thefanficmonster

[thefanficmonster]

Tattoos Together

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Friends to Lovers, FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They got too many matching tattoos for it to be a coincidence at this point.

The first one was easy to get away with. Mostly cause they dragged Sam into it as well. Considering how spontaneous it was, it's a miracle neither one of the three regrets waking up the following morning, hungover after a night of drinking illegally acquired booze, to find a small sheet ghost tattoo on the inside of their right wrists.

The others are harder to explain and count on their fans to be the most diligent investigators and most relentless prosecutors.

Let me give you an example

For starters, the devil horns and tail behind Colby's left ear. Tiny tattoo but an adorable one at that. Hard to spot but the watchful eye of the fandom rarely lets something slip by.

But even so, Colby and Y/N managed to get away with for months. Despite me making it sound like a crime, it's in no way serious. But it was definitely treated as such when, during one video, in a single 0.2s long moment, fans managed to catch glimpse of a tattoo behind Y/N's right ear that's usually concealed by her hair. Much like Colby's, it's a small and easy-to-miss and even easier-to-cover tattoo.

But man did that freeze-frame from the video get the dating rumor pot boiling. Who knew a tiny tattoo of a halo and angel wings would cause such a stir huh?

The second one is subtle, but far easier to spot. And once the fans' crosshairs landed on the tattoos, Colby and Y/N got a little bold.

No caption either - just Colby's style. Perfectly theatrically mysterious. The kind of mysterious that forced them to silence their phones to prevent them from buzzing directly off the table.

And then they just started making it too easy for the Fandom Watch...

@_y/n_orwhatever Hope no one steals this ✨️originality✨️

Closely followed by:

@_colbybrock Say less ✨️

Crumbs so thick a duck would choke...

Subtlety has clearly been erased from these two's vocabularies since forever. But hey, at least the dating rumors are being fed well. Really goes to show that no one can add kindling to a fire quite like a fire can engulf shit on its own.

On day, on an Instagram live, all three are gathered in Sam's room. Colby's the one who started the live out of boredom, due to Sam being busy planning out future videos and Y/N editing. Her work ethic failed her on account of nagging Sam alongside Colby which meant that, pretty quickly, no one was getting any work done. White Claws were passed around and the live soon became a circus.

"I'm not supposed to drink, I'm getting a tattoo done in like an hour." Y/N says, ironically right before taking a long swig of her White Claw.

Colby, either purposefully or truly accidentally, has a bit of a slip-up when he turns to sass her back, "We both are but you don't hear me complaining."

Needless to say, he deserved the empty can he got clocked in the head with. Curtesy of Y/N, of course.

*sigh* If subtlety were air, they'd die of suffocation.

Taglist:

@benbarnesprettygurl

@jessy-shine

@mushycore

@richardsamboramylove55

@smuttiest-smuttt

@honey-bees-13

[thefanficmonster]

Updated Menu Announcement

Hi my lovelies, this is your captain Vy speaking 💙

Hope you guys are doing well! I've greatly missed being here but believe me: no matter how long I've been gone I'll always come back eventually to drop a couple fics here and there 😊

Anyway, I just wanted to let y'all know of the new fandoms I've added to my menu of people/characters/fandoms I write for:

GTA (Gameverse) - Tommy Vercetti, Carl 'CJ' Johnson, Niko Bellic, Michael De Santa, Franklin Clinton, Trevor Philips

The Click (Mark Deck)

Chase Atlantic - Mitchel Cave, Christian Anthony, Clinton Cave

Fast and Furious (I haven't seen the last few movies so you're gonna have to bear with me 😅 And I'm VERY biased when it comes to Sean Boswell so if you have any requests for him SEND 🙏)

Companion (2025) - I absolutely fell in love with Iris

Sending you lots of love, Vy 💙

[thefanficmonster]

daylor making plans for their future hcs pretty pleasee 🎀🎀🙏🙏

Say less bro!! You know I got you! 🙌💖

Adulthood's Overrated

Daniel x Taylor [The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope]

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking (just fun partying really, everyone is of drinking age tho)

Genre: FLUFF

It's the night before their college graduation

The mood is at an all-time high and everyone is reveling in that feeling of 'it's finally fucking over'

Except Taylor, that is

She always knew she'd want to get a masters and then a doctorate, not looking to take any shortcuts on her way to achieving her dreams

Daniel, on the other hand, isn't so keen on the thought of any more studying

His internship as a software development at a firm has opened a path for him to work for them and which is perfect for him

I'd tell you what Andrew's plans are but it's kinda hard to decipher his slurred words as he lays half-asleep on the floor of his and Daniel's dorm

That boy can't handle his liquor but damn if it isn't entertaining for Daniel and Taylor to witness

Speaking of those two, they're buzzed themselves

The kind of buzz that makes them weirdly sentimental without ruining their mood

"So, what now? We're supposed to be adults or whatever? How do we do that?" Daniel eventually asks with a laugh

"Technically, we've been adults for four years now, Daniel. Though I'm not surprised you haven't noticed" Taylor laughs, giving him a good-natured smile

Daniel rolls her eyes and gets his revenge for her comment by stealing her beer bottle from her, taking a swig

"Very funny. But really, the hell are we supposed to do? Buy a house?" He sounds genuinely bewildered by the thoughts

Which only makes Taylor laugh more

"In this economy?" She shakes her head, "The most we can afford is a cardboard box."

"We have enough for an apartment if we join what savings we have." He suggests as if it's the most casual, obvious idea ever

Taylor takes to it with a lot more surprise though, her eyebrows raising

Pleasant surprise, that is

"Oh, wanna live with me or something?" She gives him a playful smirk

Daniel looks almost offended that she'd have to ask though

"Duh. It won't be a picket fence, that's for sure, but I know you're not into that anyway. We'll live that urban, tiny apartment life. I'll work from home, you'll work on your masters. I'll cook, clean, look after the kid..."

"The kid?!" Taylor gapes at him

Daniel lazily points at a sound asleep Andrew, "Yeah, we'll adopt this one. He seems chill"

Taylor basically rolls over in laughter, only regaining her bearings when Daniel puts the metal ring of the beer bottle cap around her ring finger

"There. And people say being an adult is hard. We just did a speedrun of it."

