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starkwlkr · 3 days

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teacups and princesses | max verstappen

an: i’ve never been to disneyworld/land so sorry if anything is wrong lol

Max had promised Ophelia a trip to Disney World whenever they made it to Miami. That’s all the little girl could talk about. She even made a list of all the things she wanted to do and characters she wanted to meet. Max would do anything to see his baby girl happy so your little family of three arrived to America earlier than you usually would so Ophelia could spend a day at Disney.

Max wanted her day to feel magical so he bought her an identical sleeping beauty dress and pink glittery flats instead of those plastic heels that came worth the dress.

“Papa, you have to wear the ears!” Ophelia pointed at the Mickey wars that were on display. “Please!”

“You think papa would look cute in them?” Max grabbed her hand and walked with her to the store. You couldn’t help but take a picture of them.

“Yes! And mama can wear this one!” Ophelia pointed to the Minnie ears.

“Oh, mama is going to look so beautiful in these. Can you pick some ears for me? I want to look beautiful like mama.” Max grabbed the Minnie ears and placed them on your head. He then took his phone out and took a picture of you.

Ophelia was taking the job of finding the perfect Mickey ears for Max very seriously. She had changed her mind at least four times. When she spotted the perfect ones, she immediately grabbed them and showed them to her dad.

“I love them, phee. Here, put them on.” He crouched down so Ophelia could place the ears on his head.

“You look pretty! But mama looks prettier.” The girl giggled.

“I’ll take that.” Max chuckled.

After paying for the ears, the first stop was a ride that Ophelia had been wanting to ride for a while. The line for the teacups was a little long, but Max kept Ophelia entertained by asking her the most random questions.

“If you were a any color of the rainbow, which one would you be?”

Ophelia thought about it. Orange? No, she didn’t like it. Blue? Not even close.

“I wanna be every color!”

“That’s what I was going to say!” Max replied.

“What about you mama? What color of the rainbow would you be?” Ophelia asked you.

“I would be red. I love the color red.” You nodded.

“Traitor!” Max said jokingly.

After a while, it was your turn to ride the teacups. A while back Ophelia had told Max she wanted to ride the pink teacup so Max, wanting to be the best dad ever, raced to get to the pink teacup first.

“You know you were the only adult running for a teacup, right?” You laughed at Max. You helped Ophelia get into the teacup.

“If my girl wants the pink teacup, she’s getting the pink teacup.”

When the ride started, you all turned the wheel as fast as you could since Ophelia wanted to go super fast. Hearing your daughter laugh was like a sweet song that you never wanted to end.

“Faster!” Ophelia yelled.

You looked at Max. The smile on his face never left. It warmed your heart seeing him so happy.

When the ride ended, you were all tired from turning the wheel. You were pretty sure your arms were about to fall off, but it was worth it.

“Where to next, princess Ophelia?” Max questioned.

“I want to meet Mickey and Minnie and Sleeping beauty and Cinderella . . .” She listed all the characters she wanted to meet.

Of course Max made it all possible. He never broke his promises when it came to you and Ophelia.

As you walked around, you were on the search for sleeping beauty. Ophelia was getting disappointed that she was no where to be found, but her dad assured her that she would meet sleeping beauty.

“Phee, look over there.” You pointed towards a small group of children that were gathered around Princess Aurora.

Ophelia looked and practically fainted at the sight of her favorite princess. “Mama! Papa! It’s sleeping beauty!” She pointed at the blonde princess.

“Let’s go!” Max grabbed Ophelia’s hand.

When you got to where sleeping beauty was, Ophelia had gone shy. She was in the presence of her favorite Disney princess, how could she not be shy?

“Look at you! We have matching dresses! Oh, I love your shoes!” Princess Aurora told Ophelia.

“My papa got them for me.” She said in a low tone.

“Well your papa definitely picked the most beautiful shoes for you. They’re so glittery, I love them. Can I keep them?”

“But they’re too small for you!” Ophelia laughed at the thought of the princess wearing tiny shoes.

“You’re right,” the princess said sadly. “But maybe we can ask someone with magic to make the shoes bigger?”

“Wait! My papa knows where to buy these shoes but bigger for you! And then we can match more!”

You and Max watch the whole interaction with smiles on your faces. It was too cute.

“You know, Ophelia asked me when are is she going to have a baby brother because she’s our princess and now we need a prince.” Max told you.

“And what do you think?” You ask him.

“I think . . . that’s she’s right.”

“A boy. A mini you.” You kissed Max. “Just you, me and our little girl and boy, sounds like the perfect dream.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv33 #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #dad!max verstappen

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wifeyoozi · 3 days

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🍚 boyfriend!woozi headcanons (sfw + nsfw) this accidentally came out so sweet pls I am down bad sucker for softcore uji

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's tsundere™ like literally head over heels for you but keeps a straight face about it

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's almost constantly thinking of you no matter what he's doing making it so hard for him to work sometimes (figuratively and literally)

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who regularly calls you when he's on tour and keeps you on video call whenever he's free even if you two aren't talking

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who casually gets you little and big gifts and acts nonchalant about it when internally he's literally melting from the way you burst of joy, even if it's just a cat keychain he gifted you.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who does not shut up about how amazing his girlfriend is to all of his friends almost without realising it

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's literally so grateful to have you in his life and is so serious about it he literally thanks God to let him have you in his life.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves nothing more than holding you in his arms and everytime he holds you, it looks like he's holding his whole world in his arms (he pretty much is)

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's shy to even hold your hand in public but will NOT stop touching you and clinging on you whenever you're home

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's heart literally melts when you come to his studio with warm (homemade) food to take care of him when he doesn't take care of himself.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who feels all of his stress evaporate when he looks at your smile.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves kissing you and making you feel loved in the bed you share.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's a service dom and makes every night you spend intimately only about you, loves making you feel like you are the most beautiful thing in the world

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who is practically a god at making you cum, he's THAT good with his mouth, fingers and dick

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who knows how rarely he gets to take you properly in bed with his busy schedule so he makes sure you're pleasured all night long, putting you to sleep only around early morning after a good aftercare and cuddling.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who cannot fall asleep as peacefully unless you are cuddling against him like a bear, making him feel all warm and loved and safe.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who tends to get horny when you come to his studio wearing skimpy clothes.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi with whom studio sex is literally canon. He will make you sleep on his lap cockwarming him as he finishes his work

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who would put up with mingyu for a whole evening just to make dinner for you if it meant he could see you all happy and jumpy and excited like that.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves doing the silliest and simplest things with you, like brushing your teeth or watching cartoon/anime or going on late night walk, just because it's with you.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who literally has heart eyes everytime he looks at you and he cannot stop it even if he wanted to.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves giving you a head, he's so fucking pussy drunk

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who also loves your boobs, not just sexually but also emotionally, like they are his personal stress balls that he gotta get a handful of everytime he's stressed.

🍚 boyfriend!jihoon who occasionally holds you and cries, apologising prefusely for not being good enough, for not giving you enough time and attention that you deserve, for not being able to love you like he wants to, even when you keep telling him he's more than you have ever wanted and how much you love him regardless and how happy he's made you feel.

🍚 boyfriend!jihoon who really wants to understand the lengths to which he loves you, and even when he can't verbally tell you always, he would do it with his actions by doing something silly like writing a song for you and having seokmin or seungkwan sing it as he plays his guitar, unable to meet your eyes with how shy he gets but cannot let go of the smile that plasters on his face.

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kenntolog · 2 days

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Other than CoolBF! sukuna and loser gf! Reader, I can't believe many people aren't talking about loner! Choso 😭😭 it's so cute?? 😭 The MYRIAD of things that can happen to them like reader asking choso to do make up on him because 1. It's cute and 2. She wants to practice her make up skills 😭 both are cute

𝝑𝝔 an: thank u thank u thaaank uu, lovely anon!! hope you enjoy this <33 read more here!!

choso literally teleports to your side as soon as you call out for him from your bedroom. he puts away every task he had in hand and walks into your room, giving you a questioning look before he notices you sitting on your bed with a pile of cosmetic stuff by your side. you beckon him to come sit with you and crawl on his lap, making him hiss from the unexpectedness.

"choo~" you cup his cheeks with both hands and beam at him brightly. "can i do your make up?"

honestly, you can do anything you want to him as long as you're in his lap and he can run his hands all over your body, just like he's doing now. so he just smiles at you lovingly and nods in agreement, his heart warming when you squeal in happiness and lean down to peck his cheeks repeatedly.

it's also a bonus that he gets to be so close to you and listen to your endless rambles and watch your expressive face, one of his favorite things to do. to be honest, half of the things you say he doesn't understand generally, but he still nods and says 'sure' whenever you look at him for confirmation.

you put a lot of stuff on his face, he has no idea what is a 'primer' or 'conceaaler', but he knows what is a moisturizer since you force him to at least do that every morning and night. you dab about a million products on his face with a spongy thing while you hum along to your favorie songs and tell him to shut up whenever he joins you too.

"choso! you're gonna ruin the lip combo, stop!" "sorry, pup."

when it's time to put on eye makeup, choso has the opportunity to witness the cute face you make whenever you’re extremely focused on something; brows pinched together and the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth as one of your hands tilts his face to the right angle while the other glides the eyeliner over his eyelid. it kind of tickles and he has the urge to tickle you back, but he doesn't want to ruin your hard work so he just stays silent until you are finished.

"oh!" you exclaim as you pull away to look at him. your eyes are glimmering with joy and pride so he takes it that he doesn't look like a clown. "cho, you look so pretty!"

you give him a small mirror, "i do?"

one thing that surprises him is that his dark undereyes are almost fully covered while the tattoo on his nose is visible. his lips are also not colourless anymore, now contoured with soft pink and a covered with a lipstick that's a bit darker and a gloss. there's a matching shade of artficial blush covering his cheeks and his brows look more neat. his eyes have curled lashes and drawn ends, looking more graceful than ever.

"do you like it, choso?"

"if you like it, then i love it."

your smile is so wide that choso can't help his own from stretching on his coloured lips. if you're going to smile like this for him every time then he's ready to be your doll forever.

#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk choso #choso #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #fluff

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kirby0strombolli · 2 days

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Knee Socks

matthew sturniolo x reader

Summary: When Matt sees y/n in her Knee socks, he just can't resist her.

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Edging, Giving head, I think that's it.

A/n: I know, I know, I do love Arctic Monkeys songs, but LISTEN TO IT!!

I sigh, frustrated.

The rain pelts against the windshield, blurring the streetlights into smudged streaks of light. Frustration churns in my gut as I grip the steering wheel tighter.

I left work early, unable to focus on anything but one thing: the picture she sent me while I was stuck in the office.

The image burns in my mind, fueling a growing ache towards my erection.

With each passing mile, my boner grows steadily, pressing uncomfortably against my pants.

I shift in my seat, trying to alleviate the tension, but all I can think about is the picture, hovering around in my thoughts, driving me wild with desire.

Finally, I pull into the driveway of my darkened house. Rain pounds against the roof of the car as I sit there for a moment, collecting my thoughts.

With a frustrated grunt, I slam the car door shut and trudge towards the front door.

To my surprise, the lights are still on inside, casting a warm glow through the windows.

You got the lights on in the afternoon,

I check my watch as I reach for the doorknob. Minutes before midnight. Despite the late hour, my heart quickens with anticipation as I step inside.

And the nights are drawn out long.

The familiar scent of her perfume fills the air, sending a shiver down my spine. I kick off my shoes and make my way through the dimly lit hallway, my pulse quickening with each step.

As I glance around the corner, my gaze is met with hers.

She was sitting in the corner, a sly smirk across her face, my sky blue lacoste t-shirt too big for her over her knee socks.

