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fqithlq · 2 months

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✟ ⋆ ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆. casanova

carlos sainz x fem!reader | request

fc; aishwarya rai

a/n; i made a small mistake with the dates of the 2023 season, so for the sake of this fic, the races go— mexico, monaco, abu dhabi. and ignore the dates in the twitter posts, that’s totally my bad <3

124,927 likes

love4wags Alexandra Saint Mleux entering the paddock with presumed friend.

user1 alex slaying per usual 😌

user2 WHO IS THAT?

↳ user3 i have no idea but she’s so pretty

user4 does anyone have her instagram?

↳ user5 alex’s is @alexandrasaintmleux but i have no idea who the other girls’ is

↳ user6 apparently it’s @yourusername, she was tagged in a post from a long time ago with alex

user7 is she a wag??

↳ @user8 i dont think so, she’s not followed by any of the drivers

september 27, 2023

You sighed as you walked through the paddock, standing close to your best friend, Alexandra. It was hot out, but not hot enough that you were suffering. It was comfortable. You, however, felt the furthest thing from comfortable.

“Lex, are you sure this was a good idea?” You asked her, your voice just low enough to be a mutter. Alex couldn’t hide the twitch at the corner of her mouth, “I’m sure, Y/N. You worry a lot,” She said, “Besides, I needed to get your head out of those books one way or another.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but allowed Alex to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “But you know this isn’t exactly my scene,” You explained, “I can always just… watch this on TV.”

“I know, but we won’t be in the stands with the crowds. We’ll be in the Ferrari garage, m’kay?” Alex reassured you, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“And you can finally introduce me to that boyfriend of yours.” You teased her. Alex’s face turned a bright red, but you both arrived at the Ferrari garage before she could reply.

Alex walked in as if she had done it a million times because she had. But you looked around apprehensively. The two of you entered a room away from the crowd of mechanics. Inside, two men wore black fireproofs and a Ferrari race suit around their hips.

The paler of the two immediately went to Alex, placing a kiss on top of her head. “Hi, amor,” He said to her, “I’m glad you could make it.”

Alex smiled, “Me too,” She said before motioning toward you, “This is my best friend, Y/N.” Charles turned to you, “It’s good to meet you, finally. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You smiled at the Monegasque, “All good things, I hope?”

“Of course,” Charles said. Then, he looked to the other man in the room, “And that’s Carlos, my teammate.”

Carlos looked up from whatever he was looking at, his eyes widening slightly. His dark brown eyes didn’t stray from you– like he was in a trance. In his twenty-nine years of living, Carlos could honestly say that he had never seen a woman as beautiful as you before. Dark hair cascaded down your shoulders naturally, your spaghetti-strap sundress hugging your body perfectly.

Alex seemed to notice his entranced state, and she excused herself and Charles. “We have something to do before the race starts, I’ll meet you in the garage after, Y/N,” she said, sending you a wink as she spoke.

Charles looked at his girlfriend in confusion, “We do?” He questioned. Alex rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs, silently telling him to take the hint, “Right, right, we do!”

You sent her a confused look as the couple left the room, leaving just you and the mystery driver. He turned to you and chuckled, “I’m not sure what that was about…” He said, “Oh, sorry, I have horrible manners. Hola, I’m Carlos,” He reached out a hand to you, which you took and shook. Your hands lingered together longer than expected, feeling like a jolt of electricity went through you before you pulled away.

“Y/N,” You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to meet you. You’re Charles’ teammate, right?”

“That’s right,” Carlos replied, smiling warmly at you. The Spaniard seemed to make light conversation, but you could see it in his eyes, the way they trailed down your body– he had a flirty side. “You watch F1?” He asked, “Well, I’m assuming you do since you’re here.”

“I do, casually,” You replied, “This is my first time watching it in person though, thanks to Alex.”

Carlos’ eyes lingered on your neck for a moment before looking back up to your eyes, watching him with both caution and intrigue. Something about this man drew you to him but also made you wary. You knew men like him very well, almost too well. They were overly flirty but careful with their advances. Confident in who they were and had no fear of talking to women. But they always managed to fuck women over, either ghosting them or cheating on them.

“Yes, thank you, Alex,” He muttered, unintelligible to you. “A Ferrari fan, I hope?” He asked— his voice back to a low volume. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, “Of course. I wouldn’t be in the Ferrari garage if I wasn’t.”

Carlos smirked, “Right, that’s true,” He said, “A woman of good taste, I see.” You rolled your eyes playfully, but his deep, husky tone was beginning to affect you more than you cared to admit.

“You could say that, yes.” You replied with a small smile. Carlos’ eyes drifted down to your lips, painted with lipgloss. As the time ticked down to the race, a surge of boldness suddenly hit the man. “I know this is a bit early, but…” He took a deep breath, “Would you be up to going out to dinner with me?”

Your eyes widened slightly. A warmth filled your stomach as Carlos watched you gently. There was a split second where you considered saying yes, but memories flooded back to you. Memories of flirts like him fucking you over. Maybe it was wrong to generalize him based on your first meeting, but you did have to protect yourself.

“I-I wish I could,” You replied. There was a genuine part of you that did. But your mind outweighed your heart, “I’m just so busy getting my PHD, I barely have time to eat anymore.”

Carlos nodded slowly, feeling a significant punch to the gut. He understood where you were coming from, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel disappointed. He took a spare piece of paper and ripped the corner off it, using a pen to write out his number.

“If you happen to change your mind,” Carlos handed you the small slip of paper, “I’m only a call away.” You took the slip of paper. Before you could say anything, the door opened. It seemed to be one of the mechanics, “Carlos, vamos, we’re almost ready to go.”

Carlos gave you one last look and a nod before he walked out of the room with the mechanic. You were left standing there, breathless, once entranced by the Spaniard. Now that he was gone, all that was left was the sound of your beating heart.

liked by @carlossainz55, @alexandrasaintmleux, and 692 others

yourusername pics from mexico 🇲🇽

@alexandrasaintmleux and yes she did manage to find a place to study in mexico

↳ @yourusername i told you i would

↳ @alexandrasaintmleux also these are so old how’d you forget to post them

↳ @yourusername 🤷🏽‍♀️

@friend1 what book?

↳ @yourusername i think it was daisy jones and the six

@friend2 GORGEEE

@carlossainz55 is that 2 coffees

↳ @yourusername don’t judge me

↳ @charles_leclerc i am heavily judging

October 12, 2023

@alexandrasaintmleux added to her story !

story replies:

@carlossainz55 she’s going?????

↳ @alexandrasaintmleux yep, so this is your second chance, loverboy. impress her

↳ @carlossainz55 i plan to

132,928 likes

love4wags Alexandra Saint Mleux and friend, Y/N L/N in the paddock.

