#if this flops i will be so devastated

[marcidonato]

second hand smoke wont kill whats already dead

[sweetsuke]

who has the best fs2 and why is it them

[murraystrikez]

when the work you thought would flop suddenly gets comments and kudos and you're just...

[saturnns-star]

My skrunklies my scrimblos my blorbos my babygorls my UwU whores my bit-

Ouh

Ouh did I mention,

Married.

[spaghettiandart]

I'm gonna be real idk what a mimic is nor do I care to learn anything from the books other than osmosis against my will, I'm still gonna hc burntrap as William because its objectively funnier if he IS william. The dude just wont die, he just keeps crawling back to get his ass handed to him in the same exact way each time, it's great

[bklynmusicnerd]

Ava popping that random ass Ferrero Rocher from Nikolas in her mouth like she didn't think this man tried to kill her a week ago:

[tricktster]

around when I first started dating my boyfriend i bought myself this novelty blanket that looks like a photorealistic tortilla because I am SUCH A SUCKER for novelty shit. when he saw it in person for the first time his eyes lit up, which should have been a warning sign for the indignities to come.

so he’s a first responder and his day shifts start obnoxiously early as far as I, a pampered corporate asshole, am concerned. almost invariably when he’s at my place there will be an alarm at an hour that is downright unconscionable that will make him wake up and roll out of bed to get ready and will simultaneously make me burrow under the pillows grumbling about how surely nobody actually NEEDS their lives saved this early in the morning, after which I will promptly attempt to go back to sleep

he is a clever man and he knows this is when i am most vulnerable to attack.

every single time we do this dance, he quietly dresses, packs up, goes about getting ready to leave, and then when i have juuuust fallen back asleep, he returns with the tortilla blanket. He finds it no matter where I have hidden it.

He then creeps silently up to my side of the bed and uses his superior speed, strength, and reflexes to wrap me up in it incredibly tightly while i am still dazed and sputtering, so that i cannot move my legs or arms and am reduced to humiliating halfhearted magikarp flops that do not deter him from at least attempting to kiss my forehead.

then he goes to my bedroom door, opens it, then pauses, turns around, looks at me, the soft human filling of the facsimile of an enormous burrito he has just constructed, and says in his best romantic lead voice “I’ll see you soon, beans.”

you cannot understand how devastating it is to my ego that i am beans.

[idiotsonlyevent]

YOUR ASS IS NOT MAKING IT OUT OF ONIGASHIMA 🔥🔥🔥🔥

[overseer-picard]

I know we beat the "seasons are only 10 episodes now and it sucks" dead horse on the daily but another thing we lost when we stopped making the 24 episode 1 hour drama was the freedom to be narratively risky.

Star Trek, The X Files, and Doctor Who are great examples of this since they had the sandbox of Sci-Fi to play with. There are so many amazing, mind bending, soul stretching episodes that were teetering on the edge of flop or flying and through bold writing they didn't just fly but catapulted into the stratosphere of iconic. These episodes changed expectations and genre boundaries of what Sci-Fi could be for years to come.

We don't get episodes like this anymore because these new shows cannot afford the risk of a flop. The weekly episodic story structure that was once the foundation of television has been abandoned by Hollywood. The beautiful thing about this "simplistic" structure is that it provides a narrative safety net. You can take a risk and afford the miss because you can have a clean slate next week. You can't do that with continual narrative structures where only one story is being told over ten episodes (note to add: both structures are valuable, but total abandonment of one in favor of the other is detrimental).

These production companies gleefully hold the metaphorical gun of cancellation to the writer's heads and this actively ensures that stories are as safe as possible. This is creatively devastating, and ironically, guarantees catastrophic failure of shows. Safety is a bland cage.

Of course, the production think-tanks can't possibly take responsibility for their suffocating creative control so they blame the audiences for *checks notes* being on their phones too much, not subscribing enough, paying too little for ads, being too vocal online, not being vocal enough, being too demanding, being too liberal, being too conservative, whatever it takes to say "these failures are not our fault, you're just bad audiences".

Now, there are the episodes that did flop, but they flopped so spectacularly that we have entire days celebrating them decades later. These episodes took massive risks and instead of trying to back away from that creative intensity, these writers-of-old stepped up to bat, acknowledged they probably didn't have the screen-time to truly flesh out these concepts but by God they were going to try, and then hit so hard they shattered the bat. Sure they lost the game, but wow, what a thing to witness.

When I invariably get asked what my least favorite episodes of Star Trek are, I can't even remember because a "bad" episode to me is one that's simply forgettable.

There is no greater crime in the realm of artistic creation than being aesthetically beige and mind numbingly forgettable and yet for the past 15 years 8 out of 10 productions seem to be repeat offenders of exactly this.

[sanguineterrain]

Hey, I love your writing, your Jason fics are always so tender and authentic

I was wondering if you would write something where Reader is pulled aside by someone and asked whether they're in danger (since Jason is pretty big and intimidating) and later they laugh it off because they find it absurd but it gets to Jason and perhaps brings some insecurities to the surface

this is actually devastating!!! thank you for requesting 🤌

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: wrongly assumed abuse and jason being gutted at the idea, hurt/comfort, reassurance, estab relationship.

