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i-loved-silly · 3 days ago

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WAIT, IDEA. imagine mud x gn reader...BUT THE READER IS ALMOST JUST LIKE HIM. like, professional assassin, cocky and well-dressed,,, the SHENANIGANS the two would go through heheheehheh,,,,,,,,,,,,,

omgomgg these are my favorite headcanons. I NEED HIM SO BAF! I could have kept going on and on for this request. tysm :3

MUD X READER WITH SIMILAR PERSONALITY

Mud is used to being the slippery one in the room, at all times. He's sneaky, mischievous, and USUALLY no one notices him when he's doing his stuff. So when he first sees you -- almost a reflection of himself -- it's thrilling in a way. You know your way around with weapons and you know it, dressed like you've got a job to complete, and you're a quick thinker. He's already thinking about how good you'd look as a couple.

One-upping eachother and banter is a love language between you two. He especially loves the banter. However, he WILL be grumbling if you steal his kill. He'll act unimpressed that you acted before he did, shoving down your gun with one hand and aiming with his to take your spot, ignoring your scowl.

"Careful now, hun. Ya' keep showin' off like that, and I'll start gettin' jealous. This one's mine."

Like I said, constant one-upping. You're constantly stealing each other's kills before the other, cussing each other out. Threatening each other over small things. (never acting upon them) If it takes you three shots to hit someone? He'll try to do it in two. With his eyes shut. You see him steal a couple of wallets from the rotlings in the shop? You steal them right out of his pocket again and wave them in his face.

"Keep up, Muddy. You're getting too easy."

"Wha--!? You slippery bastard.."

"Love you too!"

To others your relationship looks a bit conflicting and probably toxic. Maybe sometimes...but I swear you two love each other. It's a bit more fun when you both are doing risky things together for the sake of it.

PDA is basically borderline abusive LMAO. You both insist you aren't going soft, but have to let people know how to not make any moves somehow. He'll be talking and pulling an arm around your shoulder, suddenly pulling you close. You slam into his side and he has the NERVE to ruffle your hair with the bone of his fingers. You'll elbow him right in the ribs for it, to which he busts out laughing.

"Ya' really know how to make a fella feel loved," as he's wheezing.

Ooooo and if you're all dressed up? He loves that about you. The Gaslight District may be nasty but he can always appreciate a good outfit. If he particularly likes your outfit or you're wearing something new (polished shoes, clean coat, shiny pistol,etc) his jaw literally drops. His cig nearly slips out onto the floor while he gives you the slowest once-over, whistling low. He tips his little stupid (<3) hat and approaches you as if he's never seen you before.

"Well aren't you lookin' dapper. I'd marry ya' right now if I didn't think you'd shoot me for askin'."

When you two are behind closed doors, things get toned down a bit. In small moments, the relationship is still playful. You're both sitting together, you'll throw your tired legs over his lap and he'll groan about it, even as he settles his palm against your calf. He'll do the same to you another day, you threaten to break his knees. He dares you. You grumble and look away, both of you looking more domestic than you ever have while sharing that cramped old couch.

Finally!! On missions, the two of you are professional. Deadly pair, if your playfulness doesn't get ahead of you. You'll constantly be yelled at by Ken if you two are messing around, foolishly shooting everywhere while yelling at each other. And yet, he does a great job of protecting you. If anyone messes with you, his gun is already raised before you have the chance to pull out yours. Yeah, you can take care of yourself AND him, but he wants to be the one to put a bullet through their skull first. Isn't he so dreamy!!

He also swoons at the sight of you covered in purple blood to be honest. How could he not be a little freak? Kissing you after a good mission, still covered in grime and blood, just hits different.

#x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #gaslight district #gaslight district x reader #mud gaslight district #mud x reader #tgd #tgd mud #tgd x reader

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olderthannetfic · 2 days ago

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Hey, so I know this is probably something that not many can relate, but I wanted to ask here anyways:

How do you guys do to not feel alone or lonely in fandoms? I'm not mostly active in a small one and almost all of us know each other, but yet seems like I'm an outcast. When I hear that most of the members are DMing one another or creating little creative groups and yet somehow no one tries to dm me and brainstorm ideas... or when some of them have called me their friends yet I try to keep contat and the friendship going and it feels like I'm just being pushy or stupid for trying.

Is funny, because in a way it was some of my fics that rebuilt the community around this fandom, and still it feels like I'm here to churn out fics and that's it. All the fandom interaction I get is minimal and seems like a chore to the others. I haven't felt this alone in fandom communities in the past.

Maybe it's how modern fandom is and I'm being nostalgic for the fandom experience of a decade ago, or maybe it's my brain being stupid. But yeah, just, what do you guys do if you ever feel lonely in fandom spaces? Could use the help. Also, love the blog. Have a nice day :)

Okay, first, one hundred percent, your brain is being stupid. I'm having a bad brain day today myself. There could also be some other stuff going on, but let's be real: your brain is being stupid. Not feeling lonely is at least half about general mental health management.

I don't think fandom is necessarily always lonely now. I do find that I've done a bad job of cultivating close friendships lately. I'm trying to finish up some projects, and my kid is entering a phase where it's hard to go to events. I think it's very easy to not have enough energy to make social things happen. It's also easy to not remember how much effort one put in in the past or to not have noticed at the time since one was in a more energetic, excited phase or happened to be in some situation where one ran into potential friends without trying (school or the like).

Now, it sounds like you're already putting in some work trying to connect with people. That's good. That's a necessary, though not always sufficient, step. It's hard to tell from the outside whether other people find it a chore. I'd guess that's more your brain sabotaging you than reality.

I think there's a strong possibility that these DMs you aren't privy to are less awesome than you think. People tend to assume everyone around them is doing better—better than those other people actually are and better than themselves. They seem okay on the surface! They must have their shit together, unlike me! (Spoiler: they probably don't.)

It's certainly possible that you're great at fic but much less good at conversation. If the things you want to chat about just don't mesh well with these other people's style, a DM conversation will grind to a halt. I can give the usual advice about being genuinely interested in others and remembering to ask about them, but it's totally possible there's just a natural mismatch that can't be fixed. It's also possible they all hang out on some discord together that sparks the DM conversations, but you don't like discord and thus aren't there when the conversations break off like that. Substitute twitter or zoom or whatever other divisive format as applicable.

I suppose the times I've really had a good connection discussing meta thoughts on some character or canon have been when I had a beta or someone I was brainstorming with. When you post fics, perhaps you could add a note that you're looking for someone like that, or you could offer to beta for others.

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fictoweirdoesten · 2 days ago

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How the lad's guys would deal with a split reader ♡ (Sylus, Rafayel, Caleb)

cw: gn! reader (for caleb, it's heavily implied reader is small and afab! sorry, had to self insert a bit!). bpd/splitting/disorganized attachment episode. informal writing(?). there's angst but there's also fluff I promsie. caleb is a bit freaky at the end. use of petnames (sweetie, kitten, cutie, pips, baby).

a/n: I'm kinda tired of warning those who I get too close to about my splitting episodes and possible bpd and their response always being, "Oh yeah I can handle it! I won't leave you" and then they grow distant as soon as the mood swings begin :) it's a waste of time and energy for me and I'd rather just not be friends with anyone anymore for their and my sake. So...this is a cope, self-indulgent fic for me, but I wanted this to be as inclusive as possible for anyone else going through the same things I am. I tried to include all the different reasons for splitting I could think of/personally went through (Abandonment, Envy, Self-Worth)

Lack of Zayne and Xavier because I don't see them being able to handle an unstable reader...sorry. If you're a Zayne/Xavier girly though I'm sure he'd absolutely love and adore you ♡ I just have a hard time envisioning it.

rafayel's is kinda short and caleb's is kinda long I'm sorry-

🐦‍⬛ Poor, Poor Sylus. He just had to be busy the entire week, too busy to spend time with his clingy 'kitten'.

🐦‍⬛ You walk up to Sylus in his office, watching him type away on the desktop keyboard. Your chest starts to tighten, knowing the response that he'll give you, but you hope you're proven wrong today.

🐦‍⬛ "Sylus, could we-" "Sorry sweetie, but I'm very busy right now."

🐦‍⬛ You try to hide your insecurities from Sylus as you nod and walk off, but he could tell something was off when you didn't persist like you usually would, but he decided not to bring it up.

🐦‍⬛ Poor, Poor Sylus...

🐦‍⬛ It's been 2 days since then, and you've only been texting him one or two words. You always come and visit him but now? Nowhere to be seen.

🐦‍⬛ He starts to wonder what he's done wrong...so, he takes action right away. $1000 + funds suddenly added to your account, your favorite coffee spot delivered to you as soon as you wake up, flowers delivered to your door...

🐦‍⬛ Your response? "I'm tired of you buying things and expecting me to forgive you!" You hang up, and he sits absolutely perplexed, staring at his phone.

🐦‍⬛ The twins spot their boss with an expression they rarely ever see, so they ask him what's wrong.

🐦‍⬛ "She suddenly grew distant from you?" "Maybe she's got that uh, 'BPD' thing?"

🐦‍⬛ "BPD?" Sylus pondered, and he soon got to work on his laptop, looking up everything he needed to know about the disorder. It was never confirmed that you were even diagnosed with it...but he was desperate for an answer, so why not?

🐦‍⬛ He could also just...ask, but he didn't want to bother you any further for the day (that's his excuse anyway).

🐦‍⬛ Sylus shows up at your door at midnight, and as he studies your blank expression before walking inside. He pats the space next to him on the couch, beckoning you to sit.

🐦‍⬛ "Is your recent behavior towards me because I haven't been spending time with you lately," Sylus asks, making sure not to seem judgemental or exhausted when he asks. You reluctantly nod, and he lets out a hum, suddenly wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

🐦‍⬛ "Well, just so you know, I don't hate you. I'm just incredibly busy, and I'm sorry if I've come across as distant." You shake your head, nuzzling against his arm as you mumble your own apology.

🐦‍⬛ "No need kitten. Let's just come up with a compromise. Oh and, promise me the next time I offend you somehow, let me know."

🐠 You think this fishy doesn't understand your self-destructive tendencies? Honestly the two of you probably, definitely shouldn't be a couple, but it's the clear communication and respect that keeps your relationship from falling apart.

🐠 So when you're suddenly distant from him after the art exhibit, he's quickly pestering you with as many questions as possible to figure out what's wrong.

🐠 "Was I too far away from you?" "Did I not pay attention to you as much?" "Did you misinterpret something that I said?"

🐠 You glance away from him, shaking your head. He pouts, staring at you in complete silence until a light bulb goes off.

