#i adore kitchens with colourful counters

[wildwestdean]

sweet and sour

summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

word count: 3.2k+

warnings: some (mainly) ooc ben, swearing, depictions of alcohol consumption, drunk reader, angst, mentions of drug use, allusions to past sexual behaviours, fluff, hurt/comfort, nicknames/pet names

a/n: okay so i haven't actually made it to soldier boy's appearance in the boys yet, but i had a burning desire to write for him anyway. so yeah just don't judge pls lol

“What the fuck are you doing?” boomed a voice from behind you. 

You jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but turned with a grin upon recognizing whose voice it was. 

“Ben!” you giggled, meeting his confused gaze with bright eyes as you slightly swayed on your feet. “What’re you doing?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to fight off the smirk forming on his lips as he ignored your question. “Looks like you had a good time out, huh, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the term of endearment, or the string of giggles that left your lips. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but it never failed to make you giddy - especially now. “I did!” you announced, before a frown suddenly took over your face as you remembered why you were in the kitchen “But now I want another drink, and I can’t find anythin’.” 

Ben just stared at you for a moment, taking in your rosey cheeks and glossy eyes; but most importantly, the frown that currently adorned your adorable face. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than for that frown to disappear. 

“Alright,” he sighed, heading over to you. “What do you want?” 

You watched as he approached, taking in his more casual appearance of a t-shirt and sweats - and, you noticed with a shy grin, a pair of old man slippers. He came to a stop just before you, and you paused as you stared up at his stoic face while he towered over you. You didn’t even hear his question, too distracted by his overwhelming everything to even realize he asked something. 

He softly called your name to rouse you from your stupor, repeating it a little more gruffly when it didn’t work the first time. “What?” you asked, blinking up at his annoyed yet smirking face. 

“I asked you what you wanted,” he murmured. 

“Oh,” you said, your face scrunching together as you thought about it for a few moments. “I dunno,” you determined with a shrug. 

“And you expect me to find something for you?” he asked curtly, his brows rising in disbelief.  

Your brow unfurrowed as you grinned up at him. “Yes, please!” you declared eagerly, oblivious to the fact that he did not want to cater to you. 

He clenched his jaw, extremely irritated with his urge to smile at the sight of your cheesy grin. “Fucking-” he started, before he cut himself off with a long sigh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine. Just go sit down or something.”  

“Why?” you asked sadly, the frown taking over your face again. 

“Why?” he echoed incredulously. “When I came in, you were trying to find a drink while just staring at the fucking glassware for over a minute. That’s why.”

“Were you watchin’ me?” you asked smugly, smirking up at him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean I can’t help find a drink!” you argued, completely missing his point. 

His blank expression faltered for a second, a flash of colour fleeting across his face so quick it may as well have never been there. Then he simply barked a laugh, which only deepened your frown. “I bet you wish I was, huh? And you know, that's actually exactly what it means, dollface,” he chuckled darkly, tracing his knuckles along your cheek before suddenly grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. “So sit this one out,” he said, ignoring your shriek of shock and protest. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, completely bewildered by the ease in which he manoeuvred you; as if it cost him zero effort. Which, of course, you knew to be true. 

“Good,” he said, smiling in satisfaction before ghosting a kiss against your forehead. “Now don’t fuckin’ fall off,” he warned as he walked over to the coffee machine. 

You watched him in confusion, your swirling brain trying to figure out why he was suddenly so much more affectionate with you. You were used to him teasing you, or returning your flirtations and banter, though this felt like more than that. Maybe he was just being extra nice since you were drunk. Or maybe you only thought he was being extra nice because, well, you were drunk. 

“Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, glancing over at you. “Why are you so frowny? I thought you liked your stupid girls’ night thing,” he added, leaning against the island with his arms crossed. 

“I do like my girls' nights! And I’m not frowny” you grumbled, almost offended he would suggest otherwise. 

“No?” he challenged, arching a brow as he took a few steps towards you. “‘Cause last I checked, this wasn’t your pretty smile,” he teased, tracing a thumb against your persistently downturned lips. Your smile naturally grew at that, and he beamed in response. “There’s my girl.” 

Your eyes widened at his words, and your reaction must have made Ben realize what he was doing. With slightly widened eyes of his own, he dropped his hand from your face as if burned and turned away from you once more, busying himself with making your coffee - exactly the way you liked it. 

You watched in silence, your feet softly swaying against the lower cabinets as your mind drifted in and out. “You don’t have any company tonight?” you found yourself asking suddenly.

“Think I’d be in here doing this if I had fucking company?” he asked hotly. “And I’m pretty sure you know when the last time I had company was,” he added bitterly. 

Through all the months of you living with Ben, you had noticed when his parade of bed warmers had started to dwindle down; and you had definitely noticed when it stopped altogether. Part of you likes to wish you had something to do with it, while the other part knew that was insane.

“Okay, grouchy,” you scolded with a chuckle. “Don’t act like it’s my fault.” 

“When the fuck did I act like it was your fault?” he snapped, growing exasperated. 

“Are you almost done?” you asked brazenly, ignoring his question. “I’m thirsty.”

“Coming right up, princess,” he sneered. 

You knew it was meant in a derogatory way based on his tone, yet you couldn’t help the warm tingle that spread through you anyway. 

“Here,” he grunted after a few minutes, nearly shoving the mug at you. He raised his eyebrows impatiently when all you did was stare down at it. “I better not have made this for nothing,” he warned. 

You gingerly took it from his hands, staring at it as if it was a foreign object; because, with a fluttering heart, you realized that he gave you your favourite mug - though you knew it was probably just a coincidence. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, grinning softly at him before taking a sip. 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he hastily turned his back on you once more. 

“You seem extra grumpy tonight,” you pointed out, watching him intently as you happily sipped away. 

“Who fucking cares?” he grumbled, keeping his attention off you as he made himself a drink - a strong one. He had a sinking feeling that if he looked at you he’d feel all warm inside again, and he refused to let that happen. “Besides. Maybe me being extra grumpy has to do with the drunk girl currently sitting on my counter.” 

“Oh,” you said meekly. “I’m bothering you?”

“You always fucking bother me,” he mumbled, slamming the bottle down. 

“I don’t mean to,” you assured quietly, your vision growing blurry with unshed tears. “I thought we’ve been getting along,” you added sadly. 

“Me putting up with you isn’t us getting along, dollface,” he sneered. 

You inhaled sharply at his declaration, your tears finally breaking loose and running down your face. “I can just leave you alone, then,” you offered, your voice a mere whisper. 

Ben made the mistake of glancing over at you, and the pang of guilt he felt inside his chest really pissed him off. He begrudgingly made his way over to you, standing between your swaying legs as he tried to meet your gaze - but you refused to acknowledge his presence. 

“Look at me,” he ordered, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze on him. 

“No,” you said, closing your eyes. 

He let out an honest chuckle at your stubbornness, and if you had been able to see him, you would’ve noticed his eyes sparkle with affection. “Look at me,” he said again, much softer this time as his thumbs wiped away your tears. 

You let out a resigned breath, slowly looking up at him. 

“There she is,” he cooed, a small smile growing on his face. “Hey, darlin’.” 

“Hi,” you replied solemnly, your face scrunching ever so slightly in confusion over the interaction.

He didn’t speak for a while. Instead he just stood there, staring at you with your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell to say next. 

“Look, just- stop crying, alright?” he said awkwardly, almost nervously. 

“Is that your idea of being comforting?” you asked dejectedly, almost laughing in disbelief. 

His grip on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, before loosening again. “You and I both know that offering comfort isn’t my thing.” 

“You could at least try,” you muttered snidely. “I’m tired of being the only one of us who tries.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped, letting you go and taking a step back in order to glare at you. 

You scoffed, frustratingly swiping away angry tears that began to stream down your face. “It doesn’t matter.” 

A heavy silence blanketed the two of you, and you picked up your mug to idly sip at it once more as he stared you down. He suddenly let out a frustrated huff, swearing and muttering under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed his glass. With disbelieving eyes, you watched as he left the kitchen without a second glance. You weren’t a stranger to arguments with Ben, but this time, it felt different.

You stayed where you were perched, silently finishing your coffee and trying to make sense of everything that happened. You worked yourself back up into another frenzy as you thought everything over, and by the time your mug was empty you slammed it onto the counter with so much force you were surprised it didn’t break. Hopping off the counter, you began to stumble your way to your bedroom while angrily grumbling to yourself. A new inferno was set alight within you when along the way you came across Ben, nonchalantly lounging in the den as if nothing ever even happened. 

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that inside?” you snapped, watching in growing contemptment as he merely glanced in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere, smoke billowing over his face.  

“Tell you what, princess,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the joint he held. “I’ll stop smokin’ inside, as soon as you start payin’ for this fucking place.”

Without so much as giving it a second thought, you marched over to him and ripped the joint from his hands. He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with curiosity, a smirk already forming on his lips.

“I said,” you seethed, grabbing the ashtray from the side table as you stared him down. “Stop.”

He stayed silent, watching as you crushed the joint in the tray before tossing it back on the table with a clang. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back an amused grin before he steeled himself. 

“I’ll go ahead and give you ten seconds to leave,” he announced calmly, though you knew him well enough by now to notice the hint of warning in his tone. 

“Or what?” you challenged, stubbornly crossing your arms. 

Normally, you knew when to stop trying to push his buttons, but you had just enough alcohol still coursing through you to keep on going this time. 

He leaned forward, his presence completely imposing despite the fact he was sitting and you were standing over him. “Do you really want to find out?”

You shifted nervously as you took in his expression, and you knew he was both pissed off and annoyed; then again, it was rare that he wasn’t. 

“Whatever,” you finally muttered, turning away to leave. 

It wasn’t due to you being afraid of him - yes, he was intimidating as all hell, but he had never once actually physically hurt you. Despite the many times the urge struck him, and no matter how much he despised it, he quickly learned that you’re the one person he could never lay a harmful hand on. No, you simply left because you were growing exhausted over this whole night, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. 

“Thought so,” he grumbled behind your back, snickering as you momentarily stopped in your tracks. 

“Oh, just go to hell, Benjamin!” you exclaimed, whipping the closest thing you could grab towards his head. 

He caught it easily, laughing heartily when he realized what it was. “Thanks, doll. This is just what I needed,” he teased with a grin, rattling the pill bottle as he held it in the air for you to see. “It’s the only way I can fuckin’ put up with you.”

You stared at him carefully, and you could tell just by the look in his eyes that he only said it to get another rise out of you, but you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip trembled as you fought back more tears. 

His face instantly fell as he noticed your reaction, and while it was his intention, he instantly regretted it. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the bottle aside and stood up. 

“What are you-” you began to ask as he made his way over to you, but he cut you off. 

“Just shut up for once,” he muttered, a trace of a lighthearted chuckle in his voice as he shook his head. 

You opened your mouth to fire off more insults when he shocked all the words out of your vocabulary by wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and even though you felt insurmountable anger towards him, you quickly found yourself melting into his touch, your arms tightening around his torso. A few moments passed by before he let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern along your back; a gentleness neither of you knew he was even capable of. 