She didn't think it was possible, but she cackles even harder at that

It's a testament to what she'd hoped for all along - that even when college comes to an end, threatening to split them all in different directions, they'd still be ok

Better than ok even, and not apart whatsoever

[thefanficmonster]

I saw you do rivals, do you do any Lizzie/Freddie? 🥺

Hi sweetie!

Lizzie and Freddie are the absolute CUTEST!!!

I'd love to write for them! Send me any and all ideas you got 💗

Lots of love, Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

Hello Vy!! Im not sure if you'll remember but Im 🌹Anon. I finally got back to Tumblr and you were the first in mind. How have you been?? Has life been treating you well?? I hope the holiday season was a joy for you!!

~🌹Anon

Hi 🌹 !!

I'm so happy to be hearing from you! Welcome back to Tumblr! Though I too have been missing for quite some time now and it's so refreshing coming back to my Tumblr family.

The holidays were fun, got to see all my friends that have gone abroad for college and stuff and got to spend time with my family and my bunny who I dearly miss every time I have to go back to college (missing him now as we speak actually 💔)

But enough about me - How have you been? What have you been up to? What's new?

Hope to talk to you more, love

XOXO, Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

Hi there, are you still taking x reader requests or no?

Hi dear! I sure am 😊

HERE is a link to all my fandoms, though keep in mind that just because a fandom/person isn't on that list doesn't mean I don't write for them. Feel free to ask for anything you have in mind

Lots of love, Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

hii, i've been a long time follower of you and your amazing fics, like, long enough that i also used to watch your streams back then >< i'm currently re-reading your fics for re8, streamers, and until dawn and i am feeling very nostalgic. i became a follower when you were still actively writing for corpse husband so it's been so long 😆

tbh i also used to talk to you but i am a little shy now to say who i am iehfeibdioeb maybe one day lol

anyways, how have you been? what fandoms are you in now?

OMG Hi sweetie! I'm so happy to be hearing from you!

God, it's been a long journey, hasn't it. I'm so glad to be hearing from you. No need to be shy, love, but no pressure, of course. Feel free to DM me whenever you feel like it, I'll be more than happy to talk to you and catch up after so long!

I've been good, college struggles and life seem to be collaborating to keep me busy and off Tumblr but I'm popping in now to drop a few fics before exams creep in.

How have you been? What have you been up to, my dear? I've missed you greatly and hope to talk to you more

All the love and hugs in the world, Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

do u still take requests for streamers or not anymore?

Hi lovely!

I sure do still take requests for streamers/youtubers despite my recent disappearence from Tumblr. Feel free to send me any requests you have 💕

HERE you can find all the fandoms I write for, although I plan on updating it soon so if the person/character you want me to write for isn't on the list feel free to ask regardless.

Lots of love, Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

Vy, do you still write for Corpse Husband?? If so could you write about an neighbours to lovers?

Hi dear!

Thank you so much for the request! You know I love a good neighbors to lovers story 😉

Hope you enjoy ❤

Greetings From Next-Door

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing?

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers, FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse is probably the first and only person to receive a reverse noise complaint

It hasn't been a good morning for Corpse. It's barely been a morning, if we're being honest.

He woke up after three hours of restless sleep feeling more tired than he had felt before painstakingly drifting off at the crack of dawn. He had fifteen minutes of 'morning' to spare before noon rolled around and he dragged himself to the kitchen, swinging the fridge door open to a massive disappointment. Had the scene been a cartoon, a fly would've strayed its way out of the vacant fridge. Then again, using cartoon logic, Corpse could easily draw food to fill the fridge with.

But this is real life. And in real life food costs money that Corpse is strapped for. Grocery delivery is not a privilege he can rely on any longer, hasn't been for a few months even. So every couple weeks, like clockwork, comes the dreaded day calling for a grocery run. And it always starts the same: a vacant kitchen; an attempt to convince himself he doesn't need food to survive; a grumble from his empty stomach disagreeing with him; and finally - surrender.

That's how Corpse just barely managed to usher himself out the door. His all-black attire - accessorized with a black facemask and beanie over which he's also thrown the hood of his hoodie - makes him unassuming, mysterious and unapproachable all in tandem which is precisely the 'aesthetic' he goes for every time he steps foot outside the comfort and safety of his shoebox apartment.

Good thing his kitchen decided to be barren on such a shitty day - rain is pouring down in sheets, the dark clouds are so thick that time cannot be discerned by simply looking up at the sky - it's been the same shade of dark and depressing grey since 6 AM. And Corpse loves it. He just wishes he could have appreciated it from the warmth of his dry and quiet home instead of experiencing it head-on. Not to mention that he's soaked for the most part due to his aversion to umbrellas.

By the time he makes it home with two bags of groceries hooked in each of his hands he feels like he should be wringed out like a towel. The dark curls that are sticking out from beneath his beanie are damp and stuck to his forehead, the mask on his face is soaked and almost impossible to breathe through to the point where he finally bites the bullet and drags it down to beneath his chin. His shoes have a colony of fish living in each one and his groceries are swimming in their bags. But despite the massive inconvenience, his relief to finally be done with the task isn't dampened (pun semi-intended).

However, he's in for a mild infuriation when he approaches his apartment door, keys in hand, and sees a note stuck to the dark wood, the paper ominously contrasting against it.

For a moment, he believes the worst of it - an eviction notice. Is there a valid reason for him to be getting evicted? Absolutely not. Is the landlord and ass though? Absolutely, and Corpse knows the dude is no stranger to the distaste he harbors for him.

He's just about to completely ignore the note for the time being and push into the apartment in favor of drying off and organizing his groceries but an interesting detail jumps out at him from the white page as he goes to unlock the door.

The note is written in cursive in a glittery purple gel pen. Not really the font or format of an eviction notice or complaint, is it?

Corpse pushes the door open, setting the bags down in the foyer before stepping back out to retrieve the piece of paper and read it with far more curiosity than dread this time.

To his surprise and amusement, the note reads:

~ Dear neighbor, You don't know me and I don't know you. But that's irrelevant. I just know you have an amazing taste in music and whatever it is you're blaring in the middle of the night, I'd like you to play it louder so I can at least Shazam it because holy shit do I love it! Keep up the great DJing, neighbor!

