#this is mostly just the idea and vibe i always have in my head when i draw them but i always put comfort lol

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.

“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”

“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”

You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”

“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”

You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”

In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.

You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”

Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.

Two Years Ago…

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.

“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.

“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.

“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.

“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.

“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.

“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.

“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did. 

You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go. 

“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”

He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.

“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder. 

The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.

“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.

“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”

You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat. 

“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him. 

Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him. 

“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.

“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”

Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.

“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.

With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.

“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.

You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.

He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.

“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”

He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.

Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”

He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”

His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck. 

“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”

“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck. 

“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.

“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked. 

“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”

With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts. 

“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see. 

 You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.

“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.

“I love it,” You answered.

“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.

“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.

He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness. 

“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was. 

The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.

Now…

Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls. 

“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath. 

Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.

You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.

Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.

Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.

“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.

Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too. 

A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”

“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”

“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her. 

“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”

Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.

“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.

You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.

“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.

Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”

The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.

“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”

He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.

Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach. 

You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.

You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.

“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.

“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.

“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.

“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”

“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”

“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.

“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”

It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”

There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.

“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes. 

“What happened to you, Rafe?”

“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”

You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.

You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,

“I hate your hair.”

And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.

(chapter 3)

a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts

[angelic--kitty]

i can't believe tungle.hellsite won't let me submit my cooking to you pookie :(

dom!ceo arlecchino x sub!intern reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, power dynamics (ceo and intern)

a/n: i got you, i'm uploading it here. enjoy some delicious arlecchino x reader thoughts from bun, everyone ♡ and happy belated birthday, arlecchino ❤️

you're a brand new intern at a massive fortune 500 type company. there were a limited number of positions available and you already had to compete with the other fresh faced graduates just to interview here, and only a small number of you were hired on. despite being sold on the opportunity to "break into the industry with fresh new ideas" you mostly spent your day running around at the behest of disgruntled seniors- retrieving coffee and lunch orders, delivering documents to other branches, and taking notes during meetings- all largely thankless tasks. it's clear you're seen less as a potential new coworker and just another intern that'll be chewed up and spit out in a month. but you do your work, show up early and stay late to better your chances at getting the boss's attention.

and that you do.

despite your best intentions, you're clearly not the best intern; messed up and mixed up orders, misdelivery of correspondence, it was clear you were trying your best, yet you couldn't quite catch a break.

so the boss pulls you into her office, having you sit across from her desk. your head bowed in shame, not wanting to meet her gaze, instead staring down at the nameplate on her desk

_"arlecchino, chief executive officer"_

surely you're going to be fired, no amount of genuine intention or passion for the field could save you now.

she tells you you're not cut out to be an intern here, a sentiment you unfortunately agree with. and then, she offers you a different position... one that would mean no more running around the office trying not to spill coffee, or spending hours shredding papers for the seniors who haven't bothered to remember your name.

one that will technically have you working longer hours, but you were already coming early and staying late to prove yourself, so surely that won't be much of an issue. arlecchino herself was usually the first to arrive and last to leave anyway, so what better way to earn your salary here than spend those hours in her office, warming her cock?

of course, that's not all you're going to be doing. in between her own work and smoke breaks she does take a moment or two to push you up against the desk and give you a good fucking before resuming her work.

she'll keep you under her desk, patting your pretty little head while your lips are wrapped around her cock, telling you to keep quiet when one of your fellow coworkers stops by her office. she'll have you bent over that desk, challenging you to not make a sound as her hand assaults your cunt, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you while she's on a conference call, knowing even the smallest sound is going to be heard by everyone on the line.

officially, you've been "promoted" to her personal assistant. odd, considering she never expressed a need for an assistant in the past, always preferring to do her work herself. but you know exactly what she means by that title. to keep up appearances, she still has you doing some basic assistant tasks not unlike your intern duties. why don't you go fetch her a coffee, sweetheart? don't worry, she'll keep your panties here in her desk until you get back. be a good girl and take some notes for her during the board meeting, if you can concentrate that is, given how she's fiddling with that vibe she stuffed inside you.

there's a big conference happening overseas, and she'll have to take a business trip out for it. good thing the company pays for the nicest hotels in the area, and how thoughtful that she was able to bring you along for the trip. sure she'll be dragging you along to boring business meetings, with She’s dragging you along to boring business meetings, your instructions being to sit quietly and nod along, take some notes, and don’t give away the fact that she made you cum in the elevator on the way up here.

the more you behave, the more she rewards you, and the further she starts to push things. you handled that meeting well, now let's see if you can handle sitting through another without your panties and her cum slowly leaking out of you. no need for notes at this meeting, but you still need to look busy, so why don't you write down some ideas for what she should do to you once you're back at the hotel? the flight home is booked an entire day after the conference and all the meetings have ended, just so she has some extra time to fuck you stupid before you two leave; a whole extra day with no obligations, dedicated to you naked in that bed and her belt wrapped around your neck like a collar.

when you get back to the office the next day, your legs are still trembling like a newborn lamb. "poor thing doesn’t do so well on planes" she’d tell anyone who asked, as if you two weren’t riding first class with her hand shoved up your cunt a majority of the flight

[anakinstwinklebunny]

FUTUREDAD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS 🍼

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

🍼 Futuredad!Anakin who was so damn excited after you've announced him your pregnancy that he couldn't shut his mouth abt it for weeks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who is obsessed how your body changes due to pregnancy. He'd definitely eye you up and down more often, stopping at your swollen breasts or round belly

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure you're all comfortable whenever you can

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who rests his head against your belly bump while you play with his curls. He'd start telling you about his day, drawing small circles on your belly before he falls asleep

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves to stroke/touch your belly skin-to-skin. Always, when you two are alone, would lift your shirt and run his hands over the swollen area

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who talks to the baby in womb. He'd just plant gentle kisses along with child's movements, whispering some words like.."look at you..so strong already" / "such a responsive baby..bet you're gonna have my looks and mommy's personality, hm?" / "yeah, you're gonna move more? Gonna just respond to daddy's silly talks?"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who uses the force to calm down your baby when it's movements get uncomfortable

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who tries to keep you happy all the time;

"Ani" you whine softly, shaking his arm so he'd wake up

With a small gasp that ended his soft, quiet snores he stirred awake "what?" his voice was raspy, almost begging you to let him go back to sleep

"wanna ice cream.." you whisper a bit shyly, knowing the hour of your tempting craving

Anakin would sigh as his eyes met the light digits on electric clock standing still on his nightstand "love, it's almost 4am..just try to fall asleep, s'gonna go away.." his arm covered the half of his face

This made you frown, having a damn human being inside your body wasn't the easiest thing in the word and trying to shoot the craving out by getting sleep wasn't the most pleasant idea "c'mon Ani.." you whined again, not letting go of shaking his arm "it won't..the baby needs ice cream and sleep isn't the way out of it"

Another sigh left his mouth, this time more of a surrender, since how could he argue with a pregnant woman? He rubbed his face before pulling the blanket away from his body "alright, alright..guess I can't argue with the baby"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure to compliment you since your body is changing and he knows how psychically overwhelming it may be

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who accidentally would drink your breast milk thinking it's a real one

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves how your body changes. The swell on your belly from his child, swollen breasts that he'd definitely pay more attention to whenever he can catch a glimpse of you just walking and them jingling or whenever you innocently change your clothes before him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who can't help but make love to you (very gentle way to call it) silly while his eyes are taking in your bouncing breasts from his thrusts

"A-ani..you're gonna hurt the baby" you mewl

"Bullshit..had been reading about this all day sweetheart.." he groaned "the baby won't even know that I'm gonna fuck another one in that pretty womb" (guys I know you mostly can't get pregnant WHILE being pregnant but it just gives me ani talk vibes)

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who gets a bit concerned if he for sure didn't hurt you or the baby after sex. Would try not to leave any marks on your belly and lower body

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who helps you with basic things that started to be troubling for you. Like tying your shoes, bending down to grab things and etc

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who got concerned after he caught you going to the bathroom too many (for him) times. He'd spend most of the day educating himself about pregnancy to understand you better, to help you with other things and to just know more

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would pout, trying to put a diaper on the newborn doll. He'd look around the room at other parents that attended to antenatal class and actually frown when he tried to copy their movements but it only became a worse mess

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who educates himself about parenting. Would watch different videos and read books between his daily tasks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would absolutely freak out when your waters broke;

"God, god, god..where is it?!" he anxiously searched for the bag with all the things already set up for birth

"Anakin!"

"Here you are" he murmured to himself, almost tripping downstairs "shit--coming sweetheart!"

"Just breathe..it's gonna be okay.." he exhaled, tapping on the steering wheel as he waited for the green light to appear

"I am breathing"

"I was saying it to myself.." he murmured, hoping you actually didn't hear that

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would argue with doctors about staying by your side during birth. He promised he'd be there and help you as much as he can and the thought of not being there was horrifying to him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who praises you and encourages you to keep pushing. Would stroke your stuck from sweat hair out of your forehead, kissing your head, running his thumb over your knuckles

"C'mon sweetheart, you can do it.." / "you're doing so great baby, one more push and it's gonna be all over" / "you're so strong.. m'so proud of you.."

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would cry his eyes out while holding and acknowledging that he has a baby girl in his arms

"Look at you..you're so small" / "so tiny..my little girl, my little princess, my shining star"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who's the best girl dad ever. Trying to do her hair (watched a lot of videos on how to do it just so he can make her a braid), playing with her in tea party, letting her paint his face (of course he'd be a little grumpy but never taking it out on her), DEFINITELY doing all other things like taking her on to pod races while they two eat popcorn and dish about everyone with almost the same frown

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would be unstoppable duo with his little girl; both probably hating sand, doing all mischievous things and this attitudeeeee

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who wouldn't stop at one kid with you (if you'd even want more)

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @heartsforanakin @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydenlovers @haydensprettyprincess @lunalitva @catnipaddictt

(if you want to be on the tag list or removed from it then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

[kleine-joost]

Joost Dating Headcanons

a/n: who tf am i updating daily?? idk where this motivation has come from lmao

WARNINGS: there's some general smutty headcanons at the end, i'd appreciate no minors interact thanks xxx

SFW HEADCANONS

- Ok so first off, I’m so so so convinced that this man is absolutely the clingiest person EVER. Like anything you’re doing, he’ll happily join you, he asks you to travel with him., Basically everything either of you do will become a two-man job

- The only thing he’s tentative about with your relationship would be the overall publicness of it. The real fans (😎😎😎) have spotted you a couple times in photos and videos in the background of things and kind of just speculated, but mostly you’re unknown.

- But in private and with friends and stuff? Hangs on you all the time, bringing you into conversations he’s in so you can add more details to his stories.

- Also I have this picture in my head, like say you had to work late or you went out with some friends and he didn’t go, when you get home, you find him in bed, duvet up to his chin and just waiting for you to get home so you can tell him everything and you can go to sleep together

- He’s not a huge movie buff, but he’ll watch whatever you want because he just loves seeing you enjoy things, seeing you happy. Even if he’s not the direct cause of it, he likes to just be there for you

- And another thing, I think he’s probably really forgetful. So if you aren’t, I like the idea of leaving little sticky notes around to remind him of things like meetings, or even just to drink water

- So supportive too. He is your biggest cheerleader in everything you do, and always knows how to comfort you if you’re down

- I imagine you also being super supportive of him, like you’re always the first person he shows a new song to, and he genuinely favours your opinion on things and will fight Tantu to change things you think could be changed

- Big flower vibes. He loves buying you flowers, even when there’s no special occasion. Just because he thought they were pretty.

