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miley1442111 · 2 days

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i wanna kiss you on the mouth -s.reid

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a/n: i am back from the dead! hello, i was gone for the past few days because school and work is hectic but rest assured i am back :)

summary: both of you are completely unaware of your feelings, but you speak too loudly and your feelings are confessed.

pairing: spencer reid x bau! fem! reader

warnings: none

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Spencer had only been thinking of you every day for the past 4 months. From the moment he woke up, to the second his head hit the pillow. You were on his mind.

It’s weird he tried to convince himself. You were his childhood best friend, who’d just moved to Washington. You were a year older but just as intelligent, if not more, and you were conversational and interesting. You had people skills that he could only dream of, and a smile he could only dream of. Which he did. Dreamt of you a lot. Usually you were his girlfriend, or occasionally his wife. Sometimes you were clothed... others he wasn't exactly proud of. But it wasn't him technically, it was his subconscious. Right?

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“We have a new case,” Penelope grimaced as you rolled your eyes, clearly hungover from the night prior.

“Bad date?” Derek mused and Spencer’s muscles tensed.

“I don’t even remember Derek, all I know is that I woke up in someone else’s bed,” you chuckled.

“Cheating on me?” He mocked.

“Always,” you smirked, lowering the sunglasses on your eyes to give him a wink, one which made him laugh.

Spencer’s chest tightened. You were going out. You had casual sex. That was fine, you’re an adult. He shouldn’t be bothered. You two hadn’t spoken in years before you joined the BAU 4 months ago.

“Pretty boy?” Derek repeated. “Are you alright? You’re not listening.”

“S-sorry! Just… thinking…” he trailed off as the conversation flowed again, ideas and questions filled the room as they continued the briefing.

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The jet was not much easier. You were smirking at your phone as the others napped or looked over the case file.

“Who’s that?” Emily smirked, looking over your shoulder.

“My maybe-boyfriend,” you smiled back as her face lit up. Spencer’s heart dropped. You barely look in his direction most days. You don’t talk to him. You clearly don’t care about him. Yet here he is, upset over the fact that you might have a boyfriend. “Kidding, my apartment complex’s group chat is going off right now because someone is playing music really loudly. My neighbour is threatening to kill the old woman in 35 with a kitchen knife,” you chuckled as Emily deflated, but read the messages aloud, which made the entire jet laugh. Spencer smiled along, an ease in the weight on his chest.

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You were exhausted. You hated this. You hated being so close to Spencer and not feeling able to talk to him. You hated how much you wanted him, needed him. You hated how little attention he paid to you. You didn't like going on first dates, much less sleeping with the asshole that was 'Josh' but he had a similar vibe to Spencer and you'd needed a release.

“Fuck,” you yawned, allowing your eyes to drop for a few seconds before Derek hit the back of your head to wake up. You groaned in response as he laughed. “Fuck you.”

“Come do it yourself,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes. “Anyways, how is it going?”

“I’ve narrowed down the geological profile from Spencer’s initial one-”

“I mean ‘Project Reid’!” He gossiped. “Have you even talked to him yet?”

“Derek,” you grumbled, resting your head against your hands. “He doesn’t want to talk to me, he doesn’t even fucking like me!”

Derek internally rolled his eyes, irritation bubbling at the both of you. How could two of the most gifted profilers he knew not realise the goo-goo eyes they were sending each other while the other wasn’t looking?

“He likes you plenty,” he sighed. “Ask him out! Talk to him.”

“He does not like me!” You squealed. “Spencer Walter Reid does not like me, in a friendly way or a I-want-to-kiss-you-on-the-mouth way! Stop pushing something that will not happen, despite how much I want it to!”

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As Spencer approached the conference room, his weary eyes tired as they focused on your figure. You looked beautiful. Spencer always thought you looked beautiful.

What.

You liked Spencer? You wanted to kiss Spencer. You just amditted to liking him.

“What?” Spencer’s voice from behind you startled you as Derek laughed. “Y-you want that?”

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“What?” Spencer’s voice from behind you startled you as Derek laughed. “Y-you want that?”

You stared in Derek’s direction, willing for him to leave. Thankfully, he got the message immediately and left swiftly. Leaving you and Spencer alone together. Maybe he should’ve stayed.

“Umm… yeah. I’ve like you since we were kids, but y’know… life got in the way-”

You were shocked. Spencer Reid, shy Spencer Walter Reid had just cut off your sentence with a kiss.

What was going on?

His lips were soft (he used lip balm often, clearly), his hands rested tentatively on you waist. But the kiss. If you could describe kissing Spencer Reid in one word, it would be hungry. He kissed you with as much passion as you would assume someone to give to their partner on their wedding day. He was blanking your mind with this insanely mind-blowing kiss.

“I really like you too,” he smiled. “I an I-wanna-kiss-you-on-the-mouth kinda way. Like I really want to do that again,” he smiled again and you couldn’t help but kiss him. His hands landed on your waist, more comfortable than before as your arms circled his neck.

Maybe all his overthinking about you was too much. Maybe it was just that simple.

You liked each other.

In an I-wanna-kiss-you-on-the-mouth kinda way.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (CRIMINAL MINDS, marvel, top gun, the bear, the hunger games, challengers, obx+)

#criminal minds #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #bau #spencer reid fanfic #matthewgraygubler #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 3 days

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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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ktgoodmorning · 2 days

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Sleepy

Claudia Pina x reader

every time you're around Claudia, you end up falling asleep on her.

Just lots of soft and fluffy :)

Masterlist

You had only been dating Claudia for a short while, but there was something about her that made you the most comfortable you had ever been. Every time you were with her, you immediately let your guard down and finally allowed yourself to relax. It wasn’t even a conscious reaction, just something that happened, not even realizing the little habit you had fallen into until the rest of the team started to notice.

…

It was only a few minutes into the movie when your head leaned to rest on your girlfriend’s shoulder. You were having a movie night with a few of your closer teammates when you started to drift off. At this point, everyone else had noticed the way the two of you were constantly falling asleep every time you sat down together, but the two of you still hadn’t picked up on it. All you knew was that you loved snuggling up with your girlfriend and if that led to a short nap, then so be it.

“Well Pina, at least we know that if football doesn’t work out you could always get a job as someone’s pillow,” Patri giggled at her best friend as she was only met with Pina’s furrowed eyebrows in return.

“What are you talking about?”

This time Vicky took the chance to explain it as Patri was still proud of herself for her joke and laughing too much to do it herself. “She’s literally always sleeping on you every time you get the chance, and half the time you’re asleep too!”

Even though it was all in good fun, your girlfriend got someone defensive at all her friend’s jokes and only pulled you in tighter against her side, grumbling to herself in Spanish as she did so. When your friends noticed her immediate change in mood, they quickly tried to defend themselves from her wrath that they knew she could unleash on them if she thought they were being mean to you. “Hey, it’s not a bad thing, we’re just having fun, Clau.” Patri raised her hands as if to surrender while you continued sleeping next to her.

“Well she’s my girlfriend so sorry if I don’t like it when you talk about her like that.” she continued grumbling in an attempt to avoid snapping at them and waking you up in the progress.

“Pina, seriously. We’re not trying to be mean. It’s cute, okay? You two are just always snuggled up together, it’s sweet.” Patri gave her a look that made it clear how sincere she was being, a look that only her best friend understood. She was genuinely excited for Pina to finally be in a happy relationship that clearly put her at ease.

The brunette gave her best friend a nod as everyone turned back to the movie playing in front of you, letting her annoyance with her friends disappear when she looked at your face resting peacefully against her. The look on your face instantly put her at ease, causing her to rest her head against the top of yours to keep watching.

It had been her turn to pick the movie tonight, something that was a coveted honor within your group. Because of this, it should’ve been easy for her to pay attention and engage with it.

It should’ve been.

About ten minutes later, Claudia had joined you in your nap, much to the dismay of everyone else in the room as they whispered at each other. No matter how much they would tease you both, they still weren’t trying to wake you up.

“Are you kidding me, she was the one who wanted to watch this stupid movie?!” Vicky was the first to complain, as she typically was when she got the opportunity to tease you, but Jana was quick to defend you both.

“No, but you have to admit it’s kind of cute, the way they’re always falling asleep together. Pina never got a normal amount of sleep before she got with (y/n).”

“It’d be a lot cuter if it wasn’t during our movie nights! Especially when she’s the one who insisted on this!”

“Hey! Will you guys be quiet, you’re gonna wake them up!”

Cata rolled her eyes at the way Patri was sure to defend you, “They’re not gonna wake up, they slept the entire bus ride yesterday and it was only an hour. And that was with all of us yelling and dancing around the whole time, I don’t know how they do it.”

“Patri don’t you live right by here, why don’t we just go to your place and watch something there so they can keep sleeping?” Everyone seemed to be in agreement with Jana’s voice of reason and quietly made their way out, not before cleaning up some of their snacks and pausing the movie, knowing how badly Claudia wanted to see it, even if she fell asleep so soon into it. Patri sent you both a text to let you know where they went on the off chance one of you woke up, even if the odds were low.

…

Neither of you woke up until hours later when your backs started to hurt from the way you were balled up on the couch.

“Clau, what time is it?” Your voice was rough from sleep, only cracking your eyes open slightly, surprised to not see any of your friends left in her apartment.

The brunette only responded with a groan, adjusting herself slightly but still holding tight against you. Her lack of response made you decide to check yourself, digging in the couch cushions for your phone. “Baby, it’s almost eleven, everyone went to Patri’s when we fell asleep.”

“Don’t move, I’m comfy…” she mumbled into you, hardly coherent, only making you giggle against her.

“If we sleep like this any longer, we both know we’re gonna regret it in the morning. It’s late, we should get you to bed, and I should head home.” When you started to move off of her, she only pulled you back.

“Wait, don't get up… not yet. You can stay over, if you’d like?”

“I don’t want to interrupt your sleep, Clau. You need rest for training tomorrow.” You wanted nothing more than to stay over and sleep all night in your girlfriend’s arms, cuddled up in her blankets, breathing in her scent. However, the last thing you wanted to do was intrude, especially when you knew how little sleep the midfielder typically got.

She pushed herself to sit up, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to, but I sleep a lot better when you’re with me. You don’t need to worry about messing up my sleep,” she paused for a moment, unsure if she should bring it up. “And I think you feel the same, no? The girls were talking about it earlier when you first fell asleep.”

Her last statement left you confused. Why would your friends be discussing your sleep? Or your relationship? Claudia seemed to see the confusion on your face and took the opportunity to continue on. “They were talking about how we’re always falling asleep on each other and I guess I didn’t realize it until they said it but they’re kinda right. Everytime I’m with you I’m just so comfortable and relaxed that it puts me straight to sleep and I think you do too.”

The second she said it, you thought back to all the times you used your girlfriend as a pillow. Every flight you took, you’d pass out on her shoulder before the plane even took off. The number of bus rides the two of you would curl up together, instantly tuning out all your friends being loud around you. There were a few times where one of you fell asleep in the passenger seat, holding hands as the other drove. Or on the beach, in the midst of sunbathing, pinkies linked together so you could be together without messing up your tans. You couldn’t even count the number of movies you missed, sometimes alone with Claudia, sometimes with all your friends around, annoyed that you were missing it. Anytime you were laying on the couch reading, if she sat down to join you, you’d instantly pass out next to her. There were a couple times she even fell asleep against you when you sat next to each other in the locker room after a long day of training (that one always earned you lots of teasing). She would sit down next to you in front of your locker, throw her head on a shoulder with a long sigh, and instantly fall asleep.

But nothing was better than when you got to spend an entire night together. Nothing felt more at home to you then being engulfed in Claudia’s arms, getting the best sleep of your life. You would always be sharing some form of physical contact while she muttered soft words of love to you.

“I love the way your hand fits in mine.” That was for when you were both too warm to be cuddled up close and were only connected by your hands interlocked between you.

Or when her head was nuzzled into the crook of your neck and she would always mumble into your skin, “You smell so good, mi amor.” Usually when she did that, it’d leave you in a fit of giggles from the way her nose tickled against your skin.

You loved when she woke up next to you and you got to tease her for the way her long hair was all over, usually in your face as well as her own. No matter how much you’d tease her for her messy hair, she’d just mumble, half asleep, “I love when your voice is the first thing I hear when I wake up.”

Anytime you had to wake her up, you loved the way her face scrunched up and her eyebrows furrowed, only holding onto you even tighter, not wanting to leave your little bubble of peace.

You didn’t even realize that she was equally as obsessed with your time sleeping together until she said it. There was nothing Claudia cherished more than when she’d be tracing soft patterns through your hair and ask you, “do you like that?” And you always responded with “I like everything you do, Clau.” and cuddled into her side further.

Thinking about all your naps together brought a small smile to your face. You hadn’t realized it until she said it, but she was absolutely right. Being in her presence brought you a level of comfort that you rarely experienced. Of course it put you to sleep; it was the only time you weren’t stressing about everything else going on in your life. The second you were with her, your mind was put completely at ease and all your problems melted away. It wasn’t that you were just so sleep deprived you couldn’t stay awake, it was just that you were completely at peace with everything when you were together.

…

“Amor, will you please stay over?” When you snapped out of your thoughts, Claudia was looking at you with puppy dog eyes and sticking her bottom lip out at you, a face she knew you had a hard time saying no to.

“You know I would have said yes even without the face?” her pout broke into a smile at your answer.

“I needed the face to make sure of it! That’s the money maker here, amor.” All you could do was roll your eyes and shake your head at her as she pulled you up to lead you into her room. If the puppy dog eyes were all it took to get you to spend the night with her, she’d be using them even more often, because she couldn’t have been more excited to continue your habit of passing out in each other’s arms.

Can we tell how much I love naps? Always looking for requests!

Masterlist

#claudia pina #claudia pina imagine #claudia pina x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #woso one shot #woso x reader #fcb femini #espwnt #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingclaudia

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nicksbestie · 2 days

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Nightmares - M. Sturniolo

Summary : the one where your boyfriend struggles with sleeping, but one night you find out why.

Warnings : nightmares, anxiety, panic attacks. read at your own discretion.

Word Count : 1364

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : gotta love a little angsty fic every now and again! <3

Matt didn’t sleep much.

Well, he slept, but it wasn’t at the time that he should be sleeping, and it never seemed like he slept well. He always seemed to be tired, dragging, and there were permanent dark circles and bags under his eyes. He always insisted that he was fine, but he was never able to hide the truth from you, as you saw the consistent yawns when he thought you weren’t looking. You had also seen the clips that Nick had no other choice than to edit out of car videos where Matt had nodded off in the front seat. You both knew if those had gone onto the Internet, their fan base would have gone inside, and none of them wanted to deal with clearing up the rumors that would start flying, or seeing all the edits of a sleepy Matt to soft or sad audios, complete with a load of pity.

Matt hated being pitied. It was one of his least favorite things in the world. He wasn’t someone who genuinely believed that he was too tough to have feelings, or that he never needed help, but he hated when people felt bad for him just because they felt like they had to. Matt was strong, mentally. Growing up as a kid with a lot of anxiety had shaped him that way, but he wasn’t someone who thought that they were impenetrable. Unfortunately, this didn’t mean that he easily asked for help. He did try to hide it for as long as he could, because normally a side of pity came along with the help that he needed to receive. So, whenever you pointed out that he was yawning, or that he had slept incredibly late into the afternoon, he brushed it off by saying that they were out late filming the night before.

