#pink clover press

[igorcanova]

My art piece for the Pink Clover Press Magazine Vol 2 (2021)

This was a thank-you letter to those who kept connections in times of social distancing.

#art #digital art #illustration #clip studio paint #artists on tumblr #zine #pink clover press

[ceruleancattail]

Summoning your familiar: Heartsabyul edition

Ace Trappola

You’re immediately engulfed in the scent of incense, a cloyingly sweet smell. A finger taps on both your shoulders playfully, coaxing your attention to your sides.

You turn left and right in turn, to see nothing but thin air. Before a laugh echoes out, and a finger pokes at your nose mischievously. Ace Trappola the kitsune himself, a crooked grin dancing on his lips. His ears twitch, the fur on them rippling with his every move. His tails are left loose behind him, swaying around with the beat of his pulse.

“Master, summoning me again so soon? Did ya miss me that much? You silly little sap- Aw, don’t be mad. I missed ya too. Ahem, anyways-

Whatcha need me for?”

Deuce Spade

A sharp boom resounds across the room. A cloud of smoke poofs up in front of you, as a pair of clawed feet hastily tries to find purchase on the ground. Deuce Spade appears before you, skidding to a halt.

Well, not before he crashes into you, fluffy tails cradling both of you as you two fall. Cushion you with a layer of fluff and fur. Deuce’s all in a fluster, pink tinting his cheeks. As fast as he can, he clambers off you,worry apparent in his gaze. Once you reassure him that you’re ok, his shoulders are slumping out of relief, a sheepish smile stretched across his lips.

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m not too used to being summoned by… anyone. I’ve forgotten how nice it is to be called by name…. To be called by you…

Urm! Enough with the sappy stuff! Deuce Spade, reporting for duty. Your command, Master?”

Cater Diamond

The moment his name leaves your lips, you see ghastly balls of white fire slowly ascend from the ground. They swirl around you, the warmth of the flames bleeding into your very soul.

Until you feel a weight press into your back, a pair of arms wrap themselves around your torso. Glancing back, you’re greeted with a pair of Emerald eyes, the ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. Cater Diamond, your familiar. His chest rests on the curve of your shoulder as he smiles, half lidded eyes never once leaving your face.

“Cater Diamond. Kitsune!

Currently bound in service to this cutie in my arms. Man, I wish I could hug ya forever, but since you’ve summoned me… we have things to do, yeah?

Direct me then, Master~”

Trey Clover

The smell of crushed clovers engulf your nostrils. A sweet, gentle earthy fragrance that caressed you softly. Tenderly, like the soft touch of a lover. A tail slowly snakes around your thigh, fur as soft as velvet on your skin.

A breath is blown into your ear, followed by a husky laugh, as rich as fine wine. You turn to face Trey, his head tilted ever slightly to the side. Eyes sparkling with amusement behind those glasses of his. Carefully, he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, a soft smile flickering across his lips.

“Trey Clover, kitsune.

At your service, always, my dear Master. Hm, have you eaten already? I’ve baked a few choice pastries back at home… it’s a pity I wasn’t able to pack them for you before you summoned me.

Well then, I’ll do my best to finish this up quickly for your sake then.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Wisps of flame burst into life right before your eyes, twisting and turning into flaming mirages of roses, crackling with pure heat. Nine tails of crimson fur settle onto the ground, trailing after him like a grand cloak of scarlet red.

A pair of rose red fox ears stand straight at attention, as Riddle Rosehearts casts an impressive silhouette before you. Before he turns around, and you can see the soft, gentle affection in his gaze. Taking a step forward, he drops to a knee, hand stretched forth, seeking the warmth of your very own. A old gentlemanly sort of gesture that looked odd on an all-powerful kitsune, but Riddle still insists on it, every time he’s summoned.

“Riddle Rosehearts, kitsune of the Heartsabyul clan. I have come in answer of your call, my Master.

Hm? I’m always so quick to appear? Well, it’s you calling, after all. It’s a duty, as a mystical creature contracted to a human.

After all, mortal lifespans tend to be a little insufficient… so to be punctual to your every whim is simply just my duty. Besides, it’s not like I mind terribly, hearing my name fall from your lips...”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #twst ace #ace x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #deuce #cater diamond #cater x reader #cater #cater diamond x reader #Trey clover #Trey #Trey x reader #Trey clover x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle #riddle x reader #mystic au #lucky potion #I wrote this and I forgot I made riddle a phoenix #fuck #it’s ok I’m changing their species like clothes trust and believe

[bowandcurtsey]

When someone else calls their s/o with their last name for the first time

(bc boys version) Haikyuu boys version here

So I decided to do a little quick piece amidst the 1700 event requests, because I miss black clover contents and I personally loved this fic and idea hehe. Here's one for all of you, something sweet and fuzzy.

Yami | Nozel | Fuegoleon | Zenon x F! Reader TW: unchecked You may of may not want to read this before reading yami's fic

Yami Sukehiro

You had to drag you husband’s ass out to the apartment viewing. You knew that low key, he found it hard to leave the bulls HQ. Afterall it was a place he found, built and had for a very long time.

But now that you’re married, it was only right for you two to have some alone and peaceful time without the walls breaking or anything catching fire at home.

Yami compromised to move and you compromised to find a place where the base can be nearby too.

“So, Mr Yami, your wife came the other day and she loved this place, how do you like it?”

“Yeah, whatever she likes.” Yami shrugged, he was okay with whatever, so long as you’re living with him.

“You have a lovely hubby, Mrs Yami. Aren’t you a lucky lady~” the agent smiled at you before her phone rang.

“Oh I have to get this, please excuse me for awhile, feel free to look around!” And she stepped out of the apartment

“So, Mrs Yami,” you were wrapped by his huge frame from the back, “is this our new love nest?”

You blushed and swatted him playfully, “if you like it!”

“I like it so long as the neighbours are okay with loud noises,” he smirked.

Nozel Silva

You were really busy with the wedding preparations , so you sent your fiancé to collect your customised gifts for your bridesmaids.

He stepped into the store and handed the receipt to the shopkeeper.

“Oh Mrs Silva’s gifts~” the lady said as she scurried to the back of the store.

Nozel stood there, stunned by what she said.

“Here you go,” she handed him the gifts awhile later, “you are Mr Silva?”

Nozel blinked, coming back to his senses, “yes.”

“Ah, Mrs Silva speaks a lot of you, I can tell she loves you very much.”

A blush crept up Nozel’s cheeks and painted it a tint of pink.

When he came home, he handed you the gifts.

“Thank you honey,” you smiled as you inspected the meticulous work.

“You’re welcome, Mrs Silva” he whispered in your ears before pressing a peck on your cheek.

Fuegoleon Vermillion

“Is Mrs Vermillion in?” A florist came into the crimson lion HQ one day.

“Mereo!” Fue was walking out from the pantry, “someone’s looking for you”

Mereo came out from the pantry with a cup of coffee in hand, “what?”

“Mrs Vermillion, I was told to come here to meet you,”

Mereo stared at the man for a few seconds, “what did you call me?”

The poor man read out the name on the paper carefully, “Mrs Ver-Mil-Lion, did I get that right?”

“Oi, dumb brother,” Mereo marched into Fue’s office to drag him out.

“Say it louder to his face, you’re looking for who again?”

“Mrs Vermillion, sir.”

Fuegoleon’s face turned bright red as he heard it from someone else for the first time.

“M-my wife-”

“Oh the florist is here!” You suddenly came in through the doors.

“Ah, Mrs Vermillion, I’ve been looking for you,” he bowed.

Fue stood there smiling with pride, he had to purse his lips a little so his smile wouldn’t get too wide as he listened in on the conversation with you and the florist on how to decor the place for the upcoming Crimson Lion anniversary.

You thanked the florist as he left.

“Mrs Vermillion sounds good on you, honey” he couldn’t contain his wide smiles.

“Oh honey,” you rolled your eyes cheekily at him, “please, your lips are about to reach your ears!”

Zenon Zogratis

He was kinda mad at you for going on a mission without telling him, so he didn't say a single word on the way to the restaurant as you celebrated your monthly date night.

"Do you have a reservation monsieur?" a waiter greeted you both.

"y/n." Zenon gave the waiter your name, since you booked the restaurant for tonight.

"let me see..." he scanned through the list of names, "ahh, Mrs Zogratis, si?"

"yep." you nodded shyly.

"And you must be Mr Zogratis, sir." the waiter beamed at the both of you, "lovely couple we have tonight, welcome in~"

He led you both to a quiet corner where you could oversee the spade kingdom. "Let me know when you're ready to order, Mr and Mrs Zogratis."

"are you still mad, Zen? You weren't back yet and it was a fast mission, so it slipped my mind to leave a note for you," you jutted your lip, pouting at your man.

"how could I stay mad, Mrs Zogratis?" his head rested on one hand, as he looked at you with soft ocean blue eyes.

You smiled shyly, it seemed surreal that now, you were married to this man.

"hmm, I should use this trump card more often~" you joked.

Zenon chuckled as he shook his head, what will he ever do with you.

#black clover zenon #zenon zogratis hcs #zenon zogratis x reader #zenon x reader #fuegoleon imagine #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #fuegoleon vermillion hc #fuegoleon x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel imagine #nozel x reader #yami x reader #yami sukehiro x reader #yami sukehiro headcanons #black clover headcanons #black clover imagine #black clover x reader #black clover scenarios #black clover fanfiction #black clover imagines #black clover x you #black clover x y/n

[dashjenners]

Honeyed | Joe Burrow

joe burrow x reader

words: 4.2k

synopsis: little late, but a cute offseason sunday picnic with jett 💙

warnings: unedited but probably one of the fluffier ones :) little man finally speaking his mind!

You felt warm and dozy; froths of sugar-pink buds in a gentle stir above you, their scent of vanilla-almond whirling as they hung in clusters on the gnarled branches. In between, twisted vine wrestled down to tufts of grass, upright and herbaceous but evenly glazed with mid-morning dew. It bears rainbow gems, filling the yard with a mellow haze that matches the aura of those light squeals just to the right of you. He had those baby-fat dimples and topaz eyes, sitting shyly at his feet in the playpen while the tiniest hands were tossing a few plastic balls, so puny they could only cover half. Even then, Jett was some huge, cosmic love, with beads of drool coating around his mouth and trickling down to his chin, just being your cutesy little boy.

The apple blossoms were just out, a warm delta breeze causing them to swirl about the backyard, and lowering your face, you stared at his lap where single petals curled. He teemed with life over the soft pink and purples that looked little and creased as they furl and unfurl between his fingers—his mouthing a healthy form of discovery as they slowly rose to those plump, glossy lips.

“Uh-uh, that’s not food bubs.” A laugh bubbled out of you, leaning up from the spread of fabric to snatch your little chunk just outside the mesh opening.

A heap of petals falls loosely, your mouth wide with fervor and cooing gentle praise as you lay back with him, his gurgles the purest of sounds. When you’ve settled, he crowds you instantly, those baby palms pausing on your warm chest with small wiggles in movement, that sweet face so close to your own. His clothes are so prim and sweet, a long-sleeved shirt under a pair of dungarees stained green from the dewy grasses, barely more than sixteen months but still so elfin before you.

Jett stood slowly, uneven, when you reached to collect a fallen eyelash from his cheek, long and dark as you held out your finger for him to see, only for him to sweep it away. You hum lightly at his reaction, laying a hand to rib his back with a gentle press up against your own skin, perhaps the softest drizzle of sweetness. He completely melts into you, his little face curling into your neck while his arms swathe around.

You pat his butt soothingly, lovingly; the soft crackle of his diaper following the muted coos he was giving you before he was letting go.

