#The Saga of Your Brightness! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

catiuskaa · 14 days ago

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HEURES D’ABSENCE.

come to bed (study me instead).

sum. felix knows you have to study, but… he smells so nice too… ok, hear me out… what if, instead, he helps you... review your research material?

wc: 4.3k

cw: sun & moon metaphors, felix is so down bad, minsung is mentioned, they’re so silly, sir kink? (not explored), kisses, kisses, kisses, oral (m.rec), soft yet unprotected piv sex (don’t!), and that’s all, folks!

scent. (♡) the perfume saga.

[🔹★💤 ★🔹]

The Sun is the star at the center of the Solar System. It is a massive, nearly perfect sphere of hot plasma, heated to incandescence by nuclear fusion reactions in its core, radiating the energy from its surface mainly as visible light and infrared radiation with 10% at ultraviolet energies. It is by far the most important source of energy for life on Earth. The Sun has been an object of veneration in many cultures. It has been a central subject for astronomical research since antiquity.

It's kind of an obvious statement, I know, but Felix resembles it quite well, with a couple of exceptions. You know for a fact that he too is by far your most important source of energy for life on Earth. Still, even if Felix can’t help but giggle every time you compare him to the massive star —reason why now his friends call him Sunny, too— he doesn’t feel like he can compare.

He hopes he never gets heated to incandescence. He isn’t sure if any culture venerates him, but he’s quite sure to say that the chances are quite low. He also hopes no one calls him a ‘yellow dwarf.’ But ultimately, he knows he isn’t that massive star that the Earth orbits around because, if he were, he’d probably have a bright, nuclear solution to his silly recent troubles.

But Felix groans. He isn’t as observant as he’d like to be. Moreover, when he does eventually see it, somehow it is always a bit too late.

Hogging the blankets and hugging a pillow, he sinks his head into it again. He’s been turning in bed for what feels like hours because he can’t help but notice it now. He can’t help but wonder how it could escalate to such an extent right under his nose.

Felix blinks, sleepy, but not quite enough to fall asleep.

But hogging the blankets isn’t his thing. He feels hot, so he pushes the bedsheets off of him, just for his arms to feel cold, to which he mumbles a curse and grabs the blanket again. This is bugging him. A lot. Like, sure, it was happening under his nose, but his nose wasn’t even that big. It keeps going for a while: hot, cold, hot, cold.

It’s unfair, or so he feels. It’s gotta be, he grimaces, as he covers himself top to bottom with the stupid blanket, and sticks his foot out. Weirdly, that scares him, so he groans and finally surrenders.

Ladies and gents, it only took Felix a week to figure out and acknowledge: it’s getting harder to sleep without you by his side. The excuse his body gives him is another, however, so he rises from his bed and heads out.

If you hear the faint sounds the wood makes with each of his steps as he goes from his room to the kitchen, he does not know. Felix just stares at your room’s door in your shared apartment, and there’s not even a shy move. Nothing what-so-ever. Not even the slightest gust of wind that moves it.

Felix sighs, the hair in his arms spiky as he opens the fridge and a shiver rushes while he grabs a bottle of water, chugging it as if the answer to his troubles is at the end. Somehow, he never reaches it. He swallows, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the cold remnants of it quickly fade away down his throat.

That refreshes him, but the light from the fridge killed every ounce of sleepiness in his eyes. He leans his elbows on the kitchen counter, passing his hands through his hair.

It’s a struggle for him, and maybe he comes to terms with it just because it’s late at night for him. Because this is as pathetic as it sounds: you have been locked up in your room on a day-to-day basis because of your exams, and even if Felix understands, cooks you breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and checks on you when it’s late just to move your sleepy body from your desk to your bed, not seeing you aside from that is getting harder and harder.

Mhhm. Damn right. Pathetic, he knows. His roommate Minho—a poor guy stuck living in a flat with a lovey-dovey couple— had laughed one day so hard that they kicked them both out of the university’s library.

“I mean, sure I might miss Jisung like that whenever he has exams, but if I lived with him?” Minho scoffs as they both get out of the library. He feels bad for the blond boy though, so he sighs, patting his back. “Maybe you guys should talk this out, Sunny. C’mon, let’s get some hot coffee.”

Minho was in Jisung's apartment tonight, so Felix couldn’t go and bother him as he usually did. The only light in the flat was the one that escapes from the underside of your door. Like a moth, he gets closer, surrendering again. He sighs as he steps towards your room. Only then, he stops.

He doesn’t want to bother you. It may sound like a stupid excuse that he makes for himself, but ultimately it’s the only truth he knows. However, he grins, thinking that chances are you’ve probably fallen asleep on the desk again, your room smelling like paper, ink, and noodles. He can lie to himself and say that he was only going to tuck you into bed like usual. And so, taking the doorknob in his hand, and breathes out before opening it.

…until, well. You’re not asleep.

The Moon is Earth's only natural satellite. It orbits at an average distance of 384,400 km (238,900 mi), about 30 times the diameter of Earth. Tidal forces between Earth and the Moon have synchronized the Moon's orbital period (lunar month) with its rotation period (lunar day) at 29.5 Earth days, causing the same side of the Moon to always face Earth. The Moon's gravitational pull is the main driver of Earth's tides.

Maybe that is why as soon as the door is open, his heart dances in his chest. Maybe your gravitational pull is insignificant compared to that of the actual grey satellite, but Felix doesn’t have it in him to care when all he wants is to melt by your side. ‘You’re awake,’ he wants to say, but he shrugs it off. That’s a stupid sentence, even for him to say at three am. It is a fact that you barely sleep and that only worsens during exams week.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t let himself dwell on how not creative his mind turns out to be in the worst moments, not while your eyes hold his. It’s then when he sees through the midst of tired, sleepy confusion in the colour of your eyes that the hours of absence, of longing, of craving, crash against you almost as strongly as they crash against him. The sun and the moon on a collision course—fiery and untouchable, yet destined to shatter the sky when they finally meet.

There are no words —no other worlds: a star, and a satellite— as he stares at you, as you sit on the floor, against the edge of your bed, your room a mess and your desk a battleground that, by the looks of it, Felix can’t help but think you’re not having the upper hand in this war you’re fighting against piles of printed put PDFs. You want to stand up and hug him as if you haven’t seen him in months, but you don’t know your right foot from your left, your mind baffled and your heart swooning as soon as the dim light of your desk lets you see some of his darkest freckles, even as far away as he stands.

And somehow, he understands, meeting you halfway. Maybe he doesn’t, but you don’t have it in you to give a damn. Not when he’s back at your side.

It’d be foolish if he tried it right away, and maybe it’s because he knows you so well, but you appreciate that he doesn’t immediately urge you to go back to bed. Felix wouldn’t know if you had been in bed to begin with, but nevertheless, he sits with you against it, the only sound in the room being the ruffle the bedsheets make as he pulls at them to settle them back on the bed, and the sound of your computer’s fan, setting the mood just right.

You would’ve made that joke out loud, but you don’t have the energy. Not when all of your remaining energy goes to pay attention to the very much welcomed presence next to you, when he cradles your face with the palm of his hand, and every bit of hopelessness of your coloured eyes hits him, unrestrained.

“My misty moon.”

It’s a whisper, one that makes your heart sink. You missed that silly nickname so much, and it’s almost ridiculous –you have seen him during the week, but still, it doesn’t feel the same.

His arm slithers its way to your waist, scooching himself closer to you. You blink, noticing your eyes are teary.

Misty, ha. So funny.

Maybe you missed him that much, because it cracks a smile out of you. You don’t dare to doubt that you did. Maybe it’s because you’re stressed because of all the sheer amount of work you still have left to do —just the thought of it makes the room spin.

He hugs you tighter. Felix doesn’t know what to do. He pulls you closer. No, closer. His soft hands move to your thigh and pick you up, sitting you on his lap. He’s never seen you look so fragile.

It was silly. It was you who had asked him to let you be while exams lasted, because you concentrated better alone. The environment chaotic, sure, because you hadn’t had a dinner before two am that wasn’t noodles in like, a week, but still, even when you were roommates, he knew better than to approach you during exams. You had always made it clear: you just worked like that. He didn’t get it, but he also knows he’d do whatever you need. It hurt his soft little heart to see you push yourself so hard, but in the end, it always paid off.

But you had been missing him so much. So, so, so much you almost were convinced it couldn’t be normal. That you shouldn’t be. You had barely been together for a year, even if you had lived as roommates for longer. Was that even allowed? To miss someone so vividly when they are in the room next to you?

His chest feels warm against you. Oh, you missed him. Your chest gnaws at the feeling, your own heart hating you —despising you, even— from keeping it away from the warmth of this sun for so long —a little over a week— because, how could you be so cruel, your heart whines, teary and all smiley now.

You nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, and he chuckles softly.

“You’re tickling me, moonmuffin.”

His- his voice? His laugh? Surely he’s got to be trying to murder you in cold blood and cuddles. What else could he be attempting when he feels so soft and so warm and so kissable and so… Felix.