****

"Chocolate is obviously superior."

Jason sighs, flopping against the diner booth dramatically. "What a shame to be so wrong. Vanilla stays on top."

"Vanilla is boring as hell, Jay," you say, throwing your napkin at him. He catches it. Of course. "On the milkshake hierarchy, vanilla is barely a step above whatever monstrosity a peppermint bark shake is."

"Buddy, I happen to like drinking toothpaste." He points a finger at you. "And that's my God-given right."

"It's an abomination is what it is." You take a long, pointed sip of your shake. "Mm, the taste of good choices."

Jason traps both of your legs between his under the table. You gasp and try to wiggle free, but his strength is merciless.

"If it's an abomination, why is it on the menu?" he asks, grinning as you squirm.

"Well, what else are they meant to serve you freaks?"

Jason gently tugs you forward by your legs. He leans over the table. You meet him halfway.

"This freak appreciates the thought," he says and kisses you.

He tastes like vanilla shake. It's not what you'd order, but you really don't mind kissing it off of Jason's mouth. Funny how that works.

He pulls away and releases your legs, then scoots out of the booth.

"Gonna take care of business. Don't drink my incredibly irresistible shake."

"I'll certainly try," you say, looking up at him with what are undoubtedly giant heart eyes.

Jason disappears to the restrooms. You drink your shake and focus on trying to craft the straw wrapper into a snake.

You're close to shaping it when a woman comes up to your table. You've never seen her in your life.

"Uh, hi," you say. "Can I help you?"

She glances around the diner before leaning down.

"Hey. Look, if you're... in need of someplace safe, there's a great shelter downtown."

Your brows rise. "I'm sorry?"

"I was in your shoes once too," she says, eyes wide. "You don't have to rely on a guy to get you on your feet. Especially someone like him."

You shake your head slowly. "I... what? I don't understand. The man I'm with, he's my boyfriend."

She looks skeptical. You turn to face her fully, because now you're properly bewildered.

"Uh, I appreciate that you're looking out for people, and I know stuff you're referring to is everywhere in Gotham. But I promise I'm okay."

"I know physical intimidation is scary—"

"Whoa." You hold up a hand. "Just because he's a big guy doesn't mean he's throwing me around. He's the gentlest man you'll ever meet. I love him and he loves me. No one is in danger."

The woman's mouth pinches. You don't even have it in you to be upset. You've never once felt afraid of Jason. But you forget how he looks to others, how he's twice or triple most people's size and covered in scars.

"Here's the number to the shelter," she says, slipping the paper under the salt shaker. "In case you change your mind."

She hurries out the door before you can respond. You stare at the card, then shrug. You suppose, if anything, you're happy there are still good Samaritans in Gotham.

Presently, Jason returns. He purposely makes his footsteps heard because of the countless times you've lectured him about scaring the shit out of you due to his habit of going stealth mode without realizing.

"Hello, dearest," he says. "I've returned from war."

"My hero. Did you wash your hands in battle?"

Jason slides into the booth and sticks his hand in your face. "Smell 'em and rejoice, baby."

You take his hand and give it a deep sniff. It indeed smells like soap. Not that you ever doubted your boyfriend's handwashing capabilities.

"Smells like... wrong opinions about milkshakes," you say, then kiss his palm.

He rolls his eyes. "I can see my absence has taught you nothing. Unfortunate."

"I'm stubborn. I'm sure you of all people can understand that," you say, smiling.

"Mm. Y'lucky you're cute."

Your food arrives, the waitress cheerily informing you that she hopes you enjoy your meal.

"I think she's the happiest person in Gotham," Jason says, shaking the ketchup bottle.

You take a fry from his plate. "Probably a Metropolis native."

"Y'know my fries are the exact same as yours, right?"

"Nope," you say. "Yours have special boyfriend cooties on them. Adds flavor."

"You're gross," Jason says, quite lovingly.

You make a heart with your hands. He returns it, then takes a bite of his burger.

You don't even register it when Jason grabs the salt shaker. You're zeroed in on your lunch and don't look up until he speaks.

"What's this?"

Jason's holding the shelter hotline card.

"Oh! Some lady came over and gave that to me."

"Gave it to you?"

You should clock Jason's tone and the way he's stopped eating completely. But the experience was so odd that you can't fathom Jason thinking it as anything but a mistake.

"Yeah. For some reason, she thought I was here drinking a milkshake with you against my will. Probably 'cause it's Gotham, and you're my BBB: big beefcake boyfriend. Little does she know, I'm the heavyweight boxing champion of Park Row."

You swirl your fries in Jason's ketchup. He doesn't even blink. Usually, he'd give you a raised eyebrow and pretend he's cross.

Jason's still staring at the card. You catch his legs with yours. He doesn't look up.

"Jay?" you ask, smile fading. You drop your legs. "Hey. Y'good?"

"Hm? Oh. Sorry, baby." He puts the card aside and smiles at you, quick and strained.

"Everything okay?" you ask.

"Yeah. Uh, fine."

