#that there is anything sweeter than being called sunshine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

popponn · 3 months

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idk if you accept requests but i badly want to read the blue lock boys with the orange peel theory going around on tiktok 🥹

notes: anon, i was in a slump and then you come with this, please know i cant get it out of my mine for 2 whole nights. so, please have this, i hope u will enjoy it & your fave is there. also shoutout to @doobea for helping me with rin & barou esp <3 aso for standing my yappings. warning: none, post canon au in mind, reader's gender unspecified.

character: isagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin, sae, barou + bonus

isagi

sweet boy will do it with a smile. is not the tidiest but you can now eat your orange while sharing with him. has a vibe that he is sort of used to doing this somehow. a total win still. if you do the same for him he will get flustered. also asking this is one of the quickest ways to get mr. egoist switches to mr. sweetheart boyfriend.

“Eh, why are peeling one too? I already… for me…?…I, uh—I see. Thanks… I—I am… give me a second.”

kaiser

you are the one who will peel for him—unless you throw a fuss and give him a silent treatment because this guy's pride is no joke. he can, he just doesn't want to. but to appease you and gain back his rightful spoiling, he will. afterward, at least, he learns his lesson and when you are about to peel one yourself, will take it and peel it beautifully for you like a second nature.

“…the fuck are you staring at? Just take it. You are about to eat it anyway, right? Then what's the big deal?”

bachira

yes, he will no question asked but is it worth it. probably will make a mess out of his energy. you will be laughing along with him somehow though so it is worth it. having the sunshine doing anything in front of you is a guaranteed smile-inducing routine. as for the orange, please do switch to other alternatives, for example: kisses, as suggested by him.

“Isn't this better than orange? Huum, huum! More healthy, sweeter too, right? Another one?”

chigiri

depending on his mood, you will either get a very cute orange peel or a half-peeled orange (at best) you have to finish peeling yourself. on the former, you get a smug bf who will feed you like it's a pocky stick. on the latter, you better be the one feeding him while hugging and cuddling him. multitask somehow. also, give him kisses because he is called a ‘princess’ for a reason.

“Ah, being in your arms being fed like this… yeah, yeah. I know don't worry. I will repay the favor.”

nagi

realistically, you will be the one peeling it for him and forcing him to eat one. because why would he even touch one? he is too lazy for that, nothing personal. but, let's say he really, really loves you: he still won't, he will just give you orange-flavored jelly in replacement. it does come from a place of love though, he genuinely thinks it's less troublesome to eat and, hence: better.

“Eating that is troublesome. It taste the same too. We can also do it while kissing. Mouth to mouth. Better right?”

reo

normally, will get a servant to peel it for you and him. though: can he do it? will he do it if it must be him? no question asked, absolutely will, all while chatting and staring at you with so much love. totally mr. k-drama male lead. you and your premium orange are in good hands.

“Oh, man, you are sometimes really …huh? Nah, I mean, I like doing this. It's just now I feel like I have to do this every time, so… yeah.”

rin

the first time, he will click his tongue and mess up. he will crush the orange. better never speak of it again, just know he loves you wholly despite everything. then a week passes and suddenly you will get a professional competitive orange peeler part-timer. without asking. just eat your orange. unless you are sick of it or it makes you actually sick.

“Did the orange taste good? … good. Nothing. You just look… nevermind. Do you want another one?”

sae

will he or will you. realistically, no? there are two possible reasons: 1) he can't. his whole stat is in soccer. 2) “you can't?” aka is it worth it getting judged by him. in case #2 though, just act cute and aim for his soft spot for you, he will fold and peel it with you pressed to his arm. he will grumble or glare but that's just itoshi-esque tsundere.

“You can't do something like this yourself? This will be the only time I’m doing this… Also who told you to move away?”

barou

our king. will peel the skin and the white fiber for you. tidy peels and if you know your way around his heart—you do just smile or blink and he is gone—he will also feed you. 10/10 execution no notes. probably will do this in kotatsu, dinner tables, and other domestic settings that are not bed while being a tsundere.

“I’m doing this just so you don't make a mess, got it? Also, scoot closer, your leg is kicking me—what do you mean I’m lying?!”

bonus

kunigami will, both before and after wc because you are his world. the difference would be in his expression only and there is that because his love for you would never change. shidou will but genuinely, please just peel it yourself. aiku will, not without teasing you though. gagamaru will either will or teach you how to eat the skin too. zantetsu wants to do it, but it will be really messy so please just don't. hiori will do it like a sweet boy, but if he is in his sadistic mood he will tease you for a bit before finally feeding you.

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dckweed · 4 months

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THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND ➺ bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut.

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

part one: here

PART TWO - THE FAKE INSTAGRAM

After the whole fiasco of snorting water out of your nose and scaring the poor man half to death, Bob insists on taking you to the quaint coffee shop on the corner of the street you guys lived on, just a few steps away from the front doors of the apartment building. Reluctantly, you agree, curious to know more about the predicament your neighbor had gotten himself into. He lets you have a few minutes to throw a cropped zip up hoodie over yourself, and a baseball cap to help shade the still slightly visible bruise on your face before you meet him in the hallway. He had clipped Cosie to her leash and the excited little furball was yipping excitedly when you stepped out of your home, closing the door behind you.

“Hi Cosie baby!” You say excitedly, your voice sweeter than honey as you crouched down to her level to excitedly scratch her behind the ears like she loved. “You being a good girl for your dad?” You ask teasingly, you knew she could never be bad, and Bob practically treated her like a princess anyway.

“Always is..” Bob says, his accent drawling out a few of the syllables in a way that you just loved to hear. God, you thought to yourself, this man could record an audio book and have everyone swooning. “You ready?”

You smile, straightening up. “Yeah, lets go..”

He was truly a gentleman you noted, he held the door to the apartment building, and the coffee shop for you as if it was second nature, only humming in response to your simple thank you, and when he pulled the chair out for you at the small table on their outdoor patio, you hoped that he didn’t notice the blush on your neck and face. Were you really so used to guys that were such brutes that you got flustered by basic acts of kindness? He hadn’t argued with you too much on paying for your own drink, letting you do it after a small squabble..or maybe you really didn’t give him a choice..you had already payed with your phone while you were arguing before he had even gotten his wallet out of his back pocket.

“So,” You say as he sits across from you, looping Cosie’s leash to the more shaded side of the table. “Can you elaborate on the whole girlfriend thing for me?” Now it was him who was turning red.

He fidgets awkwardly with his hot, black coffee for a moment, those eyebrows knit tightly together again. He clears his throat before he speaks. “I kind of..already told all of my friends that we’re dating.” He says, you lean back in the chair, your head tilted slightly towards the sun as you listen to him. You enjoyed the warmth on your face.“I..i don’t know what came over me..we were all drinking, and they said something about dating it somehow turned to me..and i just..i’m so tired of Hangman and his fucking manwhore whorier than thou attitude and always teasing me for not going on dates all the time..”

“So you told them you were dating someone?” You ask, seeing where the story was going. You could tell that the story alone was irritating him by the was his hand clenched around his coffee cup and the tightness around his mouth, the tick in his jaw. You wondered how long he had been putting up with this ‘Hangman’ guy.

Bob nods. “And then they asked her name, and at the time the only thing i could come up with quickly enough to not seem suspicious was Sunny..so..” You laugh a little bit, this man was adorable, and obviously gentle even though he was clearly upset by what he was talking about. You liked that about him, you decided.

How could you not help him? And really, what could it hurt? “How long would you need me to be your girlfriend for?” You ask, bringing the straw of your iced latte to your lips, moaning softly as the heavy caramel flavor hit your tongue. You could drink it forever. You see his body sag a little at your words, a little more relaxed.

“Just long enough to make it believable.” He states, eyeing you from across the table. Cosie’s cold nose pokes your leg and you happily reach down and scratch her head, giving the little baby all the attention she wanted. “A couple of nights out with my friends, obviously, and im sure Nat will want to hang out with you one on one..” He says, actually thinking of the scenarios that would most likely take place. “A couple of official work events, probably, I would say, a few months..”

You turn your attention back to him, lips pursed. A few months? That would land you around the beginning of the year..through Christmas..you had agreed to go home for the holiday’s this year. You arched a brow as you thought. It would look good if you brought a man home to your family, especially a man like Bob, they would swoon all over him..you wouldn’t have to spend the whole week hearing your grandmother tell you that you should be married already, or have a family like your brother and sister.. “Okay, i’ll help you out, but only if the fake boyfriend thing can be used in my favor too..” You say. He nods immediately. “So..rules?”

The two of you talk for a couple of hours at the coffee shop, the little table filled with the occasional laughter as you talked about rules of the arrangement, and what would need to be done. Later on you found yourself on one side of your couch, Bob on the other as the two of you tried to work out a schedule.

“Can you meet with me and the crew at our usual bar tomorrow night?” He asks, looking up from his phone at you. Natasha and Jake were blowing up the group chat about meeting you and it was slowly driving him insane. He had about forty text messages from this morning until right that moment.

You shake your head. :”I have work tomorrow night, but i’m off Monday.” You say, looking up from your own phone. You had been texting your sister about your plans for the Holidays. “My sister wants to know where you’re from, and what you do and i dont think she’ll take ‘navy dude’ as an answer” Bob looks at you, slightly offended.

“Navy dude?” He asks, setting his phone down for just a moment. “Sunny, i’m not just a ‘navy dude’, i’m a weapons system officer. I control the weapons and radar in multi million dollar government aircraft.” He looked completely offended by your terminology and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the way he was explaining his official job title to you. “..and I’m from Montana.”

“That explains the accent.” You say, texting your sister back.

Bob scoffs. “Accent?” He’d never been told he had an accent before. “Where are you from? This is basic stuff we should probably know about each other if we want people to believe this, you know?” You hummed in response, he was definitely right. “Also, Phoenix wants to know what your instagram is..”

“Well, that depends on how much you want your friends to know about me.” You say, setting your phone down to look at him. He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed again. You have the sudden urge to reach across the damn couch and smooth the area with your thumb, but you resist. “Don’t look at me like that, you know what i mean. Are they the judgemental type?” He opens his mouth, as if to protest and say no, but then closes it and gives a slight nod. “Okay, so fake insta it is.”

It was a good thing you already had a fake instagram account for your grandmother and other family members because it made it a hell of alot easier for you. “A fake instagram? Won’t they think something is weird if it doesn’t have any pictures of us together on it?” He asks, not fully sure of your plan. You roll your eyes and maneuver yourself so you’re laying in Bob’s lap, looking directly up at him.

His entire body goes stiff and you can’t tell if its from surprise or from being uncomfortable with your proximity, but you don’t move and after a few moments his thigh muscles untense. He smells good, you realize as you breathe in slightly. “My fake account isn’t exactly fake, okay?” You say, opening the instagram app on your phone and switching it to your second profile. “It’s just not the one I use mainly that i post on for my friends or well, if you were actually my boyfriend, you, to see..”

“Then what is the point of it?” He asks looking down at you, his accent flowing smoothly through you. His voice was a little quieter now that you were so close to him, and in all honesty you didn’t mind it one bit.

You chuckle, giving him your phone so he can scroll through it. “I normally use it for my grandma and other family members, so they won’t have a damn heart attack..they already don’t like my line of work, there’s no need to go killing them with some pictures.” Bob hums in response, scrolling through a few of the posts. “It’s the extremely tame version of my main account.”

His phone pings again and he grunts, rolling his eyes. Before he can even try to hand you your own back, you grab his off the arm of the couch above you and thank god that it was already unlocked. You gasp at the text. “Hangman wants proof that im a real girl and not just a figment of your imagination.” You say, an idea coming to mind. You roll off of his lap and quickly stand, pulling him by the forearm to his feet as he makes a disgruntled noise.

You lead him down the small hallway, past your bedroom and into your bathroom (which was thankfully not its usual disastrous mess of makeup and lingerie scattered everywhere). “Okay, stand there..” You grab him by the biceps, shocked at how solid they are because he honestly didn’t seem to be overly buff to you, and position him exactly where you want him.

“Sunny, what’re we doin’?” He sighs, letting you move him around every which way. He had to admit, he liked the way you grabbed his arms, the way you squeezed at his biceps. He tried not to let his mind linger too much on it though, tried not to notice the way that your fingertips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake every time they lingered anywhere on his bare skin.

“Taking pictures, duh.” You say as if it should have been obvious. You turn around, satisfied with his position, and face the mirror yourself, positioning his arm around your shoulders and over your chest as you press back against his surprisingly solid body. You weren’t exactly a short person by any means, but there was definitely a noticeable height difference between you and him. Your head just barely cleared his shoulders, his chin able to rest perfectly onto of your head. It made for a cute photo, you thought and you pretended not to notice the goofy smirk on his face as you captured the photo as stealthily as you could, leaning back into his chest as his chin rested on top of your head, his arm over your chest and your hand wrapped around his forearm as you took the picture, acutely aware of his hand just over the waistband of your lululemon pants.

You hum, thinking about what other positions would be cute enough to send to his friends and post to your fake insta account, you wanted to hard launch him to your family too if you were hard launching to his friends. You turn the camera of his phone front facing, and set it up to take rapid photos on a timer before you abruptly turn around and jump up, locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Smile at me.” You say, as your hand snakes up into his hair. You didn’t really have to though because he was already smiling at you in surprise as you leaned your forehead against his. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hold me.” You giggle suddenly, and the sound makes his smile grow wider as he adjusts his hands so they’re fulling on your ass, supporting you as he drops his head to your shoulder.

The whole ordeal of the photo session takes about fifteen minutes or so, and when you’re finished you lead him back out into the living room. “Sorry to jump on you like that, but i had to catch you off guard, i wanted it to look believable.” You say, sitting back down on the couch. He only hums in response, taking a spot next to you as he watches you pick through your favorite photos in his camera roll to text to yourself.

“You’re awfully good at that,” He ques, watching you edit some of the photos you had sent to your own phone, before you compose an instagram post of the best ones. “I always just take them and post them, i never thought that filters really mattered..”

You chuckle at the man, shaking your head. “What’s your instagram, bobby?” You ask, using your nickname for him as you type out a caption for the post.