“Look, I-... I didn’t… mean it,” he finally said. His tone was tight and awkward, and you knew it was a near impossible thing for him to actually admit. Honestly, hearing those words from him was nothing short of a miracle. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, knowing this was the closest you would ever get to an apology from him. 

“How about we get you to bed, huh?” he asked lightly, trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Yeah,” you said, pulling away from him. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

You quickly left before he could respond, making it to your bedroom and locking yourself away in the bathroom to get ready. You took your time, carefully scrubbing away all the traces of the club, and the rest of the night, that you could before slipping into your night clothes. 

The first thing your bleary eyes noticed when you reentered your bedroom was Ben, paused in the middle of your room with a glass of water in his hand. 

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, rubbing at your tired eyes. 

He let out a heavy exhale, looking at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Was just… bringing this to leave for you."

“Thanks,” you replied awkwardly, meeting him halfway to take the glass from him.

He stared at you for a moment, watching as you made your way to the bed and under the covers. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what. 

“I’ve been trying, you know,” he suddenly grumbled, unable to take the tense silence any longer. 

“What?” you wondered aloud, glancing over at him. 

His face was scrunched in concentration as he stared at something straight ahead, unable to bring himself to meet your gaze. “With you. To be… I don’t know… better.”

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a little guilty for making him think you never noticed. “I know that,” you admitted softly. 

“I don’t think you do,” he quipped, his voice more aggressive than he meant it to be. “You bother me all the fucking time.” 

“You know-” you began to argue, anger starting to simmer deep within your bones again. 

“Stop,” he all but growled, holding up a hand. “Just fucking listen for once.”

You glowered at him, folding your arms as you sank further under the covers, as if seeking some kind of protection, while waiting for him to continue. 

It took him a while to speak up again, and you almost thought he’d never continue, but he hesitantly explained himself. “You bother me… because you make me different.” 

“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, chuckling humourlessly. “I’m a dick. I don’t care that I’m a dick. But you- I’m around you, and I want to be less…” he trailed off with a sigh, unsure of how to go on. 

“Less dickish?” you offered, fighting off a smile. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You hummed thoughtfully, thinking over your response. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly send me running for the hills, Ben.”

“I know that,” he said passively. “I just… I don’t know. Don’t think that I don’t try.”

He finally turned to look at you, and you could see the pleading in his eyes; the hurt. You sighed in defeat, sitting up and gesturing for him to take up the space beside you. He hesitated, raising a brow in contemplation before making his way over. You peeled back the covers for him, and he carefully slid in; cautious, as though he thought it was a trap. 

Neither of you were sure what to do next, and after a few minutes of awkward silence, you laid down to settle in for some sleep. Ben followed suit, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close; you instinctively nestled against him, relishing in the warmth he provided.  

“I hope you don’t think I’m drunk enough to forget that you were actually sweet tonight,” you said suddenly, your voice a playful whisper. 

He let out a chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek and forcing a small giggle from you. 

“Just don’t expect it all the time,” he declared, a playful undertone in his voice as well. “I’m mostly sour.” 

Though despite his declaration, his grip tightened to pull you in a little closer. 

“Well,” you said, closing your eyes and relaxing against him. “Sweet and sour does happen to be my favourite combination.” 

“And thank Christ for that,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. 

You smiled to yourself, hearing his words despite them sounding far away. You had a fleeting intent to respond, but your mind grew too heavy, and you quickly fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head - though, not before you felt him placing a lingering kiss to your hairline, paired with a murmured goodnight, sweetheart.

tagging: @roseblue373

[the-flaneur]

matchmaker pets (cl16) | pt2

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: in a world where one's furry best friend is secretly their cupid, the drivers' love lives are sure to be entertaining for everyone (written from the pov of the pets!)

warnings: none (i think)

wc: 1194

[masterlist] [requests]

energetic!leo who charles adopts in early 2024 after seeing the constantly adorable pictures of alex’s rambunctious zoo of pets, and roscoe, king of paddock 

surely, with lewis joining ferrari next year, it wouldn’t hurt to also have a star pet of his own?

energetic!leo who’s a feisty little dachshund puppy, and not one to shy away from the glitz’y and glamor’y of his father’s worldwide job

energetic!leo who’s also secretly a puppy cupid-in-training, having been trained since birth’y to eventually find a true love’y match for his one and only owner

energetic cupid!leo who loves prancing around the paddock’y, but he hates’y the very tight leash held by his father’y or someone else from his team

energetic cupid!leo who eventually plasters a grumpy frown’y on his face; his dad thinks he’s a bit too much to handle at the paddock’y (he’s really not), but too young to leave’y at home. 

unfortunately, this means that his father eventually leaves him under the supervision of a young’y ferrari intern at the motorhome.

energetic cupid!leo who (with some advice from roscoe’y), quickly figures out the best hiding spots (of course in the ferrari motorhome’y) and asks for the help of the other pets’y to sneak himself out of supervision. 

energetic cupid!leo who eventually wanders off to the ferrari cafeteria, led by the delicious’y aroma, hopefully finding’y some snacks (made just’y for him!)

energetic cupid!leo who wanders’y towards the table with the tall dishes stacked high on the counter top’y and tries to jumping’y onto one of the stools in order to reach the food…

however, when he’s falling backwards’y, he thinks that his jumping is a tad bit too energetic, and is now rocketing’y himself straight into the path of a poor ferrari chef.

that poor ferrari chef is you…

the imola gp is your first official time at the motorhome, often preparing dishes off site before sending them off to the track.

you definitely did not expect to see a bright golden ball hurtling straight towards your legs within the first hour of your job, and you yelp in surprise, unfortunately tossing up the plates of macrons in your hands to avoid the young dog.

your yelp of surprise doesn’t help leo either, who yips loudly, before running between your legs again.

clumsy cupid!leo who is a bit sorry that he’s accidentally knocked’y over such a pretty girl, but is still quickly distracted’y by the brightly coloured circles’y on the ground.

clumsy cupid!leo who quickly spots’y his father rushing in the direction of the pretty girl’y and tries to hide in behind your body.

clumsy cupid!leo who sees’y his father apologise a lot to you (he almost looks’y likes he’s going to beg on his knees) and decides there and then that you need to be with his father. 

why?

already from one small little nibble’y, he can tell that you makes’y the best treats and even hid him from his sometimes mean’y father.

was it brash’y, bold and maybe even a bit stupid’y on his part? yes. 

did he care? no.

it’s literally his job. 

menace cupid!leo who goes back’y to his little dog house (it’s literally a house and as lavish as you would think it is), and starts scheming a plan’y to get you and his dad together.

menace cupid!leo who decides that the best course of action would be to steal his father’s belongings and then hide them in the kitchen, so he has to go and see you.

it’s the perfect plan!

menace cupid!leo who slowly begins taking things’y from his dad: his necklaces, his rings, his keys, his caps, his shoes, his underwear…

menace cupid!leo who hides them around’y the ferrari motorhome kitchen. it’’s in the cupboards, the cabinets under the sink’y, in the utensil holders, in the freezer…

menace cupid!leo who after each little “adventure” happily finds his way back to his father’s driver room, eagerly awaiting his father’s innocent greeting.

who after a few races, is still yet to suspect a thing.

you, on the other hand, are now the victim of a resident hoarder. It’s not too obvious whose work it is, but you definitely have a few options in mind. granted they could be your co-workers and placing underwear is a bit of an odd choice, but you don’t question it. 

that is until at silverstone, you find a hairy little ball in the bin, one ear flopped protectively over its head.

sighing, you reach into the bin and pull out a slightly remorseful cupid!leo who does look happier to see you. he yips a few times, as you haphazardly brush the dust from his fur (thankfully it was still early in the morning, and the lack of rubbish definitely helped).

remorseful cupid!leo who anxiously watches you walk’y with him cradled in your arms towards his father’s motorhome’y. he’s not ready to see the disgruntled yet embarrassed look’y on his face…

remorseful cupid!leo who watches you harshly knock’y on his father’s driver room door, banging on it again when he doesn’t answer it after a half a minute. 

you lean the two of you against the door, and he can hear a faint singing from inside the room; his father must be listening to music, which is why he can’t hear you

remorseful cupid!leo who after you knock’y again loudly on the door, starts barking aggressively, whining, howling, and likes, just to get his father’s attention’y. 

you wince at the loud sounds, almost tempted to drop leo just to cover your ears, but you just hold him towards the door as you step away

remorseful cupid!leo who finally hears the sound’y of his father heading towards the door, but you’re still facing;y away, eyes shut from the piercing noises

scheming cupid!leo who barks loudly once more, when he sees his father open the door…

except he’s half naked; his toned abs and chest still slightly wet from the downpour earlier that morning. his pants, although loose and baggy, still accentuate the muscles developed over years of training.

you, however, are still oblivious to this sight, having still had leo thrusted out towards charles’ door

“everything ok y/n?” he calls out to you, and you whip your eyes open to face charles. except your eyes can’t help but fixate down at his chest,

then his abs,

then his v-cut

and then…

“eyes up sweetheart, can’t let you get too distracted yet,” he smirks, gently taking leo from your hands, before grabbing his phone out of his pocket. “you, me, 8pm tomorrow night? i would love to know about the woman who’s making leo steal things from me. maybe even my heart…” he grins, placing his phone in the palm of your hand.

mischievous!leo yips from below, as he watches you type in your phone’y number, before giving charles a quick kiss on the cheek…

“i wouldn't miss for the world. although charles…”

“yes…?”

“you might want to keep leo out of your underwear drawer; i’ve already become quite familiar with it,” 

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[izurou]

“say ‘i’m the man!’”

eren’s voice carries down the hall, boisterous and loud as it easily reaches every corner of your small one bedroom apartment.

you furrow your brows and glance in the general direction of the sound, but decide to ignore it and continue on with breakfast—gathering a dollop of strawberry jam on your knife before spreading it onto a piece of toast.

you’d rather not know what the two of them are up to, eren and your two year old son that is. he’s supposed to be getting the kid ready for the day, but whether or not that’s actually happening is a different story.

“i’m da man!” his little voice repeats the sentence—not quite as powerful as his dad, but still loud enough to find your ears.

“louder!” eren shouts, and you immediately drop what you’re doing to head towards them.

your slippers scuff against the floor as you shuffle down the hall, following the source of sound until it leads you just outside the bathroom door. you nudge it with your foot, causing it to creep open and reveal the duo—your son, who’s standing on the counter, and eren, who—at the very least, is holding onto him.

“hi,” eren grins, prompting his mini me to do the same. you note the atrocious man bun, well, little man bun your son is sporting—hair haphazardly pulled together at the back of his head.

eren gestures to him, pride flooding his features as he mumbles, “he’s the man.”

“oh yeah?” a smile tugs at your own lips—every ounce of authority you waltzed over here with threatening to vanish into thin air as you look at your little family. nevertheless, someone has to enforce the rules around here. “well, tell the man that if he doesn’t keep it down, he’s not getting any chocolate milk with his breakfast.”

the two of them exchange a glance, an identical look of concern—real and genuine from your son, dramatic and over the top from your fiancé.

“should we go eat?” eren whispers to him, naively expecting him to follow in his footsteps again.

“yeah!” your son yells, excitement filling his eyes at the mention of his all time favourite beverage. he sets a new record every time he chugs a glass, and always gets a kick out of the little moustache he gets afterwards—loving that he looks like dad.

