#I’m not gonna be bothered to tag all of them when this is a list thing

[no1ryomafan]

My ass is in need of a desperate thing to do bc I finished big o and I feel empty despite REALLY LIKING IT it’s just because my ass hardly has any motivation to write or draw all I can do is just play video games even if I’m not even touching new ones I keep replaying the same comfort games but my main options on my to watch list are:

-reasonable length of 24 episodes but it’s apparently super fucking depressing and everyone advises I don’t watch it despite it being in my reader for awhile (casshern sins)

-even more reasonable length of 12 episodes and is more toku stuff but I’ve seen no one talk about it (guyver)

-the most reasonable length of 7 episodes- but all of them are nearly a hour so how the fuck does that keep my attention span (giant robo)

-not at all reasonable length for me because it’s 50 episodes so I should wait until I’ve watched more 20 ep anime and see I can get through a 40 ep anime but I think about it anyways (Astro boy/cyborg 009, ignore how this is two)

I should probably just make a poll about this but my tumblr polls don’t get a lot of traction and Twitter I’m scared if I end up chickening out bc I’ve done this with- a lot of polls which is also reasonable I don’t wanna make one 💀 might just ask friend opinion but if anyone knows any of these feel free to drop something in the comments.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Roads Untraveled 1

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is. 

[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]

Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers

Note: I finally did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

‘When he went away  The blues walked in and met me  Oh, yeah if he stays away  Old rocking chair’s gonna get me  All I do is pray...’ 

You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you. 

You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones. 

You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent. 

Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue. 

A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight. 

There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line. 

You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.  

Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they’re moving, even if they sound agonized. 

You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides. 

You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive. 

You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang. 

You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness. 

You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here. 

You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward. 

“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?” 

No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again. 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily. 

You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top. 

“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America. 

You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses. 

“Captain America?” You utter dumbly. 

He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm. 

“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.” 

You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place. 

He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right? 

He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs. 

“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?” 

He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.” 

You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow. 

“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?” 

He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.” 

He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint. 

“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?” 

He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek. 

“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl. 

“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.” 

He glances around and nods, “got a back door?” 

“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction. 

He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.” 

“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him. 

“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.” 

“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers. 

“Sure, it’s three.” 

“Number?” 

“310.” 

“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign. 

You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him. 

“It’s unlocked,” you say. 

He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table. 

He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly. 

“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through. 

“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” 

“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.” 

He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you. 

You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.  

He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath. 

“You okay?” He turns the question on you. 

“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile. 

You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance. 

“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...” 

“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.” 

You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.” 

“Right,” you work more diligently. 

He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity. 

“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?” 

“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are. 

“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial. 

“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?” 

You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach. 

“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut. 

“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.” 

He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand. 

“You must be pretty far along,” he says. 

“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.” 

“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?” 

“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.” 

You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack. 

“So, you want some?” You ask. 

He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.” 

“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.” 

He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--” 

“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say. 

Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.” 

“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.” 

“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...” 

Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods. 

“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.” 

[itostea]

rings (gojo x wife! reader)

in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring

warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list

There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 

Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 

“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”

You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”

“On the same bed?”

“Yes?”

“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”

“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.

Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”

You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”

“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.

“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”

“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”

“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”

They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”

“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”

“That’s not really my way of doing things…”

Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”

You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.

Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”

You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”

“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”

“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 

By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 

You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 

“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”

“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 

The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”

Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”

He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 

He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”

All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”

“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”

“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 

It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”

Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”

You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 

“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 

He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”

“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.

Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 

You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”

“Because I just can’t!” 

“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 

“I can’t ‘Toru–”

“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”

You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”

You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”

He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”

You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well

It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.

You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 

You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 

His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”

Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 

It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 

“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 

And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.

tags:

@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot

[marlenesluv]

Hiiiii beautiful. I an idea if you don't want to write it. that's okay. I have this imagine like charles dating an plusize (face claim : Javiera or courtney jean l just loves them ) but when they announced their relationship but she just getting a lot of hate but she just doesn't care about this hate but charles don't like this and release a statement to stop this hate. and again if you don't want to write it that's okay 💞💞

Hate doesn’t bother me. (CL)

hi, love!! and no no, i love this so much! charles is such a protective cutie, this is so sweet. i’m assuming this is a smau, if you want a fic as well, js lemme know! :) 💓

face claim: javiera

warnings: fans being mean, one fat shaming comment (dw, it’s shut down)

note: i have been fat shamed before, it’s not fun. so pls pls be kind to everyone. every single one of these beautiful humans on earth are amazing and sexc. don’t be a cunt.

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: yourbsf, charles_leclerc, and 325,828 others

y/n.user: panamá is perfect for dates, don’t ya think?

view comments…

user57: why tf did charles leclerc like this?

|> user04: he could js be friends with her? idk man

yourbsf: OKAYYYY YOU ATE BABE🤎🤎

|> y/n.user: AHHHHH ILY🤎

y/n.fp: you look stunningggg

*liked by creator*

charles.fans: isn’t charles in panama??

|> char.fp: hopefully not. she is not the vibe fr

|> charles.fans: ikr?? no way she’s with him

lilymhe: ☺️☺️ pretty pretty

|> y/n.user: that’s you🤭

user19: LILY?? oh naw, i don’t need THIS tdy

_______________________________________________

liked by: carlossainz55, y/n.user, and 915,176 others

charles_leclerc: panama is beautiful, but i can thing of something more beautiful…

view comments…

carlossainz55: hope you’re having fun this break! miss you!

|> charles_leclerc: miss you too, bro!!

user46: y/n liked this……

|> charles.fans: i knew this was gonna happen, ew

|> ferrari.fp: he is way out of her league bro….

f1updates: these comments are kinda dramatic but i live for drama

pierregasly: have fun😏

|> charles_leclerc: stop texting me.

|> pierregasly: wow. miss you too🖕

charles.editpage: he’s so hot

user10: i refuse to believe that he’s there with y/n, she’s j not pretty like his other ex’s were

_______________________________________________

liked by: charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 469,360 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

y/n.user: wtf is a soft launch?

view comments…

user56: that was bold….

|> user03: nah cuz who tf does she think she is?

charles.fans: byeee😭 this is NOT real

charles_leclerc: we don’t know what a soft launch is😋

|> y/n.user: nopeeee

char.myhub: NOOOOO. HER BUT NOT ME???

ferrari.fanpage: she’s so ugly what is going onnnn

|> y/n.fp: she’s not tho….

|> ferrari.fanpage: she is. she’s bigger than him

|> y/n.fp: ur actually mad bc she’s not a size 0? grow tf up fr. she’s literally a MODEL, and what are you bebe?

|> ferrari.fanpage: shes a PLUS SIZED model.

|> y/n.fp: what’s ur point? you are NOT a model😭you’re fr j mad cuz she bagged charles and you didn’t. grow up

carmenmmundt: you guys are so cute

*liked by creator*

_______________________________________________

twitter:

F1 Wag Updates @f1wagupdates • 3hr

Charles Leclerc, driver for Scuderia Ferrari, has officially announced his relationship with Model, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N has always faced a certain level of hate for being a plus sized model, and with recent news relating Charles, it has only gotten worse.

We ask that you please keep rude comments to a minimum, preferably none. Keep insults to yourself, lets support Y/N and Charles. They seem like quite the happy couple.

*please note that comments on this tweet have been disabled, as we want no hate spreading through our comments*

*comments have been disabled*

_______________________________________________

liked by: charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 639,013 others

y/n.user: vacation is coming to a close :( but i can’t wait to see you shine this year on the track <3

view comments…

charles_leclerc: i can’t wait to have you dressed in head to toe ferrari gear :)

|> y/n.user: i can’t wait either, my love

user71: i genuinely can not accept this

charles.fanpage: shes so ugly, pls break uppppppp

carlossainz55: excited to have a new face in the paddock! can’t wait to meet :)

|> y/n.user: awe, i can’t wait to meet either! charles rly talked you up

|> carlossainz55: he did??

|> charles_leclerc: no…

user49: this is not real this is not real this is not real

yourbsf: stunner

|> y/n.user: i miss you

|> yourbsf: i miss you sm more

_______________________________________________

your instagram story:

seen by: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 499,012 others

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 1,103,944 others

charles_leclerc: i don’t know what i did to gain such an angel in my life. someone who makes me smile from a simple text notification to seeing you when i wake up. i can not fathom the hate my girlfriend is receiving. you do not know her or me, don’t go around on social media like you do. i haven’t been this happy ever. don’t compare her to other people, dont belittle her, and do not leave rude comments. i am sick and tired. i love you, ma cherié. it’s a miracle that you can put up with me <3

*view comments*

*comments have been limited*

y/n.user: i love you so much. the hate doesn’t bother me as long as you’re here

|> charles_leclerc: i have no idea how nothing bothers you

_______________________________________________

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[jjunberry]

txt! as chase atlantic songs

pairing! txt x reader

genre! angst, slight smut

warnings! toxic relationships

synopsis! songs by chase atlantic i think txt would be

wc! 600

soobin as slow down

“you’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you're so loud”

you were soobin’s dirty little secret. he met you after a show and once he had you, he was hooked. he was laid on the bed and his eyes trailed your form. “come here babe.” he said his voice deep. you crawled up the bed and sat on his lap. his hands gripped your hips, giving them a squeeze. “gonna let me fuck you?” you nodded. “you gotta keep quiet baby.” he said before flipping you onto your stomach. soobin was quick to push your panties the side. using your wetness he coated his dick and slipped in. you moaned out at the feeling. soobin grunted and pushed your face down into the pillow. “be quiet or i’ll cum and send you home needy.”

yeonjun as right here

“i’m right here, here. oh, baby take a look around, i’m the only one that hasn't walked out.”

yeonjun hated your friends. he only ever wanted your attention on him. he slowly drove them out. one by one they fell off cutting contact with you. “i just don’t understand why they go out without me.” you ranted doing your skin care. “come to bed baby, forget them.” he said. you ignored his words continuing your rant. “baby.” yeonjun snapped his voice stern. “i do not care about your fucking friends. now come to bed.” you nodded and abandoned your skin care. yeonjun pulled you against his chest. “i’m the only one here for you, forget them.” he kissed your head.

beomgyu as you too

“if you love it, then you cut the thing loose.”

it was a repeating toxic cycle. fighting, breaking up, getting back together. fucking roughly to bury the reason you faught again. you were tired but you just loved him. you’d forgive anything he did. “y/n we need to talk.” beomgyu said. here we go. another fight. “what now beomgyu?” he leaned against the door frame and watched you change into sleep clothes. “i’m done, i have my bags packed. i can’t keep doing this. it’s exhausting.” you sighed and looked at him. “very funny beomgyu just come to bed.” he ignored your words and walked over kissing you deeply. “goodbye baby.” he turned to leave. “if you leave don’t fucking bother coming back.” he just sighed and walked out.

taehyun as the walls

“honestly she needs a little loving. fuck it, now i’m getting off the subject, yeah, yeah.”

you were lonely. always by yourself. against the wall at parties, in the back of the room. he always spotted you though. there was something about you taehyun couldn’t shake. you needed something or someone. that someone being him. it didn’t take long for you to fall into bed with him. taehyun filled that void and satisfied that need and want within you. he had his hand wrapped around your throat as he thrusted into you roughly. he stilled cumming in you. when he cleaned himself up he left and rejoined the party. you never felt so full yet so alone.

hueningkai as heaven and back

“all in one night. she just went to heaven and back.”

you always wanted him. he just wanted something quick. kai took you out that night. all over the town. different clubs, different parties. you felt so high. kai took you by the hand and lead you do a dingy bathroom. his hand slipped into your pants. your eyes rolled back. before you knew it kai was taking you against the bathroom stall. you felt like you were in heaven. you could feel your orgasm approaching but it was cut short when kai finished and pulled out. he tucked himself away and left the stall. your heart sunk to your feet. it all came crashing down watching him leave you.

author’s note! i got a little carried away with this one…. these are some of my favorite chase atlantic songs soooooooooo it was only fitting i went a little crazy writing this.

tag list! @jjunieworld @304files

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry

[veryace-ficrecs]

can I request some more zosan recs?

Absolutely you can!!

More Zosan Fic Recs

For my other Zosan lists, look here!

