#I mean there ARE inside out cheese sandwiches

[butterthatdldo]

Inside out sandwiches are, suprisingly, not a real thing...

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#webcomic #I mean there ARE inside out cheese sandwiches #but what about bolony or sardines? #missed oportunities

[taeyongdoyoung]

strawberries & sunshine

summary: your adorable best friend takes you to a picnic in a secluded spot but his intentions may be far from innocent... pairing: haechan x reader genre: smut, established relationship warnings: cnc/dubcon, corruption kink, innocence kink, pet names (angel, sweetie, my flower, etc.), mention of doctors/made-up sickness, manipulation, bf2l roleplay, inappropriate touching, rubbing, fingering, unprotected sex (pls dont), public sex (there is no one around but still), creampie, safeword is referenced but not used, swearing, degradation (reader is called slut), aftercare author's note: this concept has been haunting me for a while now and i finally gathered enough courage to put it into words 🥴 word count: 1.7k

Your best friend is the sweetest guy in the universe. Haechan is thoughtful, funny and always does kind gestures like bringing you flowers or your favourite chocolates without asking for anything in return. Despite being talkative himself, he always listens to you rant about what’s bothering you, checking to see if you want advice or simply emotional support.

Haechan is also very cute and pretty. Spending time with him truly energizes you and you trust him to have your best interests at heart 100%. Which is why you don’t think twice when he asks you to go on a picnic with him. You love eating and nature, but more importantly, you love being around Haechan, so you find no reason to worry.

When he first mentioned this idea, you assumed you two would go to a park inside the city. But now that the sunny day you chose for your picnic finally arrives, you are stunned that Haechan is driving you two out of the city, entering the mountain nearby.

“Woah, isn’t that a little far away?” you ask in amazement.

“Relax, angel, I’ll take you to the prettiest place,” Haechan responds.

You nod absentmindedly, not even a little bit concerned.

After what seems like forever, Haechan stops the car. He insists on carrying the picnic basket, as well as the blanket, and leads the way into the woods. You walk for around 15 minutes when you are eventually greeted by gorgeous green grass, surrounded by tall trees and birds chirping.

“It’s so lovely, Haechan! How did you find this?”

“I like exploring every once in a while,” he shrugs humbly.

You lay down the blanket, spread out the insides of the picnic basket and sit down, satisfied with the results. There are strawberries, little croissants, ham and cheese sandwiches, French macarons, some homemade kimbap and lemonade. It is so peaceful and quiet here, you really needed an escape from the big city.

You don’t talk much, too busy eating, enjoying the sweet strawberries, the bright sunshine and the lovely atmosphere.

“Oof, I’m so full,” you groan at some point.

“That’s the whole point of picnics, isn’t it?” Haechan chuckles.

“So true!” you laugh.

You two put the remaining food back into the basket and place it on the grass, making space for you to lie down on the blanket.

“To be honest, I’m still kinda hungry,” Haechan murmurs bashfully.

“What? Why didn’t you say so before we put the food away?” you exclaim in surprise.

“Not hungry for anything inside the basket.”

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“I’m not just hungry, I’m also in a lot of pain.”

“Huh? Should we go back to the city for you to see a doctor?” you are instantly concerned for your friend’s well-being.

“Oh, I’ve talked to many doctors already and they all said the same thing. There is only one cure possible for my sickness,” Haechan explains patiently.

“Well, what is it? If there’s anything I can do to help you…” you offer without thinking.

“There is, actually. But do you promise to do anything for me? You’re my best friend, right? You wouldn’t want me to be in pain?”

“Of course not, Haechan! I promise I’ll try to help you but you gotta tell me what kind of pain are you talking about?”

“How about I show you instead?” Haechan’s lips tilt in the slightest of smirk. You are confused by the change of his expression, when he grabs your hand and puts it on his heart. “First, it hurts here.” Then, he moves it so that your hand is now placed on top of his cock. “But it also hurts here.”

“Oh, Haechan,” you sympathize with him. Truly. “This is so strange but I think I might have the same sickness?”

You take hold of his hand and place it on your breasts.

“It hurts me here, as well,” you blink at him softly, then move his hand to your clothed pussy so he touches it through your floral dress. “And here.”

“My angel, I had no idea you were also suffering from this cruel sickness. Do you think maybe…we could be each other’s cure?”

“I don’t know, Haechan…Isn’t it wrong to feel this way?” you express your doubts.

“Oh no, sweetie, it’s completely normal, at least that’s what the doctors said. If we help each other, the pain will disappear.”

“Well, then I guess it’s for the best,” you concede. “The hurt is becoming quite uncomfortable.”

“Same here, my flower. I think we should hurry if we want to cure ourselves of this terrible illness.”

Haechan wastes no more time trying to convince you and climbs on top of you, pressing you down. He spreads your legs apart with one hand, touching and brutally rubbing you through your panties.

“Hyuck, n-no, this isn’t right,” you cry out and try to push him away.

“Shh, my sweet, I’m just trying to cure you first. Don’t you want it?”

“N-no, I’m not sure anymore, please stop,” you whine helplessly but he is too strong to fight off.

“It’ll be over before you know it, just stop struggling, my dear,” Haechan assures you and continues to attack your pussy with his hand. Eventually, he tears your panties apart, sticking his long fingers inside of you.

“P-please, you don’t ha-have to do this,” you try your best to resist but your damn pussy betrays you, squelching noises revealing your juices all for your best friend to see and hear. You would be embarrassed if you aren’t so turned on right now. You come around his fingers so quickly and powerfully that you are unable to think clearly any longer.

“You can help me now, no? I healed you, so now it’s your turn to give me the cure,” Haechan tries to talk you into this.

“I don’t know…” you shake your head. “Maybe there’s another way.”

“There isn’t. Trust me, okay?” Haechan insists. “You promised…”

His reminder, paired with his soft yet cruel smile is more than enough to convince you. But you say nothing as he unbuckles his belt, lowers his boxers and enters you in one swift movement.

“N-no, it h-hurts, Hyuck, p-please,” you whimper around him, as he goes deeper than you could ever imagine, stretching you out to your absolute limits.

“Take it, you slut, going alone into the woods with a guy, acting as if you had no idea what’s gonna happen to you,” Haechan’s words are so unkind, so unlike the sweet guy you’re used to seeing.

“I didn’t know, I swear,” you insist, pushing against his chest with your tiny hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs meanly, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“N-no, this is wrong, H-hyuck,” you sniffle pitifully. “We’re best friends, we shouldn’t do things like that.”

“Well, best friends ought to help each other no matter what. So, take it like the good little slut you are and cure me of this sickness you caused,” Haechan keeps fucking into you, making you feel so full and satiated.

“Am not a slut,” you argue.

“Oh yeah? Then, why didn’t you wear a fucking bra, huh?” Haechan asks, letting go of your wrists and sliding his hand under your dress, grabbing your tits roughly.

“F-for you,” you admit shamelessly. “Wanna be your good girl, Hyuck.”

“Too bad, because I wanna turn my good girl into a slut,” he snickers at you, spilling his seed inside of your pussy. You come around him without thinking and are foolish enough to think he’s done with you. Taking his cock out and using his fingers to fuck the cum threatening to spill out back into your pussy. You are too exhausted to fight back but you do your best anyway.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Making sure the cure is permanent,” Haechan explains calmly as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Then, without bothering to ask, he flips you around so that you are on your knees, face down, and slips back inside of you smoothly.

“N-no, that’s enough!” you scream in frustration.

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Haechan grunts loudly.

“Nngh, aren’t we cured already?”

“What are you talking about? The disease is only spreading further,” Haechan laughs maniacally at this point.

“Haechan, please, stop, I can’t…” you cry and plead and whimper, again and again.

“You know what to say if you really want me to stop,” Haechan reminds you. But when you say nothing, he continues using your body, right there in the middle of the woods, too far away from society, where no one could possibly hear you asking for help, where you are left entirely at your best friend’s mercy.

Eventually, he exhausts himself after cumming too many times, inside of you, on your back, on your belly, and all over the poor blanket. Haechan reaches his hand out to get water from the picnic basket, thoughtfully giving it to you. After you are both done drinking, he does his best to clean you up and make sure you are...well, alive. Taking a deep breath, he lies down next to you, enveloping you in a warm and soft hug.

“Was that too much?” he wants to know and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear gently. You melt under his touch, just like always.

There he is. Your sunshine boyfriend is back.

“No, it was perfect. So much better than what we talked about previously,” you reply honestly.

“I wasn’t too mean to my baby, was I?” Haechan needs to make sure.

“Just the right amount of mean,” you laugh. “Did I play the innocent angel part well enough?”

“Too well,” Haechan praises your acting skills. “Maybe because you were my innocent best friend back when we first met.”

“And look where that got me,” you sigh. “Miles away from home, overflowing with cum, no one to save me. Such a tragic fate.”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Haechan rolls his eyes.

You lean in to kiss him softly.

“Loved every minute,” you admit. Then, you grab his chin firmly. “But next time, I’ll be the one corrupting you.”

The End

#nct #haechan #nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #nct imagines #haechan imagines #writing

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and saw that your requests were open so I thought I’d shoot this over. If you don’t vibe with it don’t worry about skipping it. I was wondering if I could request a James x reader where they are living together and definitely love each other but they’ve kind of slipped into a roommate phase. Like they’re just living around each other and reader starts feeling insecure and scared and doesn’t know how to get back into normalcy. Maybe a little angsty with some fluff at the end

Thanks lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.4k words

When James comes in the front door, his shoes squelch. You look him up and down, dripping wet and mud caked up to his knees. You wince. 

“Rough practice?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” James says, dropping his bag by the door and heading for the kitchen. 

There’s an exhausted slump to his shoulders, and his shoes leave a muddy trail of footprints, and you hate to do it, but—

“Would you mind taking off your shoes?” 

“Oh.” James looks down. You see him follow the trail with his eyes. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You hate yourself as soon as it’s out of your mouth, because that’s exactly the sort of thing you’d say if it wasn’t fine. And yeah, you’re a bit peeved that he’d track mud inside after you’d mopped the floors just yesterday, but you know he wasn’t thinking about it and you’d promised yourself just this morning that you were going to be nicer to him and now he’s sitting on the floor looking like his day is getting worse instead of better. 

You try again. 

“Um, I made dinner.” You step over him awkwardly, setting a hand on his head to help yourself. James doesn’t shrink from the touch, but he doesn’t lean into it like you could swear he used to either. The stove turns off like it’s relieved to do it, having idled for close to a half hour while you waited for James to get home. You wanted to try and eat together tonight; you used to do it all the time, but lately you’ve been having too many couch dinners by your lonesome. “Macaroni and cheese, is that alright?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You jolt a little at James’ hand on your back as he reaches around you for a bowl, and he looks at you, lips quirking like you’re funny. 

You find yourself smiling back by muscle memory, a reflex almost forgotten. It lifts your heart. 

“So, how was practice?” 

James glances up at you, then goes back to filling his bowl. “I’ve already told you,” he says. “Rough.” 