"Jason." You lean over and grab his hand. "What's wrong?"

He swallows. You wait, the noise of the diner fading. All that matters is whatever's causing his absolutely heartbreaking expression.

"How could she think I'm hurting you?" Jason whispers, finally looking at you. "How could—I would never hurt you."

"Oh, Jay. Honey, that's why I hardly entertained her. It was so silly to think about. I was so puzzled at first that I couldn't even decipher what she meant."

"But what if... y'know, maybe she sensed something about me. Sensed violence. I get it. I'd–I'd be scared of me if I were a regular person."

"Jason, sweetie, no. No, no, no. I think that woman experienced some hard things in her life, and that caused her to see something that wasn't there. She had good intentions, but she was absolutely wrong. I know you have a past, but I've never felt unsafe with you. Never. I could never be afraid of you."

Jason gnaws on the inside of his cheek. You get up and slide in next to him, crowding him against the wall. You curl against his arm.

"You love me so well, I forget that most people see a monster when I walk down the street," he says.

You squeeze your eyes closed. Pins in your heart.

"You're not a monster, Jay. You're good. I know it. Your family knows it. You're a protector."

He takes a deep breath. "If–if you ever felt afraid of me, ever, and you wanted me to stay away, then you tell me so, and I'd leave you alone. No questions asked."

"Jason," you whisper. You wrap your arm around his neck and pull him close. The vinyl squeaks as you shift. "Jay, I love you. I don't want you to leave me alone."

"But if—"

"No. Please listen to me. I know you'd never hurt or frighten me. Sometimes, people are wrong. She was wrong about you. She was kind but wrong."

You sit like that for a bit, feeling each other breathe. Jason's hand grazes yours. You grab it, lacing your fingers together.

"I love you too," he says quietly. "Never felt anything but love for you."

You smile and steal another fry off his plate. He snorts.

"I know." You lean against his shoulder. "Never doubted it."

[ihopeiexplode]

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna x Supermodel!Reader

. Mixed of 2 requests!

. A/N: wrote this in class filled w sukuna haters 😞😞 (also I might be flopping chat!!)

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who met you before your modeling career started, but you met him when he was already a trending streamer but of course your relationship was kept private under your request

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who's an attractive man, no surprise in that, did half of his followers only follow him because of his looks and voice? Yeah.. hundred percent...

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who gets away with saying the most unhinged and outrageous things on stream just because of his good looks..

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna whose female audience became devastated after they heard he was taken, but do they know he's dating a famous supermodel? Nope, does he want them to know? Yes, but can he tell them? In his dreams

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna whos surprisingly into reading theories everyone made when he revealed he was dating, seeing how they gathered up every female he interacted with and tried seeing which of them had the most chemistry, he laughed when they all came to the conclusion he was dating uraume

(yes I'm aware uraumes gender is not confirmed but let's just say they're female here!!)

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who revealed he was dating you by accident, totally!!

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who called you into his room one morning, but you were unaware he was live, you know his schedule on when he's going live so your relationship with him could be avoided from being revealed

"You called?"

"Mhm, just wanted a little kiss,"

"... Are you live right now...?"

"Hm? Oh, whoops,"

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who felt like a proud idiot when word got around saying a supermodel was dating him, I mean it was only 5 Minutes after the big reveal he was dating you and word immediately got out that Sukuna was the mystery person you were dating and you were his

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who laughs at the "he's only dating her for her money!!" Comments, you both dated before your modeling career, plus he's also rich he has no need to go after your money, not to mention he doesn't even let you spend a dime of your money and insists you should spend his instead....

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who secretly watches edits of you on tiktok and has a whole collection of all the edits he found of you

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who also has a separate collection for every edit he finds of both you,

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who absolutely hates it whenever A guy hits you right in front of him. Sure it's known you're taken by him but does it stop the flirting and stares? On his side yes, but on your side? No, no it does not.

"I must say you rather look gorgeous this evening ms I/n"

"she's taken."

"Hm? I'm aware she is,"

"do I need to—"

"Sukuna enough, were in public..."

"I really don't know what you see in him ms l/n you could do so much better, like me for example,"

"nevermind, Sukuna go."

Woah I wonder how the guy ended up in the hospital the very next day!!! I wonder who caused that!!

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who loves it whenever a girl tries hitting on him only to run away and apologize the moment they see you approach him and give him a kiss

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who also loves it whenever you bring him up during one of your interviews

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who always has to mention you at least more than once during his streams or just mentioning you in general

"you look handsome"

"yeah I know my girlfriend told me that earlier this morning, only her opinions matter to me by the way"

Streamerboyfriend!Sukuna who acts like a lovesick puppy whenever he's with you, surprising everyone who sees your photos with him on your Instagram seeing how Sukuna is known and theorized to be the dominant one in a relationship if it ever came to that (the theory was made before ur relationship w him was revealed), but it seems to be the complete opposite in your photos...

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

Permanent Taglist: @cadibearrr

[princessbrunette]

easter at the chateau was pretty non existent. atleast until bunny!reader came along.

they’d heard you before they saw you, the sweetest thing clad in white — bunny ears flopping atop your head and basket rumbling in your hand as you run across the dry grass, attracting attention of the two males on the porch.