@user1 SHES BACK AND SLAYING AGAIN

@user2 carlos still follows her on instagram 👀

↳ @user3 i think there’s something going on with them, definitely

@user4 i ship carlos and y/n SO HARD

@user5 the way either of them always serve face no matter what

november 5, 2023

It hadn’t been that long since you last attended a Grand Prix, but it was long enough that your nerves returned. Luckily, Alex stayed by your side, being supportive as always. You both sat down at a table together, the buzz and noise of the crowd around you making you feel excited for the race to come.

Alex sipped on a glass of red wine, “I think you should talk to Carlos.” She said, “Go on that date with him. What do you have to lose?”

You scoffed, “My dignity if he turns out to be a Casanova.”

“Y/N, not every flirty guy is like that,” Alex explained, “Carlos is a sweetheart. He’s only had one relationship in the past year.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “How do you know that?” Alex then flushed, her cheeks turning pink, “I may have asked Charles about it,” She admitted, “I know you’re nervous about that stuff. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t about to hurt my best friend before I did any encouraging.”

You couldn’t help but give her a small smile, knowing she cared that much about you. You took a deep breath, considering your options. You were very drawn to Carlos– who wouldn’t be? He was more attractive than any guy you’d ever met and sweet.

“I think you’re right,” You said, standing up from your seat, “I’m gonna go talk to him.” Alex grinned and cheered you on as you walked off. With your heart pounding, you approached the Ferrari garage.

Looking around, you couldn’t spot Carlos anywhere. You began to worry that you had missed your chance. And before you could think of anything else, one of the mechanics approached you.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He questioned. You nodded, “If you’re looking for Carlos, he’s in his driver’s room.”

You grinned, “Thank you.” You quickly turned around and headed for the semi-familiar driver’s room. You took a deep breath, standing in front of it. You wondered if this was one big mistake. What if he didn’t want to go out with you anymore? What if the months since your rejection had ruined any chance you had?

Suddenly, before you could even knock, the door opened. There stood Carlos, looking as good as ever. He wore a simple black T-shirt and jeans, having a couple of hours before the race. He looked shocked to see you, but a small smile appeared.

“Hermosa,” He greeted you, “It’s good to see you.”

You smiled bashfully at the name. You knew very few words in Spanish, but ‘beautiful’ was one you did know. “It’s good to see you too…” You said, beginning to play with your fingers, “Uhm…”

Carlos noticed your nervousness, gently taking both of your hands in his. Like they did the first time, you felt a sudden jolt of electricity, warming your body. “What is it?” He asked you, eyes darting from your neck, to your lips, to your eyes.

You looked up at him, staring into his chocolatey brown eyes. “Would it be too late to accept that date?” As Carlos processed your words, a smile grew on his face, “Of course it isn’t, hermosa.”

@carlossainz55 added to his story !

replies:

@user1 WHO IS THAT?

@user2 THAT BETTER BE Y/N

@user3 why can’t that be me 🥲

@user4 carlos soft-launching was not on my 2023 predictions list

liked by @alexandrasaintmleux, @carlossainz55, and 619 others

yourusername finally said yes 💋

@carlossainz55 and i’m so happy you did ❤️

↳ @yourusername ❤️

@alexandrasaintmleux you’re welcomeee

↳ @charles_leclerc we did so well

@friend1 adorable

@friend2 CUTEEE

142,183 likes

love4wags Alexandra Saint Mleux and Y/N L/N entering the paddock.

@user1 FERRARI WAGS 🔛🔝

@user2 what gave them the right to be so pretty?

@user3 the real crime is Y/N’s instagram still being private

↳ @user4 at least carlos gives us content every once and a while

November 26, 2023

#formula 1 ୨୧ #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months

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Cod Men with a Pervy!Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Somnophilia, Underwear theft, stalking?, pillow humping, pillow theft, secret photography, masturbation

A/N: GOD, I got way too into this

Ghost

You were staring. He could feel it, your gaze boring a hole into his masked face, though he never betrayed anything other than that he was having a peaceful rest. He figured it was just because you were uncomfortable having to share a bed with him, the only bed in the entire safe house that the two of you were going to be stuck in for the next few days. It seemed like hours before your eyes finally drifted away from his face, dragging down the length of his body before settling on the crotch of his pants. When he peeked at you from under his lashes, he could see your bottom lip in between your teeth.

And then you were unbuckling his belt and it took everything he had not to jump. You used the new opening to wiggle your hand into his pants, your breathing heavy as you stroke him over his boxers, your thumb paying special attention to the base of his cock as he hardens under your touch. This only seems to excite you more and he can faintly make out the sight of your other hand pulling down your own pants so that you could touch yourself at the same time.

Strangely, he found that he didn’t mind at all. It made him excited even. And surely you wouldn’t mind if he returned the favor, once you were asleep and he was the one awake.

König

König was completely oblivious to your perversions, to the point that you mistake it as him knowing and just not caring, further enabling you and your filthy habits. You’re touchy with him? Good because he’s touched starved! Though he is a little confused on why your hand is so high up his thigh or why your hands dip a little low when he gives you a hug.

What he does start to wonder about is why all of his boxers seem to be going missing. The used ones in particular seem to be going missing a lot more frequently then his clean ones. His favorite pair (a simple half red and half white) were the most recent to disappear and this time he’s determined to get them back.

What he wasn’t expecting was to find them in your room, clutched to your chest as you whimper, playing with yourself. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest when he even saw you sniff the fabric. His face was bright red, and he wasn’t sure how you didn’t notice him just standing in your doorway like this. Or maybe you did, and you were just tired of hiding what you were doing.

Krueger

Perv meets Perv. The only difference is that Krueger knows that you’re a perv while you’re apparently oblivious to his own nature. How he lets you get close and run your fingers along his body when you think he’s not paying attention. Oh and how beautiful you look with your head thrown back in pleasure, your mouth forming his name as you ride your own fingers, Krueger watching through a scope from across the way, his breathing heavy as he palms himself through his pants.

Or how it’s your pillow that he’s rutting into when he watches you do mundane tasks, obsessed with the way you move when you think no one is looking. He can’t help but think about how you’d look with his cum dripping down your legs as you go about your household chores. Oh and don’t worry about the pillow, he’s already replaced it with one of his own.

One that smells exactly like him, and that he knows you’ll be pleasuring yourself to, your nose buried in the nice plush fabric. It’s his favorite pillow too, just so you know how much he cares about you, that he’s willing to give you all his best things just to make you happy, even if you don’t know it.

Keegan

You’re insane if you think you can hide anything from Keegan, especially when you’re so obvious. He knows all about the pictures you take of him when you think he isn’t looking, your little camera clutched close to your chest as you stare at him with your adorable eyes filled with adoration. Like you want to worship everything he is.