“You smell nice,” you mumble instead, excusing yourself as you attempt to break each and every law of physics you may or may not remember as you move and fail to get even closer to him.

“What?” he giggles again, his hands traveling to thread your hair.

His fingers through your scalp feel so nice you sigh and melt against him. You agree with your heart: how dare you take this away for a week? You should be imprisoned and sentenced to mandatory cuddles for the rest of your life. Yeah. Life-sentence cuddles. You brush your nose slightly over his collarbone. You’re lucky you even remember what you had been saying.

“Not my fault. You smell nice.”

You should peach the idea. Life sentence cuddles for not having cuddles before. For attempting to even succeed in not having cuddles for a week. That? That’s fucking crazy.

“Mooncakes. How about we get you to bed, mmh?”

Maybe two life sentences. ‘Damn. You’re really sleep deprived’, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it, loving the thought of cuddles and Felix for life. Wait, no, even better: Felix’s cuddles for life. That way you didn’t need to worry about not having two lives. You could just cuddle. With Felix.

Meanwhile, Felix doesn’t even struggle when his hand passes behind your knees and holds your back, carefully standing up and getting you in bed, and quickly reaching for the blanket to tuck you in.

“What are you mumbling about,” he smiles, stroking your cheek.

His touch feels softer than all the blankets in your apartment combined. Like cotton and clouds, soft, mushy, effervescent. A-blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of deal. Which is a very big deal, because there is no way in hell Felix even tries to leave. You have been sentenced to cuddles for life, and the law is the law.

“Oh no, mister,” you blink, smiling softly. “You don’t get to leave now.”

His eyes are like crescent moons while you look at him as if he was crazy. As if the mere thought of him trying to leave was mindboggling, along with downright impossible. Fat chance you were going to let him go past that door tonight. Or ever, your heart snickers, rubbing hands like birdman, almost menacingly.

“The bed is cold,” he teases.

“Warm it up, Sunny.”

Your reply comes faster than he anticipated despite how sleepy you look, and Felix can’t help but smile. He missed how that nickname sounded in your voice, even if it was layered below sleepiness. “Smartass,” he grins, but he tries to keep his promise. Just in case. He wouldn’t want you to be pissed off at him in the morning. “You should sleep.”

“Haha. As if.”

Your hands travel and link behind his head, keeping him an inch from your face. You’re making this too hard for poor, weak, little Felix, but he bites his lip. His voice turns even softer, a whisper against your lips.

“But I’ll just keep you awake.”

Your eyes trail down to his lips, and he’s so close to losing it. “Somehow I still don’t see the issue,” you mumble.

His nose strokes yours as he can’t help but giggle. “You’re so gonna get all moony about it tomorrow.”

“What does that even mean,” you scrunch your nose, much to his amusement.

Felix just laughs, shaking his head sheepishly.

“We should sleep.”

“Right.”

“You’ll be mad at me if you feel tired tomorrow.”

Now that makes you giggle, letting out a sound much like a lie detector would. A strange meeh that, had he not been as tired as he was, Felix would’ve rolled his eyes at.

“Wrong.”

He sighs, the smile on his face not faltering for a millisecond. “You’re making this too hard.”

You blink at him innocently, and Felix indulges again. Maybe because it’s late, but honestly, his mind is too tired to make up an excuse as to why he lowers his head and kisses your temple.

He hears how your breath hitches, and that makes him as giddy as the first time.

“You know, I read something off the pages on the floor last night,” Felix chuckles, stroking your nose with his as you blink and blush.

“Oh?” You smile, cheekily interested.

“Oh,” he teases you. “So, philosophy major, what’s all that with kisses and their meanings?”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, the thought of taking the spare pillow on your bed and hitting him with it getting tempting.

Felix’s hands play with the ends of your hair as it rests against the pillow below your head, a mindless action that he only stops to cradle your face and press against your cheeks teasingly.

“My cute fluffy moon. A philosophy romantic.”

“Enough,” you whine, laughing. His heart does a little dance every time he gets a chuckle out of you, and this time, a win is a win. “Fine, I’ll tell you about it.”

“You know, I’m actually a visual learner?”

Felix bites his tongue when your eyebrows raise. Even he knew that was fairly smooth, which is only acknowledged when you roll your eyes.

“So, technicalities aside, because I refuse to tell the intro again or even read it within the next ten hours,” you state, making him laugh as you continue talking, “the human species has many types of kissing. And all of them have different underlining meanings.”

The look in his brown eyes remains expecting, however, so it seems that short explanation won’t do to make the suddenly-turned Professor Felix happy. Or so he makes it seem, by how he fakes pushing non-existent glasses further the bridge of his nose.

“That seems like an interesting research,” he starts, pushing the non-existent glasses again. “I see,” he snorts, because it’s late, it’s a lame joke, and he’s trying to get you to give him the kisses he’s been missing all week —and he may be close to getting some, which he celebrates silently.

“Any examples, perchance?”

And just why the hell would you refuse?

“Of course, sir,” it’s just because of his formal tone, but something in the air shifts. Maybe just the dust that gets bored and changes direction in the air, but Felix’s eyes also do something you can’t quite place. But your mind goes up to the files, seeing if you understand the topic you are researching.

“How about we do it this way— you say a body part, and I tell you its meaning?”

Oh, fuck yeah. Felix can’t believe he’s getting it this easily. He could die right now, filled with the cheeky malice of getting a plan executed successfully, but he ain’t dying without those kisses.

He ponders carefully but decides to start easy. “A kiss on the cheek?”

As your hands softly move to cradle his face, the feeling of your soft lips against his skin, soft soft soft, so soft he can’t think of a better adjective to describe it nor another by any chance, the gentle and tender press of your kiss triggers the butterflies that linger around in his system ever since he’d started liking you.

“Depending on the culture, a kiss on the cheek indicates affection or tries to portray a sense of welcoming,” you state in a calming voice filled with sleepiness that’s slowly starting to wear off.

“Forehead.” Felix grins, feeling his cheeks heat up when your hands move his head so you can reach from where you are lying down underneath him and shortly peck him.

“A deep wish for protection, with underlying affection. A way to express one’s desire for the other’s well-being.”

“I uh… may be running out of ideas,” Felix chuckles sheepishly. But please don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop. Ever.

He shuts up his heart as you start speaking. “I’ll take the microphone from here, then,” you laugh.

And Felix smiles widely as he starts being pampered to death in the form of kisses. A kiss on his earlobe, “to provoke arousal.” A kiss on his hands, “to greet with respect.” A tiny peck on his nose, “to express care.” A slightly longer kiss on his lips, “love,” you continue as you smile at him.

Had he been standing, Felix would’ve swooned by now. He doesn’t know how his arms haven’t surrendered and finally refused to hold his weight over you, but there he remains, over you, legs tangled underneath the bedsheets, with the only light in the room —your desk light— lighting not only his face, but also his eyes as they shine brighter after every kiss.

“Now, as you so obviously know, as a thorough expert in the matter,” you joke, happy to make him laugh, “other, different kisses may share meaning with these.”

“I see. Go on, then.”

It only takes another “Of course, sir,” and there it goes again. The tension in the room spikes up, like the hair in your arms whenever you look at the mess your room is in during exams.

But you’re having fun. And you smile. “A kiss on the lips indicates love, as I stated prior,” you snicker, kissing him on the lips again, maybe to make a point, maybe because after all these kisses he’s starting to taste like the most delicious thing you could take to your mouth.

Blame the tension for that, your heart grins at you, pushing you from behind to keep going. And there you go.

“There’s also what is called French kissing.” You swear you can see the exact moment where your desk light rats him out, allowing you to see how his pupils darken when instead of lifting your head to reach him, you finally link your arms behind his head and pull him down towards you, kissing him on the lips again, deeply this time, nibbling on his lips and taking advantage of the moment he smiles to slide your tongue in.

Felix isn’t just on cloud nine. He’s on cloud nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine. He’s never been so high in the sky, and even if it is currently past midnight, had he been the actual, real Sun, not only would he be shining as much as he is now, but also make tomorrow the day with the clearest blue skies.

None of you can tell who is it that starts deepening the kiss. None of you can tell who’s the first that starts panting and gasping while both his and your hands start to map the other’s body, as if they’ve lost something and were sure the other one had it hidden somewhere.

You, however, are sure that there’s no such thing as a good night kiss anymore, because, with Felix’s knee between your thighs and his tongue in your mouth, you’re so not going to allow this alluring man who you’ve been dreaming about since the exams week started to leave you just like that.

To hell with tomorrow’s exam.

Felix, the poor boy, can’t read your mind. Maybe that’s why he gasps so heavily he lets out a moan when you roll him to his back and kiss him again before he can catch his breath. Maybe it's why he keeps letting out moans when he notices you smiling as you kiss him, your hands trailing up below his shirt.

“T-that tickles,” he smiles, panting, as your fingers trail faintly over his skin, making him feel goosebumps.