He used this excuse even when Nick confirmed that they had been home the previous night, the video for that day having been pre-filmed last week. You never called him out on the lies, wanting him to trust you, and come to you with whatever was wrong when he was ready. Your relationship was new, and you didn’t want him to feel pressured by you or uncomfortable with you in any way. You were always there for him whenever he needed anything, and he knew that better than anyone, so you firmly believed that when he was ready, he would come to you. You were taking baby steps in your relationship, both of you learning about the other person every day, having a few wobbles but always getting back up, the strong attraction between the two of you being enough to make you keep working towards a happy, stable, and long term thing.

You couldn’t deny that you were in the honeymoon phase right now, and while you were enjoying the happiness of being with someone who cared for you so deeply already, you were worried about him. The bags under his eyes were only getting worse, he was only sleeping later and later into the afternoon, and oftentimes, he was still awake and texted you back immediately when you texted him your usual good morning text. You were beginning to grow extremely concerned, feeling like this was more than just his bad YouTube filming schedule causing the lack of sleep. You talked to Nick and Chris first, making sure that you weren’t going crazy and imagining it all, and they confirmed your concerns, telling you that Matt had refused all of their help as well. They were worried, but at this point, there wasn’t much more that they could do without him opening up to someone.

Nothing happened until your first night staying over with Matt. You hadn’t spent the night with him yet, your schedules were not lining up, and you had declined one night because you were so nervous about it. You didn’t want any expectations to be there, because you weren’t ready for some things that could be implied from the first night together, but you felt like you were comfortable around Matt, and your nerves eased. It wasn’t planned, you had just been curled up with him after coming over for dinner, and when you had yawned against his shoulder, Matt had simply suggested that you stay there for the night. When you brought up the fact that you didn’t have clothes, he offered his own, and since you were tired and didn’t want to drive back home, you agreed.

It hadn’t taken you long to curl up against Matt, his warm presence, comforting touches, combined with being wrapped up in silky soft sheets, and being in your boyfriend’s clothes, ones that smelled like his cologne and laundry detergent, caused you to fall asleep in his arms within only a couple of hours. As usual, Matt was still awake when you fell asleep, since he normally didn’t rest for many more hours, often waiting until the sun was rising and peeking through his window blinds. But this time, Matt fell asleep a lot earlier than he intended to. He felt comfortable next to you, being in your presence calmed him down, and it was only another hour or two before he fell asleep. He caught the time before he fell asleep, just past midnight, and that was the last thing he processed as his eyes slipped shut. Unfortunately, they didn’t stay closed for long.

You woke up, eyes slowly blinking open as you tried to process the scene in front of you. You heard muffled cries next to you, and panic immediately coursed through your veins. Your eyes raked over Matt’s body, facing away from you, his shoulders shaking. You gently laid a hand on his shoulder, and he jolted away from your touch, his head turning and eyes snapping to see you. When you made eye contact with him, you noticed that his eyes were bloodshot, and they were full of fear. His forehead was coated in sweat, and you had no idea what was going on. You pulled him into a hug, noticing the way he clung to you, before speaking.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

He just shook his head against you, the slow rolling of tears beginning to stop as he was wrapped up in your presence.

“Nightmare.”

You frowned, kissing the top of his head as you kept him close to your body.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It’ll be okay, it was just a dream. Everything is okay now, I’ve got you.”

Matt furiously shook his head, denying your statement.

“It isn’t okay. I can’t go back to sleep. It’ll happen again.”

Laying there in the dark, holding your boyfriend in your arms, you connected the dots. His poor sleep schedule, how he always seemed tired, how he never slept without being able to see a peek of the sun. This was a recurring issue.

“This happens every night, doesn’t it?”

You could feel the nod against your chest, and your heart broke for him.

“Oh, love. It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m not leaving, I’ll stay up with you, or I’ll hold you so you can sleep. If it helps, I’ll stay over more often.”

He didn’t verbally respond, nor did you feel him move against you, but you knew he had heard you. You laid there, comforting him, rubbing his back, hoping to help lull him back to sleep, and after about another twenty minutes, you heard him yawn. You gently coaxed him to close his eyes, staying up for another hour after he dozed off again, and held him tightly. You fell asleep after about an hour and a half, feeling confident enough that he wouldn’t wake back up, or at least you hoped he wouldn’t.

You woke up about five hours later, around eight in the morning, to the sun creeping through Matt’s open window blinds. You noticed that Matt was still sleeping peacefully, so you slipped out of bed and closed the blinds, before getting back into bed with him. You were going to let him rest as long as possible, and you’d do anything to help keep his nightmares at bay.

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0

@sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

@dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack

@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo @graysturns @certifiednatelover

@bitchydragonparadise @haunted-headset-alt @skyslondon @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @alivzstuff

@satvisfavetoodles @zivall @elliesturniolo1 @elliewrites1

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

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hecateslore · 2 days

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Can we please get a papa Simon where their three children are teens and they swore off having another but lately reader has been feeling irritated, craving weird shit missed her period and overall snappy for no reason. Simon has his suspicions….

Aka pregnancy scare.

I've been thinking about giving the Riley family another baby EVEN THOUGH I said reader doesn't want anymore bc she's scared but I might just 🤭

"I'm gonna go lay down." You mumble to yourself, your hand over your forehead. You'd been feeling fatigued and bothered by all the loud noises the kids and Simon were making.

"What's the matter?" Simon noticed your state, your eyelids were heavy and you were so much quieter than you already were. "Just tired." You say, rubbing your throbbing temple. Simon nods watching you walk upstairs to your bedroom, confused from your change in attitude.

The next couple of days, You were slept more, spending half of your day in bed, getting up occasionally to try and eat, but losing your appetite. Something felt off, there was a feeling so nostalgic that you couldn't place. In the distance you can hear Simon hurling into the toilet, "Babe?" You yelled from your spot on the bed, the sounds guttural, making you cringe.

You get up from your bed, checking the restroom to see Simon bent over resting his head on the sink, "Simon?" You called out, worried for him, He looks up staring at you through the mirrors reflection. "Can you do something for me?" He asked, his voice hoarse from throwing up saliva. "I'm gonna buy you a pregnancy test.." He started, and you immediately protest, "I'm not pregnant." You scoffed shaking your head.

And there you were in your grocery's line, waiting to pay for a big bottle of water and three pregnancy tests. Once you leave the store, you get back in the car, sitting silently, annoyed because maybe Simon was right. You forgot to update your period tracker, that happens, but everyone forgets... right?

When you two get home, the kids are in the kitchen, barely awake eating cereal in silence. "Where'd you go?" Your daughters raspy voice startles you, "To the store." You say quickly, opening your water, chugging it. Your kids stare at you with wide eyes. Simon only shakes his head, silently telling them not to ask. Once you're done you wait a couple minutes for the water to do its thing.

Simon on the other hand- had his fingers crossed, hoping there would be another baby. He'd been asking since the boys turned 5. Your answer always being if it happens- it happens. And it did.

"I'm pregnant." You say mostly shocked, holding the test showing it to an also very surprised Simon. "What!?" Jude looks at you two, then looks at his siblings. "I told you!!" Simon starts, "And You said-"

"Simon Shush." You hold your finger to your lips, "I'm gonna go lay down because I'm extremely exhausted," You say softly, "And then when I get up, we'll figure out what the next step is okay?" You look at everyone in the room, your head pounding, "So," You clasp your hands together, "From this point on, everyone is going to be as quiet as possible because my head is killing me." You spoke to all four of them like children, they all nodded, staring at you with confused eyes.

#lunden’s response ❀—#papa!simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost simon riley #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

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willowser · 20 hours

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i keep thinking about touya going to the same spot he and his ex do drop off, every two weeks. it's outside some little bakery that he thinks is too expensive—and he has a sneaking suspicion that's why his baby mama chose the place—but he always buys his little bug something regardless. a pink pastry with lots of sprinkles and frosting, in the shape of a unicorn or something or other.

and you always come with him. have been for a few years now and you make friendly small talk with his ex and when his daughter jumps into your arms, you swing her around and you both giggle to each other, foreheads pressed together, eyelashes blinking close enough to make his heart swell.

and the first time you're not there, his daughter doesn't wait a minute after jumping out of her mom's car to frown up at him and ask, "where's bub?"

and truthfully, touya's been dreading this moment since he'd pissed you off enough to have you storming out of his apartment, a few days ago. still doesn't know what to tell her, how to explain that he's never loved someone the way he loves you and yet he's sabotaging everything anyway.

"bub is at bub's house."

her light little eyebrows pull down ever further, until a crease forms between them, and then she even takes another look behind him in case he's joking. "why?"

touya grinds his gum between his teeth and tells himself it's better than a cigarette. "she just is."

his ex doesn't say anything, thank god, but he can feel the once over she gives him. he looks like shit and he knows it, because he's aggravated and disappointed in himself, and all the things he'd normally use to deal with those feelings would break his sobriety. so he's only got some spearmint gum.

his daughter doesn't say anything else until they're in their seats on the train, her by the window, drawing shapes in the fog her breath makes. they go through a tunnel and the light from the day disappears and she loses interest, turning to stare up at touya as he closes his eyes and leans his head back as far as it can go.

"are you and bub mad at each other?"

touya opens his eyes, but stares only at the ceiling of the train. all he can see is the hurt on your face when he'd yelled at you, the anger that he drew out, like a poison. "it's—" one thing he tries not to do to his kid, however, is lie. "somethin' like that."

she shuffles around in her seat until she's facing him fully, leaning her head against the back of it as she blinks her big, blue eyes up at him. "did she be mean to you?"

"no."

"did you be mean to her?"

it seems so complicated, when touya thinks about it. why he'd started a fight with you, where his insecurity comes from, why he wants you so bad but is too afraid to admit it out loud—but then his kid makes it seem so easy. so silly.

touya shuffles until he's facing her, too, and even scoots down in his chair so they're eye-level, almost like whispering school girls at a slumber party. "yeah," he admits. "i was kinda mean to her."

"but why?"

touya frowns and still doesn't know what to say. the city skyline opens up behind her, out in the distance, and he watches the setting sun over the buildings until it starts to make him sick. "you remember when you had that scooter, and you fell and scraped your knee?" she nods. "and then you didn't want to ride it anymore because you were afraid you'd do it again? it's...like that."

not a single look of understanding comes across her face.

touya sighs and scoots back upright, bending to dig his phone from his pocket. "you wanna talk to her?"

"yeah!"

he pulls up your contact in his phone—just your name and all the hearts removed, because he's petty like that—but instead of staring at it like he has been for days—he finally calls. it wouldn't surprise him if you didn't answer, but he gnaws his lip as it rings, and it seems like he and his little girl both hold their breath.

"hello?"

when he hands off the phone to his daughter, she happily snatches it up, turning on her knees to look out the window as she grins. "hi bub!"

and touya still doesn't know what to say or how he'll fix it, but he finds some comfort—some of the words—when he hears the tone in your voice change, all sing-song and adoring. "hi, my angel!"

#cw children #✿ thoughts: dabi/touya #i've been thinking about this all day #his daughter IMMEDIATELY is like #🤨🤨🤨 uh ???? 🤨🤨🤨#you forgot to bring something dad #LMAO #this is trash garbage but i'm sleepy 😌#✿ theme: dad dabi/touya

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withwritersblock · 3 days

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Think Later

~think later by Tate McRae~

Author's Note: Requested! I love this song so mf much Summary: Jack and Luke's sister is in town to visit when she finds a different Devil's player more interesting Warnings: implied smut, a very brief mention of toxic relationships Word Count: 1,585 Nico Hischer vs. Hughes fm!reader

Jack pulled his gear from his shoulders, letting out a huff of air. The team had beaten the Bruins in a 4-2 win. Where he scored two goals. He was excited to get out of the locker room because his older sister was in town. Her flight landed an hour before the game started, she barely had to time to go to Jack’s apartment and drop her bag off.

“You guys going to Jerry’s?” Nico asked. It was bar and restaurant that the team liked to go to after they won games. Or even after horrible losses. Jack shot a look towards Luke across the room. Luke took a deep breath.

“Our sister is in town, she might want to just go home,” Jack offered. Nico perked upward, a smirk toyed to his lips.

It was safe to say, he has crushed on Y/N since the first time he met her. It was during Jack’s rookie season, she stayed with Jack for a few weeks. Jack was struggling emotionally for a lot of his rookie year, and having his older sister in town was simply enough to help him get through it.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jack pointed towards Nico. The locker room was pretty empty at this point, most of the guys had showered and left already. Luke furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he whipped his head around.

“I wasn’t-” Nico started but Luke interrupted.

“She just got out of a relationship,” Luke let out as he walked towards Nico.

“I said I wasn’t thinking about it,” Nico defended as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m gonna hit the showers,” Nico continued as he had a small smirk on his lips.

It took another twenty minutes before both Jack and Luke left the locker room to see their older sister Y/N waiting for them. Luke smiled widely as he quickly made his way towards her. She gladly opened her arms for her youngest brother.

She was technically the oldest. She was older than Quinn by twelve minutes. A fact she constantly reminded Quinn of. She was the only Hughes kid that lacked any interest in hockey, other than her brothers playing. She was a theatre kid, which was a complete one-eighty to what her parents childhoods were like. Her brothers were always more than supported.

She felt teary-eyed as she engulfed her younger brother in a tight hug. This was the first time she saw Luke play in person in the Devils jersey. Her ex-boyfriend was a really difficult guy and wouldn’t let her travel on her own. He never wanted to spend the money to travel, so she never went to see the games. She was tightly wrapped her arms around his neck tightly.

“Good job, Lukey Boy,” she let out as she pulled away meeting his eye. He smiled softly as he blinked away his own tears in his eye. She moved away from Luke towards Jack. “What a game, J,” she mumbled as she hugged him tightly.

“Thanks, how are you feeling? Up for Jerry’s?” he said as he pulled away, his eyes slightly teary. She nodded dramatically.

“Oh god, my rich brothers buying me drinks all night? How could I say no?” she asked as she stared walking towards the parking garage, blindly hoping they’d show her where Luke’s car was.

They stepped into Jerry’s to see the entire bar was the team and their partners. The three of them walked towards the bar. Nico was sitting alone, nursing a beer as he kept his gaze on the TV screen replaying their game. It was in the middle of the first period. Jack patted on his shoulder, pulling his attention towards him.

“Nico, you remember our sister, Y/N!” he let out loudly, over the noise of the bar. Nico met Jack’s eye for a second before he turned his gaze towards Y/N. Her eyes widened slightly as she met his gaze. The smirk on her lips quickly went away as fast as it appeared. Jack gave him a visual warning, a small head shake. “I’m gonna get us drinks, Lukey what do you want?” Jack shifted his attention towards Luke.

“Nico, it’s nice to meet you again,” she offered as she stood beside him, close enough their arms could touch at any moment. He turned his gaze towards her, his heart beating hard against his chest.

“You too, Y/N,” he licked his lip as he shifted his gaze towards Jack and Luke behind her.

“What do you want?” Jack asked smacking his hand against her back. She jolted suddenly, looking towards the bartender.

“Tequila soda extra lime, please,” she expressed. The bartender nodded as he began to work.

“Are you sure? Tequila may not-”

“Jack,” she scolded. He nodded reluctantly as he leaned against the bartop. Over his entire life, he knew to never argue with his older sister. She was feisty and could easily ruin him. She turned her gaze back towards Nico.

He never once looked away from her features. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t breath as she was so stunning. She knew it too. The second she met Nico’s gaze, she pursed her lips forward. She tried to not smile.

“Bold choice,” Nico muttered as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. They were glossed with a red color. She shrugged slightly.

“Boring choice,” she pointed towards the beer in his hand. Nico dropped his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Trying to act all tough in front of your teammates?”

“I don’t need to try, I am,” he never wavered eye contact as he brought his beer towards his lips. He took a small sip.

