#i will never not mention his dimple bc i love him

[etherealyoungk]

baby it's cold outside - choi seungcheol

pairing: husband!seungcheol x reader

warnings: established relationship, kissing, fluff, terms of endearment

wordcount: 795

a/n: i miss cheol :( also idk this didn't turn out how i imagined but i hope it's okay, it's still cute ig :')

with winter setting it, it had gotten cold, so so cold. the temperatures had plummeted and the air was crisp and chilly, enough to make your hands turn to ice and make you shiver. but you loved the winter, it had a way of slowing down the world, bringing a sense of coziness you craved. the early morning fog had started to set it, making it even colder.

you try to snuggle inside the thick blankets to warm up, snuggling into seungcheol's chest even more. you sigh in contentment when his arms instinctively wrap themselves around your body, holding you close and you fall back asleep into a peaceful slumber.

you're stirred awake by soft fleeting kisses being placed on your cheek, stirring you out of your slumber as your eyes softly flutter open. you gaze up to see seungcheol smiling down at you, his adorable dimple peeking out.

"it's early", you mumble, before wrapping your arms around him and shifting into the blankets even more.

"i have to get ready love", he cooes and you don't respond, closing your eyes as your head lays on his chest. "it's cold", is all you say and you hear him chuckle.

"are you going to let me go to work or no?", he asks. "no", you respond. "no?", he repeats and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

"i'm gonna be late", he adds after a few seconds. "then be late", you grumble out, not willing to move, too stubborn and too comfortable in the warmth to even think about moving and letting him go.

you groan slightly after a few seconds, giving in as you tell him the classic "five more minutes", as you close your eyes. his hand rubs soft circles on your back, which was doing more harm them good really, lulling you back to sleep. and you do fall back asleep because when you wake up, the sunshine has lit up the room and seungcheol isn't next to you anymore. you furrow your brows as you look around, sitting up ever so slightly as you notice his blazer is still hung up on the hanger, indicating he hadn't left yet.

he appears in the room a few seconds later, his hands busy with securing his tie. his eyes light up when they meet yours and he smiles. "good morning love", he says softly.

"you left me to freeze", you tell dramatically as you sit up straighter, a pout evident on your face, which only makes seungcheol laugh lovingly at you. "someone's grumpy today", he adds as he walks over to you and leans down, planting a kiss to the top of your head. "i'll see you later", he adds and you nod.

seungcheol puts on his blazer and steps out of the room. you can hear the shuffle of his feet as he puts on his shoes and you get up, opening the wadrobe and taking his coat out. "cheol wait!", you call out as you grab his coat and walk out of the room, your mismatched socks serving as protection against the cold tile floor. you show him the coat.

"baby it's cold outside, don't want my husband to freeze to death now i do", you tell as you help him put on the coat, running your hands on his shoulders as you straighten the coat, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"have a good day", you tell, meeting his eyes. you quickly glance at the clock to the left and back at him. "aren't you late?", you prompt. "and who's fault is that?", he asks, making you tilt your head, giving him a glare. "my meeting got postponed", he fills in as he softly caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

seungcheol is about to leave, you even hear the door open and you're in the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea when you hear him call out for you and you see him waiting by the doorway, an arm leaning against the wall for support as he stands tall in front of you.

"aren't you forgetting something love?", he prompts and you furrow your brows. did you forget something?

"forget what?", you ask and he pouts his lips, making a kissy face. you shake your head at his silliness and walk forward till you're in front of him. you lean in, placing a soft kiss on his lips. you pull away but he leans forward, capturing your lips again, pulling you closer as he cups your cheek gently, kissing you sweetly.

"you're so silly", you mumble against his lips and he grins. "only for you", he says without missing a beat, the soft indentation of his dimple showing, making you smile as you kiss him again.

taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @idubiluv @qaramu @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @strawberri-uyu @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii

[jamminvroomvroom]

big dad vibes.

dad!ln x fem!reader

in which lando becomes a dad, and a series of moments that follow

back with more brainrot! this time it’s for dad!lando bc the baby fever is fevering and lando just had to go and talk about having kids on that podcast. my first time using social media elements as well so i hope you enjoy! ALSO! huge thank you for 3k, love you all and i cannot thank you enough for your support! 💘

warnings: minors pls dni with my work! mentions of pregnancy, children, minor angst, super duper fluff, suggestive jokes here and there, dilf!lando

1. the birth

lando’s legs couldn’t have carried him any faster than they already were. the hospital rooms disappeared past in a flash, his eyes scanning the hallways for one door. everything he’d ever wanted waited for him on the other side of that one door.

it was typical, really, that the one time he’d left your side since the season ended, you went into labour. he’d begdrudgingly listened when you told him to go to his meeting, despite the feeling in his gut that told him not to. lando knew, now, that his instincts were right.

the second he’d seen your face flash up on his phone, he was out of the conference room. you wouldn’t have called him unless it was an emergency. everything seemed to be moving in slow motion when he put the phone down, but then he was sprinting, through the double doors before him, past the line of cars, and out towards his car, speeding away from the MTC. the traffic fine he knew he was in for was worth it.

your words rang in his ears.

“lando… it’s time.” you’d breathed down the phone, accompanied by a shaky laugh.

and now he was looking at the door. it opened, slowly, and there you were, draped in a hospital gown, tired eyes bloodshot and soft. you were smiling, crying, and he fell to his knees before you.

“someone wants to meet you.” you cooed, and then he was crying too.

lando squeezed your knee, trying to pull himself together but it was futile. the most precious ray of light stirred in your arms, how would he ever be able to stop crying? you’d created that, you and him, and now she was here.

“can i…?” lando stood from where he was worshipping you, hoodie sleeve mopping up his tears.

“take all that off.” you replied.

“trying to get me naked already? i thought it would be at least six weeks-“ he teased.

“no, you sod. skin on skin contact.” you groaned, grinning helplessly at the man that had made you a mother.

he laughed along with you quietly, stripping the layers and sitting beside you on the hospital bed. you searched his excited eyes, melting as you placed your little girl in his awaiting arms.

and then he was falling in love.

the winter sunlight streamed through the window, a soft glow encapsulating your little family. lando sat next to you in dead silence, counting ten little fingers, ten little toes, memorising the dimpled curve of two lips, the crease between two softly shut eyes. his heart was bursting in a way it never had before, a new lease of life breathed into his body that fulfilled him more than anything ever had.

“are you okay, baby? i’m so sorry i wasn’t here.” lando mumbled, kissing your shoulder. he looked up at you, scanning your tired face, knowing that you’d never looked so beautiful. you cupped his cheek, pressing your forehead against his.

“the pain was worth it.” you quirked your lips, tilting your head so that you could kiss him. you felt his fresh tears wetting your cheeks, and you smiled into the kiss.

“i got here as quick as i could, i’m so sorry i wasn’t here to hold your hand.” lando was heartbroken to have missed the birth of his first child, guilty even, but you wouldn’t let that feeling linger.

“i’m just happy that you’re here now, i promise. we’ve gotta name this little love.” you pecked his lips again, cuddling into his side.

you’d been backwards and forwards on names for months, never landing on anything that seemed to fit. you’d read countless lists of names, brainstormed names of people you loved, but you just couldn’t agree.

“can we talk about it later? just wanna look at her for a bit longer. like, forever.” lando mumbled, and as if she recognised her daddy’s voice, your baby’s grey blue eyes fluttered open.

“oh.” he gasped.

you watched in pure adoration as they stared at each other, neither of them willing to look away first. a bond was forming before your eyes, and you felt like the earth was moving under your feet.

lando knew, staring into big blue eyes, that nothing would ever be the same again.

landonorris via instagram

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landonorris: welcome to the world, the one and only matilda norris ❤️

-

2. the race

“lando, you cannot take her into the bloody media pen!” you scolded, ignoring the bark of a laugh he let out in response.

you were midway through changing matilda’s nappy, dressing her in the tiny mclaren t-shirt that the team had gifted you when you welcomed her to the world.

she was nearly six months old now, with the cutest smile and a laugh that could bring an entire room to tears. you were at your home in monaco, preparing to descend down the hills towards the marina where the race would be. this would be her first race weekend, and lando couldn’t have been more excited for her to make her debut at the track.

he also couldn’t have been more nervous.

the idea of putting your baby into such a hectic environment made lando sweat, which was why you’d left it until monaco, so that you had a home base to sneak away to if it all got too much.

“are you nearly ready to go, baby?” lando came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he was peering over your shoulder, gazing at the giggling baby on her changing mat. “and what about you, matty? you ready to watch daddy drive?”

“i’m sure you’ll have her undivided attention.” you joked, turning your head to kiss his jaw. “can you put her in the car?”

lando scooped up his daughter, placing her gently into the baby carrier. you grabbed the changing bag and followed him out of the apartment, smiling hard at the quiet nursery rhyme he was singing. you locked up and trailed behind the duo, watching intently as he secured matilda’s car seat.

“see something you like?”lando called behind him, shaking his ass at you cheekily.

“you know i do, that’s how i got pregnant.” you stuck your tongue out at him.

-

the entire weekend was hectic, lando having the time of his life. he’d put his mclaren on the front row, the race flying by where he claimed second place and a rightful spot of the podium. you’d kissed him hard, matilda’s grabby hands tugging at his curls when he’d dipped down to press his lips to yours. he smirked, scheming something, and then he took the infant from under your arm, whisking her over to his interview.

“lando norris, what a race that was for you!” jenson button bellowed into the mic. “and it looks like you’ve been busy off track, too! who’s this little one?”

“the one and only matilda norris.” lando replied, pearly whites on display. he’d never looked happier, and you could feel your eyes welling with tears. lando grabbed her little hand softly, making her wave at the camera. “proud of daddy, matty?” he cooed, and you were a wreck.

landonorris via instagram

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landonorris: matty’s first race 🏎️ 🧡

-

3. that time matilda crawled

“babe!” lando’s voice echoed through the house, up into your bedroom. you were fresh out of the shower, wringing your hair dry with a towel, nearly jumping out of your skin when he called.

“what is it, honey?” you shouted back, grabbing your (his) robe from the back of the door.

“you gotta come see this.” he sounded giddy and you bounded down the stairs, speeding into the living room.

“what’s going on?” you asked him, watching him practically jumping up and down with excitement.

“matty crawled.” lando beamed.

your eyes flitted to your daughter, sat quite casually on her play-mat.

“uh…” you said slowly. you wanted to believe him, but the evidence was not lining up. she was getting closer each day, but still seemed to be a tad far off of going the full stretch.

“she did! i swear!” he turned his attention back to matilda, dropping to the floor beside her. “c’mon matty, show mummy! i know you can do it, sweetie.” lando cooed.

“can i finish getting ready?”

“baby, she’s gonna do it again and you’re gonna miss it!”

“okay, just shout if she starts spitting bars.” you teased, turning to leave.

lando was pouting, but as if she sensed her fathers frustration, matilda had a point to prove. she pushed herself up from her tummy, fighting her way towards you.

“oh, my love.” you cooed, hand splayed over your mouth. she was growing up way too fast, but that was eclipsed by the pride bubbling hot in your chest.

“see?” lando pulled you into his side, gleeful. you moulded into him, lip quivering as you watched her wriggle around. “oh, baby, don’t cry.” he pressed a kiss to your hairline.

“happy tears, i promise.”

“she’s so clever, just like her mama.”

-

5. the backlash

the clips circulating online made you feel ill.

lando had just done another podcast, and the topic of his family had come up. they’d set the trap, and he’d fallen right into it, pressuring him about how he approached racing and being a father. he’d tried, bless him, but the way they’d cut the interview made it look like little matty played second fiddle to daddy’s racing car.

you’d been in the studio while your baby slept peacefully beside you, you knew exactly what he’d said, and now the tweets circulating about your boyfriend made you want to scream.

you were no stranger to the occasional landogate, but he’d gotten a lot better over the years. lando didn’t care much for the way the media twisted his words anymore, but when it came to his family, his flesh and blood, he quite simply couldn’t take it.

lando hadn’t come out of his gaming room all day. you’d let him marinate for a few hours, but you hadn’t seen him in too long, and you were starting to panic. matty kept spitting out little strings of words, dadadada spluttering out her little mouth. she wanted him, and you needed him, so you swept her up in your arms and carried her up the stairs.

you tapped on the door, pushing it open before you got a response. he was slumped in his gaming chair, hood up, spinning around aimlessly. he looked so deflated, staring at nothing, manufactured guilt eating him up.

“hey, honey. matty wants her daddy.” you called softly, wading into the room. lando sighed, but took her out of your arms immediately.

“better take what i can get, before she realises what a terrible father i am.” he mumbled sarcastically.

“hey, no. don’t do that, lando. don’t fall into this mindset. you and i both know that you’re a fucking amazing father.” you wagged your finger at him as you spoke. he just slumped further into his seat, letting matty pull at the drawstrings of his hoodie.

“maybe they’re right, though. i was always so scared of this part. what if she grows up and is ashamed of me?” he whispered, eyes honing in on his daughter.

“oh, baby.” it physically hurt you to see him so down on himself. you were ready to burn twitter to the fucking ground. “you’re the best father i could have wished for. she’s literally a little lando! god, honey, she loves you so much. and of course she would - you’re her whole world.”