“happy easter!” you squeal, diving into jj’s arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“jesus girlie, you got a rocket up your ass or what?” he pats your butt, his own smile unable to be hidden, always happy to see you. you jump down, straightening out your skirt.

“hi sweetheart.” john b seems less alarmed, arms crossed as he leans against the front door hinge. “uh, what’chu got there?”

“your first clue!” you pant, still out of breath from your eccentric entrance. you reach into the otherwise nearly empty basket, merely there for appearances and pull out a neatly folded pastel pink card, handing it to john b.

“clue?” he frowns, opening it up as jj wanders curiously over to his side.

“you guys are always chasing treasure so i decided to make you guys a little easter hunt!” you grin, eyes glimmering hopefully at the two. jj points his finger at you.

“now that? that is adorable. can this little hunt maybe like, wait until i’ve had some breakfast? or—”

“you have to do it now!” your voice cracks, looking devastated at his lack of enthusiasm.

“—you know what now is the perfect time for a hunt, actually so— that’s perfect, yeah—”

john b is smiling down at the card, reading the rhyming clue you’d scrawled in pretty little curlicue. it was terribly easy, but incredibly sweet. the brunette touches his chest with a genuine smile, looking back up at you.

“healing my inner child right now, y’know that?”

his blonde best friend snatches the card, adjusting his pants with the other hand as he reads over it. “when’d you have time to hide all these clues around anyway?”

“last night! when you guys were sleeping.” comes your simple smile, fiddling with the lace trim of your mini skirt. they look at you, and then eachother before shrugging.

“yeah, checks out.”

you follow them around, giggling on their tails as they pretend to struggle with your clues. when they arrive at the last card, you scramble away— waiting for them in the bedroom where the hunt ends, shedding your clothes to reveal a frilly white lingerie set, and presenting a carrot cake you’d baked just for them.

when they bust in casually, you’re stood with a grin — stopping them in their tracks. john b’s eyebrows jump up as his gaze rakes over you and jj is quick to fix his cap, licking his lips. “woah—”

“tada! s’me! i’m the prize!” you can barely contain your excitement. small kitten heels with the fluffy ball at the toe tip tapping against the wooden floors. john b is the first to break into a grin, closing in on you.

“you know, i had my suspicions that might be the case, but i didn’t wanna presume…” his voice is warm and deep and you’re already biting your glossy lip, gazing up at him like he hung the moon and stars as he strokes the skin around your waist.

“wow, really guys? on such a holy day?” jj sarks with faux disapproval as if he isn’t actively working his belt off his shorts. you thump your foot lightly.

“guys! you have to try the carrot cake first. worked hard on it.” you’re pouting, fluttering spiky black lashes up at your boyfriends as the darker haired of the two twiddles with the white fluffy bunny ears you’d secured to the top of your head.

“yeah screw that.” jj scoffs. you furrow your eyebrows, john b shooting him a look. “oh you know i love your baking babydoll but right now i got my mind on eatin’ one thing and one thing only.” he approaches with a charming smile, dropping a kiss to your lips as john b works your panties down your legs.

“pussy?” the brunette tilts his head.

“yep, pussy. definitely pussy.”

[ghost-proofbaby]

fictional boyfriends (e.m.)

summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.

warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.

wc: 2.5k+

a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink

It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.

Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.” 

Until that damn game.

When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections. 

“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle. 

“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“

“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”

For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now. 

“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“

“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”

You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.

More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention. 

“Fine.” 

The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.

He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.

“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not. 

“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?” 

“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”

“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”

“Well that makes one of us.” 

Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”

He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration. 

Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t. 

You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“

“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.” 

He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.

“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you. 

He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.

Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend. 

“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“

He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.

You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?” 

You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized. 

God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.

“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.” 

He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not.  You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.

“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”  

His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.

“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.

You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight. 

And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.

You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game. 

“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.” 

If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation. 

But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat. 

Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.

When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.

He bites.

Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.

You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?

If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.

He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture. 

Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of. 

“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault. 

He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent. 

Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of. 

“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it. 

“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.” 

Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.” 

He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”

“I do not-”

He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point. 

“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.” 

You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.” 

“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”

“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.” 

His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.

“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.” 

Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.

He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Darlene, you never did have sense!” Your grandmother yawls.  

Your eyes roll to the ceiling and settle on the wall. Your mother snarls back, “it wasn’t my fault!” 

“It never is your fault, is it? But it’s always my mess to clean up.” The old woman barks. 

You sigh and turn off the lamp. Despite the devastation of your home, the rest of your life remains in place. You have a shift at the deli and you can’t afford to miss a single minute now. You know your grandma won’t put up with you for long. You don’t think you can stand her either. 

The venomous back and forth continues as you pull a pillow over your head. It’s impossible to drown out. When it stops, your mom crashes through the door and stomps around. Your adrenaline spikes again. You haven’t really calmed down since the trailer folded into dust. 

She flops onto the bed and scrolls through her phone. The brightness seeps in below the edge of the pillow. The double futon isn’t very spacious. 

