#seriously fluff

[winterbuckwild]

New Fic!

Based on this post, part 1 now up! READ ON Ao3 HERE

Title: I Can Be Flexible

Rating Mature (eventually)

Pretty much nothing hurts (except Eddies back) pure fluff. Streamer/Youtuber AU.

Eddie groaned as he switched the camera off, stretching his leg out from where it had been folded on the seat under him. He shook his foot pathetically as the fuzzy pins and needles feeling took over his lower leg.

That was the issue when he really got into the game he was streaming; he crunched himself up on his expensive ergonomic gaming chair, completely nulling any actual orthopaedic benefits that had sounded so good at the time. No more back pain, no more cricked neck, no more knee aches.

Lies.

When the feeling returned to his foot enough for him limp out of the box room he used as an "office" he beelined for the kitchen and narrowly held back the urge just to stick his head under the faucet and let the cold water deal with his dehydration and blood shot eyes from the outside. He grabbed a semi clean glass from the side instead and congratulated himself a little as he downed two glasses in quick succession and refilled a third time, scrubbing at the back of his sore, stiff neck.

He carried his water, a tube of Pringles and the leftover pizza from lunch to the worn, dipped couch pushed to one end of his small living area and lowered himself down with a sigh, propping his legs up on the beanbag he used mostly as a footstool.

He was pretty sure at twenty seven he shouldn't be aching so damned much but here he was, knees cracking and jaw clicking as he shifted to find a semi comfortable position. He'd spent four hours on live, alternating between crunched up in his chair and half hanging out of it and he definitely hadn't been thinking at the time about how much he was going to be paying for it afterwards.

He shook two painkillers out of the bottle by the side of the couch, downing half the glass again before shoving a piece of pizza in his mouth before the pills could make his stomach hurt again.

It took four slices before he felt human again, the water and the food with the painkillers making him sleepy and soft. After the cacophony of the game he'd been playing, the silence of the apartment emphasised the faint ringing in his ears that he only noticed when all the other noise stopped.

He nodded off a few minutes later within head tipped back against the couch cushion.

**

Steve knew that it was the review of the computer game that he should be watching; after all that was the reason that Dustin had shoved his phone in Steve's face to begin with. He'd been on another rant, trying to convince Steve that the game was absolutely suitable for Nancy and Jonathan's young son (it wasn't) “It hardly has any decapitation in it Steve, look!”

Look he did, but Steve was completely distracted from the actual game part of the video by the very pretty man in the thumbnail off to the side who was playing said game and gesturing enthusiastically every time he had a second to take his hands off the controller.

Even more distracting was that he had his foot propped up on the chair, arm hooked lazily around it as he leaned forwards in concentration. His whole upper body looked like it screamed discomfort, and Steve's shoulder blades throbbed in sympathy.

"Does he know how bad for his back that is?" he commented, feeling older and older with every word that left his mouth. "If he's not walking like he shit himself when he gets off that chair, it will be a miracle."

"What about the game, Steve?" Dustin sounded exasperated and just a little bitchy.

"Nancy will hit the roof, and not in a good way." Steve mentally noted the gamers handle and handed Dustin back his phone. "Time for a present rethink."

Henderson tried one final time to get Steve on side and convince him of the games suitability but gave up at the thought of Nancy's displeasure which was clearly much scarier than Steve's. They finished up lunch and left the café hugging tightly before going their separate ways.

It was only a short walk home, the autumn air crisp and clean as it actually got in the city. He really was going to go straight up to his apartment above the little gym that he owned and ran, but he detoured to walk the floor instead.

Robin glared at him from where she was manning the reception desk.

"What are you doing here, Dingus?" She glared harder "you do know the place won't explode if you take an afternoon off? I'm starting to feel like you don't trust me."

Steve held his hands out in a placating gesture and slipped past the reception area.

He made his way around the counter, deliberately avoiding the main floor. Didn't even look at it. He knew what was good for him. "I thought of a thing, I'm not even here, I promise." She gave him a look, clearly nor believing a word until he slipped into the back room.

It was meant to be a small one on one yoga studio, or at least that's what he designed it as when the builders were talking specs but it was rarely used as such. He usually used it for filming so his camera setup was mostly a permanent fixture from where he filmed his videos for his fitness channel.

When his own YouTube channel gained some followers that weren’t friends being supportive, he’d started putting out videos semi-regularly from his apartment while he was waiting for the gym space below it to be finished. He gained followers slowly but surely until he’d had Robin film one of flexibility workouts (where he had ditched his shirt about a quarter of the way in) to track his progress and she had sneakily given it a sound track and posted it. He’d been mad for all of five minutes before the thirst trap had worked and his follower count had skyrocketed.

After the gym had been finished he started just using the smaller room for full body shots and movements (god damn it, Robin, not every video requires abs) since there was more room than in his little apartment. He was a tall guy and he needed the space if he didn't want to smack something important on something immovable.

Since the gym wasn't exactly advertised leaning towards the yoga crowd the room didn't really see a lot of use even though most of his videos centred mainly on stretching and flexibility these days and he plugged the gym fairly regularly.

Steve stretched out a little before he settled down in front of the tripod, phone in place and pointed at the right angle. He didn't feel the need for pricey cameras or super complicated lighting when the overheads at the gym could go brighter than the sun when he wanted them to, but having to not dick around with tripod angles was always welcome when he had something stuck in his brain.

His thoughts had never quite left the beautiful, enthusiastic streamer from Dustin's phone and the pretzel shape that he'd contorted himself into on his gaming chair. Steve clicked the little Bluetooth button and smiled winningly at the camera, getting his usual intro done on auto pilot.

"If you are like this fine gentleman here and get into your game or work a bit too much, I'm going to show you how to mitigate some of the damage and hopefully make your back and neck feel a bit better after a long session." The tracking pod that his phone rested on moved with him as he sat gracefully on the floor, legs held wide to stretch out his hamstrings. He mimed leaning against a chair for the beginners poses and then gradually sunk lower until his chest nearly hit the floor and he could grab at his bare feet, explaining all the while about the stretch and how it released the lower back.

He shot through a twist, grabbing a firm bolster cushion to rest his upper body on while his hips twisted the other way, and then the more advanced version of the pose, and then twisted so that he was laying on his back with the bolster snugged up under his shoulder blades with his neck supported and his arms out to the side. He suppressed a groan of pleasure as he talked, his voice getting a little breathy as his own back stretched, courtesy of the truly horrible café chairs he'd been forced into for the afternoon.

"And to finish off if you have a bit of trouble sleeping, try some legs on the wall from my last video for ten to fifteen minutes, I'll link that in the description below. It'll help lower your cortisol levels and set you up for a good night." Steve smiled again at the camera feeling a little lighter than before now that his brain worm of an idea was fully formed and done. He did his usual outro and added a little extra that he hoped no one would notice was aimed at the pretty gamer. "Hope you feel better, sleep well."

