#nothing special just a few doodles

[pigeonstab]

Doodle dump inspired by @somegrumpynerd 's red riding hood/bad sans drawings (sorry for the tag)

#nothing special just a few doodles #i wish I drew them interacting #but it's 4 am i'm done now lmao #undertale #undertale au #my art #sans au #sans #utmv #horror sans #horrorsans #horror!sans #horrortale sans #dust sans #dust!sans #utmv killer sans #killer!sans #killersans #killer sans #nightmares gang #nightmare's gang #nightmare!sans #nightmare sans #dreamtale nightmare #the bad sanses #bad sanses #bad sans gang #murder time trio #Pigeon's art stuff

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared. 

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #jj maybank #kiara carrera

[rad-batson]

Damian Wayne Headcanons :) in which I give him actual character growth, suck it dc writers

this is extremely long, I am not sorry

He has literally no footsteps, you cannot hear him walk, even when he stomps around in one of those moods, it’s just barely a little *pat pat pat*

He doodles on everything. With everything. Some Gothamites have found intricate floral designs etched into the roof or random brick walls (most likely with a knife) after seeing Robin patrol.

He has like 20 weighted blankets, all different weights and sizes depending on his mood.

His favorite item in his room is a silver Nintendo DS. (He likes to use the little chat rooms, even if no one else is on the other end. He doodles and writes little messages. It’s like his diary.)

He loves all animals, and that includes the creepy ones. Especially the creepy ones.

Once, Tim started screaming bloody murder over a massive bug with a bajillion legs in his room. Damian now houses it in an enclosure in his bedroom. Her name is Mildred, Millie for short.

When he was in the LoA, he was forbidden from stimming in front of others. It took two years for anyone in the batfamily to ever witness him stimming.

His most common stimming behaviors are shaking out his hands, scratching his palms, and rubbing his hands across different surfaces. When he’s really stressed, he’ll snap his fingers.

He absolutely hates cameras. They’re loud and make him uncomfortable. One reporter almost got scratched when they got too close to him with the flash on. He only barely tolerates the security cameras in the manor. Barely.

He can and will be roped into any dare imaginable. Bruce repeatedly forbids him from taking dares from his siblings for months at a time.

He has a compartment in his utility belt dedicated to treats for any animal he sees on patrol.

When he’s tired, he’ll speak a mixture of Arabic, Mandarin, and English. Only Bruce can make sense of it, and occasionally Jason.

Bruce absolutely refuses to yell at Damian. Even if some of his other kids argue that he’s being too nice, he’ll only use his Batman voice and his Soft But Disappointed Dad Voice, but he will Never yell.

(He doesn’t tell them it’s because of what happened the first and only time he yelled at Damian. Bruce moved his hand a bit, and Damian flinched wildly. Bruce cried for hours over the implications of that.)

Damian only feels comfortable sitting if he can clearly see the main entrance. If not, he’ll sit with his back against a wall or he’ll stand.

He dutifully takes the responsibility of feeding and grooming every Wayne animal. They receive the most nutritious and filling meals on the market (all while receiving lots of head pats.)

He has very strong eyebrows just like his father. They tend to pull the same exasperated expressions too, highlighting their resemblance.

Talia taught Damian at a very young age how to write perfectly with both hands. He no longer remembers if he is naturally left or right-handed.

The one insult he cannot handle is “spoiled brat.” A few months after he arrived, someone in the family called him that as a joke, and he completely shut down emotionally. No anger, no sadness, no resentment. Literally just nothing. For days. No one knows why, but they will never let it happen again.

You know he’s Up to Something TM if he swings his legs back and forth while he sits.

He is obsessed with those cheap TV documentaries about famous plane crashes and shipwrecks. After finishing one, he’ll find the nearest family member and tell them all about it: how it happened, what human error caused it, and his fool-proof plan for if it ever happens again and he is nearby. Usually, it’s Alfred.

For the first few years at the manor, Damian’s favorite spot is the family graveyard. Everyone calls him dramatic. He just likes how it’s so quiet. (And he’s dramatic.)

When Jason waxes poetics about dying over dinner, Damian just groans and says, “So have I. You’re not special.” That’s how the family learns he was repeatedly revived in the Lazarus Pit due to the fatal nature of his training and abuse.

His first ever crush was on the cute male tech at Alfred the Cat’s vet. Damian was 12. Jason, who accompanied him, proceeded to give him both The Talk (“It’s okay to like boys”) and The Talk (“Your body is ✨changing✨”) on the drive home.

He will not text back unless it is absolutely necessary. He will leave people on read. He does not hate you. (…Probably.)

Titus is a registered therapy dog, trained in helping Damian through panic attacks and sensory overload. If you ever see Damian asleep on the floor, eyes cried out with Titus resting on top of him, you know why.

When he was 13, he tried to fake his own death after he failed a test at school and “dishonored the family name.” Bruce and Dick had to sit him down and explain that grades aren’t everything, and they still love him unconditionally.

He talks to animals like they’re human. He has a habit of venting his frustrations to Batcow in particular. And his fish while he feeds them.

His love language to others is a mixture of gifts and quality time, usually without words.

One day, Damian was snooping around the house and found that one of the electrical closets leads to a tiny space—barely two feet wide—in between the sheetrock and the foundation wall with nothing but a single hanging lightbulb. It took years before anyone else found it, but by then, Damian had painted an 8x10 ft mural on the wall and created a small bed of blankets and pillows for when he needs a quiet place to escape unwanted stimuli.

When he sleeps, his cheeks puff out like a little chipmunk. It’s adorable.

During the Winter Olympics one year, Damian falls in love with figure skating and decides he wants to try it out, but he never asks to take up lessons in fear that he will be horrible at it.

Duke figures this out and now takes him ice skating just enough to avoid suspicion. It’s become their bonding activity.

Once, Jason and Tim made him try a Sour Patch Kids-flavored energy drink. He immediately spit it out and said, “What the fuck?! That’s even worse than drinking from the Lazarus Pit.” And that’s how the family learns that Ra’s made Damian drink from the Lazarus Pit a few times.

One day, Steph told Damian about the wonders of concealed self defense products. Now, about 80% of the mundane items Damian owns is secretly a knife. He will purchase any item that is secretly a knife. Including several fake lipstick tubes.

He has rigorous self-control when it comes to sleep. Sure, his schedule is a bit fucked up for someone his age, but he is in bed and asleep exactly when he tells himself. (His siblings could never.)

His entire wardrobe is soft items he “found” stole from the laundry room. If it’s comfortable, it’s his now. (No one complains. In fact, having Damian steal your clothes is considered a privilege.)

He hates whenever Alfred tries to recreate dishes from his childhood. It’s just not the same. Alfred understands.

When he’s really stressed—like the “I am one stubbed toe away from a complete meltdown” stressed—he will finger paint. He likes the feeling of it on his skin.

Due to his time in the LoA, Damian has a habit of never telling anyone if he’s injured. Instead, he’ll pretend nothing’s wrong until he passes out or literally can’t move right and someone calls him out. He’s working on it, though.

There’s a massive system of fish tanks in his room complete with handmade decor and multiple venomous species. No one even realizes until Alfred mentions it during dinner.

He has hyper fixated at least once on every single artistic medium you can imagine. His top three are oil paintings, mosaics, and pottery, but he mostly sticks to drawing in his free time.

He has taste tested all of his pets’ treats at one point for “research purposes.”

Giving friends their own nickname is one of the most intimate things Damian does to express his relationship with someone.

Once, he was having an argument with a sibling, and they said, “Oh yeah? Well at least Bruce wanted me!” Damian didn’t leave his room for exactly six days. He even stapled blackout curtains to his windows and the vents. Bruce chewed the shit out of whoever said it and spent hours every day talking to Damian through the door to convince him that, yes, Bruce wants him and couldn’t ever think of a family without him. Damian didn’t come out, however, until he heard Bruce crying while begging him to eat. Damian slept in Bruce’s bed that night and the following week.

When he turns 15, he gets really obsessed with Måneskin.

He’s exactly the kind of Art Hoe that is completely loyal to his favorite brand of art supplies and wouldn’t touch other brands with a 10ft pole.

He has weirdly thin fingers. Like creepily thin, especially as he grows older. Someone commented on them once, and Damian proceeded to wear gloves nonstop for a week.

There are exactly four (4) people who are allowed to touch him without permission first. Dick, Jon, Bruce, and Talia in that order.

His eyes are actually naturally blue. The reason they are green is because of the Lazarus Pit. It’s always the Lazarus Pit. (They barely glow in the dark too, but you need to really pay attention to notice.)

He can wiggle his ears. The only people to ever witness it are Cass and Duke. They’ve been sworn to secrecy.

Whenever one of his many pets sleeps in his bed, he tries to stay as still as possible without touching them so they don’t get annoyed and leave, but they always worm their way into his arms.

As he grows, his family is surprised to learn that he isn’t building the same muscle as his dad. Instead, he’s lean like his mother due to an extremely fast metabolism. He eats a lot to maintain proper health. (His cheeks are still puffy when he sleeps, though. And when he smiles.)

Dick is his emergency contact for school, partially because Dick isn’t as busy, partially due to that time Bruce “died,” but mostly because Damian is terrified of disappointing Bruce if he ever gets in trouble. Thankfully, Dick is convincing Damian otherwise.

His favorite ever birthday gift comes from Tim. It’s a pottery studio he spent months building on their property in secret with several pottery wheels and a kiln.

His hands have always had a sort of surgical accuracy to them due to his stealth training, but it never came to the forefront of everyone’s mind until one particular mission when Tim got shot, and they needed to get the bullet out as quickly as possible. Despite being bigger than most of his family members by now, and Tim refusing to stay still the whole time, Damian was the only one capable of taking the bullet out. While riding in the Batmobile. Going 80 mph. Completely painlessly. Damian is immediately given the de facto role of Combat Medic.

Jon likes to send Good morning texts to Damian. At first, he didn’t know about the “only responds if it’s an emergency” thing, though, so he decided to stop after a few weeks of Damian never replying. Within an hour of not getting the usual text, Damian was at Jon’s house in full Robin gear to make sure he was okay.

He and Steph like to paint each other’s nails when one of them is stressed. After Damian comes out as pansexual, Steph paints little pride flags on his fingers.

He only plays Minecraft on creative mode. He likes building farms and wildlife preserves.

At 16, he gets asked out by a pretty girl in school that Damian had a crush on last year, but he thinks it’s a joke because he can’t fathom anyone liking him so he turns her down.

As he grows, his looks become more androgynous, again eerily resembling his mother, but his voice drops low enough that it doesn’t cause much misgendering.

Then he starts thinking of his gender a bit more and wonders if he’s also a They.

He likes to paint all over the soles of his shoes whenever he gets a new pair. No one will ever really see it, of course, and it eventually wears off the more he walks, but he knows it’s there.

It’s a nice day in the park. He’s doing homework on a picnic table while Titus and Ace run around, and he can’t stop thinking about his future.

Yesterday, there was a school assembly about choosing a career path. Alfred slid him an SAT prep book during breakfast. And his class was assigned one of those “Which career path is best for you?” quizzes.

He gets Veterinarian.

It takes a full five minutes as Damian stares at the results, thinking about the crazy, out-of-this-world idea of not being a vigilante or assassin his entire life, what it would be like if he just turned his back on the future which was so carefully laid out in front of him since birth, before it clicks into place.

Damian doesn’t want to be Batman.

He doesn’t want to lead the LoA either.

Two years later, Damian enrolls in Gotham University and majors in Wildlife Biology on the Pre-Vet track with a minor in Studio Arts. He gets a dorm room, works in the pottery studio, and volunteers at the local animal shelter.

He is content.

Does some of this stray from canon? Yes. However, I do not give a rat’s ass. Thank you, and goodnight.

#damian wayne #i have a lot of feelings #he is my blorbo #batman #batfamily #long post #robin damian #robin dc #dc #dc universe #batfam #batfamily headcanons #bruce wayne #autistic damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #jon kent #dc robin

[alrtyhoney]

The rundown: You looked like someone Miguel terribly misses– his daughter. (FIRST PART)

Content: Miguel x Daughter!Reader (wc: 1359)

“Have you thought about it already?” 

The girl remains focused on her drawings, doodling away. “About what?” She mumbles a reply, without turning her gaze, still engrossed in her drawings. She knew what he was going to say anyway.

Miguel reaches forward and tenderly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Your quinceanera, Gab.” He remarks warmly. 

She only laughs in return, shaking her head. It's silly, she thinks to herself. "I'm not even near being fifteen yet!" she protests in between fits of giggles. It occurred to Gabriella that his father had an ulterior motive from the sudden pique of interest in her hobbies and likes; he wasn’t particularly chatty, so the past few weeks had pushed her to finally ask him what he was trying to do. 

She didn’t understand at first. Miguel, very patiently, explained that a quinceanera was a special once-in-a-lifetime event for every girl. It was more than just a birthday celebration, it was an important milestone in her life. But she quickly discouraged the idea, not wanting to think about it so early. They had all of the time in the world, she thought, there was no reason to rush.

“I just want it to be special.” He says, “Your mother would’ve wanted that.” 

“No te preocupes, papá.” She reassures her with a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make it special.” 

The clip ended, the screen slowly fading until only his reflection remained in the empty frame. All he could see now was a hollow shell of a man looking back at him; his expression blank and unflinching. Miguel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That scene had etched itself into his mind, burning– mockingly so. 

Nothing could ever fill the hole that his daughter had left in his heart - like when he first held her in his arms so many years ago; her presence still obvious on his chest where her memories had imprinted themselves, a permanent reminder of the loss of a child. He trudged through life with heavy feet and an even heavier heart. 

He wonders if things could’ve been different or if he would always be incapable of keeping people in his life, always slipping from his fingers and out of his grasp.

“You’re watching it again,” Lyla appears on his shoulder, sitting there with her legs crossed. 

“What about it?” 

"That's the fourth time today," She says, her voice laced with a trace of worry that she was quick to try and disguise as part of her normal banter. It had become increasingly clear to her that something was amiss and although she was programmed to know anything, Lyla did not know much about Miguel. 

“What do you want?” 

“An anomaly is spotted in earth-829, a renaissance-like hawk wreaking havoc in a modern museum– yikes.” Lyla briefs him, “Jessica is already on standby.” 

Miguel shakes his head, sighing. “Shouldn’t she be on maternity leave already?” He asks, his suit already appearing and opening a file regarding the mission. A hologram opens in front of him, filling in the details. Vulture. “Tell her to go home. I’ll handle this one.” 

“I think you shouldn’t,” Lyla squeaks with a nervous smile on her face. “Think you really shouldn’t.”

Miguel taunts with an arrogant tilt of his head, matter-of-factly declaring, "And who's the one taking orders here?" His mask then slides firmly into place, and a portal opens beneath his feet as he steps through. Lyla knows too well by now that there isn't any room for negotiation. 

As he stepped into the unfamiliar environment, a chorus of cries and screams greeted him from the running crowd. They pushed each other to safety, a few staying to watch spider-man in action. Miguel sighs, cracking his neck as he prepares himself to step in.

However, he slightly flinches as the said hero narrowly avoids him, crashing into the wall behind him with a loud thud. She quickly scrambled back to her feet, dusting the bits of rubble from her suit. “Hello? Mascot-man? I’m kinda in the middle of something here–” 

“I’ll take it from here, kid.” If it wasn’t for the mask covering his face, his nonchalant tone would betray his expression. It was no surprise to him that someone as young as her had been bitten by a spider like so many others before her, but he knows damn well what awaits for her and that is what troubled him every time. 

“And who are you exactly?” She shouts, running towards the anomaly again. 

Miguel quickly binds the vulture's wings with his webs, allowing you to throw in a few punches before the bird regains its footing and takes off into flight. “I’m from another dimension.”

You audibly gasp, the eyes on your mask widening as you swing around, “I knew dimensions were real!” Completely unfocused, the anomaly narrows his eyes before charging towards you– before you could react to your senses tingling, you were sent tumbling to the ground, near the broken pile of rocks and other rubble. 

Miguel loudly groans, getting a hold of the enemy. “Kid, focus!” He barks out, and you immediately snap back to what you were doing, swinging enthusiastically towards him. 

“How did you do it? I mean– I tried to prove it all my life!” 

“Aren’t you 12?” He scoffs at your statement, clearly not a fan of exaggeration.

“14 – and that’s not the point, mascot-man!” 

The fight went on with you chatting and talking his ear off. Miguel had answered in dismissive grunts and his usual ‘it’s classified.’ remark, but he just couldn’t discourage your eagerness in any way. You had tired him out, more than the anomaly did.

Spider-society, magic watch, many more of you– you’ve basically summed up. 

“You should definitely let me join,” You offered cheerfully, cocking your head and wiggling your foot. The battle had finally come to a close, thanks in part to the arrival of a couple more spider-men who lent an extra hand. You had caught up to Miguel, basically begging him to let you in. “We made a great team back there old man!” 

“Old man?” 

“Okay, sensitive,” You muttered under your breath. “But seriously– I could learn more from you!” 

“Kid, listen–” 

You had cut him off again, seemingly not taking no as an answer as you tried to persuade him again. You continued to babble, not leaving any room for him to interrupt. Miguel rubbed a hand over his face, hidden beneath the fabric of his mask, as he groaned in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time today. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you rambling on and on– patience nipping on itself from your lack of understanding with regards to the matter at hand. 

“First off, I did most of the work back there. If it weren’t for me calling for back-up, you could’ve been injured badly. This society isn’t some school club you can just sign yourself in,” He explained, already itching to return and leaving you in the dust. A liability is the last thing he needed. “You don’t have what it takes.”

You throw your head back, groaning. You take your mask off, revealing a busted lip and a frown. “Whatever, your club sounds stupid anyway.” You mumble under your breath, suddenly feeling worn out yourself. Of course what he said had stung– it had taken so much effort to learn how to control your powers over the past two months since you were bitten by that spider. It wasn’t like there was a manual or a book written for freaks that happened to have superhero powers under such circumstances. You had to learn on your own. 

Turning your back on him, you had fully expected him to disappear as well– but, to your surprise, he was totally motionless; a statue in solidarity unable to shift an inch. His stillness made the atmosphere unbearably tense and although you could not bring yourself to look back at him (well, you did call his club stupid.), you sensed his gaze upon you like a heavy weight pushing down on your shoulders. 

���Gabriella?” 

#alrighty honey ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara atsv #miguel o'hara x daughter!reader #miguel o'hara angst

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Kaveh

First time doing one of these, but I'll gradually make other installments for the other boys which you can find here (there's nothing there as of now, though).

I am here to spread the dom Kaveh agenda, and no, I won't accept criticism.

Kaveh x fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kaveh is really good at aftercare, oftentimes pampering you after the act. After sex, he likes to cuddle with you and tell you how happy he is to experience such intimacy with you. If you’re sore, he’ll give you massage and apologize if he was too rough. Even if he’s exhausted, he will force himself to get up and fetch you anything you might need, like water or a towel.

That said, he would appreciate it if you returned the favor and took care of him, too. He won’t outright ask for it, and might even tell you that it’s fine, you don’t need to trouble yourself for him, but it would make him feel incredibly loved if you gave him a massage or helped clean him up.

Kaveh is very picky, so he wants to change the bed sheets after sex because he doesn’t like the idea of sleeping on a dirty bed. If you’re not up for it, some gentle persuasion and distraction can convince him to let it go and fall asleep in your arms instead. Be prepared to change the sheets first thing in the morning, though.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Kaveh likes his face and hair. He’s very meticulous about how he presents himself to the world and takes great care of his looks. It’s important to him that he looks his best. While he spends a great deal of time taking care of his entire body, he pays special attention to his face and hair. He has clear and smooth skin, delicate features, and very soft hair. Kaveh is very proud of his looks, so any compliments you give him on his appearance swell his ego. Please give him more.