The speaker crackles and she cackles at some shitty video. The noise has you rolling to face the wall. She’s so oblivious. Or maybe she doesn’t give the shit. It’s not so different than the trailer. She never did try to keep it down. 

You get no peace even as she falls asleep. She snores like a broken lawn mower. You toss and turn as your grandmother’s cigarette smoke tickles your throat. 

Your life wasn’t grand before. The double-wide was no palace but it was better than this. You huff and give in to insomnia. You stare at the ceiling as frustration boils to rage. 

You can still hear his laughter. Tony Stark is in his fancy robotic suit with his overpriced haircut and blatant nonchalance. He didn’t give a shit that he just destroyed a home. To him, the idea of living in that is laughable. And laugh he did. 

The echo of his amusement irks you until you can no longer lay still. You shimmy to the bottom of the bed and climb off. You snatch your phone from the charger and pace around. The floor creaks under your feet. 

Didn’t he say he’d replace it? Maybe some things can’t be bought but you still own the lot, at least for another month. You just need something to put there. He said so. He owes you. 

So, where the heck is your trailer? 

You push your thumb down without thinking. You type, letting the vitriol stream out of your thumbs.  

‘Tony Stark destroyed my home and my life.  

Right now, I’m at my grandma’s house. Again. Me and my mom have been forced to seek refuge in her guest room. The smell of tobacco and cat piss is so pungent I could choke. I can’t sleep on the futon shared between the both of us and in the morning, I’ll turn in for a minimum-wage job and when I get my check, I still won’t be able to replace what he ruined. 

Four walls. That’s all we had and now we have nothing. Because that playboy, billionaire, douchebag didn’t look where he was flying. He may have saved New York but he has burnt our life to the ground. Literally.’ 

You attach one of the photos you snagged of the wreck. You took as many as you could hoping that the park might be able to use it for an insurance claim. Your heart thumps as you hit post. The little blue line fills up and the check mark flashes. 

You feel better. It’s always nice to be able to vent your problems and you can’t do so with your mom. She’ll just pick apart your words until it’s your fault. And your grandma can’t be bothered to listen either. She would only rant about how she’s stuck with a bunch of losers. 

You plug your phone back in and crawl back onto the futon, fitting in between your mom and the wall. You can get a few hours in before you have to drag yourself to the deli. Tony Stark can take whatever he wants but he won’t steal any more of your sleep. 

After another bout of restlessness, you sink into a shallow haze. You awake with a stone behind your forehead. You take some Advil as you climb out of bed. Your mom continues to snore as you dress in the musty clothes borrowed from your grandma. She’ll begrudge you those along with that the water you use to shower and brush your teeth. 

You leave the house in silence. You yawn and light up your phone on the way to the bus stop. You have to transfer from this route to your usual.  

Huh. That can’t be right. 50k? That’s absurd. You press down on the notification and it brings up your post. 

Oh. It’s real. Your post has blown up. Fifty-thousand. That’s pretty good but it’s hardly viral. If anything, the fanfiction girlies probably think it’s a fic preview. 

You put your phone away as the bus approaches. You dumb a handful of change in the machine as you board and find a seat near the front. Your head bobbles as your eyes droop. Now you can sleep. Huh. 

You open the deli as usual. You set to slicing the days orders and get the breads in the oven. The doors unlock just after eight and the usual customers mill in. When John gets there after ten, you step aside to check your phone. 

No way. A million. It’s impossible. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. A post on the internet isn’t going to get you your trailer back. It will die out soon enough. Maybe you should just delete it. No, that feels wrong. A shitty thing happened and you have a right to be unhappy about it. So, you will and you’ll scream it at your phone screen. 

You put your phone back in your apron and go back to work. The virtual world doesn’t matter. Esther wants her turkey breast. 

[slvttyplum]

✮⋆˙ oil change | toji fushiguro

synopsis: this mechanic wants to get paid, but in another way

contents: lowercase spelling, not ethical, car sex, fem nicknames, smut.

getting an oil change was hell; it always ended in you paying extra for something you didn’t need. you couldn’t even speak up because you weren’t sure about all the parts.

that’s why you started going to stanley's; he’s a friend of a friend and works on the dirt road with three other friends.

he never scams you and even gives you little touch-ups for free.

“you’re a pretty girl; let me do this for ya.” he’ll say it every time, and you’ll always oblige. as long as he didn’t touch you, all is well.

it was that time again—the oil change. as much as you appreciated this new place, the drive down was hell.

the road was extra rocky as you pulled into the parking lot. a man outside pouring something on the ground, his head turning, and your eyes meeting.

shit.

you quickly divert your eyes and turn off your car. your eyes slide back up, and you notice his attire.

he works there; oddly, you’ve never seen him.

grabbing everything out of the car and walking inside the small building, the smell of garage and gasoline.

miles, a long-time worker, flashes you a smile while tapping his pen.

“didn’t think i’ll see you so soon. what do you need, princess?” his eyes flicking to the computer, then back at you.

“i’ve been on the road a lot, and i realized it’s time for another oil change.” a sweet smile on your face.

tapping his pen some more, he writes something down, then begins typing on the computer.