It’s quite an ego boost for him honestly. He’ll start wearing tighter shirts and pants, making sure that every picture you take really shows off his body. If he sees you in, say, the gym? The shirt even comes off, and he’s smirking when he catches sight of how you drool over him, the near inaudible clicks of your camera seemingly going a mile a minute.

If a picture ever slips out of your pocket around him, he’s all fake surprised as he picks it up and hands it back to you, trying to hide how amused he is at the fear on your face. He’ll coo about how he didn’t know you were a photographer and how nice the photo is, even if the contents are absolutely filthy. (He does make a note that you seem to have a camera in his room though and he resolves to find it later so he can give you only the best angles as he touches himself)

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dabisbratz · 1 year

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I GOT WHAT YOU NEED — yuta okkotsu x male reader

w.c: 2.1k

WARNING: jealousy, semi-public sex, praise, degradation, finger sucking, kissing, doggy-style, creampie, undepicted aftercare, possessiveness, exhibitionism

a/n: they are not highschoolers!! jjh is a college in this:)

There’s something about the high blush on the apples of his cheeks that makes people believe he’s vulnerable. Maybe it’s the curve of them, the way his naturally wide eyes blink. Maybe it’s his timid nature, the way he carries himself alongside his peers. Sure, he doesn’t exactly exude confidence, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t. In fact, Yuta is confident in his abilities, he understands his limits. He understands intentions.

So when he sees you, his pretty boyfriend speaking to a few guys, he sees red. He knows there’s probably nothing malicious brewing in their minds, but he recognizes those looks. The lingering gazes, eyes stuck on your lips as you smile and laugh, subconsciously leaning forward. His perfect boyfriend, too popular for his own good. You have a habit of breaking people down, seeing past their exteriors and embracing them from the inside out. Clearly, you’ve gotten to these delinquents.

He hates it.

Yuta likes to keep to himself. He keeps his hands to himself, stuck in his pockets or to his side, you won’t catch him latching onto anyone, even on a good day. So why does he want to touch you so badly? The men are handsome, he can admit that, with slim faces and piercing eyes. He’s not insecure, Yuta knows you love him, he knows you only want him. But the lines are blurring, everyone’s just too close, too shameless— had he not made it known you were taken, perhaps? That you belonged to someone already?

His mood is souring, eyes narrowed into slits as he bristles. It irks him. The closeness, the leaning in, the trailing eyes, the hands reaching for what’s his. Yuta’s never been this bold before, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets as he walks over, pushing past the small crowd until he gets to you.

If your face wasn’t bright then it certainly is now, twinkling in the sunlight as you grin at him, all pearly teeth and plump lips. He wants to kiss that dumb look right off your face, press his lips against yours until you’re breathless and ditzy. He wants to show you off, his boyfriend. No one else’s.

Then there’s an arm digging into your waist. It certainly isn’t his, clearly belonging to an individual much older than him. Much more bold. Heat bubbles in his veins, straight through the ones protruding in his forearms, cascading into his bloodstream. Some nerve. He’s sure you can hear his teeth grinding, with the way you wince at him as they dig into his gums. It’s clear you’re uncomfortable, just too kind to say anything.

“What?” His voice is mocking, he stares at Yuta through the bridge of his nose, but it’s more like a glance. As if he’s not worth the eye contact. “He’s busy.”

“C’mon,” It’s clear he’s talking to you, but his eyes are glued on the man trying to pull you in closer. Yuta’s vision swims, his strong hand clasped right over the stranger’s to squeeze until it hurts, searing hot pain in his wrist as he tears his arm away from your waist. He wishes there were more, more screams of pain, more evidence that it hurt, but all he gets is a clenched fist and an equally clenched jaw. “I want to teach you a new training technique.”

The walk around campus was tense. The air was thicker than blood, despite being outside. Yuta lugged you along, squeezing your hand when you trail too far behind. Truthfully, you didn’t expect him to hold your hand. Not in public, anyway, his warm palms clasped over your own was almost sweet. Whatever it was, it’s enough to make you smile, knees turning to jello as he dragged you toward an empty space between buildings.

“Yuta? Are you—”

“Whose are you?” You nearly trip over your feet, jaw going slack as Yuta pulls you into the alleyway, pressing your back against the cold building walls. He’s dead serious, eyes blazing as he holds you by your shoulders, breath panning over your face. You blink. Once, twice, again.

Whose are you?

“Yours, I’m… Only yours,” The sincerity lacing your voice nearly breaks his resolve, the furrow of his brow briefly dropping because you’re just that sweet. His sweet boy. “Always.”

“Did he touch you anywhere else?” He asks, already unbuttoning your shirt to inspect your bare body, warm hands tracing the skin until you’re squirming. Sly bastard. You shake your head, wary of your voice, by now it’s surely not trustworthy. Yuta tilts his head, a small smile spreading across his face as his thumbs brush your nipples, tutting when the silky skin hardens beneath the pads of his fingers. “Here? Seems sensitive… Did he bruise you?”

An animalistic sound leaves the back of his throat, surprising the both of you. Just the mere thought of someone touching you, hurting you, leaving a mark on you… He growls. Yuta’s hands are quick to pull your pants down to your ankles, watching the fabric fall until it’s bunched up and holding your legs together.

“Nobody else’s,” He repeats, pulling your cock free to fist at the head, marveling when precum immediately beads at the tip. Your gasp is just as sweet as you, hands shooting out from your sides to grip his wrist, knees buckling under the weight of his iron grip around your cock. “This cock too, right? So pretty, isn’t it? Whose is it?”

“Yours, yours,” Your head is swimming, nails digging into your boyfriend's wrist as he twists his fist along your shaft, steady and tantalizingly slow. You feel yourself clench the second he spits down on your cock, lubing it up to pump faster and faster, until you can’t tell your pants apart from the wet, rhythmic squelching of spit and precum. The head is so sensitive, twitching in Yuta’s grasp as he lets out a breathy chuckle, locking eyes with you. “S’all.. all yo—urs!”

He nods in approval, swatting your wrists away so he can thumb your slit, circling the precum at your tip with his thumb. He lets go, briefly tasting you on his tongue before hooking his thumb into your mouth, letting you have a taste too. You hum around it, eyes blinking rapidly when he presses it against your tongue, moving it deeper into your mouth until you’re almost gagging. Your complaint comes out gurgled, but it’s obvious you’ve let out a frustrated, “Yuta!”

“Need you to cum for me,” His Aegean eyes are full of warmth, despite the last remnants of dark circles resting beneath them. Your boyfriend has always been so cute, under a different circumstance you’d have kissed him silly. “Can you do that for me? Make this pretty cock cum while I feed this hole my cock? Huh?”

Maybe you relied on the cute part a bit too much.

