#brings me back to when I started this whole hobby

[bommel-tabletop]

Good afternoon everyone,

I'm taking a short break from the containers since I've kinda burned out doing all that chipping, though the 3 blue/orange ones are done and hopefully the others are going faster once I return since they're all one color

Either way this is my little in between project which I censored a little since I'm not sure tumblr would be ok with this? Base colors are all on already and first layers on scales and skin are done so far

Still plenty to do, but I think I got a vision where I wanna go with it for now so that's why I thought I'd post a WIP shot :D

[vidavalor]

Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03

In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.

So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.

Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."

People. In. Love.

In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.

Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.

Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?

[gay-dorito-dust]

Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭

I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.

Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.

He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.

It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.

Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.

Alfred excused himself from the room.

Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.

Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)

That’s literally the title of his presentation.

‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.

‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.

Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.

Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’

Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.

‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.

Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’

‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.

‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.

‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.

Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’

‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.

Dick: pouty baby.

What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!

For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.

He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.

Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.

Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.

Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.

Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.

And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.

The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.

(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)

After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’

Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.

You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’

Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’

You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.

‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’

[illubean]

Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"

(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)

HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o

Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

this is so me

Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff

Leorio Paladaknight

being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful

at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something

he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor

the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill

and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"

and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?

or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like

"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"

1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT

he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into

when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out

how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?

he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"

yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)

Illumi Zoldyck

whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power

aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate

that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually

when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why

that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face

"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"

he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement

i mean, to each their own am i right?

so you have ah hobby, big deal

Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home

so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup

you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win

Chrollo Lucilfer

he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭

he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery

you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff

he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass

but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF

he is intrigued

he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)

what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket

bro was so confused

"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"

yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that

he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself

he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to

so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you

he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process

you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more

Feitan Portor

I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe

whatever you do outside of it is your business

buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are

thus him finding out about your hobby and other job

out of everyone on this list he is the most interested

he too is a morbid little freak

he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him

what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things

sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that

Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't

after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that

he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3

[wcters]

𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: y/n joins the triplets on the cut the camera podcast to talk about having a boyfriend who’s a triplet, social media, and hobby’s

warnings: dirty/sexual jokes, established relationship, swearing, sexual innuendos, not a warning but thank you @whoetoshaw for some inspiration. please check her out! i will probably make another one 🤍

“Good morning campers, welcome back to the cut the camera podcast. It’s your hosts Nick Sturniolo,” Nick introduced, “Matt Sturniolo,” Matt told the camera, “and Chris Sturniolo.” The boys finished. “And we have a special guest if you couldn’t hear her laughing at us, Matt’s girlfriend, Y/n!” Nick told the camera as it showed you in your seat, smile on your face as you waved. “Happy to be here.” You spoke to the camera. It then panned to Matt sitting his his seat with his cheeks turning pink. “We had to beg her for so long to feature in one of these.” Chris laughed, shifting his hat as he spoke into the mic. “We had to buy her a box of Diet Coke.” He deadpanned. You smiled in response.

“Okay, to be fair, I’m not a social media person. I think the only social media I have and use a lot is Instagram and Facebook.” The three boys laughed as you mentioned Facebook. “It’s for family members! My grandparents have a hard time figuring out social media apps. But either way, have Tiktok but don’t even remember the last time I posted on there.” You tried to think but nothing was popping up. “That brings me into the first question,” Chris interrupts you, “what’s it like dating an “influencer” as some would call us while you just ━━ quite recently actually ━━ made your accounts public?”

“━━ before you speak,” Nick interrupted as Chris gave him an annoyed look and Matt groaned. “Here he goes.” Matt whispered into the mic. “I was just going to say she should introduce herself!” He yelled in defense as he put his hands up. “Oh shit, true.” Chris gestured to you. “Hello everyone, I am Y/n and I am a friend of the triplets and Matt’s girlfriend.” You started to introduce. “I like how she said a friend of the triplets and not just Matt’s girlfriend.” Nick laughed. “You know it babe.” You replied, laughing in your seat. “Anyway, I am nineteen. I am from Canada, and moved to LA around two ━━ three years ago? Yeah. Sorry, what was the question before?” “See, Chris? She has manners. You need to learn some.” Nick teased. “Shut the fuck up. The question was what’s it like to date an influencer?” Chris asked. Matt turned his head toward you.

“I’m not really sure what it’s like to not date an influencer since Matt was like . . . my first “real boyfriend” you could say, but I would assume it’s similar to a relationship with a non-influencer. You do the same things: dates, sleepovers, movies, etc. But he’s away sometimes,” you shrug, “when you guys went on tour, Matt was away a lot and we had to do long distance for a bit. I think it was hard for both of us ━━”

“━━ more for me.”

“━━ but it’s what happens when you date someone as famous as you guys are. I know what I was getting into, same with the social media part. I knew I would be on camera sometimes, especially because you guys vlog and other things. You guys respected my want to be off camera and I remember, Matt was so worried when we got together because we really liked each other but social media was his job, but I was fine with that! Of course I would be.”

“I was so worried,” Matt breathed out, “like I had mentioned before that I did what I do and she had mentioned that she didn’t want to be online, but when it got serious I didn’t want for this whole thing to be ruined because of what I do, you know?” “Of course,” Nick butted in, “and especially hate that she could’ve gotten ━━ no offense Y/n.” You nodded, “none at all. Completely agree.” “You would’ve felt a little scared, no?” Matt and you nodded. “I didn’t, and don’t, want her to be effected negatively from it. I mean, it’s inevitable really, but still. I couldn’t help it, still can’t, I’m her boyfriend.” “I knew what I was getting into,” you spoke, “it’s what happens in most male celebrity, youtuber fan bases. You guys get hate too sometimes.”

Chris nodded. “I think me and Nick were a bit unsure too. We had known you for awhile and we liked you. We talked to Matt about it too. Just saying like “watch out for hate,” and “support her,” and shit like that. You didn’t need any help at all.” “Like I said, I knew what I was getting into. I have friends that are dating some popular content creators and we have talked about it before. That’s how I know what to experience and how to deal with it. Thank you ━━“ there was a bleep as you said her name “━━ love you to bits.”

“What is it like to be on the podcast?” The youngest boy asked, looking at his phone and then to you. “To be honest? It feels great. I have seen this set from when it was just an idea to it actually happing and it is truly amazing to see what these boys can do.” You we’re honest, these boys had such great ideas and it felt unreal to see them come true. “Matt, you have such a nice girlfriend.” A laugh that sounded more like a giggle came out of Matt’s mouth. “Thanks. She is.” He replied, moving the mic. There was laughing around the table.

“This would’ve been super awkward if you were like “no, I hate her!”” You joked. Nick put his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what I would do if that actually happened.” “Well good thing I’m not going to say that.” Matt spoke, looking at his girlfriend. “Thanks. What a man everyone,” you clapped your hands, “get yourself someone like this guy over here.” You pointed to him.

“Yes!” Nick yelled, clapping too. “And, there’s two other brothers . . . but one is gay. He is still available? Boys? Hit that line. And Chris’s too,” you pointed to the long-haired brother, “it’s too often he tries to get into the bed with me and Matt because he hates sleeping alone.” You whispered into the mic. The camera moved to Matt nodding and then to Chris as he started to protest. “No! You’re just over too often. Stop hogging my brother. I slept with him first ━━ wait!” He puts his hands up. You moved your hand over you mouth in shock as Matt leaned his head against the table and Nick copied your movement. “Not like that! I meant we,” pointing to Matt, him, and Nick, “had sleepovers before you did.” “Bitch, don’t bring me into this.” Nick chimed in. “Real.” You agreed.

“Let’s just move on!” Your boyfriend suggested as he lifted his arms up. “What is like dating a triplet?” He asked. “It’s not that much from dating a regular guy, apart from the fact that either one of these kids is following him everywhere ━━ mostly Chris ━━“ which earned a “what?” from the guy “━━ and sometimes I’ll like . . . steal a sweater or some sweats or something from Matt and then I’ll just be on the couch and one of the boys will come in and be like “I’ve been looking for that” and it gets confusing.” You laughed. “But besides some of those confusions, it’s like dating a guy and having two best friends that come with him.” “A package deal.” Nick agrees. You snapped your fingers at him, “yes. Exactly like that. And it’s so fun. It can get annoying, but what’s any kind of relationship if you don’t get annoyed?” “Yeah guys. I may be annoying, but you still like me.” Chris jumped in. “Yeah, sometimes I doubt that.” “Me too.” The other brothers agreed. “That was so inspiring.” Nick said. “Thank you.” You did a fake bow in your seat.

“You also help keep the house clean since you practically live over at our house.” Matt added. “I do, I do. I literally have clothes and my skincare shit at you house. And a toothbrush ━━”

“━━ And a toothbrush.” Matt said at the same time. “It’s convient for sleepovers!” Nick explained. “And also because you do just live here. There have been so many times where I’ve knocked on Matt’s door and then opened it and Matt’s just playing games while you’re chilling in his bed.” You nodded, shrugging. It was true. “Dude ━━ I have gone to wake up Matt for the day and I won’t even notice she’s there until I hear her move or some shit cause she’s all up under the blankets. Surprised you’re even under the blankets with Mr. Blanket stealer over here.” Chris points to Matt as Nick nodded his head and you laughed.

“I just tug em’ back. Or he just grabs me. This kid . . . I swear it’s like I’m never close enough.” “I just run hot you’re always cold.” Matt retaliated. “You run hot because you steal all the blankets!” Nick yelled. “I feel sorry for Chris every time you guys have to share a bed.” “Do you really though?” The boy in question asked. “. . . Not really, no. I like my blankets. Maybe you can teach him to share Y/n.” “I will certainly try.”

“And she can teach you fuckers to clean,” Matt retorted, “every time I go into your room it’s like I am walking through a morgue.” After he finished there was a “hey!” from Chris and a “that’s not true!” from Nick. “Keep me out of this.” You held your hands up in defense. “I will clean what I need to.” “She’s like a second mom.” Chris compared. “Don’t say that. That’s weird.” Matt muttered into the mic. “Yeah, this is like the same argument as the use of mommy and daddy.” Nick agreed. “Now, you just made it weird,” Chris pointed at Nick. “How about we move on so we can stop this from getting even weirder.” Matt clapped his hands.

“Yes. Next question. You watch our videos I would assume?” Nick asked. “Of course, who would I be if I didn’t?” You replied. “Period.” Chris replied. Nick gave him a side eye, “anyway . . . How do you feel that people are writing fan fiction about your boyfriend?” You covered your mouth with your hand. “What?” Matt asked, looking scared. “You guys are going to hate me for this.” You spoke. “You didn’t make one about Matt did you?” Chris joked. “No! I wasn’t that weird. But a canon event in every girls childhood ━━ and I mean every single one - was writing or at least reading fan fiction. Brittany Broski is so real for talking about it. Me? It was the guy who played in Doctor Who. The 2000s one.” “David Tennant?” “Yes. I was an avid Wattpad user. You could catch me on there every fucking day dude. I think I still have my account.”