It doesn’t tickle anymore when it’s your lips that follow his happy trail, down, down, down. He takes off his shirt as if it’s burning, and if he’s honest with himself, he can’t think of a time when he has wanted this as desperately as he does now.

There’s no doubt in his mind that in your darkened eyes the same thought lingers on your head, while they stare deeply into his own, almost in a way capturing his soul, the sensation as effervescent yet not as pleasurable as the one that travels from his dick to his whole body as your hand closes around it. God, if Felix loves that sensation. He was so drunk once that he remembers thinking that if he could marry it, he probably would’ve. Somewhere in Las Vegas, too.

His head falls limp against the pillows with a thud, his hand threading into your hair as pretty little moans leave past his lips, following the sticky sweet sounds your mouth starts to make as you attempt to take him in, hollowing your cheeks and leaving your hand at the base to make up for what you can’t fit.

“F-fuck, baby, that’s so good…” he lets out over and over,” so good, baby, so good,” he almost mewls, “missed you s’much, fuck…”

He lets out a groan as he moves your head away, because he could bet money that he was a beat way from bursting, and he wouldn’t lose. Even then, losing the opportunity to fuck you for all the times he sighed pathetically this week, missing you when you were just next door, is much, much worse.

Felix’s soft hands travel, stroking every square inch of surface he can at a time, passing your thighs, your stretch marks and your hip dips —ones he has been a devout worshiper for God knows how long, dedicating entire nights (and days, if it had been only for him) to the both of them— bending to press soft kisses from your tummy up to your cleavage, his hands playing with your nipples just to hear your whines as he helps you lean your back down softly on the bed.

Felix whispers soft and tender nothings in your ear, mixed with silly sentences just because he’s missed having you below him so stupidly, stupidly because you’ve missed him just as much. He too kisses you everywhere after he slides in, only because he’s pretty sure that if he starts moving right away, he might not last as long as he wants.

Your cheek, your forehead, your temple, on the palm of your hand before linking his fingers with it, on your nose just so he can smile at you when you scrunch it.

“Sunny, don’t tease,” you pout cutely, moving your hips.

Finally, Felix giggles as he dives for your lips deeply. And when he kisses you, you smile, reeling in the feeling of his lips against your lips.

A solar eclipse.

[🔹★💤 ★🔹]

~kats, who’s genuinely tweaking bc why do i feel like this wouldn’t work if i hadn’t sneaked astronomical stuff in it?

catiuskaa, february 2025 ©

I AM??? SO SORRY?? I HAVEN'T POSTED IN?? SO LONG?? MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR??? LIKE ??'?'?'?' I MISSED SO MUCH??

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riality-check · 1 year ago

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DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2

"I have to open it."

"Nope."

"Gareth. I need to open it."

"The vault is sacred," Archie says.

At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."

Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"

"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.

Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.

"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.

"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.

Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."

Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.

It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.

He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.

Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.

Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.

(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)

From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.

Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.

"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.

"Is that how we ask?"

"I could always yank the key off you."

Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.

Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.

Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.

And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.

But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.

Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.

Or maybe Steve was just that hot.

He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.

His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:

I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.

Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.

"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.

"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."

"What did he say?" Archie asks.

Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.

Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.

"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.

"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.

Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.

"What do I say?" he asks.

Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."

"I don't know how!"

"You ground against a guitar-"

"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"

Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"

"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.

Jeff barks out a laugh.

"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.

Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?

"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.

"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.

Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.

"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.

"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.

"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."

"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"

"He might be ace."

"Archie, shut the fuck up."

He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.

Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.

He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.

This is. So bad.

And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.

Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.

I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.

"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.

"He's single!" Gareth cheers.

"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.

"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.

They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.

But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.

He writes back, once he's calmed down:

Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.

#ria writes #dilf and concert #d&c au #steddie #steddie ficlet #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #rockstar eddie munson #dilf steve harrington

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demonic0angel · 5 months ago

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So far ever since the new epic musical album came up I've been seeing a lot more people come up with the idea of the god games but Danny Phantom

And I was just imagining how funny if in that song Dan was Aphrodite and Danielle was Aries

I'm about to get more as Danielle being a goddess of trickery and chaos of all types and can being considered to be three-faced like having like a three-faced mask that she wears around a lot and using her ability to melt as a way to appear behind people vastly without them noticing and she's really protective over Dan since she considers herself to be his older sibling because in her opinion he came in the family last

Dan being the ancient of love being so terrifying because love can also be considered to be a scary thing with his symbol being eagles and stuff and he is much more terrifying and violated the most people expect from the god of love but also when he needs to be complete and loving

I imagine Tucker taking up the sense of being Apollo with him being The reincarnation of an old pharaoh they're kind of being like a lots of Egyptian things around him but also like a theme of more technologically advanced with him working on a PDA all kind of having modern clothes on with hints of Egyptian pharaoh

oh and Sam acting like Hephaestus would be more interested in the plant she has in her garden then the heroes her clothes are kind of nature-like invite but also give all of a sense of golfness with like her plant giving off the shape of a large Palace that looks terrifying on the outside but the inside is filled with plants of all types

I imagine Jazz has like a therapist like setting office but like it's a open Greek palace like things of gold and bright blues and just being laid around it looks like an conference room but also like an open Palace I feel like her simple animal being Wolf's and bears would be so funny also be a hint to the little bear plush that she owns

I kind of feel like Danny's level would be a mix of Jazz's and Sam's with Danny's being like an open Palace room that kind of has like the hints of someone young is there with random bean bags being scattered around or miniature handcraft spaceships but also stars all around I feel like it'd be cute if his symbol animal was jellyfish which like jellyfish Stars kind of like float around

But I've just been imagining that song with Danny Phantom x DC I can probably start off with the Justice League like always getting into something this year now than having to deal with the consequence of it and the consequences is six teenagers taking a vote or not to kill them

Gods, I can’t wait for the Vengeance Saga

I am in love with the idea of Dan being Aphrodite and Dani being Ares, especially bc they’re both gods of war. And in EPIC, Aphrodite’s argument is about a mother’s love!! I hope you like the quick sketch of them :3

I don’t agree with a few of your ideas, but they all seem really fun. The idea of the Justice League having to argue against 6 teenagers is funny, bc imagine that they think they can argue against Dani and she just stabs them. Meanwhile, Jazz is like: so how did you feel when you got stabbed? when they come to her later to argue against her.

Actually, I also had thoughts about DP x EPIC, except Sam and Tucker were Odysseus (they shared the role idk) and Danny was Penelope. Jazz was Athena, Dani was Aeolus, and Dan was Scylla 😩

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midnightfict · 28 days ago

Text

Back in Our Days.

— 𓆩𓆪 —

𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪

Summary — When two, now estranged friends get caught in an unexpected encounter which triggers a feeling one thought was lost.

A/N — This story is loosely inspired by the song "Who Are You?" - Saga Faye. Please give me story requests, I get story inspirations from songs and/or real-life situations, and I'm currently up for a new challenge.

read pt. 2 here

— 𓆩𓆪 —

The streets of Seoul were bustling as usual. People hurried past, umbrellas shielding them from a faint drizzle. On opposite sides of the road, two figures unknowingly walked in parallel paths. You clutched your bag nervously, trying to avoid the water from ruining your belongings, while on the other side, a tall man in a sleek black coat walked confidently, his face partially hidden by a baseball cap.

As the traffic lights turned red, you stepped onto the crosswalk, and your eyes caught his. Something about him felt achingly familiar, but the thought slipped away as the two of you passed each other. Just as you reached the other side, an unexplainable tug made you glance back. You saw him turn too, his eyes meeting yours for a short moment.

“Byung-hun?” you murmured under your breath.

Gathering your courage, you waved with a bright smile, the kind you always used to greet him with back in the day. But instead of the warm recognition you expected, his expression remained monotone. He looked away and continued walking.

Your hand fell slowly, your smile fading. Hurt pricked at your chest, but you shook it off, convincing yourself there must be some explanation. You couldn't help but remember the joyful times you spent with him.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The bell rang, signaling the start of class, but the seat next to you was still empty. You tapped your pencil against your desk, glancing out the window. Moments later, Byung-hun slipped into the classroom, his hair slightly disheveled, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“You’re late,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“And you’re still here? I thought you’d be bored to death already,” he shot back with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. Byung-hun leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Wanna ditch?”

“What?” you whispered, eyes widening. “We can’t just—”

“C’mon, we're seniors. They won't bat an eye!” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your seat.

The two of you sneaked out through the back gate, muffling your laughter as the wind rushed past. The afternoon was spent at a nearby arcade, battling each other in games, eating street food, and talking about dreams that seemed so big back then.

"I want to be a famous actor," He proudly claimed.

"One day, I'm going to write a movie, and I'll make you the biggest actor in the world," You replied, supporting his dream.

As the sun began to set, you both sat by the riverbank, the golden light reflecting on the water.

“Promise me,” he said suddenly, turning to face you.

“Promise you what?”

“That no matter what happens, we’ll always stick together. Okay?”

You smiled, holding out your pinky. “Promise.”

He hooked his pinky with yours, his grin wide and genuine. “Promise.”