PS: Sorry if the letter caused mild discomfort upon first sight. No complaints here! :) I hope the purple ink translated that ~

The relief that washes over him after the third time re-reading the note feels almost like a physical weight being removed from atop his chest and he can finally get his breathing in order. Which then turns into laughter, wholehearted cackling that has him leaning against the hallway wall, groceries all but momentarily forgotten by his feet.

Later that day, in the evening, he does indeed blast the music he typically listens to as motivation and inspiration for his own discography. Despite the blaring speakers, he still manages to hear the three distinct knocks on the wall connecting him to the next unit over. It brings a genuine smile to his face, knowing exactly what it means.

The roundabout way of their communication brings him great comfort. It makes him feel far less alone, the loneliness punctured by the knowledge that there is someone right next door who he managed to make smile if only even briefly.

Thing is, Corpse doesn't want it to end. He realizes that when he finds himself peeking out into the hallway of his building so he can check the other side of his front door for the potential new letter from his neighbor. The realization only sinks in further when he feels the flood of disappointment engulf him upon the sight of the letter-less door.

So, that seals the deal for him. He decides to take it upon himself to not let it end.

It takes him a long time to locate something to write on that isn't a napkin or a paper towel. Even longer to find a working pen. But once he does, he sits down at his computer desk to write a note of his own.

~ Dear Neighbor, Hope you enjoyed the concert last night. Not my typical style to blast music but how can I say no to the Neighborhood Watch. But hey, I don't mind whatsoever - it's the closest thing to a party I've had in years. Seeing as how we seem to share the same preference for music, here's a link to a curated playlist I've been adding to for almost a decade now. There's plenty of hidden gems in there I'm sure you'll enjoy. Feel free to be the one to blast the tunes this time

Greetings from next-door ~

He can't help but laugh to himself as he writes down the whole URL to his Spotify playlist, but even the ridiculousness of that doesn't seem to deter him from his mission.

The next morning, during a teetering predicament of standing on a stool trying to change the lightbulb in the hallway, Corpse hears a laugh echo out in the hallway right beside the door to his unit.

He hops down and takes a look outside the peephole to see what's going on and sure enough, it's his neighbor, having found the note he'd left taped to their door the night before.

He feels a genuine smile spread across his face, a certain warmth flooding his chest. He can still hardly believe he went out of his way to establish communication with a total stranger - something so out of his comfort zone it might as well be in the stratosphere - but that laugh makes it all so worth it.

And there indeed is a party that night as well, with songs he knows all too well blaring from the other side of the wall, loud enough to shake the building. And man, does he love it.

He'd never thought he'd come to think this one day, but he never wants to not have a party (like this one anyway) again.

[thefanficmonster]

The Tortured Journalists Department

Declan O'Hara x Reader (Female) [Rivals TV]

Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is 21), Swearing, Emotional Infidelity, SPOILERS for Rivals S1

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: The characteristically prominent electricity that pits journalists against one another also has a magnetic sort of pull that brings them closer. As Declan and Y/N find out the hard way

"Alright, listen to me." Y/N had rushed into the O'Hara residence like spring wind, bringing warmth to a house Declan has felt cold in ever since the departure of his wife.

She headed straight into the kitchen where she dropped several files and folders, splaying them out on the table. It was evident from her pace alone that she'd come with an agenda but that didn't bother Declan. If there was one thing that could stray his thoughts from Maud it was work. And Venturer still required a lot of it.

"It'd be quite impossible to not listen to you, my dear. Especially with such an impressionable entrance." Declan chuckles, taking a drag of his cigarettes as he comes to stand across the table from the girl.

"Good, because I didn't spend an entire sleepless night drafting all this for you to not pay me any mind." She grumbles as she flicks open the folders, flipping past the formality pages to the main course of the idea she's about to pitch.

Y/N is one of the Corinium refugees that jumped ship the second Declan resigned. She was a paid intern and the face of Corinium's 'After Dark' segment focusing on rather scandalous topics and entertainment targeting the young adult demographic. However, with the continuous undermining she felt from practically everyone, she had long been planning to break the chain binding her to the company. The only thing - or rather, person - that kept changing her mind was...well, I think it's pretty darn obvious when you take note of when she finally decided to go through with the decision and leave.

Declan pulls out a chair and takes a seat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table to skim all the files she's laid out for him "I'm all ears, darling."

"You better be." Y/N says with a clap of her hands as she takes a deep breath, "So, I've been thinking, we should set Venturer free from the shadows of Corinium. Because, right now, especially with you as the face of the company, we seem like a bitter revenge attempt. Just an endeavor to bite back at a company that wronged you. Of course, that is not my personal opinion, but-"

"I think it is."

"Hush!" She scolds him as he interrupts her, "I'm far from done."

Declan laughs, smoke curling around him as he lifts his hands up in surrender, motioning for her to continue.

"Thank you." She narrows her eyes, "So, I'll cut to the chase, seeing as how your attention span is one of a fish. My idea is to make Venturer unique in more ways than one. Truly make it our own. And....take down two birds with one stone." She says with a knowing look.

Declan quirks an eyebrow at her, tilting his head to the side, "And what's this second bird you speak of."

Y/N points a manicured nail down to an underlined name he recognizes, "The Scorpion, of course. They have a massive monopoly over London's printed journalism and they don't even know how to use it properly. They have a wide reach and use it to spread gossip and rumors. I can count on all ten fingers the amount of nude pictures I've seen in a supposedly serious paper just this past year. It is abhorrent. That being said, what do you say?"

Declan places a hand on his chin, giving the documents she's put so much thought in a more thorough look. The idea had never even crossed his mind - the Venturer merging two separate branches of journalism, setting in motion a domination attempt of the entire field.

The more he ponders it, the better it sounds, but it doesn't exactly show on his face which makes Y/N feel nervous for the very first time since she started working on the pitch. She hadn't for a second doubted that it would be a good idea but right now she feels rather unsure as she takes in Declan's thoughtful furrowed brow.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away. I know it's a hefty endeavor and you have to consult with Rupert and Freddie and Cameron. I probably should've gathered all of you to properly pitch the idea but I wanted you to be the first to hear it in case it was an utter embarrassment. Again, think it over, and get back to it whenever you-"

"It's genius."

Her rambling comes to an abrupt halt, leaving her slack-jawed and wide-eyed. For a moment, she refuses to allow herself the joy of success, opting to make sure she hadn't misheard him first. "Come again?"