A scream filled the room as everyone looked at Nick. “We have to find it and go through it. But . . . I still can’t believe you used Wattpad.” “Dude, ask any mentally unstable female girl and I promise you, she will tell you she did. I don’t use it anymore, but I was obsessed.” “Are the videos awkward to you because you used to write shit or no?” Chris jumped in. “A little bit. I mean, it must feel weird getting fan fiction written about anyone. But I think because I’ve been in that spot and writing it that I understand a bit more,” you admitted, “the videos are great ━━ like every video of yours is - and it’s so funny to see your reaction.” “We need to bring you sometime if you’re up for it.” Matt suggested. “Maybe?” You shrugged, dragging the word out. “It would be super funny.” Nick commented. “Oh for sure, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to that phase in my life.” You grimaced.

“Hashtag trauma.” Chris responded. “Please never say that again,” Nick murmured. Matt agreed with a “that was so cringey.” “Really though,” you laughed, “you get it.” Chris got up from his seat and high-fived you. “Have you guys ever read fan fiction outside of filming?” “Oh, switcharoo question. I mean, I have to check and find stories and make sure we don’t get demonetized. I don’t know about these two.” Nick answered first. “I haven’t, but I find it weird that Matt has wattpad downloaded . . . And that he asked people to send some to him.” Chris spoke. “It’s not like that!” Matt yelled, putting his face in his shirt. “Matt, honey. It’s fine.” You joked. “Oh my god.” His voice was muffled from the sweatshirt.

“Is that how you got into reading like . . . Actual books?” Nick asked you. “Not really. I’ve been a reader since I learned to read, but it probably had some effect on my reading.” You responded. “I read a lot now, too. Like if you guys are filming I’ll just hangout im Matt’s room or something and read.” “She’s always reading.” Matt said into the mic. “No actually. We could be getting picked up by Matt and this kid is in the passenger seat with a book in her hand. How can you even read in the car?” Chris blurted. “I actually don’t get car sick. I think I’ve been car sick once. I sleep in the car too. And I have the best naps in the car. It’s just something puts me to sleep. I’m not sure what.” You explain. “But yeah, I do read a good amount. I’ve got Matt to read a little too. Chris would you ever read?” “Probably not,” he answered,” just have too much going on. And no offence, but if I have time off I’m not going to sit down and read. There’s so many other things I could do.” You nodded your head, “to each their own.” “I’ll like nap or something. I feel like we’re all avid nappers.” Chris asked.

“No, totally. I love napping.” Matt answered. “Me too.” Nick agreed. “I’ll only get up if I have to.” “I’ll only get up if Y/n gets up or if Chris wakes me up. There’s not a lot that will get me up. Except if I need to pee or we have something that day.” Matt added on. “It’s true,” you nodded, “he will not let me go. And if I get up, he will get up and pull me to the couch if I’m not already on it and just lay there.” Your boyfriend nodded. “Hey, at least you have a personal pillow.” Chris added on. You nodded again. “You should by lucky? You know how many girls would want Chris to do that?” The blonde boy continued. Chris made a weird face. “Hey guys, make a fan fiction about it.” Matt looked at the camera. “No!” Chris yelled, slapping Matt’s finger that was pointing to the camera. “I’m just kidding, I don’t really care as long as they’re not super weird and gross.” “Cheers to that.” Nick agreed.

“On this note, I think we should wrap it up.” Nick announced. “That was today’s episode, it was amazing. Everyone thank Y/n for coming on the podcast.” Chris faced you, speaking into the mic. “It was an absolute pleasure. I would love to come back if you would have me.” You thanked them. “Of course. We won’t let you leave.” The blonde boy joked. “Just kidding, but still, thank you for coming on and we will see you guys next time. Bye!” Everyone waved to the different cameras before it showed you in your seat with Matt sitting next to you. “He’s secretly clingy.” You said before the camera shut off.

[o-sachi]

Fell First & Fell Harder Pt. 1 ‧₊˚ ⋅ Blue Lock Chars. (Request)

ଳ you fell first, but they definitely fell harder ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, barou shoei, reo mikage, rin itoshi ଳ tags; fluff, gn reader, no y/n

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi

"Hm? You wanna go get dinner? Of course. Let's go."

Getting your feelings reciprocated wasn't all that hard. You liked each other and it was all good then. But it was obvious that you took the relationship seriously early on. For a lack of a better term, it was quite one-sided for a while.

He'd be thinking about that fact a lot. Should he be happy? Should he be guilty? So so many thoughts racked his brain.

Eventually—after thinking about it so much—it's like his brain reprogrammed him. A switch was flipped and one day he was lovesick with you. He realized that life wouldn't be the same if you weren't there for him.

Everything you did for him—piled up—and his heart caved. Isagi thought he was the biggest fool for not taking you seriously as well when you first started off.

The whippest of whipped men—I tell ya. He'll indulge you in every little wish and desire you had. Absolute princess treatment from him. But he does unironically call you "queen."

ᯓ Barou Shoei

"What are you talking about? I've always been serious about you!"

The only reason he didn't pour in as much effort at first was because he was too focused on football and improving himself. You fully supported him and his dreams though. Instant brownie points!

He realizes how determined you are to stand behind him no matter what. Slowly, but surely, he builds up so much gratitude for your efforts that he softens over time.

He also realizes that you don't deserve to just cheer him from behind. As a matter of fact, you should be right beside him instead—celebrating his wins as if it were your own.

Barou tries to do the same and support you in the things you love. He'll even learn a thing or two about your hobbies so that you can bond over that as well. He tries so hard to make the relationship so equal and fair. His attempts give you the butterflies.

He will deny at all costs that he didn't love you as much as he did now. Barou will insist that he had loved you soooo much ever since. You knew he was sugarcoating to save your feelings, but it was endearing how he tried nonetheless.

ᯓ Reo Mikage

"New shoes? What about some jewelry? C'mon, let me spoil you a bit."

He was a bit reserved about your relationship at first. You were lovely and every positive adjective out there—but he had his reasons to be iffy. He's stinking rich and people have definitely taken advantage of that before.

However, you weren't like his previous lovers. You could care less about his wealth; you loved him simply for him. Painstaking as it was—you made sure that he'd realize that somehow.

And he does notice this. It was subtle, but he'd slowly ease up on you—becoming more open, spending more time with you, and being more affectionate overall.

You know he's wrapped around your little finger because he just introduced you to his parents. That's when you know it's getting SERIOUS.

When he does fall deeply in love with you, he does a whole 360 and starts spoiling you like crazy. He'll treat you out to 5-star restaurants, buy you designer brand clothing, and bring you to places all over the world. As much as you try to refuse and settle for something more lowkey, he will never back down.

ᯓ Rin Itoshi

"You're so annoying... yeah, yeah... I love you too."

He was hesitant at first because he has major abandonment issues (poor baby). He liked you, sure, but that was as far as he'd allow himself to fall for you. "Love" seemed too serious and dangerous for him to get into.

His doubts bled into your relationship and made it difficult. Truthfully, there were times when you questioned if it was worth it. But you persevered; you wanted to prove him wrong.

After a major fight, he was sure that you were going to leave without another thought. He anticipated this moment yet, he felt like he wasn't ready at all for your departure in his life.

Rin was about to go into an existential crisis when... you somehow came back to him. You smiled at him as if nothing had happened. You told him that you still loved him for all his faults. It felt like he was slapped across the face (in a good way).

Once you had helped him overcome his issues, he felt a bit more comfortable with the idea of "loving" you. So much so that he'd do everything in his power to keep you happy at all times. He was sure that he will never come across someone like you again in his life.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - touchy touchy

modern ceo au! thinking about how miguel touches you so often around the office that a random guy decides to do something about it

You and Miguel don’t share a workplace. He’d end up being your boss anyway, and as much as you love spending time with him, it’s not good to have a partner that also gives you your paycheck. (Plus, distance can equal longing.)

Miguel constantly insist that you stay at home, and that he’d provide you with everything you could ask for but... feminism???( /j ) You have your own job conveniently down the street from Miguel’s office; it’s more of a hobby than it really is a job, but it gets you money.

The whole building knows you as “Miguel’s Wife”; you visit often. Sometimes your visits are a surprise, others it’s when you have nothing to do so you just hang by Miguel all day. You’re blessed with free food from the cafeteria, plus the gym. It’s fun to watch Miguel work out. 

Though, today was... funny.

Whenever Miguel thinks you guys are alone, he’s touchy. However, to Miguel, “alone” is just being in a room with less than 6 people in it. So, needless to say, his employees have seen things. 

You’re just so pretty, so cute to him, he can’t help but just worm his way over to you whenever in sight. 

Things along the lines of kisses, waist grabbing, thigh grabbing, hugs, back hugs, and even ass-slapping are a common sight to see when you’re around the office. Miguel truly, genuinely believes that he’s being sly, but that’s probably because everyone’s too scared/nice to say anything about it. Perks of being a CEO.

No one really tells the new recruits about it though, it’s just a you-see-it-and-get-used-to-it type of thing. 

So imagine your surprise when someone in the office pulls you aside one day and asks if Miguel is sexually assaulting you. 

Miguel’s been lingering his hands all over you today in particular, boldly sliding his big hand down towards your ass. You elbow him a little when he gets too close though, especially around a few people. 

“¿Por favor, querida?“ He whines, slithering his hand back onto you. 

“Oh my gosh, Miguel, no. Wait until we’re out of work.“

All is well, but Miguel has to tend to a few things, so you take it upon yourself to take a break at the cafeteria. Might as well bring him a drink while you’re at it.

Halfway through your walk there, some guy you’ve seen around taps on your shoulder and pulls you aside. He’s relatively young, has this assertive look to him. Among the quirky pins on his shirt pocket, you find an ID card labeled “INTERN.”

The worry on his own face makes you a little anxious. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?“ He asks, meeting his eyes with yours. He looks serious, peering from left to right as if a secret was being exchanged. 

“Uh- yeah, what do you mean?“

His voice is low, almost a whisper. “Girl, I’ve seen Miguel grope you... do you want me to call the police? I have a video right here as pr-“

A  gust of relief washes over you, and you almost start to laugh. You watch as the guy starts to pull up his phone, before you stop him. 

“Oh, no no no, it’s okay!“ You exclaim. “Miguel’s my husband, he’s just clingy!“

The man raises an eyebrow, concern lacing his voice. “You aren’t just saying that, right? Like, you’re really okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry. If he was actually bothering me, then I’d tell him.“ You chuckle, just to ease up the serious air a little bit. 

“Ah, well if you say so... If anything happens, just let me know.“ He says. 

“Yeah, thank you for the concern, though.“ You smile, and he smiles back, walking away around the corner where you assume he came from. 

With a little laugh, you continue your walk towards the cafeteria, thinking deeply about the interaction. It might be time for you to tell Miguel to stop touching you often around the office, as much as you enjoy it. He’d hate despise it though. 

If it weren’t for you being around so often, work life might not be as pleasant for his employees. You don’t think Miguel truly notices, but he starts getting huffy and puffy when you aren’t around to see him; people get a little more scared of him when he has this scowl on his face. 

“Who was that?“

You violently flinch, yelping out loud. In one swift motion, you swerve around, your heartbeat only easing down when you realize it’s just Miguel. 