Assorted linen and cloth had been scattered, each one a texture of its own as those baby feet toddled over them, leaving crinkles in the fabric with every step. He screeches and points to the beds of white clovers, short puffballs that piqued your little garden gnome as he bends near the edge of some short, thick frills with a small splay of fingers dipping and grabbing through minted blades of grass, picking a posy of them until he pulls just enough. You could hear a soft ‘oof’ with the tug, his little dramatics all the more silly as most slip out of his hand while he waddle-runs back over to you.

When he came closer, he was slower, clutching something in his hand when he leaped, uncurling his fingers.

“B, B.”

In his palm was something silky and light, creamy belled petals unfurling with some thin grass halms, being ever so delicate as he placed the mix on the apex of your belly.

“Baby,” you repeat with a breathless giggle, instantly endeared.

Softly, he eased the entirety of his palm down, just to the right of your belly button that was still an innie, so small as he gives gentle pats most tenderly, being inquisitive and loving so sweetly on his mama. Your eyes close with the potency of your smile, feeling the lightness of touch on all sides of you.

“Uh-oh,” he babbles, causing your eyes to peel back open to see him slowly bending over to grab the half-scrunched flowers that fell, placing them back over your belly. “Here ma—ma.”

“Thank you, bubs,” you croon, tapping the pad of your forefinger to your puckered lips, making him shuffle to your side with delicate hands cuffing the surface of your arm for leverage while he gave you some of those open-mouth baby sugars you loved oh so much.

From his impeccable vision, Joe catches an eyeful of you through the bay windows, a cloying sight of that button nose rubbing to yours in an eskimo kiss with tippy-toes to reach. He can spot the moment your heart flutters, see the tension of the morning slip away just slightly, so simple yet strong. You murmur something to Jett too quietly to hear when he decides to stop acting like such a stalker and step through the sliding doors, a yawning in his chest as you rouse from your dozing.

It’s your softness that gives Joe a warm dip in his throat when he cuts over the grass to find you in your own little world, seeing the path of clumps of old-fashioned flowers and then your bikini bump that was more familiar than almost anything he knows. He was so smitten with it, a little more rigid than usual, a certain roundness in shape that released a blissful sigh from his lips; you just looked vivacious but in an adorable way. You could hear the fruitiness in it, taking a look beyond your shoulder to see your husband walking over in just a pair of shorts and carrying a small picnic basket in hand.

“What’re my two babe’s up to?” Joe asks pensively as he approaches, taking a spot on one of the sheets next to you.

“We were just playing,” you say, so fond and warm, enough that he can’t believe how cute you are.

Almost instantly, Jett wiggles and leans over the basket, his baby fingers prying through the woven wicker, and then to top the lids before Joe pushes him away jokingly.

"Not yet, J," he said, a little husk in his tone.

Jett stumbles back suddenly, and Joe’s surprised by how quickly he starts to cry, reaching out for you with insistent grabbing hands as he looks for shelter.

“O-Ohh, it’s okay, lovey,” you coax, tucking him into your chest and rubbing his back lullingly while lifting one brow at Joe. “He’s just curious, babe.”

At times, Joe could be such a softy, falling to instant baby love but others, his cautious side would swindle it all, finding his attention stolen by his small copy who mumbles incoherently against you, all while coveting your hand. Joe can only see the top of his head—the few blonde ringlets that lengthen and coil back each time you comb through them, and he doesn’t know what to do but listen as you whisper sweet nothings.

Jett buries himself between your chest and shoulder, and you can feel the little rubs of his face to your skin as you sway him, your quiet humming now a melody of sweet sound. “Why don’t you go find daddy a flower, hm?” You say, peppering kisses treacly to his cheek. 

You felt him tuck his nose under your chin, refusing to leave any ounce of you that made it an insurmountable act. Joe makes a huffy little sound at your efforts, frowning almost with a smile like he knows you’re trying to make him feel better as your hands close around that small waist and lift. “Please, bubs?”

Rainbow petals sit at his feet, some fluffed while others fold, staining pigment to his socks as those baby toes wiggle in cotton. He lifted his head upon the buttery feel, and they got caught in a flurry, waving high and low, which had him snapping away from your grip and running after each cluster. His little babbles were sweet as he bent beside an exotic bed of daisies, dipping a tiny hand inside and whizzing out of the nest with just one. Two fingers twirl the stem as he holds it out in front, crossing over both cloth and linen with surprising speed and accuracy to reach Joe, barrelling for his knees. He grins as Jett wraps himself around them, the flower slightly bent and cutely offered to him.

“Thanks, J,” he laughs full of breath, hugging him back with a large palm and soft thumb patting against the twill cotton of his dungarees.

“Tanks!” Jett’s voice is small, high-pitched, and clumsy but sweet, so high with affection as he smushes his face into the crease of Joe’s knee.

It almost puts you in a craze how Joe leans on his elbow, fingertips twirling the short stem of his flower while those lips and nose press to him, Jett’s muffled babbles having you giggle in soft hums. 

“What’s so funny, bud?” Joe chuckles, his love for baby talk easier than imagined; all Jett wanted was affection...and to pull Joe’s leg hair apparently. “Ow!” He hissed, pushing away those clasped little fingers. “Don’t do that!”

Joe looked down at him, and the gravelly sound mixed with those precious giggles as Jett scurried back over the sheets, fortuitously falling before carrying on. He looks hot when he’s annoyed, brows pinched, eyes dark… and all yours. 

Toys, though few, were littered just outside the playpen, your sleepy stare peering over to find your little man digging down into the pit of colorful balls that had poured near the edge of the grass where his fuddlewuddle dragon was, so warm and fuzzy that he snuggled into the plush fibers. He pulls at the wings enthusiastically, and Joe can no longer bring himself to care at his earlier roughness when he looks the way that he does, all curious and entertained, giggling his contagious baby laugh. 

In little whispers, you could hear Joe mutter funny commentary at the same time a gentle warmth met your lower half, dipping your lashes to find your skin braceleted by those long, thick fingers laying tentatively to your bump. To him, it feels almost too delicate and small-big; he was so affected by it this time, the small mound of a thing attached to you that his blue eyes glittered with faint lines drawing to the corners.

“You’re warm, mamas.” He circles your roundness cautiously and blooms at how full you’ve become so early on. “Did you reapply?”

Joe’s care for you seemed so special and intimate with how protective he became all over again. You shake your head. “Can you help me?” You asked, already feeling his hand lift and release the warmth it created.

Fishing through the basket, he dollops some sun lotion and rubs between his hands with a soft heat. He reaches out tentatively and carefully—he knows the fragility of you and your not liking to be touched, only if it was him. He starts slowly, leaving generous strokes along the small swell of your tummy, and he feels dizzy when you perk up to him, feeling his fingers splay and fold up again, all in soothing motions. You rest against the slightest bit of him, and your lashes lift all doe-like, the creases of his fingers piling up with white before it disperses into a thin layer over you, leaving your skin glazed.

Holding your breath, you sense the tenuous vibrations from the heat of each gentle palm, the scratch of a wedding band. Like this, he can see the pillows of your lips and the darling shape of your nose. He knows a kiss would go perfectly to either if only he turned you ever so slightly.

The fragile and busy motion of this keeps you when his fingertips brush low for a long moment, a touch so lax and then, with care. “I’ve always loved these.”

His words are warm as he plants a kiss, long and with intent over the swell of your breast that peeked out from your bikini as he soothed over a new one; you didn’t even notice your slight weight gain, yet the pink stretch marks fading in and out beneath his thumb stuck out just underneath the lightweight of your belly; physical touches that are full of love.

He has the most peculiar curl twined over his forehead, where most are straight and flat, this one falls a little long, a true match to Jett’s who’s now grabbing at the basket again. Joe turns, and it’s even more in view, a half ring falling forward.

“Hungy.” Those tiny fingers cuff the wicker again, tipping the basket just beneath his button nose when Joe suddenly pulls it back upright with a low groan.

“I can already tell you’re trouble,” he says glowingly.

Jett gave a small pout, plopping down on the sheets with just enough roughness to garner a chuckle. 

“He likes sugar,” you shrug with a smile like you know he’s thinking the same thing—sugared little sweets were such a delicacy with him, even you. 

The soft whimpers continued until Joe finally caved to that glossy bottom lip, so pink and plump with a noticeable quiver.

“Alright, alright, I’ll getch you something.” 

Opening the lids and playing waiter, Joe unpacked the picnic basket, spreading delicious goodies across the cloth; triangle-cut turkey sandwiches in little containers, mini cheese alongside crackers, and cotton candy grapes; all your sweet cravings. Your heart flipped over in your chest as if you and Jett were the most special little things.

“Joe…”

“Just a little somethin'”, he said, his voice dripping with a soft scratch. “For you and babe.”

Your cheeks warm, having you shy away when that palm returns to your belly, protective and unmoving.

“What about J?” You mumble a tad uneasy; your little man must be rubbing off on you.

“He gets—”

“Juice,” you finish, already seeing him pull out the small box; very berry, his favorite.

He raises a brow but doesn’t look at you as he pokes the straw into the opening, watching a little splash back up to the surface.

“C’mere buddy, you thirsty?"

Joe scoots down the assorted cloth, bunching a few beneath him as he tilts his head towards his shoulder just slightly and plants an elbow to the ground, the corners of the juice box held in tenuous fingertips.

“Tir-sty,” Jett says with little pauses as he crawls over, his baby hands taking the juice box greedily. He holds it with two hands and puckered lips, staring so attentively at you with slow gulps as if he can notice that you love the cute sound.

"Anything you want babe?” Joe asked, thumbing Jett’s thigh lightly while he continued sipping on his juice. He thinks some strawberries and cream cheese dip, water crackers and brie.

Your lashes flutter slowly. “Goldfish."

He was already reaching in the basket, hoping you’d say something a little more…filling, when he glanced at you confused. "That’s it?"

You shrug when Jett starts to whimper about something, and you reach out to hold his hand, seeing the juice box lay flat, empty. "He loves goldfish. Don’t you, Jett?”

“Fissy,” he says buoyantly.

Joe smiles as he pulls out a small deli container, opening it up before he sets it down in front of you, already filled with rainbow goldfish. His bravado makes you giggle, and your inner child has him feeling something crawl up his throat and has no idea what it is, seeing you delve into your craving with the intention of avoiding the purple ones, the same as you did when you two met.

Joe picks an orange one out and offers it to Jett, who takes it slowly despite his previous rapid hunger. It’s a small thing and still softens every feature; his bottom lip juts out a touch, and his nostrils flare with the opening of his mouth.

“He’s so cute like that,” you admit in a smaller voice, taking two yellows into your mouth.

“Like what?” Joe chuckles, blindly feeding him another as his gaze locks with yours.

You’re laughing when you say, “I don’t know,” seeing Jett fist his tiny hand into the container and then put it up to his lips, tasting it with a big crumby bite. “All messy and silly.”

He has bright blue eyes, dirt on his face, and crumbs piled in his dungarees. At that moment, you think he might be the most precious thing you’ve ever seen, and you’re just orbiting around someone this adorable and falling in love—staying in love.

For nearly the next hour, that’s all it was, the three of you laying in your own space covered with broken petals, both soft and creased into little folds. The sky was blue as a cornflower and flecked with angel-white clouds. Your arms encased Joe, threading your fingers through his longer hair, wanting to be as close as humanly possible to the person you loved so much. He was with you too, leaning up on an elbow with his palm held behind your back, with the other switching between your bump and his triangle-cut sandwich.

Figuring Jett must be hungry, you tilt the basket, finding a case of his special strawberry yogurt, taking notice of Joe's earlier insistence to not give it to him at breakfast this morning so you could do it now. He took care to include your favorite meal to have with him, more so watching you encourage him over his sandwich. It’s quiet and peaceful here in a way nowhere else in his life has ever been besides quiet Sunday mornings with you and his little man cooped up in bed. There’s only the sound of a little breeze and your happy, patient voice.