I just wanted to bend her over the counter, and fuck her, there and then, in her knee socks.

"Hey, baby." She says, biting her lower lip, making my head spin.

"Did you get those pictures?" She asked, batting her eyelashes up at me, a seemingly innocent question, but it was far from.

And you were sittin' in the corner with the coats all piled high,

And I thought you might be mine.

Ignoring her question, I begin unbuttoning my belt instead.

She lifts her arms up ever so slightly, caressing my face, causing the shirt she was wearing to ride up intentionally, exposing her thighs, which were only barely covered by the knee socks she was wearing.

In a small world, on an exceptionally rainy Tuesday night,

In the right place and time.

"Strip." I demand, my desire growing, minute by minute.

As she obeyed, slowly stripping, I couldn't help but pause and admire her semi-naked state as she began to slide my top off, leaving her in her matching set paired with her knee socks that made me weak in the knees.

I pulled my shirt off, determined to get what I wanted, and now. As she goes to take her knee socks off, I stop her, smirking lightly, "Keep them on."

She looks up at me with a sultry smile, her cheeks lined with a tinge of pink, "Wanna fuck me in them?" She asks, her freshly manicured nails creeping up my neck, making me shiver.

I bite my tongue, hard.

I didn't know how long I could maintain my composure before I ripped all of her clothes off and fucked her over the counter.

My eyelids flutter shut as she reaches upwards, tracing my jawline with her fingernails.

"Do you want to fuck me in them, Matthew?" She repeats, this time insistent.

When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste, And your knee socks.

"Fuck yeah, I do." I reply, licking my lips.

I let my trousers fall to my feet, and I step out of them, the growing tent in my pants painfully obvious.

Without looking up, I feel her grasp my jaw, smashing her lips onto mine. Although surprised, I don't hesitate to kiss back as I grip her hips tightly, backing into the wall.

The rain pounded against the window panes as our lips met in desire and lust, my erection growing with every minute.

I press her against the wall as I find her tongue prodding at my bottom lip. I take advantage, my tongue fighting for dominance, easily winning.

Groaning into the kiss, I feel her hands tangle in my brown curls, but then I remember that she needed a punishment.

I pull away suddenly, yanking her panties down, directing her to the counter, before she even has time to react.

"Bend over, Princess," I demand roughly.

She lets out a small shriek as I roughly push her against the cold kitchen counter, her naked lower half pressed against it.

I slap her ass harshly before yanking down my boxers, my dick springing out, the tip red and covered with pre-cum.

Without warning, I plunge my cock into her walls, she lets out a gasp, arching her back against my cock.

I grab her hips and pound roughly into her, one hand grasping her hair, holding her head up to whisper into her ear, "Not so brave now, are you?"

As I let go of her head, her head lolls back down, trying to reply, but failing, her words gibberish as I fuck her senseless.

I throw my own head back in pleasure, seeing stars from how her pussy clenched against my cock, how it was so perfect, how she could make me so hard just by thinking of her.

I bring my hands up to her white lace bra, and unclasp it expertly before bringing her tits into my hands, slowly massaging her nipples, in contrast to how fast I was pounding into her velvet walls.

"Don't stop," She whimpers, her legs trembling, and her chest heaving with sobs as I frantically hit her G-spot several times, cupping her breasts, making her moan weakly against me.

"You like that?" I tease, bringing my lips back down to her ear, only to be met with breathy moans from her parted lips.

"Shit, shit, shit..." She curses several times, her legs trembling as I mercilessly tighten my grip on her hips, plunging impossibly deeper into her, grazing her sweet spot, making her arch her back, moaning uncontrollably.

"Just like that..." She whimpers breathlessly, her back arching further as her lewd sounds power me to go on.

"Fuck, I'm almost there." I screwed my eyes shut, chasing my orgasm, and feeling her pussy clench tighter and tighter, I knew she was, too.

Then, a mischievous thought appeared in my head, a smirk forming on my face as I opened my eyes, a plan forming in my head.

I was going to edge her.

I let myself release into her, gasping as I shot my load into her throbbing pussy.

"Matt, fuck!" She cries out, her hips bucking up to mine needily.

Suddenly, just as she was about to come, I pull out harshly, pumping my cock, still in pleasure.

"The fuck?-" She whispered, confused, her voice nearly inaudible as she turned to face me, her elbows steadying her on the counter, cum steadily dripping from her.

I just smirk at her, not feeling sorry one bit, "On your knees, Sweetheart."

"But-" She starts before I interrupt her, bringing a finger to her red lips.

"I promise you'll get your time. Just after your punishment." I lick my lips, not hearing her protests, determined to get at least one more orgasm.

"Matty, please. I really need to come." She pouts, tilting her head to the side, in attempts to try to sway my decision.

"Sorry baby. After all, you were naughty. Sending me pictures at work, what did you think would happen, hm?" I reply, tilting her head up with my fingers to look at me, grazing her parted lips with my thumb.

"-It's not fair!" She exclaims, but as sees my face, she goes silent, getting on her knees, looking up at me with her wide doe eyes, making me go hard again.

"I'll make you come extra hard tonight, darling." She considers this for a moment, then upon realising she has no choice, she opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out as I lower my cock into her mouth slowly.

I feel her lick the base of my cock, and my eyes flutter shut as she takes it completely into her mouth, swiftly jerking off what she can't fit in her mouth.

I grasp her hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing her mouth onto my cock.

"Fuck." I groan, bucking up my hips to her mouth as she quickens her pace, my dick hitting the back of her throat multiple times, making her gag.

She begins to bob her head up and down, throwing me back onto cloud 9, my head tossed back in ecstasy.

"So good for me baby-" I whisper, barely able to talk, from the way she can take me like this.

She hums in response, the vibrations from her voice making me even closer to my orgasm than before.

I grasp her hair tighter, navigating her on my cock, but my grip loosens as I feel my climax arriving, faster than expected.

"I'm gonna..." But before I can finish my sentence, I feel myself come into her mouth once again, and I groan in pleasure as she swallows every last drop.

I slowly pull out, wiping the corner of her mouth with the base of my thumb, and massaging her head with my hands.

I take her hands, helping her up, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Such a good girl." I praise, gently lifting her up by her ass and settling her down on the couch.

"Mhm" She hums, her fucked out expression telling me she wasn't ready for Round 3.

Yet.

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witchywcmans · 1 day

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PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious.

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly.

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.”

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced.

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor. “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment. Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface.

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface.

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit.

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake.

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?”

#my fics #fic: please eat #laios touden x reader #laios touden smut #laios x reader #laios touden x reader smut #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #one shot: please eat

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coloursflyaway · 3 days

Text

Good Enough

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.000

Read on AO3

So, Edwin is in love with him.

Edwin loves him, and Charles genuinely never even considered the possibility of this, of them, before.

It might be because, back when he was still alive, his dad would have beaten the notion right out of him, but then again, his dad has been wrong about most things in his life, so fuck him.

So, Edwin is in love with him.

It’s… quite flattering, actually. To think that Edwin, who is beautiful and intelligent and educated, who can recite his favourite Keats poem by heart just as easily as tell you his favourite Mozart aria (it’s Konstanze, dich wiederzusehen from Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Edwin told him that, years ago), who knows spells and can read ancient Aramaic, who is the kindest, most brilliant person Charles has ever known, would love him.

Now, Charles knows that he is easy enough on the eyes, good with words and people, and has one hell of a swing if you give him a cricket bat, but the only reason he knows any Mozart aria is because Edwin showed them to him.

The only reason he knows Keats’ poetry is because Edwin would read them to him on slow, warm summer nights in the early 2000s.

The only reason he is here, is because Edwin let him stay.

So, it’s special, having someone like Edwin love him.

It’s fucking terrifying.

Because Charles is now holding the heart of the person he loves most in the world, and it’s a bigger responsibility than any he has ever taken on before.

He can’t fuck this up.

The thing is that nothing changes between them at all.

Charles isn’t sure if he expected it to, but what he is relatively certain about is that it most likely should. After all, it was an unexpected revelation, probably to both of them, definitely a shift in their relationship.

And yet, when Charles looks at Edwin, who is reading a novel whose name he cannot make out, curled up on the couch they have gotten for Crystal (and sometimes Jenny), he doesn’t feel different at all.

It’s still Edwin, his best mate, the boy that read to him when he was dying so he wouldn’t have to do it alone, who tries to smile whenever Charles shows him a new song he has fallen in love with, and occasionally fails hilariously at, who Charles would protect with his life and his soul and his cricket bat, no matter how high the stakes.

I love you the most, Charles thinks to himself, and smiles, because nothing about that has changed, either.

He has told Edwin that they would have forever to figure out the rest, and it’s the truth, technically speaking.

However, Charles doesn’t, because it’s Edwin and he has given Charles his heart and he doesn’t deserve to wait that long for an answer. It would be cruel in a way Charles cannot comprehend, and if there is anyone who doesn’t deserve more cruelty in their existence, it’s Edwin Payne.

The only problem with that fact is that Charles doesn’t know the answer.

He’s been thinking about it a lot, but the thing is, he’s never been in love before.

So he doesn’t really know what to compare his feelings for Edwin to, because, of course, they are greater than for anyone else, of course, Charles would sacrifice anything and anyone for Edwin, especially himself, of course, making Edwin smile is his favourite part of any day.

Because he loves Edwin, everything about him.

But is he, could he be, in love with Edwin?

Charles doesn’t know, nor does he know how to find out. It’s not like he hasn’t tried, but every novel he has paged through, every silly romcom he has watched, has been talking about butterflies in someone’s stomach, of seeing them in some new, golden light, of hearing violins playing when they speak, and Charles very much doubts that Edwin feels any of those things for him.

Otherwise he wouldn’t raise his eyebrows like that when he thinks Charles is being an insufferable little prick, he wouldn’t roll his eyes and tell him, “I know, Charles, you have told me a thousand times before”, whenever Charles brings up how much he wishes he could still taste things, or groan whenever Charles attempts to convince him to just try and let him put on some eyeliner.

(It’s just that Edwin would look so pretty like that, some kohl to bring out the warmth of his eyes, making them stand out even more than they do anyway.)

So all this talk of violins and sparkles and the need to give someone roses, if Edwin doesn’t feel that when he says he is love with Charles, then it’s pointless to consider, and anyway, those books and films describe people who have just met, not those who have known each other for twice as long as they were alive.

Maybe if he had just met Edwin, he would be hearing violins, Charles definitely thinks it’s possible.

Especially the violins in Konstanze, dich wiederzusehen.

“I just need some time alone”, Crystal says, putting on her jacket, while already opening the door. “And I am aware that that is a novel concept for the two of you, since you are basically attached at the hip, but for me, an alive human being, it’s really important to occasionally have a second of peace between almost dying and whatever we will have going on next.”

She stops to put on her shoes, almost falling over in the process, and Charles and Edwin share a look, a smile, and Charles thinks, I love you the most.

“Don’t follow me”, Crystal tells them, especially Charles, and it’s kind of cute, actually. “I’m going to get the biggest frappuchino Starbucks is legally allowed to serve me and I will not tolerate any ghostly company while doing that.”

Charles holds up his hands, still grinning, indicating his surrender in a battle he wasn’t aware they were fighting, and Crystal gives him a single nod before she walks out.

“So”, Charles starts, and turns around to face Edwin, who is already looking back, “what do we think this frappuchino she was talking about, is?”

Actually, there is one thing that changes between them after all.

It’s subtle, at least at first, but looking back, Charles isn’t quite sure how he managed to miss it for the few weeks that have passed. Maybe it was the shock of almost being forced to move on to the afterlife, the chaos of getting Crystal and Jenny settled in London, the fact that it seems to increase only slowly, incrementally.