“buddy,” eren laughs as he lightly cups a hand over the toddler’s mouth. “shhh, quiet okay? you heard the boss, no chocolate milk if you yell.”

your son puts his hand over his own mouth and nods his head, prompting eren to lift him onto the floor and send him scurrying off into the kitchen—little feet padding against the hardwood.

“what the hell?” you say, keeping your voice low to ensure your baby doesn’t hear. “it’s 8 o’clock in the morning, why are you shouting?”

“hey, i’m instilling confidence in him,” he pouts, having heard you mention something along those lines once or twice—about how important it is for him to be proud of who he is.

“eren,” you sigh, because you know he means well—he wants nothing but the absolute best for your son too, which is why he more or less lets him do as he pleases.

he encourages him to jump around and dance to his favourite songs, and doesn’t care that he gets marker all over his face when he colours. he’ll give him bear paws before dinner, and hold his hand as the two of them run and giggle down the halls of your apartment building, because they’re just so happy to come home and see you after a trip to the grocery store.

eren lets your kid be a kid, and while that might put a scowl on the face of those around you, all that matters is that your son is always smiling.

“i know, just,” you pause, searching for the right words—the ones that won’t paint you as the bad cop you feel you’re being. though, you look into eren’s eyes, and see nothing but the purest love and adoration overflowing from his pupils, and you know—he thinks you’re doing perfect. “just, wait until after ten at least, okay? that old couple next door already has us on their shit list.”

“course, ‘m sorry baby,” he hums—cupping your cheek with a grin that’s a little too smug and out of place to be there right now. “but you know, you got us on that list, not him.”

“me?” you tilt your head, racking your brain for a time in which you might’ve pissed them off. did you forget to hold the door open? shit.

“mhmm,” he hums, moving his hand to the back of your head to hold you flush against him, and you look adorable—in the reflection of the mirror, with your little thinking face on and your cheek squished against him. he almost feels guilty.

“what did i—”

“nghhh eren, that feels soooo good,” he moans, quiet and sultry—changing the pitch of his voice slightly in an attempt to mimic your own.

“eren!” you gasp, planting your palms flat on his chest to push him away. “shut up, you’re the only reason i sound like that.”

“damn right,” he grins, pulling you right back in for a messy kiss—hands sneaking underneath your shirt and travelling up your—

crash.

“oh no,” you mumble, peeling yourself away from him once more. your son—who’s been alone and suspiciously quiet for the last five minutes, is now doing god knows what in the kitchen. “go check on your satan spawn, would you?”

“hey,” he frowns, swiftly backing out of the room and towards the noise, but not without putting on a quick smile to clarify, “our satan spawn.”

you roll your eyes, but still feel the corners of your lips tug upwards. eren is far from perfect, but he’s pretty good at keeping a smile on your face too.

[theemporium]

[1.6k] in which a flower bouquet arrives at your door that certainly wasn't sent by your boyfriend. (based off this request)

series masterlist

.

In your defence, you had nothing to do with the prank. 

It had taken a while for Luke to come around to the idea of you and Quinn being together. He loved you both, wanted nothing more than two of his favourite people in the world to be happy. But it still took some time to get used to the shift in relationships considering almost a year ago the two of you barely spoke. 

But all things considered, he was doing much better than you expected—except for one thing. 

Luke had deemed it necessary that his brother proved himself worthy of dating his best friend. 

You thought he was joking. Quinn thought he was being dramatic. And Jack thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, meaning he totally enabled his younger brother into taking the whole thing seriously. 

You had expected Luke to give his oldest brother a shovel talk. Maybe threaten him a little. Maybe even whine about it a little longer, because honestly he got over that phase a lot quicker than you expected. 

You hadn’t expected a series of trials to be set up for your boyfriend.

It started off with random questions thrown at Quinn at the most unsuspecting times, ways for Luke to see if his older brother really knew you. He asked about your favourite colour, your favourite snacks, what you liked when you were sad and so many more simple questions that had Quinn rolling his eyes as he answered. 

Then, it escalated to throwing random scenarios. Like what Quinn would do if you were stranded and he was halfway across the country. Or what Quinn would do if you had been abducted by aliens and returned with no memory of him. Or what Quinn would do if you decided to become a diehard Leafs fan.

It was annoying for Quinn, but ultimately it was harmless. 

You hadn’t realised there was another test. You hadn’t realised you inspired it when you were on the phone with Luke a couple of weeks ago. 

It became a staple in your relationship for Quinn to send you a bouquet of flowers. It was his little way of showing he cared, of showing that distance wasn’t going to get in between him showing his love for you. It was sweet and it made your heart swoon and he fucking adored the way you always called him as soon as they arrived, sharing your reaction to his chosen bouquet each time.

So, in all honesty, it was no shock to you when a bouquet had been delivered to your door that morning. You hadn’t bothered to look for a note because you knew who it was from, you knew that Quinn would probably walk out of your room and see the flowers and throw some stupid, cheesy line at you that had your body flushing. 

“What the fuck?”

It never occurred to you that Quinn was never the one who sent them. 

He stumbled out of your room around thirty minutes after you initially woke up, his eyes still tired and bleary from sleep. He was dragging his feet along the floor as he walked, a pair of sweatpants halfheartedly thrown on as he went off to find you and try to drag you back to bed. After all, it wasn’t often he got the chance to visit you during the season. Spending that limited time together in bed sounded ideal to him. 

However, his body was wide fucking awake the second he walked into the kitchen and saw an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers sat on the counter.

You turned to look at him, your smile waning a little when you noticed his pissed off expression. “Jesus, I know you’re bad before coffee in the mornings but I’ve never seen you this grumpy.” 

Quinn ignored the jab, nodding towards the flowers. “Who sent you those?” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What? You did?”

Quinn frowned as he turned to look at you. “No, I didn’t. I chose tulips. Those aren’t tulips.” 

You shot him a blank look, very well aware the huge bouquet of red roses were not tulips. 

“Maybe you forgot what you chose,” you told him with a shrug, taking a step towards him so you could wind your arms around his waist. You felt him lean into the embrace, wrapping one arm around you as the other reached towards the flowers. “You can’t remember what you’ve chosen every single time.”

“I do,” Quinn said bluntly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course he remembered which flowers he sent you. The boy spent more time than he cared to admit choosing a bouquet, trying to imagine which ones you’d like the most. 

“Oh,” you murmured, but there was a cheesy grin making its way on your face as you placed a quick peck to his collarbone. “Petey was right, you’re such a sap.”

“I still don’t know how I feel about this newfound friendship between you and Petey,” Quinn grumbled when he noticed a note tucked between the stems of the flowers. He reached for it, a frown on his face as his eyes glanced over the note. “Who’s George?” 

You blinked, pulling your head back. “I don’t know a George.” 

Quinn’s expression darkened. “Well, some creep called George knows you and is now sending you flowers.” 

“What?” You grumbled as you reached for the note.

pretty flowers for a pretty girl  –george xx

You blinked. “What the fuck?”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed at the bouquet of flowers, his arm tightening around you like he was proving a point. “They are a terrible set of roses anyways. Red is so tacky. What the fuck does George think it is, Valentine’s Day? He has shitty taste.” 

“I—” You turned to your boyfriend. “Some random guy has my address and is sending me shit, and your priority is his taste in bouquets?” 

“I’m just saying,” Quinn grumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. “He isn’t gonna win you over with some measly roses.” 

You shook your head in response. “Babe, you are—” 

RING! RING! RING!

The two of you froze for a short moment, glancing at each other as your phone’s ringing continued to echo through your small kitchen. There was a moment of hesitation before Quinn reached for it, shoulders tensed like he was expecting to see some unknown number on your screen.

His body visibly relaxed when he saw it was a facetime call from Luke.

He handed you the phone, settling in behind you with his arms still wound around you like he was unwilling to let go of you anytime soon. He hooked his chin on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours as you answered the call.

“Oh. Ew.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly at your best friend. “Is there a reason you’re calling me before ten? I’m surprised you’re even awake right now.”

“Just wanted to check in,” Luke said, his eyes narrowed like he was analysing something. “Hm. You look quite calm there, Quinn.”

Quinn startled a little, lifting his head. “Did you expect me not to be calm when you called?” 

“I was hoping you’d be in some caveman-ish jealous fit of rage. I had the boys on standby to make sure you didn’t tear the college down.” 

You blinked in confusion. 

“Are you George?” Quinn asked, frowning at his youngest brother’s grinning face.

“No, Quinn, my name is Luke.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re a little shit.” 

“What the hell, Luke?” You asked, sighing deeply at whatever your best friend was about to say. You already knew whatever the reason was—most likely encouraged by Jack, again—was going to be too much for your brain to handle this early in the morning. 

“What? I told you I was testing him!” Luke said, like it was the only defence he needed. “The note was hidden in the flowers to make sure he would go looking for it! I wanted to make sure he was putting in the effort with you, if he actually cared about the weird flower thing or if he would just pretend like it was fine.” 

You blinked. “You’re insane,” you said eventually, pausing for a short moment before you continued. “And it’s not a weird flower thing.” 

“I’m going to kill you when I next see you,” Quinn said, glaring at his little brother who looked far too smug for his own good. “And I’m going to shove these roses so far—”

“Talk to you later, bye!” 

You sighed, shaking your head as you let out a breathless laugh. You turned your head, finding Quinn still frowning and glowering, and gently turned his face so you could kiss him. “He’ll get tired of these tests eventually.” 

“Will he though?” Quinn muttered against your lips, his nose brushing against yours. “I swear his next test will be to tattoo your name across my forehead.”

You snorted. “If you do that, I’m breaking up with you.”

“That’s rude,” he mused and, for the first time since he woke up, a hint of a smile was tugging on his lips. “What if I do it on my own accord? Maybe I just want to prove my love for you, baby.”

“I like your pretty face. I’d rather not be staring at my own name whenever I look at it,” you retorted, watching as a full smile spread across his face as he leaned down to kiss you again. 

“Cute,” he murmured before he pulled back completely, a determined glint in his eyes that you knew well. “C’mon, get ready.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What? Where are we going?”

“To burn those flowers and then grab breakfast,” he answered simply.

“Quinn—”

“I refuse to look at them any longer, babe, they are atrocious.”

“You’re so dramatic.” 

“It’s a Hughes thing.”

.

[guilty-pleasures21]

The roommate

Note: fem!reader × roommate!Miguel

Part 1

Part 2

BONUS! Halloween story!

Warnings: explicit descriptions of sex (male x female).

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

Roommate!Miguel who sneaks you away from the party, the both of you stumbling down the street as you stop every once in a while to share a sweet kiss. He pounces on you immediately when you finally reach the privacy of your own apartment, his lips moving hungrily against yours, his hands roaming across your body, stroking and squeezing you through the thin material of your dress. He walks you backwards into his bedroom, the space decorated with little signs of you: the colourful bedsheets you'd bought him after complaining about the dullness of his room, the neatly framed posters you'd dragged him to the library to get printed out, the fluffy blanket he'd stolen from you when you'd finally finished knitting it after working on it for three months. He tosses you onto his bed and as you gaze up at him, lips twisted into that saccharine smile he loves so much, he swears his heart melts into a puddle in his chest.