Zosan Fic Recs, Zosan Modern Au Fic Recs, Zosan Outsider POV Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

the blood of the covenant by glassedplanets - Rated E

In the North Blue, there is a roaming kingdom of no land, just a fleet of ships ruled by a king. The kingdom is nothing more than a mercenary force cloned and bred to be expendable and the king is a madman of a scientist. He had a daughter and he turned her into a monster. He had four more sons and three of them ended up becoming machines worse than the monster. And the last didn’t become anything at all until a pirate in a straw hat nearly ruined a restaurant.

A Study in Movement by camembri - Rated T

"Nami’s gaze pins him to the wall. Her brown eyes are narrowed, calculating. “What? You chicken or something? When Mihawk cuts you down – for real this time – are you gonna accept that it’s because you were too shy to ask for help? I refuse to believe that your dream is that superficial.” She’s baiting him, not even bothering to hide it. Still, Zoro’s hackles are raised. “I’m not shy.” “Then prove it. Go watch Sanji cook breakfast or something.”" Or: In the aftermath of Alabasta, Zoro finds himself to be the only person reasonably suspicious of the Strawhats' newest crew member. Should it all go to hell - as it is wont to do, with this particular crew - Zoro needs to train harder, get stronger. The problem lies in the fact that, despite his best efforts, he cannot replicate his ability to cut steel. Willing to go to extreme lengths to reach his goals, Zoro undertakes a new sort of training - the art of observation. Much to his despair, however, the cook seems to be the best candidate available. Zoro's never been one to back down from a challenge, but he wasn't expecting it to turn out like this.

To Brighter Futures by Cherry_Sundae - Rated T

“Well, it’s not Nami, obviously,” Sanji reasons out loud. “You two are like siblings. And as lovely as Robin-chan is, she cannot possibly be your type.” Zoro had phrased it in a way hinting at unrequited love, which means Hiyori’s out too – that woman was practically throwing herself at him every time they were in the same room. “Oh, what was that pink-haired darling’s name? Perona, no? She–” “Cook,” Zoro deadpans, eye narrowed. “If you want to guess sometime this century, you need to stop listing women.” ——— In which Sanji gets captured by pirate hunters, Zoro is in the right place at the right time, and one thing leads to another. You know how it is.

Craving For Your Fragrance To Cover Me by abydos - Rated G

Zoro notices Sanjis new perfume and fights with a realisation.

Desperados by bosephboestar - Rated T

Cowboy au. Need I say more?

Wreck my plans by goldenkiwee - Rated G

He noticed how Luffy immediately tensed up as well, as they watched a blonde, long-haired Marine cruelly step on fallen rice balls. Anger flaring, Sanji was ready to march over to the table. If there was one thing Sanji hated, it was wasting food. However, he watched instead with bated breath as the green-haired bounty hunter scooped the smashed rice ball up with his fingers and ate it. An alternate look at how different things would have been, if Sanji had met Luffy first.

The Printer Guy by LuckyNo3 - Rated G

Zoro knows how to do one thing and only one thing in the office, working the printer.

[steddieas-shegoes]

how are you even alive?

for @steddielovemonth prompt ‘love is watching them do stupid things’

rated t | 1,351 words | cw: minor injury, suggestive language | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, the hurt is Steve being stubborn, the comfort is Eddie loving him even though he should accept help

♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

Twice a year, Steve deep cleaned the house.

Eddie had never witnessed anything like it before.

It’s not that he and Wayne were slobs, but they just did what was necessary, never spending an entire week going over a checklist a mile long to cover every inch of their house.

Steve did.

He said that when he was young, his parents hired people to do it and he was always fascinated with the way the house smelled so fresh for weeks after. He loved watching something go from dusty to shiny, loved seeing the way the windows glistened without any fingerprints from him.

And as he got older, his parents stopped hiring people and just expected it to get done, so he did. And he loved it.

Eddie couldn’t understand it, but he did love the way Steve’s eyes lit up when they got to his cleaning weeks in March and September. He’d plan it all out on a notepad by room, made a list of cleaning supplies he needed, and put stars next to things Eddie would have to help him with.

There were few stars, thankfully.

Eddie didn’t really mind helping. It was his home, too, and any time spent with Steve was time well spent. But the bleach sometimes bothered his sinuses and he’d end up coughing and sneezing for two days after.

He checked the lists now and noticed his name was only on three things:

Flip mattresses

Gutter cleaning (hold ladder and refill pressure washer)

Bookshelves (remove all books, dust, put books back)

He fist pumped once at the realization that he got off easy this time, much easier than he’d been expecting.

Actually, he almost always was enlisted to help with holding the ladder when Steve dusted the-

A bang interrupted his thoughts and he ran without even thinking what it could be.

He walked into the kitchen to see Steve on their ladder, some kind of homemade cleaning solution in a spray bottle in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

“What was that noise?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Steve reach as far as he could without falling off the ladder. He’d probably land on his feet from that height and be fine, but it wouldn’t exactly feel great.

“Dropped the other bottle I had hanging on my belt. It’s fine, just furniture polish. I can get it when I’m done dusting,” Steve was busy, barely even glanced back at Eddie as he answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a supervisor?” Eddie found the furniture polish and set it on the counter, watching as Steve furiously rubbed at the top of the cabinets.

“I don’t. But gutter cleaning is tomorrow and I’ll need one then.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t Steve me. I’m fine! I’m already halfway done.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped away, not wanting to argue with Steve when he was at his happiest.

“Can you put the radio on please, baby? I forgot to before I climbed up here.”

Eddie went over to the radio on the kitchen table and turned it on, surprised to find it tuned to the rock station instead of the hits station.

“Well color me shocked! Were you listening to,” he gasped and held his chest. “Rock?”

“Yes, I was. But if you’re gonna make a big deal about it then change it to the hits,” Steves eye roll was almost audible.

“No, no. Let’s listen to Def Leppard, sweetheart. It’s been my dream for one whole minute to check out your ass while listening to Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Steve snorted, but continued his work.

Eddie continued watching.

And then Steve wobbled a little. He caught himself, but Eddie stood up straighter.

He wobbles more and Eddie started to move towards the ladder to hold it steady.

But it was too late.

Steve was already falling.

He landed on his ass with a yelp and a groan, the washcloth and bottle flying across the floor.

“Shit, Stevie, you okay?” Eddie crouched down next to him, hands cupping his cheeks as he looked him over.

“Yeah. Just twisted my ankle a little when I tried to catch myself,” Steve gestured down at his ankle. “Might need to ice it before I clean more.”

“Maybe you should rest so it doesn’t swell.” Eddie rolled the sweatpants he was wearing up and saw the way it was already swelling. “Okay, you have no choice but to rest since it’s swelling.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that after we ice it,” Eddie said as he gently moved his ankle left and right to see if it was broken.

Steve snorted. “Of course this would happen the first day of my spring cleaning.”

“Maybe if you’d let me supervise earlier…”

“I never lose my balance on the ladder! I thought I’d be fine.”

“Steve, you remember how last year when you were cleaning the pool you insisted the water wouldn’t overfill because of the filters?” Eddie smirked. “And then 6 hours later we were trying to rescue your pool chairs from floating away?”

“That isn’t the same!”

“And then when we first moved in and you insisted you could paint the ceiling yourself and you insisted on handpainting instead of a roller because it wouldn't be even to you and then you dripped paint everywhere and we had to get new carpet? Remember how you ended up breaking your finger because you insisted on rolling the carpet yourself?"

"Okay, that was just bad luck."

"And when you put out the Christmas decorations last year while I was helping Wayne with his truck and I came home to you stuck on the roof?"

"Listen, I am almost 100% sure one of the neighbor kids knocked the ladder over. There was no other way!"

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead. "I'm not sure how you're even alive. You're asking for an accident to happen."

"Weren't you supposed to be getting me ice?" Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned in and nipped at his bottom lip. "You want help getting to the couch first?"

"Nope. It's cleaning week. 20 minutes with an ice pack and then I'm back to dusting."

Eddie shook his head. "You're ridiculous. We'll ice it for 20 and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour so we know if we need to wrap it and keep weight off of it."

"I'm fine, Eds."

"Humor me, sweetheart."

It's a damn good thing Steve did because an hour and a half later, they were on their way to the emergency room for x-rays.

As the doctor told them both that Steve seemed to have fractured a small bone in his ankle, Eddie did his best not to look too smug.

"It won't require a cast or boot, but I do recommend ice every couple of hours and staying off of it as much as possible for the next week or so. If anything starts to hurt worse, come back for a boot."

"Thanks, doc." Eddie waited until the doctor left the room to turn to Steve. "How about next time you want to dust above the fridge and the top of the cabinets, you let me be there to catch you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine."

Eddie kissed his lips softly, barely brushed them just in case someone decided to walk in again. "You want me to stop on the way home to get some more pain meds?"

"Please."

"You hurtin'?"

"A little."

"You want me to take your mind off it?" Eddie wiggled his brows suggestively. "I can keep your ankle elevated, even."

"We'll see when we get home. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Someone has to do the cleaning, baby. Since I can't, looks like you've got a checklist to get to."

"Or we could just put off the cleaning until your ankle heals."

Steve shook his head. "No, I think you can handle it. I'll supervise."

"You're lucky you're so pretty," Eddie groaned.

"Don't forget I'm also very good at sucking your-"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let's go before you get us discriminated against."

[snowyquokka]

DRAINED

bf felix x gn reader

cw: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of anxiety, stress, crying, fluff (maybe?), swearing, overworked felix, shitty grammar

wc: 0.6k

a.n - my first attempt at hurt/comfort. did i do well? <3

dont hate me but i think i prefer writing angst rather than anything else

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Felix sighs and all but throws himself on top of you as you sit on the couch. “Hi, baby.” you giggle as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine?” you say as you run your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“Exhausted, overwhelmed, sad,” he lists against your neck. You always feel bad when he comes home from the studio or after he’s toured. Your boyfriend is constantly tiring himself, working as hard as he possibly can. You wish he would take care of himself once in a while. Felix says that’s what you’re for anyways.

You press a kiss to his temple and hum.

“Why are you sad, love?” He sighs and snuggles closer to you.

“I kept fucking up my part. Redid it five times.” you can feel him pout. Another example of him pushing himself to his limits is when he frustrates himself to the point where nothing satisfies him. He could go hours with many fantastic takes but will insist on retrying it until it’s absolutely perfect.

“I’m sure you did amazing,” Felix squeezes you tighter and inhales deeply.

“‘m sorry,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence. You pull back enough to be able to see his face. He has no makeup on, his freckles on full display. Sometimes when you’re bored you’ll pretend like they’re constellations and connect them in your head.

“Sorry for what, Lix?”

“For bothering you with this kinda stuff. It's not important and I don't want to worry you.” Your heart plummets down to the floor.

“Why wouldn’t it be important to me, love? If you’re upset, I’m upset. Your problems are mine.” you kiss his forehead softly. Felix shifts in your arms so he’s at eye level.

You hold his hands while you watch a single tear stream down his cheek. He immediately wipes it away and displays a small, but not reassuring, smile.

“Thank you,” he sniffles and leans his forehead against yours.

“Of course, Sunshine. I’m always going to be here.”

TWO DAYS LATER

You’re sitting in bed watching a random movie when your phone dings.

my only sunshine <3: im gonna be a little late tonight

my only sunshine <3: im sorry. i love you ❤️

you: its okay baby. let me know when ur on ur way !! i love you too

You sigh and lock your phone. It’s not like you’re mad at him or anything of that sort. It’s just difficult watching him drain himself again and again. No matter what you say, he always goes back to overworking himself.

Tears that you hadn’t noticed were brimming fall down your cheeks. You turn everything off and close your eyes, inhaling Felix’s scent from the pillows.

You wake to the sound of the front door closing and glance at the alarm clock,

5:08am

Fuck. Is he just getting home?

You climb out of bed and wander into the living room where you find your boyfriend sitting with his face in his hands, he immediately notices you. He had turned the small lamp in the corner on, allowing you to take in his disheveled state.

His long blonde hair tousled from his fingers being ran through it. His eyes bloodshot from what seemed like hours of crying and lack of sleep. His hands shake and his leg bounces up and down in an anxious manner.

