#maybe im being all soft about it but to be completely honest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mayaree-darling · 6 months

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Hi i've been binging some of your fics recently and im in love! I saw that you had requests open so I was wondering if you could do scaramouche x fem reader but where reader dresses in jojifuku or other known as cutecore and scaramouche dresses in a baggy 'cool' way and reader gets made fun of for dressing differently?

of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes // scaramouche (modern au)

pairing: Scaramouche x Cutecore!Reader

synopsis: look, you may be a cute ball of pastels that can test scaramouche's patience, but you're HIS cute pastel lover. but if anyone messes with you, it's okay - his hands were made to be thrown.

from aree: for @amia-69: thanks for requesting and i hope this was satisfactory. i had too much fun with this so i hope you don't mind if it's a tad long with more scenes than you requested. i also made this a bit more feel-good by being a little silly but it’s still mostly serious, i hope you don't mind!

content: slight stalking and bullying scenario (be warned if triggering); very annoyed Scara means swearing; i'm in silly writer mode rn so this is a mix of crack and serious writing; slightly unhinged reader but hey so is scaramouche; praying this ain't OOC; fully accepted this is cringe; fem reader

fic length: 4k~ (unedited)

Scaramouche isn't dumb. He can tell anyone who sees him is asking it in their head.

How the fuck did you two end up together?

There was nothing soft looking about him besides the hair he inherited from his mother. He was his mother but with sharper lines, edges, and words. His eyes were almost a permanent glare if he didn't look bored or annoyed at everyone and everything. He always seemed to wear dark clothing, accompanied by the right amount of chains or belts here and there to complete the look, but they suited him nicely. If anything, he wore them best than most. If he wore anything less than clothes that didn't hang off his body he looked uncomfortable. Didn't mean he didn't hear enough older people talking about his choice of clothes though.

So when he first stood next to you on the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery store, he realized how you two stood at different ends of the fashion spectrum. He was there with his mother for their weekly food restock and ended up getting left behind when he went to check something on his phone (typical. How may times had this happened?) When he blinked, gone was his mom, and there beside him stood you, looking at a bunch of melons.

"This shit's overpriced, the hell." you grumble it under your breath, but Scaramouche heard it loud and clear. The snort he lets out isn't unnoticed by you and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. You look at him up and down before your eyes land back to his, and he frowns.

Goddamn it, here we go. He's heard his mom talk his ear off about the clothes this morning and he wasn't gonna hear it from anyone else. He opens his mouth, ready to cuss you to next Tuesday, but you beat him to it.

"I like the eyeliner," Scaramouche stares at you incredulously, and almost as a final nail into the coffin that he heard you right, you nod in approval. You tilt your head to the side. "I gotta say though. I think eyeshadow would look a lot better. Maybe... red? Just a bit at the corners. It would look a lot nice with your eye color and would make them pop considering you wear a lot of dark shades."

Scaramouche gapes at you. He's used to getting cussed out or getting the occasional talking to about his choices in life, but fashion advice was the last thing he expected to get from some stranger in the fruits aisle.

"Thanks..." he eventually lets out. He finally takes a moment to look you up and down and wonders how the hell did he not notice you sooner when you stood out from everything like a sore thumb.

Scaramouche didn't know there were so many shades of pink in the world. Or maybe he never noticed since he never wore clothes like that, and if he was honest, he spent time with people who didn't wear that color at all. Seeing it now was like a jumpscare, just a lot softer considering it's not like you posed any actual threat but slightly still as surprising considering people randomly approaching him first was so rare. If you weren't wearing a shade of pink, you were wearing some pastel shade of another color. Pastel blue, pastel purple, white lace here and there. The skirt you wore was so frilly you looked like you were walking around with a pink cloud. You looked... soft. That was the best summary Scaramouche could put together in the amount of time he gave you a once over.

You looked like everything he was not.

"I like... the frills," he inwardly cringed the moment he said it, but he ended up just frowning at you. It was your damn fault for putting him in this position in the first place so why the hell was he the one suffering. It's not his fault he wasn't good at giving other people compliments.

You laugh, and Scaramouche wasn't sure whether he should be glad you didn't take it to heart or be offended that he actually tried his best to give you a compliment only to be shot down. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself."

Scaramouche just frowned deeper. Now it feels like you're saying he can't give out a compliment at all. He looks you up and down again and just says what comes to his head on the spot. "You look like the cotton candy sold at the fair across the street. Actually, I think you're a lot more pink than that stuff, but still lighter? Can't tell accurately with how many shades you got going on."

He must've said something good enough for you because you're grinning at him the next second. "That's one of the nicer ones people have said to me."

Scaramouche looks at you in disbelief. "How is that even remotely nice?"

"Well, for one, I know you mean that sincerely. Second, I'll have you know I worked hard to get pretty vibrant pinks that weren't too hard on the eyes, so thanks for confirming that!"

"You made that?" You nod, and Scaramouche nods back slowly in approval, actually impressed. "Not bad."

Your eyes land on his watch and you jolt, looking at the time on your phone. You pick a random melon even when he sees you scowl at the price tag and put it into your basket. Nodding once more to him, you turn around and leave. But as he watches you round the corner, you're running back to his side once more before he can even turn away. The sudden look of alarm on your face, so different from the grin and laughter you had on earlier, immediately has him on edge.

"Please help me," you whisper, but there was no one else in the aisle besides a mother and her baby at the far end. He frowns and looks to the side.

"Do I look like I help people." it came out harsher than he intended, but didn't he give you more than he was already willing to give any other stranger? Now you were just taking advantage of him.

"I need a scary dog right now," you said it so casually and seriously he wasn't sure he heard you right. But your voice echoed correctly in his head and he actually takes a step away from you, face incredulous.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" he scoffs, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or it was a compliment from you in some weird way. "The pet shop is right next door. Go get a dog there."

"Please. You know what I mean." you look at him pleadingly and he looks away. No, no, he was not gonna break first. This wasn't his business to deal with. He's done enough for people for the day. Nope.

"Again, go look for that somewhere else. Don't you have a boyfriend to help with this kinda thing?"

You roll your eyes and Scaramouche has half a mind to smack you silly. "If I did, you think I'd be going up to strangers for help?"

"So this is a regular thing, huh?" he takes a step back and you take a step towards him.

"Of course not, you expect this kinda thing to happen sometimes. But I don't want to hide away just ‘cause some people couldn't stay away and mind their own damn business," you shuffle from one foot to another. You cast a hesitant look behind you. His eyes follow.

"What are you even-" he stops. In the corner where he last saw you turn, a hooded man hovered over the bread aisle. For a shelf that only had five pieces of loaves left he was taking his time picking, so that only meant one thing. Scaramouche watched as the man glanced over once in your direction before seemingly turning back to the bread with fake focus.

"I thought I was imagining it. But he’s giving me the evil eyes," your voice is a whisper again.

That's unpleasant. Scaramouche straightened his posture and looked at you directly. If it's a scary dog you needed then so be it.

"What are you waiting for, then?" his voice was loud, not enough to be too distracting, but enough to carry over to the asshole who decided to be a creep for the day. Scaramouche kept his eyes on you. "You need anything else? I got the car running. Let's go if you're ready."

You look up at him like he was a fucking hero and Scaramouche all but does his best to not look as pompous as he felt. He sees the guy step back a little from his view, most likely thinking twice about following you when you're suddenly with company. He all but stares the fucker down until he leaves his line of sight.

Scaramouche breathes a short sigh of relief and he sees you do the same. He wanted to leave it at that, but if the guy was planning to follow you around the mall, he'd probably stick around a bit more. So fucking annoying. Not you, though. Although you were a bit annoying, you've probably been through more today than he had. He takes your wrist lightly.

"Where to next? I have family waiting outside."

You smile, relaxed and familiar. He holds your wrist, but you guide him around the store for a few other things before heading to the counter. When you leave the shop, plastic bags in hand, he motions for you to head to the parking lot and you follow albeit hesitantly, only visibly relaxing when you see a woman standing by a car who looks eerily similar to your rescuer.

"Oh? You have a friend." Scaramouche bites back the retort that almost slips past his lips. What did she mean by that? Of course he had friends. He'd never introduce them to her and her to them but he preferred keeping those two sides of his life away from each other.

"She had a bit of a problem and needed some help," she looks at you once and back to him. She gives him a knowing look but Scaramouche could swear on his grave that what she was thinking was vastly different from what was really going on.

"I see. Will your friend be joining us for dinner?" she looks at you with a soft smile and you return it. Scaramouche has half a mind to facepalm himself, he thanks what shred of patience he has left that he doesn't because you give him a glance.

"Thank you for the offer, but I should really be heading home," you turn to him fully and take the plastic bags from him. "Thanks for... helping me."

He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, you give him a knowing nod before quickly walking away. He watches you walk a few paces before he hears his mom clear her throat. He looks to her, already scowling.

"Don't tell me you're just gonna let her go like that?"

"What do you want me to do?"

Ei sighs. "At least make sure she gets a ride? If you walked her all the way over here, I can guess you wanted to give her a ride home. But that's out of the question now."

"Why are you so invested in this anyway? I just met her today."

"Oh, really? I thought you already knew each other." Ei hums as she rummages her purse for the keys. "You look like a pair. Not quite sure what kind, but definitely a pair of something. I think she’s rather cute."

He curses silently before jogging to catch up to you. He finds you standing by the bus stop. When you turn to him, you smile.

"Thanks for helping me again."

"You know I was planning on dropping you off at your place, right? Thought that was kinda clear with what I said at the grocery."

"Nah. I'd bothered you enough. Don't wanna bother your sister either." you grin at him, shuffling from foot to foot again, now with a pep in your step.

"First off, that was my mom, not my sister." you repeat the word 'mom' silently before looking at him with barely suppressed admiration, and Scaramouche barely holds himself back from groaning. "Second, it's fine. You're not scared that guy's gonna follow you home?"

"I'll be in a bus full of people. If he tries anything I'll scream my head off." you laugh. Scaramouche can hear a shred of doubt in your voice, but he doesn't say anything else. There's a pause of silence before you look at him from the corner of your eye and hum. "Y'know. I don't know how to properly thank you."

He waves you off. "Forget about it."

"How about I treat you?" you turn to him fully, like he just didn't brush you off. "I know a cafe by the train station that makes really good matcha lattes."

"What makes you think I even like matcha?" he sighs, but he thinks about it for a second. And then another second. Scaramouche blinks before he turns to you with a deadpan face. "You're just trying to take advantage of my scary dog privilege or whatever you call it."

"Maybe? Who knows?"you grin mischievously. "I'm serious about treating you to a meal, though. I owe you one. If you want you can just take the meal and forget about ever seeing me again."

Scaramouche sighs. Surely, it wouldn't hurt...?

"Alright then. When's our date?" You blink at him in surprise before laughing.

When people ask him how you two got together, he says you treated him to matcha for saving your life and you just hit it off. When they ask you to confirm, you excitedly show a picture of the two of you in the cafe of your first date. Should anyone try to mention the foam of milk from the matcha latte gathered around the top of his lips or the cat ears you had graciously edited onto the top of his head, Scaramouche is quick to silence them with a murderous look, almost the very same one he has on in the picture.

Some might think why doesn’t he just ask you to stop showing the photo to people? It’s enough for you to confirm that you got together over drinks, end of story. But as he watches and listens to you recount how you met again, the smile on your lips and the laughter that slips past and the grin as you show all the pictures - he can’t imagine saying no.

Why would he make you stop when you’re so happy?

That’s what he thinks now, as he sees the frown on your face.

He thought people already understood. He let you tell the story over and over even though it got on his nerves time and time again because it made you happy, yes, but also so people saw who they were messing with if they ever even thought of messing with you. This city was a small one - if people didn’t know him from his mother, they surely have heard of him and his friends. This city was the kind where word travelled fast if you were even in any social circle. If not for that, they would have surely seen him walking around with you with all the places you wanted to see.

He underestimated how dumb people could be.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes before frowning. He pocketed his phone and all but jogged to the park. From a distance, he could see two guys in front of the bench he was sure was where you were supposed to meet. It was the bench he and you stopped at to exchange numbers, so it became a place that meant a lot to you. When he was close, the group of guys looked at his direction, snickering, before heading to the next bench over. Finally, he has a perfect view of you, your head down, holding on to your drink and phone like a lifeline. His drink almost lay forgotten beside you.

He quickly grabbed the drink from your side and sat beside you. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of guys stealing glances at the both of you, not even trying to hide their laughter and sneers. He’s gripping his drink almost as hard as you were.

“You’re here,” you smile at him, but as quickly as it’s on your face it drops back to a wobbly frown and you look away. “Sorry if I made you hurry, I-”

“What happened? Did they do anything to you?” his voice comes out in a rush but it’s soft, as comforting as he can muster with the situation at hand. He can feel his blood boiling, his senses on high alert.

“No, no, they were just being mean and annoying and I-” you shakily pocket your phone and hold on to his hand. He can feel you shaking and he grit his teeth.

“What did they do? What the fuck did they say?” he was gripping onto the cup so tight he would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t broken yet if he wasn’t so focused on you.

“Nothing important.” he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt, but to make sure you know that he’s here now. You didn’t need to hide anything from him. You just need to tell him. You look up at him and purse your lips. “They just said-”

He hears laughter and immediately whips his head towards the two guys, feeling absolutely feral. The closest one sitting on the edge of the bench flinches for a second, before he meets his glare with a sneer.