“when she won’t sleep with me, ten seconds in your arms, and she conked out. when she’s bored, she only wants her dad. don’t even get me started on that annoying stubborn streak she’s showing. lando, she could never be ashamed of you. she is you.” you continued.

lando sighed shakily, pressing a kiss to matty’s forehead before placing her carefully on the ground. some of her toys were scattered there, so she made a beeline for her orange teddy, without a care in the world for you and lando. he spread his arms for you, ushering you in and you sat on his lap, cuddling into him.

“i love you, baby. you don’t know how thankful i am that you gave me this life.” he said into your chest, kissing right over your heart.

you knew everything would be okay, anyone with eyes could see how much he adored his little girl. and anyway, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought; all that mattered was that you had each other, and that was more than enough for lando.

-

5. matty’s first birthday!

your house was full of laughter, shades of pink, purple and yellow decorating every surface. balloons covered the ceiling, a big 1 taking up half your kitchen. and in the middle of all the colourful chaos, your boyfriend held your one year old daughter, bouncing her on his knee.

they were a picture, a truly stunning one, two identical sets of eyes crinkling at the corners while they laughed together. your heart was bursting, nothing able to contain the butterflies in your stomach as you watched the two greatest loves of your life.

stuffed toys and little pairs of shoes covered every surface, wrapped up with big ribbons. all of your favourite people were in one room, your families coming together with all of your friends to celebrate 365 days of matilda.

matty had spent her day playing with sylvie, george’s young daughter, while lando took photos from every angle humanly possible. then there was the cake, which lando had let the little girl smash all over her face. you’d scold him later, the moment was far too precious.

you were caught up watching lando play with matilda, when max came up to you.

“never seen him happier.” max beamed, pulling you into a side hug. you ruffled his hair in response.

“can’t believe we made her.” you muttered, head falling against his shoulder. you were awestruck.

“when are you having another one? he’s gagging for it.” max was joking with you, but the look you gave him made him do a double, triple, quadruple take. you were smirking. “wait… wait what?”

“sooner than you might think.” you patted your tummy slyly. “he doesn’t know yet, i only just found out last night. wanted matty to have her day and then i’ll tell him when she’s gone to sleep.”

max was staring at you, bewildered. you may have even seen a tear in his eye.

“oh, i love you guys. so fucking happy for you.” he whispered.

you caught sight of lando watching, his head tilted in confusion. you just winked at him.

-

“she went down easy. think today really took it out of her.” lando said as he walked into your bedroom. you were sat waiting for him, hands resting behind your back.

“thank you for today, it was perfect.” you beamed when he leaned down to kiss you.

you watched him get ready for bed, stripping down to just his sweats, and then he joined you, lounging across the foot of the bed.

“hey, what were you talking to max about, babe?” lando asked.

“a gift that i got you.” you replied coyly.

“a gift?” lando looked confused, and the confusion only grew when you pulled your hands from behind your back, placing a little gift bag in front of him.

“yep. hope you like it.” you kept your expression neutral.

he picked up the bag, rustling through the tissue paper, and then he found it.

a little white stick.

lando stared blankly, eyes flitting rapidly between your face and the pregnancy test in his hand.

“baby…” he started, but he lost his train of thought. instead, he launched himself at you, cuddling you into the mattress. you were laughing while he pressed his lips all over your face, your neck, ending with your belly.

“good gift?” you giggled, watching as his hand smoothed over the soft skin of your tummy.

“the fucking best.”

landonorris and youruser via instagram

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landonorris: for matty’s first birthday, we’re giving her a sibling 🫶

-

6. family sized

lando norris, father of two, reporting for duty.

leo norris was born under the english sun, the late august heat making your labour a difficult one.

from the minute he was born, leo had a personality, angry, passionate eyes glaring at you and lando, a cry tearing from him that could end wars. he was gonna be a force, that little boy, not that you were complaining.

lando had fallen in love again, only having a few days to adjust before he was racing around europe, but he always found a way to slip into bed with you in the early hours of monday mornings, leo sprawled across his tanned chest. he’d watch the two of you sleep, listening out for matty down the hall.

and then she’d wake up, and lando would lay leo by your side, padding next door to your daughters bedroom. the pitter patter of her little feet and lando’s big laugh would wake you up. mornings were the best part of your day, all four of you tucked up in bed together before the chaos began.

it was hard sometimes, but life was bliss. you had the most wonderful partner, two gorgeous children, happiness that you couldn’t have ever fathomed right at your fingertips.

lando finally realised how big the world was, now that his family was often on the other side of it. he ached every second his heart was away from his kids but watching them grow, getting to see them smile, matilda clinging to his legs the second he came home, made it all worth it.

and god, coming home to you, whether you were waiting with open arms at the door or tucked up in white linen bedsheets in one of his t-shirts, was fucking delightful. you were his person, the one that gave him a reason to get up and smile, and he’d do quite possibly anything to keep you happy until you were old and grey by his side.

“matty, what do you say when we say goodbye to chat?” lando asked his little girl.

he was wrapping up a stream, matilda finding her rightful place as his new cohost - max was hardly coping with being replaced but that was a separate issue.

lando bowed his head, looking at matty encouragingly and she beamed hard at the screen. she was two years old, with the bubbliest personality and the brightest eyes in the entire world.

“gg boys.” she grinned toothily at the camera, and lando’s squawk of a laugh summoned you into the room.

lando was logging off when you walked in, watching from the doorway. leo was down for his nap, and matty was soon due hers.

“what are you two getting up to?” you chimed in, leaning into the wall.

“matty’s gonna be a gamer.” lando said in his sing-song voice, the one he reserved for when one of his kids did something that made his eyes sparkle.

“no call of duty.” you said sternly, looking at him pointedly.

“don’t worry, baby. f1 game only, she’s gonna be a racing driver.”

“just like her daddy.” you whispered, watching the duo high five in their matching hoodies.

landonorris via instagram

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landonorris: @/mclaren i’m gonna need a bigger car

-

youruser via instagram

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youruser: big dad vibes 💘

-

7. long time coming

lando held his son tight, watching you and matty examine tiny sea shells in the little rock pools that were forming. the sun was setting over the monegasque beach, beams of pink and orange light bathing your family as it bounced off the soft waves.

leo was wriggling in lando’s arms, the two year old boy desperate to join his mother and his sister splashing around in the shallows, but lando kept a hold of him. leo was too mischievous for his own good, cheekier than the average two year old. perhaps it had something to do with who his father was.

“daddy, come look.” matty called, so lando waded into the water, ankle deep. that little girl had him wrapped around her finger. he cast his eyes over matilda’s inquisitive face, glancing at you for just a second, and that’s all it took for you to steal the air from his lungs.

you were more radiant than ever, as beautiful as the day he’d met you and fallen so helplessly in love. he hadn’t stopped falling in love since. you’d made him a father, you’d given him a family, you’d taught him what it was to be truly, unequivocally happy.

and now all you had to say was yes.

“that’s lovely, sweetie.” lando cooed at matty, eyeing the handful of seashells she’d collected. “wanna go play on the sand? we have that gift to give mummy.” lando winked at the little girl, who took off running, splashing sea water over you both.

once she was out of earshot, you turned to lando.

“you’re not pregnant, are you?” you teased, thinking back to the gift you’d given him those years ago, who was now tucked sleepily into lando’s chest.

“how did you know?” lando joked back.

he grabbed your hand, toes sinking into the sand as you made your way towards matty, who was fidgeting on the picnic blanket you’d laid out earlier. as soon as you reached her, lando gave her the sly nod, the signal that he’d taught her over the last few days, and her sweet little voice called out to you.

“mummy?”

“yes, my love?” you kneeled down on the blanket, eye level with your daughter.

“daddy wants to ask you something.” her doe blue eyes twinkled in the setting sun, and you whipped your head around to look at lando.

lando, who was down on one knee, balancing his son in one hand and the biggest fucking diamond ring you’d ever seen in the other.

“should’ve done this about four years ago, but we were busy popping out kids.” lando breathed, his eyes watery. you were already in tears. “my love, where do i even begin? i’m nothing without you, and every time i leave you, i leave my entire heart behind, so please, will you marry me?”

tears streamed down your face, and lando sat the squirmy toddler down next to his sister, who was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

you surged forward, the force of your movement leaving you both in the sand. you clung to him, lips meeting his with sweet urgency. you mumbled a million yes’s into the kiss, no one left in the world but you and him, and your two beautiful children.

and when you pulled away, you scooped your babies into your arms, holding them tight, knowing that you were in the presence of the purest form of love.

your little family, complete…

…for now.

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youruser: family day out 🥹🫠❤️‍🔥

-

i don’t know how to write fluff lol

-

taglist

some tags have been removed if they weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from my list <3

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker

[jhdyuiee]

unconditional

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pairing: ex-bf!jaehyun x fem!reader

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ warnings/tags: smut!, angst (first day back & i’m breaking yall’s hearts, sorry!!!), unprotected sex, oral (f&m receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, cum eating, marking/biting, smacking, tit/breast play, making out/kissing, fingering, name calling (good girl) and pet names (love), jaehyun is jealous type, rough jaehyun, cliffhanger/mysterious ending (also sad)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ w.c: 2.7k

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ a.n: hi, jiji is back! hm, it’s been a while. in all honesty, this abrupt break i decided to take worked out in the end bcs school has been a big pain in the ass as of late & so writing has gotten hard. i also would like to apologize once more for honestly everything. however i am back now and yes, yes i know jaehyun leaves tomorrow… sigh, let’s just say that for now bcs if not i’ll start tearing up, lol. don’t forget to stay safe guys, i love you very dearly & thank you for waiting, i will be back with so much more! 🤍

the rain came pouring down hard and unexpectedly. you were not prepared for this at all, so you took shelter inside a cafe. you settled on waiting until the rain calmed down so you could go home.

staring at the gloomy weather made you rather gloomy as well. you never had fond memories of the rain, no dancing in the rain with your lover. instead, it was almost as if the rain brought your life some type of bad luck.

“y/n?” a male voice calls for you, causing you to turn.

your eyes widened, lips slightly parting at the person who stood in front of you.

“jaehyun?” you say lowly, low enough for the two of you to hear.

his face too changes, it’s almost like he’s trying to process it really was you who was in front of him. you took him in, noting how he hasn’t changed in the 5 years since you’d parted. in fact you’d say he got even more… hotter?

“it really is you,” he says breathlessly, to which you nod. “i-is the seat taken?” he asks as he points to the seat in front of you.

“n-no” you respond. he sits down, looking right at you.

“how have you been?” he starts off by asking.

“well… i-i suppose i’ve been fine. how about you?”

he thinks for a second before responding. “i could be better,” he says, chuckling. your heart nearly melting at the sight of his dimples, the very ones you used to adored.

he asks you more questions about how the past 5 years had gone, you too gaining insight on his past 5 years. there was never any mention if you or him were in a relationship during the past 5 years, it was almost like a forbidden topic.

you mindlessly turn to the window, noting how the rain had finally stopped but the clouds were still there. you didn’t know whether to leave mid-conversation or stay a while longer. it had been 5 years, 5 excruciating years without him… to leave him now was-

“are you going to leave?” his questions bring you back to him.

your mouth opens, then closes, and opens again but he interrupts. “don’t leave… not yet. instead, please stay with me for today y/n,” he asks.

you didn’t even hesitate, already settling on your answer before he even finished asking you. you two leave the cafe, you follow him walking alongside him under his umbrella. your head filled with the endless possibilities of how today could go and where the night would lead you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“y/n,” jaehyun whispers into your ear in a sultry tone.

your hot breath tickled his ear as your eyes interlocked with his lustful eyes. you wanted him, he wanted you. it had been so long since you’ve felt not only his touch, but a touch at all.

“can i?” he whispers as his eyes are on your lips. you nod, inviting him in.

his lips crash onto yours, melting together as they once used to. he started off gentle, almost as if he were testing the waters before involving the kiss into something more rough and filled with desire. it brought you back to the days of 5 years ago.

his hands traveled to the back of your head, tugging on your hair. his tongue fighting its way inside you until it began crashing with yours. you started feeling weak, legs almost giving out but he held you. he pressed you against the wall, body nearly melting into yours. you could feel his hardened member as it pressed against you.

you moaned into the kiss, trying to say his name. he tugged on your bottom lip, finally departing from your lips. your eyes watery, face feeling hot all over. your dazed gaze finding jaehyun’s lustful one. jaehyun groans before sinking onto his knees. you knew where this was going, so you helped him.

you began taking off your shirt, bra, and unbuttoning your jeans, taking them off. just as you were about to take off your panties, his hands stopped you. “just open your legs for me,” he says, to which you obliged.

jaehyun gives you one last look before disappearing in between your legs. you felt his lips nip and kiss on your inner thighs, making sure to mark you up. his wet tongue licks your already soaked panties, moaning when he gets a small taste of you. a taste he has been dying to have for 5 years.

sliding your panties to the side he licks your cunt up once, getting a full taste of you now. jaehyun almost swears he’s addicted to you again. “how i’ve missed this taste,” he moans, meeting your eyes again before diving back inside you.

his tongue swipes up your slit one more time before using his two thumbs to spread your pussy lips apart. he lets his tongue intrude inside your entrance, sliding against your gummy walls. you moaned rather loudly at the intrusion, tightening around his tongue. jaehyun could feel as your walls throbbed around his tongue, his cock hardening at the thought of how your cunt would feel wrapped nicely around him. jaehyun cursed himself, finding himself too impatient.

you began chanting his name, crying it out with every fucking of his tongue. he found your voice so sweet, so beautiful like a song he could hear on repeat and never get tired of. your fingers grabbed onto his soft locks of hair, grinding yourself on his face. your clit rubbing against his nose, you felt yourself reaching your end already. jaehyun knew you far too well too, knowing you were reaching your end as well. so he grips onto your thighs, fucking his tongue quicker and when he feels your walls clench around him he pulls his tongue out.

you were left on edge, whining at the loss of sensation of not being able to cum. jaehyun didn’t look up, busying himself with kitty licking your cunt. he kissed your sensitive clit, once, twice, three times. so lost you failed to notice his two digits that already worked their way along your slit.