“Baby?” you whisper with worry laced in your voice prompting Felix’s body to almost automatically rack with sobs. You quickly pull him into you and wrap your arms around his figure, the only sound present in the room being both of your cries blended together.

tags: @godslino

divider: @chaeneuu

[fandomobbsessedb]

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

================================

• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

[tuliptired]

Ello! Hope Im not a bother, but i was hoping to make a one-shot request? I looked around and it looks like you are still taking requests as of the moment, very sorry if I missed something.

Anyways, if its not too much trouble, could you write Egon Spengler x Baker Y/N? I think that would be a fun dynamic!

If thats not to your liking, what about Egon x Shy Y/N?

Love your works, I check the ghostbusters tag daily to see if youve written anything new. Thank you so much, love ya have a great day and night!!!

How Sweet It Is (To be Loved by You)

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Baker!GN!Reader

It's never too much trouble...no idea if I've used this gif before

did yall hear about the SNL biopic btw oh my gahh...

Better formatting on Ao3! (italics)

Your relationship started with a cupcake. As the story goes, told lovingly by your now mutual friends, there was a bust at a retirement home, and one of the caregivers insisted on sending the boys home with a treat in addition to the hefty bill. Demanded, actually, practically shoving a metal tin full of pastry into Egon’s hands as he attempted to discreetly sneak away.

“Jackpot,” Peter leaned over, happily surprised as nimble fingers opened the lid. The smell of sugary sweets wafted through the car, prompting Winston to extend his hand to the backseat, palm soon full of muffin. Egon was patient, letting everyone take something for themselves, before finally deciding on a blue-iced chocolate cupcake, sweet tooth waiting to be satisfied.

“Where’d this come from?” Ray, Peter, and Winston stood in the kitchen, confused at the spread of different colored boxes and containers. Upon further inspection, they were full of even more cupcakes, each the same blue iced chocolate flavor. Egon sat with his hands folded on the countertop, unfazed at their reactions to his display like any true man of science would be.

He made a tick mark on a long list of names, clipboard somewhere in the organized, delicious chaos. “If you must know, I’m testing every bakery in the area to find the one I ate that evening. I’ve yet to find it.”

Ray shrugged, taking note of just how many locations he had procured food from. “Not the weirdest thing you’ve done for a result,” he admitted.

“Good food’ll do that to you,” Winston laughed, Peter reaching over to gauge how mad Egon would get if he tried to take a sample from one of his possible matches.

Egon didn’t look up, flipping to the next page. “Go ahead, those are the rejects. They'd end up in the trash, anyway.”

Peter peeled away the paper, going through the motions of ripping the bottom of the cake and placing it over the top of the frosting. “Rejects.” he parroted plainly. “What’re you gonna do when you find the right store? Stand in the window?”

He glared up at him above his glasses. “No, I’ll buy a half dozen and go on with my day,” he unfolded a wax lined box, “so if you could leave me to my research?” Research being, going down a line of cupcakes. They each exchanged glances, before filing out. Egon could be just as tenacious as everyone else, when he felt like it.

Except, that tenacity wavered in the face of unfamiliarity. The only reason Egon was willing to go in your bakery to begin with is because the others had forced him. “Don’t be a baby,” as Venkman had put it. He finally found the match, in fact he had found it a few days ago. But he took a glance at the bustling establishment on the day in which he set out on his own, and got cold feet. Especially when he accidentally locked eyes with the smiling artisan while he just stood in the window.

His friends had managed to shove him towards the counter without a second thought. The same person he’d seen through the tall window was behind the counter now, greeting them all kindly. The bandana you had used to keep your hair in check must’ve been failing to do its job, evident by the flour near your temple, caught in a few strands. Egon’s fingers twitched.

Peter flicked him on the lower back when he failed to respond like a typical customer, making Egon come-to and clear his throat. “May I get a half dozen chocolate?” he asked robotically.

“You may,” you grinned at his grammar, “but, chocolate what?”

Egon’s ability to speak stopped short at his misstep, unable to let out anything but unintelligible stammers, and Egon never stammers. “Cupcakes, please,” Ray spoke up for him, catching wind.  

You nodded, moving to the display rack to place his order in a smaller, blue box. Peter wasn’t content with how smoothly this interaction was going as he watched on with a bored expression. “Funny story, actually,” he caught your attention through the framework.

You laughed at how it made him look like he was in a horizontal jail cell. “Yeah?”

Peter raised Egon’s stiff arm for him at the elbow. “We walk in one night and catch Egon with at least 20 different cupcakes, trying to find yours ‘cause he missed it so much.” he regaled.

He may have caught you blushing. Were you blushing? He shouldn’t stare at business owners when they were just trying to work. “Well,” you started folding the corners of the parcel, “assuming you liked them- and you guys are pretty important to the city…” You held them out to him with two hands. “Just take them. No charge.”

Egon felt like there was smoke rising from the top of his head, or the espresso machine, as he shuffled out, and you leaned over the counter to call after him: “Come back anytime, for whatever! On the house!” 

The rest happened slowly, but surely, and you enjoyed it thoroughly. On an earlier morning, you and your pubescent employee were handling the typical rush you got around breakfast. Between prepping, a small burn from the oven, packing orders, ringing people up, and a quick trip to the corner-grocery for more milk, you finally had a spare minute to breathe, both hands pressing into the counter.

A blur of beige and a trail of smog put an end to your mini-relaxation, and you hurried over to the door. “Stantz! Spengler!” you beckoned before they could turn the corner.

Like children, they found their way to your storefront, though Egon looked rather apprehensive with a used trap dangling from his gloved fist. “Good morning, guys,” you urged them inside, “did you eat yet?”

“We really should get going.” Egon said after Ray greeted you. Most of the sickly smell from the trap was left outside, and it was too covered up by the scent of sugar and warmth that everyone but you swore clung to the bakery for you to worry about it driving away customers.

You ignored his protests, crossing behind the counter. “Eat in the morning or you’ll crash in the afternoon,” you started pouring two cups of hot coffee.

“There’s no need-” you interrupted with a hand. “We’re fine,” he continued anyway.

Ray’s stomach betrayed his friend’s wishes. “Something small wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Listen to your friend, Egon.” you warned, adding a bit of whipped cream to both cups to literally sweeten the deal. “You need to eat.”

He frowned, but you didn’t care much. “We have a Class lll in our hands, now is hardly the time for-” you cut him off again, stuffing his mouth with a blueberry danish. As he annoyedly chewed, you procured a paper bag from the back, wrapping his hand around the handle.

“Too bad I already packed for everyone,” you patted his knuckles when he acquiesced, catching sight of what was inside with a small smile. “You’re crabby when you’re hungry.”

Egon opened his mouth to respond, but the contraption in his left hand started beeping. Are they supposed to beep? You’d never seen them do so before. It seemed as if the two experts themselves hadn’t either. 

You stood on your toes to give him a parting kiss, Ray grabbing both paper cups in the meantime before you could start shooing them out. “Go, go- don’t let that thing loose in here. And swing by later, okay?”

He followed your lips when you pulled away, but the ominous beeping drove him to the door and down the street. You sighed to yourself, already missing him. None of the regulars in your store seemed to pay any mind to the local celebrities- or the weapons they had strapped to themselves, as Egon floated in and out during different parts of his day at least once a week.

Egon knocked on the glass door, soft light and music slipping through as he got your attention. When you let him in, the distinct whiff of cookies enveloped him like the warm temperature of your little shop. It was his favorite part of visiting you, apart from actually getting to see you. “How was today?” he spoke over the soft jazz that you apologetically turned down.

“Better,” you were about to run a Crisco covered hand through the front of your hair before you stopped yourself, “better.” Egon only then noticed how many cookies you had managed to make for having only closed an hour ago. “I have more in the oven,” you said from the back wall with the smaller front oven while you hurriedly took out a hot tray with a mitt and put a cool one in.

It wasn’t just cookies, but brownies, sweetbreads, and cinnamon rolls. “Are you…restocking?”

You laughed, a quarter manically and another quarter incredulously, and started to peel cooked pastry off of baking sheets. “If anything, we have too much stock.” you paused your fervor, frowning at your display case’s abundance. “I’ll send you home with some- give them to your clients or eat them or something.” 

You were barely done shutting the sliding glass when you popped up, clapping your hands once and frankly startling him. “Pies! I know what I need to make now! I’ll make some pies and maybe a cake and we can head home.” Before you could disappear into the kitchen, he stepped in your way, two soothing hands on your shoulders.

“You’re stress baking.” 

Egon couldn’t hide his amusement at your familiar despondent expression, as if you were coming down from a high. “Was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” he stroked up and down your arm, steering you to the stool you kept tucked away behind the register and pulling up a chair for himself on the other side. “What’s wrong?”

He enjoyed the chairs you had because of their structural variety, and the fact they didn’t make him feel like a giant. 

You slumped your head into your since-dried hands, groaning out of frustration. “It’s just the season, I guess. A ton of people come by, bringing their dumb boyfriends-” you paused, realizing what you said, “no offense.”

“None taken.”

“-And they come looking at our stuff to see if we’re good enough for, like, baby showers and weddings and all that.”

A car passed by on the street, definitely above the city’s speed limit for a business area. “I assume that’s a good thing?”

“It’s great,” you sat up, “we want people to pick us. But it means everything has to look great, and we have to get ready for half a million custom orders.”

That would be a partial reason for the sudden uptick in inventory, combined with the pressure to make a good first impression. But you were working so aimlessly hard that you looked crazed, all by yourself. “Your employees aren’t willing to help?” Egon questioned.

You stood, addressing the heaps of different cookies, the only creation of yours without a home. “They are. But they’re kids- I can’t work them that hard. It’s probably illegal, too. They won’t be around for the next couple of days anyway.”

He could sympathize with your plight- backed into a seasonal corner that business owners just had to get used to. “I’m sorry,” Egon offered, “I’m not as skilled in your trade, but is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

You smiled your first genuine smile since he arrived. “There is, actually,” your tone was excited as you moved to the freezer, “just let me finish these and I’ll fill you in.”

Egon would’ve stopped you from continuing to try to work, but he relaxed when you brought out pre-prepared bags of icing and miscellaneous confectionaries, knowing that decoration was the more relaxing aspect of the art. 

He both sat in comfortable quiet as you put all your focus into icing, piping, and arranging.  It was pleasant, knowing that you had something so ardent that you cared so deeply about, even if it was dismissed as a mere hobby while you were close to collapsing to exhaustion in the bakery you financed on your own. It was a mix of career and craft- one of the many reasons he had grown to give you his utmost respect.

You were eventually done, making the task of embellishing countless treats look effortless. You handed him a cookie, which he gladly took. “I need you to be honest,” you counted on his affinity for sweets. He took a bite, surveying the dessert after the initial pleasure your baking always brought him.

“Raspberry compote,” Egon took a second, “and coffee icing.”

“Good job!” you scribbled something down on a spare slip of paper after springing the register drawer open. “Rating?”

“10/10”

“Honest.”

“That is my honesty. But if you wanted the unweighted scale, 7/10. The two flavors balance each other very well.”

You passed him another, which he promptly ate without being asked to. “On the crumbly side. Is that intentional?”

A nod. “A little less butter than usual. Old ladies tend to like those.”

He put a hand on his chin contemplatively. “6/10- marmalade. A softer version would get a higher placement, it would be a shame to lose interest from those who don’t fit the demographic.”

You copied down what he said, seemingly happy with any sort of feedback. “And here I thought I’d have to help you cross the street.”

The night went on like that for a while, and Egon grinned to himself at the parallels he had only just noticed- another mix of career and craft, now inquiry and indulgence. You looked like a proper scientist- or, a food scientist, scrawling down notes and numbers that he’s sure only you would be able to decode. He felt the corners of his face dimple in a familiar smile while he watched you- something he’d found himself doing much, much more.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his joy.

“Nothing,” Egon excused himself, “you just look incredibly nice.”

 You squeezed the hand that he rested on the counter, silently appreciative. “Thanks- for that, and for helping me out. Let me get you home before you barf.”

He’d learned to live with the indecencies, helping you tidy up the best he could without breaching the system of organization you had. When you returned from the back with your personal things, he let you loop your arm around his for the semi-short journey home.

Egon only let you go so you could lock the door, and he stared at your back for the entire time that you did. “If I were having a baby shower, I’d come here.”