“Oh, uh,” a slight blush heats up his neck and face and he clears his throat before responding. “It’s @thewizzo ..natasha actually came up with the handle.” You type it into your caption, eyebrows furrowed. You’re about to ask him what the hell a wizzo is when he answers it for you. “It’s uh, well, sometimes its a nickname, or another acronym for WSO..”

“Oh, snazzy..” You say showing him the post. It was a series of four photos and a small, but cute caption.

“Is it Bobby approved?” You ask. He gives you an affirmative nod and you hit the post button, knowing it would only be a matter of minutes before your sister and brother blow up your phone. “Okay, well, here’s to our fake relationship!” You say, attaching the photo of Bob holding you with his hands on your ass to a text with your instagram handle and sending it to his friends group chat.

The phone pings before you’ve even handed it back to him.

Hangman: holy fuck she’s real. Phee: shut up you moron, im following her rn!! Rooster: …wait i thought i was imagining this conversation last night Payback: oh, shit..way to go Bob!!

taglist!

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks

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dankfarrikfifi · 3 months

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Early mornings and Bonfires

Pt 3 of Some Version of You, 5.1k

WARNINGS: 18+ only, MDNI, explicit content, p in v, oral f!receiving, fingering, swearing, some alcohol consumption, Frankie and reader are mushy horndogs, let me know if i missed anything!

You take several more steps in your relationship with Frankie.

The first thing you notice is the warmth. You’re used to sleeping under a pile of blankets, the chill in your house relentless. This was a different kind of warmth than a blanket, though, and you start to stir. That is, until a strong arm tightens around your waist, urging you to stay still. The night before rushes back to your brain as you realize where exactly you are. Frankie is a firm presence behind you and you let yourself melt into his embrace. Before long, you’re drifting off again, comfortable in his grip.

Hours later, you’re awoken by Frankie nuzzling against the soft spot on your throat, his morning scruff tickling you ever so slightly. More awake than the last time you had stirred, you peel your eyes open and wiggle around in his arms. Turning to face him, you find the most adorable sight waiting for you. Frankie is gorgeous freshly awake, his hair uncharacteristically ruffled and soft.

“Morning sunshine,” his voice, somehow even deeper in the morning, sets your nerves ablaze. You smile up at him, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his lips to your own. This kiss is different from last night, lazier and sweeter than the desperation that had pulled at the two of you the first time you got to be alone.

“Good morning,” you smile, his teeth catching against your lip momentarily. “I had a great night.”

You say it almost sheepishly, and he can’t help but tease you, wanting to see that flush on your cheeks again.

“Is that my pretty girl being shy?” he starts trailing kisses down your throat, yanking the collar of the sweatshirt he had slipped on you last night down so he can continue following his chosen path. “Same pretty girl that was begging to taste my cock last night? That was squirming with my mouth on her cunt?”

You whine, a high pitched, almost pitiful noise that has his morning wood start to grow even harder. He wants to get all sorts of noises out of you, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel good. You shift your hips slightly, making room for Frankie to nestle his own against yours.

“Fuck, Frankie, you can’t just say shit like that this early!” You tilt your head back, maintaining eye contact seemingly impossible with him spouting out such filth.

He grins at you, mouth open ready to respond, when you hear the sharp trill of a cell phone, a ringtone that you know means there is only one person it could be at the end of that line. Frankie smiles one more time, before standing and searching for your ringing phone. You can’t help yourself from checking out his ass when he bends to pick it up from where it had fallen out of your purse. You silently wince at the number of missed calls you have, the majority and most recent of which were from the oldest Miller brother, who honestly scared you more than your own older brothers. You smile apologetically at Frankie, who excuses himself to start making coffee while you answer the call.

“Where. The hell. Have. You. Been?” Will’s voice is taking on a tone you hadn’t heard since you and Benny had broken his drum set as kids.

“I’m so sorry, Will, I promise I am fine.” You try to reassure him without revealing too many details. “I hung out with Frankie last night after my date and we lost track of time, I crashed on his couch so he didn’t have to drive me home.”

Will lets loose a sigh.

“You can’t just disappear like that, bud,” the nickname that you have been called since childhood suddenly sounding mighty patronizing. “We were worried fucking sick. I had to stop Benny from calling the cops and reporting you missing!”

“I’m sorry I really am!” you can’t help but feel like a scolded child. “We fell asleep as soon as we got home and I must have left my phone somewhere I couldn’t hear it. I promise, I’m safe, and I will be home soon.”

Will seems to accept this, and after a few more promises to be home soon, you hang up the phone. It takes you a moment to locate something to cover your lower half. You finally settle on slipping Frankie's boxer briefs over your hips, folding the waistband down so they fit better. As you walk down the hallway, following the sounds of a song humming quietly, you find Frankie making coffee, sweatpants slung low on his hips as he sways to the music. You take a moment to take him in before approaching quietly, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Ay, carajo,” he jumps, gasping a laugh as he turns in your hold to tilt his head down to look at you. “What’re you trying to do, give me a heart attack? Didn’t hear you make a peep.”

You can’t help but laugh at him, your eyes scrunching at the corners. His face mirrors yours before he leans down to press a kiss on your lips. You stand there, savoring each other’s company before you regretfully pull away. Frankie brushes a piece of hair away from your eyes, his smile turned soft. You reach up for one more small peck, unable to resist him.

“Will is going to kill me if I take any longer to get home,” you explain, and he makes an affirmative noise. You clear your throat, anxiety gripping you once again at the thought of your next question, “If they ask, what do I tell them about, you know, us?”

“You tell them whatever you’re comfortable with,” he cups your cheeks in his large hands, the feeling bringing you peace, “But to be clear, I want to be with you.”

You smile at him, a beaming ray of sunshine that lights up your face. You lean your head up toward him, begging for another kiss.

“Now time to go home, pretty girl, no use getting killed by a Miller 1 day into dating.”

You find your dress from the night before and soon you’re sitting in Frankie’s truck, on your way back to your house. When he pulls into the driveway, you part with a final kiss, and a promise to talk soon.

“So, you were on a date, with a man whose name you won’t tell us,” Will continues his interrogation of your whereabouts the night before, “And you just happen to run into Fish, and just happen to go home with him, instead of your date, and happen to sleep over?”

You are well aware your poker face needs a lot of work, but you give it a try anyways. The brothers had been waiting for you in the living room, as if they were your parents.

“Yes, exactly,” you try to stop the blush from taking over your cheeks, “I don’t know what’s so hard to understand about that.”

Will levels you with a look that says he sees right through your bullshit. He always had a knack for making you break. Benny has a little less tact, and despite taking a second to work it through, he gasps as it clicks for him.

“You fucked Fish!” he is turning wildly between you and Will, as if looking at either of you is going to confirm it. “That’s why you wouldn’t tell me, because it was fucking Frankie!”

“No - I uh,” you start stumbling over your words, dooming yourself from the moment you open your mouth. The brothers raise their eyebrows at you in unison, and you concede. “Ok, yes, my date was Frankie, and I wound up staying over at his house.”

“So you fucked Fish?” Ben continues to push. Your face becomes slightly sterner, trying to give him the hint that you were done with his questions.

“No, not yet.”

“Yet? Oh my god oh my god you’re in love!” Benny cheers, and you feel scarlet spread across your cheeks.

“Oh god,” you groan, putting your head in your hands.

Benny and Will are silent for a second, to the point that you’re terrified of what they’re going to say next. So you’re honestly shocked when Will whoops loudly, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m so happy, god,” he spins you around a bit before setting you on your feet, and you’re still baffled at what’s happening. “You two are perfect.”

“Wait, why are you happy?” Benny asks his brother. You’re looking at him, wide eyed and scared, waiting for him to continue, “I’m the one that wins, dumbass.”

“Benny I-” you start before your brain fully processes what he said, “Wait, what did you win, exactly?”

Benny goes stock still as Will slaps him behind the head, such a familiar movement that you don’t understand how he isn’t able to dodge it at this point. You raise your eyebrow at them, waiting for an answer. They have a small silent argument, before Benny sighs loudly.

“Ok so, at the party the other night,” he begins, trailing off momentarily before you level him with a withering stare, and he continues, “We may have noticed that you and Fish hit it off real fast, so we uh, we may have made a tiny little bet about how long it would take you guys to get together.”

He says the last bit in a jumble of words, making it initially hard to understand him. And then, it clicks. Your mouth falls open, and you reach behind you to grab a pillow, lobbing it at the two of them.

“You motherfuckers!” you try to sound angry, but can’t help the laugh that undercuts your shouting. “Were we that obvious?”

“You were practically making out on the couch!” Will tries to take a chastising voice; it doesn’t work.

He cackles, narrowly ducking your first pillow projectile. He isn’t able to fully dodge when you launch yourself at him, pinning him to the floor. Since you were kids, the three of you (and sometimes your own brothers joined in) were well known for your play fighting. Some things never change, as evidenced by your current status when Benny joins in the pile. You suddenly find yourself pinned between the two massive Miller brothers.

“Ok boys, I love you but I can’t breathe,” you gasp between them. They take an extra moment to mess up your hair before relenting, helping you to your feet. “So, what was the wager in this bet you made?”

“50 bucks to the winner,” Benny puffs his chest out proudly, “And at exactly one week and 1 day, I am in fact the winner. Oh shit, I gotta call Santi.”

You roll your eyes, flipping him off as you settle into the cushions of the loveseat. Tired from your shenanigans, the three of you settle in to watch a movie. Only 20 minutes into it, your phone starts ringing. Yet again, you miserably fail at keeping a poker face when you see that it’s Frankie who’s calling you. You grin, leaping out of the seat to get some privacy. You take the steps quickly, answering as you shut the door of your room behind you.

“Hi Frankie,” you greet him, the smile evident in your voice.

“Hi pretty girl,” he responds, and you swear you can hear his grin over the line, “Wanted to hear your voice again.”

Even through the phone you find yourself blushing at his attention. You feel like a teenager again, like you should be kicking your feet and giggling.

“I can do you one better,” you respond, becoming slightly shy, “I know we just saw each other but wanna grab lunch? I know some good spots.”

“I’ll be there in 10,” is his simple response, and you internally cheer before hanging up. Over night, the air had gotten significantly more chilly, so you dress in what you hope is going to keep your ever-cold body warm. You slip on a pair of overalls and a plain gray sweater, comfy and cute. You bound down the stairs, a spring in your step as you pass the boys still sitting in the living room.

“Going to see your man friend?” Benny teases, “Tell Fish we said hi.”

“Be safe, make good choices!” Will shouts after you as you pull on your shoes and go to sit on the porch to wait for your ride. You’re sitting cross legged on the porch swing when you see the now familiar red truck pulling into the driveway. You can’t help the giddiness that you feel when Frankie steps out to greet you. You meet him halfway, and he holds his hand out to you, grinning.

“Were you waiting for me?” He teases. With you standing on the top step and him at the bottom, your heights were reversed, and you revel in it, taking the opportunity to grab his cheeks and plant a kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss with enthusiasm. It isn’t until you hear a ruckus behind the door that you part. Frankie peers around you, only briefly catching a glimpse at the Miller boys looking through the window at the two of you. This time, it’s Frankie’s turn to blush as he waves at Will and Benny. Even through the door you can hear them laugh.

“So, I take it they figured it out?” Frankie chuckles, grasping your hand and leading you towards the passenger side of his truck. He gives you your little boost before walking around to his own side.

“Yea I uh, I don’t have the best bluffing abilities,” you wince slightly, nervous that maybe Frankie wanted to keep this a secret. These thoughts disappear completely when you see his face, a soft expression that melts you.

“Fine by me, I like people knowing you’re mine.” Before you can fully react to what he has just said, he flips the truck in reverse, and you give him the annotated directions to a sandwich shop you frequented. You fall silent for a moment, before realizing that you have a lot of thoughts running through your head.

“You want me to be yours?” you smirk, trying your hand at his signature teasing. He swings his eyes over to you, catching the look on your face and grinning.

“What, don’t you wanna be mine? I thought you liked being my good girl.” You choke a bit on your breath at his words. He laughs at your reaction, reaching over to pat your thigh with his hand. “You are just so fun to tease.”

You don’t have time to respond as Frankie puts the truck in park and comes over to open your door. He grins at you as he helps you down, immediately lacing your fingers together, and walking into the restaurant. You’re waiting to be seated when you perk up on your tiptoes and lean close to his ear.

“For the record, I do like being your good girl,” you whisper, and relish in his responding noise, as if he choked on his own spit. You giggle to yourself as you’re walking to your table. Frankie pulls out your chair for you and you wink at him when he’s settled across the table.You fall into a casual conversation, undercut by your feet tangling together under the table. It’s new, what the two of you have with each other, and yet it feels so comfortable already. You try not to think about it too much.

It’s been 2 weeks since you and Frankie shared your first night together. Of those 14 days you’ve only been able to see each other four times, seemingly on complete opposite schedules. And every one of the days you didn’t see him was filled with a one track thought: Frankie, Frankie, Frankie. You feel like you should be embarrassed by how quickly he has cemented himself in your brain, but that is quickly dismissed when you see he is just as desperate.

The nights you spent together were filled with deep conversation, sharing things you hadn’t spoken outside of your closest people. He would always listen, and share just as much as you.

You, the youngest of 4; Frankie, smack dab in the middle of 3. Your older brothers: Noah, Oliver, and Theo; his younger brother, Nick, and older sister, Amelia. Frankie’s parents, married for 38 years and counting; yours, divorced since you were eight. The conversation flowed so naturally between you, spoken over the crackling of a fire in his living room, or whispered as you sat in the backyard where you first met.

Frankie, the gentleman that he always is, never pushed you beyond what you were comfortable with. Of the nights that you had seen each other, they always ended in a similar manner. You, straddling his lap, his fingers shoved down your pants. Him, groaning in pleasure as he buries his face in your center. That was as far as it ever went, though, your apprehension at crossing that final line ever present.

As you had shared with Frankie, you had only ever been that close with a handful of people, none of which had ever been good experiences for you. He understood completely, and that was almost enough to kill all your stress. Almost. There was still this little part, a tiny voice that questioned whether with him would be different. By the time Saturday rolled around, that voice had disappeared completely.