“j-jaehyun?” you asked hazily, looking down at the male as he already stared straight at you. “wha- oh my god!” you moaned out the last part when you felt his two digits plunge inside your soaking cunt. the squelching sound echoing in the doorway, you didn’t even worry about if your neighbors heard. you were far too focused on the way his fingers fucked inside you over and over so quickly. already sensitive from his tongue, you were close to cumming again.

“i-i’m gonna c-cum!” you breathlessly groaned, biting down on your lips so as to not shout again. jaehyun had no intention of leaving you on edge again, so he fucked his fingers into you faster and deeper. he attached his lips onto your clit, toying with it. he remembered how much you loved it when he would teasingly dote on your clit. jaehyun knew your body as if it were his first language.

you let out a gasp before you finally came all over his hand and face. you hadn’t cum like that in a while, your fingers only being able to pleasure you so much. jaehyun licked you up one more time before kissing your clit. he got up, holding your body up before you could fall onto the ground. your legs were giving up already.

he shoved his soaked fingers into your mouth, your tongue licking them clean. “you did so good, love. was always such a good girl for me,” he whispers. his way of words, too, always turned you on.

when you finally licked him clean, he removed his hand from your mouth. in a split second his demeanor changes, his eyes turning more gentle. “as much as i wanna be inside you, i don’t have a condom. so-” you interrupt him. “i-it’s alright jae, please just… i wanna feel you.”

your words too turned him on, in a matter of seconds his pants and boxers were off. his aching cock standing proud. “jump,” he tells you.

you jumped, legs wrapping around his waist. your back still against the wall. his cock rubbed along your soaking slit before his leaking tip plunged into your entrance. 

“fuck- you’re so tight, no one fucked this pretty pussy while i was gone?” he groans. you didn’t respond, already drunk stupidly on his cock that was snugly wrapped around your gummy walls. it had been too long since you’d taken anything like his.

your eyes widened when you felt a smack against your ass cheek. “i asked you a question, or are you too drunk already to answer,” he says in a rough tone.

“uh, ye-yes b-but they don’t c-compare to y-you!” you moaned loudly when you felt him thrust into you rougher, deeper.

jaehyun was always the jealous type when it came to you, you were his and his alone is what he thought. in his world, no one was allowed to have you, it was the one thing he regretted when you two broke up. he couldn’t fathom the fact that some filthy bastard would be able to lay his hands on you, someone as tasteful as you.

“no one could leave you satisfied, right love?” he asks you, to which you just repeatedly say no. his mouth forms into a smile before his lips find themselves on your shoulder. his lips kiss along them, traveling to your neck, and jaw before coming down to your tits.

he pecks one of your tits before wrapping his mouth around your nipple. he accidently bites on your nipple when he feels you clench around his cock. jaehyun mutters a small curse as he kisses his way to your other breast. it receives the same attention as the previous one, only that this time he doesn’t accidentally bite your nipple.

“such perfect tits… were always my favorite,” jaehyun mutters, kissing your tit before parting from it. “now then, are you ready?” he asks you.

“y-yes please fuck me, be rough like you used to,” you said desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

jaehyun’s hands grip onto the bottom of your ass where he lifts you up slightly before plunging you back down on his cock, chucking at your choked out moan. you truly were the cutest, he loved you so very much.

he slides his cock in and out, out and in, of you. he groaned against your exposed neck as you repeatedly clenched around him. you couldn’t help it, jaehyun fucked you so deeper, cock reaching your womb with every thrust. it wouldn’t be long before you’d cum again.

crushing you to the wall, he secures you against it so he could maneuver one of his hands to your clit. he used his thumb to rub the poor thing, “cum, cum on my cock like the good old days love.”

and so you do, erupting around his cock that still fucked into you. you knew he wouldn’t stop until he came, so you waited, encouraging him with filthy words to get him worked up. it was doing the trick, you felt him twitch inside you.

“whe-where do you w-want me to cum?” he asks you, thrusting into you quickly, nearly at his release.

“in mmh-me!” you moaned, clenching around him. “a-are you sure?” he questions you.

“y-yes, i’ll buy a pill tomorrow– please, just please i wanna feel your warmth inside me~”

“fuck,” jaehyun curses, filling you up with his seeds. his lips crashing onto yours as you milked him of his cum.

he parts from the steamy kiss you two just shared to carry you to your bedroom. he still remember the layout of your apartment. jaehyun drops you on your bed, and you watch as he takes off his shirt, sneakily glancing at his still hardened member. your mouth is nearly drooling all the more.

“turn around, on your hands and knees love,” jaehyun says, watching as you obliged to his every word. he watched as you arched your back, ass sticking out nicely, leaking with his cum. he couldn’t resist smacking your ass, left and right roughly. you moaned against your bed comforter, clenching it tightly as you got smacked from behind. you feel his warm cum dripping down your thigh, you try clenching your entrance– jaehyun taking notice.

“how cute, trying to make sure it doesn’t slip out?” he teasingly says before jerking his cock, bringing it to your slit. he rubs against your juices and his cum before stretching your gummy walls once more. it was incomprehensible how tight you always were, just right for him– just made for him.

“how is it love? you always loved it when i took you from behind, didn’t you?” he continues to tease you. “i love it! i love your cock so much j-jae, so good~”

he gripped your hips tighter, tight enough to leave prints the next day. you felt as his tip touched your g-spot so clearly, reaching your womb with every thrust in. jaehyun watches as you begin to wiggle underneath, shaking your ass against him. he smirks, smacking your ass which jiggled from his touch.

a white ring formed around his cock, a mixture of you both. it oddly enough ignited him, fucking into you in rapid, deeper strokes. your tears and drool adorning the comforter. your tight walls hugging his cock tightly, and with one smack to your ass you came for a third time. you gushed all over his pelvis.

“good girl,” jaehyun mutters, continuing his ministrations before he too came once again. only this time he didn’t part from your pussy, fucking you in slow, gentle thrust.

by the time he finished, he laid on your bed. jaehyun was exhausted, and you were too but… you still had something up your sleeve. crawling to him you stopped on his side. “wh-what are you doin-” jaehyun gets interrupted mid-sentence when he feels your lips kiss his tip. he didn’t stop you, in fact he wanted you to continue.

you spit on his cock, jerking it as to spread your saliva along his shaft. your eyes traveling back to jaehyun who hungrily looked at you. going back to his cock you lower your head, opening your mouth so you could finally take him inside. you shoved his cock inside until the tip reached your throat, you gagged and groaned against his cock when you felt him twitch inside. staying like that for a while longer, trying to get accommodated. once you did, you started bobbing your head on his cock, using your tongue to lick along his shaft. never forgetting to tease his slit, something he loved.

you felt as one of his hands tugged on your hair, helping you to better move yourself on his cock. jaehyun was a mess, he felt blessed– praised the lords above. he tried thinking of the nastiest atrocities known to mankind as to not bust so quickly, but that proved to be an impossible task. i mean, how could he when you so beautifully wrapped your sweet mouth around his cock.

and so it wasn’t long before he came inside your mouth, your mouth feeling his warmth before swallowing it down. you now felt so full, unable to take anymore. jaehyun too, you milked him dry, taking all of him in you.

you crawled to him, laying beside him. he engulfs you into his embrace, kissing you so tenderly. you two were exhausted but for what it was worth, it wasn’t regretful. his hand strokes your back, playing with your hair. it was peaceful, so peaceful that you secretly wished for your days to be like this. you were almost lulled to sleep by jaehyun before you opened your eyes when he whispered into the quiet room.

“we’re unconditionally timeless, and so is our love.”

far too exhausted to reply back, you just smile. you snuggled into his body, melting into him before you drifted off to dreamland. however, it wasn’t until you woke up the next day and felt the cold that you knew. 

jaehyun was gone, gone from your life once more. the intimate night you two shared last night, his parting gift.

there was no getting back together, no peaceful nights where the two of you lay in each other’s embrace. you cried and cried that entire morning, and silently prayed for a day where you two could reunite again. for fate to align you two again because after all…

jeong jaehyun was your first love and last love.

© jhdyuiee

2024. 11. 03

final a.n: AHHHHH, jae leaves tomorrow. i don’t know what to do guys, like my man is leaving for the next 2 years. like what do you mean my man who has served needs to serve more?! consider this story as my last jaehyun fic while he is still a free man, lol, and no this doesn’t mean i’ll stop writing abt him. instead, think of this as a new beginning (?) okay i think that’s enough… i’ma go now! i hope you all enjoyed this read (wrote it in one day, very proud of my dedication after all the chaos school has brought me) and i’ll be sure to upload lots this month! stay safe, may we jaehyun fans make it until may 2026!

p.s: the cover picture makes me go feral, i just had to include it!

[crimsonbubble]

Dilf san.. dilf… san… DILF SUGAR DADDY SAN oml,,,,

More Than Money

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, dilf sugar daddy san, implied age gap (reader early 20s, san early 30s), praise, overstimulation, kinda mean dom san, breeding kink, creampie, mentions of a daddy kink and sir kink *not proofread, just pure horny

[PLS GIVE ME MORE DILFTEEZ THOUGHTS PLS I BEG 🙏🙏]

Dilf!San makes me all kinds of feral

Dilf!San is the kindest and hottest man you could have possibly ever met. He treats you like a princess in and out of the bedroom, literally the perfect example of a gentleman.

Dilf!San has ruined you for any other man ever. No one compares to him in any way, shape, or form. He’s more than happy to follow you in however you wish to coordinate the relationship. He’d never push you to do things you don’t want. As long as you spend at least a bit of time with him, he’s happy.

But seriously though, he’s so kind and handsome, it’s hard not to want him. Pretty face, cute dimples, gentle eyes, a killer jawline, broad shoulders and slim waist combo, pillows on his chest, thick thighs, and pretty legs. He’s got a nice ass too.

And he’s fucking hung. I still fully believe that San’s cock is as pretty as he is. The tip is a pretty rosy pink. He’s gotta be thick and heavy too, perfect for stretching you out and filling you up.

He says he can’t do certain things because he’s ‘old’ but I’m sure he still has killer stamina and endurance. That being said, San lives for overstimulation. For both of you. Loves to go down on you any chance he gets; he fucking loves to make you cum on his tongue.

When he fingers you open, he starts slow, he always does. But everytime he makes you cum, he speeds up. He’s a bit of a meanie because of his affinity for overstim but you just look so cute shaking and clinging onto him like he’s the only thing you know.

Oh yea, he has a breeding kink too. Fucking loves to pump you full of his cum. He’ll tell you to keep his cum inside you simply bc he finds it cute when you whine about it leaking out. He pushes his cum back in with his fingers before he sinks his cock back into you so he can pump you full again.

He’s was never one for being called nicknames during sex but the second ‘daddy’ or ‘sir’ leave your lips, he’s a goner. When it comes to you, he’s spitting out any nickname he can think of; prince(ss), baby doll/doll face, pretty girl/boy, sweetheart, baby, and the list goes on.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part one

“honeymoonin’”

part two | first impressions

A/N: I ehm. May or may not have gotten the inspiration for this bc of a porn channel that I watch 🫣 this is not proofread btw! P.S this is my smutty little treat for y’all b4 I drop chapter 11 of slow hands 🥲

~word count: 1k~

Summary: the morning after your honeymoon with your pornstar husband, Joel Miller

Pairing | pornstar!husband! Joel Miller x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, NSFW, mentions of the porn industry, fluff ,established relationship, husband!joel, intimacy, bush love!!, 30’s reader/40’s Joel , oral (f!receiving) Joel has a big cock (canon) silly vibes, sex tape, pet names, reader has no physical descriptions, +18, minors dni!

You and your husband Joel Miller met through the porn industry. The first time you met him before you were set to film together you were immediately hooked by his southern charm. “Well, hello gorgeous. Ain’t you jus’ the sweetest, n’prettiest thing I’ve ever had the pleasuring’ of layin’ my eyes on. Goddamn. Names Joel, and what might your name be, darlin?’” You told him your name and shook hands. After that initial meeting..You kept things professional, but everytime you did a film with him, your pussy and your heart would flutter. You had never said yes faster in your life than when Joel requested to take you out to dinner one night after a late shoot. Burgers, fries, a milkshake for two, and Joel Fuckin’ Miller’s big cock, and his Texas twang.

Once you and Joel officially started dating, you started your own porn channel together and your videos were a hit. The intimacy and chemistry on camera was never faked, and there was real love blossoming between the two of you. People loved it. There was something about casual, real intimacy that really got your viewers going.

The money earned on the films went straight to buying you an enormous rock to put on your pretty finger. Joel spoiled you in every aspect, and you were over the moon when he asked you to be his wife.

One impromptu wedding in Vegas later, Pornhub paid for your entire honeymoon to the Fiji Islands.

In the middle of the king sized bed was a gift directly from Pornhub with a new camera, toys, lube, and a congratulations letter from some of yours and Joel’s fellow adult filmmakers.