“Uh-huh,” You nod, twirling yourself around on shaky legs. You’re not sure how long you have, soon it’d be time to get home before they start kicking students out of public areas that aren’t the library. Yuta’s hands ghost your waist, careful to catch you in case you fall. But you don’t, instead arching your back toward him until he’s digging his nails into the soft surface of your ass, hard enough to leave indents on the skin. You shiver. “I can— I can do that. For you.”

“Goood boy,” His hands are back on your dick, enveloping it with an overwhelming amount of warmth until you’re drooling onto your arm, hips rutting into his palms. Your hips move so you can fuck into it, cock throbbing so hard you start to wail. It’s too much, the hands relentlessly pumping your cock, the squelching in your ears, Yuta’s teeth nipping at your earlobe while his hardon presses against your ass. He sighs straight into your ear, open mouthed and breathy, feeling your cock jump in his hands. nearly out his hand. You can hear his smile in his voice, body rocking to and fro as he slides his clothed erection between your cheeks. “My good boy.”

His fingers end up finding your mouth again, pressing against your lips until you swallow them down, sputtering all over them as you moan and whine. He has to shut you up somehow, keep you from alerting anyone who may walk by. Keep those cute sounds you make to himself.

The sound of his zipper falls on deaf ears, had it not been for the weight against your rim you wouldn’t have noticed it. You wish you could see it, the dusted brown head of his cock sliding down the space between your asscheeks, wet with precum and— oh, did he just spit on your hole? — saliva. The trail dribbling off his cock must look obscene, and part of you wants to pull away and catch it in your mouth before it can go to waste.

“Ahh, look! Your sloppy hole is drooling on my dick,” He sounds just amazed as you do aroused, your ass fluttering around air as he slaps his cock against your tight rim. If he could just push, impale you on his dick already and bounce you on his cock. “But this isn’t really your hole, is it?”

“Uh-uh,” You sound like a broken record, but it’s all you can say as your mind starts to fog and your brain feels floaty. “S’yours, Yuta. Belongs t’you.”

Your rambling is cut short by the stretch of his cock, longer than it is thick, but enough to make you feel worn out and thoroughly stretched open nonetheless. Yuta goes back to shushing you, pushing himself deeper inside, inch by inch. He could cum now if he focuses too hard on it, on your gooey walls gripping him like a vice. On the spit pooling at his shaft. On your eager efforts to thrust for him, your ass jiggling as you wiggle on his dick.

But that’s not all, it’s the approaching footsteps. The gradually rising voices. The familiar ones from earlier, at that.

Fuck.

He just can’t help himself, pistoning his hips into yours until he hears that delicious clap of his balls against the back of your thighs. Sweat gathers at his brow, Yuta’s free hand bunching up the fabric of your unbuttoned shirt so he can hold it up and watch your hole take his cock like it was made for it. It’s hard to suppress his own groans, a pure erupting from his throat when the realization slowly enters your eyes, slow and delayed because you were too focused on getting fucked silly by his throbbing dick.

“Keep crying like that and the whole school will know all it takes for you to be happy is some dick.”

Your eyes roll back, slutty and shameless as he pulls you closer, getting his cock inside you as deep as he possibly can.

“Don’t want everyone to know how sweet my pussy feels around a cock, do we?” His grunts spark electricity straight down to your cock, which twitches and jumps against your tummy until your toes curl, warmth rallying in your stomach. “S’right, it’s mine. And it’s gonna cum for me.”

He can’t make out what you’re saying, not when his thrusts cut you off every time and his fingers are stroking your warm, wet tongue. Your thighs tremble, finally giving out, as you fall back on Yuta’s cock. He smiles, holding you close until his thrusts are choppy and rushed, voice raspy as you gag on his fingers. You shoot at the same time, his cum reaching deep inside you, thick, creamy ropes of cum leaking out your sensitive, used hole.

Maybe it was the excitement of it all, the thrill of nearly getting caught while you were getting pummeled within an inch of your life. Maybe it was Yuta’s words, driving you crazy and emptying your brain. You’re not sure, but it has you spraying hard against both your stomach and the wall, dollops of cum sticking to your shirt and trailing down your abdomen.

Everything is fuzzy. Your brain, your hearing, your sense of touch. You can barely register Yuta pulling out with a hiss, or the way he gently peppers kisses across your face until he reaches your lips, but you’re absentmindedly melting into the plush skin with no complaints. Beneath it all, though, you can see the way your boyfriends aegean eyes brighten in admiration, his pink lips moving in what you assume is the sentence:

“Wow…you’re too cute..”

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 8 months

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Love Languages Pt 3

Summary: Charles learns about the five types of love language and sets himself the challenge of being able to show his love all five ways. After all he loves his girlfriend without limit. So how hard can it be to make sure she feels loved in every way.

Written in order of what I see as not his love language to what is definitely his love language.

Pt 1 - Words of Affirmation

Pt 2 - Gifts

Pt 3 - Act of Service

Pt 4 - Quality Time

Pt 5 - Physical Touch

Acts of Service

Having such a caring and tentative girlfriend. Charles is more than aware that she pulls the weight and while acts of service isn’t necessarily her love language by choice. It seems to come naturally to her.

So to beat her at her own game is to do what she does and more.

While she is out shopping for some new summer clothes.

The perfect opportunity to wait for her to come back and for him to practically wait on her hand and foot. To relax her after a day of shopping, obviously a tedious task to any boyfriend who knows he’s better keeping his head.

The moment she’s through the door he’s there almost feeling like an excited puppy, eager to see who has came through the door.

“How was your shopping trip, Mon amour?” Charles asks then pausing to take the bags. “Let me get them-and your jacket.”

He almost trips over himself wanting to basically not allow her to do a single thing.

“Have you broke something?” She questions making Charles frown as he hangs up her jacket then rushing to pick her bags up.

“No, I just think after a day of shopping you deserve for me to help you through the door. How about I get you a drink and help you find somewhere to put everything then I can run you a bath?”

There’s a stunned awe from y/n that she is trying to shake but she can’t decide whether she should believe that he’s not broke something or if this is the most endearing thing he’s done after she’s just stepped through the door.

“Before I accept. You promise you haven’t broke anything or done something you’re trying to make sure won’t upset me?” Y/n asks needing to know nothing bad is coming from this if she accepts it and even relishes in it.

“I promise this is all just because I love you and I think you are always doing things for me but I do not return the favour like I should.”

“Oh.” Y/n frowns not exactly agreeing but she won’t stop him. Especially because telling Charles he is wrong is like talking to a wall. Pointless and gets you nowhere.

“Well don’t let me stop you.” Y/n smiles brightly then following him to put her bags in the living room before he rushes to get her a drink while she sits down. “Could I have some fresh orange juice?”

“Of course, amour.” Charles grins then only a minute later appearing with a glass of orange juice. “I want to see what you bought too. You always buy the best things and I never help you with your shopping. But I should.”