The air had dropped to a chill temperature, and you figured today was the last day to have a proper bonfire. After your shift you had stopped at the grocery store for s’mores ingredients. Will promised to grab some chopped wood from the gas station on his way home. And when you pull into the driveway to see everyone is already there, including Frankie, you can’t help but grin. You pop your head in the front door.

“I need a big strong man to help me with these groceries!” you holler at them. You see a head of brown hair pop up from the living room, and Frankie grins at the sight of you. He hurries towards you, the rest of the boys laughing at his eagerness. You have just enough time to brace yourself before he’s crashing into you in a bear hug. You can’t help but laugh like a maniac when his nose presses against your cheek. You can smell the beer on his breath and you realize they started the party without you.

“Good to see you,” he whispers as you walk out to where the groceries are waiting in the backseat of your car. Before you can open the door, Frankie has you pressed against it, a firm kiss on your lips. You moan, tangling your fingers in his hair as he devours your mouth with his own. You remain like that for as long as you can manage before having to breathe. He pulls away from your lips, panting and smiling lazily at you.

“Quite the welcome” you tease him, standing on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his nose. His face scrunches and he pats your ass before helping you with the bags in the backseat of your car. You chat as you unpack the groceries, trivial nonsense about your days. Before long, the five of you are outside, Will and Frankie building a fire while you and Santi set up the s’mores station. Once you finish you plant yourself in the hammock that has been your favorite spot for years.

“Gonna help, Ben, or just gonna sit on your ass?” Will grunts at his brother.

“Gonna sit on my ass,” Benny groans back, sinking deeper into the backyard couch. “Santi pushed me hard today, I can barely stand.”

”Aw, poor baby Benny,” Santi coos at him, and you can’t help but laugh at their dynamic. You honestly find it hard to remember that the five of you have only been hanging out for less than a month. And in that same thought, you startle at the fact that you had only known Frankie that long. But, looking at him, making you a s’mores and taking a sip from his drink, your heart beats out of your chest. He looks back at you, holding up the marshmallow to you for approval. You nod, and soon he’s joining you in the hammock.

“This seat taken?” he jokes, the movement of him sitting down rolling you towards the center of the hammock, almost into his lap. You laugh, a joyful sound as you try to reposition yourselves. It takes a bit of maneuvering but finally you sit side by side and he hands the sweet treat over. You take a bite, moaning in pleasure.

“You guys are disgusting,” Will teases from across the fire. The others chime in, razzing the two of you, but their smiles remain positive as they tease. Benny even winks at you, and you know that no matter how much they poke fun, they’re happy for you guys. And you know that you’re happy too. You finish your s’more and take a sip of Frankie’s beer. Without realizing how tired you are, you lean your head on his shoulder. And then you’re drifting off.

You wake to the soft swinging of the hammock, a warm body next to you and Frankie’s voice humming to the music still streaming from the speakers. You decide then and there that “Landslide” sounds better coming from him. You savor the moment, unwilling to open your eyes and end it. And then, you notice the distinct lack of other voices, and realize that it’s just you and Frankie out here. Stretching slightly to alert him that you’re awake now, you open your eyes and peer up at him through your lashes.

“Good nap, hermosa?” He speaks softly, voice sounding as content as you feel. You nod up at him and he smiles. “The boys wanted to go to the bar, figured you would be fine not tagging along.”

“Mmmm, much rather stay here with you,” you stretch further, the movement interrupting the balance of the hammock. You giggle as you’re rolled onto his strong chest, his arms banding around your waist to steady you. You become extremely aware of how much you can feel of him as you lay across his body. Without thinking, you slip your leg between his, bringing your center down onto his strong thigh.

Your movement does not go unnoticed by him, and he smirks, a dangerous thing that has you tipping your head up in desperation. He complies immediately, pressing his lips against yours with a groan. Shifting you up his body, and bending his leg to keep it pressed against you, he steals the breath straight from your lungs. The burst of pleasure that rips through you is overwhelming. You whine, delirious with the desire that makes your heart pound.

Frankie pulls away, just enough that you can’t quite chase them. His eyes are dark with lust, and they take in your face with hunger. Your swollen lips, panting breath escaping, pink tongue peaking out. You can feel his cock twitching underneath you, and without thinking you grind down, seeking friction on your aching clit. He snarls, an animalistic noise that sets you on fire.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispers, and your mind is made up when he pulls you back in for a bruising kiss.

“Please, Frankie,” you beg, “I’m ready, I’m ready, I need you to fuck me.”

In a flash, he’s standing and you’re wrapping your legs around his hips. He carries you through the house, and you give him directions to get to your room. You only have a moment to consider being anxious about the state of your room, the pile of clothes in the corner and your pale pink duvet. You’re immediately losing this track of thought when you find yourself flopped down on your bed with Frankie standing at the foot of it.

You take a second to really appreciate the sight of him as he pulls his shirt off. His jeans are low on his hips, and the unmistakable bulge is pressing against the zipper. You take in his broad chest, soft stomach and dark line of hair running down, down, down, to where he was now undoing his button. You sit up, pulling him to kiss you as you yank his pants down. He steps out of them and kicks them to the side, before pushing you back down on the bed and hovering over you.

“Hermosa,” he whispers, peeling off your shirt, eyes widening slightly at your lack of a bra, before continuing, "Linda, preciosa...”

You tip your head back and tilt your hips up until he’s pressed tight against you, nose tucked into your neck. He nips you with his teeth, and your answering gasp spurs him on. With a sharp grind of his hips he’s biting and licking his way down your neck, to the swell of your breast. Your breath is coming fast, hands finding their favorite place, buried in his hair.

“Fuck Frankie,” you pant, his name breaking off in a gasp when he wraps his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple. You start to squirm, begging him to keep going. He complies, mouthing further down your body until he’s at the edge of your sweatpants. Looking up, and seeing your affirmative nod, he unties them and eases them down your legs. His groan when you see you’re without panties as well is enough to make a rush of arousal run down your spine.

Frankie takes a moment to admire you, fully nude in front of him, before holding up his finger and bending down to his pants. You sit up on your elbows to observe him as he straightens up, holding a foil packet in his hand. Your heart starts hammering as you reach forward to palm him through his underwear. He groans, crawling over you to press a kiss against your chin and then your lips. You pull away after a moment, looking up at him as you start to tug at his remaining clothing.

“Eager, huh?” he teases, assisting you in pulling down his underwear. His cock springs out and your mouth waters at the sight, remembering how it had felt to have him on your tongue. You reach out, ready to take him in your hand. Fast as lightning, he grasps your wrist to stop you, tsk-tsk noises coming from his teeth. “Not yet, baby, gotta get you ready first.”

If you weren’t already soaking wet, his gruff voice and cockiness would have sent you over that edge. You allow yourself to relax, legs falling open as he settles between them, wide shoulders pushing your thighs even farther apart. You're dripping in anticipation, hips bucking when he runs a finger through your folds. You can’t keep your head up when he follows the same path with his mouth, licking up to your clit before sucking lightly. Your wanton moans fuel him, and he doubles the speed and pressure of his tongue before sliding two fingers straight into you.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, one hand twisting in the sheets while the other laces with Frankie’s. He squeezes your fingers, while flexing his own inside you, pressing against that blinding spot, “Fuck, yes, right there!”

He doesn’t stop until you explode beneath him, hips squirming despite his hand planting itself on your thigh. Even after you’ve caught your breath, he keeps going, pulling every last bit of pleasure out of you until you’re writhing in his grip.

“Feel good, baby?” he murmurs, “You ready for me?”

You nod, so hard that your ponytail begins to fall out, and reach for him.

“Yes, Frankie, please, I’m ready, I want you.” You ramble, watching with rapt attention as he rolls the condom down his length. He plants his hand next to your head, leaning down to catch your eyes.

“One more time, baby, tell me you want this.”

You could cry at his kindness, but instead you become infinitely more horny. You reach up to push his hair off his forehead, the locks slightly longer since you have known him.

“I want this, Frankie,” You assure him, “I want you.”

He groans and reaches down, guiding himself into you. The breath you had been holding is pushed out of you, feeling like he was rearranging your insides with every inch pushed forward. His head drops to your neck, seemingly just as affected as you are.Your whine as he fully sheaths himself inside of you is covered by his deep growl. You wind the fingers of one hand through his hair, while the other grips his shoulder tight.

“Fuck, jesus christ,” his voice is strangled as he pulls out for a moment before pushing in with a heavy thrust. He starts to repeat this motion, rocking into you over and over again until you feel like your eyes can’t stay open. You gasp when he hits that spot inside of you every time, fireworks exploding down your spine. “I’m not gonna last long baby, I need to feel you cum.”

He doubles down his efforts at your answering whimper, and his fingers find your bundle of nerves with ease, gliding across it over and over again until you can’t take it anymore. Your back arches, pressing your chest against his as you burst, breath stolen by his lips as you squirm.

“Oh my god, Frankie, oh my god,” you can’t help but mutter his name over and over, chanting it like a prayer as he chases his own high. It only takes a few more pumps of his hips before he’s still, and you can feel the muted warmth of him inside of you. He collapses on top of you, spent, and you relish in the firm weight of him. The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, just absorbing each other and catching your breath. After a while, Frankie moves to pull out of you, and with a soft kiss on your lips he stands and disappears into the bathroom. You have no strength to follow him, and no embarrassment when he returns with a wet washcloth to find you still naked, sprawled across the bed.

“You did so good, hermosa,” he whispers in reverence as he cleans you up. You grin at him, sated and tired. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Mmmm, no, it was perfect,” you murmur, sleep taking over you, “But to be honest, I think I like it when you’re a little rough…”

He chokes on his breath before laughing, a warm sound that settles deep in your belly. Neither of you bother to get dressed before he’s slipping into bed next to you. He pulls your duvet over the both of you, and tucks himself behind you. His strong arm wraps around you, and he plants a kiss on your cheek before reaching over to switch off the light.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you whisper in the darkness. You can feel his breath catch a bit against your back.

“Thank you, pretty girl,” he whispers back, “Now get some sleep.”

His statement is punctuated by you yawning, and with your hands intertwined, the two of you fall asleep.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #my writing #writing #frankie loml #pedro pascal fan fiction #some version of you #frankie

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tartelongan · 2 months

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give me all your tartelongan hcs

Tarte Tatin x Longan Dragon Cookie Headcanons!

Offff the top of my head!!!

[I headcanon Longan Dragon Cookie in the Cookie Run: Kingdom timeline to be sweeter and more caring. I have a particular reason for it! I headcanon Longan in Ovenbreak to be so bitter and angry because their (hc) child, Snapdragon Cookie, was either lost, poached, or taken because of Cookies!]

- Longan loves putting red ribbons on Tarte Tatin and tying her hair with them. They've had a few thousand, er, maybe million years to do whatever so I think they'd have a lot of skills- one of them being sewing! Lots and lots of ribbons and bows on the dresses, getups, armors, anything really that they make for her!

- Tarte Tatin likes the ribbons, but when her hair gets messy (she runs around and hunts dragons all day), she has to take them out. She ties them onto the Longan Eyes and Longan thinks it's cute.

- Speaking of which, Longan doesn't mind her hunting dragons because dragons themselves used to fight each other a LOT back in the day, and because the dragons she fights are the (kind of inferior, more animalistic and less civilized, sort of dragons) If anything, it makes them swoon, because what dragon doesn't want a woman that can kick their ass if need be? (cough, cough, Hollytaya)

- Longan met Tarte Tatin because they were looking for Snapdragon thinking the egg most certainly got cooked or sold or hatched or something, but instead found a whole ass dragon hunter casually taking care of their kid. They kind of awkwardly co-parent Snapdragon and Tarte Tatin does not vibe with Longan thinking they're acting really increasingly suspicious about her as time goes on but it's just Longan's pea sized dragon brain having a massive crush on her

(the headcanons will only get worse from here)

- Longan is a housewife /hj. they like baking and cooking and can't stop baking pies because their wife is a pie cookie and they think this is great

- Tarte Tatin can cook too but not bake very well (because it's very hard to bake a cake in the wilderness as opposed to making a stew or some jelly meat!) and so Longan tries teaching her how to bake because they love baking. I lied. Longan doesn't like baking they love baking.

- It took a long time to convince Tarte Tatin to move into the Longan palace.

- She falls in love with Longan because their attempts to win her over are with things that actually require skill to do (like making her a cannon or armor rather than just flexing their power).

- Tarte Tatin loves modifying her cannon and talks Longan's ears off about mechanisms and aerodynamics and trajectory and (Longan is very excited and takes all of it into account).

- Longan also loves putting roses all over Tarte Tatin. They have a flower garden.

- Tarte Tatin brings Longan random stuff she finds and they have a room of the palace where they put all of it (though most of it ends up in Longan's bedroom).

- Longan does not look into the future directly, but instead senses the general flow of things. They aren't a control freak because their kid isn't dead in my headcanon that I cry at night thinking about and tell myself is the truth. Longan's element is light just like Lotus has water and Pitaya has fire... etc. Also their servants are paid well and have a life outside of doing stuff for Longan.

- Longan gives Tarte Tatin immortality and powers over light via a dragon's bead like Pitaya and Fire Spirit. She, after then, uses a modified version of her cannon that shoots beams of light and also helps to protect the flow of life/Cookiekind.

- Longan's preferred affectionate nickname for Tarte Tatin is "Sweet Tarte". Tarte Tatin's for Longan is "Sunshine".

- Tarte Tatin's parents are alive but very, very old, with bad eyesight and can not tell Longan is a dragon. They've been told but they think it's some running joke.

- Snapdragon calls Tarte Tatin "mama" and Longan "papa"

- Longan didn't know Snapdragon was alive because his anxiety clouded his perception of the events to come (which also made meeting Tarte Tatin nicer, since he didn't expect it)

This took fifteen years, but yay! It's done, I threw my headcanons out there!

#cookie run #crob #crk #longan dragon cookie #tarte tatin cookie #cookie run kingdom #tartelongan

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snoopsnoop07 · 1 month

Text

GUIDO MISTA FANFIC

by sophie and phoenix (Owner of account is phonix btw)

😍

chat. this is satire🍆😆😍

super DUPA sad. don’t read if you're depressed!!!!