🐠 "Is it...because of her?" You freeze. Bullseye. Rafayel sighs, his hand lightly banging his head as he fakes being distraught.

🐠 "After all this time! This cutie still insists that I have my eyes on other fish in the sea!" He lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Honestly!"

🐠 You can't help but giggle at his antics, realizing that you were (probably) worrying over nothing once again. He squeezes and tugs at your cheeks, puckering his lips and making kissy faces at you.

🐠 "Glub Glub! This little fishie is absolutely infatuated with you! That silly woman from earlier thought she could ever compare to you. What a fool I say! Glub Glub!"

🐠 You can't help but burst into a fit of laughter then. Rafayel smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rests his head on top of yours.

🐠 "I love you, cutie. You and only you."

🍎 Of course he's aware of his cute little pip's mood swings. How one little thing he does can change your whole opinion about him. He never wants you to suddenly think he's the worst human ever, that he doesn't care for you, that he doesn't love you. He tries his hardest to reassure you everyday, to flower you in kisses and hugs when he can, but sometimes even that isn't enough.

🍎 He made a mistake. A mistake he'll curse himself for years to come.

🍎 He was lying on the couch, scrolling through social media on his phone. You walk towards him, leaning down, getting ready to kiss his forehead...when you see it, when you both see it:

🍎 A woman in a one-piece body suit. Quite curvy, small waist, pretty face, the usual.

🍎 Caleb grimaces at the picture, not at all attracted to the woman and continues to scroll. But you...you suddenly moved away from him, not bothering to finish your kiss as you walked straight to the room, closing the door.

🍎 Caleb heard the slam, heard the aggression behind it, and he quickly got up and knocked on your door to come check up on you. When you don't respond, he lets himself in, hoping you'll forgive him for it later.

🍎"Hey, you alright in there pip-"

🍎 He pauses, watching you poke and pull at your skin in front of the mirror. Your face was clearly uncomfortable, and the sight made his heart ache. Why is his favorite person looking in the mirror like that?

🍎 Caleb slowly but surely walks behind you, wrapping his arms around your chest and hugging you from behind. You grunt, grabbing at his arms to pry him away from you, but he insists in keeping his hold.

🍎 "I'm...not enough for you, Caleb. You deserve someone who is."

🍎 Caleb's grip suddenly grows tighter at your confession. He's visibly angry, not at you, but whoever hurt you enough for you to always doubt him and his love for you.

🍎 "Where did this come from? Who do I need to kill this time," he jokes, but there's truth and venom buried deep within his words. You shake your head, refusing to answer any of the questions he asks. Caleb becomes frustrated at your stubbornness, but he doesn't give up. He doesn't give up on you.

🍎 He still has you in his arms, his mind racing as he tries to trace the reason for your sudden mood swing. He suddenly lets out a gasp, and you watch as his expression changes from being tense to almost guilty as he stares back at your reflection in the mirror.

🍎 "You saw...didn't you?" He asks gently, and you slowly nod. Caleb let's out a sigh, and suddenly, carries you in his arms. He sits down on the edge of the bed with you in his lap, looking up at you with beady, pleading eyes.

🍎 "Hey, look at me." He moves his hand to your cheek, carressing it gently as he lets out a sigh, a sigh full of love and adoration. "There's no other person in this world I find more beautiful, attractive, then you. Do you understand that?"

🍎 You feel yourself blush at his words, but you still remain stubborn. He smiles at your stubbornness this time, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

🍎"I love you so much, baby, just as much as you love me yeah? I couldn't live without you. I couldn't love anyone else but you. It's impossible."

🍎 You can't help but feel teary at his words, and you nuzzle your face into the corner of his neck to hide your tears from him. He lets out a chuckle, holding you tightly. The two of you sit there for a while like that, quiet and enjoying each other's warmth and company.

🍎 Caleb inches his lips to your ear, whispering gently, "I can't control what appears on my feed pips, I'm sorry. Forgive me?" You nod, moving back slightly to get a better look at his face as you smile at him, poking at his face. He giggles, playfully biting your finger.

🍎 "If you want...I don't mind listing everything I love about you right now. I can even write an essay if that's what you want."

🍎 You laugh, calling him a goober, but he was absolutely serious. He moves his hands to your hips, picking you up once more as he walks back to the living room.

🍎 "And if you ever split on me again, I might have to lock you up and force you to listen to an audio recording of me saying 'I love you' for 24 hours straight."

🍎 You laugh, but he was dead serious about that, too.

#love and deepspace #caleb x reader #sylus x reader #rafayel x reader #bpd #splitting #disorganized attachment

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xo-zozo · 1 day ago

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avery grambs headcannons •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

a/n: please... hold your applause, i know... anyway I literally miss her so much i was gonna go cry if I didn't do this so here we are yayy. if you have any requests don't be afraid to send requests or check out my masterlist! enjoyyy

tags : @your-mommy-ems @arqbella @reminiscentreader @x-liv25-jamieswife @inmyheaddd

@alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @annamatix @lyrakanefanatic

@123letsgobestie @hathorneheiress @midiosaamor @saythewordheiress

she loves the comics in the newspaper, she grew up reading them with her mom whenever they could get their hands on them.

let's all be honest she probably likes snoopy

she genuinely enjoys going to art galleries and makes jameson take her to them (he secretly enjoys it)

she's really good at math but she doesn't like doing it

she's read like half of agatha christie's books

she used to go to coffee shops to do school work and now sometimes she'll go to one to finish work

i don't know if this makes sense or not but i feel like at some point she's the face of prada (it makes sense to me yk)

she's become pretty close with her stylists and makeup artists so every time she sees them she lets them talk about their lives that whole time that she's getting ready

i'd like to think that she does that one interview where they play with kittens

she always goes all out for her loved ones birthdays and I feel like she would always make sure libby's birthdays were really good

she tries to keep her room super clean and organized but her office is always a mess because she can never keep track of what's happening

THIS IS SO RANDOM but her and libby had a one direction phase when avery was like twelve

she has a teddy bear or some kind of stuffed animal from her childhood that she still keeps in her bed every night

jameson bases his whole self worth on tiktok filters and he makes avery try like all of them

she somehow had time to make her phone super organized and added a bunch of widgets

when her a jameson first started actually dating she didn't want anyone at school to know because half of the girls had crushes on jameson (same) but everyone found out anyway

she's the first person that libby comes to try something when she makes something new

half of the time when she's supposed to be working she's on chess.com beating everyone

my headcannons masterlist

#avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #jennifer lynn barnes #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #headcannons #the inheritance games headcannons

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erwinsvow · 2 days ago

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I need a background on wifey and pope like how they met everyone's reaction to her and stuff 😭

I yearn for them

i am SOOOOO happy you asked about this because i honestly have a million ideas and i'd love to know what you think would be the best one to use whenever i finally start writing them. my favorite trope ever is sweetheart girlfriend with the boy no one expects her to be with so i went a little berserk thinking about them. i am yearning so much i'm so glad to yearn with you. same as last time, read more since this is looong

okay SO, at first i thought maybe they meet during a job?? like if anyone has ever seen the town, when they kidnap the one teller and then let her go and ben affleck's character falls for her? like if they're taking two get away cars and wifey would just be a patron at the bank (i picture her as a nurse!) and when the storm the place and have to pick a hostage, he picked her. sometimes when i think of these things i try to imagine it like a scene from a movie, so she would be staring up at him with like wet teary eyes while he holds a gun to her head. i imagine the others would be in the vault getting the money and pope would immediately be so disarmed and lower the gun away from her because she'd be saying "please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me" and he'd go "i'm not gonna hurt you." and maybe if someone in the bank got hurt wifey would plead with pope to let her go help him, saying how she's a nurse and he might bleed out. the others would just try to keep the hostage until they get out safely but i think pope would let her help the person and she would say thank you to the literal man holding her hostage because she's a sweetheart and he'd just stand there like ? he has a mask on but she would keep looking back up at him, even when the others pour back into the room and they all have weapons so it's not like she's only worried about him.

well anyways.. i think a few weeks later, they don't hear anything about anyone dying, so the guy must have lived. and you're a nurse, so pope does pope things and becomes a little obsessed. tracks down your hospital, finds your shift. goes in with a cut on his hand and lets people get taken back before him until you come out to get him. i think he'd try and fail to be subtle, while you're bandaging his hand he asks you something like "is that guy okay?" and you'd be confused but laugh, he's a little strange but cute and generally polite so far, besides the staring. you've dealt with way worse. "what guy?" "the guy from the bank." BUUUUT here's my thing. i don't think she'd get up and call security and be scared. i think she'd know exactly who this is. so you nod, and pope's hand would tighten around your wrist, and he tells you again that he's not gonna hurt you. he just wanted to make sure that guy was okay. and then maybe he'd ask if you're okay. and i think the conversation would go something like you telling pope that he saved that man's life, and pope would say that you saved his life, and you say that if he hadn't let you help him, he would be dead. so it was both of you. and i just think that it would be the first time pope would have heard that kind of sentiment.

so you tell him to come back if the wound gets red or swollen or painful. he nods and listens to your every word like he doesn't know how to take care of cuts. and then later that week, there's a black truck outside your apartment. maybe you work weird hours, live in a bad area.. he would think himself responsible for making sure you get from the hospital to your house safely. i mean can anyone on this blog say that if pope was checking in on you like this that you wouldn't fall for him? because that is exactly what sweetheart wifey reader does, she thinks it's sweet and she thinks he's nice and she's willing to overlook the whole armed robbery hostage thing. one day he's lurking outside and then your front door opens, and you run up to his window and tap on the glass carefully.

