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etheries1015 · 5 months

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We share the love language of biting. Now imagine TWST beatsfolk has that as an actual sign of courting. Like you're chilling with Leona, not dating or wooing him, and then you bite his cheek in affection. And all of Savanaclaw is shocked because among them, it's the same as i.e. proposing marriage. The utter chaos XD

OHH MY GOSSSHHH YOUR BRAIN >>> I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? HAHAHA SODEFHSELKJD i'm gonna expand on that for a few characters...

Accidentally courting them

General warnings: Gender-neutral reader, not really proof read lol. Obvious Malleus and Lilia favoritism <3 I also decided that they ARE dating in this scenario, I think its cuter that way in my head heuheu

Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Malleus, Lilia, ... and Rook HAHA.

TW: none! Just a bunch o' fluff of biting your non-human lover without realizing it was a sign of courtship <3

Leona

It was a typical day for Leona. You two were sitting in the lounge where most of the other students lingered, Leona becoming rather... possessive as of late. Instead of resting in his bedroom away from prying eyes as you had requested from your lover, he ignored all your feeble cries requesting privacy. Instead, he holds you in his lap without worrying what others are thinking. A form of showing others you were his, and his alone. You were conflicted in your feelings, staring at him. His eyes were closed, but he could feel your gaze burning into his head.

"How long are you-" Then it happened. You gave in. You gave his cheek a bit of a nibble. All of the sudden the chattering stopped, all eyes were on you, before they start patting Leonas back and giving him congrats while a few seemed to pull presents right out of their asses.

"Wha- what's going on?" Leona grumbled with a light blush before growling and pushing the face of someone who tried to hand him another gift.

"You all look like idiots! You know biting means something different to us. Don't be dumb." Okay, now you were extra confused. Seeing your utter ignorance, Leona sighed.

"Biting in our land is a sign of courtship, herbivore." ...Oh. You blush deeply and hide your face in his chest, Leona looking away flustered and ruffling your hair.

"Try again in a few years, and I just might bite you back."

Ruggie

You were walking down the halls with your boyfriend when suddenly you had the urge to just...bite him. an overwhelming sense of love and affection for the fact he had given you some of the bread he (probably legally) got ahold of. You smiled fondly at the bread and back at Ruggie before placing your mouth on the bulb of his shoulder, causing him to yelp in suprise and dropping his half of the bread.

"wha- huh?! What was that for?" He became flustered, bending over to pick up his bread and slowly move away from you with bright red cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged yourself, almost embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I just...I dunno," Your cryptic and non specific response left him with his jaw open and eyes wide, spluttering out things like "We're still in school! I don't have the funds yet-" before a familiar fist came and knocked the back of Ruggies head. Leona stood there smiling in amusement and chuckling at you.

"I don't think they know what that means to us beastman, Ruggie." Even more confused then before, you asked for clarification.

"You just asked him to marry you with that bite of yours, herbivore." Now YOUR mouth was wide open, and Ruggie managed to get flee from the scene without much notice from you nor his senior.

Oh brother. You have a lot of communicating to do with that one.

Jack

You were sitting at the lunch table eating away at your food when you noticed...Jack's biceps. You marveled at the sight of his bulky arms- it's a wonder to you how he managed to become so strong and have the motivation to train all day. With a burst of admiration, instead of biting into your sandwich - you took a bite into his muscle. He yelped in suprise and just stared at you, face slowly turning red. Ace and Deuce laughed at his reaction, ready to ask you what was up before Jack took it upon himself to... well, flustered and rapidly spit-firing plans.

"W-we are still so young! Are you sure about this? I-i never knew our relationship was at this level!" He grabbed both of your hands and looked you in your (bewildered) eyes.

"If you're serious about this, I promise I will protect and love you for the rest of my life. But before we go ahead with the ceremony, I want you to meet my parents and get their blessings. Oh, and I need to get a stable job after we finish school first, too, so I can support you and our future. know we haven't talked about marriage before but-" You quickly cut him off in astonishment before crying out,

"MARRIAGE?! Jack, WHAT are you talking about?! I am absolutely not ready for marriage! What got into you?!"

...Queue Ruggie and Leona hysterically laughing at your utter confusion, reveling in the ignorance of it all for a few moments longer before explaining properly what you had just committed yourself unknowingly to.

Malleus

You were laying in the bed of Malleus Draconias's dorm, scrolling on your phone whilst his tail wrapped around your waist as he sat next to you reading a book. You sighed lightly and leaned your head back against the board of the mattress, turning slightly to look at your handsome fae lover. Your eyes then went down to his pale and perfect skin of his neck, the way it was free from all blemishes, smooth, and bright. Something about it made you want to taint it a light shade of red... He felt you shuffle slightly to adjust your body to be in just the right position where his neck was in full view. He glanced over to you feeling you wriggle free from his tails grasp, tilting his head seeing the look in your eyes crazed as you leaned over and just...chomped down on his collarbone.

You felt his tail twitch and his hands quickly throw the book he was reading aside to grasp your wrists, turning your body around and pinning you to the bed and carrassing your cheek with his tail.

"Biting..." He murmured, "Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Fae? You wish to be wed?" Your jaw dropped and cheeks took on a rosey hue, stuttering over yourself.

"W-wed?! I mean, I like to bite when I feel affectionate b-but marriage...I mean maybe one day b-but-"

"Biting in Fae culture is a sign of courtship and ownership. How brazen of you to mark me," he chuckled, "I shall take it you wish to own the next king of Briar Valley?" You could tell at this point Malleus was teasing you, something he picked up from the time you two have been dating.

Malleus could not help but return the favor by riddling your body with his own bite marks. Although he understood you perhaps did not have the intention of marrying him with your silly little form of affection, he knew in his mind with every bite that he was very serious about your future with him.

Lilia

Lilia already knew that biting in the human world did not mean marriage, yet was akin to something more of "cute aggression." So when you have the habit of biting him in the privacy of yours or his room, he knows you simply meant it as a form of affection, letting him know that you had an overwhelming sense of love for the old fae. He bit you back consistently on many occasions, it just seemed to be the perfect form of showing love for one another.

You didn't actually know it meant something much deeper, until you were in the diasomnia lounge and unable to control yourself as you grabbed Lilias hand and bit down gently on his wrist. You couldn't help it, he was being so entirely silly and loving towards you, that you couldn't help but show this public display of affection. Much to everyone else's dismay, however. Sebek stares at you with his mouth agape, sounds of disbelief escaping past his lips yet a sentence unable to form. Malleus as well seemed surprised at this.

"(y/n)," Malleus said, "You wish to marry Lilia?" You coughed at the sudden question and let out a feeble and awkward chuckle.

"I mean...I wouldn't mind one day, of course. We haven't really talked about it. Why the sudden question?"

"HOW DARE YOU," Sebek cried out after finally finding his words, "How dare you bite Lilia and be so insolent as to not move forward with your actions in dignity! YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PROPOSAL-" Lilia started snickering, cutting Sebek off with a wave of his hand.

"It's quite alright, Sebek. Biting means something much different to humans than Fae, I suppose this is the first you had seen us put on a show of affection, hence your confusion." He turned to you, who had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips at Sebeks sudden outburst.

"Biting, my dear, is a form of courtship to us fae. It is a sign of ownership," He chuckled.

"Why didn't you tell me that?!" You exasperated, "I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything I have done, but I would have been more careful about it... especially if it means something more to you," Lilia gracefully explained he understood it meant something slightly different to humans, before gently grabbing your hand and raising it to his mouth.

"Well, now that you understand what it means," He put your ring finger into his mouth and took a bite at the base,

"Would you like to bite me once more, my dear?"

Bonus:

Rook

You bit his arm and he immediately was on one knee.

"Was that a proposal? You know mon cheri, biting one affectionately is often a declaration of courtship-" You hit the top of his head and walked away from your interesting boyfriend.

"You're not a beastman or a fae! I'm never biting you again!" Your face red and folding your arms, turning away (ah, his cute tsundere lover.)