You put that camera to good use immediately.

The following morning you awoke to an empty bed, but a note left on the dresser in your husbands penmanship

Goodmornin’, babydoll. I went out for a run, but I’ll be back in a jiffy. Can’t wait to fuck my wife and then feed ya some fresh fruit, and then fuck ya some more. Oh, and I booked us couples massages later this afternoon! Love you so much, honey.

-Joel xx.

You let out a girlish giggle and kiss the note before setting it down on the nightstand.

When he returns he’s drenched in sweat that seeps through the fabric of his t-shirt that adorns his body in all the right places. He’s got that twinkle in his eye, and that dimple poking out of his cheek that you love so dearly.

“Have a nice run, baby?” You grin at him over the rim of your book as he approaches.

“Mhm. S’gonna be an absolutely gorgeous day out there.” He drawls and watches as you set your book down on the nightstand.

“Yeah? Well, I think my husband should gimme his cock so that we can go out and enjoy this gorgeous day.” You curl your pointer finger inwards in a come hither motion for him to come closer.

“Oh, you want my cock? Hmm..what a temptin’ offer that is, honeybun.” He teases.

“But I want you to strip for me first, Joel. Give your wife a little show.” You wink and reach for the camera on the nightstand and flip it on.

“A strip tease, eh? I think I can handle that.” He chuckles and reaches for the hem of his shirt and slowly pulls it over his head just as your thighs slowly spread open over the comforter and your hand slips down between them to lightly play with yourself.

He grabs the waistband of his shorts and playfully snaps it against the lower part of his stomach with a grin before he slowly tugs it down over his hips. His cock is semi-hard beneath the confines.

“Fuck.” You breathe, “I’m the luckiest woman alive.” You beckon him closer and obliges. He takes his lower lip between his teeth when your soft and warm palm wraps around the underside of his shaft, fondling him gently while you hold the camera steady in your freehand.

“Shit. Y’got that all wrong, sugar. M’the luckiest motherfucker alive with the hottest, kindest, most beautiful wife. Fuck.” He hisses between his teeth.

You giggle softly at his reaction and slowly begin to pump your hand around him and twist your wrist in a corkscrew motion.

“And this cock is all mine, right baby? Fuck, it’s so pretty. I fuckin’ love you and your cock.”

“All fuckin’ yours, sugar plum.” He groans and leans down to slot his lips with yours, slipping his tongue past your mouth in a heated, bruising kiss. His cock grows hard and heavy beneath your soft touch and he pulls away only to climb on the bed on his knees, and grab the underside of your thighs to spread you apart further.

“And this pussy is all fuckin’ mine, ain’t she?” He rasps and looks up at you and the camera that is now angled downwards.

“All fuckin’ yours, baby. And she’s absolutely dripping for you right now.”

“Can see that, honeypie.” He chuckles and nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and bites down playfully. He doesn’t mind the coarse, thick, swirling hair on your pussy tickling the patches on his beard. He fucking loves you in your natural state, and he lets you know it by devouring your cunt whole. He kisses and suckles on your clit like it’s the sweetest candy he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. His jaw goes slack as he laps up your arousal that seeps out of you like sweet honey from a hive. He groans against you, the bridge of his nose buried against the hair on your pubic bone. He inhales your scent, musky, erotic, and all you. He drinks you in, feasts, and feasts while you cry out his name.

Loving Joel Miller came easy, and while he has the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, it’s his ginormous heart that really sealed the deal for you.

When he hears the camera click shut and fall to the unoccupied space on the bed, he grins and continues to eat his favorite fucking meal; you. Until your tugging on the roots of his scalp and reaching down between his thighs to grasp his heavy cock once more and pull him into you.

Fuck your wife like you mean it, Joel.

Don’t gotta ask me twice, sugar.

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[gooondocks]

no one's ever had me (not like you) — evan buckley.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: when buck meets his high school sweetheart at the ten-year reunion, he learns that their lives may be very different now, but the spark is still there.

─── pairing: evan buckley x gn!reader.

─── warnings & notes: fluffy fluff. no use of y/n, i'm british so probably inaccurate depiction of high school reunions. based on the song 'so high school' by taylor swift bc i heard it and couldn't stop thinking of this idea. crappy ending bc i suck at wrapping things up. enjoy!!!

─── word count: 2.1k.

     "DO YOU THINK ANYONE'S DONE US all a favour and spiked the punch yet?"

     When the email appeared in his inbox a few months ago — an e-vite, of all things, complete with the kind of graphic design prowess he hasn't seen since the early 2000s — Buck had been pretty intent on ignoring it.

     A hundred excuses had bubbled up in the back of his mind, because honestly, the thought of heading back to his hometown to attend a high school reunion made his skin itch. Trapping himself in a sweaty gymnasium, surrounded by dozens of almost-strangers engaged in a vanity contest of 'who's the most successful?' coupled with a shitty DJ blasting 2010's greatest hits?

     It's really not what he'd call a good time.

     Even if he could've talked himself into it, sharing a ZIP code with his parents for even a day or two was more than he was willing to tolerate. He'd left Hershey in his rearview almost a decade ago, and there's not a fragment of his whole being that regrets it for even a second.

     Except.

     Except the dates lined up with one of his rare weekends off work. Except when he looked up the flights online, just to see, he'd stumbled across a deal so cheap Buck honestly thought he was hallucinating for a moment.

     Except Evan Buckley believes in signs from the universe, and when Maddie gives him that look over lunch one day, even though Buck had absolutely not mentioned the reunion to anyone, it's the final nail in the coffin for him.

     He booked the tickets. He told the team he'd be out of town for the weekend, and bought a new shirt, and now he's standing in his old high school gymnasium. He wrinkles his nose at the smell, that sweat-and-hormones stink that never really goes away, and you're sidling up to him at the refreshments table, and the speakers are blaring an old Ke$ha song he hasn't heard in years.

     For a moment, he's seventeen again. The sound of your voice slips over his skin like a cool breeze in the desert and suddenly it could be the night of junior prom, and the pair of you have sequestered yourselves in a shadowy corner, laughing at the committee's subpar attempt at an 'Under the Sea' theme.

     Buck blinks, and he isn't seventeen, but he flashes you a wide smile anyway as you help yourself to a glass of bright red punch.

     "Hi."

     He says the word so quietly, he's surprised you even hear it. But there's a sparkle in your eye as you raise the cup to your lips, and he knows you heard him.

     You always could.

     The last day Buck ever saw you, he kissed you goodbye before you piled into your dad's old truck and drove out of sight, bound for college and big dreams and a future that didn't include him. Your lips had been damp with tears. On his loneliest nights, Buck swears he can still taste the salt on his tongue.

     It's been a decade, but you still look so similar to the wide-eyed kid he fell in love with. Your hair's a little longer, perhaps; there's a scar on your chin that wasn't there before, and the dimples around your smile have deepened, but that's all. You're still you. The thought makes his chest ache a little, but it's a good pain.

     He wonders if he's changed much. He wonders what you see when you look at him.

     "I suspect it was the first thing Marty Brandt did when he got here," Buck adds, louder this time, and you laugh, and he wonders how he went ten years without hearing that sound. "I didn't think you'd be here. Didn't see your name on the RSVP list."

     You shrug. "Jem bullied me into it. Emailed my boss to get the time off and everything."

     Even as you try to seem annoyed, a trickle of fondness finds its way into your voice. When Buck follows your gaze to the dance floor, it's hard to miss your childhood best friend throwing shapes to an old Maroon 5 song.

     "You two still talk?" He doesn't mean to sound surprised, except...

     Well. Staying in touch with high school pals hadn't been a priority when he skipped town. Hard to imagine a single one of his classmates he'd want to stay in touch with. Except you.

     A grin tugs at your mouth. "Worse. We work together." You tilt your head, still smiling fondly in Jem's direction. "Tried to shake her off, but she wouldn't let me."

     He knows a little about that. "Or was it the other way around?"

     "Wouldn't you like to know, Buckley?"

     He would, actually. He watches you grimace a little at the flavour of the punch when you take another sip, an adorable twist to your mouth that he once knew so well. A decade ago, the sight of your pout could've made him do anything.

     "Tastes like half a bottle of vodka," you tell him, and you take another sip even though he knows you never liked vodka. Remembers playing truth or dare at a party in junior year, and how you threw up in the bushes afterwards.

     Buck had held back your hair and tucked you against his side afterward, letting you snuggle into the warmth of him while you slept off the worst of your hangover.

     There's a distance between you now, but it's comfortable. Buck tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans and the pair of you migrate over to a shadowy corner of the gymnasium, away from the prying eyes of your former classmates.

     "So," Buck says, as the DJ switches to another song, "how have you been?"

     He can't help but wince half a second later. Seriously? How have you been? He's never been to a high school reunion before, but he's seen plenty of movies, and he's pretty sure he's hitting all the marks of being a fucking cliché.

     To your credit, you don't laugh at him. Cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink Buck has ever seen, you manage to bite back the giggle rising in your throat.

     Buck wants to sink through the floor.

     "I've been okay," you tell him, swirling your glass of punch absently. The corners of your eyes crinkle a little as you smile at him. "Life, y'know?"

     He does. He really fucking does. "Any partners? Kids, spouses, anyone I have to worry about punching me?"

     You only mentioned Jem earlier, so it doesn't seem like you brought a date, but he isn't sure he'd love it if he found his partner cosied up in a dark corner with their high school sweetheart.

     God, he hopes you didn't bring a date.

     There it is, a flash of— something, there and then gone in an instant. Buck hasn't thought about high school in years. Hasn't paid any mind to the friends he left behind. Once or twice, his thoughts have flitted to you, though. The one that got away. Where you are, if you were happy.

     When he landed in LA, when he finally settled into his place at the 118, he'd thought of you. He'd hoped you managed to find a place you belonged. A family that loved you like his did.

     He thought this would be awkward. Running into you again. Your name hadn't been on the RSVP list, and he'd been so relieved, because what if there was some uneasy tension between you? Buck isn't sure he'd have been able to cope with that.

     There aren't a lot of happy memories from his childhood. His adolescence left a lot to be desired, but— you. A bright spot in all that grey.

     An uncomfortable reunion might have ruined that. Those memories are cherished, for Buck; locked up tight in his battered heart.

     But it's not uncomfortable, or awkward, or uneasy. Ten years and ten seconds have slipped by like sand in an hourglass and he wonders if there's been a moment in the last decade where he felt this at ease.

     You sigh at his question, quiet and fond. "There was an engagement," you say after a moment, chewing on your lower lip, "and a break-up. Two years ago, now. Amicable, but..."

     "But it still feels like you lost something." Buck knows that feeling intimately. It's been a long time since Abby left him, and even though he's over her, the memory of it still stings sometimes.

     You nod. "Yeah. One minute you're going to marry someone, and then you're not. Doesn't really matter why not, in the end. Still hurt a little. Not anymore."

     "No?"

     You smile at him. "No."

     Buck isn't sure how much time passes, how long you both remain huddled in that dark corner as the world continues to move around you. The DJ keeps churning out a series of early-2000s hits that he's fairly sure is just one of those throwback Spotify playlists, and you both make jokes when the Class President gets on stage to give a cheesy speech, and he tells you all about the ill-advised escapades of his early-twenties.

     Crashing his bike, dropping out of college. He glosses over the unsavoury parts of his youth, but the way your eyes soften, he knows he isn't fooling you. He never could, not when it mattered. Stories about Peru have you in stitches, and a particularly messy tale about his time as a ranch hand makes you laugh so hard, half a glass of punch ends up your nose.

     He missed that. Making you laugh.

     Warmth unfurls in his chest when he looks at you. It's the kind of familiarity people associate with coming home, except it was dread he felt stepping off the plane, and uncomfortable memories prickled at him as he drove through the streets of his hometown.

     You? You've always been that for him. Warm. Safe. Home.

     "You've heard all about my wild twenties. What about you?" he wonders, as the pair of you drift back to the refreshments table, seeking snacks that don't taste like cardboard.

     (Buck manages to find a bowl of chips that aren't completely stale, so he'll call that a success.)

     "Oh, the usual," you shrug as you refill your glass. "Finished college, got a job and an apartment and a cat and a fiancé. Lost the fiancé, got another cat." You take a moment to flash him your lock screen, a picture of two calico cats curled up on your couch. "Think I  traded up there, huh? Anyway, got a new job and moved out West about a year ago."

     "Oh, really? Where'd you go?"

     "California, actually. I'm in the History department at Berkeley."

     He blinks at you once, twice. Something inside his chest goes zing. "I'm in LA!"

     "Well maybe I'll have to come down and play tourist for you sometime."

     There's a coy tilt to your mouth that he's seen before, and something pleasant skitters down his spine. Your cheeks turn even rosier, and Buck suspects the spiked punch is only partly responsible.

     "Maybe you will," he says.

     His number hasn't changed since he left Pennsylvania, and maybe that's another sign, too. The shitty music starts to wind down, and his old classmates start to stagger out into the parking lot, and when you kiss his cheek and promise to get in touch, he wonders if there's such a thing as second chances.

     It isn't the same. He isn't seventeen and you're different people now. This isn't making out under the bleachers at a football game or skipping class to take a ride on his motorcycle. You're adults now, all grown up with a whole host of other problems, and it isn't the same. It isn't.

     Except.