The bartender slid the tequila soda towards her. She smiled politely towards the bartender as she brought the glass towards her lips. Taking a sip, it tasted perfect.

“At least my drink has flavor,” she mumbled as she took another sip. Jack and Luke got their beers and were long gone, didn’t want to stay to witness Nico hit on their sister. Or even worse, their sister play along.

“It has flavor,” he defended, taking a sip of the beer. Cringing at the taste, her eyes widened as she chuckled. He smiled, “Didn’t say good flavor,”

She leaned towards him, sliding her glass over, “Go ahead, try it,” she expressed. He clenched his jaw as he reluctantly placed his beer down. He hesitantly took a hold of the short glass. “Come on it’s so good,” she offered as she delicately rested her hand onto his forearm. He smirked towards her as he took a small sip. He quickly pulled his face away, his face scrunch together.

“Oh that’s awful,” he barely got out.

“Oh come on!” she groaned out as she pulled the glass towards her, “You’re joking,” she let out. He shook his head, quickly pulling beer towards his lips.

“No, that was horrible,”

It had been an hour since she showed up to the bar, and it was pretty obvious that her and Nico were into one another. Jack would show up between them every so often, trying to shut down whatever was happening but it wasn’t working.

“You know, I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” Nico let out as he tilted his head to the side. He scraped at the label of his beer bottle. She squinted her eyes slightly.

“Why’s that?” she pulled her lip gloss from her front pocket and slowly started applying it to her lips.

“Jack doesn’t want me involved with you,” he let out. She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“He can’t control who I talk to, or who I get involved with,” she explained confidently. She shoved her lip gloss back into her pocket as she hopped off the stool. She seductively ran her hand across his arm, slowly gripping his bicep.

“I live across the street,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. She nodded as she slowly ran her hand down his arm again, interlocking her fingers with his.

“I just got out of a bad relationship,” she explained, meeting his gaze, “Bad in more ways than one,” she let out. Hoping he caught on. He nodded as he cleared his throat.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he stood up from his stool, guiding her towards the bar exit. Y/N’s met Luke’s gaze from across the bar.

He tried to hold in his laughter as he watched Nico drag Y/N out of the bar. Luke smacked his hand against Jack’s arm. Jack and Dawson both shifted their gaze towards Luke. “Caps hooking up with our sister,” he let out, subtly pointing towards Y/N stepping out of the bar. He started laughing. Dawson tried to keep his laughter inside as he saw Jack’s angry expression.

“That motherfuc-”

Nico continued guiding Y/N across the street towards his apartment complex. They stepped into the lobby, he nodded towards the receptionist as he walked towards the elevator. He pressed the up button multiple times.

“Think once is enough,” she whispered. He rolled his eyes playfully as the doors opened. He took a hold of her waist, pulling her inside.

“Once is never enough,” he muttered as he pressed the button to his floor. He quickly guided her towards the back of the elevator, devouring her lips in the process.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled against his lips as she ran her fingers through the ends of his hair.

#nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagines #nico hischier #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #nj devils #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils

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suiana · 14 hours

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(yandere! prince x female! reader) (for @violetvase) (again im sososo sorry for the late commission catch up😭😭😭) (tw: implied dubcon mentioned?)

"you know i'm mad at you, right?"

he mumbles, staring outside of the window. you gulp nervously, not daring to break the cold tension as you nervously sit at the foot of his bed.

alas, you had been captured by him, freedom forever gone as you had to face the consequences of leaving your dear ex crown prince turned king alone.

you yelp as he suddenly turns to face you, looking at you with cold eyes.

"but you've birthed our two lovely children and... i cannot imagine how they'd feel if they saw their mother miserable."

the king mutters, a hint of a smile gracing his lips as he approaches you slowly. he stops right in front of you, a gloved hand caressing your cheek fondly as he smiles softly. though his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"how shall i ever punish you for such a grave crime, hm?"

he mocks, hand gripping your chin tightly as he forces you to maintain eye contact with him. you could only muster put whimpers, shaking under his gaze as you remain silent. you didn't want to anger him even more than you already had.

"say something darling. i want to know how i should punish a queen who ran away from her kingdom and husband."

he hums, relishing in your behavior and silence. finally, you learnt your place, haven't you?

"mn... maybe I'll put another baby in you?"

he suddenly mutters, looking at you with glee in his eyes as you immediately sputter, shaking your head. no! you didn't want more kids! especially if you didn't really want them in the first place!

"just kidding. having too many kids will be bad for you."

he chuckles, patting your head as he lets go of your chin. it's as if he could sense your every emotion and feeling, manipulating you by keeping you guessing about how he's going to punish you.

"i think I'll just punish you by placing a pretty little collar on your neck. one embedded with jewels and the prettiest of laces."

he hums, hand drifting towards your exposed neck before his eyes darken. you avert your eyes from him, staring down at your lap as you chew on your bottom lip. damn... it was going to be super embarrassing... oh well, at least it was better than another baby.

"I'm being very lenient because I don't want my children to be mentally deprived of a mother. don't disobey me again, understood?"

he speaks up, tilting your head up to meet your gaze yet again.

"I don't want to hurt you, please understand. i just need to... remind you that your place is beside me."

you nod, obeying silently as your husband chuckles softly. you really don't want your punishment to be worse so you'll just suck it up and pamper him for now.

"that's a good girl. i love you."

he mumbles, kissing your forehead before sitting down and cuddling into you. you stare at his innocent behavior, eyes softening slightly as you hesitantly lean into his touch.

man, it's always moments like this that cause you to forget that he's crazily devoted to you. you wish. he were more sane, maybe then you'd be able to fully love him.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere prince #yandere prince x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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diettwistup · 2 days

Text

HALF OF YOU

PAIRINGS: tashi duncan x f!reader, art donaldson x f!reader, patrick zweig x f!reader

SUMMARY: No matter how bright Tashi Duncan shined, her best friend, Milan Mikaelson, wasn’t far behind. Though seeming second best, Milan would never let that define her career. Holding as much fame as Tashi, Milan encountered Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson. Would this encounter change the trajectory of her life, and would it completely alter her relationship with Tashi Duncan?

WARNINGS: challengers spoilers, reader is milan mikaelson, sexual situations, language, angst, plot alterations.

WC: 3.9K

NOTES: hey y’all!!! so excited to be posting the first chapter of this story. manifesting my edits are all good LOL. enjoy! 💋

READ BEFORE THIS: INTRO

____________________________________________

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTIONS AND EMBARRASSMENTS

US OPEN TOURNAMENT- 2006, 2:00 PM

Sitting down on the hot bleachers, I put my sunglasses on and adjusted the braids in my hair. Sucking on my teeth and brushing my fingers across the hem of my uniform skirt, I let my eyes gaze at the large crowd of people accumulating.

Damn Tashi, you always know how to make a bang.

Crossing my arms and softly laughing, I let my mind wander back to my match yesterday.

I had lost to the girl who would be playing Tashi for the championship. I really don’t know if that was a good or bad thing. On one hand, I lost from a bad call when I was so close to the end. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have to battle my best friend and get absolutely decimated, as she would say.

As I continued to lose myself in thought, two boys, blonde and brunette, moved through the growing crowd and sat in front of me.

You’re kidding me.

Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson—the “fire and ice” duo—had just won their doubles match, if I’m not mistaken. How could I be when their trophies were sitting right on their laps?

There's still a ton of seats open, and they choose to sit here?

Rolling my eyes and crossing my arms, I pushed my sunglasses up, waiting for Tashi to come out.

Staring at the door to the locker rooms, I clicked my tongue in boredom before grabbing the tournament pamphlet to look at everyone’s stats.

“Don’t you wanna meet Tashi Duncan?”

My ears perked at this as I put the pamphlet down and narrowed my eyes at the brunette boy.

Whoever said eavesdropping was a bad thing…

I had to hold in my laughter as they began to talk about Tashi and how she was the entire package. Telling her this later would be the highlight of my week.

“What about Mikaelson, you know her?” Patrick asked as he slung his arm around his companion.

I froze at this and tilted my sunglasses down to better see the two of them.

“Of course I know her. Have you seen her play? She’s fucking hot.” Art added with a smirk as he attempted to whisper, failing miserably.

My face heated up at this as my eyes narrowed at the boys.

Do they not realize the person they’re talking about is behind them?

“Agreed,” Patrick started as he pulled his friend closer. “She’s also got a fat ass.” He laughed as Art chuckled along with him.

Gag.

Closing my eyes and pretending I didn’t hear that, I heard cheers and claps from around, signaling that Tashi had come out of the locker room. The chair umpire immediately began to talk about her stats and how she was the best female player in our division.

I happily clapped as I beamed at my friend, her eyes scanning the crowd and locking with mine, a large smile playing on her features.

“Fuck, did you see that? Tashi Duncan just smiled at us…” Patrick exclaimed in awe as he pushed Art in the chest.

“Shit, I missed it.” Art complained before leaning back and adjusting himself in his seat.

I almost had to cover my mouth to hide the vomit that was about to let loose.

Dumbasses.

After a few minutes, Tashi’s match began, of course, in her favor. Everything was perfect: her serves, backhand, line receives, counterattacks, and every single step she took.

I smirked widely as I watched Tashi decimate the bitch who, unfortunately, decimated me.

Patrick and Art watched Tashi in awe for the first ten minutes of the match while commenting on how amazing a player she was.

I snorted at this, wondering how long it would take to notice who was sitting behind them.

On the next serve, Tashi’s opponent hit the ball out, but the line umpire declared it as in.

Standing up immediately, I pointed a finger and yelled at the top of my lungs.

“What?! Come on, Tash, don’t take that shit!”

Everyone else agreed with me as the crowd began to roar in protest of the shitty call.

Lost in the moment, I hadn’t realized that Patrick and Art had turned around and stared at me in horror and awe.

“Oh,” I started and took off my sunglasses. Did I yell in your ear?” I looked between them before looking back up at Tashi.

“Fuck, you’re-“ Patrick started in a slightly panicked state before I cut him off.

“Milan Mikaelson? Yeah, I’m guessing you two know me.” I spoke with sarcasm as I kept my eyes trained on Tashi and her opponent.

Caught.

“Shit, I’m real sorry for what I said, I-“ Art started before I placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him, eyes still not leaving the game.

“Don’t sweat it, was too focused on the game to give a damn.” I lied straight through my teeth as I pretended to act nonchalant.

I could feel both of their eyes staring long and hard at my hand lingering on Art’s shoulder before I took it away to throw my hands in the air and yell as Tashi locked in another point.

“Come on, Tash!” I yelled and clapped with the roaring crowd, boys still looking back at me.

Sighing, I crossed my arms and looked back down at them. “Take a picture, it will last longer,” I spoke in annoyance before sitting back down and putting on my sunglasses.

All I could hear were muffled whispers and attempts to counteract my statement before they turned back around and shared we’re fucked looks.

Stifling my laughs, I angled my eyes back to the match.

As Tashi continued to hit the ball effortlessly for the rest of the match, her win came almost naturally.

Standing up and yelling, I quickly ran down the bleachers, feeling two pairs of eyes following me. I stood against the fence and clapped loudly while Tashi caught my eyes after her victory yell and smiled widely at me.

I jumped up and down with all the fans cheering with their signs and matching t-shirts.

Running around the court to thank everyone for coming, Tashi came over to me and grabbed my hands.

“Tashi! I’m so proud!” I yelled and bounced on my heels, extremely happy with my friend's success.

“My biggest fan.” She smiled and reached over to hug me before letting go and continuing to thank everyone.

Smiling proudly at her, I pushed my braids behind my back and took off my sunglasses. Turning around, I looked back at the sea of people cheering for Tashi before my eyes landed on two figures.

What a mystery those two are…

I smirked proudly at them as their eyes shifted between Tashi walking back to her locker room and myself standing by the fence.

Patrick leaned over to Art and whispered something as their eyes darted between us. I could only see Patrick's smirk and Art’s growing grin at his friend's words.

Snorting to myself, I turned around and put my sunglasses back on.

“Fucking morons…”

—------------------------------------------------------

ADIDAS BRAND PARTY - 2006 8:00 PM

“Tashi!” I exclaimed as I weaved through a crowd of familiar and influential faces to ambush my best friend.

I could see her bright smile miles away as she turned to meet me at the edge of the dancefloor, engulfing her in a hug.

“Milan, I was wondering if you weren’t coming.” She laughed as she wrapped her arms around me and returned my hug.

Pulling away, I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Tashi Duncan, my best friend, thought I would miss out on this?!” I questioned as I gestured to the bustling party. "You must be crazy if you think I would miss out on anything that concerned you and your tennis career,” I snapped at her with a knowing smirk.

“I’ll have you know I was late because my mother insisted on making me change ten times.” I rolled my eyes and tilted my head to where our moms were conversing. I stuck my nose up and closed my eyes, annoyed at the memory of how nagging my mother was when getting ready for the party.

Immediately, she raised her hands in defense and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, Miss Mikaelson, didn’t mean to assume.” She laughed before crossing her arms.

I watched her expression change slightly as her eyes softened and lips parted.

“I watched your match yesterday,” she said, lightly treading. “I’m sorry about the loss.” She finished and brought a hand to my shoulder, rubbing it gently with a sad smile.

Flashes of my match fluttered back into my mind as a small pit formed in my stomach.

I shrugged this off and took up a carefree attitude, whereas my insides were screaming.

“It was a shitty call, what can I say? That bitch had and has nothing on me.” I smirked and made sure not to falter, but secretly, the loss had internally crushed me.

Tashi laughed, brought her other hand to my shoulder, and bent down to level our eyes. “Don't worry, I decimated her for you. Plus, at Stanford, the both of us will be fucking up bitches right and left.” She shot a cocky smirk at this as I gave her one back in turn.

Stanford. The next four years of my life with Tashi Duncan would be the ultimate dream.

Right?

I extended my pinky to Tashi with a slight wink. “Promise?” I bit my bottom lip and smirked at this familiar gesture between us.

As long as I can remember, Tashi and I have made over a hundred pinky promises. Our first one involved her letting me borrow her Barbie doll while we played house and my promise to return it. Since then, it’s been a norm between us.

I felt the confidence radiating from Tashi’s grin as she moved her right hand from my shoulder to interlock our pinkies.

“Promise.” She repeated and swung our interlocked pinkies back and forth.

I laughed like a child all over again before quickly raking my eyes across the entire party. As I scanned the crowd, I let go of Tashi’s pinky and leaned in to whisper.

“Lots of important people here, I see,” I whispered as Tashi’s eyes followed mine.

“And familiar faces too…” She responded in a lower tone, angling her eyes to an older man by the beverages.

“Shut up!” I gasped before looking back at Tashi. “Is that Mr. Reynolds?!” I asked in shock at seeing our fifth-grade English teacher.

“Yup,” Tashi responded, standing straight as she crossed her arms. She studied the older man as he scanned the beverages offered. “He was always my favorite,” she quipped, not needing a huge explanation for why he was here.

At this, I burst out into laughter, as did she.

“I thought he died years ago.” I clutched my stomach before placing a hand over my mouth and muffling my small laughs. “Wait, that’s not nice. I mean, I thought he passed on peacefully years ago.” I corrected in a serious tone as I watched the older man before glancing at Tashi and bursting into laughter again.

As I laughed with Tashi, I felt a burning feeling on the back of my head.

Was someone staring?

Wiping my eyes carefully to avoid messing up my makeup, I slowly turned around and almost froze as I locked eyes with the person, or should I say persons, staring at Tashi and me.

Oh, hell no. Is that who I think it is?