“Ok, is this Pierre getting in your head again? Charles I promise you. Pierre is no more my friend than yours. He just likes to tease you.”

“No. It’s not that. I just want to show you that I love you and I care about the things you care about and I want to do things for you.”

Y/n decides that she can’t find another reason that might be behind this other than he’s really telling the truth. But she ends up enjoying his help and he does actually help her to find the space and perfect spots for all her new purchases. And following up after that he does run her a bath before helping her into it and sitting on the other side on the floor.

Washing her hair and back for her while she sort of decides this could be a daily occurrence and she’d be very ok with it.

After the bath, he bundles her in a towel then once she’s dried off enough, she’s given some bright red Ferrari clothes that he helps her into before settling her in bed with snacks and a movie to watch.

“You can feel free to do this any time you like.” Y/n states while giving Charles some popcorn. One of the few healthier snacks he’ll allow himself to indulge in with her. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So so so much, Mon amour.”

———

Sorry it took so long to upload. Hoping to at least get this series finished a lot quicker. I think this part was just a little harder to write bc it’s really not my love language and I had to try and find a way to write it that I sort of found appeal in? Hope you guys like it!!!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x y/n #leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #charles

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333-luvsturns · 23 days

Text

the hating game: one

other chapters: 2

summary: matt and y/n have hated each other since they were kids. now, it’s their senior year and they can’t help but feel a specific tension between them — will they swallow their pride and come to terms with the new-found tension, or forever hold their peace?

contains: swearing, banter/arguing, mentions of alcohol/partying

pairing: grumpy!matt x sunshine!reader

a/n slightly boring first chapter but dw cus next chapter gets RIGHT into the drama! enjoy :)

matt’s pov;

Valentines day. You either love it, or hate it.

Personally, I fucking hate it.

The decorations everywhere, all that lovey-dovey couple shit, the roses, the secret admirers — I hate it all.

I walk through the crowded hallway — which, not to mention, is annoyingly littered in red paper heart cut outs. I make my way through the crowds of students, some walking at a normal pace, others deciding to stop in the middle of the hallway — or my personal favorite, the couples who make out against the lockers in the middle of passing time, which makes me psychically repulsed.

I finally make it to the cafeteria, to my dismay it has a huge banner hung above the first table in the room — ‘Get your chocolate roses here!’ and the table is filled with various chocolate roses, wrapped in plastic like a bouquet.

I pass that table and head towards the back, where my Nick, Chris and our friends all sit.

“Look who it is — Cupid himself!” Chris hollers when he spots me walking in, the whole table erupts in laughter.

I fake a dry laugh and sit down at my spot on the end, next to Nick. “Where’s your chocolate rose?” Nate asks jokingly from across me, “For your secret admirer.”

“I’ll go buy one and shove it up your ass,”

Nick turns to me with wide eyes, “Wow someones chipper.” He deadpans.

“Isn’t he always?” Chris snorts a laugh, Nate joining in beside him.

Before I can interject, a voice calls from down the table, two spots down from Nate.

“Cupid is here!”

I know that voice anywhere. I hate that voice.

I look up to see just who I knew it was, Y/N. With that smile that I swear never fades from her face, and that laugh that — though I’d never admit this out-loud — is so contagious, I hate it.

She’s like this constant ray of sunshine; sitting there, always shinning bright. It’s always annoyed me how happy and perfect she can be, she’s kind to everyone and gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, even when they don’t deserve it.

God, I hate her.

Hate’s a strong word, and I know it. But she knows it too, and she hates me just as much.

“I bet you love this corny shit, Y/N.” I say, gesturing to all the paper hearts hanging in the cafeteria.

“I do, actually.” She quirks, shrugging her shoulders.

It’s true, she’s always loved anything corny and cliché; when we were elementary school, she’d make all of us a Valentines day gift, which consisted of homemade cards and some sort of candy.

“You’re like a grumpy old man Matt, lighten up.” She adds, and before I can see what exactly she is doing, she is tossing me something from across the table.

All I see is her throwing something, so naturally, I extend my arm to catch it. When it lands in my hand, I look at her; shooting her a glare which she doesn’t reciprocate and instead shoots me her signature smile, then I look at my hand.

A chocolate rose. A stupid, overpriced, chocolate rose.

I look back up at her, an unimpressed look on my face, and a stupid, toothy-grin on hers.

“Enjoy, Cupid!” She laughs, before returning back to her conversation with our friend, Amaya, beside her.

Cupid.

An absolutely ridiculous nickname she coined when we were seven, and unfortunately, ten years later and it still stuck.

“Happy Valentines day!” She beamed at me, handing me a red card, hearts drawn all over, and a bag of my favorite candy.

I look inside the bag, seeing the candy and looking up at her with a grin. “Thank you, Y/n!”

Y/n nods with a smile plastered across her face, “You’re welcome, Cupid.” She giggled before skipping back to the school playground.

Of course, we were seven and the nickname made no sense, but I didn’t mind then. Now, I’m positive she calls me that just to annoy me.

“Matt,” Chris says, which makes me snap from my thoughts and look across the table to him. “Did you hear what I said?”

I just shake my head at him, before he goes on to talk about our upcoming Hockey game on Saturday, Nate and Nick both joining in on the conversation.

As we all talk, I can’t help but let my mind occasionally and unfortunately, drift to Y/n — I can’t help but wonder if she misses our friendship; who we were before we hated each other.

Of course, she can’t stand me, I can’t stand her, but things used to be so different.

Eventually, to stop from letting her occupy my thoughts, I settle on this; there’s no way she wonders the same. No way.

Right?

y/n pov

I make my way through the crowded hallway, attempting to make it to my English class (somewhat) on time.

Just as I reach reach the classroom, my hand literally on the door knob — the bell rings.

I quietly walk into the classroom, which is already almost entirely full, and take my seat. “Miss y/l/n, you’re late — again.”

Well shit. “I’m sorry, the hallways are crowded. It won’t happen again.” I say, glancing at my teacher who is glaring at me from her desk.

“Good, because the next time your late, you’ll get detention.” She retorts, before getting up and beginning class.

I sigh and take my seat, hanging my bag on the back of my chair and opening my book. That’s when I feel a pair of eyes on me, and when I turn to my side I’m met with the really cute guy who sits next to me.

He’s the star basketball player, tall with blond hair. When I look at him, he’s already looking at me, and when he notices, he smiles at me.

I smile back at him — awkwardly, at that, before looking down at my notebook.

Adrien Cole, is his name. One of the most popular guys at our school, and not to mention has quite the reputation when it comes to dating. But, as far as I can tell, he seems nice.

Thankfully, English goes by pretty quick, and even more thankfully, it’s my last class of the day.

As I walk out the school, my best friend Amaya is waiting for me at the bench outside the door — her usual spot.