     The next day, Buck's phone buzzes right before he boards the flight to Los Angeles. The number isn't familiar, but when he opens the message, he cannot fight the grin that creeps onto his face.

     Hope you get home safe. I'd hate to have to find a new tour guide x

     It's not the same, because he isn't in high school anymore and neither are you. But as he switches his phone to flight mode and tucks it back into his pocket, a giddy feeling sweeping through his chest, he can't help thinking that maybe this could be better.

[majinbangus]

Majin~ idk if my original ask sent so I'm gonna send it again just in case, Tumblr must find my asks delicious bc they get eaten like 85% of the time 🥲

Hello! Idk it you're taking requests now, or if you've already done this prompt/theme before, but I was wondering what it'd be like to be one of the many people Johnny flirts with on base, and you brush it off bc he's such a flirt. And yes, while Johnny will flirt with just about anyone bc thats his default setting, he's low-key going out of his mind bc he wants you to see that with you, it's different! It's genuine and sincere! What will it take for you to realize that the only person he's got a huge crush on is you?

Idk just wanted to see this from your perspective! No worries if you don't feel like writing anything for this, still love ya!! 😘

hey anon, sorry for the wait, getting my groove back slowly, but here it is. i might do another version of this some other time tho bc i had another vision for it but ended up with this

You don't know why he's been so affectionate with you lately. His playful flirting has gotten excessive, too. It's weird. He's being weird.

It's not like you dislike the attention, but you know he doesn't mean anything by it. That's just how he is. You know you're firmly designated as ‘friend’ in his eyes. A painful fact you've known ever since he made that comment to his ex about never seeing you in a different light because you ‘weren't his type.’ 

Yeah, that stung a bit, and you were a little offended, but that was more ego talking and less romantic feelings at the time. 

Unfortunately, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Yours, specifically.

You don't quite remember when exactly it happened, but you know it was sometime during the last few months of his last relationship. That was an agonizing time, and over a year since the end of that relationship plus several flings later, you're still pathetically pining over a man who will never see you as anything more than a friend because quote ‘he could never be attracted to someone who wasn’t his type’ unquote.

Now, you have to put on a smile and pretend it doesn't make your heart malfunction whenever he flashes that dimpled smile at you, or when he rests an arm over your shoulder while he walks next to you calling you all sorts of pet names he's never called you before. Not to mention all the times he feeds you a piece of his lunch, and when he grabs your wrist and makes you feed him. That barely scratches the surface of his newfound behavior around you.

Soap has never shown you more flirtation than the usual shallow amount he gives to anyone he's not dating. To be bathed in it out of nowhere is a shock to your system. An enigma you can't comprehend, nor are you eager to question it lest you lose his sudden affection. And despite the delusional part of you wishing he meant something by it, deep down you know it's simply false hope making you imagine the romantic adoration reflecting in those pretty ocean blues of his.

“–so what do you say?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You blink a few times, trying to force yourself to focus on Soap and not how bright his eyes are, or how warm his body feels pressed up against yours with his arm slung around your shoulder. He's so close, it's making your heart do fireworks.

“I asked if you wanna meet up next time we're on leave? We rarely hang out outside of work and drinks at the pub.”

“I can't.” It's not that you don't want to, but you don't really see the logic behind it, either. “One, we don’t live remotely close to each other, and two, I have family coming to visit.”

Soap laughs at your excuses, tightening his arm and pulling you impossibly closer. “That just means I can meet them, love! I've been meaning to sight see where you’re from anyway!”

It's your turn to bark out an incredulous laugh. “Sight see what? Soap, the city I live in is shit.”

“Och, can't be that bad if the locals are half as lovely as you, darlin’.”

“That was terrible!” You giggle, nearly doubling over at his cheesy flirtation, but despite yourself, you can't stop the fluttering in your heart, hoping he doesn't realize how much you actually like his attention and stupid charming words, or how you can barely share the same space with him without feeling like your chest is going to burst, or the obvious hearts in your eyes every time you look at him. “Please tell me you use better lines than that!”

Soap pays no mind to your laughter with that lopsided smile on his lips. He stares at you with those stupid, pretty blue eyes, strong arm still around you almost as if he's staking some kind of claim on you, like a leash or collar. You wish that was the case. You'd give anything to be marked as his.

“They seemed to work for me so far.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Aye.”

“Psh, then save the cheese for someone you want.”

“What if I want you?”

“What?” He sounds so earnest you have to stop a moment, shrugging off his arm, and turning to face him. Soap doesn’t flinch, staring back at you with such intensity you laugh uncomfortably to ease the growing tension in your chest. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Soap. You almost got me.”

“I’m being serious. I want you.”

“Since when?”

It’s a genuine question. You’re not playing dumb intentionally–well, maybe a little–but after so long of pining after him, this is something you need him to spell out for you. Even then, a part of you is ready to laugh off whatever he says next. 

Because what you have with Soap doesn’t go any deeper than a close friendship. It never has and never will be anything more than that. Even when you want it to be more, you know he’d never love someone like you. 

“Soap?” You tilt your head at him when he doesn’t answer. His smile has dropped and he’s looking at you with that cute frown of his you’ve always loved. The one when he’s deep in thought, doing all sorts of calculations or analysis on whatever has him stumped. 

“I don’t know how I can be any clearer, hen.” He talks slowly. Low and soft as if in disbelief. “Thought I’ve been obvious with my flirtin.”

“We ‘flirt’ all the time!” You laugh, trying to deflect the growing hope you feel. “We’re friends, Soap. Stop messing with me! Besides, I know I’m not your type.”

Surprisingly, he sounds offended when he asks, “Where’d you get that idea?” 

“What, that I’m not your type? You said it.”

“When?”

“When you were with what’s-her-face? The crazy possessive instagram model.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’, that always stuck with me, so thanks for that.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

You give a derisive laugh. “Then why’d you say it?”

“She was insecure.” Soap furrows his brows in regret, running a hand through his mohawk. “I thought I liked her at the time, so I said it to make her feel better. She didn't like you.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” You mutter bitterly. “I respected boundaries, and she always thought I was trying to ‘steal you from her.’”

Soap mumbles under his breath, “Don’t think I would have complained if you did.”

“What was that?”

“Nothin’, bon.” He sighs, the tension falling out of his shoulders before he squares them again, staring at you in a way that makes your breath catch. “Listen. I know it might be hard to believe, but I’m not takin’ the piss. If you give me the chance, let me prove how serious I am about you.”

“Soap…”

“Darlin’...”

Fuck. A flash of those blue eyes and you can feel yourself hope. Would it really hurt to give in? Just this once? Maybe, maybe not.

Sighing, you inwardly scold yourself knowing you’re jumping headfirst into the unknown, but…

 “Fine. One chance.”

Soap’s never broken that trust before, and from the grin on his face, it tells you he’ll always be there to catch you.

“One chance is all I need.”

[konaiiro]

AU if Ian is in the military and Mickey is inevitably waiting for him. 

Started as a sketch then i got carried away. For A.U.gust (Hosted by @gallavichthings). Some accompanying drabble bc I fell in love when drawing them:

The last time Ian Gallagher was back home, he was doing time at Cook County for breaking parole. Only for a couple months, but Micky had missed the man by a week when he had left for another tour. A failed drug test had just costed him more than he was ready to pay. Ian had come to visit him anyways, wore his camouflage gear with badges and all; the security guards always loved a man in uniform. Still, it hadn’t been the same through the glass. So close he could see Ian’s chest rise and fall, his dimples sliding on to his face with amusement as Mickey had ranted on about his cellmate - so close to touch but all he could do was pretend until the fifteen minutes were up. 

This time, Ian hadn’t even told him he was in town - only finding out when he opened his front door with a beer in hand with a singlet and boxers on. “Hey, Mick.”

He knew his face must’ve looked stupid because Ian cracked up before going in for a hug. Micky let him, not giving a shit about his family inside and folded his own arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. He had never gotten changed so quickly, desperate to get Ian to himself, as the man lounged on his bed and pretended he wasn’t watching Mickey by fiddling around with the decade-old kunai knifes. They stopped for booze and a pack of smokes on the way. After a quick makeout against the alley wall, the two of them continued on, pushing and shoving to give each other a reason to touch. It didn’t really matter where they went, as long as it was just them where Mikey could do more than take glances at Ian’s army issued cargos. He looked good - ginger hair shaved on the sides, his shirt fit snug, skin tanned as much his pale Irish genes let it. There was the scar too - a slash across his cheek that won’t fade completely. Ian hadn’t mentioned it, so he wouldn’t either. 

They dumped their haul on a secluded bench and drank a disgusting whiskey-and-orange juice combo. Ian said it was good enough, but Mickey blamed that on the moonshine shit that he must’ve usually had on hand in the middle of trying not to get shot. They didn’t talk about his tours, in the same way they didn’t talk about court mandates or prison or deals gone wrong. The closest was if there was a stupid story to get a laugh out of each other. No point in talking about all the fucked-up stuff in their lives - they’ve only got until Ian has to leave again. The two of them drank some more, smoked a bit, kissed, jerked each other off until Ian turned around, placing the barely alive joint into Mickey’s mouth before bending him over the bench. They had a lot to catch up on. 

Before this last tour, Micky had been in prison. Two tours ago, they had first held each other in Ian’s childhood bedroom, knuckles split and bodies bruised from the brawl with Terry. He tried not to think about how his life was now segmented into pieces by the brief lapses of Gallagher being back in town - even if it was true. Micky thought about the inevitable homecoming party for Ian at the Alibi tonight and tried not to think about how two weeks was not a long time at all. 

[attyrocious]

cross posting yesterday's rambling thread for posterity and because tumblr lets me edit things. anyway this is a sorta long thing and i might add things i forgot to mention in the twt thread

i tend to draw on-model canon because im a coward + just personal preferences. but the way i convert the canon designs into my artstyle is that i take the distinct features oda gives them and then combine it with personal headcanons to complete what should look like a unique human. Starting with Trafalgar Law, who is unfortunately a bland-ass conventionally pretty boy

someone commented a while ago the law hat drawing tutorial i made a while ago didn't make much sense and i realize its bc of the specific way i draw law's face: heart shaped (ba-dum-tss). That meaning, a narrow chin widening into a mild defined jaw, wide cheekbones, and up to his know-it-all brain dome.

given that, the pudgy guitar pick shape of his head i mentioned here should make a lot more sense.

i don't think this design point is unique to me, as most conventional pretty anime boy gets given jaws like this. a lot of law artists tend to veer into this head shape. just how life be sometimes. other points: flat, thick eyebrows is bc im a hairy gal and i need to feel better about myself.

Killer gets to be more interesting, because he shouldn't be considered conventionally attractive. my idea behind killer's is that those individual features is smth he would be insecure with enough to hide himself in a helmet but i draw him with all the love in the world actually. i'd like to think its how kid sees him or yknow, law, bc he's my kin assigned blorbo and maybe you ship lawkill as a guilty pleasure too i mentioned before (and ruined people's days) when i said whenever i draw killer he looks like griffith before i put on his goatee. the upper half of his face is distinctly feminine, with the lower half kinda over compensating. other than that uhh...idk. stan killer

Kidd is the bane of my existence, i feel like i can never draw his face consistently. yet at the same time he's so damn fun to draw everyone gotta try it.

my problem with kidd is that this mf does have eyelids. most kidd painters out there interpret this as him having deep set eyes (think Matt Smith or jeffrey star) . and yeh skill issue on me i should practice that. other notes, i try to make him younger than canon makes him look. he is my babygirl and he deserves to look cuddly. my band au kidd version has the honor of being allowed some chubs. he's just tries to look older and more menacing with edgy makeup. also i try to give him dimples when i can because, well i can.

Rosinante last bc i lost steam after kidd. the thing abt cora is that aside from not having eyebrows, everything is structured with the generic one piece man template. which means i gotta do everything myself doffy is there bc the way to figure out how to draw these two is to give them minor differences from each other, that being doffy gets slightly sharper features. in canon, these two are also rly wide boys (more of an oda style feat tbh) but i make them long. though bigger brained donquixote artists know that of these two brothers, doffy should be the wiry-er built. anyway that's it. in conclusion, i need to draw more girls actually i feel like im becoming misogynistic by osmosis from oda's style and now i draw girls all looking the same too.

[theyluvlyss]

𝐬𝐨, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞...

I literally just came up with this little drabble, and I'm sorry, but it's funny to me, so-

but anyway, two more shazam fics are on the way pretty soon (one freddy, one billy), and then I got a stranger things/mike wheeler request after that, so be on the lookout :) !

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝

《 ♡ 》 oneshot/crack-fic

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

reader loves it when billy showcases his power. billy loves showing off to his girlfriend. it's a win-win situation, to be honest.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!girlfriend!reader x billy batson - she/her/hers pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

post shazam!: fury of the gods

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

yelling/screaming (in a good way, dw) - lots of begging from reader lmao - billy being easily swayed bc he wuvs you🥰 - dang, this is kinda crazy sounding outta context, huh? - anyways - this whole thing is just very berry cute, methinks - good vibes only, supa good vibes only✨️ - shrek reference

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

"Do the thing!"

It was a sudden squeal, almost as if you'd been holding it back for a while. Not to mention, the walk back to his place had been comfortably silent the whole time before, your hand in his with both stuffed off in his coat pocket in order to shield them from the cold, winter weather.

Although, the squeezes you would give occasionally should've been somewhat of a warning sign. Billy just figured it was a silent, "I love you" of some sort, returning the action every time with butterflies in his chest that kept him warm.