“I was wondering what kind of parents would leave their little princess walking around alone like that,” the guy smirks and Scaramouche can feel you flinch under his touch. “But another kid just showed up to pick them up. Where are your parents, kiddies?”

The two guys laugh and Scaramouche can feel his teeth crack with how hard he was biting down. He stands up but you hold on to his hand.

“Just let it go. Let’s just get out of here.” you mumble to him, but the guys heard perfectly.

“Let’s just get out of here~” the other guy copies your voice, all high pitched and mocking and everything that Scaramouche knew you were very much not. “She dresses like a little princess and sounds like one. Aren’t you too old for that?”

They howl with laughter and slowly, Scaramouche feels you let go of him. He looks to you, concerned, but you meet his eyes, your face blank but he knows that look.

Go for it.

With quick strides he’s right beside their bench. They stop for a moment to look at him.

He looks at the matcha latte in his hand and sighs.

What a waste of a drink. You got it for him, too.

“What are you- ARGH!” Scaramouche shakes the cup empty of all it’s content, making sure that each of the guys’ heads had at least a bit of the matcha drink. But Scaramouche was sure he got them both - it was a large drink, after all.

“Pick on someone your own size, you lil’-” the man closest to him goes to stand, but just as he does, Scaramouche raises his own leg and drives a kick right on his knees.

*CRACK*

The man screams in pain, forced to his knees and tending to his newly acquired wound. The other guy stands to try and help, but his form quickly falters as Scaramouche takes one step towards him, eyes blazing. The man doesn’t move, too frightened, as Scaramouche leans down to the man on the ground.

“There you go. Now we’re the same height.”

Scaramouche feels a pull on the back of his shirt and he’s ready to throw his arm back to punch when he sees you. He lets you pull him and you make a break for it as he hears the man crying in pain behind him.

Trees turn to buildings around you both as you leave the park and head to the city center, stopping only when you’re sure the coast is clear. You both take in large breaths of air after running for so long, but even the silence does nothing to make him realize the gravity of what just happened. That’s not the case for you, though.

“Oh, God, I didn’t think you’d do that. The drink, yeah, but...” you say between breaths. You take a shaky laugh and rub the back of your neck. “Was the kick really necessary, though?”

Was that necessary? Scaramouche knew the answer for himself. He walks closer to you.

Why would he let anyone destroy whatever you two had going on? You came as a pair.

"Scara, what are you-" he stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. There's a pause before he lifts his hand and flicks your forehead.

"Talk smack, get whacked."

"I didn't even say anything! And why are you hitting me?!"

There’s a pause as he runs his teeth over his lower lip.

“Hey… you.”

“Wow, I thought by now you knew my name,” you sneer at him. “You telling me you still don’t know it?”

He inhales before he says your name softly. You gape at him, suddenly aware of how serious he’s gotten. “You’re happy with… yourself, right…?”

“Of course I am. That’s not even worth asking about,” there’s a doubtful look on your face, but not because of your answer. Your apprehension stems from where this conversation was going.

“Keep being happy, then.” Scaramouche rubs the knuckles of your hand with his thumb before pressing a kiss to your palm. He smirks at you. “If anyone else says otherwise, a drink over their head and broken kneecaps are the least of their concerns.”

“Now, come on,” he doesn’t let go of your hand and you make no mention of it. “We still gotta stop by Nahida’s, right?”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

❀BONUS❀

“Your mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out what you did.”

“Nah. She’d be fine with it.” Scaramouche scoffs.

“Find out what?” Ei appears by the kitchen doorway and looks at you both expectantly. You turn to Scaramouche, eyes wide with fear, but he doesn’t flinch or even stop chopping the melon.

“I poured a drink over some guy who said Matcha was acting too much like a kid,” Scaramouche answers easily, passing you a melon slice. “Also might have broken their knee, but we didn’t get to see.”

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Ei-”

“That’s it?” Ei leans on the kitchen counter and to your surprise, looks at Scaramouche with disappointment. “You should’ve broken a bone or two more.”

You blink as they continue talking about how best to have handled the situation; all their solutions involved hurting someone.

Well, you guess Scaramouche must have had to got it from someone in the family.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact modern au #scaramouche modern au #genshin impact reader insert #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff

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whorbidmore · 2 months

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okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil #resident evil leon #leon kennedy headcanons #babyfangs.txt #fangsfic #idk man im literally talking out my ass on all this 💀

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inspector-m3 · 2 months

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Haikyuu sleeping headcannons

I've only done a few but let me know if you want me to do any other characters. Whether it be from haikyuu or from somewhere else.

Asahi

I feel like this guy would be warm. Not like the melting you from the outside inwards but like a campfire or a fireplace. He wouldn't move if you were with him, he wouldn't dare. He'd hold you tightly but he'd be so careful. Definitely panicked the first time you guys cuddled or fell asleep together. But once he got used to it he turned into a big cuddle bear.

Daichi

To me he seems like he'd sleep like a rock. After such a tiring day with the team he'd just flop onto the bed next to you and not move, like seriously you've probably had to poke him to check he was still alive.

He'd have and arm around you or he'd be leaning on you, either way once this man is asleep it's gonna be a pain to get out. why would you want to anyways?

Hinata

We all know that he's a ray of sunshine in both optimism and energy. cuddling/sleeping with him can go one of two ways

Since he's hyperactive this could carry on into his sleep. He's definitely smacked you a few times thinking you were a volleyball in his dream. Maybe even stolen the blanket a few times. He obviously apologies if you tell him in the morning

OR. He could be all tuckered out, kinda like a sugar crash but instead of a grumpy child you get a droopy hinata (almost the same thing) coming towards you with open arms, dragging you to bed or just leaning on you right then and there if he's really exhausted. He'd definitely use you as a giant pillow and just bury his face anywhere he can. neck? no problem. chest, whether it be flat or with melons? sure he can.

Kageyama

He may not seem it with his resting bitch face but he's definitely a cuddler. He'd definitely be more like daichi, calm and barely moving, unless it was to make you mire comfortable, but let's be honest he probably dreams about volleyball just like hinata and once again...you have been mistaken for a volleyball. Prepare for a bruise.

Im leaning towards him being a big spoon but maybe if he had a bad game or practice he'd want to be comforted, but either way his arms will be around you.

Nishinoya

This man is definitely a blanket theif. Just like hinata, he's a ball of energy and moves SO much while sleeping, not only does his arms flail about but theres a few kung fu moves going on there with his legs. You've definitely woken up with bruises and a leg across your chest while he sleeps like an angel.

If there is a rare occasion where he's not moving he's clinging onto you like a koala, legs around your waist or legs, arms around your torso and head on either your stomach or chest.

Tsukishima

This salty little shit probably isn't very keen on cuddles, but just for you. He'd have an arm around you loosely, maybe even pulling you closer while he's asleep. I feel like he'd be pretty cold (not just in attitude) so he'd be a great icepack for the summer but during winter you'll have to cocoon yourself in a blanket before cuddling up to him. Once you're asleep he's probably secretly affectionate, a few soft head pats while you're completely off in dream land.

#tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader #x male reader #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #nishinoya yuu #asahi x reader #x reader #x gn reader #x fem!reader #sawamura daichi #headcanon #cuddles #fluff

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itonashi · 11 months

Note

Hi I saw your requests were open

Would it be okay to ask for a Nozel from black clover fic where Nozel who has been very busy for months and neglecting his wife s/o and ends up having a huge argument with s/o when she confronts him about it and they both give eachother the silent treatment but later finds her collapsed because she got super sick from the overstress and not taking care of herself cuz she thought nozel didn't love her anymore and would divorce her or she thought maybe he fell out of love with her and found someone better

I just love nozel angst to fluffs

ONLY LOOK AT ME.

pairing: nozel silva x wife!reader

warning: neglect, sick, fluff, angst

note: ill be honest with you, i completely forgot what the magical team are called like i completely forgot the lore of black clover... sorry for the late. alot of things have been going on tbh.

2 years of marriage with nozel silva.

in the beginning of your marriage, nozel treated you with care even though he was the captain of a magic knight group. you knew the responsibilities those captains hold.

you knew it all to well. nozel became too busy to the point that you don't even see a strand of his hair at home. whenever nozel became too busy, you didn't know if you want to confront him about it or just let it go — but he neglect you too much.

whenever you tried to ask him to eat dinner with you, it was always the same response — "i have mission" or "i still have a lot more paperwork" with that cold tone of his. you know nozel is trying his best but won't he look at you once when saying that? at least try to make sure you knew you were still loved by him.

it has been more than 3 weeks, you couldn't handle it anymore so this time you tried to be brave and confront him about it.

"nozel, do you have time right now?" you ask him with that soft tone of yours. nozel glanced at you "i do, what is it?" for the first time in weeks he finally face you and look at you in the eyes.

you breath in and out "nozel, don't you think you're neglecting me too much? i know that you have your duties as a captain but can't you atleast.. please, if you actually have the time to atleast tend to your husband duties? is this asking too much for you?" you were shaking because this is the first time you confront nozel about anything.

you hoped that his answer wouldn't hurt like a stab on the heart.

"i have been neglecting you? [name], i have bigger duties to do. i cannot just linger around. clover kingdom is the magic knight's responsibility and im a captain." he said with his famous cold tone of his. he sighed loudly and you can't help but grip your first.

"i know. i know that you have your duties but please atleast try to make it like you still loved me!" you exclaimed while you were on the verge of tears. you look down on the floor and nozel sigh yet another time.

"[name], stop being overdramatic. i will try to make time for you." he tried to reach out for you but you slap his hand away. "you better promise that then. don't make any empty promise..." you glance at him, his face was shocked with how you push him away.

"ah, nozel! im sorry. i didn't me-"

"maybe it was a mistake for me to have this talk with you."

after that argument you had a few days ago, you gave silent treatment to each other. you didn't greet him home neither did he come looking for you. ever since that day you found comfort in isolating yourself in the bedroom that's always occupied by two people but now the other side of the bed felt cold.

it ruins your mental health though, without the company of your lover, you felt like your world is falling apart. the maids tried to make you eat the foods but you didn't. you kept rejecting them.

just like how nozel was, you started to be diligent in your duties on taking care of the house but you overworked yourself to the point whenever you stand up from your seat, you get a major headache.

you started to not going out of the house to have fresh airs and just locked yourself in. the staffs were worried about you. they whispered to eachother what will happen to you and nozel's marriage. will it break?

you sit on the edge of your bed while gripping your head "it hurts..." you mumbled to yourself. this time, you couldn't handle the stress and the headaches. you felt dizzy and nausea. soon enough, you fainted in your room.

hours later, nozel finally came back from his mission and wanted too relax in his room for abit when he suddenly saw the state you're in after he entered the room. he ran over to you and carried you to the bed, he called the maids to help him with you.

"[name], [name], what happened to you? please wake up!" he panicked seeing you in that state. your skin was pale and your breathing was also low. it put nozel into being an overthinker.

he questioned the staffs on the reason why you fainted. the staffs that was around him had a panicked look. they knew the reason why so one of them spoke up "[name]-sama has been overworking herself. s-she also hadn't been eating well. we tried to let her rest and also tried to make her eat but she refused too... also! we don't want to put any blame but we think that it's because of you, nozel-sama. maybe it's because of the big argument you two had few days ago..." the staff stammered, the staff looked around the room instead of meeting nozel's eyes while saying that. the other staffs agreed with what they said.

nozel had a shocked face after he heard the reason, he looked back towards your sleeping figure. "it's... because of me?" nozel thought, he bit the inside of his cheeks. he remembered the argument all too well. so because of that, you overworked yourself..?

nozel cleared his throat and ordered the staffs to get out of the room, the staffs hurried out of the room not wanting to witness nozel's wrath. well they assumed that nozel is gonna be mad at them.

the room is finally quiet with only you two's own breathing. nozel sit beside you on the bed and looked at your face. he felt guilty and regretted what he said. he knew the damage can't be undone.

but this time, he will try and only look at her. even if his work keep piling up, his wife's happiness is his first priority. he will try to be the better version. he will try to have quality time with her.

he will try balancing work life and his private life.

"if you thought that i fell out of love. i didn't, instead i fell in love with you all over again. you can't hear me right now but forgive me. forgive my behavior. im yours forever."

#black clover x reader #black clover #nozel silva #nozel silva x reader #nozel x reader #itomlist!!✧#itoreqs!!✧#itoanonss?!✧

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hxltic · 2 months

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Omg omg I love your writing. May i please order a cup of Ghost, König, Roach (or really any other COD character) with an s/o who randomly decides to ask them what their bodycount is and then gets upset when it’s a lot ;( like their s/o asks them about their past hookups and they’re like 16 or something and their s/o gets all pouty and teary eyed cause they don’t like the thought of someone else touching them in an intimate manner. SORRY IF THIS IS TOO DETAILED OML

I really wanted to do one of the three you named but I’m gonna do Gaz cus he’s hot and young and the least traumatized out of all of them LMAO IM SORRY (this is so late but I have motivation again and I’m back!!)