There were practically stars in your eyes. “Really?” 

“Really.” You planted a gratuitous kiss to the side of his face, before setting off towards his apartment.

Over the course of a few days, your boyfriend showed up earlier in order to take you into work, and keep you company as you tried to quell the impending anxiety. When regulars faded out and new faces came in- possible clients, you assured him with a non convincing tone that he had a job, too. If your ego was bigger, you’d be bragging about the compliments and inquiries your store got, not to mention the referrals to friends regarding special upcoming events. But, entrepreneurship had taught you to be humble, so you were resigned to spilling it all over a phone call to the firehouse.

One morning, you forced Egon out before anyone could arrive, asserting that he had a day off and he should find a way to relax. He asserted that this was how he relaxed, but you had a key to the front door and he didn’t, so that solved that. 

Not long after he was gone, you were hastily punching his number in, bouncing on your heels and out of breath.

“Hello?"

“Rich girl- eloping- needs a wedding cake- lots of money,” you forced out like you were out of air, already seeing dollar signs in tandem with the minutes you were losing. “But I have a crazy favor to ask.”

Very soon, “OPEN” was flipped to “CLOSED (sorry)” and you put on your serious business apron. Egon stood behind you, unsure of what to do as you jumped from here to there, double checking that you had absolutely everything you needed.

You only stopped when you realized that he wasn’t in the proper attire. “C’mon, Spengler,” you chastised him while cinching the strings of a smock around his waist.

“Game plan,” you led him to the back where all the industrial sized equipment was, “three tiers, green and pink, white cake. She gave me creative freedom, so I’m kinda flying blind.”

Egon’s eyes were on you as you laid out a few large bowls. “Have you ever…made a wedding cake on such short notice? I assumed they take days.”

“They do! And they’re the one thing I swore to never sell!” He looked disappointed in you, but you weren’t fazed, grabbing both of his hands. “$1,500,” Egon’s eyes widen as you continued, “think of what that could buy.”

He pushed up the bridge of his glasses like a flustered schoolboy. “That’s…a lot of copper wiring.”

“So many new mixers! And without the down payment! That’s why we need to start while we already have the time.”

Realistically, it was more of you starting everything while Egon was subjected to measuring or throwing away eggshells. But, you eventually gave him bigger responsibilities, as there was no way you’d be done in time for the impromptu-wedding if you worked one-by-one. 

You turned from what you were doing after instructing him to mix the batter for the top layer, being met with his bare forearms, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What?” Egon noticed your commotion halting. “Am I overmixing?” 

You didn’t answer, still staring at his toned arms. He should help out more often- your stand mixer cutting out on you must’ve been a blessing in disguise. Your blatant ogling was cut short when he stopped his ministrations, resting the whisk against the lip of the bowl.

“Don’t get distracted.” He tried to sound condemnatory, but it was hard to feel scolded when the scholar had on one of your teenaged employee’s spare pink bibs around his front and he was almost bent over the edge of the counter space in the midst of his focus.

You could breathe a little easier when the timer went off for the tiniest layer’s completion in the biggest oven. You took the searing pan out carefully, and your worry spiked again when you saw how dark the unfrosted dessert was along the top. You went through a list of things that might’ve gone wrong-  was the oven at the right temperature? Setting? You definitely let it bake for the right time. It wasn’t until you saw a pair of little cylinders, tucked away in the havoc, that you put two and two together.

“Which one of these did you use?”

Egon looked like a mix of confused and concerned. “This one, baking soda.”

That’s how he got put out your kitchen for a considerable amount of time, until he knocked at the round window separating you both.

“Are you sorry?”

A pause. “Not anymore than I was 20 minutes ago.”

“I’m locking the door.”

He was allowed back in after a long and rehearsed apology. Soon, all tiers were baked, except for the base, and you were aching all over. The whole cake process never got any less demanding on you.

Egon must’ve seen how you stretched your arm across your chest before you tried to continue on anything. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’ll be fine- just sore.” you answered truthfully, before slightly jumping at the feeling of hands wrapping around your middle.

“Take a break,” he herded you to a folding chair you kept in there- the only chair. You were slotted in between his knees, thoroughly confused. He only got like this every blue moon.

It did feel great to be off your feet for a second, despite your cushy sneakers. “What’re you getting at?” 

His strong hands made work of your tense biceps. “Nothing lascivious. I just think you should save your energy for the important part,” you stifled a noise at his doctoral tone and the way his thumbs kneaded at the space in between your shoulder blades, “and you’ve been working very hard.”

“Baking makes you a freak,” you scoffed, but hedonistically let him continue to dote on you.

Soon it was time to keep moving, attractive masseuse or otherwise. You put Egon in charge of coloring the buttercream while you ran out to the store for the second time in only a few days, making a mental note to use some of the bride-to-be’s payment to keep a consistent supply of the little things.

When you returned, though, it wasn’t as you had expected. You picked up the metal bowl full of neon icing incredulously. “I said green, not snot!”

“I made green,” he didn’t budge, not seeing how gaudy this would look in the middle of a reception hall.

You pushed a finger in between his brows. “You’re such a guy,” you remarked, regardless of your own gender, as you hassled him out of the way. “Watch.” 

With a bit of red, the bright green dulled into a paler color, fit for a wedding. “Can I trust you with pink?” you asked as if he was a child.

Egon’s expression was unreadable. “No promises.”

Half of the green was shoveled into piping bags when he was finished, presenting the baby pink mixture to you like a project would be presented to a teacher. “That’s better,” you started, taking the bowl while he kept the spatula. You’d assumed that Egon was going to wash it or scrape off the excess or something, but your eyes squeezed shut as something cold and tacky hit your nose.

Frosting, pink frosting. His audacity. You took the green spatula, getting him back on the cheek. That led to him getting you back on the forehead, ear, chin, and eventually some strays ended up in the corner of your mouth, which he was more than happy to take care of. Baking really made him a freak, you thought. You probably shouldn’t be kissing over someone’s wedding memorabilia, but you shortly noticed that was the icing for each tier and its decoration. You lost an hour cleaning and starting from scratch on the buttercream, steering clear of each other in a respective corner each.

You had another hour to eat a late dinner while each tier chilled in the freezer, setting the white icing you painstakingly leveled to their surface area. When you returned, it was time for the assembly, the second most dreaded process. “I’m scared,” you confessed, just about to push down the first dowel.

Egon got eye level with the top, squinting. “You’re just about perfect.”

Your nerves got the better of you. “How can you tell?” 

“I calculated.”

He was to keep calculating until all three cakes were secure on each other, bringing on the actually grueling part: decoration. You could design anything easily, after years of practice on your skills and ability to freehand- but a wedding cake was just so intimidating. That was part of the reason you vowed to never try again, how easy failure was staring you down in the form of little white fondant flowers. Egon let you take the reins on this, disappearing from your narrow field of vision. You honed in your knowledge of swirls, mini roses, and the drape style that was still in fashion among traditional couples. You were bent in all sorts of ways to make sure every bit of sugar that left the tip of the plastic bag came out perfect, for a perfect pair of newlyweds. Or newlyweds with perfect pocketbooks.

Time got away from you when the final detail was placed, and you stepped away like it was a bomb. “Is it done? Are we done?” you looked for confirmation. “How does it look?”

Egon’s torso stopped you from running off somewhere. “It looks perfect.”

The giant thing was stowed away to wait until you were scheduled to drop it off the next morning, and a weight was taken off your chest. You let the faucet run over materials, mind somewhere else with the rush of running water.

“It’s so sweet when it’s all done,” you spoke up, scrubbing crusted batter off of a tin, “weddings feel so magical.” 

You thought back to the agreement you made with your boyfriend of a handful of years: nix a big ceremony, celebrate with friends when the time felt right. The time always felt right to you; you’d drag him to the courthouse at the drop of a hat. Perhaps there was an even right-er time out there, written somewhere in your future.

Egon wiped down all the surfaces. “I agree.” he voiced from across the counter, taking a pause. “You’re not…angry with me? For taking as long as I am?”

You laughed at that, drying your hands. You crossed over to him, a hand on his chest. “Not at all. I trust you.” He had ditched the tie at some point after you had to make a new batch of icing. “If you’re offering…”

“Give me some more time to make it special.”

You brushed away some of his hair that had come loose in the heat of your scullery. “How much more time?” your voice was soft.

Egon thought about it for a moment. “What’s 5 more years?” He laughed heartily at the groan you let out, resting his head on yours.

“Really?” your voice broke over the phone. “I’m sorry…I’ve never- I don’t know,” you forced yourself to take a shallow breath, “I’ll work on getting your deposit back.”

You didn’t know what to think or feel when you ended the call, but thoughts of wasted hours, materials, lost profit, all flooded your mind as you attempted to calm yourself. You rested your head underneath where the phone was mounted on the wall, rubbing at your temples to sedate an oncoming headache.

“What happened?” Egon asked at your back, with you again in the early morning as he scored another day off. You didn’t turn to face him, trying your best to blink back embarrassing tears.

“She canceled. We made the cake for nothing- there’s no wedding, I-” 

Egon was on a knee, in the middle of your homely bakery. Your frustration evolved into pure confusion. “What’re you-”

There was a blue, velvet box in his hands with a glinting band inside of it. Before he could get a word out, you were on the floor too, tears free flowing. “You can’t do this now,” you clutched the fabric of his pants when he moved to hold you. “I look horrible.”

His free hand dried your tears, though more would keep on appearing in their wake. “I’m sorry this is so overdue.”

Your hands gently held onto his jaw to know this was real. “When was the right time?” 

“A long, long time ago. I just needed to find a way to make it special.” He looked hesitant before continuing, “I hope you don’t mind having made your own wedding cake.”

You blinked. “You’re the worst!” you joked exasperatedly, falling with him into a hug on the floors you were happy you mopped. “That was all you?”

“Why do you suppose her down payment was a multiple of 18?”

“They didn’t.” 

“Consider it a group gift, I suppose.” Egon smiled underneath you. You sat in the giddy silence of two people, soon to be wed, when he gingerly asked the question

“Will you?”

Your boyfriend- fiancé, went through so much trouble to make the moment one you could look back on happily. Who could refuse?

“I will.”

[irisintheafterglow]

Heyy, van I get a suguru geto x reader based on this playlist pls? Creative freedom, I just enjoy the playlist and your writing

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVNLTHYHuG3QRkaWiIAoNztVS2Ad51M3j&si=R_K3McCdTLK9Vc3H

tell me that you love me, love me till my lips turn blue

summary: for the first time in what feels like forever, you're paired with suguru on a mission. he gets...distracted.

wc: 1.13k

cw/tags: best friends to lovers, some language, canon-typical violence, mutual pining, suguru is the #1 lovesick idiot when you're not around, a little suggestive toward the end but nothing explicit

note: HIII you always have the best requests!! this is short and sweet but i was listening to the playlist nonstop while i was writing and oh MAN was it an experience. like ok powerful reader and powerful bf duo with doja playing in the background?? and then a good ol' makeout session at the end? delicious. hope you like this, thank you for your ask!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :)

“They’re practically lining up, hmm?”

“Guess they’re excited,” you smile contemptuously at the Curse syndicate in front of you, all seven of the most wanted Jujutsu defectors this side of the prime meridian. Your partner on the mission huffs out an incredulous breath and you see him scowl out of the corner of your eye. “Do you need a–”

“Yeah,” he mutters and you wordlessly hand him the black hair tie from your wrist. You always kept extras when you were working together because he was sure to lose the one he brought; it was basically tradition, at this point. “You wanna take this round while I fix my hair?” 

“Sure, be right back,” you say carefreely as you shoot him a wink over your shoulder. He rolls his eyes lightheartedly at your antics and you decide to show off a little bit. Let’s gamble…25%. You stretch your limbs from side to side before raising a hand, sharply pulling it into a fist when you latch onto the energy signatures of the group in front of you. With such a low gamble, the effect of the additional energy is instantaneous; a quarter of the energy for every enemy in front of you basically over-replenished your own reserve. With the supplemental energy and your opponents temporarily stunned from the energy-theft, you send a single arc across the entire group and render them on the verge of unconsciousness. You mentally kick your technique up to 80% and absorb the remaining Cursed energy, leaving the syndicate groaning and incapacitated. After texting the higher-ups to dispatch a cleaning crew, you check on Suguru’s progress with taming his unruly hair. “You good?”