He never would've guessed them as a sign for an incoming fangirl moment. And so, to be sure...

"What thing?"

Not that he wasn't genuinely confused, of course.

"Ya'know... the thing that I like?"

He looked down at you, met with your beaming smile back up at him that brought on one of his own. Still unsure, though, merely repeating the words you had jingled to him all of the sudden back to you in a tone of skepticism.

"The thing you like?"

"Yeah!" You chriped, waiting for him to catch on excitedly, only to be mildly disappointed when that moment never came and he shook his head in dismiss.

"...I don't know, I'm still lost."

"Billy, noo..." You whined, nudging him a bit with your side as the walk continued. "Pleaseeee?"

"What thing?!"

And before you could fully explain yourself, you saw a look in the emerald of his eyes that told you he was faking, the boy having caught on by this point and leaving you to huff and turn away.

"...Stop, you know what I'm talking about, you're just being mean."

Deep chuckles came from his chest, Billy nodding to himself in amusement after you had realized he was teasing you. And, because it was in his nature, he continued to do so until you would ask properly.

"You're right, I do know. I just wanna hear you say it."

"Mncht." You clicked your tongue but didn't give in to the vexing feeling of your boyfriend complicating the process, keeping strong at your pleads in hopes to simply just wear him down.

"Billyyy...please do the thing? Please?"

"C'monnnn..." He urged, nudging his shoulder with yours, and was satisfied with the roll of your eyes and his implied directions followed.

"Hmff... Can you pleaaase say the word? Please?"

"You want me to say the word~?" He repeated, this time with a tone of flirtatiousness that you willingly succumbed to, snuggling up to his arm almost too cheesy for your own liking as you gave an eager, "Yes!"

"Mmm, I dunnooo'..."

This boy and his need to taunt, you swore, would be the death of you...! And yet, it was charming enough for you to let it slide.

No, he was charming enough for you to let it slide. Shaggy brown hair and gorgeous green eyes and those cute dimples whenever he flashed you that winning smile...

Plus, you had been on the verge of geeking out the whole day out with him. Your boyfriend is a superhero for Christ's sake! Of course you'd want to randomly see the magic of it all from time to time! And it's not like you ever knew him to shy away from amazing you whenever he could. So...

"Please-please-please with a lot of maraschino cherries on top?"

Billy laughed at your specifics, already in the midst of guiding you towards a secluded area away from crowds and bystanders.

"Okay, okay, but only because you asked so nicely."

"Yes, yay-yay-yay...!!"

Your cheers and giggles of excitement went hushed by your own hands, waiting in anticipation as Billy took some safety steps back away from you and gave one last look around the area. When he was sure he was in the clear, he granted you your wish. Did just as you asked...

He said the word...

"SHAZAM!!"

...and with a thunderous crash of lightning and a blinding light for only a moment, he was transformed into his older, super-self, and you were laughing wildly through jagged gasps of amazement.

"AHAHAHAHA!!!"

A little bit of a crazy laugh, you'd admit later, but not the point-

"Yeah? How was that?!" Billy-... Shazam asked, his arms spread wide open as he walked closer to you.

"Super loud and scary!" You squealed, hopping around like a little girl who was seeing a fireworks show for the first time, the glowing emblem on his chest casting you and the entire alleyway in gold.

"Yeah?!" Shazam nodded in confirmation with a grin just as wide as your own.

"But it's so hot!!"

"Yeah, it is...!"

Billy's ego? Boosted.

Your fangirl levels? Off the charts.

Hotel? Trivago.

"Okay, now do it again, but back to you-you." You demanded requested, doing a small spin move with your index finger while Shazam dropped his arms to his side.

"Dude-"

"-Please?" You cut before he could provide any light scolds or reasons as to why he shouldn't. You were his girlfriend, and you were so cute looking up at him, expecting to see her boyfriend, now, and not some grown man version of him she... liked... but didn't truly care for.

"...Okay."

"Yay!" You clapped, moving yourself back this time to avoid a second lighting strike.

"SHAZAM!!"

And with that, he was back to himself, your Billy Batson, standing with his arms still open in hopes he'd impressed you the way you had assumed he would.

And god, did he go above and beyond.

"AHAHAHA, YOU'RE SO COOL, I LOVE YOU!!!" You nearly screamed, voice rasping over from the sheer amount of pressure you were putting on your throat.

"I love you, too! C'mere...!" He laughed, admiring your excited figure and the way you were already running towards for him to catch you in his arms in a warm hug.

It lasted for longer than you both expected, but was clearly needed as you enjoyed each other's presence and touch.

"You know what you reminded me of, lowkey?" Billy murmured, no need to be any louder when he was right by your ear.

"Hmm?" You hummed, face pressed into the crook of his neck, cold nose tickling his skin.

"...Do the roar."

You pulled away very slowly. Your face went about as cold as your feet were right now, staring deep into Billy's eyes with a look of pure disbelief.

He stared back. Grinning, head nodding as if to say, "Yeah? Right?" like a puppy.

"You know what?" You hummed gently, returning the smile softly while your vision trailed his features and then down to his chest.

"Yeah?"

You pointed directly to his heart.

"You...are amazingly talented..."

":D!?"

"...at ruining nice moments between us."

":0..."

You nodded, satisfied with yourself at the light tease.

"Mhm, yeah :)."

𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐬-...𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭...𝐢𝐬- 𝐈-...

is it obvious I have such a BAD crush on billy, and this is lowkey shamelessly self-indulgent, or nah🧍🏽‍♀️?

you said nah?

awesome, cool, thanks /ᐠ-⩊-マ.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

me🤭

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

1,132 words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey girl I’ve just seen your Elijah x plus reader post, could you do one for klaus?

klaus mikaelson x plus size reader headcanons:

— warnings, lots of talks of body image, insecurities of weight & appearance, talks of binge eating, KLAUS BEING THE BEST BOYFRIEND!!!

first of all, klaus thinks you’re the most beautiful person to ever walk this earth bro

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL

he adores you so much bby

this man will legit get mad if you mention anything negative about your appearance

“do you think my stomach looks werid in this d—“ “no, my love, it does not. please stop with this utter nonsense, you look as beautiful as you always do. extremely, extremely beautiful.”

“i don’t like the way my arms—“ “little love, if you even think about finishing that sentence with an insult to your heavenly self, i will throw you over my lap and spank your arse raw.”

you finished the sentence

WHENEVER HE BUYS YOU CLOTHES HE ALWAYS BUYS YOU FIGURE COMPLIMENTING THINGS!!

he loves you are ur body an actually obsessive amount 😋😋😋

“why would you even want to hide such beauty?”

LITERAL HEART EYEESSSSSS

when you wear said clothes his whole breathing stops, his eyes widen, he blushes, he stutters

he’s actually a little simp for you icl

ofc if you say to him the clothes that gets you, you won’t wear bc they make you genuinely uncomfortable - he will stop

BUTTTTT continuously tries to convince you bc he genuinely doesn’t understand why you would ever want to hide your body away when it’s so perfect and beautiful

he never oversteps any of this boundaries with you tho!!

if you tell why they make you uncomfortable (i,e they highlight my figure etc) he’ll just be SOOO confused

“that is the point, my love. your body is gorgeous - why would you want to hide it?”

I WOULD DIE

if you ever tell him you’re scared he won’t be able to lift you bc of ur weight or something…

he’s always picking you up, spinning you around, carrying you places, making you sit in his lap even if there’s a chair available to you just to prove you’re being RIDICULOUS

he’s all smirks and dimples as well like ‘you sure about that love’

when or if you decide to open up to him about your binges and cravings - he takes it all very seriously, anything to help his little love!!!

he’ll explain to you how he manages to get over his cravings for blood and try to help you if that’s what you want

BUT HES JUST FULL OF SOOO MUCH REASSURANCE AND LOVE FOR YOU BABE

hes actually the best bf

don’t every try test me on that

he knows that expressions on your face when you start feeling insecure about yourself and your body and immediately he’s there with you and kissing you all over your face, pulling you away from everyone else and whispering compliments

and/or taking the piss out of the people around you to distract you and make you laugh that laugh of yours he loves so much

my man 😋😋😋😋😋

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

-

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

[catiuskaa]

Floral Troubles: Tales of love.

It’s been hard dealing with your recent love life with how busy the flower shop has been since the wedding season started, over two weeks ago. It was just you, the ribbons and greenery, until he hugged you from behind, left 20 bucks on the table and in an affectionate tone, asked: “How do I say I love you in flower?”

and because of all the support you showed, yes, my loves, flower Binnie is back for more >:)

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reblogs and the votes! I never expected 'Yeah, flowers follow' to blow up like it did, and I'm really happy that you guys read it and enjoyed it as much as I did when writing it!

This can be read as a stand-alone, although I hope you guy's like this one as much as its 'first part', which I'll link here.

basically bc I mentioned to @tangerminie that there was a possibility that I'd do a part two (just bc she reblogged and said "Changbin, you can just go fetch more flowers", and she was right, Changbin's not the idiot, I am, LOL) and well, I committed 💪

word count: 4k. [☆☆❁☆☆]

It was after lunchtime when the bell rang inside the shop again, making you groan slightly towards yourself. Your feet hurt from standing up, knowing that your mother needed the only stool available —because God forbid she lets you take a chair from your apartment, which was just upstairs—.

You wished for hours to pass faster or for better shoes.

"One second, please!" You let out, quickly wiping your mouth with your sleeve just in case, wrapping up the white roses you needed for a booking made two weeks ago. Busy designing and planning the different flower arrangements with a soon-to-be bride, you had little to no free time, days passing by inside the little flower workshop behind the beaded curtains. And, sadly for your poor heart, that also had meant less time for a special someone, who was also busy composing, rapping, and most importantly, looking handsome for his fans.

Rushing to the counter, you bowed and smiled, eyes closing and dimples showing, hoping your encounter didn't involve one of those mean customers that think the Sun spins around them.

"Sorry, what can I-?"

"Hey, pretty."

You opened your eyes at max speed, seeing him giggle, his captivating almond-shaped eyes welcoming you with energy and enthusiasm. His hand travelled closer to your face, tucking some rebel hairs that had gotten out of the messy bun you had.

Looking around, you smiled widely at the empty sight, the different flowers and plants being the only witness of how you skipped on top of the counter, pulling the so-called "dark idol" into your embrace.

"Binnie," you mentioned, barely in a whisper, your tensed body quickly sinking on him, the light scent of cologne surrounding you feeling like a breath of fresh air.

You cupped his face between your hands, thumbs stroking the rapper's cheeks.

"You saw my text, right? I'm sorry... I know you only get this week off before not having much free time. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to our date, and I know being sorry doesn't really make up for it, but-"

He gave you a small peck, interrupting you.

"It does, silly. I know you have stuff to do, don't sweat," he smiled, and you snuggled closer to him. "You know I love this, but if your mom sees you on top of the counter, she'll kill me."

"I'll be your knight in shining armour, my prince. Thou shan't be afraid no more," you mentioned in a solemn yet somewhat mocking tone. Changbin chuckled loudly.

"I missed you, flower girl."

You got down from the counter, blushing.

"I missed you too, world star." You blew a kiss at him. "Stay with me?"

He nodded, staring intensely into your eyes, which made you smile. "So? You stormed in here just to flirt with the store's employees?" You covered your mouth with one hand, acting deeply offended. "You know, my manager will hear about this."

He played your game, turning upset in the blink of an eye. "How dare you? I just came here looking for yellow pansies."

You tried keeping up the act but couldn't hold back a smile, the idea that he had memorized parts of the book you gave him being funny in your head, blush still on your face. You took only one flower from its place and handed it to him in a huff.

"It means 'thinking of you.'" he nodded, proudly remembering the flower's meaning.

"Oh. Who's that for?" You asked, giving him a playful side-eye.

His smile lightened the colourful space. "You, of course."

"Ugh, I'm going to get diabetes. Hi, sweetie." Your mom entered with a cheeky smile, greeting the buff man only, making Changbin and you snort, still giving each other puckish looks.

"Hello, ma'am."

"Ah, you make me feel old! Just call me Deiji."

You quickly put the flower back in place and opened the small door to let Changbin access behind the counter.

"You can give the boy the stool I was using. I'll go upstairs and rest for a bit. It's time for my TV drama," your mom explained, ignoring how your eyebrows shot up, leaving the room with a big smile.

You waited until you heard steps above your heads, Seo looking at you with an amused expression. "She's been saying all day that the stool was hers until the day that she'd die. Unbelievable!"

"She loves me more," he teased, spinning side to side on the seat like a small child.

You laughed. "That's because you're adopted. She stole you from Chan Hyung."

The jokes continued, a funny atmosphere settling in the flower-crowded building, mixing with the low-toned music you played in the background.

"Hey, sweetie, come in here," your mom told Changbin, appearing through the curtains from the workshop. "We don't want people coming in here for the visuals rather than for the flowers," she joked half-heartedly, with the only intention of taking care of the idol, allowing him to rest without worrying about any gossip that could be spread.

He cackled, thanking the woman, quickly taking the stool and stepping inside the workshop. As he entered, he was immediately greeted by an atmosphere of creative energy and controlled chaos. Unlike the pristine and organized front area, the workshop was a less spacious room filled with several metal tables, each displaying an array of tools, materials, and unfinished floral designs. Vases, containers, and plastic baskets were scattered across the surfaces, some filled with water, others holding half-arranged bouquets.