“Oh, right.” You huff out a little laugh. He passes you the spoon, and you take it without really looking at him. “Sorry.” 

His answering smile is weaker this time. More a press of his lips than anything. 

“Don’t be.” He kisses you on the cheek, then goes, pulling out his chair at the table. 

You take your seat, too. A lot of these base routines have begun to feel empty lately. They used to be an assurance for you, like if you always wore your same paths into the carpet you’d become so entrenched in this house, in James’ house, that neither he nor it could ever let you leave. You loved knowing that if he was back from his run when you woke up in the morning, there’d be a glass of orange juice waiting for you on the counter. That when the flowers on your kitchen table started to wilt you’d come home to a fresh bunch, and that if you called and told him you were having a bad day lunch from your favorite sandwich shop would miraculously show up at your work. Those things used to make your heart feel full to bursting, because they meant he was thinking of you. 

Now you’re not sure what they mean. They seem like things James does because he’s supposed to, like part of a script, a routine. Chores. 

As soon as he’s sat down, he’s digging into his dinner. James eats like a boy. Wolfing, like someone’s going to take it away from him. You hope it means he likes it. 

“What’d you do tonight, m’love?” he asks through a mouthful.

And see, he says things like that. Calls you his love, asks about your day. It’s all started to fall flat. You know he’ll take whatever answer you give him, because you’ve begun to suspect he doesn’t really care. 

“Nothing crazy,” you answer honestly. “Shayna’s baby came early, so I’m taking on a bit more at work until they can find someone to fill in for her. So that’s a bit stressful, but it’s not awful.” 

“Mm.” James nods, but doesn’t offer more than that. His mouth seems to be perpetually full. 

You fork a macaroni noodle, pretending you have more appetite than you do. Truthfully, you’ve felt weird and off and vaguely nauseous all day. 

Last night had been a bit of a breaking point for you. It came on rather suddenly. You’d gone to bed long after James, but you couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from him, the way the moonlight snuck in through the slats in your blinds to fall across his sleeping face. He was so beautiful, and you loved him so much you didn’t know what to do with it all, and then you were crying. 

You’d wept silently, wishing James would wake up, but you were unwilling to rouse him and he wasn’t going to do it himself. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep with your pillowcase damp and cold under your cheek and woke to find James’ side of the bed empty as usual. Orange juice on the counter. 

“I was wondering if you might want to watch a film tonight,” you say lightly. “I saw they’ve put that sci-fi one you like back on Netflix.” 

“Ah, have they really?” James swallows, forks another bite. “Wish I could, but I’m supposed to meet everyone at Spoons in a few minutes here.” 

Oh. The realization hits you like a dull thud, smack in the center of your chest. He’s not eating quickly because he likes your food; it’s because he wants to leave. 

“Can’t you stay here?” Your voice is small. James looks at you like he’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” He offers you a smile. His fork clinks in the bottom of an empty bowl, and his chair screeches as it’s pushed back. James brushes his lips across your cheek as he goes by. “We’ll have to do it this weekend, though, definitely.” 

You know by now these sorts of promises aren’t meant to keep. They come written in disappearing ink.

He heads upstairs to change, and desperation grips you. It forgets he’ll be home later and puts you hot on his heels, your own dinner left on the table barely touched. 

“Jamie, wait.” He pauses with his shirt half off, looking over at you in the doorway. “Don’t you feel like we’ve not had much time together lately?” you ask. 

The plea is naked in your tone, and James’ eyes soften. He tugs his shirt off, straightens his glasses. “I haven’t had time for much of anything lately,” he says, shrugging good-naturedly. 

It’s true. He’s been busy. His new coach seems to think the team has nothing but time, and as captain James is expected to commit even more than most. When he’s not at training, he’s keeping fit on his own or running errands for his mum or sleeping it all off in your bed. 

“But you should come tonight,” James goes on brightly. “Dorcas and Marlene will be there, it’ll be fun.” 

He tosses his clothes in the laundry bin and makes his way over to the dresser. You cross your arms, then uncross them. Parse your words. “I don’t…I just feel like you hung out with your friends last night, you know?” 

“You could’ve come then, too,” he says, stepping into a pair of jeans. “They all love you, you know that.” 

“I don’t want to hang out with your friends.” It comes out sharper than you intend, though not less sharp than the look James gives you. He’s finished getting dressed but doesn’t make to leave. “That’s not what I mean. I like your friends, but it’s not…the same as spending time with you. It doesn’t count, for me.” Your voice softens on the last two words, knowing that for James, it might very well count. 

For him, you’ve gathered, social time is social time. So long as you’re there, he’ll feel just as connected to you as if you were curled up on the couch together having a private conversation. You wish your brain worked the same way, but it doesn’t. 

He’s looking at you with something like trepidation now, so you state it plainly. 

“I really miss you, Jamie.” A blockage rises in your throat. You swallow it back down. “I feel like…I don’t know what’s going on with us lately.” 

“We’re the same as we have been.” He looks confused, worse when your face pinches painfully. 

“And that’s all?” You try to blink them away, but tears burn in your eyes. “This is just what we do now?” 

“No.” James looks appalled, but you catch the quick glance he gives to the digital clock on his nightstand. “It’s only for now, just until the season’s over and Coach mellows out. Where’s this coming from?” 

You blink hard, angling your head away from him. “Nothing, sorry. I’m just being emotional.” Your breath scrapes on the way in. You pretend it doesn’t. “It’s okay if you have to go.” 

He shakes his head, and when you start back towards the stairs anyway, he says, “No, come on.” In a few long strides, he’s got your elbow. He tugs you gently back into the room. “Let’s sit down, okay? What’s going on?” 

“Sorry.” Your voice is pitchy and tight. You think you hear James inhale softly before he’s drawing you into a hug. It doesn’t feel quite like it used to, but it’s still warm, still nice. 

He sits you both down on the edge of your bed, arms still wrapped loosely around you. “What are you sorry for, baby?” 

“I was going to try not to make your life harder today,” you laugh wetly, pulling back from him to swipe under your eyes. 

“You don’t make my life harder,” James says, somewhere near to dismayed as he slides his hand to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t.” 

You give him a look meant to say, Oh, come on, but you’re not sure how it comes off with your face blotchy and snot starting to run from your nose. You take in a big breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I think I’ve made it harder more than I’ve made it easier lately,” you admit, looking at your bedcover and also at nothing at all. “I didn’t even really realize until recently, but I’ve just felt so…disconnected from you lately. It’s like even when you’re here, I’m just around you and not with you, and—” Your voice catches, and you inhale again. “And I know you’re really busy, but I’m just trying to find ways to fix it.” 

James’ hand drops from your shoulder, into his lap, and you lift your gaze. He looks crestfallen. “What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly, his own voice starting to sound raw. “I can’t control these things. And we live together, I see you all the time. It doesn’t seem fair to ask me not to see my mates.” 

“I’m not asking you to do that.” You’re horrified. “But that’s just it, Jamie, it’s like we only live together anymore. Saying hi when you come in, waving when you go back out, those don’t count as quality time for me. And I wish I could get the same feelings from being in a big group that you do, but I can’t.” 

James looks at you helplessly. You shrug, just as powerless. 

“I know it’s not your fault,” you tell him, and a tear drips off your chin. “I don’t know what to do, either. I just want you to know that I’m trying, okay?” 

James nods for a minute. Thoughtful, heartbroken. He lets out a big breath. Your arms come around each other at almost the same time, so in sync you can’t be sure who reaches for the other first. You’re trying not to get snot on his fresh shirt, but he palms the back of your head, pressing your face to his shoulder. 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “You’re right, we should both be trying more. I think I’ve let myself get so overwhelmed that I’m not…almost not even thinking throughout the day, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this by yourself.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, and a little laugh rumbles through James’ chest. He hugs you tighter. 

“It is a little bit, though, isn’t it? I haven’t been paying attention. But okay, let’s make a plan for now.” His hand splays out between your shoulder blades, and you clutch at the material of his shirt, both of you wordlessly trying to get closer as if you can make up for lost time. “Come with me tonight, please.” You go still, but James goes on, “I know it’s not a solution, but I can’t back out and I’d really feel so much better if you were there. Please, angel. And tomorrow, we’ll stay in and watch something. Not a film only I like,” he gives your back a teasing little squeeze, “but something we can both get into. Or we can just talk, or play a game, I don’t care. Tomorrow is our night, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you sniff, nodding and pulling away slightly so you can wipe your face. James joins in, pinching your nose clean for you and wiping the snot on his jeans carelessly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to clear my busy schedule.” 

He smiles. It’s like the sun beaming through clouds. “I’d appreciate that. Really hard to get ahold of you these days.” You let out a little laugh, and his grin spreads. “Good, so that’s for now, and at training on Friday I’m going to talk to Coach about cutting down on our hours.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “Jamie, you don’t have to—” 

“I do,” he says. “I’ve been a wuss about it, but everyone on the team is miffed and it’s really my job to handle it. He doesn’t know everything yet, so I can at least give him some advice about how we operate best.” 

James palms the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and meeting you halfway. His forehead presses against yours. 

“I’m really glad you said something. Thanks for being the smart one, as usual.” Your smile is small at first, but James nudges his nose against yours until it blooms in full. “We’re gonna make it better, okay?” 

You swallow thickly. “Okay. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His voice takes on a tender quality, and you push your forehead into his. He palms your cheeks in response, stamping his lips to your forehead. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you, too.” 

That was never up for debate. 

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter h/c #james potter angst #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #the marauders #marauders fandom #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Yuus Food Truck

In which Azul loses his mind over a grilled cheese.

Content stuff: short, one sided enemies to lovers, Azul being a loser, general cringe.

Posting Reqs like this for a bit until Tumblr lets us edit asks. I had a request for Enemies to Lovers with Azul, so I came up with this.

That goddamned Prefect was the bane of Azul's existence. For the past few weeks, he has been gripping his leg in absolute rage within his office as he stares at his weekly reports. Practically frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of you.

Recently, the little Ramshackle prefect has begun a new business venture. A simple food truck on campus selling only grilled cheeses for a singular madol. That's it. He found the idea a bit funny, he'll admit, but he was far from worried.

Surely after a month it would shut down, or at the very least get so few customers it wouldn't impact his business. I mean come on, how much money are you really making from selling grilled cheeses for one dollar? You must be taking a loss!

He was wrong. So so wrong.

Not only have you somehow been profiting from your little side project, but you have taken all of his customers. He is looking over his lounge, nowhere near as full as it usually is. He grits his teeth and heads back into the VIP room. The twins should be here any minute now. 

On cue, the door creaks open, and in come those rowdy twins both with their usual smirks. Azul jerks up, staring up at Jade from his desk. His hand shook ever slightly as he gripped the feather in his hand.

“Well? Did you get it?” The mer asks, gaze steely. Floyd speaks for the both of them through mouthfuls of grilled cheese.

“Mmmhmm yeah, we got you a cheese, here you go. Mmmm.” Floyd took another bite of his as he tossed the wrapped-up grilled cheese onto the desk. 