You were assigned on a mission with Mista. Not just because you guys were a couple but because both of you genuinely worked great together. You were walking with Mista to find the stand user.”honey bumkins… you shyly said “yeah boo boo bear?” Mista said with a growl, Grrr!! “I-I-I-I-I-I-..... want to know how it feels to ride an F150 in the future…” I say flustered with puppy eyes. “Also I'm scared of the super big mega ultra mythical rare fight with the supa dupa bad guy!!!!!” “zont worry my wittle kitten whiskers i will protect you no matter what!!!” mista said with a growl and whispers in my ear “we will win this fight…… with the power of love and friendship! Anything is possible…. I’ll also let you know how to ride the f150!” he smiles with a smile sweeter than jolly ranchers, Yummy! suddenly a stand user appears!!!! and guess who it is???? STEVEN PATRICK MORRISSEY AKA MORRISSEY!!!! AND HIS POWERFUL STAND CALLED “DRAKES DICK” (i was going to do a The smiths song but SOPHIE started to diss The Smiths). “WATCH OUT Y/N! OR ELSE A DOUBLE DECKER BUS WILL CRASH US” he gasps and jumps! YEOOWCH!!! SUDDENLY HE USES DRAKES DICK AND SWINGS IT AROUND MISTAS NECK CHOKING HIM!!!!! WOWZERS!!! You gasp and wings and wolf ears started to grow out of you. you grab a mic and look at Morrissey “Steven… this isn’t you.. stop harming him… or else you’ll get it lil bro” your eyes start to turn red. But before I could do anything I heard a fart away voice “boys……. don't…. cry….” the voice sounds closer “he's right behind me isn't he…” I look behind me and OMG. BOBERT SMITH FROM THE CURE (we love the cure chat) “morrussy this isn't you!!!” Bobart said “i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i know you can be kind.. and n-nice.. pls dont do this!!!” “Take my hand, '' Borbart says while reaching out his hand. Morrussy takes it and they fly away together on a double decker bus being in love on a friday while singing a loveson (but then chewsday came so they didn’t care anymore because Friday they are in love) . you were amazed but then you remember your sweaty hot alpha bae boo boo bear boyfriend.. MISTA!!!!! you ran over to him “BAE, BABY, SNOOKUMS, TEDDY BEAR, LITTLE PEBBlE, MY PUPPY, MY BEAUTIFUL SUNSHINE NUGGET !!!”you said with tears in your eyes. m-m-my omega.. mista said while coughing up blood. no!!! pls don't leave!!! YOU SAID. “y-you still didn't teach me how to ride a F150!!!!!” Mista coughs blood again and smiles “p-p-p-p-puppy….. I was... going to propose to you today actually…” I start to tear up more! he takes out a small box from his pocket and gives it to me “let ... let me make you the happiest person in the next life y/n…..” he says with tears bigger than tsunami waves filled with musty salt and seaweed. I nod forcing a jolly smile on my face. He kisses me with tongue and everything. he pulls away gently. but then. Atticus gives you backshots, The end. ANYWAYS GUYS. SUBSCRIBE TO OUR CHANNEL AND SEE YA NEXT TIME!!!! like and suscribe or you will turn into the red imposter!!!!

#jojo's bizarre adventure #x reader #guido mista #mista x reader #golden wind #jjba mista #jjba #jjba part 5

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waltwhitmansbeard · 4 months

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slow dancing turning into an intimate embrace (dealer's choice)

9. slow-dancing turning into an intimate embrace trying something new for the first time!

Tula has to admit, the humans have quite a number of nifty skills to teach the stoats. Cooking is a big one; Tula never would have guessed that causing a fire on purpose could result in anything other than disaster, but rabbit tastes incredible when browned and tossed around with what the humans call "spices." She's also become accustomed to getting around on motorized vehicles, which Tara claims are toys for human children but the stoats find incredibly useful regardless.

But dancing. Dancing is one that took Tula by surprise. She didn't get it at first, not like Jaysohn, whose natural physical abilities make him instantly a star when the music comes on. (Music is its own marvel. What is it? It feels like the blue, but...different. Better.) Tara shows her how to wiggle her body, tap her feet, bounce and leap and twirl, and okay, this is dancing. It's strange, but it's fun, even if Tula doesn't think she's any good.

She prefers watching the kids dance, anyway, Lila and Jaysohn and her nieces and nephew. They have such fun with it, throwing themselves around with abandon to what Tara calls "Wham!" and "Madonna." They tug her into their dance circles around the radio with cries of "Come on, Auntie T!" and "Stop being boring, Mom!" So she dances with them, because she is alive, she is alive.

Until Bennett walks in, fresh from a hunt and smelling like sunshine. She pulls up short, face getting hot. "Bennett! Hi! How are things!" Why does she sound like this?

Bennett's face furrows. "What is...happening?"

"It's dancing!" Jaysohn shouts over the music, spinning Rosie around on his feet. "It's fun!"

"Dancing?" Bennett's ears twitch, his head turning to better hear the song.

"Do you know how to dance, Bennett?" Tara asks. She's sitting on the floor of Last Bast back against the wall, toes tapping together as she watches the kids jump around.

"I...don't...think so?"

Just then, the song ends, and a new one starts, this one slower, sweeter, like honey, Tula thinks. Tara nudges her with her foot. "Go on, dance with him!"

Tula chokes. "What?"

"Go, give it a shot."

On her hind legs, Tula walks over to Bennett, who looks at her uncertainly. She extends her paws to him, which he takes, and then they start to sway, a slow, awkward turn that isn't really in time to the music. Tula isn't sure who's more uncomfortable of the two of them, but considering it's her family giggling mischievously behind them, she's gonna say she is.

But then Bennett murmurs, "This is nice," and Tula nearly trips over her own feet.

"Is it? I mean, it is. Yes. Nice."

Bennett is new to dancing, but somehow he's the one leading her around, a slow, gentle spin that's making Tula feel warm in new, confusing ways. Before she knows it, the music is stopping, but instead of stepping apart, Tula leans in, half-draped along Bennett, who curls his front legs around her in the first hug she's had from a man since she lost Geoffrey. They stand there like that, holding each other, for a few breaths, until there's a loud, "OOOOOOOOOOH, THEY LIKE EACH OTHER!" and Tula coughs, stepping back.

"Well. That was...okay I should go!" Before Bennett can say anything, Tula bounds away, fur on fire, suddenly very sure that this "music" really is its own kind of Blue, after all.

#ask #everystephoftheway #dimension 20 #burrow's end #dimension 20 fic #burrow's end fic #tula/bennett #is there a ship name? bula? tennett?

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peonierose · 1 year

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Hi Sweet P! Dropping in for a little Valentine's Day fun...

Bryce gives Luna a card for Valentine's Day. Does he pick out a mushy or funny one? Is there anything special he writes inside?

I’m a Sucker for You!

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Luna Auclair (F!OC)

Words: 1,400+

Rating: Fluff

Summary: Bryce and Luna spend some time on Valentine‘s Day (even though they’re not the biggest Valentine’s Day fans). With one or two presents in between.

A/N: Thanks so much @cariantha for this sweet ask love 💗 I came up with this little story, hope you’ll like it 💗

I also linked Lunas & Bryce’s engagement story called ”How were we ever strangers“ (if you’re curious 🥰)

Side note: I’m participating in the @choicesficwriterscreations for the Valentine‘s Day celebration.

The doorbell chimed. And I looked up from the papers I was grading to get up from the couch to get the door.

”Just a sec. Pregnant woman waddling to the door.“ I can hear shuffling outside the door.

I breathe out as I slowly walk towards the front door. No one said carrying twins was easy. With my hands on my 8 months pregnant belly, I huff out small breaths as I walk slowly. Waddling like a penguin is more like it.

I’m close to my due date. Only one month away from welcoming our two little angels into the world.

I open the door and only see a big bouquet of peonies in front of me.

Yellow checkered vans sneak out below and I grin. I know exactly who’s holding a bouquet of my favorite flowers.

The flowers get lowered to reveal a smiling Bryce.

I grin at Bryce and take the flowers from him before giving him a kiss that lasts longer and is sweeter than anything in this world. When we pull apart we grin at each other.

”They’re so pretty B thank you. You really know how to make a girl happy.“ I nestle my nose inside the flowers and my nose touches the soft, velvet petals and I inhale the scent of the floral bouquet of peonies. Sweet and intoxicating.

”You’re my only and favorite girl. Well, a woman really. Since you’re one hell of a sexy soon-to-be mama.“

Tears well up in my eyes.

He grins, kisses me on my forehead and walks inside our house. His soft lips linger for a second longer and I close my eyes relishing the feeling of Bryce being close.

The scent of his cologne and clean fabric softener wafted toward me. Settling something deep inside my soul.

I look up at him with a smile.

”I thought you were just getting breakfast. This is a lot bigger than breakfast.“

Bryce grins wickedly. Holding a bag from our favorite diner and puts it on the kitchen counter. I grin at him.

”I’m glad you like my surprise. I know Valentine’s Day is not exactly our favorite day. But I still wanted to give you some flowers. I thought adding chocolate was a bit much.“

He grins.

”Yeah. I have you as a dessert B.“

Be winks at me. His eyes glint like molten chocolate in the sunshine.

He walks into the living room as I put the flowers into a vase and put them on the kitchen counter.

Bryce looks at the papers on the couch and puts his hands on his hips. Glaring at me disapprovingly with arched eyebrows.

”Lunes! We talked about this. No more working. Meilani said to rest. That also means no grading papers.“

”Actually if I remember our convo correctly you talked. I just listened and nodded to the words that came out of your mouth.“

He sighs and shakes his head grinning, not sure what to say since he knows he can’t win this argument.

I grin at him and settle down into the couch cushions and put my feet up. Trying to find a position that won’t put the twins directly on my bladder.

Bryce sits down next to me and puts my legs over his. I sigh in contentment.

”That feels so good.“ I lie on the couch, eyes closed. Then I hear Bryce chuckle.

”By the way did you find the card tucked inside the flower bouquet?“

Making me re-open my eyes and stare at him drowsily and almost half into dreamland. Damn, I was dreaming of unicorns. Maybe I can draw one and be a bit more creative later.

”What card? I didn’t see a card.“

”Hold on I’ll get it.“

Bryce puts my legs gently on the couch and gets up.

He comes back with a lavender envelope and hands it to me. I sit up a bit and open the card tucked inside.

I read over the words.

”Today is Valentine’s day and I know it’s not your favorite holiday. Would you still be mine? Because to be honest Lunes I’m a sucker for you. Now and always.“

-Bryce

I look up and grin at him before I beckon him with a finger to lean in closer to me.

When he does I pull him towards me by his shirt and give him my thanks in a kiss. A mix of slow and sweet, but passionate at the same time.

He grins against my lips. And when he pulls back a glaze has filled his eyes. He’s still high from my kiss. I wiggle my eyebrows at him. Which makes him dive in for another kiss cupping my face into his hands.

He slowly pulls away and looks at me. Before he gets something out of his back pocket. And when he opens his hand around the object he reveals a lavender velvet box.

I look up at him with wide eyes.

”B?“ I say a question in my eyes.

He turns red and clears his throat. Clearly he’s nervous.

”I know we’ve been engaged for some time now and I always felt bad because I didn’t give you a ring to wear.“

Before I could object that a ring doesn’t symbolize the love I have for him, he held up his hands and I closed my mouth shut.

”I know what you’re going to say so hear me out. When you asked me to marry you all those months ago I was so happy. I was going to ask you to marry me on the same day, but you moved first and asked me before I could ask you. Making that day the happiest day of my life. But when I prepared to ask you, I didn’t have a ring back then. I’ve been looking to give you a ring ever since. Something that says this is you. But I wasn’t lucky with finding one, and it’s been weighing on me. Because we’ve told everyone we’re engaged. We’ve booked your cousins wedding planning business to help organize our wedding. But I don’t know I felt bad that you didn’t have a ring to show for it. So that’s when I got the idea to pay your friend Jordan Miles a visit, you know the one who makes custom jewelry pieces. And I asked him to make you this.“

He opens the box and I gasp when I see the ring inside. Completely at a loss for words.

Its oval, white gold shape spoke immediately to me. A green gem nestled in the middle. Surrounded by a ring of white gold and pastel pink stones.

Bryce takes it out of the box and slips it onto my finger.

”Oh my god B. Why? When I asked you to marry me it wasn’t because I expected a ring and show it around. Not that I’m not going to showcase this baby.“

I wiggle my eyebrows and he laughs and kisses my hand with the ring displayed on it.

When he looks up I cup his face into my hands, I brush a strand of his longer getting hair out of his face. Gazing up at him, not having expected an engagement ring. It’s like I said I didn’t need a ring to show my love for Bryce. Love isn’t equal to materialistic things. It’s in the everyday of our lives. Sharing breakfast together, laughing about silly jokes. Falling asleep next to each other. That's love for me.

”What did I do to deserve you?“ I stare into his deep caramel brown eyes. Feeling so many emotions tugging at my heart. Focusing on the soft and mellow ones.

”You loved and accepted me for who I am. You make me a better person Lunes. I want to live out the rest of my life with you by my side and our beautiful twins,“ he puts his hands on my stomach and I cover them with mine.

”I love you B. More than anyone else. Because you take me with my flaws and all. I’ve never expected to feel this strongly about anyone. Yet here you are loving me every day, surprising me with flowers and gifts, not just on Valentine‘s day but every single day. I couldn’t be more happy to have you by my side.“

I trace my fingers over his soft lips as we smile at each other. Reveling in the feeling that this beautiful, successful, super hot man is mine. And that I’m his.

We’re completely encased in our own little bubble. Made of love, trust, and joy.

It’s moments like these that make me feel most alive.

When we’re together. Alone. With no interruptions. Just surrounded by the love that keeps pouring out of us and fills our souls with so much light.

Bonus:

#I‘m a Sucker for You!#Bryce Lahela #Luna Auclair #Open Heart #cfwc valentine 2023

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aspenwritesstuff · 1 year

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Part Three : Clueless

🌹prev🌹masterlist🌹next

🌹taglist: @drhsthl @propertyoftoru

You found yourself wishing you could understand how anyone with even half of a heart could look at Lee Felix and describe the sweeter-than-sugar man as anything close to offputting. Even in your jaded, pessimistic state of being, his smile was an instant surge of serotonin. This woman would be so, so lucky to be the recipient of such pure, selfless love.