"are you hungry? i made dinner, if you want to come up."

okay so that is one theory. another one i like is that you're in some kind of a public place and there's something going on, like someone is pulling a job or there's a shooting and you just get covered and held down until it's over and when you look up it's pope who saved you. and not for any real reason that he knows what to do in this situation and you didn't, maybe he just happened to be standing next to you. so obviously wifey would be so thankful and enamoured, like i can't remember what it's called, like when you start liking someone because they saved you? like transference. so they would start seeing each other and wifey would have such a great view of him for saving her like she would have never realized that she should maybe be scared. and also pre-prison pope, i mean we don't actually know what he was like, but my best guess is a little less hardened, maybe a tiny bit softer? and i like this idea since she would have seen the good before the bad, kind of concedes on all the rest as she finds it out since she knows how good he is. i can also imagine a really intense moment would be when he comes home to her after some job and he's covered in bruises and has like five grand in a bag and she's just like andrew? and i think he would maybe open up but in his own way, like "my family and i do bad things. are you sure you still want me here?"

also MEETING THEM!!!!! pope gets shot on a job and it's one of those where they need help but not, like, tijuana help, and craig's genius idea is like kidnap a doctor leaving the hospital but pope just hands him his phone and says to call the first number on speed dial- ohh can you imagine when wifey shows up with her little supplies and trembling head to toe because her bf is hurt!!! and she's meeting his whole family but she can't worry about that until she stops the bleeding. she gives the vibe of like making pope take a couple of shots of tequila to help the pain and then taking one herself so her hands stop shaking. and then when he's patched up they'd hug and the others would stare at each other like o_o i'm very silly unfortunately i thrive on imagining things in my head until a lovely person on this blog asks me to elaborate and then i go crazy. but wait! there's more!

baz would be concerned about how much you know. do you know about previous jobs? do you know what they do to launder the money? does he give you any money? and i think pope would be so mad at this line of questioning, like you're secretly an informant or something. i think deran would just be confused, but starts piecing things together, like how pope's been more stable, maybe works at a car place in his free time and doesn't freak out (they mentioned this in season four i think). that would be because he wants wifey to be able to say that her bf has a steady job. idk i think it's cute. craig would probably try to hit on her and after realizing that wifey is uninterested, he would think that you two must be really serious. like i appreciated how perceptive craig is in s4 of pope, i think that might hold true back then too. he'd be confused why someone like wifey is dating him but then again they all are. (because its my favorite trope! i see that anyone who is still reading this far down can sense that.)

i talked about wifey and smurf. obviously smurf would host a family dinner and tell pope that he has to invite his new friend. doesn't say girlfriend, which irritates pope, but he complies. wifey shows up in a cute sundress, with dessert, and a bottle of wine because she doesn't want to be seen as rude for coming empty-handed. sits next to pope, holds his hand under the table. he squeezes your hand while you get questioned but you don't mind, you'd do it for him. i think smurf just assumes it's not gonna last because you seem shy and easily scared, but she doesn't actually know what you and pope have, so. again, i'll leave whatever issues wifey reader has up to the reader to decide. but whatever they may be, she finds it very healing and safe to be with pope, and so in whatever way she is fixing him, he is fixing her too. that's what i think the others don't get.

okay, if you read this far, wow, thank you and i love you. i hope this made sense. if you were imagining something else please let me know i would love to (clearly) talk about it <3

#wow. issues. a lot of them. clearly #<3 #📮 asks #pope cody

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dreamlandbarnes · 2 days ago

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f1 fic recs ☆ part 2

please leave comments and kudos for the authors, and make sure to check the tags before reading. i've added the summary, word count, and rating.

disclaimer: none of these fics are mine. if your fic is on here and you want it removed, let me know!

part 1

charles leclerc / max verstappen

the world was built for two by foggystars | 20,713 words | E

“Somewhere you need to be?” Charles asks, letting something nasty leak into her voice. Max looks at her sharply as he buckles his belt. “Yes,” he says. “You know there is.” Charles stretches her arms out above her head, liking the way Max watches her with hungry eyes, like he wasn’t just inside her. “Say hello to her for me?” Max’s expression shutters. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?” * Max has a girlfriend. Charles isn’t going to let a little thing like that stop her from getting what she wants.

girl, so confusing by 140445 | 14,753 words | E

And there has always been something between her and Max. If not something—then the lack of it. They could be so much to each other—but they are not. Things bled dry from one cancelled dinner. Charles wonders if that thing between them is the fact that Max hates her. Or that Charles hates Max. Or that they both mutually hate each other. Or that Charles is seething with jealousy over the things Max got before she got them—or that there is just nothing between them. Nothing at all.

my voice in your head by liesmyth | 6,258 words | T

Only the people who know Max get to call her a bitch.

i wish you a kinder sea by leafycats | 8,012 words | E

It’s… shockingly tender, is what it is. It’s true that: they are not enemies (they are rivals, it’s a big difference, Charles knows), they have talked more the past six months than that they have in twelve years, and that Max is not a person Charles minds hanging out with. But: they are not friends, let alone close friends. And surely this is something you only do with the people closest to you? Ask her to put your hair into a ponytail? After waiting outside her favorite night club? Max is bold, she’ll give Max that. Maybe that’s why she agreed?

i'd sing you a morning golden and new by racingline | 66,297 words | E

Max thinks, sometimes, he might have known before Charles did. He thinks it was difficult not to know. Charles has a miscarriage. They don't talk about it.

remember me love, when i'm reborn by racingline | 68,081 words | E

Charles is pregnant with Max's baby, and then one day he's not anymore. They don't talk about it.

i'm having your baby (it's none of your business) by luminousmoon (foggystars) | 11,688 words | E

“Maybe my pill failed,” Charles says, frowning down at the positive test in his hands, wondering if Max is buying his act. “I do not know how, though. I take it at the same time every morning,” he lies. He glances up at Max, and catches what he swears is a flash of guilt across his face. It clears quickly though, when Max says, “Maybe. Or perhaps the condom broke.” Charles thinks instantly of the tiny push-pin he keeps in the drawer of his bedside table, the one he’s been using to poke holes in Max’s stash of condoms for nearly three months at this point. His chest tightens. “Yes,” he says. “Could be.” * Charles and Max attempt to baby-trap each other.

you give me guilty pleasure by champagnechase | 23,907 words | E

“Is this all it takes then?” Max asks, instantly snatching the cherry floating on top of her drink. Charles stares resolutely into her eyes, refusing to watch the way Max’s lips wrap around the stem. “Your first race win in three years is all it takes for you to start outwardly flirting with me?” Charles’s nose wrinkles, her face screwed up into something between disdain and confusion. She snags her straw between her teeth and takes a long drink to stop the first thought that jumped to the tip of her tongue. “I am not flirting.” -- Charles isn't gay. At least, she doesn't think she is until Max kisses her.

sail on, silver girl by foggystars | 3,089 words | E

‘First Monégasque woman to win Monaco’ doesn't have quite the same ring to it as first woman to win Monaco, the way it’s always sounded in Charles’ dreams, but Charles will take it regardless. She doesn’t have it in her to be angry with Max for taking that away, along with all the other firsts Charles had once hoped to claim for herself. Not when the firm press of Max’s thigh between her own is the only thing keeping Charles chained to the earth right now.

headwind by antspaul | 7,000 words | E

Charles has always known who to be around Max.

higher dose by 140445 | 21,352 words | T

Charles went through every single note of the surgery, claiming that Max could be restored to his former self with the proper treatment and care—and that’s why Charles took on the case. He doesn’t like hopeless, but he likes when it cuts close.

the burning from within by weiwuxian (BreathOfDream) | 8,001 words | M

Charles throws up in the bathroom the morning he wins the 2026 championship.

oui chef by actparci | 16,221 words | Gen

There’s someone standing in his kitchen. He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here. Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is; “Who the fuck are you?” “Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” Or: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos. Except, maybe he does.

freed from desire by weiwuxian (BreathOfDream) | 21,243 words | E

There are still—those moments. Where Charles is having fun, having a little distraction, a little new friend to play with, and then looks at Max and sees something hungry in her eyes that makes her shiver. They’re friends and they’re not. Something not quite there and might never be. It’s summer anyway, who cares?

purpose in you by charlescoded | 22,758 words | E

For a dizzying moment, Charles wonders what he looks like to Max. Dressed in fading white to Max’s eternal black, bathed in the shadow Max casts over Charles in contrast to the golden halo of his husband’s hair. The layered wedding dress pooled around them, head tilted upwards, lips parted, like he’s ready to say a prayer. Ready to receive Max’s blessing. Waiting for Max to give him purpose. To guide him.

maximumspeed is live! by cryystal_m00n | 8,000 words | M

maximumspeed is live! crafting and meowing! building another cat sanctuary 😺 come join! (or, they are each other's biggest fan and also they're falling in love via stan twt)

(i love you) it's ruining my life by NicoleDilona | 34,620 words | E

“Let’s recap then- You admit that you and Charles Leclerc have been involved in a sexual relationship for the past two years. You describe this as a ‘long-term, exclusive, friends with benefits’ arrangement, in which you estimate you usually sleep with him at least twice a week. Oh, and in your own words, it’s 'complicated'. Does that cover everything you want to tell me Max?” “Oh for fuck’s sake- yes, Gemma, that’s everything. Now will you please tell me what the fuck is going on?" “I will, but I have one last question...When did you and Charles film the sex tape?” . . or: Max and Charles’ sex tape is leaked to the paddock. The violation of privacy is almost as terrible as the way it forces them to confront their feelings.

last christmas by 140445 | 18,200 words | M

That’s what Charles needs to remember, that’s why he does this, for the fun, the injuries, late night hot tub stories, failed festive meals. Most of them graduate next year. There won’t be another trip like this, with the people who make it worth it. Charles wouldn’t let Max take that away from him. They’ve taken enough from each other. OR: Exes on the trip they booked before breaking up.

spit us out reborn by linearity | 31,500 words | T

Max Verstappen is Charles Leclerc's best-kept secret.

carlos sainz jr / oscar piastri

rosetta stone by crescenteluce | 7,480 words | E

Maybe it’s just Carlos’s competitive nature at play here, mistaking a desire to win for–desire.

metaphysical solipsism by crescenteluce | 3,528 words | T

Alex woke up in an unfamiliar bed. The cover sheet was dark red instead of muddy beige and when he reached for the phone on his nightstand, he didn’t recognise the lock screen.

in theory i should despise you by wisteriagoesvroom (bobaheadshark) | 11,186 words | E

Snowflakes begin dusting Carlos’s fringe, that blasted fringe that always falls effortlessly well regardless of whatever nefarious acts he might’ve been up to the night before. It makes Carlos look like some guy who walked out of a Christmas storybook, except he’s currently very annoyed and standing in front of Oscar’s shoebox apartment. “What? I’m an EA,” Oscar says. “I’m perfectly replaceable.” “My god, you are still not getting it,” Carlos says. “Getting what.” “You are unbelievable.” ---- Or, in which Carlos is a private banker, Oscar is his exec assistant, and Oscar finally quits.

a summer kind of heat by antimonyandthyme | 4,167 words | T

Nice is only a 27 minute train ride from here. About as close as the beach what, Carlos typed back dumbly. you want to go to Nice? Could be nice, Oscar said. Aw, hell. That was actually pretty funny. No one was around to see, but Carlos buried his mouth in his hand. He was being so soft, and there were too many people who would have a thing or two to say about that.

at the starting line by seasidefae | 3,397 words | Gen

Carlos is an F1 driver, Oscar is an architect, and meet cutes occur.

i've built my dreams around you by tiredwishes | 6,221 words | Gen

“You already have an angel back home?” Carlos frowns, unfairly adorable in his confusion. “No.” Oscar says. “Well, I was just thinking of printing your face on a sheet of paper and smacking it at the top of the tree. So yeah, I guess I already have an angel back home.” Carlos sneezes. “Even if that angel is a snotty mess and isn’t back home where he should be.” — Carlos has many dreams when it comes to Christmas, Oscar only has one.

george russell / max verstappen

standing at your door by buildyourfences | 27,689 words | E

“Alright there, mate?” George waves him off without looking up. “Fine, yeah. It’ll pass, it always does.” “Have you been having a problem for a while?” “Only the last couple weeks. Random waves of nausea, more sensitive to smells. It’s fucking annoying.” Max snorts. “You sound like my sister when she was pregnant.”

crying lightning by 140445 | 5,654 words | T

“Oh,” was all George said on his end of the line. Oh indeed. “Are these awful polos really all you wear?” George stated. “Good lord.” Max snorted. His complete disinterest in his own wardrobe was embarrassing—but George had a lot to say for someone who not only owned two pairs of capri pants, but also packed both of them for a weekend trip to Silverstone. “You took my suitcase,” George concluded then. “You took my suitcase,” Max deadpanned.