Oh woe is Rook! He begs and begs you to bite him more, he wants to be covered in your marks. It means you were claiming him as your own, right? RIGHT??

~~~

This was so fun to write DFSEFDSFIHSLDKJF thank you for the brain rot heuheuheueheueh

Masterlist

#Twisted wonderland #Twst #Twisted wonderland x reader #Lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #Malleus #Malleus draconia #Malleus x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt #Leona kingscholar #leona x reader #twst fanfictions #ruggie x reader #Jack howl #Jack howl x reader #Twisted wonderland fanfictions #twst fanfics #twst x reader

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momodita · 2 months

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snapshots. [—chilchuck tims]

TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, modern au, minor pining, background marcille/falin WC: 1,000 NOTE: divorced father of 3 save me... save me divorced father of 3...

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS DNI.

“Move over.”

Chilchuck’s voice startles you. The bowl in his hands is steaming: a hearty stew made with Falin and Marcille’s collective effort—(“Senshi’s tried and true recipe!”). A thick slice of bread perches on its rim. It smells just as heavenly as it did at dinner.

“Here?” you ask, stupefied. The armchair you’ve claimed is wide; there’s easily enough space to fit a Chilchuck-sized person, but your mind jumps—unbidden—to the reason he’d been late in the first place.

“Where else?” He nudges you with his knee. “As if I’m gonna sit near that love-fest over there.”

“You’re not welcome anyways,” Marcille tuts, midway through dipping the maraschino cherry from her sundae into Falin’s mouth.

“This is my apartment!”

You concede with a laugh: it’s just your bruised heart working overtime. The moment his body settles, shoulders touching, you stop being able to taste the ice cream Laios had scooped into your bowl. Existence narrowing to that point of contact with a familiar little rush.

It’s Laios’ turn to choose tonight’s movie, much to Marcille’s dismay—(“A documentary classifies! This is a really interesting one!”)—and he scrolls to find it as Chilchuck digs into his food.

Midway through, you engage him in a thrilling mock-battle of fencing spoons. Falin dozes, lulled from the careful stroke of Marcille’s fingers through her hair. By the time the credits roll, they’re folded onto each other, soft snores drowned out by music.

“They fell asleep again,” Chilchuck drawls, chin cushioned against his hand.

“Must be crashing after all that sugar,” Laios suggests, drapes a blanket over them.

“They were pretty high energy tonight. Eager to hear about how Chilchuck’s date went, I guess,” you tease, taking up the mantle with Marcille fast asleep. “You didn’t even tell us her name.” Keeping the tone casual despite the haunting little pit in your stomach.

(It’d been a shock to hear about it: for as long as you’ve known him, Chilchuck has been eager to keep his life private—even from long-time friends. And there’d been no signs of anyone—except you and your little group—coveting his time and attention; no extra, unexplained toothbrushes, no brands you don’t recognize in his pantry, no missed get-togethers.)

“Huh?” He gives you a look, confusion twisted in his features. The TV’s light illuminates a silver hair. “I wasn’t with any girl.”

Your brow furrows. “…His name? Their name?”

Chilchuck stares. This close—where the minuscule twitches in his expression are noticeable—it’s strangely evaluating.

“You know Marcille was joking when she said it was a date, right?” Heat sears along your cheekbones; embarrassment flushing hot under his gaze—the realization of your mistake.

“Of course I knew,” you say stupidly. Chilchuck’s eyebrow quirks. “Shut up. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, then if it wasn’t a date, who were you with?”

“Senshi,” he says. “He was—we, uh,” his eyes slide off to the side, “I asked him for a favor.”

“Oh?” you hum, relief and mirth creating a warm hum behind your ribs. “Looking to get a side hustle as a cook?”

“Not even close,” he grunts, looking away.

“Should we start calling you our little master chef?” You nudge him with a grin.

“Chilchuck is already quite good at cooking,” Laios pipes up without taking his eyes off the screen. “Maybe he’ll learn to make something else after mastering ramen.”

“Hey—”

“Ramen?” you ask, head tilting. “Like, the instant kind?”

Chilchuck splutters. “No!”

“From scratch!” Laios beams. “Senshi’s said he’s been making really good progress since his first day.”

“Oh?” you grin. “Our little master chef is gonna open a ramen shop?”

“Shut up. No way. Not ever,” Chilchuck grumbles, the high curve of his ear a soft pink.

“I hope you’ll make it for us one day—I love ramen,” you say. “Very tedious, though, so I’ve never done it myself.”

His face scrunches, mouth pursing together like he wants to speak, but doesn’t. His cheeks puff with air, releasing as a long, quiet sigh.

“Oh, hey, so after ramen”—you lean a hand on the chair’s opposite arm, boxing him in with a cheeky little smile—“you should look into French onion soup. It’s probably easier than ramen but caramelizing the onions takes so long—”

“You—!” he leans back, shoulders tense and eyes wide. “Don’t go making requests before I’ve even cooked anything decent.”

“Why not? I bet it’ll be great! You’re good with your hands, so soup is probably a piece of cake for you.” You watch—with no small amount of pleasure—as Chilchuck’s face flushes with vivid color.

“Get away from me,” he mumbles, but his tone is so insincere all you do is laugh. He knocks a loose fist against the inside of your elbow. A surprised noise jumps out; you retreat back against the chair, rubbing the spot.

“Mmh?” Marcille rouses with a sleepy hum. “What’re you requestin’?”

“Chilchuck is making us ramen,” you joke, relishing the way he knocks an admonishing leg against yours. “He’s our little master chef.”

“Oh, yeah. Did Laios end up spilling the beans?” Marcille yawns. Falin stirs, eyes fluttering. “Congratulations, you two.”

Chilchuck goes stiff beside you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

Marcille pauses, head tilting with a drowsy look of confusion. “Huh? Didn’t you ask why he’s learning to make it?” she asks. Falin tugs her sleeve.

You blink. “No. Should I have?” Marcille doesn’t respond right away, head bent to put an ear by Falin’s mouth, expression pinched as they whisper. Then, with a sigh, she reaches up to stretch.

“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Laios is quick to grab her attention.

“Hey, so are you actually opening a ramen shop?” you whisper to Chilchuck.

“You’re such an airhead,” he grunts against his palm.

“I’m great,” you reply. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. When next he speaks, his voice is soft—acquiescing easily to your jest.

“Guess you are.”

#chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dungeon meshi fic #dungeon meshi x reader #snapshot fic #reader insert #food as a love language from me wow how new and exciting #momodita fic

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judeswhore · 1 year

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hell is when i fight with you; jude bellingham

summary: you might be in the middle of a fight but jude can’t let you leave without saying he loves you

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: angst? idk actually

notes: you can find my masterlist here. this is for my number 1 fan who absolutely cannot stand my work💅🏻

jude was in the kitchen when you went to grab your coffee, his back to you while he fiddled with the loaf of bread. you knew he knew you were there, his shoulders had tensed the second you’d walked through the door, a momentary pause in his movements but he didn’t turn around. not that you wanted him to, you were sure your dwindling anger would only return if you met his gaze. it had been almost three hours since you’d last spoken a word to each other and the tension in the room was almost suffocating.

thankfully the coffee machine was on the other side of the room, offering you well wanted space between you and your boyfriend, the kitchen island a physical buffer between the two of you. waiting for the machine to kick in you could hear jude shuffling around, his sock clad feet quiet against the floor.

“what time will you be back?”

“six.” silence followed, seeming even louder than before but again, neither of you rushed to fill it. the coffee machine spluttered. jude coughed and let the bin lid fall with a clatter. someone’s car backfired a few streets over. somewhere in the very back of your mind you knew you were both being petty. the argument wasn’t over anything serious, it was silly in retrospect but you were stubborn, jude even more so, therefore the likelihood of a civilised conversation before you left for work was unlikely.

you felt his heat against your back before he’d actually stepped up behind you, your body attuned to his every move but you remained still and quiet, even when his hand appeared in front of you. his chest was warm against your shoulder, the scent of his shower gel and aftershave washing over you in an unwanted comforting wave. he dropped a freshly made box of sandwiches and fruit in front of you.

“make sure you eat this,” there was still a hard edge to his voice, gruff around the edges and forced out around a scowl. he hesitated for only a moment, a second of waiting to see if you had anything to say but all he got was a noncommittal hum in reply. you knew he was rolling his eyes. the coffee finished pouring and again the flat was completely silent.

jude’s lips found your temple, soft and warm, lingered a little longer than necessary before he was stepping back, cold flooding your side in an instant. his kiss, however brief, had made your heart jump, heat curling low in your tummy but you still didn’t lift your eyes to his, intent on standing your ground. he was already halfway across the kitchen before he spoke again, the words low and just edging on passive aggressive, enough so that you turned to glower at him.

“i love you, be safe.” he didn’t give you chance to return the admission or to fight it and his tone, simply left without a second glance back. all you could do was huff, shoving your lunch into your bag, fixing the lid on your flask all the while muttering under your breath about that “awful stubborn man”. you weren’t sure what you were most annoyed about. that he’d made you lunch as if you couldn’t yourself, at the tone of his voice or that fact he hadn’t let you tell him you loved him too. you decided on all three as you headed for the door.

you thought about slamming it behind you but you weren’t that childish and so instead you wrestled your phone from the bottom of your bag, pulling up his contact as you headed down onto the street. you might be fighting and you might just slightly think he’s an idiot but that didn’t lessen your real feelings for him and clearly jude felt the same. you sent the text before putting him individually on do not disturb, content with leaving it at that.

i love you too.

jude could sense something was off (other than your obvious argument) the second you stepped through the door, feet half stomping across the floor into the bedroom. you’d kicked your shoes off in the hallway, hung your coat on the rack but you half launched your bag down onto the chair in front of the dresser in a huff. he was sprawled on the bed, feet crossed at the ankles, phone in hand but he paused his scroll through tiktok in favour of watching you trudge into the adjoining bathroom.

it was dark in the room but jude caught sight of your face, pinched and drawn in, eyes dull and a little heavy and something inside of him lurched when he realised you might have been crying. you looked exhausted, weary and warn out and that one expression had all previous thoughts of fighting out of the window. he was quick in clambering from the bed, following you into the en suite where he watched you pull out your face cleansers. he’d been right about the crying, your eyes were still glassy.

“baby,” you jumped, dropped the face wash with a clatter into the sink and your gaze met his through the mirror with a tired and only half withering scowl. when you made no effort to answer, jude shuffled forward, hands sliding around your waist, curling tight around you as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head. “hey, what’s up?”

“nothin’”

“don’t give me that, why’ve you been crying?”

“i haven’t,” you wriggled free of his grip, batting his hands away from you so you could pick the fallen cleanser back up. “i poked myself in the eye.” he was having none of that, the feeling of guilt and unease only getting heavier in his chest over thoughts that you’d been crying because of him. his fingers curled around yours and he tugged, shushing your complaints with a shake of his head.

with a huff you went quiet, let him guide you to the bed where he settled back into his old spot, pulled you until you were between his open legs, head against his chest. despite your early protests the second he settled you against him you relaxed, wrapped your arms around his waist and tucked your nose away in the soft cotton of his shirt. the second you were tangled together it was like your earlier fight had never happened, the need to be the one to hold out the silent treatment the longest completely disregarded.

jude brushed a hand over the back of your head.

“what happened?”