Edwin has never been a physically affectionate person, completely contrary to how Charles is.

If it had been up to him alone, he would have hugged Edwin much more often, would have leant against him when they were looking through a book together, would have held hands to keep them from losing each other when things got hectic. But it wasn’t, and that was fine, so it was occasional touches instead, a hand on Edwin’s upper arm, his back, ruffling his perfect hair when he was doing something kind of dumb, kind of cute.

(That one always made him duck his head and smile, glance up at Charles through his lashes and allow a second to pass before he started fixing his hair again.)

Now, however, it’s… it’s not getting better, because there was nothing wrong with it in the first place, Edwin’s aversion to physical affection, but it is changing now.

It’s less that he initiates it, more than he allows it to happen more frequently. Sitting down next to Charles on the sofa instead of taking the armchair, allowing Charles’ hand to linger on his arm for a moment longer than expected, letting their shoulders brush when walking.

He’s not asking to be touched, not really, but something about it still makes Charles irrationally happy as soon as he catches onto it. Because Edwin deserves all the affection the world can offer, and Charles will always be here to give it to him.

So he reaches out in the morning, when the sun has just started to rise, and puts his hand on the curve of Edwin’s shoulder, right where it meets his neck, and points out that the clouds are turning the most beautiful pink. He throws his legs across Edwin’s lap when they settle down on the sofa at night, a book in Edwin’s hands, the tablet Crystal made him buy in Charles’. He pushes his fingers through Edwin’s hair, not to ruffle it, but just to pretend he can feel its softness against his skin.

It makes Edwin duck his head again, give Charles a little smile when looking up, and Charles thinks, I love you the most.

And thinks, I want to love you the most in every way you will have me.

“Jenny, I have a question”, Charles starts as soon as he has phased through the walls of her new butcher shop. It’s to her credit that she hardly reacts; the first time he had done that, she had thrown a meat cleaver right through his head. “What do you know about love?”

Instead of a knife, Jenny just throws him a weary look, an eyebrow elegantly arched. It makes Charles think of being scolded by the headmistress, a sensation that should be much more unpleasant than it is.

“Nothing”, Jenny answers and brings her cleaver down with a dull thud, separating flesh from bone, before looking up at Charles again. “No one ever knows anything about love and if they try to tell you otherwise, they are lying.”

There is a certain sense of finality in her voice and Charles knows he has been dismissed, no detention this time, but don’t dare to push it.

“Great”, he mutters, more to himself than to Jenny, “that doesn’t help me at all.”

“You should look at this, Charles”, Edwin says and turns the book towards him.

It’s late at night, Crystal having long since gone home and they are sat on the sofa, shoulders touching while they do their research. A new case has come up, and Edwin is trying to learn more about ancient Celtic runes, while Charles is pouring over a map of London’s underground; now, he looks up and at the page Edwin is showing him.

“We could add this to your bat”, Edwin explains, “it’s a rune for physical strength. Supposedly, it doubles whatever force you put into a hit.”

“Edwin, mate, are you trying to tell me I need help with hitting people?”

Charles is grinning, obviously teasing, and Edwin just scoffs, rolls his eyes.

And that is what Charles means; this isn’t birdsong and candle light, this is just how they always have been. This is what makes them them, even.

“Charles, do be serious”, Edwin replies, but there is affection in his voice, there is love. “I am perfectly aware that you can hit things very well, but that doesn’t mean that hitting them even better wouldn’t be an advantage.”

“I know. This is brills”, Charles concedes, and on a whim, nothing more than that, presses a quick kiss to Edwin’s cheek.

For a moment, he almost expects Edwin to admonish him, because this isn’t exactly something that they do, but instead he stares at him, before he ducks his head; Charles isn’t sure how he knows this, but if Edwin could, he would be blushing.

And it does something to Charles’ head, the thought that he would be able to make Edwin blush. It makes him stop dead in his tracks, look at Edwin not like he is seeing him for the first time, but like he could be looking at him for the rest of his existence and not get bored of it.

“Do you wanna do the honours of carving it? Since you were the one who found the thing?”, he asks just to say something, aware that his voice sounds slightly off, and thinks, I love you the most. I love you the most. I love you the most.

“Very well done, Charles”, Edwin tells him and clasps a long-fingered hand on Charles’ shoulder, peering down at the leprechaun he knocked out clean with his bat a few seconds before.

The rune really makes it pack a punch.

“I don’t think this will pose any further problems”, Edwin continues even as he crouches down to examine the passed-out form crumpled on the ground. He prods at it gently.

“It fucking better”, Charles replies, resisting the urge to pull Edwin away from the leprechaun, just in case that touching it might have some kind of magical side effect. “And if not, I’ll punch it right back out. I’ve got an Edwin Payne-improved bat after all, it won’t stand a chance.”

Just for good measure, he twirls the bat around once, twice.

This has always been one of his favourite parts of the job, the simple pleasure of knocking someone out before they get the chance to hurt his friends.

Edwin looks up at him from where he is crouching, and Charles grins at him, metaphorical adrenaline running through his non-existent veins still. He would punch out a bear if Edwin asked it of him.

Before he can say anything else, though, Crystal clears her throat from behind him, sounding decidedly less impressed.

“That’s really cool, yeah. New bat, I get it”, she says, walking around Charles so she, too, can see the unconscious leprechaun. “But you do remember that we actually wanted to talk to him, right?”

They get to talk to the leprechaun in the end, who turns out to be about as obnoxious as expected, but does admit to stealing the heirloom they were looking for for his pot of gold.

He even gives it back, but only after Charles has started twirling his bat again.

“And another satisfied customer”, Charles comments as they return to the agency, flinging his backpack into the corner.

“Client, you mean”, Edwin corrects, but still smiles at him, and pats the space next to him as soon as he sits down on the sofa. Charles flings himself down without a second thought, legs landing somewhere across Edwin’s laps, one of his hands settling on Charles’ ankles.

This is new, at least to some extent, and Charles loves it, the feeling of Edwin’s fingers on him. It feels right, somehow.

I just really love you the most, he thinks.

“Yeah, whatever”, he concedes and looks over at Crystal, who is watching them with something in her eyes that Charles cannot quite place. Not bad, per se, just…. Strange. “Doesn’t sound that good though, does it? And anyway, the most important thing is that they’re satisfied, right? Passed on right to the afterlife, no worries keeping them here any longer.”

“As if it’s only worries that could keep one here”, Edwin replies, his tone as dry as the desert, but making Charles laugh anyway. “We should be the best example for that.”

“You know what I mean!”, he shoots back, “It isn’t like with us, is it? Don’t think that the client was kept back by meeting the love of their life, were they now?”

It spills from his lips like nothing, without Charles thinking about it for a single second.

He’s still laughing, but Edwin’s fingers have stopped where they were gently stroking across the arch of his foot, and then Charles realises it, and for the first time, hears silence.

For the first time since they got back from Hell, they part when Crystal leaves.

The conversation had been stilted after Charles’...slip up? blunder? confession? and although it had been obvious that all three of them had been trying, it had been impossible to get things back on track.

So, Charles leaves with Crystal, telling Edwin he will walk her home, although that is something he has never done before, and Crystal lets him, although he is fairly certain she wouldn’t under normal circumstances.

She doesn’t need anyone protecting her from the city she grew up in after all.

“How do you know you’re in love with someone?”, Charles asks after they have walked in silence for a few minutes. He can’t think of a way to cushion the question, how to make it less awkward to ask, so he doesn’t bother with it at all.

“This is about Edwin?”, she asks, seemingly to clarify, and Charles nods mutely, not looking up at her. “I’m not sure. Especially not when it comes to the two of you. For Edwin, I could have seen from miles away that he was in love with you, even if he hadn’t reacted like he did when we first met. For you… you love him, anyone with eyes could see that, but if you’re in love with him, I think you have to figure that out yourself.”

“Do you know how it feels, though? Being in love?”, he asks, just in case Crystal can at least tell him that.

“I’m not sure”, she answers after a moment, then links their arms together, pulling Charles closer. “I think that’s different for everyone. But I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out what it feels like to you if you let yourself.”

He walks Crystal home, but when she asks if he wants to stay, Charles just shakes his head.

Edwin is back at the agency, and Charles isn’t sure exactly in which state, what he is thinking, and Charles cannot allow that. At least not for long.

What he does, though, is taking a little detour to the park not too far from their building.

It’s the first time he really pays it any mind, even if it’s most likely not the first time he’s been there, but now, Charles lays down on the grass, looking up at the night sky.

London is too bright for him to see many stars, but there’s a few of them; Edwin would surely be able to point out a constellation or two.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it.

Edwin isn’t here, and yet he is with Charles anyway, always, in every moment of his existence.

Sighing, he scrubs a hand down his face. There’s no way around it, it has to be now, and it has to be the right answer, the one he truly means, because Edwin deserves nothing but that.

No false hope, and no heartbreak that might be taken back along the line.

So, he thinks of Edwin, of his elegant hands and the swagger in his walk when he feels confident, of the colour of his hair and of his eyes, of the curves and slopes and sharp cuts of his face.

He loves that face, has seen it with every possible expression painted across of it, and still loves it.

The stars above are dim and partly hidden behind the clouds, so Charles lets his eyes slip shut, and imagines coming home to the agency and taking Edwin’s hands in his.

They would be just a little smaller than his own, his fingers slender and yet so capable, and if he could still feel, Charles is convinced they would feel cool against his skin.

He imagines pulling Edwin close and holding him like he has always wanted to, burying his face against the side of Edwin’s neck and pretending he can breathe in his scent. Having Edwin sneak his arms around Charles’ waist and cling to the back of his jacket, like he doesn’t want to let go again.

In his imagination, it feels a little like the hug they shared after being granted asylum on Earth, but it would be entirely different, because it wouldn’t be out of relief.

Instead, it would be just them, embracing to feel the other close.

And he thinks of pulling back from the hug, seeing Edwin smile and kissing the curve of his lips, nipping at them until he can make Edwin laugh and teasing his mouth open to lick into it.

It would be like kissing Crystal, kind of, only that-

Only that it wouldn’t be like that at all.

He runs back to the agency, as fast as his spectral feet can carry him.

Edwin is sitting right where he left him, almost like he hadn’t moved an inch since Charles walked out of the door, and he hopes to all deities he can think of that it isn’t so; knows, at the same time, that it is.

“Hi”, Charles greets, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and Edwin nods and gives him a smile, brittle and unsure and hopeful, all at once.

“Hello, Charles. Did Crystal get home safe?”, he asks, and it’s so painfully polite it makes Charles cringe.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, of course she did”, he responds, trying to figure out how to begin saying what he needs Edwin to know, but Edwin beats him to it.

“Did you mean it?”, Edwin asks, breathes out the question like he still has lungs to do so, and it’s in that moment that Charles is more certain of his answer than anything else he has ever thought, because Edwin sounds small, sounds vulnerable and breakable and yet so fucking hopeful, and Charles wants to pick him up and cradle him against his chest and never let go again.

“Yes”, he says, and it’s sunrise and violins and bouquets of roses all at once, it’s a single word that changes the world around them. “Kind of. Let me explain.”

And Edwin nods, sits back with his hands in his lap and all Charles can think about is that those same hands belong holding a book, resting on the top of Charles’ legs, which should be flung carelessly across Edwin’s lap, just because Charles wants to be near him.

“You’re the love of my life, no matter what”, he starts, crouching down in front of Edwin so he can take his hands; they look so lost. “You have been for decades. I love you the most of anything in the world. I will always love you the most. Every time I look at you, it’s just that on repeat in my head. I love you the most.”

He ducks his head, laughing softly, because it sounds silly now that he says it out-loud, but when he looks back up, there are tears brimming in Edwin’s eyes, making them shine even brighter.