Gaz connects the silver chain around his neck, watching his reflection copy in the mirror, then he shines a smile that hides the strawberry gum he’s chewing somewhere behind his teeth. Once he’s satisfied with a simple black tee that hugs him in all the right spots, he leaves the bathroom with a spritz of his expensive, vanilla scented cologne hanging in the air.

On his few days off duty, who better to spend it with than you?

He pours himself a single shot before you stroll out of your shared bedroom. Makeup done, heels high, and dress short— you were more than ready.

“Damn, you look good. You trying to kill me?” He rubs his jaw as he scans you.

Giggling, you twirl in your skin-tight dress, “Maybe.”

“Alright, let’s go before I do something I’ll regret.”

. .

You arrive with his arm slung around your waist as you pass the foyer and into the living room. Some of his high school friends await, new faces to you. They catch sight of you first, then him, and it instantly switches the mood when they holler out happily.

“Yo, Kyle!”

“Long time no see!”

A few hugs and handshakes later, you both take a seat and sink comfortably into the couch. His arm switches to rest over your shoulders protectively.

He inquires, “So, this is her right?”

“In the flesh,” he responds casually.

The man leans over from his spot and reaches his hand out, hoping you’ll take it. Your lips curl upwards politely when you do.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. He talks about you all the time, so when I saw you, I knew who you were immediately. I’m Tyler.”

“Does he now?” Your shoot a curious glance to him who’s watching the conversation unfold. “And what would he say?”

“All good things, all good things,” Kyle jests. His thumb caresses your shoulder. Tilting your head to lean into his neck, faint cologne seems to override everyone else’s in the room when his two-toned lips kiss your forehead.

“It’s good to see him finally settle down. Out of your ways, right man?”

Tyler mindlessly giggles as what he said runs over your head. Then, it takes a U-turn and comes back, dropping your expression to a blank stare at nothing in particular as the cogs turn in your brain.

Out of his ways. You repeat. What were his ways?

Unaware that he’d single-handedly ruined your night, Tyler continues talking to his friends. One of which was Kyle, someone trained to pay attention to those around him, so he notices your switch in demeanor but truthfully has no idea why.

To be completely honest, you didn’t know why either. He was a good man, one you trust with your life (literally), so why do you care about who he was? You didn’t know if this was riding a thin line of slut-shaming, but you were so curious that being lost in your train of thought negated the feeling of his hand resting on your bouncing knee.

“What’s the matter?” He tucks a strand of your hair back gingerly. “Let me fix it.”

Even if he didn’t know what it was, he always said those four words. “Let me fix it.” If it was things he couldn’t fix, he’d sure as hell try.

Your eyes dart to his soft ones. He gazes at you like you’re the only person in the room; the only girl in world. “It’s nothing.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it now, I’m askin’ again later. Would you prefer me do that?”

You consider his negotiation, running the scenario of later through your head, then nod quietly. He nods back but it’s evident he isn’t completely enjoying himself the rest of the night. How can he when you aren’t?

Half-assed responses and deep sighs fall from his lips, the irritation growing despite the previous longing to hear from his old friends. He began to grow overstimulated from that point on, but not wanting to ruin the mood, he kept his mouth shut.

. .

The second you slipped through the door, fast food in hand (from his efforts to lighten your mood), the tension transferred from the majorly silent car ride to your home. Your breaths were shallow as if the thoughts circulating overwhelmed you.

Nothing matters beforehand. Your relationship was still fresh, there wasn’t even enough time for him to have a “military girlfriend”. But could that mean you’re next? You trust him, just not your judgement.

“What’s wrong, beautiful? Ya barely ate.”

He closes the door behind you, treading carefully around your emotions as to not hurt you more. As much as you wanted to curl up in a ball, unfortunately, there’s nothing to fault him for in this situation, so you can’t do anything but talk about it. The guilt eats away at your love for him as you gather the words you call shameful.

“If you had to guess, how many people did you date before me?”

His eyes widen in surprise, then fade away as he searches his brain for memories.

The deliberation of the question should let you know the status of what he did. They could have been one night stands— and the thought makes you cringe— but nothing would evoke the most culpability than it being various, genuine relationships.

“Three,” he states. There was no extra talk, even though you’re sure he had pieced together why you were asking.

“How many different people have you been intimate with? Including me?”

“Uhh…”

Answering wasn’t the problem. It’s just that if it made you this upset and you hadn’t even known the answer yet, hearing the actual reply would absolutely crush you.

He chose against saying it, just releasing a deep sigh, which is basically the same thing. It told you all you needed to know.

“Hey, look,” he begins walking toward you and his logic is warred with his heart when you don’t step away, but just stand there sadly. There was nothing to be afraid of, and you weren’t scared of him anyway. “I know this feels cliché, but you’re the one I want. Ty wasn’t lyin’ when he said I’ve settled down.”

Both of his hands gently find yours as if he were attempting to telepathically transport his sincerity to you. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

And he shows it, most certainly— the kiss he sweetly places to your temple nothing but evidence— yet all you can think about were your previous thoughts. What if you’re next?

“So what’s the answer?” Your focus remains to the hardwood floor, attempting to look for invisible specs of dust to avoid the tears threatening to swell in your eyes.

It shocks him because he didn’t think you’d speak, concluding you were too upset. One of his hands removes yours and drags it over his face. “Fuck, baby— I don’t even have count.”

He was right, it did upset you more, but there wasn’t anything you could blame him for. And living in uncertainty within a relationship that he promises he’s dedicated to sounds like hell. He hasn’t done anything to prove you shouldn’t, so your best option, quite literally, is to trust him. “Okay.”

“Look at me, love.” He slowly raises your chin by a few fingers, only to feel a painful throb behind his ribs at the sight. “I was young, and stupid, and wanted the wrong things from the people around me. I joined the military because of it, and thank God I did. I found the right values of life.”

There was a wetness to your cheek that he wiped away with his thumb, but you wouldn’t be able to tell why it was there. Overwhelming affection or sadness?

“In fact, there isn’t anything I can thank more than the world for the time we met. Now, I can cherish you in a way I wouldn’t have been able to before.”

You listen closely to the words, just thinking of how okay you’ll be. He was a good man, and if you unintentionally painted him out to be anything otherwise, it would show. But until then, you two would be fine (assuming he wasn’t still a man-whore, of course).

©️ hxltic

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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year

Note

hey!! saw you reblogging some of your butch bea stuff & just wanted to tell you that it lowkey changed my life and that if you ever want to revisit that universe you’d have at least one very avid & enthusiastic reader. there’s no pressure though — im grateful it exists at all!!

[i am going to be completely honest, i have no idea what this little prompt fill is but i love butch bea sm, it's soft & basically plotless. feeling so normal about her this pride month lol. also some lilith pov for the culture.]

not that you like people, but if you had to pick a favorite, under deep duress, beatrice would be at the top of your list. not that you would ever, ever tell her that, but, unfortunately, you're also pretty certain she knows. and, to your utter horror, you find that you have a reluctant soft spot for ava — you try to contribute it to beatrice being your sister, and therefore ava is basically your sibling-in-law, because they're not married yet but you watched beatrice say goodbye and you watched her grieve and you watched her fall in love, disgustingly, every second of every day, when ava returned. and, sure, ava is steadfast and faithful and far too brave and saved the world, twice, but, like. his relentless optimism and terrible sense of humor is too much sometimes.

but, you remind yourself when you get his text — he's your family too. someone who should have never forgiven you, you remember, like acid leaking in your stomach, but ava has always been too generous. and so you answer with an eye-roll emoji but also I'll be there in ten.

it's not the first day that ava has asked for help, and you're sure it won't be the last, but these days don't happen all that often anymore. you understand, though: your wings ache and sit heavy some nights when you can't sleep, and even if you fly over mountain ranges or tropical fjords or the flat, gorgeous planes of the savannah, deserts and oceans, the world — this admittedly beautiful earth, better than all the heavens — isn't quite enough to hold your sorrow. or, maybe it holds it along with you, and you can't quite put it down.

so you diligently mask your scales with jillian's annoying but very useful tech, and you put on an outfit that nun-you would have deemed inappropriate and nun-beatrice would have blushed furiously at, and teleport from your favorite room, tucked away in the middle of nowhere on a tiny island off the coast of iceland to beatrice and ava's sunny, big house on the beach. it's cool today, though, the day covered in a marine layer that's lingered for months. beatrice looks surprised when you show up in their kitchen, where she's staring off into space while, apparently, very slowly unloading the dishwasher. ava says hello from the living room, where you assume they're on the couch with korra by their side.

'hello, lilith.'

you pop a fresh grape into your mouth from the bowl sitting there in lieu of greeting.

'those are for ava,' beatrice says, and her hands shake and you can tell from the set of her shoulders that ava was right, that the world stings in your palms and up your spine, and sometimes you just need someone to see you through it until it calms.

'he can share,' you say, eat another one and swipe the bowl with beatrice scowling after you as you walk into the living room. ava is, unexpectedly, watching some reality tv drivel — so what if you're caught up on all ten seasons of vanderpump rules, it reminds you of hell if anyone asks — but she smiles sincerely when you hand her the bowl, one you're pretty certain beatrice had sculpted and glazed with her own hands.

'i can share a few,' ava says, and you don't bother to stop yourself from scratching korra's head in greeting when ava nods. you can admit that korra is awesome; she has loyalty to ava but at least you can understand that one. she's wearing a hoodie you know is beatrice's favorite, so it's ava's favorite too, and a beanie; ava hadn't mentioned it, but you know on really bad days her body has trouble regulating its internal temperature too — and if the pile of blankets at the foot of the couch is anything to go by, you're guessing that's happening too.

'you've looked better.'

ava rolls her eyes and beatrice flicks you on the back of the head. 'so have you,' ava says, but you look hot and so you know by that lackluster insult she really is in a good deal of pain.

'ava's back is bad today,' beatrice says, as if that wasn't completely obvious from the way ava has a heating pad and special pillow and is propped up on the couch with korra attentively lying next to her, ready to get anything or alert if she needs to.

'lots of hand spasms,' ava says, 'which are the worst, who knew?'

the only reason you refrain from making a dirty joke is because you'd never want them to think you have ever, for one moment, thought about their sex life. 'well, i'm taking beatrice for a bit,' you say, which is just what ava asked for, 'so maybe some heavier duty pain meds and a nap? we can bring you a late lunch.'

you feel beatrice stiffen behind you. 'i need to be here today,' she says, clipped and anxious. 'what if ava —'

'what if i what, bea?' ava says, without any malice, but with a glint in her eye that even you know to be careful of. 'i just need to sleep today and watch some stupid tv. we can go through all my rehab exercises in the evening again, like we always do.'

beatrice's jaw is clenched, and she bites her bottom lip.

'bea,' ava says, and reaches for her hand, and, not for the first time at all, do you feel a little out of place. lonely, and sad, and aching: they are in love, however much it annoys you. there's a care there that you're fairly certain you will never have, and never be able to give.

'a few hours, beatrice,' you say. 'that's all.'

ava had texted that beatrice had been losing track of time and tasks all morning, which is a sign you'd all started to understand as a bad ptsd day, not infrequently leading to a panic attack or a flashback if she's left to her own devices. usually, they won't have bad days at the same time, some divine knowledge of something, but today the stars hadn't lined up.

but beatrice sighs and then nods: she knows herself, knows when her brain is misfiring or misaligned, when things aren't quite as real as they should be. ava's hands are in painful, involuntary fists and so it's up to you today, to hold beatrice's through it.

'great, now that that's settled,' you say, when she offers nothing else. you take her wrist and, just for fun, teleport her right into the middle of the ocean, until she's spluttering and yelling but then, blessedly, lets out a laugh. you teleport her right back to her shower and even ava is grinning from inside. 'get ready,' you tell her, throw a towel at her from the neat stack in their patio bin. 'see you in fifteen.'

'don't have too much fun catching up on vanderpump rules without me,' she says, color back in her cheeks and a clarity seeping into her eyes.

'i hate that show.'

'sure,' she says, dismissing you with a wave of her hand, and, fine, you do join ava on the couch, but it's only because he's high and divulges, eagerly, beatrice's latest cooking mishap. beatrice comes in from their bedroom a few minutes later, looking a little steadier still, in soft, tailored pants and an oversized t-shirt, tucked in precisely. she's put contacts in and has sunglasses slipped into the collar of her shirt, a thick, fancy watch on her wrist. ava, even in a lot of pain, looks like they might start drooling. 'great.' you fling a pair of pristine birkenstocks at beatrice, who catches them with a scowl, 'you look fine to be in public. let's go.'

'bye, baby,' ava says, frustratingly unfazed by you. beatrice smiles, gently, her eyes clear for the moment when all she has to focus on is ava, and kisses her forehead, gently cups her jaw in her hand. 'love you, have fun.'

'i love you too,' beatrice says.

'no fun,' you say, and ava's still laughing as you touch beatrice's elbow and teleport on your way.

'this is my sister, lilith,' beatrice introduces, and, like, whatever, your heart swells in your chest and you feel warm and kind. you sink into it — only for a moment.

'nice to meet you,' beatrice's barber says, offering her hand with a genuine, easy smile, not batting an eye that you and beatrice look absolutely nothing alike; you feel warm and kind again when you think about beatrice talking about you as her sister to people you've never met, that you matter to her enough to mention. 'i'm xavi.'