“Hey watch the merchandise– Are you eating their food?" Azul stared at both of them. Floyd stuffing his face with the one in his hand and Jade elegantly nibbling on his own. He was shocked, betrayed by his own staff. “You guys gave them more money— ugh. I would have expected this of Floyd but you too Jade?”

“The prefect saw me ordering and put some mushrooms into mine that pair well with the cheese. Free of charge as well. How thoughtful of them. I must commend their customer service.” Jade wore a shit-eating smirk on his face as he took another bite, making a show out of it. He seemed to relish in Azul's misery.

“Free of charge?” Azul was flabbergasted. Not only were their prices ridiculously low but they were adding things for free? They might as well be handing their money away at that point.

“Right? I say they should have charged Jade for all he's worth for putting those damn things on. Yuck…” Floyd wrinkled his nose as he side eyed Jade, who just continued to eat blissfully. 

He needed to figure out just what was so good about the damn things. Gloved hands carefully lifted up the wrapped delicacy with such fragility as if it would break from a gust of wind. The wrapping was done well, nice and neat as he peeled it off to reveal what was inside.

Crisped and perfectly brown buttered white bread. It glistened in the light with its heavenly beauty. The cheese was ooey and gooey and so thick that it ran down the sides. So far the presentation was beautiful, but it was pretty damn difficult to fucked up a grilled cheese. He tried to hold back this drool from the smell alone.

Carefully, he took a bite and closed his eyes. His mouth was blasted with flavor. As he savored that magical bite, a gust of wind swept through the room, causing the curtains to dance dramatically. The cheesy aroma lingered, creating an ambiance fit for a culinary masterpiece. This grilled cheese has unlocked secrets of the universe with how much it expanded his mind. This mere sandwich has him on the brink of tears

Azul has to hold his expression. He's not gonna be impressed by some measly sandwich. He's better than that. Though he thought that maybe by tasting it he could be able to figure out what your secret ingredient was, it's clear that isn't the case… This is a simple grilled cheese. He would have to go undercover to discover your cooking secrets.

***

“Heyyy Prefect!” A wry voice hums near the truck, belonging to no other than Ruggie. He knocked on the side of the window and Yuu poked out their head.

Azul watched from the distance, narrowing his eyes as he hyper-focused on the conversation. He admits the front of the Ramshackle dorms was a great location. Close to the botanical garden, close to the main building, not as far as Octavinelle either, and had most of the foot traffic. It's why he had his eye on it for a second location.

“Well if it isn't my number one customer, what can I get ya, let me guess a grilled cheese?” Of course, Ruggie would be their number one customer, which makes sense given his financial state. Figures. Maybe if he introduced a dollar menu…

“You know what Ruggie, you're cool. For you, it's 50 cents. Two for one if you will.” Ruggie pauses for a moment before smiling again. “Awe really? Sweet, can't up a deal like that shyehehehe!” The hyena cackles and you get to work. The window for the truck is fully open, allowing Azul to see in.

You aren't even hiding your cooking technique?! You're just giving all your secrets away like that?! Ohh you foolish fool… This would be easier than he thought.

He must get closer, to see what sort of fuckery is at play here. However, walking up and just watching you cook work is suspicious. As much as he hates to fund this little project… sacrifices must be made… He will have to order a grilled cheese…

Ruggie slinks off, tail wagging happily as he munches on his food. This was the perfect opportunity to approach. He stood up even straighter and approached with determination hidden poorly behind his attempt at a straight face. His scowl dared to seep through but he managed to smooth it out into his sickenly sweet facade.

“Hello, dear prefect!” He watched Yuu perk up through the window as they wiped down their workspace. They glanced over at Azul, completely unaware of his evil plot. “Heya Zuzu what can I get ya?”

Zuzu? That's awfully bold… whatever eyes on the prize… 

“I'd like one grilled cheese please if I may…” Hell yes. Smooth operator. He's so good at this.

“Mkay, coming right up.” Azul leans in closer as you get to work, memorizing everything you do… You just make a grilled cheese… Nothing special. It's just simple bread and cheese you cook in butter. How the hell? Was it the oven perhaps? Did you somehow know of his intentions and we're trying to conceal it?? Ugh, whatever maybe he can sucker you into another deal.

“... You know Prefect, if you just raised the price a bit you'd be bringing in more profits.” 

You shrugged as you pressed down your creation with your spatula to make it sizzle more. “Yeah, I know how money works.” Azul paused and blinked.

“So why don't you do it?” You shrug again. “It's funny.” Azul was perplexed, bamboozled, perhaps even smeckledorfed perchance. You were doing this for fun?! Starting a business for fun. Not for profit which would be beneficial given your situation, but for fun.

“Fun? Really? But prefect– wouldn't you– shouldn't you consider raising the prices even slightly? I mean after all Crowley hasn't been paying you well and if anything—”

“I should shoot you for the mere suggestion of raising the grilled cheese prices. The price is firm. It's never going up even by a cent. Hell, I'm so offended I may lower it.” You pulled the cheese off the grill and started to pack it up, swaddling it with such delicacy and love reserved for newborns.

Azul's mouth hung open for a bit before closing it. “Are you serious? Prefect— Yuu at this point I'm not even mad about the competition I'm– hrk!”  

“You need to relax a little Azul, for your own sake.” You shoved the grilled cheese out the window a bit more forcefully than you intended, making the unwrapped part hit Azul's glasses. The melty butter left grease marks on them, and through the blurriness, he could see your expression. His heart skipped a beat and sucked in a breath. Oh no.

He was in love.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #crack #food truck yuu #this is so cringe

[elexaria]

Oh no 😅 what’s Simon gonna do once he realizes he cares about the reader and craves non-sexual intimacy with them, too? Is he still gonna be mean, are they all gonna have a talk, will he change his behavior? Will he grow to love reader?? I’m obsessed with your poly!ghoap!!! 💕I also love the other one with reader and Gaz, too. Great job!!

simon’s been distant since he realised that he’s jealous of the affection you give johnny. he can’t say he doesn’t understand why you keep your distance from simon, especially seeing as the last few times he’s had you pinned up against the fridge with a snarl.

it’s actually kind of terrifying that simon’s hopped off your back a bit, not acting all threatening when you two cross paths in the apartment like he normally would. holding doors open for you, he even woke you up when you had accidentally slept through your alarm??

johnny’s in the shower one evening, his screechy voice belting out rock tunes. you’re in the kitchenette, making yourself lunch for the next day, occasionally stealing glances from simon, who’s sat on the sofa watching a shitty soap opera. whilst also listening to a Soap Opera.

you bite the inside of your lip nervously, trying to think of idle conversation. “so… i know you and johnny have a work event tomorrow. do you want .. me to make you two lunch?” you squeak out, a chill running down your spine as his head whips around and he stares right at you. with one powerful lunge, he’s up off the sofa and striding towards the kitchen island, large hands reaching out to grab a knife.

fuck, this is how it ends. you’re gonna get stabbed to death by your lunatic roomie and johnny’s too busy singing in the shower to hear you. fuck—

“pass us the cheese.”

??

you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at simon. his facial expression is blank, piercing blue eyes just staring right at you. he grunts, extending his hand and curling his fingers up, motioning for you to pass him the block of cheese.

“i said pass us the cheese then. i wanna help.”

when johnny finally steps out the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, he swaggers into the kitchenette with a comfortable stride. his thick eyebrows raised curiously at the sight of simon prepping sandwiches. except, there’s a fuck tonne of sandwiches on the island. he looks at you with a confused expression, which makes you giggle. “simon’s helping me make lunch for tomorrow.” you say gently, looking up at simon with a small smile.

simon’s lips twitch up ever so slightly, something he’s never done around you before. he clears his throat as he grabs some tupperware containers, shrugging as he begins to store the excess sandwiches. “dunno… might have gotten carried away. reckon we’ll all be eating sandwiches for dinner for a couple’a days.” he murmurs, smirking up at you when you laugh at his comment.

it’s a start, and you and simon are both content with that.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap x reader #poly!ghoap

[callsignhood]

König at a bar with you:

Tags: Related to this post / Fluff / Headcanon / Gender neutral / König is drunk and trusts you / König keeps his hood on

Word count: 400ish

He is talking more than usual, breathy laughs in between his words with a slight undertone of drunkenness, clearly in a good mood. König is talking about Austrian bread, Semmel, to be exact. You can hear his smile under his hood, describing how delicious Käsesemmel and Schinkensemmel are.

“Speak English, König.” You chuckle at him. He realizes he’s getting too comfortable with you and his German babbling stops. He clears his throat to hide away his slight embarrassment, then proceeds to explain: “Käsesemmel means cheese roll, it’s a round bread sandwich made with wheat flour, with cheese slices inside.” He explain, raising his voice a bit, excited about his country’s food. “It tastes amazing when it’s fresh out the oven. And it’s…” König holds his hand into a fist on the table, using it as a size reference. “It’s this big — the roll, I mean. And Schinkensemmel means ham roll… why are you laughing?”

You can’t help but laugh a little when he passionately describes his favourite bread. “Because you’re cute when you’re drunk, König.” You look at König’s eyes, and he quickly glances away onto something else. He lets out a dry laugh, you wonder if he’s blushing under the hood. “Mein Gott… stop mocking me like this. And I’m not drunk.” He mumbles with a grunt, in denial from your comment.

He’s always like this when you tease or praise him. If you drown him in praises, he’ll let out a frustrated grunt and tell you to cut it off, but nothing is truly aggressive from him, to you. You find that cute too.

“I meant it, even when you’re not drunk. I find you very… charming.” You insists, leaning a little towards him. His warmth is subtlety radiating out of his vest, and he starts to fumble with his fingers and knuckles on the table. He doesn’t say anything. What should he say? He is so flustered by your words. Bar and alcohol and you make his mind melt.

After a minute of silence of his uneasiness, you worry if you went too far. “You’re alright?” You ask, gently putting your hand on his back, comforting him by slowly moving up and down. To your surprise, he doesn’t push your arm away or anything. Instead, he turns his massive frame to you, hesitating. A pair of pretty eyes stare at yours, before he finally puts his head on your shoulder. You can’t help but to smile, feeling him nuzzling a little. You decide to be a bit bold as you slide your fingers from his back to the under of his hood, touching and massaging his neck.

König clearly tenses up for a second, then pushes his head deeper to your neck, letting out a sigh. You tease him as you softened your voice. “If you’re feeling sick, I can carry you back to the base, and we can eat some Käsemel together.” His laugh rumbles deep and intimate by your ear, and he gently wraps his arms around your waist. “It’s Käsesemmel, and you can never carry me, Liebling…” Of course, König is a hulking 300 pounds Goliath, nobody can carry him on the back. But he feels…small, and safe, under your touch. He buries his hooded face on you, so close that you can smell the Jägermeister from his breath. It was strong, he is definitely drunk.

The others are playing by the pool table away from you two. Billiards collide, and one of them cheer loudly. Looks like they will spend the night with pool and poker cards. And König chooses to spend the night with you. Talking, cuddling, anything. He closes his eyes, sits still and holds you in a little more. You smile, keep him comfortable by your side, as he lets himself to be vulnerable just for once.