When she notices me, she practically jumps to her feet and falls into step with me. “Guess what-!?” She asks, in a sing-song voice.

“I have no clue-”

“Josh is throwing a party tomorrow and we are going! She exclaims, quickly rambling over her words and throwing her arms up with excitement.

I widen my eyes at her. If there is one thing about Amaya, she is the life of every party. She loves a good party, especially our friend Josh’s — every floor of his house is always filled, the yard is littered with red plastic cups, kids doing keg-stands, notorious for causing cops to be called — that sort of thing.

I can’t say parties are my favorite thing, but I don’t mind them. Besides, to me, they are a rite of passage as teenagers.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask.

Amaya just shrugs, “Parents away for the weekend, I think.”

As we continue walking, making our way off school grounds and down the street, I take in the weather; it’s nearing Spring, and not quite warm but not entirely cold. It’s classic Boston weather.

Amaya and I walk side by side down the neighborhood street, chatting about our days till we hear hollering behind us. “Guys-! Wait up!”

I turn around and see Chris, Nick, Matt and Nate walking towards us, rather — jogging to us, aside from Matt, who couldn’t care less, his hands shoved in his pockets, trailing behind everyone.

When they finally catch up and fall into step with us, Amaya is quick to excitedly ask, “Are you guys coming to Josh’s party tomorrow?”

“Josh is throwing a party?” Nate practically shrieks with excitement, looking between us all for reaction.

Like Amaya, Nate also loves a good party. Maybe a little too much.

“I refuse to sit next to Nate on the car ride home!” Nick loudly states, “I will not be thrown up on again.”

We all laugh at this, remembering the last party we went to, specifically how Nate claimed ‘Matts driving made him throw up’ and then the pure chaos that ensued when Nates alcohol consumption got the best of him.

That’s when I look at Matt, still trailing behind all of us, staring at his phone, not remotely engaged in the conversation.

Matt and I are aquitances at the most. If anything, I tolerate him, and he tolerates me. I’m not entirely sure when exactly we decided we hated each other, but it started somewhere before our freshman year. Before that, we were friends — just like the rest of us.

“Why are you staring at me?”

I snap out of my thoughts, and look to Matt. Who is now looking up from his phone and studying me with questioning eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, I was not staring at you.”

Matt chuckles at that, “I wasn’t flattered.”

He takes a step forward, finally walking at the same pace the rest of us were and stepping beside me. I glare up at him, and notice the smug smirk he has on his face, then up to his eyes that are half-lidded and glancing down at me as we walk.

That’s when he decides to ruffle my hair up, bringing his hand to the top of my head and messing up the half-up half-down style I had done.

I side step away from him, shoving his arm away as he laughs, “Fuck off, Matt.”

Apparently Amaya, Chris, Nick and Nate are still on the topic of the party, “Matt, we need a chauffeur.” Chris says, turning around to face us and walking backwards.

Matt is still eyeing me with a smirk, while I fix my hair and glare at him. “Matt,” Chris says again, this time louder and gathering his attention.

Matt looks to Chris, “What?”

“Josh is throwing a party tomorrow. Can you drive?” Chris says, again.

Matt looks like he in a deep-thinking state, “Last time I checked I am a licsended driver, yes.” He says.

Chris laughs dryly, “Real funny, Matt.”

Matt just grins at Chris, like he is proud of his stupid joke. “Depends on who I need to drive.” Matt says.

“Me!” Amaya calls out, “And probably Y/n, right?” She asks, turning to me.

I sigh, “Unfortunately, yes.” Matt is quick to answer, “Then, no.”

Everyone around us groans at this, “You two need to just suck it up and tolerate each other, I mean really, it’s fucking annoying.” Nick says.

Matt and I both glare at each other — it’s a classic look between the two of us, one that is practically laced with our hate for each other.

This time, Amaya interjects, “Seriously, you guys need to be friends again, this is getting ridiculous.” She scolds, pointing at us like we’re two small children who are getting in trouble.

Which, sometimes it feels like that.

“Fine.” Matt huffs out, “I’ll drive and you’re all paying for my gas money.”

Everyone shares another collective groan of annoyance as we continue walking, “Matt — Josh’s is two blocks away!” Nick argues.

Matt argues back — though, I think Nick wins as they are quick to fall into another conversation. That’s when Amaya turns to me. “So, what are you wearing tomorrow night?” She asks.

“I have no idea.” I sigh, shrugging. “What about you?”

“I was thinking — maybe you’d let me borrow that red mini-skirt you have?” Amaya smiles, hoping I’ll agree.

“As long as you actually return it.”

She scoffs, clutching at her chest like she’s offended. “Y/n! What do you mean, I always return your clothes-!?” We both laugh at this before I agree — under the circumstance that she really does return it to me.

As we all continue walking along the tree-lined sidewalk, all conversing about various things on our walk back to our houses, I feel a pair of eyes on me; looking up, I notice it’s Matt’s.

Obviously, I shoot him a glare, and he looks away — not without rolling his eyes at me, of course.

Sometimes I wonder where we went wrong, and I really try to remember what made us hate each other. I’m always unsuccessful and end up blaming it on Matt’s sudden attitude and tough, grumpy guy-persona that began the second we hit high school.

Maybe it’s the teenage hormones, or just growing up and growing apart, but every now then I miss when we actually got along.

I never dwell on it long, but this time, I can’t help but wonder if he thinks the same.

a/n next chapter gets RIGHTTTT into the drama lol. also, please don’t hesitate to lmk if there is any spelling mistakes etc. thank you guys!

p.s likes & re-blogs are very much appreciated:)

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 2 months

Note

Write a fic about where you are attending kindergarten and then there's a rat fighting off foot ninjas

and then TMNT x reader

Ninjas In Kindergarten (Angst?/Crack?/Fluff?)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: In honor of the second rat we found in the toilet today, along with the signs of rats in the other parts of the kindergarten, daycare and staff room, I bring you this. I’ve changed it from Foot ninjas to a mouser, and brought the turtles in just for the fun of it. And oh yeah, they brought the rat hound in again. IT FOUND ANOTHER RAT WHILE WE WERE THERE. What an internship. It isn’t boring I tell ya.

Btw, me and the kids are now joking that it's Master Splinter’s unmutated family that wishes to recruit ninjas on their own. These little ninjas now do a double check before using the toilet.

Warning: Kids in danger, crying children, and spelling like always.

It was a surprisingly calm day for a Monday in a kindergarten. All handovers of the kids from their parents had gone smoothly, with the kids happily playing together on the mats, the pillow room or the play kitchen. Even the girl that tended to cry whenever her mother dropped her off was in a somewhat good mood, drawing with her two best friends at one of the tables.

You sat by the play kitchen area, plastic food all around you as the boys and girls around you handed you food, acting as if you were the only guest in an overstaffed restaurant. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of the adults cutting up fruit, while another one brought more pencils to the drawing table, all while the third one was changing diapers on the three youngest kids.