- I also think he would LOVE to do like coordinating outfits and stuff

- Just a stylish couple in general

- And if like your collar isn’t sitting right or something, he’d fixed it straight away

- On a similar note, he loves when your shoelaces become untied because it's his favourite thing to just do whatever he can for you

- He’s tried to cook you dinner a total of about 3 times, all of them resulting in an inedible meal. But it’s the thought that counts

- And when you’re out eating dinner somewhere, he’ll always beg for a bite of your food in exchange for a bite of his, because “your’s just looks so good, liefde”

- I also think he’s one of those boyfriends that’ll just walk up to you and start shadow boxing at you for funsies, complete with fake huffs of effort, until it eventually just evolves into who can hold each others’ arms down for the longest time (spoiler, he wins most of the time cause he just wraps his arms around your shoulders so you can’t move)

- Going back to the travelling thing, I like the idea that if you’re not able to go with him, he always buys you some kind of souvenir like a fridge magnet or like socks or something so you feel like you were there

- And so he feels like you’re with him, he always carries a picture of you with him in his wallet bc cute

NSFW HEADCANONS

- Guess what kind of picture it is teeheehee

- I can’t decide between just a picture of your tits or one that he took while yall were fucking and you didn’t even notice that he had his phone out and was taking a photo of your face all scrunched together in pleasure

- Boy would that have been an interesting day at wherever he got it printed

- ALSO travelling means….you guessed it! Phone and FaceTime sex!!

- Most of the time it doesn’t even start out sexy, you’re just telling each other about your days

- But Joost misses you so much, he can’t help get turned on even by just the sound of your voice

- He tries to be quiet but let’s get real, that man WHINES and WHIMPERS so even when he’s trying to hold it in as he’s palming himself through his jeans, you know what’s up

- “Baby?” He hums in response. “Are you touching yourself?” “...Maybe”

- And it just devolves from there

- Omg and REUNION SEX? Don’t even get me started

- ok do get me started, the SECOND he’s home it is shoes off, clothes off, carrying you to the bedroom

- It would be a perfect mix of tender and filthy

- He missed you and wants to tell you that, but he’s also just so pent up. He needs to get all his energy out

- When he gets horny, there’s nothing he won’t do get at you

- Like when he can’t sleep at night and he’s just really bored, wakes you up and eats you out

- Walks in on you in the shower, he’s getting in

- You guys go shopping and he’s watching you try on clothes, you have to tear him off of you

- You get my point.

- I think he’s an everywhere kind of guy

- Everything, Everywhere, All At Once lol

- Definitely pulled you into a club bathroom stall on more than one occasion

- Oh and one more thing, underwear goblin. After any time you guys fuck, there’s at least a 60% chance he’ll steal your panties as a memento.

[aventurineswife]

Hi! Im a new anon who stumble upon your work recently. (I love it btw!) Can I request this scenario for the obey me fandom?

Imagine the MC is (or was) married in the human realm. However the brothers realized that the MC’s spouse is VERY attractive (Like if the spouse was Gojo Satoru). How do you think they would react with the news?

A Bit Of Jealousy

Tags: Lucifer x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader, Jealousy, Humor, Lighthearted Fluff, Possessiveness, Insecurity, Self-Doubt, Teasing.

Warnings: Some possessive and teasing behavior, mild jealousy, occasional insecurity (mostly comedic), discussions about past relationships, lighthearted humor.

A/N: HELLO AND WELCOME! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS – I’M GLAD YOU’VE ENJOYED MY WORK! IT REALLY MEANS A LOT!! 🤭💖🫶

Lucifer stood with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on you, as if contemplating something rather than merely listening. It had been some time since you'd mentioned your past life in the human realm, but this new detail had caught his attention.

"I had no idea your ex-husband was… that handsome." Lucifer’s tone was neutral, but the slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed a flicker of something else.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "It’s not like I married him for his looks," you said, trying to downplay it. "He had other qualities that mattered."

The eldest brother’s expression remained composed, though you could see the tension in his jaw. He was used to being the most capable, the most desired, and the thought that someone else—someone so undeniably attractive—had captured your heart before him stirred a slight discomfort within him.

"You’re saying I wouldn’t have stood a chance?" he asked, his voice dangerously smooth, though a subtle irritation lingered.

You smiled teasingly. "Lucifer, you’re far too full of yourself. Besides, you’re the one I’m with now, aren’t you?"

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and with a possessive gesture, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "You’re lucky I’m still allowing you to be with such an inferior man."

Mammon’s jaw dropped, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. "Wait, wait, what? Your ex-husband was that good-looking?!" His face turned a deep shade of red as he paced frantically, tugging at his hair. "How the hell did someone like him end up with ya?!"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress your amusement. "Mammon, it wasn't just about looks."

Mammon, the Avatar of Greed, shrank slightly, as if trying to come to terms with the idea that he might not measure up. "Well, The Great Mammon is way better than some human, right?" he muttered, but the lack of his usual bravado made it clear that he was internally battling his insecurities.

You walked over, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You know you're amazing in your own way, Mammon. It’s not about competing with anyone."

He grumbled under his breath, still clearly unsure of himself. "Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to show ya why I’m the better pick."

Leviathan froze, his eyes going wide in disbelief. "Wait, wait—that guy?!" His voice wavered, and his face flushed a deep shade of crimson as he processed the revelation. "You were married to him? That’s like… the ultimate level-up in real life! He must’ve been like some kind of rare, super rare character from a game or something!"

You blinked, surprised by his immediate reaction. "You know who he is?"

Leviathan fidgeted nervously, his excitement quickly mixed with insecurity. "O-of course I know him! He's everywhere, with that... unbeatable vibe, and he’s always so confident. I—I don’t think I could ever be like that..." He looked down, voice cracking slightly. "I mean... why would you marry someone like him when you could’ve had a shy, awkward guy who spends all his time gaming, not that I’d have had a chance or anything..."

You raised an eyebrow. "You think he’s that good-looking?"

Leviathan’s cheeks flushed deep red, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with his game controller as if it were a lifeline. "W-Well, yeah... I mean, how can I compete with that?" He mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and self-doubt. "He’s like... a living anime character, with that whole ‘cool, untouchable’ vibe... I’m just an otaku, surrounded by figurines and my games!" He sighed, slouching in his seat as his eyes dropped to the floor. "Guess I don’t stand a chance, huh?"

You chuckled and patted his head. "Levi, you have your own charm, don't worry."

He mumbled a soft "thanks," his cheeks still tinged pink, as he returned to his game, likely pondering his own appearance in a whole new light.

Satan raised an eyebrow at the news, his usually calm demeanor remaining composed as he closed his book. "I see," he mused, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "It’s no surprise that someone of his appearance would catch your eye."

You tilted your head. "What does that mean?"

Satan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "It means that while his appearance may be striking, I’ve always known you to be a bit more discerning when it comes to your tastes." His smile was teasing, but there was something more beneath it.

"Jealous, Satan?" you teased.

He smirked, but his eyes flickered with an almost imperceptible hint of rivalry. "Jealousy implies that I feel threatened." His voice lowered, a bit darker. "But I do wonder if someone like him could match my charm… or my intellect."

You raised an eyebrow. "Planning to challenge him?"

Satan didn’t answer immediately, his smile growing more enigmatic. "Perhaps. It might be amusing to test whether he could truly hold a candle to someone like me."

The moment you mentioned your ex-husband, Asmodeus gasped dramatically, his hands flying to his face. "Oh my goodness, you were married to him?!" His eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and fascination. "Tell me everything! His skincare routine, his hair—how is he so perfect?!" He practically swooned, his voice rising in pitch with every word.

You chuckled, a bit amused by his over-the-top reaction. "I think it's just natural for him." you said, trying to deflect the question.

Asmodeus’s eyes grew wider. "You’re telling me he’s that perfect without even trying?! Oh my, I’m in love with him already!" He threw his head back, letting out a dramatic sigh.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "You can't just fall for someone based on their looks, Asmo."

He flashed you a playful grin. "Well, darling, you’ve clearly got exquisite taste. But between you and me, I’m still the real star here, aren’t I?"

You laughed again, shaking your head. "You never change."

Beel stared at you for a long moment, clearly trying to process the information. "So… he really was that good-looking?" Beel asked, his voice calm, though there was a note of genuine curiosity in it.

You nodded. "Yeah, he was."

Beel scratched his head thoughtfully. "Well, if you’re with me now, then I guess he must not have been perfect for you." He said it so simply, almost like a statement of fact.

"Exactly," you said, smiling warmly at him. "There’s more to someone than just looks."

Beel smiled back, his expression content. "I’m glad you feel that way."

Belphie barely reacted when you mentioned your ex-husband. His voice remained lazy, but his smirk hinted at his amusement. "So, your ex was that attractive, huh?" He yawned, stretching casually. "Guess he doesn’t compare to me."

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you comparing yourself to a human?"

Belphegor’s smirk deepened. "I’m not comparing. Just stating the facts. But if he was that perfect, I’ve got my work cut out for me."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh at his arrogance. "You never change, do you?"

Belphegor stretched out comfortably, flashing you a lazy grin. "Of course not. But in case you forgot, I’m the only one who matters to you now."

[flw3rrr]

Thank you for responding! And honestly, creative freedom! An idea could be y/n (or however you wanna write it) is new to the team and is a little too eager and Tyler has to be that 'in charge' 'voice of reason' when she wants to take too risky of chances(like maybe they're chasing a Tornado and she decided to jump out of the truck way too close, idk) .. But if that doesn't vibe with you, that's totally ok! My fav is when he ends up manhandling y/n or the reader😅

No sense of safety

Tyler owens x gn!reader

Warnings: Reader has no sense of safety keeping tyler on his toes, no description of reader, no mentions of y/n. reader is a little clumsy (mention only) But also saves a cat so it's worth it

A/n: Tysm for this request anon, and thanks for the creative freedom. i based it off the details you gave along with a bit of ideas from me. I really hope you enjoy it and feel free to request more!💖

word count: 2k

Not really proofread but a little is i like wrote this at 1am. sorry for any typos

Have a request? Feel free to send me it in my inbox!

The little diner that basically was in the middle of nowhere almost sounded silent, with the only things heard being the clinging off class plates or mugs. seniors mostly seen, and then in the corner the tornado wranglers sat. It was the happiest day for you today because you were new to the team, and excitement was built up deep within you.

You've known Tyler for some time and gotten close to him; he was the one who brought you to the world of tornado chasing, and you were glad he did. You enjoyed the science behind it and how many different ways someone could tell a tornado was forming, the speed of wind, and a ton more.

But when you become excited for something, you tend to lose all knowledge of safety. getting too eager to start the job and have fun, but of course Tyler knew you and how you got so the night before today he sat you down and told you the rules and not to forget any of them. which you replied to him you wouldn't.

Soon a hand landed on your shoulder, looking up; it was Tyler standing up and looking at everybody. "Alright folks, today's the day we get some tornados!" The table cheered quietly in knowledge of others in the little diner trying to enjoy a meal. "And don't forget our safety rules." Tyler mentioned your name at the end, making sure it kept snug in your memory forever.

You just gave Tyler a nod in return, a little embarrassed since Tyler had obviously told the crew on how you got when too in the moment and excited. Taking one last sip of your water before heading out to the truck and the rest of the vehicles. Taking one of the monitors, you began to calibrate and made sure it was ready for whatever was ahead for today. 