[kiwanopie]

Sakusa just looks like he falls asleep with his big ass hand on ur tit. It’s not even sexual at this point he just does it cause he can. As soon as he scoots in behind you to get himself comfortable the first thing he does is slide his hand up ur shirt and grabs a handful before belting himself to your back and clocking out a second later. And it’s not even limited to the bedroom, sometimes he’ll just be on the phone and see you standing in the kitchen making a snack and you’ll just feel the bottom of your shirt lift a little before his fingers are dipping under the cup of ur bra. The guy isn’t even necessarily a tit man, he just does it because you’re his

[rissouu]

plug!eren who loves music so much that every time he fucks you he just has to blast his playlist. like right now, peso by a$ap rocky was the only thing that could be heard in the room, along with your soft moans and his grunts. “f-fuck mama. you gotta let daddy in here baby, ease up.” the brown haired man let his hands roam towards your tummy— gently gripping the slight pudge you had. “mm..m please ren… no more! ‘ts too much,” your free hand came up to his stomach in attempt to push the man away, but there was only so much you could do before he slapped it away. “quit tryna’ make me stop.. i hope you know i’m nuttin’ in this shit too-“ you let out a unfamiliar sound at his words, it wasn’t a moan— more like a whine. even though you tried to hide it, it didn’t take long for eren to catch on.. the way your sweet pussy clenched around him even tighter when he threatened to cum in you said it all. “you like that? want daddy to fill this pretty pussy up, give you my all babies huh?” his vulgar words only egged you on more.. and you surely found yourself liking the thought of carrying his children.. (probably more than you should’ve). “awn s..shit! please pa, wan’ you to cum in me s’bad.” you started babbling, feeling a familiar pit rising in your stomach. eren knew you were too fucked out to even realize what you were saying— what you were agreeing to. but oh well, you’d look cute with your tummy swollen (especially if it was because of him). “i got you my pretty girl.. we gon’ have some beautiful babies.”

[apoorhuman]

Mc: don't you just hate the fact that you already graduated and finished school, have a good and decent job, but suddenly you got sucked into hell and forced to go to school with most of the subjects you never even learned in your FUCKING ENTIRE LIFE?!

Lucifer: mc, we said we're sorry

Mc: I AM NOT GOING TO JUST LET MYSELF GET YELLED BY YOU JUST BECAUSE I CAN'T GET GOOD FUCKING GRADE IN A SUBJECT CALLED "BASIC STANDARD MAGIC"

Belphegor and Satan watching from afar: *snickers*

[messrmoonyy]

-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

[ghost-proofbaby]

fictional boyfriends (e.m.)

summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.

warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.

wc: 2.5k+

a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink

It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.

Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.” 

Until that damn game.

When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections. 

“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle. 

“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“

“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”

For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now. 

“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“

“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”

You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.

More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention. 

“Fine.” 

The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.

He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.

“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not. 

“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?” 

“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”

“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”

“Well that makes one of us.” 

Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”

He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration. 

Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t. 

You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“

“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.” 

He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.

“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you. 

He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.

Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend. 

“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“

He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.

You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?” 

You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized. 

God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.

“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.” 

He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not.  You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.

“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”  

His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.

“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.

You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight. 

And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.

You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game. 

“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.” 

If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation. 

But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat. 

Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.

When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.

He bites.

Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.

You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?

If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.

He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture. 

Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of. 

“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault. 

He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent. 

Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of. 

“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it. 

“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.” 

Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.” 

He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”

“I do not-”

He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point. 

“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.” 

You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.” 

“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”

“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.” 

His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.

“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.” 

Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.

He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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[artofalassa]

Whenever I'm alone with you You make me feel like I am whole again Whenever I'm alone with you You make me feel like I am young again

[truetogaia]

PLS PLS PLS make a short story about a sick fem reader who didn’t tell ghost they weren’t feeling well and then he goes to see them after deployment and notices their sick and gets all worried about them?!?!?!?!?!? Because it’s so hot when MEN TAKE CARE OF ME BRUH

"Pamper my princess" Ghost x fem!reader

genre ✩ fluff n some implied steam !

-

His hands are warm as they caress your head, gently stroking your hair as you chug the water he gave you to chase your coughing medicine with. All day he's been pestering you with soups and pills and medicines despite your constant fussing and reassurances that you're fine. You haven’t left his sight since he came home from a six day mission to find you almost knocked out and so sick. But you could complain less, having been wrapped up in his strong arms almost all evening in his attempts to keep you warm.

You’re cuddled up on the couch under several thick blankets, finally having moved from the bed which you have been bound to for the last four days without his help. Your hand trembles slightly when you put the glass of water on the little table in front of you, laying your heavy head back against Ghost's firm, sweater clad chest. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” His voice is laced with worry, thick eyebrows furrowing as he stops stroking your hair for a second. You look up at him, snuggling closer to hide the blush creeping up your face. Your voice is weak and raspy as you speak, vocal chords swollen and worn out from your sickness. 

“Didn’t w’nna worry you y’know? I know you’ve been strugglin’ with work ‘n all.. I didn’t w’nna put ‘ny extr-” Ghost placed his large palm over your mouth, frowning at your exhausted mumbling.

“Why would you think like that? You know I always have time for you. Fuck, you always have me so worried baby, why didn’t you call me? You could’ve- no, should've, called me. Texted me, even sent someone to tell me.” he rambles, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders and pulling you in closer to him, trying to heat you up.“You have a raging fever and a severe cough and you think it's a good idea to keep it from me? Stupid girl.” 

“Sorry ‘Mon..” One of his hands goes back to stroking your hair again as he places a kiss on your head. 

“It better not happen again, I can’t have you keeping such important things from me. I was away, thinking you were completely healthy and safe at home, but when I return I find my girl all pale and ill.” His tone is gentle and caring, though he shakes his head disapprovingly as you peek up at him with dazed and half-lidded eyes.

But his face suddenly heats up as your eyes meet his. He shifts in his seat, adjusting his position several times before carefully letting go of you and getting up, despite your whined protests.

“Sorry baby, I jus’.. I have t’ go t’ the bathroom, I gotta fix s’mthin’.. I'll be back in a moment..” He mumbles before walking away to your bedroom and closing the door. Your eyes follow him, puzzled as to why he went in there, because you don’t remember ever having a bathroom connected to your bedroom. 

note: eek im so nervous about this one, I haven't done requests in a looong time and i completely forgot how frightening it is. I hope you liked it, or at least didn't hate it!! x ♡

[laiiaaa]

i really love how it’s canon that Carmy’s never had a girlfriend and is a certified loser, yet in every fic he eats pussy like a champ. worships it, lives off of it, couldn’t function without it. ravishes it like a man starved yet savors every drop. eats it more than he eats real food. that’s just Carmy idk. i love that man. keep it up.