Roommate!Miguel who's so gentle as he thrusts himself into you, his strokes slow and deep, his swollen cock brushing against your walls and stuffing you up so very nicely. He nibbles on your neck as he kneads your breasts with his large hands, your soft skin glistening all over with his saliva and your sweat. You wrap your arms around his neck, tilting his head up to yours and he speeds up the movements of his hips as you kiss him deeply.

Roommate!Miguel who's secretly still your roommate when you bring him home during summer break to meet your family. He went straight to the guest room like a gentleman, desperate to make a good impression on your parents. But you'd snuck into his room after everyone had gone to bed, unable to fall asleep without his strong arms wrapped around you. You tiptoe over to the bed and slide under the covers, crawling on top of him and snuggling yourself against his chest. "¿Cariño?" he murmurs, finally able to get comfortable now that your soft little body is pressed against his, your curves supporting his arms and legs as he curls himself around you. "Your parents ..." "I'll get up before they do," you assure him, your heart fluttering at how important your parents' approval is to him.

Roommate!Miguel who still can't believe that he gets the chance to wake up every morning with his beautiful and kind and intelligent little roommate all snuggled up in his arms. His heart thuds in his chest as he watches you walk around the kitchen in your shorts and his shirt, you hair tied up in a messy bun to reveal your adorably scrunched up features as you mix the batter for your vanilla cupcakes. You bake whenever you get stressed, the careful process of measuring out the ingredients and mixing everything in the perfect order focusing your thoughts and calming you down. He moves around the kitchen island and helps you put the trays in the oven before spinning around and pinning you against the counter. "I can think of another way to help you relax, princesa," he murmurs, smiling against your lips. You wrap yourself around him as you kiss, letting him lift you up onto his waist and carry you over to your bedroom.

Roommate!Miguel who's still your roommate after all these years, just in a bigger house, with a ring on his finger that matches your own and three other little roommates who race around the house everyday. Thank god for that administrative mix-up 😪.

Tags: @safixiovi @amberbalcom14 @shack-wheel-oneal

[babsisbakery]

Kitchen miracle

Leah Williamson x dutch!reader

“Leah, get your ass in the kitchen.” her head shoots up from her phone almost immediately. What the hell has she done this time, are her thoughts. After cautiously entering the kitchen she realises what has slipped her mind. She tried to make you breakfast but then her mum called her in the morning and she kinda forgot. So she stares at the slight mess she had made. Flour on the counter, egg shells left and right to a completely doughy mixture covered apron. A bad cook to say the least. But it's the gesture that counted. “I’m sorry my love, I totally forgot, my mum called a-” “Le what were you doing?” “Uhm tried to make you some breakfast.” It doesn't sound like a statement rather a question. “Babe, I can't be mad at you, you're too sweet for your own good.” You walk towards your girlfriend and envelope her in a tight hug. “I love you Le” with a bashful grin Leah returns the declaration. “I love you too.” After standing in each other's arms for a few minutes just enjoying the warmth of your partner, Leah speaks up, “Could you please show me how to make your favourite breakfast?”

Your head turns downwards to look into her eyes. “Of course i can, let's get to it shall we but first we should clean up this chaos love.” a giggle leaves your lips while Leah shamefully looks away. With your fingers on her chin you turn her head. “Baby there is nothing to be ashamed of.” and with leaving her time to respond you kiss her. A few moments go by, you pull away, Leah chasing your lips, unsuccessfully as you're taller than her, and you bite your lower lip as Leah’s actions are melting your heart. 

So while you are searching for the perfect playlist to start baking in the meantime Leah begins cleaning. Kitchen peace is restored pretty quickly with two people working together ideally. “Okay now I'm going to weigh everything and you take out the Pannenkoeken pan cause we are making Pannenkoekeeeeeen.” “We are making what?” “Babe you know pancakes, right?” “Of course I know what pancakes are but what in the world are Pannenkoeken?” You are amused by her confusion, her furrowed brow looks quite adorable. “It's similar to pancakes, don't question me, rather help cause I’m the one who could make something tasty.” Leah’s hand shoots to her chest acting offended but you both know she is joking.

“Step one is to mix all the dry ingredients together which means flour, salt, cinnamon and vanilla sugar.” Your girlfriend carefully combines these, eager to continue. “Now for the next step I like to whisk the eggs in a separate bowl beforehand so it's well distributed when added to the flour.” You grab an extra bowl and hand it to the defender. She does as she's told and then pours them into the dry mixture. “Well done babe. Now follows milk and a tiny bit of melted butter. And e voila.” Leah stares at you dumbfounded, “Wait that's it, we are done?” “Yeah see its pretty easy when you get the hang of it darling.” She is amazed. “But you still have to do the actual Pannenkoeken now that the ‘dough’ is ready to go.”

“I pre-heated the pan a bit for you, just have to put some butter on it and scoop the batter into the pan. Rotate the pan and wait. When the beige colour turns into a more yellowish one you flip it. Got it?” “Yeah I think I got it.” As you suspect she does it excellently. Leah gets more comfortable making them with each Pannenkoeken. While she is in her element, surprisingly, you search the cabinets for something to eat them with. Cutting up some fruit, getting out the Nutella, jam and honey plus walnuts you are all set. Two dishes are already on the counter stacked with a few Pannenkoeken. You can't believe your eyes as you turn around and find your girlfriend flipping one in the air. Luckily she catches it, serving it on your plate.

Both of you sit down on the dining table, diving in. “That was really fun my love, we should do that more often.” states Leah. A grin on your face and a satisfied stomach make you nod. “Definitely, you did an amazing job. Maybe I’ll make a chef out of you after all.” You both burst out laughing. “Good one baby, good one.”

[phoenix-writer2]

lipstick love

mastelist

synopsis: Percy loves red on you, especially on your lips.

College!Au

pairing: Percy Jackson x fem!reader daughter of Dionysus

warnings: fluff, kissing, lipstick, Percy being Percy, make out (but no smut), love, no prof reading, writing on phone because my laptop died two days ago, if I forgot anything say it

Note: I love lipstick and Percy Jackson. So I thought I this could be good. Enjoy it♥️

Word Count: 1004

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗♥️╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗♥️╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

Everyone knew that Percy Jackson's favourite colour was blue. If you asked one of his college mates or a complete stranger from his school, everyone knew the answer. But what nobody knew was that Percy also liked another colour. One that he had only discovered for himself a few years ago. And this time it had nothing to do with the sea, Sally's freshly baked biscuits or the colour blue in general.

Quite the opposite. The colour red was very different from blue. While blue was like the peaceful ocean, red was like a blazing fire. And the reason for this fire was none other than you. You who made Percy's world glow. You who gave him a reason to strive. Not to save the world, not to please the gods, no, just to be with you, to make you proud. And if he was really honest with himself, he would bring Olympus to his knees for you.

There were two sides of Percy. The one where he chased after you like a lost puppy and tried everything to get your attention by constantly saying your name and turning his sea green eyes into puppy eyes, the side where he brought you sweets and treats for no reason, and the one where he was sarcastic and cheeky. The side where he showed off your relationship, kissed you and pretended there wasn't a whole class watching. Whichever side of him it was, Percy didn't care what the people around him thought.

Red was a colour for him, which reminds him of you. He always says "I love this colour" whenever you wear it. But what he loved the most, was the red on your lips. He loved to smear the red and leave his marks behind. Loved to see your reaction after he was done painting his lips and your neck in red. He just adored the sign.

"Hey Darling, can you give me hairbrush?"

Percy was shaken out of his throughs. Your voice was like musik in his ears. Angels melody in the air. He was standing at the kitchen counter, when you came in, preparing a bowl of cereal.

You were dressed in a high waist baggy jeans and a black crop top. Your hair was messy and Percy knew you just had awaken from your nap. He looked to his right and saw the wooden hair brush laying there.

"Sure love"

He grabber it and tossed it to you. The objective almost hitting you on the head when you were still to sleepy to realize that it was flying toward you. But lucky enough did you catch it before you got a red hit mark on your forehead.

"So" asked Percy as he watched you how you tamed your hair. "Where are you going at this time?"

You pulled out a mini mirror from your pocket and an all too familiar red lipstick. You always wear it, so it had become your trademark. No y/n without red lips. Which, if Percy was completely honest, delighted him.

"Just to Annabeth", you mumble as you apply the red color to your lips. Percy watched enchanted as the color stuck to your lips. As if on automatic, he pushed himself away from the counter where he had been standing eating cereal and made his way to you.

You saw in your mirror only you and nothing else, so you didn't notice at first when Percy did get in front of you. While you were completely concentrated not to mess up your lips, Percy did get in front of you. He was a bit taller than you, around 3 inches. You didn't mind that because you liked to look in his see green eyes when looking up. Still concentrated on your lips, Percy took the little flip mirror and closed it. Now your attention was on him and only him and this made him happy.

You lowered your lipstick and put it back in your pocket to look at him. Your boyfriend had this shit eating grin on his lips as he looked at you with adoring eyes. You sighed.

"Darling", you began, but his lips were already on yours. The taste of see and salt stayed on your lips and a contented sigh escaped you as your arms wrapped around his neck and played with Percy's messy hair. Percy, as cheeky as he was, had made it his goal to spread your lipstick. Not just on your lips, but on his and your neck too. So when he moved his slightly chapped lips against yours, he transferred the red color to his lips.

His hands rested on your hips as he pulled you up and settled you on the counter of the kitchen. Your sweet sense overwhelmed him as he detached his lips from yours. You little disapproving noise escapes you and Percy smirked. He lowered his lips again, but this time on your neck. You sucked a breath as he began to spread the lipstick.

"Damn you Perseus Jackson, what would Dad say?"

Percy smirked against your skin. "Mr. D? He would turn me into a dolphin for touching you and kill me for making out with his only daughter."

That was no lie. Dionysus was short lived as he found out you and Perseus Jackson or, what he liked to call him Perry Johnson, were dating. Percy literally had to run from the god, while you calmed your father down.

While Percy picked your skin with kisses, you looked at the clock on the wall of your college department.

"Percy", you whispered. "I have to go"

With a little pout he take if from you, but the sign was it worth. All over your skin were lipstick marks from him. "Let's see what wise girl has to say to that", he smirked and pointed at the marks. You rummaging through your bag to find your mirror to see how bad it was. A goan escaped you when you saw the work Percy was very proud of.

"You're impossible", you scolded. Percy grinned again. "But you love me." you sigh again before smiling. "Yea I love you."

And with that your lips were on his again. Maybe Annabeth had to wait a little bit, bevor you showed up. But she already knew that because she knew Percy Jackson. So she waited without a care in the world and a book in her hands until Percy was satisfied with his lipstick smearing, which he called lipstick love.

Don't copy my work!

[yuan4i]

42. operation cute guy

tw suggestive chapter

it was 9:45 at night when you and scara arrived at treasures street; al haitham’s house. loud music was hitting you as you came close to the building. You two entered the house, and colourful lights and nostalgic music from your teen years greeted you. you held onto your friend’s hand tight when you saw the large groups of people drinking and dancing. “they’re surely going to receive a noise complaint by the volume of their music…” he grumbled, looking pissed and not wanting to be there, making you giggle. 