“Miguel, honey, you gotta stop scaring me.“

“...Sorry. Who was that?“ He asks, obvious curiosity in his voice. Almost like it was muscle memory, he slips both hands onto your sides, reminding you of the topic at hand. (literally lmao)

“Just some guy... you know what he asked me, though?“

“If it was on a date he’s getting fired.“ Miguel promises darkly, squeezing at the fat of your sides. 

“No, Miguel. He asked if you were assaulting me. Even asked me if he wanted me to call the police.“

“Assaulting?“

“Yeah, because you keep on doing things like this-“ You place your hands on his. “- to me every time I visit!“

Like a guilty puppy, Miguel pouts to the side, reluctantly slipping his hands away from you. It takes you everything not to laugh at him as he grumbles to himself, that signature scowl building onto his face. 

“It’s fine, Miguel. You can still touch me. Just tone it down a bit when we’re around people, yeah?“

Miguel nods, slowly inching his fingers towards your hands. “Yeah. M’sorry.”

“Miguel, it’s fine. It’s not like I hate it, it might just be uncomfortable for your employees.“

Miguel sighs, dipping down his head to rest on your shoulder. He catches a whiff of your body wash, sweet and comforting. You giggle, a sound that Miguel would kill to hear for everyday of his life. You slide your own hands over onto his broad back, tracing your fingers against the muscle through his shirt. 

“I just... I think I love you too much.“ He mumbles, and your ears almost strain to hear it. 

“Awh, you know I love you too.“ You sweetly reply, squeezing him into a tight hug. He’s so darling, compressing you tight against him. 

“Just let me have this, and I’ll leave you be for a bit, hm?“ Miguel mutters into your ear, indulgently smoothing his big hands over your little back. Chills run up your spine when he presses a smooch to your ear. 

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that’ll last...“ You chuckle, letting him do what he wants for the time being. 

It takes Miguel longer than he really should to let you go, adoration clearly written on his face as he detaches his arms from you. 

“You wanna grab coffee with me before you have to go back?“ You ask, beaming at Miguel with a natural smile. 

Miguel doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You break off into a walk through the hallway, and Miguel has to remind himself every minute or so to keep his hands off. 

. . .

It didn’t work. 

Already in line for coffee, Miguel’s chin rests on top of your head, acting as if the previous conversation was entirely wiped clean from his memory. 

You sigh, knowingly speaking to the barista as if you didn’t have a 6′9 CEO strapped to your back like a koala. 

“Baby, what did we say?“

“Sorry...“

miguel is 6′9 because i said so and because of this tiktok

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[erwinsvow]

introducing... bitchy reader!

rafe never pays attention to sarah’s friends. new yet similar faces seem to make the rounds through tannyhill every week; the place was a revolving door. the occasional familiar girl would say hi to him, which would of course be ignored since he doesn’t care enough to say hi back.

so naturally, you become the exception to his little rule.

you and sarah are on opposite sides of the counter, flicking through magazines and taking sips from overpriced iced coffees, when he overhears a conversation that makes him stop and listen.

“-and he’s not like topper, like, at all. he’s really nice and actually talks to me instead of at me-”

“wow,” he hears you say, dragging out the syllables and sarcasm dripping from your voice. “such standards you have. no, really.”

“shut up. he’s totally sweet-” sarah says, but you interrupt her.

“he’s, like, totally a dirty pogue.” that catches his attention—not just the fact that there’s something going on between his sister and some pogue, but the way you say the sentence, how the words sound coming from your mouth. 

you nearly sound like rafe.

“that is so rude-”

“what? i’m just being honest. i’d be a bad friend if i didn’t tell you the truth.”

“what truth?” his sister questions.

“that you’re settling for some pogue boy because you’re bored of top. i get it. if i was dating him i’d be bored enough to fuck a pogue too.”

rafe cringes at the topic even though your word choice makes him laugh—topper is boring, though he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone else bring it up until now. he steps back into the doorway, watching the two of you. the crass words are coming from you, dressed in a sunny yellow dress and tapping pretty pink nails against the counter. 

“hey! i’m not bored-”

“you mean, you like hearing about his boat and golf every single day?”

“he has other hobbies! like-”

“like what?” you pause, watching sarah’s expression before giving her a pointed look—a look that says told you so. “who are you really trying to convince right now?” you flip through another magazine, finding something that must have caught your eye. you lift it to show sarah—some pinked striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers on the pages. “don’t i totally need this?”

“shut up.”

“that’s what someone says when they know the other person’s right,” you say with a mocking smile, setting down the magazine. he’s watching the whole thing—you’re funnier than he would have thought. “and if you change your mind just go to country club. top’s dime a dozen there.” the two of you start laughing. 

“i’m not gonna change my mind-”

“that’s what you said when you started dating topper,” you say it deadpan, and rafe holds back a laugh.

“-because he’s really nice. he’s a good guy.”

“ugh, sarah. making out with a dirty pogue at a bonfire is one thing. you’re talking like you’re in love. get a grip.”

“what? what’s so wrong with that?” sarah asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“because you can’t be in love with someone you have to hide your valuables around.” that’s when he decides to walk in—sarah sputtering on her drink while you roll your eyes.

“and what’re you girls talkin’ about?” rafe asks, and two sets of eyes turn to look at him. you look at him a little confused—in all the years you’ve known sarah and times you’ve been at tannyhill, rafe’s never once spoken to you.

“i don’t think it’s any of your business-” his sister says, and then he rolls his eyes. you interrupt right away.

“sarah, it’s okay.” you turn to rafe, looking right at him and leaning in a little like you’re gonna tell in something. “it’s really not any of your business.”

blank face, trying to be annoyed but not actually feeling annoyed, he stares back at you. his sister laughs stupidly, heading into the living room. she leaves you alone with rafe in the kitchen, but as you grab your drink and try to follow sarah, rafe says something.

“y’know i heard that shit you were sayin’. you’re funny, kid.” you turn back to look at rafe.

“thanks. i wasn’t joking.”

“yeah. good. at least one of my sister’s friends has ‘er head screwed straight.” you laugh, but the look on your face says you didn’t think it was funny.

“are you trying to compliment me? by insulting all my other friends?” he wasn’t expected that retort.

“no. no, i-”

“maybe if your friend wasn’t such a shit boyfriend, sarah wouldn’t be talking to some pogue. but hey, what do i know?”

“hey, kid, i-”

“don’t call me that.” you roll your eyes, walking to the living room without even glancing back at rafe. he calls out after you again.

“so have you?” you pause, turning again.

“have i what?” “made out with some pogue at the bonfire.” he shrugs. “that’s what you said to sarah, isn’t it?”

“again, how is that any of your business?” you ask, cocking your head at him.

“that’s not an answer.”

“i don’t owe you an answer. but for the record, no, i haven’t. i actually have standards.” he doesn’t miss the remark and what it says about his sister.

“good,” rafe says, looking at you. his eyes rake over your body before he can stop it—your short hem, the jewelry dangling on your wrists and neck, the heels even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.

“shut up. weirdo.” you walk to the living room where sarah’s waiting for you.

rafe’s gonna have a hard time staying away from you.

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕖 (oneshot)

I brushed the flour off my hands and onto my apron when the bell rang. Dark brown eyes met mine as I gazed at who my newest customer could be. I was merely in my 20s and had my own business going on here. I recognized the male quickly as one of my best friends from town.

“Alastor! What brings you in here today?” My smile matched his. I swear he is always smiling unless it was just us in private sometimes. I walked around the counter and ditched my apron there. He had his hands behind his back as I approached him.

“Hello, dear! Just stopping by for a quick meal before my show!” The clock above the door read to be 5:30PM. Wow, time really flies by nowadays. My smile broadened as I clasped my hands together.

“Always a pleasure to have you stop by! I have your favorite already almost done! I was planning on bringing it over when I closed up.” He smiled wider and gracefully ditched his coat on the rack, turning my open sign off, and locking the door for me. My footsteps quietly echoed down the basement steps as I entered the room dedicated to Alastor. Carefully putting on my rain boots, bloody apron, and my rubber gloves. My hair was already pulled out of my face messily. 

Alastor’s jazzy music started playing upstairs as he started helping finish my closing duties, our weekly ritual turning almost daily nowadays. As I finished making his meal, I thought of how close Alastor and I have become after I found out his secret. It was truly so romantic how it happened even though he was worried I wouldn’t understand his… hobby and diet. 

I was locking up my just opened bakery, excited that it was very successful so far. There was a strange man across the street watching me. I brushed it off slightly, just noting to hussle home faster. Alastor’s radio station was down the street from me along with Mimzy’s place a couple more blocks further. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if I hurried in to wait for this creepy man to leave. But, along the walk, I heard his footsteps get heavier and closer. I grabbed my heel and whipped around, talking loud since I was outside of the radio station now. 

“Leave me be or face my wrath!” I held the heel, ready to bash his face in if need be. The man started laughing, towering over me. My heart was pounding and my hands shaking. I loved the thrill but not like this. 

“A pretty gal like you shouldn’t walk home alone then, yeah?” He wasn’t leaving room for an option here. My back pressed against the wall. I knew I would lose ultimately, even if I played dirty. 

“Good thing she wasn’t.” Before I could peer around the creep, I saw blood dripping from his mouth as he fell over. I watched his body collapse onto the ground with a heavy thud, then the stab wound on his back became clear. My eyes flashed to who my savor, or maybe new threat, stood before me. 

“Are you alright, dear?” My eyes looked into familiar brown eyes. Alastor, who I knew but wasn’t awfully close to, stood in front of me. He was carefully cleaning his knife but watching me. I wasn’t scared of him at all, if anything, his presence made me relax. I breathed out, not realizing I was holding it this whole time.

“Oh, Alastor. Thank you!” My eyes looked back down and back up at him, then it clicked. He was the unknown killer that started as of late. 

“What a disgusting fellow. I am truly sorry for this mess, (Y/n). You were never supposed to become involved at all. Please do forgive me, dear.” 

“What ever for? He had it coming, yes? How bout I help you out.” I smiled up at Alastor, pointing towards my shop. He seemed confused and uncertain before leaning against the wall, pinning me between him and the cold brick against my back. He leaned down as his arm rested above my head and the other beside my head. He had a crazed look in his eyes, alongside a crazed smile. Oh good heavens did it cause my heart to beat fast, I could feel my eyes glazing over how attractive this was. My hand absentmindedly wiped the blood off his cheek as he spoke.

“I take a smart lady, such as yourself, has put it together by now. I can’t have a witness or it’ll ruin this whole thing I have going on here.” He stopped, registering my hand wiping the blood from his face, his eyes moved to watch my hand, unmoving. Those dark brown eyes slowly drifted back over to look at my face before slyly whispering.

“You’re just as disturbed as me, aren’t you my dear?” 

I shut the door to the basement, locking it. All the dishes were done in the kitchen, everything put away. Along with the dishes, the floors were swept and the counters tidy. What a lovely man to have around. I was truly a lucky gal for having such a gentleman make sure I always got home safe and help me out here. I cannot lie, I was falling deeper and deeper with his charm. I pushed the door open to the dining area, placing Alastor’s special jambalaya in front of him. A set of dark eyes following my every move with such a beautiful smile on his face. Our eyes meet and stare as I take my seat across from him. Crossing my legs, I took a bite of some of the jambalaya as he took a bite of his own. It was a peaceful meal we would share. Though, it didn’t slip my mind how he has started stopping in more often lately. Not that I minded at all, but I was worried I would fall deeper with his charm. 