Wounded Birds by haruchimaki | 3,207 words | M

George thinks she would snap Max’s neck and call it a mercy. She didn’t think she had the patience to tend to a wounded bird.

snap out of it by 140445 | 7,177 words | M

Frequency illusion was a disease, and Max had it. Max spent twenty-five years on this earth without seeing George Russell shirtless. Twenty-five great years that ended now, because for the second time in the span of two weeks, Max saw George without a shirt on. (5 times Max struggles with George, none of them out on track.)

heaven or las vegas by cerealbowlbxtch | 3,206 words | E

Max had always thought George had more faces than she allowed others to see. The personality she showed to the media or in the cooldown room varied greatly from the one Max saw in the privacy of their hotel rooms or apartments. George’s face between her legs is only proving her point.

a minor correction by this_is_my_associate_mr_mc_clap_yo_handz | 9,136 words | Not Rated

If anyone were to suspect a secret omega on the grid, they’d probably think of Charles, or maybe Lando. No one ever suspects George.

charles leclerc / carlos sainz jr

what we felt by venerat | 14,329 words | E

Imprinted, Charles should say, shocked. I hope he is alright. He should say that. “My god,” he says instead. “On who?”

i know the end by aplacetorestmyfics | 9,953 words | M

On the bright side, it's race day. Again. (Charles wakes in his bed alone. The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix is underway. The sky is powder blue.)

hot minute by venerat | 5,542 words | E

It had been a while since she had someone to flirt with.

Eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes by raregoose | 8,444 words | E

Carlos is considering him quietly. He holds up a hand to wave to the fans, too, and then tilts his head sideways toward Charles’ shoulder to say, in his ugly Italian, “Did you like it?” “Did I like what?” Charles replies likewise in Italian. There hasn’t been much to like about this weekend. Besides being home. “Listening,” Carlos clarifies. “In Miami.”

Soul Bond by highkeyshipper | 6,249 words | T

When you turn eighteen, the initials of your soulmate appear on your skin, but only if your soulmate is eighteen too. Charles gets his mark on his eighteenth birthday. Carlos has to wait. They finally meet in 2018, at Marina Bay hotel, watching the circuit from the pool. [or: a charlos soulmate AU with their 2018 singapore first meeting]

(sharpen your teeth) sink into me by antspaul | 10,297 words | E

The first time Charles hooks up with Carlos, it’s good, and that’s the problem, actually.

can't sleep 'til I feel your touch by chiliconcarlos | 8,573 words | E

“I could...” Carlos trails off, and Charles drops his hands from his temples, looking at him curiously. “You could, what?” “...give you a hand.” He says it so casually that it takes Charles a minute to even attempt at understanding what he means. ~ ~ OR: Charles develops insomnia, and the only thing that helps is...Carlos?

i'll make you laugh by venerat | 7,007 words | E

“You are cute,” says Carlos, waving his marker in emphasis. “Obviously. I am always saying this.” “I am not cute.” Charles blinks at him. “When are you saying I am cute?”

ferrari's satisfaction survey by strwbrryfire | 764 words | Gen

who do you trust with tribute here, when you're the one betraying the opportunity to? or; ferrari and carlos on leaving.

Perennial by cosmicscudderia (thelarenttrap) | 4,878 words | E

They said they would stop. When Carlos was buckling his belt in Austin and preparing to depart Charles's room and retire to his own down the hall, they said they would stop.

to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body by luminousmoon (foggystars) | 7,087 words | E

Carlos has had enough humiliation, these past four years. Getting beaten by a fucking omega, one who has contractually agreed to lock his fucking cunt away because he’s too ruled by his instincts. Because he can’t be trusted not to spend his free time bouncing on any knot he can find instead of working to improve his driving. Carlos wants Charles’ cunt. If he can’t have… what he really wants, Carlos wants to be the first. The only one. For now, and as long as Charles remains a Ferrari driver.

charles leclerc / george russell

Forbidden Fruits by paperduck | 5,373 words | M

With the semester break nearing, George has been invited to Charles' famous estate in the countryside. It's a chance not many people get. It's curiosity of an altogether different type that compel George to accept, even if he might not be fully aware of the fact yet.

charles leclerc / lando norris

unhappening by antspaul | 10,763 words | E

“Charles. Why do you want me to drive you to an omega health clinic.” “Well,” Charles says, “it is not because I love your driving so much.”

Case File #80085 by cherrari | 10,300 words | E

There was nothing wrong with getting a boob job—absolutely nothing. But pretending like you hadn’t? That was just lame, in Lando’s opinion.

stop me if you’ve heard this one before by antspaul | words | M

Two Formula 1 drivers walk into an abortion clinic…

charles leclerc / oscar piastri

something I can sink my teeth into by saltshaken | 9,424 words | E

“I’m very sorry to even be asking you this,” Charles starts, looking uncomfortable but determined. He reaches out for Oscar’s hand again, almost unthinkingly. Oscar holds it out to him in turn without considering a single alternative. What is he supposed to do? Not give Charles Leclerc his hand when he gestures for it? Likely fuckin’ story, that. Once he steps close, Charles lets him go, hands folded demurely in his lap while looking up at him with his cartoonishly sparkling big green eyes. “But you are very sweet and kind and you smell very good and you are here—I know you have a girlfriend and you are both cute and in love, but do you think she would mind if you fucked me, just for tonight?” * Or, Charles gets drugged at the bar and goes into an unexpected pre-heat. Oscar helps.

the team game by linearity | 13,100 words | E

The first time Oscar cheated on her girlfriend, it was her second year of Formula Renault, and she told herself she wouldn’t do it again.

lewis hamilton / george russell

chapel of love by withmycalamitouslove | 3,800 words | E

Lewis desperately hopes he’s not who he thinks he is, that he’s not here to see him for his first consultation, along with his partner. But then he spots another, equally tall figure behind him, addressing him by his name. George. The same name in his diary, right next to Alexander. Fuck, he’s in so much trouble.

multi

twin high maintenance machines by Springsteen | 4,525 words | E

As they’re climbing down the steps with their trophies, Charles looks back at him, eyes bright. “You have to celebrate with us tonight,” he says. Carlos turns back, too, watching Oscar with a heavy gaze. “I – yeah, definitely," Oscar stutters. "For sure.” “Good.” Charles smiles, sharp and clever. “It’s a party.”

in the middle by nyoomfruits | 22,142 words | E

Max has Charles. And Charles has Max. And Oscar still doesn’t have a goddamn coffee table. Or, about finding your place, somewhere in the middle.

here's to all the mistakes i never made by ncr1pted | 4,957 words | E

Charles is twenty-eight–almost twenty-nine. He's not stupid either. He knows people; knows how to play them, how to get what he wants, how they act. He can recognize the starstruck look in his teammates eyes whenever he and Charles talk. The way he follows Charles around, half a step behind. He used to look at Seb that way.

terrain of incomplete hunger by luminousmoon (foggystars) | 7,894 words | E

“He’s, like.” Daniel glances around, lowers his voice. “I think he’s in pre-heat. Someone needs to look after him until I can find someone to take him home.” Carlos feels a little dazed. Charles is in pre-heat, in one of the many bedrooms in this massive apartment. It’s a wonder there isn’t a line at the door already. “Ah,” Max says, straightening up. “Yes, of course. I will go and sort him out.” With that, Max is striding off, leaving Daniel and Carlos to gape after him. * Charles goes into pre-heat at a party; Max and Carlos decide to help him out.

#f1 rpf #fic rec #lestappen #carcar #gax #charlos #charlando #choscar #rule 63 #f1 fic rec #there is... a lot of rule 63 omegaverse and mpreg on here #sry i'm definitely not tagging everything #meant to upload this in december and then i kept getting distracted and adding more to the list #1633 #5581 #1655 #1681 #russtappen #?

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wings-of-ink · 2 days ago

Text

Checking in - Author Updates - Quick Poll

Hello all! I hope you are all doing well!

I wanted to check-in. I don't have a ton to say on development, just wanted to keep you in the loop on where I am at personally since it tends to affect production speed. I also have a question for you at the bottom.

As I've posted about before, this year has brought about some challenges for me. There aren't a ton of good developments on that front, and my job is being...difficult. The (technical) good news is that I am still employed, but some days I wish I weren't. (I'd much rather be writing IFs, lol.) There is still uncertainty about the future of my job because it is at the mercy of the whims of my government. But what is more pressing currently is that my employer has opted to treat its employees worse (let me tell you, this is a feat because they've never really treated us well), by making our lives and jobs harder. I've made some "worst-case scenario" plans to prepare, so I'm just getting by one day at a time. Oh...and I also have needed to work overtime again, so that's another time suck there. Ugh. In May, I'm taking a couple days of off for me to rest.

In more recent news, I am doing physical therapy...yippy! In recent months I have struggled with my right shoulder. I assumed it was one of those "you're in your late 30s" pains, and I just dealt with it. Don't do that, by the way. I have a very bad habit of just doing with little regard for pain and discomfort. But, it got difficult to hug without pain, and nothing messes with my huggin'. We really don't know what is wrong with my shoulder/arm, but I'm doing virtual (oooh shiny) PT (not the Silent Hill variety) to hopefully correct the issue. If I don't see results, I will need expensive tests and scans. No worries currently, though, I don't think this will slow me down much at all. I can still write and I don't experience any discomfort when I do.

I'm also still working on a coding class, which is self-paced, but I'm sticking to a lesson schedule to make sure I get it done. I would really love to be able to make improvements of my own to GC or even make my own Twine Template someday.