“So it’s a no for Käsesemmel too?” You ask, then feeling a squeeze from his hand on your waist. “Käsesemmel, with you, always.” He mumbles back, as your touches make him sleepier by the second. He’s drunk, from the shots and drinks, but also from your caress.

#konig #konig x reader #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig cod #könig x reader #könig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig fluff #konig fluff #konig x you #könig x you

[caelivir]

rayne ames relationship hcs (part ii)

— WARNING: creepy behavior from a guy but that’s it

— author’s note. i feel like the author’s note from when i posted this doesn’t apply anymore, but anyway, this is part two but isn’t actually because i lost the first part when i accidentally deleted my account… again im so sorry. ALSO!! the writing is a little different bc i’m cringing rereading my old stuff. (how did u guys let that slide)

— HUGE HUGE HUGE THANK YOU TO @mikadzukis FOR SAVING MY OLD HCS I AM INDEBTED TO U!!!!

rayne ames loves dates with you. he loves them.

but he especially loves picnic dates

you introduced him to the idea on one of his days off

you promised it wasn’t going to be draining because you knew being a visionary is a taxing job

so he agreed

and he loved it

spread across the red and white checkered picnic blanket are plates of grapes, cheese, and sandwiches. two goblets of iced tea rest on top of a wooden board so they can remain balanced.

rayne’s large hands support his weight as he leans back onto the blanket. the half-blonde cranes his neck to stare up at the leaves. rays of sunlight peek through slivers of space between them. a butterfly flutters its wings above him.

“rayne!” you call for his attention.

your lover hums as a reply before directing his eyes toward you, offering his full attention.

“i made something for you.” you speak, grabbing for another basket on the blanket. you lift up the cover, reaching carefully inside it. you pull out a cake platter and set aside the lid that protected the dessert residing on it.

“it’s a cake!” you continue with a smile. “this is the first time you’ve been off in a while so i thought i could make a cake to celebrate! i even decorated it with some bunnies!”

a small grin grows on the visionary’s face. he pushes himself up. rayne takes the platter out of your hand and gently places it on a free board on the blanket. you’re caught in surprise as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. his head finds warmth in the crook of your neck.

“thank you.” he whispers.

rayne’s protective of you

he knows you’re capable of fighting your own battles, but there are certain situations where he just had to take care of it

if someone’s saying things about you or harassing you, he isn’t going to tolerate that

the entirety of easton knows not to mess with you, because messing with you means messing with rayne, and no one wants to put themselves through that

he’s already scary enough as is so all it takes is a couple of threats for the person to leave cowering in fear

you wait outside of the café as rayne uses the restroom. people of all ages each other as they navigate their ways theough marchétte street. one of them approaches you, but it’s not rayne.

“so what’s a fine thing like you doing alone here in the street.” a guy smirks, trailing his eyes up and down your body. you shift uncomfortably. he’s definitely a few years older than you and inches taller than rayne. a single line cuts through his right cheek, indicating his level of magic.

you swallow down an anxious gulp before speaking. “i’m with my boyfriend.”

“tell me gorgeous,” the man’s hand travels down the path of your jaw. you’re disgusted by his touch. “does your boyfriend like to share?”

“i really think you should go.” you respond firmly, shoving the grimy hand away from your face.

the guy chuckles, raising his hands in defense. “no need to get aggressive, sweetheart! i just want to know!”

“and who the hell are you?” a familiar deep voice says from behind you. you turn around to discover rayne, and your eyes light up at his appearance. you’re well acquainted with the detachment and chilling coldness of rayne’s gaze, but now, there’s a fire behind them.

rage.

he’s pissed.

recognition becomes evident in the man’s face, and it dawns on him that he just messed with a divine visionary’s lover, but before he can retreat, rayne steps in front of you. he yanks your harasser down to your level. you don’t know what the half-blonde says, but it’s clear that it sparks fear into the features of the other man. once rayne’s finishes with him, he apologizes profusely before running away in the opposite direction.

the anger behind rayne’s eyes fade; they soften when he finds your gaze. “are you okay.”

you grin. “yeah, now that you’re here.”

rayne lets you wear his robes

whenever you hang out in his dorm, your first instinct is to go through his closet and take them

when you first did it, he was going to protest

but you looked so cute i. them that he decided to let it slide

you especially like wearing them when you nap

though you wearing his robes does pose some problems for him from time to time

“you’re late,” orter points out from his seat at the table. his fingers slide the frame of his glasses up his nose. “and where’s your visionary robe?”

rayne strolls past the desert came, not bothering to answer for his actions. he didn’t want to admit—especially to orter of all people—the reason behind his missing robe.

this morning, just as he was almost ready to leave for the divine visionary meeting, rayne realized that he was missing his robe. the half-blonde searched ever crevice of his dorm but to no avail. rayne sighed, reaching the conclusion that you accidentally took it.

yesterday, he had to run a quick errand while you were napping. upon his return, rayne discovered that you had left. you scribbled a message on a notepad, explaining that you didn’t want to keep intruding. you were probably too tired to realize that you had his war robe in your possession.

rayne could waste any more time making a trip to your dorm. it was a bit of a distance from his. the best decision at the moment was to let you have it and attend the meeting without it.

that is how he ended up in this situation, late and stuck sitting next to ryoh.

“y/n has your robe, don’t they?” ryoh teases in a whisper. for some reason, ryoh had discovered rayne’s relationship with you. whenever the two visionaries crossed paths, his senior never fails to mention you.

the sword cane doesn’t respond. “that’s a yes, isn’t it?” ryoh continues with a shit-eating grin. he pokes the arm of the boy next to him

rayne inhales. gods, he was not going to hear the end of this.

whenever you and rayne are apart due to his job as divine visionary, you communicate through letters sent by owls

he talks about the places he’s at and shit talks the people he doesn’t like

you tell him about you classes and how things are back at the academy, especially things going on within the adler dorm

and you occasionally give him updates on finn because you know deep down rayne cares about him

an owl lands on the sill of the open window of rayne’s temporary room. the animal clamps down on an browned envelope placed in its beak. rayne approaches the bird, and it drops the letter into his hands before flying off.

the mattress of the bend sinks under rayne’s weight when he sits on it. he unfolds the piece of parchment in his hands unsealing the envelope. his eyes scan down the letter that reads:

dear rayne,

how’s your trip? i hope nothing’s gone bad. things back at easton have been the same as usual, but it’s not that fun without you here.

classes are boring, but that’s nothing new. i might rip my brain out. i’ve been baking to try and cope. by the way, when you get back, you have to try this cheese tart i made. i had your brother and a friend of his try them. they seemed to like it a lot. i don’t know the name of the kid yet, but he wants me to make cream puffs next time. he says they’re a lot better than cheese tarts so you’ll have to try those too.

speaking of finn, he’s doing extremely well. he’s making lots of friends which is really nice to see. he always seems nervous to talk to me though. am i intimidating or something. i don’t think i am. unless you’ve been saying some things about me then i think we’re gonna have a problem…

gods, i miss you so much. come back soon. i’ll be waiting for you always. take care of yourself and don’t stress too much. i love you.

- y/n

p.s. please get me a souvenir. thank you! i love you, again.

rayne stands up, finding a sheet of paper and a quill. he pulls out a chair by a table. a slight smile flashes on the visionary’s face as he writes back to you—his home.

#anime #manga #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #mashle x reader #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #rayne x reader #from kor ; ♆

[canisalbus]

I feel like Machete would have the misfortune of everytime he eats a burger (or a sandwich) all the stuff from the inside (cheese, tomato, all the sauce) would fall out and he'd be left with two empty burger buns.

Oh, now you're just being mean to him. These are some 'sad kid dropped his ice cream' vibes.

#that might not actually happen but he'd be keenly aware and worried about the possibility of it happening #I think he might avoid attempting to eat potentially messy foods in public just to be safe #or eat his burgers with a fork and knife #answered #anonymous

[anistarrose]

taz balance one-shot recs!

I've been meaning to make this post for a while now, so here we are! The majority of these are from the past three years or so, because I love a fandom classic as much as anyone, but I particularly want to shine a light on some gems from after the peak of traffic in the fandom tags! There are of course also exceptions that are older, though.

Also, April 19th-21st are Just Leave a Comment Fest, so please show these authors some love!! They're all so deserving!

a recipe for home by @journalofimprobablethings: Taako tries to cook for the first time since Glamour Springs. When things go awry, Lucretia is there to lend a hand.

Gen (Taako & Lucretia), 3.5k. Early B.O.B. era hurt/comfort centered around cooking, with a delicious dollop of sentimentality and dramatic irony on top.

Seven Times Magnus Burnsides Gave Someone A Hug + One Time He Received One by @barry-j-blupjeans: Magnus wasn't really any good at— at words. He was more of an action man. Or, y'know, a "I'll take this hit so you don't have to" man. Talking to someone about their feelings was all kinds of weird, so usually he just left the space for someone else to talk. And, well... Magnus wasn't good at words. But there's a few different ways to get his support across.

Mostly gen with some Magnulia, 8.6k. You've all heard of the classic 5 Plus 1, but obviously Magnus deserves a 7 Plus 1! I don't know how to describe it without spoilers other than being full of incredibly sweet, gentle takes on so many fraught or bittersweet moments. Super underrated, do give it a read.

Embrace the Dark by @ceilingfan5: Bookstore coworkers Kravitz and Taako get more than they bargained for when Taako tries to use his powers to fix Kravitz's migraine. But it's okay--it's an excuse for them to spend time together until one of them can nut up and ask the other out.

Taakitz, 8.9k. Modern with Superpowers AU! Super sweet interactions between Kravitz and Taako, paired with lots of fun background worldbuilding. And, of course, a very special grilled cheese sandwich.

Break This Heavy Chain by Punka_Writes: In the immediate aftermath of Story and Song, Barry Bluejeans could really use a hug.

Blupjeans and misc. platonic interactions, 2.3k. The absolute epitome of comfort food in written form, with excellent Barry characterization (and of course, he does get that hug)!

birds of a feather steal sweaters together by @holdmecloser-gandydancer: When you're a big, burly guy it seems that your clothes just become free reign for all your friends. Normally Magnus is a reasonable guy, but everyone has their limits.

Gen (IPRE crew), 1.9k. Starblaster era fluff! Everyone is written absolutely delightfully, and every time I read it I snort out loud at least twice.

Security by @ceilingfan5: Barry has finally made it--his incredible scientific discovery has landed him a huge fortune...and a lot of problems. The only good thing that's come of it, honestly, has been his bodyguard, Lup. (And the science. That's good also.) He's just gotta stay normal about how nice it is to have someone like Lup around, and also not perish by way of press circuit, and everything will be fine.

Blupjeans, 6k. Modern with magic AU from Barry's POV, featuring equal parts anxiety and pining. Also, it's straight-up extremely funny.