[swiftmitsu]

can you do killer x y/n?

of course i can. and ill do it happily. :))

no i didnt squeal when i saw this. you're hearing things

have sleepy killer and y/n

tired after a long day, now theyre relaxing and sleeping together<3

[chaosduckies]

*Throws this and runs away*

Cringe but free

No but seriously I love these two so much. I might color this later, but who knows? Enjoy these two lovelies in the meantime

[wooahaes]

on repeat

pairing: non-idol!dk x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 12/13

word count: ~7.0k

warnings: mentions of food. time loop au. some angst concerning not having a soulmate. also mentioned angst for other member (hao).

daisy’s notes: i feel like this one could have been longer but i didnt want it to get Too long compared to the other fics, yknow?

summary: What started as a day of making deliveries ended in Seokmin waking up on the same day. And then again, and then again… So, wherever you are, he needs to find you if he wants to see Saturday again.

Seokmin had been living his life on schedule ever since he turned ten. Before that, truly, because his parents had always set something for him (school, play, dinner, bath time, bedtime), but he knew that it became a little different after he turned ten. He had doctors appointments configured into that schedule, and every appointment had his dad holding his hand as the doctor tried yet again to work out what Seokmin's sign could be. Some of them would always be subtle and hard to detect, but there were plenty of things they could figure out.

And then when that list was exhausted, the afternoon doctor's appointments turned into Wednesday afternoon appointments with Dr. Jeon. She'd spoken to Seokmin for their first appointment with his mother sitting next to him, gauging how he truly felt about the fact he might not have a soulmate. He didn't tell her at first that it hurt to be different. Not with his mother next to him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. He needed to smile for his mom, to be the bubbly boy she knew and loved.

Wednesday afternoon, Seokmin went back alone starting with that second visit. "My classmates made fun of me again for not having a soulmate."

Dr. Jeon had adjusted her bright pink glasses, and frowned at him. "How do you feel about that?"

That they're right, so it shouldn't hurt to hear the truth. "Bad." He'd curled into himself a little more, tugging his jacket closer to himself. Maybe he could disappear if he tried. "I can't help it."

Dr. Jeon's room was lit only by lamps and whatever light made it through the blinds and curtains. She hated the overhead lights (they buzzed loudly and she could never hear herself think, she said), and Seokmin never minded that they were off. The orange glow made things feel oddly safer. So did the fake sunflowers on her desk, tucked away behind her behemoth of a computer (Dr. Jeon said she could never keep them alive if they were real). As much as he wanted to disappear, he felt safe here. Dr. Jeon wasn't his mom. He didn't have to pretend for Dr. Jeon.

"I wish I had a soulmate," his voice was quieter that time. "Some of my classmates think something's wrong with me. That..."

She looked up from where she's been jotting something down. "That?" She prodded in that inquisitive way she did last time they spoke alone for a few minutes, and Seokmin knew he couldn't drop it without feeling guilty. "It's okay, Seokmin. You can take all the time you need."

He didn't meet her gaze. "They think that I'm never gonna be loved."

Dr. Jeon frowned again at his words. "Do your parents love you?"

His head shot up. "Yes! Of course they love me!"

"Do your friends?"

He nodded furiously. "And—And I love my friends. But what does that have to do with my soulmate?"

Dr. Jeon shook her head. "Love comes in many forms, Seokmin. A soulmate's love isn't guaranteed to be romantic, but even if it was, you aren't guaranteed to be with your soulmate. Love takes effort. My husband is a relationship counselor," she twisted her wedding ring around her finger, "and he sees plenty of couples who assume being soulmates is the only thing they need to make it work."

"But..." He furrowed his brow. "I thought soulmates were forever."

"They can be." Dr. Jeon paused. "You're so young, Seokmin, but you'll understand one day. A soulmate represents the possibility of that love, not the only existence of it." She chuckled. "Besides... You're too young to worry about romantic love. But for now, we can work on acceptance."

Acceptance...?

"Whether you have a soulmate or not, Seokmin," she said, the big beads of her earrings clinking together as she set aside her pad of notes, "you're still a person capable of loving others and being loved. It's hard for kids your age to separate out love like this, but you'll realize it as you grow up. There is nothing wrong with not having a soulmate."

Seokmin hadn't been able to accept her words for a while. Every day, he saw something new in the world about soulmates. A new drama based around them, or a new discount to those who can prove they're with their soulmate, or a new magazine with childish quizzes that pretend to predict your soulmate's traits. Every Wednesday, he found himself back on that plush couch and talking about something new. A new thing he's eliminated. Another classmate discovered their sign. News of an intern at his dad's work that found his soulmate (this one Seokmin wasn't supposed to hear). And every week, he left Dr. Jeon's sessions with those words said at the end:

There was nothing wrong with not having a soulmate... So why did Seokmin want one so badly?

Seokmin grew up. He started college, and he met Minghao through it. Eventually his routine changed as he began to balance work and school and a social life, all while living in a cozy little apartment with Minghao. Make breakfast, go to class, go to work, find time to shove food into his face, deal with more customers... It became a schedule he pretty much lived by with his social life a little less present. He'd get it back one day, hopefully. But he always made time for dinner with Minghao on Friday nights: their one day a week where they’ve completely slowed down together.

Minghao seemed more tired this week. "I'm tired of blue."

Seokmin looked up from his dinner. "Which blue?"

"Calm blue. Not sad. They're fine, wherever they are, and I should be glad for it, but I'm not." Minghao scowled.

Seokmin frowned as he watched Minghao. Their vision is filled with red now, he wanted to say. Are you okay with that? But he didn't, instead reaching out to ruffle his hair. "It'll be okay," he said. "At least they're calm now."

Minghao said nothing. He just sat there, staring, brows drawing together more and more.

"What?"

"It's darker."

His soulmate was upset by something. Seokmin averted his gaze. He kept his thoughts to himself. No doubt Minghao already had them himself: his frustration upset his soulmate. He couldn't help but wonder if that was the kind of person Minghao's soulmate was: someone who empathized even though they had no idea where their own soulmate's feelings were coming from. No doubt their vision would be clouded by those same blues. Minghao could be sharp-tongued and snarky at times, but he wasn't a monster. He worried for them whenever his vision was lit up with fiery reds and deep blues and nauseating green.

"I used to be angry, too, you know." Seokmin kept his focus on his own dinner now. "That I don't have one."

"You know I don't believe that." Minghao had always been one of the ones who, for some reason, believed Seokmin did have a soulmate. His sign just wasn't one of the obvious ones like his or Seungkwan's. But Minghao was reasonable about it, too: Seokmin was the kind of person who could forge his own soulmate if things felt right enough.