“nothing, honestly, i just- it was just a bad day.” he stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, knowing that wasn’t the end and you’d carry on. you pressed closer to him, slipped one hand under his shirt to seek comfort in the warmth of his skin and heaved a sigh. “everything went wrong, everything! during my lunch break i spilt coffee all over my paperwork and then i got yelled at because they were ruined. and on my way home it started raining and i dropped my phone because my hands were slippery and the screen cracked and i couldn’t call you because now it won’t work.”

“hey,” jude’s voice was soft, his hand rubbing comfortingly along the length of your arm, his head dipping so he could press a long kiss to the crown of your head. he left his lips there even as he spoke. “i’m sorry you got yelled at, baby, but the paperwork is digital too right?” you gave a small nod. “so you can just reprint, whoever yelled at you should’ve known that and should treat their employees with a bit more respect, we all make mistakes.”

“but-“

“no, no buts,” he brushed his hand across your jaw when you turned so your cheek was pressed to his chest, ran his thumb under your eye to clear the fallen tears. he wasn’t sure when you’d started crying again but it tugged painfully at his heart, his brow crinkling even as he nuzzled into your hairline. “and we can fix your phone, tomorrow, i’ll take it into town and get someone to look at the screen, okay?”

he kissed your forehead before tapping his fingers under your chin, urging you to lift your head to look at him. it took a few seconds, your sniffles and slightly hitched breaths the only sound in the room, but when you did jude slipped his hand along your jaw. your bottom lip wobbled when he brushed away a few more tears.

“and i’m sorry about this morning, i was a dick and being unfair and i shouldn’t have let you leave without apologising first.” you were shaking your head before he’d even finished, wiping aggressively at your eyes with your own hand.

“i’m sorry, too. i was over dramatic when i didn’t need to be and it was petty. i didn’t wanna talk to you before i left because i didn’t want you to think you’d won.” jude huffed a little laugh at that, leant forward to brush the tip of his nose against your temple. he kissed the same spot a second later.

“we’re both childish and stubborn.”

“we’re stupid.”

“yeah.” he laughed again, shifted so he could cup your face in both hands and bring you in closer. you clung a little harder to him. “i’m still sorry about your day, especially if the argument made it worse. y’gonna let me make it up to you?”

“you don’t have to, we were both wrong.”

“but i want to. let me run you a bath and we can order in food? or i’ll cook you something.” your head shook, face twisting a little and you leant into jude’s palm when he stroked your cheek again. you’d stopped crying but the puffy skin and glassy sheen in your eyes still made his chest ache. he kissed the spot between your eyebrows, a soothing gesture in hopes of settling you.

“you’re an awful cook.”

“yeah, i was hoping you’d say no.” he grinned at you. “chinese? i’ll order it while you’re in the bath and i’ll shove one of my hoodies in the dryer so it’s warm when you get out.”

“jude-“ he shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours.

“let me make you feel better. please.” you could only nod at that, a shuddering breath fanning against his lips. you gave a slow blink and his lips tilted into a soft smile before he pitched forward to kiss you. before he could however your face scrunched and your turned away, his mouth instead landing on your cheek.

“what’re you-“

“i’m all snotty.”

“so? i love you and your snotty nose, so c’mere and let me kiss you.” jude didn’t really give you any chance to protest, his pointer finger hooked beneath your chin, thumb pressed soft just below your bottom lip and he closed his mouth over yours.

the kiss was slow, a gentle drag of his lips across yours, tongues brushing soft and languid and each shared breath was a whisper of apology. he kissed you with careful movements, his free hand sliding down your arm to wrap around your wrist and lift it up. when his lips left yours, his chin tilted down and he pressed a feather light kiss to the palm of your hand.

“i love you.” you were nodding, gripping the back of his head to lead him back to your burning mouth.

“i know, i love you, too.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic

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paddockbunny · 1 year

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“You’ll Survive”

Summary : Toto comes home from Australia sick. Toto being a big baby! Rating : N/A Pairing : Toto Wolff x Reader Word Count : 500 - one off blurb Trigger Warnings : this is pure fluff! Common cold/sickness if you don’t want to engage with that

The second the door closed and his heavy bags were dropped on the marble floor you already knew what was coming. As soon as Toto landed in Nice an hour ago he messaged you to say how unwell he was. At first you panicked because one thing you knew for sure about Toto was that he was rarely ever sick - the man took too many vitamins and supplements to be catching all the bugs that regularly went around the F1 grid - but upon listing his symptoms like you were his own personal Meredith Grey, you calmed down when you realised it sounded like he just had a case of the cold. Toto insisted (in lock caps) it wasn’t “just a cold” and he might have the plague or something equally as contagious and nasty. So the moaning and groaning that echoed through the halls of your shared abode made you get up to go check he would survive.

When you reached him you were actually quite surprised at how bad he did actually look. He was a slight pale grey colour and his brow was glistening in the early beads of sweat - essentially he looked like one of those shiny, creepy vampires from that late 2000’s teen novels but you decided not to tell him that and annoy him.

He coughed a few times which you thought was more for dramatic effect than actually coughing and turned to face you. “Help me.” He sniffled and you instantly thought how badly you would make him suffer if you caught whatever cold he had brought back from Australia with him.

The next day, after sleeping straight through his two alarms and never leaving the bed, Toto was no better and although seeing him so miserable tugged at your heart strings you hated him for keeping you awake with his constant coughing and spluttering most of the night. You fetched him some medicine and water from the kitchen and found him groaning again when you got back to your bedroom.

“I think I need a Doctor.” Toto overdramatised when he had to lift his head off the pillow to take the tablets you had brought him. “You don’t need a Doctor for a case of man flu.” Your eyes nearly rolled straight out of your head you eye rolled that hard. Toto never caught it. He was too busy sneezing into a tissue to notice. “I never get sick. Why is this happening to me?” That’s it. It was official. Toto was a pure bread drama queen. This performance was Oscar worthy. “Relax babe, it’s just a cold. You’ll be fine, you’ll survive.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was staring up at you with big full “help me” eyes. Exactly the same way as he did it the night before when you put him to bed like a toddler.

Toto may have been the man, the “trouser wearer” as such, the boss, the one in command and control at work AND in your home. But you realised that the man was one big ass baby when he wasn’t well.

#toto wolff #toto wolff blurb #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff one shot #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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pangur-and-grim · 2 years

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okay I’m sharing a sample chapter because I think it’s funny, if anyone is mean I will cry real human tears

Chapter 9

I decided to take seducing the mad sorcerer more seriously.

His odd acts of kindness, listening to me gab about my friendship troubles with Glenda, patching my wounds, the dragon scale, it added up. I mean sure, the guy turned me into a vulture, threatened to pull my teeth out, and implanted my chest with some sort of sick torture device…. but……. hmm, maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

Still, I wanted out of this vulture body. He could transmogrify me. All I needed was a path, connecting between those points, a way to ‘make it worth his while’, as it were.

“My lord,” I squawked over breakfast. The mad sorcerer was having thick-sliced bread with jam, and I was having a squirrel that had gotten trapped in the chimney and only just begun to rot. I’d flown it down to the kitchen to eat with the sorcerer, figuring a lonely guy like him would enjoy a social meal.

“My lord,” I repeated, swallowing the scrap of squirrel intestine that dangled from my beak. “I think you should turn me into a woman.”

The mad sorcerer choked on his bread.

After some spluttering and hacking of breadcrumbs, and indecision on my part as to whether I should be smacking his back with a wing, he recovered enough to answer. “Why in the world…...? Also, you are flinging rat…. particles everywhere, from this point onward you are forbidden from eating indoors. Effective immediately,” he added, as I raced to get in one last beakfull.

“It’s a squirrel, my lord.” I said, wiping my beak on the brick oven I perched on. “They have the fluffy tails, that’s how you can tell.”

“Stop that! Stop that!” The sorcerer rose to shoo me off the oven and, confused, I circled the room and landed on a chair.

“Anyway, so the transmogrification, my lord. I figure since the prophecy is clear about bodily sex, I can swap to the other one while still weaselling out of the whole thing. Pretty smart, right?” I finished wiping my beak on my own back feathers, and then raised a talon to scratch an itch beneath my chin.

“’Thick eyelashes for a boy’…. I suppose you’re right.” The sorcerer seemed deep in thought. “And you are rather disgusting as a vulture.”

“Well, no, I groom regularly my lord,” I protested, “Look, there’s this nipple-looking thing at the base of my tail, see? And I get oil from there and smear it all over the place. Keeps me shiny!”

“Stop flaring your feathers, I do not wish to see it. I will use the needle if I have to, obey my instructions.” The sorcerer kneaded his forehead with a hand, his toast lying forgotten on the table. A trio of the small humanoid kitchen constructs had descended on my squirrel, one carting it away and the other two working with brushes to scrub the scraps of red off the brickwork. I decided not to protest.

“I have given you free reign of this stronghold because, lacking opposable thumbs and any possible allies, the damage you could do is minimal. As a human, the situation changes.” The sorcerer had his forehead lined and serious, but the lack of a solid ‘no’ made me giddy. Time for a sales pitch!

“I could cook and clean! And decorate, my lord, this place is pretty drab. That’s not even getting into the other stuff I could do.” I cocked my head in what I hoped to be a significant manner, vultures not having any eyebrows to raise.

“The other stuff? No, no, no I see that look on your face, please don’t answer, I know exactly where this is going.” The sorcerer’s eye flashed, and another little construct emerged to carry away his toast. Disappointment struck – I’d been hoping the sorcerer would eventually exit the kitchen having forgotten it entirely, leaving the crisp bread available for plundering. But back to selling myself.

“No, see my lord, I reckon I could perform se-“

“Shut up, shut up, please stop talking. Alright, I will turn you into a human woman if you agree to one condition.” The mad sorcerer raised a single bony finger.

“Oh, my lord?” Joy and relief unfolded like a flower. “And what’s that?”

“Please stop trying to seduce me.”

#the context is that there's a prophecy about the knight's death #but he looks a specific way in that prophecy. so they're avoiding it through shenanigans #im at 50k words as of today

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drarrily-we-row-along · 7 months

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October 1: "I've Got You"

Draco Malfoy had had more than his fair share of humiliating moments. There seemed to be no shortage of things in his memory that made him simply want to crawl out of his skin with embarrassment, but this had to be one of the most horrifically mortifying things to ever happen to him.

His bank card was being declined at the check out. Face and neck heating horribly, he looked at the items he had to try to decide what to put back; a loaf of bread, sliced cheese, a jar of apple sauce, a jar of peanut butter, a dozen eggs, and a container of yogurt. "Oh," he said, heart racing as he tried to get past his anxiety to make a decision.

"Here," the man in line behind him said, "I've got you."

He turned, ready to decline his help, but those words fell away in favor of a spluttered, "Potter?"

"Hey, Malfoy," the other man said, nudging him out of the way with his elbow to insert his own card into the machine.

"No-" he started, too late.

Potter looked over at him, then back at his card, "I've got it," he said softly. And somehow there was compassion and understanding in his voice without any pity.

"I-" he tried again, looking at the fresh fruits and vegetables, the rice and potatoes, meats, and other delicious foods that Potter had piled on the belt behind him.

"Don't worry about it," he said before Draco could get any other words out. "Seriously," he added, looking at Draco from under his fringe, looking like he was the one feeling embarrassed as he pulled his card out of the machine and a receipt was printed.