Later that evening, you both parted ways. Your grin and wave brought out a giggle from him. It was a small moment, but it stayed with you. You had no idea how much that promise would mean for him.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The memory faded as you found yourself back in the present, the bustling streets of Seoul grounding you once more. The ache in your chest deepened. What had changed? Why did he act like he didn’t know you?

A few days passed and he still lingers in your mind. You were scrolling through your phone when a message from your sister popped up. It was a video link accompanied by a single question:

Doesn't he used to go to your school?

You clicked on the link, your heart skipping a beat as a familiar face appeared on the screen. Lee Byung-hun. The caption read: “Rising Star Lee Byung-hun Shares His Story.”

In the video, he was seated on a sleek couch, his polished demeanor worlds away from the carefree boy you once knew. The interviewer asked about his childhood, and his response hit like a punch to the gut.

“Honestly, I never really felt like I belonged anywhere,” he said, his voice calm and composed. “High school was a lonely time for me. I didn't have any close relations.”

Your heart clenched. How could he say that? The boy who had once sworn to always be there for you—the boy you had shared countless memories with—now claimed he had no friends?

You replayed the clip, hoping you had misunderstood. But the words stayed the same. Each repetition felt like another crack in the foundation of your cherished memories. You closed the video and sat back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of confusion and hurt pressing heavily on your chest. Trying to distract yourself, you grabbed a random book to read. But fate seemed to have other plans.

A picture from your early high school days fell off the shelf. It was the two of you, grinning widely as you held up a trophy from a group project competition. The memory behind that photo stirred something deep inside you. You remembered how you had to practically drag him to the stage when he was too embarrassed to go up, telling him, “You did just as much as I did. If I’m going up, so are you.”

Your fingers hovered over the picture, and as you stared at it, the emotions bubbling within pulled you back further into another memory—your first encounter with Byung-hun. It was so vivid, as though the years separating then and now had disappeared entirely.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The classroom was crowded with chatter as the new student was introduced. Lee Byung-hun stood at the front, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“You can take the seat next to her,” the teacher said, pointing toward you.

He shuffled over, barely sparing you a glance as he sat down.

“Hi! How are you?” you said brightly.

He looked at you, surprised. “I'm fine, thanks.”

“Nice to meet you, Byung-hun. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Whether it was group projects, lunch breaks, or late-night phone calls, you had each other’s backs. You remembered the way he had slowly opened up, sharing stories about his old school and how he always felt like an outsider.

“Not anymore,” you had told him with a grin. “You belong here now.”

His smile had been shy but grateful. “Thank you,”

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Had those moments meant nothing to him? You felt tears sting your eyes, the hurt bubbling up uncontrollably. But almost immediately, you wiped your face, taking a deep, shuddering breath. This wasn’t you. You weren’t going to let these feelings drown you.

Needing to clear your head, you grabbed your house keys and slipped on your shoes. Fresh air would help, you told yourself. You stepped out into the cool evening, the faint rain lingering in the air. Without thinking, you began walking, letting your feet guide you as your mind remained tangled in memories.

At some point, you found yourself standing at the same crosswalk where you had seen Byung-hun just days ago. You froze for a moment, staring at the spot where you had smiled and waved, only to be met with his indifference. The pang of that memory made you glance down, biting your lip, before you continued walking.

Lost in thought, you didn’t realize how far you had gone until you stopped in front of a building that made you blink in surprise. It was the old arcade you and Byung-hun used to visit whenever you ditched school. The bright, flashing neon lights seemed almost out of place among the modern cityscape, but there it was—still standing after all these years.

Curiosity and nostalgia drew you in. The familiar jingle of the entrance bell brought a flood of memories. You wandered the aisles, eyes scanning the games you used to play together, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. It felt surreal, being back here after so long.

“Excuse me,” a voice called out, pulling you from your thoughts. An older man, likely one of the long-time workers, approached you with a curious expression. “You look familiar… Weren’t you a regular here back in the day? Always hanging out with that tall boy…”

You blinked, surprised that he remembered. “Uh, yeah. That was me,” you said with a sheepish smile.

“What was his name again? Byung-something, right?” the man asked, snapping his fingers as he tried to recall.

“Byung-hun,” you supplied softly, the name tasting bittersweet on your tongue.

“Ah, that’s right! Byung-hun! You two were always together. How’s he doing? Are you still in touch?”

The question made your heart twist. “I… no. We're not,” you admitted, averting your gaze.

The man’s face softened. “That’s a shame. You know, I could always tell he cared about you a lot. That boy… he liked you from the very beginning. Said so himself once.”

You froze, your breath catching. “What?”

The man chuckled, clearly unaware of the impact his words had. “Yeah, he mentioned it when you two came in here for the first time. He was so shy about it, though. Just kept watching you out of the corner of his eye, like you were the best thing he’d ever seen. But the last time I saw him, he was a mess. He said you left the country and he wasn't sure if you were going to come back. One thing he said he knew for sure though is that he lost you forever,”

Your mind reeled, the revelation hitting you like a train. All the memories you had shared with Byung-hun suddenly carried a new weight, a new meaning. To you, your goodbye meant a new chapter being written. But to him, it meant losing you—losing everything. Before you could process it further, the man was called away by another customer, leaving you standing there, stunned.

And then, as if the universe wanted to twist the knife, your thoughts shifted—to him. From his perspective, starting from the moment he had seen you again at that crosswalk.

— 𓆩Byung-Hun𓆪 —

Byung-hun adjusted the brim of his baseball cap as he walked briskly down the bustling street. He was on his way to a meeting for his upcoming film, the one everyone was talking about. His agent had reminded him—yet again—how important this role was for his rising career. But none of that was on his mind when he stopped at the crosswalk.

The moment he saw her, his heart stuttered. There she was, on the opposite side of the road, clutching her bag tightly like she always used to when she was nervous. His feet rooted to the ground, his breath catching in his chest. It had been years, but she hadn’t changed much. The same eyes, the same demeanor—still as beautiful as he remembered.

For a second, he thought about calling out to her, but the words died in his throat. How could he? He wasn’t the same person she used to know, and seeing her so cheerful, so bright—it hurt. She looked like she’d moved on, like she’d left their memories behind. And him? He had spent years trying to forget her, but here she was, undoing all of it with just a glance.

As they crossed paths, he saw her wave and smile at him, the same smile she used to give him back in high school. It took everything in him to keep walking, to pretend he didn’t know her. He wasn’t ready to face her, not when all the unresolved emotions threatened to spill over.

He forced his legs to keep moving, his jaw tightening as he left her behind. Once he was out of sight, he paused, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. His hands trembled as he adjusted his coat, but he shook his head and pushed himself forward. He had a meeting to attend.

Hours passed by, and Byung-hun sat at the long table, nodding along as the director explained the plot of his next project—a romance with a bittersweet ending. He should have been focused, taking notes, asking questions. But his mind was elsewhere.

“Byung-hun?” the director’s voice snapped him back to reality. “What do you think?”

He cleared his throat, straightening in his seat. “It’s… an intriguing story,” he replied, forcing a professional tone.

The plot they had described, two people brought together by fate, only to be torn apart by circumstances, felt uncomfortably familiar. It made him think of her, of the promises they had made back in high school. Promises that, in the end, neither of them could keep.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

The days leading up to graduation were supposed to be exciting, full of plans and dreams for the future. But something had shifted between you and Byung-hun. You had been distant, avoiding his questions and brushing off his attempts to talk.

“Y/N,” he finally cornered you after class one day, his tone firm. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird.”

You hesitated, looking anywhere but at him. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled.

“It’s not nothing,” he pressed. “Just tell me.”

Before you could answer, a classmate approached, grinning. “Hey, Y/N! Congrats on the acceptance letter! How’s the prep for moving abroad going?”

Byung-hun froze, his eyes snapping to you. “Abroad?”

You winced, guilt written all over your face. “I was going to tell you…”

“When?” he demanded, his voice rising. “After you left? Or were you just never going to say anything?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” he repeated, his laugh bitter. “Do you even realize what this feels like? We promised we’d always be there for each other. And now you’re just leaving?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I was scared, okay? I didn’t know how you’d react. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Byung-hun shook his head, his jaw clenching. “Do I even mean anything to you?”

The argument ended with no resolution. The days that followed were filled with silence, both of you too hurt to bridge the gap. But on the day of your flight, Byung-hun showed up at the airport.

“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye,” he said, his voice soft but strained. “I… I had to see you.”

You hugged him tightly, whispering apologies and promises to stay in touch. He hugged you back, but deep down, he knew things would never be the same.

"I'm chasing my dreams, Byung-hun. Dreams that I had never even thought were possible. I hope you'll understand and I know you will. You'll always stay in my mind... my best friend. And when I'm back, I better see your face plastered on every movie poster in town," You lightly joked.

He couldn't even crack a chuckle at her. Just tears and hiccups.

As he watched your plane take off, he wondered if you knew. If you knew, would you still go?