Quickly, I turned back around and whispered to Tashi in a hurried tone.

“Tash, is that Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson?” I looked her in the eye as they narrowed at the mention of the “fire and ice” duo’s presence at the party.

“Oh yeah, they’ve been staring all night.” She smirked and looked between the two of us. “Frankly, I don’t blame them.” Her smirk grows even wider, mirroring the Cheshire Cat.

Biting my lip, I remembered my earlier encounter with the two tennis players. I shuddered as I remembered their smirks and remarks about Tashi and me.

“Tash…” I said warningly, pointing my perfectly manicured finger in her face. “Please tell me you don’t have one of your ideas in mind.” I slightly scolded her, studying her face to see what she was thinking. “Those two are complete and utter idiots.” I continued as I shook my head.

She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and whispered back as she lowered my finger and sucked on her teeth. “Do you really need to ask this?” She questioned with an air that spoke obviously, are you stupid?

“And believe me,” She started and moved to fix the straps of my dress. “I know exactly how they are…teenage boys.” She snickered wider at this as I rolled my eyes.

I huffed loudly before grabbing a piece of my hair to fiddle while I groaned. “But Tash, it’s our summer before we go to college. No boys.” I retorted as the music in the background got a little louder.

Grabbing my hands, Tashi dragged us to the middle of the dance floor and forced me to dance. “First of all,” She started as she twirled me around, “This was never a pinky promise.” She spoke, wrapped her arms around my neck, and swayed us to the music.

Fuck, she got me there.

“Second of all,” She continued before touching my neck to untangle my necklaces while swaying with me. “I know you’re internally drooling over Art Donaldson. He’s exactly your type, and he’s going to Stanford.” She laughed to herself as she worked on my necklaces.

Fuck x2 can’t deny that.

I rolled my eyes and turned away, knowing I couldn’t argue either of those statements.

“You’re crazy…” Was all I could protest.

Untangling my necklaces, Tashi clapped and smiled brightly at me before putting her hands back on my shoulders. “This is gonna be a great start to the summer.” She grinned like a mad woman as we kept dancing across the floor.

After dancing, mingling, and trying not to focus on the two hard stares hitting Tashi's and my head for the entire night, I decided to go to the beach.

“Hey, Tash, I’m going to the beach for a quick breather. If my mom asks, I’ll be down there. Come down if you need anything or if I miss something interesting.” I smile gently at her while I take my heels off.

“Got it. Be safe.” She waved before going to get pictures with her family.

I smiled at her before walking to navigate the path to go down to the beach, pretending not to notice the two pairs of eyes following me.

—------------------------------------------------------

10:00 PM

I wonder how long I had been down here listening to the sweet waves ripple against the hot sand. I almost feel as if the ocean is calling me.

Imagine the escape of living on a secluded island where nothing mattered. Not school, not tennis, and not the future.

Especially the future.

Staring at my newly manicured nails, I continued to get lost in my thoughts while the ocean rang in my ears.

Shit, I’m over everything.

I reached a hand up to my mouth and began to bite one of my nails.

Do I even wanna go to Stanford?

Practically gnawing at it, I can feel the acrylic wearing off.

Doesn’t matter because I’ll be with Tashi… right?

SNAP

“Fuck…” I muttered to myself as I broke off a nail, leaving a tiny bit of blood seeping from my nail bed.

Rolling my eyes, I held onto the broken nail and rested my head on my knee as I watched the ocean.

“We’re not interrupting, are we?” I heard a deep voice ask behind me, making me let out a small yelp and nearly fall off the rock.

Quickly turning around, I was met with two, unfortunately familiar, faces.

Why now?

Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson stood before me, shoes in one hand and cigarettes in the other. Frankly, I had no idea which one spoke, and I had no care to know at this rate. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts, and they disturbed that.

“What the fuck,” I explained as I stood up from the rock and patted my dress down. “Do you know how rude it is to sneak up on someone?” I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes as I looked between the two boys sheepishly standing before me.

“Shit, really sorry, didn’t know you were here,” Patrick spoke up as his counterpart dropped his cigarette from his lips upon seeing me study his stature.

Bullshit.

“Hm, okay, well, I’ll be going then,” I exclaimed, irritated, as I bent down to grab my heels. “I hope you two have a grand time.” I sarcastically quipped as I went to walk past them and go back up the path to the party.

“Wait,” Art, almost panicked, stood before me with a lopsided grin as he flicked his cigarette bud beside him and treaded lightly as he motioned to the chairs near the rock I had just occupied. “We’d love it if you joined us, just for a chat.” He had a genuine smile on his face now.

Are they serious?

Before I could open my mouth, Patrick beat me to it as he walked to sit in one of the chairs Art motioned to.

“Yeah, just to talk. You're one of the best players in our age bracket, and it would be a real treat to get to know you as an apology for what happened earlier.” Patrick added and smirked so wide I could feel pure smitten radiating off it.

They are serious.

Both boys were now staring at me, gazes identical in pure amazement, awaiting my response.

Fuck this. Fuck me. Fuck x3.

Sighing softly and crossing my arms, I dropped my shoes, returned to the rock, and sat down.

“You get five minutes,” I spoke curtly as I looked between the boys, waiting for one of them to speak up.

Art took this chance to open his mouth, but before he could begin, I held a hand up to stop him.

“Oh, and there’s no need to introduce yourselves. Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig, the “fire and ice” duo.” I spoke unenthusiastically, keeping my eyes on Art for a little longer before angling my expression to Patrick.

Both boys stared at me with slight smirks as I adjusted my dress and grabbed a piece of hair to play with while they continued.

“Well, Milan Mikaelson,”

I inwardly shuddered as he spoke my full name.

“During your match, I thought that call was fucked.” Patrick spoke up and got right to the point. He laughed as if he remembered it as a fond childhood memory.

Almost instantly, Art chimed in to add to his friends' thoughts, a bit too eager for my liking. “I mean, that Anna girl could barely serve your entire match, and then that?” He stated as he shook his head, acting like he was scolding my opponent to her face like a coach.

My eyes lit up at this. They knew how to crack me. Bring up my pride and losses, and I’ll talk your ear off for hours.

“I think the official was blind because that bitch’s ball was totally past the line,” I explained matter-of-factly. “Did you see the way he hesitated before calling it? He probably had it in with her.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in annoyance at the memory of the loss.

“Still, you were fucking amazing out there. How did you get your backhand to be that powerful?” Art quickly added and leaned forward in his chair as if moving closer to me would allow him to understand my words better.

I let a slight smile adorn my features as I studied his position.

Fuck x4.

For the next four minutes, the three of us talked about tennis and our matches throughout the tournament. Though brief, I could quickly tell how these two relied on each other and their sport. It was definitely the glue for their friendship. I could also tell how they hung onto my every word, like a toddler waiting for his mother to let him out of the time-out-chair.

Checking my watch, I stood up and looked between the boys.

“Though this was fun, your five minutes is up.” I flashed my watch at them with a subtle smile before bending down to grab my shoes.

When I bent down, I could hear some rushed scuffles and whispers. Standing back up, I saw that both boys were also standing, very tense, might I add.

“How can we contact you to do this again?” Patrick asked with a smirk, which I presume was a signature for him.

Raising an eyebrow at him, I crossed my arms and looked between him and his blonde companion.

“Who said I wanted to do this again?” I asked as Patrick shoved his hands in his pockets with a defeated grin while Art let out a muffled chuckle.

“Come on, this was fun.” Art added and took a cautious step towards me. “Can we get your number?” He asked as he studied my face with the cheekiest grin he could muster.

I laughed at his question dryly before pointing my finger between the two boys. “We? You think I’m gonna get between this? Hell no.” I replied, walking past them to the stairs and back to the party.

Immediately, I could feel their eyes staring into the back of my head, and I wondered if they would beg or plead.

They better not.

“Come to our hotel,” Patrick yelled, making me whip my head around. “We have beer,” he grinned once he saw my interest somewhat piqued.

Fuck x5.

“It’s not far from here. We can talk more.” He gestured between the three of us and then pointed up to the party.

This made me look back to the party, about to question what he meant before Patrick chimed in.

“We talked to Tashi earlier and told her the same thing. Would be fun getting to know the beautiful golden tennis girl duo.” He chuckled as I watched his eyes flicker from my face to my lips.

This made my face heat up, but I would never reveal that. Teenage boys don’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing they have any sort of effect on me.

Clicking my tongue, I nodded at this new piece of information.

Tashi did say she had a plan in place. This could be fun.

“Maybe,” I replied as my eyes shifted between the boys.

You’re not easy, Milan Mikaleson. Remember that.

“Depends on my mood.” I finished and shot them small smirks before walking back up the stairs, not giving the boys a moment to retort.

As I walked back to the party, my eyes shut as I felt a headache coming on.

What the hell did I get myself into?

#challengers #challengers fanfic #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #zendaya #mike faist #josh o'connor #fanfic #best friend relationship #romance #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #challengers x reader

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roosterforme · 24 hours

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I Love Being 'Us' With You (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist.

Warnings: language, angst, pregnancy topics, mention of miscarriage, Carole and Goose coming to the rescue

It had been months since you used birth control. Originally you planned to stop taking the pill when you embarked on your honeymoon, but the two of you agreed to stop filling your prescription before that. For more than a week when you were in Hawaii, you and Bradley had sex at least three times a day. He was like a man on a mission. Well, several missions. He wanted to keep you satisfied, but you could also tell he wanted to get you pregnant sooner rather than later. He wanted to have a kid before he turned forty.

The first time you ever mentioned wanting to have kids, he took you home and kept you in bed for hours. And that was before you and he were actively trying. Since last fall, he had been meticulous. He knew your cycles, and he was seemingly always ready to go when you were ovulating. But it had been months, and while he was outwardly as relaxed as always, you could tell that he was starting to get concerned. You were, too.

At first, it was easy to go with the flow. "It just takes time," Bradley told you, and you agreed. You continued to keep track of your cycle. You tried to be hopeful. You had a partner. You weren't doing this alone.

But you really were.

Because as much as you knew your husband was there for you, it was your body that wasn't working correctly. It was you, not him, who was messing everything up. Every time your period started, you had to cry alone before you could regroup and let him know that another month of trying had ended unsuccessfully. With every negative pregnancy test, you felt a little bit more of your optimism crumble into something much uglier.

You were at the point where you hated your body after so many months, and of course that's when Bradley's parents asked if it was okay to come stay for a long weekend for his birthday. When you got off the call with them, you started crying.

"I don't understand why you're being weird about this," Bradley sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "It's just for three nights. They've stayed with us before. Hell, I don't make a big deal out of it when your parents come out."

You shouldn't have to explain yourself to him. You didn't even know how to anyway. "I'm not being weird! I just don't want to have to talk to them about our plans to have a baby."

"Sweetheart. They don't even know we're trying."

Maybe that was true, but it was the only thing you could think about. So you excused yourself to go cry in bed with the door closed. You could feel the cramps starting. You knew you were just days away from getting your period. You knew the tears weren't going to stop. Another month was down the drain, and you were starting to resent when Bradley would initiate sex. You didn't even want him to look at you. And now when his parents came to stay at the craftsman for his birthday, you would be ovulating once again. It would be another month of disappointment where you felt like you were on display for your in-laws to witness it this time.

-------------------------------

You were distancing yourself from him, and Bradley didn't know what to do. It had gotten so much worse in the last few weeks since his parents asked to come stay for a few days. You stopped driving to work with Bradley. You started working late. You started to schedule sex with him to the point that he was surprised he wasn't receiving calendar invitations. He wanted to have a baby, sure, but he wanted you to be happy above all else. As soon as his parents left to go back to Virginia, you and he really needed to figure this out.

"Are you listening to me?"

Bradley's attention snapped back to his dad who was standing right in front of him, holding a nine iron with an annoyed look on his face. He let his mind wander so far away from the golf course, he didn't even realize it was his turn.

"Sorry," he grunted, digging in his golf bag. "Just got distracted."

"I was telling you that I'm finally taking your mom on a cruise. It leaves the day after her birthday," Goose told him.

"Right," Bradley replied. "Got it. She'll love that."

After Bradley hit his ball a little too aggressively, his dad carefully lowered the club and said, "Now why don't you tell me why you look constipated, and why your wife cried when mom told her that Brenda is going to have another grandson."

Bradley shoved the club back into his bag, and as much as he told himself he didn't want to talk about it, the words just started flowing. "We've been trying to get pregnant since last fall, and it's just a fucking mess now. Sometimes she doesn't want me to touch her. Other times it's like she thinks we need to have sex right then and there. Honestly, I don't know how to fix this, but having a kid isn't worth it if she's not happy with me."

"Have you told her that?"

Bradley stared at his dad, letting the words penetrate his brain. "Well, no."

"Have you put pressure on her?"

Now he felt like the one who was going to burst into tears. Truly, he never meant to, but he probably had. Talking about wanting a kid before he gets too much older. Mentioning how they would have to start saving for money for college. "Shit."

Goose pulled him in for a hug, and he let the soothing feel of his dad's hand on his back calm him down. "Bradley, women are smarter than us. They pick up on everything. If you want to fix it, then you need to be as honest with her as you can be. Because I don't think you want to destroy your marriage like this."

"I sure don't," Bradley said, his voice muffled against his dad's shoulder.

"We've still for fourteen holes and plenty of time. Let's hop in the golf cart, and I'll tell you all about some of the ways I fucked up with your mom and how I managed to fix it afterwards."

Bradley couldn't help but laugh. "At least she keeps you honest."

--------------------------

You were mortified. Your hormones were a mess as you were almost definitely ovulating. You wanted to have sex with Bradley this morning before he left to play golf, but you didn't even know how to tell him that you just wanted him and not the potential to get pregnant. And now you were out to brunch with his mom as tears filled your eyes, because the couple at the next table over was younger than you and Bradley, and they were taking turns holding the most adorable baby you'd ever seen.

When you tried to excuse yourself from the table, you felt Carole's hand on your wrist. "Sweet Girl," she whispered. "Let's talk about it."

You nodded and slid back into your seat as you choked back the tears. "We're trying to get pregnant, and it's just not happening. Was it that obvious?" you asked, knowing you'd been a mess all weekend.

"Of course not," Carole told you in her calm voice that you loved so much. "I just know this type of situation very well is all."

"You do?" you asked, dabbing at your eyes with your napkin. "But you had Bradley."

"Sure," she told you, still rubbing your wrist with her warm fingers. In a lot of ways, it was always easier to talk to her than your own mom, and you were thankful that you didn't have to act like nothing was bothering you right now. "Sure, I had Bradley, but ol' Goose and I wanted a baseball team worth of kids. A whole boatload of snot nosed little critters running around."

You laughed in spite of yourself. "What happened?"

"Well," Carole said with a smirk, "Bradley wasn't exactly planned, as I'm sure you well know. He was born in June after we got married in November. I wasn't showing yet in the wedding photos, but Goose and I both knew he was there." She smiled softly as she added, "I loved being a mom to him. He was the sweetest baby in the world, and I wanted a bunch more. But you can only handle the devastation of repeated miscarriages for so long before you throw in the towel, because you realize it's not worth your sanity. It's not worth it when you already have so much. Goose and I had some long, hard conversations, but we realized we were both already on the same page."

The tears were back, and this time you could feel them rolling down your cheeks. You hated that she didn't get to have what she wanted, but she was looking at you with kind eyes as you said, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize to me," she said with a soft laugh. "I got to raise Bradley, and then I got to pass him along to you." When you nodded and smiled in spite of yourself, she added, "And I just know that he's more than enough for you, and that you are more than he ever dreamed of. Just promise me you'll have those hard conversations with him. Maybe you'll find that you and Bradley are already in agreement about your future."