"It's genius." He doubles down on his original statement, "You're a genius, love. Which is why you'll be the leading force behind Venturer Daily." He smirks when he sees her eyes grow impossibly wider, "Like the name?"

The airy laugh that leaves her parted lips carries all the disbelief, worry and uncertainty from her body, giving way to relief childlike excitement that displays itself with a wide grin, "Venturer Daily.....yes, y-yeah, it has a nice ring to it." Her mind is already a whirlwind of potential topics and stories she could report on. How she'd have complete control of all that'd get printed and released into the world for all of London society to read. And beyond - nation wide even.

But then logic and rational thinking kicks in, curbing her thrill, "Wait, don't we have to consult everyone else before making such decisions?"

Declan shakes his head, "With a passionate pitch like yours they'll immediately climb onboard even if they are initially against it. Which I honestly doubt, there are very few downsides for them to pick at."

"Alright, fair. What about my writing? What if I don't have what it takes to transfer the charm I have in front of the camera to a printed page?" She asks, more so wondering aloud rather than actually directing the question to Declan.

Still, he points a scolding finger at her, "Never let me hear you doubt yourself like that again."

The sternness in his voice causes something to stir inside her, like ripples in a still lake that progressively become waves when she sees the intensity in his eyes. Because of course that's how her body reacts to strict praise and attention from a man twice her age that also happens to be her boss.

Her next worry is voiced a little quietly, almost sheepishly, "I don't even have a typewriter of my own."

He doesn't give an instant reply to her raised concern. Instead, he motions for her to wait a moment before leaving the kitchen, heading up the stairs in the foyer.

Y/N is left standing alone in the kitchen with a flushed face and a speeding heart as she chews on her bottom lip in anticipation. Her fingers drum nervously on the edge of the table as she takes a deep breath, willing her heart to slow down and take it easy. All in the hopes of not being let down in the end.

Let down she most certainly isn't when Declan comes back down the stairs, typewriter in hand, and places it on the table in front of her.

"Problem solved. Anything else bothering ya? If there is something, let me know so I can take care of it for ya, alright? You just focus on getting me a newspaper draft within the next two weeks. Sounds good?" He asks, as he stands beside her, hands on hips, spine straight and a satisfied lopsided smirk on his face.

The earlier mentioned waves turn into a full on tsunami.

Y/N runs a gentle hand over the polished black typewriter, her fingers lingering on the golden accents adorning it. "You would give this to me? Are you sure?" She asks, mouth agape in disbelief as he nods "T-thank you....I promise to take good care of it. I'll have it returned in pristine condition as soon as I purchase my own."

Declan immediately shakes his head, clicking his tongue, "Oh no, no, no, darling. It's yours. Yours to keep, that is."

Y/N's disbelief is palpable as she quirks an eyebrow at him, "How could you ever bring yourself to part with something so beautiful." She gathers some of the dust layer that coats the keys, "And something you've had for a long while, no less."

Declan doesn't show it, but his heart clenches as he sees how gentle and almost loving Y/N is to this object that he too feels such a connection to. He'd originally bought it for Maud's birthday a few years back only to earn himself a displeased reaction from his wife who demanded something - in her words - actually valuable as a birthday gift. Seeing someone be as appreciative and admiring of this typewriter as he'd been the moment he saw it returns that same excitement he'd felt when he was preparing to gift it to Maud. This time however, the excitement isn't deflated by disappointment. If anything, it's amplified by seeing it be mirrored in Y/N's eyes.

Eyes that hold such adoration.

Adoration he witnesses morph into something else when her eyes meet his for a split second before she throws her arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. The action stuns him, mostly because it's coming from someone who's not typically openly affectionate but he welcomes it none the less, returning the gesture with a flutter in his heartbeat.

He's unsure of how to describe what he's feeling but a small voice in his brain is condemning him for it. For how good it feels to have someone's arms wrapped around him with undivided affection he hasn't been treated to by his own wife in years.

Speaking of his wife, he catches glimpse of her smiling face framed on the coffee table in the living room. He should feel guilt but he doesn't. Especially not when he remembers that he hasn't been on the receiving end of that smile in a long, long while. The notion causes his arms to tighten around Y/N, his face nestled into the crook of her neck, each inhale filling his nose with the sweet scent of her perfume lingering on her skin and in her hair.

"Thank you..." She whispers as her arms slowly loosen around him. He doesn't even have time to feel disappointed to no longer feel her warmth around him when her lips press against his cheek, sending sparks of electricity throughout his entire body, setting every nerve ending aflame.

Before he's even had the chance to gather his bearings, Y/N has already collected the files and folders she'd brought, leaving them in a neat pile on the table. She picks up the typewriter in her arms, the weight of it evident in the way she's carrying it like an infant - or rather that is a display of the care she feels for the gift.

It's obvious the kiss was an improvised action on her part. There's a solid chance she herself was surprised by it considering how flustered she is now as she's doing everything in her power to leave the O'Hara residence.

"I'll have a draft delivered to you in a couple days." She says hastily, one foot practically already out the door, "I promise I won't let you down."

Declan's arm seems to have a mind of its own as it shoots out and gently grabs hers, stopping her in her frazzled haste to run away. His thumb swipes over the soft cotton of her sweater, allowing her to feel the warmth of his touch on her skin through the fabric. His eyes are warm and inviting, exuding comfort and reassurance she's never been offered by anyone before.

"You could never let me down, darling."

His words might as well have been a physical force the way they knock the breath clear from her lungs.

In another universe, she might be a better woman. The kind that wouldn't kiss her still-technically-married, twice her age boss. But in this universe she has no such restraint.

And clearly neither does he, seeing as how he meets her halfway, their bodies symbolically separated by the typewriter she's cradling - a disappointing gift to one, but a beautiful memento to another.

* * * * *

A couple days later, Declan finds a draft of a newspaper wedged into the side of his front door, waiting for him, a bow neatly tied around it. He reads through it while sipping on his morning coffee, smirking at the bold title - Daily Venturer, a slight variation of the name they had agreed upon.

Y/N's passion is warming the pages in his hand, eliciting genuine emotion and reaction with each paragraph she has written, the word alive on the crisp paper.