His lips are parted and for just a moment, Charles thinks about kissing them.

“And you know, I still can’t say that I am in love with you back, because you don’t deserve a lie, but what I can say, what I can promise you, is that I could fall in love with you. And that I want to. More than anything.”

A single tear rolls down Edwin’s cheek, glistening in the dim light, and Charles looks at him, and thinks, I do. I am. I love you the most.

“Could that be enough?”, he asks, squeezing Edwin’s hands in his. “At least for the start?”

And Edwin nods so frantically that more tears spill over, wetting his face, and Charles can’t help but laugh; how strange to think that making Edwin cry for once is not his biggest fear, but something that fills his heart with joy to the point of bursting.

“Okay. Brills, that’s-”, he replies, and can’t keep himself from smiling so wide it would hurt if he was still alive. “So, um. Can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you right now.”

Again, Edwin nods, and he is smiling, too, looks so happy that Charles thinks heaven must be overrated, because nothing in the whole of existence could compare to this.

He thinks of the scene he pictured in the park of holding Edwin close and how much in pales in comparison to this, to holding Edwin’s hands and watching him glow with love and hope and warmth.

And leans in to find out if the same is true for kissing him.

(It is.)

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #i have written 10k for them now it has been 4 days since i watched the show #what is happening

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elaci · 3 days

Note

could i request a jealous ex valeria fic where she tries to get the reader back? here's a song recommendation: universe by thuy 💗 she makes the best music

thank you for the rec it is absolutely playlist worthy,, and yes! i love the jealousy play so much - wasn't sure if you wanted smut or now, so I kept things clean, but I'm more than happy to make a steamier part two :')

Jealousy Bites

You try to move on, to date other people, but Valeria has an issue with letting go of what she once held so close. She takes the safety of your heart into her own hands.

cw: drinking, some jealousy, allusions to sex at the end, left it open ended for a part 2 if anyone wants that.

ex!Valeria Garza x reader | req rules ⁞ request here | crossposted on ao3

The bass-heavy music echoing through the bar does nothing to soothe your sullen mood: you've been stood up. Again.

Two empty glasses sit on the table in front of you, both emptied by you as you sat and waited for a woman who you were sure would be different than the rest. She had seemed so enthusiastic about this date, texting nonstop for days beforehand, just to leave you waiting for an hour with no contact.

You sigh, left alone with a bruised ego in a bar with drinks twice the price they need to be. This is the third time you've been stood up, a pattern of desertion that has you wondering if you're the problem. You can't help but lean back and think of Valeria, how she'd rather drop dead than leave you alone and waiting like this.

You almost want to cry, join the fray of lonely souls drowning their sorrows in a whiskey glass, but you know better than to let your guard down in a place like this. No matter the stress of once loving Valeria, she taught you things about safety and self-preservation that you'll carry for life. Your well-being was always her first thought. You wonder, only for a moment, if you'll ever find someone with such regard for you, one who lives a less unholy life. One you can support in their endeavours, not worry about coming home to a ransom letter or cold corpse.

The universe has funny ways of bringing your thoughts to fruition. You used to sit up at night and wait, just like this, for your lover to come home safe. And when she would, she'd kiss you sweetly and tell you not to stay up, that she could handle herself. You could always smell the gunpowder on her, though. You could always see the split knuckles she'd try to hide. You could always feel the stress in her words as she'd talk about the most domestic of things.

A life of sleepy mornings and family dinners was never going to be her thing. And so, you shed yourself of the worry, the constant heartache, and the fear of not knowing if your love was safe or facing down the barrel of a gun. You miss her, sure. Her touch, and her sweet words, and her loving.

You miss not getting stood up like this.

A glance around the bar gives you a few sights, none of which please you. The bartender serves a man who should have been cut off three drinks ago, he sways as he downs the glass and asks for another. A husband and wife dance in a tipsy love surge to the song that plays from the speakers, his hands on her waist and her eyes so full of love. A stocky man, who sits at a table on the other side of the bar, locks his eyes onto you.

What? You look the man up and down, he’s one you recognise, but you don't know where you've seen him. He’s covered in tattoos, a mean look in his eyes— you could guess his career by the way he carries himself, but your suspicions are confirmed when he shifts and reveals who he’s sitting next to.

Valeria Garza, who watches you with an intensity that could feat her goons ten times over. You remember now, you’ve seen him around her house, he’s played driver as the two of you got handsy in the backseat of her newest and prettiest car, he’s taken a bullet for Valeria. But you don’t care about him now that your eyes have met hers.

Everything rushes back to you, every conversation spent in the early hours of the morning about how long she’d be gone and when she’d call to let you know she’s not been shot dead. Every goodbye kiss and welcome home embrace in the foyer of a home way too big for the two of you. Every day you spent convinced that Valeria Garza would be the woman you’d love to the grave and back.

“What the fuck?” you mouth the words to her from across the room. She watches you with expressionless eyes, raising her whiskey glass to her lips and sipping at it as if her gaze isn't intoxicating enough. Her right-hand man leans in and whispers something to her, though she doesn’t reply— her eyes are stuck on you.

You’re suddenly struck with a desire to be anywhere else but here, in this bar, under the watch of who you're desperately trying to forget exists.

And so you stand up. All you can do is walk out, head downcast to avoid eye contact with Valeria as she watches you run away. You need another drink.

It’s hard to ignore the stares on your back as you weave your way to the exit and step outside. The cool night air on your exposed skin isn't enough to mollify your beating heart, but you feel better for being outside. You lean against an outside wall made of brick and try to take a few deep breaths.

Was seeing her a coincidence? Did she know you were going to be there? What did she think, watching you down glass after glass waiting on a rebound that never came?

The more you question, the louder your heart beats in your ears until the sound is familiar and the outside world feels faint. Fuck this, you think, you just need to get home and pretend you never left in the first place.

You reach into your pocket for your phone to call a ride with, but your hand withdraws empty: you left your phone on the table inside. You had kept it face-up on the table to count the minutes your date was late. You feel stupid, but you aren’t getting far without your phone. You turn to run back inside and grab it, but you spin directly into a body you know from the inside out.

Valeria stands straight, a leather jacket covering the arm you cling onto to steady yourself. She smells the same, like cigarettes and vanilla, and she's looking at you with eyebrows raised — smug.

“Shit,” you try to sidestep Valeria, but she takes a gentle grip on your arm. “I just need to run inside, I left my pho—”

Valeria presses your phone into your free hand, her lips pressed together in a self-satisfied smile that has your blood running hot. A tilt of her head, she takes in every last inch of your face and then speaks. “You shouldn't leave your things lying around, amor – anyone could have taken it, you’re lucky it was me.”

“No soy tu amor,” you manage, and pocket your phone, looking down to avoid the piercing stare Valeria is wasting energy on. You want to turn and leave, but something supernatural keeps your feet glued to the ground.

“You’re out here alone,” she says, almost pouting in a faux show of mockery when your eyes meet hers again. “It’s not safe.”

Safety has always been a kick of hers, making sure you were within arms reach at all times. As she holds one of your arms just now, the scene feels comfortingly familiar.

“If you must know, Valeria,” you say pointedly, though make no moves to put distance between the two of you. “I was meeting someone. For a date.”

You don’t know what you’re trying to do, whether it's to make her jealous or put her off, but it doesn’t work regardless. Valeria smiles and leans in closer to you. When she speaks, her words are sharp, but low enough that your skin aches at the sound.

“I don’t see anyone, amor. Did you get stood up?”

“No,” you pull back a little, ready to defend your lonesomeness when you catch the predatory smile pulling at Valeria's full lips. A wave of realisation washes over you, dissolving your being like sand on the shoreline — you didn’t get stood up, your date got scared off.

You glance down and, sure enough, spot the handle of a gun sticking up from Valeria's waistband. That, paired with the bulky men she takes charge of, is an insufferable recipe of intimidation, and she’s used it to chase away your next chance at a fresh start. You wonder if she was there with your last date, watching you from the shadows as you waited like a loser for someone she’d scared away an hour beforehand.

“Are you serious, Valeria?” You furrow your eyebrows. “You’re the reason my date didn’t show?”

“Well,” Valeria clicks her teeth and shrugs. “Any woman who scares that easily isn't worth a night with you, hermosa.”

"Not my name."

She grabs hold of both of your hands before you try to turn and leave. You stop resisting to give her your attention once again and Valeria sighs. “Look, amor,” she begins. Her voice drops a few octaves lower, and her tone is less teasing, softer. “You aren't in my bed anymore, that doesn't mean you're safe in anyone else's."

You swallow. “You’re a fucking psycho. You know that? I don't belong to you anymore, Valeria. I've moved on."

Valeria shakes her head slightly and brings her lips close to yours, you can feel her breath on your face. “Do you think I'm stupid? You'll do anything to forget about me, amor. It's not good for a lady, trust me.”

You shake your head. "I can't be with someone knowing they might not come home to me the next day."

Valeria rolls her eyes at your remark and lets her forehead rest against yours. Her eyes bore into yours like an art critic at a gallery, she dissects you, every last nerve in your body is seen wholly by her. You’re trapped between a rock and a hard place; you can feel yourself wavering, but you know that the moment she speaks you'll be lost in the grief of giving her up.

"Do you think I'd let myself miss a morning with you? You weren't with a soldier, amor, you were with a woman who would kill hundreds to come home to you. You can hate the life I live, but I told you I'd protect your heart. I'm keeping my word."

You open your mouth to speak but Valeria raises her index finger against it, stopping your protestations.

"Listen," she half-growls, though something warm laces her words. She's not trying to scare you or dominate you into loving her again, but for a woman who sates conflict with a gun, her words are gentle in your ears. "You aren't my prisoner, amor. You never were. Do what you want, but know I can't give up protecting you. These dates, they could hurt you worse than I ever did, and I know I hurt you."

A flash of fear glosses her eyes; she’s not finished, not by a long shot, but you can't handle the waves of emotion that hit you when she looks so genuinely distressed—it makes you sick to your stomach, makes you remember the worst part of loving Valeria Garza: the thought of losing her.

You move forward, pressing your lips to hers in a silent message of something loving.

Valeria wraps her arms tightly around you, her mouth opens as you kiss hungrily, one body sinking into another. The kiss is everything good, every gentle morning spent in her arms, every laugh she pulled from you, every moment you felt loved by a woman who would, in fact, kill hundreds to come home to you. The warmth of her lips, the smell of her perfume, the feeling of her strong body, enveloped in your own, fills your entire being. Your lungs burn for air, and with each breath you take, you breathe her in deeper, relishing in the nostalgia of her taste.

Valeria pulls away first. She cups your face in her hand, her thumbs brushing under your eyes, wiping away tears that threaten to spill. "You deserve more than me, amor. I'm sorry for being selfish."

And you believe her wholeheartedly. She's always been one to keep her word to the death, you know her soul, and how full of love it is despite her scarred exterior. You're not her prisoner, no, but a part of your heart sits with her still. Even if your dates had worked out, a small part of you knows that you would have only looked for Valeria in them.

"We can... figure it out," you try. "I don't want to worry about you all the time, not knowing if you're okay breaks my heart."

Valeria nods slowly, taking in your words. "I've been wanting to stay home more anyways. No point in a big house if I'm never home, hm?"

"Okay," you concede after a pause. "That's a good start."

"We could invite your date over," Valeria bites her tongue playfully, a mocking smile on her face. "I'm sure she'd love a night in the guest house. Maybe we can pick her up tomorrow and have dinner at mine—"

"Don't even joke about that,” you cut across, a laugh escaping through your lips before you can help it. “You're crazy."

"Mhm," Valeria brushes her thumb over your lips, mind elsewhere. "I know, amor."