Seokmin waved it off. "But I understand being angry. It's something outside of your control, and it's hard to let that... be."

Humans, in Seokmin's experience, liked having control over themselves. He saw it in himself as a child, always wanting to have some choice in what he wore, in the foods he ate. He saw it now, too, in children when he went shopping and saw patient mothers holding up two options for their child to pick from. But he always saw it the most with his friends. The frustration that etched itself into Minghao's brows whenever the colors changed, the subtle annoyance before his thanks when someone pushed Seungcheol toward the right object, the way Seungkwan would flinch from pain sometime and wave off any concern. All things that stemmed from depending entirely upon another person in one way or another. And Seokmin felt it, too, in not having. A soulmate was never a guarantee to have love in your life, after all. Yet Seokmin didn't get to choose whether he would want this person at all. Would he? If he had a soulmate, would he fall for them? He had plenty of love in his heart to give... but would they even want it from him, too?

"You're right," Minghao's voice was softer now. "I think... I want to meet them someday."

Seokmin smiled. "I think you should."

“I’m scared they’ll hate me.” Minghao let out a sigh, staring down at his food for a moment. “So what if they do?”

“Then you’ll figure it out.” Seokmin reached across the table, squeezing Minghao’s hand gently. “If they’re your soulmate… Then they’ll try to understand you. You’ll do the same, right?”

Minghao met his gaze, but said nothing. Today wasn’t a day that he could agree with Seokmin, already too inside his own head. In time, he’d accept it: Seokmin knew he would. He just needed time, and Seokmin was more than happy to give him that and whatever space he needed. He could believe in Minghao’s soulmate enough for the both of them. 

And the day he met them face to face, Seokmin knew he’d been right: Minghao’s soulmate was patient in the way he needed them to be. Understanding, too, without any hidden malice toward him. Exactly what Minghao needed.

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Not everyone was able to make it, of course. It was horribly last minute, but Seokmin figured it had to be important since it was. A few people had their reasons to not be there (work, other things that needed doing). Seokmin, on the other hand, was free from his usual job. All he had was the option to make some deliveries for extra money, and he'd probably spend the day doing that to get some exercise in. He rolled out of bed, got ready for the day, and stepped out of his bedroom to see where Minghao was asleep on the couch. Seokmin paused, brows drawing together until he saw that he was clutching his phone still. Ah. He must have come back late last night and fell asleep while on the phone with his soulmate as they made their way home. Seokmin left him with a blanket draped over him before he headed out for the day. Maybe next time, Minghao would end up asleep in his own room.

He checked the app while waiting for the elevator. Sure enough, there were already delivery orders made. Groceries (he only ever accepted the small orders), food deliveries, flowers... Seokmin scrolled through for the closest pickup to start. He wouldn't mind the long ride to wherever he was delivering to, but there was a flower shop just down the street that Seokmin always loved making deliveries for. Flowers made people happy, after all. One popped up from someone named Minho for someone named Jinki ("a 'thank you' gift for my hyung"), and Seokmin accepted it without another thought. Soon enough he'd taken the elevator down and set out for the day, pedaling his way to the flower shop.

Jinki had been caught off-guard when Seokmin showed up to his workplace with a vase of sunflowers he'd protected with his life. He passed the message onto the man, and made his way out for the next delivery, bumping into an intern on his way out. He'd apologized to her quickly, and started out for another delivery. A grocery delivery for a single dad who was taking care of a sick kid, another run to a store for cat food for a man who'd run low and couldn't leave his apartment easily with a broken leg, a lunch delivery for a young woman at work... Seokmin went about his day like any other, always greeting people with a smile before moving onto the next thing. By the end of the day, he was exhausted, and immediately went to Jun's restaurant to rest.

Jun wordlessly set a cup of water in front of him. "Push these tables together after you wipe them down," he said. "Cheol will be here soon."

Seokmin had waved him off after agreeing, just enjoying a few minutes of downtime. It wasn't even his job—Where the hell was Mingyu?—but Seungcheol had insisted that it was important. He didn't mind helping out if it made things move a little smoother. He made his way to the back to grab the things he needed, and put himself back to work. The tables were wiped down thoroughly, and Seokmin pushed them together before straightening up. The next time the door chimed, Seungcheol had come in with the brightest smile on his face that Seokmin had ever seen.

"What happened?" He asked, pushing a final chair into place. "Minghao texted to say his soulmate had something come up. I'll let him know the good news tonight, okay?"

Seungcheol made his way over, shedding the light jacket he was wearing. "I should wait until the others get here, but..." He paused, and then shook his head. "No—I'll wait. It's important."

Seokmin stood still for a moment, mind already thrumming with possibilities. "It is good news... Right?"

He nodded. "It's..." His gaze softened a little as his smile fell a little. His happiness was still warm and welcoming, but now felt akin to the tenderness of a warm embrace than the crackling fire it had been before. "It's really good news, Seokmin."

The possibilities dwindled by tens and hundreds. No bad news... Which meant this had to be big. A promotion, or maybe he finally heard back from the graduate program he was trying to get into? Seokmin drummed his fingers along the chair he'd been clutching, before tearing him away from it. People began to file in over the next twenty minutes: Jeonghan and Joshua arriving together, Mingyu bursting into the room loudly (yes, Jun, he saw the restaurant was empty—and yes, he enjoyed resting after work) with Soonyoung coming in just a few minutes later, and eventually Vernon and Chan had joined the table while bemoaning a late bus. Mingyu helped Jun serve food as they caught up on life.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan called out from the other end of the table, a knowing look on his face. “You wanted to tell them something.”

Seungcheol fought back a smile. “I found them.” 

Immediately, the room went silent. Vernon was staring at him with wide-eyes, mouth agape. Jeonghan was just smiling, clearly having been informed ahead of time—and the same could be said of Joshua, who had this shit-eating grin on his face.

“Well?” Seungcheol pouted. “You aren’t going to say anything?”

“That’s great!” Seokmin decided to say quickly, and he saw the way Seungcheol then smiled. “Do you want us to keep it a secret, or can I tell Minghao?”

“You can tell him,” Seungcheol waved him off. “I just wanted to tell the rest of you. I told Seungkwan—” He then paused, “Speaking of—All of you are terrible!” He scowled a little. “I told him first and he immediately started sending me pictures of myself in ugly outfits you all swore went together!”

Jeonghan snorted, typing something out on his phone. “We didn’t do it all the time, you know.”

Seokmin chuckled, glancing over to where Jun had settled in the chair next to him. “Remember the shirt he wore to this place’s opening?”

Seungcheol let out another whine. “I didn’t know it was neon! Joshua said it wasn’t that bad!”

“It wasn’t!” 