He's about to close it when the farewell block of text at the bottom of the last page catches his attention. It's not printed, instead handwritten in beautiful cursive

⋰ May you find my writing even half as beautiful as your own soul, dear reader

May you have enlighten yourself with my words the way you've enlighten my life with your presence

May your heart be warm as the coffee I'm sure you're drinking as you're reading

May all be well always ⋱

Yours only,

~Y/N

[thefanficmonster]

Hey sis, its been a while, hope your doing well!

Hi siss!! I'm great, hun! Even better now that I'm back with my Tumblr family. How are you doing, dear? Hope you're having a great day/night and are taking good care of yourself

Lots of love, Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

These bad omens...

Sean Boswell x Reader (Female) [Fast and Furious]

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Romance

Summary: A few illegal endeavors, close calls and dangerous stunts are but a walk in the park when you love somebody.

It's two in the fucking morning and he should be asleep. Hell, he was sound asleep just half and hour ago when his ringing phone snatched him from the comfortable slumber. He doesn't recall much of what happened between the moment the call hung up and the present but he's sure it's partly his fault.

What is it that's his fault, you might be wondering.

Nothing much other than the fact that he's found himself eerily lurking near a guarded junkyard at this odd hour.

Sure, he could've - and probably should've - said no. He didn't even have to pick up the phone. Truthfully, he probably wouldn't have had it been anybody else on the other line.

He never learned to say no to her, as it would seem. He'd rather get himself a criminal record than let her down. That might sound like an exaggeration but seeing as how the favor she asked of him isn't particularly legal, I believe I'm not at all blowing the situation out of proportion.

"Hey!" The whisper-yell snaps him from his thoughts with a full body jolt of panic.

Whirling around to where the voice came from, Sean finds Y/N sitting atop the trunk of his Nissan Sylvia, grinning from ear to ear. It's no wonder she hasn't been caught for her shenanigans yet when you take into consideration the fact that she just spawned behind him without a single sound that would give away her presence.

Instead of voicing the shock caused by her sudden appearance, he resorts to trying to put up one last pillar of opposition - not a particularly steady one though. It's not like he's about to turn back now. When it comes to her, he's all in.

"This better be important."

Y/N rolls her eyes, carelessly swinging her feet as she leans back on the palms of her hands, sprawled on the trunk lid, "You know I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important."

Sean gives her his signature 'you can't be serious' look. "You've called me for all kinds of bullshit in the past. But now you're crossing into felony territory and I'd like a debriefing before I dive head-first into whatever you're planning." He tries to play this stern part to the best of his abilities but he knows full well he's gonna begrudgingly agree to whatever shenanigans she proposes.

Y/N lets out a long sigh, clasping her hands together before hopping down, "Ok, so, there's been a slight change of plans. I originally called you to be my lookout while I scour the junkyard for anything useful. But, since you were late, I took the risk of going in on my own and it wasn't nearly as difficult or dangerous as I thought. So, we don't need anyone standing watch, which is the good news. However, the issue we have now is one of power lifting because I'm gonna need your help discreetly carrying out a V8 car engine from that junkyard right there."

Sean only realizes he's gaping at her when he feels his jaw grow stiff and he reminds himself to close his mouth and organize his thoughts before he starts picking apart her plan.

The problem is he doesn't even know where to start with his line of questioning.

Knowing Y/N, he doesn't even bother with the logical aspect of the matter - like, I don't know, how the hell they're gonna lift an engine that might weigh anywhere between 300 and 900 pounds. Instead, he focuses on the centerpiece of questions poking at his brain.

"Why the hell are we stealing a potentially fucked engine you might not even be able to use in the end? And what are you even gonna try and use it for?"

Y/N gives him a look that practically scolds him for asking something that, in all honesty, he's well within the right to question. Still, she makes it seem as if he should've already known the answers to both his questions.

"First, I know the engine is functional. In exceptional condition, even. I wouldn't be going through all this trouble and dragging you all the way out here if I wasn't absolutely sure of that. Second, you know I have an important client order I'm working on. This car, it's gonna be a fucking rocket, Boswell. After I finish it, we'll never have to worry about money again. You'll get your share for your sacrificed sleep and heavy lifting, I promise. Just don't leave me high and dry, please, Sean." She's all but giving him puppy dog eyes right now - the look contradicting the rest of her in her entirety with her jet black hair, hoop earrings and plentiful tattoos. She really is as tough as she looks....unless she needs to talk Sean into something he wouldn't even consider if anyone else was asking it of him.

But she's always been his soft spot since the day they met.

And he's always been her omen. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but an omen none the less.

That being said, it's no surprise he cannot stand those puppy dog eyes without caving with a long, exasperated sigh.

He reaches out a hand, ruffling her hair, "Let's go get you your engine, you brat."

The childlike glee that lights up her features makes every bead of sweat, every second of sleep, every close call he's endured because of her so fucking worth it.

* * * * *

"Do you trust me?!" Y/N screams in order for him to hear her over the roar of the car engine as they're practically flying down the open road, the wheels not even touching the pavement at certain points.

Sean's heart is in his stomach and in his throat simultaneously, and it somehow grows even more restless when he hears her ask him that question that often leads to being either taken into custody or to a hospital.

Still, despite his self preservation instinct, he answers with a definite "Yes"

They are currently taking the car she's been building this past year for a test drive before Y/N hands it over to her mysterious anonymous client. She's named the beauty of a car The Vulture and it's pretty damn fitting. Sean can't help but feel jealous of this unknown character who will be able to call this car their own in just a couple days at most.

As soon as Sean's answer registers, Y/N tears her gaze away from the road, turning to look at him in the passenger seat instead, "I hope you meant that 'yes' with your entire soul because this is one of the most fucked up tricks Brian has ever taught me." She laughs, the sound displaying her disbelief in both the fact that she's actually doing it - driving and accelerating without even side-glancing at the road - and the fact that Sean hasn't looked away from her either. Not even a hint of panic on his face, not even a flinch. In fact, he's smirking at her.

Had it been anyone else behind the wheel, he'd no doubt be feeling a sickening sense of dread nestling in his stomach right about now. He'd no doubt see all the crashes he's ever been in flashing before his eyes, moments before disaster, the aftermath that would follow. All of it. But the most prominent would probably be the image of a burning car on the side of this very hill, a horrific glow in the dark and otherwise peaceful night. The car that he himself had dragged Y/N out of after she'd been de-roaded during a race.

Ever sine the accident, she's taken to calling herself his bad omen. The problem, the trouble.