Lonesome Dreams by @jerreeeeeee: Taako wakes up one morning from a nightmare, fast fading. There was a guy in glasses, and they were… somewhere high up? Something terrible happened, but he doesn’t remember. He wakes up in a wagon he’s never seen before, but it has his name on it. There’s tons of food inside, more than he’d be able to afford. And he’s alone. Thinking back to the last thing he remembers is difficult. College? No, he’d graduated. Top of his class, obviously, he remembers that. But what- what happened after? Where is Lup?

Gen (Taako & Lup), 10.2k. Everything starts out the same, except Taako remembers Lup, even if not how she went missing, and it's incredibly underrated and full of phenomenal characterization. I won't spoil how things shake out, but it's a great emotional ride and I genuinely reread it all the time.

it's my party and I'll mope if I want to by @holdmecloser-gandydancer: Taako's birthday is just another Thursday. A detective and an old friend have a different idea.

Gen (Taako & Lucretia & Angus), 2.1k. Short and so sweet! Fics about voidfished!Taako's birthday never get old, and this is one of my absolute favorites. Nailing the angst-to-wholesome ratio.

Tedious Familiarity by @barry-j-blupjeans: Déjà vu. Noun. A feeling of having already experienced the present situation. A tedious familiarity. Barry Bluejeans woke up in a cave, fresh out of a pod filled with green goop, and saddled with an unsettling feeling that he had been here before. If you had asked forty-year-old Barry if he would follow instructions left by a talking coin, he probably would have asked you what type of drugs you were on. But, y’know, fifty… two? Fifty-one? How old was he? Fifty-two sounded right. But, y’know, fifty-two years old Barry didn’t really have that many other places to turn, so this couldn't be all that bad.

Gen, 4.1k. Missing scenes based off Barry's decade alone, written in such an effective style, where all the little details truly make it. Mandatory reading for fellow Barry angst enjoyers.

Angus McDonald and the Wonderland Escape Rooms by coppersunshine: When Angus gets grounded from detecting, to keep his skills sharp he becomes a patron of the Wonderland Escape rooms, run by Edward and Lydia, who quickly decide he's their new nemesis. To their surprise, Angus and the collection of weird adults he's accompanied by decide otherwise.

Gen (Angus & Edward & Lydia), 7k. Modern with magic AU, putting Edward and Lydia in the absolute funniest possible job, at which a little boy detective torments... and maybe, even gives them a chance to turn over a new leaf. I am of the opinion that Angus and the Wonderland twins have a criminally underexplored dynamic, and this fic gave me everything I wanted.

If the Sun and Moon Should Doubt by Punka_Writes: Merle Highchurch, on the brink of a bad decision.

Gen, 1.6k. Merle character study immediately before running out on his marriage. Truly the incredible characterization that Merle deserves; this was a fic that really ignited my love for him.

Greensleeves by @sgrumby: Kravitz has never seen a lich like this before, and he's seen a lot of liches. Merle is just trying to save the universe, thanks very much.

Gen (Kravitz & Merle), 2.2k. A unique and also absolutely genius Lich!Merle AU where Kravitz inevitably comes after him, and Merle is... well, the Peacemaker, of course!

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #fic rec #long post

[estellxli]

Banana (Kazuha x Reader)

It was just an afternoon, like any other, with the winds blowing a soothing tune from the outside. The room warmed from the invited sun. A piece of ham plops into the sizzling pan accompanied by another. With a spatula in one hand, Kazuha’s thoughts drift elsewhere.

His brows furrows and the grip on the spatula tightens. The heat coming from the pan did not compare to the rage building inside him. He mindlessly flips the two hams over and takes a deep breath. Maintaining a cool mind. Nonetheless, if any of his suspicions were true he would—

The kettle's loud angry scream drowns out the sizzling; disturbing Kazuha with his thoughts. 

His hands move to put out the fire, for both the pan and the kettle, and grabs an empty plate. The spatula transferring the ham to the porcelain plate. Kazuha moves swiftly in the kitchen , preparing sweets, sliced cheese and a newly made sandwich all placed in a wooden tray. 

He grabs the now calmed kettle and works his way into making a matcha latte. One that he bought after arriving back in Inazuma from his trip with Beidou. Apparently, it helps in menstrual pain, something about an acid that helps relax the muscles of the uterus… or something along those lines that a saleslady said to him. 

Kazuha makes way to your bedroom with the wooden tray in his hands. He uses the door ajar to his advantage, his foot placed in between the space created by the door and the wall and using his hip to open the door wider. 

You were on the bed just the same as he left the room. All curled up in the blanket like a pita pocket. 

“Y/N.”

You turn to him, with your head barely popping out of the thick fabric. The corner of your lips immediately turn into a big smile as you squeal. Cries from your insides all momentarily gone as you sit up and excitedly pat the empty side of the bed. 

All because of Kazuha. 

… 

Mostly because of the food. 

Your boyfriend chuckles at your childish actions. You eyed at the wooden tray as you felt the bed embrace his weight. The chocolates are your first pick. 

Kazuha’s eyes remained on the bruise that stained your skin as you took a bite of the chocolate. Lips still curled upwards while chewing. 

“Is it to your liking?”

“Very.”

His eyes drop on the tray, noticing the ripples of the matcha. “Here, try this one too, I heard it helps with the cramps?”. 

You grab the chawan cup from his hands, nodding at his warning that it's still hot. The matcha warms your insides, something that the hot compress laying at your stomach couldn't do. 

Kazuha gulps. 

“Y/N”

“Hm?” You look at him innocently, palms still embracing the warm cup. 

“Is someone bullying you?”

Your doed eyes turn into confusion.

“Look, if someone ever tries to harm you, you know you can always come to me. I'll burn them with hot iron, slice —”

You chuckle at him, his turn now to be confused. You chuckle even when you hear the seriousness in his voice. When he's offering help and protection. 

“Kazuha, no one is harming me. Whatever makes you think that?” you say as you place down the cup

“Your bruises.” he says, soft and stern altogether. 

“Ah… that.” you stare at the bruise painting your skin, and you giggle even more. 

You turn your eyes into another direction and cover your lips to stifle the laughter, but you couldn't help it.

“Sorry, sorry.. it's just.. pfft…”

You look back at him, your lips still smiling. 

“I promise no one is harming me. I mean that genuinely. It's just that… I bruise very easily whenever I'm on my period.”

Kazuha’s brows furrow even more into confusion. 

“I'm serious!... Every woman has different symptoms when they're on their period. Some don't feel cramps, some do to the extent of fainting. Women bruising easily isn't common, but they exist.”

“I see.” 

Kazuha’s confused state now returns to his usual one. He raises his hands and hides his chin over his index. 

“Mhm!” you exclaim happily with the misunderstanding out of the way. 

He looks back at you and smiles, his hands now reaching for a piece of chocolate. 

“For you to bruise easily like that, you're practically like a banana.” he chuckingly teased. 

“A what!?”

Kazuha grins, carefully shoving the chocolate into your opened lips as he mouths, 

“A banana"

#kazuha #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact #fluff #fluff/comfort #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x y/n

[lilyrizzy]

continuation of my outsider pov fic i wrote a million years ago. maybe someone will enjoy! cw: medical drama

When Sophie comes back to the waiting room, Daniel is still sleeping. He’s not wearing the Red Bull Racing t-shirt anymore, her son’s she’s since realized, and has instead replaced it with a non-descript grey jumper. Only the oversized sweatpants have stayed, his top long enough to cover the tiny 33 stitched into the pocket.

Arms folded tightly over his chest, there’s a frown creasing his brow that gives away the tension that must be holding his body tight, even as he sleeps. The strange white-blue light from the vending machine opposite bathes his face, making him look more tired than he did earlier in the soft orange glow of Max’s kitchen. Their kitchen.  

It adds to the guilt twisting itself up into knots inside her stomach, the thought of waking him up, but he’s twitching, uncomfortable, and she wants somebody to talk to.

It’s late. Victoria is on a plane.

“Daniel,” she says, touching his shoulder as gently as she can. It’s enough to have him jerking awake anyway, eyes darting around the room before landing on her face. There’s a moment, a flicker of confusion, then-

“Max?” He asks, his voice cracked down the middle with sleep-tinged terror, and- “is he-”

“There is no change Daniel,” Sophie assures him quickly, “we are still waiting for him to wake up.” Then, because he’ll want to know, “the doctor has been though.”

His expression clouds, the sky before a thunderstorm.

“You should have woken me up,” is all he says, but she can hear the words he doesn’t speak.

I deserve to be involved.

Gone is the man who just hours earlier stayed home in Max’s clothes. Since being in the hospital it’s been all vicious demands for information, for medicines, for miracles. As though proximity and looking through the window into the hospital room they aren’t allowed to enter yet reminded him of his rightful place in Max’s life.

That, or fear.

“I- I thought you would like to sleep,” She tries, but it’s only a half-truth. Max is her baby, and she is not used to sharing him with anybody but his father, who has already flown home to his new wife, his two new babies.

She expects more of a fight, but Daniel eventually just nods, shoves his thumbnail into his mouth and starts to chew at it’s edges.

“Right, yeah, of course- Sorry,” he mumbles around it, eyes glancing between the door, the clock and the floor.

Standing over him, for a moment she feels lost. Uncertain of what to do, what to say.

“I brought you some food though,” she settles on, remembering what made her wander away from the room in the first place. She takes the two prepackaged sandwiched out from under her arm where she’s been squashing them. “You should eat something,” she adds in what Victoria calls her mother-knows-best tone when Daniel just stares at her. “I did not know what you would like, but I thought everyone likes cheese, yes?”

She holds it out to him, and to her surprise, that gets him to smile. Awkwardly, hand touching the back of his neck.

“Actually, um- I’m lactose intolerant,” he says like an apology with a shrug.

Of course.

“Oh.” Then holding out the other packet instead, “here. I have this one, also. Roast chicken.”

Something flickers over Daniel’s face, and for a moment she’s worried he’s about to tell her he’s a fucking vegetarian, when she realises it’s softness. The deep lines of his worry momentarily smoothing.

“This is great, Sophie,” he promises softly, taking it from her outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

She takes a seat beside him in the plastic chair, feels every uncomfortable ridge of it press into her skin. A constant, aching reminder of where she is and why. An inescapable reality. Daniel opens his sandwich, but the lead weight in her stomach makes her a hypocrite, makes her put hers down on the empty chair besides her.

There’s no one else around, it's long past visiting hours. She tries not to think about what that must mean, that they’ve let them stay sat in this purgatory. That no one has told them, ‘go home, there won’t be any change.’ There could be change, and they both know it could go either way.

There’s nothing. No nurses, no doctors, no priest in the hospital chapel. She already checked. Just the ticking of the clock above both their heads, driving her insane.

“Before you said, 6 years,” she plucks from the silence to stop it choking her. Beside her, she feels Daniel tense. “That is a long time.”

He takes a bite of food and chews for a long time in favour of answering.

“Yeah. It is,” is all she gets once he’s swallowed. She nods, turning her body towards him, to try to get him to meet her eye.

“And you are- You are happy together, yes?”

This time there is no hesitation.

“Yes.” As though it could be anything other than the truth.

He still won’t look at her though, staring instead at the crusts of the bread.