🌹warnings: alcohol consumption/drinking, mention of creepy male behavior,

🌹w/c: a lil over 2k, my laptop broke and mobile won’t let me copy and paste the whole thing in one go and I do NOT wanna go paragraph by paragraph. (Translation: author is lazy.)

🌹a/n: hello, lovelies. 🌹 I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too terribly long. Thank you for sticking around and reading the newest part of Prove Me Wrong! It means a lot to have you here.

I’ve made a separate post about my intentions with writing this particular piece, but wanted to include here that I am 100% NOT abandoning this work. I love it dearly, I promise! I will, however, be working on a few of my WIPs that have been heavy in my thoughts lately, so please be patient as I work on multiple fics at a time.

I hope that as I publish more of my stories that they receive just as warm of a welcome as PMW has so far. Every time I get feedback it makes my lil author heart go BA-DUMP so hard, I nearly cry.

You’d held many titles throughout your lifetime; daughter, friend, and author to name a few. Today, however, a new skillset was going to be put to the test.

Matchmaker.

As per your agreement, Felix was to be gently guided through sparking a conversation with the object of his affections - preferably one that took place on the same side of the bar that would consist of more than a refill request.

Felix had seemed skeptical of the plan you’d sent to him after he’d gotten home from the previous night’s pottery painting. It seemed pretty straightforward to you, though you weren’t the one with the crush-induced anxiety surrounding the situation.

Step one was getting Felix to be in the same area, off the clock, in clothes other than his uniform. You figured that would exponentially up the chances that she’d actually take notice of the man desperate for a single crumb of her attention. To get her to stop seeing Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender rather than Lee Felix, the man with a contagious smile with a heart - one that he wanted to give to her, at that - full of the warmest sunshine.

It wasn’t that you thought Ryujin was shallow, though. It was admittedly easy, as an intoxicated bar-goer out with friends, to not even register the features of the one preparing your liquor. You of all people could relate to the hazy way they’d be remembered after the night ended. At least this gave you an advantage in knowing how to change the perception.

Thanks, post-breakup alcoholism.

Step two was coaching the well-meaning but admittedly hopeless Felix through a conversation with his crush - preferably a coherent and confident one, but you weren’t going to hold your breath. The poor guy did blush simply from saying her name, after all. You’d told Felix the three keys to a great introduction, pulling directly from the way love interests would often meet in your novels; brevity, humor, and mystery.

He shouldn’t overdo it, no matter how receptive she seems. Felix had tried to argue that he should jump on the opportunity to speak with her, especially after how long he’d waited, but you’d quickly countered. Interest is a fickle beast, easily deterred by a conversation that dragged on for a few minutes too long.

You’d rather her wish you’d said more than wish you’d stopped talking.

After your blunt explanation, he was quick to change his tune - even going as far as earnestly calling himself your humble student. Which then brought you to the second rule of introductions - humor.

You wanna be funny, not creepy. No pickup lines, no matter how clever or cute you think they are.

He’d replied quickly with near instantaneous contradiction of his self imposed title.

None? 😢 Not even if it’s really cute?

You’d smiled then, picturing the pout on his gentle face as he mourned the loss of what you assumed he’d considered treasured flirtations.

Absolutely not.

The telltale dots of what likely was an argument appeared for only a second, vanishing as soon as they’d arrived - almost like a signal of Felix’s acceptance of the rule.

You are a man whose name she doesn’t know approaching her in a bar. Save the cheesy lines until she’s comfortable.

He understood then, shamelessly admitting that you had a fantastic point that he - of course - hadn’t considered. It wasn’t anything to be criticized for. It was simply just his innate privilege as a man to not have that incessant fight-or-flight response when approached by someone of the opposite sex.

After a far-too-complicated discussion, Felix had agreed to give exchanging his cheesy, over the top humor for subtlety a shot. It was bordering on adorable, the way that he clung to each word of advice you offered. He’d thanked you at least twenty times for your wisdom, and you hadn’t even gotten to the final rule yet.

When it came to mystery, you had made it abundantly clear that there was a vast difference between dishonesty and leaving someone guessing.

Do: Be genuine and honest. Don’t: Give every single detail. Timing is everything.

A vivid image of a puppy-esque tilt of his fluffy head projected into your mind’s eye as you read his reply.

What timing? How much is too much detail?

His near-palpable panic was enough to encourage you to explain meticulously, if only just to ease his obvious nerves.

Let’s use me as an example, okay? If you asked what I did for a living, I would just say that I’m an author. Not the genre, not how many books I’ve published, not what I’m currently working on. Just that I’m an author.

As for the timing? Once the conversation is easily flowing and you can tell that she’s into it, you need to excuse yourself.

You giggled at the row of horrified-looking emojis you’d earned from your explanation, shaking your head as you read the incredulous words Felix had sent.

Isn’t that rude? Getting her invested in conversation just to leave her hanging???

You cut off the ellipses denoting he wasn’t done questioning your methods, shaking your head as your thumbs darted across the keys.

No, Felix.

Not if you give her a means to continue the conversation.

At this point, you weren’t certain why his naivety continued to shock you - but, yet, it did. You supposed it just went to show that he truly wasn’t lying when he said he was clueless when it came to love.

I don’t get it…if I walk away we won’t be talking anymore!

A deep breath in, exhaled slowly through your nose helped you maintain the polite, scholarly approach you’d taken thus far.

Your phone number, Felix.

“I really hate to cut this short, but if you’d like to continue this conversation later here’s my number,” then smile, wave, and walk away.

Then what?

You wait.

Just...wait?

Just wait.

The third and final step of the Help-Felix-Get-The-Girl plan was the simplest, but arguably the most important: being in the same place at the same time. Luckily, Felix had let you know that she typically came into the bar around 8 on Fridays. You’d decided to let his eavesdropping slide, knowing his intentions were undoubtedly pure - fueled only by his sweet, schoolboy pining after Ryujin. Besides, you didn’t want to resort to stalking her socials like some kind of love-crazed maniac, so his insight had truthfully saved you some trouble.

All that was left was to hope - even pray, to whatever deity might listen to your plea - that Felix could pull it off.

Friday evening, a quarter past six, a gentle knock came from your front door. You peered through the peephole pointlessly, knowing for close to certain that you’d be met with the nerve-wracked face of Felix on the other side. You had, after all, agreed on 6:15 to meet up before the main event.

Door now opened wide, you offered him your best cheeky smirk before stepping aside for him to enter, “Come on in, Romeo.”

He simply nodded, eyes wider than those of a deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler as he anxiously gulped, Adam's apple bobbing noticeably above the neckline of his black v-neck tee.

“Loosen up, Felix,” you coached jokingly, shutting the door and following him to the couch. He’d already taken a seat on the edge of a cushion, elbows resting on his knees with his face in his hands, “Being scared won’t do anything for the outcome.”

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, shifting his weight to run both hands through his tousled tresses before looking to the side.

You met his uncertain gaze as you sat next to him, offering a reassuring pat to his shoulder as you realized this wasn’t just petty nerves over speaking to this woman. Blatantly ignoring your realization that it was much more muscular than you’d ever given any thought to, you allowed your palm to land flat on the empty space between the two of you as you sighed, “Felix, look at me.”

He mimicked your exhale, though his was much more defeated than exasperated, before turning to meet your waiting gaze. His bottom lip trembling slightly as he sucked in a deep breath made your heart ache, empathy coming far too easily for the kindhearted man before you. He swallowed hard, as he had upon his entrance, eyes swirling with what you could only describe as fear.

“What are you so worried about?” you nearly whispered. He had been much more rattled than you’d initially noticed, causing you to have to fight against the rising bile of guilt in your gut for your teasing.

He took a shuddering inhale before sighing deeply, shoulders slumping from their prior position - tensed next to his ears - as he responded softly, “I just…God, this is stupid,” he ran a hand through the ever-increasing messiness of blonde atop his head before continuing, “I don’t wanna screw this up,” he admitted, leaning his head back against the couch before continuing.

“I always say something dumb, or come on too strong,” you nodded as he explained the reason for his uncharacteristically cloudy disposition, avoiding interjection - even in the form of a hum - to provide him with your undivided attention, “Even when I’m not trying to, I somehow manage to just…put people off, y’know?” He shook his head as he leaned back into his hands, curtain of flaxen hair hiding what was undoubtedly a dejected expression as he whispered a broken, “I think there’s just something wrong with me.”

“Lix,” the nickname rolled off of your tongue without a second thought, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He peered at you with a slow turn of his head, cheek pressed into his palm giving his already full lips a dramatized pout, “You don’t have to say that, I know –”

“I’m not lying,” you cut him off, brows knitting together as you held his gaze firm with your own, “There really isn’t anything wrong with you,” a gentle smile that you hoped was reassuring found its way to your lips as you explained, “I think that the world is just very, very gray - and that you,” you poked his nose with the pad of your index finger, earning a noncommittal grin as you continued, “are very, very bright.”

Felix’s grinning had morphed into beaming as his freckled cheeks turned pink at the compliment. He’d released his face from his palms, turning his body more towards yours with ever-straightening posture as though each word from your mouth was filling an invisible meter of confidence.

“So, yeah…there’s nothing wrong with you. People just aren’t used to a person as unabashedly vibrant as you, Felix.”

“You’re really nice, you know that?” he said simply, prior insecurity in his voice replaced with wonder, his smile not once faltering.

“Don’t get sappy on me now, Lee,” you warned with a playful ruffling of his hair. You stood from your spot, it now being your turn to have reddened cheeks, to pour a cup of coffee in the kitchen. You weren’t even thirsty, you just hoped to hide the way his genuine compliment had affected you.

Cup in hand and cheeks back to their presently scheduled lack-of-crimson, you faced him again with a smirk, “Now, let’s get you ready. You’ve got a lady to woo.”

“Y/N, I’m not so sure about this!” Felix called, voice laced with anxiety, from the bathroom. You’d sent him in with a few outfits you’d borrowed from a less-than-willing, bribed-with-cleaning-his-place Jisung.

“I’m sure you look just fine Lix!” the reassurance you’d tried to convey in your voice was mostly drowned out by the volume at which you had to speak from the kitchen.

The stovetop clock read 7:13, reminding you that you had but a half-hour to get Felix to the bar.

“I dunno, Y/N…” he murmured, almost unheard as you made your way towards the bathroom door.

“Lemme see,” you cooed, hiding your excitement for his mini-makeover as best as you could.

Silence.

“Felix, c’mon, I still have to do your hair. Just show me!” you’d hoped the reminder that there was yet more to do would encourage him.

You were met simply with a deep sigh, and more silence.

“Lee Felix, so help me I will kick this door in!” You wouldn’t, no. But he didn’t know that.

“Fine, fine!” his words came out in a hurried slur, followed soon after by the light ‘click’ of the bathroom lock, “You just…can’t laugh, okay?”

“Why would I laugh?” you asked, suppressing a very inopportune giggle at the request. You understood the nerves, though. Meeting up with your crush? Definitely the right time for them.

“Just…promise?” Despite the depth and rasp of his voice, he sounded so small in that moment. He sounded like a child, afraid of scolding if they were truthful. You found yourself with heartstrings pulled just enough to soften your eyes - and tone.

“I promise, Lix.”

With your assurance, Felix slowly opened the bathroom door and peered his head out. Upon witnessing your genuine expression, he nodded his head and fully appeared in the doorway.

Why he’d thought you would laugh was beyond your comprehension. The fitted black button-up you’d provided him hugged him in the most flattering way, the top two buttons undone to show his unexpectedly toned neck and chest. The sleeves were rolled to just below the elbow, keeping the otherwise business-like look casual enough for a bar.

The deep blue jeans he’d brought himself, uncertain of the way Jisung’s may fit after realizing he had a tiny waist, we’re held up by a simple black belt. They, too, fit in such a way that it brought attention to just how in-shape he was. The shirt was only half tucked on one side, furthering the facade of a casual night out.

You hadn’t realized you were staring until your gaze connected with his concerned expression, “I told you I wasn’t sure…” he started, looking down as he shuffled his feet.

“You look so handsome, Felix.”

His expression morphed into one of shock as his cheeks burned under your earnest stare. He stammered for a moment, seemingly taken aback by the deadpan compliment. Even you were surprised with the ease of which it left your lips, almost before you’d even acknowledged just how good he looked.

“Th-thank you,” he whispered, shaking his head quickly as though to reset his mind.

You swallowed hard, not trusting your words as you simply nodded once and slid past him into the bathroom. He was a quick study, Felix, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid as soon as he saw you grab the comb from the countertop.

You weren’t sure why you felt nervous to reach out and touch his hair, a heavy weight dropping further into your stomach with every inch closer the comb got.

But, eventually you did manage to straighten up his unruly mane, neatening his part and tucking a few strands strategically behind his ears.

You stifled a shiver when the side of your hand grazed his cheek.

He sat silently, not uttering a single complaint while you worked. You were torn, though, between finding comfort or nerves in that silence.

“Done,” you acknowledged before setting the comb down, stepping back from Felix so he could catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

You’d have thought he’d gotten a completely new style by the way his eyes widened upon looking. He gingerly touched his bangs, brows furrowing - likely due to concern of messing it up - before he broke into a signature grin.

“Y/N, you gotta teach me how to do this!” he suddenly shouted, giddiness replacing any lingering doubt he’d felt throughout the preparations, “I didn’t think my hair could lay this nicely without gel! You’re a genius!” he giggled as he leaned in closer to the mirror, turning his head side to side to take in each detail.

“All I did was part it, Lix,” you said through a smirk, laughter hinting at the ends of your words, “But I’ll show you sometime.”

He grinned in reply before checking his phone, back straightening seriously before he squeaked, “We’ve gotta go! It’s time!”

You nodded your agreement, smiling warmly at the excited man before you. His excitement was contagious, warming your heart like the sun on the frostbitten grass of an October morning.

His warmth was undeniable, and everything was going so smoothly.

As you got into the passenger seat of his truck, he started the engine and turned to you - expression looking a bit guilty - before tilting his head, “Are you sure you wanna wait in the truck?”