“Alastor?” He swallowed his bite, looking up at me. 

“Before you begin, I just wanted to thank you for this delicious meal my dear!” I smiled bashfully, loving his compliments. It took time to learn what went best with human meat and what Alastor likes best. 

“Why, thank you!” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned towards me, interest dancing in his eyes. 

“Your question, sweetheart?” 

“Oh, yes! What has brought you around more often? Not that I mind your company, quite the opposite really.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My fingers covering my lips as I process what exactly I just said. Alastor’s smile widened before his hands moved to hold my own.

“Oh, doll. I just enjoy your company so much, I can’t help but catch myself wandering into your fine establishment!” He kissed the back of my hand, maintaining eye contact with me. My smile widened with the red across my face. He really was quite charming. 

“Oh, Alastor. You are always quite the charmer.” We held each other’s hands gently, staring into each other’s eyes. I felt myself leaning over the table, one of his hands moving to hold my face softly. He was leaning in too, closing his eyes as he was mere inches away from my face. My hands held onto his hand as I pulled the rest of the way in, connecting our lips gracefully. The kiss was more blissful than anything I have ever imagined, but was sadly cut short when there was banging on the shop’s doors. We both jumped away from our kiss, looking at the door. Through the window curtains, I caught a glimpse of policemen. 

“You have to leave, my love.” Pushing him towards the secret exit in the back. He looked at me with a strained smile. The banging got more aggressive as the policemen began their threats to enter. Alastor whispered, “Come with me, please.” 

“I wish I could, my love. We both know they will catch us if we can’t have a distraction.” I held his hands before placing a quick kiss, pushing him gently. 

“Go, now.” The policemen started breaking the door down as Alastor quickly scampered out back. He turned around only to see the policemen aim their weapons at myself. I was pushing the policemen back and fighting them, trying to stab them. I was only successful in my murder attempts on the lead detective before Alastor watched myself be shot . He waited for the other two officers to be distracted before he took my butcher knife and sliced both their throats efficiently. For good measures I saw him hack at their throats till their heads were chopped off. 

There was pain in my stomach from where I was shot, I was holding over the gunshot wound. Blood trickled out and pooled below my body, but I was able to watch Alastor chop them ruthlessly. He had lost his smile momentarily and had tears running from his eyes as he rushed to my side, covered in blood. He gently held my face, wiping my own tears off my face desperately. I coughed blood before quickly ordering what he needs to save himself.

“You need to burn this whole place down, Al. Leave our bodies in it and run away.” His eyes flickered between my own before he brushed the hair out of my face. I knew he wasn’t going to leave my side. My bloody and shaky hands held his cheek before I whispered, “I love you, Alastor. But, you need to do as I say if you wish to stay a free man. Please.” 

“I will find you, my dear. In every lifetime, I will find you. I love you, (Y/n).” As he said those words, the world around me started to melt around me. I felt my soul fall from my body and plummet downwards, falling. It looked like I was falling through the Earth’s ground, colliding with another ground that was surrounded by dark colors. I was in what I assumed to be Hell.

(As always, charcters belong to the respective owners and the story belongs to me! I hope you enjoy this tiny dabble I got inspired by Insane by Black Gryph0n , Baasik. Hope you enjoy it :)!)

[ethereallyjade]

Pick a Song: How to Build your Confidence

Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If you're interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist

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Images are not mine

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟙

the boy is mine

I'm feeling hesitancy. "Take some time and you'll get there."

Be more spontaneous and outgoing. Say yes more often (when comfortable ofc) and a whole new you could very well emerge.

I'm seeing painting or writing, some sort of creative hobby that involves a tool of some kind or maybe ink.

You have talents and you should be using them in competitions, or at the very least putting your work out there for others to see.

Be an artist, and more importantly, own it.

Your work should be filling you with excitement, not dragging you down. Do something that makes you happy, it's been too long. Or maybe travel a little. Do something that actually excites you and fills you with ideas and passion, then you'll be that much closer to a feeling of fulfillment.

Channeled Song: Kissland - The Weeknd (Yo, as I was looking for the song, I saw the show 'You' pop up. Maybe you should go watch it on Netflix or something, especially considering the pic you chose lol)

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟚

MILLION DOLLAR BABY

Okay, I'm already getting that you're pretty smooth with it.

"Just keep being you, baby"

I feel a cocky sort of energy, a smirk, something flirtatious. Maybe you're good at flirting or you should allow yourself to be more flirty.

Okay, after pulling the cards I'm seeing two different ways to interpret this pile.

One. You are holding yourself back from your own happiness. You are already everything you want to be, but you hold yourself back and put on a face for everyone. You act so mature and independent that you don't allow yourself to have fun, and in order to feel more happy, you need to ease your control over yourself and just allow yourself to feel in the moment and have fun. Worry later. Allow yourself to be excited again!

Or two, you're the complete opposite and you need to get more control over yourself. Maybe you have a bit of an ego, or trust too much, or have ridiculously high expectations. Sometimes you go too hard and end up embarrassed or people start talking about you and you're inability to stop. If this resonates, then you need to have a little more independence and maturity. This will grant you the freedoms and money that you need in order to thrive and glow in the future. Your hard work will bring you abundance right now, then in the future you'll look back and realize all the things you thought you had were actually really fake and how much better things are for you now. You are already great, but you could be more. Create some stability and realness in your life, honey.

Channeled Song: Burning Down the House - Talking Heads

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟛

BOA

"Take it slow" "It's okay to make mistakes"

Are you a perfectionist? A little hard on yourself when you mess up? Allow yourself to make mistakes.

Girly, you are already great. Don't let your spirits die. Don't let your talents die.

I'm feeling that you've been really down lately; loss of faith and hope, loss of optimism.

I know it's hard to just get more optimistic, especially when you've been let down so many times, but I'm seeing that you just need to hang on a little longer, push a little harder, because something great is about to happen just around the corner.

Don't fool yourself. You hold all the power that you need. I know you're tired, but you still gotta be the one that gets up and makes a difference in your life. Just trust yourself, and trust your talents. You will get there.

You've been through more than enough challenges lately, but I'm seeing that the answer to your problems is actually very simple: Just step away for a moment. The reason you can't overcome is because you're not allowing yourself to use you talents or creativity to their fullest potential. You put too much stress and pressure of yourself and it's not allowing you to be at your best. Take some time, de-stress, don't think about the issue at all, then come back and you'll be more than ready. Pressure only boils you down. Take time to flourish and you'll be everything you need to be.

You are already everything. Just let yourself breath and you'll realize nothing ever needed to change about you, because you already have it.

Channeled Song: Disturbia - Rihanna

[strawberryspence]

Eddie’s never been in a serious relationship. He’s used to kissing in the dark alleys of a bar, murmured lies underneath bleachers. He was never the one to be shown off, to be proud off and celebrated. No matter how much he yearned for it, he was never meant to be that person. 

Not until he meets Steve Harrington. And god, to be loved by him really makes Eddie rethink all of his preconceived opinions. Maybe Eddie is serious relationship material. 

But Steve… Steve’s a hopeless romantic. He gets him a set of D&D dices just because he thought Eddie would love them. Opens the door for him, opens the car for him. Tries to learn his hobbies, learns to like it. The first time they slept together, Eddie woke up with breakfast in bed. Which was fucking ridiculous because Steve should be the one waking up with breakfast in bed. He buys Eddie flowers for every date, even though Eddie teases him for it. 

And Eddie— Eddie’s a newbie in this. He’s been trying his best to catch up in the romance department. He resolves to do something when Steve got him some tulips for a date once and Eddie brought it up. 

“I love it, Stevie. It’s so nice to get flowers, hmmm?” Eddie smiles, a little bit dazed with affection as he smells the flower. 

Eddie would like to think he knows Steve’s expressions pretty well. So when he sees that beautiful smile drop from his boyfriend’s face, it all clicks for Eddie.

Steve Harrington has never gotten flowers. 

Eddie starts with those flowers in Melvald’s. Joyce has very nicely informed him that they are called Gerberas. Eddie got Steve a bunch of different colors. It’s not that big, just a small bundle. He didn’t want to over do it, just wanted to test the waters. Find out how his boyfriend feels about getting flowers.

It’s embarrassing walking with a bunch of flowers, with his whole metal thing but all of that vanishes when Eddie picks Steve up for a date and he sees the flowers in Eddie’s hands. 

“What’s that for?” Steve looks at the flowers warily. 

Eddie smiles, trying to hide the nerves he’s been feeling since he got the flowers, “For you, sunshine. They reminded me of you so I got them.” 

Like everything else he’s offered Steve— his friendship, his life, his heart— Eddie holds out his hand with just enough courage.

Steve takes the flowers with reluctance, staring at it with fondness and some other emotion Eddie can’t pinpoint. 

They sit in silence for a minute, as Steve just stares and as Eddie just stands with his nerves. Eddie opens his mouth to take it back, and to just swallow the embarrassment. Maybe flowers just ain’t for everyone. 

But then, Steve starts tearing up, sniffling a little, as he blinks at Eddie, “I love it, baby. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” 

Eddie stares in shock as his boyfriend runs back into the house to put it in a vase. Steve’s eyes are still red around the rims when he finally comes out, his nose scrunched up from the sniffling. 

Eddie doesn’t bring it up, he knows Steve won’t want to talk about it. But if they’re a little clingy with each other in the coming days, who’s gonna be mad? 

Since then, Eddie’s made it his life mission to get Steve flowers on the randomest days. He’ll get Steve some sunflowers on bad days, maybe pick him some daisies from the field for when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.

Till to this day, Steve gets a little teary eyed when Eddie gets him a random flower. It melts Eddie’s heart into a goo, that this simple action makes his boyfriend tear up with joy. He thinks, in a few more weeks, he’ll garner enough courage to buy flowers and just tell Steve that he loves him. 

It goes on for a few weeks before it comes to a halting stop one random summer day. Steve’s car had to go into the shop for maintenance, so Eddie picked him up and dropped him off to work. When he’s about to pick him up, Eddie goes and picks up some carnations Joyce had reserved for him.  

“Hello, to my favorite lesbian.” Eddie greets when he enters the Family Video store, only seeing Robin at the counter. He closes the doors behind him, flipping the sign from open to close.

“Hello to you too, my favorite gay.” Robin lights up, throwing away the magazine she’s reading. 

“I am here to pick you and the majesty.” Eddie dramatically bows, the flowers still in his hand.

Robin laughs, making grabby hands at him, “You could’ve just picked us up. No need for flowers, you know?” 

Eddie laughs. Whoops, maybe he should’ve gotten something for Robin too. “I am sorry, Robin. This ones for my Stevie. I’ll get you something next time.” 

Robin stares at him, blinking in surprise, “Those flowers are for Steve?” 

Eddie nods enthusiastically. 

“Steve? Our Steve?” 

Eddie squints at her, “Do we have any other Steve?” 

“Our Steve… who is… very much allergic to flowers?”

Eddie blinks at her with owlish eyes. 

“No, he’s not!” He exclaims. 