On you, he loves your breasts. Don’t get him wrong, he thinks you’re beautiful from head to toe, but your breasts hold a special significance to him. After a rough day of dealing with insufferable clients or going through another misfortunate mishap, Kaveh loves nothing more than to lay his head on your soft chest and listen to your heartbeat. He treats your breasts like a pillow, but he finds comfort in being able to rest on top of you like that, especially since he gets to be so close to your heart.

Aside from this innocent reason, Kaveh also simply loves breasts. He’s attracted to their softness, their rounded shape, and overall how feminine they make you look. Expect him to squeeze and kiss them a lot during sex.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Prefers to cum inside you (provided you’re both using protection) because he wants to avoid making a mess. Plus, he finds it more pleasurable to finish while inside you while your walls squeeze around him. It makes him feel a more intimate connection to you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Kaveh will never show them to you if he can help it, but he has a few pages worth of sketches of you naked. Sometimes he daydreams about being intimate with you while he doodles and absentmindedly draws out some of his thoughts on paper. There are a few drawings of just you sprawled out in sensual poses, while others show both you and Kaveh having sex in a variety of poses or him all but worshipping your figure with his lips and hands as if you were a goddess. The sketches look really good, but Kaveh is too embarrassed to show them to you. He’ll be mortified if you see them, but maybe one day you’ll have the luxury of glimpsing into his dirty thoughts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kaveh has some experience from drunken one-night stands, though not a lot. Ideally, he wanted to save himself for a long-term partner since he likes the idea of sharing his first time with someone he loves. He views it as an important step in a romantic relationship, after all. Unfortunately, back when he drank heavily to drown out his sorrows, his inebriation made him thoughtlessly seek comfort from unfamiliar women, which usually resulted in sex.

Though he would have liked to experience his first time with you instead of a stranger, Kaveh sees a silver lining in the situation in that he at least knows how to please a woman and has confidence in his performance.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His favorites are anything that allows him to see your face and be as close to you as possible, so things like missionary or lotus are his go-to. If he’s tipsy, he might take you against the wall, but overall he prefers to have sex on the bed or sofa.

The few times he opts for taking you from behind is when he’s jealous. Kaveh will thrust into you from behind in doggy style or with you braced against a wall while standing, with his arms wrapped around you to press your back flush against his chest.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Kaveh approaches sex seriously, but that’s not to say that he won’t laugh or smile while getting intimate with you. He treats sex like a special event where you become one in mind, body, and heart, deepening the love you have for one another. It’s an emotionally charged activity for him. Nonetheless, he tries to keep it lighthearted enough to ease your nerves and keep you relaxed so you can enjoy the moment as much as possible.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s clean-shaven down there. Kaveh prefers the smooth feel and look of being shaven, but if he lets his pubes grow out, they’ll be a darker shade of blond than his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kaveh doesn’t fuck, he makes love. As mentioned before, sex is an emotionally charged event for Kaveh. He bares his heart to you throughout the entire thing, repeatedly telling you he loves you, caresses your body most tenderly and lovingly, and gives you more kisses than you can count. He’s a romantic person in general, and that carries over into the bedroom, as well.

He likes to maintain eye-contact while he makes love to you, and often rests his forehead against yours while gazing into your eyes. He also has a tendency to lace his fingers with yours during the event, especially when he’s close to climax.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Prior to meeting you, he might have masturbated once or twice a week to relieve stress. After he met you, Kaveh began masturbating more frequently. Once he fell in love with you, his desire for you grew in every sense of the word, so he often jacked off to thoughts of you. If you weren’t in a relationship yet, he felt guilty afterward for thinking of you in such a lewd manner, but he’d still find his mind wandering over to you every time he needed to rub one out.

Once in a relationship, he’ll masturbate less often since you usually help him release his lust, but if you’re unavailable, he’ll use his hand as a substitute. It doesn’t replace you quite as well, but it does the trick when he needs to relieve stress.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Likes to worship your body with kisses and gentle caresses and give you lots of praise (likes to receive praise, as well). Also really into giving oral, fingering, and overstimulating you.

When he doms, he likes to blindfold you or use light restraints like his hands, belts, or scarves.

Kaveh also likes light foodplay, such as placing fruits or drizzling chocolate or whipped cream on your body and then licking it off. He likes you and he likes those foods, so it's the best of both worlds for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Only at home, and preferably on the bed. Kaveh feels most comfortable having sex in the privacy of his home where nobody can walk in on you. As mentioned, he’s very conscious of how he presents himself to the world, and being caught by other people in such a compromising situation will mortify him. He might get handsy with you out in public if he’s drunk, but he still waits to get home before doing anything truly raunchy.

Kaveh also likes having sex on soft surfaces for the sake of your and his comfort, but he’s not opposed to taking you against a wall or table. Still, he’ll absolutely fuck you in the kitchen and the bathroom if the mood strikes and you let him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The quickest way to turn him on is to express how much you want him sexually. Nothing gets him going as easily as knowing he’s desired by you. Aside from that, Kaveh also gets turned on from seeing you dressed in revealing clothing (especially if it shows off your cleavage) or when your kiss turns heated.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that has the potential to hurt you gets a hard no from him. He absolutely refuses to hit you. The most he might try is light spanking, but even then, he still feels bad for causing you pain even if it's something you’re into. He also doesn’t like degrading you, and isn’t good at it, either. You’re very important to him, so he hates the thought of hurting you in any way.

Kaveh also isn’t into exhibitionism or choking. The former because he likes to keep his sex life private, and the latter because it could cause you harm.

He doesn’t like receiving any of those things, either. He’s emotionally sensitive and takes such treatment towards himself poorly.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As much as Kaveh enjoys getting head from you, at his core he’s a very selfless lover, and as such has a strong preference for burying his face between your legs and licking at your folds and clit until you come undone on his tongue. Seeing you fall apart from just his mouth turns him on immensely, and he sometimes ejaculates in his pants while giving you oral.

Kaveh gets pussy drunk easily and tends to get carried away by eating you out until you’ve had several orgasms from his mouth alone. Even if you’re writhing and begging him to stop because it’s too overstimulating, Kaveh can get so lost in giving you pleasure, that he might not register what you’re saying right away. He’ll hold your hips down and spread your legs apart to feast on your dripping pussy. The sight of your blissful face and the sounds of your moans and gasps are too addictive for him. Eating you out is one of his favorite things about sex.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As I said, Kaveh doesn’t fuck, he makes love. Usually, sex with Kaveh is sensual and romantic. He wants to have time to appreciate the opportunity to make love and share such an intimate experience with you. The speed of his thrusts ranges from slow to moderate, but he goes deep.

That said, he has times when he craves something fast and a little rough. If he’s extremely horny, Kaveh tends to set a faster pace, snapping his hips to yours in sharp thrusts. Other times are when he’s jealous or frustrated. In such scenarios, he usually takes a rougher approach as a way to vent his emotions, but he still tries to be gentle enough so as to not hurt you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Prefers to have longer sessions where he has ample time to worship and please your body the way he thinks you deserve, but if he’s horny enough, he’ll accept a quickie. How often you engage in quickies depends on you because Kaveh can’t say no to you. Express a strong desire to have him right here and now, and he’ll get so turned on that he won’t be able to deny you. He might complain or scold you for propriety’s sake, but he’ll still give it to you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Tends to err on the side of caution, so he’s not very experimental. If it’s a new thing Kaveh thinks won’t cause either of you harm, or something he’s on the fence about, then he might agree to try something new with a bit of convincing. However, if he deems it unsafe, he’ll refuse.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Tends to go for 1-2 rounds, but because he likes to take his time pleasing you, they last for quite a while, so rest assured, you’ll be thoroughly pleased. The most rounds he can go for before becoming too exhausted is 3, but that rarely happens due to how busy and tired he is from staying up late for work.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t own any toys since he believes that you are all he needs. Kaveh likes to feel your warm touch directly on his skin which is why he prefers that you get him off yourself than with a cold, plastic toy. Toys can be fun, but he likes the intimacy of feeling your touch on him.

Kaveh is good at tinkering and crafting mechanical items (think Mehrak and the butterflies from the Darshan event), so he can craft you a vibrator or dildo if you’re into using toys on yourself.  

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He tried to tease you in the past by giving you teasing touches and denying you orgasm, but as you quickly found out, Kaveh has a hard time saying no to you when you beg him. He has a hard time denying you in general because he’s so selfless, but in bed, he would rather please you and hear your wanton moans of delight than deny you pleasure. This usually results in you being overstimulated rather than edged.

He’s not above verbally teasing you, though. Kaveh occasionally engages in some light teasing, such as pointing out how needy you are by saying, “You’re so needy for me, love. Do you want it that bad?” with an amused chuckle. He likes to tease you in this manner if you let him.

However, if he’s feeling jealous, Kaveh will show a surprising resilience to your begging. He’ll still give in eventually, but to get back at you for making him jealous (even if not on purpose), he’ll circle his thumb over your clit but pull away every time you’re close to cumming. He likes the feeling of control it gives him, and knowing that only he can give you what you want in that moment.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Tends to be louder than he wants because he has a hard time holding his voice back. He’s very vocal when he has sex, constantly letting out breathy moans, sighs, and gasps. Can be pretty loud if he’s really into it.

Kaveh also talks a fair bit during foreplay and lovemaking. He showers you in praise, calls you beautiful, repeatedly tells you he loves you (especially when he’s close to climax), and lets you know how good you’re making him feel. He’s not shy about communicating with you during sex and hopes you can do the same.

He would like it if you could let your voice out more because your moans drive him crazy in a good way, but he’s understanding if you’re uncomfortable with being loud. Another one of his favorite things during sex is hearing you say you love him and that he’s making you feel good while he makes love to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kaveh is a gentle dom! Once he’s certain that you’re comfortable with submitting to him, and he knows your boundaries and preferences, Kaveh won’t have any reservations about dominating you. He’s naturally prideful, confident, and assertive, and these traits transition well to his role as a dom.

Since he’s a giving lover, when he dominates, he aims to make you feel good. Everything he does is with your pleasure in mind because he enjoys giving you pleasure more than he does receiving it. He’s far from a pillow princess, and it wouldn’t sit right with him to lay there and accept all the pleasure you give him without doing something for you in return, so expect him to mostly focus on getting you off.

As a gentle dom, he likes to hold your wrists in his hand or use light bondage on you (blindfolds or tying your hands up) or pin you down to the bed using his weight. Kaveh also gives you a lot of encouragement and praise when he dominates you, saying things like “Good girl, you’re doing so well for me” or “It’s too much? I think you can go for one more. Won’t you give me another orgasm, love? I know you have it in you” followed by tender kisses and loving caresses.

I have more headcanons about dominant Kaveh here. I will most likely write more for this in the future too when I make general nsfw headcanons for him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Has a very pretty cock, as odd as that sounds. It’s a little above average at around 5.7 inches, slender, with a pretty pink tip.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly average. Kaveh usually has sex with you two to three times per week, but can go for more if you need and his schedule permits. Can’t go more than a week without sex, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

The exhaustion takes over him pretty quickly, but he’s good at resisting the pull of sleep to give you aftercare and change the sheets. However, if you express a desire to cuddle right after sex, there’s a good chance Kaveh will fall asleep in your arms.

Kaveh tends to stay up late to work on commissions for his clients and thus doesn’t get enough sleep sometimes, even refusing to go to bed when you ask. When he’s being stubborn like this, one of the most effective methods you can use is to suck him off before bed. Kaveh will complain and protest that he has work to do, but as soon as you make him orgasm, the tiredness catches up with him and he’ll get sleepy. Giving him a blowjob before bed is actually a great way to calm his anxious thoughts about work and get Kaveh to join you for a night of well-deserved rest.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #kaveh x female reader #kaveh x reader smut #kaveh x female reader smut #genshin impact smut #reader insert smut

[sorchathered]

You’re still the one💙

Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- language, a little bit smutty, angst with lots of pining and longing.

Summary- Bob’s come back to his small town in Georgia for his best friends wedding, will their plan to bring him back together with his high school sweetheart work out? Or will it end in more heartache?

When Bob had gotten the wedding invite in the mail he’d been so thrilled, truly. His best friend Sam had done the impossible, made the long distance work through college and grad school and now finally he was marrying his high school sweetheart Millie. He was happy for them, really he was. The only thing that could’ve been better is if he was sharing this with you. This was supposed to be the two of you, conquering your goals and then winding up together, but it hadn’t worked out the way either of you planned and it had been longer than Bob knew since he’d seen your face.

Millie had asked if your old band from high school would reunite for the wedding music and you’d been over the moon, a few of you had continued to play together and occasionally doing a gig or two just for old times sake, knowing that she wanted you involved in her special day made your heart swell.

The closer the date got the more dread seemed to settle in your bones, you’d stalked Bob’s socials and sneakily asked if he was bringing a date, but the look Sam had given you when he said Bob was coming alone let you know he knew exactly what you were hoping. Maybe he didn’t have someone waiting for him in California, maybe he had even asked about you, and for the first time in almost 6 years you let yourself hope.

In his lonely little apartment in Coronado Robert Floyd was doing about as well as you. He’d thought of nothing but you since that invitation showed up in his mail, hell that was a lie; he spent most nights thinking of you if he was truly honest with himself. He was sure Sam and Millie were already plotting some elaborate scheme to push the two of you together over the wedding celebration and he had to laugh at their dedication. He still wasn’t sure how things had gotten so screwed up. Long distance had been hard, deployments, work schedules and midterms seemed to keep the two of you from ever being able to make concrete plans and eventually it felt like you two had just grown apart too much for repair.

He should’ve fought harder, any attempts to move on over the years had been a complete disaster because how was he supposed to find someone new when he was still hung up on you? Natasha always loved to pick on him about it, that one day he’d have to move on or would have to have his “rom com moment” as she called it and sweep you back off your feet but Bob figured you’d long forgotten about him by now. If he only knew that you’d been just as hung up as he was, but neither of you had been brave enough to reach out.

The wedding festivities were in full swing this week, Millie had sent you the final list of songs she wanted for the wedding and you had added a few crowd favorites as well. You missed the days of jamming with your friends, being a music teacher was so rewarding and it had been everything you’d dreamed it would be, but you couldn’t deny that you were looking forward to getting to let loose with old friends.

You were in full nostalgia mode by the time the weekend of the wedding, thinking of all the things you’d had planned for yourself way back when. You’d had your whole wedding planned out, you knew it had been silly but you’d dreamed of a party with all your friends and at the center of it the boy you’d loved since you were a little girl. Deep in the recesses of your parents attic was a hot pink sparkly notebook from senior year with a list of songs you wanted for your own wedding day, gel pen rainbow font with little cursive scribbles of Mrs. Robert Floyd and hearts doodled all over the page. But that had been another lifetime ago, and just the thought of how much time had changed you both brought tears to your eyes.

Bob was so glad to be back home, it had been ages, his mother was already fussing about how he needed to eat more and catching him up on all the town gossip. He wanted to ask about you, but she beat him to the punch; gushing about the musical the middle school was putting on and how hard you were working to make it a success. It looked like all your dreams had come true, you were doing what you loved, but his mama could see the far off look in his eyes as she spoke, she knew all too well what he was feeling.

“You should call her you know, I have her number if you want it.” She’d said softly as she touched his hand but he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Oh Mama, too much time has passed, I’m sure she’s got someone who could treat her way better than me.” She patted his hand lovingly and shook her head, “Sweet boy, there were never two people better suited for one another than the two of you. I don’t think she ever moved on, I know you didn’t. You know…she lives in the old Macon house on Water Road, not too far if you wanted to take a walk.”

“Mama! “ he said harshly but his features didn’t match his tone at all, he was trying his best not to laugh at her persistence.

She put her hands up and laughed, “I’m just saying, the night air might do you some good. After all life is too short sweetheart.” He thought of his father, taken from them too soon and how his mother had never found anyone else. He’s been her everything, Bob had always thought that would be the same with the two of you.

She heads up for the evening and he’s left alone with his thoughts again. Her house isn’t that far, maybe 5 minutes, and it’s only 8 pm on a Friday she would probably still be awake…

Before he can really mull it over he’s slipping on his shoes and heading out the door, feet carrying him down the sidewalks and past the quaint antebellum style houses illuminated in the orange glow of the street lights until he finds himself at your door. He’s warring with himself about knocking, what the hell was he doing? He’d barely spoken to you in almost 6 years, this was stupid he should’ve never done this. As he turns away to walk down the porch steps he hears the lock click and turning of the door handle, light illuminating the porch as you poke your head out into the night.

“Robby? Is that you?” You say quietly, a small smile on your lips as you look him over with eager eyes. Time had been good to you, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful girl on earth and that certainly hadn’t changed. You weren’t a young girl anymore, your figure was all curves, he couldn’t help but tighten his fists thinking about running his hands over your voluptuous body. Snap out of it Floyd, get your shit together, he thought as you looked at him with confusion evident on your face.

“Well? You gonna come in? Your mama told me you were coming by, I’ve just been sitting by the window listening out for you.” You said as you opened the door a little wider for him to step through. “Of course she did” he muttered, shaking his head with a dark chuckle, leave it to Susan Floyd to take things into her own hands.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway, “I can’t really read your faces anymore Floyd, do you want to come in or are we gonna let all the bugs into my house tonight?” Hands on your hips, sassy remark, yep you were still every bit the spitfire he remembered, that take no shit attitude clearly hadn’t gone anywhere.

“Yeah, yeah y/n I was coming by, sorry I just…I had an idea in my head of what I was gonna say and now here I am and I’ve got nothing.” He said sheepishly as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. You reached for the hand at his side and pulled him through the doorway, closing the door and scooting him in the direction of the couch. Bossy. As always.

“How about I get you a glass of sweet tea and we get all the awkward small talk out of the way, or we could just skip it if you want? I’ve been keeping up with your life through your mom but if you’ve got questions I’m happy to answer them.” You said as you shuffled down the hall to the little kitchen, Bob plopping himself down on your ridiculously comfy velvet couch. “You keep up with me?” He said in shock, he never would’ve thought you’d give him a second thought after he let everything crash and burn, maybe his mama had been right to push him this way.

“Of course I do, it’s not every day you get to be in the top 1% in your field, especially with a job like yours. I’ve always cheered you on, just didn’t think you’d ever show up here, kinda figured you’d forgotten all about me.” You said as you placed down a Mason jar of sweet tea and a tin of shortbread cookies, you’d said it so nonchalantly but he could see in your eyes the hurt was still there.

“I’ve kept up with you too, I- uh I’ve looked at your instagram, and Millie of course updates me when I ask, even if she is still pissed at me about how things ended. You uh- you look like you got everything you wanted in your career too. Mama said the school play is gonna be a big success. I know you’ve gotta be thrilled.”

You nodded, just bringing up your students brought the light back into your eyes. “They are the best, I thought it’d be weird teaching at our old school but truly it is such a joy. These kids love music, it’s so much fun watching them show off their creativity. And as for Millie…Well I’m pretty sure she and Sam have some elaborate plan to “accidentally” trap us in a closet together tomorrow until we work everything out. They’ve been oddly sneaky lately.” You laugh out, and Bob can’t help but join in, they definitely weren’t subtle but you could both agree they were damn good friends.

You both laughed and talked for hours, going through the whole tin of cookies as you caught up on each other’s lives, somewhere in the early morning hours you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder and Bob felt his heart stutter in his chest as he looked down at you. He’d missed this, just being with you.