“Open up bubs.” You spoon generous dollops of honey into his yogurt and swirl.

And really, there’s a sweeter method to it. The way you scoop up yogurt into his baby spoon, scraping what’s underneath on the side until you’re sure it won’t drip, and push it into Jett’s mouth endearingly. You lift the handle of the spoon so yogurt doesn’t dribble out of his mouth and even when it does you scrape the lip gently against his chin to catch it.

“Ehh..beh”

“Uh-uh, mama hold it,” you said as those incessant grabbing hands reached out.

To your benefit, he sat back patiently, flailing his baby arms just a bit with his mouth already popping open again. Joe thinks it’s beautiful, the way you sparkle when doing the things you love.

By noontime’s hour, Jett was soundly comfortable on Joe’s leg, head tipped against his chest with his eyes drawn to that large hand, tracing its leading loveline. It was hard to feel jealous when those two looked like that, when it’s hard to tell them apart because they’re the same soul split in two. They were easily that way, Joe grinning and forming a fist as Jett did the same, a small one knocking into Joe’s big one, as if they had these twin powers.

Joe’s eyes glittered as his head rolled towards you. "There’s cookies," he whispers in a soft scratch, trying to avoid evoking a reaction from Jett.

“Coo-kie…?” That soft, sweet voice suddenly peeled your eyes open, half-hooded from the gauzy mist of yellow but enough to catch the little pout to those baby lips.

"Subtle," you chuckle, unfortunately, his secret talk was never so secret.

You can hear Jett humming in random riffs, those little toes wiggling. 

“Mama?” he says breezily.

“Hmm, baby?” You asked, leaning to his eye level, those fluffy socks in hand.

“Tweet?"

You swoon immediately, sincerely, at the small improvements in his speech, though they’re natural. He was the greatest little listener and so patient with you and Joe, but hearing him voice his own thoughts is something unconventionally sweet.

All you can do is beam at him as you say, “Yeah, bubs, daddy brought some treats.”

He clapped his hands excitedly, and you realize these responses give you a little high like he was some kind of opium for you even when all you were doing was encouraging his curiosity. 

It gave Joe a little high too, swinging an arm over Jett for the basket which has him hastily propping up to balance atop his forearm. He watches intently as Joe retrieves the tin, peeling back the aluminum lid and revealing cups full of an assortment of butter cookies. 

Did he really dump the entire thing in the basket…?

Without looking at you, Joe takes one and passes it over before instantly hearing the soft crunch of your first bite, consciously shaking his head as he holds one the same.

“Want one J?” He asks, still chewing.

Big hands over his small ones, Joe snaps a cookie before he brings the bigger half to his mouth with a little crunch. Almost instantly, his arms flail in delight, and both of you are trying not to laugh at how adorable he is, a wrinkled nose and light vanilla chalk collecting at his chin.

“Yummy, huh?” Joe asked, a chuckle finally leaping out from his chest.

You gaze up at Joe from your slightly lower position. Your eyes look damn pretty, almost liquid candy when he offers the tray to you. “I thought you didn’t like plain cookies?” You asked, dipping your fingers in for the pretzeled one.

Joe swallows, and then, in a rough voice, he says, “I’ve never hated them, I only get them because I know they’re your favorite.”

Those words roll through you slowly, warming all parts of you as you stare at him silently, not because you’re speechless but because it’s probably the sweetest thing he has ever said to you. Joe reaches a handout, wiping away a sweaty strand of hair stuck to your cheek, and you’re suddenly giddy, arm heavy on his thigh while you indulge.

He watches you mistreat his knee as you chew, your fingers pulling distractedly at the little hairs the way Jett did, only your touch was more gentle, your fingerprints a soft brush over his kneecap.

And speaking of your little munchkin, Jett makes happy noises beside him. A terrible mess of vanilla powder muttered over his cheeks, fingerprints sticky over the sheets as he’s buried in crumbs, scrunching his nose.

“Could you make any more of a mess?” Joe chuckles. The speech is lost in his eyes; he squeals something cheerful and splays his hand out for another cookie.

“Jett,” you giggle lightly, carding ringlets away from his face so you can see him properly. “Don’t get too messy.”

White powder crowds his dungarees, but for some reason, your heart goes crazy for it because of how expectant, small, and cute he is; Joe can almost see the heat of love flush off of your cheeks, the press of your lips so endearing. Nearly five end up fully eaten when Joe forces the tin closed before those sticky hands can find their way back in, dipping into the basket to grab an almost empty pack of wet wipes in replacement. He moves closer to Jett who finds his way further off the assorted fabric with his little happy bounces, talking instantly in hopes of distracting him.

"I went to workout this morning,” he begins, pulling a wet wipe from the pack and taking Jett’s wrist into his hand, gently wiping to convince him that this is all affection. “Put on my music.”

He whimpers in the softest sounds but keeps a toothy smile in place as Joe works his thumb into Jett’s palm, tickling in circles. You weren’t quite sure where he was going with this, but you played along anyway.

“And you know what song came on?" Jett waits, looking with wide eyes like he is on the verge of finding out a secret.

Joe takes a deep breath. "Bay…by Shark!"

His little mouth opens and takes the chance to wipe the corners with the wet wipe and then her chin. “B, B, shawk!”

Jett climbs back into Joe’s lap out of excitement, black crumbs falling in a trail. It’s a golden sound, one a little more sweet than the rest.

You snort beside him. Your laughter enough to make him smile but not enough to leave his little man.

Jett’s looking up at him, practically wiggling in his seat and saying “du, du, du, du, du” on repeat. He’s sillily lovely. Just like his daddy.

Joe beams at him and drops his damp hands, now clean and flailing. It gives the perfect time to enjoy some of the treats yourselves, dipping your fingers in any container they could find, sometimes miraculously meeting his.

You wanted it to last forever, but nothing like that ever could with your little rebel around…

Jett gave an unnecessarily loud screech, earning your full attention to see a monarch butterfly floating and balancing down to perch upon the edge of a bowl; after a moment, the little thing flew across the surface of the sheets, skimming, before disappearing once more into the unfurling flowers.

“Bu, bu,” Jett says, pointing out.

“Your bubba’s inside, J,” you heard, turning to find Joe finishing his pickle spear and wiping the juice on the linen.

Your awe may have taken over, but not enough to not think Joe was being dumb, but still, you sit sure and sweet in front of him. “You’re such a ditz Burrow."

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fanfic #dad joe #dashjenners fic

[yume-yuurei]

Sugar overdose

Trey Clover × reader

Synopsis: There's this one student in NRC... he always seems to look out for you, expressing his care and making your forced stay in Twisted Wonderland more bearable. Though there are some things about him that you stay oblivious to...

TW for: mild yandere, drugging/food poisoning (?) (basically unconscious potion consumption), stalking (if you can call it that), overall creepy-ish behavior. If you're uncomfortable with any of aforementioned topics, do not proceed, please. :з

(the whole thing might seem rushed or unfinished, forgive me if so, I'm still gaining experience in writing. ^^")

He's always been there.

Since when you first got dropped into this world, Clover has always been somewhere in sight. It was hard to stop your gaze at just one thing when there were so many wonders you'd never seen before, so you never paid him much mind, not until the Heartslabyul incident, at least. Before you could only catch a glimpse of him in the cafeteria or exchange short greetings in the halls, but the first overblot gave him a push to change the matters. First he started calling out to you when seeing you in crowd, then he worked up some courage to ask for greeting hugs (or at least handshakes when you weren't in the mood), and at some point decided to strike up a conversation: one, two, five, to the point where you'll find him approaching you almost every day, helping out with chores, carrying groceries, sharing notes and helping with homework, staying over for night, and-

When did he manage to get so close?

Windows in NRC's alchemy lab expose one's eyes to unique views; usually it's already way past noon when classes end, enough so the sun starts setting by that time, painting the vast free skies in deep shades of pink and yellow. Wisps of colorful cotton clouds frame the canvas, giving finishing touches to the majestic evening painting. And the centre piece of the gallery of nature - the biggest wonder, an anomaly of this world, not unlike a shy flower on a fragile stem blooming among concrete plates or snowdrifts, - the prefect. Rays of dying light wrap around their figure perfectly. They come here every day, doing small chores for professors with the company of the infamous duo of freshmen-troublemakers. Still, even the boys' robust nature and somewhat graceless behavior cannot spoil the picturesque scene.

He lays his books out on a table closest to windows, having already claimed the space for himself ever since he joined the Science club. At first it was all about convenience: pretty views on the school gardens give him inspiration for new recipes, wide tables allow to keep his space as neat as possible and prevent any hazards (no more spilled flasks or lost papers - much easier to work now), fresh air when the room gets suffocating or his cooking experiments go wrong.

Now it opens another, a little less innocent in nature, opportunity for the young man - to keep a close eye on the cute magicless student. Actually, when you think about it, the fact is not perverse. Is it really wrong of him, a true older brother at heart, to protect those who are weaker than him in many senses of the word? If anything, he's only doing them a favor - prefect always expressed their appreciation of his help whenever they had gotten in a difficult situation with teachers or delinquents, so surely they would've found the notion to be sweet.

Sweet is the first word that comes to mind when you talk to Trey. It's not even only about his personality (the way the man treats his dormmates alone is enough of a proof; putting others' health and wants before his own, prioritizing their happiness, going out of his way to keep things peaceful). Smell of sugar and vanilla follows him everywhere: in classes, in hallways, in his room. You can smell sugar and caramel on his uniform every time Trey comes up to you for a 'good morning' hug. It's hard to resist the temptation to press closer, if only to have more - to get drunk on the overwhelming aroma and warmth.

He'd be lying if he said the prefect's preference for good perfume went over his head. Trey heard them compliment Schoenheit and Hunt for their cologne and seen how they pull away in mock disgust when Ace gets touchy after a particularly long basketball practice. Perceptive to smell. That's where his main hobby comes in handy: when one spends a great part of their day in the kitchen, they're bound to carry out some of its homey atmosphere with hints of cinnamon.

"Good morning! Don't forget to pack your gym uniform, your class has Flying lesson today."

Isn't that nice of him to leave you little notes and reminders? His attentiveness never fails to make you swoon.

"Have you eaten yet? Remember to heat up some lunch for yourself."

"I hope you're not staying up late again? Go to bed before I come over and make sure you do personally. >:("

"Your outfit today was really cute... I mean, you sure are good at styling clothes! Just wanted to make a compliment, don't take it wrong. :)"

Though sometimes his comments sound too... personal. Have you ever actually told him of your schedule? How does he know about your preference? Even Ace and Deuce, who you spend most of your time with, don't know and don't seem to remember that much. 

Prefect favors others way more than they should. Does the spoiled lion prince deserve being pampered by them? Do the troublesome freshmen not annoy them? How can they parade around, gathering crowds around themselves, stealing hearts of each and every student they encounter, and still treat him with such disregard? "Trey's such a mom friend" this and "I wish I had an older brother like him!" that.

I don't feel the same for you.

Why wouldn't you see how I slowly burn for you?

Even now, the dessert he left at your kitchen counter in Ramshackle is lacking flaws. Even layers of frosting, small edible decorations made out of chocolate - it's an intricate work, a miniature piece of art beloved by its creator, with so much time spent over it. And all for you?

Under the plate hosting the sweet treat is a piece of paper. You carefully slip the note from under the plate and read it, eyes crinkling at the corners at the thought of somebody putting so much effort to make you happy.

"I noticed you've been gloomy all day; please, enjoy this little treat. It's a new recipe of mine, so I hope you'll enjoy this."