“Mmm, yeah. Just gimme a little longer,” he says absentmindedly, pulling his hair back over and over again until he’s satisfied with it. “I don’t know why I’m bothering with this, since the mission’s basically over. On paper, at least.” 

“Any idea where that last defector went?”

“I sent out a few Curses to go find him, but chances are he’s long gone by now. Satoru will probably end up catching him.”

“Oh, he’s gonna be so mad that he has to, you know, do his job,” you joke and he chuckles softly under his breath. It sounds like sunshine. “Any hard feelings that you didn’t get to save the day?”

“The opposite, actually,” he corrects and the look he gives you has your face burning. “I’m happy I got to see you in action. It’s not often that we’re paired together.”

“I know, and I’m sure you miss your awesome, amazing, gorgeous, talented best friend.” Your elbow knocks against his bicep and he shoulder bumps yours in response.   

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls, waving a dismissive hand and your jaw drops in fake displeasure. “Just admit you missed me, already.”

“Not if you won’t admit it first,” you reply nonchalantly, in stark contrast to the increasing rhythm of your heartbeat. You were walking the ledge of that dangerous cliffside again, on the verge of completely falling for your best friend without knowing shit about his own feelings. It was selfish, allowing yourself to love him, but you couldn’t find the motivation to stop. “Let’s get out of this shithole; I’m craving some of that taiyaki we saw earlier on the–” 

Your words are abruptly cut short by Suguru’s hand gently but firmly covering your mouth while the other hand tugs you into a dark nook of the cave. He quietly shushes you and glances in the direction of the footsteps approaching from around the corner. You don’t focus on anything he’s trying to tell you, though, because your mind is short-circuiting from his proximity and the fact that he hasn’t taken his hand away from your arm. In fact, whether consciously or not, his fingers rub little circles onto your skin and your vision becomes a little starry. You weren’t sure if the affection was to relieve his anxiety or yours, but you sure weren’t complaining.

“Stay here, yeah?” He briefly takes his hand away from your mouth but doesn’t go far, repositioning it beside your head due to the cramped space he’d pulled you into. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath, minty from the gum he stole from you in the car. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Gonna take care of that last asshat out there and then come back and,” he inhales, eyes flicking down to your lips for a nearly imperceptible moment, “probably do something stupid.” Before you have the chance to ask what he means, he slips away and you hear the sound of faint rumblings. Chunks of rock crumble on the floor, the thuds mixing with distant pleads for mercy. The iridescent scales of Suguru’s dragon cast rainbows on the walls in the dim light and, before you know it, he’s back in the corner with you, slightly more flushed but just as handsome as minutes prior. “Miss me?”

“Cocky asshole,” you mutter half-heartedly, absolutely sure that he could hear your blood pounding in your ears from sheer adrenaline. He looked intoxicating, staring at you so intensely that your knees were buckling against the wall. The tension was suffocating in the stuffy, dusty atmosphere and your impatience reared its ugly head. “Well?”

“Well,” he breathes, unable to tear his eyes away from your face. 

“You gonna do that stupid thing yet or not?”

“I’m thinking about it,” he admits quietly, one hand brushing the side of your cheek tenderly. “Can I–”

“Stop thinking and just do it, Suguru. I’m not getting any younger–oh,” you murmur, melting into him when he grabs your chin and kisses you with pure devotion. His hand against the wall next to your head turns into his forearm when you pull him as close to you as humanly possible, the other finding your hip and drawing more of those infuriatingly loving circles. When you finally break away long enough to catch your breath, his lips stay on your skin, pressing feather-light kisses to your cheek, neck, and anywhere he could reach. When he finds your ear, he whispers the sweetest little promises that make your head spin. 

“I would die for you, you know,” he says in a low tone that you want to bottle up and inject into your veins. “I miss you so much when you’re out on missions; it drives me out of my mind.”

“I gotcha,” you grin and he raises a sharp eyebrow in question. “I got you to admit you miss me.” 

“Time for you to keep up your end of the deal, sweetheart.” His forehead rests against yours and he lets you greedily pull him even closer, humming when you pull the tie loose and card your fingers through his hair. “Say you missed me too.”

“Mmm. I missed you too, you love sick fool.”

“Takes one to know one, pretty.”

hear that? yeah that's me barking

[toppersjeep]

Part 3 Where Do We Go Now- Lando Norris X Reader

Masterlist

(tag list @landologg @aundercover )

Your POV

“Max” I said. “Yeah love what’s up” Max said setting his phone down. “Can I ask you a question” I said. “Yeah go on” Max said. “We’ve been together four years and I just wanna know” I said.

“Wanna know what Y/N” Max said. “Is this business or something” I said. “What do you mean by that” Max said. “You know what I’m referring to how did Red Bull get my strategy for Lando” I said. “Y/N are you seriously asking me if I took your strategy and gave it away” Max said.

“Yes Max.. I’m asking you if you took it.. because every since we’ve been together this has happened more than once..” I said yelling. “Don’t yell we are in the paddock” Max said. “What Max is everyone gonna hear how you are” I said.

“You know it’s always about Lando Norris with you and I’m sick of it” Max said. “Oh deflecting I see.. when you can’t admit what you’ve done” I said. “Do you even actually love me” I said. He didn’t say anything to me. “How can you ask that question” Max said.

“Tell me one thing you love about me” I said. “Seriously right now” Max said. “Yeah tell me” I said. “You know that I love you I don’t need to prove anything” Max said. “Then what is all of this” I said showing him two letters.

“I’ve never seen those before” Max said. “So you didn’t write me letters Max” I said. “Do I look like I have the time to do that” Max said. “You’ve always cared about your job more than me” I said. “You know you are being very selfish right now” Max said.

“Does me standing up to you bother you Max I’m tired of this bullshit” I said. “If your tired of it then you know what” Max said. “What Max say it” I said tearing up. “I’m breaking up with you I can’t handle all this stupid drama” Max said.

“Seriously” I said. “Yeah it’s over Y/N I’m tired of this blaming me because you lost .. your team sucks” Max said. “What..” I said. “You heard me clearly and you need to go” Max said. “Max” I said. “Leave Y/N go bitch somewhere else” Max said. “Go fuck yourself” I said slamming the door shut.

I then walked out of the Red Bull paddock crying. I walked through a crowd of people. Running into someone nearly knocking them over.

“Ah Gasly always running around” Carlos said. “S..sorry Carlos” I said teary eyed. “Why are you crying mi amour” Carlos said. “One of those days” I said. “Oh no no let’s go find Lando” Carlos said walking with me. We walked back to the McLaren paddock.

Lando was sitting at the table having some coffee.

“Carlos what a nice surprise mate” Lando said. “Y/N ran into me crying so” Carlos said. “Why are you upset” Lando said. “I don’t know but I figured you’d get help her” Carlos said. “Yeah come on” Lando said. We then went into his driver room.

I sat on a chair. He sat across from me.

“What’s going on” Lando said. I said nothing just sighed and sniffled. “We can just be silent too or cry you know” Lando said. “Crying is super therapeutic apparently” Lando said.

“I cry all the time too” Lando said I laughed. “There she is” Lando said cupping my cheek. “Max..” I said. “He broke up with you” Lando said. I nodded. He then pulled me into a hug. “You don’t have to say anything” Lando said rubbing my back. “I feel like I just wasted four years on him” I said.

“Sometimes people fall in love with the wrong person” Lando said. “So you’ve been in my place” I said. “Yeah I mean it sucks it really does” Lando said. “And I know that it will get better day by day” Lando said. “Now I gotta find a place to live too” I said.

“Well you can live with me I guess” Lando said. “No I couldn’t do that Lan” I said looking at him. “Listen to me I insist that you do” Lando said. “Okay fine” I said he smiled. “You know I have your back always okay” Lando said.

“Yeah thank you umm.. I should get working on your new race strategies” I said getting up. “Did you ever figure out who’s sending the gifts” Lando said. “No it’s not Max” I said. “Really he said he didn’t” Lando questioned. “I mean maybe it’s someone else in the paddock” I said.

“Could be you do have many people who like you” Lando said. “Yeah remember Charles crush on me” I said. “Yeah I do we still pick on him” Lando said. “I’ll figure it out eventually.. if you need me I’ll be in my office lan” I said walking out.

I went to my office. I tried to work on these racing strategies for Lando. But part of me wanted to know who was writing these letters. And giving me gifts. I looked at the second letter again for clues.

The second letter:

Dear Y/N, have I ever told you how beautiful you look everyday even when you aren’t trying. You are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. And one of the kindest people. I hate how people assume you can’t do your job because your a woman in this field. If I’m being honest you are the best at it better than any man. In fact I think you could out race me with all your strategies that you have. You are one of the smartest people too. It amazes me the things you know. I could listen to you talk for hours on end. I love your voice and french accent. I especially love your laugh and how I can make you laugh at any given moment. I’ve said it before but I wish you could see yourself in my eyes. Only then would you realize how special you are.

___

So they know that I race. And they know they I am a race strategist. But I don’t tell many people about these strategies. Only Lando and Oscar.

But it can’t be Oscar because he has a girlfriend. Well at least last I knew he did. But it could be Charles because he’s asked me for help before.

“What are you working on chéri” Charles said walking into my office. “Trying to figure out a mystery” I said. “What’s the mystery” Charles said sitting across from me. “I’ve been getting these love letters I know it sounds silly” I said he smiled.

“Love letters that’s really romantic” Charles said. “It’s not Max and well we broke up” I said. “You did” Charles said. “Yeah well that’s not the point Cha” I said. “These the letters” he said looking at them. “Yes I just can’t figure out who it is” I said.

“Whoever this is they are clearly in love with you” Charles said. “It’s not you” I said. “I mean I like you but I’d take you out.. not do all this” Charles said. “Oh” I said. “Sorry to ruin your fantasies but it’s not me” Charles said.

“Well then it’s down to two people I guess” I said. “Can I say something” Charles said. “Yeah” I said. “This person is closer to you than you think” Charles said. “What do you mean” I said.

“I’m saying the person who wrote these is someone who’s always there” Charles said. “Someone who’s always watching” Charles added. “What are you saying” I said. “Chéri… look around you.. and figure it out” Charles said setting the letters down.

“Are you saying” I said he looked at me and smiled. “I’m saying that this guy would do anything for you.. and he always has” Charles said leaving the room. And that left me to think.

There was only one person that I know who’d literally do anything for me. And he’d do anything to keep me happy.

[hamiltonaf]

One Night Stand | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: Infidelity / Cursing / Angst but turns into fluff

A/N: Hello loves, apologies for posting this requested after weeks…I’ve been away on holiday for a while and the jet lag is killing me. Sorry I got carried away with writing this. Also, I’m not forgiving when it comes to cheating, but for the request…the reader has a forgiving heart. Anywho, enjoy .xoxo

Summer break seemed to have a bug outbreak that every footballer was either already in the USA or were on their way. Kylian insisted that we should travel to Miami but unfortunately the timing wasn’t right for me to tag along with him since I had 2 final exams. However, the best part about being done with my exams is not the freedom itself, but it was my birthday.

I usually don’t enjoy celebrating birthdays, nothing is that exciting about getting older each year, but I do look forward to spending time with my loved ones, also not gonna lie that I appreciate the love from everyone.

I studied well in advance for these exams so I wasn’t too stressed out. The week of the exams I just spent my time revising and gosh I couldn’t wait to be over and done with it all.

Besides the anxiety that I was hiding, I was quite annoyed and bothered from the fight Kylian and I had just before he left to Miami. He tried to convince me to spend my birthday in Miami, which as lovely as it sounds I wasn’t feeling it this year. I wanted to spend my birthday casually with family and friends, basically a get together without the formality of it being a party.

It would’ve been a bonus for me to go to Miami with him because besides celebrating my birthday, beforehand Kylian had a party at the Hamptons to attend which was hosted by Michael Rubin. Sounds incredible but unfortunately the Hamptons party fell on the day of my last exam and the next day is my birthday. The dates were clashing and it just wasn’t working out so we both ended up arguing.