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Sitting in that conference room, Byung-hun felt the weight of those memories pressing down on him. The question that had haunted him for years resurfaced. Had she ever loved him the way he loved her? And if she did… was it too late to find out?

#lee byung hun x reader #front man #squid game #fluff #angst #x reader #lee byung hun #hwang in ho #reqs open

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noxoutloud · 1 month ago

Text

things about epic the musical & its fandom that would’ve undoubtedly sent Homer into a coma: an ongoing saga

Zeus’ metaphors

All the jokes involving There Are Other Ways

Everything about Telemachus (especially his Disney Princess™️-esque music that we all know & love)

Ody’s abstinence

That one animatic after they kill Polyphemus’ sheep where Polites is just like 😃

The sheer number of movies/ shows/ books that people have found follow a similar plot to the Odyssey

“We’ve been away from home for… about 12 years or so”

The Jorge & Hermes clips

Similarly, the Hermes & Tiresias clips

Jorge’s OG versions where all the voices are him

The sound effects

Terminology. Specifically words like canon

The fast order-giving at the start of The Horse and the Infant

Anything depicting Poseidon being depressed after losing to Odysseus

Similarly: HOW Ody won against Poseidon in the end

Aeolus being voiced by a woman(?)

Ody not meeting Achilles/ etc in the Underworld

Most of the animatics

All the misheard lyrics, especially “Well done, you LIED TO ME, what’s your name?”

The medley at the start of Love in Paradise

OPEN ARMS

The fandom’s portrayal of Polites

Six Hundred Strike, what happens in it, & the animatics associated

Every time someone draws, says, or even THINKS about Eury imitating Circe in Pupeteer

The SHIPS especially Polites & Ody

Any AU fic ever

Absolutely everything about Hermes

Every joke about Tiresias singing “I see” when he’s blind (especially a recent TikTok that just blared LIE every time he said it 😭)

These kinds of videos: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=WRRtAm1WLUQ

youtube

Specifically this post below:

@theinfamousodysseus

That one TikTok of the confusion saga

Ody’s slaying lines in Hold Them Down, but especially this:

@songb1rd

The wrong kind of “floating island”

Aphrodite’s part of God Games (the wow factor)

Ares’ part of God Games (the AAA SCARY factor)

“You’re adorable, bow down now to the immortal ✨Calypso✨…”

Poseidon bright blue eyes filter (@logical-emotion)

#epic the ithaca saga #epic odysseus #epic the musical #epic the vengeance saga #epic the wisdom saga #epic the thunder saga #epic poseidon #epic the troy saga #epic athena #epic penelope #odysseus #polites x odysseus #polites #eurylochus #eurylocus epic #homers odyssey

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bvbygrl-writes · 5 months ago

Text

Season of The Witch (1)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: I recently watched the Twilight Saga for the first time and fell in love with it but I noticed there's not a lot of recent fics so I decided to make them! This doesn't follow the twilight series exactly but the elements and settings are still the same. Everyone is aged up (I mean does Edward really need to be tbf). If this gets enough feedback in my inbox and comments I will continue but this is mainly a tester to see how it does!

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni.

Everyone always talks about how hard it is moving in the middle of the school year. But, what they never talk about is how hard it is to move once you’ve just graduated. Friend groups are already established and due to college, no one is looking to meet anyone new until they’re off to whichever university they’ve decided to attend.

You, however, weren’t off to university. You knew it wasn’t right from you. Your parents supported your decision. In fact, they were thrilled…but not for the reasons you originally thought. Your dad wanted to move back to his home town of Forks, Washington and your mom, being a lover of nature, thought it was the perfect change of scenery. According to the conversation they had with you, it wasn’t a spur of the moment decision either. Your dad had gotten a job as head surgeon and your mom had bought a space to turn into the bakery she had dreamed of owning for years. It was something they had been wanting to do for years but due to the fact you were doing so well in school, they hadn’t wanted to rip you away from that.

Part of you, the part of you that didn’t want to admit it to yourself, wish that they had. Maybe then you’d have a better chance at your 20s not being so lonely in a town that so far on the drive from the airport, seemed to be desolate and void of any youth. But, it wasn’t all bad. With all the greenery and nature, you’d be able to focus on growing your powers more.

You came from a long lineage filled with powerful and strong witches, your mother being one of them. On your thirteenth birthday, your powers finally presented themselves and everything began to make sense for you. You had always felt different from your peers and having the confirmation that you were healed something in you. Your mom had been mentoring you and through her, you had learned so much over the years. As your eyes gazed out the rain littered car window, focusing on the ocean of trees that passed in a blur, one thing she had said stuck out to you the most. ‘A witch is at her strongest when surrounded by nature’.

Every weekend, she used to drive 6 hours there and back to a small patch of woods outside of the city. But now, you had access to the forest in any direction you looked.

“I’m thinking of starting a garden in the yard, (Y/n/n), what do ya think?” your mom asked, causing your head to turn in her direction. Her body was turned back to face you, the small wrinkles near her mouth creasing as she grinned. She always had an air of vibrancy and brightness to her that made you question if you were even related sometimes. It was like you could practically feel her emotions buzzing off of her and piercing into your heart. You hummed mulling over your response, turning your attention back to your window, watching as the trees slowly began to turn into homes the further you drove into town.

“Sounds good.” you responded. Your limited word choice was something you had gotten from your father. He wasn’t as introverted as you were, but he only spoke when he found the conversation particularly interesting. And when it came to his wife, he found everything interesting.

“I think that’s a great idea, honey! There’s a lot of space at the house and I know if anyone can make it magical, it’s you.” You watched in the rear view mirror as his eyes flickered towards your mom, full of admiration. Your mom giggled at his small joke, shoving his shoulder in a playful manner. “Maybe in the spring, you could get some fruit growing, use it in your bakery.”

“Why wait till spring? I could do it now with the flick of a finger.” she mused, holding out her palm. Golden sparks hovered above it, swirling in a circular motion. Your dad smiled at her, shaking his head as he pulled into a driveway which you assumed was your new home. Sticking your head out the window, you looked up at it in awe.

In the city, your house was a lot smaller. Lots of identical homes sandwiched far too close together for your liking. But this house, it had character. Faded green framework, a bay window, and a semi wrap-around porch. You noticed a window on the second story, a small balcony attached to it. In your mind you had already claimed it. The slamming of the van door broke you out of your brewing daydream. Looking on the lawn, you internally groaned as you saw people. Just what you wanted to see after a 7 hour car ride. Before you could duck down and pretend you couldn’t exist, your dad turned his head, shaking it as if he could predict what you were about to do.

“(Y/n), come meet my friends!” he called to you. Sighing, you pulled your cardigan closer to your body before hopping out the back seat, stretching your arms as the snap, crackled, and popped. You were finally able to get a good look at the people on your lawn. An older white man with brunette hair, and a thick mustache. Another in a wheelchair, with long, thick black hair, a cowboy hat perched on his head. You recognized them from the pictures from your dad’s office. “These are my old buddies, Billy Black and Charlie Swan. We grew up together!” he explained. Putting on your best smile, you stuck your hand out, shaking each of their respective hands.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both after hearing dad talk my ears off about you for years.” You joked, causing both men to chuckle.

“If it makes you feel any better, your dad’s always bragging about ya, kid.” Charlie said. You smile slightly at your dad as he tells you that. Your dad has never been a stranger of telling you how proud he is of you, so it doesn’t shock you that much but it’s still nice to hear it.

“Enough chatting, how’s bout I grab some beers from the cooler and we can start unpacking this uhaul? We’ve got some time but let me tell ya’, the Mrs. does not pack light.” Your dad speaks over his shoulder as he makes his way to the trunk. You hear the sound of ice shuffling as he grabs a few beers out, cracking them open on the side of the car.

“Everything has value, David! You’ll be thanking me when it saves you the money!” Your mom says from the open door, huffling as she grabs another box from the porch, carrying it further into the house. Shaking your head, you smile some. At least some things haven’t changed.

After a while, you finally got all of your boxes into your new room. The one with the balcony as you had hoped. All your heavier furniture was still on the lawn as Mr.Black had informed you his son would be coming soon to bring it up for you. In the meantime, you had time to put your other things up. Standing in the middle of the room, you close your eyes, focusing your mind for a bit as your body begins to levitate, just barely hitting the high ceilings. Waving your hand, your rolled up rug unfolds placing itself in the middle of your room. You squint your eyes until you’re able to locate the box labeled ‘books’, hovering your hand in their direction. You move it to the built-in bookshelves on the wall, all of your books organizing themselves perfectly. Magic has its perks.

You decide to go for the books next until there’s a knock on your door startling you. You fall to the ground with a loud thud, groaning as the door swings open. Looking up, your body grows warm at the sight in front of you. There’s a taller boy around your age, shirtless with your mattress under one of his arms. Due to his lack of shirt, you’re able to take in every inch of his chiseled chest and the tattoo on his arm. You recognized the symbol from one of the spellbooks your mother showed you but couldn’t recall the meaning. As you pry your eyes away from his torso, you’re able to focus on his face which is somehow even better than what you were just looking at. Gorgeous brown eyes, thick brows, and pretty pink lips. He was somehow rugged and cute at the same time but you had no time to focus on that as he dropped your mattress on the ground, pulling you up with ease.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a concerned tone. You looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat as you backed away from his hold.