“yn! oh my gosh, hi! you’re like 45 minutes late. how have you been? how were your exams? do you want me to get you and scaramouche a drink?” kaveh exclaimed, walking up to you two. you could tell he was a bit tipsy, swaying a bit. you were about to answer when another man came up behind kaveh and wrapped his arms around him. “haitham! hi!” the blonde giggled to his boyfriend. you couldn’t tell who you were jealous of right now. al haitham or kaveh? “anyways, back to you yn. could i get you anything to drink?” “i’m good kaveh, thanks though. thank you so much for inviting us, i appreciate it.. exams kicked my ass dude,” you answered, trying your best to be happy for your two friends. they were so cute together yet you felt envious. you knew deeply inside that you couldn’t truly feel happy for them and their relationship. “if you want anything to fill your stomach, they’re all in the kitchen. there are few non-alcoholic drinks, mostly just for mixing.” al haitham said, looking at you, then walking away with kaveh to the beer pong room aka the living room. “thank you!” 

“so… what did you want to do here? i’m kinda hungry to be honest…” scara asked you, as you two walked towards the kitchen. “let’s get something to eat or drink then.” there in the kitchen, you saw dehya, with a can of beer in hand. “sup yn! your fit is adorable omg.” “dehya!” you smiled, going up to her for a hug. “did you want something to drink? how ‘bout a screwdriver? contains vodka and orange juice.” dehya said, already mixing the liquids before you could answer. “oh! sure…?” you replied unsure. honestly, you’re not as experienced with alcohol. you’ve only drunk once and that was in liyue. “scara, do you want anything to drink?” “do they have soju?” “oh course!” dehya chuckled, then handed you your prepared drink. 

half an hour passed and you were feeling a bit tipsy, yet your drink was still unfinished. you and scara stayed in the kitchen, sitting on the counter next to the sink, talking about his old school. man, you two are boring at parties. “as i was saying, fatui academy was absolutely the worst. ​​sandrone was such an ass to deal with. terrible personality and in group projects she cared for nothing outside of her research! oh and don’t even get me started on childe in group pro–” before he could finish, you two heard a holler from the entrance of the house. 

“PARTY ROCKERS IN THE HOUSE TONIGHTTT!!” you could recognize that voice from anywhere. quickly, you put your drink down, jumped off the counter and ran towards the entrance. “childe!” you exclaimed, jumping on him. “yn!! omg haha, surprise!” he grinned and you giggled in his arms. “whatcha doing here, childe? is tao here?” you continued giggling. you missed your friends so dearly. “sadly she isn’t here tonight. i came to visit you and scara, duh!” he picked you up and spun you around. “are you drunk yn? your talking’s a bit slurred haha!” “hehe maybe ‘don’t know–” “childe.” you were interrupted by the voice of scara. “hey scaramouche!” the ginger smiled, putting you down, then going in for a hug with the indigo-haired man. “we were just talkin’ shit ‘bout you.” you grinned, laughing. 

the three of you walked back into the kitchen, giggling and laughing. “so how long are you staying?” “around a week or two. i’ll be visiting fontaine next!” you and scara sat back onto the counter while childe stood. “so watcha drinking? is that a vodka orange?” childe asked you, pointing at your cup. “yeah, want the rest? ‘didn’t finish it.” you asked, handing the cup to him. “didn’t finish? c’mon! chug it down!!” he exclaimed, shoving the cup towards you. “childe, yn shouldn’t be drinking so much… i don’t think they can handle–” “are you doubting me kuni?!” you gasped. 

truthfully, you did not want to be wasted and wake up hung over tomorrow however, you saw this as a challenge. “what? no, yn i–” “is that al haitham and kaveh?” the ginger asked, pointing at the blonde and gray-haired, laughing and walking into the kitchen. “oh, um yeah.” “they’re mid… hey! wait look, there’s a cute guy there that’s alone!” childe pointed at a guy with dark brown tied in a messy ponytail. he was alone in the hall, across from you three in the kitchen. “yeah he’s pretty cute… childe! stop pointing, he’s looking at us!” his green eyes met yours, and then gave you a grin, gesturing you to come over to him. “chug up and go talk to–” before he could finish his sentence, you took the cup and downed the rest of drink. the sour citrusy taste sat on your tongue. scaramouche glared at the ginger, cursing him under his breath. “i swear to god childe, you will be the one dealing this their ass tomorrow morning.” 

you walked out of the kitchen, “oh! hey yn! are you alright–” before kaveh could finish, you walked past him and al haitham. “they probably didn’t hear you. it seems like they’ve been drinking…” his boyfriend reassured the blonde. he could tell that you were drunk by the way your body was swaying with each step you took and truthfully, you did hear them. you just didn’t feel like conversing with the two in case you snap or lash out your feelings. your head was pounding, and you were stumbling a little as you walked through the hall towards him.

“hey…” you said, trying to stand straight. unfortunately, the dizziness got you and you stumbled. quickly the man caught you in his arms. looking up at him and gazing into his key lime green eyes, your face was flushed, “shit sorry.. fuck, i didn’t mean to fall on you.. i’m yn by the way…” you apologized, removing yourself from his arms. “it’s cool. i’m sethos. good to meet you. guess you fell for me haha!” “yeah guess you’re right, pretty boy. i’ve fallen for you.” his face grew warm at your remarks then laughed. “man you’re good! you’ve even got me flustered!” 

the two of you continued talking for the rest of the night, sitting outside on the front door steps. “so, tell me yn, why haven’t i met you earlier?” he asked, giving you a playful look. “well, i’m amurta med program so i’m usually caught up in work… so, what about you? where have you been hiding?” you giggled. “well, i take an open course like dehya and candace. but honestly, i rarely hang around campus, so maybe that’s where i’ve been hiding… yn, is there something wrong? something about your body language, has something been bothering you?” you knew you weren’t going to dump everything that’s happened recently on someone stranger you met less than 24 hours ago. besides what were you even supposed to say? my two friends got together but i had a fat crush on one of them then found out recently that one of them liked me and i also developed feelings for him too? no way, you couldn’t do that. 

“yeah i guess, but i don’t feel like talking about it… thanks for asking.” you awkwardly replied. “i could help you take your mind off that if you’d like.” the honey-skinned man suggested in a flirtatious tone. there was a moment of silence before he broke it. “sorry, i was just kidding—” “actually, i think i’d really like that.” another moment of silence as pink dusted your cheeks. “… can i kiss you, yn?” sethos hesitantly asked you, trying to look into your eyes. “geez not even going to ask me on a date first?” you joked, “yes, sethos, yes you can.” your face flustered and your heart pounding as he leaned into you. eyes fluttering closed, his hands cupped your face and slowly his lips made contact with yours. his lips were warm and soft against your own, while he could still taste the citrusy bitter liquor on you. 

“what the actual fuck is going on.” the two of you heard a familiar voice, jumped and pulled away. “oh fuck um hey tighnari! how’s your night going? whatcha doin’ out here?” the male asked him. “i’m going back to my dorm. now if you two could excuse me, i’d like to get going.” tighnari said, quickly walking away from the house. “i think i’m gonna get back inside and get another cup of whatever dehya made me earlier… thanks for keeping me company, sethos.” you said, standing up from the steps. “wait, yn! here, give me your hand.” you gave him your hand, and then he pulled out a sharpie and wrote his number. “it’s my number, for the date you mentioned earlier.” he grinned, putting the sharpie away. “oh my god, you’re such an idiot. i’ll give you a text when i get home.” you laughed, opening the door inside.

CULT OF DIONYSUS ❀ prev ✿ masterlist ✿ next

al haitham x reader x kaveh SYNOPSIS  kaveh, al haitham and you are close friends and went to the same high school. but after your junior year, you left them and sumeru behind for liyue’s 2 year med school exchange program. now you’re back in sumeru for a class reunion and attending sumeru akademiya.

note : hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter bc i've worked so hard on it omfg LMFAO i a bit of this chapter at like in the morning today, so please lmk if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes ^^; tysm all for reading <33 (wc : 1600) taglist form

[lost-in-lamentation]

a nod back to this post by @fayendere.

a/n: i can't even call this a real fic so idk drabble one shot rrrhaahdsndakdjsjs either way. btw op i know i'm so sorry i'm like ages late but still, i had to deliver something.

content: ticklish lucifer! silly little fluffy moments. open ending take it how you like teehee haha

lucifer × gen!reader (you/your).

you notice it for the first time when your hand curls around the small of lucifer's waist, a gentle touch tracing his side as you sneak behind him to get to the doorway of the kitchen. lucifer's composure cracks, a small gasp echoing in the silence as he stiffens for a split second. you shoot him a glance, head tilted in feigned obliviousness. "did something happen?"

lucifer all but relaxes his body. with a sigh, he returns to the task at hand, slowly convincing himself that the tips of his ears are not as red as they feel. "you must be imagining things," he finally says, refusing to make eye contact. "go and fetch my brothers; i'll be finished in a minute. "

the second time you notice, lucifer is sitting as his desk with you standing at his side. the eldest makes a simple comment about how the room is rather hot, and you take it as a cue to reach for his coat. your hands find themselves at the base of his neck, sliding underneath the coat to pull off the fabric. but as you continue your movements, lucifer can't help but tuck himself inwards, shoulders shrugging up to prevent your fingers from brushing against his neck. once again, you fake your innocent expression, folding his coat in your arms as you ask, "did i startle you?"

he burns with embarrassment, but manages to swallow the tremble in his voice as he steels himself to look up at you. "yes, i will admit, you caught me off guard. please do not act so abruptly without a warning."

you can barely stifle your own laughter, giving him a determined nod in response instead. and just like the first time, lucifer echoes another sigh into his hands.

"MC, you really ought to turn in for the night. You have early RAD classes in the morning."

from your spot on the couch, you turn to look over your shoulder, watching while lucifer rounds the corner to sit next to you. "and when have early RAD classes ever stopped me?"

a gentle laughter sounds across the room, filling the space with warmth and adoration. at your side, lucifer fiddles with the cuffs of his pajama sleeves, rolling them up before leaning back onto the cushions. "i suppose there's nothing wrong with it, assuming that you'll make sure you make it on time."

"of course i will. i'm a model student, you know." you counter his laugh with your own, scooting over to slot yourself at his side. "oh, by the way, would you be willing to help me figure something out?"

lucifer raises a wary eyebrow at you, first glancing at the clock before coming back to look. "so late at night?"

"it won't take long, promise."

there's a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes, embers sparking in the reflection of his gaze. "i suppose it can't hurt. is it for your assignment?"

"it's... personal research." you slowly flip the cover of your book closed, placing it to the side as you turn your shoulders to face the demon next to you. "i've been wondering if you're as ticklish as i think you are."

"i beg your par-!" you jab him quickly in the side, hitting the soft spot above his waist that you know makes him jump. red blooms across his cheeks, the shade nearly rivaling the colour of his irises. despite lucifer's desire not to, a yelp escapes from him, which in turn cause you to laugh harder than you thought possible.

barely able to contain yourself, you fall back onto the armrests, laughing even louder when you see the expression on lucifer's face. "i think," you wheeze out while trying to catch your breath, "i think i've done enough research."

on the other side of the couch, lucifer grits his teeth, a hand hovering protectively over where you had poked him. "MC," he begins quietly, his other hand moving to capture your arm in his grasp. "if you'd be so kind, i have a few personal questions about where humans feel the most... sensitive, as well."

a/n: back in my writing era (ignoring my responsibilities)

reblogs and comments/tags are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[annievrse]

bewitched

satoru x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb summary: gojo has a camera during the holidays

"smile!" satoru yelled, pointing the purple polaroid camera at megumi, nobara, and maki, who sat on the couch. tinsel and holiday decorations were scattered haphazardly around gojo's apartment, colours clashing and—wait, was that a mochi plush with a santa hat?