You had been his favorite person for his entire childhood, how did he let things get so out of hand? It couldn’t be comfortable being propped up like that, so Bob carefully pulled you into his arms and carried you to your room. It was nearly 4 am, he would just crash on your couch like a gentleman should and make an excuse to bail when he woke up. Laying you on the bed he made to step away but you curled your fist into his shirt, murmuring “stay with me” as you pulled him closer, and how could he possibly tell you no? He toed off his shoes and slid in next to you, falling asleep to the sounds of your breathing and warm body pressed to his.

He couldn’t place where he was when he woke up, just that it smelled like coffee and pancakes and somehow he’d slept in. Upon opening his eyes it all came back to him, how you’d asked him to stay and he’d fallen asleep in your arms, he felt hot all over just thinking about it, anxiety filling his chest as he worried about how to navigate the sure to be awkward morning after conversation. Again he wondered how they’d gotten so far from where they’d begun; but one thing hadn’t changed, holding you had simply brought it all back. The feelings he had never wavered, and he was fairly sure he was even more smitten with you now after catching up than he had been before.

You were dancing around in the kitchen as you cooked, spatula acting as a microphone while Fleetwood Mac played from your phone. Clad in a tattered t-shirt and pajama shorts from the night before with your hair messily piled on your head. There was that feeling again, the heat blooming in his chest and the butterflies he’d never felt for anyone but you. It nearly knocked the wind out of him. You couldn’t be more beautiful to him than you were in this moment, he wished he could burn it into his brain forever.

You spun around to the beat but jumped almost a foot in the air when you noticed him, clutching your chest as giggles erupted from you both. “Oh! Oh my god Robby you scared the hell out of me! Did’ya sleep ok? Want breakfast?” You said gesturing behind you to the steaming pile of pancakes and bacon, he wanted breakfast for sure but he knew one thing he wanted more than that.

He crowded you up against the stove, leaning behind you to cut the burner off as he looked down at you with a small smile. “Breakfast sounds good, sweet girl, but we need to talk first.”

“Uh huh” you said and he could tell he had the same dizzying effect on you, that was good, he was hoping this wasn’t one sided.

“I had more fun with you last night than I’ve had in years, and I can’t think of why we ever stopped doing this in the first place. Well a reason that actually counts anyways. I know it’s sudden, hell you probably have a line out the door hoping for a date but-“

“Yes!” You blurted out, nodding your head as you abandoned the spatula and gripped the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours.

You’d meant it to be sweet, just a peck to let him know you wanted the same things he did, but it had been so long, and no one had ever made you feel like he did. It got heated fast, muscular arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in so tight that nothing to get between you, hands in his hair as his kisses became more urgent, opening his mouth to you as you moaned softly into his, and the noise seemed to flip a switch as he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you back down the hall to your bedroom.

It was as sweet and smooth as molasses, he unwrapped you like a present as you tugged at his clothes, you wanted him as bare as you were. He eagerly obliged, tossing his shirt and jeans somewhere across your room as he climbed back into bed and pressed you into the mattress.

“Y/n I-“

“I know baby, I feel it too. Make love to me Robby.”

And so he did, again and again until the two of you felt boneless, breakfast long forgotten and morning seeping into early afternoon.

You’d fallen asleep in his arms around one, and he knew he’d have to wake you up soon to get ready for the wedding and go home to get his suit. He just wanted to stay wrapped up in this a little longer, as much as he needed this to be real again he also knew there was so much red tape. You lived on the opposite coast from him, your career was thriving and you’d never moved away from home. He couldn’t ask you to pack away your life and move every 3-4 years with him. Distance had been what broke you apart last time, he didn’t know if he could bear losing you a second time.

When you finally stirred around 2 you popped up in a panic, you were alone in bed and it was clearly later in the day than you had expected it to be. A sick feeling washed over you, had you interpreted everything wrong? Where was he? Did he regret it and bail?

The sound of a door opening broke you from your thoughts, heavy footfalls down the hallway let you know he hadn’t actually left. He caught your watery eyes looking at him from the doorway and rushed forward to cradle you in his arms, swiping at the tears before they could fall.

“What’s going on it that head of yours? You ok?” He said as he rubbed soothing hands against your back.

“It’s stupid, I woke up alone and I thought..” you stopped and then looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought you’d left” you said with a whisper, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

“Oh. Aw Shit. I mean I did leave, but for just a minute to grab us some lunch and my suit for tonight, I’m sorry baby I should’ve left a note.” He looked a little embarrassed as well, he was very clearly out of practice when it came to having a partner.

“Ugh, we’re a mess aren’t we?” You chuckled out as you buried your head in his neck, he just nodded as he continued to hold you, he still didn’t know what this was but god he didn’t want to lose it.

“We probably need to figure all of this out y/n, I don’t want to pop the bubble but I can’t shut my brain off. I want this, all of it with you. I’m scared I’m gonna ruin it again.” He was grateful that you couldn’t see his face, he didn’t know if he could keep himself from falling apart if you could.

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” You pulled back to cup his cheeks so he was looking in your eyes. “We were young and stupid back then, but we can do this now. I know we can. If I have to pack up and head to California I will, I’m not saying it won’t be hard but it’s worth it.”

He fucked you slow and steady under the hot spray of the shower after that, worshipping every bit of you and definitely making you both late.

The two of you scrambled to get to the venue, making it right on time, Sam giving Bob a knowing look at his disheveled appearance when he burst into the groom's suite. When you stopped into the bridal suite to check on Millie, she made sure to pick on you for the hickey you’d tried to hide under your ear. Clearly the plan had worked, maybe not how they’d thought but the result was what they were after. You’d have to send his Mama flowers on Monday for her meddling, she’d known what was best even when the two of you didn’t.

The ceremony was beautiful, full of tears and love and Bob couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to you, he already had plans swirling in his head of wedding rings and a future he’d thought was long lost. After you sang for the reception the band took over and Bob twirled you around the dance floor for much of the evening, he would hold these moments close until he could get you back in his arms again. It had been the perfect weekend.

A few months later you both were carrying moving boxes into his little townhouse, a new job all lined up at the local middle school and the entire summer to spend by the beach with your boyfriend. Everything had fallen into place, and if the little ring box in Bob’s back pocket had anything to do with it, he’d soon be calling you Mrs. Floyd.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @roosterforme @sebsxphia @floydsglasses @sarahsmi13s @bradshawssugarbaby @hangmansgbaby

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x you

[videovamptramp]

holding on too tight (just right)

// wednesday ironically loves affection… as long as it’s from you //

warnings: insecure!reader, insecure!wednesday, a bit of angst but mostly fluff, you’re both oblivious idiots in love, wednesday is a softy for you <3

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wednesday addams, for as long as she can remember has been completely and utterly disgusted by the mere thought of love. there was nothing more repulsing than the idea of someone kissing her. swabbing spit with someone who’s grossly in love with her. whenever she would see her parents exchange different forms of love she’d have to physically hold herself back from gagging. it wasn’t just because they were her parents, really. she felt the same way when she saw a random couple on the street, or at school. wednesday didn’t believe in love, she felt as though everyone who was overly in love with their significant other was dramatizing their feelings, or just pretending. there’s no way anyone could feel that much.

well, that’s what she used to think… until she met you. when wednesday first met you, she hated you. you were all smiles, and dimples. it was disgusting the way you’d light up like a christmas tree whenever you saw her or she responded to you. the way you laughed made her stomach coil. not to mention how revealing your outfits got towards the hotter seasons. wednesday hated the way her eyes would migrate towards you whenever she’d walk into a room you were in. she didn’t want to think about your eyes or how they changed in color depending on the lighting. so she ignored it for as long as she could.

she ignored your longing looks, and the way she’d see your signature doodled next to her last name on your notebook, whenever she’d make the mistake of taking a peak at what you were smiling at. she pretended as if her stomach didn’t flutter in a nauseating way at the thought of your name hyphenated with hers. it even got so bad that wednesday tried to ignore your existence all together, but that wasn’t very effective. instead of your smile, she saw your eyes full of hurt and even saw you tear up when you realized she was ignoring you. she caved and spoke to you the next period. wednesday didn’t understand why the sight of you nearly crying, especially because of her, made her incredibly uncomfortable. it was a feeling she’s never felt before.

“… and then i told him to fuck off! he was only being a jerk because i totally rejected him last fall. then sabrina told me—“ you cut yourself off when you see wednesday staring at you with a blank expression. you assume she’s bored and irritated, causing you to blush in embarrassment, “sorry wen, i got carried away talking… i know i talk too much.” you tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, and she doesn’t look away from you as your gaze shyly makes it way down to the grass you’re both sitting on. “if i didn’t want to listen to your pointless rambling i would have intervened and said so.” she declares simply, and your eyes widen slightly, as you look at her with pure glee. god that look on your face makes the corner of her lips tug upwards, and oh no, wednesday addams is smiling softly.

the smile is faint and barely visible, but it’s there. “you’re so sweet, wednesday. you always make me feel so special!” you exclaim, practically gushing as you pull her in for a tight hug. wednesday’s little cold heart swells a few sizes at the action. she hates affection or any sort of physical touch, but this… this is nice. wednesday doesn’t even threaten you and after a few seconds you pull away, a rosy pink blush on your nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry… i got carried away again.” you apologize, and her tenebrous orbs stare into yours. “do it again.” she demands and you look at her as if she just said the most absurd thing on the planet.

though, you don’t deny her request, and you cautiously wrap your arms around her, holding her close. wednesday hugs you back, and your heart nearly stops beating. “thank you.” you blabber out loud, and she pulls away, “why are you thanking me?” she questions uncertainly, and you meet her eyes with a dopey grin on your lips. “because you just let me hug you! twice! i know you have a rule about physical touch or affection, but i… i really like it. especially when i care about someone. so thank you for letting me hug you.” your words of innocence make wednesday feel as though her heart is being squeezed so tightly it might pop. “my rule does not apply to you. you are the only exception.” the words come out of her mouth before she can think twice, and though they surprise her, she doesn’t take them back.

how could she? you were now staring at her with stars in your eyes and your smile caused that queasy feeling to set back in at the pit of her belly.

after that, you find every and any excuse to touch wednesday. you hold her hand whenever you’re sitting beside her in class or lunch, and in the hallways. you lay you head in her lap and will reach for her wrist, moving it onto your head and demanding she play with your hair. you play with her fingers whenever you’re speaking to her in the halls (it’s nearly impossible to keep her concentration when you do that). you fix her bangs for her whenever the wind messes them up, and you even took what she said as an open invitation to cuddle with her during your guys movie nights.

wednesday is very surprised to find out she doesn’t hate physical affection coming from you. every little touch burns wednesday’s skin in the best way, and she finds herself yearning for your touch whenever she doesn’t receive it. which is why the last week has confused and upset her deeply. it started after she walked you to class last week, as she always does.

“see you after class, wen!” you lean in and kiss her cheek, causing her to force herself to grimace. she still has an act to put on at school after all. “oh wait!” you exclaim as you reach for her wrist and pull her back in for a hug. “good luck on your botany exam!” you cheerfully tell your girlfriend before pulling away and making your way into class where yoko is flashing you a look. “what?” you ask uncertainly, and the vampire raises her brows. “aren’t you afraid she’s going to snap one day because of all the dramatized affection? i mean, she is wednesday addams.” yoko points out, and you frown as you take a seat beside her. “she’s never been bothered by it before…” you trail off.

a wave of insecurity washes over you, “do you think i should stop? i mean, you’ve known her longer…” your voice is laced with vulnerability. “i mean, i would definitely reel it back a bit because she’s wednesday.” yoko explains as if that’s explanation enough, but you don’t know wednesday like me, your mind screams but you only nod. “yeah, she might be tired of it.” you mumble, your cheerful mood suddenly gone. could wednesday really be tired of your affection? you remember the way she grimaced in the hall after you kissed her on the cheek. you wonder if that was for show or because she genuinely didn’t like affection. wednesday wouldn’t force herself to endure your affections simply because it makes you happy… right?

suddenly you’re overthinking everything, and you can’t help but let your thoughts run wild. you can’t even concentrate in class and when the bell rings, you stand up and gather your things; stuffing them into your backpack before leaving the room. as soon as you exit out of the classroom, there’s wednesday with that blank look on her face waiting for you. your heart flutters every time she comes and picks you up, and walks you to each of your classes. though, you physically dim when you remember what yoko said about wednesday growing tired of the affection. the last thing you wanted to happen was for her to grow tired of you and the relationship.

wednesday notices something’s wrong right away, as soon as you see her your eyes usually light up like a street lamp every night on routine. “hey wen.” you greet her with a smile. “how was your exam?” you ask as you begin walking. wednesday looks down at her empty hand that you usually take, and she tries not to frown. “fine. easier than i expected, perhaps we went a little too overboard with the studying.” she tells you and you giggle. “yes, well, you had three different study plans ready. at least you’re always prepared.” you tease and she tries not to think about the way you aren’t holding her hand or arm; the only form of affection was when your arms brushed together as you two walked through the crowded hallway.

“how was gorgon anatomy?” she asks, trying to figure out why you’re acting stranger than usual. “fine!! boring.” you answer too quickly, and wednesday turns her head to look at you. you were walking with your head high and eyes forward. as if you were trying not to look at her at all. wednesday can see on your face clear as day that something is wrong. before she can question you anymore, you both arrive in front of your werewolf reproduction class. “i’ll see you after class?” you ask hopefully, and she rolls her eyes. “you’ll see me after every class.” she states, still not understanding why you ask her every time, if you know she’ll be here like clock work. you smile at her response, blushing. “okay. bye wen, try not to kill bianca during fencing lessons.” you half joke before staring at her with a longing look and rushing inside.

wednesday blinks a few times, frozen in place. you always kiss her before you two part. every single time, even when she was just going to stand in a different line, you were placing a sweet kiss somewhere on her face. the sinking feeling in her stomach is unfamiliar and uncomfortable. she clenches her fists as she walks away. suddenly she’s angry at herself; what did she do? had she said something? or did she do something that upset you? is this one of those things where she accidentally did the wrong thing and hurt your feelings? she’s hurt them many times on accident before, you were so insufferably sensitive. yet, wednesday found that was one of the many things she loves about you.

she tries not to think about how strange you were before class, but she ends up taking out her frustrations on bianca during fencing lessons.

wednesday tried to assure herself that you would be fine by the end of the day. your mood changed very quickly when you were upset. you could never be sad or angry for too long and wednesday ironically loved that about you as well. but that was last week, and you still have barely touched her. wednesday didn’t think it was possible to need physical contact, but god she does. she craves your touch every time you’re near, even when you’re not, she still wishes you were so you could kiss, caress, and even hold her. but ever since last week your touches have been minimal.

you don’t hold her hand in the halls anymore, nor do you kiss her cheek at any given chance. sometimes you’ll slip and reach for her hand during movie night, but quickly let go when you remember what yoko said. you had somehow allowed that little nagging voice in your head to convince you that wednesday was trying to preserve your feelings every time you touched her. you’d let that mean conscious of yours allow you to believe that wednesday secretly disliked all of your hugs, kisses, and loving touches.

today is movie night, and wednesday is adamant on making things return to normal. she hates that insecure feeling she’s had for the last six days. that pestering emotion deeply rooted inside of her, whispering over and over that you’re losing interest in her. that you’re craving someone different; perhaps someone more full of joy, and like you. someone who isn’t allergic to color, and who has a kind smile. maybe that boy who’s always smiling at you in the ice cream place in the mall. or the girl from the shoe store who remembers you and your shoe size, she always compliments your jeans. it makes wednesday’s stomach burn.

“i brought ven helsing and the house at the end of the street. can we please watch the scary one first this time, wen? i had nightmares after last weeks.” you flash her puppy eyes as soon as you stroll into her shared room, the movies in your arms along with the snacks. you have black liquorish, milk duds, cherry coke, a big of chips, and mini kit-kat’s. wednesday knows the black liquorish is for her, and she can’t help but let her heart lurch at the sight of you. “we can watch whatever one you’d like first, cara mia.” she tells you in that tone she solely reserves for you. she makes your stomach fill with butterflies. you walk over in her direction; she’s already sitting on her bed. you kiss the top of her head; you can smell her shampoo. you let all the snacks go at once, letting them fall onto her bed.

the kiss on her head wasn’t enough to fill that hole inside of her. she desperately needs you to hold her before she falls apart. she feels stupid for the lump in her throat as she watches you walk over towards the dvd player and television. you pop the movie in and start it up, turning around and smirking at her. she keeps a straight face, trying not to show you how close she is to breaking down. “lights off?” you ask with a cute little grin, and she nods, not trusting her voice. you turn the lights off and join her in her bed. you keep a short space between you both and the small distance pains her deeply.

she tries to focus on the movie, she really does. but every time she does, her eyes seem to migrate to you like magnates. you look scared and you jump every time a scary scene unfolds on the screen. she wants to hold you, but she’s afraid you’ll reject her. she’s afraid she won’t know what to do. she’s afraid she’ll be awkward. god, why is she so afraid of everything when it comes to you? she’s wednesday addams, she isn’t afraid of ghouls, monsters, or even murders, yet she’s afraid of messing everything up with you. losing you would be the greatest misfortune, and for her to lose you simply because she’s herself… that’s enough to make even the strongest person hurt.

you forget about everything for a moment, the peace that comes with being by wednesday’s side makes every problem and negative thought go away for awhile. you lean in, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. you forget about what yoko said for all about two minutes before abruptly pulling away, as if you’re physically trying not to touch her. her throat aches as she swallows thickly and she tenses up, there’s a few seconds of silence that tick by, before she asks the question that’s been badgering her mind this entire week.

“are you tired of me?” wednesday asks quietly, in a voice so low, if you weren’t sitting so close you wouldn’t have heard it. you reach for the remote and pause the movie quickly, turning to look at her with a look of shock, “what?” you ask her, making sure you heard correctly.

wednesday is staring at her lap, refusing to meet your gaze. “i’m aware i’m not the most conventional girlfriend… i do not know a lot about relationships. i hurt you without trying, and i never say the right thing. if i upset you, or did something it wasn’t my intention.” she goes on, and you only grow even make confused. “wednesday, what are you talking about? i’m confused as to where this is coming from. you’re a wonderful girlfriend, and frankly, i don’t enjoy it when you talk about yourself that way.” you tell her and she finally looks at you. the look of hurt in her dark eyes is as clear as water. “then why have you been different? you don’t hold my hand in the halls anymore, or kiss me— you just jumped away from me after a minute of cuddling. i thought you said you loved physical affection when it came to the people you care about… do you not care about me anymore?” she asks, and for the first time since you’ve known wednesday, you can hear the vulnerability in her voice.

your heart aches in your chest, and your eyes soften. “if you’ve grown tired of me just tell me what it is i did. i’ll fix it.” she sounds so adamant and it breaks your heart that she would even consider changing anything about her wonderful self. you immediately reach out and cup her cheek with one hand, she nearly melts into your touch. “oh wednesday, i’m so sorry. i thought you were tired of all my affection… i thought i was too clingy.” you glance away shamefully as you admit this, and her eyes nearly widen. “i would never ask you to change anything about yourself, wen, and i could never grow tired of you. i don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way. you’re far too intelligent and phenomenal for that. got it?” you ask, and she doesn’t respond.

you kiss her nose before looking into her eyes, “got it??” you ask again and she nods. “please don’t feel as though you’re too clingy. i… i enjoy your forms affection very much.” she confesses, and you can see a cute crimson blush coating her cheeks. your heart skips a beat, “you do?” you question in pure shock. “i do. i’ve never been one to enjoy those gross things… but with you it’s different. you’re my exception.” she states affirmatively, and now it’s your turn to blush. “you always make me feel so special.” you reveal, your face hot and your cheeks pink. “you are special to me.” she says bluntly, and your eyes are suddenly big and childlike, staring at her as if she put stars in the sky.