“stan’s out today, so i don’t think he can do it.” a sigh releasing between his lips, you’re almost devastated until you remember he gave you a voucher.

“ah, he said i can get it free this time since i helped his daughter with something.”

miles looks at you, then back at the computer, a smirk crossing his lips.

“mm, you’re a sweet girl. i hope you’re not lying.” shooting you a wink, he rips off the piece of paper he was writing on and walks outside.

just the basic information and what not, you begin walking to the side of the room where the chairs are, but a tap on the shoulder stops you.

“oil change for pretty girl?” a deep voice sending chills down your body, for who?

you turn around, looking face-to-face with the man you saw outside; his build is strong, and he has a grumpy look on your face.

awe, how cute.

“sorry?” you say, your hand balling up the paper and the other slipping in your back pocket.

“miles, he said that’s what they call you."

your eyebrow lifts up, and you chuckle to yourself at the name. how corny can men be? but hey, free service is free service.

“oh yeah, here, i’m sorry.” you quickly unball the paper, giving it to him, his big, rough hand sliding over yours.

he slides his thumb over yours as he takes the paper, his eyes squinting and reading it as he looks back at you.

“aight, give me 15.” he says, walking off, his broad shoulders and back pressing through the uniform, he was fine as hell.

you walk over to the seats, flopping down, crossing one leg over the other, and resting your elbow on the small table beside you.

the bell rings from the garage door as the dark-haired man walks in. your eyes flicker to his face, then to his name tags as he walks closer.

“toji…” you mutter out. he’s standing there holding out the paper, a black streak on his face and his hands covered in debris.

“here, i heard this one is free, but i don’t know how i feel about that.” his hand running through his hair as he stares you down.

your mouth is open, and you’re stunned, not really planning on spending money and not really wanting to, but then again, he was the one who did the change, not stanley.

“that’s fair, toji, was it? i can give you a twenty.” you take your purse from around your arm, digging in it, and he shakes his head.

“nah, nah. you can me in another way, mama.” his body coming a little closer, hiding all the light from the window that was in front of you.

your eyebrow lifts up when you see he’s a little too close, shifting up in your seat and clutching your purse.

“like what?” your voice echoed off the walls of the small enclosed space.

a scoff escaping his lips as he puts a hand in his pocket and leans down, his lips near your ear.

you’re so nervous that you’re almost shaking.

“you look too good to pass up; i just wanna have a little fun, yeah?” the silence after his words sends a chill down your spine.

your eyes were staring at him, and a tiny sparkle could be seen setting in your pupil.

a pen could be heard dropping; did you even want that? clearing your throat, you quickly stand up.

your body is directly pressed against his. startled. you try to step back, but his hand is too fast, sliding around your waist.

the silence between you two is suffocating, but yet again, it was arousing. a light scent of his cologne whiffing by.

"okay," you say, your back straightening as he slides his hand down. a smirk can be seen if you look closely.

“after you, princess.” his voice was low and deep. you move his hand off your waist and into your hand as you walk to the parking lot.

you slip your keys out of your purse, unlocking the car door. his body hangs over the door as you slide in, his elbow resting on top of the car.

“car sex, classy.” he chuckles, getting in after you, slamming the car door, and immediately unbuttoning his attire.

the windows were tinted, so it calmed your nerves, but the fine man in front of you made your heart race.

sliding off your shoes, you feel your pants unbuttoning. looking up, you see toji undoing them for you, sending butterflies to your stomach.

“i can do it," you say, pushing his hand off and unzipping your pants.

he laughs, pulling off the t-shirt he had on under, revealing his greek-sculpted body.

with his skin glistening from sweat and his abs sitting up just right, clearing your throat, you finally slip off your pants.

“knew you had something nice under there.” he blurts out, pushing off his jumpsuit, now completely naked with nothing but his briefs.

“i could say the same.” you say, slipping off your shirt, completely forgetting you had on no bra.

his mouth hangs open but quickly returns closed when you cover them, he licks his lips, leaning forward.

“no need to be shy; i’ll take good care of you.” his quiet whisper making you feel tingly, like a waterfall forming in between your thighs.

damn, were you that easy? no, no, no.

his hand comes up, caressing your sides, slowly inching towards your hips, leaning closer towards you.

your face moves on its own, and before you know it, your lips are connecting, your soft lips hitting his instantly and moving in sync.

his head turning to the side as he kisses you deeper, his tongue swiping over your lip and instantly moving in.

a sensation between your legs being made, and you let out a moan into his mouth, your eyes darting down seeing his hand in between your thighs.

quickly shutting your eyes and getting immersed in the kiss again, his large, rough hand gripping your hip.

spreading your thighs out, letting him in. his finger swipes down your slit, then to the side of your panties pushing them to the side.

he disconnects the kiss, sighing, leaning up, and picking up both your legs, causing you to gasp.