You can hear the bass of the music inside the bar as people come and go, the cold air nipping against your skin as Valeria readies herself to speak again. You feel comfortable, despite the turmoil of the night- satiated, seen.

"Let me take you home," Valeria's eyes meet yours. "And show you exactly how sorry I am for scaring you away."

Yeah, you're home enough with her- you nod, smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time.

"It's a date."

#valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #cod x reader #valeria x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x reader

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jgracie · 1 day

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WHO’S GONNA KNOW YOU? (ME.)

↳ the chronicles of jj & smartiepants!

(american)footballer!jason grace x fem!reader

masterlist | rules

on the radio . . . the tortured poets department (taylor swift)

an SHES BACKKK!!!!! anw the song isn’t really their vibe i just got that line from there in case anyone was wondering!

you and jason have been through a lot together

from meeting in high school under the pouring rain, when he was the captain of jupiter high’s football team and you were just the new girl who transferred all the way from new york in an attempt to escape your past, to eventually dating, graduating high school and university and moving into your first apartment, it was safe to say neither one of you was going anywhere

which was why it was only natural for jason to propose to you eventually. if he could’ve had it his way, the two of you would’ve been married as soon as you threw your graduation caps up at the sky, but he he had to be patient. marriage was serious (jason knew this all too well, having seen how his own mother’s marriages turned out) and he wanted the two of you to be fully settled into your new lives outside of school before starting your journey as mr and mrs grace

so, he bided his time. he focused on his career, wanting to build the perfect life for the two of you in the future, getting into an nfl team right after university and beginning to write his own book only a year later. he also focused on your career, maybe a little more than his own - he couldn’t help it, his love for you transcended the heavens themselves and he couldn’t be prouder of you for growing into the woman you currently are

since he loved you so dearly, jason’s first ever book was obviously going to be written about you. more specifically, your story and how you brought life into jason’s existence the moment your destinies intertwined. said first ever book was also finally going to be published in a week, and with the two of you being at the height of all aspects of life, there was no better time for jason to pop the question

he made a special copy just for you, with a note written at the end, and asked you to read it, feigning uncertainty about his writing despite having gone over it with his editors several times. how could you say no to those sweet, baby blue eyes?

every time jason saw you reading his book, he felt his heart beat faster at the knowledge of what was at the very end of it. he’d already asked you to let him know when you got close to the end as according to him, there was a part he had to see your reaction to (not a complete lie, for jason could never lie to you). it only took you three days to reach the final chapter out of excitement for what jason could’ve written

“okay, i’m gonna read it now…” you said, a grin on your face as you reached for the book on your bedside table. jason sat to you on your bed, a velvet box with the ring of your dreams sitting prettily in the pocket of his sweatpants. he bit his lip, trying his hardest to calm his nerves down

this didn’t go unnoticed by you. looking up to see him in his state, your brows furrowed and you scooted closer to your soon to be fiancé, delicately cupping his head with your hand, “hey, i’m sure it’ll be really good, you’re a natural at writing, jase!” you gave him a soft smile and didn’t continue reading until he nodded and smiled back

the last chapter was short and nearly brought you to tears, but what really started the waterworks was the note written at the end

y/n, i have loved you from the moment i saw the smile on your face when i offered to walk you home under my umbrella. you may not know this, but i actually lived in the complete opposite direction to your home at the time, and i didn’t get home until the sun set that day. however, i couldn’t be happier. as i lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling of my room, i realized i’d walk to the ends of the earth if it meant i’d get to see your smile. no one has known me the way you do, and i don’t think anyone ever will, my very heart and soul belong to you and you alone. so, will you let me do the honours of becoming your husband and spending the rest of eternity going wherever you go?

PS. this isn’t actually getting published. it’s too intimate of a moment for me to do so, and i know we’d both hate it

PPS. if you don’t want to get married, i understand

your smile was wobbly as you looked at jason through tear-filled eyes. your sweet jason, who was currently tearing up himself as he presented the most gorgeous wedding ring to you

putting the book aside, you jumped into his arms and peppered his face with kisses, your tears mixing with his own as you did so. pulling away, you said, “of course i’ll marry you, jason! you’re an idiot for that last comment,” the two of you laughed then, and, finally having released your energy, you lay in bed with your head on jason’s chest and his arms wrapped around your waist

placing a kiss on the top of your head, jason grinned at you and said, “well, i’m your idiot now, aren’t i, smartiepants?”

“you’ve always been my idiot, silly,” you replied, a sigh of pure joy escaping your lips. despite the anticipation of the new journey you and jason were beginning together, the two of you found sleep immediately, dreaming of each other under the moonlit sky

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #pjo fanfic #jason grace drabble #jason grace blurb #cynwrites #˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ jj & smartiepants

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luffyvace · 2 days

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The Luffy Package ☠️📦

(General & relationship headcanons as well as Luffy quotes (relationship implied) for his big day!!)

had to go all out for my fav 😊🤭

General Luffy headcanons:

Luffy has nails so short dirt can’t get under it 😭

not necessarily the booty diggers 🤭

but just really short, like almost booty digger ig—but not it

he has like 1% nail

its not intentional, they just never grow

i have a feeling someone taught luffy how to dance

idk who

it was likely makino, shanks or some else he cares deeply about

but he learned early on and has been a great dancer ever since!

maybe at parties since they happen a lot in one piece ⭐️

But just because someone taught him doesn’t mean he was awful at dancing at first

maybe he was a natural!

feel the rhythm typa thing 🎶 🕺

it’d be funny if he was

cuz imagine a guy that can dance but can’t sing

how you gon dance on beat to a out of tune song?? 😭

at least to uta anyway

ive always loved Luffy’s singing‼️

he never thinks about what the one piece is

but would be the most disappointed if it isn’t something cool

this dude is NOT interested in books so if the one piece really is just joyboy’s tale i don’t think he’ll be satisfied..😭 (I’m talking about the theory)

he definitely wouldn’t say it was all for nothin tho

he still has nakama, treasure and is the pirate king!! 👑

but…the one piece as books is just a mega L for him

Robin will enjoy ♡

you know that thing he does where he stretches his face real big? Like the time he was tryna cheer nami up when she was sick? And it scared vivi and zoro?

he scared himself when he first realized he could do that too

he was bored and started messing around with his devil fruit

at first he was outside and he stretched his mouth, and when realized he could see inside it, he was like ‘I wonder what this looks like’

so he went inside and did it into a mirror

he somehow managed to trash the whole bathroom running away from his reflection

he quickly got over it and realized it was kinda funny

he showed Ace and sabo who also found it terrifying

then preceded to scare people with it ever since

d end! :)

I feel like he’s thought about what the ‘D’ in his name stands for too

He came up with a bunch of outrageous names that likely aren’t it..

”Dingus?”

”Donkey?”

”Demarto?”

”Doorbell?”

”Dinosaur?”

yeah, dinosaur seems the most plausible 😊

Luffy Dinosaur Monkey!

‘HEY THAT SOUNDS COOL 🤩’

yup, that’s probably what it stands for 😁

sneaks into the usopp factory whenever he’s not in there

he ends up playing with his creations and destroys, it, other projects, and the factory altogether in the progress

he then runs out laughing

usopp later returns to the ruins only to find his months work of his greatest creation yet named “ultimate captain usopp three thousand smasher” has been reduced to fragments of metal nothing ☺️

listen idk if oda has confirmed Luffy’s favorite color but I would say it’s none

why? The same reason why you can’t ask a toddler their’s, it’s just gonna constantly change and you know it’s not the truth

arguably, if I had to pick an actual color based off canon, (IK it’s a shade but wtv) it’d be white

why? wym? Don’t you remember that one ep where luffy sang a song about how he loves snow cuz it’s so white?

(one of his lesser talked about songs 😭💗)

Relationship Luffy headcanons:

Luffy as a partner is really rambunctious and loving

But do note that loving doesn’t always mean romantic

for him it means loving you a lot but not being lovey dovey when showing it

you need protecting? He’s on the case!! He can’t and he has to beat someone up? One of your nakama’ll do it so stay with them!

your strong? Perfect! He’s gonna go fight this guy so you go beat up that one!

why am I mentioning that? Because it shows he has a great sense of trust and faith in you

Of course he does with all his friends but your reasoning is different

not only are you his nakama, your also his partner!! Which means he loves you in a intimate way!! Not just platonically

I say “just” because I swear sometimes Luffy’ll feel like a friend with you (best friends and lover typa thing 💞) he’s just as goofy and chaotic with you as he is Usopp and chopper

he feels extra lively when around you and always wants to play, whether you like this or not. Your personality depends a lot on how your relationship with him is but I won’t dabble into that today because it’s his birthday. 🎉 but honestly it doesn’t matter if you punch him like nami or laugh like brook-

he’s still gonna bug you! 💖 seriously you can’t get rid of this dude 🤨 Luffy will drag you on every single one of his adventures so I hope your either brave or fearless like him. The only time you two separate and he allows it is when he’s fighting the boss type thing LOL. Like Doflamingo or smth.

that said Luffy isn’t clingy he just likes being around you and seeing what your doing. Especially when you haven’t landed on an island yet and he’s bored. He’s always singing, playing with your face (ironic cuz he’s the stretchy one) or trying to get you to play some silly game he made up

that usually somehow manages to tick everyone off. 🤷‍♀️

will grab your hands randomly and make you dance to some song he made up about literally anything he sees or feels

he even made one about YOU once :3

”OOOOOHHH your my partner! Yes my partner! We’re having lots of fun! Going on adventures- YAHOO!! And dancing a ton! We’ll dance all arcross the grand line!! Take your hats off and let them fly!! YIPPIE!! We’re having a graaaaand TIIIIIIIME!” 😁🕺

Luffy quotes: (implied relationship between you two)

”HEY LOOK DO YOU SEE THAT ISLAND!! Cmoncmoncmoncmoncmoncmon!! HURRY UP I WANNA GO EXPLORING!!”

”can you sneak in the kitchen and steal some food from sanji? I’m really hungry and he won’t let me in anymore!!”

”LETS HAVE A PARTY!!!” — “we don’t need a reason! CMON!’ CHEERS!”

”lets tame that thing and make it our pet!!”

”what should we name em?” — “Junpi? SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!!” (You didn’t get a chance to respond 💕)

”HEY LOOK A RESTAURANT!! Grab on I’ll rocket us there!! HURRY UP IM HUNGRYYY!!”

”hey! Do you have any food on you?? I’m hungry!”

”Liar!! I can smell it!!”

”take a bath?! I don’t stink!!— EUGH!- okay yeah maybe….but I don’t wanna take a bath!! I’ll get all tired!”

”I’ll leave you with that guy! So go kick some butt! I’ll deal with that red forehead guy!!” (AN: There’s no actual red forehead guy that’s canon, I made it up 👍)

”⁉️ HEY WHAT HAPPENED?! Did that guy beat you up?! I’ll send him flying!! 💢”

”Shishishishi! Shh! Watch this! I’m gonna drop this on Usopp’s head! 🤭😂”

”Lets play a gaaaaame!! I’m so bored! 😞”

”can I have some of your food?” *Already stuffing a piece in his mouth* (the point is it’s not the whole thing ⁉️😱)

”HE LOOK MY BOUNTY WENT UP!! 🤩🤩‼️“

”Isn’t this fun?! 😆” (having a near death experience)

”don’t worry! My injuries don’t hurt at all! See? I’m dancing! I’m having fun!”

”oops. Sorry.”