“Fine. Just tripped over this stupid rug.” You mumbled. He looks you up and down, laughing as he returns to the mattress, lifting it with ease. Almost too much. He leans it against the wall furthest from you before returning to the doorway. He smiles at you, throwing you a subtle wink.

“Just in case. I’ll be back with the rest, try not to hurt yourself in the meantime.” He teases, gone just as quickly as he came. You stand frozen in place, listening as he makes his way down the stairs, the sounds of his steps fading. Once you were sure he was gone, you walk over to the balcony doors, stepping out into the chilly fall air. You let out a groan as you lean over it, playing with the idea of jumping off. At least you wouldn’t be able to embarrass yourself any further.

#twilight #jacob black x reader #edward cullen x reader #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n #twilight x you #jacob black x you #jacob black imagine #edward cullen x y/n #blackgirlsfortwilight #twilight imagine

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ask-lock-shock-and-barrel · 4 months ago

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The Saga of Your Brightness!

Epilogue

#tnbc #tnbc fanart #lock shock and barrel #the nightmare before christmas #comic saga #comic #The Saga of Your Brightness!#tnbc shock #tnbc lock #jack skellington #tnbc sally #tnbc mayor #tnbc oc: rosa #tnbc barrel #not an ask #tnbc oc: nectarine #tnbc oc: barrel's parents

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lalalunel · 3 months ago

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Shh, he can't know..

wrote this like ages ago with dbf Leon in mind bc it's my FAV version of Leon yes this is also pathetic Leon saga

wc: 288

cw: oral m!recieving, dirty talk, gagging

enjoy?

You shut your eyes tight, breathing in through your nose sporadically as Leon pushed your head down, packing your mouth with a low groan. You tapped his thigh with a choked whimper, to which he tutted disapprovingly.

"C'mon sweetheart, you're doing so good, stay like that for a bit, hm?" He praises, grasping at your hair with a better grip to slowly bob your head up and down on his length. He pushed you all the way down, pressing his tip into the back of your throat and eliciting a gagging noise from you.

"Shh, quiet, baby. Don't want your dad hearing you," he sighed lowly, tipping his head back against the couch as your mouth enveloped his cock. He pushed you all the way down for a moment, holding his cock deep within your mouth and relishing the way your throat squeezed around his head. “Oh, what would he think, sweetheart?”

"What would he think if he saw this? Your mouth full of my cock in the living room, the way you're drooling all over and making me feel so good. We can't have him finding out, can we?" He looked back down at you, expecting an answer, laughing a little when he realized you couldn't speak.

He pulled your back up, letting you take a breath and give him an answer. "N-no, we can't." you replied hoarsely, already looking a mess just from that moment. Your cheeks were a bright pink hue, eyes teary from brief lack of air yet glimmering all the same, drool dripping down your chin in an obscene trail.