So, in more fun development news, Chapter 6 is growing steadily. And so is Chapter 5, technically. If you missed it, check out this Tumblr ask where I talk a bit about that. The ask and answer contain some slight spoilers for Ch 5 & 6, but nothing too specific.

Chapter 5 is up by a bit over 1500 words, if you're curious, and Chapter 6 is up to over 69k words. I am wrapping up a big moment for Zahn, which might be a bit heavy. After that, there's a more fun moment, which will present a few coding challenges for me, but I'm looking forward to it. *rubs hands together like housefly*

Finally, I have a question for subscribers or those who may want to sub in the future. I find myself wondering what else to post about at times. Especially when I have inordinately busy weeks, I just can't think of things that you may want to see other than peeks at the chapter. I sincerely wish I had more time to add more projects. I have so many ideas kicking around in my head...

So, I was wondering if you were interested in seeing things other than God-Cursed that I have worked on. These would be things that may or may not become much of anything later, so I wasn't sure if there would be much pull to see them (or if it would just be a cruel tease, lol). I have an incomplete IF that I did to help me learn Twine a couple of years ago. I used it to just get acquainted because I am very much a hands-on learner. It's a humorous and simple story (loosely) based on an actual time in my personal life. I have debated about finishing it. I have a couple of others as well where I was playing with a story idea to see how it felt. I also have a complete romance novel which I am slowly editing for publication.

Patreon, Ko-fi links if you want them.

So that's all for me. If anything big happens, I will let you know! ^_^

Take care, everyone!

~Lunan

#god cursed if #twine if #just Lunan things #author ramblin

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daysiesz · 1 day ago

Text

returned - g.h

"happy birthday!!!"

you halt at the threshold of the room, shocked at the party your friends had put together for you. balloons, confetti, coloured lights, everyone in party hats. their smiles match your own, your cheeks hurting and heart swelling with gratitude.

you cover your mouth, stunned, and say, "thank you so much, oh my," pausing only to pull avery and libby into a hug as all three of you giggle. "i love you guys, thank you thank you thank you!!"

over avery and libby's shoulders, you look each hawthorne brother in the eye as you thank them. all but one. your hawthorne brother was on a business trip, today of all days. he'd been away for almost two weeks and both of you were a mess without the other. he was fully prepared to postpone the trip when he realized it aligned with your birthday, but you refused any chance of a loss to the foundation because of you. yes, grayson wasn't here, but the entire group had found a place in your heart, and you were more than happy to spend your evening with them.

"hold on, you didn't think that was all we had up our sleeve, did you?" jameson asks with a smirk.

"jameson, no crazy stuff, i'm begging you, no bikes on the beach-" you start, just as xander throws his arm around your shoulders.

"don't worry, it's just a very special gift," he says, his expression just as suspicious as his brother's.

you look to nash for help, but he only gives you an amused smile in return. suddenly, warm hands cover your eyes as you hear libby's voice say, "i'll go get it, no peeking!!"

the next couple minutes all you can hear is the rustling of paper and stifled laughs, avery's scolding from behind you, and barely contained grumbles.

"ok, you can see now," libby announces as avery removes her hands from your eyes and you open them and let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.

there, in all his glory, was your boyfriend, trying to keep up his annoyed facade (and failing) as he looks straight into your eyes. your boyfriend, with pink and white polka dot wrapping paper wrapped around his torso and upper legs, binding his arms to his body. and to top it all off, a pink satin bow tied around his neck.

your urge to run to him was overpowered by your unending laughter as you doubled over, tears pricking at your eyes. everyone laughed with you, and even grayson couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping him. a hard "no" would've been his usual response to ideas like this, but if he could experience the pure joy on your face and your laughter ringing in his ears everyday, then he would wear this damn bow all the time.

"you guys," you say once your laughter has died down and your cheeks are filled with warmth, "are the best. please tell me you've taken photos of this."

"enough to fill an album," xander assures you as you finally walk to grayson and throw your arms around his neck.

grayson buries his face in your neck and mutters, "i'd appreciate if you unwrap me so i could hug you back."

"shhh, i'm not sure birthday presents are supposed to talk."

you step away and are presented with a scissor to cut through the multiple layers of wrapping paper.

"y'know, if i didn't know you guys better, i'd think you actually enjoyed this," you joke as you cut through the paper, only to find more under it.

"enjoy tormenting gray and putting a bow on him? never," jameson states dramatically, hand on his chest.

"and how are you here this early anyway?"

"finished work as soon as i could and got here this afternoon," grayson explains, shooting jameson a glare over your head.

after about seven minutes of teasing (and photos), only a couple more layers were left, and grayson's patience finally wanes. he rips off the remaining paper and frees his arms, immediately enveloping you in them, hugging you properly this time.

"there we go," he mumbles as he buries his face in your hair and his thumbs rub small circles at your hips. you sigh happily, holding him close and allowing yourself to bask in his presence, as the others leave the room to get the cake.

"i think this is your best look yet," you declare, pulling back just enough to see his face. the adoring look in his eyes almost makes you melt.

"i love you so much, it's disgusting. i'm afraid i can't help but turn into a pink, polka-dotted abomination," grayson jokes, making you dissolve into laughter again with the dry sense of humour he only uses around you.

you pull him closer by his bow and kiss him, letting all the love nestled inside you pour into him. he places one hand on your jaw and caresses your cheek, as if you were the most treasured being in his life.

as you pull away you mutter, "i love you. keep the bow on."

a/n: what possessed me to write this i do not know, but that's truly not the point. thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged my first post!! i appreciate it, and i'm glad other people can enjoy the scenarios that rot my brain too ♡

#the inheritance games #tig #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x you #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the hawthorne brothers #the final gambit #grayson x reader #grayson hawthorne imagine #grayson hawthorne fic

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candiyaa · 2 days ago

Note

You haven't posted since over a month so I have no idea when you'll see this, but I read through your page and really like what you write.

May I request Kokushibo, Akaza and Obanai with a fem s/o that's tall, muscular and physically stronger than them? I'd love to see what you do with this.

OH MY DAYSS STOPP thank you so much you don't know how much these words mean to me I'm really glad my work is appreciated also I really really REALLYYY do apologize for my absence as I said I don't know yet how to properly balance school and other activities like that but I promise I'm trying lol 😭 Also LOVEEE the idea thank you for requesting it and I hope y'all will like it !!!

KNY MEN with a s/o that's taller and physically stronger than them

Pairing : Obanai ; Akaza and Kokushibo x fem! reader

CONTENT WARNING ❤ : None I believe ?

AKAZA 𝜗𝜚🍒ᝰ.ᐟ

Your NUMBER ONE supporter ! Akaza values strength above everything else

He's thrilled to have a physically stronger s/o like you.

He likes to spar with you a lot , you actually push him to do better and he admires you for that.

He brags about you A LOTTT .

THAT man is in love , deeply in love and honors you in every way he can.

He might sneakily try to make you even more "stronger" too with all the techniques he knows and has learned over the years — not because you need it, but because he sees strength as love.

He would never tell you but having you with him rassures him. As someone who always had to fight alone and look after himself , he feels like he can finally relax and feels a sense of safety whenever you're around.

"You're… really something, you know that? When I'm with you, I don't feel like I'm losing."

"Wha-"

"Come spar with me." *quickly gets up , shifting the subject after realizing how deep his words might've sounded*

If you ever tease him abt it , he might not even react , he'd just keep the banter going , yes that's how much love he has in store for you.

No jealousy or shattered pride , he admires you more than anything and feels very lucky to have you by his side.

IGURO OBANAI 🐍

SHOOK. was his first impression. You intrigued him more and more everyday and eventually , you guys ended up together.

Although in the beggining your height was indeed a hard pill to swallow , he knew he wasn't that tall but the thing is — YOU were THAT TALL. (he got jealous of your height)

Got pride wounded. He started climbing trees more often when you guys were outside training , just so he could be above you in height. It even became an unconscious thing he did all the time.

Silly how your strength didn't seem to bother him that much , in fact he had already been admiring you from afar even before you guys started talking. Your height really was genuinely ONLY what irked him a bit.

Being known as one of the hardest Hashira to talk to was definitely starting to show in many ways , with random humorous yet insecurity-like moments like this :

"Stop doing that at once !"

"What but I'm not doing anything ? *you genuinely just standing in front of him*

You're literaly in my face right now , like really close ! I see that you're tall , you don't need to remind me by doing that !

"But Obi I'm genuinely just standing-" *climbs to a nearby tree*

"Hmmpf.. yeah.. whatever you say.." *realizes he was being childish and does the spiderman kiss on you from his tree , muttering a small apology*

Kaburamaru is like this all the time : 🍿👀, never missing a second fr.

Also, you better not tease him abt it or else he'll just glare at you and won't speak to you until you come to apologize.

KOKUSHIBO ⚔ 𓆩✧𓆪

Kokushibo was speechless at first and couldn't quite believe that his s/o was stronger than him , let alone taller.

He didn't feel threatened one bit by it , at first , yet it was quite.. , well ,disturbing in his eyes.

He was used to being the one and almighty Upper Moon One , the Supreme Moon at that. Strength was his pride , so having his s/o not needing his help in that area made him feel like he wasn't really useful in the relationship.

He would try to help you lift things or assist you with any tasks but it always led to uncomfy and awkward situations like this :

"Wait , let me help you with that-.. *you lifting the furniture with ease*

I see.. I shall not interfere then.."

Although he tried to hide it , after some time , it started to gnaw at him and his pride got slightly wounded.

He started subtly show off whenever he trained or sparred with you (never to the point of hurting you physically ofc )

It turned into an everyday subtle competition of "Who's the strongest here"

After a while , he did realize that his behavior was childish and of no use. And simply began to admire your strength more than ever.

You actually pushed him to do better and stay at his best , why would he ever complain ?

At the end of the day , you're still and always will be his "remarkable s/o whom he loves very dearly" (I NEED THAT MANNN OKAYY)

Though just like Obanai , you better NOT tease him abt any of it , unless you wish to experience the world's longest silent treatment and trust me you don't want that..

⋆˚✿˖° Hiii hope you guys liked that one !! Once again I apologize for all the possible grammar mistakes and please give me time 😭 I went through all the requests and am actually working on them so dw if I haven't uploaded yours yet !! xoxo ⋆˚✿˖°

#obanai iguro #kny akaza #kny #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo #demon slayer akaza #akaza #akaza kimetsu no yaiba #kny michikatsu #michikatsu tsugikuni #upper moons #demon slayer #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #obanai x reader #demon slayer obanai

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ragnarockz · 19 hours ago

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"maybe i was cruel because it was the only way to keep you at arm's length."