"So you ready to join in the fun and chaos?" Looking over to see Boone approaching with the camera in hand. You'd always liked Boone; his humor was quite enjoyable, and he always made sure to capture the good moments for the viewers to see, but then he also knew what not to show. "Yeah, I am really pumped and ready." Not really having enough words to express, you just kept your response short. 

"It'll be fun, I promise, and the viewers always love new people who join. Perhaps you'll be the new star." He lets out a chuckle from his comment. Within seconds, Tyler appears, "New star? already plannin' for their future boone?" Placing his hands on his hips, his arm muscles clearly showing through the sleeves of his shirt. You'd admit to yourself only that he definitely was good-looking. "Yep, you know me gotta’ plan for everything. I know a star when I see one."

You felt very welcome by everybody and already felt like a star. Perhaps they were just boosting your confidence, but you enjoyed every part. recalling how you told your parents you joined the tornado wranglers with a big smile across your face and your parents held concerned looks. 

"No need to boost me that high, Boone; nobody really knows me, and they'll have to get to know me first before they decide if they even like me." Your parents always taught you growing up that it takes a while for people to get used to someone new, especially if it's something big.

Tyler let out a huff with a smile before turning his head toward you. "Nah, if I like you and the rest does, then they'll like you back. Don't doubt anything." You let out a laugh before speaking up. "Unless they see me do something stupid." Having moments in the past where you almost set off the fireworks in his truck when he showed you them for the first time or accidently set up the monitor the wrong way, causing it to freeze for a whole hour.

"We all do stupid stuff on streams, like one time i-" Boone began to speak once before Tyler cut him off. "Yeah, don't even continue on that." shrugging it off before nodding, you walked away to get more things needed for this chase. Carefully packing it up in the van and truck, making sure each is tucked away safe and not able to fling around from harsh turns that will come up sooner than later.

It was finally time to get out and start driving. Sitting in the back of the truck with all the equipment that you use to track the weather and tornado levels. "Hey, can you hand me the light for the camera back there? I forgot to replace this one," Boone asked. You just gave a smile in return before your arm moved in front of you, handing him the light, just before you could move. Tyler's hand landed on your wrist tightly, startling you in the process.  

Eyes slowly looking down to see why you realized your hand was close to setting off the fireworks almost once again. Quickly handing the light and bringing your arm back to you, "Sorry, I didn't realize." A wave of embarrassment rushes to you, wanting to sink into the seat and disappear. "It's fine. Just be careful this time. Okay,  we don't have a lot of fireworks on hand this time." He began to drive, his face stern before going to excitement for the camera.

His reaction scared you, thinking quickly that he was upset at you and annoyed. But he wasn't; he was just nervous having you on this chase, knowing how you get, and afraid of you doing anything stupid you'd regret. Slowly looking back at the monitor to show the camera and explaining who you were as well as what's on the screen.

Within minutes, there were so far three tornadoes; they were tiny and didn't really do damage, but I made sure to document them for future reference and further study. "So far, guys, we are getting good results, and you are all seeing this live!" Tyler yelled out loud to boost the viewers and likes. As you wrote down more, trying to make the handwriting more clear than messy, when in a moving car you take notice, Boone asked you a question.

"So why don't you tell them what you're doing as we drive down a boring road?" pointing the camera back at you once more. Blushing a little knowing millions were watching live at this very moment made you hesitate before speaking up. "Well, I work for a weather company, not a big one, but I'm getting every bit of data and tracking info I can get on each tornado that forms or tries to form basically so we can use it whenever something like this happens again, which it will." 

"See guys, they are also smart, so Tyler did good letting them join." Slowly turning the camera back to Tyler and letting you do whatever you needed to do. Enjoying the moment and everything, but your eyes missed the monitor at the moment you were writing. Showing high data of something big and dangerous, then it turned off with no signal shown on the screen.

"That's weird." You picked up the monitor to fix it, but nothing would work. The only thing it would do was turn off, and on displaying the "no signal," it was odd for you at least. "What's the matter?" Tyler spoke, taking a quick glance back to look at you. Glancing up at him before shaking the monitor, "It's not working anymore; it says the signal is lost. I can't see anything at all." 

Just as you tried shaking it, trying anything possible to work, the sky got darker, almost as if it were night. "Are you seeing this or?" Boone spoke up, breaking the silence in the truck, his hands holding the camera tightly. A crackle sound came from the radio that sat on the dashboard. Dani spoke up. "Guys, im saying this now we have to get to safety, um, it appears its going to be a big one."

Suddenly, Tyler hits the gas hard, sending you to fly back into the seat with a huff, the air pushing out harshly. Boone just cheers at the fast driving, while you were silently begging in your head for it to quickly come to an end. 

A small town in the distance appears almost quickly as Tyler continues to speed, the rest of the crew following behind. As Tyler slams on the breaks once again, you fly forward, but the thanks of seatbelts, it was cut. basically choking you, and the only time you were glad about choking.

Just as everyone got out, the wind speeds picked up quickly, chairs blowing away, leafs flying everywhere, and people running to safety. Just as you and the rest began to run to the basement of a store, your eye caught a glimpse of a tiny cat. 

Standing still and looking to the basement entrance and back to the cat, you take a step before a strong hand grips onto you. Looking back to be met with Tyler, "What on earth are you doing?! Do you realize you need to get to safety right now? Even I know that better than half of these people who are just running around!" His face looked harsh and desperate.

"I have too. There's a cat, and I'm not letting it fly up in the air, and if I let that happen, I'd cry forever." Losing your grip, you ran to the cat that stood still in fear; its tail stood straight. Tyler watched you as every second passed, a little annoyed, but he never took his eye off you. Within seconds, the wind picked up, and with the cat in your arms, you struggled to walk. Taking action, Tyler ran to you, and before you could speak, he picked you up tightly and back to the basement of the store.

Tyler put you down carefully and looked at you strongly. "That was a dumb move, and never do that unless you say something before. You can't die on your first day; I won't allow that." A breath of relief left him as he glimpsed down at the poor cat that still shook in fear.

"How about in three days then?" You asked with a smile, your hand slowly petting the cat to comfort it to the best of your ability. "I'll have to see." Just then the power went out, harsh winds

were heard loudly, and the cries of children filled the room, but Barely heard. Out of instinct, Tyler takes you into his grasp, holding you close to him. perhaps to comfort you or himself?

Just as your head turned to meet his, barely making it out with only a tiny emergency light lit the room. It felt as if the wind stopped and nobody was there but the both of you. Tyler leaned in first before his lips met yours in a heated kiss. It only lasted a second before the cat shook more as the emergency light began to flicker.

The tornado and storm lasted two hours before it was alright to get out. Trees everywhere, some stores destroyed, and cars, including Toyota's trusted truck. It was sad to look around as police and paramedics showed up to check up on everyone. You gave the cat to one of them to fully check on the cat."I wanted to apologize for acting harsh at the start of today and a few hours ago." 

"It's alright, Tyler; you just were used to everyone knowing how to do things normally and knowing to get to safety quickly." Stepping closer to him with a soft smile. "You didn't realize is my guess?" he suddenly spoke, which confused you. "realize what?" shaking his head with a sigh, he spoke again. "The tornado was like right there when you ran out to get the cat. That's why I was basically screaming at you."

“Oh.”

[princessbrunette]

just imagine beings jjs innocent gf and youre really inexperienced and it makes you so insecure and like hes not stupid he notices how you tend to pull back when things get heavy but he thinks its because you dont wanna go farther when its like you DO but you want him so bad its overwhelming and you dont wanna disappoint him but one day he reassures you its okay and to ease you into it he sits you on his lap and talks you through your first orgasm while you cum so prettily around his fingers :(

omg working yourself up to near tears because you want him to bad :( attending a lil pogue get together at the chateau, everyone getting drunk around the fire with music playing and it’s sm fun but all you can think about is how badly u wanna pull jj away from everyone and have your way with him… you just don’t know how :(

you haven’t done this before! so you don’t even know how to propose the idea, eventually the blonde picking up on your shaky and hesitant vibe when you ask him to come inside with you to get more ice from the freezer, even a few people wolf whistling as he lets you lead him by the hand inside.

he’s standing there shucking ice into the bucket, turning and looking at you when you slowly approach him with a softness to your expression you only gain when you want a kiss. so he stands to his full height and brings you in with cold hands on your cheeks, allowing your lips to meet.

mostly due to you, the kiss gets hot and heavy quickly, tongues needily dancing over eachother as you blindly found the couch, JJ pulling you onto his lap. your heart starts hammering like it always does and you pull away, a little panicked and frustrated, dropping your head to his shoulder with a sad sigh. “sorry.” you whimper.

“why? hey?” he lifts your chin with his knuckle, brow creased in concern. you don’t say anything, just climb off his lap— and you don’t miss the way he tugs his tshirt down a little trying to hide the bulge that had formed between his legs. after a slightly tense silence, he chooses his words carefully. “babe… y’know me, i don’t wanna come across like some pushy asshole but… am i doing something wrong? i dont wanna scare you, like— we can totally move at your pace it’s just… it seems like you want it and then you pull away and im just a little… confused?” he turns his body to face you, keeping his body language and voice gentle as to let you know you’re not in trouble with him.

you blink up at him tearfully through your lashes anyway as if he had yelled at you, letting a long sigh through your nose. “i… i just panic. i want you so bad it hurts but… dont know what i’m doing, just get so overwhelmed ‘n embarrassed and—” you start working yourself up and he shuffles closer, cupping your jaw.

“hey. look at me. that’s… what im here for, you know? to teach you stuff? we can take it really slow like…” he places a hand on your thigh, watching for your reaction, seeing the way your lashes flutter needily and breath catches in your throat. poor thing, so touch starved. “really, really slow.” he whispers, rubbing the skin there, fingers dipping a little up your skirt. “you okay with this, hm?” he tilts his head, dotting kisses down your jaw.

“mhm.”

“atta girl… you wanna stay right there or do you wanna sit on my lap?”

“on your lap, please.”

“polite, i like it.” he grins, pulling you up and getting you situated as his hand disappears up your skirt, tongue finding yours once more.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

For the yandere class 1a I would not last a bit. Like I would just start bawling my eyes out. How do you think the class would react?

(I love your writing please take care of yourself)

Oh no because SAME. I am the biggest crybaby. I feel you, boo.

However, considering the class, there's lots of ways they'd react!

Also, I wrote an imagine for Class 3-A's Big Three because I'm extra like that and HO MAH GOD, they really stole the show on this one. I AM SO SORRY I DIDN'T FOLLOW YOUR ORIGINAL IDEA! But I still hope you all like it~

(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Characters Featured → Izuku (Deku), Shoto, Bakugo, The Big Three {Mirio, Tamaki, and Nejire}, and some of the members of Class 1-A

Length -> 3.1K Words

(Plz forgive me. I splurged and gave all my love to the three main boys. I left the other class members in the dust. I just have a lot of creativity coming out for them right now! If there is a specific character you'd like, please send me another request!)

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Deku is THE crybaby of the My Hero Academia universe, so I feel like you two would just cry a puddle together. In all honesty, while it hurts to see you filled with sorrow, he's thrilled that you feel close enough to them that you'd show enough vulnerability to cry! Even if your tears aren't about whether or not you trust the class or feel it is "safe" to cry, it doesn't matter to him. He'll cradle your head into the crook of his neck, rub your back, and hush your sobs with soft sighs. Deku loves having you close, he views it as a "bonding experience", so feel free to cry all you want! He's not leaving your side any time soon, so the two of you can cry together for as long as you'd like!