There was no need to sign the note - identity of the sender was as clear as day. With a fond light and eyes and a prep in step, you move to set a kettle on the stove to prepare some tea - a chamomile blend gifted to you by Jade (he did sound proud of his blends). Not able to resist temptation, you find a fork and lift a portion of the dessert to your lips, taking in its enchanting smell. Cream melts on your tongue, texture contrasting the bright filling and bringing out a new kind of flavor. Tea long abandoned, you take another bite to savor it, sighing in content.

He truly was a master of his art, especially if his work managed to bring your guard down with little to no effort. It was all too late when you noticed how the cold filling tickled your throat, or how your fingers grew colder with each second passed. Staying steady on two feet has never been so hard before, as white noise overwhelmed your senses, disorienting, separating from reality. Seconds flash by in static pictures, and by the time he approached you from behind, there was nothing to do to hold onto consciousness.

There they are now, safe in his arms, not turning or running away anymore. Cradled close to a warm chest, burning with deepest of earthy desires, full of selfish wanting and a new blossom of hope, their heart would soon answer his calling. For a magicless human is no match to the power of true love.

He will always hold you near.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #yandere twst #yandere #i hope the tagging is okay? still unsure how to do this #please let me know if i should add something! #really felt like writing something yandere-ish...

[elvisalltheway101]

•••••••My Sweet Remedy••••••

Summary: It’s the second part of my piece, Crimson & Clover. Weeks after his little dirty moment, he’s found with the same ache again. With you by his side, he cautiously tries to relieve it himself. Only for you to wake up, and help him out.

Author’s note: Since everybody seemed to like it, and especially @60svintage who motivated and helped me out with this! So mwah and also big thank you to her. This is so random, but this has literaly been sitting in my drafts since last year. And I’ve got proof:

Author wont shut up just yet: so like literally guys…I’m sorry 😭. I also noted that he was a leg and ass man, SO I WENT ALL OUT WITH THIS. I’ve also haven’t really seen like doing stuff with thighs or legs sexually around tumblr so here we are. It’s definitely not gonna be as popular or good as the first version, but when I say I’m gon write a second part. I’m gon write it. You guys also gon be really surprised but I was listening to this while writing this 😭👀

But uhhh anyway, let’s enjoy this feast. Shall we?

warnings: masturbating, reader watches elvis a widdle bit, thigh fucking, thoughts about ass licking, spitting, rubbing on clit with cock tip…yippee kiyay folks. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Ever since that embarrassing night, where his parents and you had woken up from him jerking off too loudly, he hasn’t tried anything. But did he regret it? Not for a minute.

He turns his head as his hand continues to bob and pump his cock fast and raw. As his cock strains and hardens more and more as every second goes pass and the veiny hand that’s wrapped around his shaft, he can help the groans that push outta those lips.

His eyes flutter close to just imagine her delicious swell of an ass. He’s surprised at what his kind wanders off to. He’s always been a guy for ass but what he wishes his tongue to do startles the man a bit.

He thinks pressing his warm tongue onto that little untouched hole. The hole that’s covered and protected by them precious ass cheeks.

To just graze his tip against your clenched, pink little ass hole. Just once. And to cum on that pretty soft squishy belly of yours.

He whimpers softly, pressing two of his long fingers to shut his lips before making further noises. With only you and him in the house, he’s not too worried. But you were overly tired before you tucked into bed, so he doesn’t wanna wake you.

Yup, and that’s exactly what he did. Your body shifts slightly and groans groggily from sleep. Blinking your eyes a little bit, you gasp softly at the sight beside you.

Your eyes travel from his tanned feet, gliding up to see his blue and white striped pajama pants that’s halfway down his thick, firm and tense thighs. Your eyes widen when you see his hand working up and down his red and slightly pink cock, that has his arousal dribbling down his fist. Continuing your eyes up to see his shirt half unbuttoned from the bottom and revealing his sweaty damp and heaving lower belly. His happy trail that’s dark and a thin line from his itty bitty belly button to the pubic curls that surrounds his manhood and is where his wrist lays.

When Elvis finally stops his fist and huffs in frustration at the tiring handy work, he’s upset that he hasn’t cum yet. He can feel it bubbling up in the pit of that tan and decorated of dark locks belly of his, but it just ain’t doing it. He sighs in tiresome and leans his head back, gasping in shock as he sees the fluttering of your long lashes batting up to meet his blue eyes.

“Baby, w-what. H-how long have you been awake?” He furrows his eyebrows and wipes his sweaty palms on his chest and doesn’t bother to cover himself. You shrug and hum a soft yawn. “Just now…E, if you wanted to have fun tonight, how come you didn’t wake me?” You whisper and raise a brow. He shrugs and bites his lip, “I jus’ didn’t wanna. You were tired as it is.” He admits and sighs out.

You smile at his love and care, but you look back down at his throbbing manhood that wags pathetically. His tip grazes onto his heaving belly with every shallow breath he takes. “Well now I’m up and awake, c’mon now, let me help you relieve your ache. Like a good woman as I should.”

The moment you share smirks before you know it, his heavy length rests on your pubic mound. With your cute little white dress up to your perky breasts, he puckers his lips and tilts his chin down. You feel warm, glossy strings of his saliva run down your pussy lips. Dampening and wetting your inner thighs also to lubricant his near future thrusts.

With heavy pants and sighs, he takes a firm hold of his cock and presses gently to your sensitive nub. Tapping on it gently with a soft smirk at how your legs twitch slightly and your pussy pulses in his glistening spit.

Deciding to add onto the mess, he dribbled more spit of his touchy tip as he produces pre cum. Your intimate parts are a shiny mess. Pulling back his foreskin, he’s quick to slap your thighs together with his thick cock between.

His eyes roll to the back of his head at just the way his shaft sits so perfectly between your delicious thick thighs. He starts to thrust, hanging your calves to his shoulders.

He doesn’t leave you hanging of course, as he presses a small kiss to your ankle and then brings his lips to his finger and spits on it. Snaking his hand down to play and rub tight and fast circles on your clit. You body bounces up and down the matress with every thrust he makes. Soft whimpers leave your lips, until he can’t take it. Moving his hand from your clit to squeeze your thighs together and dig his nails into your soft skin. You watch as his tip peeks from between your sweet thighs, and chaff against your wiry, curly dark pubic hair.

One final hard thrust finishes him off, twitching uncontrollably as hot strings of his white cream coat your tummy. His eyes shut and he lets out a high-pitched moan, biting into your calf because the pleasure is just too much. But he loves it.

You forget about your own pleasure for now, watching him unravel at your body and touch.

Pulling back and glancing down at the glorious sight below him. Your belly has him on your skin, your legs bare and spread. He smirks a lazy one, and hums. Kneading the fat of your thigh with a pleasure sigh.

“My sweet sweet remedy, ain’t ya? Now, now, you know I won’t leave my baby hanging dry after that. Tsk, c’mon lemme treat ya.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I hope enjoyed! I ain’t tryna make another part with my 15+ requests and shits in my drafts but I could! Anyway, chow y’all 🤪🥰

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #elvisaaronpresley #spotify #elvis fanfic #enjoy! #elvis Presley smut #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfiction #70s Elvis #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader smut #elvis x reader smut

[chicken-fifi]

Stray Kids Reactions | Sharing a Bed With Their Crush

Pairing: SKZ Members x Reader

Requested by anon: If it's not a bother for you can you write BTS and stray kids reaction to sharing a bed with their crush?

A/n: i know i said this in the other post, but it's never ever a bother! please remember to reblog and comment!

Tunes: black clover

Bang Chan:

I honest see Chris getting nervous as heck

One thing about him that I feel is big regardless of his crush is that he will respect you and all of your boundaries

So he’s putting aside all of his nervousness and any awkwardness he feels 

All to make sure you’re fine with sharing the same bed

Because will happily sleep on the floor or couch if it means you are relaxed

But despite all offers he finds himself on one side of the bed

Sleeping comfortably as he listens to your deep breaths

Lee Know:

Something tells me Minho would be joking about the whole ordeal

But mainly to try and ease the mood and tension

It works

Somewhat

There’s a lot of nervous laughter and goofiness because of it

And it actually helps the two of you feel a bit better about sharing the bed

Although once you fall asleep he’s left being plagued with thoughts about how cute you look

Changbin:

Externally very chill about it

Internally Changbin is freaking out

He’s genuinely afraid of making a fool of himself

He doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you

Much less reveal his crush on you just yet

He can’t risk that under these circumstances

Hyunjin:

Such a shy man

Hyunjin is a blushing mess the entire time

He can’t say no to anything you say or offer

What you say goes in this situation

So when you tell him to shut up and just sleep in the bed with you

On one side that is

He doesn’t dare go against you

Han:

Also quite shy and jittery

I’m convinced Jisung’s cheeks have permanently turned pink

All he can do most of the time is nod when you suggest something

He won’t deny that he does like the idea of sharing a bed with you

But he also doesn’t want to at the same time

He’s afraid he might end up sleep confessing

What he doesn’t except is for you to be the one to confess

Felix:

A nervous wreck

But a respectful nervous wreck

Felix despite his head being a bit loose

Will not cross any boundaries that you have set up

He also won’t go against you so you don’t get upset with him

As much as he feels it would be the better option to probably sleep on the couch

You insist you both sleep in the same bed to avoid any discomfort

How can he refuse?

Seungmin:

Unusually silent

But Seungmin makes a point not to ignore you at any point

He’ll respond with very curt nods and very simple responses

He’s honestly afraid of slipping up somehow

He doesn’t want to make the already awkward situation any more awkward

So he’ll stay silent and just agree with you

Even if it means he doesn’t get much rest from sleeping so stiffly on the bed after you refuse to let him sleep on the floor

I.N:

Blushing, bashful mess

Jeongin really wants to pull of the confident and carefree persona

Mainly because he know you’ll feel guilty for him being uncomfortable

Even though you don’t know about his crush

He somehow does manage to sleep peacefully that night

And it may have to do with the fact that you both, at some point, ended up pressing against one another in a deep sleep

#kpop #kpop reactions #kpop masterlist #stray kids #stray kids masterlist #stray kids reactions #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n

[spicyclover]

Delilah | part three

Summary: “Hey there, Delilah                                                                                                         I know times are gettin' hard                                                                               But just believe me, girl                                                                                    Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar                                                           We'll have it good                                                                                                We'll have the life we knew we would                                                                  My word is good. “

Part One | Part Two | Part Three 

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! 

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

“Delilah, come on. Let’s go. We’re done shopping for today.” She turns to you, and the stranger raises his head. Your heart misses a beat. It’s not possible. What’s he doing there. The eyes of the unknown also open.

The world stops. Your breathing stops. You never thought for a second that this day would come so fast. You are stunned, frozen on the spot. You look at this man who was once a close acquaintance. You do not know what to say, and neither is he. His brain integrates information.

For a moment, when he saw this little girl at the corner of a booth, he thought he saw his son's face. It was only the blink of an eye for a moment, but she had this expression and figures so similar that it troubled him. Trouble because he knows very well that his son has no children. He needs to see her closely. He watched her from a distance for a few minutes before daring to approach her. And then their eyes met. The same as his son. It was almost a return in time. For a second, his five-year-old son was in front of him.

Delilah watched the man with big eyes before she started talking to him happily. She smiled with all her teeth when he showed interest in her finds in her pink basket. She made him a complete inventory of its contents before smiling again at the elderly man. Then your voice resounded, and the moment passed. Carlos Sainz Sr’s eyes rose towards your figure, and the surprise is read on his face. Never in his life has he thought of seeing you again. You exchange no words. The discomfort and uneasiness is heavy and pressing. You only want to escape as quickly as possible on the first train. You take your daughter’s little hand and move away from the square.

"¿Cómo te llamas, pequeña?" Ask Carlos Sainz Sr, pushing his voice through the crowd. What’s your name, little one?

"Delilah. Delilah Y/L/N." She answers proudly before turning to her mother.