“oh wednesday!” you gush as you lean in and hug her tightly. she hugs you back, and when you try to pull away after a minute, her hold on you tightens. “let me hold you a little bit longer. please.” she practically begs, and your entire body goes warm. “we can cuddle and finish the movie, silly.” you remind her and she hesitantly lets up, allowing you to get into a comfortable position. “c’mere, i’ll be the big spoon this time!“ you sound so excited she doesn’t dare disagree. “if you tell anyone i’ll deny it.” she warns, before crawling into your waiting arms.

#wednesday addams x female reader #lgbtq #lesbian fanfic #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednsday addams #jenna ortega x fem reader angst #jenna ortega x fem reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x fem reader fluff #fluff #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader angst #wednesday addams x y/n

[anjelagarrick]

ink

john price x reader

summary: your husband notices something new.

tags: established relationship, very domestic, fluff!!!, talks about having children, i love him sm 😭

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

JOHN’S CHEST RISES and falls with each deep breath. You’re on your phone, back pressed to his chest, other hand resting upon his forearm, gently rubbing circles with your thumb. John loved his work, but he loved you more; he always craved being beside you, having you in his arms. The bedroom is quiet, other than a fan running to keep you both cool in the summer heat. “John, look.” You smile, offering him your phone. Just as he’s about to take it, a line on your wrist catches his attention. Slowly, he takes the phone, trying to peer at what was on your skin, yet you moved your hand away as he took it. It was a simple post of a saint bernard puppy, his favourite breed of dog. It makes him smile. “His name is Cash. Isn’t he adorable?” You giggle, rolling over in your husband’s arms to huddle closer to his chest. “Yeah, very.” He hums, handing you your phone back. You’re smiling as you continue scrolling.

Eventually, curiosity gets the better of John, and he gently grasps your wrist, pulling ever so slightly. You glance at him, watching his eyes trace over the tattoo upon your wrist. It was only small, barely noticeable. “When’d you get this?” He asks softly, smiling a little. “A few weeks ago. Do you like it?” You respond, a ghost of a laugh on your voice. It was a small, fluffy bear with a bucket hat on. John’s eyes are bright with amusement. “I love it.” He chuckles, it rumbles in his chest as he lifts your wrist; pressing a kiss over the mark. “Ive been talking about one for a while, and I figured i’d get something of you. To remind me you’re still here even when you’re away.” You explain, letting him run his thumb over your inked skin. “Maybe I should get something of you.” He muses, looking at you.

“I thought you didn’t want tattoos.” You tease, kissing his lips gently as John lowers your wrist once more. “I’d do anything for you.” He mutters, smile creasing his eyes. “Sap.” You chuckle, gently hitting his chest. “What would you get?” You add on, resting your head upon your lover’s shoulder. “A swan, maybe on her phone.” He half-jokes. “A swan?” You giggle, looking at him. “Mhm. They’re beautiful birds, very elegant, very precious too. You’re definitely my swan.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Aw, John.” You croon, cupping his cheek to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Perhaps you should make a design for me.” John suggests, holding you closer. “Yeah? Maybe I could…” You reply, letting your head rest once more. “Mhm. I’ve seen your little doodles. It would feel more… special, intimate.” He adds on, fingers brushing over yours before tangling between them, he brings your hand up to a soft kiss; focusing upon your ring finger where your wedding band sits.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You respond, smiling brightly. “Good, good. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” John chuckles, already picturing what little creations you could come up with. “Let’s just hope your boys don’t tease you.” You joke, scrolling through your social media’s once more. “They wouldn’t.” John rolls his eyes playfully. “Mmm… they would.” You smile, kissing his collarbone. John let’s out a soft chuckle. “They’ve been asking about you.” He notes. “Yeah?” You chuckle, looking up at him. “Mhm. It’s all ‘how’s our mama bear?’ and ‘when can we see her again?’ It’s mainly Johnny, you know how he is.” He laughs gently, you smile. “They’re probably the closest we’ll have to kids.” You joke, knowing how fond they were of you. “I think kids would be less difficult.” John grins. “Yeah,” you laugh. “Kids don’t have access to C4.” John lets out a joking groan. “Don’t remind me.” You laugh again, gazing at your husband as the room settles once more. “What..?” He muses, smiling gently at you. “Nothing.” You smile wider, kissing him.

“Nah, somethings up. What?” He muses, hand rubbing your back. “Just… would you want kids? A family?” You ask, pressing your head into his neck. “Of course. We’d have adorable kids.” He chuckles, “They’d look like you, i’m sure.” He adds on. “Yeah?” You smile, squeezing his torso a little tighter. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind having a few kids with you, doll.” John insists, muscular arms moving around you securely. You giggle softly, snuggling closer. “I love you.” You tell him, chest elated with joy. “I love you more, darling. Get some rest, eh? It’s getting late.” John whispers, kissing the top of your head. “Alright. Good night, John.” You respond, curling closer. “Night, lovely.”

#john price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #john price x female reader #mw2 fanfic #call of duty mw2 #cod mwii #mw2 2022 #mw2 x you #mw2022 #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #price mw2 #| anjela wrote this 🕯️

[arminsfavoritepookie]

ROCKSTAR EREN

( How Rockstar Eren would treat his Girl..)

More Rockstar Eren hcs

More rockstar headcanons pt3

Rockstar Eren was a puzzle to most. A brusque exterior hid a man of undeniable talent, whose passion for music was reflected in the rough callouses on his fingertips. His long locks, typically tied back in a tight bun, were just as iconic as his gravelly voice, a voice that had captured the hearts of thousands of fans around the world. Yet, despite all his success, the outside world viewed him as nothing more than a stoned, talented fuckboy.

  But you knew the truth. 

You had seen past the façade, the walls that he had erected around himself. You knew that beneath it all, he was a soft-hearted, loving man who craved your touch and presence. In fact, he loved nothing more than cuddling with you after shows, basking in the warmth and comfort that only you could provide.

It was a side of him that few ever saw.  And then there were the tattoos. A myriad of silly doodles that littered his body, all drawn by you with a simple pen. They were small and simple but permanent— each held a special meaning, a symbol of your relationship in the future.

Forever.

Rockstar Eren would never admit it openly, but backstage, before a performance, he craved the comfort and support of your touch, the reassuring kiss of your lips. 

Despite what many might believe, Eren Jaeger had no love for smoking. In fact, he despised the very thought of it, except when he was dealing with crippling anxiety before a performance and you weren’t on tour with him.

He kept a blunt tucked away behind his ear at all times, just in case. Whenever he felt those pangs of unease start to gnaw at him, he would sneak away backstage, quickly sparking up the joint, throwing his head back and inhaling deeply. The cool smoke worked wonders on his frayed nerves, quelling the surge of emotion that threatened to overcome him.

Rockstar Eren was particular about the pictures he kept in his wallet, but none held more importance to him than the Polaroid of you. Whenever he was backstage, prepping for a show, he would take the time to study your image, to remind himself of the reasons why he was there, and to rekindle the flame of passion within him.

With the picture propped up on the counter beside him, Eren would light the joint and breathe in deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs, savouring the sharp burn in his throat before slowly exhaling. He lived for these moments, when he was all alone with his thoughts, with only the sweet smell of marijuana and the warmth of your smile to guide him through the turbulent emotions within him.

In those rare and private moments, Eren found a peace he couldn't attain any other way. That feeling, that euphoria that filled him to the brim, that's what kept him going through every trial and tribulation, every moment of doubt and self-loathing. With each puff of smoke and each passing moment, Eren felt more grounded, more connected to the world around him. And he knew that you were the reason for that.

He was a force of nature, and you were his muse, his source of strength and inspiration.  So while the outside world may view him as nothing more than a guitarist and a bad boy musician, you knew the truth. You knew the man behind the persona, the soft-hearted, loving man who was so deeply in love with you. And as long as you were his, he would continue to rock the world with his music, one soulful song at a time.

Rockstar Eren might never confess to being possessive. To him, the word feels almost negative, something that suggests an inability to trust others or to be secure in a relationship. But when it comes down to it, he is nothing if not possessive in his affections.  It's not even about jealousy, really, although that is certainly part of it.

When Eren sees you speaking with another man, his whole demeanor changes. His eyebrows furrow slightly, and his mouth settles into a tight line. He tries to keep it together, but his whole body tenses up with irritation.  Most of the time, he tries to be patient.

He knows that it's not reasonable to expect you to only ever speak with him, and he doesn't want to come off as needy or clingy. But it's hard. He can feel his patience slipping away with every moment that passes.  On occasion, he'll let the conversation run its course. He'll wait it out, gritting his teeth all the while. But more often than not, he can't help himself.

He interrupts you mid-sentence, desperate to insert himself into the conversation. He kisses you deeply—before dragging you away and peppering you with desperate pecks on the cheek. Afterwards, after your neck is littered in marks from his tantrum, he'll feel a twinge of shame at how needy he can be. He doesn't want to be that guy who always needs attention and affection, who can't handle seeing you give someone else even a shred of your time.

But at the same time, he just can't help it. When he's with you, he wants to be the only thing on your mind, the only one you focus your attention on.  It's kind of cute, in its own way, the way he gets all pouty and fidgety when he feels threatened.

Rockstar Eren had just finished a mind-blowing performance and his veins were pulsating with adrenaline. Despite all the post-show excitement, his mind could only focus on one thing - teaching you how to play guitar.

You both were lounging on the luxurious hotel bed, surrounded by an array of instruments. Eren gazed at you intently, imagining how gorgeous you would look playing his guitar.  Without hesitation, Eren wrapped his strong arms around your body, placing your back flush against his broad chest.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your ear as he gently positioned your fingers on the strings of the guitar. As you began to play, your eyes darted back and forth between the fretboard and Eren's piercing gaze, biting your lip in concentration. 

"Am I doing it right, Ren?" you asked tentatively, hoping to please him with your performance. The rockstar's cheeks flushed with admiration, his heart fluttering at the sight of you struggling to play the chords correctly. "You're doing great, baby," he whispered, the endearing nickname sending shivers down your spine.

"Just keep playing like that."

Rockstar Eren can only be defined as a munch. He finds complete joy in the art of pleasing a woman, and what better way to do so than with the delicate and exquisite act of going down on you?

Eren is so infatuated with eating you out he cannot, and will not, stop until the juices are dribbling down his chin and his jaw is sore. The sound of your needy whimpers just turn him on even more—he’s withering and humping into the mattress like a mad man trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly.

The way he has to pry open your thighs just to keep you from running away from the incredible sensation he provides, brings out a side of him that is nothing less than primal. When you tug on his hair in ecstasy, Eren knows he has reached a new level of arousal that cannot be contained.

Even when you dig your fingernails into his scalp, Eren still remains devoted to fulfilling every want and need of your pussy beneath him. For him, there is nothing more rewarding than to taste, feel, and making you quiver with satisfaction.

You felt so overstimulated, your breaths coming out in gasps. "Please ren, I can't anymore," you pleaded with tears streaming down your face. But he didn't seem to hear you. He kissed your thigh before devouring your pussy again.

"Not done with you yet baby, just a little bit more."

#aot fanfiction #aot x you #aot angst #aot x reader #attack on titan eren #eren jeager x you #eren jeager headcanons #eren x reader #eren x black reader smut #eren x black fem!reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren jeager x reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren smut #eren headcanons #eren jeager smut #eren yaeger x you #eren imagines #eren jeager imagines #eren drabble #eren yaeger x reader #eren jeager x y/n #eren fluff #eren aot #aot x poc!reader #aot x black reader

[byhees]

high-school boyfriend.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 1700 genre fluff established relationship high school au warnings not proof-read kissing skinship petnames mention of food, rain — more

a/n. revamped version ><

heeseung

even though you both aren’t in the same classes, he’d always try to spend as much time as possible with you; would often offer to walk you to your classes, despite his own being on the other end of campus; would walk you to and from school, even going as far as to take your usual bus to accompany you home— he’d be more than willing to take a detour, or four, for you; while walking you two might even take a break, and grab a few street snacks from nearby stalls.

if it were to rain, he’d tag along with you on your bus trip, wanting to keep you company— and to shield you from the downpour, because you had a tendency to forget your umbrella; playing little games with one another, because what better way to pass time than to carry out a raindrop race? “i bet two dollars that that raindrop will pass the finish line first”, and you’d be met with a, “hah, you’re so on. my bet’s on that one”; gawking at the window with such anticipation and excitement, unintentionally making brief eye contact with passers-by.

him draping his school blazer over your shoulders, so that you’d be warm in the midst of the chilly rain; “what’re you—“, and in an instant, he’d cut you off with, “nope, nope, no protests, baby”.

would purposely bump into you in hallways, just so he can say, “oh wow! not even fate can separate us from one another, babe”.

jongseong

a little bit clumsy and forgetful, but he’s got the spirit! the type to go “huh, we had homework?” right before the teacher enters the classroom; being the very loving, amazing, stunning girlfriend that you are, you’d give him gentle reminders of the upcoming examinations and assignments.

little ‘tutoring’ sessions in the library; well, if you could consider giggling over absolutely nothing and doodling random animals on the side of your workbooks, tutoring?

would proudly show off his little bento boxes after every cooking club session; “look, babe! this is what we made earlier today, pretty cool, aye?”; and when you happen to forget your lunchbox, he’d scoot over to you, offering you half of his metal tiffin with a small smile. “good thing i made extras this morning! want a bite? i even got your favourites!”; is willing to give you his portion in a heartbeat. “don’t worry about me! i can manage, y’know? it’s more important that you’re well fed! after all, you’ll be busy later on, right bubs?”

jaeyun

given his love for maths, he would definitely have some liking towards little math-related pickup lines— in fact, he would’ve went out of his way to search ‘lines to absolutely blow my girlfriend away with my charms’; funny thing is that you’d actually get flustered over them.. one example would be the infamous 128 √e980 question; he’d ask you, in a very inconspicuous way, to solve it, no explanations given— and when you gaze at him with full-blown confusion, he’d cover half the expression, the words ‘i love you’ staring back at you.

the type to create weird code-names for practically everyone— shares it with you, and only you, because he likes the specialness of it; it’s a unique little way of communication that you two have.

would buy an extra portion of his usual sandwich, and leave it by your tabletop; “breakfast is very important, babe. can’t leave it out, m’kay?” he’d say, draping an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side.

would plant little kisses on your cheek before parting for class; “don’t miss me too much, baby!” he’d chime, a cheeky smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

sunghoon

would, very coincidentally, forget his textbooks nearly every day; he’d often come up to you with a pair of pleading doe eyes, and go, “babe..? i kinda need to borrow that calculus book again..”— it genuinely leaves you wondering if he comes to school empty-handed; whenever he hands the book back to you, he’d always mention one page in particular— “make sure you flip to page 233, okay?”; every time you do so, you wind up seeing a piece of folded-up paper tucked between the pages. unfolding it, it’d read something like ‘i love you my little mcmuffin’, or ‘it seems that you get impossibly more beautiful every single day’. alternatively, he’d do something like a post-it puzzle, where each post-it would be a part of a big picture.

would doodle little drawings on the corners of your notebooks; it might be a small portrait of you, it might also be a shaky drawing of shrek, you never know.

loves giving you his hoodies because he finds that you look really endearing in his oversized clothes; a bonus if his name is embroidered in the corner of the outerwear— never fails to bring a little smile to his face.

sunoo

would be a little more shy in terms of his expressions of love; definitely the type to buy subtle matching accessories, like rings or bracelets, because he thinks that they’re pretty cute— gets ones that he thinks would compliment you the best.

has a whole candy, or chocolate, supply in the front pocket of his backpack, because he knows that you love snacking on little snacks when stressed; slides it on your table with a small smile— “here… for you, love”, and you’d simply melt right then and there.

the type to embrace you from behind, and nuzzle his nose into the nape of your neck, a bashful grin playing on the corners of his lips; “good luck for your exam, love”, he’d mumble, eliciting a soft giggle from you.

jungwon

is so, so clingy; practically misses you 24/7, without fail. and he isn’t one to hide this, despite being in the middle of a class— in fact, he’s so criminally unsubtle with it as well; he’d be staring at your direction for ten minutes straight, clearly standing out from the rest of the class, whose heads are turned to face the whiteboard; gets caught by the teacher, and makes excuses like “oh, there’s a gigantic bee near the window”; would shamelessly pass notes to you in class— whispers to his seat partners to “give it to yn, please”. they’d probably say ‘i miss you so much, i can’t even concentrate’, or something along the lines of ‘were you formed by water eroding rocks over billions of years? because you are GORGE-ous’.

shares his earphones with you during lunch, or when you both are waiting for a bus by the bus stop; makes cute little playlists for you— titles them as words that remind him of you, like ‘pretty’.

has a habit of linking arms with you; being little menaces and walking down the hallways that way— “i’ll walk you to literature, how about that?” he’d ask, flashing a sweet smile, dimples making an appearance.

riki

loves to bother you like it’s his favourite pastime; is seated right behind you in nearly every class, and so, he has the very amazing privilege to tease and bother you infinitely; “hey babe,” he’d lean forward, tapping you on your shoulder. following which, he’d tilt his head, leaning close to reduce the proximity between your faces. he’d then whisper into your ear, “wingardium leviosa”— and he’d just shuffle back to his seat, as though nothing had happened.

likes stealing your stationery, because he lowkey finds that irritated pout of yours, adorable; purposely holds it high up above his head, arm outstretching towards the ceiling, because he’s well aware of your height difference— another point to tease you with.

has a habit of planting soft kisses on your forehead— loves the way the corners of your eyes crinkle, and the way your lips curve up in the wake of a grin; loves resting his head on your shoulder because it makes him feel at ease.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

#૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა ? #kflixnet #enhanet #k labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enha fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha drabble #enha reactions #enha headcanons #enha soft thoughts #enha soft hours #heeseung fluff #jay fluff #jongseong fluff #jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunoo fluff #jungwon fluff #niki fluff #riki fluff

[nothomegal]

Broo please Hear me out.. how would y/n react to pyramid Head/pyra giving them a paper flower??

(i bet pyra saw some survivor make a paper flower and just watched how they made it so he could make one for you cause like there's no actual flowers in silent hill)

Aww that's so sweet! Hope you don't mind if I respond with a lil' fic instead of a messy doodle 😅 I just have so many things to say!

"Little flower"

(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Warnings: none, just fluff!

World count: 1.6k

—"What you're thinking about, big guy?"—

The voice of his human awokened the monster out if his erratic state. By the look on (Y/N)'s face, it seems like they've been trying to get his attention for a little while.

—“Is everything alright?"—

He let out a short metallic clank and nodded ones.

—“Just zoned out I see.”— you chuckle as you lean against his broad shoulder. —“I was daydreaming too, but had to stop when someone began to squeeze me a bit too much."— you add.

Squeeze-? Oh, right. The beast was currently walking through a corridor of the building they've unofficially turned into their home. Only that, Pyra was the one moving. (Y/N) meanwhile was being carried by the monster, their body effortlessly supported and held closely by one massive arm of their lover, whose grip was a bit too tight at that moment.

The two of them were silent most of the walk, just enjoying the presence of the other one. But the quietness was interrupted when (Y/N) softly hummed.