“Lix, it’ll be fine, just remember what I told you,” you reassured him with a gentle look.

“You’ve helped me so much…” he started, pulling out into the street, “I guess…I guess I just don’t want you to have to just wait alone.”

You resisted the urge to ruffle his hair after all of your hard work, opting instead to smirk and tease him with a reminder, “You’re going there to get the girl, Lix, I don’t think you should be escorting another woman.”

“I s’pose you’re right…” he agreed, though resistantly.

“Of course I am,” you said with a poke to his freckled cheek, just as he pulled into a parking spot, “Now, go! Your love awaits.”

He gave you a grateful smile before getting out, leaving the truck running so you could have music and heat.

As he glanced back from the front entrance, you gave him a thumbs up - which he returned - before watching him disappear into the bar.

Your face fell as soon as he was out of sight. Everything was going exactly as it should, and all you needed to do now was wait.

So why, as you watched the well-dressed silhouette of Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender disappear as a patron into his establishment, were you so restless? Why did you sit with the weight of the world in your gut?

“Good luck, Felix,” you whispered to no one, clutching your phone in your hand as though an update from Felix were all that mattered in the world.

And, though you had meant it, the words that left your mouth only felt heavier.

#prove me wrong #lee felix #lee felix x reader #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz fic #lee felix romance #lee Felix smut #author has been Mia but is back ok 🥹

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darkhymns-fic · 11 months

Text

Being an angel is pretty inconvenient, huh? (Ch. 2)

Lloyd tries to recover from the trauma of his new wings' transformation. But, there was something more important he needed to do.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: T Word Count: 2292 Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week 2023, Day 2: Birthday Present. Very angsty! Warning for description of injuries ahead.

Before all this, Lloyd had been trying to make Colette’s birthday present in secret.

It wasn’t easy to do so during their travels, not unless he stayed up late, making certain that Colette was already fast asleep. His ideas for her present would flit all over the place, changing every night. An animal figurine carved from wood, of one of the many dogs she had befriended on their first journey. Or a bracelet with precious gems inserted within the chain. It could match with the necklace she still wore, hidden beneath her dress to rub against the bands of her key crest.

But with the amount of pain he felt now, Lloyd doubted he could even pick up a whittling knife, let alone make anything.

“Lie still, okay?” he would hear Colette say at times, her touch pressing against the middle of his back. It hurt when she did so, despite how gentle she was. He would then fall beneath the dark waves to find some relief from the pain of his new wings.

These stupid, stupid things.

Lloyd had never really liked his wings in the first place. Always much wider than they needed to be, and when he flew with them, they could almost feel unwieldy, like giant broadswords that he tried to lug around. But it only made him use them more, made him want to get the hang of them. Once the pain of them had gone away, he had rushed headlong into using his wings. Even when Colette had warned him, he still used them for short bursts, for small moments in time. But he always overdid it, like now when he used so much of is mana to grab at the little struggling animal in the water.

Through the haze, he would try to see what his wings had become.

His wings could barely even be called that now, looking almost like skeletal remains. Most of the white feathers on them had fallen off their frame. He could see the jutting bones that stretched high, the sharp angles they made, like some kind of ruined canvas. He hoped that what he saw wasn’t real, that he was just dreaming.

Then he would wake up, and find himself in Colette’s arms, his back so, so heavy.

Around Colette and himself, he would see strips of gauze spread around them like bed sheets. Bits of feathers stuck onto her hands, his feathers, which no longer were of blue filament, but a solid white, dyed pink and gray from both his blood and the river. He felt her lay him carefully, so very carefully on his side so that his wings wouldn’t get in the way of his body.

“How long…” he started, and was already done. He barely had energy for much else.

“Just a few days,” Colette said, and he could hear in her voice that tinge of uneasiness. She was strong, but he could tell she was at her limit with this. “Are you hungry? We have a few gels if that’s all you can swallow.”

“So tired…” he said, then raised his head to her. “…of gels. Too sweet.” Colette always liked the sweeter ones the most.

“Then maybe soup? I made some for Blippy too, and he liked it.” She smiled, and it was like sunshine after a rainstorm. Still, his mind paused.

“Wait…Blippy?”

“Oh! That’s the name of the kitty.” Colette laughed a nervous laugh, the kind she did when she had revealed something she was sure was much too childish. “I thought it fit him.”

Lloyd tried to turn and find the shape of Blippy, and right there, by Colette’s knee, the animal looking up at him with soft and golden eyes.

“Heh…Blippy…cute…” And just like that, he passed out again, but easier this time. Not in a mess of feathers and blood, but with a tenderness around him, where the edge of promised pain was still a distance away now.

He kept thinking about the time that passed. Had it been a few days? A week?

Maybe he still had time to make the present. Colette’s birthday was just after the start of spring, when the cloud patterns of the sky changed more frequently, when the flowers by his bedside would finally start to bloom after a dry winter.

All he had to do was heal faster. And wasn’t that an odd thing about angels that Kratos had mentioned before?

“Like Exspheres, Cruxis Crystals shape our mana to do things beyond what our bodies are normally capable of. They can make us stronger or faster. They can even make it easier for us to recover with the aid of healing artes.” He couldn’t remember when this was said—maybe when he had been staying at Dirk’s home. But the words floated to him in sleep, half-convinced Kratos was there by his side again along with Noishe, who always whined for the man’s pets.

“But with Cruxis Crystals, they help use the power of flight by forming wings, and we can stop our bodies’ biological clock to never age, or need sleep, or even need food. We can also heal most major wounds, for the most part, all on our own.” And here, there would be a small chuckle, and maybe Lloyd remembered that the most, because it was something Kratos rarely ever did. “So my wound from your blade must have been serious indeed.”

With his injuries, anyone else would have gone to find a healer, perhaps in one of the villages they had passed through. Lloyd couldn’t see it, but he knew how his back must have burst open to accommodate the new wings that were made of cartilage and bone instead of mana. How his shoulders must have shifted to adapt to it. How his tendons must have snapped.

But Colette said the only thing that would be left was scars, if even that.

“It’s our Exspheres, isn’t it?” Colette had murmured, as she once again shifted him to be more comfortable, hands just out of reach of his wings, in case any small touch would send him shivering. She had no idea how her words echoed another. “If we didn’t have these, then…”

Then he wouldn’t have had these wings in the first place.

Maybe this was the consequence of using his more and beyond what he should have done. Once, he had wanted to throw his Exsphere away, but someone precious had died for it. In the end, he just wanted to keep one part of his original family close, while another was so impossibly far away. It was pure selfishness.

No matter what, these wings were here to stay.

If Lloyd guessed right, they had camped at this spot for over a week by now. Down near the river where the kitten had almost drowned, by the smattering of trees where apples hung from their branches, where sometimes he saw Colette reach up for, doing the best she could without tripping in the attempt. Occasionally, there was sun, more felt than seen, heating up bare skin as Colette would help nurse any hurt away. It was hard to tell time, with the way he kept slipping in and out of consciousness like this.

Lloyd always left his projects until the last minute, no matter what it was. He had done sketches of Colette’s possible bracelet, had experimented with different animal poses in his whittling, to see what would stick. And now he could barely see straight, could barely even move his hands to grasp at anything at all. All that he felt pride in doing had everything to do with his hands, but the pain from his back spread throughout his body like poison, making his fingers stiffen, making his palms feel as if they were on fire.

He didn’t want Colette’s birthday to be full of worry and fear, to be full of work to heal his broken body and wings, to watch over him in this same spot in the wilderness, so far away from civilization. He had to heal faster, yet why did he feel he could barely move still, even now?

Every time his eyes opened, he could already feel them, weighing him down, loose feathers powdering the grass beneath him. And then he’d shut them again, more tired than he had ever felt in…forever. Eventually, the pain faded. Slightly, just slightly.

At one point, he heard a soft sound in the corner.

“Ah, Blippy! Not so loud, shh…” Lloyd shifted, blinking his eyes open, slow in every motion. Huh…Blippy?

Oh, that’s right. She had named the kitten. She was always so good with names…

He tried to see where it was, but all he saw at the edge of his vision was a wingtip, white and no longer stained. He focused on Colette then, as much as he could.

“How are you feeding him?” he asked, his voice feeling hoarse, scratching against his throat. The same way his wings scratched against the bone inside him. Stop, stop.

Colette, thankfully, was near him. She sidled even closer, pushing a lock of blonde hair over her ear. “We still have some of Noishe’s food in our packs. I guess we forgot to give it back to Dirk when we dropped him off at your house. But, Blippy seems to like it.”

Lloyd smiled, and it didn’t take as much effort to do so as he worried. Not like with every other part of his body. “Heh… that’s good thinking, Colette…”

The wind blew, making Lloyd shiver. It felt colder for some reason…

Lloyd looked down, realizing just then that he was shirtless. That made a lot more sense now. How long had he been that way?

He snuck a quick glance towards Colette, who just then looked nervous, here and there. “Hm?”

“Ah… I’m sorry, Lloyd. I’m really sorry!”

Her habit of apologies lifted Lloyd from out of the fatigue (and the guilt, and the frustration and so much else) he had been stuck in for too many days straight. Somehow, he got himself to sit up, though not without struggle, not without his legs feeling like they were on pins and needles. At least, maybe he had stopped bleeding now. “What is it? I don’t get why you’re saying sorry…”

Shouldn’t he be the one to say that instead?

Biting her lip, Colette reached over to the side and then, with all the guilt she carried in the entire world, brought out something red and neatly folded. It took Lloyd a moment to realize what it was.

“When…your wings changed, you still had on your jacket and shirt, so…” Her fingers brushed against the fabric with care, tracing the twin rips across the back of his red jacket. They were like gashes, as if someone had taken a knife and tore straight through it. “I don’t know how to mend clothes like Sheena… But, maybe Dirk can fix it later? When we go back… I’m sorry.”

Lloyd stared for just a bit longer. With her being near, he just couldn’t help himself, and laid his head on Colette’s shoulder, hair brushing against her cheek.

“Dork…you know I have a dozen of these, right?”

Yet he knew there was more to it than just the ruined jacket. Colette’s fingers ran across that fabric so tenderly. The last time she did that was when he had lent her one of his own.

“It’s not just that…” Colette said, still looking away. But her voice was near, soft and thrumming down his spine with warmth. “They were…so stuck to your wings, too. I tried so hard to remove them, but… I know it hurt. I know I was hurting you.” She clung the jacket closer, as if she was about to embrace it then. “Sometimes you screamed, and I didn’t know what to do. But I also couldn’t leave it like that on you…”

The wings on his back still felt so raw.

Lloyd’s hands could barely make any motion to move, wanting to hold her badly. So he left them where they were, half-folded on the ground. But he wished he had more strength to hug Colette close, to reach for her hands and feel her skin against his fingertips.

“I can barely remember that,” he admitted. “I wish I could, then I could have told you then that it was fine. I’m sorry I left you alone.”

Colette still looked down at the jacket. “Lloyd…”

He was getting sleepy again. He pressed his forehead against her cheek, trying his best to stay awake, but already failing. “I’ll make it up to you…for your birthday…I really will…”

Maybe a hairpin, with the engraving of a flower, since she hadn’t been allowed to wear those when she was a Chosen. It sounded nice to him, if he could just get his hands to work.

“Ah, it’s okay. Maybe next year?” Colette turned to him, smiling, one hand reaching to gently press a hand to his cheek. “Here, you shouldn’t fall, just in case.”

Lloyd vaguely shook his head. “No, we still have time…before your birthday next month…” Less weeks to go, but he could still finish something. All he had to do was make his hands move.

But he saw the expression pass Colette’s face—briefly, with a tinge of melancholy. She tried to smile it away, but he already guessed. The air felt warmer. The flowers that gathered at the base of nearby trees were in full bloom.

Oh, he thought just then. I missed it.

He fell asleep again, as his hands and back continued to ache, as his wings felt overwhelming above him.

He really did have the worst memory.

#tales of symphonia #colloydweek2023 #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #fanfiction #multichapter

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cevans-is-classic · 2 years

Text

Art Of Teduction

Ted Lasso x Enby Reader

Part Two: Teductive Technique

18+ only, please. Warnings: Language and references to sex.

More found over on My Masterlist

Ted/Jason can be found here dears

"Yeah, I'll be busy till lunch." You shout, turning away from Higgins to swing your office door open and —

"Howdy, Sugarplum didn't guess you'd be here." Ted was lying long ways on the couch, hand propped on his hip, leg pulled up at the knee as he rested his head on his fist.

You stared at him for a beat, "It's my office Ted."

That earned you a smile, large ear-to-ear grin as Ted patted the small space in front of him. "Means you belong right here then." A flush crept its way up your neck to settle hot in your cheeks. You knew he was joking. His own blush showed the level of embarrassment that tickled him inside, but you couldn't stop the thought of joining him on the couch.

"It's not even lunch yet, Theodore. " Ted's eyes widened as his lips part in a quick intake of breath.

You bit your lip, moving towards your desk and ignoring the man in front of you. For months, the flirting had been going back and forth, off and on, Ted saying something that genuinely made you melt. When you could think straight again, you'd smile back at him and call him Theodore until it left him speechless and red in the face.

Your desk wasn't large. Keeley had a special desk that she hunted down until she'd found it, and when she moved out of the office, she'd tried to leave it behind. It had been too much for you — feeling you were sitting at the desk of someone you couldn't replace properly — so you switched it out for something simple.

That didn't stop your mind from racing as you leaned against it to catch your bearings. Ted was still resting on the couch behind you, probably giving you a wholesome smile while you thought about him bending you over this simple fucking desk.

"I saved some biscuits for you." His voice was closer, heat warming your back as he moved behind you and sat the little pink box down. "The peppermint kind you fancied. I figured someone as sweet as you didn't need anything sweeter."

You spun around meaning to tell him 'thank you and have a good day,' but when you were facing him — Ted's eyes were a gorgeous brown that reminded you of warmth, drinking cocoa by a fire or cool tea during a summer day. The softness of them being warmed by the smile that graced his face, pulling you in and letting you feel the strength of his presence.

"Ted-" He stepped closer, his arm coming up to wipe something off your cheek, thumb brushing the skin, dragging the calloused pad over until it touched your ear.