The floor surrounding the workbench, situated in the centre of the room, was covered with scraps of greenery, petals, and snippets of ribbon, evidence of the ongoing creative process. The surface above was also cluttered with tools of the trade. Pairs of floral shears, wire cutters, and various types of scissors Changbin wouldn't know how to differentiate, each worn and marked from countless uses.

He took a deep breath, the air perfumed with a fragrant scent of blooms, mingling with the earthy aroma of greenery and the faint hint of floral foam that, funnily enough, resembled yours perfectly.

It was just like you, he thought, the workshop possessing a vibrant energy and a sense of untamed, natural beauty, both characterized by their creative essence and a certain level of organized mess.

He loved it.

The bell above the main door rang again, and he couldn't help to stare back at you through the beaded curtains.

Maybe it was only to him, but your presence exuded an aura of sincerity and radiance that was impossible to ignore. He had only seen that kind of beauty in movies, the ones he saw to get inspiration for his lyrics. With an ethereal glow surrounding you, to Changbin, you were like a magnetic charm that drew people in —the people being him—.

He had never been so into someone before. There had been flings here and there, but none of those had reached this level of intensity. His eyes didn't leave your figure, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he saw you greet some clients.

Your lips, delicately curved and inviting, held a gentle smile to the people you were paying attention to. They were adorned with a subtle touch of colour. The sudden need to peck them, imagining the cute face you'd make afterwards, became more intense.

He admired your confident yet effortless stance as you moved through the store, looking for the bouquet the client had asked for.

"Oh!"

Changbin snapped out of his daydreaming, facing Deiji.

"So you're serious about her," she concluded with a sly smile.

Seo found himself unable to hold back a goofy smile as he scratched the back of his neck. She giggled, the smile on her features making her look younger.

"Come, sweetie." She invited Changbin upstairs, grinning happily. "I can't let my future son-in-law get cold in the workshop!"

As he ascended a small flight of stairs, he was greeted by a quaint entryway leading to the apartment's main living area. The open floor plan created a sense of spaciousness, allowing the living room, dining area, and kitchen to seamlessly blend together.

Above the bustling flower shop, the small apartment had a cosy and charming ambience that invited anyone to sit and relax. Despite its modest size, it was easy to see your touch in the small decorations that crowded the building.

"It's quite messy, but let's pretend otherwise," your mother said, dismissing it with a flick of the wrist. Changbin laughed, feeling at home.

His eyes locked with another staircase, even smaller, that had books and pots on the side that wasn't facing the wall.

"Her room is in the attic, if you want to wait there," Deiji mentioned slyly.

He had to hold back his curiosity, fidgeting with his rings.

"Can I?" Seo questioned sheepishly.

"Of course! I'll get her there soon, don't you worry!"

She softly rushed the buff man upstairs. Changbin couldn’t help but smile, seeing a wooden sign with several flowers painted. It was so obvious it was your room, you could feel it, and the sentiment intensified once he entered.

With its sloping ceilings and exposed wooden beams, it had a rustic charm that added character and warmth. Soft, natural light came through a dormer window, casting a gentle glow upon the space, which made the furniture inside seem magical.

Against one wall, a somewhat messy, wooden, old-looking piano took centre stage, its unpolished surface and stickers adding to the atmosphere the soft glow of fairy lights delicately draped around it created. The instrument served as a focal point of the room, where it was noticeable you spent hours, judging by how used it looked and how several music sheets filled with compositions adorned a nearby music stand and walls.

The attic's nooks and crannies were transformed into storage areas for various instruments and books. A violin rested upon a stand, ready to be played. An acoustic guitar leaned against a wall, waiting for the touch of skilled fingers. A collection of books, whether flower-related or not, were carefully arranged on a vintage bookshelf, adding a touch of your own personality to it. Close to it, there was a small desk that stood by the window, offering a dedicated space for writing and composing music, in between the range of options. It was adorned with notebooks filled with scribbled lyrics, a laptop for digital composition, and a collection of pens and pencils.

Changbin couldn’t help but lie on the bed as soon as he saw it, looking at the walls of the attic, which were adorned with posters of iconic musicians and whatnot, reflecting your appreciation for the art form. He was excited to see known artists on the walls, happy that you two had common interests. Strings of fairy lights were delicately strung across the ceiling, casting a warm and magical ambience, reminiscent of an intimate concert venue. He hoped one day you’d play something for him, or that you two could play together.

With your flowery scent surrounding him, feeling like he had reached a feeling beyond contentment, Changbin realised how tired he felt all of a sudden, and slowly drifted to sleep.

[☆☆❁☆☆]

You hummed along with the music that kept playing, sketching possible designs for the wedding centrepieces the bride had asked for. Your mother came from upstairs and tsked when she noticed you yawning, quickly turning off the CD player.

"You young people need to sleep more. Go up to your room, I can finish these myself."

"But Mom, it's barely 8 pm, I can just-"

"Fiddlesticks. You'll fall asleep as soon as you touch your bed. Unnegotiable."

You groaned as you stood up, leaving the metal stool for Deiji. You stretched your back, your muscles sore.

"Hey, did you see Changbin leave?" you mentioned, trying to hide a childish sadness in your tone.

You didn't see your mother grin for a second, then quickly put on her round glasses, continuing your design.

"No, I didn't."

You pouted. You knew it was a bit selfish from your side. You understood that he wasn’t going to waste his free week wandering in a flower shop, but there was a small part of your mind that secretly hoped that he'd stay with you until you finished. Your mom cooed, looking at you from above her glasses.

"Moooommm," you whined teasingly. "Gimme a break."

"Whatever. You teenagers live in your own dreams." She mocked, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"You sound much older when you talk like that."

She laughed. "Just remember, I'll leave in a few hours for the flower convention with Yeongsuk. I'll come back in two days."

"Is she coming to pick you up or do you need me awake?" You inquired, taking your brown apron and hanging it on the wall closest to the stairs.

"Good night, kid."

You snickered, going upstairs slowly. You quickly took your phone and went into your messages. You pouted again, seeing that he hadn't even left a text. Tapping into his contact, you started writing an apology.

'world star ✿ฺ' hey, 'm sorry about today. I'll make it up to you.

But just when you pressed send, you were surprised to hear a notification sound coming from behind your room, the door left ajar.

You stepped in cautiously, your heart skipping a beat when you saw him snoring lowly on your bed. Your insides churned, smiling cutely. You tsked to yourself, knowing that your mom was the one behind this.

You changed into your pyjamas in the bathroom, laughing silently at the sight of the tough-looking man still sleeping cutely when you came back. You took an oversized T-shirt and some sweatpants that were too big for you, but you hadn't had the opportunity to return them yet. You approached him carefully.

"Binne?" You shook him softly.

He slowly opened his eyes.

"Wh-what?"

"You fell asleep, silly. Here, take this. You can get changed in the bathroom downstairs. It's the first door closest to the stairs."

You giggled at the marks that he had gotten from the blankets.

He came back, and you laughed at the sight of him with your clothes on. How could someone look so cute?

"Shouldn't we tell Deiji I'm staying the night?" he asked softly, getting back inside the bed, under the covers.

You snuggled closer to him, taking his arm and settling it on your waist.

"Nah. She'll leave in like two hours, anyway."

You both got lost in each other's eyes.

"You smell nice," you said, fighting to stay awake.

He couldn't help but move his hand towards the blanket, covering you a bit more.

"And you are really pretty when you're half asleep."

"Hey, you're also half asleep." You blabbered, almost unintelligible. You poked the tip of his nose. "Cute," you laughed before falling asleep. He nuzzled in your neck, hearing your calm breathing as a lullaby.

[☆☆❁☆☆]

Changbin woke up, his legs tangled with yours, still close to him, between his arms. Your breathing, calm and rhythmic, also made him relax, enjoying the sight of your body surrendering to the embrace of slumber. Soft moonlight still filtered on the room, casting a gentle glow through the windows, fighting against the Sun, which was starting to wake up too.

He smiled when he notices you do the same, a faint smile lingering at the corner of your lips.

Your room, illuminated by the soft moonbeams, looked different to him. The posters of musicians on the walls seemed to come alive in the pale light, as if whispering melodies that guided your dreams. He wondered what you were dreaming when your embrace around him tightened. He kissed your forehead, brushing stray hairs from your face, which slowly woke you up.

"Hey, pretty."

Instead of answering, you giggled, quickly getting on top of him, your legs resting on his sides, your nose brushing against his.

"Hi there, world star." You lie down, getting comfortable still on top of him. His hands travelled to your hips, caressing them, trailing shapes with the tip of his fingers.

"What time is it?" you whispered, your breath tickling his neck.

He took the first phone he could from the nightstand, trying with only one hand, refusing to let you move from on top of him.

"It's too early."

You giggled. "But what time?"

"Me time."

"Wha-? AH-"

His grip on you tightened, and he pinned you down this time, planting soft kisses all over your face. You laughed uncontrollably, one, because he's a loveable dork, and two, because it tickled, but you weren't going to say in case he'd use it against you.

"You're built like a brick!" You cackled, unable to push him off you.

"You love my strong arms, don't lie." He joked, flexing. Seo relaxed, trying not to crush you with his weight.

"I'm hungry, lung crusher."

"That's my line, you savage stealer."

"Get off and I'll make you coffee."

You both went downstairs, filling the place with giggles and light jokes.

"Hey, I'm actually sorry for yesterday. We only slept, and you could've done something better with the boys after getting the week off."

His voice was soft, words rolling off his tongue. “I prefer to be with you, the others can wait,” he said, eyes locked on yours. He wasn't going to say that he didn't care about sleeping with you —and by that he meant actual sleeping— because he loved waking up by your side, hiding his reason behind a lovestruck smile.

Suddenly, your head was spinning, at a loss for words. You couldn't quite place what was happening to you, why you were suddenly so reactive to every detail. It was a weird feeling that tickled in your chest, but you let yourself fall into it, the feeling of being loved and loving so new and daring that you couldn't get enough of it.

He sat on the stools as you took a mug for him, pouring 99% milk before microwaving it, then adding 1% coffee.

"As dark as your soul, mister."

"Very funny," he didn't laugh, not until he dunked the tip of his fingers into his drink, noticing that it was only lukewarm before splashing it on you with a flick.

He just stared at you with the same goofy smile that was on your face, while you cut some strawberries into smaller pieces, putting them into a yoghurt. He swallowed dry when he noticed you biting your lip in a sign of concentration.

"Whaddya looking at?" You said, in a somewhat sing-song voice. He just smiled, and you snickered, seeing him poking his cheek with his tongue. "Cat got your tongue?"

He laughed. "Just looking at you, hot stuff."

Your eyes opened wide, failing to hide a blush on your features that made Changbin cackle.

"Shut up, meanie," you snorted, watching him stand up, moving until he was behind you, pulling you into a back hug.

"I mean it."

You stared at him from above your shoulder, looking up and down.

"You're not too bad yourself."

[☆☆❁☆☆]

It was practically 6am after you both finished the impromptu make-out session. He stared at your lips, red and swollen.

"Don't smile like that, you cheeky bitch. Yours look exactly the same." You hit him softly on his chest, snorting, tenderly pecking him. “I need to do some arrangements, come with me? I’ll take you somewhere nice when the rest of the world is awake.”

He chuckled, letting you guide him, loving how your small hand fitted in his, fingers linking almost automatically. He took the stool as you combined the different types of greenery, playing some music on your phone.

He was going through his after noticing he had several texts from Chan, wondering if he should reply now, knowing how damn early it could be for someone who slept so little but decided to text anyways.

'red angry bird' not kidnapped yet, dw

Your heart did fuzzy things inside you, looking above your shoulder to the man behind you, spinning on the stool with his tiptoes, his messy bed hair and how your clothes looked on him making you soft.

You looked at your phone, noticing the next song on the queue and you smiled, turning around to approach him. He’s still on his phone.

“Hey, world star.” You kissed his forehead to get his attention. He freezes, his heart fluttering. “I think you know this one.”

He looked at you, losing himself in your features until he heard you singing. It was 'because', the song he sang with Felix, and you were just singing his part cause Lix’s voice was too deep for you to reach. He slowly joined your singing. Your voice, like a delicate yet powerful instrument, effortlessly blended with his, intertwining together in a melody that reverberated through the walls of the colourful flower shop. With each lyric, your voice carried the story he wrote, and he couldn't describe the feeling of happiness he achieved, knowing that you liked it too.

You kept working and singing, not noticing how he left the room. he came back with his black leather jacket in his hand, tenderly putting it on your shoulders. He took his wallet from the jacket's pocket, grabbing 20 bucks from the inside.

"Binnie, what-?"

He settled it on the table in front of you, and also carefully settled the book you gave him.

You stared at the title, "the language of flowers", curious.

His hand hugged you from behind, leaning down right next to your ear, and in an affectionate tone, he asked.

"How can I say I love you in flower?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned around to face him, seeing that he was hiding his other hand.

He showed you a small red chrysanthemum.

Due to the lack of an answer, his face turned worried.

"Please tell me I got it right."

You kissed him, giggling.

"I love you too, world star."