This is going to sound a little strange, but this vibe fits my image of SPECIFICALLY Yandere Izuku (or, at least, in my image of him)! You know Gyutaro from Demon Slayer? And you know how he acts when he is comforting Daki? That is kind of how I am envisioning him coddling you. Slightly teasing, but it comes mostly from a place of love and concern. The sadness in his voice (whether it is faked to amp up his teasing or not, in Gyutaro's case) adds to the image I have of Deku crying alongside you. Izuku is totally one of those people who is like, "Don't cry, because if you cry, then I'LL cry *proceeds to cry*."

"Aww, no, it's okay!" Izuku sits down next to you as you are crumpled on the ground, exhausted and upset. He loops his strong arms around your shoulders and holds on tight. He feels tears well up in his own eyes, but he can't seem to shake the giddy joy bubbling in his stomach from being close to his one and only. He sniffles, but a wide smile stretches up his cheeks, "It's alright, dear. Let it out. I'll sit with you as long as you need~!"

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Shoto has always been stoic because of the harsh environment he grew up in where any emotion shown is an exploitative weakness (thanks, Endeavor), so he's going to freeze up when he sees tears bubbling down your cheeks. Even as a Yandere, emotions are hard for him to wrap his head around. He can barely understand the soul-crushing feelings he has for you! So, even though you are his everything in this world, he will be rather reserved on the comforting aspect of things. Shoto is thankful in these moments that he has the rest of his class, specifically those who are more in-tune with emotional responses like Izuku, Uraraka, and Mina, to rely on.

Though, he will try to help in his own Shoto-way! Would another inconceivably expensive gift help dry your crocodile tears? Don't worry, it's his dad's card that's paying for it all! What would you like? A couple new games for your video game console so you can play together? The finest, richest, and sweetest chocolates in all of Japan? How about an all expense paid trip on the family yacht for the weekend with the whole class included? Anything you want is yours, all you have to do is name it! Though, these gifts do not come freely—he will tax you AT LEAST a two hour cuddle session in your room per each gift. IDK, seems pretty fair to me!

"Here," Shoto clears his throat, a pristine, mint green box with a perfectly constructed golden bow resting on the lid sits in his outstretched hand. You rub your eye with the heel of your palm, sniffling to clear your nose as your eyes bounce back-and-forth between Shoto's unnerving, stoic expression and the small box. On the outside, his face shows indifference, but on the inside, his poor heart is doing a dozen cartwheels after running a ten mile race. The look you're giving him (mind you, is simply a look of pure confusion) is just too cute! Don't you know what you do to him?!?!

"It's your favorite sweets. For you. Don't worry about the money, it isn't a concern." Shoto looks away, a soft dusting of blush coating his cheeks. You almost want to accept it just to get him out of your personal bubble, but you think back on the pile of all his previous expensive gifts that are stacked high in the corner of your dorm, and decide to try to deny it. Before you can utter a shaky rejection, he snatches your wrist and begins dragging you off in the direction of your dorm room, no doubt getting you ready for your practically daily cuddle session.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Bakugo is a tricky one because it depends on the situation he catches you crying in. On one hand, he doesn't like to see you sad. There's some primal anger (it's different from his typical Bakugo-rage) that gets spun up to 100% in him whenever he sees you racked with sobs and curling in on yourself. The statements sprinting laps in his mind revolve solely around "tell me who hurt you so I know who to murder". Don't think he'll go soft on you because you're the extra who has his heart doing flips. Even if you are hesitant to reveal who mistreated you in fear of their, or your own, safety, Bakugo won't let up. He will poke, prod, threaten, and glare the answer right out of you. Once he has a name, you'd better get out of this rabid dog's way, because he will mow down any obstacle in his path on his way to the enemy. If you enjoyed the company of the person who made your sensitive self sad, you're going to have to find a lovely bouquet for their funeral.

HOWEVER! If HE was the one who made you cry...he is going to tease you about it. FRIENDS, LET ME EXPLAIN let me cook! Since becoming infatuated with you, he has learned to lighten up the bullying nature of his words. He isn't perfect, but he has certainly gotten better with his communication, BUT ONLY FOR YOU r.i.p to Deku's sanity bc he tried for YEARS to get this Pomeranian to change with no success, and you stroll along and make Bakugo clean up his act in SECONDS. That being said, he is, and will probs forever be, a sadist at heart—and he flourishes off of that devilish, delicious satisfaction over being the one responsible for making you have so much of an emotional response to his words that you actually CRY.

You'd be standing there, face tilted towards the ground. You’re attempting to shield the tears leaking down your pudgy cheeks from his judgmental view, but he’d know. It’s like a sixth sense he has—being able to just know when someone is showing their weaknesses to him. Being a brat is in his nature, and he’s the type of person who if you give him an inch, he’ll take the mile. Bakugo would feel an unconscious teasing sneer creep up onto his face at this pleasant view in front of him.

"Haaa???," he'd shove his hands into his pants pockets, lean down to catch your eye sight with his, forcing you to witness the glee he feels at your expense, "You're crying? Already? Ha! What a weakling. It's a wonder you made it this far without us to carry you through your mistakes. You should just give up on the whole independence thing, stop making a fool of yourself." He then confidently struts over to your side, nudging you forward with a gentle shove of his shoulder against yours as a warning to start walking back to the classroom. Katsuki watches with a side eye as even bigger tears gloop down your face, but only now he says nothing. He wishes you could understand where his mean words were coming from.

Trust me, Bakugo does say all of these things with twisted love in hopes that you'll stop being so determined to get away from him them. Bakugo's abrasive and brash, but he's no idiot. He sees how badly you want to get away from them, but he just can't find it inside himself to do the heroic thing and let you go. If this is how you react to the teasing of someone who loves you, then how can you survive in the real world against not-so-caring strangers?! The conclusion he comes to is that you can't. Don’t worry—he doesn’t mind becoming the one to take care of you, even if he is forced to be the big, bad wolf in your eyes.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS, BUT I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT THE OTHER BIG THREE TOO BECAUSE I LOVE THEM AND I HAVE A SPARK OF CREATIVITY FOR THIS SCENARIO. PLEASE ACCEPT THIS AS MY SUBMISSION FOR CLASS 1-A AND PARDON MY LAZINESS FOR NOT WRITING THE REST OF THE STUDENTS IN THIS IMAGINE!

Our beloved Class 3-A Big Three also happen to have their eyes on you! Trust me when I say if you thought your classmates were overbearing, you're going to face a whole different overprotective beast with these three.

Mirio and Nejire basically share the same brain cell when they are together, so they just pass it on to whoever needs it most in the moment. However, when it comes to a mopey you, it is all hands on deck. They split the brain cell so they can effectively help you! They are all questions all the time, so you will be bombarded with them yelling all of these sentences in a matter of a few seconds:

"Oh no! Oh, my baby! What's wrong, sweetheart gumdrop darling???" - Nejire

"Who do I have to teach a lesson to? Don't give me that, sunshine! You're too nice for your own good! It is our job as heroes to enforce good citizenship, after all." - Mirio

"What can I get you? A warm tea? A blanket? You want a hug? I can do that easy! Hehe!" - Nejire

"Wait, I wanted to hug them first!" - Mirio

"Give it a rest, Mirio! They need comfort right now, not a fight!" - Nejire

Yeah, they're just two kids bickering over their favorite toy. They genuinely want to help you! Honest! It's just hard to not fight over you when you are simply the cutest thing they've ever seen. Nejire is also going to squeal from the cuteness you're exuding. She thinks your puffy, sad eyes and cheeks warm from an embarrassed flush is the most adorable look on you, so she isn't going to be that upset with you being down.

Tamaki is similar to Todoroki in the sense that he has no idea how to comfort emotional people, but instead of finding the courage to say or do something to help you, he is going to be HIGHLY on edge. He'll inch close when you first run up to the three of them in the hall to see what is wrong, as he is concerned why you are crying so much, but if you spare him even ONE glance, he will scamper away and face the wall in apprehension. Idiot! How could he look at you so brazenly?! Is he shameless?!?! He is such a terrible lover friend. Oh, you must hate him now for seeing you in such a vulnerable state. No! He doesn't want that! He...he l-l-loves you! He doesn't want you to go away! Oh no, what if yOU NEVER SPEAK TO HIM AGAIN OH GOD—he basically flies off the handle with worry. He's staring at the wall, shaking, afraid to do anything that may upset his flower any further.

Mirio actually has to be the one to come over and check on the poor shaking leaf of a boy for Tamaki to find the courage to say anything to you. Granted, Tamaki doesn't actually tell you the words he wishes to share with you himself.

Nejire is in the process of chatting your ears off to kingdom come and swinging you around in a tight hug when Mirio jogs back from his brief chat with the statue-esque Amajiki. Mirio shines a gorgeous smile at you as he relays Tamaki's message, "Hi, again, love! Tamaki wants to tell you that he is upset that you are crying, and to please use his handkerchief to clean your face! He insists." Mirio pries off Nejire's vice grip from you, and gently places the neat handkerchief in your palm. It is simple, white cotton with an intricate lace design stitched on the edges. You do notice that there is a dainty lilac flower embroidered with thin string on each of the four corners of the cloth.

You quietly thank Mirio, and send another thank you over Mirio's shoulder to the still shaking Tamaki. Tamaki does acknowledge your thanks with a violently tremoring thumbs up. You wipe the long tear streaks off your face, blow your nose, and take a couple of deep breaths to calm your fragile heart.

"So, what's going on, lovebug? Why all the tears?" Nejire has finally chilled out enough to ask serious questions instead of just fawning over your cuteness.

"It...it's—I don't—ugh...I-I'm s-sorry...," you're hiccupping for air, tripping all over your sentence as you feel the hot tears of embarrassment come back. You grit your teeth as another shuddering sob comes out. You can't believe you're crumbling like this in front of your superiors. Your upper classmates. You should know better than this! You're not a baby anymore! They are practically your teachers! How stupid you must look wailing and moaning like a newborn. You turn to run away, but two pairs of callused, powerful hands grab your shoulders and arms.

"No, baby, it's okay! You don't have to be sorry. Please tell us what's going on." Nejire pulls you close to her again, cupping your head into her shoulder and rubbing your back as encouragement.

"You're okay, (Y/N), no one is going to hurt you. Not while we're here. What's up?" Mirio stood beside you as a comforting hulk of a man that made you feel warm and safe. The fluttery feeling of seeing you with glassy eyes and running to him for safety like he was your hero and true love began wearing off, and the new feeling of wanting to bring immense harm to whoever had the nerve to mess with his sunshine took over. This situation wasn't just you tripping over your own two feet in the hallway in front of your teachers or something simple like that. This must be serious. He needs you to tell him what happened now before he does something irresponsible and with little thought behind his actions.

Even Tamaki perked up to hear what you were going to say. Again, he truly does want to help! He's trying to be brave for you. He didn't peel entirely away from the wall, but he did tilt his head to the side to better hear your tale.

Inhaling a few more deep breaths, you opened up, "It's...my class. They just—they won't leave me alone! Mina and Hagakure always want to play games with me, hug me, poke me, ANYTHING! They never give me space! Momo and Iida won't stop asking me if I want a private study session even though my grades are beyond fine. They even tried to force their way into my room last night to "check up" on me after I didn't want to have dinner with all of them!"