“Even- Even though you race each other?” She pushes, because even an argument right now would be better than silence. Would help each of them to feel less alone, give them somewhere to lay down a little of the hurt.

For a moment, Sophie thinks he isn’t going to answer. Then, Daniel dumps his food onto the chair next to him too and finally turns to face her.

“Look, it’s- It hasn’t been all smooth sailing, I won’t lie to you,” Daniel allows, after another beat. His eyes search her face, as though looking for permission to go on. She nods again, but doesn’t speak. “This, ah, this season hasn’t been great for me. It might be my last, but Max, he- He helps. He calls me on my bullshit when I need it, he- Well I would be a lot less happy without him.”

He cringes then, like he’s worried he’s said too much, then continues quickly, almost defensively-

“But I look after him too, I do. I do a good job of making him happy too, I-"

Shaking his head, he breaks off before lifting his hands to bury his face into his palms.

I look after him too, Sophie turns over in her brain, and isn’t that all she ever wanted for Max? How badly has she failed for him to question that enough to feel he needed to hide from her.

Whatever she was looking for, she hasn’t found it in making Daniel look defeatedly back at the floor.

“I am sure you do,” she promises, though there is a mountain of undeniable evidence against her having any idea. She reaches to touch his shoulder, tentative. “Max is not somebody to do anything he does not want to. I think you would not have lasted 6 months if you did not. 6 years, is- “

It’s a lifetime, when you are twenty. She knows people who have married, separated and divorced in less time.

“I’m glad he got to have that,” she finishes, words forced past the tightness of her throat, “if- I’m glad.”

Daniel's head snaps back around to look at her. For a moment, his face goes perfectly still, before awful realization crests over it.

“Incase-“ She tries, but she doesn’t get another word out. Daniel is jumping to his feet, coming to crouch in front of her. Hands on her knees he looks up at her shaking his head.

“No, no, no,” he says, firmer than she’s heard him be before now, “Sophie, no. None of that okay, I cant- I can’t hear that right now. Max is going to be fine.”

The taste of salt at the corner of her mouth surprises her. She’s crying. When she speaks again, shaking her head too, her voice is cracked.

“But-“

“He’s going to be fine,” Daniel interrupts, and she doesn’t know who he is trying to convince more. “In a couple of hours they’re going to take us to his room, and- And he’s going to laugh at us for being so worried, okay?”

She rubs her fingertips over her eyes, smearing her tears across her face. All she wants is Daniel’s words to be true. It’s all she wants in the world.

“You do not know what,” she says because it’s what makes him seem so cruel to her right now. How can he promise a mother that her baby will be fine when he knows nothing more than she does?

But when he hangs his head, hand still clutching her kneecaps, she feels guilty for trying to take his hope from him.

“I love him,” he tells the tiled hospital floor. “He has to be okay, Sophie, I- I love him.”

#urgh idkkkkkk #if this is okay or not but #posting anyway #fic #max/daniel #happy ending to come...i promise...

[moonstruckme]

Hello my darling

I have returned with another Peter Parker request🤭

Imagine Peter and reader are really good friends (they've known each other since they were little) and Peter just looks over at reader one day and realizes he's in love with her. It just hits him suddenly

Thank youuu

-🔮

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 801 words

Peter whistles as you open the front door, craning his neck to look behind you at your half-decorated apartment. “First solo place,” he says, kicking off his shoes. “Not bad, not bad.” 

“For the rent? I think you mean to say excellent,” you correct him, moving into the kitchen. “You wish you had an apartment as sick as this, Parker.” 

Peter laughs, taking in the tiny kitchen, the fortunate south-facing windows spilling light across the space. “I just wish I had an apartment,” he agrees.

Your hum is half amusement, half apology. “I was about to have lunch,” you tell him, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Want something?”

“Sure,” Peter says, “I’ll have whatever you’re having.” 

You laugh. “I’m having peanut butter with honey and banana, I know you don’t want in on that.” 

Peter wrinkles his nose. Your sweet tooth never ceases to amaze him. “Freak.” 

You turn on the stove, unphased by his disgust. “I can make you a grilled cheese,” you offer. 

He leans his elbows on the counter, raising his eyebrows at you. “You’re stocking cheese? You hate cheese.” 

“No way, I totally forgot.” You’re both sardonic and fond as you roll your eyes, ducking into the fridge and emerging a moment later with a slice of cheese. “I knew you’d be here and hungry eventually.” 

That’s more touching than it has any right to be. 

“Good forethought,” Peter says, casually as he can. “Yeah, grill me a cheese, sweetheart.” 

You nod, smoothing butter over two slices of bread in easy habit, placing one in the pan to sizzle and making the sandwich on top of it. While the cheese melts, you get started on your own monstrosity, reaching up into the cabinet for the peanut butter. The honey’s on a higher shelf, and you seem to consider it for a moment before gripping the fridge for balance and hauling yourself up onto the counter. 

“Whoa, don’t do that,” Peter says, hurrying into the kitchen to help.

“I’ve got it,” you argue, but you’re already precarious, leaning back to open the cabinet further and nearly slipping off the edge of the counter in your socks. Peter sets a hand on either side of your waist.

“No, what am I here for?” He encourages you off the ledge, waiting until you’ve got your feet under you before letting you go. 

“You can’t be my permanent solution, though,” you laugh, taking the honey from him when he passes it down to you. “I’ll have to figure it out eventually.” 

“Then you should have thought ahead and picked a place without high shelves,” Peter chides, taking over grilled cheese duties while you cut up your banana. “Now you’ll just have to call me over anytime you want something. It’s the only way.” 

You shoot him a look that’s clearly intended to be mean, but you can’t manage it, the corners of your lips twitching mutinously. Peter bumps you with his hip to let you know he sees, and your smile comes out in full force, squishing your eyes and showing off the dimple in your one cheek. Even your nose gets in on the action, wrinkling slightly at the bridge when you let out a little laugh. 

That laugh echoes in your tiny kitchen, and something happens in Peter’s chest. His heart twinges. It almost hurts, but there’s an odd pleasantness to it. His body feels too small for this hugeness, this incandescent, aching fondness that feels like it should be visibly glowing inside him. 

You bend over your work, and Peter’s struck with the loveliness of you. You’ve always been pretty—Peter’s not blind, he’s noticed it over the years—but this is different. You’re…he feels different.

“Whoa,” your voice is soft, chiding but not really as you nudge him aside, taking a spatula from beside the stove and flipping his sandwich. “Jesus, Pete, I’d have thought you’d be more practiced at this. Too used to me doing it for you?”

Peter blinks down at the pan. The slice of bread you’ve flipped over is nearly black. 

“Hey.” You look up at him, eyes wide and wavering between bemusement and concern. Pretty. Peter can just barely see the faint remains of your summer freckles under each eye, faded after months spent indoors. They’ll come back in the spring, just like they have every year since you were kids. Like you’re synched with the flowering trees. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Not really. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck. “Yeah, uh, you want me to grab us something to drink?”

“Sure. Water’s in the fridge, I’ll get cups.” 

Peter digs through your fridge until he gets to the water, emerging to find you crawling back up onto the counter, reaching for cups on the top shelf. 

“Jesus Christ.”

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x self insert #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fanfic #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker drabble #tasm!peter parker scenario #tasm!peter parker oneshot #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm peter parker #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter friends to lovers

[celandeline]

If You Never Shoot, You Never Know

Carl Grimes X Reader, Part 1 [previous part | next part]

All you want to do is eat. 

You’re almost dead on your feet, exhausted after a day-long supply run with Daryl. For all your trouble, it had turned into a bit of a shitshow in the end, really, how were either of you supposed to know that there had been two dozen walkers in the basement? But you’re alive, and you’re back behind the walls of Alexandria, and Rick had seemed grateful for what supplies you had managed to scrounge up. So you feel entitled to treating yourself to grilled cheese. 

You relax back against the island of your kitchen as you flip on the stove, dropping some butter in your frying pan to begin to melt. The delicious smell of frying butter begins to fill the room, and you close your eyes, savoring the scent. God, you’re starving. 

A knock at your door interrupts the pleasant, buttery thoughts in your head, and you groan, trudging out of the kitchen. You already know who it is - no doubt the moment he saw you get home, he started over…

You whip open the door and lean against the frame, looking down at the boy on your porch. “What?”

Carl Grimes, with a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in his fist, smiles at you. “Brought you flowers.” He says, holding them out to you. 

He’s been doing this for months now. Purposefully volunteering for work that he knows you’re doing, making up any excuse to spend time at your house, going out of his way to bring you things - your favorite snacks, a ring with your favorite color stone in it, a shirt for a band that you like, now also flowers. It’s cute, this little crush he has on you. But turning him down is getting a little tedious. 

You sigh. “Carl, we’ve got to stop doing this.” Still, you hold your hand out for the flowers. 

“Dunno what you mean.” He says even though he definitely does. He hands you the bouquet. “Can I come in?”

You hesitate for a minute, examining the flowers he’d brought. All pretty, all in shades of your favorite color. “Your dad know where you are? Or is he gonna come busting down my door looking for you again?”

His cheeks redden as you reference the worst afternoon of both of your lives. “I told him.”

“Sure then.” You say, holding the door open so that he can slip inside. “‘M making dinner if you’re hungry. Grilled cheese.”

“If you don’t mind.” He says, wiping his boots on your rug before stepping inside. Always the gentleman. 

You look at him, exasperated. “When have I ever minded?” You ask, shutting the door and heading back into the kitchen, flowers in hand. 

“Just trying to be polite.” He says, following after you. 

You set the bouquet of flowers down on the island before turning back to your pan, dropping four slices of bread into the bubbling butter to begin frying. Carl makes himself comfortable on one of your barstools, watching as you pull a tall cracked glass out of one of your cabinets and fill it with water before dropping the flowers in. You set the makeshift vase in the center of the island with a smile. “Thanks.” You say. “They’re pretty.”

He grins. “They made me think of you.” He says. “Thought you might like them.”

You say nothing, ignoring how his little flirtatious comment makes you feel and instead focusing on the sandwiches. For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen is that of sizzling butter as you flip the slices of bread, until Carl speaks again. 

“How was your day?” He asks. 

“Alright.” You sigh. “Not as good as it could’ve been, but there’s always tomorrow. Now that Daryl and I know what we’re getting into, it should be easier to handle. And we can always bring more people with us.”

“I could come.” He offers immediately. 

You shake your head. “You’ve got your own jobs. Plus,” You joke. “I don’t need you distracting me while I’m trying to kick walker ass.”

He tilts his head, a little smirk at the corner of his lips. “Do I distract you?”

“You wish.” You say.

“I do.” He shoots back, unashamed. 

It’s annoying, how good he is at this. Makes it all the harder to keep reminding yourself why you can’t just give in to his advances. You’re three years older than him - which wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t freshly eighteen, but he is. And you’re already on Rick’s shit list when it comes to Carl - he’d almost throttled you when he found out Carl had asked you to sneak him some alcohol the next time you went on a run. He’d been furious, that day he was pounding on your door demanding to know where his son was - said he didn’t want him hanging around you, that you were ‘corrupting’ him. You can’t imagine what he’d do to you if you actually were to corrupt his boy, as he’d put it. 