Draco took his bag from the cashier and all but fled the store.

He wasn't too far, though, when he heard a set of footsteps jogging to catch up with him. "Hey-"

"Thank you," he said politely, "I-"

"No," Potter said, shaking his head. "Don't thank me. I just-" he broke off and Draco stared, waiting for him to continue.

When no other words were forth coming, he said, "If you were wanting to make fun of me-"

"No," Potter said, shaking his head vigorously. "No. Shit," he ran his hand through his hair. "Look, come to my house for dinner."

He blinked, "Excuse me?"

"I'm just making up a stir fry," he rambled on, "Nothing fancy just some rice, peppers, snap peas, onions, broccoli, steak, and some teriyaki sauce-"

"I'm fine," Draco said, even as his stomach growled at the thought of eating some actual fresh vegetables.

"Please," Potter said, grabbing his wrist to prevent Draco from turning away.

"Why?" he asked and he wondered if Potter could hear all of the questions in his head why would you help me? What's in it for you? Why aren't you mocking me? Do you just want to mock me in your home? What will this cost me?

Potter swallowed and looked down at his feet, "I know what it's like to not have enough," he said softly. "I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Just," he huffed, "Come on. Let me feed you dinner. Please."

"You have an insufferable martyr complex." he snapped but before he could go anywhere, Potter spoke up again.

"My aunt and uncle," he said, "they didn't feed me enough. I fucking hate peanut butter sandwiches. No one should eat them day in and out. Just," he shook his head, "let me make you some dinner. You don't have to stay to eat it, you don't have to talk to me, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"And that's it? You just want me to come to your house and eat your food?"

"That's the gist of it, yeah," Potter said, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not going to drag you to my house or anything because that would be creepy," he said when Draco didn't reply, still weighing his options, "but I'd really like to do this for you."

"Alright," he whispered, still feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed but also a deep longing for vegetables.

Potter grinned at him, bright and charming, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "Brilliant. Come on then."

And that was the first time that Draco found himself having dinner with Harry Potter, but it certainly wasn't the last.

By the time he left that evening, with a full belly and a container of leftovers, he'd let himself be convinced to come back the following week. A weekly dinner on Wednesday became a Wednesday dinner and a Saturday dinner, which became dinner every other night. And then before he quite knew how it had happened, he was at his house every night for dinner, staying later and later like he never wanted to leave.

Because the truth was that he didn't want to leave. Harry listened to him talk about his dreams, about how hard he was working in the muggle nursing program he was enrolled in, about his shitty job that didn't pay enough. He loved Harry's cat, Milo. He loved looking at Harry's art and listening to him talk about the creative process of making it. He loved hearing about Harry's childhood and getting to talk about his own. He loved having someone to do the mundane things in life with like cooking, chatting, watching telly, even just having someone to sit on the other end of the couch while he studied.

Still it took him by surprise one evening when they were making waffles and bacon for dinner, Harry was at the stove and Draco was cutting up strawberries, when the other man said, "Hey, Draco?"

"Mmhmm?" he hummed around the strawberry that he'd popped in his mouth.

"You know how your job is shit?"

He laughed, "I do. Thanks for reminding me."

"Right," he said, glancing over his shoulder at him, "But what if you didn't have to pay rent, would that make things easier?"

"It would," he said slowly, not allowing his heart to rise, not allowing himself to hope.

Harry nodded, "Do you think you might ever consider moving in with me?" he asked. "No pressure or anything, but I have an extra room," he continued, "well, five, actually. And Sirius gave me the house, so I own it, and-"

"Harry," he said softly, fingers lighting on the other man's bicep to get him to slow down. "I would love to, but I can't take advantage of your generosity."

"You wouldn't have to," he said earnestly. "If you're not paying for rent, you could maybe help with the cost of groceries, if you feel like you need to. But I don't have a ton of expenses, and I have a stupid amount of money, and a ridiculously large house for one person," he babbled. "And I just really like you," he blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Draco blinked at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "You like me?"

Harry nodded, hand still firmly in place over his mouth.

"I like you too," he said softly. "But I don't want you to feel like I only like you because of what you can give me."

He dropped his hand, a tiny smile blossoming on his face, "I hoped you might." Harry reached over and took Draco's hand, "I don't think that you only like me for what I can give you. You see me and hear my words, you know me. I'd really like it if you stayed."

And really, who was Draco to deny Harry Potter anything that he wanted? So he stayed.

-----------------

#flufftober 2023 #fluff #down and out draco #drarry #falling in love #soft #trigger warning for poverty #trigger warning for mentions of canon typical child neglect #moving in together #short and sweet

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holylulusworld · 2 months

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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Arthur Ketch x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, time jumps, strong reader, Dean being a douche (implied), unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Three months later, London

London in spring was less exciting than you thought. If you explored most of the well-known tourist attractions, it was a place like all the ones you lived in before.

Well, it was a little more British, and they had better tea. Okay, they had the best tea you ever drank outside of Japan. But you couldn’t feel more than resentment against London.

It wasn’t its fault. If you had come here before Dean broke your heart, you would’ve fallen in love with the non-touristic places you discovered on your walks through town.

Like the sweet little bakery called the Dusty Knuckle. You chuckled at the name and were about to call Dean to tell him about it. He would’ve laughed and you would’ve laughed…together soon enough.

That was until you realized that you forgot about reality and the situation you are in.

Well, he would laugh getting to know you signed up for one of their bread-making classes to distract yourself from your messed up feelings.

“How do you like your new office?” Arthur brings you out of your thoughts. Over the last months, he became a confidant. He helped you find the perfect home for you and your baby and made sure that you at least forget about your heartbreak for a while.

Having a man not trying to get into your pants around was refreshing. Arthur tried to be a friend, not your boss. “It’s perfect,” you smile up at him before you turn your attention back toward the newest design. “I like the new design of the car.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Arthur chuckles. “Just like I knew you’d be perfect for this position. I wanted someone with the same passion for cars I share.”

You focus on your laptop and try not to cringe. Dean was the one waking the passion for cars deep within you. You still prefer classic cars, but you want to help build cars for the future.

“Thank you, for everything, Arthur,” you drop your eyes to your middle, wincing as you think about Dean again. He doesn’t deserve one single thought, but it isn’t easy to forget about the love of your life.

“I told you before, there is no need to thank me for hiring you,” Arthur pats your shoulder. “We work together like a well-oiled machine. I have to thank you.”

At the same time, Dean’s office, …

“Dean, I don’t get why you won’t try to find Y/N. She just upped and left that night. I heard her crying in your shared room, but she wouldn’t open the door.”

“She just upped and left, that’s right,” Dean snaps at his younger brother. “He rises from his seat to glare at Sam. “She left her ring on the bed! No note, no reason why. This told me everything I needed to know.”

“Just saying, that’s not her. Y/N would never do such a thing,” Sam interjects. “You know her better than me, but Y/N once told me that she hates unfinished business. She would’ve talked things out if you only gave her a chance!”

“Why are you so interested in my love life?” Dean snaps at his brother. “Y/N left and that’s that. Whatever we had is over.”

“Whatever you had?” Sam huffs and shakes his head. “You wanted to marry her, Dean. Dean Winchester wanted to settle down and have a family. If not for your mishap at the party, you’d be happy with her.”

“Mishap?” Dean splutters. “I don’t remember much of that night. I got a little drunk to find the guts to tell Mom and Dad about my engagement. Maybe I talked a little bit too long with Lisa. That’s all!”

“You ignored your fiancé for your ex-girlfriend, Dean,” Sam makes a face. He can’t fathom that his brother believes he wasn’t in the wrong that night. “You could’ve been happy with Y/N if not for your self-manipulative behavior. We both know you did this on purpose to make Y/N leave you.”

“What?” Dean gasps.

“Y/N was the best thing ever happening to you and you got scared again. So, you allowed Lisa Braeden to be all over you. No woman will stay by your side if she feels unwanted.”

“Leave me alone,” Dean grunts. “It’s over for good. I wouldn’t know where to look for her either way.”

“I can call a friend. He’s a private investigator and could easily find Y/N,” Sam tries one last time to make his brother see that he should do anything to get you back. “Dean don’t lose her out of stubbornness. You were in the wrong.”

“She could’ve stayed and talked to me. Just give up,” Dean drops his eyes to the little black box on his desk. “I did when I woke up to an empty bed, her ring in my hand.”

“I hope Mother is happy now,” Sam snaps at his brother. “She always wanted you to settle for Lisa Braeden, the woman breaking your heart.”

“Sammy,” Dean swallows thickly. “She was my fiancé, not yours. Stay out of my business.” He says instead of asking Sam to help him. Dean is too proud to admit that he’s missing you like hell.

If only he knew why you didn’t even leave a note…

Part 3

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #angst #dean winchester x you

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moris-auri · 7 months

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Still the memory of you (marks everything I do)

taglist: @arcielee @sylasthegrim @orcaunionleader @aemondx @lexwolfhale @barbieaemond @helaelaemond

Osferth x reader (she/her)

A/n: changed my mind on making it a series, but I hope you guys like it all the same!! 💕💕 line divider by @saradika and MDNI by @cafekitsune

Warnings; NSFW 18+, angst, death, smut

Summary: They were never meant to cross paths, yet fate worked in strange ways.

The hunk of bread in her mouth fell to the ground as she let out a yelp, eyes widening when something fisted the back of her tunic. A wave of panic crashed over her, the urge to flee growing when the weight vanished for a second before falling on her shoulder, spinning her around hard enough to make her stumble and bite the inside of her cheek when the not so blunted edge of one of the alehouse tables dug painfully into her spine.

“Well, well, well,” a voice rumbled above her gruffly, “Aren’t you quite the little thief?”

Narrowed eyes were focused on her intently, roving from the top of her head down over her threadbare tunic and the breeches underneath it.

A warrior, she noted, judging by the sword at his side and his leather armor. Unamused, she tucked her chin inward as she glowered at him. “So?”

His chuckle deepened as he grinned down at her, not missing the way her eyes flicked towards the door frame. “So?” he repeated, crow’s feet forming in the corners of his eyes. “Stealing from the Lady Æthelflæd is a crime, you know.”

She prayed he didn’t notice the flash of nervousness in her eyes at the mention of the Lady of Mercia. His mouth twitched at the sound of her stomach starting to grumble, the noise loud enough to make him chuckle and gesture at her stomach unhurriedly. “You’re hungry. Come.”

She didn’t move, keeping her feet planted on the floor as she grimaced. “Either come with me or pay the fine.” With that he shrugged, turning around to go back the way he’d come, “Your choice, little thief.”

She scrambled after him, the bread forgotten in her haste to catch up to his loping strides.

That had been months ago.

Possibly a year, even.

She didn't remember; couldn’t remember from all the time they spent traveling from one town to another, more often than not sleeping on blankets beneath the open sky, the quiet of the land broken by bursts of laughter from Sihtric or Uthred or Finan.

They’d been in the same place longer than she expected, though a part of her, bone weary and tired, was glad for it. She turned her head, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, watching the way the torchlight sent his profile into stark relief. “You’re staring,” he teased, keeping his gaze straight ahead, “Again.”