"rack off," megumi mumbled, bringing his elbow up to cover his profile after the flash half-blinded him, the two girls next to him laughing. he checked his lap to ensure his hot chocolate hadn't spilt from his quick movement and rolled his eyes when there was a small stain.

"you're washing my uniform, gojo," megumi grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows.

but, all satoru did was giggle and watch the photo slowly emerge from the top of the camera. immediately, he began waving the photo erratically, checking every few seconds to see if the photo had developed.

"gojo!" shoko called from next to you, shaking her head while you covered your mouth with your palm at his impatience. "quit shaking it so hard."

"ugh!" he threw his head back and flopped his arms by his sides. "it takes so long!"

but, satoru's eyes found yours, mischief clouding his vision as he stalked towards you, photo and camera still in his hands.

you plucked the square out of his hand when he stopped in front of you, eyes crinkling at the image. maki and nobara had thrown their arms over each other's shoulders to pose, leaving megumi looking directly at the lens, his eyes wide in shock.

"love this photo, megs," you said. "it's going straight on the fridge."

the girls on the couch cheered while megumi sighed and stood, placing his mug on the table. "i'm going to find yuuji and yuuta."

satoru mimicked him, his hands placed on his hips, and glanced at the younger boy leaving the living room and slinking down the hallway.

"alright!" satoru exclaimed, turning back to you and shoko.

"you," he said, pointing his finger at you. "are coming with me—" he pointed to himself "—to the kitchen so you can show me how you make those incredible drinks."

you rolled your eyes playfully and stood from your spot at the dining table. shoko raised too, bringing her shoulder bag to her front to dig around in it, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter.

"i'm going to the balcony." satoru nodded at shoko's statement and grabbed your hand.

music flowed through the apartment but it was muffled when you entered the kitchen, satoru's hand still wrapped tightly around your own.

placing the camera on the counter, satoru glided around the space, plucking mugs from cupboards and gathering chocolate and milk from their respective places.

"that's everything, right?" he asked, turning back to you, who held the camera in your palms.

your eyes were bright as you stepped closer to him, the camera raised before your lover. "i doubt you've taken any photos of yourself tonight."

satoru gave you a dazed smile and shrugged. "i mean, there may be a secret stash..." he winked, causing an involuntary smile to crack your lips apart.

"you're shameless."

"you say that like you don't know," satoru muttered cheekily, his gaze never wavering from your face.

"say cheese," you teased, ignoring the heat overtaking your body and pressing the shutter button. a sharp click and flash was the only sound before satoru snatched the device from your hands. the undeveloped photo of him hung between his fingers as he removed it and nearly threw it on the bench.

"your turn," his cheeks were pink and the corners of his lips were upturned. the glint in his eye was one you'd seen many times before—the sheer adoration and unprecedented lovestruck glimmer that made your chest hurt.

the external sounds of the apartment dimmed—maki, nobara, and now, toge playing mario kart on the nintendo switch; yuuji, megumi, and yuuta playing dj and laughing down the hallway; and nanami and ijichi conversing on the other couch, away from the students.

it was an almost perfect night, grief and longing for what could have been sat like a stone in many of your friend's stomaches, including your own. yet, it was the happiest you'd all been in a while, nobody causing havoc, nobody threatening the lives of your friends—your family.

you realised too late that you'd been staring at satoru while you got lost in your thoughts, the camera in his grip a reminder that he had taken a photo of you.

though, the polaroid photo that sat idly between his fingers had his full, undivided attention.

you covered your face with your hands, suddenly embarrassed. "don't show me. it's terrible isn't it?"

satoru peered at you through his lashes, his eyes glassy. "you're exquisite," he whispered, taking a step toward you.

to try and calm your racing heart and warming cheeks, you turned to your right to slide the photo of him into your palm. and when you turned it over, you were struck with some sort of realisation.

satoru's azure eyes met yours and he smiled softly, knowing what you were registering too.

"at the same time, okay?" he said, his grin growing with each passing second. you nodded, positioning the photo upside down next to the one he held.

"3, 2, 1." and as the photos flipped, you gasped a laugh.

on the two separate polaroids was each of you, vastly different in looks, standing on different sides of the kitchen. the only feature the same was the position of your eyes—neither looking at the lens but instead at each other behind the camera.

"we're cute, aren't we?" satoru laughs, taking the thin cardboard from you and walking to the fridge to place a sparkly pink heart-shaped magnet over the top of his, and an old homemade magnet of one of megumi's demon dogs over yours.

it'd hit you then, what he meant to you, and he could tell—he always could. taking his place back next to you, satoru's fingers tickled your waist.

and in the midst of a holiday party, you and satoru stood in a kitchen. two hearts that had long fused as one, beat as one in a terrifying world where tomorrow wasn't promised.

and despite the heartfelt and realistic moment, you obviously had to break it.

"honestly," you blurted, nudging his shoulder. "i'm cuter."

"no!" satoru turned to you quickly, his eyes wide. "i'm the cutest! you're the gorgeousest!"

your forehead creased at the word as the sliding door of the balcony clicked shut.

"you're as cute as a cow's ass, gojo!"

happy holidays!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 31

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Steve plies you with kisses to the point you can’t breathe. You can’t get away from him. Your top hangs beneath your chest, exposing you to him and the cooling air. He purrs and nuzzles your hair as he pulls you against him once more. 

“It’s getting late,” he purrs, “we should go inside. How about a movie night, sweetie? You and me?” 

You stare at his neck, too ashamed to look higher than that. His hands squeeze your hips and he wiggles his, reminding you of his excitement and your unbidden need. You hate that you feel this way, that you burn each time he touches you. 

“Okay,” you murmur, hoping only for a little bit of space. 

“Mm, alright,” he slips his hands up your sides and grabs the straps of your bathing suit, he raises them up to your shoulders and ties a knot behind your neck. He traces the edges and fixes the wet fabric across your tits, giving a squeeze before he wades backward, “mm, that looks so good on you... how about you go get changed? I left a surprise on your bed.” 

You nod and follow him to the ladder. He lets you go first, tickling the back of your thigh as you climb out. He stays back to close the pool and your heartbeat slowly calms, though you know it’s far from over. 

You’re sluggish as you get to the back door. It’s like you’re stuck in a fog. You know exactly what is happening, what he wants, but knowing you can’t stop any of it has you apathetic. You can only let it happen. 

You go upstairs and pause at the top. You peek down at Steve’s door. It’s closed. Your mom’s in there, she must be. Hidden away. Locked up as you deceive her. 

You continue into the guest room. Your room now, as he calls it. You go to the foot of the bed and stare at the night gown spread across the duvet. It’s a pale blush colour, the top is cotton but the skirt is sheer with a shimmery liner underneath. There’s a frill around the hem and a bow along the chest. 

You strip off the swimsuit and put it to dry on the window ledge. You retreat and cover yourself with the nightie. It’s too small. You’re about to pop out of it as the thin straps are stretched to their limit, you feel your bum peeking out the bottom. 

You try not to let the horror sink too deep. No use in crying. Nothing you can do. You leave the room and descend. The sliding door shuts and you hear Steve in the kitchen. 

You go out to see him with a towel around his waist. Even through the extra layer, his erection prods. He’s mopping up the wet spots you left on the floor. You hang your head, “sorry, I didn’t...” 

“No worries, sweetie,” he looks up beneath his blonde lashes, “oh, baby, you look...mm, you get some popcorn going and choose a movie. I’ll finish this up and get changed.” 

“Right,” you agree and go to the counter, stopping cluelessly before the cupboard. 

“In the pantry,” he points to the narrow door on the other side of the fridge, “bowls are up there.” 

You turn to see him point. You give another nod and obey. It’s easy to do the little things. What, in the end, will hardly matter. 

You enter the pantry and search out a box of popcorn, taking out a bag, and return to the kitchen. He’s gone. You’re not comforted by his absence. You put the bag in the microwave and grab a big bowl from the cupboard. You wait, watching the numbers count down, your pulse picking up with each digit. 

You pour the hot kernels into the bowl and toss the bag. The smell is not so delicious as your stomach churns. You go to the living room and set down your heaping snack on the low table. You take the remote and sit on the section. 

You click on the first title that pops up on the screen. Some redundant romantic comedy you never heard of. You set down the remote and teeter on the edge of the couch. You lower your head and fold your hands. You can’t prepare yourself for what comes next. 

Steve appears before the intro credits end. He comes around as you sit back and he lowers himself next to you. He wears only a pair of boxers. You gulp at your quick glance of his naked torso and legs. 

He’s not looking at the screen and you can feel it. He leans back, slipping his arm over your shoulders. You try to curl into yourself. 

“That nightie, sweetie,” he pets your leg just beneath the hem, “you like it?” 

You nod, “mhmm. It’s... soft.” 

“How about tomorrow I take you to buy some more? We can get you all sorts of stuff? Cute clothes, maybe some toys...” 

“Toys?” you blink. 

“To play with...” his fingertips trail up your leg, “to experiment...” 

He leans in as the television glares in your vision. You stare at the blurring hues as he presses his lips to your temple. You whimper as his hand creeps over the skirt of the nightie and along your stomach. He cups your chest, kneading and fondling, purring as he grazes your cheek with his mouth. 

“Kiss me, sweetie,” he commands. 

You turn your head and meet his lips. He pulls you into him, urging you up onto him as he lays back on the long couch. You turn onto your stomach to keep your mouth on his, your hands on his broad chest. He growls into you as his hand slips up to the back of your head, his other squeezing your chest greedily. 

You moan as you feel a pluck. He drags his hand along your chest and shoulder, following the length of your arm. He guides your hand from beneath you and along his muscled stomach. You squeak as you touch the top of his boxers. He tilts you to once side as your lips part and you try to resist his strength. 

“It’s okay, baby, I just want you to feel me,” he pushes your hand under the fabric and his throbbing tip pokes you. You whimper as he presses your hand around it and groans, “that’s for you, baby. That’s how sexy you are.” 

Your eyes widen as you look him in the face, his blue irises smokey and slitted. You poke your tongue out to wet your lips, shunting out breaths as your chest swells. He moves your hand lower, angling it to wrap around him. He’s thick... or feels like it. He keeps his hand around yours as he guides you down to his base and back up. 

“How does that feel?” 

You can’t speak. You just gape at him. He smirks. 

“Give me another kiss,” he says. 

You do what he says. What else can you do? You tremble as he pumps your hand over him, up, down. You feel the veins beneath the taut skit and a trickle of wetness as you reach the tip. He groans again and pulls away from your mouth once more. 

“Oh, sweetie,” he takes your hand from his boxers and twines his fingers through yours. He kisses your knuckles and rolls his hips, “you are so good.” 