'xavi, cool.'

beatrice sits down in the chair, comfortable and present, even though her hands still shake, but it's clear that this is a space she's always been made to feel safe. somewhere she's always been made to feel seen, which you realized, over the past few years, she had never had, despite how much you had — and still do — still love her.

'same thing, bea?' xavi asks.

bea nods. 'you can take the skin fade up a little higher, i think. it just grows so fast.'

xavi nods. 'sounds good.'

and it's not like you don't spend a fair amount of your time with beatrice and ava, because they live somewhere beautiful and it brings you deep joy to annoy them, and, like, drag brunches and queer bars are admittedly very fun, but to see your sister just be is kind of moving. and maybe she realizes that too, that it's special you're here, that it's special you're allowed to be here, in this space that is very much hers, the quiet hum of the clippers in the background, while she chats with her barber about the latest ridiculous episodes of love island — which, yes, you have watched; yes, you do participate in the conversation after beatrice includes you immediately, because you're only so strong and it's always been a summer tradition of yours to watch nightly — and they laugh together. you laugh too, and then all of a sudden beatrice is crying, and xavi turns the clippers off carefully. beatrice snakes a hand out from under her cape and tries to wipe her eyes.

'i apologize,' she says, really trying to get it under control. 'i — sorry.'

'she's having a weird day,' you offer, and beatrice nods with a sniffle. you don't bother to explain further — that's beatrice's to tell, if she ever wants to — but it seems to calm beatrice a little bit.

'sorry,' she says again. 'i — i'm just happy to be here,' she says, adds a quiet, 'as i am,' and xavi just squeezes her shoulder.

'i'm happy about that too.'

beatrice lets out a big breath and steadies herself; you feel relieved too that you won't have to deal with a panic attack in the middle of a barber shop while beatrice's hair isn't nearly faded properly. 'i never cry.'

you roll your eyes. 'if by "never" you mean five to ten times a week...'

beatrice shoots you a glare through the mirror and you just grin, all teeth.

xavi laughs a little and turns the clippers back on. 'it's okay,' she says. 'you're secret's safe with me.'

admittedly, beatrice's hair does look great, a clean fade and a little messy pomade on top, but you've already complimented her on this haircut twice so you're certainly not doing that again. you walk with her along the street her barbershop is on, that she knows well and it hits you quietly that you know it well too. you don't have a home — you haven't had a home in a while — but this might come close.

years ago, before the war, before all of it, on a bad day the two of you would go at it for hours sparring, blood on your knuckles and along your teeth and once mother superion had been irate when you got such a good shot in beatrice's eye was swollen shut for days — but there is no war anymore. there are small battles, but beatrice hasn't fought since she got hurt; even though she's better now, with a sturdy rod down her femur and scars that don't seem to bother her much down her abdomen, you think, unofficially, that she's not ever going to fight again.

you don't have the same fate, you know, but for today you look beautiful in an easy bright blue shift dress and sunglasses, your hair dark and long, and beatrice's hands have stopped shaking.

'sushi?' you ask, a reach, maybe, but when she smiles you know you were right.

it makes you realize, too, when you sit down at a restaurant you've come to so many times with her — and ava, too — that you know the server, who greets you both by name and brings you shishito peppers and spicy edamame without you even having to order. beatrice relaxes in her chair after a second on the patio, lets out another deep breath.

'all right?'

she takes her sunglasses off and nods. 'thank you.'

you shake your head. 'you're my sister.'

you mean it: i have not forgotten who you are; i have not forgotten who i am. you mean it: i love you. even if the words get stuck in your chest, even if you can't quite say them — you mean it.

'plus,' you say, 'you're paying, and i'm ordering the best sake on the menu.'

she laughs, bright and easy, and shrugs. 'you know the catholic church and my horrible parents are footing the bill anyway. we should order whatever we want.'

you remember when you were nineteen and beatrice was brand new to the ocs, how much you felt frustrated by her, deeply: she was earnest, and so serious, and very hurt, but kind in a way you never could be. the pressure sat heavy on both of your shoulders, but she held it with grace. 'could you have imagined this life when we first met?'

she seems as surprised by your question as you are that you even asked it, but her smile is easy and she runs a hand along her buzzed hair with a laugh. 'i think i would have had a heart attack if anyone had told me even a sliver of what my life is now.'

you wait a beat but then you do laugh, because it's true. your server brings you your sake and some sashimi you'd ordered, along with some scallops that are your favorite. ava sends a text in the group chat the three of your have — which you refuse to really participate in, but fine — saying that she's doing fine, that she had to take a fever reducer but korra's been on top of anything she needed to get so ava hasn't had to try to get up, that the protein smoothie beatrice had made her had been fine and she's just going to try to sleep some more. it makes beatrice relax even more, palpably, and you understand, in some way.

'you've retired, haven't you?'

she calmly swallows her tuna and then puts down her chopsticks. 'fighting? yes.'

it's simple and it's big and it's quiet. you knew already.

'but i'll be around. you know i enjoy research, archival, collaborations with jillian. i'm not — this will always be part of my life.' it's unspoken too: you will always be part of my life. and you know she means it.

'good,' you say, and for the first time in longer than you can really remember it feels like you're able to offer a benediction.

her eyes are soft as the clouds burn off, finally, as the afternoon turns warm. 'i — i want to live a long life.'

you can't say anything, but you can nod. you want that too — for her, for all of you. 'plus,' you say, 'ava was even worse than normal when you got blown up.'

she rolls her eyes, as glad for the levity as you are. you drink more sake and order more sushi and laugh as you watch people walk by on the street and beatrice offers — delightfully and playfully kind of mean — commentary about some of them. she's been your person for a long time, you remember, her gentleness despite bullets and arrows and bombs, despite holy wars, despite knuckles — yours, or hers, or both — split open to the bone. beatrice holds her chopsticks easily, steadily, and the scars on the tops of her hands shine white in the sun, but they've faded. you can only see them if you know where to look.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #yknow i am always sososo normal abt found family but especially during pride #sisters!#prince & ollie here u go ur girl #butch bea 🥺🫡#who knows. not me. thank u for this kind ask tho anon :)

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koinotame · 1 month

Note

Late to the party but OMG BOOBA POST IS BACK IM FEEDING TONIGHT

What I wouldn't give to just have a bunch of sexy people that let me touch their tiddies 😔

- 🍎

i feel that... i'm gonna piggyback off your ask and elaborate a bit more on how the characters in the fic would react to being groped:

honestly ei's outfit feels like it's purely for utility to me with the fanservice being a bonus. in fact i feel like she wouldn't have much reaction to you suddenly groping her? she's maaaybe a little embarrassed, but mostly confused. unless you initiate anything more sexual she's just kind of like. ok. it's you so even if she doesn't really get what you're doing she enjoys the contact. if you mention you think her chest is nice and soft, she'll start initiating hugs where she presses your head against her chest more. she'd be very soft and warm i think, especially since you'd be getting direct skin contact <3

childe's completely useless tiddy harness..... anyway suffice to say he wouldn't mind you playing with his chest at all. whether he'll get turned on by your groping depends a bit, but for the most part he's perfectly fine with leaning down for you literally anywhere or sitting himself in front of you so you can lean against him and busy your hands. the soft contact feels nice (especially since it's something he gets very, very little of), and he's pleasing you so it's a win win. there's more obvious muscle on him compared to ei so there's plenty for you to grab lol. feel free to also slip your hand into his shirt via the little window on his stomach ;)

i feel like kaeya knows what he's doing with his tiddy window. and if it's you... well, go right ahead. he does get a little embarrassed if you do this in public too much though, so maybe save it for when it's just the two of you? he'll start off by teasing you, but the longer you keep going the more quiet he gets. also pretty touch starved, so if you compliment him and maybe play with his hair while you're at it he melts. after the first couple times you're pretty sure he's been using some sort of skin oil or something to keep his chest extra soft and smooth. his chest isn't super sensitive either so unless you combine the groping with something else sexual he's pretty unlikely to get turned on

zhongli... well, his chest is fine, but his better asset is his butt. he doesn't mind if you come up and cop a feel. not entirely sure how to feel about it (on one hand.... on the other you're paying attention to him and clearly like his body, so he's doing something right). to be honest i think he'd enjoy the fact that you're paying attention to him over the skinship or the actual feeling of the groping. you might notice he starts wearing tighter pants and/or shirts around you... and if you don't notice they get tighter. still would prefer if you did this in private though. the bonus of that is he'll let you go on for hours upon hours—as long as it takes for you to be satisfied

#asks #🍎 anon #not sfw

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seongminiz · 8 months

Text

call me what you like - park serim

minors dni ; soft dom!serim x sub fem!reader ; 2432 words

warnings : jealousy/possesiveness , reader is insecure , praise , pet names (princess , good girl , baby) , fingering , unprotected sex , breeding , marking , does serim having a driving license count as mischaracterization ? , he also has a massive cock amen . an attempt at proper grammar but only partially proof read so if u find typos or me being an idiot n writing small comments in between no u didnt

first long-ish work i post on here feeling kinda nervous . no fr this is nerve wrecking idk im not good at writing descriptive smut ffs :D but i loved writing it ngl also something kinda upsetting happened today so it ended up a little more angsty than i intended it to be bc what r my fics if not insane projecting lol. the title is a lovejoy song but it has nothing to do with the lyrics i just needed a cool title n lovejoy r kinda the only non kpop music i regularly listen to

you and serim have been in a relationship for a few months now, and while of course you have some small arguments here and there, there have never been any big issues between you two. you love him, he loves you, and neither of you would ever doubt that. that is, until you end up being serim's plus one at some kind of event: you've been following him around all evening bc u have almost no idea of whats going on.

now, you're not usually the jealous type, you're okay with serim speaking to women other than you ffs that's his job, but the way some of them at this event are clearly flirting with him sets your jealousy issues off bad. watching your insanely handsome boyfriend be - or at least act - completely clueless about how they're clearly putting the moves on him, especially with how good he looks dressed like that, white shirt underneath his suit jacket straining against his toned body, leaving little to the imagination.. it pisses you off, to be completely honest.

you can't stand it, you can't stand how so many women, most of them you find clearly prettier than you, are able to get his attention like that, completely ignoring you even if you're basically clinging to his arm.you feel inadequate, just a mere presence they barely acknowledge with a small smile before going back to talk to serim. your serim.

what you fail to notice, though, is that serim is well aware of the shift in your mood. he doesn't know exactly what it's about, but he was pretty quick to sense how upset you had become just in a few minutes, trying to talk to as many people and as quickly as possible so you two could get out of there and he could give you his undivided attention.

of course, you don't know, too focused on dwelling on the jealousy building up inside you. you barely notice when serim gently shakes you, trying to catch your attention 'are you okay princess?' you sigh 'yeah.' your short reply isn't of any reassurance to serim, his thumb lightly rubbing your hip 'wanna go home?' you shrug, trying to hide your (very obvious) upset expression 'if we can, yes. but if you still have to... do whatever you were doing, we don't have to-'

'okay, got it. i'll talk to this one last person, and then we can go home, alright?' you nod, his arm leaves its place around your waist and you once again grab onto it, following his steps. your heart drops when you realize that, unfortunately, said person he has to talk to is a woman. which wouldn't even be that bad on its own, you can stand it for a few minutes (you really can't, but maybe you can convince yourself..), but she also happens to be the most attractive, hottest woman you've seen through the entire evening. you tune out the entire conversation, trying not to stare at her because everytime you take in another detail you feel like crying.

when serim finally cuts the conversation off, you politely - albeit coldly - bid your goodbyes to the woman, walking with serim out of the room and towards the parking lot. when you get to the car, you don't even wait for serim to open the door for you - he's dead set on giving you the full princess treatment - climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut.

that's when serim realizes, this isn't just you feeling a bit under the weather, you're genuinely upset - and you weren't at the start of the evening, so he knows something that happened between then and now is the cause of your behavior. the fact you're giving him the silent treatment does irk him a little, but he knows that's how you act when something really bad happens, and he could never get mad at you for it.

despite his concern, serim still calmly gets into the car, turns it on and starts driving out of the parking lot and into the bright, artificially lit streets. glancing at you from time to time, he finds you looking out the car window, arms crossed over your chest, deep in thought. when you reach a particularly empty and straight part of the road, serim takes the chance to place his hand on your thigh, something you're both used to during your late night drives. what he doesn't expect, though, is for you to move your leg, wiggling out of his grasp (not that hard, since he wasn't putting that much strength in it in the first place).

serim raises an eyebrow, eyes still fixed on the road as his hand helplessly goes back to the wheel. his concentration on driving is what makes him miss the way you look back at him, concerned on whether you've gone too far or not. stopping at a red light, serim's eyes immediately find yours, desperate to get to the bottom of this 'what's wrong princess?' you shake your head, absent-mindedly reaching for his hand in search of any possible physical comfort. 'nothing, you're going to think it's stupid anyways,' you mumble. serim frowns, reaching to move a strand of hair behind your ear 'i would never. whatever it is, it's upsetting you, and I don't like seeing my baby like this.' his voice comes off more stern than he intended to, but his soft touch is there to remind you that he's not actually upset at you. he's just your concerned boyfriend.