You met your parents in the car. You want to run away. Far away. Isolated. He knows. That’s for sure. He’ll tell him. It will ruin everything you’ve built. You close the door violently, and your father starts without asking anything. You can feel their worried looks on you. Delilah, in her car seat, looks joyfully at the landscape. You are lost in your thoughts. Why haven’t you been more careful? You’ve managed to keep it a secret all this time. Questions scroll through your head like a groceries list. You feel your phone vibrating, and your heart misses a beat. You remain forbidden for a moment before taking the object and opening it. It’s a message from Paola; Cato chewed your shoelaces. A sigh of relief escapes your mouth, and you answer vaguely that it is nothing.

The rest of the day is quiet. You help in the gardens while Delilah plays in the small pools that your parents bought. You watch her from the corner of your eye. Her little polka-dot red swimsuit brings out her caramel complexion and dark eyes. She’s swimming, monopolizing your father’s concentration, trying to get the garden hose to work.

“¡Papi! Mírame a mí,” She screams, her head popping out of the water. “¡Papi!” Papi! Look at me!

“Sí, sí, es genial Delilah.” Your father responds vaguely by grumbling after the tip. “¡Esto es una mierda!” Yea, yea, it’s excellent, Delilah. It's crap.”

“¡Papi!”

You wipe the earth with your hands and go back to the front of the house to get a bag of potting soil. You’re focused and don’t notice the two people outside the portal waiting. You only raise your head as you hear the sound of a voice that is familiar to you. Your eyes cross their eyes. Carlos Sr and Reyes stand, a bottle of red wine and a basket in hand. You sigh and slowly approach.

"What are you doing here?" You ask.

"We want to talk to you, Hermosa." Answer Reyes nicely.

Reyes has always been there for you. She has always considered you her daughter. After all, you have spent many summers in their company.

"I have nothing to tell you."

"I think you do."

"It’s none of your business." You say turn heels.

"She looks like him like two drops of water. You’re not going to make me think she’s not his." Carlos says, pointing away in the backward where they could hear your daughter laughing.

"No, you’re right. I have nothing to make you believe. He’s not the father. Leave before I call the police."

You grab one of the bags of soil and head back to the back of the house.

"Y/n!" Call Carlos Sr. "He’s not perfect, but he has a right to know. Why you hid her from him?" The drop gets the vase full, and you flip, an angry expression on your face.

"Because you think he doesn’t know?" You exclaim. "You think I didn’t spend months trying to reach him. That I did not come crying in tears at his door, begging him to open it to me in the pouring rain. That the only thing he had to tell me was that he didn’t want it and that I had to get rid of it because I was not and would never be good enough for him. If that’s what you believe, you’re wrong. Now get out of here and don’t come back." You say, the tears running down your cheeks. Reyes' eyes fill with tears, and Carlos Sr can’t believe what you say. How can he? His son is perfect...

You turn around for good and return to the back of the house. Your mother notices your puffy, reddened eyes with tears but makes no comment. She knows you don’t want to talk about it. You go back to tapping the earth to flip it. The shovel blows into the ground slowly, calming you down and lowering your pressure. No one suspects they came to see you. The rest of the afternoon and evening is spent in a peaceful atmosphere. You can even forget about them when you bathe Delilah. She always makes you laugh with the foam on her head. That’s when you’re glad she’s in your life, despite everything that’s happened. You are grateful that she is there daily and that you share your life with her. Seeing her grow up hurts you but, at the same time, fills you with joy.

Delilah is sleeping peacefully beside you. You’ve been watching the ceiling for three hours now, unable to sleep. You sigh one more time before you give up and get up. You go up to the window and sit there. The night is clear. You can see some stars. Somethings, back in Fuengirola, you got up to the roof and lay under the stars. You often did this during the summers when Delilah was much younger. Hearing the city and the agitation of the night always helps her calm down from her disturbed dreams. You sometimes think; it makes her feel less alone. Delilah dreams. You hear her whisper incomprehensible phrases in her sleep. She whispers your name. She has always had a troubled sleep. She talks like he does it too. 

It was a cool autumn night, and you were all in a cottage by a lake. Your two families are gone for the week, and you share your bed with Blanca and Ana. You’re lying next to her in the queen bed while Carlos sleeps on an air mattress on the floor. You can’t sleep. You argued before you left with your boyfriend then, and you replay the scene in your head. He is angry because you refuse to have advanced relations with him. You’re only sixteen, after all. You don’t feel ready, but you can’t help to feel pressured by him. It makes you angry and a feeling you can't quite describe yet. You turn your head and look at Carlos. He sleeps peacefully next to you. His mouth is ajar. Her lips are so soft. You often imagine how they would feel on yours. Your body turns, and you watch her sleep. You hear him whispering in his sleep, little words or little sentences. You are not sure. You come closer to try to understand, but it’s just gibberish.

Your hand comes out of the warm duvet, and you stroke the outline of his nose with your fingertips. He shudders, but he doesn’t wake up. Your finger continues its journey and arrives at the corner of his lips. You hesitate momentarily before passing your hand on it when you feel Carlos move. His body jiggles, and his head comes to find your finger. You find yourself in the middle of his lips, and unconsciously, he gently kisses your index. You blush strongly, and you withdraw your hand quickly. You are warm, and this heat spreads throughout your body. You feel your crotch become sweaty and turn to the other side. Ashamed of what just happened without his knowledge. You close your eyes, and you only see his lips kissing your finger. You spend the rest of the night awake with that strange heat between your legs.

The following day, when the sun is high, you sleep deeply. The others have already left the room for a long time. The shutters are pulled. A slight breeze cools the room. In your sleep, you are out of the duvet and intertwined in it. Your shorts are raised at the corner of your buttocks, and your t-shirt covers very little skin. You are sure your stomach and your head are facing the window. You are deeply asleep, and you do not hear the agitation downstairs.

"Carlos, ve a por Y/n para almorzar. Sé que estamos de vacaciones, pero no estamos aquí solo para dormir.” Says Reyes, pointing the stairs at his son. "Carlos, go get Y/n for lunch. I know we’re on vacation, but we’re not here to just sleep." 

He gets up from the couch, and heads against the heart goes the room. He always thought of you as his sister, but recently, he has emotions that he does not understand when he sees you. His heart capsizes, and every time you laugh, his body warms up with a strange warmth. When you gave him your ocean eyes.  He has never experienced this with anyone. He enters the room and sees you. Lying down. In this innocent position. His body reacts, and his cheeks warm up. Your breathing is slow. You are asleep. He sees through the sheets and your t-shirt the tip of your breast. "She is beautiful." He thinks while trying to drive away these impure thoughts towards you. He approaches you. He can’t help but run his fingers over the bare skin of your legs. "So soft, so warm." It gradually rises, tracing the contour of your body. It is warm and feels the thrill you run under its hand. He smiles before continuing his way. He touches the outline of your buttocks before drawing that of your spine. He looks at your face, and his eyes stop on your lips. He wants to kiss you. He wants to capture them from his own. To hear you say his name. He leans over to you, letting his instincts speak.

Suddenly, steps resound from the staircase, and he abruptly departs. By the way, he accidentally hangs a strand of your hair and pulls it out of your bed, falling down the bed. You scream in pain as you open your eyes frantically. You look around, and Carlos' two sisters enter the room while Carlos struggles to get up, tangling in the duvet.

At this memory, a blank smile appears on your face. You raise your head and see the cute face of your daughter, who struggles to open her eyes.

"Mama," she whispers, still asleep.

"Go back to sleep, baby. It’s not morning yet," you get up from your seat and return to bed. She hugs you and places her head on your chest. Her thumb in her mouth and her cuddly toy in the other. She falls back to your side. Your eyelids are heavy, and you drift towards the arms of Morpheus in your turn. Maybe you can consider seeing them. They probably love to meet Delilah. She would like them too. In those thoughts, you really drift away. 

______________________________________________________________________

Let me know if you are still interested in this story :) I have a few interesting ideas.  

TAG LIST (All Stories) : darkmalice00 karmabyfernando

TAG LIST (This story): karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg soosheee mypage-myfandoms trouble-sistar aileeincomplexity sweetwerewolfqueen darkmalice00 gaslysainz kimikimki fandomsfeminismandme aundercover dreams-with-thoughts lazypinkpig oscarpastryyyyy darkomiomi avengersheart styles-sunflower formula1mount

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff

[giggly-squiggily]

Voice Check (Black Clover)

Heyo heyo how are y'all today? This is a gift for the lovely @intheticklecloset! I've had a serious craving for some good ol' Yuno Asta antics and this is the result! :D

This takes place during episode 131, so possible spoilers below the cut! (Nothing major- the episode was a filler but also freaking hilarious- y'all check it out kjarjajrjke)

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@duckymcdoorknob @rachi-roo @imjusthere07

Summary: Yuno and Asta take a break during the day. One thing leads to another and soon Yuno is discovering a hilarious quirk about his short best friend.

“Nehehe- stohohp! Asta!” Yuno ducked down with a scrunch, giggling when his friend pressed tickly fingers into his neck. “Cut that out!”

“Heh, you haven’t changed at all!” Asta laughed, ruffling the taller boy’s hair before flopping down in the grass beside them. It was after their assistant teaching gigs; the kids were with Sister Lily at the moment, giving the boys a small break. “Father Orsi used to do that to you all the time when we were kids. You’d be close to tears only to start giggling like crazy!”

“I don’t recall that.” Yuno averted his gaze, his ears tinted red.

“You absolutely did!” Asta grinned, stretching out his arms before tucking them behind his head. “You loved it too.”

“I did not.”

“Did too!”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Do you want me to end you?” Yuno tried to glare, wavering when Asta grinned at him. “Ugh, you’re as annoying as you are short.”

“Heh, yeah- NOW WAIT A MINUTE!” Asta sat up with a huff, earning a small grin from the other. “You jerk- take that back!”

“Or what?” Yuno raised a brow, feeling pretty smug. “What are you going to do?”

There was a stalemate- the two staring each other down with twitching fingers and shifty gazes. A leaf blew by and landed oh so gently…

“Gotcha-whoa!” Asta had leaped forward just as a gust of wind smacked him in the gut, sending him flying backwards. His back hit the ground with barely any pain- Yuno must have used his wind to protect him. What a great guy!

Then said mage was on him, squeezing the ever living daylights out his sides and sending ticklish waves up and across his nervous system. Not a great guy, not a great GUY-

“Yuhuhuhuhuhuhuhno! Ahehahahahhahaha, yohohohohou jeheheheheheerk!” Asta cried, kicking his feet against the grass as his friend began tickling. “Thahahhat whahhahas mihihihihihi mohohohoohohove!”

“Was it now? Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all! If anything- he sounded unjustly smug, wearing that damn sly grin as he carried on dancing his fingers across Asta’s ribs. “Should have moved faster, Shortsa.” “Ahehahhahahha! Yuuhuhuhno! Yuuhuhuhno I’m gohohohohonna-NYEHEHAHHA! A cackle ripped out of the shorter mage’s throat when Yuno pressed his thumbs into each side of his belly. “Oohoohooh yoohohoohohu’re boohoohohohold!”

“Bad spot?” A thought crossed his mind then. What would happen if he…

“Aww, what’s wrong? Does it tickle too much, whittle Asta?” He cooed, using the same voice he used when he played house with the kids. He didn’t know why- he had the sudden urge to try it and see what would happen. “Does somebody have a ticklish tummy?”

“AHEHAHAHA!” Asta’s eyes widened and his face flushed a bright shade of pink- a color he never thought he’d see on the other boy. His laughter boomed as the hands going to catch Yuno’s hands quickly retreated, crossing over his face as he looked away with a whine. “Doohoohohon’t aheahhahahaha! Yuuhuhuhnoohohooohoho!”

Yuno blinked, stunned. Did Asta…?

Then it all became clear.