"Atta girl, so keep quiet, ‘kay?" He said approvingly, gently pushing between your lips, coaxing you back down on his cock once more.

~~~

gawk gawk core

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #pathetic leon saga

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littlexdeaths · 8 months ago

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the car troubles saga comes to a close?

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

the last installment of the car troubles saga for now… but you’ll definitely be seeing more of these two 🥰

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

the sounds of grinding metal and loud rock music fill your ears as you step into sinclair’s auto repair shop.

the chatter among the shop is incessant as you look over the multiple cars until you find your 1979 chevy caprice parked amongst the rest.

but your heart leaps into your throat when you see a familiar pair of legs sticking out from underneath it.

“yo, munson! got a customer!”

you can hear his curse and the banging of a head, and you can’t help but giggle softly when he rolls out from underneath your car. he’s rubbing his dinged forehead, and in the process he accidentally swipes more grease across his skin.

but when his eyes find yours they soften, and he grins widely. once he returns to his feet, he’s wiping the remaining grease onto the rag that he shoves in the back pocket of his coveralls. it’s then that he takes you in fully, dressed in a pretty little sundress and sandals.

you’re a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. the weather is somehow even more sweltering than the day before, and the beads of sweat sticking to your skin almost sparkle in the bright lights of the garage.

“so, what’s the damage?” you ask teasingly once you reach him.

eddie just chuckles, hand hovering over the small of your back as he guides back towards your car. but the barely there touch has your heart racing.

“well, you had a faulty radiator cap, and were in desperate need of an oil change…. when was the last time you got one?”

you bite your lip, a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you. “uh, last fall… i think?”

his answering groan has you giggling again despite yourself, and eddie leans his hip against the hood of your car.

“now let me tell you what’s gonna happen,” he chuckles. “you’re gonna march that pretty little ass of yours in here six months from now to get that changed, got it?”

you nod, feeling a little flustered at the mention of your ass and pretty in the same sentence. and by his subtle smirk, he knows the effect he has on you.

“alright well, i’m all finished here. we can step in the office and discuss payment options, yeah?”

but as soon as that door closes behind you he has you pressed against it, palms on either side of your head as kisses you deeply.

“been thinking about you all night, sweetheart.” he groans, lips trailing over your jaw as you tug him closer by the collar of his coveralls.

“was half tempted to sneak in through your bedroom window like some horny teenager.” he laughs softly, reveling in the soft mewls that leave your lips.

“who’s to say i would’ve let you in?” you tease, earning you a small nip on your collarbone.

“you wouldn’t, huh?” he taunts, rough hands sliding up your thigh to the hem of your dress.

your breath catches in your throat as he hooks one of your legs up on his hip, and then his lips are back on yours. he smells like sweat and grease but something so distinctly eddie that it makes your head swim.

but a sudden knock on the glass window to your left has you pulling apart, heart thumping as eddie all but groans in annoyance.

“munson, got another car waiting out front. wrap it up.”

you’re thankful then that the blinds— while bent from frequent use, are shut. no need to give his coworkers a free show.

“be right out mr. sinclair,” eddie calls back, though his words are slightly muffled as he presses them to your throat.

another giggle spills past you as you tip his chin up, his brown eyes smoldering as they meet your own.

“you do this to with all your paying customers?” you say with mock offense.

eddie just rolls his eyes as steps back from you, but not before pressing one last searing kiss to your pouted lips.

“you didn’t think i was actually gonna charge you for that, right?”

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson au #brothers best friend!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie munson #[ the munson files ]#[ series: it’s a recipe for disaster ]

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imaginesmai · 11 months ago

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Your name on my body - modern!Azriel

Beautiful and amazing @thehighladywrites posted this INCREDIBLE idea and I had to try it. I've never written a modern!acotar AU, a college!acotar AU or nerdy-tattooed!Azriel. I haven't written bimbo!reader, and since English is not my first language, I don't know if I have done it right. I enjoyed this sooooo much, let me know if you want more or have some requests!

Extra points for whoever gets the crescent city saga reference!

Plot: nerd-tattooed!Azriel gets a tattoo with your name and it leads to smutty time.

Warnings: porn and porn and Azriel being freaky and porn with just an inch of plot. This is dirty.

The door of the apartment closed behind your back and you were met with an empty living room. You usually didn’t come in unannounced, because Azriel’s shared apartment always had some type of surprise. But your boyfriend had asked you to do so, and to use the spare key he had given you a while ago.

Azriel had been studying for his finals for weeks, and had finally finished them. Instead of going out to celebrate like you had, he had stayed in with his friends. You hadn’t seen each other too much, apart from the long hours in the library where he tried to help you with your exams – and you didn’t count those hours, since you did nothing more than stare at him.

The apartment, as expected, was trashed. There were beer bottles in the ground, suspicious stains in the carpet and a very naked Cassian sleeping in the couch. You had just barely gotten out of your hangover, and Azriel’s roommate was about to start his.

Through all the chaos, you were certain none of it belonged to Azriel. He liked to party, sure, but not hard and long as you. He preferred to stay quiet and observe, with a drink that lasted him the whole night. You were trying to remember if the heel that poked through the back of the couch was from your friend when you heard him coming.

“This way, princess”

His deep, morning voice made you turn around and stumble to his presence. Like a serpent caught in a sweet melody, you were always pulled towards him. Azriel was wearing a grey t-shirt and black shorts, that fit him like a globe. Dark glasses and disheveled hair. And lots of tattoos that you had traced previously with your fingers and tongue.

“Hey, handsome” you greeted him, not hiding your bright smile. “Got your text this morning. What were you doing up so early?”

“Hit the gym before breakfast. Not all of us are hangover”

“Tell that to the other half of the campus or your roommates. Rhysand spent the night with Feyre in the rooftop”

Your roommate hadn’t appeared last night, and you had found a very cryptic text that morning that led you to the rooftop – where both her and Rhysand were fast asleep with the bottle still uncorked.

As soon as you were within reach, Azriel pulled you closer by your waist and smashed his lips against yours. He tasted like coffee and mint, and erased any trace of drunkenness from last night. You tangled your manicured fingers between his locks, shamefully scratching the nape of his neck with your long nails.

They differed from Azriel’s bitten ones. Your short dress from his baggy clothes, and your dyed hair from his untamed ones. While you liked to shine in the public, to dress up and party, Azriel preferred to be quiet, thrift clothes and study. To the campus, you were the bimbo, and he was the nerd.

But you were his bimbo and he was your nerd.

“How was the party?” Azriel asked between kisses, his lips not staying for too long on yours.

“Good. Missed you” you almost whined when he pulled back too soon, and he chuckled.

“Missed you too. Did you have fun?”

You hummed as his hands lowered until they cupped the edge of your ass. The dress was short enough he could pull it up until anyone could see your panties, but neither of you cared. He had to lean down to do so, and you took advantage to deepen the kiss.

On the outside, Azriel might have looked like the shy, nerdy student, but he was freaky. You had been surprised when a hook-up with your assigned tutor turned out in the best night of your life, and there was nothing that could unhook you from him.

His hands were big enough to squeeze most of your ass, kneading it just like you loved it. Roughly, you were pushed into his body. Azriel was always semi-hard when you came to view, and you always took care of choosing the shortest and most provocative dress in his presence.

Few things were better than a good night out and a good morning fucking.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Can I take you to my room?”

“You don’t have to ask”

But he did, breaking away your heated kiss. Azriel pushed the bridge of his glasses up and gave you a crooked smile, offering you his hand. You gladly took it and let him guide you to his room. The farthest, the darkest, but also the neatest. Azriel spent a good part of his time in there, and you loved it. He had incorporated you slowly in it, from the spare clothes in his closet for you to the stupid crafts you did together when you were bored.

“And what did you do last night? Started studying for the next semester?” you teased him, and he gave you a sideway look.

“I could, but I was busy with Mor”

“What were you doing with Mor?”

Your frown was instant, as the jealousy that rose to your chest. Morrighan was his friend, and you respected that, but you knew he had liked her in the past. That the woman was gorgeous, brilliant and smart in ways you didn’t complement Azriel. You liked her enough to be kind and maybe envious, but the notice of her with Azriel left you with a sour taste in the mouth.

Azriel chuckled at the edge of your tone and didn’t answer. If anyone had reasons to be jealous, was him, yet he never was. You had quite the reputation in college, and dressed to impress. More than once, you had been walking with Azriel and received not so subtle glances. You had even gotten the barista’s number when you asked for his order. And through all of that, Azriel had just shrugged and told you he trusted you.

So, for his sake, you tried to do the same.

During the longest seconds in your life, you were quiet. You sat on his bed and crossed your arms across your chest. Azriel closed the door behind him, just as you heard the first groan from his roommate, and turned around so he could face you.

The height difference, the size difference, warmed you in every place of your body. Azriel loved the gym just as he loved his books, and there was not a part of his body that he didn’t work. You liked the difference, liked his big form and how it towered over you even standing. As you sat in silence, you bit the inside of your cheek to control yourself.

“We went to the tattoo parlor, since she knows the owner. I wanted something done” he watched your frown with diversion, and continued when you said nothing. “So, you can be jealous of her, who has a girlfriend now, but I’m supposed to be fine with guys drooling over you last night?”

“I didn’t look at them”

“I didn’t look at her” he answered back, and took off his tee.

The sleeveless piece of cloth didn’t hide much, but you still lost your breath when it hit the ground. His muscled, tattooed chest came to view, and that was enough to make you get up. It wasn’t Mor’s lips that had left marks two nights ago on his left shoulder, or who had bitten his pierced nipple until he had come into his pants in the library’s bathroom.

It was you who had caused the tent in his pant, that caused his eyes to darken when you stepped closer. You placed your hand over his right thigh, the muscles tightening underneath. His boner hit your stomach and you pushed yourself against it, opening your mouth to apologize, or maybe to suck the life out of him.

“Don’t you want to know what I got?” he asked, sounding on edge.

“I don’t understand half of your tattoos. Whatever you got is hot and perfect, just like you”

“Look down, princess” Azriel groaned when your nail touched his dick.

“On my knees?”

You were ready to do so, or let him bend you over the table. He could do with your body as he pleased, but you were caught off guard when you noticed the reddish, new ink wrapped in invisible paper. It looked delicate against the rest of his tattoos, new and beautiful. Right between his hips, where the dark trail of dark hair had just been removed, was a new tattoo.

In his v-line, that you licked and adored and stared at so much. With the nickname he had gifted you since he met you and the stupid, childless heart you drew on every notebook of his.

Princess ♡

Your breath came out shaky as you traced the letters with your finger. If it wasn’t for the make-up, you had so carefully put on that morning with a killing headache, you would have burst into tears. His own hand covered yours and helped you trace the missing letters, and the heart.

It should have been distracting to look at it while his dick demanded your attention inches lower, but you couldn’t look away. Not when you felt a hard clench on your heart that left you lightheaded.

“Do you like it?” it was a whisper in the dark room, a spark of doubt that made you look up.

How could you not like it, not like anything about such a perfect man? You nodded enthusiastically, your other hand searching blindly for his.

“Why did you get that?”

“Because I love you, and I want to carry you with me always” Azriel’s eyes were kind, and soft, and loving – and they were making you dizzy with desire.

“Did it hurt too much?” you asked, looking down again at the tattoo. You, who had smooth and unmarked skin, couldn’t phantom the pain of a nursing needle to draw blood. “It must have”

“Worth every second. Lay in bed, princess. I need to be between your legs”

He didn’t let you take the initiative and threw you on his bed with a quick move. Azriel towered over you for a second before kneeling between your already open, wide legs, and leaving his glasses on the. He smirked with no doubts as he pulled the hem of your dress over your panties. His fingers were rough, pressing hard enough to leave red marks on its way.

You only bit your lower lip when he rose your dress to your waist and sneaked his hand beneath, the edge of his fingers pressing over your breasts.