Robin looks at him, and back to the flowers, then back to him again. She gets this look on her face, like she holds the key to the universe. If Eddie squints really hard, he can see the bulb lighting on her head. 

But then she bursts out of laughter. Bend to your knees, hitting the floor, aching ribs kind of laughter. 

Okay, Eddie’s kinda offended now. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, unable to hide his frown. 

“What’s happening?” Steve comes out from the backroom, confused with Robin’s laughter. “Oh, hey Eds!” 

Robin turns to him, pointing and red on the face with laughter,  “Oh my god. Steve— you’re freaking whipped!” 

“What?” Steve turns to her with confusion. 

Eddie and Steve just stare at her as she takes her time to calm down. 

“I thought…” Robin takes a breath, “I thought you were having a very extreme allergic reaction to spring. I was this close to booking you an appointment with the doctor! You didn’t tell me you were getting flowers from Eddie.” 

Eddie turns to his boyfriend, “Stevie? Are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No!” Steve exclaims. He grabs the flowers out of Eddie’s hands, “See! I am fine!” 

“Steve.” Robin warns.

“I am fine! I love getting flowers from you, Eds. It’s— it’s the best.” 

They stare at each other. Steve squints, his nose scrunching up when he gets a whiff of the flowers. 

“Achoo!” 

“You are allergic!” Eddie exclaims, points an accusing finger at him. 

“I am sorry!” Steve says, his eyes watering again. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?! What kind of boyfriend am I?” Eddie pulls on his hair in frustration, bringing it into his mouth, “Jesus! I was giving you so many flowers! You must’ve felt awful! How could I have not seen that?!” 

“Eddie—“ Steve moves closer. 

“I thought you were crying with joy when I gave you flowers. It was allergies! Why didn't you tell me?!”

“Oh my god!” Robin shouts, making both of them freeze. She turns to Steve, “Steve! Why didn't you tell your boyfriend you were allergic? That’s dumb and made you sick!” 

She then turns to Eddie, “And Eddie! Steve's extremely, insanely, in love with you to the point that he’ll accept the flowers from you! It’s nothing against you! He wants the flowers, his body doesn’t!” 

Huh? 

“What did you say?” Eddie croaks out, breathless with disbelief. 

“Robin.” Steve gasps. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “I said Steve is extremely—“ She stops, her eyes widening in realization, “Uh-oh. Uhm.” 

She perks up, cupping her ears, “What’s that? Did you guys hear that? I think there’s a raccoon in the backroom. Let me check. You guys stay here.” Robin basically zooms out of the room.  Eddie has never seen her move that fast, and they fought an evil wizard together.

Eddie turns to Steve when they’re finally alone. 

“Give me that.” Eddie says, pulling the flowers away from Steve.

“That’s mine.” Steve pouts. 

“Sunshine, you’re allergic.” Eddie keeps the flowers away from him, tucking it on the table. They stand awkwardly around each other, not knowing what to say. 

“Did you hear—“

“What was Robin—“

Eddie smiles at him, softening when he sees Steve chew on his lips nervously, “You first, Stevie.”

Steve nods, gulping as his eyes finally meet Eddie’s, “I am sorry for not telling you. I really loved the flowers and I honestly thought the medication would be enough. Maybe next time, you can tell me beforehand so I can take some and actually enjoy being around them.” 

“I am never getting you flowers anymore if it gets you all sniffly.” Eddie chuckles at Steve’s headstrong perspective, “So— Uh— About what Robin said…” 

Steve straightens up, stammering to spit the words out, “You don’t have to say anything! I am not forcing you to say anything, Edd. We could forget it even happened. Who even is Robin?” 

Eddie moves closer, pushing Steve in between the aisles of the store where no one from outside can see them. 

“I just want to know if it’s true, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, his own voice quivering with anxiety and anticipation. 

Steve stares at him, sensing his boyfriend’s own worry. The nerves in his face melted into an affectionate smile. 

“Eds, baby. I kept all the flowers you gave me till they died even though it gave me the worst allergies. Of course, I am," He scoffs, "As Robin has said, extremely, insanely, in love with you.” 

Eddie breaks into a smile, “Well, I am also extremely, maybe even more insanely, in love with you. The flowers weren’t exactly fitting my metal image, but I was still out there picking out flowers in the field.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “Oh, you’re annoying.” 

There’s no more words said after that. Well, because they started making out right there, all the newly found love and emotions all in the open. That in itself is enough for now.

After the night Eddie found out that Steve’s allergic, Eddie calls El up. The next day, El teaches Eddie how to make origami flowers.

Eddie never buys flowers for Steve ever again. 

He makes it for him instead.

(No one tell Steve, but in a few years, Eddie will ask him to unfold the paper flowers. Only to find a question wedged between its stems and folds. Steve says yes to the question, with real tears of joy.

On their wedding day, Steve will walk down another aisle, a bouquet of handmade flowers made from Eddie's hospital discharge papers and NDAs in his hand.)

[patrywoso]

9. Georgia Stanway

+18 SMUT

“Don’t be scared,” you enjoy it somewhat but you don't let on, admiring your handiwork as the tightly wound football player spins off the floor in bundles and bundles of rope. “This isn’t about hurting you or making you feel small. I just want you to feel good…”

“I feel like a rotisserie chicken,” Georgia murmurs, clearing her throat and blushing.

“Yes you’re right, rotisserie chickens are very delicious,” you nod, smirking and capturing a thigh to tighten it up a little bit. “I think we’ll get this knee a bit higher so I can watch that pretty cunt of yours do little twirls for me.”

“Do you have to be so crass?”

“Yes baby,” you crane down and kiss her forehead, push-pulling on the working ends to bring the thigh up higher to the bamboo. “I do.”

It had started with flirting around the idea, spoken about yet never with serious intention on Georgia’s part, she knew about the shibari classes, the workshops, that it was an interest you felt passionate about, but not a hobby she had the precious hours in the day to indulge in. Your relationship was one of quickies: shower sex, stadium sex, car sex, elevator sex. At first, you thought it was because Georgia really did only have so much time in the day. But, you knew Georgia far better now that you both had been dating for some months. you had come to realize she just got off on the exhilaration of possibly getting caught. Georgia was more kinky than she realised.

“The inside of my thigh feels a little sore,” Georgia observes almost clinically.

“I would be very worried if it didn’t, bratty girl.” you smile and undo her pristine ponytail into a cascade of glossy blonde hair.

You dig and rub your fingers into Georgia’s scalp, finding little pressure points on either side of the temple to relieve tension. Georgia can’t help herself, she sighs happily and the tightness in her shoulder blades visibly releases. The rope cradles her, suspends her, and keeps her arms in a box tie behind her spine, her thighs splayed and supported, clean suspension lines that are approximate and comfortable. “You look so fucking beautiful,” you whisper from the back of your throat, lips pressing to Georgia’s ear, teeth nipping the pinkened top of it. “Do you feel far away and dreamy yet?”

Georgia exhales and thinks, her brow wrinkling into a furrow as though she wants to deny it but her thighs are hanging apart and the evidence is plain to see. When she inhales, you push on the flat of her shoulder and send her slowly spinning around on her axis, like a little planetary body, like a little world in and of herself.

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” you laugh, sultry and low. “We have the whole evening ahead of us, remember?” you remind her. “You can take as long as you need to get there.”

“About that,” Georgia murmurs, eyes closed and struggling to be the disinterested onlooker that she was when the rope first went on. “I might have a business call to take in a little…”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“It’s important.”

“I don’t care.”

“If the phone calls then I’m answering it.”

“Oh, are you now?” you hum, glancing around the living room, and then your eyes land on the phone by the coffee table. “Tell me more, please? I like it when you’re grumpy.”

“Baby.” Georgia opens her eyes, determined to be in control and to have the final word. “If my phone goes then we’re stopping so I can take…..wait, what are you doing?”

“Dynamic problem-solving.” you bring the phone back towards the tied-up troublemaker. “Thumbprint, please. I’ll put your phone on airplane mode.”

“No.” “You promised me an undisturbed evening for my birthday,” you say sternly.

“One little phone call won’t ruin a whole evening.” Georgia tucks her fingers in her fists behind her spine and won’t budge.

“Give me your thumb, Georgia, this is your last warning.”

Georgia just smiles coyly and keeps her thumbs and fingers balled. “Sorry,” she somehow manages to shrug in her box-tie. “No can do.”

“Alright, have it your way.”

“What are you…” Georgia’s eyes grow wide as the arm pulls back, the shoulder swings and the phone is thrown through the open balcony doors “Baby!” She hisses.

“No more call,” you shrug and pick up her flogger. “You want to complain about it?” You twist the handle and show the crybaby the spreading falls of leather.

Georgia’s ribs swell outwards against the rope with a long, deep inhale of breath. She holds it, cheeks puffed, eyes fixed on the flogger that was about to punch holes in the plot points of her machinations.

“I’ll get to it later,” she says, much more diplomatically.

“You know I think a little polite deference is the only thing incapable of hurting you right now.” you lift your eyebrow, smirking and remembering the words you both had negotiated around as being possible greens.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Georgia licks her lips and closes her eyes.

“That sounds so pretty in your mouth little girl,” you quirk a pleased look, spinning the flogger around until gravity gathered up and concentrated the falls. “Does it feel right?”

Georgia pauses for the longest time.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And,” you wiggle your brows, striking the front of her thigh with a tame gentle thud. “I would like it if you made a point of using it for the rest of tonight, please.” Georgia nods but says nothing.

The strikes of the flogger are never too solid, never more than you feel Georgia will find pleasurable. The flogger whips the air, its bark far worse than its bite, striking the front of her thighs, expertly wrapping over the hip to catch her buttock.

“More please” Georgia whispers out of nowhere.

You grin when it registers in your brain.

“You’re forgetting something, baby girl.”

“More please, Ma’am.”

Georgia spins and twirls slowly in the rope, quiet, thrilled, straining, and sweating. In the moments she’s capable of speaking, she whimpers instead. You bury your fingers deep inside her little tight cunt, push-pressing into the tiny spot of heaven right behind her clit, palm dug against her swollen hood, edging her towards the gates of hell.

“Ma’am please, please, please…” Georgia’s eyes crack open. “Please can I cum?”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” you hum and slip your other hand up her belly.

The box tie makes Georgia’s breasts bulge and squeeze off her chest, nipples swollen, begging to be sucked, bit, played with, and squeezed hard until she breaks into tears. You do none of these things. You graze over them gently, circling, teasing them stiff and hard until Georgia is gritting her teeth and whining.

“Such a dirty, wet, messy little thing.” you remove your fingers and hold them up, webbing them, pushing them into hung crimson lips to be sucked clean. “Good girl, use your tongue. That’s it…” You slip the two fingers over the flat of her eager little tongue and make her gag and wretch into her fingers. “Good girl, give me your spit. What do you say Georgia?”

“Thank you,” Georgia mumbles incoherently against the fingers pressing down into her tongue. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Such a good, good girl.” you smile happily. “Tell me what you are.”

“Your good girl, Ma’am,” Georgia closes her eyes, embarrassed and thrilled.

“My good girl, huh?” you push your fingers back inside slick, swollen cunt lips. “You know I take great pride in pretty things that belong to me… maybe I’ll have to get you a collar,” you said while fucking her hard.