You continued after gently blowing your nose again into Tamaki's handkerchief, "I feel like I'm being watched all the time, even when I'm not around any of them! Last night, I woke up at like 3 AM and I SWEAR I saw Tokoyami's Dark Shadow in the corner of my room just...watching me. I tried asking him about it today, but he kept brushing me off. But he didn't deny any of what I said! I'm...scared. Not to mention Sero, Denki, and Kirishima won't stop messing with me! They keep tugging on my vest, breaking off buttons on my shirt, pulling at my bottoms, touching my hair—I keep asking them to back off, but they just won't stop." You hiccupped through your tears again, but it looked like you had more to say, so the three of them stayed quiet.

You started again, now with a much quieter voice, "But the worst is those three. Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugo. I'm always bothered by at least one of them all the time. Izuku hangs all over me and it's like he doesn't listen to a thing I say! I ask him to leave me alone, he says I don't know what I want and continues to push me. Todoroki won't stop giving me things I don't need or want that I can't repay back. Shoto says I only need to pay him back in "quality time"—which is basically him holding me prisoner in my own bed every other night. And Bakugo...I swear, I don't know if he sees me as an enemy or a doll to be tossed around. He's always talking down to me, insulting my fighting style or pointing out if I'm distracted. He goes out of his way to make fun of my appearance or if I say the wrong thing. He's...actually the reason I came looking for you three. I just don't know what to do anymore."

It was safe to say the three of them were livid to hear about all the torture you were being unwillingly dragged through. Mirio and Tamaki most of all. Mirio was infuriated to hear how Izuku had been treating you. Him, who Mirio had full trust in and respect—both of those qualities had tanked in a matter of a few minutes of hearing your recollection. Tamaki couldn't believe how Kirishima was behaving when he'd sworn to be the "manliest man to ever step foot in the Hero Alliance". Nejire was more upset to hear how her girls were having so much fun playing with little cute you without inviting her, but she was beyond fuming when she discovered how the disgusting boys were getting close to you. She felt like her words could melt metal with how fiery they felt building up in her throat.

"Hmm, how awful," Mirio had a terrifyingly dark look in his eye, one that made a shiver scamper up your spine. You'd never seen him so upset. All your tears dried as you heard him utter to his two friends that were now standing at his sides, "I think it's time we paid another educational visit to our promising young heroes, hmm~?"

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

You know, I do this every time. I start writing, I don't stop writing, and when I'm done, it's hardly an imagine anymore. This is practically a whole bloody fic at this point! And I get so mad at myself for doing it too because this took me all day to write LMAOOOO. BUT! I hope you all like it! I adore The Big Three, so I hope to write for them again. They are cool hehe :3

With Love,

Kraken 🐙

[chiipay]

What if.. celebrating Christmas with Kaiser alongside his birthday? (Fluff)

Ohh cool idea. Ty (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I'll do my best to make a scenario that fit your imagination (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠). Also forgive me because my country is a tropical country- we don't have Christmas here.. so idk much about Christmas Day.

Snowy days- MICHAEL KAISER.

24th December

It's Christmas. Fucking Christmas. Oh how much Kaiser hates to be reminded of the day he was born. But he couldn't express it to you because well he didn't want to get slapped on Christmas day because he pissed you off. He decided to just let it slide hopefully Christmas would just go along without bothering him.

" Kaiser. Wake up. It's freezing here. Help me up with setting presents for the players. I'll give yours later for the day."

You were just moving stuff around Kaiser so called 'penthouse'. Hie place looks gloomy and empty- tf he did here? Just laying around? You shaken every bad thought of him deciding which present suites for every bastard munchen players-

"... dang-this is harder than i thought.." you mutter- thinking hard on the presents.

This is the first time you celebrate Christmas with Michael kaiser and you had no idea how to plan things out. You rought a few items to become presents for bastard munchen players- but you don't spend a single penny in your bank...it was Kaiser's.

'he insisted on using his credit card only- rich people phase ig..'

Your thoughts got distracted by Kaiser leaning his body on you from behind. He let out a long sigh while resting his head on your shoulder, eyes glancing at the sight of items you brought earlier.

Kaiser looks at some items and picks up one of them and he chooses...a perfume.

'...wtf. wtf is this?'

Kaiser holds the perfume bottle for a minute before scrunching his nose up making a disgusted expression. He tightened his grip on your stomach making you look towards the same direction as he is.

"..what?"

" who the hell did you bought a perfume for? My whole teammates are freaking male. They have male anatomy. Tf is this for?"

Kaiser brings the perfume closer to your face as you just look at it for a sec before returning your attention to him.

" oh- i thought it would be good to give it to grim. Y'know? Just some vibe- I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

You said nonchalantly not really finding what's wrong with giving a perfume to a guy. Kaiser gave you a weird look before just putting the bottle down and would just bury his head deeper into your hair, sniffing your scent.

'Nasty.' you think.

----------___________-----------_________

25th December.

" Michael- wake up... it's Christmas.."

Michael kaiser groaned in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes. A glimpse of his mother came to his blurry vision just for it to get more clearer it was you. His eyes twitched a bit when his vision was getting more clear but soon turned into a softened gaze.

"..heyy..you awake now? It's Christmas..and happy birthday micha."

'micha..' you didn't always call kaiser by a nickname because of how you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He never really cared about it. Mostly he would often ignored you whenever you called him that...but somehow he couldn't resist how smooth when he got called like that by you.

"....merry Christmas i fucking guess." He hushed in his low voice.

He sat up on his bed and then slowly looked at you while you prepare him breakfast in bed. He blankly looks at you while you prepare for it. When you were done he slowly ate his breakfast in front of you while you watched him eat it motionlessly.

"...why did you suddenly make me breakfast in bed today? You've never done this before."

" dang- forgave me for acting nice then. It's your birthday so why not? If this was another normal day i would have just forced you to do your own meal."

Kaiser didn't respond but continued to eat repeatedly. He was in deep thoughts...-you think. You didn't want your morning with kaiser to end up being an awkward morning so you try to change the atmosphere.

"uh- do you want a present? I already got something for you..?"

" present?"

Kaiser hates presents. He couldn't react properly when he got one. He hates it if he can't react properly would you be upset with him? Would you hate him for that? Would you actually leav-

".. having you is already like having a hellish present. Why should i get another one?"

His words actually came out opposite of what he is thinking. But even so he didn't want a present. Having you is already like a present he got from fate. He's more surprised that his 'present' is still with him and wasn't broken at all.

" oh-uhh thank you?..." You had no idea if that's a compliment or not but sounds pretty sweet to you..?

The tips of your ears went red making kaiser grin at your reaction-

' jackpot.'

"alright then, here's my present for you, meine einzige Frau~"

He leans closer to you making you started and backing backwards but Kaiser already trapped you before he gates his mouth on yours.

[aimasup]

THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS EPISODE 2 THOUGHTS AND SPOILERS

The warbling effect in the beginning perfectly encapsulates what it's like to try and move in a dream.

the colours behind the eyes (we only remember the last moments of our dreams when we are about to wake up, everything before that is mostly a vague blur)

And the floors shifting without your permission? Super accurate

Hey half the fandom how does it feel to be right about Ragatha and Pomni's dynamic post-pilot

CAINE MY LOVE

Bubble never change

ZOOBLE APPEARANCE

are they actually gonna change looks every episode if so yes please

Caine with a pipe <3<3

The humour is fantastic as always (the mannequin that pushed Gangle over made me chuckle)

Pomni might have been a gamer, she seems critical of the experience but only as someone who wants to engage

Ragatha being the diplomatic face man while Jax is the wild card negotiator, what a duo! Charming in their own ways! maybe Pomni could be the relatable third that is a grounding force

Kinger is a lot more involved with the adventure than we thought he would be! He isn't as terrified or absent as imagined, he's genuinely enthusiastic (it's kind of sad)

When the gators started talking about the village and the mom, dread crept up on me: Caine's intricately powerful

the stained glass window is darkly funny though ajskwjsks

Gangle you freak?? /pos You are moving up the ranks for me

It's great that Jax isn't just a "chaotic bad boy" type, I can see why Zooble takes any chance they get to strangle him (hate him, love his character)

Gummigoo's revelation was heartbreaking thanks

was Pomni depressed? Does she remember being depressed? Aghh so many headcanons rn about her life

can we get a shoutout to the Raggedy Ann movie references and the adorable gator goons

Kinger giving advice and saying "I remember how long it etc etc" whilst his head is bucketed has such warm?? vibes??

Ragatha holding her skirt to wade through the chocolate <3<3<3

I love that the chocolate doesn't stick to anything, I love that Princess Loo is slightly uncanny, I love that they use the glitches of the assets to move the story forward, I love the game world that works within the 3d animation well <3<3

Has Caine killed a human by mistake? With a snap of his finger? Or did he snap his fingers to delete them but it didn't instantly take them out and they abstracted...

The funeral was unexpected, it's nice that Caine gives them time off to do whatever

The idea that you will be missed if you disappear.,,.

Gooseworx wasn't lying this really is the depression episode (and it's still Pomni focused! Hooray!!)

OKAY BUT CONSIDER. RAGATHA BEING THE NERVOUS DESPERATE ONE IN BUTTONBLOSSOM.

sobs the plushies I want them all

[shadeysprings]

YOU

—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.

Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 5.4K

A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

They didn’t come.

It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.

But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?

You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.

Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more. 

As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before. 

Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand. 

“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”

“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.

“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”

His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer. 

“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.

“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”

You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence. 

But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it. 

“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?

“I’m sorry?” 

“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”

That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.

“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”

The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”

Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?

“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”

Under-dressed.

Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?

You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale” piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him. 

The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait. 

“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth. 

You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”

“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.” 

Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention. 

“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh. 

You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up. 

“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips. 

“Well, what do you want to know?”

Giggling. 

It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are. 

The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other. 

The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project? 

You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out. 

He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you. 

“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”

And it doesn’t. 

You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue. 

You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss. 

He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss. 

To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head. 

But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them. 

Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further. 

But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste. 

Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core. 

It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue. 

You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit. 

The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside. 

Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge. 

“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat. 

His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.

Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss. 

The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note. 

But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”

Nervous.

It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all. 

“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier. 

“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.

After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship. 

You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.

A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.

It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.

What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather. 

There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.

“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”

“You made this?”

“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery. 

“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head. 

“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel. 

“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head. 

The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room. 

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture. 

“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him. 

Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face. 

“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you. 

You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck. 

“Dance with me.” 

It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.

It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.

“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”

Giddy.

It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head. 

You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week. 

Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there. 

You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.

Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore. 

Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier. 

A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.

Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.

You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you. 

Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.

“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die. 

“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins. 

It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark. 

You’re dead.

It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.

A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him. 

“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.

“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”

“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him. 

He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.

“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”

“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”

The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before. 

“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”

[sensei-venus]

Mama’s Boy, Stress Relief (Robby Keene x Chubby!Reader)

(Unedited) (Mommy Kink, Tit Sucking, Cumming In Pants, Stress Relief, Reader taking care of her boyfriend)

The pout on Robby's lips was very telling of how he was feeling. It wasn't often that the dirty blond wear a genuine pout. It was something that only ever occurred on a blue moon. It was common to see him scowl or grimace at something. Not getting his way was something that happened a lot but nothing caused him enough pain to pout.

So when Robby walked into his and Reader’s shared apartment after a long day of work, she knew something was really wrong.