—"Have I ever told you you're very handsome?"— you playfully say as you look at his pyramid shaped helmet.

(Y/N) couldn't hide their grin, not when their lover lowered his head down as if he got flustered. Only when a small giggle escaped them is when Pyra squeezed them against himself, causing them to laugh instead.

—"Alright alright, I get it. No saying pretty things about the big scary Pyramid Head."—

Pyra doesn't react to their comment, at first. But soon a quiet little growl would slip from inside his helmet as he moves it to then gently nuzzle one of the edges against them. (Y/N) giggles again, and responds to the gesture by running one hand along the rough metallic surface of their lover's head.

Pyra's been acting very clingy since he had returned. A few hours prior he had left abrubtly, leaving his little human all confused. Despite being a tag startled, (Y/N) wasn’t too concerned, probably his duty as an executioner and punisher of Silent Hill calling. But imagine their surprise that when as soon as he came back, instead of a usual greeting like nuzzling his helmet against them or licking their cheek, the monster simply yoinked them up and began to walk with them in his arms.

The whole time their walk lasted, (Y/N) couldn't stop thinking about what Pyra could have in mind. They've been his for a long time already and know that things never happen out of the blue with him, there is always some sort a reason for everything he does. Though some could be quite... Silly or small, maybe straight up petty. (like when they were 'too tolerant' with a Creeper, a fucking bug. Jeez they probably were carried and manhandled like a rag-doll for a week-)

They zone back in when Pyra suddenly stops and gently sets them back on their feet. (Y/N) eyes the room curiously, but it seemed to have nothing out of the ordinary or special, just another abandoned room of Silent Hill.

—"So... You want to chill in here for..."—

Their voice quietens when the beast suddenly sticks the sword into the floor and stalks towards one of the few furnitures the room had. (Y/N) observes him in silence, curiosuty slowly morphing in confussion when they witness their lover open and take something from the inside. Huh? Okay... That's something new.

And the silence remains even when the monster turns back and begins to make his way towards them.

The executioner is known for his brutality and determination, never backing away or leaving his victim be, always hunting them down and providing the scariest of the punishments...

This is how everyone viewed him. Viewed it.

(Y/N)? They already seen a side of him that no mortal or creature could ever imagine, but it seems like such side had corners yet to reveal.

When close enough, Pyra reaches for (Y/N)'s hand and brings it towards himself, their palm facing up. Then, he places...

—"...!?"—

(Y/N)'s breath shakes a little and eyes wide when they see what was placed on their hand.

Flowers. Paper flowers.

The time seemed to freeze and reality fade away. (Y/N) couldn't believe their eyes. Pyra... Pyramid Head himself, just gave them a gift?...

They take in the apparence of said gift. The flowers weren't perfect, more like a bunch of scrunched paper shaped the best it can be into a flower. But even if the result wasn't the most perfect, the effort and care put into these was reflected... Wait, did...

(Y/N) slowly drags their gaze towards the monster, who was standing in front of them completely still.

...Did he made these?

...For them?

The silence was suffocating. (Y/N) remained frozen in place, their eyes now directed again to the flowers but their gaze seemed lost. The beast remained just as still, even his breathing got quieter.

Pyra is known for his steel composure. He never experienced anything like fear or anxiety. If anything, he is the sourse of these. But now? Now he's probably feeling something of this for the first time of his existence. Was that a bad decision? Did he reopened the already scarred wounds by reminding (Y/N) of the real world and the fact that they've been gone for so long? That they will never return to see the real flowers and life without him going absolutelly ballistic about it?

Maybe it is, maybe it was a bad idea... But the attempt was worth it, right?... They always observed the few pictures and paintings of nature with such fond eyes, trying to take in and store that little piece of landscape into their memory. They always showed particular likeness to flowers, sometimes drawing those and commenting which are their favorites. He never really got the point of these though, but (Y/N) liked them so it had to be important.

Only when he witnessed some unfortunate newcomer making some using paper, is when he really started to think about it. And after seeing how (Y/N) perked up when they saw yet another landscape drawing, something just snapped inside of him and he knew he had to take action.

And now, seeing how still his human is, he really began to second guess his decision. They must be dissapointed with the results, he had to try harder and be more careful... But it's so damn hard to fold the paper without breaking it with these damn huge hands of his-.

The sudden sensation of arms wrapping tightly around his waist pulled the monster out of his thoughts. Pyra tilts his helmet down, looking at (Y/N), who's face was hidden in his chest. Their shoulders would shake at times and a muffled huff would come out... Are... Arethey sobbing?

Pyra of course tensed, clearly affected by seeing his lover cry. But when (Y/N) lifted their head and looked up at him...

—"Thank you... Thank you so much...!"—

Yes, there were tears in their eyes... And so the shine of absolute hapiness and gratitude, so pure that it resembled the eyes of an angel, at least to him.

—"I-... It's just-..."— you let out a small chuckle as you struggle to put your thoughts and emotions into words. —"It's just... No one ever did something so... So loving and special for me."—

(Y/N) falls silent again as they snuggle closer to Pyra, most likely realizing that no ammount of words could express just how thankful they were. As they're clinging to their lover like a lifeline, they feel his body slowly relax and then contract just enough for him to wrap his arms around their form, hugging them back.

They stayed like this for a good ammount of minutes, just holding each other while (Y/N) spoke time to time, gifting Pyra with their lovely voice and more gratitude. It's a small thing, yes, but for (Y/N) is huge. Especially because a creature who never even concerned itself with such silly meaningless things like flowers made it, putting its time and effort into the gift for them.

When it became clear that the snuggles wouldn't end anytime soon, (Y/N)'s body is suddenly lifted into the air and swung over a shoulder to then be carried towards the closest wall. Despite being manhandled, (Y/N) couldn't stop smiling and would often giggle as they're transported like a sack of potatos. It's a bit of a contrast with the usual gentleness their partner handles them. But hey, Pyra's allowed to have some fun too!

They're both soon settled down, embracing each other once again. Pyra sitting and leaning against the wall while (Y/N) is cofortably nestled on his lap and against his chest. They observe the paper flowers, fingers carefully tracing along the imperfect petals that they're looking at with such love-filled eyes.

—"They're beautuful, really. You're very talented."—

A small rumbling groan escapes from Pyra's helmet as he tights his grip around them.

—"I'm serious! You're an amazing artist!"— you exclaim. —"Just look! Your hands and strenght have the triple of my size and power yet you still managed to make it look like a flower! Bet If I tried to make one it would end up looking like some cursed paper mess."—

He groans, clearly disagreeing with their statement. (Y/N) simply sighs with a giggle.

—"If you don't believe me then we could try to make some more later."— you cassually comment.

Pyra remains quiet, thinking. Eventually he makes a noise and dips his head in a small nod, agreeing with the suggestion. (Y/N) smiles, their eyes sparkling with excitement and joy, as genuine as from a little kid. 

The monster would definitely smile if he had a face for it. He haven't seen (Y/N) this bright and alive ever since they realized their feelings for each other are mutual.

Looks like his assumptions were right, flowers indeed are important for his human if it made them feel like this.

To be honest...

He kinda likes them too now.

#nothomegal ask reply #nothomegal fic #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #gn reader #pyramid head x y/n #slasher fluff

[tiyoin]

Taking a step back from twisted singer reader (I'll be back). I really want to expand/give origins ideas to the group chat(s?). Like how reader got the phone, how they got added and other things. Btw love who added that

With that said I'm starting a new agenda: ✨Grandfather Mozus Trein :D✨ Everyone knows that Crowley is *cough* neglectful & irresponsible *cough* always there for his students and never once put himself first 🤠. I feel like reader low-key reminds Trein of Anastasia (red hair) ya know? Maybe it's how reader plays with their hair when they start getting bored or the doodles on the written exams. All these little habits they share. Just an old man missing his family.

Someone has to be a responsible adult for reader and who else is better then a father with so much wisdom. He knows Yuu has a way of communicating and protecting himself so he isn't as concerned ,but poor reader can't do that to save their life :(

So I can see Trein giving them(mostly reader) a phone (B4 book 4). It's nothing new or special; it has an old blue case with a fading pattern and skuffs. The best part about it is Trein paying the bill. The wallpaper is changed to Grimm napping tho

It's kinda an unspoken rule that reader keeps it for the most part. With Yuu and all the things he tends to get into it would last a week if he was lucky.

More then likely the only numbers in the phone are Aduce/ maybe the other first years and Trein ,but I don't really see any of them be texters tbh. So not much coming in. Maybe a few homework questions??

As for apps a see maybe 2-ish games 👁️👄➖

Over all, it's just a classic antisocial person's phone. Until Cater finds out. Next time Yuu has the phone Carter tells him what should be added and how to #sign up for them. And Yuu being the person he is asks "Cater how do I help my introvert make friends?" Cater being the #helpful upperclassmen is he downloads the app and sends the invite.

The app they use is probably the twst discord. I think that's the only social idia has/honestly uses Some of them has like a cover for the icon. Like no one can know they use that app for whatever reason.

Everyone besides reader kinda knows what account belongs to which person. To add a bit of anonymous(ness?). Cuz no way would reader give her honest opinion about Rook or someone else if she knew that they themselves/close friends are in the chat.

Imagine if one of the guys that reader doesn't get along with ends up being one of reader's close/safe online friend. Like idk if you know who Aphmau is but she has a Minecraft roleplay PDH (don't judge me plss) where Aph and Aaron don't like each other irl but are really close online friends.

I'm sorry if my asks tend to be all over the place. I get sided tracked a lot and end up spacing out every 10 works. This was written between 3-5ish am. Also 👉👈 I think the reason we're on the same brain wave is cuz we're air signs.

Also thank you for liking/replying to my ask/yapping ☺️ it's means a lot to me

I've been waiting to get a Mac charger just to answer this ask🤭

GRANDFATHER TREIN IS SOMETHING I DID NOT KNOW I NEEDED BUT GLAD I GOT

because we always see crewel v crowley for custody over yuu.

but I defiantly agree with you that trein would see one of his daughters; especially anastasia in reader. whether it's by a few habits they both share, or how they're sometimes second fiddle to their more out going companion. but trein can see reader's life falling into shambles the more they're in twisted wonderland, the more they're isolated, and it kills him as both a father and educator.

and believe it or not, he cares about his students. they may not think so and curse him in the hallways, but they'll be thanking him in years to come, they always do (he prides himself in that, and the line of students he has at reunions telling him they're the best teacher they ever had.)

so maybe he pulls reader aside after class, ofc he can tell how tense they are, how nervous they are... especially by how intense their eye contact is, a little creepy but trein understands. he tells them to sit down in a chair he magically spawned as he flicks his head at lucien. who is all too glad to use you as a chair. he can see reader visibly relax as they're testing the water's with the temperamental feline, but trein starts talking.

he wants to help them, as he wouldn't be doing his job as an educator if he just stood by and watched you struggle. how he would have failed the pledge he made to crowley and himself if he let one os his students fall under the radar in favor for his smarter ones.

yes that should sting but it's the truth, and to no fault of your own. you obviously had... less than stupor teaching before this, and you have to catch up on a decades worth of stuff due to your... situation. and he is willing to help you during both lunch hours and free period. he also recommends student tutors for this and is willing to work out some kind of deal between you and the tutors. he wants to see you succeed. not just to prove he can turn a pumpkin into a carriage, but because you deserve it.

maybe you're not so much like his biological daughter, but like his step daughter. the one with a soul of diamond but a heart of glass. and if reader ever needs someone trustworthy (and he emphasizes this) that isn't actively split-dying their hair in their thirties or prances around with a bird mask then he is always open.

no matter how burdenous they feel relying on him, or if they think the matters are silly. he will tell it to them straight. he also suggests talking to cater diamond of heartslabyul, that if anyone can help you make friends, its that chatterbox.

dont even try to refute it cause trein AND lucien will be sporting you an unimpressed look.

but I swear to everything cater has a fucking NOSE- a sniffer if you would for introverts. or he has mastered chenya's invisibility spell and over heard your conversation because- I AGREE WITH YOU- yuu would 100% ask cater to help his little ol' introvert make friends.

so he seeks them out, grabs their phone while chatting away, and downloads 'magi cord' dw yuu is there too. cater even goes a step further and adds his contact to their phone because 'tehe he has the elusive reader's number and no body else does! #1inamillion #hewon! #he'sgonnaextrovertsohardit'llmakeyourheadspin 😼

but later that night you're fighting to go on the app when cater sends you a link, the second message he sends you (with 'hey hey! it's your fav upper classmen cay-cay here!' with an obnoxious amount of emojis, being the first)

it's a link to a magi cord group chat called; raven of secrets. (or smthn idk, I pulled that out of my ass) and he explains that the whole point of that group chat is to remain anonymous. there's a handful of members from different dorms and that's all you're supposed to know.

they talk about gossip, homework, assignments etc. the more he talks about it the more it sounds like a secret society. but nonetheless, you join.

and all hell breaks loose 🤭

personally I think that only a few people know who is who in the chat group. like the organizer because they gotta make sure everyone who has the link is an nrc student. and obviously there's a few friends who gave other people the link or joined together. but there's also active polls where people debate who is who.

just so it gives them the extra comfort of anonymity.

IMAGINE SOME ADMITS TO STALKING POOR READER AND IT TURNS INTO A THRILLER AHHHH (everyone knows who rook is. not because of his French, but because of his detailed posts)

--

NO CAUSE I WAS ALSO AN APHMAU FAN HAHAHAH I used to eat her role plays up. but watching them now... they're super cringe and I can barely watch an episode of phoenix drop high 😭

and dont even worry about it 'being all over the place because I am literally like that and it's so fun being able to bounce all over the place hehe

AND YAY ANOTHER AIR SIGN😽

#mel <3 #twisted anxiety 🌀 #tiyoin 🔎 #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #tiyoin’s cuties 。 ඞ 。 #twisted wonderland #twst

[urfavstargirl1]

You change your look and Eddie notices

What you wouldn't give to have Eddie Munson notice you. Well he noticed you, but not in that way.

You weren’t exactly friends with Eddie, but after having shared a few classes this year and assigned seats next to each other in English, you’d become very close…acquaintances. At least that’s how you’d describe your relationship with Eddie.

You and Eddie talked a lot in class. And sure, you came to know some pretty personal things about the other, but it’s not like you were ever seen together outside of class.

Would you have liked to? The answer would have unequivocally been yes, but you didn’t think he felt the same way. Did he show some signs that might have indicated otherwise? Possibly.

He casually touched your hand or arm or shoulder on multiple occasions. He whispered jokes in your ear in class a few times. He always complimented the doodles you made in the margins of your notebook. And he even invited you to come see his band play, but in such a nonchalant way you never thought he was serious.

Even then, you reasoned that he was just the kind of guy that had a flirty personality. It wasn’t special for you. There’s no way he could ever like you back. No one ever did.

And it was obvious he had the hots for Chrissy Cunningham. For someone so vocally against the system, he sure did stand in line with every other guy in school to crush on Hawkins High’s head cheerleader.

Chrissy was a sweet girl though. You didn’t know her well, but you had a class with her last year and heard a few stories about her. She seemed nice enough. She was always kind to others and kept to herself for the most part. Who wouldn’t like a girl like that?

You hold nothing against her, but when you face the facts, you know you’re nothing like her.

You’re not girly and sweet in the same way she is. You’re not petite and cute the way she is. And you’re definitely not some heaven sent angel Eddie and every other boy at school make her out to be. Which explains why Eddie could never look at you the way he looks at her.

If you were honest, you know Eddie and Chrissy would be a cute couple together, especially in that opposites attract kind of way. But that leaves you where you’ve always been: alone.

You knew you weren’t a princess, but you weren’t exactly a brain or an athlete or a criminal or a basket case either.

Who were you? You were still figuring it out for yourself, but one thing you knew for sure was that you weren’t wanted.

Sometimes it’s easy to act like it doesn’t bother you. Like you prefer to be alone, which most times you do, but other times you don’t.

It hurts to not be chosen. It hurts to not be desired. It hurts to be rejected. So it’s safer to pretend like you don’t even want it at all. Like you don’t even care.

But when everyone in your friend group is in a relationship or has already been in one before except you, that was the last straw.

Was something wrong with you? Was there some big sign on your forehead everyone else saw but you saying please run away? You’d had crushes before but they always ended up with someone else or only ever seeing you as a friend

Something had to give.

But what could you do? Put on some coy flirtatious act? Maybe. It would be challenging, but would it even be genuine?

You could try putting yourself out there a bit more. That could be a start.

Maybe you could do what Sandy did in your favorite movie, Grease. Yes it was cliche and very extreme, but a little makeover here and there might help.

And suddenly you had a plan. A plan to get peoples attention? Not exactly. But more like a plan to find yourself, improve your confidence, and hopefully… attract the right people from that point on.

So you put your plan into action. Day by day you made a small change. One day you started wearing mascara. The next you tried talking to the cute boy next to you in the lunch line.

As then days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, you became utterly unrecognizable.

Your hair was down. You even cut it and dyed it a darker color. You wore more makeup. Sometimes you wore red lipstick or eyeliner or did a Smokey eyeshadow look.

You wore darker, more form fitting clothes. You sometimes wore leather pants. You wore more jewelry along your ears, neck, wrists, and fingers. You even started wearing more dresses and skirts. Sometimes you’d even compliment your outfits with a pair of fishnet tights underneath.

You still had your glasses and that bad habit of biting your lip a little too hard when you were concentrating. But now you stood a little taller, back arched and chest protruding.

Your hips swayed when you walked. You smiled more. You talked slower and with a slightly higher pitch in your voice. You even made direct eye contact.

Pretty soon, boys from the basketball team started flirting with you. Boys in the school band would get nervous around you. Boys in your classes would wink at you when passing a paper back.

People would glance at you in the hall or at lunch. Some would smile and a few would even check you out.

Boys would pass notes with you in class or give you their number when they saw you studying alone in the library.

You got asked out on several dates which was more than you were even expecting.

For kicks, you took a few guys up on the offer. You went out for ice cream with a tuba player from the schools band. You went to watch the newest sci-fi movie with a boy from mathletes. You even got taken out to dinner once by a boy on the swim team.

But after so many dates, it turned out a lot of the boys at school you once had a crush on or were even remotely interested were actually boring or mean or just not that good of a fit.

You could admit, the attention was nice. And the experience was giving you confidence. But at the the end of the day, the only boy in school you wanted the time of day from was still uninterested.

But at least after all was said and done, that shy lonely girl was long gone. Or so you thought.

One day, you decided to take Eddie up on one of his promises to sell you discounted weed.

You met him up after school in the woods in that clearing behind the school’s track and field.

That day, you wore a bit more makeup than usual. Not for him though. You just had plans to go out with your friends and this was a pit stop along the way.

“Wow, you look…” he says as he scans your body. You were wearing a maroon dress with fishnet tights, boots, and a Jean jacket.

For the first time in months, the gesture makes you shudder, almost wanting to crawl out of your skin.

You thought you wanted Eddie to notice you, but not like this.

“Really committing to the new look huh,” he asks in confusion.

Heat starts to boil in your veins.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you say sheepishly, having intended to say it with more confidence.

“No, no it’s not. I kinda like it actually. I’m just… confused is all,” he says as he sits along the bench across from you.

“What’s there to be confused about?”

“It’s just so… different.”

You huff as you sit across from him, not ready to have this conversation despite the way it’s already unraveling itself.

“Different from before?”

“Yeah,” he nods, wavy hair shaking lightly over his shoulders.

“Well no one ever really looked at me before,” you sheepishly say, looking to the side. “Figured change could be a good thing.”