serim moves his hand from the side of your head to your chin, tilting it so you have no choice but look at him 'so? what is it?' you pout. 'i'm jealous.' the look that crosses serim's face is a puzzled one 'what?' you shrug, averting his eyes 'you spent the entire night talking to other women, all better looking than me. i'm jealous,' you admit. serim is about to answer you, when the light turns green, the cold hue illuminating both of you. serim sighs, speeding up. 'we'll talk about it when we get home, yeah?' you nod, scared that you might have upset him. even if his voice didn't let that out, you can't help but wonder if he's disappointed in you.

serim parks in front of your apartment complex, a few seconds of you two sitting in the car in silence pass, until serim sighs, taking the keys and stepping out of the vehicle, making his way around it to open the door on your side too. god forbid he let you do it on your own again. you walk out, grabbing the hand he extended to you. everything is so silent, you again question if he's genuinely mad at you for how you acted. you knew you were being immature, giving him the silent treatment and all, you're just getting a taste of your own medicine, but you couldn't help it.

you were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't even realize you got to the elevator until the faint 'ding!' of it startles you. you step inside, never letting serim's hand go. 'you know i would never cheat on you,' serim breaks the silence, and your eyes widen in shock to the realization 'that's not what I was implying! i know you wouldn't! i just... those women were all so much prettier than me, and more mature and sophisticated, and hotter and... i'm just me. I felt so out of place, like i wasn't at your level. and it's totally not your fault! but i couldn't help but feel jealous, like I wouldn't even blame you if one day you decided i wasn't enough for you and left me for one of them. and i know you wouldn't but... it still hurts to think about it.' you start rambling, missing how serim tries to stop you a few times by calling your name.

when you finally look up at him, he has the softest smile plastered on his face and, before you can say anything else, he plants a kiss on your lips, his hands immediately finding their way to your hips. 'i would never chose anyone other than you. you're as perfect as you could be, i swear,' you can feel his breath against your lips as he talks, your heart beating furiously against your chest 'i don't care about any of them. you're all i need and you're more than enough, you're too perfect for me' he continues, only stopping to kiss you again. the elevator comes to a halt, and thats your cue to separate, but you know this isn't the end of it. serim's hand finds yours, as he lowers himself to speak into your ear 'i'll show you just how perfect i think you are, yeah?' he whispers, a shiver running through your body at the implication 'will you let me?' you nod furiously, your reaction making serim chuckle 'good girl' he says, kissing right below your ear before guiding you out the elevator.

the short way to your apartment is agonizingly slow, constantly interrupted by stealing kisses from each other and, when you finally manage to step inside, serim has you immediately pinned against the door, locking it behind you as he roughly kisses you. his hands are everywhere on you, your waist, your thighs as your dress slowly rides up to leave you more and more exposed with each movement.

'you don't even know how insane you've been driving me with this dress,' he groans, lifting you up with no effort and, as you wrap your legs around him, you feel his bulge pressing against you, a small moan leaving your mouth. 'serim... need you,' you whimper against his lips, a thin string of drool dripping from your lips onto his. serim smiles, capturing them in yet another kiss as he starts to carry you towards your shared bedroom.

he places you on the bed, your dress lifted all the way to your hips revealing your completely drenched panties. serim can barely contain himself, seeing you all spread out like that, for his eyes only, but he wants to make this all about you and your pleasure.

he starts to slowly undress himself, unbuttoning his shirt before slipping your dress off. your hands brush against his sides, tracing his defined body and tentatively going lower to rid him to his pants - no matter how many times you've seen him like this, it always leaves u in awe how a man this perfect could ever exist, and be your man at that. serim gently takes your hands in his, pins them over your head and places a soft kiss on your lips 'let me do all the work for once,' he says, hooking his fingers in your panties and sliding them off your legs.

before you know it, serim is three fingers deep inside you, opening you up for him bc no matter how many times you've taken him, you'll never get used to just how big his cock is. you've been incessantly whining for god knows how long, about how much you need his cock, you need him, and every time without fail serim replies that 'you already have me, princess, more than anyone in the world, you have all of me.' and proves his point by leaving yet another mark on your skin.

your thighs, your neck, your chest, every unmarked portion of your skin is soon bruised to the point anyone would assume he was the jealous one in the relationship. and maybe he is, just a little bit, recalling how revealing your dress - now discarded somewhere on the floor - was on you, so perfect on his princess but a little too perfect for any other men to look your way.

when serim removes his fingers from you, you're a mess, hair sticking to your forehead, breath heavy, tears running down your cheeks and ruining the makeup you worked so hard on for the event. but that's how serim likes you the most, when you're fucked out before he even gets to be inside of you, his pretty little mess, just for him.

and he tells you exactly that, as his cock finally sinks into you, groaning and rambling about how much he loves this sight, how he's so lucky to have you and how you're his and his only. the sweet praises partially distract you from the stretch, until he bottoms out and you both sigh in unison.

it's not long before serim starts thrusting into you, his pace picking up immediately but never getting quite as fast or rough as it usually would be. he wants to take it slow, savor the moment, his hand holding your hip while the other cradles the side of your face so your eyes don't stray away from him. it's hard to do so, when each thrust hits the perfect spot in you, as you fight the urge to let your eyes close.

'mine,' you moan against his lips, feeling him twitch inside of you 'all yours, princess. and you're mine too, can't stand it when everyone's eyes are on you, you're too pretty for this world.' despite the downright nasty predicament you're in, you can't help the way your heart fills with love at serim's words. you pull him in another kiss, your legs wrapping behind his back to push him deeper inside of you.

'then make me yours in any way possible,' you whisper. serim chuckles, slowing down his thrusts. it's not the first time he cums inside you, but before it was just a result of having unprotected sex. now it's a deliberate choice, to make you his in the most intimate way possible. 'yeah, princess? should i fill you up, mark you from the inside so everyone knows you're mine? would you like that?' you nod, squeezing around him as a particularly hard thrust hits a specific spot inside of you that has you letting out an high pitched moan.

serim's hand leaves your face, his rough fingers rubbing your clit and, before he can even tell you to, you're cumming, shaking as serim helps you ride out your orgasm and reaches his own, spilling inside of you as incoherent praises leave his mouth, telling you how good you've been for him and how much he loves you.

once you've both calmed down, serim presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you tight in his arms so that you can know you're really, uniquely his, and he's not going anywhere.

#🍰 seongminiz !#🧇 crvt !#first properly written work i post is abt serim n i feel that says a lot abt me idk #genuinely loved writing this i started giggling kicking my feet while proof reading #cravity hard hours #cravity smut #serim hard hours #serim smut #cravity x reader #serim x reader

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diwtara · 3 months

Text

The locals were throwing them a feast in thanks for saving the village. With music and booze and meat - what more could they ask for?

The chief even brought out a local speciality.

"This drink," he explained, "will compell you to go to your friends and tell them something honest." He went on to explain that though it might not be something you would normally say out loud, it very rarely led to hurt feeling on either side - it did of course happen ocasionally, but the drink was made specifically to celebrate and help strengthen bonds.

When offered the chance to try it, no one was surprised that Luffy took the opportunity. Their cook was next, having caught a wiff of it Sanji insisted he needed to learn the flavour profile. Franky was the third and final volunteer, claiming that honesty was SUPER.

The stawhats kept a close eye on their captain as he bounced around chatting with everyone in his vicinity, though it was hard to tell if the drink had taken effect yet, or if Luffy was simply being Luffy.

"Nami-swan!" Sanji called running eagerly up to the red head, with a bright smile on his face.

She greeted him in turn with a polite smile, allowing him to take one of her hands gently in his own

"Nami-swan, you are such a strong, amazing person and I am so glad that we met. I am so happy that we are friends!"

Namis eyes widdened as a blush spread across her cheeks. "Oh!" That wasnt what she had expected him to say at all. Now she found herself stumbling over how to respond.

"I see the elixer has begun to work, cook-san" Robin cut in with a soft smile.

"Robin-chwan!" He cheered taking her hand in his free one. "You are so brilliant and wonderful. Im always excited for you when we find ruins for you to study, or a poneglyph for you to read. I love seeing you happy!"

It was Robins turn to be left speachless. She knew the strawhats were okay with humouring her passion, but it still caught her off guard that they were people, that there could be people, who genuinely cared about her happiness.

Movement off to the side caught Sanjis attention and he took off as quickly as he had appeared.

"Usopp!" He cried, wrapping the man in a hug.

"Oof. Okay okay, you can let go-"

"I know how brave you are Usopp! I see it every time you do what you need to despite being scared! But i will still always do my best to protect you whenever I can!"

Usopps eyes watered for a moment before he threw his arms around the chef. "Sanji!!"

Zoro doesnt know what draws the blondes attention his way, hell maybe its just another special property of the drink, makes you zero in on the people you know one by one. He sort of wishes he hadnt been noticed though.

"Zoro!" He tried not to squirm or duck away as he was approached.

He didnt need the cook rushing over to - what? Tell Zoro that theyre friends? He knows theyre friends, its not something either of them should have to say out loud. Thats not what they do.

Or worse, the curly-browed idiot could decided to say something like 'you're strong', or 'you're a good fighter', or 'I respect you'.

That would just be uncomfortable for both of them. And the cook would probably regret it in the morning.

And just how would Zoro be able to respond to that? Zoro sure as hell cant respond in kind to that sort of comment. Hes not the one who drank a truth potion after all.

He could pick a fight of course, make fun of the blonde for coming over and smiling and talking with complete sincerety. Laugh at him for willingly taking the drink and spilling out his feelings everywhere.

"Oi! Zoro!" The cook was grinning at him in a way he never did, or at least he was until he tripped on something on the path and a look of concentration replaced the smile as the man focused on staying upright while stumbling the last few feet forward. This had Zoro fighting off a smile of his own. The staggering blonde was a stupid, and maybe slightly endearing, sight.

Sanji caught himself with one hand planted on Zoros chest, staring down at it in complete fascination.

"I think about kissing you all the time."

What.

Zoros breath caught.

"I would really like to suck your cock." Sanji continued, licking his lips, "Maybe tie you up first if you'd let me."

What?!

The blondes eyes slowly traced up from his hand on Zoros chest to meet his eyes. When he did, whatever he saw there, he seemed to realize exactly what he had just said.

Zoro watched as his mouth opened and closed several times, a dark blush racing across the mans face.

Finally Sanji snatched his hand away and turned on his heel before running back the way he came. Zoro almost chased after until he saw the blondes path change so he could scoop Chopper up in his arms.

The bright smile was back on his face, the blush fading. Whatever he was saying to Chopper had the reindeer wiggling and delightedly calling him a bastard.

Zoro watched the group - Franky was now openly sobbing while Nami pat his shoulder awkardly, Luffy was fully wrapped around Usopp - while he tried to catch up with what just happened.

How the hell was he supposed to respond to that?!

He sighed and decided he could confront the cook tomorrow. (Maybe.)

For now he needed a drink.

#zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro #sanji #truth potion #i have a fever please shoot me im sorry #sanji has a dirty mind

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nyashykyunnie · 1 year

Note

HELLO YES IM HERE TO FUEL SOME JINWOO BRAINROT!

Jinwoo is the type of partner to always hold his s/o’s hand and focus all his attention to them when they talk. It would be nerve wreaking to have his full attention but he looks so soft and gentle with them that there’s no doubt he wouldn’t ever hurt them and that he loves them

a/n: OIDUFWHJAEDASN AAAAAAA MY BRAINCELLS DIED THE MOMENT I IMAGINED THIS AAAAA!!! JINWOO HOLDING HANDSS ANSJNSAN HNNGHH!!! (Also this hc is with Jinwoo after he regressed)

Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Reader: Holding Hands

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

﹢　˖ 　✦ ¸ .　﹢　 ° 　¸. ° ˖ ･ ·̩　　｡　☆. 　﹢　˖ 　✦ ¸ .

He definitely holds your hand with the one that isn't gloved.

Jinwoo loves the feel of your hand against his large and strong ones, he is mindful not to squeeze too much since he doesn't want to break your hand.

He'll squeeze it, just enough for you to know that he is holding you and.

Jinwoo mostly closes his eyes as he listens to you ramble about your day or your hyperfixations.

You could talk about anything to him really.

Whether its some drama you heard, the new show you love, the animals that you absolutely adore, a really good boo you read— Jinwoo will listen to you attentively.

You may be distracted babbling on and on, but Jinwoo's eyes are focused solely on you.

If you're hyperfocused on some...Let's say scientific stuff.

He'll look up some of it and maybe study it just so he can understand you better.

Do you like the stars? He'll memorize as many constellations as he can (Let's be honest he memorized all of it)

The ocean? He'll try his best to know as many scientific names of the sea creatures you like.

The plants? He'll secretly go out at night to find the plants you like and give it to you the next day at school (As long as it's not those stinky plants he'll give whatever to you)

Jinwoo was always the listener type of guy after all, he enjoys hearing all sorts of things from you.

He may pay attention closely, but sometimes his mind just completely wanders to your beautiful face.

He loves the way you light up whenever you ramble.

How could he ever pay attention to anywhere else when you are being this precious?

That precious and beautiful face that he wants to cherish and pamper all the time.

He loves you so much

So...So Much

Jinwoo would do anything for you.

#solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x gn reader #solo leveling headcanons #sung jinwoo hcs #sung jinwoo headcanons #sung jinwoo

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umeoniii · 1 year

Note

JOB INTERVIEW??? NO COMEBACK!!! finish what you started hange😭😭 that was so good omg i loved it 💛💛

neet hange pt 2 _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

!: fem bodied reader, smut

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'U・x・U'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

neet hange didn’t want a job but had to get one so you wouldn’t think she was an embarrassment or failure. she walked to her interview to be a barista, she didn’t want to but she had no choice.

when she was at the interview she was practically on her knees begging for the job. she desperately needed it. it was gonna be hard working since she really haven’t had any social interactions since she got fired. only the mailman, her parents and you. she was so happy when the interviewer handed her the apron and visor.

on her way home she stopped by your apartment, knocking frantically. when you opened she looked at you with no emotion. “did you get it?” you asked her excitedly.

she pulled the apron out from behind her back smiling. she hugged you picking you up spinning you around. she was so happy that she was gettin better. when she put you down you grabbed her cheeks with both hands giving her a soft kiss on her lips. she could taste your cupcake flavored chapstick. she quite literally almost pissed herself.

you and hange technically were not together, she was more of a friend with benefits, sneaky link, whatever you wanted to call it, for whatever reason. she thought that if she got a job maybe you’d change the way you felt about her. you let go of her “im so proud of you!”

“c’mere, sit sit. im gonna bake you a cake real quick.” you grin at her.

she was happy about her job, just a little sad about you.

you two sat eating the cake talking about what she was gonna spend her money on and how she was gonna get her old job back. she left going back to her apartment taking a shower then lying down in her bed, no longer cluttered because you helped her clean her apartment.

as she layed down she thought about u, it was so hard for her to not have u constantly on her mind. she has just met you a few months earlier, but you were the light of her life. her fingers drifted down to her underwear, stuffing her hole with her fingers, slowly going in and out as she gasps your name quietly.

next morning she got up getting ready for work. on her way out she saw you outside of her apartment door with a bag. “it’s lunch” you said handing it to her. she smiled giving you a hug then taking the train to work.

she almost vomited after taking her first order it was lowkey a lot but she put a smile on and did what she had to do. when it was lunch she opened the bag and read a small not you left, “hange, have a great day at work and don’t worry about talking to people, just imagine they’re me or your parents! have a great day i love you, enjoy the sandwich and i have a surprise for you later!” she smiled taking a bite of the sandwich.

when her shift was over she took the train home and knocked on your door when she opened she saw you in a red dress, with your hair curled and put up. you pulled her to sit down at the table to have dinner with you. “how was your first day?” you asked digging in your food. she told you all about her day.

“that’s great han!” you smiled. she nodded with a soft smile. you had noticed something was up with her for at least a few weeks. you had decided to inquire about it. “what’s up? you’ve looked kinda sad for a while, has anything happened?” you asked her.

she just had to tell you, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “it’s just that, i don’t know y/n, would it be weird if i said that i didn’t wanna be whatever we are anymore? i mean i like you a lot, you’re one of the first people who treats me well. if i’m being honest i don’t wanna fuck you like once a week then go back to being just, i don’t know normal.” she exclaims stressfully.

you understood what she was saying completely. you were actually planning on taking her out and asking to make things official. “i understand hange, i was actually gonna ask if you wanted to be in a relationship. because you’re right the on and off thing is kinda weird.” hange’s demeanor completely changed as she nodded quickly agreeing with you. then getting up to hug you.

a few hours later, your other surprise after hange’s first day was literally eating her out.

this was actually like the first time you did anything to hange. all the times you had sex she was giving it to you. you enjoyed it though, licking at her clit, stuffing tongue into her practically virgin hole. “y/n , fuck.” she mewled teary eyed bucking her hips into your mouth. you grabbed her tits for leverage as she continued riding your face crying out your name. saliva and cum coating her puffy folds.

she wrapped her legs around your neck as you kissed her sweet pussy, gripping her thighs. “you taste so good.” you whine into her, spreading her lips. as you continue to lick at her she looked down at you, cupping your cheek with her hand. “fuck, this is the best i’ve ever felt in my entire existence.” she cried out her fingers entangled in your hair. she was sweating, beads of sweat ran down her forehead and legs. the only noises in the whole apartment were that of her moans and the smacking of you eating her cunt.

you pushed your fingers in her, thrusting slowly as she told you breathy, “i used to do this exact same thing while thinking about you.” she smirked looking down. you looked up still licking her clit. as you continued pleasing your lover, you noticed her moaning turn into small whines as she was getting closer to her orgasm.

“my ex never ever fucked me even close to the way you could hange, that’s why you deserve everything i can possibly offer.” you say getting back to lapping at her hardened bud. she whines louder before and came, cum slowly creeping out of her hole like molasses. you lick it up and get up to kiss her, holding her cheeks, sucking on her tongue as she holds you close grabbing your ass.

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wintervalewritersecond · 1 year

Text

newfound emotions - rowan laslow

masterlist

requested: yes! requests: open! Helloo I really like your rowan fics I love how you characterize him, and I love the enemies to lovers so maybe you could do a part two of that enemies to lovers fic with the reader and Rowan spending time together and one of them confessing unintentionally, i just want sum fluff (♡μ_μ)

I LOVED YOUR ROWAN ENEMIES TO LOVERS FANFIC SM, I JUST NEED MORE OF THAT 😫😫😫 (if you want ofc c:)))

AN: WAHH im glad you liked it! thank you for liking how i write rowan :') we don't have too much information abt him from the netflix show, so i am secretly (not so secretly) hoping that he will return in season two :) for now, thank you, and have fun reading!

wordcount: 2.916 warnings: she/her reader, xavier is mentioned/in scenes, friends to lovers, high reader, talk about weed

After finally getting back and being scolded by your teachers, you hang out with Rowan more and more. Much to everyone's surprise.

"And where have you been, miss Y/L/N and mister Laslow?"

"We," you raise your eyebrows. "Got stuck in the rain, had to walk back, and then we had to sleep in some abandoned-looking hotel until we could get a bus back."

Principal Weems leans back in her chair, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. You looked like you just woke up - you did. You had accidentally fallen asleep while on the bus, Rowan waking you up again. This time, softly. No elbow to the ribs, but instead, soft taps on your shoulders. He even carried your bag to Nevermore.

You had ended up in the office, standing in front of Weems awkwardly. She only blinked, before breathing in deeply.

"Okay. You have missed classes today," she looks at the two of you sternly. "You can get the homework from the teachers, make sure to finish that. You are dismissed."

You give Rowan a look before turning around, leaving the office and finally sighing as the door closes behind the two of you. How was it your fault that they left without you? Sure, you should have been at the bus on time, but they should have done their job to make sure everyone was there.

"So," he lets out an awkward laugh. "Ready to catch up on some sleep?"

"I'm already as awake as I can be," you smile. "Maybe we can go for breakfast?"

"Quad or Weathervane?"

"Oh," you exclaim. "Weathervane, for sure! Have you ever had their cinnamon rolls?"

"Cinnamon rolls for breakfast?"

"Let's put our stuff away and go to the Weathervane. I am not taking this bag again and I really want to change into a new set of clothes."

Rowan agrees with you, sending you a quick smile before walking off to his own room. It still quite confused you to suddenly be so... friendly, with him. You had completely forgotten that that is how it started. To be honest, you didn't even realize that Rowan had heard it.

When Rowan enters his dorm, he sees Xavier waiting for him already.

"Man, where were you?!"

"Oh, hey," he awkwardly greets his roommate. "Yeah, uh, Weems kinda left me and Y/N stranded at that museum."

"Jesus," the boy grimaces. "In the storm? And with Y/N? Sounds like your nightmare."

Though Xavier knows all about the little fights between you and Rowan. He is friends with both of you, so he often heard both sides of whatever argument it was.

"No," he shakes his head. "We went to get a hotel after running through the rain."

Xavier doesn't hear any mean remarks about how you were annoying, stupid, dumb, or anything else. Something rather unusual.

"No fighting?"

"Eh," Rowan lets out a laugh. "A little bit. Apparently, she didn't even remember why we started fighting."

Xavier leans against his desk, raising an eyebrow. He had heard multiple times about the origin of Rowan and his hatred for you. Not only that, but the conversation was actually between you and Xavier.

"We actually made up."

"Huh?" Xavier exclaims with a laugh. "Is that real? I have never seen people bicker as much as the two of you."

The bag that sat on Rowan his shoulder gets placed on the floor as he pulls everything out. Some of the stuff was still damp as there was no place for all of it to dry. Even the notebook that was hidden in the bottom of the bag had not fully survived.

"Yeah, it's real," he nods. "Apparently, she did like me back then."

"Oh, I totally thought that already. But then she made that comment and it completely- poof."

All the damp clothes get discarded into the bathroom as Rowan quickly pulls a flannel and zip-up hoodie out of his closet. It might not be the most fashionable thing, but at least he feels comfortable in it. Why is he suddenly nervous about what he is wearing? He never had this feeling but now...

"You leaving already?"

The boy nods, stuffing his wallet and phone in the pocket of his jeans. He nervously glances in the mirror before spraying some perfume on his neck.

"Yeah, I uh- We are going to get breakfast. Neither of us ate anything since like, yesterday."

"You and Y/N?"

Rowan only nods, fixing his hair before walking up to the door. He says goodbye to Xavier, but doesn't really get a response. The boy is too busy muttering to himself, asking what the hell has happened that made you and Rowan turn into friends.

The boy didn't remember asking you where to meet, so he patiently waited in the Quad. He saw you coming down the stairs already, so he wiped his hands on his pants before walking over. Jesus, Rowan, why are you so nervous? You literally fought with each other yesterday, but the conversations throughout the night changed everything.

"Rowan! Hey," you smile, slightly out of breath from running down the stairs.

You had changed your clothing, switching to something dry and more comfortable. You have a tote bag on your shoulder - you didn't need a lot of things anyway.

"Ready for breakfast?"

It didn't stop at breakfast.

Weeks passed when you and Rowan would hang out. It nearly happens every single day now. Be it while sitting together in class, meeting up in one of your dorms, or even going to Jericho.

There have been moments where you really wanted to hit yourself in the head for how dumb you acted in the past. Maybe even you just admitted to Xavier that day. If you had just admitted to him that you had a huge crush on Rowan. What would have happened then? Maybe you would have even been dating- No.

Come on! You can't think that. You spent months bickering and fighting with Rowan. You thought that your crush would have faded by now - and for a bit, it actually did. But hearing that Rowan actually used to like you, sparked a bit of hope in your heart.

You now lay with your stomach down on Rowan his bed, flipping through the book you were reading. He sat at his desk, scribbling away in his notebook which is now filled with most of his homework.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You hum in response, looking up from your book.

"Do you have more paper? I think I ran out."

"Yeah, of course! It's in my bag."

He thanks you with a big smile, pushing his chair to reach your bag. He opens the zipper, taking out your sketchbook. You always had a few spare pieces of paper stuck in it, just in case you needed them. Rowan places the sketchbook on his desk, opening it to take some of the paper out, pausing for a second when he sees what is on the rest of the pages.

On the paper that actually is stuck in the sketchbook is his own face, perfectly drawn. It is almost like he is staring into a mirror. When he glances at you, he sees that your nose is still stuck in the book, so he quietly closes the sketchbook again, a faint smile on his face.

When he is finally done with his homework, he sits down next to you on the bed, reading along with you. Not that he is that focused on the book. He feels very nervous to sit this close to you, but he does not mind being here. You still lay on your stomach as he sits up, his head leaning down to see the text on the pages.

He might have been leaning down for too long as his glasses snip off of his nose, falling on your book. You let out a laugh before taking hold of the item, pushing yourself up to sit opposite Rowan.

"You need to get these fixed," you hum, cleaning the glass before holding it up to the light, making sure that it is actually clean.

"Yeah," Rowan sighs, "I am just too lazy."

You laugh again before softly placing the glasses back on his nose, making sure the legs are tucked behind his ears before softly dropping your hand back in your lap. Your eyes are still focused on him as you breathe in shakily. Rowan blinks a few times, his heart beating faster as the two of you slowly inch closer to each other. Is this it? Is this the moment?

Footsteps outside of the door can be heard before it opens, you and Rowan pulling away from each other as you quickly grab hold of your book again, nervously looking at the door.

"Hey, Y/N, hey, Rowan."

"Hey Xavier," you both respond in unison.

Not long after, you decided to go to your own dorm, telling Rowan that you have homework to do and that you really had to focus. After giving him a quick hug, you left for your own dorm. You had to get your head straight.

It returned back to normal after that awkward encounter. You still sat together during classes, still spent time with him in his dorm, and you still felt hopelessly in love with him. Something about that moment just... changed things. For the better? Hopefully. You wished to actually do whatever your heart was set on.

Today was the day when Yoko planned another cocktail party. You don't really drink, but there wouldn't really be any alcohol anyway. You were sure that you would be able to get some of Ajax his stuff. Even though you aren't in the Nightshades, you are befriended by everyone in the group, so you are still invited to their private parties.

You were in charge of snacks, and oh, did you live up to the expectations. You arrived with bags full of chips, chocolate, muffins, and even a cake. The grocery store in Jericho must be entirely sold out by now. The only people already in the library are Ajax, Yoko, and Bianca. The Siren is already holding a glass filled with liquid and Ajax has a lit joint in his mouth. When he sees you approach the group he grins, holding out the lit joint for you while snatching a bag of chips out of your backpack.