[☆☆❁☆☆]

~Kats, who now has high levels of sugar in her blood because of how fluff this was and has also lost her Duolingo strike bc she got distracted writing lol

[harunade]

omg your brain is perfect i will kiss u!

taerae smiling while eating pussy❔❔❔face sitting with hanbin❔❔❔❔

u r so right. taerae probably doesn't even notice hes smiling bcs u taste so good n feel so good on his tongue 😞 while also mentioning this u said something abt his dimples (the urge of wanting to poke them has me fighting everyday too) and that made me think abt how he would use his incredibly sweet (sexy) smile to his advantage while genuinely fucking you into the bed. (i also am a firm believer of massive cock taerae.) can you tell im taerae biased 😭😭

and omg face sitting with hanbin❔insane. i feel like he would manually pull you against him all the way so he can feel all your weight on him. he practically makes out with your cunt until you're crying and you start grinding on his face 😭😭😭😭😭 (i am also hanbin biased 😞)

i just wanted to add that if anything im saying is too much or it makes you uncomfortable if you can please let me know! i would never want to intentionally make you feel uncomfortable on your blog! <3

no omg pls keep talking!!!😭😭😭 i love how you think

Although Taerae isn’t the tallest among the members, he still is tall, which means his dick def is as well. The first times you two fucked, he had to prep you with his fingers but still had to let you adjust to his size for a few minutes. (hmm i feel like his dick is long but also thick and veiny) “Look at me, baby” with tears in your eyes you looked up at him, and he was giving you a warm smile as he started thrusting into you. His hands were on your hips and he was unconsciously pushing you down into the mattress.

“You’re so big, Tae” he would get really shy at your words but they would turn him on so bad that he’d have you cum on his dick multiple times. Whenever he thrusted into you, he could see the outline of his dick poking through your stomach, and he would melt at the sight!! His hand would cover over the print and push down on it, making you mewl.

Taerae uses his beautiful dimple smile to get many things out of you. Firstly, orgasm. “You think you can give me one more, pretty?” he would tilt his head and flash a smile and who were u to say no?? Secondly, literally anything else. One smile and youre whipped.

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As for Hanbin, i strongly agree that he would pull all of your body weight down on his face. He loves being suffocated by your thighs!! “I want you to be able to breathe, Bin!” you would get so flustered. “Just want your warm pussy directly over my mouth, babe. C’mere” the second you hover over him, you feel his tongue on you. he is also very skilled, making you cum in his mouth repeatedly. He loves when you end up grinding on his tongue, using him to reach your high.

“Fuck, Hanbin” your hand is tangled in his soft locks as your hips roll on his face. He might cum in his pants from that sight alone. By the time he’s done with you, your mind would be cloudy and you’d talk nonsense. Hanbin finds you so cute (he def eat you out until youre stupid when you have a bad day, service bf !!!!! )

[teddypickerry]

here me out! how about like a reader x tommy (the real one, not megan fox’s rat looking bf), but like reader is butterflies and rainbows, and like the band will not stop mocking how soft tommy is for reader. like ofc take your time.

𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 !

pairings! tommy lee x soft reader <3

word count! 1.9k

warnings! cursing, mentions of sex, it’s a fucking mötley crüe fic babe what do you expect?

a/n! okay i had to write this like five fucking seconds after i got it bc 1) calling mgk megan’s rat looking bf made me fall in love w you 2) THIS REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF MY BEST FRIEND AND HER LOVE FOR TOMMY. so i used her favvvvorite photo of t-bone and am dedicating this to her <3 muah. the tommy to my nikki. ALSO THIS IS UNEDITED SO IF IT SUCKS THEN FUCK YOU ;)

tommy lee bass was never good with girlfriends. with the mötley timeline, he had bullwinkle and honey. and if you know anything about either of them... you know he doesn't have the best track record. he was with both of them for all the wrong reasons. bullwinkle came like a track star which purely excited him. and honey had the body of a pornstar. but their relationship had its ups and downs... a butter knife in his back, an engagement, her cheating with his best friend, and ending with him slapping her. so... maybe he wasn't the best with relationships.

tommy loved for all the wrong reasons. it wasn't because of the rockstar persona or the fortune or the fame. it was simply how tommy was made and how he existed. he opened himself up to love and he loved so fucking hard with all of the t-bone's in his body. tommy's a lover, he's a romantic — even if it's in a fucked up way. so when he found y/n, a girl who set his world ablaze. the moment he saw her, he didn't just look at her boobs. he noticed the two braids in her hair. he noticed the shimmer eyeshadow that just made her eyes glimmer. she was beautiful and not just for her body or for specific talents. she was beautiful for her outlook on life that tommy learned to love, one quite positive formed with a smile.

it'd been two months since tommy'd met his new and improved lover girl. he'd not once had the urge to cheat on the girl or even have the thought. he was indulged with her choice of books over parties or her excessive bright wardrobe. she was unconditionally herself. and he was fucking head over heels for that. y/n had yet to meet the band, despite the long relationship (in tommy's book). it was safe to say she was stressing about it. they were a bunch of dickwads according to all the magazines and tommy. but he loved them and they were his best fucking friends.

so she tugged on her pink sweater that tucked into her jeans. her white tennis shoes pacing back and forth while she waited for tommy in the foyer of his new apartment. decked floor to ceiling in animal prints of all sorts and records hes never bothered to play. she was anxious and it showed. it was a lot meeting her boyfriend's best friends who were also his band mates. he spoke about them with the goofiest grin and had the dumbest stories. just yesterday he'd told her about last year when he and nikki were so high they jumped on a train and then had to jump off a mile or so later. resulting in a very long walk back to the hotel.

his band wasn't just his band mates they were practically family and we've all heard the girlfriend meeting the family horror stories. the sound of his mismatched red and black converse hitting the floor was unheard as y/n messed with her hair in the mirror next to the door. tommy swung the keys to his new ferrari on his finger as he watched her for a moment. before bursting into a brief smile. "dude, you look fucking great. stop worrying."

"babe, stop 'dude'ing me." y/n giggled as she turned to him with her smile that made her dimples pop. he pressed his lips together as he made his way past her, brushing her head with a kiss as he opened the door with one hand. it wasn't long before the couple was out the door and in the seats of the ferrari.

the car ride was short to vince's place. the singer was throwing a little day party — hardly a party, rather a band meeting, but anything with mötley turned into a party. the little party was also a reason for the boys to meet y/n which they all looked forward to. it was rare any of them were not so focused on themselves to care about the other's love life. but this time was different, or at least so it seemed to them. tommy had a new "love of his life" every week. you could say it was the same ol' situation.  but they - specifically mick, had a feeling about this one. one that was solidified the moment the couple made their way to the front door.

hands intertwined between the rockstar and the angel as they approached the entry way. tommy glanced down at his girlfriend with a smile when he noticed the look on her face. the one she had just a few weeks ago when she was preparing for an interview at a bookstore she's been eyeing for awhile. y/n aced the interview and she would ace this. "don't be so nervous, you're too pretty for that." the drummer winked making his girlfriend give him a look. "will you shut up, please?"

"i agree with the chick," a voice sounded from the doorway making the young couple turn their heads. stood in all his glory was the singer himself, vince neil. he had a bandana tied around his neck which covered his slightly sunburn chest. he was in leather pants despite the mere 80s of LA. "dude, we didn't even knock."

"yeah but i saw a pretty girl out my window so y'know." vince shrugged it off with a smirk at the girl. tommy furrowed his eyebrows as he held up the two intertwined hands. "yeah, we'll, she's taken."

"ne'vah stupd anee id us befu." a voice mumbled as another rocker made his way to the doorway. one presumably known as nikki sixx. a toothbrush was in his mouth, white toothpaste spilling out the corners. the couple gave the man confused glances as he rolled his eyes and spat in the grass. "never stopped any of us before — hi, darling, i'm nikki." he put his hand forward with the cock of his eyebrow. y/n shook his hand and smiled, "i'm y/n. it's nice to meet you guys."

"the infamous y/n," vince purred as he glanced back at tommy as if complimenting his 'women' skills. "yeah well don't get any fucking ideas — im talking to you, fiancée fucker!" tommy announced towards the bassist who simply raised his hands in defense before passing out on the couch next to mick mars. vince stepped aside as the couple entered. tommy refused to let go of his girlfriend which the band was quick to notice. "y/n/n, this is the guys i guess. nikki — y'know, vince, and this old tombstone is mick."

"hi," the two greeted to another simultaneously. tommy sat on the couch with y/n following, her thigh pressed against his as she sat anxiously. she'd yet to see drugs or naked women like she'd anticipated. so far just dudes in a room with a far too expensive sound system. the silence was echoing in the large LA home. nikki stretched out as he watched y/n with daring eyes, tommy not even wanting to know what was trapped in this thoughts. mick too was watching the girl but rather in confusion. she seemed normal, so why was she with the dumbest motherfucker he knew? vince sat down last, a glass of something in his hand as he sat at the edge of the couch. he eyed tommy who was mouthing something at him.

"so y/n," mick started as he blinked behind his sunglasses. "why this one?" the guitarist asked with such simplicity that made nikki burst into a deep laughter, resulting in a glare from tommy. "will you guys shut the fuck up for once?" he shrugged when he glanced back at the toothbrush nikki had on his chest. "wait- why are you brushing your teeth at like four?"

"went down on this girl, she was on her period, man." nikki shrugged as if it was the most normal thing ever. no one seemed phased minus y/n, who genuinly had never heard someone shrug something that criminal off that way. it wasn't long before the questions got dumber and dumber — which seemed impossible with the ones they asked, but they did. and y/n lasted no more than ten minutes with the band before she ventured off into the kitchen where the other girls were sat around. all arguing over who was better in bed — mötley boys or guns and roses boys. she drowned out the conversation after a short blonde asked her how many rockstars she'd slept with. when she answered with one, they went ballistic.

"slash is too full of himself, tommy knows what he's doing." one of the girls giggled before taking a bite of a pretzel and spitting it out as if she'd die. "tommy's great," another one added, a redhead. a few giggled as one of them uncomfortably sat there with a fucked up smile. "guys, tommy's dating this one." y/n froze as she sipped on her water. they all looked at her and giggled as if it were impossible, because tommy would never settle in their eyes. he's tommy lee.

"excuse me," she mumbled as she stood up and made her way out of the kitchen, nearly falling into the arms of her boyfriend in the process. he stood in the hallway with an empty glass on his way for a refill. he placed it on vince's table when he noticed his girlfriend's face. "what's going on?"

"tommy you've fucked like every girl in that room." she mustered up, her smile gone. it was a rare sight to see her without her big and beautiful grin. the world was sunshine and rainbows in her eyes but it was like thunder in a rainstorm right now. "they're all talking about if you or slash are better in bed. it's just... look i know you have a past and you're done with all the sleeping around now. but, i just couldn't listen to it anymore. they laughed when one of them said i was your girl. like it was insane."

the drummer's face softened as he placed his finger under her chin, lifting it up to be directly in his eyesight. "those groupies are wild, y/n. they'll fuck anyone to tour with us so they think they know all. but no one knows how i feel 'bout you, because i'm fucking wild for you baby." he pressed his lips against hers as her eyes shut on demand. his kiss was soft and genuine and he threw in a little tongue — the tommy way of course. it wasn't long before she pulled away, not wanting to have a full on makeout session in his friend's house. her smile was back on an instant as she glanced up at the man with her pink lips. tommy mirrored the expression as he wrapped his arms around her. "baby, let go. i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

"'m 'kay. don't leave me for too long," he blew her a kiss as she walked off into the bathroom and shut the door. the moment he heard voices he cursed to himself. "oh baby, i'd never leave you for too long." vince mimicked in a sexy voice as nikki threw a heart with his fingers and shot it at his best friend. mick pursed his lips and blew a kiss at the drummer. "oh, baby."

"you're fucking dead." the drummer groaned before chasing the three men out of the house, like fucking mötley crüe man.

[shigaeru]

Do you have any of your own ACI headcanons?

Not many! But I like that they're both unreliable narrators and that a lot of things are implied, so some of my interpretations could be considered headcanons? See under the cut

I like to think that the moment Izaya realizes he's in love (and he's been in love with Shizuo for a long time) is at the end of chapter 15. When Shizuo saves him and Izaya have a little breakdown because he didn't know he was capable of THIS. Maybe it's my non native english speaking ass, but to me "this" doesn't refer to anything explicit, it's not about the physical sensation. It's a sort of continuation of his thoughts in chapter 7 when goes "my love's always been grand and all encompassing, it was never directed toward One Individual, but now I've broken my principle, I can't love Broadly like that anymore, what else does that mean for me?"

To me it's "he didn't even know he was capable of Having These Feelings" and "oh god of fucjk these feelings are called having a crush" and "wait how long has it been there what the fuck"

In the body pile, Shizuo sees a watch and suddenly feels very sick, and I find it funny that the Only other mention of a watch was when Mura showed them his watch to bargain. I like to think that Shizuo thinks it's Mura in that pile, and even if he didn't like him, knowing he's walking on the corpse of a man he talked to only a few hours prior makes the situation Very Real and horrifying.

Izaya is so very touch starved actually and I think they should hold hands a little more than ONCE in the entire fic. After the 48 hours have passed and they're walking next to each other and Izaya's hand keep brushing against Shizuo's. In the cave when he's sick. When're they're rescuing people and talking about that date at Russia sushi.

Other than that, it's my usual shizaya hc that have traveled to aci. dimpled izaya AND shizuo (izaya has one on each cheek, shizuo only has one close to his mouth). trans izaya (the numerous dick jokes? he's compensating). There are others you'll probably see in the comic bc my hc influence the way I portray things, but there are not so much headcanons as artistic liberties at this point lmao