What is happening right now? How is talking to Eddie like this ripping away the layers of the cool and confident exterior you’ve spent so much time curating?

Is the facade truly that thin that all it takes is a quick comment to make it all come crashing down, leaving nothing but that shy insecure girl from before?

He jerks his head back, “what?”

You look at him in confusion.

“Is that what this is about?”

Heat rises to your cheeks. All this effort you thought was finally paying off only leaves you feeling ridiculous.

“I looked at you before,” he says with sincerity, searching between your eyes.

You look at him skeptically, narrowing your eyes and creasing your brows. “No you didn’t. Chrissy Cunningham maybe, but not me.”

Eddie sighs, “Can I level with you for a sec?”

You look at him with wide eyes, unsure of what his next words might be.

“I admit, there’s been times when I’ve thought about Chrissy, but never in the way I thought about you.”

“C’mon Eddie, you don’t have to say that,” you wave a hand, almost refusing to take him seriously.

“I’m not just saying that sweetheart, I mean it. Have you really never noticed?”

He places his hands flat against the wooden table top and leans forward, looking her square in the eye.

“I… I might’ve noticed. But you kind of act that way towards everyone. How was I supposed to know it meant something different for me?”

“I guess that’s where I kinda fucked up,” Eddie laughs.

You smile nervously, unsure if this is some crazy dream you’re stuck in.

“To be honest, I’ve liked you for a long time, I just didn’t think you’d ever be into some freak like me,” he says, scratching his head.

You raise your eyebrows, “That’s absurd. Almost absurd that you would like me. But even more absurd to think I wouldn’t like a freak like you.”

Eddie slightly gasps, searching into your eyes, looking for an ounce of sincerity. When he finds it, he looks at you questioningly.

“Are you still,” he raises his brows. You search between his eyes.

You look at him unsure. Admitting this feels like walking into a trap.

“Is this new version of you… would she still be into a freak like me?”

Your heart starts racing. All confidence out the window now.

“‘Cause I know that I liked the girl you were before,” he starts and you sigh.

If he really liked the girl you were before, wouldn’t he have made a move?

“But I also like the girl you are now. Whoever you want to be, whoever you are, I’m into it,” he says with a smile.

You look over your shoulder and back at him, “Eddie, if you liked the girl I was before, why didn’t you ever give her a chance?”

Eddie’s eyes turn down, “Because I was an idiot. I could see how great of a person you are, but I was too much of a coward to ever do anything about it.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“And most of all, I was afraid of being rejected. I could take rejection from Chrissy or any other girl at this school, but I don’t think I could take it from you.”

“Really,” you ask, searching into his eyes.

“Yeah, I mean… you’re beautiful and smart and funny. You have killer taste in music and movies. In what world could I ever deserve a girl like that,” Eddie says breathlessly.

You look down and sheepishly smile. You can't believe Eddie is sitting here in front of you just proclaiming his admiration.

You thought you were alone in your insecurity and your fear of rejection, but turns out you’re not.

"I like you too Eddie, 'freak' or not."

Eddie smiles, heart beaming just for her.

“What do you say? Why don’t we skip the deal. You can smoke for free, back at my place.”

You smile and crinkle your nose as you furrow your brows, “ Is this your way of asking me on a date Munson?”

The look of mortification on his face is priceless. “Uh, yeah I mean… if you… maybe—“

“Look Eddie, I’m gonna stop you right there. I made plans with my friends tonight and I’m not gonna bail on them. Kinda why I came to you for this in the first place," you say, gesturing to his black tin box.

"Oh, right," Eddie says as he opens the box. You make the exchange and look him in the eye.

"How about this? Come to me on Monday with a real date idea and then we’ll see.” You say, confidence coming back full force, practically dripping off your tongue.

After having gone on so many dates, you had gotten a better idea of how you should be treated. You wanted to be with someone that respected you and cared for you and put in the effort to be with you. Plenty of guys had shown you that before, and Eddie should be no different, but you had to know just to be sure.

“Oh ok,” he says, taken aback by your response but eager to fulfill your request, hope coursing his veins.

“Think maybe over the weekend, if I come up with a few ideas, I can call you. Run ‘em by you?”

You smirk at him, “You can give me your number, and if I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a call before Monday.”

You’ve never seen Eddie scramble so fast to find a piece of paper and anything that could be used to write before.

You giggle as he writes in chicken scratch handwriting his phone number.

“I’ll be free tomorrow ni—“

“I’ll call you when I call you Munson. You made me wait the whole school year for this, I think you can stand to wait a whole weekend,” you say as you retrieve the paper from him and stand up.

He rushes to get up and walk over to you. “Oh yeah, sorry... Can I at least walk you back?”

“Sure,” you smile at him.

As you make your way over to the student parking lot, you feel a guilty pleasure at seeing his nervousness.

"You really do look beautiful Y/N. Always have been. But even now. I'm sorry if I ever made you think otherwise."

"Its ok," you nod. And it really is.

Something you've learned from this whole charade was that you were the real trophy here. You were the prize to be won, whether anybody saw it or not. You were always the real treasure, and you’d be damned if anybody treated you otherwise.

But you have a good feeling Eddie knows this. Like he'll treat you the way you always deserved.

Your friends are gathered by a station wagon and you smile.

"That's me," you say as you stop and look at Eddie.

"Oh ok," he say disappointedly.

"Hang around your phone this weekend, okay?" You smile as you reach forward and place a hand on his bicep.

You lean forward and whisper in his ear, squeezing his bicep as you say, "I stay up late."

You place a gentle kiss on his cheek and pull away, leaving behind a stunned Eddie Munson.

"Bye Eddie," you call out as you skip over to your friends.

He sheepishly waves, barely processing your actions before he can even properly react.

There's no way the person you were before would ever do anything like that, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he couldn't wait to get to know you more. He wanted to see every side of you and hope you want to see every side of him too.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfic #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #urfavstargirl1

[friendship-ditch]

Your muse

(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀

Summary: Your girlfriend Katniss loves to read your poems, so you write one just for her.

Warnings/Note: None! As fluffy as Katniss’s hair

Word Count: 1386

The house was quiet with the new morning, the only consistent noise being the gentle patter of rain on the windows and the soft scratch of a pencil. Somewhere in the kitchen the sink dripped.

You were sitting at the desk in the study, notepad on the surface and pencil in hand. You were scribbling light words across the paper and humming softly. When the words stopped coming to you, you would doodle for a few moments until they came back.

The front door cracked open and you heard the stomp of wet boots being abandoned by the doorway.

“I’m back!” Katniss called in a soft tone. You could hear her walk into the kitchen and set something on the table, most likely some bird. “Y/n?”

“In the study!” You called back. Normally you’d get up and rush over to her but the waterfall of words was pouring from your brain to the paper and you didn’t want to lose it.

Katniss chuckled from the kitchen. Soon she came into the room, her wet hair free from its braid and her shirt a little damp from the rain. She’d discarded her jacket and cleaned up a little though there was a smudge of dirt across her forehead.

“New work?” Katniss stood behind your chair, her hands on your shoulders. She peered at the paper which you promptly covered and pushed away.

“Nu-uh, it’s not good.” You tilted your head back, looking up at her. The two of you exchanged a gentle kiss.

With a soft sigh, Katniss leaned against your chair a little more, arms sliding around your neck in a gentle embrace. “Come on.” She whined. Her fingers raked through your hair in loving strokes and she rested her chin on top of your head. “You know I love your work.”

“You love the final draft. I never let you see the work-in-progress version because it’s shit.” You said. You planted your hand firmly overtop the paper. “Plus, this one’s special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah.”

“Well now I’m even more intrigued.” Katniss kissed the top of your head. “Come on, come lay in the living room.”

With a roll of your eyes and a smile, you grabbed your notepad and followed Katniss out toward the living room. You plopped down on the couch and got settled while Katniss changed her shirt. Thunder had started to rumble outside and the rain was coming down a little harder.

You picked the notepad up and flipped to a new page. Nothing you wrote down was exactly what you wanted or nearly as perfect as you had hoped. You couldn’t show it to Katniss like this, not yet.

Katniss came back in a dry t-shirt, though her hair was still damp. She nudged your hands from the pillow in your lap and laid her head there instead.

“How was hunting?” You smiled down at her, setting the paper aside and tucking the pencil behind your ear. You moved one hand to stroke her damp hair, pulling a few leaves out and craning through the dark locks to work out the knots from her early morning hunt.

Katniss relaxed under your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“It was alright…” she mumbled softly, content under your touch. “The woods are slippery in heavy rains like this, I nearly fell into that stupid ravine again.” She chuckled, laying off your concern with a shake of her head. “One of my snares caught the pheasant.”

You smiled once more, moving your hand from the end of her hair up to her scalp, still stroking like you would a cat. Katniss let out a soft purr-like noise as if to play along with your thoughts and the two of you giggled.

“I was worried. I woke up and you were gone.” You scolded her in an affectionate tone. “Or… you left earlier than usual, at least.”

“I wanted to beat the rain, I wasn’t so lucky.” Katniss flipped so she was laying on her back and looking up at you with warm gray eyes. She reached a gentle hand up and brushed her fingers against your cheek. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Oh, I’m pissed.” You shook your head with a teasing smile, setting your palm on the side of her face in return. You wiped the dirt smudge from her forehead. “No, I’m not mad. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Katniss grinned a little. “I’m fine. But I’d be better if you’d show me that poem you’re working on.” She said.

“Come on, Katniss, it’s awful.” You shook your head once more, gently pressing your finger into the tip of her nose, then just gently trailing your thumb down the side of her nose and under her eye. “Art takes time.”

“Nothing you make is awful.” She insisted, shaking her head. “Just let me see, maybe I can help.”

You both laughed at that.

Although Katniss was amazing at speeches and using the right words to motivate others, she wasn’t the best at using her words for things other than that, especially not art.

“Not yet.” You replied. “Patience, Katniss.”

“Ugh, you’re so stubborn.” She complained and rolled over to lay on her stomach again, burying her face into the pillow in your lap.

You chuckled again and ruffled her hair. You placed the notepad on her back and started writing once more, a sudden wave of inspiration hitting you.

About an hour later, you finally finished. You tore the paper out of the notepad and reread it with a proud smile.

Katniss, who had fallen asleep, stirred awake at your sudden movement. She blinked sleepily at you, those gray eyes of hers full of curiosity.

“Did you finish?” She asked, voice still hoarse from sleep.

“Mhm..” You scanned the paper again as if you were a little hesitant. This poem was different from the other ones you’d written and you were a little nervous to share it with her.

Katniss sat up and when you were finally ready, gingerly plucked the paper from your hands.

You waited quietly as she read it.

This poem was about Katniss. You’d written about her a lot in your poetry but it was never very obvious or clear, usually just subtle hints. This time you didn’t bother to hide it in the subtext, it was clear as day. Katniss was always your muse and you figured it was time to let her know.

When she finished reading the poem, Katniss set it in her lap and read it once more, then set it aside so she wouldn’t wrinkle the delicate paper. Her hand wrapped around yours and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

“Y/n, I..” Her voice caught in her throat and she blushed at the little squeak that came out through her lips. Katniss had a hard time believing others even tolerated her, so to read what was essentially a profession of your love on paper was groundbreaking for her already fragile mind that you’d so carefully put back together.

Your cheeks flushed a light shade of crimson as well and you couldn’t help but smile. “Is.. it okay? Or is it too cheesy?”

“It’s perfect.” Katniss managed to say with a teary smile. She wiped her face and then just flung herself at you, arms catching around your torso and face burying into your chest. “It’s… it’s not true, but it’s perfect.”

You shook your head, laying down on the couch with her cradled in your arms. “It’s very true. Every bit of it.” You murmured, kissing her forehead and giving her a tight squeeze.

“You’re going to make me cry.” Katniss whimpered as if she wasn’t already crying. She tore her face from your shirt and looked up at you, face redder than before. “But… Thank you, y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You murmured.

Once Katniss settled back down in the warmth of your embrace, she laid her head on your chest and smiled. Her fingers gently played with the fabric of your shirt as yours played with the now dry locks of her hair. The poem you’d written now lay beside your book of various others and your mind was already buzzing with all kinds of new ideas for poems for and about your best supporter.

#katniss everdeen x reader #the hunger games #catching fire #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x fem!reader #katniss everdeen x you #the mockingjay #x reader #this one’s actually really cute guys #unfortunately you’ll never see the poem because I can’t write poetry #just believe me it’s good

[gummydummy19]

Month six: Army nurse (October)

Summary: Sy is too grumpy and proud to ask for help, so you do what needs to be done.

Content Warnings: fluff, grumpy sy, bad writing idk lol APOLOGIES

Word Count: (idk Ill put this up later sorry sorry sorry)

October 4th:

“Can I doodle on your cast?”

It was Sunday. The most sacred day of the week. The weather had been getting gloomier recently, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Fall was your favourite season by far.

You and Sy were hanging on the couch, 4 hours into the Harry Potter marathon you finally convinced him to partake in.

“Hmm?” He groaned sleepily

“Can I draw something on your cast?” You repeated your earlier request

“Like what?”

“I don’t knoooww…I’m bored” you whined

“You’re kidding right? You nagged my damn ear off about these movies and now you’re bored?”

“Well not bored bored just, I need something else to do while we’re watching.”

Sy huffed as he ran his palm over his face and down his beard, clearly debating you request.

“Oh pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?” You begged

“Fine! But I better not catch you drawing a dick or some shit” he grumbled, making you chuckle as you jumped up to get your markers.

October 10th:

'Syverson, I swear to god if you don't pipe down and eat your damn veggies Im gonna tie you down and make you.'

The man was stubborn as a damn bull, but so were you damnit.

“Is that a promise, darling?” he replied with that damn smirk of his, making you roll your eyes as you tried to hide the inevitable blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Can it and eat” you rushed out, pointing your fork at him.

You wanted to help him. That’s what good friends do. Sure, some days you debated to either push him down the stairs or kiss him silly. But neither of those seemed very friendly of you, so you settled for just helping him.

It didn’t seem to bad at first, but the longer that damn cast stayed on, the grumpier he got.

You understood he was a man of pride, you really did, but there really wasn’t any shame in allowing you to help him from time to time, at least that’s how you saw it, but try explaining that to captain grumpy…

October 17th:

“I said I was fine didn’t I?” Sy grumbled, trying to manoeuvre himself through the kitchen on his crutches.

'Would you stop acting like a damn child?' You yelled

'Then stop treating me like a damn child!'

“Im not! I’m just trying to help!”

“I don’t need your damn help! I’m a grown man and I was doing just fine before you came along”

Okay, that stung.

'Fine!' Have it your way!' you huffed, 'Aika, c'mere girl' you called out, allowing Aika to walk past you and out the door before you slammed it angrily behind you.

You walked through the chilly, orange tinted streets with Aika trotting proudly beside you, glancing up at you every few seconds.

'He such an ass...' you grumbled, hugging yourself tighter as the cold fall breeze huffed passed you, helping you cool off.

Part of you had hoped having Sy back in the apartment would ease your ‘crush’ or whatever it was you had going on. You spent months trying to convince yourself you were just horny and alone. Fantasising about your hot roommate while he was away was just a way of coping. Right?

Except that since Sy came home your feelings had been all over the place. You worried about him like crazy. Which kinda scared you. You were nobody to him, so why did it matter to you wether or not he ate his damn vegetables?

Every time he made a flirty comment, you thought maybe he felt it too, but then when you offered to help him, he’d get all grumpy and cold. Sometimes you just felt ridiculous for even trying.

Your internal rant got interrupted when you felt Aika’s leash tug on your arm, bringing you to a rather abrupt halt.

“Wha- Aika come on.” You called, looking back at where she was currently sitting.

For a second you wondered why she had stopped, but then you noticed something.

She was sitting right next to some run down costume store. Nothing special at first glance, but then you noticed something in the window. For $29.99 including fake stethoscope and the promise of at least 4 jaws on the floor per room you walk into; a mildly sexist, hot nurse outfit.

“What do you think, Aika?” You looked down at your furry companion and you swore she nodded in agreement.

You've never bought something so fast in your entire life.

October 21th:

“what...what are you doing? Is that one of my chopsticks?!' You shrieked as you entered the living room, only mildly horrified by what you were currently looking at.

Syverson was sitting on the couch, well, sitting wasn't exactly the proper term for it. He was damn near folded in half. His big, muscly body bend over his stretched leg with one of your chopsticks in his hand, trying to poke around his cast.

“My foot itches,” he grumbled “Can you please just help?”

The past couple of days you tried avoiding Sy. He hadn’t apologised, neither had you. You figured it was one of those things you best ignored, but as he sat there whining for your help, you couldn’t help but make a snarky comment.

'Oh so, now you need my help?' you commented, rolling your eyes as you stepped closer, Aika still by your side.

You took the chopstick from him and carefully prodded around inside his cast. Sy fell back on the couch, groaning in relief.

'Little lower...just a little-Ah! Right there, sugar! Fucking hell...'

His words alone made your cheeks glow bright red, let alone the damn sounds he was making...You desperatly searched for a change of topic, when a certain scent hit your nostrils.

'Hey uh...Sy? When did u last shower?' You asked, retreating the chopstick and giving his big toe a poke. Sy propped himself up to look at you, raising his eyebrow at your comment.

“A proper shower? Must have been months.” He replied, chuckling at your grossed out face

'I've washed the important bits, don't you worry, sugar.' He winked

“Judging by this smell, I seriously doubt it.' you replied, trying to ignore yet another one of his flirty comments. Sometimes it felt like he knew what went on in your brain. Every dream, every fantasy. It felt like he saw right through you.

“It ain’t that bad.” He said, just when Aika stuck her nose near his foot, quickly retreating once she smelled his cast.

“See that? Even our dog won’t go near it!”

Normally, Sy would have been quick with a response, but he was busy trying to ignore the way his chest fluttered when you said ‘our dog’.

'You smell ripe, old man. This could be used as a fucking nuclear weapon. One whiff of this and the entire middle east would wave a white flag in a second.' you stated

'Hey, watch your mouth young lady!' Sy shot back with a raised finger.

'I could help you, if you want.' you carefully suggested

'Help me with what?' He grinned, knowing exactly what you were saying.

'Help you wash...'

'My important bits?' he teased

'Oh forget it' you groaned, turning away making Sy laugh

Before you could get too far, Sy got ahold of your wrist and tugged you back, making you sit down next to him.

“If you really wanted to see my dick that bad, you could’a just asked, sugar”

'I'm just worried your dick is growing a second dick"

That actually made him chuckle. The sound made your heart soar a little and you tried to ignore it.

“Well both of my dicks are fine, thank you very much”

He sat up, his face mere centimeters from yours. His fingers danced along your face, brushing some stray hairs out of his way. His voice got real low and quiet when he said,

'Besides, I'm not allowed to get this cast wet.'

Your eyes grew wide, as they gazed into his devilish ones.

He was doing this on purpose. He knew how he made you feel, the effect he had on you, he knew.

It took ever fibre in your body to shake yourself out of it.

“Okay, first of all, I meant when the cast comes off and second of all you’d be wearing underwear you moron” you stated, “and you damn well knew I meant that.”

Sy tried to hide his grin as he looked down and gave Aika a pet on her head.

“Why do you insist on helping me so much?” He asked, rather serious all of a sudden

“Because, well…I don’t know, we’re roommates” you mumbled,

“Doesn’t mean anything” he said dryly

That pissed you off a bit.

“Well, it does to me.” You replied, “Your family lives far away, and I know for a fact you’re far too proud to actually ask anyone else to come and help you.”