“Carl.” You sigh, flipping the bread again, making sure all the sides are a delicious golden brown. 

“Sorry.” He says, not sounding sorry at all. “I know.”

And he does know - you’ve talked about it a lot, why this could never work. But the logic doesn’t seem to have deterred him at all. 

“You’ve gotta drop it.” You say, folding some slices of cheese into the bread, two fully formed sandwiches sliding around the buttery pan now. You have to swallow to stop your mouth from watering. 

“But you like it.” He says. 

You roll your eyes. 

“C’mon, you do.” He says, grinning as he gestures to the bouquet on display. “You would’ve actually told me to fuck off if you didn’t.” His icy blue eyes find yours. “If you tell me to fuck off, I will, you know that.”

You do know. But selfishly, you don’t want to tell him to go, even though you should. It’s silly to keep doing this when Rick will never ever let it happen, but he’s wormed his way into your affections. You like him. He’s sweet, and funny, and a great shot, and has the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. And you like that he likes you, for whatever reason. 

You scoop the sandwiches out of the pan and onto a plate before flipping the stove off. Coming around the island, you slide onto the barstool next to him, placing the plate between the two of you. You don’t bother waiting for him before you grab one for yourself, digging in. You swallow with a satisfied sigh. “God, I was starving.”

Carl bites into his own sandwich with a smile. “Thanks.” He says around a mouthful. “‘S good.”

“Welcome.” You say around another mouthful.

The kitchen is largely silent as you and Carl eat, until there’s nothing but crumbs left on the plate. Your stomach no longer threatening to start devouring your insides, you sink into the barstool, the exhaustion from your run finally catching up to you. You sigh, contentedly, and Carl smiles.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asks, his voice taking on that nervous tone that means he’s going to ask some mushy romantic stuff. 

Even though you shouldn’t keep entertaining this, you say, “Sure.”

His gaze set on the marble countertop, he idly rolls a crumb between two fingers, contemplative. “If my dad wasn’t in the equation, would you let me date you?” His eyes shift under his hat, glancing quickly over to you. 

You should say no, even if it’s not the truth. If Rick wasn’t part of the equation - or even if you were in his good graces - you’d let Carl date you. Of course you would. But that’s not how things are - as is, Rick would mount your head on a spike. You should say no. But when those icy blue eyes are boring into your soul, it’s hard to be dishonest. “Yeah.” You say, playing it off with a shrug. “Seems like the only way to get you to stop pestering me with flowers and whatnot.”

Carl grins, the kind of smile that only comes from getting exactly what you want. “Follow up question,” He starts, grin turning mischievous. “If we just didn’t tell my dad anything, would you-”

“Absolutely not, no.” You laugh. “You want to fool around in secret? That would make everything a thousand times worse, what are you thinking? If Rick ever found out-”

Carl turns in his seat to face you, sliding a hand across the marble countertop to interlace his fingers with yours. “Please.” He says. “You already said that if getting in trouble with my dad wasn’t a problem you’d be okay with us being a thing. If he never finds out, what’s the problem?”

You shove down the feeling that shoots through you when he laces his fingers together with yours. “I’m still older than you. You’re barely an adult, I mean, have you ever even had a girlfriend before?”

His cheeks redden. “No.”

“I can’t be the first. I can’t set the standard for all of your relationships after this one. You should date someone your own age, I’m sure there’s plenty of girls around here that have crushes on you-”

“I don’t want to date someone my own age.” Carl says. “The people my age here have been sheltered in Alexandria almost their whole lives. They don’t know what it’s like outside these walls. Talking to them feels like talking to middle schoolers.” He squeezes your hand. “But you know what it’s like out there, you’re out there with the groups going on supply runs all the time. You know how to defend yourself, and you’re not afraid of the walkers. I can actually talk to you about that stuff. And if anything were to ever happen, if walkers were to get in the walls again, I know you’d be able to take care of yourself.”

The way he looks at you with such admiration makes your heart do a funny flip in your chest. “You make this very hard, you know.” You tease, trying to ignore the urge to kiss him. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” He says. “I don’t care that my dad thinks you’re a bad influence, and I don’t care that you’re older than me. I like you because you’re strong, and you’re pretty, and you’re the funniest person I know. It shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

You tilt your head and sigh, squeezing his hand back. “You’re right. It shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks.” You say. “But unfortunately it does. Your dad calls the shots around here, and it’s bad enough that he already doesn’t like me. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“What if I talk to him?” Carl asks. “It’s not really your fault that he doesn’t like you, I’m the one who asked you to sneak me alcohol, I could explain-”

“It’s already a done deal.” You say. “And I don’t blame Rick for being pissed with me for that, I should have had the wherewithal to tell you no.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t.” He says. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” You say. Your gaze shifts to the window above the sink, the orange sun sinking below the horizon outside. “You should probably go home. It’s getting dark.”

Carl’s gaze follows yours, and he sighs. “Probably should.” He agrees sullenly. Slowly, he rises from his seat. “Thanks for the grilled cheese. And for talking to me.”

“You know you’re welcome anytime.” You say, standing up from your seat as well, despite your protesting muscles. 

You walk him to the door, holding it open as he steps out onto the porch. He turns back to look at you, that mischievous glint in his eye again. “Can I do something?” He asks, voice low. 

“Do what?” You shoot back, skeptical. 

He doesn’t answer, instead just stepping closer to you, his eye darting down to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze again. He approaches slow, giving you plenty of time to back away if you want to, but you don’t even though you should. The image of Rick standing on his porch across the street flares in your mind, but you still don’t pull away, and let Carl’s lips meet yours in a tender embrace. 

This kiss only lasts for a short moment before he’s pulling back, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “G’night.” He says.

“Night.” You return, stepping back through the threshold of your doorway before you do something stupid like kiss him again. You watch him retreat down your porch steps, catching the last grin he throws over his shoulder before he darts across the street, back home. 

Closing your door, you sigh hopelessly into the silence of your home. He’s going to be the death of you, one way or another.

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #twd #the walking dead

[thegeeksideofsr]

What do you want?

Ford! Reader

A/n: I am alive!! I know I haven't posted a story in almost a year, but I managed this one! I have some ideas to pull out of my head but it might take a while. Thank you to everyone who has been enjoying and supporting my stories. You have no idea how much it mean to me.

cw: Beaten up Eliot, a client in a bad relationship

The end of the day finally came. A day of dealing with screwed up supply orders, a chef being cut so badly they had to go to the hospital, and a dead car battery needing to be jumped by a coworker, it was finally time to go home.

So when the last door was locked, and the car was leaving the lot, I could finally relax and not have to wait for another shoe to drop.

I lock my car in the driveway, and dragged my self to my apartment door, locking it behind me, then kick my shoes of by the door.

I drop my purse the side table and take off my coat to hang on it's hook, shaking of the rain that started on the ride home, before head to my bedroom to get a change of clothes before I take a long, hot shower to wash the day away.

Once I'm done and dressed in comfy clothes, I head to the kitchen. I fill my water kettle, then place it on a burner to heat.

I turn to look through the fridge, then the cupboards, then the fridge again for something to snack on, but nothing seems to spark my interest, even though I can't remember when I last ate, so I decide on something simple.

I pull out some of the grapes I had in there and some cheese slices. I grab a box of crackers then begin making a small stack of cracker, cheese, and a grape. I pop the stack in my mouth as the kettle begins to whistle.

I turn off the burner, then grab my favorite mug and tea, and pour the hot water, enjoying the smell waft through the room.

I continue eating in peaceful silence while my tea steeps.

A knock on the door breaks the quiet.

I turn to check the time on the clock. 12:09. Who in the world could be at the door at this time of night. They should be in bed asleep, hell, I should be in bed.

I walk over to the door, stepping around my shoes. I look through the peephole to see Eliot soaking wet in a dark jacket and knit hat, and face swollen and bruised.

I step back from the door unlocking it it quickly before I opened it.

"Eliot? What the hell happened? You look like you got his by a buss."

He blinks. Then shakes his head.

"More like a army." He chuckles, then gestures to his head. "Probable concussion. I shouldn't be alone right now, and thought maybe I could spend a few hours with you?"

"Eliot, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in a hospital resting?"

" I don't do hospitals."

I sigh, grab his hand to pull him inside, close the door behind us, and drag him to the living room.

"Do you need anything? Ice? Food?"

He shakes his head gently as he sits on the couch, leaning his head back to rest on the back of the couch. I sit of the coffee table in front of him, a hand resting in his knee.

"Eliot, when was the last time you ate?"

He's quite for a moment, then shrugs.

" Right," I sigh as I stand, holding a hind out for him to take, " I'm gonna make you something to eat, and I do expect you to eat it, then you are going to get some rest. Here on the couch, or the spare room, your choice."

He places his hand in mine and I pull him to his feet, then lead him to the kitchen, making him sit at the small table in the corner.

"Sit here. I want to keep an eye on you."

I don't give him time to protest before moving about the kitchen, and begin pulling out ingredients for a grilled cheese from the fridge and cupboard, setting them on the counter. Getting my favorite pan from is hanging spot, and placing it on the stove.

I slice some cheese and butter two slices of rye bread, then place the cheese down on one slice, and the second piece on top. I place the sandwich on the pan and ignite the stove, turning it to low.

I let it cook while I mix up a mug of tea for Eliot. Getting it just right before placing it in front of him.

I smile at him, then turn back to the stove and flip the grill cheese over, the pan sizzling as the butter hits the pan.

I turn back to face Eliot sitting at the table. His hands wrapped around the mug, eyes closed. I take in his appearance, one eye is swollen shut, and a bruise blooms on his cheek.

I turn back to the stove and shut off the stove and place the sandwich on a plate.

"Eliot, what happened?" I ask, as I walk to table and set the plate in front of him.

He looks at me, then let's out a sigh and begins telling me in between bites about the latest job, helping a young mom leave her abusive husband, who had ties to some powerful people. And they had kidnapped the woman's little boy, and he and Parker went to get him.

"Was getting beaten to a pulp part of the plan?" I ask him as I take his hand in mine.

"I can take the punishment." He squeezes my hand slightly. "It was my job to retrieve her kid. It's what I do."

We sit in silence, hand in hand, until he grumbles.

"I like your way of distracting guards much better." He rasps.

"Me too," I smile. "Not as painful."

" I don't think Nate would agree." He chuckles.

" My dad knows I am a grown woman, and can do want I want. Besides, I saved that job."

"Yes, you did."

A long moment passes before I speak.

" You haven't come around since that job." I rub his knuckles, focused on a small scar near his ring finger.

" I've been 'round. We've seen each other -"

" Yes, but-" I interrupt, then hesitate.

"But what?"

I take a deep breath.

"But you haven't been here." I gesture to my apartment as I stress the last word. "You haven't come over to cook together, or watch a movie, or listen to me rant about co-owning a restaurant. You have barely looked me in the eye since then.