“No way…!” Yuno was grinning now, utterly delighted at the reaction.

“Noohohoohohoho! Nohohoohoho, tahhahaht was a fluhuhuhuke! A flu-UHUUHUHUKE!” Asta all but squealed when Yuno pressed into his lower ribs, leaning in reeeeal close as he did so. When he was barely above Asta’s ear, he released his ultimate spell.

“What’s the matter? Can whittle Asta not handle some tickles on his whittle ribs? Hmm? You can cut down magic with your anti-magic, but you can’t block out how ticklish you are, can you? I should start calling you pinksta for now on with how much you’re blushing~”

Asta couldn’t even make words- only noises through hysterical laughter as he shoved and slapped at Yuno’s shoulders, feet kicking up a storm. “EHAHAHHHAHHAHAHHA!”

“What’s wrong? Got nothing to say now?” Yuno teased, feeling on top of the world. So many times Asta had him in this exact position, flustered and giggly and unable to do more than curl up and take it. To be able to put Asta in a similar state- and with the voice he used to play house with- it was amazing!

Alas, all great things must come to an end. Seeing Asta starting to cough, he immediately retracted his hands, falling back until he was sitting beside him in the cool grass. “Heh, okay. We’re done.”

The smaller mage raised a thumbs up, far too tired to properly respond. Residue giggles and gasps escaped his lips, and tears of mirth gathered in his eyes, threatening to spill. His face- once tomato red- was slowly fading to a more reasonable peach. For a moment, Yuno felt a little bad. Did he go too far?

“Ahehahaha! Hehehhee…lohohohok at you- wehenent from beheeing tihihickled to doohohing the tihihickling!” Asta grinned, sitting up some. “Yohohou’re stiihihll more tihihckclish though!”

Nevermind.

“Shush.” Laughing himself, Yuno fell back into the grass beside him, watching the clouds roll by with his best friend. “Sister Lily’s gonna come get us soon.”

“Yeah.” Asta nodded, but made no moves to get up.

“She’ll probably lecture us for running off like she did when we were kids.”

“Then she’ll tell us if we aren’t home when she gets there we get no potatoes.”

“Heh. She never did mean it. There were always extra.”

Asta laughed, happy. For once in a long time, he felt like he did before the Magic Knights. Yuno wasn’t his rival, or someone competing with him for the title of Wizard king, but just him. Just- Yuno. “I miss this.”

“Hm.” Yuno nodded, no words needed. Instead, he bumped his knuckles into Asta’s, a looser version of their go-to sign off. They spent the rest of their break staring up at the clouds until Sister Lily came around and gave her usual warning, sending them flying down the hill like kids once more.

Asta wouldn't trade it for the world.

Thanks for reading!

#Black Clover #tickle #tickle fic #yuno #asta #platonic #black clover anime spoilers #fluff #I love them your honor kljarjkeajraejrjker #They make my heart happy

[chitsangenthusiast]

[id: a layered papercraft showing mai and ty lee seconds before sharing a kiss. ty lee cradles mai's jaw in her hand as she leans in, and mai has one arm wrapped around her waist to pull her in close. her other arm rests over ty lee's shoulder, and in her hand is a small bunch of yellow, orange, and white flowers. behind them is a circle of red torch ginger lilies and pink siam tulips, all outlined in black to resemble stained glass art. over the entire photo are soft streaks of sunshine.]

for @maileeweek2022 (belated) day 2: flowers // featuring stained glass artist!mai & flower shop owner!ty lee 🌹🌷

"Are those dandelions?" Mai asks, and it's a wonder that there's barely a tremor in her voice with how hard her heart is stuttering, how obvious her hands are shaking as she accepts the dandelions and clover flowers thrust at her the minute Ty Lee rushes back into the workshop. "You caught me by surprise!" shecries back, all sunshine and watery giggling as she uses her now-free hands to wipe at her eyes. "If I had known you were doing this then I would've come prepared! I've been planning for weeks—I have so many specially curated flowers back at the shop just for it!" Mai looks down at the flowers in her hands. They're hastily picked, a far cry from the striking bouquets back at the flower shop with the bruised petals and uneven stems and a clearly hurried attempt at creating even a passable presentation, and yet— They're beautiful. Mai has never pressed flowers into glass before, she's never had the desire to. But already she knows stained glass won't be enough, none of the vast array of colors in her workshop could ever come close to recreating the sheer radiance of such a declaration like these few flowers themselves do. "Well—" finally, the tremor presents itself, overwhelmed exhilaration flowing out to match her racing heartbeat as she asks, "do dandelions and clovers mean anything?" "They do!" and Ty Lee is beautiful. Full of delighted laughter, her eyes endlessly darting from the stained glass piece resting on the table behind them to Mai and then back again. Her cheeks are a light pink, a stark contrast to the shining reds of the glass and her own top, the most stunning color Mai has likely ever seen in her life. Ty Lee sways forward then, closing the gap between them as she slips her hands up the length of Mai's arms, up to cradle her jaw, before tucking her grin into the corner of Mai's gasping mouth. "But I'll tell you in a sec. Come here."

#love confessions through gifting stained glass art.......WHEW <333 #there were so many special flower options to go with for this piece #but ultimately i decided on red torch ginger lilies and siam tulips #both bc i could see them being ty lee's favorites and bc (from my understanding) they symbolize certain aspects of love <3 #also tried smth new with using sunshine as a prop!! #maileeweek2022 #mailee #ty lee #mai #kathcraft #my writing #(+ yeah i 100% did put ty lee in a leopard skirt bc i worked on this on my bday lmaoo)

[ceruleancattail]

Hewwo, what about yandere Trey and Cater as kitsune, they just both give me big fox energy

I am so sorry Anon, while I was writing this, I didn't see the Yandere.... I'm a disgrace *screaming in the corner*

We’ll give you sweet dreams until the end,

         So you’ll be with us until then, right?

Trey

Trey is caring. It’s probably ingrained into his very being at this point. Years of guarding a single town would do that to a person… or in this case, a fox.

He used to be a guardian. A soldier, standing at attention at the town’s gates, ready to turn away any foolish assailants would dare to approach.

In this day and age, he’s just another myth to the townsfolk. Nothing more but the little stone figure of a fox. A bedtime story to tell children, something to make them feel safe within the borders of the town.

If you ever get lost in the woods, the Kitsune will come, swinging his lantern. It’s filled with a ghostly blue, will-o-wisps fluttering in between the trees like butterflies. He’ll lead you out, with all his nine tails swaying with the breeze.

So if you ever get lost, Master… Please don’t hesitate to call out his name. Day or night, he’ll come for you. 

Just take Trey’s hand.

Fur brushes over your bare arm, every strand has your skin prickling, goosebumps flaring to life. Tails of emerald snake across your limbs, curling around them. As if they were wrapping you up for Christmas day. 

Shoulders stiffening, you draw it back slowly. Eyes narrowed, focused on the creature that stood before you.

Emerald green hair, cut in a short corp. A pair of fuzzy ears stood at attention, flickering in and out of existence. A pair of glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose, held together by a desperate combination of red ribbons and tape. The glass itself was dotted with stains smeared across the lens. Despite that, the ember of his eyes still managed to shine from within. Piercing into your soul, staring into its very depths. 

An odd shape was painted on his cheek. A clover, like one used to mark a deck of poker cards. Unconsciously, you found yourself staring at its leaves. Counting them silently.

One, Faith.

Two, Hope.

Three, Love.

The fourth was missing, oddly enough. 

Luckless.

A light cough. A polite jab at your attention. He raises his hands in surrender, a disarming pose. Showing you he meant no harm. Emerald tails draw back towards him, releasing your limbs from their embrace.

A moment of silence passed, before he spoke. A low, gravelly voice that carried a certain authority with it. Reminiscent of a tired brother’s tone, exasperated at their siblings' antics, followed by a tinge of fondness. A tender, gentle sort of tone that just sets you at ease. Slowly, you felt your shoulders relaxing, arms dropping back to your sides.

“ Are you lost ? ”

He asks, brows frowning in concern.

Somewhat hesitantly, you shake your head. The fox tilts its head, surprised at your response. He leans forward, forehead barely brushing against yours. You could feel his breath waft over your face. Warm. 

He was warm.

“ Well, that's certainly odd. There’s nothing much to see in these woods. ” 

Chuckling to himself, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“There’s still you, though.”

You respond.

The fox blinks, eyes widening in surprise. 

“ Me ? ”

Nodding, you give him a sheepish grin. Taken aback by your answer, a faint pink blossomed on his cheeks, spreading to the very tips of his ears. He opens his mouth, yet all the words die on the very tip of his tongue, plunging face first into the silence. His tails sway nervously, swishing from the left to the right.

Eyelids fluttering shut, he takes a deep breath. Calming his nerves. A weight presses itself into your cheek. Fingers edging under your chin, the fox tilts it upwards gently. The warmth of his hand surged into your skin, the blade of his nails grazing your face ever so slightly.

Taking a good look at you for the first time. The little one who wandered into those empty woods in search of him. Despite himself, that made him a little happy.

“ You’ve certainly found me, little one. Trey Clover, Kitsune.

Pleasure to make your acquaintance … Master. ”

Cater

Cater was always wily. Even after all these years, he still found himself craving the attention that came from his heyday as a yokai. Concealing himself as a human was the least of his concerns.

You’ll see him mingling with the townsfolk, laughing away. He’s something of a town mystery, considering the fact that no one really knows anything about him.

He does pride himself as the village matchmaker; pinching someone’s things and slipping it into their crushes’ bag… A meddler for a good cause. Most couples in the town could be credited to him, y’know?

Do ya have someone you like, Master? He’ll pull some strings just for you…

So just take Cater’s hand, yeah?

Sometimes, convenience trumps health. Popping another piece of deep fried shiitake mushroom into your mouth, you marvelled at the flavour bursting onto your tongue. Bless Kushikatsu booths. Fast, greasy food, all speared onto a stick for the consumer’s convenience. 

The wonders of simplicity. 

 Your hands reach towards your bag, unzipping it slowly. At the whirl of the zipper coming undone, a grey blur of motion leapt out of the bag. Grim landed on your lap, paws smashing against your thighs. He lunges for the sticks, seizing another in his jaws.

Gnawing on the chicken, Grim lounges on your lap, making himself comfortable. 

“ Cute cat. Mind if I snap a few photos with him ? ”

A lighthearted laugh, as a hand reached for Grim’s furry noggin, giving it an affectionate pat. 

You turn around, only to come face to face with a pair of sea green eyes beaming at you. A red diamond was inked onto his cheeks, crinkled ever so slightly from his smile. A untruly mop of ginger hair was yanked into a loose hair tie, tugged behind his head.

You stare at the newcomer.

“ You see him ?”

Grim wasn’t exactly what you'd call normal. He was a creature, straight out of a dusty old fairy tale. You weren’t sure exactly which tale he hailed from, and Grim doesn’t seem to remember. Either way, most people won’t see anything, even if he were to stick his furry butt in their face.

This man managed to see him. Heck, touch him, even.

A groan, before he runs a hand through his hair, tousling it up. A sheepish grin plays loosely on his lips, dancing like a mirage.

“ I went and put my foot in it, huh ? ”

Slowly, a pair of ears unfurl from the top of his head. The soft ember hues of a sunset, the very end of the day. Fox’s ears, slanted at an angle. 

Something soft brushed against your elbow. One of his nine tails, spilling out from his back. Each curl into each other, forming an odd sort of cushion for both of you to lean back against.

Raising a hand, he offers it to you.

“ Cater Diamond. Local social media influencer, as well as Kitsune on duty !”

Hesitantly, you reach out. Grasping his hand, before giving it a brief shake. His claws trailed on your wrist, the ends uncomfortably sharp against your skin. 