-------------------------

Bradley was thoroughly unamused when his Bronco wouldn't start on his birthday. "I think it's just the timing belt," his father said as they tinkered under the hood after dinner. "Order a new part and see if that does the trick. In the meantime, you'll just have to drive us to the airport in the other car."

"Sure," Bradley replied sarcastically as he grinned at you. "No problem, Dad. We'll just all cram into the red car like a pack of clowns."

"It's not that bad!" you said as he pulled you in for a hug. You already felt better after spending twenty minutes last night promising each other you'd spend even more time talking after you dropped his parents off for their red eye flight back east.

"It's so bad, Baby Girl," your husband whispered into your hair. "I don't know if their suitcase will even fit in the trunk."

"Stop being dramatic, Roo."

Of course the suitcase fit. And all four of you fit, too. You let Bradley drive so he wouldn't complain about the leg room. He parked in the garage at the airport, and you and he walked Carole and Goose inside the departures door, taking turns embracing them before they dropped off their bag and headed through the security gate.

"Listen," Bradley said, reaching for your hand and giving you a kiss. "I know we said we'd talk when we get back home, but I need to apologize to you." His brown eyes were sincere and a little sad as he led you back outside and said, "There's nothing I want more than you and me together. Safe and happy. That's it. If we don't have a kid, it's not the end of the world, and it's certainly not the end of us."

You smiled up at him. "I agree. I don't want to think about it like a chore any longer. If it happens, then that's amazing. If not, well we can always regroup and talk about other ways of becoming parents. Or we can just be us."

"That's music to my fucking ears," he crooned, pulling you in close against his body. "I love being us with you."

Before you could assure him that you felt the same way, his lips were on yours, hard and heavy, taking your breath away. The scrape of his mustache and the way his hand kept sliding lower on your back until he was palmig your butt reminded you how badly you wanted him, just because he was your Bradley. You moaned into his mouth.

When you broke the kiss and looked up at him, a cocky little grin bloomed across his lips. "I have an idea, Sweetheart. Call it an extra birthday gift."

"What is it?" you gasped, already trying to consider how much you and he could get away with in the nearly deserted parking garage. But he was a step ahead of you.

Bradley unlocked your car, handed you the keys, and unbuckled his belt. He eased himself carefully onto the backseat, rubbed his thigh and braced his big foot against the center console. "Come here," he coaxed, and you climbed right in.

-------------------------

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster fanfiction #if you ask emily #b&bg #roosterforme #is it working for you?#top gun maverick fanfiction

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dead-girl-tells-stories · 2 days

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Not Blue, Black

Everyone always assumes that Danny's eyes are blue. He’s shown pictures of his family before and his dad’s eyes are blue, and so are his twin brother’s and his daughter’s, and his big sister’s. So his must be too! Well, his mom seemed to have this weird purple thing going on so no one was too sure. And no one seemed to care either way, especially not Danny. Besides, why would anyone care about eye color when they had such an amazing young man working alongside them?

Danny was the perfect intern. He’s always on time, never giving trouble, always giving helpful suggestions, and good at not only his job but everyone else’s too, making it handy to have him around the office. He was also the workplace hottie, with many guys and girls hovering around him, desperately trying to make him theirs despite him announcing himself happily married the first day he got here. (Everyone knew who his husband and wife were since he couldn’t help but show them off every chance he got. Everyone knows they’ve got no chance, but one can dream.)

He also seems to light up just about whatever room he happens to be in. Just his presence alone made even their shittiest days in the office seem like just tiny inconveniences in the eyes of the universe. Unless he himself was pissed, which didn’t happen too often. But when he was, everyone felt it and knew to avoid him like the plague. But, other than that, Danny was an all-around good guy and was for sure going to get the job after he graduated from Gotham U.

You, on the other hand, weren’t too sure about your position in the company, as you were Danny’s antithesis, everything he was not. You were always late for reasons no one cared to understand. Just about every issue in the office was pinned on you whether you were involved or not. You couldn’t ever think about helpful suggestions and just rode off the backs of others. And compared to everyone else's good looks, you were the workplace monster.

You had a scar on your face and body you got as a kid. You got it in an accident and it deformed your right side quite a bit. It was challenging to adjust to yes, but over time you learned to live with and accept it. Others not so much. The stares you got almost daily, from everyone in the office to school, even random strangers on the street. All of them made you feel scared and sick. Like you wanted to dig off your skin and rip off your flesh and replace it all with something newer, better, more normal. But you couldn’t and had to live like this for the rest of your life. You had to live with the stares for the rest of your life.

Your only saving grace was this job, the one you were assigned to when you first got the internship. You were awful at it at first, resulting in many scoldings from the manager. But throughout the year you were here at this company, you dedicated your time and effort to be good at at least this one thing. And now you were proud to say that you were damn good at it. The best even! So good in fact that everyone decided that they would drop their workload onto you and let you handle it even if it meant extremely late nights at the office.

And that’s how you got to be here, on the company roof at 1 a.m., debating whether or not going home to actually sleep and eat would be worth the scolding you would get from the manager when you arrive to work ‘late’ again..., among other things.

You know having these kinds of thoughts was bad for your mental health (your therapist grilled it into you every time you even mentioned them to her), but it was freeing in a sick sort of way every time you thought of each scenario that could play out if you just-

“Hey!”

Jumping back to your senses, you turned around and saw none other than Danny Fenton standing right behind you. You two were never all that close in proximity before now so you only knew that he was big. You weren’t expecting the absolute unit that was standing behind you. You knew you were short but having to crane your neck to look at his face only put shit into perspective.

“Another late night?”

You only nod dumbly as he moves from behind to stand next to you, looking down at the bustling city below. A deep sigh came from him as he pulled a candy from his back pocket and popped it into his mouth. He was always eating candy. Did he have low blood sugar or just a sweet tooth?

“Same. It’s like we can never go home, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Mr. Perfect’s suffering just a bit until you realized what he meant. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Come on Fenton, just because you’ve done a few late nights doesn’t mean you ‘never get to go home’.”

You settled next to him, also looking down on the city as well. He was on his phone now, the blue light illuminating his features.

“She really never sleeps does she?” He says laughing to himself.

You were kinda pissed off now. Who was he, Mr. Perfect Intern, Daniel Fenton, to compare his suffering to yours? You practically lived at this job now, once you weren’t busy with school or something else! You even bet that after this he’s gonna go home to his nice apartment and be met by a wrapped-up dinner on the table made by either his husband or wife. (HE HAS A FREAKING HUSBAND AND WIFE FOR FUCKS SAKE!) He was probably talking about his little girl just now, and how she’s up waiting for him. Maybe she was half asleep on the couch with the TV on since she was so determined to see her Dad come home. It’s Friday after all of course she’d get to stay up way past her bedtime. He’s gonna get a hot bath and wash off dirt and grim of work, and-

Danny’s laugh was low and deep, rumbling through the air, sending chills down your spine. He turned to you and smiled his pearly whites glimmer- Wait were those fangs?

“Dude you know you mumble out loud… right?”

There was silence between you two until a bright red crept up your neck, and ever so slowly engulfed your face. Shame flooded your entire being as you cradled your face in your hands. You sighed, feeling like more air wanted to come out but your very human lungs were empty and in need of oxygen. So sucking in a breath, you looked him in the face (why can't you see his eyes?). He was still smiling, his fangs (he has freaking fangs how had you never noticed before!) poking his bottom lips making little dimples.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve been stuck here for three days doing everyone else's work. I haven’t slept or eaten or taken a shower. I-”

“I know, I know. You’ve been busting your ass for a while now so of course you’d be grumpy.”

You don’t think grumpy is the word you’d use but it was close enough.

“So how long have you been here Fenton?”

“A week.” He replied cooly, popping yet another sweet in his mouth. (Okay he needed to stop, at this rate, diabetes would be the next one to put a ring on his finger) But you were surprised nonetheless.

You’re sure you would’ve noticed if he was here for the entire week. He must have been playing games with you.

“Am not.”

Okay, you needed to stop thinking out loud.

“Look, just trust and believe that if I didn’t want you to notice me, you wouldn’t have. But I did so…” He shrugged and looked off into the distance once more.

You think that what he said is impossible, everyone notices Danny Fenton. But the office was pretty small compared to bigger companies. And if he really was there for the entire week you should have noticed him at some point of the three days you were here. You didn’t hear him coming up behind you a few moments ago either. So maybe there is some merit to his words.

“What’s got you here for so long anyways Fenton?”

He sighed, his face looking more tired than before.

“You know the project that my group has, the one we got two months ago?” You nod and he continues,

“Well, it was fine at first. Everyone was pulling their weight, excited to get it done. But then it started, again, with ‘Hey Danny, I’ve got something important to do this afternoon, can you finish this for me?’. Then, ‘Danny I'm not coming in today, do this for me? Thanks!’. And ‘Hey, Danny’s good at this let him do it!’. ‘Danny I need help! Wait no…, I actually meant that I want you to do this for me.’

Danny’ll do this, Danny can do that, don’t worry Danny’s on it! Danny, you’ll finish the project… right?

That along with the other workloads that are trusted upon me by the managers and other employees, ON TOP OF MY OWN ASSINGED WORK!”

By the time he was done, you had already recognized that voice all too well. Danny was struggling, right on the edge of his line, using the shirt on his back the make just a little more. Danny was breaking and just barely holding it together, just like you were. You never realized it before, but you notice now that, Danny’s fucking tired. Just like you.

A wet laugh broke your train of thought. His face was a bit wet, his eyes (?) red from held-back tears.

“People think that I’ve got no flaws-” A pang of guilt shoots through you as you were one of those people, “- but I do. Metric shit ton in fact. One of them is that I can’t help but to help people, even if it’s detrimental to myself. And if my sister finds out about this she’s gonna slap me upside and force me to stay home for a month!”

Another laugh rang through the air, sounding just a bit too crazy for your liking. Even so, you couldn’t help but wonder, you just needed to ask-

“Why are you telling me this?”

His laughter stopped and he turned to look at you. Like really look at you. You realize that Danny’s eyes weren’t blue like you and everyone else were assuming. His eyes were black. So black. Blacker than the night sky and deeper than any ocean. And within those oceans swam thousands of bright lights, each burning 10x brighter than the earth’s own sun! Yet they could never shine through that great abyss. It was beautiful. Danny’s eyes were so beautiful.

“Because I’m gonna quit.”

“What?” Well, you weren’t expecting that.

“Yeah, I’m going to quit. And as your good friend-” Good friend? Since when!? “-I’m going to advise you to quit as well! I predict that this shabby ass company is gonna collapse in a few months and I DO NOT want to be there for that shit show, doubt you want to be there either.”

You feel conflicted. This is the first time that you and Danny Fenton have actually spoken to each other and after basically trauma dumping on you he tells you to quit! This has to be a prank! Some sick twisted joke!

“It’s not.”

CURSE YOUR BLOODY LIPS!

Danny smiled. He looked noticeably less human now that you could see fangs and eyes, and were his ears always pointy? Dear lord is he a part of the Fae!?

“Close but not quite.”

At this point, you were pretty sure you weren’t speaking out loud and he was just straight-up reading your mind. He handed you a piece of paper and clasped his hand over yours.

“Just think about it ok? The first one is my number, so just call when you need a friend to talk to. The second is my brother’s, he thinks you’re cute.”

“What?” You look up only to see him gone as if he was never there. Looking back down you expect to see the paper gone too. But it was still there, the flirtatious message next to the second number making the tips of your ears turn red. Once again you remember that, Danny if a fucking giant, one who was now gone without a trace…

“What have I gotten myself into?”

You decided to quit the next day.

Three months later the company ends up in a scandal so bad, that even the bats are investigating it.

You decide to give Danny a call.

All I wanted to do was write a prompt about Danny's eyes... The fuck!?!?!?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp dc crossover #kinda sorta #danny phantom #there's so much lore baked into this thing it isn't even funny #inspiration hit me like a truck and draged me off the rails #if i write you one more time i'll break my fingers #i kinda want to expand upon this #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #come on me tf is this train wreck TT

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suashii · 2 days

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— 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓇 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ a lil bit of flirty teasing ﾉ pet names ( darlin' ) ﾉ interactions with kids ﾉ reader is navigating Big and Confusing feelings :3

a continuation of this farmhand!boothill fic! this might become a miniseries so if u're interested, do let me know!

“one more stop and we should be good to go,” boothill informs you, closing the door behind him after joining you in the front of the truck. his presence makes the vehicle feel twice as hot and you find yourself scooting closer to the window to widen the gap between the two of you. the task proves to be a bit difficult in the two-seat cab.

maybe you can chalk it up to the fact that you’ve gotten used to the convenience of grocery delivery services, but you’re really starting to feel like boothill is going out of his way to make this the longest, most convoluted shopping trip simply because you’re here with him. if you knew you’d be spending such a large chunk of your day with the farmhand, you wouldn’t have so easily agreed to accompany him on the errands.

it was another request, or suggestion, rather, from your grandpa. you’ve been cooped up in the house since you arrived for your getaway and the man thought it might be a good idea for you to go into town, reacquaint yourself with the locals. you couldn’t argue—your trip is currently indefinite and you’re sure you’ll end up driving yourself crazy if you refuse to go out and are only left with the company of boothill.

he may still be in your presence now, but having others around to buffer your interactions has made all the difference. the farmhand is a lot more tolerable when it’s not just the two of you—less teasing, easier to talk to. you’d even go as far as calling him… charming. though, you’ll take that with you to the grave.

and, being trapped in a car with him is a different story. you silently hope that your next destination is in the same direction as home because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take being confined in such a cramped space with him. other than his unrelenting pestering, you’re angry at yourself for stealing glances at him—the way he steers with one hand and lets the other hang out the window and how the toothpick he’s chewing looks all too natural between his lips.

you focus your eyes ahead, scolding yourself for so shamelessly enjoying the sight of him. you should be glad he doesn’t catch you looking; you’d never hear the end of it. without turning to face him, you ask, “what’s the last stop?”

“produce stand,” he speaks around the wooden stick in his mouth, slowing to a stop at the red.

you frown, confused. “we were just at the market, why didn’t we just pick some up there?”

“and betray miss alma?” the name rings a bell, you recognize it from when you would spend summers with your grandpa. he must still do business with her if boothill is familiar, and loyal, at that. “absolutely not. better quality here, anyway.”

you don’t argue because you have a feeling that he’s right. and you wouldn’t mind catching up with alma. she was always so nice when you were a kid, excitedly asking you about your time here and offering you free carrots to feed the horses back home. you’re surprised to hear she’s still running the stall after all these years.

it only takes a few more minutes to make it to the roadside stand. there are a couple of cars already parked when boothill pulls off and you can see the owners of them picking out their desired fruits and vegetables. you don’t waste any time getting out of the truck when boothill turns it off, the gravel of the makeshift parking lot crunching beneath your boots as you make your way over to the little table that houses the register.

alma is seated behind it, head lifting up from the book in her hand at the sound of car doors closing. she readies to greet another customer but her eyes light up in pleasant delight when they land on you. “look who it is!”

her voice, though slightly changed by age, is familiar and brings an immediate smile to your face. you all but run to meet her at the table she comes to stand behind. the woman holds her arms out for a hug and you reach over the table to wrap your arms around her. it’s comforting in the same way hugging your grandpa is, like nothing can go wrong while you’re safe in their hold.

“your grandpa told me you were in town,” she tells you, pulling away and slowly taking a seat in her chair. “i was wondering if you’d stop by.”

you don’t want to tell her that you’re mostly here because of boothill. “how have you been, miss alma?”