When Georgia whimpers and moans, it’s so much weaker and softer than her normal sounds. It’s the noise of a woman on the brink of her sensibilities, on the brink of new realizations about herself. You want to give her all and more, she looks so pretty like this, tied-up, spread open, pink, and puffing for air. She would look prettier with a hand wrapped around her throat, you think, but decide that will be more fun when it’s negotiated for another special evening, and there certainly will be another.

Fingers hilted far inside her cunt, curling against her g-spot, you are fucking her deep and fast until her hips are jolting and shaking in the air, you work her hard, relentless even. Her gleaming little asshole twitches and flexes. You grin, gathering saliva on the back of your tongue. When you hoicks a glob of spit, expert aim, dripping down her asshole, it does things to Georgia. You press your thumb into her ring, not penetrating, not delving too far, just pressing and circling against her slippery little hole. Georgia cries out and bucks her hips, forehead wrinkling, brows knitted, teeth clenching, her throat tense and rocking with want.

“Poor little baby girl,” you crane down and kiss her belly in sporadic little trails. “You feel so fucking drippy and desperate, princess, I can feel you clenching, you should be careful… I would hate it if you were sore tomorrow.”

“Shut up!” Georgia barks, giggling and moaning in the same breaths. It gives you an abrupt good laugh too.

“Fine baby,” you whisper and you fuck the clingy little cunt with your fingers, slipping out, smoothing your fingers over flush wet lips, circling her throbbing clit, pushing back in fast and deep. “You want to cum?”

“Yes please Ma’am, And.” Georgia nods frantically, gathering her breath. “Will you… will you put your thumb in?”

“My thumb in your butt?” you have to bite back the smirk.

“Please?”

“Well I would just hate it if it was too much for you to take kitten.” you grin and nip her hipbone, fingers curling and fucking her to oblivion. “But, if you’re sure”

“I’m sure!” Georgia almost wails. “I’m sure, sure, sure! Please, I can’t…” Georgia rocks her hips, desperate and close. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

“You’ll hold on as long as I fucking tell you to hold it, baby. God help you if you don’t.” you made no bones, warm and soft and indifferent. “There’s a good girl, just give up, there you go, it will be so much better for you when you learn to just let me make the decisions…”

Georgia finally cries. It isn’t thick horrible destructive tears, she weeps, bottom lip going, nodding slowly, melting into her helplessness. She cries, and it’s enough to soften the little malevolent god between her legs.

“There you go,” you hush, thumb dipping and pressing inside. Georgia inhales a breath too big for her lungs, stiff and on the edge of herself. “Jesus, you’re sucking me inside greedy girl” You feel her muscles tense and flex against your thumb.

“So good!” Georgia makes less and less sense, barely holding on to herself. “Please? Please, Daddy?”

You blink, registering the deference, a word that hasn’t been negotiated, and yet… sounds and feels so fucking perfect. You just nod into it, feeling it out, thrilled and aroused beyond reason.

“Okay baby,” you husk when her muscles get tight all at once when the poor little baby dripping down her wrist can’t take anymore. “You can cum for Daddy.”

“Thank you!”

Georgia cums in a rush, explodes all at once, a big bang in and of herself. You grin and feel her flexing pretty holes get tight, fucking, forcing them to take more and more despite the sensitivity. It makes Georgia blink away tears, makes her open-mouthed sob stay hung and silent, frozen, her brain stuck like a stalled engine. You fuck her harder, faster, thrumming against her swollen g-spot until you’re certain you got the right angle.

Then, you really make Georgia burst.

“There you go princess,” you hush and rub dripping fingers up and over her soaked, twitching swollen cunt. “Such a good, good, good girl.” you laugh, teasing a bucking, over-sensitive clit that twists and tries to escape your ministrations.

“S-sorry,” Georgia stutters out of nowhere, nervous and not quite sure of the mechanics. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean…” She glances at you, then immediately looks away.

“What baby?” your brows furrow.

When you look down, taking stock of yourself, of your dripping wet t-shirt, your sprayed jeans, and the tiny puddle on the living room floor that would definitely need mopping. You nod and close your eyes, trying your hardest not to be pleased. “It’s okay, baby, that’s just squirt.” Your voice wobbles with amusement. “Georgia, it was very much intentional on my part,” you whisper and start the process of untying the suspension lines.

“Wait.” Georgia stares in disbelief as her thigh is slowly lowered back to the ground. “You… you can do that on purpose?”

“Yeah baby,” you knitted your brow together. “You want to try again later? Get you a snack, some water, put you in the bath first?”

Georgia’s expression is glittering, glowing, giddy, and pleased. It makes you feel pleased too. When Georgia has both legs back on the floor, curling and tucking up towards your chest as the rope is untied and takes off her shins, that’s when she finds her voice again.

“That sounds lovely baby.”

[sweetbans29]

Photograph - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin loves the way you capture her (based on THIS request)

Warnings: domestic life

Word Count: 3.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Ms. Queen of Domesticity is back.

There wasn't much you loved more than being behind a camera. Before starting on the Iowa media team, you would say there was nothing you loved more than being behind your camera but a certain girl was determined to change that.

Photography had always been a hobby for you - started in a middle school photography class and only grew from there. You had no idea that it would lead you to majoring in media when you got to college but thanks to a high school teacher, your dreams to pursue photography had become reality. Mr. Poole was in charge of the sports media team at your high school and saw your love for capturing the moment in a game. It wasn't just the love he saw in you, it was also in the work that you produced. You would always capture athletes in a way that humanized them - capturing the excitement and hard work that a person has put in to lead up to the exact time your shutter snaps. All the sports teams loved you, begging you to come to their games.

It was the portfolio you built and a highly regarded letter of recommendation that had you on a pretty nice scholarship to Iowa studying sports media. It had also led you to an internship and a job with your university's sports media team.

It was your freshman year where you were encouraged to apply to intern and by the end of your freshman year they were offering you a job.

Your sophomore year is when you met Caitlin. A smiley freshman who had the whole media team buzzing. You had photographed the women's basketball team when you were interning and knew them really well. If you were asked, you would say they were your favorite team to watch and capture and that didn't change when you met the freshman guard.

It was during the women's basketball season where you and Caitlin hit it off. You would notice she would always turn to you and give a little smile or make a funny face. You would capture the sweet girl in photos that would never see the light of day (not yet at least). Caitlin wasn't even sure you would snap a pic when she turned your way, mostly trying to get a reaction out of you. And she did, every single time.

It started about halfway through the season. Everyone aside from the players were required to wear masks (thanks Covid) but you didn't mind. You were one of two media team members in house to photograph the games. The second you caught the brown-haired girl turn to where you were you would capture her. You would then look up at her with a smile, hidden by your mask, and a shake of your head.

What you didn't know was that Caitlin would watch for the crinkle in your eyes signaling a smile on your lips. It would be the catalyst for the flutter in her heart and butterflies in her tummy.

After every game, she would come up to you asking for those photos. You would always act clueless.

"So, are you going to let me see them this time?" Caitlin asks. You can't help but smile at the way her baby hairs are going every which way. You bring your camera up to capture her in this imperfect moment, the moments you love the most.

"Hey!" She squeals as she flips her hair to redo it, soothing all the little strays.

"Cute," you say looking at the photo on your camera screen, you lean over to her and show it.

"That is not what I was talking about," Caitlin says with a little whine.

You hate when anyone whines but with Caitlin, it is quite adorable.

"I don't know what you are talking about," you say shutting your camera down.

"You know exactly what I am talking about," Caitlin says, eyes looking directly into yours. "The ones you take that make the corners of your eyes turn up and a pretty little smile graces yours lips underneath that mask."

You are shocked by her forwardness but don't let her get the best of you.

"Caitlin Clark," you say in all seriousness. "Are you using me for my photos?"

Caitlin laughs and you join her.

"I know you take them and I will get them out of you someday," Caitlin says.

"Sure Clark, someday," you say and are on your way.

Fast forward to the end of the season when you and Caitlin start hanging out. You were the one to ask the younger girl out but ever since, she has been the one to cling more. Usually the constant want and need for her to be with you would be overwhelming, but as your love for the girl grew, having her near you became more and more natural.

When you started dating, it was kept to the confines of your apartment or hers. It wasn't hard to do as Cait was quite the homebody and your never minded being the introverted girl you are. The two of you would spend hours curled up in your bed, wearing sweats and sweatshirts and talking about everything under the sun. It was a cold winter day during your junior year, her sophomore year when you being to talk about things that mean a little more.

You are at your apartment, Caitlin is cuddled up by your side when she goes quiet all of the sudden. You feel your girl play with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

"What's going through that pretty little head of yours," you ask as you kiss the top of her head. She nestles her face into your arm and shoulder, inhaling the scent of your freshly washed sweatshirt.

You giggle and bring your free hand to come up to brush your fingers through her soft hair. Her face pops up, resting her head on your shoulder, finger still playing with your sleeve.

"I want a big family," she says, almost as if she is scared to say it. "I want at least 2 kids, maybe three."

You don't say anything immediately which stresses the younger girl out. You can't help but smile.

"If we had two, we each could carry one. If we have a third, then we will need to figure out who will carry," you say as you wiggle your arm out from between you and Caitlin and wrap it around her bringing her closer to you. You hand comes to rub her back.

Her arm comes to snake around your waist, fingers no longer fidgeting.

"We could have four and each carry two. Then we would have one sub for our starting 5," she says.

"Would you really want us to be outnumbered by double?" You ask, unsure how you feel about 4 kids.

Caitlin thinks about it, "I guess it would depend on how the first three are. If they came out like you, I wouldn't mind having a fourth but if we have three little me's then we might want to consider stopping at two."

You laugh and can't help but squeeze your girlfriend.

"And I will be playing pro ball while you are on the media team for my team, keeping us together. Your portfolio is already good enough to be working professionally so you could go wherever I am drafted. And you could keep taking those those photos of me that you say you don't take," Caitlin says with a little smirk.

You pinch the back of her arm and she yelps.

"Now you are definitely not seeing any of those photos," you say. Caitlin rolls her eyes, like she was ever going to see them in the first place.

"Tell me more," you say loving hearing Caitlin talk about your future.

"We would find a house in a nice neighborhood where our kids can play in the yard. And we would have a a dog, maybe two," she says.

"I want a cat," you say and you can almost hear the facial expression Cait makes.

"If you get two dogs, I get a cat," you say.

"What about one dog and no cats?" Caitlin counters.

"No," you say standing firm on owning a cat. "I should really just get a cat now, that way it will already be apart of the family."

"You don't need a cat when you have me," Caitlin says. "I am basically like a cat. I nap and cuddle you and bug you when I want food."

You laugh at her.

"If you are like a cat, I don't get why you don't want one then," you say.

She shrugs and the two of you continue talking about what like will be like after college.

It is shortly after that conversation that you are chosen by the cat distribution system. You are home to a little black kitten who has consumed a majority of your time which has Caitlin frustrated. Your time that was once spent cuddling her was now you cuddling the little black feline. As the kitten began to grow, it was like he knew he was taking you away from Caitlin and would intentionally lay on your stomach when she was over. Caitlin would complain to you and you told her that no one could replace her as your cuddle buddy, but by the stares Meatball gave her (yes you named your cat Meatball), he knew that he had won.