With the idea of that outcome, you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and his eyes darkened even more at the discovery. You watched his throat work around the new information as he rose his body higher, now covering your breasts with his hands. He squeezed them, keeping them trapped in his palms as he lowered where you needed him.

“I’m gonna erase all those looks from last night” he promised, hands retreating following your curved. “Whose got you this wet, hm?”

“Azzie, don’t be mean”

Azriel was in your hands the moment his nickname fell from your lips, and at your mercy when you used that whiney, flirty tone. He didn’t even bother taking off your panties – he tore them off. Like a sheet of paper, like a piece of cake. You moaned his name, and it came out like a yelp when he dug in without reservations.

His tongue was feral as he licked a long stripe between your entrance to your clit. He pressed it against your clit and actually trapped it between his teeth for a moment. The barrier between pain and pleasure was hard to tell when he snuck his hands under your ass and lifted you a few inches for him to devour.

“Love this so much” you spoke with a content smile, as he massaged your ass in silent appreciation. “Love you”

One of your hands reached to his hair, pushing his face closer to your center. He agreed and pushed one finger inside you. Your mind emptied when he began pumping it in and out, curling it just in the right spot before pulling out and replacing it with his tongue.

Cassian pounded on the wall and yelled at you to be quiet, and Azriel pounded back harder as a fuck you response. You didn’t have it in you to care about him as Azriel pulled you closer by the ass, your legs laying boneless against his wide back.

His nose brushed your clit, up and down, and you weren’t sure he could breathe from how passionate and hard he was eating you out. You called his name wordlessly, your mouth emitting only broken noises.

“So good for me, princess. My beautiful princess” his voice was guttural, so primal it made you lock his head between your legs. “Give me one, come on. Give me the first one so I can wreck you from behind”

“That sounds clinically dangerous!”

Azriel growled against your clit and parted your folds with his chin. He ran his lips through all of them, and by the time he pushed his finger back in, you were cumming on his face and screaming so loud his name you could have woken up the rest of the campus. He caressed your lower regions as you came down from your high, accompanying your orgasm with lazy, long stripes through your folds.

When Azriel came back up, his chin and mouth bright from your juices and his hair sticking in every direction, you were already ready for round two. He didn’t need to be told, and he rose leaving a trail of bites up your body.

He briefly stopped to leave two twin marks between your breasts, so round and perfect and purple you were squirming under him again.

“Azzie” it had been the only word you were capable of saying, and your mind cleared down for a second

“Was that good? Worthy princess treatment after a night out?” Azriel asked, leaving wet kisses on your neck.

“Perfect”

You hugged his back as he pulled himself above you, and your nails left angry, red marks across his lower waist. You pulled the band of his sport shorts and underwear down, and squeezed his hard ass just like he had been doing to yours. His dick sprung free with little effort, and he rubbed himself against your side as you caught your breath.

It wasn’t a one-time thing with Azriel, and you heard Cassian muttering about calling 911 before turning on the music. It took Azriel at least three of your orgasm to be content, and he could cum another three before he let you go. He always stopped, for your sake, when your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore and you had tears ruining your perfect make-up.

Few things turned him more on than being the cause of that ruined make-up.

Before he could empty your mind again, you quickly brought up the only coherent thought that kept pounding your head.

“I want your name too. On me”

“A tattoo?” he raised a brow.

Azriel didn’t stop rubbing himself slowly but tightly against your thigh. His hand was over your sore cunt, in a possessive manor he only showed inside the bedroom. At your petition, he pressed his finger tighter.

“Here. Between my breasts, with your name” you quickly explained. “I want Azzie between my breasts, so each time someone looks at me, he knows these are yours”

“You are mine”

None of your relationships had lasted as long or had been as deep. You were the type of girl who would have his ex-name tattooed, but truth was you were wary of tattoos, and Azriel knew that. He had tried to get you into a simple one, something he could draw for you and hold your hand through it.

His body was a map of ink and drawings, some of them goofy and some of them deep. He liked your innocent, smooth skin, but he found himself breathing harder at the thought of his name on your chest. Thinking of how many kisses, how many marks he would leave there every given moment.

Azriel recalled not a month ago pulling down your cleavage between classes to kiss your nipples sore, the hand he always sneaked to unclasp your bra and touch you beneath the lace. His name, the nickname that brought him to his knees, decorating that skin.

“Are you sure?” he didn’t want to get his hopes up, not when he was ready to tattoo you himself right then and there. With Cassian playing loud classical music in the next room.

“And a crown drawn by you on the top” you rose a teasing eyebrow at his lack of movement, given the discussion for finished. “Are you going to wreck me from behind or do I have to ask Cassian for help?”

Azriel broke into a loud laugh before smacking your cunt loudly, then manhandling you around. With his left arm holding you by your waist, he pressed himself against your back. His dick brushed all the right spots between your bodies, but your hands were trapped under you and you couldn’t touch him.

Complaining would only make him take out those beautiful handcuffs you knew he owned so you only bit your lip and whined like the good girl you were for him.

“I’m gonna tattoo my name between your breasts, if that’s what you want” he whispered against your ear, his other hand appearing around your throat. “I love you so much, princess. So fucking much”

Azriel squeezed your throat at the same time he entered you with a rough, only thrust. It avoided the moan that died in your chest, that had you rolling back your eyes in pleasure. It didn’t stop Azriel from moaning your name out loud, loud enough for Cassian to turn up the stupid music.

The headboard banged against the wall and his glasses fell to the ground, as he left you no room to breathe, to recover. Maybe he had managed to shut you down, but he was doing nothing about his own sounds. You were vaguely aware of Cassian slamming the door of the apartment after screaming some profanities, but you didn’t acknowledge him.

Not when Azriel seemed to be trying to tattoo his name deep into your body and soul.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes

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coralinnii · 1 year ago

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Congrats on 2.7k! The villain(ess) saga is my bread and butter hehe.

Anyways Id like to request borderline desperate Jamil trying to figure out Readers fav food as they can and will literally eat anything without complaint(even Lilia's cooking lol). Thank you 💖

‧₊˚✧A Dash of Sweetness ‧₊˚✧

↳ Reader S/O who eats anything

feat: Jamil genre: fluff (like shojou manga level sweetness) note: no pronouns used with the reader, idiots in love, kinda oblivious!reader, roughly 1k words,

Random storytime, my big bro once got hungry and cooked himself eggs while the rest of us were out, and no one told him the eggs went bad. He was absolutely fine the entire day and none of us would have known if not for my bro saying it’s weird that the egg he ate was green. Yet, he said the french toasts I made once were bland T_T

Anyway, this took a while because I honestly didn't know how this story will end up, hopefully you enjoy it ^_^

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Jamil can deny all day and night, but he really likes to see you enjoy his cooking. For all the times he told you that he already has his hands full with Kalim, there was suspiciously always a warm lunchbox filled with aromatic meals made by yours truly. All for that bright smile of yours whenever you would finish off the “leftover” meal that Jamil would generously share with you.

When Jamil realized that others have fed you, his hidden competitive nature rose. While there were many competent students with skills in the kitchen, within Jamil was a desire to see a special shine in your eyes when he cooks your favorite dish, a visual only for him.

But be it due to pride or embarrassment, Jamil doesn’t seem to be the type to be upfront with his intentions, nor does he take the straightforward tactic. Instead of asking you directly, he would ease his way through conversations with your friends just to find out your most favored dish per chance. But that turned out that that was harder than he expected.

Day after day, Jamil would hand you a new type of dish and watch your reaction for the slightest hint of preference. Perhaps a raise of your eyebrows, a slower time to take in the taste, anything. He's racking his brain and looked for every sort of dish and recipes from all parts of Twisted Wonderland for the slight chance he comes across a dish to your absolute liking. But each time, you simply smiled graciously and thanked him for sharing with you, not that he disliked it since he did get to spend more time with you through all of this.

But each attempt makes him all the more impatient, and curious. If you looked this beautiful just eating something good, Jamil wondered how you’d look if he served you your most favored dish? Would he see your eyes light up with joy, your body shaking with excitement, your cheeks so cutely puffy and full with every bite, maybe even bring him into a spontaneous embrace filled with so much gratitude, perhaps even a kiss…

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” Jamil hid his face in embarrassment, but the burning ears and racing heart revealed how much he wanted to see that side of you.

You found it odd how often it’s been that Jamil was offering you leftover food this past week. You’re certainly not complaining but it’s always something new everyday. Sometimes Jamil would hand you a meal mixed with aromatic spices, other times an array of sugary sweet treats and pastries. It could be a simple stew that warms your soul one day, or it could be a unique cuisine with a variety of paired side dishes.

But every day, you would notice that he would glance your way occasionally as you partake in this gracious meal, and it’s making you a bit antsy.

“You’ve been watching me for a while.” Your voice seemed to break whatever concentration the Scarabia student had. “Is there something you’re expecting me to say?”

Like a deer in headlights, Jamil flinched and felt a small wave of embarrassment when he realized he was caught watching you. He was sure that he was being discrete, but he supposed that as days went on he had gotten a tad bit restless and hasty. He got sloppy, he cursed to himself.

Quickly shaking his nerves away, he replied with a smile to ease you. “I’m simply glad the food is to your taste.”

You were hardly convinced by that. Was he experimenting with dishes, you wondered. You tried to offer some insights and compliments which seemed to satisfy the long-haired upperclassman, but you felt a sneaky suspicion that he was hoping for something else.

“Jamil, I’m really happy that you’ve been sharing all this food with me.” You said as you settled the lunchbox to your side. “But I don’t think I’m the best person if you're looking for a detailed review on food.”

Ah yes, Jamil was aware of your generous palate. While trying to discreetly find your preferences, Jamil first assumed you had a sweet tooth when you praised the Heartslabyul vice-housewarden for his sweets. But then, Jamil overheard you enjoying your visits to Mostro Lounge so perhaps you had a pension for seafood…Then, he was thrown for a loop when he heard from a giddy Lilia that he was delighted to see you have such a rigorous appetite, having tried and finished the beef-seafood-fruit stew he made for his dormmates.

You...were not picky, to say the least.

You felt a pang of shame for your lack of refined judgment in cuisine. “Your food is really good. Sorry, I don't know what else I can say about it that is helpful to you.”

That’s it. Jamil saw an opening. “Perhaps, I could make your favorite food,” his voice sounded as though it was a spontaneous thought. “Then it would be something you can speak more on a personal level.”

All other attempts to learn your food preferences failed in the past, but now there was an opportunity to learn firsthand from the source. It wasn’t strange, was it? It was simply the flow of the conversation, and all the long-haired upperclassman did was offer an option. What an auspicious break for Jamil.

But when Jamil looked to you to gauge your reaction, you surprised him.

You stared at him, eyes wide with shock. Your lips quivered and shook, as though your body was nervously processing his words, which deeply worried Jamil. Has he somehow offended you? How?!

Finally, you spoke. “You would make something…just for me?”

“Yes, if that’s something alright with you?”

All this time, you were under the impression that Jamil was offering you food that couldn’t be finished, and you were content with taking whatever was offered, happy that the vice-housewarden thought of you in some way. But having Jamil make something homemade purposely with you in mind… to think of you as he makes the effort to do something, hoping you will enjoy it. A sweet gesture made for you, and you alone.

Feelings of butterflies filled you as your cheeks felt hot at such thoughts. You felt your lips quiver as a goofy smile crept its way onto your face, but you tried to hide your giddiness behind your fingers.

You thought for a bit, then softly you replied. “Curry would be nice.”

Hmm? Jamil was surprised. That’s his favorite…

“Then, we can eat together.” You smiled nervously. “I think sharing with someone you like makes food taste better.”

Such a lovely sight of two shy fools. One was grinning oddly while the other was hiding his shamefully burning face behind his hood.

#this was a toughie #I had no idea where this was gonna take me #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #jamil viper #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #2.7k followers event

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