“good, good.” she beams and gestures toward the multiple cartons and crates of colorful produce. “we’re still going strong.”

you smile at that. you don’t find many places like this in the city and the small businesses that you do come upon back home don’t foster this type of community. it’s nice to see that her livelihood is still thriving. alma gazes at her work proudly before her eyes zone in on something—or someone—else. “you here with boothill?”

“oh, yeah. he works at the farm,” you tell her, though, you’re sure she already knew as much. she’s seen much more of him in the past few years than she has of you. not that you didn’t believe him, but he really is a regular.

“nice young man, isn’t he?” alma asks, looking back at you. you’re not sure if you’d go that far but you nod in agreement regardless. he’s likely the perfect gentleman to the older ladies within town. she continues, “hardworking and handsome, too.”

“yeah,” you mindlessly admit. the hardworking part is undeniable, you’ve seen that much yourself. he’s always up on time and takes his responsibilities seriously, never half-asses his tasks and is consistently willing to take on more work if it’s necessary. you only concede on the handsome bit because boothill isn’t around to hear you say so. you hope alma isn’t a gossip.

“are you seeing him, dear?” she inquires.

“seeing him? like dating?” you ask for clarification. alma only raises her eyebrows. she does mean it like that. the question makes the tips of your ears grow hot, makes your heart feel like it’s beating against your ribcage infinitely faster. you quickly wave your hands in dismissal, smiling nervously at the woman’s assumption. “oh, no. no, no.”

alma laughs at your denial but something hidden in the sound makes it seem as though she can see right through you. she doesn’t push the matter and while you’re grateful to leave the discussion at that, you can’t help but wonder what gave her that impression, if it’s simply an old lady’s wishful thinking or if you aren’t as good at suppressing those confusing feelings as you thought you were.

“boothill!” the call of his name gives you a start. you almost think alma is calling him over but when you reassess the voice—how little and high-pitched it is—you calm down. your eyes search the small crowd for the man and you find him quickly, though he isn’t alone. there’s a little girl at his feet, one who’s hugging his legs tightly and looking up at him with stars in her eyes.

you don’t have time to wonder about who she is before alma explains. “that’s my granddaughter. sweet little thing. you should go meet her, she’ll love you.”

“sure.” you offer the woman a short wave before making your way over to boothill and the girl. you can pick up on tidbits of their conversation as you approach—boothill asking how much she’s missed him and the girl telling him “this much!” while opening her arms as wide as she can. he laughs and takes the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, situating her on his hip. he even takes the hat off his head to place it on hers. it’s big on her, covers her eyes and requires her to push it back so she can see.

the whole exchange is cute, not something you’d expect from boothill. there’s a lot that you don’t know about him, you think as you watch.

the girl must feel you looking because her head turns in your direction which causes boothill’s to follow. you smile at her and wave and when you’re finally close enough, you greet her. “hi there.”

“hello.” she isn’t as excited as she was when she realized boothill was here but she’s still kind, returning your wave with one of her own. your conversation ends before it truly begins as she turns back to boothill. there’s curiosity swimming in her eyes and she doesn’t attempt to lower her voice when she asks him, “is she your girlfriend?”

your mouth falls open in surprise at the girl’s bold question. boothill laughs heartily, whether at your reaction or the question itself, you’re not sure. you don’t know if you trust him enough to answer honestly but before you can tell her no, the man is already speaking. “nah.”

relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. he meets your eye with his next words. “she’s real pretty though, ain’t she?”

he’s doing it again, putting you in a tough spot, one that urges you to run away rather than face the situation head-on. but this time, he knows that you know running away here would only cause a scene. you aren’t jumping at the chance to embarrass yourself in public so, even though you’re tempted to put as much space between you and boothill as possible, you plant your feet to the ground and stay put.

the girl in his arms looks at you again before eagerly nodding. “very pretty!”

“thank you, sweetheart,” you tell her with a soft smile. you try to keep it in place when you turn to address boothill. “are we ready to go?”

“almost,” he answers, crouching down to return the girl to the ground. the girl doesn’t look thrilled at their time being cut short but boothill, still at her level, playfully pinches her nose in hopes of cheering her up. “look, i gotta finish shopping but we can talk some more another day. maybe ask your mom if you can come ride the horses soon.”

“okay!” she places the hat back on his head, gives him a goodbye hug, and waves once more at you before skipping over to her grandma—presumably to share her enthusiasm at the prospect of visiting the farm.

she reminds you of yourself around that age.

“so,” boothill starts, rising to his full height with a half-full wicker basket in hand, “you only capable of accepting compliments when they’re not from me?”

there’s a grin stretched across his lips like he’s waiting for a thank you of his own. perhaps it’s a little rude, a bit pretentious even, but you can’t find it in you to utter the two simple words. maybe it’s strange and maybe it only makes sense to you, but not acknowledging the words is almost as if they never traveled through the air in the first place. pretending like the words don’t exist is easier on you—your turbulent mind and your unsteady heart.

you change the subject. “what else do we need?”

“you are ice cold, darlin’.” despite the statement, boothill doesn’t seem to be bothered by your indifference. he wouldn’t take it to heart if you were truly uninterested but the man is more perceptive than you give him credit for. he doesn’t miss how you can never seem to meet his eye following his heartfelt words, how you chew on your lip while you formulate an unrelated reply, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten about that stunt you pulled in the barn.

there’s something going on in that pretty head of yours and he’s determined to find out just what it is.

you pick out a few peaches and plums for yourself and a bunch of carrots for the horses while boothill grabs the rest of the household necessities. the basket is full by the time the two of you are finished. you plan on paying for your share but boothill insists that you wait in the truck, so, after bidding goodbye to alma and her granddaughter, you make the short walk back to the car.

a couple of minutes pass before you hear the man putting the produce away with the rest of the items in the bed of the truck. a second later his door opens and he joins you, though, he isn’t empty-handed. there’s a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he holds out to you. “for you.”

you eye them cautiously, not daring to reach out and accept them.

“don’t worry, they’re from miss alma,” he tells you, lightly shaking the colored cosmos in front of you in a gesture for you to take them. “put ‘em in your room or something, they’ll look nice.”

with his urging, you take the bouquet. pinks and purples with pops of white make up the arrangement and, much to your chagrin, boothill is right—you can think of the perfect spot in your window for the blossoms.

as he starts the car and begins to back out into the road, boothill steals a quick look at you. there’s a smile pulling at your lips, soft and natural. it’s a rare sight, but one he could get used to.

he supposes that if he wants to see it for a while longer, he shouldn’t tell you that they aren’t actually from miss alma, rather, a mere suggestion from the nice lady to get him in your good graces.

thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill drabble #hsr drabbles #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

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brailsthesmolgurl · 21 hours

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PUPPY LOVE?

Preview: You had always been the apple to their eyes. How would they express their affection towards you in highschool?

Warnings: I had to make it slight-slight-slight angsty hehe, teeth-rotting fluff for comfort for my beloved readers <3 btw readers and the boys are highschool kids in this one-shot so no suggestive or anything!

P.S: This idea came to me in the middle of the night and I knew I had to burn the midnight fuel to squeeze all of my brain juice for this piece :> Enjoyyy!

RAFAYEL

You lifted your head up when you heard a chair dragged against the tiled flooring. It came to a halt and down sat the lilac haired fellow, right in front of you, his chin propped on the back of his hand as he leaned down to look at you, a smirk hung on his thin lips. Rafayel. "Someone looked like they had a nightmare yesterday."

"It's none of your business." You furrowed your eyebrows, gaze turned towards the classroom door. More classmates are starting to walk in, greeting each other good mornings and immediately getting into their daily routines of catching up or gossiping. You, on the other hand, do not really belong to any 'gangs'. You find solace within your own bubble and occasionally, do hang out with your only friend, Tara.

The purple haired individual in front of you frowned, your answer unappealing to his taste. This young man sitting in front of you is the lucky charm of your school, and almost everyone dotes on him, headmaster, teachers and students alike. Both of his parents are renowned artists, comparable to Van Gogh and many other artists throughout history books and as expected, Rafayel inherited the same talent as his parents. Rich, handsome, charming and talented, he is basically a girl magnet.

"You do not have to be so rude you know." He stood up when he heard his name being called. Reaching into the pockets of his blazer, he took out two cheese sticks and placed it onto your table. "Here, have this. Your frown makes you look like a shriveled up prune. Some cheese sticks would probably do well for you." He chuckled teasingly and stepped out of your personal bubble, heading out of the classroom.

If glares could kill, you would probably be laying on the floor motionless by now. The cheese sticks that sat at your table were attracting unwanted attention from the girls in your class. You had absolutely no idea why Rafayel would always approach you. The attention you are receiving from him does not beat the attention other girls are getting as well, not that you cared but you just find it odd. A lone girl getting so much attention from the school's celebrity, what would the others think of it? Maybe he is just trying to be friendly. That always remains the reason to your question.

Here comes the other question. You do not think you like him, but why does your heart flutter whenever he is near you? Bidding you good morning and goodbye had became a part of a routine for the both of you. Why would your heartstrings tug whenever you find another girl initiating skinship with him? Why?

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Rinnnggggg. The bell rung, indicating the end of another school day. Students rushed out like ants out of the school premises, flooding the empty hallways. You packed your things, eyeing the time displayed by the clock. 3pm. It is the perfect time for you to go to the art room to practice some drawing. You may not be an artist like the talented Rafayel, but you still do have your own fascination towards drawing and sketching.

You walked in the direction opposite of the flow, passing through the crowd like a fish trying to swim upstream. As you were nearing the art room, someone knocked you over and you fell backwards, with your bagpack being your cushion as you landed back first onto the floor. You still winced upon impact. "Oh look, it's Rafy's pet." The girl that knocked you over crossed her arms, her blond curls tied up in a high ponytail. Oh, it's the school's flower girl, Jarianne, but you guessed it. She is nowhere carrying the aura of a flower.

Sighing, you pushed yourself off of your back, not even having the thought to fight back. "Know your place would you?" Jarianne spoke, studying her oval shaped painted nails. "Rafy might give you cheese sticks every once in a while, but that does not mean anything. Don't get your hopes up, okay sweetie?" Huffing a smile, the mean girl strutted off, leaving you calculating your next steps.

Shrouded with anger, you got up and made your way towards the art room. You are ready to splash some paint onto the canvas, wanting to express your anger in a much more 'healthier' form. She was right. Who are you to be engaged with Rafayel. Someone who is a loner like you should not be in any way associated with someone of such a high status like him. You are halfway at being disappointed at yourself until you slide the door opened and you saw Rafayel in the art room.

He looked ethereal, basked in the warm light of the sun in the midst of a cloudy afternoon, his lilac hair slightly tousled on his head. His back was facing you, but you could tell with the way his paintbrush moved across the canvas with grand gestures, he is painting yet another masterpiece. Part of his uniform, the dark blue blazer and white collared shirt was messily tossed onto one of the desks nearby, and he is left in his black t-shirt. Right when you are about to leave, his head snapped around and he caught sight of you standing in the doorway with beady eyes. "Finally, you're here." Framing himself to be waiting for you this whole time. Well, he was.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you." You consciously tucked a stray strand of your brunette curls behind your ear, your face immediately turning red when you realised that you may have taken a bit longer then usual to be staring at the young man. "I'm gonna go." You turned and immediately started jogging down the hallway.

"Wait! Wait!" Rafayel called out for you, yet, you did not bother to turn back. All you could hear was the sounds of chairs creaking and a loud thud, followed by hurried footsteps.

You turned a corner and slid yourself into an empty classroom to catch your breath. When you sat yourself down, the door slid right open and Rafayel presented himself, huffing and panting as he bent himself down to slow his breaths. You were shocked of course, that he would run down the halls for you. Jarianne's words rang through your head like an alarm and it filled you with more regrets.

"You should stop talking to me." You clenched your fist, standing up, getting ready to leave. "We are not friends to begin with, so we should keep it that way." When you walked past him, he gripped your wrist and you gasped in response. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Do you actually..." He took in a huge breath and straightened his posture, now eyes meeting yours. "Are you actually so naive?"

"Look, I don't know what you are trying to do Rafayel, but I am not interested in whatever you are going to say. Just leave me alone." You pulled your wrist out of his grip but it only prompted him to hold your wrist tighter. "Leave me be!"

You slipped, and he grabbed you by your waist, underestimating the strength of his before he stumbled backwards and you ended up pressing him against the wall. The both of you had the same expression, widened eyes and flushed cheeks. Tension immediately started pumping into the air, causing your body to tense up. "Are you upset?" He broke the silence between you two, leaning down closer to you to inspect your face. "I had never seen you getting so mad before."

MAYBE. JUST MAYBE. A part of you do like him, you liked that he would only greet you in the morning and when you leave home, you liked that he would offer to teach you art anytime you wish, you liked that sometimes he would ditch his friends just to come and sit with you during recess. But, Jarianne was right. You always have this part of you that refused to accept the fact that you do indeed, like Rafayel. Just like all of the other girls out there. It's just that you are nothing special at all. You will be regarded as any other fan girl of his.

Hesitation laced in your voice. "I just don't think someone like you should be spending time with someone like me Rafayel." Your gaze dropped, feet shuffled against the floor beneath, watching the dust particles flying up into the air.

He clicked his tongue, but remained still. "You have not answered my question. Why do you think I go out of my way to talk to you everyday hmm?" Your silence was met with the continuation of his thoughts. "That's because I like you, y/n."

Your breath hitched in your throat when he confessed to you and you nervously took a step back to put more space in between the both of you. "Don't." His arms snaked around your waist and he reeled you in, nose tips almost touching. It took you a while to only realise that Rafayel is red like a tomato, the confession of his happen to be genuine afterall. His blushing expression is a sight to behold. Just like in a watercolour painting, all of the colours are harmonised, his purplish, tousled soft curls that sat on top of his head framed the outline of his carved facial shape well, with scarlet red lightly dabbed across his pale cheeks, giving the illusion of his eyes sticking out like magenta gemstones on a iridescent rubicund-white marble complexion. "I really do like you y/n."

"Why?" That is the only question you can mutter out of your mouth. You sounded dumb for a second but you would like to find out what he deemed special about you.

You can sense his nervousness when his eyes started darting everywhere and his arms withdrew from your waist. "I...You're...Uhm..." He is clearly struggling with his words. "You are different. You do not find the need to please me or to catch my attention." His words were spoken slowly and precisely, calculated even. "I like you because of the way you are, y/n. You are not like the other girls. Sometimes, when I look at you, I wanted to sketch a drawing of you, but I couldn't, because that's how alluring you are to me. No drawings could achieve that."

The way he phrased his affection towards you, was nothing of confidence but only of his vulnerability. Five years throughout his secondary days, you always regarded him to be the embodiment of confidence, carrying himself well has always been a gestalt of his. But today, you do not find that in him, all you see is this young man stumbling over every single word, self-doubt equivalent to yours hinted in his tone. He does not see himself to be worthy of you, just like you do not think you are worthy to him. The thought of it ached your heart.

"Rafayel. I...I never knew you liked me." Reaching your hands up, you patted his shoulders awkwardly, not really knowing where to position your hands. "I thought you just wanted to tease me and push me around like a plaything."

"The audacity to say that." He scoffed, face scrunched up like a shriveled prune he had mentioned to you earlier. "I don't like keeping the people I like as pets or any derogatory words you may think of, you know?" The sight of you holding onto his shoulders, eyes widened made him smile, one of his hand lightly patting the top of your head. Rafayel notices the way your lips would wobble the slightest when you tried to alleviate your own anxiety, convincing him further that you do possess the same feelings as him. He only has to figure out how to make you believe that he is not messing with your feelings and how to not escalate this sweet moment into a dramatic and awkward mess. "I don't want you to be accusing me of something so lowly anymore, yeah? Promise me?"