If looks could kill, Joshua would be ash. But Seungcheol had started bickering with him about it (apparently that shirt had been a gift from Joshua… on April fools…), and Seokmin took his chance to steal another dumpling. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it to see it was the app he delivered for—there was someone for a restaurant not that far away. He dismissed it. He could use the money, sure, but… He’d stay at least a little longer. Just to see Seungcheol happy.

Fed up with his debate with Joshua (an immovable object against Seungcheol’s unstoppable force), Seungcheol let the topic go for now. “We’re going out on Tuesday, actually,” he said. “I think you guys will like them. We ended up shopping together for a while and talking—they’re really nice, and…”

Seokmin let his mind drift for a moment as he listened, his own heart sinking in his chest. Everyone seemed to be finding their soulmate over this past year. He looked at Jun for a moment. That meant he was the only one who hadn’t found his soulmate yet, right? He couldn’t imagine being the last person, but Jun seemed to be taking it well. Soonyoung, just as Seokmin did, went out on the occasional date—hell, both of them had dated a bit recently before deciding to prioritize other things for a bit. But it was weird knowing that he was going to be on his own now. Even Vernon and Jihoon ended up having soulmates. Seokmin had wanted to hold out hope that maybe that meant he had one, too, but…

The door opened, and in walked someone who looked at the group with wide-eyes. “Sorry—I thought this was still open—”

“It is!” Jun said, getting up and making his way toward the counter. “Sorry, how can I help you?”

The customer had started rambling about their friend, Minho, having been here a few days ago. Seokmin listened as they explained their own soulmate sign—the same as Jun’s—and he felt his feelings swirl inside of him. The computer chirped, and Seokmin moved to see that it was a takeout request. With permission from Jun, Seokmin accepted it and immediately went to snag the delivery request himself. He’d be back before the hour was over, and it’d give him some time to clear his mind. The customer had gone to an empty table, and Jun disappeared into the back to start cooking both their food and the order that Seokmin left hanging on the line.

“Hey.” Vernon had made his way over to the counter, voice lower, “Everything okay?”

Seokmin nodded, quietly sliding a fortune cookie across the counter. “I’m going to make a delivery,” he said. “Just to get some air.”

Vernon slowly nodded, immediately getting it. He’d stepped out when his own struggles were getting to him before he found his own soulmate, after all. “Gotcha. Is it a good tip?”

Seokmin glanced at the screen. Not really, but he didn’t mind: it was a small order and he wasn’t going far. It was better than no tip, at least. “Yeah,” he lied. “I could use the extra money.”

Vernon knew he was lying. But he nodded again, tucking the cookie into his hoodie pocket. “Travel safe, dude.”

All too quickly, Jun had plated the food. Mingyu had dipped into the back, delivering the dishes to the customer that sat alone, and Jun sat next to Seokmin. He’d uncapped a sharpie with his teeth, drawing a little cat onto the corner of the plate alongside a flower. Above it, he’d written some message of encouragement—all a part of the order’s request. 

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun capped the marker again. “If you don’t want to go.” 

Seokmin shrugged it off. “It isn’t far.” He paused, “Plus my bike is outside. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Jun hadn’t responded, brows drawing together. He looked over to the customer in the room, watching as they ate for a moment.

“Jun?”

He took a step away, realization spreading over his features. “Sorry, I just—” He walked away, quietly greeting the customer. Seokmin watched as he rounded the other chair, hands curling around the top of it as he said something… and soon Seokmin knew. 

So he packed away the meal, tying the bag, and confirmed that the order was on its way. He’d congratulate Jun later on finding his soulmate. But now, he just needed to get out before the heat and smell of spice suffocated him. He grabbed his bike, unlocked it, and took off toward the towering building not that far into the city. It was all too easy to get into the building and get pointed toward the right floor. Normally, he’d leave it here, but he decided to waste a few minutes heading upstairs.

A young man had greeted him, breaking away from where his coworkers were gathered around pizza. One of them had already heckled him for being the one person to order something out, but it all seemed to be in good faith. The guy—Soobin, according to the app—had thanked him, quickly enough. Someone bumped into Seokmin as he was waiting for Soobin to hand him a cash tip (something he’d insisted upon), and Seokmin felt his heart leap. Maybe he’d text Jun and apologize and head home instead. Things were… off. 

Jun didn’t hold it against him when he did. All he did was wish him a good night, and Seokmin was thankful for it. 

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Which was odd. Seungcheol had already treated them out last night, so why invite them out again? What was he going to announce—a marriage proposal? Seokmin was still half asleep as he pushed himself out of bed. He'd agree to be there after he ate breakfast. He skipped it yesterday and soon regretted it. Yet the moment he stepped out of his bedroom, he saw Minghao asleep on the couch again. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way over.

"Minghao, your bed is more comfortable," he nudged him awake. "Two nights in a row? Really?"

Minghao had furrowed his brow upon waking up, staring up at him. "Two...? What are you talking about?"

Seokmin walked away, stretching as he went. "Didn't you fall asleep here the other night?"

With a confused look, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He stretched before reaching for his phone, looking down to see the new message on it. "What does Cheol want...? It's short notice and he knows it."

Seokmin looked up, already growing more confused. "He found his soulmate. Don't you remember? I told you when I got back last night."

"You were asleep when I got in." Minghao frowned at him. "When did he tell you?"

"Last night when we..." He trailed off, looking at his phone more clearly now. It was Friday, but yesterday had been Friday. He knew it, because he'd lived it. "We had dinner with a couple of the others, and..."

Minghao folded his jacket over his arms, and it was now that Seokmin realized this had been what he'd seen Minghao wearing on Thursday night. "You must be psychic or something," he made his way toward his room. "Don't ruin the surprise. Cheol will never let you hear the end of it if you do."

Yesterday was Friday. Seokmin knew that yesterday was Friday. So why the hell was it Friday again? Maybe he'd dreamed the entire thing. Was that a sign? He'd look into it later. Food and work would come first. He'd start looking into it when he showed up to Jun's restaurant tonight.

Sure enough, every single order he'd filled yesterday was right there today. Seokmin accepted those, too: maybe his dream meant something.

Sure enough, the night played out the same. Seungcheol announced having a soulmate. The others teased him over the past outfits he’d worn. Joshua poked fun at a neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate came into the restaurant. And Seokmin accepted that same takeout order. This time he had almost avoided the person coming in, and he’d given them a strange look when they turned back to acknowledge him this time. Again, they apologized to him after a moment before going on, checking their phone.

And then he went to sleep, and, again, it was Friday.

Around the fifth Friday he lived through, Seokmin realized a few things. He’d already figured out that he both met his soulmate and missed them (he Googled a lot that third Friday), and that he just needed to find them to break the loop. Every single day, he tried to fill the same delivery orders. He tried to go to the same places at the same time. He met the same people most of the time—he’d already missed that final order twice now, snatched up by someone else while he was trying to figure out what was wrong. 