Basically the math wasn’t mathing for me to go. In the end of it, Kylian said that he’d be here for my birthday and he’d instead take Brice as his plus one for the Hamptons party. I was okay with it but low-key I was disappointed that he was so adamant on going to this party. I get that it’s an A-list celebrity party, but I mean he goes for those kind of events all the time, what was it for him to miss this one ? I tried to put myself into his shoes and understood that he really needed a break from this season so he deserved a holiday, but the other side of me wanted to spend the holiday with him.

Even though we got through our differences, the tension was still in the air since he left a few days early. From the looks of paparazzi pictures on social media, he seemed to have the time of his life away. I hated that I couldn’t stop myself from reading the comments under his papped pictures.

“Where’s his girlfriend, (Y/N) ?”

“Isn’t (Y/N)’s bday coming up ?”

“Did Ky and (Y/N/N) break up ?”

“I would’ve expected his gf to be with him during the break, we barely see them together in public :(“

Our conversations for the past few days were normal, just the usual catch up on each others day and him asking about my exams. My mood was at ease and I was overjoyed once I left the exam room of my final exam. I first messaged Kylian about my excitement for him to be back and how much I miss him, but then it hit me with the time difference he’s still sleeping.

I spent the day at my parents house to enjoy some quality time with them. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that Kylian was trying to video call me.

“Hey handsome” I greeted. He just woke up and ugh I miss him so much. “Ma chérie…how did it go ?” He asked in his husky morning voice. Melting. “It went well. I’m just glad it’s all over” I sighed. “Ahh that’s good. I’m sure you did amazing as always. You’re one of the most smartest people I know” he smiled half asleep. “Hmm, are you trying to butter me up ahead of my birthday” I raised a brow. “Have to be nice to the birthday girl” he winked. “Ky ! You’re indirectly calling me dumb every other day” I pouted. “Babe jokes aside, I mean it when I say you’re one of the most smartest people I know and not forgetting how talented you are” he smiled. “Oh stop it” I faked wiping a tear. “Being on a break isn’t the same without you, I really miss you and I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I thought maybe if we cooled off our minds away for a day it would help - that’s probably one of the most dumbest things I thought. If anything, I miss you more than usual and can’t wait to be back home to spend your special day with you” he pouted.

“It is what it is Ky. We fought and we apologised, well you apologised about 20 times which really wasn’t necessary because I didn’t stop loving you. Just forget about it though, it’s done, it’s in the past now. I just want you back home” I pouted back. “Just a few more hours. Straight after the party I’ll take a flight back home and I’ll be back in time for your birthday” he said as he got up from the bed, revealing his bare torso. “Are you trying to tease me ?” I raised a brow. “Is it working ?” He smirked. “Kylian. Stop it” I blushed. “Alright alright. I need to get ready and do some things before going for the party. I’ll call you later okay ? Je t’aime” he blew a kiss. “Okayyy… have fun, but not too much fun. Just kidding. Love youuu baby ! Ciao” I said lastly as I returned the kiss and ended the call.

The last I spoke to Kylian was during our video call in the afternoon and I haven’t heard from him since. I even messaged Brice but he wasn’t much help - I asked him where Kylian was and he told me that they both were at the party. I tried not to think about it but I hated that deep down it actually bothered me that he didn’t even show the slightest care for my birthday.

Midnight struck and my family, and friends had surprised me with a cute cake, beautiful bouquet arrangements and lots of gifts. I was so overwhelmed that I actually started crying whilst everyone started singing for me. After some time one of my friends had asked what did Kylian get me and if he phoned. I can’t believe I had to lie for him. I tried to justify that he hasn’t called due to the time difference and him being at the Hamptons party.

To my luck, all my friends had left after about an hour. I couldn’t handle lying for Kylian and faking it all in front of my friends and family. I never felt more shit than right now, a mix of emotions ran through me, I don’t know whether to cry or call him up and give him an earful. I stayed up for s few hours, it was well after midnight in Miami. He forgot. Tears threatened to escape and I couldn’t help but cry myself to sleep.

I woke up after 3 hours, anxiously checking my phone for anything on my social media or messages. My socials were bombarded with messages from fans, friends and family. Even Kylian’s parents and Ethan wished me, yet nothing from Kylian.

As petty as I wanted to be, I was itching to talk to Kylian because I was livid. I tried video calling him the first time. Nothing. Second attempt. Nothing. Third attempt after a few rings, he finally picked up. “Kylian you better have a damn good excuse as to why you weren’t answering my messages. What the hell happened to you ?” I asked frustrated. “Hmm” he hummed half asleep. “Is this a damn joke” I said as I grew annoyed. “Who’s yelling on the phone ?” said an unfamiliar voice. My body froze and I could feel the blood almost drain from my body. It was a girls voice and he’s still in bed. “Kylian. Who. Is. That ?” I paused between each word. “It’s no one” he lied. That was it. I ended the call.

Did that just happen ? Did I have a fever dream ? I actually pinched myself to confirm that just unfolded. Kylian tries to call me back and I ended the call. Second attempt at calling me and I ended the call again. It went on a few times and I continued ending the call. Brice tried calling me after, I had no intention to hear their lame excuse. I continued to end the call. Eventually I switched off my phone.

Yet again my emotions had taken over me and I cried my heart out. What did I do to deserve this ? So many questions raced through my mind. Who was the girl ? How long has this been going on ? Did he plan this to spend time with her in Miami ? Did he purposely fight with me so we could break up ? My mind was racing. I needed to be completely on my own.

I lied to my parents that I’m going out with my friends for the day. It then hit me that this shit was happening on my birthday. Wow. I needed to let off some steam so I drove off and parked randomly to go for a run. I don’t know where I was going but I continued running until I was so exhausted and couldn’t make it anymore. I finally decided to unlock my phone and wasn’t surprised by the notifications. 25 missed calls from Kylian. 10 missed calls from Brice. 31 messages from Kylian.

Curiosity took over me and I opened the messages. Not like I was going to reply. Basically him saying that it’s not what I think, he’s so sorry, he got drunk at the party and he’s already on his flight back home. I left him on read. I got back to my car and went back to our place. The house felt cold and no longer felt like a home. I went straight to our room and started packing my things. Packing took much longer than expected. I had a bad habit of admiring the gifts he got me and cried at the memory before fighting the thought, and setting the gift aside to give it back.

I got disrupted mid-way when Kylian tried calling and messaging me again. The audacity. Many hours later It was pretty late in the evening, I packed majority of my things, the rest I could get some other time.

Just as I was carrying my belongings downstairs, he walks through the front door calling my name. Shit. “Thank god you’re here. I was worried sick about you. I’m so so sorry I missed your birthday babe” he said as he walked towards me. “Don’t come near me. We’re done” I said as I stormed off back to the room to bring the remainder of the packed things. “What are you doing (Y/N) ?” He asked worried as he followed behind me. “Leaving and getting as far away as possible from you !” I raised my voice.

“Can we just sit down and talk ?” He asked. I slammed a box on the bed as I looked at him standing across from me. “You wanna talk ? Sure. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll do the talking” I said as he then walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down. I walked over to stand in front of him with my arms folded over my chest. “First of all, it’s killing me to know this, did you plan this Miami trip to meet her ?” I said ‘her’ in disgust.

“What ? No ! How could you think that-“ I cut him off. “Kylian, you have some damn nerve to face me and argue with me when you’re the one who fucking cheated” I said. Kylian and myself were shocked by my use of words. This is probably the first time he heard me swear. “Ma chérie, I swear we didn’t sleep together. She took advantage of me and got me drunk. We just kissed” he said. I pressed my lips together firmly and looked up as I felt the tears pool at my eyes. The tears spilled and I couldn’t hear this shit anymore. I walked away from him to grab my stuff. He held me by arm, “Wait” he called. “Leave me alone” I said as I pulled my arm away and walked downstairs.

“You didn’t let me finish” he said which made me stop in my tracks. “I don’t give a damn. I’m not okay. I tried this entire day convincing myself that I’m strong though I know I’m not. I stayed up waiting for you to call or message but I got nothing. I feel like a damn idiot for covering for you when people asked me if you called or messaged or got me anything for my birthday ! I cried myself to sleep and woke up like 3 hours later stressing about you. I don’t even know why I even bothered… oh yeah that’s right, because I loved you. Then I had to be the one to call you to find out that you cheated. How’s that for a birthday present ?” I raised a brow. “I understand you’re upset but you still didn’t let me explain” he argued.

“I couldn’t care whether y’all kissed or if y’all slept together or whatever the fuck actually happened. The fact remains that you cheated and I’m not here for that. Had the tables turned around, you wouldn’t give me a chance either. You had Brice with you the entire time I’m sure” I raised a brow. “Yeah” he answered softly. “So what’s your excuse if Brice was there ?” I asked with my hands on my hips.

“Everything was going fine, I wasn’t even planning to stay till late because I wanted to fly home sooner” he said, to which I didn’t say anything for him to continue. “Just as I was about to leave, she practically grabbed my face and forced me to drink which for all I know could’ve been spiked” he continued. “I was drunk and so was Brice so when we were leaving, she came with” a pang of jealousy struck through me. “Do I know her ? Do you know her ? Who the hell is she ?” I questioned. “She’s just some influencer, I know her but not personally” he answered honestly. “And then ?” I asked. “When I got back to the hotel, she tried kissing me and I didn’t realise what was happening until like a second later. So I pushed her off and I guess I passed out after, that’s when you called not long after… I was half asleep and she was still around”

“Then ?” I raised a brow. “I kicked her out and rushed to leave to come back home” he said as he slowly walked towards me. He grabbed a hold of my hands and rubbed small circles. I pulled my hand away. “Kylian. You can’t just come back and expect me to forget all about this. I don’t even know what to believe at this point” I said softly. “(Y/N) I’m telling the truth” he argued. “You just said that you knew her… our trust is broken ! Forget about what you did for a second. You forgot about my birthday and you didn’t even have the decency to message or call me whilst I stayed up for your dumbass. You know what. I’m done talking. I literally have a migraine at this point. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, I’m living on like 3 hours of sleep… I don’t deserve to feel this shit on my birthday” I said as I burst into tears.

“Baby don’t cry. I swear on my life that I’m telling the truth. I’d never do anything intentionally to hurt you. I’d never want to break your trust. I love you too much to do that” he pouted as he pulled me in for a hug. I didn’t even try to push him away. As much as I was in pain, deep down my heart was saying that he’s telling the truth.

When I broke away from the hug, he wiped away the tears from my face. “It hurts me to see you like this. More especially that I’m the reason for all of this. I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday. I planned a special day for us and unfortunately everything didn’t go as planned. I’m really really sorry for all of this. I love you so so much. It was terrible being without you whilst I was away and now i don’t ever want to leave you. Please don’t give up on us and let me try to get your trust back. I said this earlier and I mean it when I say that I swear on my mum, and my dad, that I didn’t intentionally cheat on you. It was all on that girl” he said wholeheartedly.

I sniffled and wiped away my tears. “I need time” I sighed. A knock at the door interrupted us, that’s when I walked away from him to answer. “Hello” I greeted. “Ahh (Y/N), happy birthday ! I believe these are for you” Kylian’s driver said as he stepped aside and unveiled 10 huge flower arrangements, along with a number of boxes of designer items. “Oh my god” my jaw dropped as I stepped outside. I felt like crying again. “Please don’t tell me you sent these” I said as I turned around to face Kylian. “What..why ? I did…” he said hesitantly.

“You’re making this so hard for me right now” I said in frustration. “First of all, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to get me so much. Flowers alone would’ve been more than enough, you know that by now” I smiled. “I can’t not spoil you on your birthday” he smiled back. “I really appreciate it. Thank you” I said as I pulled him in for a hug. He gave me a tight squeeze for a second before placing a kiss on my forehead. He then pulled me by my hand inside, whilst a few people who came along with the driver helped to bring the gifts inside.

“This was part of your surprise that I had planned. I got all these gifts for you and had them kept away with my mom for the past few days. I felt awful for going away and not spending more time with you. It’s the least I could do to show my appreciation and love for you since you’ve been through it all with me. You deserve nothing but the best, always. Happy Birthday ma chérie” he smiled. “I have no idea how to thank you. I’m so overwhelmed and mixed with emotions. I never ever thought you’d do wrong in my eyes, until today, but I believe I know you very well by now… I know when you’re telling the truth. Sooo… this will all take some time to go back to normal, but I’m willing to look past this and move on from it” I huffed. He caught my by surprise when he engulfed me in a hug. “I love you” he said as he kissed my forehead.