That was when the two of you started hanging out at her place more often which opened the door to her teammates finding out the two of you were dating. It was shortly after that both of you told your parents.

Moving on to the end of your senior year, graduation was something you were ready for. You were done with school and ready to work. You were already set up to stay with Iowa's media team for another year, two at max depending on if Caitlin was going to do a fifth year or not. The plan was for you to stick around until Caitlin declares for the draft, you would then follow her.

Capturing Caitlin her senior year was the most fun you had photographing a sport. Yes, her being your girlfriend played a part in that but her dominate performance was something that had eyes turning her way from every corners of the world. As you capture her throughout her senior year, you are beyond glad you did. It was like every other night she was breaking a record or putting up a monstrous game. It made for amazing content.

It was on Valentines Day when Caitlin had told you that she was planning on declaring for the draft.

"I think I am ready," she says as the two of you are sitting on your living room floor eating dinner by candlelight.

Caitlin wanted to take you out to a fancy restaurant that would ultimately lead you back to one of your places at the end of the night but you opted for a night in. You loved times like this with Cait, just the two of you...and Meatball. Meatball was sitting on the couch, watching the two of you.

"You think?" You ask, having a pretty good idea of what she's talking about.

"I am ready," she says. You nod.

"I just don't know if I am ready to announce it yet," she says. "Announcing it makes it real."

"It does," you say. "And it is okay that you are not ready to announce it. It is all on your timing, no one else's." You lean over to grab her hand.

"I am here with you every step of the way," you say squeezing her hand. She gives you a thankful smile.

"Me and Meatball," you say as your cat extends its paw to touch Caitlin's head. You both laugh at your furbaby.

"Thanks Meatloaf," Caitlin says removing the cats paw from her.

"Meatball," you say rolling your eyes.

"Ya, whatever," Caitlin says.

"But seriously Cait, if you are ready, I am with you," you say not wanting to brush over one of the biggest decisions of Caitlin's career.

"I love you," she says and you smile at your girl.

"I know," you say and continue eating your dinner. Caitlin looks at you expecting you to say the same thing but you don't.

"Anything else you care to add?" Caitlin asks, lifting an eyebrow.

You just look at her with a smile and chew your food. You know it bugs Caitlin when you don't tell her you love her back even though she can see it in your eyes.

"Say it," Caitlin says.

"Say what?" You poke at her. Caitlin rises from her spot and makes her way over to you but your crawl away. She comes up behind you and lifts your up from your waist. You let out a squeal as Caitlin traps you.

"Say it," Caitlin says again. When you don't tell her you love her in what she believes is a suitable time, she begins attacking you with her fingers. Laughs fall from your mouth as you try to get her to stop. You lift your hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay okay," you say. "I surrender!"

Caitlin looks at you expecting to hear the three little words but you just wiggle out of her grip and run from her.

She follows you into the bedroom where you show her just how much you love her.

Over the course of the next few months, time flies. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes worked endlessly to get back to the championship. They do, falling short of the victory. It is literal days after that when you are on a plane to New York with Caitlin and a few of her teammates to go to watch her on SNL. It is days after that she is being drafted to Indiana.

You are now settled into your shared apartment working on your portfolio. You are finally going through the shots you got of the team during the championship. It is while you are scanning through thousands of photos when Caitlin comes back from practice, plopping down beside you.

You can tell she has something to talk to you about considering she can't sit still. You hit save then turn to look at your cute girl.

"Why hello there," you say with a smile.

"I have some exciting news," she says.

"And what is that?" You ask.

"I ran into the media manager of the Fever and one thing led to another and they want to see your portfolio," she says with an unmatched excitement.

You smile at her and lean in to give her a hug.

"Always looking out for me," you say into her.

"Always," she says proud of herself.

You went and met with the Fever media team and they had offered you the job on the spot. It was unexpected but after seeing the way you had captured Caitlin, they knew it was a no brainer.

You had started with the team the first official game of the season. Working for the Fever media team while Caitlin was playing for them was the exact dream that the two of you had talked about that one winter day.

It is halfway through the season when the league goes on Olympic break. It is only a few days in when you decide to drop a little photo dump of Caitlin from a recent game where she stole your camera and took some photos for herself. When you posted the dump, the comment section blew up with comments. A lot of them talking about how Caitlin always looks so cute in your photos, several of them talking about how you photograph Cait the best. Then there are a select few comments that end up blowing up and sending her fanbase down a spiral. It is the two comments that begin the exposure of your relationship.

"I think the world knows," you say as you laugh at some of the comments.

Caitlin comes up behind you looking over her shoulder. Her chin finds your shoulder as her arms snake around you. You hold your phone as you let her scroll through the comments.

"Surprised it hasn't blown up sooner," she says and you laugh.

"What do you mean by that?" You ask.

"I mean, if you look at any other photo someone takes of me it is nothing compared to how you capture me. It is like we are always in sync," she says proud of you.

"Ya, I guess that makes sense," you say. The comments are all cute and for both of yours relationship.

"I am like Spiderman and you are like Peter Parker," Cait says and you let out a hearty laugh. She continues, "You know what I mean. How Peter captures Spidey in all the right angles because he is Spidey. We are one and the same."

You laugh at your girls explanation and turn around to give her a kiss.

"That was a great connection there babe," you say and she smiles down at you.

It is not long after fans start digging up old Iowa photos that you took of Caitlin. Before you know it, the two of you are public with your relationship.

It is after Caitlin's rookie year that you finally decide to open up the treasure trove of photos you have of Caitlin looking at you through the camera. You make a post of how proud of her you are finishing up her first year in the W. You dig deep, all the way back to some of you first games capturing the Hawkeyes.

When Cait sees them, the first time is on her Instagram in a tagged post. Her eyes go wide as she yells your name in your apartment. She immediately goes to hunt you down and finds you giggling on the couch with Meatball napping on your lap.

"You didn't," she says staring at you with a playful grin.

"Oh but I did," you say matching her grin. She jumps on your earning a sprint and glare from Meatball.

"Show me more," she begs and you finally give in, showing her all of the photos you have of her looking at you with loving eyes.

AN: Okay but I am here for Meatball. Let me know what you think about this media reader. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT BIKER SIMON AND HIS ATTRACTION TO YOU.

cw: fluff, comfort, smut, established relationship, brief mention of simons past, coul be slightly ooc simon, unprotected sex, p in v, public sex (on motorcycle), creampie, kisses, mentions of posessive behavior, simon having a hard time to confess his love to you, that's all. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon's behavior comes down to how a black cat behaves next to a person he has taken a closer look at, he is as affectionate as a cat can be, whom miss fortune has been desperately avoiding all his life, but at the same time still going towards affection, in this case, to you, the one who gives it.

it is very easy to notice that he accepts care for him slowly, meekly, but in response he cannot squeeze out a word, he responds with actions, and to almost every “i love you, si„ there is not an expected confession, but a gesture that shows his affection wider than a few fleeting words.

if you needed to get somewhere quickly or leave somewhere, simon was right there, the motorcycle parked near the place where you were waiting, while both of his gloved hands held the second helmet, bought especially for you as soon as you started dating — with the aim of not only protecting you, but also carefully introducing you to part of his life, riding and fiddling with bikes.

you carefully extracted information from him about his life and hobbies, every time you drove together along the wide streets at high speed, your arms gently wrapped around his waist and clung to his leather jacket, he answered your every question willingly, with a gentle chesty growl, sometimes laughing hoarsely under his breath and teasing your desire to get to know him better

— “curious thing you are, darling„

and you always playfully pouted, resting your helmeted forehead against his back and lightly pinching him where your hands were placed on his waist, squeezing tightly so as not to slip away, and at the same time touchingly playfully attacking him through the fabric of his clothes with small pinches, to which he just laughed, listening to your mutterings

— “just wanna know you better, si.. you don't tell me anything„

and you’re right, he knows this, but his service in the task force and the nightmares he experienced forbade him to talk too much about himself or his feelings, the person hidden under the balaclava of the skull was considered forever dead and hiding in the shadows, and the absence of a photograph on his dossier in the army will be remembered there forever, but little by little there is less and less of that ghost of a man left, because you are definitely bringing back that side of him that he managed to bury.

simon gave flowers to someone for the first time in his life when your relationship just started, he didn’t even buy them for his own grave from which he fled, but he knew that he had to buy them for you, and the colorful fragrant petals became the beginning of your relationship, as bright as a lipstick mark on his bare cheek that day, and he would happily never wash it off, but you both know that you will put more and more of them, marking his whole face.

his affection is reflected in reverent touches, sometimes obsessive, every time you go out somewhere together, the heavy hand on the bottom of your back feels like a pleasant weight, with the care of which he later outlines your waist, holding you close to him not to control, but out of concern.

despite the fact that he is slightly unfamiliar with being so close to women, to signs of attention, you still notice that he is not afraid to take your hand in public, hug you, allow you to slightly lift his mask to kiss his lips or cheek, but it is even more tactile in the warmth of the walls of your home.

hugs from the back, arms exploring your body completely openly, small kisses on the back of your neck and face, he practically carries you around the house in his arms — all just for the urgent purpose of having you close, so that he can cuddle up to you and feel you close, while are you gently teasing him with the words — “aren't you clingy, si?„ but simon only grumbles and buries his nose in your chest while you carefully sorting the light strands of his hair, stroking.

but at a certain moment he breaks down, unexpressed feelings gather in an uncomfortable lump that worries simon, you are so affectionate for him, so beloved, but he cannot even answer a word of mutuality to you, he feels that he is not enough, feels helpless, and therefore solves everything with intimacy, squeezing your body in his arms carefully, gloves are hastily thrown off at the feet so that bare, rough, warm palms touch your soft skin, squeezing your hips and rising to your waist as you spread your legs for him, so lovely, leaning on his motorcycle.

your legs wrap around his waist, trembling slightly with each powerful thrust as your bodies press against his bike, balancing in a dangerous, uncomfortable position, elbows rubbing against the leather seat and the smooth surface of the bike, but it’s nothing compared to the heat in your body and the heaviness in bottom of your stomach.

simon's kisses are hot and demanding, his tongue sliding wetly into your mouth, muffling your moans and whimpers, the taste of his lips mixing with the overwhelming sensations rushing through your body as he greedily captures your mouth, his lips and tongue exploring every inch, making you to suffocate and at the same time desperately demand more.

he breaks the kiss, his completely darkened caramel eyes meet yours, silently ordering you to remain silent, before he nevertheless exhales into your wet and swollen lips, holding back his moans at the very edge

— “gonna be quiet for me, love, can't let anyone stop and go check from where all this pretty sounds go, yeah?„

and the need for discretion can't help but intensify the tension of the moment, igniting the thrill of the forbidden even more, causing you to hastily nod your head and moan into his open mouth as he again pushes his tongue to intertwine it with yours.

with each quick and desperate thrust, his cock plunges deeper into your sloppy cunt, allowing the wetness and heat to envelop his meaty cock all the way to his pelvic, as the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixing with the quiet whimpers escaping your lips despite your best efforts to remain silent and obey simon.