Cater’s grip grows tighter, his grin wider. A foxy expression, filled with mischief. There was something sinister in that gaze, a predator sizing up his prey.

“ I think we’re going to be having lots of fun together, Master. ”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #mystic #mystic au #trey clover x reader #trey clover #trey #trey x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #cater x reader #cater #lucky potion 🔷

[daimyosprincess]

NEW BOBA FIC FRIDAY!!! 🎉

As promised besties here is a preview of my upcoming WIP Worth the Risk! Inspired by the AU queen @maybege's dad's friend and matchmade!Boba thots, this fic's got all your favs: banter, bratting, and getting dicked the f*ck down 🥴

I should have the full story up in the next couple weeks, hope y'all enjoy 💖

—PAIRING: Dad's Friend!Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: Pushing your luck has its rewards.

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

<Better give me those panties now, princess>

Your cheeks heat immediately reading Boba’s message. You can’t see him from your seat but you know wherever he is, he can certainly see you. Crossing your knees, you make sure your hem rides a little higher up your thigh.

Your phone buzzes again and your eyes dart to the new message on your screen.

<I’m not going to ask you twice>

A heated shiver ripples down your spine, pooling in the dampness already forming between your thighs. You know you shouldn’t have riled him up before your family’s cookout but you just couldn’t resist after he’d been gone for a week. Missing his bone deep comfort and lightning touch, you wore a new flirty sundress and rubbed him half hard in the driveway, completely unable to contain your excitement at having him back in your arms. You’d been an absolute angel in his absence, texting him that you remembered to take your meds, drinking enough water everyday, and not touching where you wanted him most just like he asked.

Really, you’ve been a complete saint. You only texted him those two dirty pictures because he asked for them. If anything, Boba should be rewarding you for your restraint instead of making you survive this cookout aching and desperate before he took you home and made good on all his filthy promises. 

Yes, it had definitely been time to take matters into your own hands. And you’re not going to stop now. A sly grin sneaks over your face and you tap out a response.

<Or what? You can’t do shit with all these people around old man>

Adrenaline pipes hot as you hit send. Clicking the screen off, you make a show of stretching so your tits press together. You know he’s got a laser focus on you now after that little message.

Feeling rather pleased with yourself, you chuck your phone into the seat you’re saving for your cousin, Ari. You scan the crowd of family, friends, and neighbors searching for their telltale blue hair and catch it over by the drinks table. No surprise there, of course.

“My, my, my, such a dirty mouth on such a pretty girl.”

The hot shock of Boba’s sinful voice races across your skin. From the sound of it alone you know you’re in deep shit—maybe he’d finally snap and press you up against a wall in a hidden corner. After all, your “good” deeds never went unpunished with him, especially not when they involved blatant acts of brattery. And especially not when you acted like you could get away with them.

A hot spike fires in your core at the thought of what he might do next. 

Putting your most dazzlingly innocent smile, you turn your face up to him, acting like you’re making pleasant conversation. “Oh I assure you, it can get much dirtier… remember that night in your truck?”

The corner of his lips twitch up. “Careful, princess.” The way his dark eyes burn with the unspoken magnitude of his threat almost draws a whimper from your lips. “You already owe me those pink panties of yours, don’t make me add to that list.”

divider by @saradika

taglist 💖

@agirlnamejacq @burningfieldof-clover @marierg @dukeoftheblackstar @imarvelatthestars

@saradika @baufraus @andrakass2 @samspenandsword @liadamerondjarin

@sleepingsun501 @sgt-morgan @rescuethewretched @rexxdjarin @ladytano420

@writingwintermoon @funnyducky666 @acatalystrising @xxladysquishyxx @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

@kimiheartblade @shinyshayminflower @wings-and-beskar @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @wolffegirlsunite

@echocolatt @100lxtters @bobaprint @cw80831 @anticipayosbot

#zwei writes #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #worth the risk fic

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 10- Lifetimes

FICTOBER Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

warnings- mentions of witchcraft, they are witches lol

------

“How many lifetimes do you think it took to find each other?”

Fingers intertwined, Harry laid with Y/N against his chest as they gazed into the roaring fire in front of them. The man’s wool cloak rested over the both of them, preserving warmth. It was cold but neither of them felt an inkling of wanting to retreat indoors. Their bound hands rested against the girl’s tummy, the sparks of the wood floating up in the air to mimic fireflies. 

“I’m not sure.” Harry’s voice warmed her ear. “I’d like to think that we found each other in every lifetime, but this is the destined one.” The witches knew they had a soul tie, the overwhelming peace filling their beings when they had found one another a telltale key. Soul mates, twin flames, the real ones. Their first meeting had been overwhelming in the best way. Happening by chance during all hallows eve, the festivities in full swing as the even fuller moon hung ripe in the sky. Y/N had been selling her enchanted flower crowns to the humans, and Harry had wandered over. Time had stopped when they’d locked eyes, but the need to act calm had repressed the true joy she felt when he had lit up. The subtle golden glow from his being which surely was replicated in her own, other witches watching with bated breaths as the humans remained none the wiser as Harry stalked slower and slipped into her tent, pulling her into his embrace. 

The golden glow showing it was their time. Their past lifetimes of near misses, they’d not been in vain. Their eternal lives would continue, no chance of death unless they both will it. Finding your Eternal, it was a celebrated occurrence. The magick soul develops for as many lifetimes as it takes for them to be ready to join with another. They’d have to have had at least a few. 

“Honestly?” His words caught her from her thoughts, making her turn slightly to look at him. His nose pink tipped, hair falling into his face and stubble on his upper lip making her thank the tiny bit of humanity that continued on with witches. “I would wait every lifetime to end up with you.” His voice was hushed, the forest around them quiet as the creatures listened in. “I’ve never felt a joy like this in my days. I know our lifetimes beforehand were wildcards but… I have you, my eternal partner, and we will make a life together. The moon and gods give us our lifetimes before to develop us into good enough beings to continue to shape the world as we know it, as witches and witchcraft become a baseline of the world like it used to…” He played with her amethyst ring. “I could not ask for a better companion to spend the rest of days with. To learn your magic and teach you my own as our souls blend and connect.” 

“I enjoy being able to light a fire with a snap.” Y/N did admit, rubbing her cool nose against his own. “And I know you must enjoy being able to speak with some of the creatures.” Harry’s elemental magic and Y/N’s plant and animal abilities had begun to blend into their own abilities, giving them control of everything they needed. Eternal pairs matched to provide the world what they needed. 

“Well.. I do admit you’ve been able to light a fire in me since we met. It may have taken a while for our abilities to combine, but for us to still be learning and loving? I understand now. Why they make us wait.” He paused. “I could never forgive myself for being given your heart wrapped up in clover and petals, and dropping it because I hadn’t learned the proper way to hold it. Our lifetimes before were painful without our union, but… This one is what all the pain has led to.” Arms around her tightened as she smiled shyly, chapped lips pressing to the corners of her own as the fire roared hotter. “I’d go a million more years, thousands of kilometers if I knew you were at the finish line, my love. You were worth the wait.” 

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #Harry styles Halloween #harry styles halloween blurb #Harry styles Halloween one shot #fictober #jarofstyles fictober 2023 #jarofstyles fictober #Harry styles au #Harry smut #Harry fluff #Harry angst #Harry styles fluff #Harry styles angst

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Huntlow Week Day 1: Prompt Halloween/Hooty

"Oh! Good evening Hunter!"

A sliver of light passed over Hunter's body from the inside of the Park house.

He'd knocked.

He had.

Willow liked the danger of Hunter sneaking in through her balcony, and though she'd offered to "magic him up" with vines, or to have Clover fly him up, tonight of all nights, Hunter opted to act appropriately and knock.

Slowly, the door cracked open and a small sliver of warm light slid out from the Park's kitchen in a line over Hunter's head.

"Ah! Hunter. Good evening!" Harvey Park smiled. "Please come on in!

"Thank you Mr. Park!" Hunter gave a small smile and Harvey opened the door even wider which made Hunter's smile wider as well.

"Gilbert's out getting some last minute grosseries for dinner, and Willow's upstairs waiting for you!"

"Yessir!" Hunter bowed his head only to feel Harvey's sturdy hand on his shoulder.

"Of course." Harvey chuckled. "And Hunter? I do hope one day you will call me Harvey?"

"I hope so too." Hunter whispered.

Within seconds he had rushed up the stairs, with a thick tapping sound from his pink crocs. He reached another door covered in pictures of various types of flora and knocked again.

"Trick or treat!" Hunter sang out as Willow's sunny face answered.

"BOTH!" She answered, pulling him in as quickly as she shut the door behind them.

Then, Willow Park had Hunter in her arms. She tackled him gently and they fell on the floor in breathless peels of laughter.

Hunter let out a snort and lifted his hands , "I SURRENDER!" he shouted. "I AM AT YOUR MERCY! ANYTHING YOU WANT! IT'S YOURS!"

"Pfft! You're being a pushover on purpose." Willow teased. She laid her head across his chest, ear to the place she had told him so many times was best to hear his heartbeat. "Did you bring the goods?" She whispered.

"Check my bag." Hunter nodded.

They sat up as Willow dug her hands through his school bag pulling out a big pillow case full of every kind of Human Realm Candy possible.

"W-we probably should wait until after dinner before we get started on that." Hunter rubbed the back of his neck as he watched his girlfriend line up each piece of candy in order of what she liked to eat first.

"Hunter?" Willow stopped a moment. She looked at him with a soft smile. "Are you sure you're not mad that Gus is over with Luz and the others for Halloween?"

Hunter shook his head. Gently, he pressed his hand against his chest where Flapjack lay. "I get it. Maybe one day I'll be ready to do a real Human Realm Halloween again? But I wouldn't want to hold anyone else back." He felt a sharpness behind his throat. "Are you disappointed?" he whispered. "I mean, that you aren't over there now?"

Willow's cheeks went pink. "Nah." She waived her hand and shuffled a bit more through the pillowcase. "Getting to do Halloween last year was fun and all ... until ... you know. Until it wasn’t?" Her eyes watered a bit. "But there's a lot of things I get to do this year that's even better?"

"Yeah? Like what?" Hunter gave his girlfriend a lopsided grin. From the look on Willow's face he knew that she'd found it. The one thing he'd hidden in the bag of Reeses', and Hersey Bars, and those weird triangle things that Luz insisted were "loser candy." And then, Hunter felt his grin spread.

Gingerly, Willow opened the box of Pocky and slid out one long thin cookie, resting the chocolate covered side between her full lips. With the tips of her fingers she drew his chin closer towards her own. As Hunter began to eat one side as Willow ate the other, meeting in the middle in a soft, sweet crumb covered kiss.

"I get to do stuff like that." Willow whispered as Hunter felt his ears light up.

"Mmmmmmm." He hummed. "That was nice."

"You wanna have another piece?" She whispered.

A sliver of guilt filled Hunter's stomach. "B-but your dads are gonna be calling us down for dinner soon?"

"Maybe?" Willow shrugged. She crawled closer, placing the new stick between her lips and with a devious laugh, she rumbled, “But it is Halloween, and I think we're required to spoil our dinner with something sweet."

And without any further argument, Hunter closed the space between them with another kiss.

#huntlow week #huntlow week 2023 #pocky kiss #toh fanfic #the owl house #toh hunter #willow park #willow x hunter #spotify #huntlow #promt: Halloween

[forlorn-crows]

Crowwwwwwwww I'm thinking of trans Mountain crying while getting peggeddddddddd can u help pls 🙏

trans ghoul tuesday, all this pegging talk . . . you know i had to do it to 'em.

enjoy my love

"These really do fold up nicely, don't they?" Cumulus teases as she pins his knees to his ears. Mountain’s wet with slick and saliva, cunt puffy and red where the air ghoulette had been teasing him with her mouth. His clit twitches as Cumulus traces the head of the dildo against it, slow and even. Mountain moans at the pressure and digs his claws into the sheets. 