“Can I please kiss you ?” He asked softly. “Ky, now you’re just pushing my limits” I playfully warned. “Just one” he pouted. “Ugh fine” I sighed. He cupped my cheeks as he softly placed his lips on mine. “That’s it for the day” I smiled as I started to walk away. “How about one more ?” He pouted as he trailed behind me. “No Kyky” I laughed as I started running away. “(Y/N)” he whined.

[poppy-in-the-woods]

My Ride or Die - Part 2

Plot: Noah is your husband. Five years ago, he killed a man that was attacking you. The judge ruled that, since he shot him several times after he already had been stabbed by you, it was no longer self-defense. He got twenty years, and that was two and a half years ago. After the conjugal visit for his birthday, you visit him, bringing food and other presents to help him keep warm on cold nights.

Pairing: Noah x Female Reader

Word Count: 2601

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: fluff, bit of angst, convict!Noah, masturbation, mentions of suggestive pictures.

Author’s note: betaed by the amazing @rottingfern. Sorry for the long wait, but you know, life gets in the way of writing sometimes, and I wanted to polish this one as much as I could. Let me know how I did, and hope you enjoy.

It had been exactly a week since you last saw Noah. You definitely needed a bit more recovery before thinking about having wild sex again, the ache between your legs still dully moaning, but you two were happy to see each other nonetheless.

The room was busy with spouses and kids that came to visit other inmates. Noah sat alone as he waited for you, but he quickly rose up when he saw you approaching. You greeted him with a quick hug and a peck on the lips and sat in front of him, putting the bag you were carrying on the bench beside you.

“How are you, my love?” you asked.

“Not bad. Better than most days now that you are here,” he said.

“I brought you some presents,” you said, taking the items out of the bag. “Here’s your sandwich,” you began, pushing it to him. He unwrapped it with an excited smile and began scarfing it down. “Slow down, honey, or it’s gonna hurt your stomach,” you told him.

“Sorry,” he said, chewing slower.

“I also brought you some extra underwear and socks,” you continued, putting the paper bag on the table.

“Nice!”

“The shampoo and deodorant you like…” you listed, taking them out of the bag too and placing them beside the underwear, “and a belated birthday present!” you announced, handing him the wrapped package.

“They let you bring that without opening it first?” he asked, skeptical.

“I told them it was a present, so they did me a favor” you told him, shrugging it off like it was nothing. You knew the schedule of the guard who had a soft spot for you and you fully took advantage of that, though you’d never tell that to Noah. “They ran it through the X-ray machine, with the rest of the stuff,” you assured him.

“No metal file or spoon hidden, then,” he joked.

“No, sorry,” you replied, chuckling as he finished unwrapping the book: it was a hardback copy of High Magick (A Guide to The Spiritual Practices That Saved My Life on Death Row), by Damien Echols. “Don’t take off the plastic just yet,” you whispered. He nodded. “I am sure you will find it a very interesting reading,” you added, in a normal tone.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, taking your hands and quickly kissing your knuckles.

You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, letting go of your hands before the guard could decide that it was too much physical contact and end the visit early.

“How’s it going with that newbie? Did he bother you again?” you asked, trying to make some small talk.

“Nah. It’s all good now, he learned his place,” he replied, finishing the sandwich. He let you clean his mouth with the paper napkin.

“Good.”

“I received your letter yesterday, by the way” he told you.

“They took their sweet time reading it, didn’t they?” you fumed.

“I’m sure the warden loves your prose, and the poems. I certainly do,” he said. “I especially loved the lines that said ‘My heart is a bird/ that every night takes flight/ to you and guards your sleep’, and ‘I dream of your hands around my waist, / your breath on my neck, / your heat inside mine, / and our hearts beating in sync’”.

“I wasn’t too inspired with the rhymes in that last one,” you said, grimacing.

As much as you didn’t feel any embarrassment for the words you wrote to Noah, you didn’t want them repeated to you. Creative writing was an outlet your therapist recommended, as were the dabbles in poetry, but you didn’t fancy yourself a poet. Noah was the poet and the musician, not you.

“By the way, do you need another notebook?” you asked.

You had given him a pretty notebook when he entered prison so he could annotate whatever he wanted, and you knew he had been using it as a sort of journal and to write his lyrics and compose his music. A month before the anniversary of his first year locked up, he had requested a new one. You had bought one with more pages that time. He was on notebook number three now.

“No, I still haven’t filled the last one. I will tell you when I need a new one, but thanks for asking,” he said, smiling. “How are you, baby? How are things at work?”

“I’m fine. Before I forget, I have a new manager now, a lady in her fifties - the old one was fired because Shelly reported him to HR for attempted grooming,” you explained. Shelly was your only underage coworker, a sixteen-year-old girl who was still in high-school. “Anyway, the new one is very nice, and upon learning about you, she told me she has a son in prison.”

“In here?” he asked.

“No, he’s in another facility. He committed tax evasion and had a money laundering scheme going on. He got mixed with the wrong crowd, apparently,” you informed him. “They don’t see each other that much, but she writes him letters every week. She told the whole team that my visitation days are sacred and that if anyone needs a change of schedule, to try anyone else, because I am not available,” you finished smiling.

“I already like her,” he said, containing a laugh.

“She also said you were very handsome ‘despite all that ink’”, you told him, marking the quotations in the air. “She’s kind of old-fashioned regarding tattoos.”

“Tell her I said thank you for the compliment,” he replied. “And that I don’t take offense to her not liking my tattoos.”

“Will do!”

“I have something for you,” he said, taking a square envelope from under his ass. “I recorded it with the boys. I want you to be the first to listen to it,” he said, as you took the CD out of the envelope. You smiled, looking at the title and all the signatures.

“I feel honored, honestly,” you said, immediately putting it in your purse. “I’ll listen to it tonight, though it might take me a while to write an in-depth review.”

“Don’t worry about that, we can wait. The boys send their regards, by the way,” he said.

“Tell them I said hi back. I’m so happy you made friends here! And Nick… well, I am not happy that he is in prison too, but… at least you already had a friend the day you arrived, you know?” you said.

“I was relieved to see a familiar face the first day, I’m not gonna lie,” Noah admitted.

“By the way, I spoke with the lawyer…” you began.

“No,” he snapped, cutting you off.

“But I would just spend two years, and your sentence would be reduced -” you began.

He grabbed your wrists.

“Look at me: we already talked about this, and I won’t let you spend a single day behind bars. I fired the gun, I take the blame,” he said, holding your gaze intently.

“But…” you tried to argue. While you recognized and were grateful for his sacrifice, you didn’t want him to spend so much time behind bars. You thought you were strong enough to endure two years if that meant he got to be free earlier. Why wouldn’t he let you do that for him? You loved him just as he loved you; why shouldn’t you sacrifice in return?

“No buts,” he said, putting a finger over your lips. “I heard what the guards do to the female inmates in prison and I won’t let you go through that to shave five years off my sentence,” he said, finally releasing your hands. “End of discussion.”

 “Okay. I love you so much, Noah!” you said after a pause, on the verge of tears.

 “I love you too, baby. Now, don’t cry! You know I hate to see that here,” he said, and you knew he was right: the crying was best reserved for when no one could see, because any sign of weakness on your part could reflect badly on him. You took a deep breath and smiled at him. “That’s better. Do you have an appointment with your therapist this week?”

“Yeah, this afternoon,” you nodded. You had taken notes to talk to your therapist about his response to your proposal, whatever his response would be, though you didn’t expect him to agree, honestly.

“Good. Tell her I enjoyed the books she recommended.”

“That one is also a recommendation from her,” you said, lightly tapping the Damien Echols book. “The extra material is all my idea, though,” you whispered. He arched an eyebrow, questioningly. “You’ll see.”

Not long after, you had to end the visit. With another quick hug and light peck on the lips, you said goodbye to him. On the way back home, you put the CD in the player of your car and listened to it. The lyrics were so beautiful and his voice sounded so clear, like he was beside you, that you had to pull over to the side of the road for a couple of minutes while you let the tears finally flow.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” a voice asked. You lifted your gaze to find a police officer standing by the side of your car. You rolled down the window and stopped the music. “Are you injured?”

“No, sir, I am fine. I just got emotional and… I needed a moment.”

“I see. What was that band, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh! That was Bad Omens; it’s my husband’s band. They’re on Spotify, I think.”

“They sound good, I’ll give them a listen. If you are better now, I suggest you go on your way,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

Every lawyer you ever spoke to always told you the same thing: if you’re ever stopped by a police officer, be polite and don’t let them know you have a spouse in prison, because they will look at you differently and there’s a chance they won’t be nice to you upon learning that fact.

You continued your way and arrived home in time to prepare a meal for yourself, feed the cat and go to your therapist appointment.

Meanwhile, Noah was in his cell, unwrapping the book from its plastic. He noticed an envelope taped to the back cover. He opened it to find several pictures. Eight of them were of you, recreating some pin-up posters; hot, but nothing that could be considered pornographic. The ninth, tenth and eleventh were more risqué, something that could be classified as artistic nudes, but the twelfth…

He took the picture number 12 in his hands, looking at it closely. It was a close up of your nude chest, focusing on the tattoo over your sternum. Your nipples were not in frame, but he knew your breasts far too well, so he was able to complete that image mentally.

He carefully picked up the other photographs and put them back in the envelope. He then taped this one to the metal frame of the bunk bed above him and slid a hand in his pants. His mind was already racing, conjuring the image of you naked beside him, kissing him and touching him with light fingers.

“This one’s for you, baby” he muttered, stroking his cock.

Not shortly after he was finished, Nick leaned into the cell.

“Dude, what are you doing? We’re waiting for you in the music room!” he said.

“What?”

“Did you forget we scheduled a rehearsal for today?” Nick asked, entering the cell.

“Yeah, sorry…”

“Were you reading?” Nick asked, seeing the book next to Noah. “Is it any good?” he wanted to know, picking it up.

“Give it back!”

But it was too late: Nick had already seen the envelope and was inspecting its content.

“Oh, I see! You weren’t reading, you were jerking off in her honor” he laughed. “To be fair, I also do it in her honor sometimes,” he joked.

“Not funny, bro! Not funny.” Noah replied, snatching the book from him. “It’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“Sorry. Is something wrong between you two?” Nick asked, suddenly serious.

“No. She tried to bring up the appeal, thinks she should take part of the blame,” he said. “I told her she can forget about it, and I hope this time she listens. I understand where she comes from, but I love her far too much to let her do it.”

“And she loves you far too much not to try to convince you,” Nick pointed out.

“I guess so…”

“She does. I mean, she risked flirting with the guy at the entrance to bring you this, didn’t she?” Nick said, pointing at the book.

“What do you mean?”

“Rumor says that if you don’t want something to be too closely inspected, you compliment the guard at the entrance. Works like a charm if you’re a pretty woman, or at least that’s what my cousin said,” Nick told him. “Those pictures? They would probably be considered porn and confiscated. She’s a criminal mastermind, dude.”

“Yeah, sure,” Noah said, amused, but his laughter quickly died on his lips, as the implications of what Nick just told him sank in: you had taken too many risks for him and his pleasure, more than he was comfortable with. He sighed; his beautiful, smart and reckless wife! What was he going to do with you? “You will get out before me. Would you keep an eye on her for me?”

“Sure, dude. She’s my friend too, you know?”

Noah knew you also corresponded with Nick and talked to him on the phone. Past benders aside, you two were close enough for Nick to call you a friend. Knowing his friend, Nick was likely the one to suggest the fiery red lingerie to her as a birthday surprise, and if his suspicion was correct, Noah was very grateful to him.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me yet. We’re still both in this shithole, so maybe we could go to the music room now and rehearse?”

“Sure.”

That Saturday, while you were watching a movie, your phone rang. It was a collect call from jail, which you quickly accepted.

“Hey, baby!” Noah’s voice greeted you through the line.

“Hi! How are you? Is everything okay?” you asked, straightening yourself up on the couch. He didn’t seem distraught, but he was in jail after all, you could never be sure.

“Everything is as okay as it can be. I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said. “Oh, I have begun with your present. You were right, it’s a very interesting reading.”

“Did you enjoy the extras?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah! Thank you, baby.”