“these are getting in the way.” he puts both your legs up, having them lean on his hand as he slides your panties off.

the air instantly hitting your heat as you let your panties fall on the floor, the warm heat hitting your cheeks with embarrassment.

maybe this was a bad idea. you try to lean up, but toji leans down, placing a kiss on your lips, then your jaw, wet kisses all down your body.

he stops at your stomach, looking directly into your eye; your throat is dry with nervousness.

he pushes your thighs back, looking directly at your cunt, sliding a finger down your wet slit, causing you to let out a tiny moan.

“a little taste can’t hurt, right?” before you could even answer, hes leaning down and placing a kiss on your warm pussy.

even his kisses felt good, the butterflies swarming in your stomach. he takes a swipe of your pussy causing you to shiver.

sliding a finger over your slit a couple of times, then sliding it in with no warning, a moan escaping your lips.

“don’t wanna be too loud; that’s if you don’t wanna get caught, princess.” his words sent a pleasurable tingle down to your heat.

your hand arm reaches down, and placing your hand on his head, he looks at you, smirking, before swiping a long, wet stripe over your slit.

he leans in some more as his tongue swipes over your clit, pushing his finger into you some more.

taking another swipe of your slit, he curves his finger up and pushes it further back, his lips pursing and forming an o shape as he sucks on your clit.

“fuck…” you moan out, your hand balling into a fist as you grab his hair.

he keeps sucking your clit for a few seconds before leaning up, his body almost pressing against the roof.

leaning down, he grabs his uniform and digs in the pocket, pulling out a condom. you squint your eyes while reading the wrapper.

XL

you swallow hard, eyeing him down, his black hair hanging low and his dark eyes looking down at the wrapper as he pulls it to his mouth and bites off the top.

he quickly slides his briefs down, his hard length plopping on his stomach, the tip passing his stomach.

toji laughs when he notices your shaken expression, carefully lining himself with you and slipping on the condom.

“no need to look like that; i told you i’ll take care of you, yeah?” your eyes flicker at him as he leans down and slowly pushes himself into you.

“wait…” you try to finish your sentence, but he’s already pushing himself into you. he leans down, placing a kiss on your lips.

you wrap your arms around him, and he puts one hand on your waist, the other balancing himself on the side of you.

you can feel him getting deeper inside of you, his warm lips taking you in whole.

he slowly disconnects from the kiss, placing a kiss on your jaw and then your chest, sliding his tongue over the same spot, then sucking.

a soft moan escaping your lips as the tingling sensation from the sucking and him getting fuller inside you.

his eyes never once left your face, making you nervous. no hesitation, he slides out of you and thrusts into you with full force.

“FUCK!” you scream out, your arms sliding off his neck and your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

that doesn’t bother him; he continues sucking your chest, taking all of you in and pushing into you deeper.

he slides his tongue over to a new spot on your chest, sucking there, another moan slipping out of your pretty mouth.

when he slides out of you again and pushes back into you, your eyes bulge out, feeling a sharp sensation of pleasure deep inside you.

“go harder, toji.” you whimper out, he doesn’t hesitate, and he goes even harder, pushing into you deeper.

your head pushing against the car door, he grips the seat as your nails dig into his skin.

he leans up, a spitstring from your chest and his lower lip connecting, his eyes sliding down to your lips.

he leans down, pushing his lips into yours hard as he pushes into you deeper; this time you could feel it even better.

the pleasure heightened, your eyes sliding back, nothing but darkness and blank white spots scattering around.

you couldn’t see anything, but you could feel how close he was—your lips connecting, his wet lips combing with your soft ones.

“you feel so fucking good," he grunts out, pushing deeper inside you. the car slightly shaking, causing your head to push into the door.

his pace gets faster, your walls clenching around him, taking in everything he’s giving you, and your body feeling light.

his body slamming into yours and his flesh combining with yours was everything; your body felt like it was on fire, getting drenched out with water.

pushing into you again, your walls clench around him tight, your body jolting, and a knot deep in your stomach falling.

a loud moan ripples into toji’s mouth as he pushes deeper inside you, giving your sweet spot a kiss.

“tell me… tell me you want him.” he grunts out, trying to slide out your tight, wet pussy. the grip he had on your hip tightened, his fingernails digging into you.

a soft moan escaping, you squint your eyes and open them, his still on you. he places a kiss on your jaw and leans into your ear.

“i want you… so tell me you want me.” he says, his voice still deep. he slides out of you, then back into you, a cough erupting from your throat.

he leans back to your face, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. your eyes are low and dark, and a tiny tear drop in the corner of your eye.

all you can do is nod. you felt too good; you couldn’t ruin the moment with words. he was close; you could feel the veins on his dick pulsing against your slick walls.

all he could do was laugh, but he couldn't. the pleasure bubbling inside of him couldn't, and a final thrust sends the both of you over the edge.

your toes curl, and your fingernails dig into his skin, along with his whole dig into your hip. he places a final kiss on your jaw before pushing his chest against yours.

his grip on you loosening, your body shutting down, your hands falling to the side, and your eyes closing.

the silence was sharp but comfortable. you slowly opened your eyes, and his head was laid against your shoulder.

his hair was disheveled and his breathing heavy; you could see his eyes closed and no discomfort in his body language.

he looked cute. before you could get any more thoughts out, his eyelids flickered open, and your eyes diverted elsewhere.

laughing, he slowly leans off of you, pushing his hair out of his face and picking up your panties and handing them to you.

the both of you get dressed up in comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other.