Her eyes glanced over at his from the corner of her eye. Watching as he put his bag down by the door and kicked his shoes off. Huffing as he slid them off his feet and tossed them to the floor. He slowly made his way into the kitchen, head hung just a little lower than what Reader would have liked from him. Robby tried to keep his spirits up no matter what so this was a big change from his usual vibe.

“Hey babe, you doing okay? How was work?” she questioned as he fully entered the room. She was busy doing the last of her daily work on the computer. Quickly shooting off one last email before closing her laptop and giving Robby her full attention. She cocked her head as she watched him open the fridge and pull out a cold bottle of water. Taking a few sips he hummed at her, eyes downcast as he finished a long sip from his drink. She didn't really like that look at all. She gave him a moment to speak but nothing ever came out leaving the room silent.

“Robby?”

“It was okay I guess…”his reply was short and bitter sounding as he looked at the floor.

This definitely didn't sit right with Reader which is why she quickly stood up and walked past Robby. This left him in the kitchen alone as she walked to the living room. Sitting down on the couch she threw a “Robby please come in here.” in the air. The soft sound of feet shuffling filled the air as he followed her voice into the other room. He sat his water bottle on the coffee table before walking over to her. He stood quietly in front of her for a good long moment before the silence was broken.

“Come here Robby, sit on my lap.” Robby's face slowly turned a light shade of pink. Color dusted his cheeks as he obeyed his girlfriend's words. Robby had always been a bit more resistant to some of Reader's approaches on some things. He was good at taking orders but he still had a bit of how you say, fright. Secretly he was scared he would mess up and cause the girl to become upset at him for not doing as she asked of him. Sitting on her soft lap was something he enjoyed but was also sacred of. Feeling her thick thighs under him was nice but also scared him. Mostly the idea of accidentally hurting her always came to mind more than he would have liked.

Once he was fully on her lap she gave him a small peak to the cheeks. He slightly relaxed at the small kiss. His body slowly going lax under her eyes and body slumping just a little. It made her smile as she held him close.

She gave him a small smile while giving his hand a squeeze while saying “I don't think that was a very good answer. Did something bad happen at work today?” Robby gave a small nod.

“Do you want to talk about it, Sometimes that tends to help.” She gave him another kiss on the cheek as she finished her statement. He shook his head with a deep sigh. His eyes wandered to the other side of the room, avoiding her gaze altogether. With that she gave him a grin.

She pulled at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up and tucking it under her chin. Licking her lips she said “If that’s the case…maybe mama can make you feel better in another way then.” she grinned at his flushed face. His eyes slowly crept over to look back at her. Eyes darting to her exposed cleavage, bra doing just enough to hide her heavy tits. His eyes locked on the tiny metal clasp in the middle of the fabric. It sat right between her breasts snug against her skin.

With a flick of the wrist the little metal clasp was split open letting her heavy tits fall free. They spilled out hanging heavy on her chest. Her soft nipples sitting pretty all for him. Robby could feel his mouth watering just by looking at them. His eyes widen as he looks at her for some kind of confirmation on what she was hinting at. She gave him a small nod.

“Let Mama take care of you baby, let me make you feel better after such a hard day.” she pulls him down into her warm breasts. Robby moans as he snuggled into her soft flesh. His hands gently worked at her sides. Moving up from her chubby belly to cup her underboob. He did his best to hold each one in his palms but they easily spilled over in his hands.

He insticfuly licks his lips before bending down and sucking on a nipple. It hardens against his flat tongue. His eyes flutter shut at the new feeling. He relaxes as he uses her breasts as stress toys. 

“There you go, just relax for me. Such a good boy aren't you Robby. Your be so good for me right now.” She softly smiled down at him while he suckled at her. He moaned lightly as he drew closer to her. Her arms wrapped around him and rocked him a little.

One of her hands found yet back of his head, fingers laced through his brownish golden locks. Her fingertips scratched against his scalp just right to have him shivering. Her other hand rubbed at his back. Making circles over the fabric of the dress shirt he wears. It's just enough to have him completely zone out.

Reader stops herself from giggling when she feels something poking her belly. It's hard and warm through his pants. She can already guess what it is by the way his hips try to jerk. Over time the jerking starts to become despret rutting. Brushing against the underside of her soft belly. His breathing starts to become more heavy as the minutes. His suckling starts to get harder and harder, his grip on her other tit getting stronger as well.

When his legs jerk and his hips snap she knows.

The wet stain that starts to bloom at the front of his pants speaks volumes.

With a loud pop, he detaches from Reader’s overly sensitive nipple. It's hard and engorged, dripping with Robby’s spit. Robby looks at her with a dopey look. His eyes hazed over as he still clung to her waist. Lips were plump and red from his earlier actions.

With a smile Reader says “You feeling any better now that Mama helped you get some stress out?”

“Yes.”

“Umm good, next time you need to let some stress out you just come to me. You know I'm always here for you.” she gets closer to his ear.

“Mama always knows how to make you feel good, just remember that.”

Robby’s feels himself flush over her words and ducks into her neck.

Sometimes his girlfriend knows just the way to keep him on his toes at all times.

[hestzhyen]

An Extremely Subjective HakuHiro Romantic Trope Breakdown

Greetings, void. This arc is rough and the brainworms won't let me write my own hurt/comfort fan fiction- they demand half-baked analysis instead of lovemaking. So have the closest thing that passes for fluff from yours truly.

In essence, this is just a list of the explicitly romantic tropes I love applying to HakuHiro with varying degrees of gushing ship babble as justification. Some are definitely skewed hard towards headcanon but there's always at least a tenuous connection to something that's demonstrated in the work itself. Proceed if this kind of brain rot sounds like your jam! Otherwise just please let me die from cringe in peace.

Battle Couple

Offense and support working in perfect harmony.

So this is just one of my personal favourites, but Chihiro and Hakuri definitely have strong vibes for this trope. They fought together in an absolutely stunning display of mutual trust and understanding in the Rakuzaichi Arc. Seriously, these guys pulled off some truly spine-tingly good moves to take down Kyora despite Hakuri only just awakening to his powers the very same day.

They demonstrated this again in the train fight protecting Uruha- Hakuri and Chihiro only need the bare minimum of communication between them to fight in style. I look forward to more chances for them to show off their teamwork! If they end up fighting back-to-back in canon I'll probably just straight up ascend to fudanshi heaven on the spot. I LOVE BATTLE COUPLES.

Love at First Sight/Rescue Romance

"This is the kind of man I need in my life."

Love at First Sight is pretty self-explanatory: person A sees person B and immediately falls head over heels. It's easy to slap that on Hakuri in his introduction chapter- he's only missing an invitation to get to know each other over some coffee when they finally meet up, really. Unless asking someone to help you kill your family is the Kagurabachi universe's equivalent...?

As for Rescue Romance, it's another very simple scenario: person A is saved by person B, which causes them to fall in love. Chihiro saves Hakuri with the other random people at the site of Sojo's massacre attempt, and Hakuri... yeah. You get it.

I think there's a better trope to associate to this later on in the list, but Love at First Sight and Rescue Romance are still apt and very funny tropes to apply towards Hakuri's first impression of Chihiro. The way he waxed poetic over the mystery samurai who saved and inspired him had me in stitches. Seriously, my oldest notes on Hakuri from that chapter are mostly just laughing about him being really passionate about Chihiro for someone who's not intended to be a love interest! Go get 'im, Hakuri. He needs you in his life just as much as you need him in yours.

Mindlink Mates

Don't need to hear each other at all if you just "get" them.

This is something I like to apply as a Fanon concept based on what happens in canon. Hakuri and Chihiro aren't literally linked mind-to-mind via telepathy, but both of them have a deep understanding of what the other's thinking and feeling at any given moment. I really like the concept that they understand everything about each other on an instinctual level. It's mostly fueled by the Aun concepts that have been associated to them, which I'll get into during a later section. But yeah. Hakuri and Chihiro being borderline telepathic in how they can sense the other's status. That's crack cocaine to me and it's not too far removed from canon so I'm running with it.

I also really like the idea of their strong emotions and desires bouncing off of and amplifying each other's, but I don't know if there's a specific trope for that, so it gets placed here at the end of this tangentially related section. Also not something far removed from canon given how they both fuel each other's self-destructive savior tendencies because they feel the same way!

Moe Couplet

They're so cuuuuuuuuuuuuuute

A Moe Couplet is essentially a pair of characters that enhance each other's cute traits. Separate, they are perfectly fine individuals with their own appeal. Together, they are adorable and capable of some tooth-rottingly sweet moments. This trope isn't typically associated with romantic duos in stuff aimed at general audiences, but it's common in BL as the basis for "fluff" works and wholesome pairings.

This is probably the biggest stretch to apply towards canon on the list, honestly. We haven't seen that much moe moe action from Hakuri and Chihiro- they're kind of busy fighting for their lives or hurting themselves to save others most of the time. But the few moments we get send me straight into cuteness agression-induced brain rot every time I think of them.

Most of this trope label for HakuHiro comes from little details. Like Chihiro often being shown reassuring Hakuri, and Hakuri getting some of the sweetest smiles out of him in return. Hakuri brings out Chihiro's soft side when Char's not around to do so and Chihiro helps Hakuri be his absolute silliest. These guys are are so good to each other! They melt the ice around my cold, dead heart into a slurry of hnnngh and incoherent shipper screeching.

What's it actually based on though? Well, I thought I was just doing normal delusional fudanshi things by thinking Hakuri is extra cute when he's around Chihiro and vice versa. But then Hokazono-sensei threw me a bone in an interview by saying he intended for Hakuri to "bring out Chihiro's personality and add some cuteness". And I. Just. I exploded into confetti on the spot. MOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

One True Love

This ship is not merely an OTP to me, if you haven't noticed.

Note: "ai" is not inherently romantic despite it being the end-goal of pretty much every romance novel out there. It's for deep, profound affection felt for someone- friends, family, even pets. It's rare and not commonly said aloud outside of the climax of a love story is all!

This is mostly tied to Hakuri's experience with love growing up and how he can find out what 愛 [ai, purest and deepest love], really means.

Hakuri probably has no fucking clue what love of any kind is really supposed to look or feel like, much less the ultimate form of it. His father threw ai around as something to manipulate his children into serving the family tradition. Soya used it as an excuse to torture him. This was deliberately done to contrast with the love that Chihiro knew growing up- true ai between father and son, which was cruelly ripped away from him.

So let Chihiro teach Hakuri, and Hakuri provide in return. They're already each other's perfect partners anyway so just put a romantic spin on it!

Hakuri finding unconditional love he doesn't fear in Chihiro and Chihiro finding the same in Hakuri once more. Neither of them ever needing to fall in love again because they slot together so perfectly to fill the gaps in each other's hearts. Oh I'm gonna die...

Opposites Attract

If not meant to be canon, why colour coded as opposite compliments? :thonk:

This is the trope that activates a primitive part of my brain that overrides all thoughts with eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee noises when it comes to HakuHiro. Hakuri and Chihiro are true opposites that are perfectly balanced to contrast and compliment each other, resulting in a duo greater than the sum of it's parts.

Hokazono-sensei made his intentions about Hakuri and Chihiro extremely clear by going so far as to colour code them for us. This is the protagonist and his foil/deuteragonist guy who is Important as Fuck. The level of detail in designing and writing them reads like he took this trope extremely seriously and said "let's save the Hero + Lancer coding for Hiyuki instead". 'Cause as much as I love her, Hiyuki's got nothing on Hakuri when it comes to this trope. Her thing is closer to being the same person as Chihiro with the opposite frame of mind and mode of expression- it's Hakuri and Chihiro who are the true manifestation of Opposites Attract down to the tiniest details. I'm ready to die on this hill so come at me and put me out of my misery.