"But... what would people say when they see..." You gestured between the two of you, head already coming up with all sorts of accusations that would be thrown towards the both of you. "Us together? I don't want to trouble you..."

"They can say anything, but we can treat it as nothing y/n." He ran his hand down to your cheek, cupping your small face in his palm now, your face slowly warming up in his palm. "In the end, I chose you. It is only right for them to be jealous." He smiled leisurely, confidence resurfacing again. "So, would you date me y/n?"

Gnawing onto your lip, you nodded your head and looked down. You had only seen this in romance shows, where lip kisses are supposed to happen after confessions do. But you felt his soft lips collided against your forehead and your heart released sparks of fire uncontrollably. You are screaming internally as if you had won the lottery. As he pulled back, you raised your head up to glance at his facial features. Rafayel is beaming, hand still placed on the side of your cheek. As if it was cued, he managed to answer your question before you could even ask. "I will not kiss your lips until you allow me to, yeah? I will always wait until you're ready, as I respect---"

Wrong question, but does not beat the fact it was relevant to what you were initially going to ask him. Something along the lines of ‘whether are we going in for the kiss’. You decided to act upon your decision. Closing the short distance between you two, you planted your lips onto his, swallowing his uncertainty to fuel your bravery for the upcoming challenges you will have to face for being Rafayel's girl.

ZAYNE

"So, for this experiment, find someone you can pair up with to write a report based on your findings." Miss Akko instructed, placing the chalk onto her large wooden desk and scanning the crowd for any blank slates. "If you have any questions, you can always come and find me for consultations."

You looked towards the guy sitting next to you, Zayne. Ballpoint pen held in between his long fingers, gliding swiftly against the paper to create a neat yet slanted handwriting. Altough the class had ended, you could tell that he is still very much in his zone, jotting down whatever the teacher had mentioned earlier. If he could record it, you believe that would be the most viable way for him to stay on top of his grades all of the time. His posture relaxed when the last bell of the day rung. "Hey." You called out to him and he turned his head to face you. "Would you like to pair up? For the experiment?"

You had paired up with him for a few times for chemistry class. Being with the smartest kid does earn you a few perks, but he is not much of a talker so sometimes doing assignments with him would result in a crow-cawing awkwardness. "Sure." He nodded his head once and started gathering his reading materials into a pile while standing up.

Zayne has always been a man of a few words. Nodding is his most useful reaction whenever you ask him of something that he is borderline interested in. But if he does not agree with you, then he shall give you the stare that would make you question yourself about the absence of an answer from him. "When do you plan to do---"

"I will see you after class tomorrow." He cut you off, zipping his bag up and pulling it over his broad shoulders effortlessly. "Remember to bring your brain." OOF, COLD. It most likely explains why nobody would usually pair up with Zayne. More like he just refuses to.

Zayne was best known for his good looks and big brain but other than that, he does not have an appealing personality that makes him desirable among girls. Good to admire from afar but not good to interact with. Ever heard of the trend 'He is a 10 but...' . Yeah, that is Zayne's title trend. Only to people who has been in close contact with him. Yeah, he could be a dick with how straightforward he is but you find it as an admirable trait of his. He stabs people with his words, with truths that nobody would dare to say and maybe, you do secretly like him for the way he is.

“Come on Zayne, it’s not like I don’t study or help out with the reports for the past few times.” You rebutted, palms faced upwards and eyebrows knitted closely together. Zayne stood in his spot, expressionless face hiding his amusement. “So I do have a brain!”

He turned towards the direction of the door and started making his way out, not without giving his last statement. “Says the one who can’t even score a decent C grade.” There you stood, in the empty classroom, choked onto the curse words that you were about to throw at him when you heard his statement but you are sure with his lanky legs, he would have been out of earshot by now.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

TAP TAP TAP TAP… Your footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, reverberating through the empty classrooms. You were late for the meeting with Zayne because you had forgotten to bring your lunch to school today so you ended up having to run down to the vending machine to grab some quick bites. The machine however, betrayed your trust, the ultimate cliche move anyone can think of putting into a filler clip for a movie, when the snack gets stuck during the retrieving period purely because of the vending machine error. You could have easily gotten in trouble if anyone were to spot you with your whole arm shoved into the machine just to grab the item you had literally paid for.

The door slammed open with force and you were greeted with the sight of Zayne in the classroom. With a girl bent halfway down right next to him. You recognised her immediately, the long blond hair with forest green eyes, milky pale skin with a smile that could make anyone faint upon seeing it. She is the school’s student president, Nyla. The both of them perked their heads up, reacting to the sound of the door being slammed opened only to see you standing in the doorway, face flushed from the heat, holding onto your snacks in your hand. “Hey y/n.” The student president grinned, her pearly whites nearly blinded you. “Do you mind giving us some time? We have some personal matters to settle.” Not only does she look pretty, she has a pleasing attitude too? Just great. Pursing your lips, you nodded and went out the same way you came in, sliding the door closed behind you in a more polite manner this time.

“I still can’t believe that you are working on an assignment with her.” Nyla huffed, pushing her hair back with her fingers as she bent down next to Zayne again, staring at his notebook. Nyla had initially wanted to meet up with Zayne regarding the discussion for the upcoming school festival that will be held but eventually, she turned it into her personal chat session with Zayne. “Is she a freeloader most of the time?”

“No.” Zayne replied. “She does her part as I do for mine.” Zayne, at this point had already caught note on what Nyla is trying to do. Provoking a conversation out of him when he is late for the initial assignment arrangement with you bothers him. “I think you had already gotten all of the answers you needed for the school festival.”

“But, I would like to get to know you too.” Nyla sat herself onto the side of his desk, manicured fingers fanned herself in an attempt to cool herself down. “Say, how about we try to go out for a little bit hmm?”

The raven haired young man did not even spared her a glance, eyes focused on his handwritings. “Zayne, come on. Smarty pants with a cute face like you dating me would be the talk of the school for weeks to come.” The pitch of her voice heightens at the end of her sentence and Zayne sighed in frustration. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and exhaled.

“I am not interested in being your pawn.” He glanced at her and her smile faltered, alongside her confidence. “Nor do I find the necessity to feed into the delusions of yours.” The indifference shown on his body language gave her the conclusion she did not expected from him. Her pretentious ‘girl-next-door’ attitude no longer on display. The anger of a spoiled child who gets whatever they want seeped through and she raised her palm, ready to land it onto his cheek but he caught it right before it touches his cheek. “I wouldn’t do it to someone who believes in gender equality.”

Nyla withdrew her hand, strings of curse words falling out of her lips as to save herself from embarrassment and she left the classroom. The young man sat in the room, staring at the new page he had just flipped over on his notebook and he noticed the drawing of a stick man next to the page number. The stick man appeared to be holding onto the number 6 like a hockey stick and the 0 being reimagined as a puck. His lips pulled into a small smile, flashing back to the time when you tried to be sneaky when he was out of the classroom during one of your past assignment pairings, conducting this tomfoolery on his notebook and quickly returning everything back to its original position. But he saw it all, from the crack of the door when he was about to enter the empty classroom. He finds your childlike behaviour amusing after all.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

“We are done talking.” You stared up, the blinding sunlight immediately getting shielded by Zayne’s opaque outline. You squinted your eyes narrower only to find that Zayne has his hand stretched out to you, given you are in a seated position. “We should get started on our assignment.” You took his hand and he pulled you up, the sheer size of his palm wrapped around your whole hand easily.

“Here.” You reached your hand into the pocket of your uniform and pulled out a small box of chocolate cookies. “This is for you. It fell out when I was trying to grapple for my sandwich.”

Zayne took the box into his hands, contemplating on the way you got it. “Did the vending machine got stuck again?” Your nod made him smiled a little. “If it gets stuck again next time, you can just ask me to get it for you.”

His sudden suggestion nearly made you choked on the last bite of your egg and cheese sandwich. It is hard to believe he would come out all of the way here to find you, let alone making small talk and telling you that you can ask him to solve your troubles whenever you please? But your dumb brain only believe that he was only trying to be helpful and he is merely thanking you for bringing him a snack. “So what did you guys talk about?” You could not help but to ask as the both of you slowed down your steps to be in sync with one another.

“She wanted me to go out on a date with her.” You were lucky you had finished your sandwich, or else this sentence would have sent you into full on choking mode. You did expect Nyla to ask him out to a certain extent given his popularity, but you were caught off guard that he was even willing to share the details about what had went on behind those closed doors earlier. “I told her that there is not a need to waste her time.”

Hm? You stopped in your footsteps and turned to look at him. “What do you mean?” Your lips had blurted out the sentence before your mind is in control and you swallowed the instant regret of the question. Zayne too, stopped in his footsteps and he looked at you, his hazel green orbs stood out more like a lush forest under the blazing sun above your head. When he took a step towards you, your heart lurched, eyes scanning the surroundings for anyone present.

“I already have someone on my mind.” Zayne closed the distance between the both of you. Within arms length, Zayne reached his right hand outwards and held your cheek. An immediate gasp could be heard, the pace of your heartbeat quickened, so as your breath. You could hear your own heartbeat in your head. It does not take a genius for one to unravel who he likes. You stood in front of him, drinking in his gaze that had softened for one of the very few times, and this time he did not snap his head away immediately. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek, soothing the spreading redness that is a result of your realisation regarding his point.

Your eyes lit up and your jaw slacked, eyes frantically searching for a joke within his eyes but when you found no ill intention, you amounted to satisfy your curiosity. “Why…why me?”

His thumb slid down to your jawline, and stopped at your chin. Raising it up just enough for his eyes to be looking into yours and you gulped nervously when he closed the distance between the both of you. He smiled, lips tugged up slightly on both corners because all these while, he knew that the both of you have the same feelings for one another, but he just never really have the opportunity to be alone with you, till now. "You will find out soon enough." Leaning down, Zayne pressed his lips softly against yours to present his confession to you, stealing your first kiss away.

XAVIER

The countdown in your head never fails you. When the minute hand hits 12 on the clock, the bell rung, the teacher looked up from the book he was holding, glasses slid down his nose slightly as he realised his class period had came to an end. "Remember your homework kids. I will see you next week." He announced as the students all got up in sync, bowing and thanking the teacher for his teaching efforts.

As you landed your bum back onto your chair, you heard someone calling your name and your head turned towards the source of the sound. The blond bloke named Xavier sauntered over to you, his eyelids still half closed. "Hey, you going over for the fencing extracurricular later?"

"Yeah I am. Why?" You asked him nonchalantly, all while clearing your items off of the table and placing them into your bagpack. When you do not hear his response, your hands rested on your bag and you looked up at him, squinting your eyes. "Wait. You plan to skip it don't you?"

Xavier's eyes widened and his light eyebrows arched upwards. "What, no. I just..." His right hand reached up to rub the nape of his neck. "I just thought we could walk there together if you'd like."

Sighing in relief you smiled and nodded, pulling your bagpack over your back. You had forgotten to arrange the books you have to bring today hence the load of your bag became a deadweight and it nearly sent you rolling onto the ground. Xavier caught you on time before your face gets planted onto the tiled ground. "Careful. Here, let me help."

"Thanks." The blond young man easily took your bagpack off of your back, slinging it over the side of his shoulder that has his messenger bag hung onto. With the weight of fingerpads pressed against your arm, you flushed red when you realised that he had not released his hold on you. Catching your sight, he trailed it down to your arm and he released his grip, equally embarassed at how long the skinship lasted.

Truth is, you and Xavier are somewhat at the level of best friends. The both of you share the same classes and same taste for food, alongside same extra curricular activities. But recently, you started feeling more and more abashed around him. You would consciously want to look good in front of him; either it be tucking your hair behind your ears, chuckling gently instead of laughing like a troll, ironing your clothes to make it look pressed and neat. You are like becoming a whole different person just for him. But it is not necessarily for the bad.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Clank, Clink, Clank Clank. The sounds of the blades grinding against one another created screeches and clinking, which are not the right music for the ears. You sat a couple of meters away from the mat, eyeing Xavier clad in the metallic polyester jacket that is overlain with a thin, interwoven steel strands in between to provide him protection. Lamés is the right term for the protective gear on his torso. Gasps and mutters could be heard echoing in the huge hall, judgements and commentaries thrown around as the showdown between Xavier and his opponent has been relatively entertaining.

The whole nine minutes, both of the fencers has been extremely aggressive, parrying and lunging against one another whenever an opening is spotted. The race to land 15 touches on the opponent make it an extremely fast and deft sport. The both of them had equated to 14 touches each and this last touch would determine the winner. The referee stood in middle, arms raised midway to insinuate the start of the tie-breaker round. "Pret? Allez!"

The blades then ensued, waving in the air. "Halt." It was called out in two seconds and both of the opponents backed up, standing still in their spots. Your heartbeat thumped, the last you saw was the both of their blades touched both of their respective opponent's foil. It is hard to determine who is the winner. The referee was seen walking over to Xavier and he spoke. "Parrying then riposte, point-in-line is perfect and that forward extension of yours is worth the risk." He grabbed Xavier's arm and raised it, everyone in the hall cheered as Xavier removed his headgear and grinned, eyes landing onto you.

You smiled back, proud that he had manage to win the competition. You stood up when he walked off of the platform, wanting to congratulate him but Chiara beat you to it. "Xavier! You did so well!" The girl bounced over, her curls bounced to her footsteps' rhythm as well. "Oh my god, that was such a fight."

"Thanks." Xavier smiled and she grabbed him by his neck, throwing herself into his arms and you were stunned at her boldness. Xavier however, did not seem fazed as his arms raised up to pat her back. Chiara may just be an amiable individual but your mind abnegated that possibility and only opened its chamber doors to jealousy.

In a disconsolate, nervous manner, you turned and proceeded to walk out of the hall. Your heart thumped hard against your chest like booming speakers in an EDM concert. It also caused a lump to form in your throat. It hurts. Something about her just greeting and hugging him so casually made her wonder why did he never told you about his girlfriend before? He is already mysterious enough but at this point, it felt like a betrayal to you. But then again, he does not owe you that favour to tell you about his dating life if he does not wish to say anything.

Finding a cosy corner next to the herb garden that belonged to the Plant Society, you sat down at the side of the curb and amused yourself with the view of butterflies twirling around blooming flower petals. Amongst the weeds, Magnolia blossoms are most of the denizens found within the small patch of ground. Time passed by, perhaps around a couple of minutes and you heard hurried footsteps in the background but you were too engrossed with the butterfly landing onto a magnolia's carpels that you did not bother to turn around.

"Y/n." Xavier called out. "I had been searching everywhere for you." You turned your head slowly, stopping with only half of your face visible to him. "Did you noticed me winning just now?" "Yeah I did." You pushed yourself off of the curb, dusting the dirt off of your dark skirt and you faced him, gaze catching his chest rather than his cerulean orbs. "In fact, I saw Chiara went up to hug you." Your pout although not shown, it was obvious to Xavier. You are jealous.

He stepped forward and wrapped his lanky arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You were bewildered. In his arms, feeling his warmth spreading to your body and his scent swathed you, he smells like clean sheets and a bubble bath. Perhaps from his change of clothes. "I'm sorry." He spoke, breath batting against the nape of your neck. "I should have rejected her hug right then and there."

"It's okay Xavier, I didn't know you have a girlfriend." You were quick to address your hesitation, ready to take a step back from him but his hold around you tightened, not allowing you to leave his arms.