”look!” (Two chop sticks stuffed up his nose and mouth)

”WOAHH A MAN KILLING BEAR!! LETS GO CHECK IT OUT! 🤩” (even if you wanted to say no your already being hoisted over there because you weren’t running fast enough for him)

”plan? Never mind that!! Let’s go! We’re gonna kick that butt head guys’ butt!!” (AN: another fictional villain I made up on a whim)

”HOLD ON TIGHT” (Gum Gum Rockets with hardly any warning)

”let’s play a game!! It’s called steal zoro’s swords without waking up zoro!! 😁”

”nyop!” (Puts you atop his shoulders 💓)

”nyop!” (Jumps on your back almost knocking you over 💝)

”look at my disguise! Nobody will suspect us! 😎👍”

”Cmere!” (Pulls you into his lap)

”HI! Is it almost time for dinner yet?” (Plops down in your lap)

Thanks for supporting me and my work—as well as my random disappearances too 💗🤗

Everyone! Say it!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUFFY‼️‼️

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smilingbuckley · 1 day

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

who am I kidding. This is no tidbit. Right now I'm working full time on the fake dating fic - hopefully until I finish writing it. I think I only have one chapter left after this one. Though this chapter is getting loooongg. Anyways, enjoy!

“There are Mexican wedding traditions?” Buck asks him, surprised. He never really looked into that. He should.

“Well, you’ve got los padros y los madros, who are basically like godparents and sponsor the wedding. The well known mariachis, that perform religious songs. A lot of weddings take place during a mass. You’ve got wedding coins, el lazo… lots of things, really.”

Buck blinks a few times, “Did you di all that?”

Eddie laughs, “God, no. Shannon and I had a small and quick ceremony – Shannon’s family wasn’t religious. Or Mexican.”

Buck hums, “But… if you ever got married again, would you… want that?”

Eddie thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs, “I don’t know. I’ve never really felt as in touch with that part of me as others did, you know? And most traditions are religious, which I… don’t know if I am. I’m still questioning that. But… I don’t know. Maybe some? Or like, just hints of them? Obviously I would include the food. And some music, look at those people swinging. Wouldn’t mind showing some salsa moves either,” Eddie laughs. “I don’t know. I’d probably just want the classic traditions, not really anything religious. Just close friends and family, not so big as this. And outside at a beautiful place. We’ve been to too many calls where floors collapsed.”

“True,” Buck nods. Someone offers them champagne and he takes it.

“What about you?” Eddie asks him.

“Well, I’m not Mexican, so I doubt it would be appropriate,” Buck answers.

Eddie snorts, covering his mouth and nose with his hand. He shakes his head as he laughs, “No, smartass. What kind of wedding would you want?”

“Oh. Right. That makes more sense,” Buck answers, his cheeks blushing again. “Uh, I don’t know. I guess if I just have the people I love with me, anything would be great. But I agree on the outside part… maybe in a garden with a lot of flowers… though I don’t know if that’s such a great idea for people with allergies. Could be a beach. In the spring, so people aren’t too miserable from the heat yet. And when flowers are blooming and still brightly colored. I’d maybe want some clichés, Maddie walking me down, Jee as a flower girl. Bobby my best man.”

“Bobby? Not me?” Eddie asks.

Buck had just taken a sip of champagne and starts coughing.

Hell no would Eddie be his best man! He’d be his groom. But he can’t say that right now.

Taglist:

@buddieswhvre @diazsdimples @tizniz @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck

@theotherbuckley @jesuiscenseedormir @loveyouanyway @chaosandwolves @mattsire

@mel-vaz @inkmortal-trash389 @princess-of-the-snake-pit @nilletellsstories @laundryandtaxesworld

@specialbrownieeater @m1kayu @trustme-imnormal @darkrose6578 @mage8

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

#911 #evan buckley #buddie #911 fanfic #eddie diaz #fanfiction #buddie fanfiction #writing #911 abc #911 on abc #snippet

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sirdindjarin · 2 days

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A Ghoul and a Vault-Dweller Walk Into a Bar

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x Lucy MacLean.

TAGS: Fluff, pining, introspection lol.

WARNINGS: Swearing, alcohol consumption.

Based off of this post ! I loved the idea and couldn't get it out of my head.

AO3 link 🤠

A few days after the events of the last episode, the Ghoul and Lucy take solace in a quiet saloon, only to find their dynamic is changing.

“Ain’t this a peach,” the Ghoul muttered, taking in the New Vegas saloon. It was a postwar attempt to recreate what no one still walking had ever experienced, but it was faithful enough to send the Ghoul back to the set of a movie some two centuries earlier. He could smell the burn of the stage lights, hear the staccato of studio executives arguing, and see PAs stumbling over cables in the background.

His bittersweet reverie ended when - what else - the Vault Dweller opened her mouth. Again.

Bouncing on her tiptoes, her wide smile was interrupted only by her exclamation, “Wow! This place is right out of a history book. Oh, gosh, look at that!”

Hanging from the ceiling was a myriad of materials in various stages of rust and decay. Grimy, glaring patrons grumbled as Lucy rushed past their tables to examine some memorabilia plastered to the wall. She gingerly ran her gray forefinger over the rusted farm equipment. “See these? They used to pull these behind a tractor, or a horse, and it made furrows in the ground. That made it a lot easier for them to plant things like corn, tobacco, wheat -”

The Ghoul ignored her lesson. Let the history buff have her boring version of fun, it’d give him some peace. After the past three days, he needed it. He strode toward the far end of the bar, spurs clinking.

Lucy had been silent after the revelation with her father. Downright catatonic, almost. The following morning, still in sight of the Hollywood sign, and out of the daggum goodness of his heart (truly, he’d been a saint to even think about it) he’d offered her a hit of an upper, but she’d curled her lip in disgust. No skin off his nose, he’d thought humorously, he would just let her stew.

Before the sun had set that next day, however, the girl abruptly flipped from traumatized silence to her usual non-stop chatter. He hadn't asked what changed. The Ghoul assumed she'd come to terms with her father being an evil sonofabitch. He expected her trauma would rear its ugly head at some point, but that was a future problem. Once she started talking again, he had again been a saint - he’d only thought about shooting her once. And that only because she had asked him a stupid question.

You mentioned finding your family. You have kids?

Sidling up to the bar top, his ragged coat slapping gently against the stool, the Ghoul’s attention was drawn to a jukebox against the wall to his right. Colorful lights flashed, dimmed by a layer of dust; but the old machine advertised it was ready to sing. He glanced curiously at some of the songs, felt a flicker of some emotion he wouldn’t put name to, and turned away. He drummed his gloved fingers on the wooden counter, impatient to have something to smother the spark of sadness. Here, the weight of the past was literally hanging over his head.

The Ghoul had directed his focus on the other end of the bar, where the barkeep seemed to be pointedly ignoring him, when a dull scraping sound alerted him to someone sitting beside him - between him and the mocking jukebox.

“Hi! Barkeep?” Lucy beamed and motioned between herself and the Ghoul, “Could we get a drink, please?”

The gruff man looked more like a patron than a bartender, all heavy gait and uninterested stare, but he raised his eyebrows at Lucy. The Ghoul laughed under his breath.

“What?” She asked in a whisper. Grimacing, she worried, “Oh… is that not how you’re supposed to do it?”

“There’s a laundry list of things you shouldn’t be doin’, Vaultie, but flaggin’ down the bartender ain’t one of ‘em.”

Lucy straightened her posture. “You know, we have established a mutual goal and I would appreciate mutual respect. I don’t think being laughed at is-”

“Sweetheart, I ain’t laughin’ at you; quit bein’ so sensitive,” the Ghoul stated flatly. “Don’t we make quite the damned pair? A Ghoul and a Vault Dweller walk into a bar…” he trailed off with another chuckle.

Lucy relaxed her shoulders, still feeling awkward. “Oh, haha.”

“All we got is distilled water and tequila. Which’un you want?” The bartender interrupted, though he spoke only to Lucy.

“Uh, I would like to try the tequila. I still have some water leftover and it’ll be fun to try something new.”

The bartender sucked on his teeth, turned, and left - resenting serving a peppy Vault Dweller and outright refusing to serve the arrogant ghoul seated beside her as though it was a person.

“They don’t much like my kind here, darlin’,” the Ghoul grinned lopsidedly. He tapped his holster with his new forefinger. “I’ll have to get my drink a different way.”

Eyes wide, Lucy nearly stood on the rung of the stool as she shouted to the bartender: “Make that two glasses of tequila, please.”

The barkeep went still for a brief moment before deciding it wasn’t worth it. He’d seen some weird shit, but if this wasn’t the strangest duo he’d ever served, he’d eat a radroach. He sent the shots sliding down the well-worn wood counter with surprising skill, and they stopped directly in front of Lucy. She nudged one of the grimy glasses toward the Ghoul, who grunted.

In those old movies, the characters often clinked their glasses together. Excited to perform a toast in a real saloon, Lucy raised her glass toward the Ghoul. Her eyes sparkled so earnestly that the Ghoul briefly considered indulging her. Instead, he tipped the shot glass into his parched mouth, eyes closing in satisfaction.

“Ah,” he hummed. This was nothing like the chems he used to stay sane, and tequila wasn’t his favorite, but damn if it didn’t feel like the alcohol stripped off some of the layers of the past week's shit.

Upon opening his eyes, he was surprised by the mix of amusement and regret in his chest at the way the girl’s face had fallen. It was childishly funny the way he could disappoint her so easily - as though they kept the same standards of behavior - but the pleasure of her disappointment only took the Ghoul so far.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he goaded, his voice deep and persuasive. “It ain’t top-shelf but it ain’t lizard-piss, either.”

“I don’t know what either of those mean,” Lucy mumbled as she brought the glass to her lips; she winced as fumes burned her nostrils. Abandoning caution, she threw the clear liquid into her mouth and swallowed as the Ghoul had. The liquid stung as it slid down her throat; her mouth puckered. Fighting the urge to cough, she cleared her throat instead. Lucy refused to let the Ghoul have anything more to bully her about.

Lucy blinked away the wetness in her eyes. The Ghoul was watching her. Lucy couldn’t discern the look in his eye, but it wasn’t one she’d seen before. The Ghoul had made certain of that.

“That was, um, so good,” she grimaced. But the warmth in her chest and stomach was pleasant. “You want another?”

The Ghoul chuckled, “If you’re buyin’.”

***

“No, I only meant it as a compliment,” Lucy slurred, blushing furiously. She was only four shots in, but the Ghoul was starting to get concerned that she would throw up on him. Lucy wobbled on her stool. “Really, they’re nice eyes. No, ‘m okey dokey. Wow, this stuff is strong.” She held her hand out in front of her and wiggled her fingers, fascinated by the way her vision seemed to be a half-second beyond reality.

“Must be. You,” he pointed in her face, “can’t handle your liquor.”

"Hey, it’s my first try," she steadied herself.

“It’s gon’ be your last if you paint my boots. You look a little green, Vaultie.”

Her big brown eyes refocused on the Ghoul. “Okay, well, distract me. I know you won’t tell me anything about yourself.”

He tensed.

“And that’s okay. But I don't even know your name." Lucy threw him a frown, "What if I have to call for you - what am I supposed to say?”

The Ghoul chewed at the inside of his cheek, tearing away some skin as he considered. He’d had twelve shots. She wasn’t asking anything too revealing; and she had saved his life. And maybe all her “Do Unto Others” bullshit wasn’t bullshit, but he still wasn’t about to crack open like a can of biscuits. The Ghoul gazed down into her doe eyes, then he and the tequila made a decision.

“Cooper,” he answered after safely looking away, his voice rough over the word.

Something scratched at the back of Lucy’s brain. Tipsy as she was, she knew this was important - she did not want to ruin whatever progress they seemed to have made. She nodded and replied politely, “That’s a good name. Cooper.”

Lucy watched the rainbow of lights as they reflected off the shiny bar. She slid off the stool and leaned over the jukebox, flipping idly through the songs.