She doesn't know that the adjectives he has in mind for her are quite the opposite.

It's her that's panicking when she sees him reach down to unbuckle his seatbelt, silently handing his fate over, placing it in her hands that are tightly clutched around the steering wheel, maneuvering it as if it's second nature without the need for her to even spare the road a glance.

That gesture alone would've been enough to make her fall in love with him had she not already been head over heels for him for years. Unfortunately, with nothing to show for it though.

Soon enough they near the end of the road - a lookout point at the only peak of the horizons that is accessible by car. There is a metal railing on the edge of the cliff - one she needs to mentally measure the distance of because she's still stubbornly refusing to look.

Lucky for Sean, she's always been good at math.

With a sharp 180 drift, the car comes to a harsh halt, its position reversed with the trunk facing the incredible sunset view over Tokyo.

Both Sean and Y/N are panting once the car engine's roar is silenced by the turn of the key. The Vulture goes quiet and still, and yet the driver and passenger haven't moved an inch, let alone look away from one another.

"Come on..." Y/N finally manages to find her voice even with her own heartbeat deafening her, "We can't miss the sunset."

They step out of the car, coming around to the trunk to lean against it and admire the view before them - a once in a lifetime type of sight. They bask in the last of the sun's rays before they slowly sink beneath the opposite summit, letting a comfortable silence hang over them.

Y/N extends a hand between them, the keys to The Vulture dangling from the key ring on her pointer finger.

Sean looks at the keys she seems to be offering him, inspecting them as well as her face with quirked eyebrow, waiting for the catch. "You want me to drive him on the way back."

"No, I want you to take good care of him and smoke any race you sign up for with him. Got it?" She replies, still looking out at the sunset as she gives the keys a little rattle, enticing him to take them.

Sean is more than stunned, gazing down at her as if she'd grown a second head. His gaze shifts quickly though when he takes in the golden glow of the sunset splayed across her face, reflecting in her eyes as she marvels at the horizon.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" He asks after taking a beat to recollect himself. He's caught himself looking and thinking about her in more than platonic way several times throughout the long years of knowing her. Never once has he let it bleed over into his actions though. He'd gaze at her as if she were the only person in the room, he'd say yes to anything before she'd even have the chance to finish voicing the thought. He'd jokingly suggested building her a car even.

Never did he think she felt the same way though. Especially in such a literal sense on that last entry to the list.

Y/N nods, finally tearing her eyes away from the gorgeous sight, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, threatening to turn into one of those smiles of hers he finds impossibly adorable. She'd kill him if he said that though. She's adamant she's not adorable. Oh if only she could see herself from his eyes.

"Mhmm...." she gives the keys another rattle, bringing her hand closer, "You've been my favorite client thus far."

The words take a second to register, but once they do, he doesn't reach for the keys. He reaches for her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her in for a tight embrace. He lifts her off the ground, giving her a couple spins in the air, causing her to squeal and kick her feet as she laughs, demanding to be set back down.

When he does eventually listen, he turns and sits her atop Vulture's trunk, standing between her legs with his hands still on her waist. They don't remain there, though, instead venturing up to cup her face, his forehead rested against his as he gazes into her eyes.

"You have no idea how incredible you are." He whispers, not recognizing his own honesty.

She grins back at him, her heart beating out of her chest, "Even a bad omen can bring something good with it every once in a while." She whispers with a small chuckle.

"Oh you're an omen, alright." It's true, ever since they've met, it's all been bad omens around them, as if warning them. Warning them that forever and a day could very easily end today. A reminder that if they don't come clean and be true to one another as well as themselves now or soon, they might never get the chance to. Some doors you just can't hold open once they've started closing.

The best time to say what's been biting at his heart was years ago. The second best time is right now.

And the fucker still doesn't say it. He lets her read between the lines of their lips as they connect with the sunset as a backdrop. And oh how symbolic it is, commencing this new beginning atop the very hill he nearly lost her on.

Y/N's got one thing right - some bad omens do bring something good with them after all

[thefanficmonster]

AHH YOU'RE BACK!!! I miss your writings 😭 I used to binge read your Karl Heisenberg fics!! Seeing you again on my feed makes me want to read them all again ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you've been doing okay!!

Hello sweetie! 💕

I've missed writing for you too, love. Thank you for your kind words and support, it feels like a warm 'welcome back' hug and it makes me all the happier to have returned to the platform

Sending you a ton of hugs

~ Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

Honsetly I was concern that you hadn’t posted like radio silent 🙁 but I’m glad you’re ok🙂

Side note I posted a request a while it was the scream Tara x reader and I was wondering if there was any progress on it

Hi dear!

Sorry to have worried you with my absence but I'm finally back and I've missed you greatly hun 🥰

As for your request, I'm not currently able to use my PC where I keep track of all the requests I have taken (I keep them in a notes up on my laptop) so if you could remind me of it and its details that'd be great

Hope you have a wonderful day/night

XOXO, Vy 💌

[thefanficmonster]

Hi can you do hc's for a relationship/situation ship with Richie from The Bear? He's a hot mess but I love garbage. Thanks 💛

Hi love! 💕

I think 'He's a hot mess but I love garbage' sums up all the crushes I've ever had, thank you 😂

Hope you enjoy the headcanons hun 💌

Unprofessional Relationships - Headcanons

Richie Jerimovich x Reader (Gender Neutral) [The Bear]

Warnings: References to Sexual Themes, Spoilers for S1 & S2 of The Bear (I haven't yet seen S3 so the events described are not S3 compliant), Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Mild Angst

You two butt heads 11/10 times

Think of the way Syd and Richie argue but amplify it

Because it isn't limited to just the restaurant

It extends to the drive home - to either your place or his

It lingers all throughout dinner or the show you've sat down to watch

It seeps into the tension between the two of you in the bedroom

Rinse and repeat

Neither of you are one to stand down from an argument

Or take the occasional comment lying down

But when it comes down to it - you two make a great team

The barked orders turn into pointed and clear instructions neither of you object to

The chemistry that's everpresent between you two turns into the perfect rhythm as you match each other beat-for-beat throughout the whole process

And on these days when you're both on the same wavelength, the harmony is transferred over to the sheets as well

Those are the moments when the situationship you've built feels like an actual relationship

Or at least something with potential

A bumpy ride with lots of turns and dead ends

That you'll always ride out and come back from in the end

All in favor of meeting each other halfway sooner or later

There's an ongoing bet among the staff that you and Richie will never outright date or call one another each other's partner

At least not until on a random Thursday, in the middle of one of your casual bicker sessions, Richie blurts out the fateful question

Asking you to marry him

And there's no chance in hell you'd let it slide and let him get off easy

So, of course you'd say yes

[thefanficmonster]

What friends are for...