But that was… beyond several Fridays ago. This was Friday number fifteen, and he’d managed to exact a few things. Minghao had given him something to say to prove that, yes, Seokmin was trapped in a time loop (details of his date the night before, followed by a quick enough explanation that Minghao knew wasn’t bullshit by the panic in his voice), and it’d given him an ally in every repeat day. He’d slipped up and spoiled Seungcheol’s surprise during one of the loops and given up on finding his soulmate that time. It didn’t feel fair to potentially let that be the day. 

Minghao filled a cup with ice and water. “You’re not trying to make the day perfect though, right? Because you’re going to just prolong it if you do.”

“I’m not.” Seokmin had stretched out across their couch, arms resting over his stomach. He didn’t have to leave for another few minutes. “I just didn’t want to find them after I ruined Seungcheol’s surprise.”

“He doesn’t remember now, though,” he shrugged. “Try to find them soon, though. You seem tired.”

“I am.” 

Minghao came over to him, extending the glass to him. “Then get out there and keep looking.”

“I have to stick to the schedule, though,” Seokmin accepted the glass as he sat up. “Otherwise I’ll keep missing them.” 

“Remember what we all said?” Minghao crossed his arms. “You’ll know them when you see them.”

Seokmin moved over, giving Minghao space to sit next to him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“When I saw my soulmate, I…” He pressed his lips together, looking toward the windows for a moment. “I felt like I was at peace.” Again, he paused, thinking over his words. “Like… I was ready to try to love them. To learn more about them and see why they were my soulmate.” 

That night, Seokmin posed the question of how they all knew while sitting at dinner with the others. He mouthed an apology to Soonyoung for asking a question neither of them (to his knowledge) would ever understand, but he didn’t seem all too bothered by it. The group had gone quiet, all thinking about their individual answers. And as Seokmin expected, Seungcheol had his the soonest.

“I didn’t feel anything special until I caught them,” he admitted, looking at Seokmin. “But when I did… It felt like everything was right. Like… Everything had been leading to that moment. I was where I needed to be, I think. As much as I wanted to meet them sooner, I think we found each other at the right time.”

Jeonghan nodded along to it, a soft hum sounding from him as he agreed with every sentence. “Right. I know I’m different because I’ve always known mine, but… I felt like I’d found the missing piece in my life. I know that’s sappy to say,” he laughed softly, “but it’s true. I’ve loved them this long, you know?”

Vernon had pressed his lips together. And a moment later, he nodded, too. “Right. I’d liked them for a while, but I think realizing that our sign had been right there the entire time… It all just made sense—”

“You literally made out with them immediately, don’t act all sentimental,” Chan rolled his eyes. “But… I felt this pull when I met them. Their friend had caught me, but it still felt like something was pulling me toward them.”

“Right, right…” Mingyu nodded along to that. “It felt like things were right in this way I can’t describe.”

Joshua hummed to himself, the sole person without an answer yet. He raked his fingers through his hair before meeting Seokmin’s gaze. “Maybe I’m just weird, but I didn’t really have anything like that. Like… I knew I was about to meet them since we’d agreed to meet up at a coffee shop, but the most I felt was this comfortable warmth. Like, we’d grown up sharing this experience together. It just felt like I met someone who understood me in some way.”

Seokmin noted down everything in his mind. A feeling of things being right, or a pull toward someone, or even that he’d found something he’d always been missing (although maybe without realizing it, if it were to apply to him). 

Yet he went to bed that night, woke up to another Friday, and wondered if he had broken something along the way.

Online forums helped plenty. He made and remade an account and the same post since around Friday number eight, always getting the same people chiming in and believing in him. You’ll find them soon! He’d always say how many Fridays he’d repeated, and yet there was always the same encouragement. Today was Friday number seventeen. Every single day, Seokmin woke up to the same situation. A new account, a new post. Seungcheol’s text. The same deliveries, the same thanks. The same breaks for lunch, including texting Mingyu about meeting up for coffee sometime (he hadn’t made it yet, but he was determined to). The people on the forums had told him the same thing his friends did: he would know his soulmate when he saw them.

So why was he so antsy today?

He’d shown up to Jun’s restaurant at the same time, wiping down the tables in record speed before relaxing with his cup of ice water. He listened to the clamor of pans in the back as Jun cooked for another table, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed. Friday number seventeen, and he wasn’t getting any closer, was he? Over two weeks and he’d found little ways to break up the monotony when he could. No one he delivered to was his soulmate. No one in that Jinki guy’s office had faced a repeat day (he’d done the stupid thing and stood up during day twelve and asked out loud, and he was thankful no one would remember it by midnight). No one in any of the stores he went to, either (again, day fourteen he did the same as he did with Jinki’s work). And he’d delivered to Soobin faster than ever before, only to receive no answer when he asked yesterday. 

So where was his soulmate?

Seungcheol arrived soon enough, smiling as brightly as ever. The others filed in over time, too. Jeonghan and Joshua arrived together once more, always talking about some movie they were still debating about the real meaning of. Mingyu made a big deal stretching and bragging about his short break at home with his soulmate—he’d bring the back takeout afterward. Soonyoung burst into the restaurant soon enough, always talking about how he was tired of his office being short on staff. Then Vernon and Chan, bemoaning their late bus as always, joined the table soon enough. Seokmin had known the following conversation by heart: Seungcheol announcing that he found his soulmate, followed by him pouting when no one immediately said anything. Seokmin always found himself being the first to congratulate him, saying he’d pass word along to Minghao if he wanted. Seungkwan sent Seungcheol all of the ugly outfits they’d lovingly tricked him into wearing over the years (never for serious events—always for a stupid get-together with the full group). The neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate would be there soon. They always came in at the exact same time…

Jun reached out, fingers brushing against Seokmin’s bicep and tearing his eyes away from his watch. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft enough to not alert the others, and Seokmin barely paid him any mind at first.

“Just waiting for something.” He paused, then realized that he was the only person present who knew of his situation. He looked up, shaking his head as he turned to Jun. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m fine. Just…” He glanced at the door for a moment. Any moment now. “Waiting.”

Seungcheol spoke up again about his soulmate, and Seokmin was thankful for the change in topic. He’d explain it all in due time. Hopefully today would give him another do-over and he wouldn’t worry Jun. Soon enough, the door jingled, and Seokmin rose up out of his chair. Jun’s soulmate was here, which meant the order from Soobin would be coming in soon. He’d made his way over to the computer, tapping at the edge of it as he waited impatiently. Soon. Soon. Jun had stood up, excusing himself from the group to unknowingly speak to his soulmate.