"You're redder than Santa's suit, Honey." His drawl was thick, falling from his lips with a syrupy sweet roll of his tongue across his bottom lip.

"That happens when men try to seduce me before lunch." You aimed for a sarcastic retort, but you sounded breathless, aching for Ted to kiss you with that damned mouth.

His fingers pushed through the hair at your ear. "Well, now, who said anything about seducing? I wanted to give you a break after running around all week."

Those brown eyes glanced at your mouth and back up without hesitation, "I'll leave ya to it then, aye Sugar." He stepped back, shoulders coming up and hands going to his pockets, and you saw the wall being built back up brick by brick, pulling him away from you right before your eyes.

Without thought, you gripped his arm, stopping him mid-step. He paused and looked down at your hand, his own coming over to cover your fingers.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Ted was quiet — which is odd — with a pensive look on his face as he squeezed his hand around yours. Those long fingers were warm, solid over your hand, making you think about kissing each knuckle, holding his palm to your cheek, and resting against it. Ted was sunshine; he was a cool autumn day sitting by a fire. Between his words of encouragement and his fight to allow someone to know how he feels, you've never met someone like him. He was the most imperfectly perfect person you'd ever known, and you wanted to keep piecing his puzzle together until it made the entire image.

"Ted-"

He kissed you.

It was sudden, one moment you were telling him — something you were going to tell him something for sure — Jesus, he was good with his tongue.

He’d grabbed your jaw, his wrist still in your grasp, only now he’d pulled his arm back to let the back of your hand rest along his hip.

Were you breathing?

Holy shit.

Somewhere, distantly, you heard your office door open, but all you could focus on was the way Ted grabbed at your waist. The way his chest pressed into yours and you could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The way he groaned into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip and drawing a moan out of you.

“Coach.” Beard coughed. Ted startled, pulling back and looking up with deer-in-headlights eyes.

He didn’t let go just stared at the other coach as if his parents walked in on him.

“Coach.” He chokes back, causing you to snort a laugh.

You can’t see Beard only hear the smirk dripping from his deadpan words, “Pitch is ready.”

Ted stepped back from you, face burning, his hands smoothing down his sweater to even it out, and he looked everywhere but at you.

“Right, yes, okay, of course, fine and dandy, let’s get this pony on the road.” Beard walked out, Ted following behind, stopping in your doorway when you huff out a laugh.

He looks back at you. “Did it really work?”

You raised a brow, “Come back later and find out.”

I think I might write a part two this is all about the "find out later" depending on how y'all feel about this one.

@theultimateslashgirl @wonderbreadbucky

#ted lasso x you #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #jason sudeikis

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koffeekoko · 2 years

Note

Is it possible to request Koko (or anyone of your choice) reading a letter that was left underneath his door and his feelings and thoughts on the situation? I wrote the letter to hopefully help with inspiration and the overall vibe of the angst. Please ignore it if it's not interesting to you or whatever other reason. Thank you so much!

"As you read this, I'll be long gone, I'll be back in my home town where I belong. I wasn't made for the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, I just wasn't. Whether that makes me weak or naive, I don't really know or care at this point. I left before it sucked my soul dry, stole my sanity and then look for something else to steal from me. But I think it may have been too late. I left my heart in Tokyo, I left it with you. For years I've buried my love for you and for many reasons. You probably already knew that though. You were quite perceptive like that. After all you wouldn't be so successful if you were like any dummy off the street. The memories I have of you I will cherish so deep in my heart, they are my sunshine. There is so much more I want to say but I don't want to steal your precious time. It is worth a lot more than mine and I don't think I deserve any more of it anyways. I've been selfish enough stealing you away from the world with this letter. Just know that I will always love you, and I wish you the best happiness in the world, only the best for someone as beautiful as you. Thank you for being my friend and gifting me priceless moments that I will never forget."

hey darling! after quite a bit of time, it's here! tysm for requesting, i hope it's not too bad hahah. lastly, i hope you like it! (the letter was very well written!) ♡

STAY

hajime kokonoi x reader

genre: angst

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

hajime swears the entire day’s been weird. nothing went the best it could’ve, but he can’t exactly pinpoint something that’s out of place either. he’s had his morning coffee as usual; the taste was a bit sweeter than how he likes it, but it’s nothing to be freaking out about. no strange occurrence at work either, no lost paperwork, no misdoings from his underlings, no annoying phone calls.

everything was rather peaceful, too peaceful it leaves an uneasy feeling down his stomach. perhaps he’s gotten too used to having bad days and dealing with unpleasant issues, but days as peaceful as today just means that something bigger is bound to happen to mark another atrocious day off his calendar.

he keeps thinking and thinking about what he could have missed but nothing lights a spark. he couldn’t wrap his head around anything, not until he’s gotten home and stepped on an envelope.

not bothering to sit down, hajime unwraps the envelope to reveal it’s content, a handwritten letter.

“as you read this, i’ll be long gone, i’ll be back in my hometown where i belong.”

a very bad start. unsigned letters are never pleasant to receive. hajime stirs in his position, unsure if he’s going to like what he’s about to read.

“i wasn’t made for the hustle and bustle of tokyo, i just wasn’t. whether that makes me weak or naïve, i don’t really know or care at this point. i left before it sucked my soul dry, stole my sanity and then looked for something else to steal from me.”

he’s not sure why, but he’s suddenly reminded of you, someone who he’s always classified as unimportant.

“i left my heart in tokyo, i left it with you. for years, i’ve buried my love for you and for many reasons.”

hajime is already putting back on his shoes, grabbing the keys he’s just hanged up, and slamming the door shut after him before he even finishes the rest of this unpleasant letter. a letter he knows who left for him.

you probably already knew though. you were quite perceptive like that.

red lights are passed through as he races to your house. as soon as he read that line, he knew it was you. you were always the one handing him your heart and your world since your youth after all.

after all, you wouldn’t be so successful if you were like any dummy off the streets.

“why the hell is no one opening up” he bangs repeatedly at your door, a dreadful feeling eating him up.

“are you here for y/n? they left for the airport not long ago!” the next door neighbor says in a cheery voice, cheering for something hajime dreads with all his guts.

hajime’s face turns pale at the statement. he scrambles back to his car and drives off like he’s racing against time.

the memories i have of you, i will cherish so deep in my heart, they are my sunshine.

ridiculous is the fact he’s getting so worked up with your leave. weren’t you just another person on his life? he’s sure he never even cared much about you, you were just always around him, but he couldn’t care less about you.

badly parked car, sweaty and smelling clothes, messy hair and appearance, all the unruly things he’s never allowed himself to show, all the rules he’s set for himself all lost their place. he has no time to worry for himself, his only concern is reaching you before you reach the plane.

there’s so much more i want to say but i don’t want to steal your precious time. it’s worth a lot more than mine and i don’t think i deserve any more of it anyways.

hajime was sure that after the incident, he’s got nothing else to lose, nothing else to love, and nothing more to damage his already wounded heart. but as he’s running around the entire airport, he’s likely losing everything. losing himself in the crowdy place, losing time, losing hope, and losing you.

i’ve been selfish enough stealing you away from the world with this letter.

strangely enough, for someone who thinks he’s got his heart locked up deep inside, safe and protected from someone ever snatching it from him and inflicting more harm than what it already received, hajime feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest right in this moment.

desperation starts creeping up on him, coming from nowhere and slowly swallowing him into an endless void. it’s impossible to find you somewhere this big and crowded.

he’s starting to lose hope. there’s no point anymore, you probably already left even. tears are blurring his vision, he couldn’t see anything clearly, but a familiar figure on the edge of his eyes makes him blink.

it’s got to be you, he thinks. said figure is walking out of the check-in facilities. solemn and free, walking away like a prey freeing themselves from the predator’s trap.

“Y/N!” a shout resonates through the whole place.

as expected, the figure turns around at his voice, it was really you after all. hajime believes he was already drained of tears, save from the act of crying, but just like many things today, his own beliefs prove him wrong, too.

tears are uncontrollably rolling down his cheeks, sniffles stealing his breath, as he looked back at you mirroring himself.

hajime longs for your presence next to him, longs to hear your voice, and longs for seeing your smile, but all of that is foul because when he’s had all of it handed to him on the daily, he’s taken them for granted.

now all that he’s seeing on the other side of the airport, is your crying figure. he sees you mouthing something he fails to catch due to the distance between you two.

the atmosphere is getting thick, hajime chokes on his own breath, unable to breathe properly. a weak “stay” is whispered in between heavy pants and gasps for oxygen.

a bittersweet smile masks your sad one as you shake your head disapprovingly. you are mouthing something back before you turn around and leave for the best.

hajime doesn’t expertise on reading lips but he’s sure as hell you said, “i love you.”

three heavy words he’s refused to ever be said to anyone. words he’s sure he never has to express to anyone again, but right now, he’s dying to say it back.

“I LOVE YOU TOO, Y/N!” he yells out ripping every bit of oxygen from his lungs.

just know that i will always love you, and i wish you all the happiness in the world, only the best for someone as beautiful as you.

you don’t dare look back, if you do, your already wavering resolve might shatter completely before you are running back to him again.

thank you for being my friend and gifting me priceless moments that i will never forget.

the moment you walk out of hajime’s field of view without so much as giving him one last glance, is when he knows it's too late to love you back. he realized how naïve and foolish, he have been all these years. you’ve always been around him, giving him your best, while he gave the bare minimum. you’ve handled him your heart with a smile while he refused to unlock his for you. he thought it was safer that way, but he was just foolish all along, because the one who owns the key to the lock was not himself but you.

you were the one holding onto the key to his locked off heart and opened it up long ago without him noticing. hajime swears that if he’s given one more chance, he oaths to love you back and better.

#jel's writings #jel's requests #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #kokonoi #kokonoi hajime #hajime kokonoi #kokonoi angst #kokonoi x reader #kokonoi x you #kokonoi scenarios #tokyo rev imagines

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yardsards · 2 years

Text

i think that lake would probably occasionally give jesse friendly nicknames. mostly affectionately teasing but some nice ones. though i don't think, even if you ship them romantically, that lake would ever be the type to non-sarcastically call anyone stereotypical overly-saccharine pet names like "baby" or "honeybuns". though you might get a few less corny but still sweet ones like "sunshine" or "angel" or maybe even "beautiful" in there every once in a blue moon (i can specifically see "sunshine" as one they would call him even if you don't ship them romantically). but mostly it would be like "bitch (affectionate)" and "my most beloved dumbass"

now, jesse would USUALLY be the type to give nicknames and pet names to pretty much anyone, especially friends/family/other loved ones

but when he first meets lake on the train, he doesn't wanna risk giving them a nickname because he fears they'll like. give him another angry lecture about not deciding people's identities and then kick him in the shins. and then once they're friends on the train, he figures they probably wouldn't yell at him but they might think he's trying to choose their name for them and feel hurt.

and then once they're off the train they tell him their name is lake and he's so happy for them and he loves their name and loves that he got the chance to know it and he wants to use that name every chance he gets. he uses it a frankly unnecessary amount of times the first couple months but they don't complain because they love being called their new name so much it just feels so right

and he stops using their name so excessively as time goes by but the habit of never calling them anything other than their name ever goes away, even though lake has shown themself to be okay with other friends giving them nicknames. but he manages to say their name with such affection and "that's my best friend right there!!!!!!!!! :D" energy behind it that it sounds sweeter than any nickname could

#infinity train #infinity train book 2 #jesse cosay #lake infinity train #jesslake #(as with anything i post about these two you can interpret it as romantic or platonic or whatever else)#eliot posts #intr #that post i made at like 6 am while in the throes of insomnia w blurred vision keeps getting notes #and seeing it again made me think more about how those two would use names for each other #i am but a simple trans. i see a character choose their own name and get emotional.

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Text

What pet names do Romanced!Companions have for Sole/Lone/Six?

Here it is! My first Fallout companions post! There are a few companions I’m not as familiar with, but I tried to make them all pretty equal. Sorry it’s so long, I just had a lot of fun with this one. I tried to include most of the companions, but if you want me to add anyone, just ask and I totally can! I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to send me any prompts at all, my asks are open :)

Fallout 4 --

Cait: Pet names really shouldn’t be as complicated as Cait makes them out to be. Given her past experiences, she finds it hard to call Sole anything particularly endearing, but she really tries once they’ve been together for a while. She seems to go back and forth between being more objectifying or crude, like the names she would've been called in the combat zone and when she was a slave, since they would just be what she is familiar with; and sweeter names that she would use when she and Sole were alone. So, anything from luv/lover, dear/dearie, handsome/beautiful, and even a ghrá (an Irish term of endearment meaning ‘love,’ but only in private and on special occasions) to names like hot piece of arse, sexy, and beasty.

Curie: She loves the idea of pet names! And actually catches onto them very quickly once she hears Sole using their names for her. Curie tends to say hers in French since she knows that Sole thinks it's cute (and also kinda hot) when she speaks her native language. So, she tends to use names like mon amour, mon dieu, mon petit chou, ('my little pastry') and even mon canard (a more silly French term of endearment meaning ‘my duck,’ this one is more of a joke that they call each other after she told Sole what it means).

Danse: This is all new to the (former) brotherhood soldier, but he tries his best and really does enjoy applying these terms of endearment to his beloved. At first he'll keep it simple by calling Sole "soldier" (but with that cute voice he uses when he says "I always have time for you," you know the one) and the same goes for their brotherhood rank, and he’s also quite fond of simply referring to Sole as “my love”. Danse isn’t the most creative, having little to no frame of reference for this sort of thing, so usually he'll just take whatever Sole uses and repeat it. This usually ends up being names like honey/hun, love, or even angel (though not very often and always in private). Also uses Sole’s first name (and maybe a shortened/informal version of it when it's just them) which is always special for him due to the fact that he tends to refer to people strictly by their last name.

Deacon: I'm a firm believer that Deacon would call Sole random pet names that are usually based off of inanimate objects and/or food that he finds around the Commonwealth. Examples include: buttercup, orange/berry/grape mentat, bobby pin, nuka cherry, ice cream (works on multiple levels cuz of the whole cryo thing), preserved pie, etc. Just if he sees something that he could use as a non-offensive pet name, it's fair game. Also embarrassing fluffy ones like shnookums, babydoll, cuddles, babycakes, dollface, sweetie pie, plus their railroad name in an awful baby voice. In private he'll call them by their real name, often saying the whole thing (how he learned their full name, Sole will never know, they didn't ever recall telling him) or the first and middle name together.