Cooper held his thirteenth shot in his gloved hand as he stared ahead at the blank wall of the now-empty saloon. After they had collectively purchased nearly twenty shots, the bartender had lost all sense of distaste for either of them; he now sat in a chair, dozing, waiting for the Ghoul and the Vault Dweller to ask him for more.

A gasp came from Cooper’s right. His stool groaned as he turned, and he saw Lucy grinning up at him.

“Look at this song: I Walk the Line. It’s from one of my favorite movies -”

Cooper's stomach lurched.

“A Man and His Dog.” Lucy selected the song. “And the main character’s real name was Cooper. Used to watch those old Westerns with - with my dad all the time. The best ones are the ones with him. With Cooper Howard, I mean. He was always the good guy. He never hurt anyone. Well, unless he absolutely had to, of course.” She began to wax poetic about ethics, and her audience of one tuned out. The gruff croon of Johnny Cash filled the otherwise silent building.

Cooper Howard debated whether or not he should tell her the truth. He didn’t know how much she knew about his life as an actor - some of her questions about his family could be answered if she knew about his widely-publicized, definitely-public-record divorce - but seeing her face when she learned that her favorite cowboy movie star was the radiation-ravaged monster sitting beside her would be hilarious.

I keep my eyes wide open all the time

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds

Well, would it be hilarious? Cooper wasn’t so certain anymore. Lucy’s disappointment in him was rapidly losing its luster. Her cowboy had fallen a height that would’ve killed anyone else - had killed almost everyone else. The good man she idolized was dead. He wouldn’t resurrect him just to kill him again in front of Lucy.

For the second time that afternoon, she pulled him abruptly from a reverie.

“I wonder what it was like. Everyone in these saloons… with a jukebox playing while you dance with a handsome stranger,” Lucy gazed out at the empty room. “It must’ve been incredible.”

Cooper didn’t correct her about jukeboxes and saloons. Instead, he took his thirteenth shot, allowing it to burn away what was left of his judgment.

“Well, come on down, darlin’.” He held out his hand - the one that was one-fifth her.

Dubious, distrustful despite their fledgling partnership, Lucy’s eyes darted between his outstretched hand and his dark eyes. This man had cut off her finger less than a week before. He’d tried to sell her.

But this wasn't a desperate game of cat and mouse, and he no longer believed she was a lying murderer. (That conversation had been a hoot. One of the few times he’d asked her a question, Cooper had wondered what possessed her to cut off Wilzig’s fuckin’ head, and, after she told him Wilzig had left her no choice, she tearfully described the sound of his spine severing and nearly vomited. The Ghoul had laughed.) She was here of her own choice. Lucy chose to follow the Ghoul - Cooper - into the Wilds and the Wasteland. She trusted him now, and he her.

“It’s alright, Vaultie. Y’know I won’t bite,” he drawled with a smirk. “Of the two’ve us, which one has bitten the other?”

“Wh-?” Lucy started to ask, then decided better of it. Cooper had given her his name and his trust. He had been as kind as summer by Wasteland standards, and she would be damned if her manners were the poor ones. She took his hand.

As sure as night is dark and day is light

I keep you on my mind both day and night

The room was spinning, and Lucy wasn’t sure if the blame should be placed on the tequila or the Ghoul who held her so gently. This was a far cry from the lasso he’d thrown around her last week. She opened her mouth, fully intent on telling him See, the Golden Rule is golden for a reason. But when his hand slid slowly from the curve of her waist to the small of her back, she found that the words were missing.

He guided them in a small, slow circle. Cooper’s chest was pressed up against her own, and it was though his centuries-deep layers of leather and cotton, and her pristine, thick Vault-Tec suit were non-existent. The vulnerability set his teeth on edge, but it relaxed Lucy. She let the music, the alcohol, and the Ghoul take her. Uncharacteristically shy, and somewhat nauseous, she laid her head on his shoulder.

Cooper hummed along with Johnny Cash, letting himself feel a modicum of peace in this improbable, inexplicable bubble. He could feel Lucy’s heart beating rapidly beneath her garish suit. His own heart felt like the tattoo of a horse’s hooves. Cooper’s jaw tensed as he wondered how she’d feel to know that. He found himself hoping.

Hope and contentment were as foreign to him as a nose and hair, now. Yet he felt the gnaw of yearning. Lucy was a reflection and a time machine. Maybe that cowboy - the one who deserved both hope and contentment - could live again.

And happiness I've known proves that it's right

Because you're mine, I walk the line.

#OTP: “Just like that.”#myfics #my fics #my writing #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic #the ghoul fanfic #walton goggins #lucy maclean #ella purnell #fluff #cooper howard fanfic #ghoulcy #ghoulcy fanfic #the ghoul x lucy maclean #cooper howard x lucy maclean

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eddaawrites · 1 day

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Stay over?

Tara yummy

Summary- You and Tara have a sleepover and things escalate quickly

Warnings - Smut, cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!tara.

Inspired by this request

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Getting into my car I back out of my driveway to go pick Tara up for our sleepover. It’d been a while since we’d hung out and I missed her so much. If I was being honest, I’ve had feelings for her for quite a while. And for good reason.

She’s one of the sweetest people I know, always putting others before herself. And the way she carries herself, like she’s the only person in the world. And don’t get me started on her looks, the woman is unconditionally and breathtakingly stunning.

The way her eyes shine in the light. Dark as the night sky, stars dancing on their surface.

The way her hair falls from her shoulders, so perfectly.

She’s everything I ever dreamed of and more.

So when I walk into her apartment after unlocking the door with my spare key, and see her dancing on the middle of the floor, swaying her hips to music playing on her tv while she packs her overnight bag. I fall into a trance. Time slows down and all that exists is her. Only her.

I zone out so hard that I don’t even register her walking towards me until I feel her arms around me, her fingers interlinking behind my neck.

It takes me a while to get my heart beating again, but when it does I wrap them around her waist, pulling her closer.

“Hey, angel” I say, pulling back to look at those eyes.

“Hi” she responds, and my knees almost buckle. Her voice in music to my ears.

“You ready to go?” I ask her, and she nods her head excitedly.

“Yeah, let’s go” she says as she grabs her bag and her keys and exits out the door.

Once we’re in the car I hand her the aux cord and she queues a couple songs. “McDonalds?” I ask although I already know the answer. “Duh” she replies.

A couple of minutes pass and I pull into the McDonald’s drive through. I don’t bother asking her what she wants since we go here so often that I’ve memorised her order.

When I’ve placed the order and driven to the next window I look over to her and see that she’s already looking at me. There’s something in her eyes, the way she’s looking at me, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it means.

“Are you okay?” “ I’m great” she replies. “Well I know that” I chuckle and she laughs.

God I love that sound.

“Thank you” she grins. I hadn’t realised I said it out loud. I feel my face start to heat up. She looks at me the way she did just a minute ago, what does it mean? A strand of hair fall onto her forehead and I feel myself reach for it, tucking it behind her ear, and letting my hand linger a bit longer than needed. And her cheeks glow a deep scarlet.

She’s so beautiful. Even when she’s not trying to be. She has me captivated by her beauty by merely existing. It’s astonishing.

She nuzzles her face into my hand and I gently stroke her cheek with my thumb.

The drive through window opens and a woman holding a paper bag speaks but her words don’t register. “Sorry?” I speak. “Here’s your order, have a nice evening.” “Right, you too” I take the bag out of her hands, roll the window up and drive.

The car ride to my place is weirdly silent, except for the music. She’s never this quiet. But I don’t get a chance to ask her why as I pull into the parking lot of my house and she practically runs in through the front door. I’m surprised there isn’t a cartoony Tara shaped hole in my door.

I follow after her with the paper bag. She’s already sitting on my couch, remote control in hand going through Disney+ looking for a movie to watch. Finally deciding on Lady and the Tramp.

I throw myself onto the couch placing the food between us and grabbing a blanket from the basket beside the couch and throwing it over both of our legs. We eat and watch the movie in silence, for the most part since Tara talks over the movie almost the whole time.

When the movie is finished she’s asleep with her hair in her face, so I brush it behind her ear and give her a light kiss on her forehead.

“You missed my lips by a long shot” she whispers. I chuckle “how very rude of me” “absolutely unacceptable” she looks up at me. “Well what do you suppose we do about that” she pauses for a second “I guess you’ll just have to give me two kisses to make up for it”. I smirk “Oh, yeah?” “Mhmm” she says as she leans in, her eyes darting to my lips. “Well if that’s the only way you’ll forgive me”.

Our lips meet in a slow and gentle manner. My hand glides up to her cheek, the other settling on her waist. She throws hers around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair and I groan as she gives it a soft tug, my hand tightening around her waist.

I glide my tongue over her bottom lip beckoning her to open her lips, she does. It’s messy, the kiss filled with lust and passion as I pull her to sit on my lap.

I let my hands travel her body starting at her waist, down to her hips, to her ass giving it a quick squeeze, and up again to her upper back and then letting them fall to rest on her hips, guiding her to grind on my thigh. She does so and moans at the friction, the sound making my lower stomach warm and I moan into her mouth.

Her hands fall to the hem of my shirt tugging on it and I raise my arms as she pulls it over my head and throws it to the side and I do the same for her, taking her appearance in and looking up at her, pulling her into another kiss, this one gentle and caring. “So beautiful” I whisper against her lips.

My lips trail from the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, her neck and finally the edge of her bra. I look up at her and she nods. So i take her bra off, my mouth watering at the sight and I bring her left tit into my mouth grabbing the other one with my hand. She arches her back into me and throws her head back.

When I twist the peak between my index finger and thumb and gently nibble on the other one she lets out the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck” she moans. She brings her hands to my belt buckle and looks down at me “please”. “Well since you asked so nicely”

I turn us over so she’s under me and kiss down her stomach. When I reach her pants I look up at her “are you sure?” To which she immediately responds to by nodding. “I need words, baby”. ”Yes, please. I need you”. “Atta girl” she responds by lifting her hips up for me to pull her pants down.

Once I’ve thrown them onto the ground with the rest of the clothes I lower myself so that I’m at eye level with her black lace thong. I wrap my arms around the backs of her thighs, pull her closer and kiss up the inside of her thighs slowly getting closer to where I want to be. I deliver a soft kiss to the wet spot on her panties and pull them down moaning at the sight.

“Jesus you’re soaked, is this all for me?” I breathe out. “All f’you” she moans. I slide a finger between her folds collecting her wetness, popping the finger into my mouth and rolling my eyes to the back of my head moaning at the taste. “God you taste so good, baby. You gonna let me have some more?” I ask. “Mhmm, can have as much as you want” she breathes out and I dive into her pussy, devouring her. Not letting a drop go to waste.

I suck her clit into my mouth, circling my tongue around it. Her back arches off the couch as she lets out a pornographic moan. “Fuck keep doing that”. She grinds her pussy on my face and I moan, the vibrations setting her own moans off.

I flip us over again so she’s sitting on my face and she instantly starts grinding down on my mouth. I slip my tongue into her pussy, and she grinds her clit on my nose. Her hands find my hair as her legs start shaking, her eyes rolling back and her head doing the same as she cums. Hard.

Once her moans die down I pull her off of me and place her down getting up and going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.

When I get back she’s half asleep so I try to be gentle so as to not wake her up. But when I accidentally touch her sensitive clit she hisses and clamps her legs shut. “Shh, I need to clean you up, baby”. She opens her legs again and lets me finish.

Once I’m done I grab us both some oversized T-shirts from my closet and put mine on, taking my pants off in the process and putting the second one on her. Then I lay down on the couch next to her pulling her back to my chest.