“You’re so pretty like this, sunflower,” she hums. “Been waiting so patiently for me to fuck you, huh?” He whines at her words, another rush of slick drooling out of his hole as he clenches around nothing. He’s always like this under her: wet, blushy, needy. 

Mountain’s mouth hangs open in a wordless cry as Cumulus drags the strap through his folds, so slick and velvety. “‘Lus, please,” he breathes. “Please, been so good for you.”

“Aw, you have, haven’t you, darling?” She rubs a soothing hand over the backs of his thighs, over the scattered marks just as purple as her toy. “And you’re still being so good, look how wet you are,” she coos, dipping a finger between his folds. Mountain moans softly as she swirls it around his entrance, smiling when it comes out glistening. 

Cumulus’ gaze flicks up to his face, flushed a deep pink. He bites his lip as he watches her hold up the slick-coated digit, hovering just in front of her face. She reaches up to him then, smearing her finger over his mouth, grazing ever so gently against the chipped fang poking out over his bottom lip. He moans, immediately darting his tongue out to taste, to welcome her into his mouth. 

“There you go, have a taste,” she purrs, petting his tongue as he suckles. She continues to stroke over the soft hair on the backs of his thighs, admiring the goosebumps that pop up in the wake of her touch. He throbs when she gives the sensitive skin a little pinch, his little dick so fat and full of blood even without her touching him. 

Mountain moans around her finger and bucks his hips, pleading with glassy, half-lidded eyes. 

“You want me to fuck you, little clover?” Cumulus pulls her finger from his mouth, a thin trail of saliva stringing out between its tip and the corner of his mouth. 

“Yes,” Mountain says eagerly. His legs are just barely beginning to tremble, and his clit still throbs with every little pinch. The earth ghoul wraps his hands along the backs of his knees, holding himself open for her. He cranes his neck back with a groan as she dips that finger in between his folds again, prodding slightly deeper and making his back bow off the bed. 

“Please, Lus,” he begs in a broken voice. 

Cumulus brushes his damp hair back away from his face with her free hand, tucking it back behind his horns. “Okay, okay my darling. Let me give you what you need.” She gives him one last thrust with her finger before she pulls away, teasing his plump clit on the way out. Mountain gives her a surprise trill in response, a noise that makes him blush with a thread of embarrassment. 

“That’s awfully cute, sunflower,” she smiles, rubbing the excess slick onto the toy. Cumulus presses her hands into the backs of his thighs, just below his own hands. The toy rests neatly between his folds as she thrusts slowly, taking her time slicking it up. There’s no shortage of it, not when Mountain whines and clenches out another glob that attaches itself right to the base of the strap. 

“Doing such a good job,” Cumulus chirps. She runs her hand over the silicone briskly to coat it the rest of the way. She rubs the tip of the toy around his entrance, teasing the first centimeter of it inside. Mountain’s nails dig into the flesh behind his knees, tendons flexing in his hands. The softest of noises bubbles up in his throat as he fights the urge to pull Cumulus in. 

The air ghoulette hums and presses more of her weight onto Mountain’s legs, slowly pushing the length of the toy in. 

“Fuck, that’s—oh—” is all he can say as she fills his cunt, stretching him just enough. She slides in easily, a fact she continues to praise him for, until her hips are flush against him. Cumulus gives a sympathetic groan as the earth ghoul huffs out little uh’s as he’s made to sit with her deep inside. 

Cumulus places little kisses to his calves, smiling at the way his eyes screw shut and his mouth hangs open. “Just what you wanted, huh, little clover?” She rolls her hips ever so slightly, earning another gasp. 

“Uh huh,” Mountain moans, pressing onto the toy with any leverage he can. “Please, ‘Lus, need you to fuck me.”

Cumulus leans down to capture his mouth in a tender kiss. She rolls her hips again, still kissing him sweetly. Mountain whines through his nose, letting go of his knees to grab at her face and lick against the seam of her mouth, trying to turn it filthy. 

The air ghoulette pulls away before he can get a proper taste. Mountain’s legs follow her body, unfurling to rest on her shoulders as she inches out, slow and deliberate. The earth ghoul’s trembling now, breath quick in anticipation. 

Without warning, she drives home, burying the toy to the hilt in his cunt. Mountain keens, thighs threatening to squeeze together as he throws his head back. She pulls out again, thrusting back into him with the same enthusiasm. His clit throbs with it, fat and flush in the middle of his folds.

It doesn’t take long to set a comfortable pace, one that has the earth ghoul whining steadily and clutching at the sheets. 

“So good, ‘Lus, fuck, so so good,” he starts babbling after a few minutes. He can barely keep his eyes open now, alternating between rolling back into his head and staring through droopy eyelids. 

“You look so good, So pretty on my cock, sunflower,” Cumulus praises. 

“Fuck.” Mountain’s hands roam over his chest at the comment, feeling himself up. 

“Even prettier when I touch you . . .” she trails off, running her hand down the earth ghoul’s leg and coming to rest just above his pubic bone. Her thrusts slow substantially, reaching a lazy, teasing pace. Mountain’s chest heaves, every nerve under her hand alight with need. Her hand dips lower, lower, lower, until: “Here.” Cumulus presses her thumb to Mountain’s clit just as she presses all the way in once more.

“Yes, like that, just like that,” he chokes out, stomach twitching with each pass over his dick. He’s almost dripping now, Cumulus’ toy sliding in and out of him with no real friction as she picks up speed again. She shifts the angle of her hips, focusing her thrusts upward and using her free fingers to press against Moutain’s lower belly as she thumbs his clit. 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Mountain chants, slipping his own fingers under her thumb instead, guiding her hand to press more firmly against his abdomen. 

“That’s a good boy, darling, there you go.” Mountain groans long and loud at that, fingers stopping and starting against his length with each thrust. 

“‘M gonna cum, gonna—fuck oh fuck—” His moan cuts off as the wave of pleasure crashes over him, body spasming and bowing off the bed. Cumulus fucks him through it, slowing only when he collapses against the bed half a minute later, gasping and twitching, hand still idly circling over his clit. 

“‘Lus, please,” he begs, knees pressing together in front of her face. 

“Oh, I know you’ve got more in you, don’t you little clover,” she says, a little meanly. 

“W-wha—” Mountain barely has time to ask the question before Cumulus is flipping both of his legs to one side, holding him in a slight twist. She leans back and thrusts deep and hard, reveling in the confused and fucked-out look on his face. 

“Oh fuck oh no,” Moutnain says through ragged gasps. He’s still twitching and throbbing with overstimulation, forced to take what she gives him. It’s nothing less than the hottest thing she ever does to him. He can feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes already, threatening to spill in hot, angry lines down his cheeks. 

“Aw, let me see those sweet little tears, sunflower,” Cumulus purrs, digging her nails into his thighs. 

Mountain sobs as another orgasm rips through him, tears spilling from his squeezed-shut eyes, flowing freely. 

#ask #miasma #im gonna turn off the ask box on you woman #(i would never) #fanfic #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #mountain ghoul #mountain my love #cumulus ghoulette #mountain x cumulus #cumulus x mountain #i love them your honor #ficlet #PEGGGINNNNG ill never shut up about it. esp not if its my husband #transghoul tuesday

[searchingforserendipity25]

Vigil. idril & aredhel. ao3.

TW: references to kidnapping, implied/referenced sexual assault.

"Aunt," said Idril, rather stiffly, where once she would have used her name, and would not have asked at all. "Might I join you?"

Aredhel fought the urge to bare her teeth, and kept her eyes on the crowded clouds above.

Pink-washed and round-bellied, west-bound. The wind was fierce with currents only clouds and birds sailed, but the courtyard Aredhel had chosen for her rest was well-sheltered, the stone rich with heat.

It had been some effort, to go the long way alone; but she had a cane, and a son to lean on. She had been weary and pained enough to send the son gladly away; and be gladdest of all to be alone.

She heard Idril come, her silver feet making their familiar song upon the mosaics of Gondolin's courts. That was more kindness she was used to in Nan Elmoth, where many things scurried, and few gave a warning of their proximity.

A glorious warmth seeped into her bones. She had been so cold, in Nan Elmoth. Not a first - but it was a damp mist that sank through the skin, a dizzying weariness. Sunlight - only occasionally. Eöl kept to the starlit-ways. 

Aredhel had kissed Arien Sun-Star once, and crowed to voicelessness when first she saw hard land, and thawing frost. She had missed this - it made her angry so. What a waste of years she might have spent otherwise.

And still Idril was waiting. It was not kind, to set a test upon her; but Aredhel could not do otherwise. And it was good to know Idril would wait; that she was not so changed as to have lost her persistence.

"Sit, if you like," Aredhel said. "I am not your master, to tell you what you might do."

Her voice sounded rough with long illness to her own ears, but she took her time gathering it in her throat, made it strong. In her sujourn under the curling boughs of Nan Elmoth, it had been needful to speak, and always it had been done with effort. She might have forgotten the sound of her own words, let them fade entirely.

Was he your master, then, Idril thought. Were you not free to do as you would, even to sit in the sun?

Aredhel did not hear it, but she knew her niece. The same wisdom that kept Idril's thought away from the walls that Aredhel had raised about her mind would make her draw conclusion. 

Not the wrong ones. They spoke in Sindarin. Aredhel was not certain yet she would speak the language of her people again; if she could, even inside the high walls of Gondolin, where Quenya was used in the market, in the king's chambers, in songs of devotions.

Gondolin's benches were wide and sturdy enough; two might lay abreast, and not touch.

Idril's hair smelled of laurel and honey, still. Few things had made Aredhel's eyes sting on her return to Gondolin. The white stone shimmering in the heat had been a great relief, but an indifferent one, as a hunted beast might feel at the sight of a cave or a tall branch. Now only did Aredhel feel - how familiar it was. This smell, Idril's closeness, the whirring machinery of her mind close enough they might have shared a moment of wry understanding, as they had so many times before.

They did not touch.

Now a small army of cirrocumulus overhead, sweet clouds all following on one another. She had tried to teach Lómion the different cloud names, but he had not the love for the skies that she did. Her son was busy in the forges. He had found his source of warmth, learned at his father's side. Aredhel had loved him less the day she understood he would not need to live as she did.

Possibly her measuring scale of love had grow skewered. O, now Turgon never would allow her out! But the worst of it was that she was tired. Not her wound alone caused it, though that healed slowly regardless.

 She willed herself to see it - herself on horseback again, crossing fields of clover, narrow passes. Her body thrummed with exhaustion at the thought of it. 

The high noon sun pressed against their lids, turned the world to a blinding gilt. Idril surely felt Aredhel's fever rising, the warmth that rose from her skin; but Idril was wise, and knew how to measure her silence. Aredhel had forgotten a little, how worthy her niece was.

At times dark shadows swirled overhead through the clouds. Slow, broad wings high above, coming from all corners of the mountainside.

The vultures that fed most often by Amon Gwareth had flown days ago to the city walls for a feast: Eöl, they cried. Eöl is dead. More and more came, eager, hungry.

 As a widow she had woken from near-death, knowing with rare foresight that her body would not be her own, and whole and hale again, until Eöl was eaten entire, bowels and eyeballs and marrow. Aredhel of Gondolin waited.

It was a good wait; long enough to learn the skies again, to be sun-warm all the way through.

She touched her fingertips lightly to Idril's, when it was done, and felt her stir, her thought turning to Aredhel, a constrained joy and grief and relief. But Aredhel was in no hurry, and did not wish to open her heart again, nor leave to return to her chambers; not till the last birds of rapine were borne slowly away in the wind.

#fic #idril celebrindal #aredhel #my fics #february ficlet challenge #prompt 1 - high noon #silm fic #tolkien fanfiction #tfog