Hancock: Sunshine (of course), but also sweetheart, gorgeous/handsome, angel, sweet ass, sexy, and sometimes lover. He’s kind of like Cait in the sense that he ranges from sweet names to more suggestive and spicy ones. He also likes to use nicknames that reflect Sole's appearance, ex: red, blondie, blue eyes, freckles, curly, dark eyes, etc. His pet names tend to depend on his mood more so than who's around them. He couldn't care less about what other people think, so at times when he's feeling more frisky, or just lovey dovey, he'll use whatever pet name he deems most appropriate to get his intentions (however impure they might be) across.

MacCready: Beautiful/handsome/gorgeous, knockout, baby, he still uses boss (but in a suggestive way, "mm yeah, whatever you say, boss" *wink wink*); and if the kiddos are involved (Duncan and/or Shaun) he may refer to Sole as mommy/momma/daddy/papa. He likes using pet names, but mostly in private or if anyone takes an interest in Sole, just to let them know that "hey, they're taken, pal." Despite him trying to keep up the gruff mercenary facade in the public eye, sometimes the pet names just slip out, given how often he uses them in private. He always blushes when this happens and tries to move past it before anyone can address it.

Nick: These terms of endearment come naturally to the old detective. He's definitely a romantic at heart, so he tends to use pretty much anything you would hear in an old Hollywood film (noir in particular). So, doll, darling, baby, my dear, better half, sweetheart, and even turtle dove (which he had heard used before and thought it was cute given the whole 'turtle doves mating for life' thing.) Since a good few of these terms are pretty casual and fit into Nick's speech patterns as it is, he has no problem using them for Sole in public.

Piper: Okay, let's get the obvious one out of the way, we all know she constantly uses "blue," beyond that, she likes to use the names of the sweet foods she's so fond of as inspiration. Stuff like gumdrop, bubblegum, sugar, sweet roll, etc. She might also like to poke fun at her pre-war lover by referring to them as grammy/gramps, old timer, senior citizen, or antique/relic. Another way she likes to emphasize Sole's history is by adding -sicle to the end of their name (like a popsicle, so ex: solesicle) since she enjoys pointing out that they were previously frozen and then “thawed out just for her."

Preston: BABE, (and also the occasional baby), as well as other basic pet names. Preston doesn't get too crazy, he likes to use hon, darling, dear, m'lady, handsome/beautiful and may even utter a prince/princess once in a while. While he may not have much in the way of creativity, it's not so much what he says, but how he says it. In Preston's eyes, his Sole is everything that's right with the world, so no matter what he calls them, he'll say the words like they're the most precious thing to ever grace his humble lips.

X6-88: This part of the relationship tends to confuse him, as he really just doesn't see the point in these names, Sole has a name, and so does X6… why do they need to refer to each other in other ways? So mostly he sticks with sir/ma'am or director, but says it with a bit more affection (and sometimes a suggestive smirk if he's in the right mood). Also always uses their first name in private. If he does use any pet names they are something he gets from sole first and just copies. However, he did come up with one himself that he's quite fond of using, he likes to refer to Sole as his "other half," he might even use this one in public, depending on the company. He also likes to use "badass" as a term of endearment in certain situations as well, though he understands that it’s not a particularly romantic term.

Fallout 3 --

Butch: He likes to use a lot of the more old timey names that he would hear in love songs on the radio and prefers quirky names to the basic ones. Though he might still use honey, babe, or baby, he mainly prefers names like babygirl/babydoll, main cat/kitty/pussycat, toots, main squeeze, babycakes, buttercup, honeycomb, and dollface. He'll be all about using some of these names in front of other people, particularly the names that he deems to be more “cool,” he definitely doesn't mind flaunting Lone as his lover in public.

Charon: Near the beginning of the relationship, he won't call them anything without them telling him to, just out of habit. And once they grow more comfortable, he still prefers to just call Lone by their first name, but at least he feels like it's his choice to make at this point. The only other name he uses is "love," and it's few and far between, and almost always at times he thinks Lone is sleeping or won't hear him.

Clover: She tends to be quite possessive of Lone, so she has no problem using pet names in public and tends to use them quite loudly. Not usually picky, she'll call Lone almost anything as long as it gets the nature of their relationship across. So babe/baby, lover, king/queen, daddy/kitten, sexy, gorgeous/handsome are all used quite often in her case.

Cross: Not being particularly romantic, she still does want Lone to know how much she cares for them, and it turns out pet names are a good way to do this. Keeping this in mind, she sometimes goes a little overboard to compensate for her lack of affection in general. She likes to use names like dearest, light of my life, precious, my true love, and my life companion. Yeah… she can be a little dramatic, and she may not even mind using them in public, but she'll always say them very seriously and "matter-of-factly," so you'd hardly notice how sweet of names they really are.

Fawkes: Despite all his knowledge, he really likes to keep it simple, just calling Lone by their first name, and he just loves to refer to Lone as his boyfriend/girlfriend (he likes the term, it makes him feel good to call them 'friend,' and it's just a bonus that it underlines the nature of their relationship). He definitely doesn't mind using those terms in public, since he spent so much time in isolation, he tends to be pretty loud and enthusiastic about being in a relationship (especially with someone as great as Lone.)

Jericho: Still tends to call them "kid," or "man" even when in a relationship mostly to try and keep up casual appearances. (He may or may not be in denial about his feelings for Lone for a while given the more causal nature of all his previous relationships and his raider past.) So, he's not big on pet names, however, once he becomes more comfortable in the relationship, he doesn't mind using them to announce to any potential suitors that not only is Lone taken, but they're his. So he'll use things like baby doll, sweetheart, and sweetie pie in public and loudly, but make no mistake, these cutesy terms are usually nestled between more aggressive vocabulary ("hey sweetheart, get your ass over here.") He certainly wouldn't be opposed to using some creative ones in the bedroom; however, they'd mostly be depreciating ones, like slut, or whore when he gets riled up.

Fallout: New Vegas --

Arcade: He thinks pet names are somewhat demeaning, (or at least that's what he wants everyone to think, in reality, he just gets flustered when using them and especially when Six uses them on him) so he prefers to use Latin terms of endearment as a sort of stealthy way to still use some of these fluffier terms in public. Mea vita (my life), ocelle (apple of my eye), cor (my heart) are all names he would use. Partly because he likes them and partly because it makes him feel smart to have to explain what they mean to Six (even though he acts exasperated by it.) He may use more conventional pet names when he and Six are alone.

Boone: He tends not to use pet names in public, he prefers to keep the pda to a minimum (if anything he's more physical with his affection in public. Though still reserved, if anyone else shows an interest in Six, you can bet Boone has his arm around them in a split second.) However, when he and Six are alone, that's a whole different story. Apart from simply calling Six by their first name affectionately, Boone is an avid "babe" user, but he'll also use hon, love, dear, and angel. Believe it or not, he tends to be quite soft and romantic in private (he was married, after all). But he might also use more casual names that seem to be more friendly than romantic in public, so he could throw in something like 'hotshot' every once in awhile.

Cass: Cass isn't particularly fond of pet names, and definitely won't use them in public (unless they happen to slip out after she's had a few drinks, but she can't be held responsible for that.) She may say the occasional babe/baby, lover, or partner. On the rare occasions when she and Six are alone and she feels like expressing her otherwise rather gruff love to them, she may use names of other things that she likes. Examples include the names of flowers (poppy/marigold/lilly), sunshine, or prickly pear when they're acting grumpy (side note: She usually needs to be at least a little tipsy to use these, even if it is in private. It's hard for her to drop that tough exterior considering how far it extends into her interior.)

Raul: The older ghoul tends to stick with what he knows, using pet names from before the bombs fell. Generally he sticks with Spanish pet names as well, ones that he would've picked up in Mexico city all those years ago. So, cariño, mi corazón, mi amor, mi sol, and media naranja are all fair game for Raul. Additionally, he might still use "boss," but with an added wink or smile. He doesn't necessarily try to use them in public, since he wouldn't want to end up embarrassing Six, but sometimes they just slip out.

Veronica: She really likes pet names? This whole affection thing really agrees with her and she's happy to be able to express it outside the confines of the brotherhood. She tends to follow Six's lead on this, given that she doesn't have loads of experience with the fluffier side of relationships (again, the brotherhood has always been strict on pda), but she picks up on it quickly and becomes quite enthusiastic. Though using them in public is more difficult for her, she will use them in private often. At first she'll use basic pet names that she's likely heard Six use first, so honey, babe, and sweetie are all options. Other than that, she'll try to come up with some of her own, usually based on old fashioned posters, books, or songs that she's familiarized herself with. So, darling/dear, love/lover, sweetheart, doll, and maybe honeycomb and buttercup as well, since they just sounded so sweet to her.

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j3ssisam3ss · 3 years

Text

This idea won’t leave me alone...

In short: A Dickinette/BioDad!Bruce/Enemies to Lovers fic featuring:

Marinette “If God gave me strength you’d all be dead” Dupain-Cheng

Dick “Don’t make me use my Batman voice” Grayson

Tim “Give me coffee or give me death” Drake-Wayne

Damian “I’ll gladly give you death” Al Ghul-Wayne

Jason “It’s not trauma it’s humor, quit looking at me like that” Todd.

I can’t write a Dickinette fic at the same time that I’m writing a BioDad!Dick fic. I just can’t. But this idea won’t get out of my brain, so here I am writing it down and hoping it’ll leave me alone after this.

Marinette finds out she’s Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter when she’s summoned to Gotham for the reading of his will.

Because apparently the universe can’t give her even a single month to deal with the fact that her boss was a secret supervillain. Or the fact that the partner that had betrayed her, attacked her, sexually assaulted her, repeatedly, was the same guy she’d spent years crushing on.

It’s fine though. She’s fine. She’s not fine. No trauma or trust issues here.

She’s expecting money from her absentee father, maybe a cool car or something. Instead, she’s made co-CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and co-guardian of two kids.

Because apparently her biological father was something of a serial adopter. Apparently, he had no interest in reaching out to her, but adopted four boys and served as a mentor or guardian to countless other kids. She’s not bitter about that. Really, she’s not. She is.

Nevertheless, dealing with things she didn’t sign up for is practically Marinette’s calling card by now, so she takes to running Wayne Enterprises and raising her siblings like a duck to the water. Half the WE employees jumped ship after Bruce’s death? Not a problem, she’ll bring in new hires and inspire cult-like loyalty with her professionalism and efficiency. Her kids charges (and the rest of the Wayne family) moonlight as Gotham’s vigilantes? We’ve all been there. She starts immediately on new suits - ones that will have some magical extra protection and won’t make her barf every time she looks at them. The dead sibling is actually alive and just as salty with Bruce and his family as she is? She’ll make friends with him and force a reconciliation sweeter than the macaroons she used to bribe him.

The only issue she can’t solve is one Richard John Grayson. As Bruce Wayne’s far too attractive eldest ward - not son, apparently that’s a sore spot - the executors of Bruce’s will have named him her partner in this whole kid-raising, business-running mess. Which would be fine, except for the fact that he seems to have made it his life’s mission to oppose anything and everything she suggests or does. Marinette is running a fashion empire, trying to teach centuries-old monks what the internet is, raising two kids, and leading a multinational corporation. She doesn’t have time for this nonsense. And yet it’s her problem.

And then Gotham decides that she and Dick are in love and everything gets so much worse. Is it too late to take the Miracle Box and fake her own death?

Dick, on the other hand, has spent the last six years trying to break out of the shadow of Batman and Bruce Wayne alike.

With Bruce’s death, it feels like he’s taken three steps forward and fifty backwards. He’s twenty-four. He’s a police officer, with hopes of becoming a detective. He’s not prepared to run a multi-billion dollar company. Not prepared to raise his siblings. Not prepared to abandon his identity as Nightwing to become the Caped Crusader.

And yet, he has to. Because Tim and Damian need him. Because family comes first. Because it would destroy his siblings to become Batman. It will destroy him too.

When the court introduces Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Bruce’s biological daughter and his partner in sibling-raising and company-wrangling, his immediate reaction is relief. Maybe now he can get a little sleep. Maybe Damian will actually listen to her and will have a semi-normal childhood. Maybe she’ll be able to convince Tim to ingest something other than coffee. Maybe he won’t have to completely give up being Nightwing. Maybe between him, Tim, and Marinette they’ll be able to convince the world that yes, two young adults and a kid can run a successful business. Maybe one day she’ll grace him with a date.

These dreams are brought to a screeching halt when Dick realizes: Marinette Dupain-Cheng has no understanding of what a partnership entails.

She speaks for both of them to the board, to the media, to the kids, without so much as asking his opinion. She makes decisions and changes and informs him when it’s too late to protest. When he tries to bring it up, she gives him an innocent look of confusion and changes the subject. It’s infuriating maddening frustrating. Somehow, he’s doing more work trying to keep up with her than when he was running WE by himself.

And that’s not even getting started on the secrets she’s keeping. Her personality is all sunshine in public, but at home she’s as cynical and distrustful as Bruce himself. He hears voices coming from her room when she claims to be asleep. She has too many skills that don’t match with her background or age. Skills like disarming a gunman before the security guards even realize he’s there. Like successfully running a multinational corporation with no prior experience. Like knowing exactly how to deal with the media, despite being raised as a baker’s daughter.

Dick is taking on the mantle of Batman, raising his siblings, trying to learn how to run a multi-billion dollar company, and making regular appearances as Nightwing. He doesn’t have time to deal with this drama. And yet it’s his problem.

And then Gotham decides that he and Marinette are in love and everything gets so much worse. Is it too late to dump Bruce’s body in the Lazarus Pits and force him to deal with this mess?

@maribatmarch-2k21

Maribat March - Day 23 - Enemies to Lovers

#maribat #fic ideas #dickinette #marinette is so done #cynical marinette #guardian marinette #dick grayson is batman #everyone is traumatized #just realized this works for MaribatMarch #MaribatMarch2021

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