“Sorry,” Jun’s soulmate had said to him, and he slid them a menu without much thought. “My friend, Minho, came here with a couple of friends…”

Seconds passed with each tap of Seokmin’s finger. Soobin’s order. Always steamed pork buns and fried rice and some sort of beef or pork (the only thing that might change—the tiniest change that didn’t affect anything). He pressed his lips tighter together. Tomorrow, he’d start from the top. He’d ask everyone. He’d tell everyone that he was stuck in a time loop. Minghao would help him convince them all. If they knew that Seokmin was looking for his soulmate, they would help. 

The computer chimed. Seokmin tapped the order, reading over it. Steamed pork buns. Fried rice. Beef. And…

And more?

He hesitated to accept it, glancing over to Jun and his soulmate.  “Jun. There’s a request for takeout.” He paused for just a second, “I’m gonna confirm it, alright?”

Jun waved him on, and Seokmin felt his heart hammering in his chest as the ticket printed out. He made his way to the kitchen, clipping it to the line for Jun to refer to. This had to be a sign. You were there. You had to be there, right? No one ever changed their order like this. His brows knit together. Had he done something to set off some sort of butterfly effect? Was he just giving himself false hope now? He wanted out of this loop, soulmate or no soulmate. He’d lived this Friday seventeen times now, and all he wanted was to wake up on Saturday morning and go get coffee with Mingyu because Mingyu was offering. Mingyu would pay for a slice of cake or whatever dessert he wanted, too. And at this point, Seokmin had earned the same thing.

“Is everything okay?” Jun had approached him, keeping his voice low—again, mindful of what little privacy they had with so many of their friends present. “You seem… different.”

He shook his head. No need to worry him yet. “The ticket’s on the line,” he couldn’t stop staring at the screen now. An extra order. For what? For who? Jun hadn’t budged. Seokmin decided to lie: “Just… thought I recognized the name.”

Thankfully, Jun shrugged it off. Mingyu had made his way to the kitchens to help, and Seokmin held himself together. He would not get his hopes up. Not too high. This could be it, or it could be some sort of butterfly effect. He took a different way to the store earlier, after all. Wasn’t that what the whole thing was based around? Small actions having bigger impacts? Wonwoo would know. He was smart, he’d probably read about it. Maybe he’d ask Wonwoo about it on Friday number eighteen, if he woke up on Friday again. 

The food was made and plated before Seokmin knew, and he watched as Jun uncapped a sharpie with his teeth. He’d drawn a little cat onto the corner of one of the lids—the unfamiliar order, Seokmin realized—and then drew a little flower next to it. He’d always done it for Soobin’s order. Would that change things, too…?

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun said as he re-capped the marker. “If you don’t want to go.”

“No!” Seokmin paused. When did he get so desperate? He waved a hand, trying to act casual again. “I mean—The money is good, and my bike is outside.” Please don’t push. “I’ll try to be back to help clean up.” But if this is it, I won’t. I can’t. Please understand. Seokmin tied the bag tight after throwing in a few sets of utensils and more than enough fortune cookies. He picked up the bag, stopping to turn back to Jun. 

His soulmate was right there, and Jun hadn’t realized it yet. Maybe…

“Jun?”

Jun looked up from where he’d begun to tidy up behind the counter, that same earnest look on his face. Seokmin always wondered what he looked like when he realized that person was his soulmate. Even when he missed being able to deliver Soobin’s order, he tried to go out, to retrace his steps and hopefully run into his soulmate. Then again… Would telling him throw things off even further? Or would Jun even want for him to tell him? 

Seokmin opened his mouth, then closed it a moment later. He turned, looking at Jun’s soulmate. They were sitting alone, about to break into their meal. Jun would know soon enough. And… if it were him, Seokmin wouldn’t want to have the moment given to him like this. He turned back to Jun one last time. “Actually… Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back later.”

He could see the concern on Jun’s face, clear as day. No doubt he would be calling him come morning. Seokmin made his way out of the restaurant, waving to the others and saying he’d try to be back as soon as he could. Soon enough, he’d unlocked the bike lock and tucked it into his bag, strapping on his helmet. He’d biked this path so many times he knew it by heart, no need to keep track of his location through his phone’s map. He left his bike near the doors in the lobby, the way he always did when the secretary let him into the building. The elevator ride felt shorter than normal, and Seokmin found himself hesitating. He could hear Soobin and his coworkers talking in the other room. 

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his way forward. Soobin lit up when he saw him. Again, he was heckled by another coworker for ordering something else, and Soobin waved them off.

“I’m not the only one,” he’d said this time. “They’re—” He paused, looking around, only to roll his eyes. “They’re in the bathroom still—”

“I’m here!”

Your shoulder bumped against Seokmin as you rushed in, and Seokmin felt his heart leap. It was you. You’d bumped into him that first day while Soobin was giving him the cash tip he’d insisted on. And now you were pulling out your own wallet, insisting on covering a cash tip since Soobin hadn’t tipped enough on the app. You’d been rambling about how today you felt like something other than pizza, and…

“It’s you.” 

You looked up, blinking as you stared at Seokmin. “Me…?” And then it clicked, those pretty eyes lighting up with realization. “You—” You had gasped, eyes already growing teary. “You’re—”

Seokmin could kiss you now, relief flooding every single cell in his body. He’d dropped the bag onto Soobin’s desk, ignoring the way the guy dove to make sure nothing spilled, and stepped forward. You had immediately wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. Something felt right about it all, like his life had come together in a way he never knew it could have. The rest of your coworkers had gone quiet, and Seokmin had let himself cry a little. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, voice wavering. He held you tighter, “I—I almost thought I wouldn’t find you.”

You said nothing and just let yourself cry out of relief. 

When you finally pulled away, it was to tell your coworkers that you needed to leave soon. You knew just as well as he did that the two of you needed to be together when midnight struck, and you weren’t going to work through the entire night. Not with Seokmin right there with you. It seemed to renew the energy in your team as all of you got to work. You pulled a chair over for Seokmin to sit near you while he waited, and he took the chance to text a few things out:

To Minghao: I’ll see you saturday

To Jun: I’ll explain tomorrow :) don’t worry about me. I’m okay now.

And to Seungcheol: I found them. 

You had paused for a moment, looking at Seokmin curiously. After a moment, you caught yourself staring, and grew flustered. “Sorry. Just… What do you want to do? We've got some time to kill until midnight, so...”

Seokmin had been living his life adhering to routine. From childhood to adulthood to the past seventeen Fridays, everything had a time and place for him to be. So he just smiled at you, rolling his chair a little closer to you: “Whatever you want to do.” He paused, deciding to go all in on being cheesy. “Let’s follow our hearts this time, okay?”

And you, who had found routine over and over in your own life, smiled and made living on repeat worth it with that smile.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[maeby-cursed]

TRACK 1: MISDIAL !

Toji never calls.