Tip Jar 💰

YA'LL READY FOR ANGST AGAIN?! YES? NO? TOO FUCKING BAD; YA'LL ARE GETTING IT!

Have some Agnes/Alice and Nicky and of course....you fucking know who 🙄

tw for internalized homphobia, homophobia and obviously emotional abuse and ptsd/anxiety/threats...the whole shebang because evanora of course is that motherfucker we all HATE

"Maybe I was cruel...before you came into this world because...because it was the only way to keep you at arm's length from...from her..."

Agnes whispered as she pressed her face into the side of Nicky's. He smelled fresh and powdered; clean and soft and warm against her nose and lips. She had just got done bathing him; her and Alice tag teaming bath time like they always did. Nicky loved having the both of them there as he laughed and splashed in the shallow bathtub. His little yellow rubber duck floating alongside the plastic toy boat Alice had bought him for his first birthday.

Agnes swaddled him in a fresh, clean blanket to dry him off a little more as Alice rinsed the tub and mopped up any water Nicky may have managed to splash out onto the floor. This was Agnes' favorite time of day when the three of them would wind down just after dinner and the rest of the night was usually hassle free.

It had been going hassle free until the phone in the kitchen had rung while Agnes and Alice were busy making dinner just an hour and a half ago. Alice killed the music on her CD player so Agnes could answer the phone; something Agnes was taking pride in as she had never really been allowed to do so before.

This time however, she wished she had never answered.

"Hello?"

"Agatha?"

Agnes almost swallowed her tongue as she felt all the blood in her face rush down her neck and prickle her spine. She thought she had escaped that name and that voice on the other end of the line; thought she had escaped the girl she had left behind to embrace the woman she was becoming. She didn't know if she should hang up or scream or hand the phone over to Alice.

She didn't do any of those three options.

"...Mom?"

Agnes heard her mother sigh over the phone as if she was already fed up with her daughter; something minuscule she had already done 'wrong' to sully the mood. Agnes felt her heart hammering in her chest as she whirled herself around; the cord of the phone tangling around her like a vice. Alice stared in her direction and mouthed 'what does she want?'

Agnes couldn't mouth anything back in time.

"You keep avoiding my calls. I might as well drive over there right now with all your crap...at least I'd get to see my grandson..."

"He's not your grandson. He never will be. He's nothing to you and you're nothing to him and I'm nothing to y-"

"That boy came around."

Another sinking in Agnes' chest as she almost let go of the phone in her hand. She swore the cord was tightening around her; choking her in place as she pressed the hard plastic against her ear and felt the back of her piercings digging into the side of her head.

"...what...boy?"

"Don't play stupid with me, you little slut! Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I think that child of yours was some...some immaculate conception? You're not that pure even if it was possible, Agatha! Don't you ever think for a second that I'm stupid. I know everything about you."

Agnes ripped the phone away from her ear and unwound herself from the cord that dared to choke her into unconsciousness. She slammed the phone back into the receiver and rushed away; rushed out onto the tiny balcony that overlooked the street outside. She knew it was possible that her mother could come here and barge her way in and do god knows what to her and to Nicky and even to Alice.

She knew her mother had the means and motive and opportunity; fuck, even the resources to do all of that and more. She was evil and malicious and nothing would stand in her way if it meant coming out on top.

Agnes knew all of that too well.

She leaned against the door and clutched at her sides; held her stomach like she was giving herself a hug. Her sobs choked up in her throat as she dry heaved and tried to collect herself; didn't want the street to hear her or, Nicky who was playing inside. She had to deal with this herself just like she always had; couldn't risk getting Nicky or Alice involved. She couldn't bear to lose them to Evanora too.

She decided as she collected herself; tried to stop herself from shaking in fear and anger that she would go after she and Alice bathed Nicky and put him to bed. She would tell Alice she was going to go for a quick walk or run to the gas station to grab something. She'd find a way to make it back to that fucking house to set shit straight so that her mother would no longer call and harass her or Alice or Nicky at the apartment ever again.

Never again.

Agnes was like a whirlwind; a tornado spun out of control even in its own nature as she handed Nicky off to Alice and exited the bathroom. She could hear Alice calling her as she, jogged into their bedroom to grab her bag.

"I'll be right back, Sunshine! I just...uh...gotta go grab something!"

She was out the door before Alice could ask her what that something was.

Three buses and almost a half hour walk later and Agnes was standing on the corner of the street she grew up on. Everything still looked the same, didn't feel it but it was as if this place stood still for her. She stood there for maybe another ten minutes and glanced down at herself. Second hand construction boots and ripped up cargo shorts; the orange flannel shirt she had bought that reminded her of Alice was thrown over one of Alice's band tees she had thrown on earlier that morning. It smelled like Alice. It made Agnes feel like she was at home.

And not she stood here, just a few houses down from the place she once called home even though it never, ever felt like it was. It was a house; a building. It was a roof over her head that she wished every single night would burn down. A dog barks somewhere close by and Agnes felt a chill run up her spine; her legs move as if they were made of lead.

She still has the key to the front door; of fucking course she still has it. Tethered to a place she wish she never knew. A place she knows she can and obviously has come back to; something she cannot sever as it tightens around her throat and heart and tugs her in every direction. A magnet pulling her that she cannot resist no matter how hard she tries.

She walks past the white gate past the beautiful array of her mothers' flowers planted on the front lawn. They were always beautiful, always well taken care of. Agnes wishes she could trample them all down with her big 'man' boots; kick them all up and scuff holes in the lawn. She wishes she could bend over and grab fistfuls of turf and throw it; chuck it. Make the outside of the house just as fucking ugly as the inside was and without a doubt, still is. Her mother still lives in there after all.

Agnes walked up the steps and stood at the front door. The last time she was here she was standing the other way with a garbage bag of whatever the hell she could fit and carry while still pregnant. Her left hand instinctively goes to her stomach as her right hand digs into the pocket of her shorts to pull out her key.

Of course the key fits into the lock and she opens the door.

Key back into her pocket she moves her left hand away from the void left behind and reaches out for the handle to twist the knob; letting herself back into the place that had stunted her as a person, as a human being.

Her mother emerges almost instantly as if she was looming just around the corner in wait; ready to jump Agnes like a hunter stalking its prey. That's how it had always felt in this house.

Agnes stares at her mother and her mother stares back; neither of them moving or talking. Evanora takes in her daughter standing before her; obviously changed into someone she no longer knows. She looks completely different from the day she ran away from home; a clear defiance of all the things she had worn Agnes about to never do if she wanted to be a good and pure girl.

She reeked of sin and Evanora turned her chin up; defiant and mocking as she stood in silence and watched only with her eyes as her daughter turned to her left to climb the staircase so she could take whatever was left in her room.

Agnes thumped up the stairs with her boots; made sure to be as loud and obnoxious and as 'masculine' as she could because she knew each treat would drive a stake through her mothers cold and twisted heart. She rounded the corner and saw the door still open to her room; eerily just like how she left it the day she ran away. She could see before she even walked in that it was a mess; her dresser drawers thrown open and her closet door wide. She had left in a hurry and didn't realize how desperate she had been then.

Agnes took a quick survey of her old room and not to her surprise, didn't find much she wanted to take. All of the clothes that were left behind were things she would never wear ever again. Too feminine, too girly. They were all things that Evanora had forced her to wear in some assimilation of her girlhood. Agnes stomped her way to the closet and pushed a few hangers out of the way to find the one shoe box she had stashed far and deep into her closet. She wanted what was inside of that for sure; school report cards and pictures. Her diaries. A scrap of paper she had folded up as small as she could make it with the names of all the girls she had ever had a crush on. Things that did not in some way, directly involve Evanora. School was an escape for Agnes as was her private accounts and a few pictures she had as a kid smiling with her two front teeth missing.

Grabbing the row of hung clothes, Agnes pushed them back so it looked like they were never moved and her hand brushed and stopped on a deep purple dress. She stood there frozen with her shoe box balanced on her hip as she clutched the soft arm of the dress. She hadn't really hated this one; loved the colour and the soft material. To her, it was something she could put on and still feel like herself. She pulled it off of the hanger, bunched it up and tucked it under the lid and into the shoe box.

Agnes hadn't realized that Evanora was standing in the doorway of her room until she turned around to leave.

"That boy wants to see his son, Agatha."

"I don't care."

Agnes clutched the box under her arm a little tighter as she stood up a little straighter. Her mother couldn't touch her now, not with the freedom she had gotten coursing through her veins. This house and this room and all the terrible, awful things that had happened here now meant nothing. She had a beautiful kid and a loving girlfriend and nothing was every going to snatch that all away from her. Not now, not ever.

It felt as if the room was closing in around her; trying to pull her back into all the abuse she had endured within these four walls. The way her mother would stand there in the doorway and hurl nothing but toxic and damaging words at her; nothing but fear and displeasure. Blaming Agnes for everything; putting fear into her that would never come true. Evanora had never backed down; only increasing her wrath. Those walls held secrets even Agnes would never spill; would never glance back into the recesses of her mind to reflect upon. They would be buried with her when she was dead and gone.

"You think that makes you a good mother? Having things go your way? You're selfish. That makes you selfish, Agatha. You're only chasing trouble and it will find you...it will."

Agnes scoffed as she rolled her eyes and pushed her way through; pushed her way forward in a way she had never once dared to with her mother standing her down. Agnes shoulder missed Evanora's by a hair; was close enough to hear her mother whisper dyke under her breath that made Agnes' heart lurch in her chest.

She didn't stop; couldn't. It felt like the house was suffocating her and she needed to get out and back onto the street and find her way back home to Alice and Nicky.

She needed to leave and never come back.

Agnes bounced down the stairs; almost running as she hit bottom and once again, used her free hand to fish into her pocket. She felt the warm metal and pulled out the key. She dropped it onto the floor and stepped on it with her boot; kicking it back as she pushed through the front door and ran down the front steps.

She was running away again and this time, with the upper hand.

Everything was now a blur behind her as she somehow managed to make her way back to the apartment. Agnes could see the light on in the unit that was theirs from the street; Alice obviously had stayed up.

She had never had that before, Agnes realized as she clutched her box a little tighter and entered into the apartment building, a light was left on to welcome her back home.