Declan O'Hara x Reader (Female) [Rivals TV]

Warnings: SPOILERS for Rivals S1, Mild Infidelity, Recreational Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Best friend's dad (Reader is 21 years old), Romance, Fluff

Summary: Y/N is typically good under pressure. But with alcohol lowering her inhibitions, allowing a brewing crush to swim up to the surface, she panics a little when she needs to pull through for her friend Taggie

"Alright, doll. I've had enough watching you run around this kitchen like Cinderella. Go on and mingle with the bourgeoisie." Y/N sighs, swiftly stealing the plates Taggie was carrying with one arm while her free hand cradles a glass of whiskey.

She carries the plates over to the sink, letting Taggie's complaints play in the background as background noise as she finishes off her fourth drink of the night and sets the glass down in the sink.

"Do you see this mess?! I can't possibly let loose knowing all this work is waiting for me at the end of the party." Taggie grumbles, folding her arms over her chest, "Besides, I don't even like most of those people."

Y/N can't help but gasp dramatically at that proclamation. In all the years she's known Taggie, she's never once managed to pry out a bad criticism from her in regards to anyone. She'd have to pat spy-like attention to her best friend's facial expressions in order to gauge all those feelings she knows she'd never say out loud.

Y/N had originally formed a friendship with Patrick who was in her grade at school. However, she formed an even stronger bond with his year younger sister. It's a girls' thing, she'd tell Patrick, we're all wired to be closer to one another than we'll ever be to a man.

And her statement still rings true nearly a decade later. It's Patrick's birthday and yet Y/N is finding far greater entertainment in the kitchen with Taggie rather than mingling with the crowd of London high society. She gets more than enough interaction with them during her daily internship at the Corinium, she doesn't need her New Year's Eve poisoned by them as well.

That being said, she shares Taggie's sentiment to the full extent. But she's not about to let up on her convincing, not with Rupert Campbell-Black in attendance.

"You don't have to like them all, Tag. One sometimes makes all the difference. And that certain one of yours is in the building, no doubt looking for you amongst the crowd. Yet you're cooped up here, dodging him as if he matters to you as much as those grease-pole climbers and cheaters." Y/N playfully scolds her.

"Don't speak ill of the cheaters, they are his prime area of expertise." Taggie chuckles into the back of her hand as if shocked by the words coming out of her own mouth.

Y/N snorts, throwing a smirk her friend's way over her shoulder, "I don't remember ever saying any names and yet you knew exactly who I was implying. Hmm...." The older girl teases, only to have a dish rag tossed at her head by a blushing Taggie.

"You're in-insufferable, you know that?!" She says, glaring daggers at her best friend.

Y/N laughs heartily, stepping away from the sink. She reaches one hand behind herself, starting to unfasten the corset she has on to keep her emerald dress snug and tight while using her free hand to pinch Taggie's cheek, "And you're absolutely adorable when you're flustered, love." She uses that same hand to yank Taggie's shirt free from her jeans, "Get that off, hun. Don't worry, I'm not looking." She adds the last part with a laugh and a roll of her eyes as she continues battling with the lace fastenings of her corset.

If it were anyone else asking - or rather instructing - her to do this, Taggie would've probably protested and refused. However, if there's one thing she's learned over the nearly decade long friendship with Y/N is that, although her ideas sound like trouble, they're always a recipe for a good time. Tag wouldn't exactly say she's had an exciting life but those pockets of adventure and excitement and thrill that she can recall she owes to Y/N. And so, she complies, lifting her shirt over her head just as her friend frees herself from her corset, causing her dress to hang more loosely around her body but still catching on her curves at certain areas.

"Good, turn around for me." Y/N instructs yet again as she unclips Taggie's bra before quickly putting the corset on her, glad they didn't flash anyone in the split second the action took. Once she's finished lacing it up, Y/N's hands lazily rest on her best friend's shoulders, turning her around to see if her vision looks just as good in reality as it did in her mind. "Dashing, my darling. Take a deep breath for me, hm?"

Tag again complies without complaints, expanding her chest with a deep inhale to see if the corset needs any loosening but it is perfectly snug, still allowing her to breathe freely though. "You really think so?" The younger girl asks, a hopeful twinkle in her eyes.

"I swear on all that's dear to me, love." Y/N says, giving Tag's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "One more thing...", she mumbles, leaning in to press a kiss to each of Taggie's cheeks, leaving behind lipstick stains on her skin which she later smears to give her a natural looking blush. "Voila! Now go knock Campbell-Black off his high horse and into your bed, doll."

Using the grip she has on the girl's shoulders, Y/N practically ushers her out of the kitchen and into the sea of partygoers before retreating into the quiet solitude herself.

She enters her fairy godmother mindset as she prances around the kitchen, cleaning up the mess around the kitchen, letting the rhythm of the music carry her movements. She periodically refills a new whiskey glass she got from the cupboard. She had really intended for it to be her last drink when she set her previous glass in the sink earlier but she gave up when she saw Mr. O'Hara's whiskey collection. With all these people around, she's certain she'll get away with sneaking a couple glasses of one of the more expensive looking bottles.

"Ah, I see the kitchen mouse has gotten into the good stuff."

Y/N damn near chokes on the amber liquid she just downed when she hears the voice of none other than Declan O'Hara.

She turns around slowly like a scene from a horror movie, or rather a kid getting caught red-handed stealing from the cookie jar. Only worse, more embarrassing considering this isn't her house. Although if she were to say that out loud all three O'Hara siblings and their father would be quick to tell her off.

An array of apologies circles around her head, none sufficient enough to mend the situation - especially not when Declan is smirking at her like that from the kitchen doorway, hands in his pockets. So, instead she settles for the truth: "I was hoping you wouldn't catch me."

Declan only chuckles in response, the sound rich and sweetened by the numerous drinks he's had throughout the night. He's nowhere near drunk but he's had enough to drink to accentuate his natural charm and charisma, softening his otherwise sharp edges.