It’s one of his most peculiar habits, that although he does carry his phone (a cheap flip-phone he hasn’t ever bothered upgrading) everywhere he goes, he never calls, never texts, never cares to take it out of his back pocket. And most importantly, he never picks it up.

Taking this into account, it’s no wonder that when his phone begins to ring at 4.30am on one of his off days, his first thought is to end it all. He spends so little time with it, he hasn’t quite yet figured how to turn off the sound... and now he’s annoyed. 

He grabs the item and stares at it, trying to make sense of the number that flashes on the screen, the green light blinding him momentarily.

“Fucking thing,” Toji mutters, trying to press any button that could make the ringing stop. Eventually he gives up and shoves it under his pillow.

It keeps on ringing.

“You’ve gotta be… fucking…” The phone flips open. “What?” 

“Toji?”

He freezes, his hand suddenly tightening around the metal as if to try and cage the sound.

It’s you. Your voice whispers his name once again and he’s never woken up this abruptly since Megumi was an infant.

“Uhm hello,” he stutters. Like an idiot. 

“Oh God it’s really you! Fuck, I’m sorry, I meant to call my friend and your surnames are so similar I must’ve pressed the wrong number… Fuck, it’s four in the morning! Christ, I’m really really sorry–” 

As you ramble he starts to shake his head, mouth agape, until he realizes you can’t see him. You have his number saved. You are on the other side of the line and he can listen to your breathing.

He starts to feel dizzy.

Did you just ask him a question?

“Uhm, it’s okay, uh… I was about to wake up anyway.” Sure. At 5am on a Sunday.

“Were you? Ugh, I feel terrible… Listen, I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I have to hang up and call my friend or she’ll freak out but I will make it up to you, seriously. Please go back to whatever you were doing! I’m sorry. Again.”

And then you’re gone. 

The line goes dead and his hand drops to his lap with the phone still hugged inside the palm. He’s going to engrave the thing into his flesh at this point but he can’t mind.

Toji Fushiguro has known you for two years and yet he was unaware that you had his phone number. Did he give it to you? Did you write it down from the records? You called, you called, you called.

It’s been unbearable these past few weeks; he’s been off taking care of a less than legitimate job, which meant being away from his actually legal office job, which meant less time to stare at you as you pick up calls and take notes and greet clients and smile that pretty smile of yours. 

Now, your voice reverberates through his spine and he can’t help but imagine your eyes in the back of his mind. 

He’s never been a corny person, he’s not a great romancer and contrary to popular belief, he’s not much of a Casanova, but he knows when he’s in love. Toji’s but a man with a shielded heart whose barriers you’ve taken down with a hammer and a laugh.

So he yields. For the first time since he bought it, Toji opens his phone and saves a number under his son’s. 

For the first time in twenty years he chooses to pick up a call, to think of what you’ll come up with to make it up to him, to dream of you searching for him with your eyes… just this once. 

And, for the first time in a long long time, he falls asleep just fine, with a smirk toying with the corners of his lips and some hope with the strings of his heart.

© 2024, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.

[tojisprettywife]

{note: been heavily thinking about Manager! Nanami. again, y’all know, not proof read. so some hcs, mostly SFW, slightly suggestive. first time writing for him 😵‍💫. yes most ppl, think he’s confident, and all that, i beg to differ. he seriously seems like he’d try not so hard to be obvious especially when he tries to court you.i hope it’s okay.}

🌷manager! nanami, who never even paid much attention while you joined the team as the new intern. since he hates his corporate job so much, would he even pay attention?.

🌷manager! nanami who later that week, finds himself staring as your hips sway in a tight skirt, as you walk in front of him, heading to a meeting. he quickly composes himself, to maintain professionalism and ethics. as the meeting gets started, 40 minutes into, you had to present something. suddenly, his focus is completely on you, he tries to tone it down a bit? in order you don’t feel self conscious about yourself. he’s completely zoning out, the only thing he knows is that you’re infront of him. not a single word you’re saying or what’s going on in that point of time you were presenting, registered to him.

🌷manager! nanami who as the meeting comes to an end, he tries to take his time, collecting his papers, files, so he can walk back with you to the department.

🌷manager! nanami who can’t help thinking of all kinds of scenarios, especially ones where you and him, get into empty conference room to sneak in hugs and kisses or maybe more… if you’re down.. later..

🌷manager! nanami who calls you into his cabin, just so he can try to talk to, have a small talk, get closer and preferably wants to get to know you after work, personally. he terribly fails since he can’t gather his courage to talk to you properly w/o feeling like a creep or making awkward

🌷manager! nanami who as soon as he gets to know there’s a business trip, picks you as his partner to go with, in the name of “teaching/mentoring” only to court and know you better.

🌷manager nanami who loves when you and him get on a crowded elevator bc he gets to be so so so close to him, his chest pressing against yours “I’m sorry, it’s a bit too crowded today” he genuinely apologizes but he can’t help like it all too much.

🌷manager! nanami whose eyes are on the buttons of your shirt on your bust, imagining how it’s underneath, but he snaps back to his senses, his eyes looking into yours again, as you speak.

🌷manager! nanami who can’t help stare at your lips, as you speak, wanting to know how it’d feel against his, how you’d taste and most of all how pretty it’d be around his….

🌷manager! nanami who thought his life was too dull, too boring, with your sudden appearance it’s all more vibrant and beautiful. he finds himself thinking like a teenager, trying every way to get close to you w/o making it obvious

🌷manager! nanami who compliments you when you do your work well or when you present well, which causes the rest of the department to gossip a little “maybe he likes you, y/n”, you wave your hand and laugh it off.

🌷manager! nanami who does in fact pay special attention to you, offering you rides home, randomly buying you snacks. “i thought you’d like this”

🌷manager! nanami who looks forward everyday to get to work, bc he gets to see you.

🌷manager! nanami who tries to brush shoulders each time you walk beside him.

🌷manager! nanami who pathetically tries to hide it all, without knowing how obvious he’s being.

🌷manager! nanami who is head over hells for you.

🌷manager! nanami who fell in love for the first time, with you.

(any sort of interaction is very much appreciated! :) )

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

selkie reader and their sailor husbands have a lovely beach day,, 😌💕💕✨✨💕💕✨✨✨💕💕💕✨

(Could also be considered the “Omg this beach has free babies!!!” comic and/or “Moon thought he was a father for 0.2 seconds and damn near had a stroke about it” comic)

[pezhead]

Hey! Good luck in the tmnt au competition! I have a question: in the competition what would Leo do if any of his bro’s got lost (Mikey especially)

Just your classic Hamato "afraid-of-failing-to-protect-his-brothers" Leonardo kind of breakdown~

Alright guys! I don't yet know who I'll be facing in the first official round for the @tmntaucompetition but if Age Gap AU makes it to round two, I'll draw an angst comic inspired by this ask~