#Ask #Marvel #Agatha All Along #Butch!Agatha #Agnes O'Connor #Detective Agnes O'Connor #Agnes of Westview #Alice Wu Gulliver #Nicholas Scratch #Evanora Harkness #Writing #Writing prompts #HERE WE GO AGAIN #LOL #Man #Listen #I think this would be the last time Agnes would go back there EVER #Even when she is with Vidal #She would never step foot into that house ever again

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loveharlow · 22 hours ago

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Hey love, i wanted to request for Rafe, where reader is Rafe’s bestfriend and Reader gets beat up on a party and Rafe helps her. ( all fluff, and a bit angst cuz of the fighting <3 )

oddly soft!Rafe but he's a little mean, sorry I can't write Rafe without a little douchebag-ery and angst is my specialty, this req. is 2 years old i am so deeply sorry

swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, classism, pogue!reader

"You do realize you can't fight everyone, right?" Rafe told you, gently wiping a wet napkin across your bottom lip. The bright white material now bore a small, stark dot of crimson.

All you could manage was a sigh, pushing his hand away as he crouched in front of you, where you sat perched on the edge of his bed. "Why is it that these fucking rich kids can talk a whole bunch of shit about me, and I can't do anything?" You groaned, your lip curling with frustrated anger as you rolled your eyes.

Rafe mirrored your eye roll, tucking his bottom lip in as he slapped his knees and stood. "Yeah, and these rich kids also have a shit-ton of money. You do realize that, right?" He snarked, walking into his bathroom as your gaze followed him. He rummaged through the cabinets under his sink, searching for something. "You fight the wrong one, and they'll have you in court by morning. Of course, I'd never let that happen. But the point still stands."

"I don't care—"

"I know you don't." He cut you off, standing and letting the cabinet doors slam shut as he approached, a first-aid kit in hand. "But I do." He affirmed, dropping the kit onto the mattress beside you and pulling out an alcohol pad and a ridiculously small band-aid. "Believe it or not, you're the only one keeping me in one piece."

You scoffed at his words, flinching slightly as the chemical-saturated pad touched the raw skin of your lip. "What about Topper? Hm? Kelce?"

Rafe let out a short laugh under his breath, discarding the alcohol wipe and tearing open the bandage. "Topper's a bitch, and Kelce just does whatever I say. They're not my friends. Not really. But you are." He circled back to the original topic, carefully placing the tiny band-aid on your bottom lip. "So, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't get yourself thrown in jail." He said, his lips pressed into a thin line.

You nodded, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers as you considered your next words. "That's all I really know," you finally admitted, glancing up at him briefly as a wave of weariness washed over you.

He sat down next to you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. "I get it," he said softly, his gaze steady on your face. "But some things just aren't worth the headache." He reached out, his thumb gently brushing against the edge of the small bandage on your lip.

A sigh escaped your lips. "Easier said than done when they're constantly running their mouths..." You grumbled.

"I know," Rafe conceded, his eyes flicking down to your hands, which were now twisting together in your lap. "But you know I wouldn't let anyone fuck with you." He paused, then added, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "Besides, you've got me to get mad at. Isn't that enough?"

A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of your own mouth. "Sometimes," you admitted. "But that's not the same. You're also a rich asshole. Just not to me. I'm an exception to you, but not to them."

"Fair," he agreed, his tone turning serious again. "But I'd rather deal with the fallout of our messes than bail you out of jail because you punched some trust-fund baby in the face."

You chuckled softly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. "Fair enough."

He nodded, a sense of relief washing over his features. "Look, I'm not saying you have to take everything lying down. But maybe... maybe think twice before throwing a punch. For me, alright?"

You looked up at him, really looked at him, and saw a genuine concern in his eyes that you rarely witnessed. It was a stark contrast to the usual reckless glint that danced within them. A warmth spread through your chest, a feeling you didn't often allow yourself to acknowledge.

"Okay," you said, the word a quiet promise. "For you."

He smiled, a real, unguarded smile that reached his eyes. "Good." He leaned back against the headboard, pulling you gently so that your shoulder rested against his. "Now, how about we forget about those assholes for a while?" He reached for the remote on his nightstand. "Movie night?"

You leaned into him, the familiar comfort of his presence a soothing balm. "Sounds good," you murmured, the fight draining out of you, replaced by a quiet sense of peace. For now, at least.

Rafe Cameron Taglist in replies!

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#req. ♥︎#rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader

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thepinkpanther83 · 2 days ago

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And They Were Roommates (Pt.14)

Chapter Fourteen: “All Tangled Up”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Chapter Thirteen: “Walk of Triumph (And Slight Shame)” Chapter Fifteen: “Costumes and Catastrophes”

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter Fourteen: “All Tangled Up”

The house was heavy with the golden weight of a late afternoon slowing into evening.

The kind of sticky heat with cool breezes that made the air lazy, made the body ache for stillness, for skin against skin.

The living room window was cracked open, letting in the cool breath of late autumn, and the faint sounds of a radio warbled somewhere in the distance- some lazy classic rock ballad that matched the way time seemed to ooze around them.

Naked except for a pair of panties, you were half on, half off the couch, tangled up between his sprawled limbs and some old, ratty bed sheets that smelled like Eddie’s cologne and a little like cigarettes.

Eddie's fingers trailed lightly along your bare thigh, mindless, hypnotic, leaving a shivery path in their wake.

Neither of you had said much for the past twenty minutes. You didn’t need to.

Every brush of his fingertips, every little shift of his weight to pull you closer, every sigh into your hair said it all-

I want you here. I want you like this. Always.

"Baby," Eddie said suddenly, his voice lazy and rough from a full day of making out, half-heartedly fixing things around the house, eating greasy burgers, and doing a whole lotta not much else.

You hummed against his chest, where your face was happily smushed.

"You know you could set me on fire and I'd thank you for the warmth, right?"

You barked out a laugh, lifting your head just enough to give him a look.

"What the hell does that even mean?" you teased, grinning, cheeks hurting from how much he'd been making you smile today.

"It means," he said, tapping your nose with the back of one calloused finger, "you're so fucking amazing, I'd say 'thank you' even while you burned me alive."

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He said it like it wasn’t terrifying at all.

And something twisted sweetly, painfully, deep inside your chest.

You dropped your face back against his skin, trying to hide how much the words shook you.

Maybe he felt it. Maybe he just knew you too well.

Because his hand slid up your back, slow and firm, anchoring you against him.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, quieter now. Serious.

You didn’t answer right away. Didn’t trust your voice.

Instead, you pressed a kiss over his heart, feeling how wild and steady it beat for you, and whispered into his skin:

"I spent so long convincing myself you were safer as a friend. That if I didn't ask for more, I'd never lose you."

Eddie’s arms tightened instantly, fiercely, like he was scared you’d vanish if he let you go for even a second.

"You never had to ask, baby," he murmured, voice low and full of a fierce, aching tenderness. "You had me. Always."

You closed your eyes, breathing him in. Leather and smoke and sweetness and Eddie.

"I'm still scared," you admitted, so softly you weren’t sure if you meant for him to hear it.

But he did. Of course he did.

He always heard you.

His voice rumbled against your ear, solemn and full of a reckless, unshakeable devotion.

"You could beat me with my own guitar and I'd ask for an encore."

You let out a watery laugh, a hiccup of feeling, and he rolled you over under him like it was nothing, smothering your face in kisses- silly, earnest, greedy.

"No crying naked," he said sternly against your mouth, nudging your nose with his, grinning when you laughed again, helpless.

"It's illegal. Look it up."

You curled your arms around his neck, clinging, feeling like your heart was too big to fit inside your chest.

"I love you, Eddie Munson," you whispered, breathless.

"Yeah, you do," he grinned cockily, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"And you're fucked now, sweetheart," he added, nosing his way down to your throat, voice smug and fond and a little broken, "because I’m so gonna make you say it again… and again."

His lips trailed lower, teeth grazing the delicate skin just above your collarbone- not hard enough to mark, just enough to make you shiver. His voice was a rough murmur against your skin, warm and teasing.

"And again."

A kiss pressed to the frantic pulse at your throat.

"And again."

His hands slid down your sides, fingers splaying possessively over your hips as he settled between your thighs, his weight deliciously familiar.

"Until you forget there was ever a time you didn’t."

You arched into him, breath hitching as his mouth found yours again- hot, insistent, hungry. His tongue swept against your bottom lip, coaxing, demanding, and you opened for him with a soft sigh, fingers tangling in his thick mass of hair.

Eddie groaned into the kiss, one hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back just so he could deepen it, just so he could ruin you a little more.

His mouth was hot and relentless, kissing you like he was trying to rewrite your DNA, like if he could just press hard enough, he could fuse himself into your skin.

You gasped when his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging just enough to sting, just enough to make your thighs clench around his hips.

Eddie chuckled against your mouth, low and dark.

"There she is," he murmured, dragging his lips down your throat, tasting the frantic flutter of your pulse.

His hands slid under your shirt, calloused palms rough against the softness of your stomach, your ribs, the tender undersides of your breasts.

You arched into his touch, nails scraping down his back, and he groaned, pressing his forehead to your collarbone like he was praying.

"Fuck," he breathed, voice wrecked. "You're so perfect."

You laughed, breathless, tugging at his hair. "You're biased."

Eddie lifted his head, eyes wild and hungry.

"Yeah," he agreed, grinning crookedly. "And?"

You swallowed hard.

His thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric of the sheets, and you whimpered, hips jerking against his.

Eddie's grin turned filthy.

"Say it again," he demanded, voice rough.

You bit your lip.

He pinched lightly.

"Eddie-"

"Say it."

You exhaled, shaky.

"...I love you."

He kissed you like it was the first time all over again- desperate and sweet and needy.

"Again," he murmured against your lips.

You laughed, breathless, and he swallowed the sound, hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you harder against him.

The world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the weight of his body, the way his fingers dug into your skin like he was afraid you'd disappear.

And when he finally pulled back, panting, forehead pressed to yours, his voice was raw with need-

"Again."

You smiled, dizzy, and whispered it against his lips.

And he kissed you like he'd never stop.

Because he wouldn't. Not ever.

Your hands were suddenly everywhere- greedy, desperate… tugging at his shoulders, sliding under the tangled sheets to get to his bare skin, dragging blunt nails along his spine just to hear him growl against your skin.

Eddie was trembling, whole body shuddering with the effort to slow down, to savor this, but he was losing. Fast.

"Fuck, sweetheart-" he gasped, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat, "-you're gonna kill me. You're actually gonna kill me."

You laughed, breathless, writhing under him, feeling him hard and hot grinding against the soft, soaked cotton of your panties.

"Not before you finish me off first," you panted back, yanking at the sheets with frantic fingers.

Eddie chuckled low in his throat, wicked and thrilled, a sound that made your thighs clench around him.

"Gonna make you feel so good, baby," he promised roughly, voice cracking with it, hands fumbling to push the tangled sheets out of the way. "Gonna make you forget your own name."