It was nice to finally have a calm day at your internship. The past few weeks had been somewhat chaotic. Not so chaotic that you couldn’t keep afloat, but enough to make you very tired whenever you finally got home. But damn it, these sweet kids made the whole ordeal worth it, only making you excited for the day you would have your own.

You and your boyfriend had started to talk about children. Nothing was set in stone yet, but the topic had been up several times. Well, if it was possible that was. With your boyfriend’s… less than human nature, none of you were sure that a child would even be possible. But nonetheless you dreamed, finding your heart jump whenever one of the kids accidentally called you mom.

“(Y/N)!”, one of the girls at the table called out, running to you with the drawing in her hands. Her 4 year old face, bright eyes and happy smile shined proudly as she held up her drawing for you. It was a blob of colors with no form of meaning, but nonetheless she was happy. “I made it for my mom!”

“Woooow!”, you smiled, leaning forward to show interest in the paper and the many doodles on it. “Did you really make that all by yourself?”

“Yes!”, she said with a little happy jump. “All by myself!”

“I think your mother is going to like it a lot”, you said, smiling as another kid handed you yet another piece of plastic food, adding it to the growing pile in your lap. “I think you should put it in your drawer. Then mommy will know where it is”.

“Okay!”, she smiled, running to her drawer with a skip in her steps.

With the paper in one hand, she opened her drawer, only to jump back with a scream, causing you and the other adult to jump, all turning your attention her way, all the kids doing the same in quiet shock. In her drawer was a mechanine, the size of a mouth, with one bright red lamp where its eyes should be, walking around on two feet. You jumped at the sight, knowing exactly what it was. You had seen such a thing several times with your boyfriend and his brothers, during your run ins with one certain scientist.

You quickly ran to the girl and pulled her back, just before the mouser jumped out of the drawer, snapping out at you. All the kids let out a scream, running for the farest corner in order to get away from the mouser.

In one swift move, you pressed the number that the turtles had given you onto the keyboard, sending an alarm signal to the ninjas, before giving the mouser a hard kick as it tried to get near you and the poor crying girl.

“Up on the tables!”, you yelled over your shoulder to the three other adults, quickly helping the girl up on the nearest table, before helping the next kid. “Keep the mouser away from the kids!”

And so you did, getting all the kids up on the tables, ignoring the questioning looks from the other pedagogues, as they wondered how you knew what that thing was.

You got the last kid up on the table, kicking the mouser back once more, before quickly jumping up on the table to the kids, before it could bite at your ankles. The kids on the table hug you tightly, crying as the mouser started to bite at the wooden legs of the table, trying to get it to fall.

Suddenly the door swung up, revealing your mutant turtle boyfriend in the front and his brothers right behind him. The moment he spotted the mouser at the feet of your table, he jumped into action, smashing it into pieces with his weapons, causing the room to fall quiet. Thankfully the kids weren't crying at the moment, but you could tell by the looks on their faces that the sight of four mutant ninja turtles would soon cause another round of crying.

“So”, you said, trying to defuse the building intensity in the room. “Kids, this is my boyfriend. You know, the one that was a little different with strong muscles? That is him”.

Your boyfriend waved at the kids with a somewhat awkward smile. When he and his brothers gave you that emergency number, he had never thought he would have to come and save you, three pedagogues and a bunch of kids from a rogue mouser.

To his surprise, one of the kids poked at him, staring at him with their big eyes and runny nose, not fearing his big frame as he looked at them.

“Are you green because you ate broccoli?”

“Yes”, your boyfriend answered with a smile, before knocking on his shell. “And I got this from drinking coconut milk”.

“Oh boy”, was the only thing you could mutter, before the questions came flying, all of the kids wanting to learn about your strange boyfriend and his brothers.

It didn’t take long before the kids started playing with your boyfriend and the other turtles. With Mikey they took turns to jump on the smashed mouser, laughing loudly at the sounds it made. Donnie drew with girls, taking a look at the drawing the girl from before had made. Raph played a throwing game, throwing the kids into a pile of pillows one by one, while Leo was making a tower of building blocks with the quiet kids, their eyes growing wider the taller the tower got.

It was safe to say that you would have to bring your boyfriend and his family to your internship a little more often, especially when the kids started screaming and asking you to bring them once again. There was nothing you could do. The kids had turned into big fans of the ninja turtles. And it was adorable.

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crow-n-tell · 1 year

Note

About the music men hermit crab rangbooms, what is that mostly irrelevant information about colors and other stuff? (The barnacles as top hats idea was so cool! I like your brain and how it works!)

And that because sunlight casts a blue light over everything in the water! Colors of a warmer variety tend to look black or nearly black. Now you’re probably thinking “okay so that means that our lil sea crabs actually don’t look all bright and crisp, they look dark and weird in their natural habitat?”

No.

Because no rules apply to fluorescent colors.

While yes some of the lighter areas of our lil guy are definitely going to appear more dark, like his legs and areas of his face; the bright oranges and pinks will have the same vibrance! That along with the purples looking a bit more blue make him just exactly the same hue of the acid mushrooms you’ll find their casts (group of crabs) around.

Meanwhile for his deeper sea counterpart, who lives in the part of the sea known as…. THE TWILIGHT ZONE.

An area where light doesn’t reach; his nearly red colored fluorescent shell actually benefits him because guess what? The further down you go into the water there isn’t any light to reflect, just leaving them red and meaning they are mostly invisible!

So our lil guys are basically as safe as can be from… most predators.

… heh.

Moon is a special kind of menace :)

#ask #time to nerd out #my art #the daycare attendant #kraken!moon #crab rangbooms #dca fnaf #tiding over

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artful-aries · 1 year

Text

Genshin Headcanons: When They Get Jealous (Zhongli, Kaveh)

Zhongli:

The man is a former archon, you think some mortals are going to make him jealous??

….you would be correct, but it’s not to the extent that one may initially assume

Zhongli is a very practical man, it’s rare that he gets jealous by default, and when he does he isn’t exactly possessive of you

The spark of his jealousy also isn’t conventional; sure, he doesn’t like it when anyone else flirts with or touches you, but he handles that calmly and rationally

What really sparks his jealousy is just…seeing you laughing and smiling with other humans; whether it’s friends, coworkers, or even strangers, something about seeing the exchanges breaks his heart a little

Zhongli sees the life you could be having, if he wasn’t selfish to keep you by his side knowing the inevitable tragedy of this story

You could fall in love, get married, have children, grow old with someone, and Zhongli feels like he’s robbing you of that experience

This is where the jealousy comes in; though he has the power of an archon, he can’t give you that life, not with him at least

His jealousy isn’t obvious, he just gets a little more quiet and thoughtful, something that could totally go unnoticed by you if you aren’t in tune with his mannerisms

It would take a lot for him to open up about this with you, not wanting to cast a shadow over the relationship

When he does finally open up, you console him and tell him that living your mortal life with him was far better than anything another human could give you

Zhongli isn’t fully convinced, but your words do make him feel better. He isn’t coercing you to choose him after all, this was your decision

For the aspects he lacked due to the nature of his being, he was determined to make up for it in other areas

Kaveh:

This sensitive soul, he gets SO jealous so easily

It doesn’t take much at all; perhaps a coworker laughs too hard at your jokes, a friend touches you a little too long for his liking, etc

It has Kaveh burning up inside, but never towards you

He gets a bit broody in his jealousy, closing himself off and not being his usual personable self

His jealousy begins manifesting into self doubt and insecurity; is he truly what you want? Isn’t there someone better that you could be with?