"And I know you guys have jobs, and that the world doesn't revolve around me, but we kissed, El. Once here, in my kitchen, and again on that job. And I would do it again if you wanted to."

I take another breath after my small rant at him. He still just sits, in his chair, Stoick as ever.

I let my body deflate at his silence. I release his hand, then stand up and head to the stove and to the pan I left there, now cool enough to handle.

I turn on the water and soap the sponge. I wash the pan, then set it in the drying rack. I wash the other items I used, that add them to the dryer.

"I don't want to mess things up. I don't want to mess with the team, or you." He explains. "I haven't had anything serious in a long time."

"You're serious about me?"

"As a heart attack," his voice has a laugh behind it, but then his tone changes. "But I don't think Nate would approve."

I turn to look at him. He's looking at the table, picking at his fingertips.

"What does my dad and his approval have to do with you and I?"

"He knows me," He sighs out. "He knows some of my past and-"

He stops, looking away from me.

"Eliot I don't care about your past. With women or the jobs you've taken. I am much more interested in a future. If that's what you want."

We sit there in near defining silence.

"Eliot what do you want?"

He finally looks at me, his face full of emotions.

"You." He grumbles. " For as long as you'll have me."

"You have me." I whisper.

He takes a deep breath, nods to him self, then places his hand on the table and stands up.

He rounds the table towards me, his steps full of purpose.

He walks up to me, his body is close enough to mine that I can feel the heat radiating from him.

"Will you, Miss Ford, go on a date with me?" He whispers.

"Yes," I whisper back.

"Can I kiss you?"

I nod.

He cups my face in his hands, leans in and presses a sweet kiss to my lips.

******************

Eliot Spencer Tag list

@spencereliotwinchester @fictional-hooman @skyeofbees @kimberkingrivers

#eliot spencer #eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer imagine #eliot spencer fanfic #christian kane #leverage #Ford! reader

[jeusussavearmyveteran1205]

I was raised in a little town and never once questioned my parent's income, it was never a discussion. We didn't eat a lot of fast food because it was considered a treat, not a food group. We drank Kool-Aid made from water that came from our kitchen sink with real sugar. And juice from a cardboard canister in the frozen section. We ate fried egg sandwiches, fried bologna sandwiches, some even ate tuna (which was in a can, not a pouch), PB&J & grilled cheese sandwiches, hot dogs(straight out of the fridge), but mostly homemade meals consisting of meat, potatoes, and vegetables, and pot roast or fried chicken on Sundays after church. We grew up during a time when we mowed lawns, pulled weeds, babysat, helped neighbors with chores to be able to earn our own money. We by no means were given everything we wanted. We went outside a lot to play, ride bikes, run with friends, play hide and seek, or went swimming, horseback riding, played wiffle ball and basketball!! We rarely just sat inside. We drank tap water from the water hose outside, bottled water was unheard of. You LEARNED from your parents instead of disrespecting them and treating them as if they knew absolutely nothing. What they said was LAW, and you did not question it, and you had better know it! We watched what we said around our elders because we knew if we DISRESPECTED any grown-up we would get our behinds whipped, it wasn't called abuse, it was called discipline! We held doors, carried groceries, and gave up our seat for an older person without being asked. You didn't hear curse words on the radio in songs or TV, and if you cursed and got caught you had a bar of soap stuck in your mouth. “Please, Thank you, yes please, no thank you, yes ma'am, no ma'am yes sir, and no sir were part of our daily vocabulary! Consider Re-posting if you're thankful for your childhood. I will never forget where I came from and only wish children nowadays had half the chance at the fun and respect for real life we grew up with! And we were never bored!

[nburkhardt]

Somebody Loves You, You Got a Friend (part 7)

Other parts: one, two, three, four, five, six

We’re back again! The start takes place immediately after the last part & more time jumping lol. I guess trigger warning for breast feeding? Tho it’s not that detailed really 🤷‍♀️ better to be safe ✌️ (quick reminder: this is a slice of life, nearly no plot type of fic)

Any sort of tension he got was wiped away simply by pulling into the driveway. As he opens the front door he’s met with Eleanor crying, following the sound he finds Steve making a beeline for Eleanor.

“You good?” He steps closer to the omega, “Ellie good?”

Steve whips his head around and grins before pulling Eleanor up to him, “just a little tired. She’s just upset I had to use the bathroom”

He laughs, “you eat today?”

Steve turns red in a second and that’s all Eddie needs to know. He pulls the omega close and leads him to the kitchen, “Stevie, we gotta work on this!”

Instead of his original plan of cuddling up to Steve and Eleanor in bed, he pulls out all the stuff to make grilled cheese. He hears the omega start to hum, turning he sees Steve in the chair with his shirt pushed up enough to guide Eleanor to his chest and her immediately latching on to drink.

He manages to not burn the shit out of the two sandwiches, placing one in front of Steve and dumping a bag of chips on both their plates. They eat in a comfortable silence, that’s only filled with Steve’s soft hum.

They hear the front door open and Steve pulls his shirt down and over Eleanor, only losing tension when he hears his mom, “Boys!”

They smile at her, and she placed a kiss on both their heads, “Stevie, you don’t have to keep ruining your shirts like this” she doesn’t bother waiting, just pulls the shirt back up and rubs a hand against Eleanor’s head. They continue to chat while she makes herself something to eat.

——————

Weeks go by and Eddie swears the kids he picked up are more nerdy than him and something entirely different. He’ll catch them talking about weird shit and immediately shut up when someone else passes them.

He unfortunately sees Nancy way too often, she being the kids’ ride more times than not. She attempted to talk to him all of once and he shot it down almost immediately with, “I’ll be honest, Wheeler. I don’t really care much for you, we can tolerate each other for your brother. But we don’t need to be friends, okay?”

She only nods and he doesn’t smell her frustration, just sees it on her face.

It’s three months into school and Eleanor’s going to be four months, when he and Steve decide to bring in their other friends into the know. It’s not just that, but also Steve’s getting restless with staying home.

He said once Eleanor is no longer nursing, he’d look for a job.

(“I just don’t feel like going back and forth, I know mom can watch her but-“

Eddie smiles and nods, looking down at Eleanor sleeping in his arms. “You don’t have to explain it to me, Stevie.” )

So, that brings them to today. They’re out at Gareth’s house, his parents out for the weekend and closest to their home. Steve has Eleanor in her car seat still, and Eddie has a backpack on his shoulder as he knocks on the door.

It’s Gareth that opens the door and smiles, “hey guys,” he spies the car seat, “come on, bet she doesn’t want to stay in there”

Once inside, Steve makes quick work at getting Eleanor out and into his arms. “The guys here already?”

Gareth just nods, “I told them that you were coming and that you both had something to tell them, I think they’ve been listening to the dumb rumors and think you really did mate with each other” he rolls his eyes, “but I mean,”

He points at Eleanor and then raises an eyebrow at Eddie’s arm pulling Steve closer, “this doesn’t help”

Steve rolls his eyes, “we can’t, my mom and Wayne told us that when we’re eighteen and both out of high school, then we can” he pouted and felt Eddie press a kiss to his temple, “let’s go, before Ellie gets fussy”

They follow Gareth, who laughed at the couple. It’s not a long walk and right before they get into the room, the rest of the guys are laughing and right as they’re spotted the laughter stops.

“Dude, am I high or is Steve holding a baby?” - Jeff

“If you’re high, then I’m high because holy fuck that’s a baby!” - Grant

Gareth rolls his eyes, Eddie and Steve are laughing. The others are still staring dumbfounded. Then, Eleanor makes it all too real and lets out a whine.

“Dumbasses, you aren’t high. That is a baby” Gareth finally says, then turns a raised eyebrow at the couple, “better start talking, lovebirds”

They roll their eyes, Steve rocking Eleanor gently before they head to the empty couch, “This is Eleanor” he says and stares at all of them, “She’s the reason I left Hawkins high early”

They nod, clearly listening and Grant points between them with a clear question of “your’s?” Without saying it.

Eddie nods, “She wasn’t planned- I went to Stevie’s house one day when he skipped and well, we spent his heat together”

“Is- is she why you’re together?” Jeff frowns at them, “or were you already together?”

They shake their heads, Eddie slipped his hand into Steve’s and brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to his hand. It makes their friends to roll their eyes and smile, “we were dancing around each other for a while. But we got together after we spent his heat together- before we knew about Eleanor”

“I felt like shit for a month, my mom made me take a test.” Steve took over, squeezing Eddie’s hand, “had a doctor really confirm it, I told Eddie a few weeks later”

After that, Eleanor got wiggly and Steve finally let her down on a blanket and all the boys were on the floor with her, holding toys for her to play with or wiggling their fingers for her to grab. Steve laughed and Eddie was smiling, it worked out and they’re so glad their friends are loyal and happy for them.

Eleanor already has all of them wrapped around her finger.

——— A Week Later ———

Eddie groaned as he dropped at their lunch table, he was exhausted. Eleanor being fussier than normal for the last two days. Steve is just as exhausted, if not more. The only one not exhausted was Eleanor somehow.

“Dude. What’s wrong with you?”

Eddie groaned again before shifting to look at who spoke, finding the little freshmen he picked up. “I’m tired”

Dustin raises his eyebrow, dropping next to him and he hopes the kid really doesn’t poke him. He’s saved a little by Grant, “You good Eddie?”

He shrugged, “just tired, think we can move Friday’s session? I think she’s sick”

The freshmen look confused, while Grant nods, “I hope it’s not from any of us, I swear we only just met her and I’m sure one of us would die for her”

Eddie grins, “she’s like that”

Before the freshmen can ask who they’re talking about, Gareth sits next to him with a smile, “who’s like what? What are we talking about?”

“Gotta move the session this week, Ellie’s sick”

That’s said right as Jeff sits down with the other freshman, “don’t tell me it was us!”

Eddie shrugs, “we’re not sure- Janet thinks we’re overreacting.” He lays his head back on the table pillowed on his arms, “wake me before the bell”

In the back of his head he knows the freshmen are confused and he might’ve spilled too much.

~

We’re gonna stop there for now, even though I’m using the read more option again I still don’t want to make the parts too long, ya know? Anyway, again this is more slice of life, no plot. I mean I still add it in a litttttle but it’s nearly nothing. Next time we do a quick pov change (it’ll be Gareth’s!) and it’ll take place directly after this (with a day skip too)

If you have any ideas for this, you’re welcome to share them!! I can add it in or write more!! (This is in general btw, you can always send me prompts!!)

Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings @tartarusfairy @mx-jinxous @zombiethingy @lunaticmarunatic @carlyv @thelittleclare @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @bookworm0690 @forest-fogg @flustratedcas @p0lybl4nkk @tiny-enthusiast @a-gae-af-racoon @blackpanzy

(If you wanna be added to this and/or the permanent one, let me know)

#steddie #steddie fic #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #a/b/o fic #stranger things fic #nburkhardt writes #steve x eddie #steddie au #we’re not gonna get into everyone else’s secondary gender btw #but if anyone has any ideas I’m willing to listen! 🤣