He kissed you again, hard enough to bruise, and when he finally pulled away, he dragged the tip of his nose along your jaw, murmuring in that ragged, half-crazed voice-

"You'll only remember one thing."

You arched up into him, half-dazed, needing him like you needed air. "What's that?"

He grinned against your skin, wicked and wild and worshipful.

"That you're mine."

You barely got the blasted tangled sheets off before Eddie growled low in his chest- impatient, needy- and shoved the sheets down just enough to free himself, not even bothering to get them all the way off.

You gasped, body arching up instinctively at the feel of him, hot and heavy against your thigh, leaving a wet smear on your skin.

He hissed, rocking against you once, twice, grinding the thick length of his cock through the soaked fabric between your legs.

"Christ, baby," he panted, forehead dropping against yours. "You're dripping. Fuckin’ ruin me."

You whimpered, nails digging into the flex of muscle in his arms as you tried to hook your legs around his hips, tried to pull him closer, harder, more.

But Eddie- sweet, wicked, reckless Eddie- pulled back just enough to grab the hem of your panties, the elastic snapping lightly against your skin before he tore them off like they offended him.

"You don’t need these," he muttered, tossing the ruined scrap somewhere behind him without a second thought.

You shivered under the heavy weight of his gaze- hungry, reverent, wrecked.

He pushed your thighs open with rough, calloused hands, spreading you wide for him, and then- Oh, fuck- He dropped to his stomach between your legs like a man dying of thirst, and you were the last drop of water on earth.

"Eddie-!" you gasped, hips jerking up off the couch as his mouth latched onto you, tongue flattening and dragging through the wet heat of you like he was starving.

He groaned against you- a deep, desperate, filthy sound, and his hands pinned your hips down like he was afraid you’d escape if he didn’t.

"You taste like fucking heaven," he rasped against your cunt, breath hot and shaking. "Gonna eat you ‘til you forget how to fucking breathe, sweetheart."

You were already half there, gasping, babbling his name like a prayer as he worked you over- tongue licking, circling, plunging, teeth grazing just enough to make your whole body seize up with a frantic whimper.

You fisted his hair, tugging helplessly, but he only groaned, deeper, rutting his hips into the couch like he couldn't help himself.

"That’s it," he growled. "Fuckin’ ride my face, baby. Gimme everything."

You were sobbing his name by the time he slid two fingers inside you, crooking them just right, just perfect, and when he sucked your clit between his lips and moaned low in his throat- it was over.

You came hard, shaking apart under his mouth, thighs clamping around his head, trying to shove him away and pull him closer at the same time.

But Eddie wasn’t done.

He licked you through it- messy, greedy, not letting up even as you writhed and gasped and pleaded, until you were whimpering from over-sensitivity, hands shoving weakly at his shoulders.

Only then, only when you were trembling and broken and soaked through, did he finally lift his head.

His face was wrecked- mouth shiny, chin slick, eyes dark and wild and full of possessive triumph.

"Goddamn," he rasped, voice thick with pride and want. "I love to watch you come apart."

He shoved the sheets further down, finally freeing himself completely, and you barely had time to blink before he was fitting himself against you, thick and hot and bare.

You felt the blunt head of him nudge against your entrance, and you choked out a breathless moan, grabbing at his shoulders.

"No teasing," you managed to whimper, already desperate for him, aching, empty. "Please, Eddie-"

His mouth crashed into yours, hot and messy, swallowing your plea as he pushed inside in one slow, agonizing thrust.

You both cried out, bodies locking up, breath stolen by the sheer feel of it.

"Fuck- fuck, sweetheart, you’re so tight… so perfect-" Eddie babbled, forehead pressed to yours, hands braced on either side of your head like he was afraid he might break you if he wasn’t careful.

You were clutching at him, nails biting into his skin, gasping into his mouth as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.

You were full, stretched to the brink, every nerve ending sparking like a live wire.

"Move," you whimpered against his mouth, rocking your hips helplessly. "Eddie, please-"

He snapped, hips jerking back and then slamming forward with a rough, desperate thrust that made you cry out.

And then he was fucking you.

Hard. Deep. Like he was trying to carve himself into your bones.

Each thrust drove little gasps and whimpers from your lips, and Eddie swallowed every sound greedily, murmuring against your mouth-

"Mine. Mine. Mine."

You clung to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist, taking everything he gave you and begging for more.

"Say it again," he demanded, voice wrecked and raw, slamming into you so deep it felt like he touched your soul.

You sobbed his name, nails raking down his back again and clutching his ass.

"Say it, baby. Say you love me."

"I love you," you gasped, breaking apart under him. "I love you, Eddie… God, I love you-"

He groaned, deep and guttural, thrusts growing erratic as he buried his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin like he could devour you whole.

"Fuck, fuck… I'm close-" he rasped, fingers digging bruises into your hips. "Cum with me, sweetheart. Come on, baby, please-"

You felt the coil inside you snap- saw stars behind your eyes as your orgasm flowed through you, raw and shattering, pulling a hoarse, broken scream from your throat.

Eddie followed with a loud, desperate cry of your name, spilling inside you with a violent shudder, hips grinding against yours as he emptied himself inside of you, fucking it deep with shallow, frantic thrusts until he was utterly spent.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your harsh, panting breaths, your hearts hammering against each other’s chests.

Eddie collapsed onto you with a heavy, boneless groan, still buried deep inside, clinging to you like a lifeline.

"You’re really fucked now, sweetheart," he rasped, voice slurred with exhaustion and awe.

"You’re stuck with me forever."

You laughed, breathless and giddy, wrapping your arms tight around him.

"Good," you whispered against his hair. "Because I’m not letting you go either."

He smiled against your throat, lazy and sated and so in love he could hardly breathe.

"Smart girl," he mumbled.

And if either of you were still capable of moving, you would've gone another round right then and there.

As it was, you just held each other, sweaty and tangled and utterly wrecked, while the golden light faded into dusk around you.

The apartment was quiet again, except for the hum of the old refrigerator and the distant chirping of crickets outside. The air smelled like sweat, sex, and the faintest hint of the cheap incense Eddie had lit earlier to "set the mood", which had mostly just made the place smell like a head shop.

You were sprawled across Eddie’s chest, tracing lazy circles over the fresh marks your nails had left on his skin. His fingers were tangled in your hair, occasionally tugging just enough to make you lift your head and meet his gaze- dark, satisfied, smug.

"You’re staring," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

Eddie grinned, unrepentantly. "Can’t help it. You’re ridiculously pretty when you’re all fucked out."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the flush creeping up your neck.

He noticed, of course.

"Oh my God," he gasped, delighted. "You’re blushing."

You smacked his chest. "Shut up."

Eddie caught your wrist, pressing a kiss to your palm before tucking it against his heart. "Nah. I like it. Makes me feel like I actually did something right for you for once."

You frowned, lifting your head to study his face. "You do a lot of things right, Munson."

He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah? Name three."

You didn’t hesitate.

"One- you make me laugh harder than anyone else."

Eddie blinked, clearly not having expected you to actually play along.

"Two- you listen when I talk. Like, actually listen."

His throat bobbed.

"Three-" You leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "-you love me like it’s the easiest thing in the world."

Eddie’s breath hitched.

For a second, he just stared at you, eyes wide and vulnerable, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Then, with a shaky exhale, he pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice thick. "You can’t just say shit like that, sweetheart. I’ve got a reputation to uphold."

You laughed, cuddling into his side.

The room was warm, dim, and lazily spinning around you both like some slow, hazy carousel. You were still draped across Eddie's chest, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the dark ink of his chest tattoo- a black widow spider, the skin around it very faintly raised. He shifted under you, making a soft grunt like he was thinking real hard about something. You tilted your head up to catch his expression- brows furrowed, mouth twisted in concentration.

"You're scheming," you said, voice thick and lazy.

Eddie’s lips curled into a sly grin. "Guilty, sweetheart." He tapped a finger against your shoulder. "Tomorrow’s Halloween."

You groaned dramatically and let your head fall back down. "So?"

"So," he said, drawing the word out, "Steve and Robin are throwing a party."

You lifted your head again, squinting at him. "You hate parties."

"I hate most parties," Eddie corrected, holding up a finger. "But apparently this one’s at Steve’s big stupid house, and apparently someone-" he poked you lightly, "- really wants to see his place."

You rolled your eyes. "I never said I wanted to see his place."

"You didn’t have to." He waggled his eyebrows. "I could feel it in my bones."

You snorted. "Your bones are full of shit."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But also? First Halloween together? We gotta do it right, babe."

He shifted, suddenly way too energized for a man who had been thoroughly wrecked less than an hour ago, and grabbed a notebook off the coffee table. It was bent and covered in doodles, pages curling at the edges. He flipped it open, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in focus.

"I have ideas."

"Oh God," you muttered, flopping back onto his chest.

"Just hear me out!" Eddie said, laughing. He scribbled furiously for a second. "Option one: Grim reaper and his tragically beautiful victim."

You wrinkled your nose. "That's just an excuse to wear your stupid cloak again."

"It's not stupid, it's metal," Eddie said indignantly. "And I look hot in it."

"Debatable," you teased.

"Option two," he said, ignoring you. "Vampires. Classic. I already have the boots and the attitude."

You considered it. "Actually kinda into that."

"Knew you would be, minx." He shot you a wink. "Option three: Slashers. Freddy and... sexy Freddy."

You burst out laughing. "That’s the dumbest idea I've ever heard."

"Or," Eddie said, undeterred, "we go full chaos. Zombies. Blood everywhere. You in ripped fishnets and fake scars. Me pretending to eat your brains in front of Harrington just to make him uncomfortable."

You grinned, imagining the look on Steve's face. "That's... tempting."

"Or," Eddie added, voice dropping into a teasing drawl, "we could go as matching fallen angels. You know. Leather. Wings. Black eyeliner. Real devilishly hot vibes."

You blinked at him. "Where would we even get wings?"

Eddie beamed like you had just challenged him to build a bomb in the backyard. "Leave that to me, baby."

You shook your head, laughing into his chest. He set the notebook aside and pulled you closer again, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"I don't care what we end up being," he murmured. "As long as I get to show up with you on my arm."

You lifted your head just enough to kiss the underside of his jaw. "You’re such a sap."

"Yeah, but I’m your sap," he said smugly.

You smiled into his skin, feeling that warm, dizzy rush again, like you were falling for him all over again for the first time.

Outside, somewhere in the cooling darkness, a lone car rumbled down the street. Inside, everything smelled like home- incense, leather, him.

Tomorrow would be Halloween.

Tonight, though, was just yours.

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be tagged! And to which fandom. (Bayverse TMNT, Vegeta, Eddie Munson).

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