After all the food is placed on the table, you hear more footsteps come down the stairs. Rowan and Xavier are talking, saying hello to the group before sitting down on the makeshift couch. You hand the joint back to Ajax, thanking him before carefully making your way to the chair you sat in before. Your mind feels a bit hazy in the most comfortable way possible. It is like you have a thick blanket draped over your shoulders.

The party was a big success.

Almost all of the food got eaten, a ton of drinks got consumed, and Ajax even let you roll some more joints from which some of them also got smoked. The only ones completely sober are Rowan and Enid, both sipping a mocktail instead. During the night, you switched seats with Xavier. He now sat in the chair as you sat on the couch, right next to Rowan. You slowly slouch down the couch more and more, your eyes droopy and tinted red.

You listen to the story he is telling, his hands moving while he talks. Though you can barely focus on most of the words he says, the feeling of him speaking still makes you feel... something. You look up at him from your position as you nearly lay with your head in his lap. His eyelashes are long, making his eyes look even more magical than they normally do. The way his lips move as he talks is almost as mesmerizing as the way his eyes sparkle while talking.

He doesn't even seem to care that your head is in his lap as his hand makes its way to your hair without him even thinking about it. He still sips his drink while talking with Xavier and Kent, though now also stroking your hair and twirling a strand of it around his finger.

"I think it's time to go," Rowan looks down at you, a smile on his face. "Before you actually fall asleep."

Huh? You fell asleep?

You slowly sit up, licking your lips. Your mouth feels disgustingly dry.

"Yeah, us too."

You barely register the people around you moving as you look at only Rowan. He reaches behind him, holding out a bottle of water to you. You take it, whispering a thank you before taking a big gulp.

"I'm going to drop Y/N off at her dorm."

"Alright," Xavier nods, raising his eyebrow as he grins. "Night Rowan, night Y/N!"

"G'night Xavier," you yawn, clinging onto Rowan his arm as he guides you upstairs.

He smells so nice. The smell used to disgust you. Wood, flowers, citrus. Even a hint of fruit. You want everything to smell like it now. Your clothing, your bed, your shampoo - you just want him.

"Come on, sleepyhead," you hear Rowan chuckle. "Almost at your dorm. Before Thornhill sees you, huh?"

"I'm not a sleepyhead," you respond, a yawn cutting you off.

"Sure," Rowan nods. "And you aren't high either, are you?"

You turn your head to face him, stopping in your tracks. But, your movements are way slower than they should be. Rowan just watches you with an amused expression, his hand on the small of your back to hold you steady as you still think about something to say.

Nothing comes out, so you just giggle before walking again. He makes you feel so giddy and excited. There is no way to explain it. Maybe it is because you're high. No, you also feel like this when you aren't.

"Here we go," Rowan opens your door, guiding you inside before making you sit on the bed. "Shoes?"

You slowly undo your laces, your eyes unfocusing every few seconds. In the meanwhile, Rowan has already taken a pair of pajamas out of your closet, placing them next to you before heading into the bathroom. There is toothpaste on your toothbrush and make-up remover in his hands.

"Go brush your teeth," he says, making you groan. "Come on, you're going to regret it in the morning."

He knows you too well. You quickly brush your teeth, changing in the bathroom before stepping out. He hands you a wipe as you wipe off your make-up, slipping underneath your covers.

"Good night, Y/N," Rowan smiles, a glass of water on your bedside table as you shake your head.

"I have to tell you something."

"Hm?"

Rowan looks at you with an amused look, sitting at the edge of your bed. Your eyes are tinted red, and he knew that you were high. He finds it very funny, actually.

You would always come up with the weirdest things, and considering he did not smoke, he just learned how to go with it.

"You are so pretty," the whisper leaves your lips.

His heart stops beating for a second. Sure, he has hugged you, even held your hand, and you have fallen asleep on him more times than he can count. The two of you almost kissed before but never talked about it ever again.

"I'm serious," you yawn. "If you were my boyfriend - God. So gorgeous. Really."

A blush raises to his cheeks as he breathes in deeply, brushing your hair out of your face one last time before smiling, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"You are gorgeous too," he smiles at you fondly before switching your night lamp off. "Goodnight."

"No kiss?"

Rowan laughs before shaking his head.

"Tomorrow. When you're sober."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

When the door behind him closes, he breathes in shakily. Where did all the sudden courage come from? Normally, he wouldn't really say something like that out loud. He wants to kiss you, that is for sure, but to promise one tomorrow? God, he wishes you would forget. But, being high is not the same as being drunk... Right?

It is early in the morning as Rowan finishes tying his tie. Xavier left even earlier than him, wanting some time in the art shed before heading to class. The boy runs his hand through his hair one last time, checking his appearance in the mirror once more before a knock is heard on the door. Is Xavier back?

When he opens it, he sees you, smiling brightly while holding onto your backpack.

"Good morning," he smiles. "Come in."

You skip in, your bag now on the ground as you sit down on his neatly made bed. The two of you have the usual talk - how are you feeling today, any plans, did you make all your homework? Then, it is time to head out. But, before Rowan places his hand on the door handle, you stop him.

"Hey, Rowan?"

"Yeah?"

He turns around, seeing you much closer to him than he expected. You look up at him with a smile on your face and one eyebrow raised.

"Little birdie told me that someone promised me something yesterday," you huff, though the smile never leaving. "A kiss, perhaps?"

Shit. You remember. Rowan opens his mouth nervously, blinking before closing it again.

"Only... Only if you want," he looks at you almost nervously.

You softly place your hands on his cheeks, looking up at him.

"From you? Always."

#wednesday imagine #wednesday oneshot #rowan laslow #rowan laslow imagine #rowan laslow x reader #rowan laslow oneshot

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pedropascalsx · 2 years

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parts left, parts gained. {javier peña x f! reader}

summary: javier filled in for a lecturer friend as they take an extended break from teaching following his return from colombia.

warnings: a little angst, sadness, mentions of prescribed medications, very soft! javier peña, oral (f) receiving, p in v sex.

word count: 4.8k

eating: explicit

a/n: idk what this is. idk why i wrote it and im begging y’all to expect nothing from it, because it’s not very good.

not beta’d or read back because i cant read my own work ok.

thank you to my sweet loves @queenofthefaceless and @theewokingdead for being so supportive as i struggled my way through this.

These days sleep feels more like a distant memory than an everyday occurrence. His body craves it, his joints ache and cry out in the form of swelling and painful locking as they beg for some sort of relief, but instead he lives the pain. He tells himself it’s a small price he deserves to pay for all the mistakes he made along the way. Not so much a reminder that he survived, more like proof that he is paying for some of the crimes he’s created in his head. Each pull of the trigger, each order that soaked the streets with blood; even if they deserved it, he couldn’t get past contributing to the blood bath.

Every ache or jolt of pain forces him to relive a memory that he refuses to bury or justify. Each mistake weighs him down more and more as time slowly ticks by.

Javier Peña may have left Colombia over a year ago, but Colombia refuses to leave him.

The shower was much too hot, the ache in his shoulders being replaced by a sharp stinging as the water rained down on him. The work he had completed on the ranch already that morning had added to the months of exhaustion he was drowning in.

He had been to see a doctor, was making weekly trips to a therapist and they’d both suggested medication. The latter wrote a script for a low dose sleeping aid that he refused to touch. It took him two days to pick up the prescription, he slowly stalked each aisle of the pharmacy owned by the lady that still affectionately referred to Javier as mijo - he had once spent his Saturdays sweeping the floors and refilling the Candy shelves to earn a little money and after his Mom had died.

She could see the years of disruption in his eyes. She could feel the way that half the people in her store looked upon him as a hero and the others still glared at him for leaving his childhood sweetheart at the altar.

Javier barely said a word to her, if he was honest he barely spoke to anyone these days. He responded in short answers to his therapist, some weeks he would start to give a little more and then for weeks afterwards he’d seem to scale back even more. His dad would get tidbits of information if and when Javier was willing to share it, but knew not to press on him.

The only time he ever really spoke was on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings when he filled in for a professor friend that had taken an extended leave of absence at the college he taught.

Criminal Justice. Justice. The word felt heavy on his tongue. Some days it felt like it would slip back down his throat and slowly choke him and maybe one day it would.

He stood there in front of those kids, dodging questions and snide remarks about what he had been up to when he was taking down Escobar and the Cali Cartel.

His schedule today would find him completing his lecture and making his way to the airport. He had been asked to attend a conference by the department head at the college, he would be attending with his teaching assistant and they’d be spending two nights in a hotel in Houston.

He finished up his shower with a groan and got dried and dressed before pulling a few shirts, pants and clear underwear into a suitcase. His fingers lingered over the orange bottle that housed the pills he had been so reluctant to take, ultimately sweeping them up with the tips of his fingers and just dropping them unceremoniously into the case, before zipping it up and making his way downstairs.

“You fixed up the gate?” his father called out from the paper he was reading and sipping his tea behind.

“Needed to be done,” he said with a slight shrug, “I got this conference so figured I'll get it done before I go.”

Chucho hummed out a sharp mhmm, the words that he wanted to say being kept back by years of knowing when to keep his mouth shut when it came to his son. He folded over his paper and placed it down on his lap, “You’ll give me a call when you get to Houston, let me know you arrived okay?”

“Course, pops, I'll see you in a few.”

The door lightly slammed shut behind him and he made his way to his truck, throwing his case in the back and climbing in and soaring towards the college.

A few days somewhere else might be a nice reset, he soothed to himself.

You were nervous. The backpack filled with far too many clothes rested uncomfortably on your shoulders as you walked into the lecture hall… and fuck you were late.

Traffic had been a nightmare and your stomach was filled with butterflies, you hated conferences and you hated having to mingle even more. The rooms always filled with men who seemed hellbent on tripping you up and raising an eyebrow at your choice of career.

You were secretly excited to spend a little time with Javier though. He was kind, quiet, always happy to help and the fact he’s outrageously handsome doesn’t help either.

Both of you had immediately hit it off, and you’d realised very quickly that certain subjects seemed completely off-limits to Professor Peña and he respected that you never pushed when it seemed like no one else had a problem with pushing him.

He simply nodded at you as you entered the lecture hall, eyes flickering back and forth to the crowd and you as you made your way to the desk on the far right hand side of where he was discussing the importance of time, and how rushing into something seldom ends well.

It never stops fascinating you how he pulled the attention of everyone in the room with very little effort, he didn’t need to create a fuss or spend hours working on displays to earn the attention of people; it was just him and his experience in the field that captivated people.

And sure… there was the old class clown that would make stupid comments or continuously reference Colombia and the rumours of reputation he had there that had followed him back to Laredo, but he never retaliated. He’d just ignore the comment and swiftly move on.

You took notes as he went on with the lecture, watching in awe as he took the time to make eye contact and answer each sensible question that was sent his way with his students. His hands tucked into his pants pocket as he did so. You’d made a joke the week before about how he needed a tweed jacket with elbow patches and then he’d really have the look and your heart fluttered at the memory of his eyes flashing up with something that didn’t just resemble sadness for a few seconds.

The minute the lecture had finished he gestured for you to meet him in the office on the side of the hall and you wasted no time in following him.

He handed you a small folder that housed an itinerary and a few pamphlets to local bars, restaurants and attractions situated around the hotel in Houston.

“I figured these would be of more use to you than I,” he said with a smirk, “Room service and the hotel bar will suit me just fine.”

“Same,” you replied with a little too much gusto and you couldn’t help but notice the way his lips curled up for a split second, “I’m uh- not a big fan of navigating places I don’t know well.”

“Gotcha.” He says before reaching into his own folder, “One last thing, so we only got one parking permit for the airport. So I was going to leave my truck here and I’ll get a cab to the airport and you can have the permit.”

“You don’t trust my driving?” you ask with a smirk, “What sense does it make for you to pay for a cab, Mr Peña?”

“Just Javi. And if you’re sure. I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Feel free to presume away,” you quip back with a smile, “I need to grab some paperwork from the teacher's lounge but I'll only take a minute. It’s the beat up black sedan parked next to the library.” You hand him your key and he gives you a polite smile in return.

He barely talks on the ride to the airport, his hands resting comfortably in his lap as he looks out the window, occasionally tapping his finger to the hum of the radio.

“Have you ever been to Houston before?” he asks as you search the parking lot for a space.

“Nope, this will be the first time,” you say with a shrug, “I wanted to visit Houston as a kid but money was tight. I was really into Space and I've been meaning to visit since the Space Center opened a few years ago.”

“Mhmm,” he hums back before pointing out a spot, “Well, tomorrow is full, but maybe Saturday before we fly home. We’ve got an evening flight.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Why does liquor always taste better in an airport?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence you had been sitting in for the last half hour.

“I think it’s psychological,” he says with a grin, “You have to pretend it tastes better to justify the price.”

You giggle at his response before taking a bite of the burger that he had insisted on buying you lunch for driving him to the airport.

“I keep having to remind myself they’re not taking me back there,” he says, staring out at the planes with a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

It’s almost instinct the way your hand reaches out and covers his, giving him a few reassuring squeezes before pulling it back. “Not all of you came back, did it?” you ask with a soft gentleness to your voice that wasn’t there before.