“Goodnight, Tara” I whisper in her ear before placing a kiss on the top of her head “Goodnight”

———————————————————————

A/n: Sorry this took so long I’ve been kinda out of it lately. And please be nice since this is the first time I’ve written smut. Love you guys!! ❤️

#Tara yummy #tara yummy fluff #tara yummy smut #tara yummy fanfic #tara yummy is a mindset #Tara yummy x f!reader #tara yummy x reader #Tara yummy headcannons #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff

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seobsroot · 13 hours

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GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THOSE BOOKS

summary: lee heeseung loves to annoy you while you do your work, it all goes south when you have to tutor him

contains: nerd x secretly smart guy who acts stupid just to get close to them, gn reader

you opened your textbook and got out your notebook and got ready to start to answer the questions. you heard the chair beside you move back and you already knew who it was. “y/nnnn heyyyy.” he said in a sing-song voice and you rolled your eyes. “hey heeseung.” you spat and he frowned.

“don’t be like that y/n. what are you working on?” he peered at you and you looked up from the limitless amount of words on the page. “the book questions. what you also should be working on.”

you’re probably wondering why you’re being so mean to him, it’s only because he doesn’t know how to leave you alone. unlike some people, you cared about your grades and getting your work done. “oh really? when is it due?” he asked and you huffed. “in 3 days.” he nodded and looked at your page. “how much do you have left?” you held up 3 fingers to indicate 3 more questions.

“wait how many did we have to do?” is his serious. this was assigned last week and he’s had all the time in the world. “20.” you replied and he nodded. you knew he was about to say something else and you shook your head, “no more questions.” he frowned and pulled out his phone when the teacher came up to him.

“heeseung. you’re failing this class.” he acted shocked, but he knew this was gonna happen. ever since he started noticing you, he stopped doing his work. he knew you were the top student in the class and he knew if he could fail at one point, he could finesse a tutoring session. “y/n. i hate to do this to you with your busy schedule, but do you think you could tutor him?” you sighed and nodded.

heeseung was jumping with joy on the inside at your agreement. you set up for the session to be thursday at 3:30. he was ecstatic waiting for the day. when the day rolled around he swore he raced in his car to your house. he had to act all nonchalant when he walked up to your door. he took a deep breath and knocked. “one second!” you shouted and soon showed up.

when you opened the door and he was shocked at what he saw. he was so used to seeing you all dressed up everyday at school, no wrinkles in your clothes. to see you in an oversized tee shirt and some basketball shorts. he still thought you looked beautiful and he walked inside.

“do you want any water or something?” he trailed behind you and said a quiet no. you ended up in your dining room. he looked around to see baby pictures, family pictures, and other things. he smiled at you in one of the pictures of you on the beach under the sand. “hey. let’s get out your stuff yeah?” you snapped him out of his thoughts and he nodded.

he pulled out his science book and go to work. he secretly already knew how to do this, but having you teach him how to do it made it all the better. halfway through, he honestly just stopped listening to you. he started staring at you and you stopped talking. “are you listening to me?” you tapped him and he shook his head.

“what’s the point of being here if you’re not gonna listen?” you shook your head in disappointment and he lightly touched your face. “can i kiss you?” he asked and you stared at him and slowly nodded. he was crashing his lips against yours. his lips were so soft and delicate. you deepened it more by putting both of your hands on his cheeks. his cheeks started to flush and you felt them.

you let off of him and he was still blushing. “that was nice” he said breathless. “you never needed help in the first place did you?” he shook his head no. “i actually know how to do all this stuff already. i just wanted to get you to notice me.” he admitted and you laughed. you leaned in to kiss him again. “well lee heeseung, you could of just said that.”

this might be my longest thing i’ve wrote

#fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #imagines #scenarios #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung #heesung enhypen #lee heesung x reader

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 2 days

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Hi maggots... I have to go out for an entrance exam in a half hour but here I am, stealing a while to talk to you all. I don't know, why are we always making time for the things that are important and using time for the things we have to do but always stealing time for what we want to do? What is wasting time, anyway? I don't know. I don't know much at all.

I made the mistake of playing a new song while typing this first bit. It's Birch, by Big Red Machine and Taylor Swift. Do new songs ever make you feel a bit nervous but excited, like you're experiencing some emotion for the first time and reading a book or watching a movie and you don't quite know how it will end and where it will take you on the way? It's not the kind of thing you do lightly. Well, I mean, it's not the kind of thing I can do lightly. I'll have to listen to it again, while I'm not here writing.

This counts, doesn't it, as writing? Why do I have to be writing my book or a poem or a song for it to be real writing? I'm putting words together and I'm putting them together for us, for you and me. God we make ourselves feel guilty with so many arbitrary definitions.

A familiar song is playing now, The Alcott by The National and Taylor Swift. I think their voices meld together beautiful, gritty and smooth. I think Swift is a skilled singer-songwriter, as well as a performer. I think a lot of things.

Why am I writing an entrance exam? Well, writing is an exaggeration, it'll involve sketching and maybe an interview. It's for an art school. The design school I got into, which I told you all about and was thinking of not doing, well, that got messy. They were... not very polite about a scholarship that they'd said they'd give. And I can't risk going to a situation like my last college. I don't wanna sully this post with it (how do I use words like wanna and sully next to each other, I really cannot pick a way to use this language) but well. It wasn't fun. I don't want to be an unfriendly/unsafe environment if I can help it.

Am I excited or nervous for the exam? Not really. Too many things have happened to leave any room for that. It's mainly resignation, a sort of oh, is this what's happening now? ok. That's sad. But I still care about things, I promise. Not the things I used to, like academics or grades or some abstract future. I care about you. I care about you so much. I think about you all the time. I care about my mum and my dog. About stickers and Good Omens and Sherlock Holmes and music and books.

It's a different kind of caring.

I have ten minutes left. I need to shower and pack my things in that time. I'm cutting it fine. Like a slice of whale. Some of you are confused by that. A lot of you are thinking Asmi, no, no, no. That makes me smirk. A fine slice of whalegina, loves.

I'll tell you all about it one day (hush, those of you still desperately thinking Asmi, no with a mixture of horror and fascination).

It's the sixth of May here. 2024, for those of you who've lost track of years. A Monday. Tomorrow is my twentieth birthday. So many things are happening in my life, not all of them good, but what's always good is you. It's us.

We're good. We're always good. I love you. So much.

I promise, maggots. We're more than friends, we're family. And to whoever it is reading this, maggot, even if we've never spoken, I care about you. Because you took the time to read this. You took the time to care. I care, too. I care about you.

I'll go shower now, in a bit of a rush, but smiling. Because of you. Because of all of you.

Love, Asmi

#unravelling rambles

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blorbo-gerrymandering · 2 days

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Round 3

Ok so due to the unexpected immense power of the blaseball fandom Ive had to bring out the advanced cheating. So I'm busting out the treasure hunt. Yes I know I said I would use it but that was before I learned that the skills used in Blaseball are the EXACT SAME that are used here.

So here is how it works ALL VOTES ON THE POLL ABOVE COUNT AS VOTES FOR AZULA! There is a separate poll elsewhere, and all votes on that count as votes for Jaylen. When the polls finish whichever poll has more total votes wins.

All clues except this one (and the poll itself obviously) will be found as replies to other posts. All replies will be from this blog.

Your first clue will be given to you by the Prince of Silfos, from his winner's podium.

Propaganda Under The Cut

Jaylen Hotdogfingers:

The greatest came-back-wrong character ever. She's the mayor of Seattle. She's was the best pitcher in the league. She was murdered by an umpire in an act of divine retribution for the fanbase's transgression. The fanbase exploited game mechanics to bring her back to life. Immediately she murdered 12 people. She died again and got revived a second time as part of a team of undead players that killed god. She's a really awful batter. She has, like, 16 songs written about her and they're all really good. I thought about her every single day for a period of six consecutive months. I love her.

I'll be real. I'm an outsider to the Blaseball fandom. I don't understand it. I think they've crowdfunded characters from fictionalized fucked-up Baseball stats and a dream. I love seeing what the fuck they're doing in their eldritch sandbox just so much.

Azula:

Shes a 14 year old girl who literally had a mental breakdown on screen that no one helped and personally I consider all of her family members abusive towards her

she's got issues <3

#poll #round 3 #jaylen hotdogfingers #blaseball #princess azula #avatar the last airbender #atla #azula

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arrow-luv · 2 days

Text

Morning, Sweetheart

Pairings: GN!reader x Retired!Simon

Warnings: None really. Just fluff, but maybe a lil kissing, age gap (not explicitly said)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Simon stirred awake, groaning softly as he rubbed his eyes. He sat up, glancing over to your side of the bed, only to find it empty. His brows furrowed, but he heard the familiar sound of sizzling of bacon, or some sort of food, on the pan from the kitchen ever so faintly, and the music you always listened to, he knew where you were. He sighed softly in relief, his shoulders loosening.

He swung his legs over the bed, standing up and stretching out, his joints popping slightly (old man). He grabbed a worn pair of pyjama pants, slipping them on before he left to go downstairs, not even bothering about his mask.

When he saw your figure, standing in front of the stove and humming softly to the song, his gaze softened slightly. Simon still didn’t understand how you were so nice to him, showing him the love he needed. He was older than you, not by much, he was cold, distant, and hated people in general. But despite himself, he loved you unconditionally.

He came up behind you, now just noticing you were wearing one of his shirts over your sleep shorts, and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “G’mornin’, sweetheart.” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep, and he noticed the way a shiver ran down your spine. He chuckled at the thought of just his voice sending shivers through your body.

“Morning, Simon.” you chirped back, your soft smile melting his heart. You turned your head, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, and Simon savoured the moment, sighing softly.

“I love you, y’know tha’, righ’?” he spoke against your lips before you pulled back, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You snickered softly at his words.

“Yeah, I know. And I love you too, Si.” you replied, pulling out of his arms. “Could you do me a favour and watch the food? I don’t want it burning.” you said, going over to the cupboard to pull out a mug.

Simon watched you with a hint of confusion, but he brushed it off, shrugging slightly. He made sure to keep an eye on the food, but his focus was mainly on you.

He watched as you moved about the kitchen, starting to make him a tea. He chuckled softly when he realized what you were doing. “Luv, I can make my own tea, yeah?” he said, but you shot him a glare. He instantly backed off, putting his hands up in mock defeat. “Righ’, okay. I’ll letcha make my tea f’me.” he said, still chuckling.

It only took a minute or two, not even until you came back over, handing him his tea. “I didn’t put too much sugar in it. I hope it’s good.” you said, remembering the other day when you tried making him a tea and accidentally put too much sugar.

Simon just laughed it off, wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “It’ll be perfect, honey. Don’ worry abou’ it.” he murmured, taking a sip of his tea. It was better, but still just a bit too much sugar for his liking, but he didn’t complain. He loved it when you made him things (he still wears the bracelet you made him when you first met ~7 years ago).

Just before you both could get too comfy, your attention was snapped back to the stove when you saw the food was on fire. You gasped, while Simon stood and tried not to laugh as you flocked about the kitchen, trying to put it out. He set down his cup and pulled you aside.

He turned off the stove, grabbing the pan and putting it in the sink, the now-on-fire bacon still inside. He turned on the sink, letting the water set out the fire, turning around to look at you. “All be’ter?” he snickered, watching the relief flood your face with amusement.

“Sorry, I wanted to make us breakfast!” you exclaimed, and it only spiked Simon’s amusement.

“Calm down, luvie. It’s al’ight.” he cooed, sitting down on the chair in the kitchen and pulled you onto his lap, tucking his face in the crook of your neck.

In his mind, this was better than anything. Being here with you, safe from the worries of the world in the cozy farmhouse he bought when he retired from the military almost a year and a half ago. This is how he wanted it to be.

Just as long as he was with you, he knew he was fine.

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