“when you come back, i’ll give you services for free.” he says, buttoning back up his uniform, his eyes locked on you.

your eyes lift up in surprise as you flatten down your hair, a smile sneaking on your face.

“no need. thank you for the oil change." you say, putting your purse in the front seat.

you’re about to open the car door before he grabs your arm.

“let’s grab a bite, dinner, whatever; let me take you out.” desperation coating his tone. you smiled and let out a chuckle.

“sure, toji, text me; my number should be in the system.”

with that, he went back to work, and you went back home with a stupid grin on your face. whatever happens, happens.

[sophsbookstore]

Monaco Nights

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Word count: 934

A/N: sorry i've been gone everyone! My school just finished school so now I will hopefully have more time to write!

Charles comes home in a grumpy mood, after Ferrari continuously flopping, and little to no points for the team once again, his unsuccessful weekend is heavily affecting his mood. He arrives at Y/N’s apartment in the middle of the night, knocking on the door, hoping she's awake to comfort him.

A small knock and the sound of buzzing from her phone woke her up. The girl checks her phone, noticing a text from Chalres saying he is outside. Y/N as well as Charles’ family have been watching the races, they all understood how hurt the driver must be feeling after another devastating weekend for Ferrari.

Y/N gets out of bed, sliding some slippers on as she makes her way to her front door. She opens the door, the pair looking at one another before Y/N holds her arms open for Charles. He gladly lets himself in, holding his girlfriend as tight as he can before the pair pull apart and walk deeper into her apartment.

Quietly they walk over to Y/N’s bed, the girl getting under the covers as Charles anxiously sits above them, staring blankly at the decorated wall in front of him. Y/N watches him in silence wondering what was running through his mind.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Y/N whispers inching herself closer to Charles.

“How did this happen, me and carlos? I'm just,” he pauses, “Im at a loss for words I guess.” he falls back onto the bed, his head now laying on the pillow. Y/N cuddles into him, placing her head on his chest.

“I'm sorry I'm over so late, I was just too anxious to go to sleep.” Y/N lifts her head, resting her chin against him, now looking at him face to face. 

“You know what my mom and I used to do when I couldn't sleep?” Charles looks at her and shrugs. “We would go on a walk.”

Y/N lifts herself off the bed, going to her closet to put on a pair of walking shoes and one of Charles sweatshirts. Grabbing an extra sweatshirt for her boyfriend who came empty handed. Charles lifts himself from the worm mattress and takes the sweatshirt from Y/N’s hands.

“So where exactly are we going?” Charles questions the determined girl in front of him.

“We are going wherever our legs take us, or at least until we get tired enough to head back.” Y/N smiles at her boyfriend, taking in everyone of his features before reaching her hand out for Charles to take.

Gladly, the driver locks his hand in hers, the pair leaving the apartment, Y/N locking the door behind them. The pair makes small conversation as they exit the building, keeping quiet, not wanting to wake up anyone around them.

When they finally make it outside the moon shines brightly above them, Charles takes a moment to look up, taking deep breaths as Y/N starts stretching beside him. Once she's done the pair start their walk hand and hand around Monaco. Y/N still being fairly new to the city, Charles acts as her tour guide, pointing out all the major touristy spots while giving her little historical facts about each part.

Y/N could tell the walk is getting him out of his head and calming him down. No one loves Monaco more than her boyfriend and seeing him talk about his love for his hometown just makes this walk all the more special.

The pair find their way to the doc, Y/N wrapping her arms tighter around herself feeling every breeze around them. Charles shows her everywhere, taking her closer to the beach letting her get a closer look at the blue water.

“It's so pretty.” Y/N lets the warm surround her hand, before pulling it out and turning back to Charles.

“It is very pretty, I really want to take you and my family on my yacht, especially with the summer weather it would be perfect.” he looks out at the ocean ahead of him.

“I would love that.”

“Perfect.” Charles and Y/N start walking back to the street. The couple taking in all the sights and sounds. “Your maman is a smart woman, the walk is helping…a lot.” Charles says, directing his attention back to his girlfriend.

“She is isnt she?” Y/N smiles, “I'm glad you're feeling better, do you wanna maybe head back now?” Y/N tries to hide her yawn.

“Of course mon amour.” he pulls Y/N closer, giving her a small kiss on the forehead before the pair walk back to Y/N’s apartment arm and arm. 

When they get back, Charles holds his hand out to take Y/N’s keys, unlocking the door for them as he holds the door open for his girlfriend who goes straight to her bedroom. Charles locks up behind her, taking his sweatshirt off, going through Y/N’s drawer to see if he had left pajamas there. Luckily he had.

The pair change quietly before slipping back into Y/N’s bed to cuddle. Y/N falls asleep first, her body cuddled into charles for warmth and comfort, Charles arms wrapped tightly around her as he admires his girlfriend.

“Thank you mon amour.” he gives her one last kiss before falling asleep.