“By the way, I almost finished analyzing the record,” you told him. “I have the last two songs left and the conclusions, and I will have a full review, song by song.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” he said.

“I know, but I like doing it, and I like to think that my reviews are useful for you guys, you know? To have a listener’s perspective,” you replied.

“Of course they are useful!” he assured you. “I just say it’s not an obligation,” he clarified.

“I know, and it doesn’t feel like it,” you swore.

“Okay. I need to go now, but I love you. Sweet dreams, baby,” he said.

“Sweet dreams, my love! I love you too,” you replied, and he hung up.

The next conjugal visit couldn’t come fast enough.

[harrywavycurly]

What would happen if Eddie saw his imaginary friend or person with Steve and they like hugged or something? Would eddie get jealous? Does he have feelings for her?🥺

Hiii lovey!! So I have kinda already done something about Eddie getting jealous, so I’m just gonna answer your last question about if he has feelings for her and I hope you enjoy!💖

-find all things Eddie’s Wish here✨

Tag List: @miss-celestial-being @edsforehead @mrsjellymunson @akiratoro420 @squidscottjeans @mikromoon @niallerlover8022 @pausmoon @pauphs @bl4ckt00thgr1n

A/N: I have been waiting to write this for a few weeks because this series is just special to me and this is exactly how I feel like this would go down between the two of them✨

Eddie lets out a long sigh as he puts his van into park and rests his head on the steering wheel, the long hours at work the past few days are starting to take their toll on him leaving him rather exhausted. He closes his eyes for a moment and doesn’t even notice the slight breeze that blows through his hair as the faint smell of vanilla fills his van, two signs that usually when he’s paying attention let him know you’re near. You feel yourself frown as you look over at him from the passenger’s seat, you know he’s tired but you also know there’s something else bothering him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You slowly reach over and tuck a few stands of his hair behind his ear so it’s out of his face and you grin when you see the corners of his mouth twitch letting you know he’s fighting back a smile. Eddie opens his eyes as he sits up and he doesn’t even flinch when you reach over and place a hand on his cheek making him lean into the warmth of your touch. He has always found your touch comforting and he knows that’s probably got to be part of the whole you’re his person thing but he can’t describe the feeling he gets when you put your arms around him or even just touch him with your hand, it’s almost as if he feels perfectly complete and everything is right in the world or at least in his little corner of the world.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice is soft and soothing as it hits Eddie’s ears making his shoulders relax as his hands drop from the steering wheel and into his lap.

“Just tired.” You roll your eyes at him as you drop your hand from his face. Eddie doesn’t have time to miss the loss of contact before you just grab his right hand and begin playing with the ring on his index finger.

“Look at me please.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate to turn his head so he’s staring right at you. He knows what you’re about to do, and normally he puts up more of a fight when you try to look into his mind for the memory of the event that happened during the day that’s caused him to feel any other emotion other than happiness but he’s too tired and apart of him wants you to see what happened just to get it over with. “Oh Eddie.” Your voice is low as you feel a wave of anxiousness overtake him as a memory from his day plays in your head.

“I can’t help it.” Is all he says because he knows exactly what memory you’re seeing, it’s from his lunch break earlier in the day when Steve was in the shop and asked him about you. Usually whenever someone brings you up Eddie just brushes you off as his bestfriend but Steve being the nosey annoying friend that he is wouldn’t let it go until Eddie blurted out the three little words of “I love her” shocking not only Steve but Eddie as well because he’d never said that out loud before.

“I know.” Eddie gives you a small smile as you squeeze his hand. “I am kinda perfect aren’t I?” You ask as you take your free hand and place it back on his face.

“To me yeah.” You smile as Eddie interlocks his fingers with yours. “Is it okay though? Because if this is against the-” Eddie is cut off by your lips pressing against his in a quick and sweet kiss.

“It’s okay.” You state as you pull away, you can feel relief wash over him making you smile as Eddie rests his forehead against yours.

“Really?” You giggle at how relieved he sounds as he pulls away just so he can look you in the eyes, you know what he needs and more importantly wants to hear so you just gently run your thumb over his cheek and lean in and place a little kiss to his forehead.

“I’m your person Eddie…I have and always will..love you.” Eddie feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest as you stare into his eyes as you speak. “I am however a little offended it took you so long to realize you loved me.” You shoot him a playful wink that makes him laugh as he leans in so his lips are just a few inches from yours.

“I’ll make it up to you..I promise.” You know he means every word so you just smile as he closes the distance between the two of you and captures your lips in a deep kiss. Eddie is too caught up in the feeling of your lips on his that he doesn’t feel the sudden gust of air surround the two of you and it’s not until you pull away from him and lay your head on one of his pillows that he realizes you have moved the two of you from his van to his bedroom.

“You’re tired.” Eddie lets out an annoyed groan at your statement as he watches you get up off the bed and walk towards his bedroom door.

“And you’re being rude.” He mumbles making you shoot him a glare over your shoulder as he looks around and raises an eyebrow at the fact he’s in his comfy sweatpants and worn out Metallica shirt instead of his work uniform. “Did you change my clothes?” He asks as he looks at you and sees you’re dressed in your usual nighttime outfit that consists of polka dot pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers on your feet.

“Yes? You can’t get into bed with your smelly work clothes on that’s gross.” You don’t get to see Eddie roll his eyes because you flip the light switch by his door making his room go dark with just the faint light from the street lamp peeking in through his curtains. You kick off your slippers before you climb into his bed and get under the covers, you can feel that Eddie is anxious and unsure of what to do so you just scoot closer to him and rest your head on his chest and drape an arm over his middle.

“Are you uhm gonna stay the uh night with me?” You smile at how nervous he sounds because you know this is completely new for him.

“Yes.” You feel his mood shift at your answer and soon his arms are wrapping around you as if to make sure you don’t change your mind and try to wiggle away from him in the middle of the night. “You can sleep now Eddie it’s okay.” You whisper as you feel his hold on you slowly begin to loosen letting you know he was relaxing.

“I love you.” Is the last thing you hear him say before you can tell he has fully given into his exhaustion and allowed himself to fall asleep. You smile and just lay there a few more minutes soaking in how happy and relaxed Eddie feels. You don’t remember him ever feeling this light and happy before and you know it’s because he is finally starting to realize just why you were sent to him in the first place when he made that wish all those months ago, you are his person meaning you’re his to love and to also love him in return because that’s what he needs the most.

[ateezscupid]

Hi, can i request sub san using aphrodisiacs?

omg omgomg sub sannie an aphrodisiacs, i went ham writing this. i started writing this at 11 at night so if there are mistakes i’m so sorry 😭

1:00𝗮𝗺 ✦ 𝖼.𝗌𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

plot - san is unusually horny at midnight.

genre + warnings - smut & fluff, sub!san, dom!reader, somnophilia, handjob, praising, begging, san is super whiny, he’s a cute lil baby in this oh my gosh

wc - 1.22k

tags - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

currently 12am. san has been twisting and turning in his sleep for hours, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear occasionally and poking you nonstop. and it’s been like this since…ten o’clock.

you didn’t understand why he was asking like this, nor did you want to ask since you knew you’d fall asleep during his explanation, so you ignored him and continued sleeping. though, san has been acting like this all day. he’s been super touchy and clingy with you.

not only that, but he’s been tired. you counted a good 34 times where san has said he was tired. and of course, you didn’t bother listening to his explanation, so you went to bed.

unusual behaviors like this were normal from him. but this, this was a whole new level of unusual.

now you two were laying in bed. you were pass out asleep on your side, possibly drooling from the really good dream you were having and san was, well, he was awake trying to go back to bed.

“why did i do that,” he whispers to himself. “fuck, yunho said it wasn’t gonna be that strong!”

he was clutching onto his pajama pants for dear life trying to control his urges but he couldn’t. his nerves were going crazy, everything in his body was going off as if there were thousands of alarms in his body. he was so fidgety he couldn’t stay still.

san recently tried out this aphrodisiac drink that yunho gave him. san expected it to not work, just like all of the other ones yunho had given him, but this one was working like the rent was due. he was so hard, he couldn’t concentrate on daily tasks and it became unbearable to even move his legs. he’s been like this since ten in the morning, and you were busy working all day. san didn’t know what to do.

all he knew was his cock was pulsing, almost breaking the zipper in his pants from earlier. he wanted to jerk off so badly, but because of your rules, he couldn’t. his only other option was to ask you, which he didn’t want. you’d most likely say no and would tease him all day.

tonight, you were wearing the necklace. the necklace that told him it was okay for him to touch you if you were sleeping. a mutual agreement you two made. if one was wearing the star necklace, it was okay for the other to touch if they were already in bed. it was awkward at first, but the two of you got used to it after a few weeks.

you noticed san acting strange today, but didn’t want to bring it up. overwhelming him was the last thing you wanted to do. you only found out about the aphrodisiacs when you saw yunho say something about in the groupchat.

so tonight, you were gonna let san do whatever he wanted if it meant he could relieve himself. anything for your sannie.

san scoots behind you and gently moves your leg, squeezing your thigh a bit and pulling down his pajama pants. he was leaking like a broken faucet, red and veiny and pulsing. he needed to touch you, he felt like he was going crazy.

he moves closer to your body and grabs ahold of his cock, hissing from his own hand as he slid himself between your legs. he accidentally moaned, covering his mouth afterward then beginning to push and pull his hips.

god, your thighs were so soft. he loved feeling them. his favorite thing about them was whenever he’d eat you out and it became to much for you, you’d squeeze your pretty thighs around his head and he loved it. being crushed by his goddess was the last thing on his bucket list.

san wraps his arms around your body and rests his forehead on your shoulder blade, pushing and pulling his hips faster with small whines leaving his parted, plump lips. he needed your touch so bad. he was desperate.

“please wake up…” he whispered in your ear. “p-please, it hurts.”

your eye opens when you feel him lick your neck. his tongue rolling against your skin while his cock plunged back and forth between your thighs would’ve made you pounce on him if it were morning.

“sannie, did you drink an entire bottle of aphro-juice?” you say with a croaked voice. he nods his head quickly against your shoulder.

“i-i wanna cum s-so bad, please. p-please let me cum, miss.” he whimpered into your soft skin, lips grazing your shoulder.

“i-i can’t h-help it, fuck—!” he moans incredibly loud when you clamped your thighs down on his length. he scratches at your stomach, cum spurting from his tip and onto the bed sheets. now you had to get up. though, not after you had your fun with him.

“okay, san, okay. i’ll help you.” you sir up, rubbing your eyes a bit since you were still tired. you turn to see the blanket pulled off of him and his back against the bed. his pretty orbs staring into yours, glossy and making him look absolutely adorable.

“you want me to touch you, sannie?” you ask as you run your nails over his stomach. “you want miss to make you feel better?”

“y-yes please.” san pouts. “i haven’t been able to do anything all day, please touch me.”

“i am, it’s okay. sit up and get in front of me.” you say while scooting all the way back, your back against the headboard. he crawls toward you and does what you ask of him, his back against your chest and his eyes looking up at you.

you bring your hand down and start to stroke him slowly. immediately, san grabs onto you. both hands holding onto your arms as he moans. his moans grew louder once your hand accelerated in speed, his hips bucking up into your hand erratically trying to chase himself orgasm.

“fuck, yesss!” he moaned, eyes shut tightly. “p-please let me cum, i really need to, please please please!”

you smile at him and continue your actions, stopping a few times to rub your palm on his tip and then control to twist and turn your hand on his cock. his body shifted against yours, his face now hiding in your arm as he felt himself getting closer.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby,” you whisper, your free hand patting his chest gently. “you didn’t touch yourself all day, this is your reward.”

“oh m—fucking yes, s’good, so so so good, yes!” san whined louder, body shaking and tensing in your arms.

“is my sannie gonna cum?” you ask. at first there was no answer, he was so fucked out. “answer, sannie, are you gonna cum?”

“y-yes—!” he strains.

“what’s the magic word?”

“p-please miss, can i—c-can i please—oh my fucking god, oh my, i’m—i’m gonna-” san’s body froze entirely, hands pulling at the bed sheets underneath you and almost puncturing a hole in them as he released in your hand.

“shh, good boy, sannie. good good boy.” you spoke softly in his ear as you helped him ride out his orgasm, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“you did so good for me, baby.”

“love you, i love you, so so so much.” he slurred. “love you so much.”