Edges nearly everyone at Corinium has been cut on since he started working there. And when I say 'nearly' I mean very few have managed to avoid Declan O'Hara's spitfire - Y/N being one of the lucky few despite typically being bad at following orders due to her stubbornness. She isn't sure what exactly it is about her best friend's father that tames that snippy, downright bratty side of her. All she knows is that when he looks at her with those warm, kind eyes and asks rather than tells her to do something, adding a little 'darling' or 'love' at the end, she folds like a house of cards in the wind.

Declan strolls in with an easiness in his step, his eyes never leaving her. As he nears her vicinity, he holds out his own glass, "Care to treat me to my own whiskey, sweetheart?"

Well would you look at that - there she goes folding again. Or more so melting into a puddle at his feet on the tiled kitchen floor.

Words have dispersed into unconnected letters in her head and all she can manage to do is nod as she picks up the whiskey bottle with a trembling hand, pouring a good amount into his glass.

"Thanks, love." He gives her a lopsided smile, lifting his glass, "To the new year."

Y/N is suddenly reminded that she is still in one piece physically - not a pathetic puddle of herself - and in turn she needs to function like a normal human being and avoid embarrassment that will keep her up at night for the upcoming century.

She schools her expression in a faux easy smile as she clinks her glass against his, "To the new year." she repeats before they both take a sip of the lovely whiskey Y/N had helped herself to.

After taking a moment of silence to revel in the pleasure of the amber liquid burning its way down his throat, Declan's eyes focus on her, giving her a head-to-toe scan before speaking, "Where'd your corset go?"

Her heart skips a beat at both the way his gaze is running over the length of her body and the question that insinuates he'd noticed her outfit to begin with. His eyes on her feel like a palpable heat, almost like the feather like touch of a hand. "I-I, um, I lent it to Taggie for a bit. I wanted to doll her up a little and force to enjoy herself. Let loose a little."

Declan nods, a small hum leaving his throat, "Well you've done a good deed, my dear. And a great job taming the kitchen into something presentable. You're a great friend, dear. I'd say you've earned your stolen whiskey." He adds the last part with a quick wink that turns her brain to pudding.

Y/N smiles in response although she wants to absolutely kick herself for involuntarily making bedroom eyes at said friend's dad. She cannot seem to morph her expression into anything other than an openly 'well I'll be damned...' look. So she opts to look away from him instead.

"Oh please, sir, it's nothing. That's what friends are for..." She instinctively takes a sip of her drink to cool down only to be rudely reminded it's whiskey and it has the complete opposite effect to the one she was hoping for.

Speaking of a friend's duties...

Just over Declan's shoulder, Y/N catches glimpse of Rupert and Taggie in the comfortable embrace of one another on the dance floor. Although, judging by the proximity of their faces, dancing isn't their priority at the moment. A split second and a millimeter is all it would take for Y/N to rejoice that her agenda had been successful.

But that's also precisely what it would take for Declan to catch sight of it and lose his everloving shit which would undeniably cause a rift in the mission.

Just to the girls' luck, the moment Rupert's lips touch Taggie's is the exact moment Declan starts turning around - or at least that's how Y/N perceives it.

And Y/N would be damned if she let him.

Before she can think better of it, the alcohol in her system takes a seat behind the wheel and all rational thinking is tossed out the window. At least that's the only way she can explain her following actions.

There isn't a single sober thought behind it when her hands firmly rest on Declan's shoulders, instantly grabbing his attention and prompting him to turn to face her once more. And in that split second, Y/N pushes up on her tippie toes, her lips colliding with his in a kiss that momentarily stuns them both.

The last bit of sobriety fights to regain control of her mind mere seconds after their lips come in contact. It's not much but it's enough to scream at her to pull the fuck away and then run the fuck away. And she would've done just that had Declan's hands not come up to wrap around her waist and pull her closer, his head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss which she instinctively - and eagerly - allows.

All thoughts - both sober and drunk - fall silent in her head. The party in its entirety falls silent around her. All she can hear is her own heartbeat in her ears, mingled with his slightly labored breathing as the kiss reaches new heights in passion and heat with each passing second until they both run out of breath - the lack of oxygen being the only thing to force them apart, not at all the notion of how wrong what they're doing is.

Again, apologies stack themselves sky-high in her brain but none reach her whiskey coated tongue. Instead, she looks up at him wide-eyed and breathless, her now lipstick-void lips parted as she blurts out the first thought that manages to slip past the fog of shock.

"Taggie's gonna kill me"

Declan's own stunned expression gives way to a wide smile as he chuckles breathlessly at her panicked statement, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her, darling."

Even in the midst of her panic and moral crisis, Y/N can't help the flutter in her heart at the petname. "You....you won't tell her, will you?"

Declan clicks his tongue, shaking his head as one of his hands comes up to cup her cheek, "Of course not, my dear. I can keep a secret. That's what friends are for, after all."

Y/N is just about to throw all hesitance to the wind and lean into him fully, reconnect their lips and give herself over to him entirely when - for better or for worse - the clicking of heels approaches the kitchen entrance, sending them on opposite sides of the room like same charges of a magnet. The poor flustered girl is left frazzled, standing on weak knees without Declan's arms to hold her up. Luckily, however, she finds herself on the side of the kitchen where the door to the backyard offers her solitude and salvation within arm's reach. And she takes it a mere second before Maud strolls into the kitchen to show her husband a fraction of the affection she's been showering the other partygoers with all night.

Regardless of the state of Declan and Maud's marriage and their relationship as a whole, what they just did is wrong from all angles and aspects. It's a betrayal to Maude, to Taggie, to Caitlin and Patrick, to Y/N's parents who Declan has known and been friends with for years.

And as such they deserve to be drowning in guilt and remorse for their actions.

One problem: they're not. Not in the slightest. Especially not Declan who cannot seem to tear his gaze away from the backdoor Y/N disappeared through even as his wife finally graces him with her attention and presence.

Attention, presence and affection Y/N would love to give to him and only him. No division or sharing, no inhibitions or reservations.

No wrong or right.

Just a little secret amongst....friends

[thefanficmonster]

Please write more corpse husband!

I'm truly considering going back to my roots and writing more about Corpse because I genuinely miss him. I might add him back on the menu 😏

Lots of love, Vy 💌