I mean just look at these guys:

Chihiro: black and red, stoic, reserved, serious and polite, slim and straight profile.

Hakuri: white and blue, emotive, outgoing, silly and casual, loose and boxy profile.

They invert the same ways under pressure; Chihiro stresses and falters while Hakuri focuses and buckles down. Their fucking backstories are in on it too: they both lost their father's love but under distinctly opposite circumstances. Even the love they received was contrasted since Kunishige was a perfectly wholesome dad while Kyoura used love in an abusively manipulative way! And that laid the foundation for the premise of the Rakuzaichi arc- Hakuri wants to destroy his family's legacy while Chihiro still wants to do right by his. It would take a whole 'nother post to list everything between them because every single detail about one is carefully crafted to be present in the other in order to complete their characters. It's absolutely insane and it's what really sold me on the ship.

The level of care put into writing Hakuri and Chihiro as opposites who complete each other is out of this fucking world. I'll feel sorry for whatever girl gets assigned to be a mandatory heterosexual love interest for either of them because there's just no way to compete when two people are written to be so thoroughly intertwined with each other.

(To clarify just in case: I don't think Chiyuki is a bad ship. I'm not trying to trash it and say HakuHiro's better or more legitimate somehow. I just have an issue with shounen romance in general because the girls don't get nearly as much narrative effort to make them compelling companions to the MC compared to the "best friends" and Kagurabachi is doing nothing new in that regard so far. Hokazono-sensei can actually make a bigger impact by refusing to tease Chihiro and Hiyuki at all instead of going down the tired old path of obligated sub-par heterosexual ship tease/romance IMO.)

The Power of Love

Nice Heroic Second Wind you got after thinking about Chihiro there, Hakuri.

So this is definitely skewed towards pure delusion on my part, but that's what we're all here for anyway. Power of Friendship? Never heard of it.

Basically, person A uses their love for person B to power up and overcome the hardship they're facing. In this case, I'm interpreting Hakuri's tendency to think of Chihiro when he's in dire straits as romantic!

Hakuri comes in clutch a lot and his feelings abut Chihiro are the reason he can do it. The memory of his samurai refusing to yield gives Hakuri the strength to keep standing and finally put Soya down in chapter 36. He does it again in a sadder way in Chapter 58 when he thinks of Chihiro and musters the last of his strength to summon him too late to save Uruha. I have no doubt that he'll have more of these moments as the series goes on, too. Chihiro is kind of hope incarnate to Hakuri.

Chihiro's drawn strength from his feelings for Hakuri too, but not in a pinch kind of way like the Power of Love trope typically implies. I'm just waiting for the day when it's his turn to use memories of Hakuri to keep standing (never gonna happen)!

Ship Tease

Putting this here for lack of a better term, but there's a running gag about Hakuri and Chihiro's relationship that's been escalating in intensity since the early parts of the Rakuzaichi arc. It only comes across in bits and pieces in English compared to Japanese, sadly, but I'll do my best to explain it.

Basically, I'm interpreting the jokes about Hakuri acting like a dog as deliberate ship tease for the lols from the author.

"Paw. Shake. Good boy."

It starts in chapter 28 with Hakuri dropping everything he's doing to run over to Chihiro when his name is called. It's really cute and funny and not something that can get lost in translation- Chihiro calls, and Hakuri comes. Just like a loyal dog to it's master.

It's set aside for a while until the Sword Bearer Assassination Arc starts up and Hiyuki drops this banger during the trial in chapter 46:

"But where he [Hakuri] stands is a big pain in the butt. He's not the one calling the shots." - official TL

Of note is the term Hiyuki used to say that Chihiro's the one in charge: 舵取り [kajitori]. The normal meaning for it is "steering a boat" or "helmsman" with the secondary being leader/director, so it's not like the English TL messed up. Same meaning different wording. What's lost is the subtext: 舵取り as Hiyuki's using it can also imply that Chihiro's in charge of Hakuri like the owner of a dangerous guard dog would be lmao. Hakuri kind of earned that jab after threatening to leave her in the storehouse to die if she hurt Chihiro, though.

And then there's this completely unnecessary scene from Ch. 50...

"Who's this? This little squirt smells like Chihiro, but he's not Chihiro."- official TL

The TL again isn't bad here but it really downplays just how fucking weird Samura is (which downgrades the rocket propellant to mere ship fuel). Samura's phrasing about Hakuri smelling like Chihiro was so batshit insane in Japanese that fellow JP shippers felt compelled to reach out to the rest of us in English to let us know, which is almost completely unheard of.

Basically, Samura wasn't saying that Hakuri merely smelled like Chihiro. He actually said that Hakuri was wearing Chihiro's scent, completely enveloped in it to the point of smelling identical to him. A native JP reader (in the link above) said that in their interpretation, the word "まとって [matotte]" isn't really used for friends, but more for lovers, family members, or dogs and their owners in the sense that being so physically close all the time causes their scents to rub off on each other.

It's not a normal term used to describe smelling like someone in the first place. When Samura meets younger Chihiro in the flashback and says he "reeks of Rokuhira", he uses the typical word for "smell/scent" (香り [kaori]) in Japanese. So for some reason we just had to know that Hakuri smelled like Chihiro in the way dog or a lover would, huh... so much so that Samura thought he actually was Chihiro... (I can't get over this, it sends my sides into orbit every fucking time).

So yeah. That's some top-tier ship tease if I do say so myself. What that dog doin'? What did they get up to on the train before meeting with Uruha? That's for us to decide!

Soulmates

It's not exactly hard to see that Hakuri and Chihiro have a bit more going on between them than standard friendship or brotherhood, even for a shounen series. Even some dudebros acknowledged this before the fandom gave over to homophobic trash anyway.

It all stems from Hakuri invoking one of the most potent romantic tropes there is as soon as they meet:

"That day, a samurai lit my helpless existence on fire."

Jesus Christ Hakuri, that's some passion!

I think the "soulmates" trope is the most fitting description of what's going on between Hakuri and Chihiro from the very first time they meet. I'll even go so far to say that it actually has a pretty damn good case for being canon in a platonic sense!

For the uninitiated (like I was), the soulmates trope is invoked when two characters feel a strong and immediate connection upon first meeting each other. It can be one-sided or even completely rejected by both at the start, but they will always find their way to each other since they are fated to be. The whole world falls into kilter when they get together even if they were perfectly functional people on their own before. HakuHiro is this trope to a fucking T in my mind. Absolutely flawless execution, 10/10 no notes.

Hakuri's part is obvious- he sees Chihiro and decides he must have this amazing person in his life no matter what. He feels the pull of destiny and answers the call with an overabundance of enthusiasm.

Chihiro's part is more subtle. He does the one-sided rejection thing at the start by running away, but fate pulls them together via circumstance and he takes Hakuri back with him. And somehow, for some reason, Hakuri is the first person he opens up about his genuine feelings to in a surprisingly raw way:

"If I don't do something, and a sacred blade takes the lives of innocent people... I wouldn't be able to bear that..."

He met the guy minutes ago, tried to run away from him, then decided to bear his heart to him in the elevator. Chihiro's a natural stoic who doesn't show much of what he's feeling and generally keeps thoughts like this to himself. But Hakuri brings out this softer, more vulnerable side to him that no other character has before. Then as the arc progresses, Chihiro comes to rely on Hakuri more and more until it's crazy to think that he ever ran away in the first place. It's like they were always meant to find and save each other.

I'm not looking too hard at this with shipping goggles strapped to my face. We get confirmation that this is what's going on with them via The Word of God Himself:

From the Volume 4 description: 一方、兄からの愛と暴力によって地に伏した伯理。今際の際に脳裏を過ったのは、ある少女との日々だった。極限の中、二人の少年の魂が呼応する。

"Meanwhile, Hakuri is struck down by his brother's love and violence. On the brink of death, he remembers the days he spent with a certain girl. In the midst of this extreme tension, the souls of both boys resonate with each other."

The last sentence is basically more total harmony/Aun imagery for Hakuri and Chihiro. 呼 (ko) means to call and 応 (ou) means to respond. Together, 呼応 means to act in concert. So Hakuri and Chihiro's souls call out and respond to each other in perfect sync when they're in dire straits. It's canon!

If that's not enough, then there's also the Aun imagery. It was left out of the EN Chapter 38 colour page as usual (never gonna forgive the EN version for removing the text), but basically the author used deliberate religious imagery to tell us that Chihiro and Hakuri have an inherently harmonious relationship. A and Un, in perfect sync- whatever one starts, the other will finish. The beginning and end of all things. A perfect pair.

They demonstrate this lethal effectiveness by working in tandem during the storehouse fight, with Chihiro only needing to yell Hakuri's name for Hakuri to perfectly interpret everything he's thinking and execute on it flawlessly. It's absolutely insane stuff even if we disregard Hakuri only woke up to his power less than an hour ago in-universe isn't it?! And they repeated the stunt the next day while protecting Uruha, so it wasn't just a one-off for a cool moment. It's core to their dynamic for their souls to resonate in total harmony!

And just to top it off, we got a funny little gag of Chihiro and Hakuri passing out and waking up at the same time side-by-side after the auction, totally in sync.

All of this within a week of meeting each other.

Some actual romantic soulmate couples don't get this much effort put into coding their relationship, just saying. I also don't think people would be so quick to jump on the sibling interpretation after Shiba's "What are ya, twins?" joke if Hakuri and Chihiro were a heterosexual ship option, just sayin'.

Unknowingly in Love

No sad pictures of dead Kunishige in this post!

This is another one that's far closer to fanon than canon. It banks on the fact that both of them grew up isolated and, quite frankly, probably poorly socialized compared to the rest of the world.

Chihiro lived with just his dad in a remote mountain home and only occasionally visited the town nearby with Shiba. No friends, no school even. Hakuri lived on the secluded Sazanami estate surrounded by his family and saw some of the outside world, but likely only the criminal elements of it. Plus there's the whole growing up only knowing love as something abusive and manipulative thing; even his parent's marriage was strongly implied to be arranged and joyless. Neither of these guys have anything decent in their personal lives to reference from!

So in my mind, while Hakuri and Chihiro have certainly heard of romantic love and thought about it themselves, they wouldn't really have an idea of what it feels or looks like to them. Couple that with being each other's first friends ever and you've got some extremely potent fluff (or angst) about them being unaware that what they're feeling isn't platonic.

You Are Worth Hell

I will follow you into the dark.

And to round things off, one of my favourite romance tropes ever! But it's not canon at all- YET.

You see, Hakuri and Chihiro are constantly pulling each other forward. When one stumbles, the other's there with a helping hand. But what happens when one descends into hell like Chihiro says he's doing this very arc? Will the other try to throw them a lifeline and hope for the best?

Nay! The other will stay by their side out of love.

This trope can veer too close to toxic situationship scenarios for comfort, it's true. Characters staying to "save" someone or letting themself get dragged down at their own expense is not healthy at all. But the core sentiment of this trope is that anything is bearable if you're with the one you love. The emphasis isn't on the mutual suffering but rather the comfort of being together despite it all.