Her mouth twitched as she grinned amusedly, “Can I not admire you, Osferth?”

He choked, spluttering on the mouthful of ale before turning wide blue eyes on her, a flush rising over the curve of his cheeks. “You-”

She glanced back at the others again, huffing a breath out in relief as they were otherwise occupied with something. The corner of her mouth lifted as she turned back, grinning at him slyly.

His breathing deepened, nostrils flaring as his eyes darkened, pupils dilating with desire. "Come with me." His fingers wrapped around her hand as he pulled her away from Uthred, Finan and Sihtric, his steps sure-footed and determined as he led her outside.

“They took stones from the ruins in Wroxeter to build this place,” he murmured quietly when he'd finally stopped by a lone corner of the watchtower. His breath fanned over the top of her head as he stood over her, making the strands that had fallen from her braid flutter softly.

Awed, she listed her hand, tracing her fingers over the old rough hewn stones. "It's beautiful."

"Isn't it?" Her head lifted, catching the strained undertone of his voice, lips parted at the look on his face when she turned her face up to his. His eyes were dark, darker than she’d ever seen them, the clear placid blue turned into a shade like the sky before a storm.

No man had ever looked at her like he was. Her eyes widened, heartbeat roaring loudly in her ears as she breathed his name under her breath. He had not yet let go of her, and for a brief, fleeting moment, she hoped he didn’t, warmth shooting down her spine at the sensation of the callused skin of his palms scraping lightly over her knuckles.

"I want you," he exhaled hoarsely, his chest heaving with each ragged breath he took, “More than I’ve wanted anything.”

Her lips parted, palms itching with the overwhelming urge to twist her fingers into his hair and tug roughly on the short strands growing as she shivered at his words, heat pooling in her stomach at the thought of being so wholly desired by him.

“Then what’s stopping you?” she breathed, instead tugging her hand from his hold and pressing it directly over his heart, feeling the steady thump of it under her splayed fingers as she let out a breath, not pulling her gaze from his. How could anyone be so beautiful?

His grin broadened as he bowed his head to catch her mouth in a kiss that was messy and inexperienced, yet still heated enough to make her toes curl in her boots. She responded to it eagerly nonetheless, digging her fingertips into his shoulders as she stretched up on her toes, suddenly ravenous to taste him.

She grunted, knocked breathless for a brief second when her back hit the stones behind her. She gripped at his shoulders, biting her cheek to keep the low whine at bay as his lips slid from hers, skirting over her cheek and down her jaw.

But it came anyway when he retreated yet again, panting and wide eyed as his breath puffed between them, white and opaque. “I cannot marry you. No matter how I wish to.”

She knew what he meant. What he refused to elaborate on, having been witness to his almost nonexistent relationship with the man who had sired him. She remembered their first conversation like it was yesterday, stilted as it had been, the mention of Alfred doing little but make it more awkward.

It was one thing she’d never forget, the way his demeanor had shifted so rapidly, going from shy and subdued to something harsher and more severe. She had flinched when his cup had thumped harshly on the table, jarring and loud as it sent the wooden utensils into the air.

Would never forget what Finan had said to her after, one hand loosely gripping her shoulder. I would not say that name in his presence again if I were you, little thief.

She had listened, and never uttered Alfred’s name again.

She smiled anyway, nothing more than a brief twitch of her lips. “I see,” she murmured, swallowing back the lump in her throat. The expression on her face must have shown some of what she felt, the feeling akin to a knife twisting in her chest.

“It is not that-” He blustered, flushing as color rose high on his face when he noticed her eyes lingering on him. He pressed forward again, his frame all but bracketing her against the stones, a barrier between the wall behind her and the structure in the distance.

“You do not have to say it if you do not want to, Osferth-” her voice came out weak as his eyes darted over her face, searching for something. Whatever he was looking for, or if he found it, she didn’t know, content to savor the here and now with his thin frame pressed flush against her like this.

He swallowed, his mouth twisted as that same anger he had then returned. “I am a bastard.” The word hovered between them like a weight, the bitterness in his voice making rage swell in her chest.

She had never known the dead King, nor did she wish to now.

“That was a choice he made, Osferth, to lay with your mother,” she bit out, raising her head to meet his eyes. “His sin, not yours. Our God knows you did not choose this.” She soothed as she pulled her hand away, fingers moving up to curl against the back of his neck, nails scraping lightly across his skin. His mouth twitched, a rueful smile appearing and disappearing just as fast. “I cannot help but-” she cut him off, digging her fingertips into his skin as she pulled him down to kiss him again, smiling against his lips when he responded instantly, fingers digging into her hips as he groaned against her mouth.

A greediness had awoken in him after that, something that had him turning to her and touching her every chance he could. And when they were alone after the sun fell, he would be on her, hands finding the curve of her waist beneath the stiff leather of her armor.

It was always something different each night he spent with her. Pressing his face between her thighs. Licking at her until she was keening and oversensitive. Rutting against her until they were both sweat slickened and panting.

If there was one thing the siege of Winchester had proven, it was how fleeting life truly was.

It was no different now.

The seasons change, one after another as they follow Uhtred, settling into Coccham easily. Yet a part of her hates the peace, an after effect of the expanse of time she had spent with a sword in her hand.

Yet the one thing she would never regret was the constant of waking with him at her side, the memory of the previous night still fresh in her mind.

The tangle of limbs and teeth and tongue. The feeling of his fingers dipping between her thighs as he gathered her slick on the pads of his fingers. The cacophony of noises he had made against her skin. The sharp, near brutal snap of his hips against her backside before he collapsed against her, head pressed against the back of her neck.

"If this is heaven," he had grunted, long fingers gripping her sides hard enough to leave bruises, "Then I do not want to leave it."

“Where is Osferth, Finan?”

Her brow furrowed as her eyes darted between them, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. She could practically taste the unease in Uthred’s voice, like sour ale.

His face flashed in her mind as she had seen him only days before, with color bleeding over his cheekbones and his blue eyes soft as he looked down at her, his fingers clasping hers loosely, stood a distance away from the others, hidden by the tree’s low hanging branches.

Before they had separated.

She had been loath to leave him, his reassurances the night before and the next morning doing little to dispel the uneasy feeling building in her gut.

They'd been seated at the same table for hours, listening silently as Finan spoke, recounting everything that had happened. She stared down at her folded hands as she listened, knowing that she would never step foot in Rumcofa again.

Her grief was a blade buried hilt deep in her chest, twisting as it turned, slicing her open from her chest to her navel, the agony of it burning underneath her skin, white hot and blistering.

"He asked of you, you know."

He head shot up, startled again by the sound of Finan's voice. He had not moved, staring blankly at the mug of ale situated in front of him, barely touching a drop of the liquid. "He was dying, and the only thing on his mind was you."

"Finan-" Uthred warned, mouth tight, “Enough.”

The stool toppled over behind her as she stood up rapidly, the growing tightness in her chest becoming a stranglehold. She stumbled, the words playing over and over and over in her head.

The only thing on his mind was you.

The stifling atmosphere inside the tavern faded slightly as she stumbled past the door on unsteady legs, sucking in lung full after lung full of air. A quiet creak of boots on old wood sounding from behind her. She didn’t bother turning around, knowing exactly who had followed her. “What do you want, Sihtric?”

She could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of her head, “To talk.”

She kept her back to him. “What if I don't want to talk? Hmm?”

“You’ll find another,” Sihtric interrupted quietly, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Someone who will make you happy like he did.”

She shifted away from him at that, rounding on him with glassy eyes, seeing half of the agony she felt mirrored in his mismatched eyes. "This world takes and takes and takes and now-" a sob welled in her throat, tears stinging her eyes. “Finan can’t even look at me-”

“Because he thinks he’s failed you. He looks at you and sees him.”

She ignored him, choking on the words that tumbled out in a rush as her hands shook at her sides. "What is this life without him? I can't-" for how could she, when the very thought of being happy with someone who wasn't him left her ill, and feeling like a knife twisting in her stomach?

“You can,” he insisted as she shook her head, “He would not want you to mourn him forever.”

“As if it were that easy,” her voice rang hollowly in her ears. Osferth, who at the beginning had flushed whenever he saw her, ducking his head to hide the splotches of red covering his cheeks.

Osferth, who for seven years had been so wholly hers. Osferth, who should’ve been here with her now, not buried in some distant grave in Wessex, leaving her with nothing but memories and the knowledge that now she would forever be haunted by the ghost of him.

By the memories that she had had all of him, and now none of him.

They were never meant to cross paths, a royal bastard and a thief, yet fate worked in strange ways, but they had. Two vastly different fates woven together, and now she would be haunted by what could've been.

By what should have been.

#my fics #osferth #tlk fanfic #the last kingdom #ewan mitchell #osferth x reader #osferth x oc

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mysteriesmuse · 1 year

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The Quirky Little Lady Next Door

I’m absolutely OBESSED with the idea of Bakugou having a quirky little neighbor. So here’s an absolutely random and spontaneous mess of headcannons

Bakugou himself always insists on living at the top floor. GREAT VIEW, GETS HIS STEPS IN, AND NO NEIGHBORS STOMPING ON HIS CEILING. 👏 rip to everyone who lives below him tho seriously

you’re the only other person around his age on the floor and you’re the most normal of the bunch. Seriously y’all deserve a reality TV Show up here on the 19th floor.

Y’all’s most notable floor mates being a retired grandmother, a newly wed couple, your staple office worker hippy man, an ex-boxer, a librarian, an eccentric recluse of a professor who teachers online. Along with serveral young families with children who love to run around the halls.

Bakugou gets used to it and truly love/hates it up here. 🖤

although he finds himself running into you much more than he’d like at first. you turn out to run on much the same internal clock as he does. Early bird.

you move into the empty apartment next door to him. and therefore you share the apartment balcony with him.

Bakugou never used to go out there

but now you’re out every morning cradling a cup of steaming tea, every weekend you take to the plants in their pots and you always pad over to his sliding door and knock, and shout, and pout about him picking your herbs or tomatoes . . . Katsuki used to just shrug and feign innocence until he started to enjoy seeing your squished up angry face outside his door. Now he gives you a devishly handsome grin before nodding and letting you in to share the delicious meal he’s made with herbs fresh from your garden.

Now Katsuki leaves his balcony door unlocked so you can feel free to let yourself in. Whether that be to share dinner he’s made, to drop off half a freshly baked loaf or bread or plate of extra sweets, or even when you come in screaming and spluttering in your bath robe about some vermin in your bathroom. (The later happens a lot. Both of you two still can’t figure out how these critters get up to the 19th floor like this)

loves to come home in the evenings from patrol and see you out there with your little blue light glasses doing work or occasionally taking an animated phone call to a friend. PS Katsuki has since dragged a foldable beach hair out there to bask in your presence

Bakugou has also learned how active you are. He quickly caught on to your early morning jogs at the local park near the building. Now Katsuki makes the effort to “walk out” the door the same time as you do. you always greet him with a surprised chirp when he starts walking out the building with you clad in his blank tank and cargo pants getting ready for his early morning shift at work. 🌤️🌷