You hide your face as his hand slips from your head and he hooks his arm around you. He sits up and swiftly flips you, spreading himself over you. He smothers you with a kiss. You murmur around his tongue as it invades your mouth. He rocks his pelvis into you, your legs splayed around him. 

He lifts himself away, nibbling longingly on your lip before pulling back completely. He pets your shoulder and rubs his fingertip over the strap of the night, urging it down. 

“I wanna try something, sweetie, stay just like this,” he says. 

He pushes himself up to his knees. He pulls down the other strap and frees your chest. You quiver and stare at the ceiling. He moves over you, straddling your stomach as he tugs down the elastic of his boxers. You squeak again and dig your nails into the cushion. 

Your eyes sting with tears. He strokes himself as his boxers crumple beneath his dick. You can’t look. Don’t look. He shifts further up your torso and hovers over your chest. You seal your lips fearfully. 

He gropes your chest and bounces it. He lowers himself, angling so his dick is between your tits. He pushes them together and tilts back, then forward, his tip hitting your chin as you yelp. He hushes you and does it again, again, again. Each time quicker than the last. More desperate. 

He thrusts and the friction grows hot. He groans and growls, rutting as he shakes the cushions with his frantic motion. You turn your head as he fucks your tits. You hear a noise, a click, then a creak. There’s a soft drone then Steve’s name. It’s your mom! 

“Steve,” she calls again from up the stairs, “where...” her voice trails off and you hear a thump on the wall, “honey, please...” 

Steve moves his hand over your chest, pressing his hand to the front of your tits to keep them together as he uses the other to cover your mouth. His face strains as he fucks harder and harder. He huffs and suppresses a snarl as he hangs his head back. There’s a slicky heat over your face as you close your eyes against the sudden explosion. 

He cums in thick ribbons over your chin and lips, up to your nose and cheeks, even your forehead. He quakes as you hear your mom struggling to get down the stairs. The couch lurches as he puffs and pushes himself off of you. You stay there, paralysed, hiding beneath your eyelids. 

“Steve,” your mom whines. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” He calls back, his voice raspy and dry. 

“I don’t feel right,” her words slog heavily, as if she can barely form them. 

“Let me get you back to bed,” he coos, “what’re you doing up?” 

“I dunno...” she slurs. She sounds senseless and her footsteps are uneven and staggered. 

“Come on,” Steve coaxes, “it’s fine. I got you.” 

[the-roo-too]

candy -> uchinaga aeri ver

aka the fluff alphabet

admiration (what does she absolutely adore about you)- you’re her biggest supporter, and she loves that about you. support giselle’s rights and wrongs

body (what’s her favourite body part of yours)- can i say ass bc giselle will give you a playful slap you when you’re passing by 😐

cuddling (how she likes to cuddle)- laying on top of each other ‼️ either your head nuzzling into her chest or the other way around, i don’t make the rules

dates (what’s her ideal date)- shopping 🤩 date 🤩 buy all the expensive clothes you talked about last night when you couldn’t sleep, and then get something yummy at the food court!

emotions (how does she express her emotions around you)- very expressive, especially when it comes to pouting. or making annoying kissy faces! with you, giselle is very straightforward

family (does she want one)- giselle doesn’t strike me as a family gal, sorry y’all. you’d be the best rich gay aunties tho!!!

gifts (what about gift giving)- surprise silly gifts! say you were back in your hometown for the weekend and giselle couldn’t tag along because of practice. you’re bringing her the ugliest ‘i love [city name]’ shirt you can find

holding hands (does she like to hold hands)- very much so! especially in front of her members. she has to assert her dominance and claim on you somehow right? 🙂‍↕️

injuries (what would she do if you got hurt)- 100% would laugh at you. but, hear me out, when we’re talking about minor injuries like slipping on wet floor, she’ll CACKLE like a witch, and then also slip in the same spot you did

jokes (does she like to joke around)- giselle is a prankster at heart ok don’t argue with me on that one

kisses (how does she like to kiss you)- gently and slowly, with her hands cupping your cheeks so they appear a little puffier.

love (what’s her love language)- she’s ver caring physically, but not verbally, you know what i mean? she’ll laugh at you when you hit yourself on the edge of the kitchen counter, but one of her hands will slip to your stomach to caress the spot where a bruise will form, while her other hand cups your cheek to examine your pretty face

memory (what’s her favourite memory together)- i think the first concert aeri brought you to! and not necessarily aespa’s concert, it might’ve been just a show of your favourite band. that’s a fond memory for her because you were all smiles the whole time!

nighttime (how does sleeping with her look like)- i can’t tell you where that vision came from, but she drapes her leg over you ok. it’s like holding you with her hand but not really

oddity (what’s one quirky thing about her)- visualise that one clip of her saying “when life gives you lemons, make mojitos…. i just said something very smart”. she wakes you up in the middle of the night to share her wisdom

pet names (what does she like to call you)- babygirl, babydoll, sweetie; the nicknames can fall on a spectrum between a granny and a sugar daddy

quality time (how does she like to spend time with you)- watching movies while eating takeout. you take turns in picking the films and aeri always chooses horrors, so you’ll curl up to her when you’re scared (she’s herself scared shitless but someone has to be the brave one in the relationship)

rush (does she rush into things)- a little bit? she asks you out after meeting you once, first kiss is after the first ‘i love you’ lol

secrets (how open is she with you)- giselle gives me the vibe of a person who tells you everything about her pets, but you don’t know her favourite colour until like the third anniversary

time (how long did it take her to confess)- as i said before, one full meeting

upset (what’s her reaction when you’re upset)- similar when you’re hurt? she’ll poke a little fun at you, but only if you’re upset about something minor. if you’re mad at her or really really upset, she’ll do her best to calm you down and resolve the problem

visibility (is she afraid of the public opinion)- like i said in winter and karina alphabet, all of aespa is TERRIFIED 💜 of the public opinion

warrior (how often do you fight)- not commonly. aeri doesn’t have that much free time so you both try to make as much of it as you can, and being mad at each other or fighting wouldn’t be helping the case

x-ray (is she able to read you)- yes, it’s like you’re connected telepathically. and then it works both ways! she can read you as well as you can read her

yes (how would she propose to you)- giselle doesn’t give me the vibe of someone who’d wanna settle down like that… living a happy life with two cats in a pretty house? yes, but marriage and all that official stuff? mm…

zen (what makes her feel calm)- good music 😔✊ the best way to relax fr. aeri has a special playlist with calming songs you both love just for that occasions

part of [the fluff series]

[sleepyangelkami]

can I request a Carl x shy reader?❣️❣️❣️

SILENT AFFECTION c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1k

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - carl's shy girl sneaks her way around silently and still manages to be the one to scare so easily. carl makes you hot cocoa to apologise for his scary movements.

 ☆ WARNINGS - shy!reader, lots of physical affection, suggestive if you squint, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you were quiet, eerily so.

then again, you always were.

carl always told you not to be so shy around him, there was no need for your anxious tendencies when it was just the two of you. after all, you'd endured more than most couples your age ever would in their whole lives.

but nonetheless, you always found yourself shying away from the boy.

though, he didn't necessarily mind.

he adored the way your cheeks turned pink so easily. all it took was a quick compliment, a gentle kiss to the back of your hand or perhaps the top of your head. instantly, you were turned into what he thought vaguely resembled a pink glow in the dark glow stick. he swore that sometimes you genuinely did glow in the dark.

it was a sight that was so refreshing. during the horrors he faced daily, he loved coming home to his sweet shy girl, grinning while wrapping around him like a koala.

you were shy. but always affectionate.

it was what led to the many accidents.

being so shy, you were often quiet. this could be mistaken as sneaky at times. the boy would be in the middle of something, head bent and his hand on top of his hat. he'd wonder about whatever it is he was looking at, deep in concentration and how would he ever hear the low pitter patter of your sock-covered feet against the tiled floors.

it was damn near impossible to expect when you were coming. you'd simply scared him by wrapping your arms around his torso too many times. you did it when he was out in the garage, looking over the weaponry, or perhaps he was in the kitchen, not knowing you'd moved from the living room and wrapping your arms around him only when the hot coffee was inside his hands almost leaving him to drop it on the both of you.

luckily, he was a lot more coordinated than you were.

you, on the other hand, were the exact opposite.

you scared like nothing he'd ever seen before.

but he was always so careful with you. he found himself walking towards the kitchen, seeing you drop the warm milk into the mug tactically and slowly. you had a knack for spilling things so you used all your concentration to make sure that the hot chocolate you were making didn't end up on the ground like the last time.

you'd practically cried when carl was on the ground, sweeping up the remains of your mug. you felt so awful, making him do such a thing for you, as though he were a peasant. he'd only laughed at you softly, squeezing your knee and assuring you that it was okay.

carl would do anything for you, that included sweeping up whatever you spilled next.

softly, he knocked on the door of the kitchen, alerting you of his presence. he thought this was for the best, this way you wouldn't get scared when you saw him from the corner of your eye or when he finally laid his hands against the supple of your skin.

but instead, you almost dropped the milk.

luckily for you, it landed straight on the counter with only a little dripping off the side. you jumped from the ground, hand instantly falling over your heart as though you'd seen a train almost crash into you. the look of fear on your face was enough to make carl huff out a laugh at you.

your head snapped towards him, turning a pink colour. "carl." the name rolled off your tongue in a whiny voice, feeling embarrassment flood you at the thought of him seeing you so scared. though, you quickly brushed it off with, "i could have dropped the milk."

he rolled his eyes. "i know, that's why i knocked." he simply had to face it, nothing he did would ever be enough for you not to knock yourself over in fear.

you shook your head at the boy, rolling your bottom lip beneath your top one.

but carl only moved towards you, finding his body coming closer to yours. "you scare so easily." his lips bent down just below your ear. "'s so cute." pressing a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck.

you would have whined, not just for the feeling of his soft lips against your softer skin but because hot pink embarrassment was flooding you like a train. "carl." you groaned out, sticking your head into the chest of his flannel. "shut up." though your voice was muffled through his shirt.

you felt your stomach whirling at the tone he used, calling you cute. it was enough for your head to be reeling and your face feeling hot.

it was so simple and it had you so flustered.

"'m sorry, baby." and that tone, filled with fake sympathy that had you turning away from him, knowing your face was too hot to look at him. he only placed his hands on your waist, making matters even worse. "c'mon, i'll make you hot cocoa, yeah? to say 'm sorry."

you didn't let out a verbal response, mind too coated with the fact that his hands were against your waist, simply nodding dumbly while he reached over to grab the hot milk that had been in your hands before. he was pushed so close to your body and he knew exactly what he was doing.

it almost made you mad, knowing that he knew exactly how flustered you were.

he knew your eyes were strained against his long, pretty fingers gently pouring the liquid. and he knew why.

instead of saying anything, you snuggled into the boy.

this was your best way at getting away with your flusteredness. he always cooed at you, smiling softly as you dug your head into whatever nook and cranny you could find, hiding from his stare in the nape of his neck.

your best chance at a hideaway.

and cozy, too.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[da-rulah]

Could you do a something fluffy about Terzo getting given flowers for the first time in his life by a s/o 🥹 maybe after a bad week/ something that has him feeling down

Helloooooo, it's been a very long time since this ask was popped into my ask box and an even longer time since i've sat down and written anything, so please bear with me if this isn't very good... i'm quite out of practise.