Sy didn’t interrupt you, so you continued, getting a little more riled up as you spoke.

“I live here now, wether you like it or not. It might not mean shit to you, but it means something to me. I’m a good roommate and an even better friend. Im not gonna let you rot away. I wanna help you because I’m a decent fucking person and it’s the bare minimum I can do.” You rambled before adding, “Oh and truth be told, Sy, I figured you’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed, but I’m strongly debating that right now.”

You don’t know when exactly you got upset, but suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but here.

“I’m gonna take Aika for her walk now if you-”

“Could you please drive me to the hospital on Monday?” Sy interrupted you

“What?”

“My cast comes off on Monday, I’d appreciate it if you could drive me.” He stated again

“I uh, yeah sure. I can get a day off from work.”

“Thanks” he muttered, scratching the back of his head

And just like that, Sy had finally apologised to you.

October 23rd:

“My colleagues are throwing a halloween party next week, you should come. Get out the house, socialise, that sorta thing?”

You were driving Sy back from the hospital, where he had finally gotten his cast removed. The doctor said he needed at least 4 weeks of physio-therapy, but he should be fine, which was a huge relief.

“Not really a big fan of parties, sugar.” He replied “plus, I aint got no custume.”

“You have your army clothes, don’t you? I could splatter some ketchup on you if you want.” You joked, making him crack a smile, showing off his fangs in the process.

“Or a vampire…” you mumbled, staring at his pearly whites.

“What?”

“Uh, n-nothing!” You replied, focussing back on the road, “So what do you say, huh? I think a party would do you good, Captain grumpy.”

“Hmm…what are you going as?” He asked, brow raised as per usual.

“Ill tell you if you let me cut your hair.” You suggested

“Like hell! You ain’t touching my hair, woman!”

“What if you just let me wash it then?”

“You really wanna get me naked, don’t you?” He joked, making you role your eyes

“I meant over the sink but whatever, dumbass”

“Fine, ill let you wash my hair if you tell me what you’re going as.”

“And let me cut it?!”

“Okay fine! And Ill let you cut it! Just tell me already.”

You smirked at your small victory before saying, “I’m going as a nurse”.

Sy’s eyes twinkled at the thought of you in a nurse outfit

“Ill go with you if you wear it while washing my hair” he smirked

“You’re an actual dog, Syverson.”

October 28th:

“Are you sure you know what your doing?” Sy asked unsure

He was propped on one of your high chairs over the sink at the kitchen island. You had a pair of scissors and a bunch of hair products scattered all over the marble top.

“Sure, can’t be that hard, can it?” You smiled, “now just relax”

You checked the temperature of the water on your hand before gentle running the tap over Sy’s dark head of hair. Your free hand softly wove through his locks, nails massing into his scalp.

“Oh fuck…” he muttered under his breath

“Too hot?” You asked

“N-no no, s’perfect sugar. Feels nice.”

His eyes were closed and you could see the tension seep out of his body as you rinsed out his hair.

A proud smile tugged at your lips with every appreciative hum that came from him.

You studied his face carefully as you took your time washing and conditioning his hair. Not a lot was said, but you didn’t mind. The silence allowed you to look at his beautiful face. Every scar, every spot, every hair. He was so gorgeous it almost hurt your eyes. Peace was a good look on him.

When his hair was all rinsed out, you gently towel-dried it, before draping the towel over his shoulders and grabbing the scissors.

Your fingers tangled through his locks as you studies his hair carefully, trying to figure out a starting point.

“Alright so, I’ll just trim up the sides a little and just shorten the general length. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say, Sugar…” Sy hummed, making you grin.

You were enjoying his compliant behaviour until you accidentally closed your first a bit too tight, pulling the root of his hair so hard his head yanked back a little, making Sy groan in what you presumed was pain.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You rushed out, soothing his scalp gently over the sore spot.

Sy let out a yelp that turned into half a groan before it became a couch as he jumped up and faced away from you.

“I-uh…gotta go to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back.” He mumbled before walking off, pulling the towel off his shoulders and holding it against his crotch…

…hmm…weird?

October 31rd:

“I just don’t wanna go alone, Sy, come on! I don’t know a bunch of people there”

You yelled from down the hall. Sy was sitting on the couch in the living room, the same spot he’d been sitting all day.

His leg had been killing him all day. You just knew it.

Ofcourse he would never tell you because first of all, he can’t stand it when you’re right and second of all he didn’t wanna ruin her night. If he told her, she’ll stay home and miss the party, and he didn’t want that.

“You’ve been sitting on the couch all day! It’s gonna do you good to get out of the house” you spoke, standing closer to him now.

He finally looked up from the tv to see you standing in your nurse costume, stethoscope hanging over your shoulders, knee high socks hugging your thighs, heels just the right height…

It’s a shame you’re not a real nurse because Sy’s was definitely experiencing some shortness of breath…

“Nah, sorry Sugar, but you go have fun” he said, trying his best not to sound like he was in excruciating pain “I’m gonna go take a shower”

“A cold one”, he silently added.

“Fine, I’ll see you later then.” You watched as he made his way to the bathroom

It was clear from the way he was walking that he wasn’t doing good.

You heard him turn on the water as your rummaged through your purse, double checking if you had everything you needed.

After doing a final mirror check, you were about to walk out the door but you were stopped by a loud thud and a yell coming from the bathroom.

“Sy?!” You yelled out a little panicked, but you didn’t get any response

Before you could stop yourself you rushed to the bathroom and barged in, seeing Sy laying on the bathroom floor in nothing but his boxers. (A pair that looked a little familiar to you for some reason, but that’s besides the point)

“Sy, what the hell?! Are you okay??” You rushed to his side, quickly checking him for injuries

“Damn leg won’t do what I want it to” he groaned out

“How many painkillers have you taken today?”

“Took my last one this morning…m’all out…” he mumbled

“Sy you should have told me, I could have stopped by the pharmacy!”

“I’m a grown ma-”

“Yeah yeah you’re a grown man, I’ve heard it!” You interrupted “a grown man would have made sure he had enough pain meds!”

“I have some extra’s in the cupboard for emergencies.” You said, “I’m gonna get you some and then I’m gonna run you a bath and you’re gonna let me help you for once.”

“You don’t have to, really…”

“Oh relax, you can keep your boxers on but I’m not letting you shower by yourself when you can barely stand”

“What about your party?” He asked

“What about it?” You replied calmly as you walked out the room to get his meds.

A good 20 minutes later the smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon filled the room along with the calming sounds of the water.

At first he had whined about not needing a bath bomb but you just knew he secretly enjoyed being pampered as much as you loved pampering him.

You were sitting next to the tub, absentmindedly running your loofah over his muscular back when suddenly, amidst the silence, you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Sugar?” He asked, raising his brow as he stared at you.

“You finally got me to give you a bath in the stupid costume…”

A/N: AAAAAAAAA ITS FINALLY POSTED IM SO SORRY PLS DONT HATE ME IM SORRY IF ITS BAD ALSO JDHHDUZFZSFXFC Im currently on vacation and I swear I wrote like 95 procent of this on my phone at the pool and Im now finally posted this from my moms laptop so HAVE MERCY ON ME PLSSSS xoxo as always comments and reblogs are very highly appreciated!

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#gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #captain syverson #a year in apartment 6b #smutty thoughts

[websterss]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝟐/𝟒 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Cases become harder to focus on with you being gone. Lucy tries her luck with getting Anthony to join her when visiting you, but his guilt makes it difficult to see you. When he finally finds the courage, he doesn’t expect for you to be missing from your hospital bed.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Very angtsy again, some fluff if you squint

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,849

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! This is about 5k words more than part one was lol also the jabs thrown at the nurses and doctor are not written in hatred of them. My own sister is a nurse and I’m aware of how hard they work and the strong mentalities they have for the things they see and interact with. So hopefully it’s not taken to the heart…I don’t know why I’m even explaining this, but I overthink about shit too much, you guys probably won’t even take it to heart cause it plays into Lockwood’s whole persona…imma shut up now! I hope you enjoy it, I had a blast writing this part. Also I’m aware that I didn’t write George’s interaction with the reader, I’m saving it for part 3 <;3 

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Weeks passed since DEPRAC had arrived and helped place you in the back of the ambulance. The doors closing in Lockwood’s face felt like a punch to the gut as it drove away. He watched and watched until the automobile grew into a speck in the distance. He wiped away a fallen tear in hopes to save himself the embarrassment. Though his begging and pleading and almost knocking Kipp out did nothing to hide his vulnerability. They now knew first hand just how special you were to him. The importance you played in his life, the mere reason his sanity remained intact. All that was left was a broken shell of a boy who suffered a great loss. It didn’t help that multiple hands came up and touched him on the shoulder, apologizing, giving their condolences. He rolled his eyes, scoffing at their antics. You weren’t dead, not really, so it made no sense for everyone he knew to act as if you were six feet under ground. You couldn’t be gone, not when he had so much to confess to you.

It was hard to focus on anything when you crossed his mind constantly. When he stumbled upon something belonging to you or a reminder of you such as flashes of your smile or your laugh, or seeing your forgotten mp3 player in the library. They’d fore-front his lobe. He truly lost it one day when he was sitting across your vacant chair, eyes mindlessly wandering onto the thinking cloth, and there it was. A doodle you had drawn. One of a music note, and familiar lyrics to a song that you constantly had on repeat throughout the house, written below. Your subconscious thoughts were jotted down too. Silly little questions they were, but they were yours. Your thoughts and what your mind occupied. All here. You grazed the cloth with your handwriting and Lockwood was afraid that this is what would be left of you. A tingle ran down his spine. His finger traced over your penmanship. Following the curves and loops of your letters. He read a few. A smile formed on his face because you were genuinely hilarious. You never failed to make him effortlessly laugh.

♫

I could build a castle Out of all the bricks they threw at me And every day is like a battle But every night with us is like a dream

Note to self: Remind Lockwood to restock the pantry.  

Do we still have donuts left? I’ve been craving a glazed one!!! :D

We’re out of donuts :,(

We’re out of tea bags. My throat is sore so I won’t get my tea before bed :(

I saw a death-glow of a dog today and it made me cry. The taxi driver must’ve thought I was mental or something :P

George is a moron >:(

“Lockwood?” Lucy followed his line of sight. He placed his hand over your handwriting. He was clearly absent minded. Mind clouded with no doubt thoughts of you. Lucy was surprised to see him grace the kitchen again. He hardly had the appetite for anything as of late. “Lockwood!”

Anthony was startled out of his thoughts. The chair scraped against the floor as he jumped back. He relaxed seeing it was only Lucy.

“Sorry Luce, didn’t see you there…” He sighed heavily. “Did you need something?”

“I only asked whether you wanted to join me today…” It finally dawned on him that Lucy was fully dressed. Her blue leather jacket draped over her crossed arms.

“Today?” He rested against the back of the chair. “Oh.”

“Thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. You’ve hardly left the house since…” She trailed off. Eyes averting from his own.

“Since.” His jaw clenched. “N-Not today Lucy.” He ran a hand over his face.

“Lockwood-“

“I can’t.” His eyes shut. Head falling. He furiously shook his head no. “I can’t. It’s unfair. We’re here and she’s not.” He points harshly behind him. “I can’t just go and sit by her, knowing that she will never wake up. I can’t Lucy…what would I even say to her?” His voice cracked at the end.

“It’s not your fault you know.” Lucy’s head titled, feeling for her friend. “It was a bad case. A visitor, too hard to handle. If what you say is true. That the visitor knocked you out cold. Then what Y/n did was an act of sacrifice. She saved you, Lockwood.” A saddened smile painted her eyes. She reached forward to touch his shoulder. This time he didn’t flinch away like he’d done before.

“And it was unnecessary.” He gritted his teeth. “She didn’t need to get herself ghost locked. I could’ve done without it. I didn’t need saving, I needed her to be okay!” He slammed his hand down on the tabletop. Lucy’s shoulder moved with a startle, her hand retreating back down to her side. Regret clouding over Lockwood’s eyes instantly. “I need her. I need her here with us. I need to make sure that she’s getting enough rest and eating. I wish for her awakening. Not hospitalized and in a goddamn comatose!” He raised his voice again.

“You miss her.” Water brimmed her waterline. Lockwood scoffed. The smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. Missing you didn’t begin to cover half of what he felt.

“I can’t breathe.” He admits taking a great intake of air. “I wake and expect to find her lounging about, somewhere in the house, but end up realizing she’s not here and her bed is still made. I can manage on my own without her but it’s not something I want to do. It’s not something I want to continue waking up to.” His bottom lip trembled. By now he was past giving a shit about who saw him break. “I don’t just miss her, Lucy. I can’t breathe without her.”

He loves you. Is what Lucy finally settled on. She nodded understandably. The one person who held her heart was ghost locked too. A state she’d remain forever in, as would you.

“Join me...” She held her arm out, a smile reflecting back at him. He pondered the idea. Stay at home or go along with Lucy to finally see you. Would he really spend another day within the walls of his own house? Only staying on standby if a client called them to inform them of a visitor needing to be taken care of. What had his life become? He thought about it, then to Lucy’s surprise he placed his hand in hers. “Wait really?” Lucy was stunned, half expecting him to deny her offer. 

“Like George said, Lockwood & Co doesn’t run from things. It’s about time I stop, no?” He gave a cheeky but solemn smirk. Lucy nodded and tugged him along through the kitchen door towards the entryway. 

“George, he said yes!” Lucy yelled to the second floor. They could hear a door open and shut, hurried footsteps descending. He came into view out of breath. Shock and relief featured across his face. 

“Oh thank god. I was growing rather tired of seeing him mope and sulk every day.” He placed a hand over his chest, grabbing his own coat and rapier. 

“I have not!” Lockwood grew offended.

“Yes you have!” Both of them said, nodding in agreement.

“Two against one, quite an unfair fight don’t you think so...” He scoffed then was the first one out the door. If you were here you’d do your very best to counter their bullying, provide an equilibrium. The two glanced at each other before following the brunette out the door.

-

The ride to the hospital had him feeling anxious, but once the three of them stepped foot into the elevator, all courage had gone out the door. He received a few stares from his constant foot tapping. Lucy held his hand to calm him down, but he was anything but calm. It had been weeks since the case. However, he was finally in the one place he tried to avoid. He didn’t quite know how Lucy was able to visit you. To have the strength to see you in such a position. He knew that Lucy was able to relate. After having asked about her past life. He was let in on the life she used to have with her best friend Norrie. They made plans to come to London and be the most famous agents together. Though those dreams had been ripped from them. Their plans were put on pause after Norrie remained in ghost lock. It was nerving, he was scared. Your milky white eyes never left his mind. They haunted him day and night. He’d stay up all night to avoid seeing them in his dreams, not like he ever had any though. He was finally here though. George and Lucy would be there by his side at all times. He braved on when the doors finally dinged. He heavily sighed and stepped out first, walking to the front desk to check in. Then they found themselves heading to your room. They didn’t think anything of it when your doctor and two nurses loitered outside your closed door. He honestly thought nothing bad of it. Yet, he was incredibly wrong.

“What are you not telling us?” Lockwood eyed the doctor. His eyes moved past his shoulder to the gray door that the doctor was blocking. They had just been told by your doctor that they weren’t allowing visitors at the moment. 

“Mr. Lockwood, if you could please sit down. I think it would be best to talk somewhere quieter- Mr. Lockwood!” The doctor called out to him as he had shoved past him. He pressed down on the lever of your door and pushed it open. He barged in and halted. Dread immediately filling him. He felt nauseous, his tie suddenly too tight and choking him. Lucy and George pushed past the nurses trying to hold them back. They too came to a stop when they entered your room. 

“What the fuck?” Lucy cursed as her eyes stared widely at your bed that you were not in. 

“I’m gonna be sick...” George got the chills.

Lockwood slowly turned to look at the eyes trying to avert their gazes. Anger and confusion coursed through him when he asked. “Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?” The doctor and nurses all looked at one another. Mouths opening and closing not knowing what to say because they too had no idea what the hell was happening. Your doctor took it upon himself to speak to Lockwood, which only seemed to further upset him when he opened his mouth.

-

“What do you mean you’ve lost her? How do you lose a girl in a comatose state?” Anthony asked rhetorically. “People in ghost lock don’t just miraculously get up and walk out the door!” Anthony flailed his arms and hands around. He was pissed. Furious when the three of them arrived at your room to find you missing. He ran a hand down his face. Too tired to deal with the staff, and too tired to let his emotions run rampant, but you were gone. You weren’t in your room, you weren’t laying in your bed, and all the nurses, and your doctor of all people, had no clue where you were. Were you moved? Did someone take you in spite of him? Was someone out for leverage and wanted to get revenge? God he hoped it was none the latter.

“I came yesterday, Lockwood. I promise you she was here.” Lucy assured. 

“Yeah, she was right here. Lucy even sang her favorite song. Brought her favorite jumper too and everything. Swear!” George was her alibi. Having joined her when Lockwood wouldn’t turn them down. Now when he had decided to say yes, you were missing. What were the odds of that? Lucy’s stomach felt queasy. She looked around the room, and began panicking. 

“Where is her jumper?” Lucy walked over to the chair next to your bed. 

“What do you mean?” Lockwood's hard demeanor faltered. 

“Her jumper. It was right here. I left it right here, yesterday! It’s gone!” Lucy turned back to face everyone, her face fell.

“Did you lose her jumper too?” Lockwood asked the three people behind him with spite. “The staff were under strict instructions to monitor her and watch over her…” He casted them a narrowed glare. He turned around. Facing the foot of your bed now. His hands opened and gestured to its emptiness. “Where the hell is she?” He exclaimed.

“Mr. Lockwood, I can assure you that we have been watching over your friend with great attentiveness.”

“Yes it shows.” He hummed.

“Now Mr. Lockwood-'' The doctor stepped forward, but was cut off.

“What if she’s awakened?” One of the timid nurse’s suggestions caused his hardened features to soften. His gaze falling onto hers. What would be the chances of it? The idea was absurd. No one, and he means no one has ever awakened from ghost lock. Yet a speck of hope ignited something within him. What once was lost hope for your recovery, now revived itself again. Maybe. Just maybe. He thought.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You and I both know that’s impossible.” He scoffs, a humorous smile painting his mouth. He didn’t want to be given false hope, not when it came to you.

“Ghost exist. Anything is quite possible really.” Well when she put it that way. “Who's to say she didn’t wake when we left the room and wandered off? It would be the only plausible explanation.”

He observed your room more thoroughly from where he stood. Lucy and George looked around again too.

He glanced over to your empty bed, the covers had been clearly ruffled and thrown towards the edge. He subconsciously reached down, letting the fabric of the sheets collide against his fingertips as he caressed them. His heart rate picked up again. Not wanting to consume the possibility but there were no signs, no evidence of a struggle, no attempts of a break in, or furniture splintered and thrown. The only reliable evidence was that you no longer frequented the now discarded bed, and all your wires and heart rate monitor had been taken off, not removed.

Please, please. He prayed. He looked over his shoulder at the nurses and doctor patiently waiting by the door. If the chances of your awakening were true, then you couldn’t have wandered very far. You were probably lost or confused. No one has ever encountered an experience such as this one. Such as your case. No one knew what would come of someone who suddenly woke up out of nowhere. Would you still be yourself? Would your eyes remain a milky white glaze? God, how he missed their e/c color. He took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Here’s the plan...We each take a floor. George, take the first. Lucy, you take the second, and I’ll stay here to search. Move onto the next floor if you’re out of luck. Questions?” He remained stoic. Being the one to take charge in this current unsettling situation. He bore it all so everyone else in his life didn’t have to.