Katsuki hates forgetting things, but loves when he runs out to get something he forgot at the grocery store only to see you chatting with the giggling kids in the hallway.

he wonders if you’d like kids?? U seem so good with them; the little ones that totter around chasing after the older siblings? Got him clutching his peck the way you squat down and offer a hand to help them back up into the game of chase or whatever the heck the whirlwind-of-shrieking-kids-in-the-hallway-game is?? U even do well with the teens. Even the bristling goth teen seems to make eye contact under their thick bangs and gives u a shaky lopsided grin. (he knows you’re good when you start giving them advice about how to prepare for college)

And damn it when the parents of the floor ask everyone who’s participating in Halloween so they know who’s doors to knock on for trick-or-treating he can’t help it. not when you beam and tell him that he wouldn’t even have to get a costume bc he’s already a real-life hero.

So mans probs shouts yes.

and Katsuki would normally hate being bothered to fix sinks or move furniture but he’s absolutely bitting back a grin whenever you nervously send him a text message asking for help

Bakugou almost always responds as fast as he’s able to and always show up in some tight fitting shirt to show off his muscles . . . as if he needed to impress you 💪🙄

and when he steps foot into your place it’s even more you than he thought from the goofy little paw print floor mat on the outside of your place.

it’s big and bright and bold and oh so color coordinating. there’s colorful throw pillows, and a cozy little bookshelf. And you’ve got dozens of trailing plants hung up on your curtain rods. And a sleek but childish Lego coffee table. And a step-stool in your kitchen, which you always use to fetch the instructions for the sink.

And everything is shining from the light hitting the disco ball in the center of your living room. It casts such an alluring light into your beautiful eyes everytime he steps foot into your place 🪩💖

it’s all so much more than his apartment. maybe you’d like decorating a larger space, an actual home? He’d buy you one in a heartbeat let you choose how to style the whole thing.

heck he even loves your bathroom. It looks so much more luxurious than his with the plush bath mats, even tho they’re identical twins of each other. trust me, Bakugou know bc he always hears you talking to the shampoo bottles in your bath abt your day when he walks in to take he shower after patrol . . .

but Kats is also a gentlemen despite his brash exterior and he’ll always dunk his head under the spray so fast that’s he just catches your mumbling tones

also loves the excited bounce you do when you come home to find a package at the door

or the first Wednesday of the month. Smt abt your show bc you always refuse the dinner offer at his place. . . luckily he’ll just show up with an extra at your balcony door. And it’s one evening when he rasps on your door that you drag him into the house by the hand and violently shush him as you shove him into place next to you on your couch.

or his favorite is when you got the pro being like :o when you absent mindedly snuggle yourself up next to his beefy arm after a news report with particularly big villain and tall glass of wine later it’s not like you missed him or were worried. nah nothing like that for sure . . . 🫶

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki imagine #katsuki bakugou #mha fanfiction #bakugou headcanons #pro hero katsuki #bakugou drabble #pro hero dynamight #they were neighbors #i love this #I wanna redecorate my room so bad #also this is just like my ideal life honestly like #your honour im in love

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breadistasty · 4 months

Note

do you like my big fat balls bbg

i'll like yours if you like mine

#friend recruited (rpg sound effect)#bread splutters #hi brain

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roryintheir90s · 5 months

Text

[2] [3] [4]

I know no one cares about it other then a selected few, but they're on my mind constantly lately. I even spell checked it this time!!

Jimmy expected to be thrown out at any moment. But even days after he begged Ren and Martyn to take him in, they still kept him. They fed him, kept him warm, gave him food. For once, Jimmy could pretend that maybe this whole server wasn't just a big death hole for watchers' entertainment and to feed their own desires, no matter who they hurt.

Softly, with a groan, Jimmy touched his forehead where a neatly soft bandage was wrapped around his head. Ever since his second death, he kept having migraines and sometimes ringing in his ears, as if he still could feel the phantom consequences that the explosion of the TNT cart has carried.

His first death wasn't that bad. Not after he respawned at least; there was no lasting or at all effect of it. The canary could only hope that it will pass.

"Don't touch that," Martyn spoke in a strained manner to the dirty-blond man in front of him. "We don't have enough supplies to change these every 30 mins just for you."

"I'm being careful."

"Doesn't look like it." The white bandages on Jimmy's head were already starting to soak crimson red with no visible indicators of it stopping. Truly, in Martyn's eyes, he could fall over any moment, the grey blush on his cheeks only adding up to this feeling.

As it was, Martyn already had to worry about Ren, the babble-mouth Ren that while wants the best for everyone, tends to wear his heart on his sleeve.

Brushing away his thought, Martyn handed bread and some carrots to the wounded canary. It's not much; it's never much, but it's enough to keep them and Jimmy alive and regenerated. Martyn made sure not to touch Jimmy, avoid the other's touch like a flame. Frankly, he would prefer to be feet away from him, but he has to keep an eye on the other.

"Thanks," came a soft gratitude from Jimmy.

"You're welcome, Tim."

His eyes wandered towards the other's bruised arms, now visible as the bloodied sweater the other kept wearing every day lay at the end of the bed, partially falling onto the floor. He felt as if something hot was pouring inside his guts, and he hated that. Without much thought, he looked away and was ready to walk away when a loud banging sound came out of nowhere.

Instantly, Martyn turned around and fast on his feet, he ran towards the exit of their basement, not noticing how Jimmy instantly got up, his wings spluttering open in shock.

Martyn was about to walk outside, hearing Ren's annoyed voice. Jimmy unsurely stepped close to him, startling Martyn as soft yellow wings brushed against Martyn's back, still being spread out and puffy. Jimmy grabbed onto Martyn's sleeve unsurely, not touching his arm but still being in his personal space. He felt like he was about to bite.

"Are you sure you haven't seen him?" A calm and soft voice with a Scottish accent asked.

"Dude, no. I didn't see him." Ren's voice was a pitch higher than usual, annoyed at the other. Martyn peeked behind the wall, now noticing how Scar was right next to Scott smiling happily. When his sight looked up, he noticed Grian looking around but not really paying attention to the men below. "Leave now," Ren demanded.

"Oh come on Ren, we all friends here." Scar tried only for it to result in the Red king frowning harder than Martyn saw him ever.

"Last time you were here, you tried to kill me!"

Grip on Martyn's sleeve tightened. He looked towards the source,—Jimmy didn't even seem to be aware he was doing it, his eyes a little wide as his lips were parted, he was looking intensely at the Blue-haired man who sighed. Visibly they were getting nowhere here.

Suddenly the said man turned his head toward them. On instinct, Martyn pushed Jimmy away, further behind the wall before departing towards the group.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was a little strained as he put on a smiley facade.

"Martyn!" Scar's happy voice reached his ears, but Scott decided to cut in.

"Have you seen my husband?"

"Quick to the chase?" the blond gestured, "No. I have not. Aren't you supposed to know where he is since he's your husband?" Scott brushed his hand into his hair at Martyn's flippant voice.

"That's the problem," he murmured, "He didn't come back home."

"Lover's quarrel?"

"Oh young love, you know how it is!" Scar exclaimed dramatically out of nowhere, earning a raised eyebrow out of everyone.

The blond noticed as Ren's ears started to lay flat, straight up glaring at their unwelcomed "guests". This was enough of jesting; they need to leave, now.

"You should go. You're not welcomed here," Martyn finally said. Scott sighed at that but didn't put any fight in it; that on the other hand couldn't have been said about Scar who whined.

Grian has made his way down onto the ground, trying to drag Scar away, "Let's go, Scar." he prompted the other, but even so it took much more convincing from him to get the Red name away.

But before fully leaving himself, Grian looked straight at them, no words were exchanged, he just looked as if knowing exactly what they were doing. For a second, the both Dogwardians thought he might say something, which only amplified their worry. But he didn't, he just turned around and started to rush his partner.

Both men sighed as the worry was taken off their shoulders. Ren put a hand to his forehead, slightly brushing some brown strands away from his eyes, and laughed.

"That was sooo close dude." he smiled merrily at Martyn.

Ren's happiness brought a smile to the blond's face who giggled, "Ye."

The both of them made their way back toward their underground base, in a much happier mood than they were before.

"Did they go away?" Jimmy asked as they came in, his voice sullen and a little rough. His hand palming at his wrist, wings still puffed out.

"Ye dude, they're gone now. You're fine!" Ren reassured happily making a step towards the canary, who tensed up instantly but didn't move away either.

"Ok," he said in relief, "Ok." came a soft unsure repeat after it.

"It's going to be fine, Tim—" Martyn moved his hand to try to comfort the other only for Jim to take a step back away from him. The light blond's lips parted, suddenly lost for words. The canary did not look into their eyes, focusing on the wrist he kept palming at.

As a strained smile found its way onto Jimmy's face, and with a falsely cheerful tone that was way too forced to be his usual one, he exclaimed, "I think I'm going to take a nap if you don't mind." But before neither of them could respond in any way, the dirty blond was already behind the doors.

Silence loomed on the two until Ren pointed towards the direction where the other disappeared. "What happened?"

Martyn blinked.

"I don't—" he looked at his still outstretched palm "I don't know."

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foreverdolly · 1 year

Note

For tut sleepover I’d love dad Elvis with 9 and 26 thank you!!!

𝐌𝐔𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐄 | 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐦𝐨𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

prompt(s): "I love it." "I'm gonna puke." and "If it makes you feel any better then you can slap me. Lightly."

word count: 1.3k

song: fooled around and fell in love - elvin bishop

notes/warnings: this is for my 2.5k celebration! no triggers, this is a safe read. elvis is the best dad ever and loves you and your kids more than anything. we stan a girl-dad king.

The musician had grown up ridiculously poor. The kind of poor that had him eating nothing but corn bread for dinners some nights and living in government housing. He never grew up with many toys, but neither did the other boys from his side of town. They had to make do with what they had.

An empty apple crate was a car if you tied a thick rope to the middle plank and took turns pulling one another in it. You could make forts out of broken branches and dead leaves, and the local streams were just as good as any saltwater swimming pool.

His daughter had absolutely everything that he had grown up without. A nice big house, brand new clothes (without any patches in them), and more toys than any child would know what to do with. Instead of riding her tricycle around the house and terrorizing Miss Mary (his daughter loved to help her with the cooking), she was outside getting her hands dirty. His daughter was out in the front yard with a plate, one that she no doubt had to have stood up on her tiptoes to steal from the fine China cabinet. The baby blue dress that you had put her in just hours ago was practically black, mud splattered all over every visible inch of her tiny body.

“Winnie!” He called out to her, hoping to get her attention.

She didn’t look up, rather just slapped another fistful of mud onto the plate. He spluttered, feeling jilted by the act of her down right ignoring him. It wasn’t just any old plate that she was sullying either- it was your wedding china. It was cream colored porcelain with gold inlay- very expensive. He didn’t care about the price though, rather the fact that you and him had eaten your wedding cake off of it.

Right on que, as if summoned by his panic, you appeared in the doorway behind him. You opened your mouth to ask him what he was looking at, but found out on your own very quickly.

“Winona Mae!” You called out to her hurriedly, motioning her over with a forceful wave of your hand. “Come here, baby.”