My personal interpretation of the relationship between Hakuri and Chihiro is that one was born in hell (Hakuri) and the other has condemned himself to it (Chihiro). Hakuri's trying to rise up while Chihiro has consigned himself to sink further into the darkness. They met at at a crossroads on their respective journeys and are walking together for a while. And when Chihiro takes a turn to keep going further down, I think Hakuri will stop him from going too far. Hakuri will be the light in the gloom until the mission's over. Then they'll figure out if they can make it back up or not. And if they can't? Well, he was already at rock bottom before Chihiro came into his life. It's worth it to stay in hell at his side and face everything together.

So I think this can apply very well to HakuHiro as the current arc progresses. Hakuri choosing to stay as a partner to provide support rather than trying to save Chihiro at his own expense would be huge character growth for him. And Chihiro accepting Hakuri's gesture would be growth for him too- he doesn't have to do this alone. There's no truly Bad End for their stories if they are walking side-by-side to face the hardships together until the end.

That's it. If you got through all this, thanks. Yap at me about tropes I missed! I love hearing the myriad ways other people interpret this ship. Unless you think fixed left-right boring seme/uke stereotype ChiHaku is the only valid interpretation, in which case we can never be friends. Sorry not sorry.

[thetriumphantpanda]

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’. 

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do. 

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things. 

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking. 

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head. 

“No, why?” 

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.” 

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you. 

“They’re delicious.” 

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you. 

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist. 

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.” 

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?” 

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.” 

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good. 

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise. 

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body. 

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease. 

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table. 

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly. 

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little. 

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?” 

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.” 

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.” 

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” 

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up. 

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Running away?” 

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.” 

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks. 

“If I have to.” You answer back. 

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.” 

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office. 

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations.  Your bag sits on the floor next to it. 

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk. 

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.” 

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.” 

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself. 

“You looking that sinful.” 

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?” 

He smirks, “As real as you and I.” 

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip. 

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it. 

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed. 

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to? 

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?” 

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath. 

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though. 

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.” 

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up. 

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing. 

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.” 

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?” 

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.” 

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug. 

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.” 

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life. 

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.” 

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks. 

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it. 

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain. 

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough. 

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly. 

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him. 

“Your mouth.” 

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties. 

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.” 

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.” 

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?” 

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” 

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge. 

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head. 

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue. 

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?” 

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk. 

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good. 

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun. 

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again. 

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.” 

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.” 

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now. 

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.” 

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster. 

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.” 

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright. 

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?” 

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.” 

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse. 

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. 

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man. 

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.” 

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?” 

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on. 

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel. 

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.” 

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.” 

[blackhairedjjun]

the forest of you

pairing: choi soobin x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, cottagecore au, fantasy au, prince!soobin x witch!reader, mutual pining, just very soft vibes | word count: 1.9k | warnings: none, just a little (friendly) teasing

summary: prince soobin lives undercover as a commoner as part of a royal tradition, and you are the local potion-maker tasked with caring for him and magically maintaining his disguise. you take him to the forest one day to forage for ingredients, and you start to realize just how much you need him with you.

author's notes: i wrote this after binge-listening to soobin's forest cover, it was just soooo comforting and beautiful 🥰🥰 this fic isn't that overtly romantic since i mostly focused on recreating the comforting vibes and message of the original cover, but the pining is still there (i hope). the premise of this story is based on an idea i had some time ago but never turned into a fic, i do have ideas for fics in the same setting though!

(support by reblogging banner by @/cafekitsune)

“y’know, soobin, you’ve become less scared of the forest since you got here,” you say, swinging your herb basket back and forth as you walk.

“oh really?” the prince stares at you, his mouth agape at first before morphing into his familiar dimpled smile. cute. “i suppose that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“it’s a very good thing. having company with me is nice.”

soobin trails behind you as you trudge down the worn dirt paths of the forest, trees on all sides towering over you. you hum as you walk, eyes on the lookout for anything of use in your potions: flowers, berries, mushrooms, seeds, leaves, even fallen bird feathers. from time to time you turn back to glance at your ward, who follows at a comfortable pace while gazing at the canopy above him.

he stops in his tracks and points at a patch of mushrooms growing on the bark of a tree. the mushrooms are at his eye level, above your head. “wait, these are the ones you use for my disguise potion, right?”

“that’s right! i missed that 一 thank goodness i’ve got a tall person helping me out.”

soobin pries the mushrooms from the bark hands it to you, a proud grin on his face. you can’t help but smile yourself in admiration, and your smile only grows when his hands brush yours while he places them in your basket. “thank you,” you whisper.

now you walk side-by-side through the forest, and you much prefer it this way. even with his princely nature hidden, you find something reassuring about his presence: soobin towers over you, but he moves slowly, deliberately matching his stride to yours, even the swinging of his arms in sync. he stays close by you, as if protecting you from anything that might leap out of the forest, and your arms nearly brush his a few times.

every now and then you stop to take something from the forest: a cluster of deep red berries, a yellow-green fern growing in swirling patterns, a flower so white it practically shines on the forest floor. soobin gazes at you intently as you do your job, and you’re so engrossed in your work that you miss the soft smile that crosses his face while he observes.

“did you really do all this by yourself before i came here?” he asks as you step through a narrow space between two gnarled trees. in the distance some birds begin to caw, but you don’t even flinch at the sound.

“pretty much. i’m used to it, i guess.”

“and you weren’t lonely or scared? that’s really cool, y/n.”

“i wasn’t always like this,” you say as you pry another mushroom from some tree bark for soobin’s disguise potion. “the first time i went on my own, i wanted to prove to my parents that i could forage by myself. y’know, be a real witch and everything. but i was shaking the whole time... and i missed my parents so much. they used to point out the different birds to me while they foraged, or they’d just look at me all excited if they found a rare ingredient. and that’s what i missed the most, just having someone to be with.”

soobin presses his lips together as he listens to you. you’ve been foraging on your own for years, and though you tell yourself that you’re used to it, your heart aches at the memory. you turn to face him and your eyes meet. 

“i get what you mean,” he says. “when i first came here for my incognito period, i remember missing everyone a lot. my parents and all the palace staff... kai, beomgyu... your cottage was so quiet in comparison. not that it’s a bad place, it’s just...”

“not home?”

soobin nods, his gaze falling to the dried leaves on the forest floor. the two of you continue walking through the forest, stopping only a few minutes later so that you can collect a few wild berries from a bush.

“it feels more like home now, though,” soobin says as he crouches down to help you. “i like the smell of the herbs from your garden and how toasty the cauldron room is. and helping you is, ah, it’s fun... you care about your potions so much and i like watching you work.”

you laugh softly to yourself, turning away as you feel a warmth spread through your cheeks. “it’s... well, i’m used to it. and having you around has helped a lot.”

“sometimes i feel more like a bother than a help. you work so fast!”

“don’t say that, you’re plenty helpful. look at you right now, i would have missed some of the berries hidden here if it weren’t for you.”

with the berries collected and placed in your basket, you stand up at the same time. you don’t realize at first how close soobin is standing to you, but your eyes meet his and you can’t bring it in yourself to look away. the prince gazes at you as if trying to speak without words, as if telling you from his presence alone that everything will be alright.

he reminds you of the forest too, you think: tall and quiet and seemingly stern, but filled with a cool comfort all his own. 

your mutual reverie is broken by the cawing of a nearby flock of birds. soobin jumps and nearly falls; you grab onto his hand and you both wobble before he finds his balance.

“sorry...”

“it’s一it’s fine.” your hand is still holding onto his, and your cheeks feel hot. “we should keep moving.”

the two of you continue through the forest, taking care not to travel too deep but stay at the periphery. soobin stays close to you, and you thread your arm through his 一 this will slow your pace, but you don’t mind.

“by the way, i changed the measurements of the disguise potion a bit,” you say as soobin crouches down to pick some flowerbuds. “i’m not sure if you felt any difference.”

“oh really? it felt the same to me.” he shrugs and places the flowerbuds in your basket. “i always feel... disoriented when i use it.”

“i know, that’s why i was trying to change it...”

“don’t worry about it too much.” soobin glances up at a tree branch right above him, and a cool breeze blows down on both of you. “it’s just... when i’m a prince, i feel shy from all the people watching me, but when i’m disguised, it feels odd not being recognized, as if no one cares about me. does that make sense?”

you’re quiet for a few moments. you glance up at the canopy, then back at soobin; prince or not, there’s something about him that feels right at home here. 

“i see what you mean... being around others is exhausting, but being by yourself is lonely. right?”

“yeah, exactly.”

“what about being with me?” you give him a teasing grin. “do you ever get sick of me?”

he grins right back at you, even rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. “yeah, i get totally sick of you. when i become prince again i’m banishing you so that i never see you again.”

“you could never do that, i bet. who’s going to make the potions of soothing to help you fall asleep, huh?”

“i’ve been stuck with you long enough that i could make it myself!”

you elbow him gently and you both laugh. the sound rings through the forest, and it makes the place seem smaller and warmer than it is.

you’ve often wondered what will happen when soobin’s incognito period ends and he goes back to his princely role. when the royal family first approached you to help with their son’s journey 一 apparently an old tradition to help future monarchs stay in touch with the common folk 一 you didn’t think much of it. you’d get an apprentice, make a few extra potions of disguise for him, then collect a hefty royal commission after eighteen months. at first, it had been nothing more than a chance to get an extra pair of hands and supplement your income as a potion-making witch.

but as you walk through the forest, arm in arm with soobin, you realize that you like the new routine you’ve established. the young prince helps you sell potions and make bread for meals, and more than once you’ve caught him giving harsh glares at rude customers who want to use your potions for nefarious purposes. and though his accompaniment to your weekly forages were originally nothing more than an excuse to get some help, you now find it impossible to imagine going on them without him.

soobin and the forest and you: in your mind they all fit together.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that he has to move in front of you to catch your attention. “y/n?”

“oh 一 sorry!”

“you know i was just kidding, right?”

“huh...?”

“about banishing you, i mean,” he says. “i like being around you too much.”

“ah 一 yeah! d-don’t worry, i know,” you say, and now even your ears are warm together with your cheeks. “and um, thank you.”

you blink a few times and glance around. the trees have become more gnarled and more densely packed together. you realize that the two of you are starting to approach the heart of the forest; go any deeper and things will get dangerous, not just from wild animals but also from wild magic. “uh, we should... go back...”

soobin nods and waits for you to lead the way before falling in beside you. again he offers his arm, and you thread yours around it. with his free hand he offers to carry your basket for you; it has gotten heavier from the foraging you’ve been doing. you shake your head and give him a polite smile, letting him know that you can carry it just fine, but the gesture opens up a lightness in your heart.

the walk back to the main road is quiet, but not awkwardly so. such moments of silence are not uncommon with soobin, but they have a comfort all their own; the prince smiles to himself as he walks, taking the time to admire the lush green canopy above or the carpet of flowers and ferns growing in between the tree roots. you find yourself sneaking glances at him and following his gaze to whatever plant has caught his attention 一 you’re so used to forest forages that you’ve forgotten how to stop and admire the scenery.

can you really imagine the forest without him? you feel his arm wound around yours, anchoring you, and it reminds you of the tree roots beneath your feet.

by the time you reach the edge of the forest, the sun has started to set and the sky has turned orange. rays of yellow light peek through the remains of the canopy. you put your free hand up to your face to block out the most blinding rays, and soobin tightens his grip around your arm. 

“let’s go home?” he says. 

you turn to him and smile. he looks radiant in this light.

“let’s go home.”