"She isn't. She isn't my girlfriend, y/n." He slowly pulled back, arms now moved to rest on your shoulder. For a moment, a gleam of wary was ready to surface but Xavier was quick to put out that emotion of his. "I don't think of her anything more than a friend. Unlike you."

Confusion clouded you like a misty apparition above your head. "What about me?" Your index finger pointed towards yourself. "What do you mean by 'unlike me'."

"I like you." His gaze unwavering, genuine intentions full on display. "I had liked you for a very long time y/n." Your jaw dropped to the ground almost instantly. You were not expecting this to happen at all but look at how fate has presented itself. Xavier smiled, his angelic smile akin to his divine features. He would have been mistaken to be an angel if you did not know that the halo around his head is the sun peeking out from the back of his head. “And I think I would very much like you to be my girlfriend instead of her.”

Your eyelids blinked rapidly, eyelashes just a few more blinks away to cool down the redness in your cheeks. As a reflex, your hands flew up to your mouth to mask your excitement, your lips probably pulled into a grin that stretches to both ears. “I…I…” Your stammering further betrayed your feelings and Xavier leaned down, supple hands held onto your wrist and he pulled your hands down, finally being able to see your shyful expression.

“Seeing you like this makes me very happy y/n.” He cupped your cheeks softly, tediously brushing the pads of his thumb across your cheek and he leaned in, planting a kiss onto your lips to officially make you his girlfriend.

Hope this fluff makes your day my lovelies! <3

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #fluffy #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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xspeter · 2 days

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꥟ part of the “dancing with our hands tied” collection, Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

꥟ IN WHICH… You discover that everyone at camp can tell.

꥟ W.C: 3k

Capture the Flag is a camp staple. It’s practically what makes the camp what it is! The battle strategy, the team work, the training.. it was perfect.

“Explain to your idiot boyfriend that we should get the Aphrodite cabin because he already has the advantage!”

“Just because we have more campers doesn’t mean we have the advantage! How many times do I need to say that?”

Clarisse and Luke have this argument nearly every week. Always fighting about who gets what cabin, which battle strategies were ethical and which weren’t, that whole ordeal.

You just wish they’d stop including you in it. Especially when you’re trying to clean a little boy's scraped knees!

You sigh, shooting the Demeter child a sorry look, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s got a huge smile on his face as he watches Luke and Clarisse bicker like siblings. “They’re silly!” He giggles.

You smile, placing a blue band-aid on his knee and helping him off the bed. “Yep. Sooo silly.”

He doesn’t spare you a second glance as he leaves, and you’re partially grateful and partially offended. You don’t linger on the thought though, instead focusing the rest of your attention on the two fuming teens.

“You already have half the cabins in camp! Just because our cabins bigger doesn’t mean you get to hog everyone!”

“We aren’t hogging everyone-”

You rub the bridge of your nose, annoyance building in your temples. Are they aware that this is still technically your place of work? You don’t hang out in the infirmary on the daily just for fun. As Apollo Head Counselor it was literally your job to be there, and they were just making it harder.

“Okay, guys, calm down-”

They don’t listen, instead just getting louder and louder. Some of the patients are starting to notice, and seeing as majority of them are younger kids, it makes them nervous. And nervous kids in medical settings? Never a good mix.

“Luke, you’re literally so stupid it shocks me that you’re even still alive.”

“Right, because I understand basic math and you don't, I'm the stupid one. Makes complete sense.”

You sigh, glancing at a little girl that has started fighting the medicine your brother was trying to give her. It’s already been a struggle to even get her to lay down, and they had disrupted any progress you guys had made.

“Can you guys stop yelling, please?” You strain, watching as another little boy begins to cry when Clarisse practically screams fuck you! at Luke.

Again, they ignore you, and you’re starting to wonder if they can even hear anything you're saying. You wouldn’t be surprised if not.

“You know what, Castellan? Why don’t you take your math, and shove it right up your-”

“Okay!” You intervene, grabbing them both by their wrists and dragging them out of the building. Honestly, you’re still not sure they’re processing anything you’re saying or doing, because the entire time you lead them outside they glare at each other like two children.

Once you’ve gotten a safe distance from the patients and any prying ears, you smack both of them upside the head. Clarisse yelps while Luke’s hand immediately goes to soothe the spot.

“Are you guys deaf or just plain selfish?” You ask, nostrils practically flaring. “I mean, did you not notice the patients in there or did you just not care? Because to me it seems like you just didn’t care!”

They both have the decency to look at least a little bit ashamed, and for some reason it almost makes you feel bad. You're not sure if it's because of the genuine guilt on both of their faces, or just your constant need to please. You’re betting on the latter.

Luke swallows, sharing a glance with Clarisse before both of their gazes fall to the floor. “We’re sorry.” Clarisse mumbles, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. To most, Clarisse was rude and rarely ever apologized, but that was just to the people she didn’t know.

If you really took the time to know her, you’d discover she was just as lost as the rest of you. And underneath that hard exterior, there was a sweet girl begging to be found. You just had to be willing to look for it.

Luke nods in agreement, “Really, really sorry.”

Your eyes dart between the two of them, arms crossing over your chest. Some part of you wants to continue raging on them, you feel like it’ll be a bit therapeutic. But, the more rational part of you knows how serious they take the game, and sometimes they just get too into it.

“It’s fine,” You mumble, sucking in a breath and dropping your arms to your sides again. “Just, explain to me again whatever it is you guys are mad about.”

They both go to speak at the same time, and you realize you should’ve been more specific with your wording. You put a hand up to stop them, and quickly say, “Without arguing.”

You don’t miss Clarisse’s eye roll, but you choose not to call her out on it. Luke glances at the dark haired girl, and she gestures for him to speak a bit more aggressively than you think was necessary.

He sighs, turning to you with a slight smirk. It was his signature one, the one that practically dropped trouble. “Basically, Clarisse wants the Aphrodite Cabin because they have more campers, but she already has more than half the cabins in camp. So, I think we should be able to keep the Aphrodite cabin.”

You nod, “Which cabins does Clarrise have?”

The Ares child answers, “Demeter, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and Ares- obviously.”

You assumed that meant the other cabins were on Luke’s team, and if that was true, that meant he had the majority of the bigger cabins. Which meant that Clarrise should get Aphrodite.

But, the puppy dog look on Luke’s face makes your heart skip a beat, and you wonder if maybe you could bend your morals for him. Just this once. It was just a game after all, right?

Unfortunately, Clarrise has this knowing look in her eyes, like she knows what you’re thinking. It makes you feel small, so you do your best to seem as nonchalant as possible and say, “Then Clarrise should get it. But, maybe give Luke Dionysus? Since there’s only two of them.”

A huge grin overtakes Clarisse’s face, and she sticks her tongue out at Luke. “Ha!” She shouts, pointing a finger in Luke’s face. “I knew your girlfriend would agree with me.”

Luke rolls his eyes, a slight blush overtaking his cheeks at the word girlfriend. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We’re still gonna beat you.”

Clarisse just shrugs him off, shooting you a wink as she walks away. Your friendship with Clarisse definitely was unexpected considering your clashing personalities, but you loved the girl like a sister.

Luke sighs dramatically, bottom lip jutting out a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You really couldn’t have just given them to me?” You snort, you know he’s not really angry with you, which is why you roll your eyes with a grin.

“Sadly, no.” You shrug, “Besides, we both know you’ll be able to win without them.” It was true, Luke’s quick thinking and obvious knack for battle strategy set him up for success. But, it was also pretty well known majority of the kids in the Aphrodite Cabin would rather spend their time braiding hair and gazing at themselves in puddles. So, you didn’t think it was that hard of a loss.

Luke chuckles, “Why? Because they’d rather stare at their reflection then actually play the game?”

You pretend to think, scratching your chin and gazing up at the sky. “Um, yeah, exactly my point.”

He snorts in response, allowing you to lead him back into the infirmity silently. You almost find it strange how he doesn’t even question you. Just… follows. “I didn’t think you’d be so stereotypical, Sweetheart.” He jokes.

You shrug, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Luke watches as you push the door open, immediately going to greet a waiting patient. She’s a little bit older, probably around Percy’s age, but you still talk to her gently and kindly. Still treat her like a little kid, but not in a condescending way.

Luke’s not sure how you manage it. It makes his heart flutter in his chest for reasons he can’t explain.

“Yeah.” He sighs, eyes trailing your every move. “You are.”

꥟

You didn’t particularly enjoy being stuck in the medical tent during capture the flag. Not because you wanted to actually play the game, no, but because you were completely alone.

Some of your siblings always offered to stay behind with you, but you never let them. They’d be miserable staying with you, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Thus, here you sat, alone.

It wasn’t all bad. You enjoyed the peace, a rare thing to get at Camp Half-Blood, and most of the campers were too hell-bent on winning to even bother stopping by. Which meant you got to enjoy the unusual serenity all by yourself.

The birds sing hymns that you don’t know the words to, and the leaves dance together like professional ballerinas. It’s all very beautiful, really.

At least it is until Percy Jackson rips through the trees, a wide smile on his face and his chest heaving. His eyes dart around the opening, before they finally land on you.

You're sat outside the tent, jean shorts surely stained an unflattering green color and shins covered in shards of grass.

“Oh! Good, you’re here.” Percy breathes, jogging over to you. You stand, doing your best to discreetly wipe at your butt.

“Yep. I’m..” You let out a sigh, “still here.”

Percy just sniffs, giggling a bit and bouncing on his toes. He looks like a little boy who’d just been told he could get his favorite candy from the store. “He got it.” He says.

You raise an eyebrow, “Who got what?”

“Luke got the flag.” He grins, “I’m supposed to wait here to make sure no Ares campers cross the threshold.”

You nod. The makeshift infirmary was placed directly on the invisible threshold, but you found it a little weird Luke would send Percy to lookout for incoming Ares campers here when majority of them would probably be somewhere deeper in the woods.

You knew that, and surely Luke knew that, which meant..

You give Percy a sympathetic look. It’s not his fault he gets… distracted so easily when playing the game, but you also understood how seriously Luke took this. It just sucked he resorted to lying to the kid instead of coming up with something else for him to do.

“I see,” You mumble, eyeing a small cut on Percy’s knee. “What if I patch that up while you wait?” You ask, gesturing to the cut with your chin.

Percy shakes his head, eyes never leaving the woods. “Can’t. Have to make sure no one crosses.”

You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. Percy could be so stubborn, that’s probably why he and Annabeth got along so well. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s so quiet you’ll be able to hear them if they do. Just come inside, alright?”

Finally, Percy tears his gaze away from the open area to you, and he’s got that familiar glint in his eye. Percy’s smart, he always had been. And you weren’t the best liar. “What do you know?” He asks suspiciously, pointing an accusing finger at you.

You throw your hands up in surrender, shaking your head. “All I know is that you’re bleeding and it’s my job to take care of that, okay? So let me do my job.”

You can see the inner battle in Percy. He wants to stay out and do what Luke told him, but he also knows the cut on his knee stings like hell. He sighs, lowering his hand and glancing cautiously to the clearing. “Alright… but, promise if we hear anything you’ll let me go back out?”

You smile, “I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied, Percy allows you to lead him inside and begin your work. The floor in the tent was still grass, which meant the chair he was sitting in was quite unstable on the ground.

He rocked on it, eyes going wide when it leaned just a bit too far back. You snort when he does, and he sheepishly rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

You begin your work with no words exchanged between you, instead humming a familiar tune.

“That’s the song you sing at the campfire, right? Here comes the sun?”

You nod, glancing up at him. Percy smirks, hands messing with his helmet. “Luke said that was his favorite song, and I could never really understand why because it’s just… it feels odd to me for someone like him to like that song. But I think I understand why now.”

You’d like to pretend that Percy’s statement doesn’t make you go pink in the face, but it does. Luke said that was his favorite song? Of course, it didn’t automatically mean it was his favorite song because of you, but… it was nice to imagine, right?

“He did?” You ask, clearing your throat and trying to be as causal as possible. “And why do you think you know why? It could just be because it’s a catchy song.”

Percy shakes his head, “Nah. Trust me, it’s definitely not just because it’s catchy. It’s cause-”

The deafening sound of footsteps interrupts the both of you, and you both share a look before Percy is darting out of the tent and outside. You follow closely behind, a fresh pack of band-aids still in your hands.

Luke is leading a chase, with a giant red flag in his hands and a wide grin on his face. Dozens of campers follow him. Percy runs to them, jumping up and down and screeching something you can’t make out. Everyone is laughing, grinning. Everyone except for Luke.

His eyes look over the scene, looking for something you’re not sure of. It’s not until they land on you that it clicks. He was looking for you.

Instantly, he shoves the flag over to some unsuspecting kid and rushes over to you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, being the person he looks for. You aren’t sure when that had happened, or what you had even done to deserve it- you just know you’ll thank The Gods everyday for allowing it.

Luke’s arms wrap around your waist, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. Instantly, your senses are overrun by everything Luke. You can feel him, smell him, practically taste him with how close he is. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.

Your arms wrap around his neck, dropping the pack of band-aids in the grass and standing on your toes. You grin into his neck, “I knew you’d win.”

Luke snorts, giving you one final squeeze and backing away, but his hands remain at your waist. It makes you feel faint. “It was nothing, really.” He says with a shrug.

You furrow your brows, unconvinced. You know Luke is more than proud of his accomplishment, so why was he acting so easy going right now?

“Is that so?” You ask, swaying on your feet. “So, you aren’t going to be bragging to Clarisse for the next week about how you beat her?”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, no, of course I am. But, I can’t say that in front of a pretty girl can I? Gotta play it smooth.” He squeezes your waist as he says it, and your cheeks instantly fluff. A pretty girl. He was calling you a pretty girl.

Compliments from Luke were hardly rare, but he never said them in front of so many prying eyes. And it’s then that you notice everyone staring at the two of you, most all have knowing smirks on their faces, but some look on in jealousy. You hate to admit that it almost makes you prideful.

You were the only one Luke ran too- the one he looked for. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

You look away from him, rolling your eyes and shoving at him playfully. “Shut up, you flirt.”

He pretends to look hurt, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and grasping at his chest. “Oh, how you wound me!”

You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but Clarisse's familiar screech of anger interrupts you. “Where is he?”

You raise your brows, watching as Luke winces. While he would be claiming bragging rights for the rest of the week, being around her right now definitely wasn’t the best idea.

You suck in a breath, whistling lowly. “I think you’d better run.”

Luke’s lips thin into a line, tilting his head. “Yeah. Probably.” But, he doesn’t move. Instead, he just stares down at you. You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Are you going to go?” You ask.

Luke grins slyly, “Yeah, just one more thing..”

It’s then that you feel the familiar warmth of Luke’s lips on your cheek, suspiciously close to your mouth. But, just as soon as he was there, he was gone. Running off and leaving you flustered and alone.

Your hands intertwine in front of you, a large cheesy grin on your face. You turn and begin walking back to the tent to clean up, but everyone’s eyes on you stops you. You glance down at your clothes, and then feel your face, checking for something- anything.

When you don’t find anything, you let out a nervous laugh. “What…?”

Everyone shares a look, one that you know all too well. You let out a groan, hands running through your hair, “It’s not like that!”

Percy shakes his head, “Yeah, okay. Of course it’s not.”

You just roll your eyes and storm into the tent. They were seeing things that just weren’t there! Luke was your best friend, and it was normal for best friends to be affectionate!

Hugs, compliments, cheek kisses… there was nothing else going on. Luke was just your friend being happy to see you.

That was all.

taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #fanfic #fluff #the alchemy #song fic #pining #kat thinks 🙋‍♀️#xspeter works #dancing with our hands tied

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