Elvis couldn’t help but huff in annoyance as his little girl stood up, plate in hand, and did exactly what you said. He should have known that she would listen to you over him. His brown suede jacket crinkled softly at his elbows as he crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his booted foot against the stones of the front porch, trying to look the part of an authoritarian.

“Did you not hear me, lil girl?” He asked her once she was close enough. Her bare feet slapped against the stairs as she walked, and to his disbelief she shook her head.

“I was busy cookin’.” Her little southern drawl was thick as she replied in a rather matter-of-fact tone.

He couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh as she proudly held out the plate. You and your husband stared down at the mud, both knowing that it would be better to play along with her little game of make-believe. You were the first one to lean down, admiring her handy work with kind motherly eyes. She had placed small pebbles around the perimeter of the dirt mound, even going as far to place a few leaves and sticks on the very top. You surmised that it had to be a cake.

You pretended to sniff the air, shooting her a wide grin soon after. “Oh my- what a beautiful cake. And it smells so delicious. How did I not know that you were such a talented baker?”

It was moments like this that had Elvis falling in love with you all over again. Motherhood suited you beautifully. Here you were, happily playing with your daughter, your stomach swelling with his child. He had the family that he had always wanted as well as a wife that he adored. You were someone that truly saw him and his heart.

“S’cause I didn’t wanna tell ya.” She got her sas from you, he supposed.

Winnie smiled expectantly at Evis, staring at him expectantly. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing, not wanting to offend her. “It looks delicious, honey. Can I have a bite?”

He pretended to scoop some up into his hand, then proceeded to fake chew. “It is delicious. That’s gotta be the best cake I’ve ever had.”

“Well is mama gonna eat a slice?” It was almost like the girl didn’t realize she was coated in a thick layer of dirt. She was carrying on a conversation like everything was normal.

Elvis was fully focused on his precious red carpets, wondering if they would ever recover from the stains they were no doubt about to endure. Thankfully you had heard what your daughter said and replied for him.

“I’m sure I would love it, but mama can’t eat anything that might hurt the baby, and that much sugar would be bad for me.” You pointed at your rounded belly. “But I’m sure daddy would love to eat another slice.” You shot your husband an apologetic smile, but the expression was soon replaced with shock.

“Winona, baby- don’t-” You hurriedly reached out for her, but it was too late.

Elvis felt something cold and wet press against his mouth. He parted his lips to let out a surprised yell, which was a terrible idea.

His daughter’s small hand was pressed against his mouth, force feeding him a fist full of mud. The earthy, gritty sludge had him doubling over the side of the porch to spit. His stomach churned as the horrific flavor hit his tongue.

“I’m ‘bout to be sick.” He grumbled, his eyes tearing up as he tried to keep himself from dry heaving.

Instead of sympathy on your end, he heard. . . laughter? Sure enough, you were doubled over as well, but for entirely different reasons. The white turtleneck that he was wearing under his jacket was stained, his perfect face marred with mud and chunks of grass. The usually well kept, perfectly put together man was an absolute mess. The ungodly moans and groans of disgust made the moment even more comical.

“Are you laughin’ at me?” He gasped, his large hands braced on his knees.

“If it makes you feel any better, you can slap me. Lightly.” You teased, only for another round of giggles to pour out of your mouth as he leaned back down, gagging dramatically loud.

“E-Elvis? Did you hate my cake that bad?” His daughter's small voice sounded dejected as she stared up at him, her big eyes and long lashes downcast.

He was too preoccupied with trying not to puke his guts out to correct his daughter when she called him by his first name.

No matter how disgusting it was, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for his reaction. He was sure that anyone else in his position would have acted the same way, but his daughter had him wrapped around her little finger. He should have just chewed and swallowed it; he couldn’t stand to see her upset. “Baby, I loved it,” A pause, then another gag.”I loved it so much that I just had to spit it out, that way I could get to enjoy the slice twice.”

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themultifandomgal · 6 months

Text

Shelby Clan- A New Shelby Member

While the men were away at war, YNs father died from a gunshot wound, but not only that her mother passed away from heartbreak. This caused YN to end up in care at the age of 14. Thankfully though that didn't last long though. Polly Gray decided to adopt the sweet, shy, quiet girl.

For the next next year, YN struggles to get close to Ada because of how loud she is, however Finn and YN get on well making YN feel comfortable. That all changes when Arthur, Tommy and John come home. YN finds it hard to fit into the loud rambunctious family. Now YN is 15 years old, she's still shy and quiet, nothing like her new family.

YN sits in the kitchen reading a book while the family tuck into their breakfast

"YN put that book down at the table" Polly scolds placing some food in front of her

"Sorry Polly" the shy girl says placing her book down making Finn laugh

"After breakfast I'd like you to head down to the market get us some more bread and milk"

"I'll send Isaiah with her" Tommy says. Out of all the Shelby's Tommy is the most protective of YN. They all are, but Tommy is the one who most protective

"She'll be fine Tommy"

"I'll still send Isaiah with her"

"YN eat up" Polly says again knowing there's not point arguing with Tommy because either way Isaiah will be going with YN.

"You cousins are protective of you aren't they" Isaiah says walking down the street with YN

"Adoptive cousins. And yes" YN quietly chuckles

"Got a new girl Isaiah!" a boy shouts towards the pair laughing. YN immediately lowers her head, looking at the floor

"Just ignore them"

"Oh come on. Why don't you share?" YN then feels a hand on her arm making her gasp

"Let her go" Isaiah says sternly

"Come on let's go, she's a Shelby" another guy says

"Yeah only adopted by then. She's just a sad little orphan. Forget it. Have her" Isaiah pulls YN away, instead of going to the market he takes her home knowing that she already has tears pricking her eyes.

Unfortunately for YN this guy doesn't leave her alone. She's subjected to being bullied at school and on the way home from school, but YN refuses to tell anyone what's going on. Polly can tell something is going on with her, she tries to talk to her, but YN pretends she's ok.

On the way home from school YN takes a short cut down by the canal

"Oi YN!" YN lifts her head up to see the same guys who have been bullying her since that day at the market. Her feet move quickly under her feet trying to get home as quick as possible "hang where do you think your going?" hands grab on her arms

"Please let me go"

"Haven't got your boyfriend here to help you now" the boy laughs

"Please don't hurt me" YN pulls away

"I think she needs a cool down don't you?" another boy chuckles

"No no please I can't swim" YN now yells with tears running down her face

"Aww what a shame" and with that YN is pushed into the cut. Slashing about and spluttering she tries to keep her head above water as best she can. Little do the boys know that Finn was playing down by the cut and saw the whole thing. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him and bursts into the betting shop where his brothers all are

"Tom" he breathes out catching everyone's attention "Tom it's YN. She's in the cut, she can't swim" Tommy look at John and Arthur signalling for them to follow him and Finn.

When they arrive they see a tired looking YN struggling to stay afloat while a group of boys are stood laughing. Tommy takes off his hat and wast coat jumping into the water without a thought

"You think this is fucking funny?!" Arthur yells walking over to the boys "your lucky your kids because if you weren't..."

"Arthur!" John yells "let's take you home to your parents" John and Arthur take the boys by their ears as Tommy pulls a shivering YN out of the water

"Let's get you home eh?"

"What the bloody hell happened!" Polly yells seeing YN with wet hair sat by the fire with a blanket around her shoulders

"YN has failed to tell us that she's being bullied at school. Today some of her classmates decided to push her into the cut. Thankfully Finn was there, came to get us"

"Where are your brothers?"

"Taking the idiots home" Polly then sighs

"Ok well let's get you into a warm bath" YN gives her adoptive mum a nod before following her.

Yes she's different from the Shelby's, but this only went to show how much they all see her as part of their family.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #polly gray #finn shelby #micheal grey

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shares-a-vest · 1 month

Text

@flufftober Spring Edition Day 9: Daisies

wc: 612 | Rated: T for Alcohol Consumption (Not Excessive - Wayne is sipping on a beer) | cw: Alcohol Consumption, Food Consumption

Tags: Claudia Henderson, Wayne Munson, Grandparents, Backyard, Found Family, Family Lunch, Steddie Being Silly in the Background

'Daisy Chains'

“Pa!” Joanie shrieks, waving wild and big.

Wayne chuckles at the sight of his granddaughter, sitting barely a few paces beyond the back porch, gesturing as if they are miles apart. He remains on the deck, watching over the backyard as he quietly sips from a chilled afternoon beer. Beside Joanie is Claudia Henderson, concentrating on the daisy chain in her hands that cascades off her lap in a long line off to the side.

They have been working on it for a good while now, ever since Wayne roused them outside so he could do the dishes. But Joanie appears as if she is growing distracted. A four-year-old’s attention span only goes so far, he thinks.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, setting his beer down on the glass patio table, hurried along when Joanie sits back on her haunches and frowns.

“Come here!” she whines, allowing herself to fall against Claudia’s shoulder with an oomph and a startled “ah!” despite him very clearly making his way over.

“I’m here,” he says, lowering to the ground not a few moments later.

He only just manages to stretch out his left leg (and his bad knee) when Joanie plops onto his lap.

She haphazardly brushes her hair off her face, revealing sun-kissed flushed cheeks as grins up at him, all toothy and excitable.

“Ganma is making me a daisy chain,” she nods.

Wayne had watched the pair from the kitchen window as they gathered the flowers, all scattered around the backyard where they grow wild.

“That so?” he asks, humouring Joanie as he looks past her to Claudia’s handiwork.

She picks up another daisy and makes an incision with her bare thumbnail, splitting apart the stem enough to loop the next flower through.

“Thought you were helping me, Missy?” Claudia jokes, threading and splitting another flower like she has worked up a practised rhythm.

“You do this,” Joanie begins to instruct, breezing past her Ganma’s quip entirely as she picks up another flower.

She is rough, pinching her index finger and thumb together to rip a hole in the flower’s stem rather than Claudia’s delicate tearing motion. It reminds Wayne of Eddie at that age, sitting on the patchy grass of the Forest Hills trailer park all those years ago – looking a lot more lonely but nonetheless doing the exact same thing.

His heart pains at the memory of that kid, uncomfortable in himself, quiet and secluded.

Eddie, now older and happier, is sitting under a tree on the far side of the yard with Steve sitting impossibly close by. He looks a sight under the tree, shaded and wearing all black despite the springtime sunshine.

Meanwhile, Steve looks to be devouring another admittedly, delicious sandwich courtesy of Claudia’s elaborate Family Lunch. A smorgasbord of choices. Deli meats and breads, salads and dressings. All of which she insists on preparing and bringing over herself.

Something falls out the bottom of the thing and the sandwich collapses completely. Eddie throws his head back and cackles before offering to help with the cleanup. A task that somehow involves licking his partner’s face. Steve splutters, leaning away as he attempts to pick at the mess that has spilled down his yellow polo shirt.

“Stevie…” Eddie whines through giggles when the other boy leans away with a frown.

Wayne rolls his eyes, knowing full well that at any moment, those two are going to say or do something a little too inappropriate for a family afternoon out in the sun.

But he will leave them be he thinks as he turns his attention back to his beaming granddaughter who is holding out a daisy ready for him.

More of my Flufftober Spring Edition posts here

#fluffspring2024 #day 9 #stranger things #claudia henderson #wayne munson #steddie dads #steddie as girl-dads #cw alcohol mention #cw food

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blukrown · 11 months

Text

To Do (Me) List - Gaz/Price

GAZ WEEK 2023 - SEXTING

Gaz is out at the shops when he receives a text from Price. It appears this Sunday morning Price woke to begin causing mischief.

Or read on AO3