No warnings, utter fluff.

'A long week' barely scratches the surface when describing the last seven days. His week had turned from aggravating, to downright infuriating, and landing now, on a late Sunday night, at just plain exhausting.

His Sunday evening service had gone off without a hitch, thanks to his careful planning and his apparent new role as a fire fighter, putting out metaphorical fires across the ministry all week. He'd even managed to keep up the facade of his usual self as he delivered his sermons.

But the second he was alone and back in his quarters, Terzo let his shoulders sag with an audible sigh, his head dropping to stare at the floor as if it were too heavy for his body.

Usually, after a difficult week he would spend his time with you, wrapped in your arms and being reminded that he needed time for himself too. You were his greatest support. But this week was different, and as much as he adored your presence, and as much as you lifted him from his own self pity often enough, he had done his typical act of pushing you away and declared he just 'needed to be alone tonight'.

You'd never let him know that it bothered you when he did that. You tried to be understanding, but you knew him better than anyone, and you knew this was a defence he put up when things got too much for him. Smothering him was not an option; you couldn't just turn up and be there, he never reacted well to being backed into a corner like that. But what you could do, was send little reminders that people - namely you - loved him dearly, and were here for him.

Terzo kicked off his shoes as the door, stripping of his ceremonial robes and unbuttoning the shirt underneath them. He wandered into his papal apartment and slumped over the kitchen counter, his eyes barely lifting from the floor as he dragged his feet. He reached out for the bottle of brandy he kept decanting in the same spot, right where the sunlight from the gardens would stream through the day to bring out the subtle notes and richen both the colour and flavour.

As he reached, his hand his glass he was unfamiliar with. His decanter was crystal, patterned and textured. This was smooth, bulbous even.

Terzo looked up, confused to find that in the middle of the countertop sat a vase, a purple ribbon tied in a neat bow around its neck. This vase was filled with the most beautiful arrangement of purple and white Columbian carnations, accompanied by purple Ruscus leaves.

He was utterly bewildered, his brain not working fast enough to put the pieces together until he saw the card that sat in amongst the flowers.

Keep smiling, my love. The world will grow tired of upsetting you. You know where I am. xxx

No one had ever bought Terzo flowers before. He'd never even thought men could receive them, the notion never crossed his mind. But such a small gesture, such an act of unbridled kindness and affection, had his eyes watering and his painted bottom lip quivering.

Was this how you felt whenever he bought you flowers? He understood it now. He understood the look on your face, because it was the same one that was on his right now. Such a small gesture had him feeling seen, validated and loved all at once. It was overwhelming.

You know where I am.

He sure did. But now, he wanted you here instead. Pushing you away wasn't the answer, you were teaching him that slowly. Sometimes you'd get through to him, sometimes you didn't. But tonight you had.

Terzo wasted no time in picking up his phone, wiping away the tears he'd let fall and dialled your number.

[nayziiz]

Fortune Cookies | CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (you)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Carlos and Chinese food became synonymous with comfort and joy for you. No matter how hectic or exhausting the day had been, the mere thought of those savoury aromas wafting from the takeout containers lifted your spirits. It wasn't just about the food; it was about the ritual, the shared moments of relaxation and indulgence after the daily grind.

You'd often find yourself craving the familiar flavours of General Tso's chicken, beef and broccoli, or shrimp fried rice. It was your guilty pleasure, your ultimate comfort food wrapped up in those neatly packed cartons. And even on those rare occasions when everything seemed to go smoothly, when the world felt like it was on your side, you still found yourself yearning for that unmistakable taste of Chinese cuisine.

But for Carlos, it was a bit of a dilemma. His dedication to his strict diet clashed with your unwavering love for Chinese food. While he meticulously monitored his calorie intake and adhered to his fitness regimen, you were more than happy to indulge in your favourite dishes without a second thought. Yet, despite the disparity in your dietary habits, Carlos never once complained. Instead, he embraced your love for Chinese food with unwavering support and a touch of humour.

He'd jokingly remark about how he'd need to cycle a few extra kilometres to burn off the excess calories from the sweet and sour chicken or the tempting spring rolls. His commitment to both his health and your happiness was evident in his willingness to compromise, to go the extra mile—quite literally—to accommodate your cravings.

And so, evenings became a ritual of unwrapping those familiar containers, the aroma of soy sauce and spices filling the air as you settled in for a cosy meal together. It wasn't just about the food anymore; it was about the laughter, the conversations, and the shared moments that made those Chinese takeout nights so special.

As you stepped out of the shower, enveloped in a cloud of steam, the enticing aroma of Chinese cuisine greeted you like an unexpected embrace. Confusion flickered across your face as you entered the kitchen to find Carlos unpacking an array of dishes, his expression carrying a mischievous glint you couldn't quite decipher.

Your eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment as you took in the spread before you. It was the familiar feast of Chinese delicacies you adored, laid out invitingly on the kitchen counter. But something about the way Carlos was beaming at you hinted that this was no ordinary takeout night.

“What's all this?” you asked, a puzzled expression creasing your brow as you stepped into the kitchen, the scent of Chinese food mingling with the steam from your recent shower. “I thought we were making pasta for dinner?”

Carlos chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he turned to face you, the corner of his lips curling into a playful smile.

“Well, I may have had a change of plans,” he admitted, a hint of mystery dancing in his gaze.

Your curiosity piqued, you watched as he gestured towards the array of Chinese delicacies spread out on the counter, the colourful containers beckoning enticingly.

“I couldn't resist surprising you,” he confessed, his tone infused with excitement.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you took in the unexpected feast before you, the tantalising aromas tempting your taste buds.

“You sneaky devil,” you teased, a flicker of amusement glinting in your eyes as you realised the extent of Carlos's surprise.

But beneath the playful banter, you felt a swell of gratitude wash over you, touched by his thoughtfulness and the effort he'd gone to make this night special. It didn't matter that your dinner plans had taken an unexpected turn; what mattered was the gesture—the spontaneous act of love that had turned an ordinary evening into something extraordinary.

As you surveyed the assortment of Chinese dishes laid out before you, your gaze fell upon a pair of fortune cookies nestled among the containers—a surprising addition to the usual fare. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in bemusement, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you realised that Carlos had orchestrated this evening down to the smallest detail, including an unexpected twist.

"Fortune cookies?" you remarked, a hint of laughter lacing your words as you picked up one of the crisp, golden cookies, its edges delicately folded like a secret waiting to be revealed. "You really went all out, didn't you?"

Carlos grinned in response, his eyes alight with mischief as he reached for the other cookie, the anticipation palpable in the air. "I thought it might be something fun for a change," he admitted, his voice tinged with excitement.

With a shared glance brimming with anticipation, you cracked open the cookies simultaneously, the brittle shells yielding to reveal the tiny slips of paper hidden within.

As you read the message from your fortune cookie, a playful grin tugging at your lips, Carlos watched you with a mixture of anticipation and excitement, his heart pounding in his chest.

“What does it say?” he asked eagerly, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the message, the words dancing across the slip of paper in your hand.

“You are destined to marry the person across from you,” you replied, amusement colouring your tone as you set the paper down on the counter.

Carlos's laughter echoed yours, relief washing over him as he reached for his own fortune cookie, fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.

"That's so weird," he remarked, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of humour and affection.

With a shared glance filled with curiosity, you watched as he cracked open the cookie, the brittle shell yielding to reveal the message hidden within. Your breath caught in your throat as he handed you the slip of paper, your eyes scanning the words in disbelief.

“Will you marry me?” you read aloud, your heart skipping a beat as you looked up to find Carlos on one knee before you, a small box cradled in his hand, the glint of a simple ring nestled within.

Time seemed to stand still as you gazed into his eyes, the warmth of his love enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your Chinese takeout feast and the echoes of laughter that filled the air, you knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter—a story written in the stars and sealed with a fortune cookie.

With tears glistening in your eyes and a smile spreading across your face, you reached out to him, your heart overflowing with joy.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you accepted the ring and his outstretched hand, knowing that this moment would be etched in your memory forever—a testament to the unexpected magic of fortune and the unwavering love that had brought you together.

[endereies]

DECORATING LOVE - MS

No Nut November - Day 18

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You and Matt decorate each other as cookies

The bell dinged lightly as he walked in, the sweet vanilla smell filling his nose. It was something about this place that felt so comforting. With the soft melody satisfying the silence, he took his gaze to the line-up of baked goods behind the counter. Dozens of bread rolls and cake slices were being preserved with tiles and glass covers, making them look as if they were just drawn out the heated oven.

“I’m sorry we are closed at the m- oh, hey Matt!” Both of your hands untied the bow behind your back before glancing up to see your boyfriend. After discarding the apron, he met you with a smile. “Hey pretty girl. You got room back there for one more?”

With a quick nod, you pull the side door open allowing him to walk through. “What are you doing, working here so late?” Looking around the back kitchen shows your previous efforts. Piping bags of icing stood in a line, circling some gingerbread men.

“Just icing, these have to set before I display them tomorrow but…I think I made a few too many cookies.” Matt followed your gaze to see two dozen extra cookies on their own tray. The amount of icing already made was clearly just for a couple batches. He’d seen you make these a million times and the thought of you accidentally making too many became humorous.

“is there anything wrong with them?” His hand reached over to pick one up. “Nope, they are all fine and with the same recipe, I just made too many. I don’t sell this much, especially during the week.” It wasn’t a crisis that you made too many, merely an inconvenience. You had all the resources to finish them all, but if they wouldn’t sell, why let them go to waste.

“It’s not the end of the world, baby. We could decorate a few, for ourselves. Nick and Chris may want some if you don’t want them to just go stale.” His mouth crunched into the leg of a gingerbread man. He sighed as the classic taste melted across his tongue. “Besides I’d be more than happy to finish these for you.”

A small giggle passed your lips as he spoke, watching him gather the few crumbs that fell from his lips. “You’d make gingerbread men, like decorate them?” Matt was hasty to nod.

“Obviously, I love watching you create things, I’d love to join in. Consider it a date night if you will. We could attempt to recreate the other person the best, plus we get a shit ton of sugar in our systems.”

“No complains from me.” The few trays that were decorated previous to Matt’s arrival were placed in the counter, covered and protected by the glass while you grabbed all the cheap icings and the homemade batch. The dining room table became full of sweet substances and half a dozen cookies. They were decently sized which gave both of you a chance to have accurate portraits.

You knew matt had a competitive streak and it showed. He was taking his time, looking up to study your face. He even grabbed your chin so you could face him while he matched the perfect shade for your eyes. He was beaming, adoring over both versions of you.

You were using a few spare tools lying about as well as a toothpick to flatten the icing as you laid it on the cookie. With a few years of training, the decorations end up with a cute brunette sitting on top the biscuit. However, Matt’s was a little messier, a few globs dotted for designs.

“I think you have to win that one baby” You giggled at the cute outfit he put you in, a black skirt and a baby pink top which was covered by an apron. Your hair was a mix of a few colours and you could’ve sworn there was a green tint to it.

“You taste good too” He bit the side of your head off savouring the ginger taste before clicking his tongue. “Fuck, too much icing.”

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