“No,” he replies quickly.

The flight was quicker than they thought it would be, the wind seemed to be blowing in favour of the plane and it ended up on the tarmac twenty minutes earlier than expected.

Javi insisted on letting you have the window seat and didn’t complain once, not even when the lady beside him ended up using his shoulder as a pillow after falling asleep within minutes of being in the air. He stifled a laugh when it happened and just accepted his fate, graciously staying as still as he could as she enjoyed her slumber.

Secretly a fleeting feeling of jealousy swept through his stomach when he saw how easily she drifted off, how comfortable she was just letting herself sleep surrounded by a bunch of strangers and how she remained asleep until the pilot announced that the plane would be landing shortly.

She said nothing to him as she slowly lifted her head off of his shoulder, she just looked around and sighed as she realised she’d slept the entire flight.

“Straight to pick up the rental car and onto the hotel or did you want to go anywhere first?” he asked as you de boarded the plane.

“The hotel sounds good,” you say as you follow closely behind him, watching the way he seems to effortlessly weave throughout the crowd.

You perch on the edge of the sofa with both of your cases in front of you in the rental store as he chats to the clearly enamoured girl working behind the desk, you wonder if he’d flirt back if you weren't waiting there for him. But he seems almost oblivious to her affection, so focused on the task he’s in the middle of doing, that he somehow can’t see the way she’s fluttering her eyelashes and not so subtly pushing her cleavage together in the top you’re almost certain he can see down.

You’d heard the rumours, you’d read the articles and you’d been in Laredo long enough to know that Javier Peña had a bit of a reputation for being a ladies man, but you’d never witnessed it first hand.

He was always professional, always kept the students that kept no secret of finding him attractive at arms length and didn’t seem interested in crossing any lines with the female professors that shamelessly flirted with him in the staff room. Honestly, you had spent many nights wondering if he had a secret lover that he kept sheltered away from the rumours and lingering glances.

“Ready?” he calls out before grabbing both of your cases and making his way to the car.

“You know that you had an admirer back there?” you ask with a grin, “I could feel her shooting dagger into my back as we walked out the store.”

He scoffs before laughing, “She wrote her number on the pamphlet and promised to show me the best bars in houston.”

“Oh,” you say with a raised eyebrow, “Sounds like you’ve got a busy few days ahead of you.”

Jealousy is an ugly emotion and you bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep it at bay, you had no right to be jealous, and you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable by coming across as so.

“No,” he says, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to glance over at you, “I politely declined.”

He wouldn’t deny it if someone asked if he found you attractive, he doesn’t think he’d be able to. He’s thought that you’re gorgeous since the first time you bounced into his office, arm outstretched as you introduced yourself with a giggle that seemed to burrow its way into his chest.

You were smart, funny and you never made him feel like he owed you any explanations. From the moment he’d left Colombia he was bombarded with questions about where he’d been, how he took down Escobar and a few had even dared to ask how he could bear to show his face around Laredo again. The few small minded folk somehow louder than everyone else as they’d bought up his past mistakes and continued to berate him for it, as if he hadn’t been punishing himself for years and years.

It made him comfortable knowing he could sit down next to you and have a conversation that wouldn’t end up with you asking questions about things that he wasn’t ready to talk about. And thinking about him wouldn't be able to deny the relief he felt when he found out it would be you accompanying him on this trip.

You were easy for him to be around, always helpful, always cheerful and he was starting to look forward to the next few days.

“No,” he repeated sternly but fairly to the hotel receptionist, “It’s two rooms. I have the confirmation here.”

“There was an issue with the booking,” he said with an uncaring tone as he slammed the key down next to Javi’s paperwork, “We don’t have a second room to give to you, the company will send a cheque to reimburse you for the mistake, but we are fully booked and there is nothing else I can help you with at this moment.”

Javier bites down a growl as he swipes the key from the counter and looks across at you with sorry eyes, before walking towards the elevator.

“I’ll take the pull out,” he said not meeting your gaze, “Or I can find a different hotel if you’re uncomfortable sharing.”

“I'm not uncomfortable and you’re not taking the pull out. I am. You know you panic too much, Javi.”

“So I've been told,” he says with a slight roll of his eyes as he enters the elevator.

You bounce down the hall to the room, unlocking it and swiftly letting yourself in, Javier trailing closely behind.

He sighs from the frame of the door behind you as you stand in the middle of the room, “No pull out?”

“Nope,” you say with a shrug, “Just a regular couch. But I’ll be comfortable enough.”

“No you won’t.” He says from behind gritted teeth.

“Yes. I will. I’m going to take a shower, you’re going to order room service and we are going to take full advantage of the fact the department is paying for it all,” you grab your case from his hand and make your way into the bathroom, “I want whatever costs the most.”

“That water pressure is phenomenal,” you say with a giggle as you run your fingers through your hair and place yourself down next to him on the sofa. “Did you order room service?”

“Yeah, it shouldn't be too long. Hope you’re hungry because I might have gone a little overboard.”

“Sounds perfect,” you say as make yourself comfortable on the little couch and watch him channel surf before settling on Wheel of Fortune.

“I love Wheel of Fortune,” you admit with a giggle, “Reminds me of home.”

“Same,” he says with a smile, “You sure you’re not wanting to explore the bright lights of Houston TX?”

“I’ll pass. Unless you want to be my tour guide? You’ve visited before, right?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” he shrugs, “Dinner, movie and bed is all that’s on

the agenda tonight.”

His mind races for a few seconds as he considers taking a sleeping pill as the situation he’s in catches up to him. He doesn’t want to keep you up, he feels waves of guilt reaching back and forth in his stomach at the fact you’re adamant he gets to have the bed and just as he feels his anxiety begin to rise, he’s pulled back into the present by your sofa hand reaching out and gently squeezing his thigh.

“You still with me?” you ask gently as you begin to recognise the signs of an anxiety attack.

“Ye-yeah,” he stutters before the sound of rapid knocking at the door makes you both jump, “Hungry?”

The evening flies by, you both settled down comfortably on the bed as you watched a movie together. Still picking at leftovers from the feast you had delivered to the room.

“Me and my old partner Steve were sent on a stakeout in Medellin and ended up in this hotel that was far too fancy for either of us and he decided to order everything he’d ever wanted to try from the menu… Courtesy of the DEA of course! He passed out from eating too much and I spent the rest of the evening trying to focus on the target and not killing Steve for snoring so loudly.”

His fingertips run around in little circles on top of the bedspread as for the first time he speaks about a memory in Colombia without grimacing.

“Do you still speak to him?”

He nods a few times before talking, “Yeah, a couple of times a week. He and his wife adopted a little girl when we were out there… made me godfather after I returned home.”

“The picture on your desk in your office?” you ask as you think about it; a small child perched on his lap and pulling on his moustache as he just looks at her with an amused look on his face.

“Yep, that’s her, Olivia.”

“She’s cute. I wondered if she was your daughter for a while, and then I heard you mention you never had children of your own.”

He hums before turning his attention back to the television and you reach out again to squeeze his hand. You think it lingers for a second too long, until you go to pull it away and he curls his fist gently, keeping your fingers interlocked with his as he does so.

“Do you think you’ll continue teaching once Geoff is back?” you ask, the courage coming from somewhere deep inside your chest as you ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind for weeks.

“Maybe,” he murmurs before rubbing his chin, “Haven't really thought about it.”

“The kids would miss you,” you say with a smile, “I’ve never seen a class so interested in what their professor has to say until I saw you teach.”

“I guess I’ll have to see what they say once Geoff is back, no point making plans if they decide that don’t need me anymore.”

“Oh, please,” you say as a smile spreads across your face, “They’d snap you up within seconds. You can’t pretend you have heard how badly that they want you to take up a permanent position there?”

He breathes out a contented scoff before shrugging, “I might have a letter in my desk that’s asking if I’d consider it.”

“So much for having to see, Mr. Peña,” you say with an exaggerated gasp, “You already know how much we’d all miss you if you left us.”

“You’d miss the stories,” he quips back and much too quickly for your own liking you respond.

“No, I never ask for the stories,” your breath slightly hitches as you slowly finish the end of your sentence, “I’d miss the kind man that I thoroughly enjoy working under.”

You turn to face him, studying the way he’s studying you, already taking in every part of your face.

And then his lips are on yours, one of his hands is gripping the bottom of your chin as yours finds its place on his chest, his tongue pushing through your lips as he deepens the kiss further.

You’re not sure how long he kisses you for but you curse yourself every time you need to come up for air, but the second you’ve inhaled he’s pulling you back in for more, his mouth just as desperate as your own as you seek out to know him in the ways you’ve dreamed about for the past few months.

Your hands thumble with the buttons of his shirt, trying to remain as delicate and careful as they can as he transports you somewhere extraordinary with every trace of his lips.

Every move is slow, calculated and somehow more breathtaking than the one before. He takes his time, removes your dress in one fluid motion but slow enough so that he can take in every newly revealed inch of you as he does so. His hands trailing down your body, his lips gently latching up to the hardened bud of your nipple and his own breath hitching as you moan out a sign of pleasure as he rolls it between his teeth.

He continues his journey, his hands and lips covering every part of you that they can. His mouth chanting a silent prayer of worship as his lips reach the bottom of your belly button. He peppers a few light kisses there before lifting his head and asking a question that you have to tell yourself not to yell at in reply.

“Can I taste you, Cariño?”

“Yes.”

He pulls your panties down your legs slowly, watching your face the entire time he does so. “I’ve thought about doing this,” he admits in a whisper, “Got myself off wondering about the soft sounds you’d make as I buried my face in your pussy.”

And the second the final word has fallen from his lips he’s doing it, tasting you like it’s the most important thing he’ll ever do. You taste sweet with a slight tang, and his cock throbs with every lap of his tongue. It’s been a long time since he experienced the taste of a woman, his last sexual encounters being back in Colombia and even then he wasn’t about to spread them out and really enjoy them.

But this, this was heaven. There are no exaggerated sounds of pleasure. It is not a quick rough emotionless transaction with the ultimate goal just being his pleasure and some shared information.

He had all the time he wanted with you, and he was damn sure going to use it right.

The sounds you made were like nothing he heard before, soft whimpers, moans that you seemingly had no control over and they filled the room and provided a perfect melody to this glorious happenstance.

His tongue dipped inside of you, tasting you everywhere he could before pulling back up to your little bundle of nerves and drawing out your pleasure with a series of perfectly precise licks and sucks. The essence of you coating his chin as he pulled your first orgasm out of you and diving back in for another.

It took no time at all and the second time you came you did so with a cry of his name. He kept thinking over and over that he could get used to this, used to the feeling of your fingers tangled up in his now erratic hair, used to you chanting his name like a prayer as he came on his tongue and rewarded him with a gush of your pleasure. It was pure heaven.

He lapped up every last drop, he could have spent hours down there but he couldn’t ignore the way he cock was straining against his zipper.

He pushes himself back off the bed and unzips his pants, freeing his already leaking cock as he did so and stroking himself as he looked down at you. Loving the sight of your legs spread and bliss etched on your face, he strikes himself a few more times before moving back in between your legs and leaning down to cover your lips with his.

“Can I?” he asks and you give him the yes that he’d craved more than any other in his 40+ years.

He gently pushes a pillow beneath your hips and lines himself up with you, kissing you once more before pushing the tip off him in. The thickness of him is thrilling, it pinches slightly as he notches himself in bit by bit and finally fills you to the hilt. “You okay?” he asks.

“I'm good, are you?”

“Yeah,” he says with a chuckle, “I’m really good.”

His movements are slow, but powerful, the drag of his thick cock is almost overwhelming but you can’t get enough. One of his hands squeezes your hip gently as the other squeezes the soft swell of your breast. He doesn’t want any of this to feel rushed, so he takes his time, taking you apart. Exploring whichever part of your body he mouth can reach as he continues thrusting in and out of you, groaning in delight when you clench around him.

The grip you have on him is indescribable, the way you suck him straight back in as he thrusts out, your bodies more intune than either of you have ever experienced with another person.

His moves his hand off your breast and wets the tip of two of his fingers with his tongue before bringing it down to your clit, rubbing it gently as you everything starts to go black with pleasure. You chant his name over and over as you clamp down around him, squeezing his cock so tightly so his breath becomes shaky and you come apart around him. Soaking his cock as it continues moving it and out of you.

He pulls himself out and strokes himself to completion, covering your glistening spread pussy with his spend and collapsing beside you after he does so.

At this moment, time belongs to you both.

There is no rushing, no schedules, no deadlines to be met. There is you and him and the afterglow of your bodies meeting for the first time.

Eventually, you both move, he gently guides you into the shower where he takes you again, a little quicker this time but making sure to be just as thorough with your pleasure.

That night sleep comes to Javier, it comes before he knows it’s coming. He wakes to the sound of the hotel room alarm blaring and you groaning as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

You both arrive at the conference an hour late, and leave after barely an hour. You spend the rest of the day getting to know each other in more ways than one as he fucks you well into the night. Once again feeling the welcoming embrace of sleep and your own after he does so.

Both of you joined in some way or another until you arrived back in Laredo.

You were really right. He thinks to himself. Maybe he left a bigger part of him back in Colombia than he realised, but what he knew right now, is that he is ready to start letting thing go. And he ready to fill those gaps with something better than ever before.

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