“Lockwood, do you really think she’s awakened?” Lucy's breath shook. Your jumper no longer thrown over the chair she would sit in, gone, gave her goosebumps. The idea scared her, but if it led to being true then she was willing to do whatever it took to find you. Find you first to give you the biggest hug ever. 

“I don’t know Lucy...” He trailed off. Then led the group out of your room.  “Alright. Whoever finds her first then...” He nodded to them, then began walking down the hall. Lucy and George were dumbfounded, not expecting him to walk off so quickly. “Use the stairs!” He called over his shoulder. 

“Where’s the stairs?” Lucy turned to ask one of the nurses. 

“Down the hall to your right.” She gestured past Lucy’s shoulder.

“Then there remained one.” George stood in the same position. Casting a light smile to the nurse who wanted nothing more than to work on her charts. “Alright...” He didn’t even bid them a goodbye, simply followed Lucy down the staircase. 

-

The trio each took to their assigned floors. George covered the first floor, asking and describing your characteristics. The height you were, and what you would be wearing, though none of the passer byers seemed to see anyone with your description. He was hardly the socializing type, so when most ignored him, his frustrations fused up.

Back up to the third floor. Once George and Lucy were out of sight Lockwood bolted. He ran down the halls, checking each room, asking even the patients themselves, if they had seen you. Asking different nurses than the ones who tended to you. He was on a mission. Desperate to find you. To relieve him of his living nightmare. Lucy asked him if he believed that you were truly awake. Yes, he did. He wished for it day and night, now here he was rushing around the third floor hoping you’d be there around every corner he turned into. The only real success he had was the old man in the room next to yours. Something about a girl asking where he got his jelly cup. That had been enough to make his heart skip. His eyes gleamed with hope. Desire and delight overflowed within him. He thanked him, and walked out his room. Spotting one of the previous nurses, he rushed up to her out of breath. There was only one place he could think of that you’d set your mind to, if you really were the girl who asked the man where he got the jelly cup.

“What floor is your refectory again?”

The nurse stumbled over her words. Mouth opening and closing at his odd question. Then not wanting to further test Anthony Lockwood’s patience, she told him. “First floor.”

He gratefully placed his hand on her shoulder, thanking her and hurriedly rushed past her. Refusing to take the elevator, he pushed the exit door and descended with haste.

-

Lucy searched thoroughly on the second floor. She ran down the hallways, asking, shouting whether anyone had seen a girl with the descriptions she gave like George had done. Wondering if you were wandering around helplessly. Though none recalled the description Lucy gave them. No memory of seeing someone like you. She waved them off, taking it into her own hands to find you. She honestly didn’t know how she wasn’t getting whiplash from how fast she turned her head left from right. Glancing into open rooms or towards patients wandering the halls. She made it to one end, turning a sharp right at the corner. Though the right turn only basked in a red bright sign saying exit. Her hands fell to her sides. When she turned around to head on left, her shoes squeaked against the gray vinyl tiled floor. Her feet moved before her mind could comprehend what she was seeing. Her heart picked up because there before her stood you. You in your beautiful glory. Fully conscious, your hospital gown still on, but now you dawned your blue green jumper that was missing from your beside chair. The one she brought to you during her last visit was staring right at her. She kept blinking, not believing you to be real. To be standing upright and walking like you didn’t just awaken from a comatose state. Like you didn’t just come out of being ghost-locked, something everyone perceived to be impossible. The unimaginable was right in front of her though. You were okay. It felt too good to be true, but the soft rasp of your voice asking the nurse stationed at the front desk of the second floor a question, was enough to convince Lucy otherwise.

“E-Excuse me...would you be able to direct me in the direction of the refectory?” Your hands held the edge of the rounded counter. You waited patiently for a reply, biting your lips timidly, but the nurse on the phone only dismissed you with a wave of her hand. Lucy saw the fall of your shoulders, her heart breaking, watching your hands falling back down to your sides. You only smiled at her, bidding her a thank you and turned to walk off. That was the fifth person who refused to help you. You weren’t asking for much. Just a slight guide to make sure you were going the right way. You looked up from your slippers. Startled from the fact you almost collided with someone. “Oh I’m sorry!” You apologized. This was also your fifth person you accidentally collided with. You grew anxious watching her eyes widen at you. Like she’d seen a ghost. “Miss, are you okay?”

“What? I’m sorry. Sorry it’s just...I can’t believe you’re awake.” She sniffled, blinking back the water that brimmed her waterline. A very affectionate laugh and smile rang through your ears. It provides you with some warmth. Her presence was very welcoming compared to the other encounters you’ve faced. She reached forward, letting out a laugh in disbelief. You were real. It didn’t take her long to wrap you up in her arms. You yelped out in surprise, not expecting her to do such a thing. Though you didn’t pull back. Oddly enough, it felt nice. The first form of kindness someone has shown to you today. “You’re okay. You’re awake and okay!” She laughed out loud. She pulled back holding you at arms length. “My god your eyes, look at them!” She beamed, her eyes teary up again. Your eyes no longer held a milky glaze to them. No gray dullness reflecting back to her. They were reverted back to their original color. One she never thought to see again, but she did. She cupped your face. Your eyes softened, taken back from her sweet act of affection towards you. “Wait till Lockwood sees you...and George! Oh they’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you. Our room isn’t as fun without you!” She joked. Lucy felt her world start to piece back together, but it remained broken within a second. Her heart sank when the lack of realization in your eyes stared back at her.

“Lockwood?” Your brows furrowed. “George? Who are they?” Lucy let her hands fall from your arms.

“Come off it now. It’s not funny, Y/n.” Lucy’s eyes held fear and anger. “W-What’s my name?” She held out hope for you. That you weren’t playing a cruel prank on her. 

“I’m sorry...” Your heart felt for her. You shook your head. You timidly averted your gaze. The sleeves of your jumper swallowing your hands. Clearly this girl knew you, but you had no recollection of her. The hallway filled with silence, but not for long since you spoke again. “I-Is that my name? Y/n?” Lucy finally did cry. You poor thing. You had been wandering the halls helplessly. No memory of your friends or your own identity.

“You really don’t know?” Lucy’s shoulder’s fell. The shake of your head was all she needed to know. She reached forward to grab your hands. You let her as she was the only one to give you a sense of certainty. She knew your name, when you had failed to remember it. “Yes.” She reassured you. “Your name is Y/n Y/L/N. Y-Your favorite color is green. Your favorite song is New Romantic by Taylor Swift, which you love to sing very loudly at home. It drives the boys crazy, but they love it when you sing. Your favorite dish is a beef broth that George likes to make when it’s too cold to go outside. You love tea, you prefer it to coffee. Two spoons of honey for a sweet taste. You’re my best friend…and you don’t take shit from anyone.” You clung to every word she told you. You cried too because this complete stranger gave you an identity to hold onto.

“I sound cool.” You half-heartedly laugh. Lucy breaks out into a beaming smile. She nodded. 

“You’re very cool, and very funny too. You never fail to make others laugh.” 

“I am...” You breathe out. 

“Yes. You are.” You accept it. That you’re all these wonderful things she says you are, and that you love and do things the way she says you do. It’s a lot for you to grasp, but you're hopeful. Hopeful that all these wonderful things about yourself will come back to you. Though it hurts your heart when you fail to remember her name. Not knowing it.

“What’s your name?” You softly let out. Lucy accepts your question with a smile, not taking offense to it. She tightens her grip on your hands. Bringing them up to place a kiss upon them.

“Lucy. Lucy Carlyle.” You nodded. You repeat it over and over until you memorize it. Until it’s engraved into your brain. She looks past your shoulder, seeing the nurse you had spoken to before. Then glances back to you, looking at you looking down at your slippers. Curiosity gets the better of her, and if you were in need of help, she wanted to offer it. 

“You asked the nurse where the refectory was...” Your head snapped up. Your smile widened, nodding furiously.

“Yes. Do you know where it is? This nice old man in the room next to mine was eating some jelly in a cup. I asked where he got it, and he said they get them from the refectory. He told me it was on the first floor, but I seem to be turned around.” You laugh at yourself. You gesture to the hall you ventured down with open arms.

“Come on, I’ll take you.” Lucy held out her arm for you to interlink with hers. Your smile grows again as you thank her. She continues down the hall, taking things slower now that she has found you. You weren't all present at the moment, but she would make sure you were looked after. She pressed her thumb on the downward arrow beside the elevator doors. You watched as the button glowed bright, then the doors separated. You both entered, Lucy going for the first floor button but you beat her to it. She shook her head, her mouth tugged upward. “What color of jelly would you like?” She watched as your eyes widened. Your mouth agape. 

“There’s different colors!” You were amazed. “The nice old man had a red one.” You recall.

“Then we’ll get you a red one.” You nodded, rocking on your heels, watching the numbers change. The number one taking place overhead of the doors. The doors dinged and Lucy held her arm out again to loop yours around hers. She pats your hand as she asks for the way to the refectory. A tall fella pointed down past a few seating areas. Phone pressed to his ear as he waves you both goodbye. Lucy thanks him and you fall in sync with her steps, eager and excited to eat the jelly you went on a mission for. She laughs, watching you observe everything you pass. You reflect that of a child in a candy shop. 

-

Lockwood had to catch his breath when he bursted through the emergency exit door. A few passer byers startled and stared at him with confusion and judgment. He hunched over, hands falling to his knees as he tried to slow his heart rate down. When his lungs' air capacity was restored again, he stood tall. Recollecting himself, straightening the tie that flapped around when he hurried down the steps. 

“Lockwood!” George’s voice caused his head to snap in his direction. The curly haired boy ran towards him, slightly out of breath as well. 

“George!” He greeted him, swallowing the burn in his lungs. He needed a sip of water and fast. 

“Where have you been? I ran up to the third floor in search of you, but you were nowhere.”

“Where have I been?” He was flabbergasted. “I was on the third floor.” He places his hands at his hips. 

“Doesn’t matter you’re here now. Look Lucy fo-” Lockwood cuts him off. 

“Listen I have a lead-” He began, his heart settling down. “The old man in the room next to hers said that there was a girl who asked-”

“Lockwood listen to me-” George tries again.

“Him where he got his cup of jelly. My guess is that it was her that’s why I think that she’s headed for the refect-”

“Lockwood, Lucy found her!” George grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Lockwood was stunned into silence. His heart beat against his chest. His shoulders fell in George’s grasp. 

“W-What?” He gasped.

“A little late on the lead, but you’re correct, she was heading for the refectory. Lucy found her on the second floor asking a nurse for directions.” He informed him. He observed his friend in front of him. Wondering if he was going to collapse from the glint of hope in his eyes and disbelief written over his face.

“She found her...” He breathed out. Wanting to ensure that he was hearing George right. “As in-” Lockwood dipped his chin in hopes that George would expand on his choice of words.

“As in, she's awake.” George nodded, letting out a relieved sigh. He patted Lockwood’s shoulder, laughing a little, as a light laugh emitted past Lockwood’s own lips.

“She’s really-” He choked up. “Oh my god!” He went to move past George, but was tugged back when George grasped his wrist. “George?” He questioned the hand that prevented him from going down the hall. He noticed his hesitation. “What is it George?” He looked at him, then down the hall. Concern now dawned his features, eyes furrowed thinking the worst of the worst. “What’s happened to her?”

“N-Nothing’s happened...” He reassured the brunette.

“Then let go.” He lightly laughs. Lockwood was slowly losing his patience. “Why won’t you let me see her?” He frowned. George looked away. “George!” He pressed.

“If you’d just let me explain. You need to know a few things before you see her okay.”

“What’s there to know? I know all there is to know about her. Down to her favorite pair of socks she loves to wear.” He laughed, shaking his head at George’s antics. “George, let me go...” There was a smile on his face, but the edge in his tone gave off a warning. 

“Just don’t get upset with her okay?” George’s eyes softened. A faint smile on his face. He was scared and worried he would get mad at you? He’d do no such thing.

“Let me go.” At last, he was able to take back his arm. He held his wrist, gave George a once over, then hurried down the hall into a big array of seats. Multiple people, family, friends, crowded the space, but he only had one person set out to find. His eyes scanned each face, each seat for someone in a unicorn gown, and blue green jumper. Though instead of finding you, his eyes had fallen onto Lucy walking from the serving area with a tray in her hands. Her eyes scanned the area too, and when her eyes fell onto Lockwood already looking at her, she slowly met him halfway. He looked down at the tray, a sandwich, orange juice, and two cups of jelly filled the tray. A spoon and a few napkins too. He looked back up to meet her gaze.

“Please tell me you’ve gathered an appetite.” He held her gaze with hope. He knew. He just knew.

“Afraid not...” She sighed. She scanned him, wondering what he was feeling at this moment. She met George’s eyes past his shoulder. 

“W-Where-'' He pleaded silently. Eyes telling her to show him. Have her take him back to where you are sitting. She met George’s eyes again, a silent conversation happening before Lockwood. He felt uneasy, not understanding why they wouldn’t let him in. She motioned with the tilt of her head. A silent act to have him follow her. Lockwood wiped his palms down his slacks. Inhaling and exhaling as his eyes looked out for you. When Lucy had set your tray in front of you, it took him a second to fully register seeing you. You thanked her, your stomach growling as you looked down at your lunch. Your eyesight followed up from the cups of jelly sat on the top of your tray, then continued upwards to the dark hue before you, all the way up to the new face staring back at you. You shied back, mouth opening as you looked to Lucy for your lack of recognition. She nodded. So this was him? The one you had to be gentle with. You heard the guy choke back a sob as he slowly rounded your table, kneeling before you as he grew closer. You could only watch as his hand extended forward slowly, then gently cupping one side of your face. When he touched you, he let his hands caress over your skin, realizing that it was actually you. He let out a cry of relief. Tears brimming his eyes. He cupped the back of your head and pulled you into a hug. His face fell into the crook of your neck. Then lifted to place a kiss against your temple. He pulled back, face a few inches from yours. A beaming boyish grin, staring back at you. It gave you sudden butterflies. 

“I thought I lost you...” His eyes crinkled at the corners. His other hand reached up to fix a stray hair. He felt whole again. His smile hadn’t faltered. You were here. You were okay. You somehow came out of your ghost lock, something he was curious about, but was too preoccupied to worry about at the moment. “Y-You’re eyes!” His laughter boomed out loud. “You’re beautiful eyes. I thought I’d never see them again. They’re as gorgeous as I remember them. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He nodded, trying to remind himself that he wasn’t dreaming. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He worked up a smile. A teasing edge in his tone. “I don’t care if you hate me for eternity. You’re demoted to research with George until further notice, no questions asked.” He laughed. It hadn’t yet dawned on him, your lack of reactions. He closed his eyes again, pressing a kiss to your temple. The act of affection was nice, but it made you question so many things. He pulled back, one hand still cupping your right cheek. He looked back to Lucy and George sat across from you, an unreadable expression on their faces. “What were you so worried about George?” He teases. A smirk formed on his lips as he took the vacant seat next to yours. He scooted it up to sit closer. Then his eyes fell onto your tray. He instantly removes the circular lid of one of the plastic cups for you. He casted a charming smile your way. Then reached for your spoon, you accepted it gratefully, digging in to stuff your empty stomach. He went to open your juice as well. George and Lucy exchanged looks as they watched Lockwood now remove the wrapping of your sandwich. He lifted his hands not finding a knife. He looked up to the serving area, there wasn’t much of a line so he took that as his chance to go. “Let me get you a knife okay.” He turned to you, getting up to place yet another kiss on your temple. As soon as he was out of earshot, George caved.

“We have to tell him!”

“No!” Lucy laughed the idea away. It shouldn’t have even been a choice. “Are you crazy?” Her chin dipped, her eyes widened. “That’d be social suicide, did you not just see how happy he was? We cannot tell him! Don’t you dare tell Lockwood, George!” She warned him with a point of her finger.

“Tell me what?” Lucy jumped in her seat, Lockwood only smiled as he took his place beside you again. He watched as you took the last bite of your jelly. When your arm reached forward to grab your drink, he had already been placing it in front of you. The cap twisted off easily since he loosened it for you. You gulp down a few sips. You side eye Lockwood who was already watching you. You gasped when you finished. A small smile on your face, one he reciprocated quickly. He opened the lid of your other cup and gave it to you. You dipped your spoon instantly. This gave him time to cut up your sandwich in a triangular way. He places the plate in front of you. Taking your trash, to throw later. He softly chuckled, when you bit into it. “Good?” He chuckled again. You hummed. “Don’t worry you’ll be back home eating real food in no time. Which reminds me I need to go talk to the doctor about when you’ll be discharged. The sooner we leave the better. Things can get back to normal...” He looked back at you. “Well as normal as things can be.” He laughed. He looked at George and Lucy, worried gazes staring back at him. 

“Okay what is with you two? You’ve been awfully quiet, and that’s not normal for you George.” 

“Care to take this one Luce?” George gestured to him.

“What? Tell me what?” He recalls her dismissal of telling George not to tell him something. Clearly a secret, it appears.

“Lockwood?” The use of his last name startled him, especially when it came from you. He snapped his head to you. Eyes furrowed, but he brushed it off. “You said I’m demoted to research?” The confusion in your eyes rattled him. “What did you mean by that?” 

“You know…research for our cases.” He mustered a light hearted laugh, but it faded slowly. He didn’t miss the way Lucy and George sat up straighter. He too sat up taller. Whereas you slouched, trying to make yourself smaller. You were clearly someone important to the person next to you, much so that he went out of his way to open your drink and cut up your food into smaller portions. Yet, you only knew so much from what Lucy quickly informed you on, before his arrival. “Lockwood?” He laughed. “Getting tired of calling me Anthony now?” He meant well, but the surprise that struck you made his smile fall. 

“Anthony?” You met Lucy’s gaze. “Oh, but you called him-” Lucy frowns, shaking her head. You realize your mistake, hand placed over your mouth. “Lucy called you Lockwood. I didn’t know I referred to you differently.”

You didn’t know?

You didn’t know you referred to him as Anthony?

“Y-You always call me Anthony...” His voice shook, eyes narrowing as dread casted over him. “You told me that my name is beautiful. That more people should say it...So you call me by my first name instead.” 

How did you not remember?

What the hell was happening?

“I do?” You were filled with guilt instantly, watching the last bit of hope leave him.

“You did.” Your heart sinks to your stomach at his use of past tense words. Lockwood’s eyes avert from yours as he starts to realize why George and Lucy were acting differently. You woke up with amnesia. Having no recollection of them whatsoever. He ran a hand down his face, then stood up. The scrape of his chair caused a few heads to turn towards him. He glanced one more time at you then stormed off. Lucy called out to him to come back.

“I didn’t mean to upset him.” You frown. Lucy holds her hands out to you, shaking her head in reassurance.

“You did nothing wrong. I promise.” She smiles quickly. “George, stay with her, okay.” She then gets up to chase after Lockwood.

“I’m sorry!” You call out to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/n.” George smiles sadly, reaching out to rub the top of your hand placed on the table top. “Lockwood is just a bit- This whole situation is-” He couldn’t think of a word.

“Gentle...” You voice the word Lucy told you.

“Yeah…gentle.” He nodded. You stay seated, eating your lunch quietly when a loud voice can be heard. Multiple heads turn towards the source.

“Do not touch me!” You flinch in your seat, the angry voice of Lockwood echoing from down the hall, unsettles you. You glance back to George who offers a grimace. 

“Everything will be fine...” George nods, mostly saying this to convince himself.

“I think I’ll have a few words with her doctor instead!” You glance back to the hallway, then to George. 

“Mostly fine...” He lets out a light laugh.

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