Contains: NSFW, Sexting & erections in public,

It was mid-morning on a Sunday and Gaz found himself walking down the aisles at the local grocery store. Basket in one hand, phone in the other as he looked over his shopping list.

He usually went on these outings with Price, relishing how they would hold hands as they walked past the shelves. Talking quietly to each other as they went through their list, debating over brands and wondering over pricing.

The only reason Gaz was alone on this trip was that he had wanted Price to sleep in. Sunday was the one day Price swore off from any work, unless he drastically needed more time to complete things. Which had been the case for the past two weeks. Now, finally, Price had forsworn to not touch a single paper or pen so help him god. So, in an attempt to allow Price all the rest he needed, he had left Price still asleep in bed to go to the shops.

They had needed supplies anyway, just a few essentials like bread and milk. Gaz was even considering going all out and getting Price a whole breakfast and lunch to bring home with him, although he had not yet decided what to get.

Gaz paused in the bread aisle, looking over the selection and wondering if he should go freshly baked or presliced. Still debating over which, his phone suddenly went off in his hand. Making him pause to look.

John: Where are you?

Gaz couldn’t help but smile, clearly he had woken up and noted him missing from bed. He only hoped he hadn’t worried Price too much with his absence.

Kyle: Shops

Simple, Gaz was just hovering over taking a packet of sliced whole wheat when another text came.

Price: Shame. The beds cold

Gaz let out a small chuckle, forgetting how clingy and grumpy the older man was first thing in the morning. Deciding to play into it, he responded.

Kyle: I wont be long. Just picking up some things, we were low on milk. Need anything?

Gaz saw Price pause to reply, so Gaz had looked away and took the packaged bread from the shelf into his basket. But then he started to ponder over the fresh loaf again since it would be perfect for breakfast in bed for Price.

Speaking of, there was another buzz to notify another text. Then another soon after.

John: No. Just you.

There was then an attached picture that made Gaz audibly splutter as he beheld it. It was a picture of Price’s chest downwards, lounging in bed with the sheets kicked aside. He wore the same grey boxers Gaz had left him in but a visible tenting was occurring in the crotch. One of Price’s large, veined hands holding at the clothed base.

Gaz felt his skin warm and arousal pool in his lower stomach. Holy shit.

Price rarely sent things like this. In fact, it was usually Gaz who sent implicit or straight-up elicit pictures during the daylight hours, aiming for a reaction. Price was so used to the habit that he had Gaz’s messages on silent during the working hours. Knowing if it was an emergency, Gaz would call. But nearly all texts were crude and inappropriate for work.

To have that Price, sending something like this had Gaz snatching the fresh bread up and dumping it into his basket, not realising he now had two loafs. His thumbs immediatley on the screen keyboard and typing.

Kyle: Damn John

It was a bit of a dumb thing to say in response to a half-hidden dick pic, but at least it was an honest reaction.

To Gaz’s relief and horror, Price was quick to respond.

John: You going to help me?

Gaz felt himself biting his bottom lip. God, did he want to. But he was in the middle of shopping and still had several things to pick up.

Kyle: I can’t I need to finish shopping

Price: Suit yourself

It was a cold and very clearly dissatisfied reply and Gaz sighed. Boy, what a heart attack.

Thinking he was in the clear, he tucked his phone away as he walked to the milk fridge. Trying to ignore the slight chub in his pants, he did his best to focus on the task at hand. Price was a patient man, he would surely be able to-

There was another vibration from Gaz’s pocket and felt an immediate inkling of dread as he pulled out his phone. Price had sent another attachment, no message.

Curious, Gaz opened the attachment.

For context, Gaz was a young man and usually had the forethought to have his phone on silent when out in public. Clearly, he had forgotten to do so, as, when he opened the video it was audible. Not loud, but the noise was discernable to a few nearby people as the distinct noise of Price jerking off played through the speaker.

Gaz swore and hurriedly silenced the damn thing, not without attracting a few questioning looks from an elderly couple and a teenage staff member stocking shelves. Gaz felt the burn of embarrassment, hurriedly getting a jug of milk - not realising it was skim, not full cream - and retreated to a quiet aisle.

Now out of sight, Gaz, rather stupidly, reopened the video.

It was still of that same view, Price’s abdomen downwards but his briefs were gone. And it was a sight for eager eyes.

Price’s hand was on his own cock, fingers squeezing in a firm grip as he dragged from tip to base. Gaz could almost here the video - although he was certain it was on silent - Price eliciting sweet, shiver-inducing grunts with each pass of his hand. The slick noises and grunts being more than enough to be inappropriate even without the visual.

God, the visual.

Gaz could probably stare at the sight for hours. How Price’s broad chest and stomach rose in quickened breaths. How his thick, hairy thighs tensed in pleasure. How, at one point, a dribbling of pre glistened at the tip and slid down the shaft over Price’s hand.

Gaz could have probably watched it for ages if it wasn't for the sound of a trolly entering his deserted aisle. Forcing him to close the video to see the message conversation, hurriedly hiding his growing erection with his basket as a tired-looking nurse in scrubs walked past.

Still hiding the nearly fully sprout arousal, Gaz furiously texted out a message.

Kyle: Jesus John, you trying to kill me?

Price: Perhaps. You coming home or what?

Gaz quickly checked his list. He just needed to go to the butchers, then he was home free.

Kyle: Just give me 5 min I’m almost done

Price: Alright, but I’m not making any promises

Gaz took that as a threat, knowing full well that Price would have a fun time on his own if Gaz didn’t hurry the fuck up. Cursing under his breath, Gaz raced at speed-walking pace to the butcher’s section of the shop.

To Gaz’s silent misery, there was a cue. Two customers, waiting patiently for the one older butcher to complete orders. Gaz would have given up but Price’s favorite cut of bacon was sold there and if he was going to commit to this breakfast-in-bed ordeal, then dammit, he would commit .

So while he waited, Gaz went on his phone. Mindlessly scrolling throughsocial media, thankful his arousal was cooling down enough to not be visible anymore. Just as he was waiting next in line, Gaz got another notification from Price.

Gaz looked around, ensuring no unsuspecting hangers-on could see before daringly opening the message screen.

Price: Want you inside, Kyle. Can’t wait much longer

Along with the already jaw-dropping message was a picture. Price had positioned his camera without his hands, positioning himself with his legs spread and ass held open with his hands. His hole completely visible and already slickened with lube, widened from their previous night’s activities. Gaz felt himself harden again, felt how his jeans squeezed at his hardening cock as he examined each and every pixel of that damn photo. Fuck, he had to get home. Even such a delicious picture would surely not be as good as the real thing.

God, the real thing . Gaz could almost imagine it now. The hot, flushing heat as he pushed in. How Price would squeeze and tense around and below him. Would coo and hum out Gaz’s name like it was his favorite word. The pure filth of slapping skin and heaving breath as Gaz fucked into Price’s ass with hungered fury, leaving Price breathless and near keening. Praising him for being such a good boy, his good boy. Being so kind as to allow Gaz to cum inside, letting him paint his walls with his-

“Sir, order?”

Gaz gasped as he was snapped out of his lewd imaginings to look at the butcher.

“Uh- Um, yes!” Gaz blustered, fumbling with his phone and almost dropping it as he closed Price’s immodesty to find his list. “Er-Um, let’s see uh-”

Eventually, Gaz gave his order, embarrassing himself in front of the butcher and a few other customers who watched his rather pathetic mumblings. Gladly taking the paper-wrapped package, Gaz wasted no more time. Going through express checkout with his hands in his jacket pocket and pushing the ends of which down to hide an erection that was not planning on leaving.

Thanking himself for parking near the entrance, he raced to his car and got in. Making quick work of driving the less than 2 minutes home, safely. But with more than one shortcut as he couldn’t stand waiting at red lights on the main route.

Parking right outside Price’s house, Gaz was a hurried blurr of a horny mess as he got his keys and bag of shopping before speeding to the door. Just outside, rearranging his hands to unlock the door, to his horror, the keys slipped and fell to the ground.

Gaz almost wanted to groan, so desperate to get inside and have at his older partner who may surely be needing him still. Grasping for his keys, Gaz was so tempted to shout to Price’s bedroom window that he was nearly there and to please, please , don’t finish.

The door finally unlocked, Gaz abandoned his shopping on the counter and ran up the stairs. Forgetting about his jacket or shoes and opening the bedroom door.

Price was on the bed, hand between his legs as he fingered himself open. Pausing as he saw Gaz come in.

Price frowned, “Where the bloody hell have you been? Get over here.” He ordered although pink cheeks and out-of-paced breaths contradicted the bite in his tone.

“Yes sir,” Gaz said agreeably, not even bothering to strip. Going straight to the bed and climbing atop.

“Hurry,” Price said in a hastened but eager voice, legs welcoming Gaz between them.

Watching eagerly as Gaz pulled his cock out and stroked himself a few times to reach pure fullness. No foreplay, no teasing, Gaz aligned himself and pushed inside.

Both men gasped as bliss overtook them. Barely even pausing for a second, barely even savoring it before Gaz began to move.

Fucking into Price with eager fervour, hands at the older man’s waist to keep him steady and making each thrust smooth. Pressing in until the hilt, hitting that most pleasing of spots that made Price almost yelp each time.

Price must have built himself up a sizable amount before Gaz arrived, needing only a few moments of fevered thrusts before he was warning Gaz.

“‘M close. Kyle, I’m close. Fuck, don’t fucking stop. Even after I cum don’t stop till you finish, alrigh’? You’ll be a good boy for me and cum inside, ok? Be good and take everything that you need.”

Gaz could only nod, his brain half melted by pleasure as he just kept going. Hips slapping against lower thighs gasps and groans unrestrained and unabashed.

Price did not even reach to touch his ignored, irritated cock. Cumming untouched with just Gaz’s deep, pleasurably strokes to guide him through. The older man’s hands holding- no grasping onto Gaz’s hips. Tugging him, urging him to go deeper with each thrust even as his climax had him crashing.

Wanting to obey, wanting to take what was his, Gaz pushed Price’s legs forward. Knowing Price’s flexibility, he bent Price into a mating press mounted half on top and fucked into him, unbidden and selfishly taking what he wanted. Having at Price as he had wanted to all the way home from the shops. Paying him back for embarrassing him in public, risking people seeing him in an unpleasantly aroused state.

Gaz came not long after, whining Price’s name and soothed by soft croonings from his partner. “Good lad. So good for me. You fucked me so well, take what you want. Fill me up and make me all yours. That’s it. Good boy.”

Gaz spilled inside and painted Price’s walls with his seed. The bedroom quickly fell silent apart from harsh breaths as Gaz stilled. Giving both of them a moment to calm and relax, Gaz slowly pulled away and out. Leaning over to kiss at Price’s cheek and forehead that was slickened with cooling sweat.

“Jesus, for an old man you sure have a youthful libido.” Gaz said teasingly.

Price snorted, kicking at Gaz to get off him. “Piss off, need a shower.”

“Go ahead. I’ll make you breakfast.” Gaz said as he got to his feet and tucked himself back into his pants.

Price smiled, “You’re too kind. You spoil this old man.” His smile then disappeared as he noticed Kyle’s attire, still wearing jeans, jumper, jacket and shoes. “Did you just fuck me, in your shoes, on our BED?!”

Gaz - having been lust blind and not even thinking to strip before arriving by Price’s side - looked down at himself. “Ah, shit. My bad, John.”

“You’re bad- You probably got dirt all over our bed!”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass! Get the bed cleaned!”

“What about breakfast?” Gaz said, eyes softening in a pleading look to fight back against Price’s annoyance.

“That can wait.” Price said with gritted teeth as he got to his feet. “Bed first, then breakfast.”

Gaz sighed, visibly moping. “Yes, sir.”

Price must have taken pity, his irritation ebbing to step close and kiss him on the forehead. “And don’t go out on your own next time. Wait for me, you young ones are so impatient.”

Gaz could only laugh, following his partner’s demands and getting a clean set of sheets.

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