he can feel your orgasm approaching, telltale signs evident in your moan and the way your body trembles against his as simon's tongue explores your mouth with newfound eagerness, sucking on your tongue and eliciting muffled moans from your lips that he swallows.

with every deep thrust, his cock hits your spongy spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing the tight muscles of your cunt to clench around his girth, wet, squelching sounds filling the night air as simon's cock slips out slightly, but then pushes back into your tight, slick warmth, pushing you closer to the edge, making you practically scream, babbling

— “si, simon, hmnhrgh!! c-close, i'm close„

and then your hands slide with a slight creak from the surface of his motorcycle, and you instinctively reach out and grab his neck, your fingers curling, clinging to the back of simon's head, somewhere brushing the fabric of his leather jacket and the blond strands of his hair as you give in to the all consuming pleasure, falling completely silent.

every movement of his hips elicits a moan from your lips, your body eagerly responding to his primal dominance, all his feelings poured out into his erratic and rough thrusts as he strokes your waist carefully before pulling you close and straightening up, allowing you to be literally impaled on his girthy cock, muffling the loud sobs in his shoulder as he leans one hand into the seat of his motorcycle, white knuckled, and the other squeezes your thigh, impaling you again and again.

simon's hips snap with more force, driving himself deeper into your slobbering and throbbing cunt, he enjoys the way you clench around him in this new position, almost milking him, making his cock throb with every thrust into your slickness and squirm against your soft walls.

the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix sends a wave of pleasure through your body, coiling the tension in your belly tighter and tighter, and then it snaps, your walls clenching around him, milking him out as you reach your peak, practically biting down on his shoulder from the intensity of the feelings rolling in like a wave of heat.

your slick fluids and cum coat his cock, further lubricating the already slippery rhythm between you, the pulsing, gripping sensation driving him over the edge, his sighs and moans mixing with your incoherent mutterings, and you sing almost in unison about your feelings for each other

— “si, si, fuck!! aahn, l-love you, si, i love you„

— “i know, sweet girl, i know, mngh! f-fuck, love ya too, i love ya too„

his cock throbs inside your walls as he releases his hot cum, filling you up with his potent seed, painting you inside with his milky release and letting it drip down from your clenching cunt, coating his messy, wet from both your liquids cock and down his balls, somewhere there on the ground are still his gloves, on which white drops of your vulgar encounter now falling, the shared release creates a raw, intimate connection between you, the words he has kept for so long fall from his lips incessantly, and he whispers them in your ear, covering the side of your face with hurried, warm kisses.

he doesn’t care about the gloves, he doesn’t care about the roar of cars passing in the distance, which can turn here at any moment, the only thing that worries him is your warm body in his hands and the confessions that he can’t stop whispering to you, he kept them inside himself for so long, and finally gave them a path to the surface, and you will remember this for a long, long time, but for now, let simon take care of you and bring you two back home.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 3 - Meeting Kyle For Coffee

This is not in chronological order but I needed for this to get out of my head. Takes place after the end of Charlie's Charmed!Slasher!Simon series.

(If you don't want to read it, in the end, Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!)

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Kyle Garrick is just as unreasonably pretty as he ever was, sitting in the cafe and drinking something hot. He’s a bit leaner in the face than you remember from high school. His jaw is sharper, but his smile is still so inviting.

When he spots you coming, his smile seems to light up the whole room.

You say, “Thank you, for agreeing to meet with me. Give me just a minute to order?”

“I ordered you a caramel latte,” he says with a smile. “You still like them?”

“Yeah, I do,” you admit, and sit down.

“I asked them not to start making it until you got here,” he says, taking another sip of his drink. “Figured you’d appreciate it being made fresh. All things considered.”

You blow out a breath and lean back in your chair. “That’s… actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I figured,” he says with a grin. “We haven’t talked since just after graduation. We do each other a favor, then say our sad goodbyes. And years later, out of the blue you hit me up? Looking for another favor. Could break a man’s heart.”

You bite your lip and look at the smiling man across from you. A barista appears at your elbow with an almost overfull mug and places it gently on the table. She gives Kyle a grin before flouncing away.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his own mug in a gentle salute. He waits until you’ve taken a sip to continue. “So, how big is he?”

“What?” When you look up at him, he’s still smiling. His face hasn’t changed. But his brown eyes are flat and empty. Your heart beats just a bit faster.

“How big is he? I don’t do things the way I used to. I need to know so I can make it look like an accident.”

The last time Kyle did you a favor, the coroner had not ruled it an accident. No one had ever been accused of or charged with the death of David Toole-Kirk. But that amount of thallium doesn’t eat a person from the inside out on accident.

“I… um. I didn’t ask you here for that kind of favor,” you say. Your hands are burning where they’re wrapped around your mug. You feel like if you take them off, you’ll freeze under his stare. “I was hoping that you could… give me some advice?”

That brings genuine mirth to Kyle’s eyes. “Oh, this aught to be good.”

“I just… there is a guy,” you say. “Just… Do you… still go… hunting?”

Kyle grins and sits back in his chair. “Hunting?”

“Please answer the question,” you groan.

His grin is wide. His teeth are perfect. “No, can’t say that I do. Bit more of the gardening type now, in my old age.”

“We’re not even thirty,” you say, dumbly.

“This guy you know,” he prompts, barely keeping back laughter. “He likes to… go hunting, then?”

“He’s a pretty avid… hunter,” you say, carefully. “But I was hoping that I might be able to help him find another… hobby?”

Kyle Garrick looks almost ready to burst at the seams with the laughter he’s holding in. If you hadn’t had such a recent and thorough reminder not to get complacent with predators, you might have swatted at him. As it is, you can only clench your jaw as you watch him try and fail to keep a straight face.

“I know,” you hiss, “I know.”

“You really, really don’t,” Kyle wheezes. “Oh my god.”

“He says he doesn’t want to hurt me,” you say, looking around nervously. “But he’s taken me hunting twice, and I can’t do that again.”

That’s what breaks him. He bursts into peals of laughter, peppered with “he’s taken you,”s and “oh my days,”s that fill the whole cafe. It shocks you into giggles.

“Will you quit it!” You eventually whisper-shout.

“How did you manage to meet two of us?” Kyle wipes tears from his eyes. “My word. He’s taken you on hunting trips, and now you want to find him a new hobby.”

“Please,” you hiss. “I’m a little bit desperate and a lot at the end of my rope, here.”

And then Simon Riley’s voice says, right behind you, “Garrick.”

You’re a little bit grateful that Simon’s hands wrap around your wrists from above at the same moment, because otherwise you’d have thrown your coffee in the air. His sternum presses against the crown of your head. You tip your head, just a bit, rolling your eyes up to see him. He’s not looking at you. He’s staring at Kyle.

Kyle grins. “Riley. Good to see you, mate. How’s the family?”

“Still dead, you muppet,” Simon says, pulling out the chair next to you and settling in. When you eye him, he’s got that not-quite-blank look that means he might be thinking about smiling. “How do you know my girl?”

“Went to secondary together,” Kyle says with a grin. “She was bloody terrible at chemistry. Luckily, we got paired up. I helped her with a personal project before she went off to uni. It’s been years. Was pleasantly surprised when she reached out.”

“You’re online?” Simon asks, disdainfully.

“Calls more attention not to be,” Kyle points out.

“Told you,” you can’t help but mumble into your drink.

Simon gives a considering hum and his usual answer. “Technically, I’m dead.” To Kyle he says, not bothering to lower his voice. “If you meet up with her without my permission again, I’ll kill you slow.”

You gape at him, and, daringly, slap his shoulder. “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with.”

He leans in to kiss your forehead. “Sure, sweetheart.”

[coca-lastic]

Character: Hawks (Takami Keigo)

Warning: sugestive temes all the time, bites, reader Is not a hero, dom!reader

Hawks would have no shame in showing how much he loves you. He can't do it so openly because of his job, but if he didn't have to keep up a constant facade he'd probably walk the streets with lipstick marks and bite marks, it's not like you'd complain about creating that image.

But that is not possible, unfortunately. But it's not all bad either, you can brag that you have that whole view to yourself, you can mark it and then watch it like an artist after creating his best work, one that he is proud of and loves.

But the process, oh the process, hearing the little noises of pleasure, tickling or just happiness that come out of his mouth.

Yeah, you want to do that, after a while without doing it, without doing your works, you want to jump into your man's arms and attack him with your brush of lust and possessiveness.

And when you hear the door open you know it's time to start.

"I'm at home Dove" You hear from his mouth with a casancio tone.

You approach the entrance to see him take off his hero suit, leaving himself only in his wide, comfortable pants, thus exposing your blank page to you.

"Hey handsome, how was work?"

"Shit. All damn day there were stupid villians who don't even know how to do their job well, they just come out of nowhere to attack hoping that we'll come to the fucking rescue one more time and try to beat them as if they weren't so weak that even you could beat them up." "He said, dropping onto your shoulder and burying his face between your neck and jaw, now smiling at the harmless insult.

"hey! Asshole" you lightly hit the back of his head following the joke and pretending to be offended. All with a purpose. "You say it as if I couldn't bring you to your knees."

"Oh, really?" He poked his head out of her previous position, with a now mischievous smile. "Show me".

Is so easy. The thing is that you are happy to mark it and paint it to your liking but he is more than happy to be your canvas.

So he doesn't object when you take him to the living room couch, sit on top of him and look at him with sweet eyes and a happy smile. And he returns the same gesture, because it is more than a simple desperation to share a moment with honeyed caresses, or for what he may come next. It's the simple fact of valuing the moment.

That is exactly the reason why your lips run to his in a soft but long kiss, making you start your work now.

You lightly bite his lower lip and return to his lips a few more times, drinking in the taste of him like your favorite nectar.

Then, you decides to lower your lips to a place on his strong body, a little lower, on his marked jaw.

You leave bites and wet kisses, just so that the sensation of your actions last longer on his skin,

Then you manage to go down a little. right on his neck and the different areas of his, just when you bury your face in the area you manage to hear a hoarse laugh from the man below you and you feel how he moves his head to the side to give you accessibility.

"U looked so cute biting me and marking me like that" and you couldn't say anything else about him because the image of him with red cheeks and teeth crushing his lip was too attractive for him to want to talk.

You continued your work paying close attention to the sounds. Light "fuck" and "ohh~" could be heard every few seconds, the heavy breathing and gasping was even more constant. And it just motivates you to keep going and going.

You brought your hand to his hair, pulling it and then kneading it. While now your lips were on his collarbone and shoulders, looking for the points that pleased him the most.

"Oh god- ahh" "that tickl- wai- ugh" "right there...hmm"

Yeaaah, you loved him, it was your hobby to just ruin him.

And how beautiful it is to finish your work and see your man with bites everywhere.

On the neck, on the jaw, on the lips, on the shoulders, on the collarbone, on the pectorals and any area where you felt it would look perfect.

His hair was disheveled, his eyes moist and looking straight into yours, lips half open, hands clinging to your thighs and legs tense with an ache between them.

"And then you insult my strength when with just a few bites I can have you like this" you mocked, reaching for his lips again.

"Fuck you, but if you want I'll do it for you"

"I would be delighted, but I would like to remain the strong one today..."

Today you two would have a very very very long night.

Yei!