If you confront him about his brooding he will willingly admit what his problem is, and make a point to get you to understand that it’s not that he has a problem with your coworkers or friends

Sometimes his deep rooted insecurity gets the better of him, but he cares more about your feelings than his own

Kaveh just needs a lot of TLC from you after he gets jealous, so be sure to pamper him with plenty of affection

He’ll spring back to life after a little catering to his touch starved self, and he’s practically singing your praises

He does manage to maintain a bit of a serious note to let you know he appreciates you attending to his feelings, and for taking his concerns seriously though they weren’t always rational

If you tease him about how pouty he was when jealous, he will flush a bright red and insist he wasn’t pouty

Claims that he will make you jealous so that you can see how it feels, but you can tell by his lopsided grin he doesn’t mean a word that he says

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin imagine #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine #genshin headcanon #kaveh #kaveh x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader

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ridhearts · 2 years

Text

all for show {housewardens}

!! THIS IS A REPOST !! If you see a copy of this post floating around, that was INTENTIONAL! I was shadowbanned :(

@sakurarabbit18 requested: Hi, there~! So I have this really fun idea in my head. I would like a headcannon in which the fem! reader asks the housewardens to be her pretend boyfriend. But what happens when the boys fall in love for real? Super fluff, please! Thanks

sits on hands. I LOVE fake dating hehehe I left the reason for the fake dating kinda vague because I did NOT have a reason they’d agree to ready but I still hope it’s enjoyable! Also sorry if the least two are a bit short I was both getting tired and don’t know a lot about them yet so I’m still in need of some practice ig!

(also sorry for the second tag, I hope you don’t mind!)

I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave a request!

Riddle

If you watch closely, you can see Riddle go through the five stages of grief as soon as you ask him.

Denial: no way. The prefect who has stopped Overblot after Overblot is not reducing their problem solving skills to this. (They are.)

Anger: How could they?!?! Do they have no respect for the way dating is usually done?! For themselves?! (Apparently not.)

Bargaining: Well, surely it doesn’t have to be him. Ask Ace or Deuce! Just say he’s your boyfriend and don’t make him actually do anything. (It won’t work that way.)

Depression: Is….is he seriously going to do this? If anybody finds out, his reputation will be dragged through the mud! He can imagine the field day Ace and Deuce will have if you ever tell them…

Acceptance: Riddle’s made up his mind, and he is not happy about the decision he made.

You barely have time to cheer for your victory, because before Riddle does anything, he is setting down the ground rules. Most of them start ok: hand holding was a-ok, hugs should rarely be a surprise, only short cheek kisses allowed (he turned bright red and hastily agreed to whatever you said was acceptable)… He even insisted you had to maintain a certain grade point average if he were to help you, as if you were some kind of athlete on a scholarship. Eventually the two of you settle the details, and you skip happily out of the office with a new (fake) boyfriend ready for…whatever it is you have planned.

Riddle, at first, was very…stiff. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to be doing. After all, he had little to no experience and it’s not like he was particularly invested in the relationship as anything other than a good friend and a man of his word. You’re the one initiating any affection, and the best he can do is not appear wildly uncomfortable and embarrassed when you do.

It’s not that you make him uncomfortable. It’s just…if this were real, he’d definitely opt for affairs to be more private. Making such a literal show out of something that he’d like to keep private just feels…a bit weird.

Don’t worry, though! Eventually, he falls into the act, and he is damn good at pretending to be the perfect boyfriend. It’s definitely less ‘naturally suave and charming’ and more ‘this boy has definitely memorized a syllabus (or several) for an etiquette class before’ but hey! Whatever works, right? Just hope there isn’t a pivotal moment with Ace and Deuce around because…they are weirded out by their bestie pretending to date their housewarden, and they make it known.

“What are you two looking at?” Riddle asked sharply, fighting the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Ace and Deuce had been staring at him like he had grown a second head ever since you left to get your lunch, and he was beginning to fear the incoming outburst.

It was Ace who cracked first, hitting the table with one hand. “Dude, what are you doing? It’d be weird enough if you were dating them for real, but this is even weirder! It’s way weirder, right?”

Deuce nodded. “Definitely. I mean, it’s not exactly our business, but…”

“But we have to watch it from our lunch table! So I think we should get to speak our minds if it’s a daily occurrence.”

Riddle sighed, doing his best not to make a scene. “The prefect and I have everything under control, so-”

Ace’s face suddenly brightened as he got an idea. From experience, Riddle knew that was definitely not good. “Oooohh, I get it! You’re just trying to prove to them that you’d be a good boyfriend because you like them!”

Unable to hold himself back, Riddle stood from his seat and watched as the pair cowered before him. “Don’t you two know how many rules you’re breaking by delving into other people’s personal business? Another word out of you and I’ll have your heads!”

Riddle catches feelings somewhere in the middle of the act (or, if he already had them, they get worse), but he doesn’t even realize anything’s amiss until you tell him you’ll free him in a few days. Then he spends the night wondering why the thought made him feel so heavy and panicky.

He doesn’t strike me as the type to ask you out once the deal is over, though. Honestly, he’s probably still analyzing every last detail, every last emotion he had around you while also trying to figure out if you feel similarly. Did you ask him to be your fake boyfriend because you wanted him to make a move, or do you just really trust him? Were you flustered when he played his part exceptionally well because you liked him, or were you a better actor than he thought?

If YOU ask him out, he’ll stand there starstruck for a solid few seconds before clearing his throat and eventually agreeing. If you don’t, it’ll take him some time. But eventually he’ll ask for your company and begin gently prodding you under the guise of asking if he did a good job. No matter what you answer - telling him yes or teasing him for how strict he was about the whole thing - he’ll clear his throat before asking…did that make you wonder what it’d be like to date for real? He can promise that there will be less rules for this relationship…or, at the very least, more leeway.

Leona

Leona is the worst choice if you’re trying to actually accomplish something, but the best choice if this is a last-ditch attempt to see if he likes you likes you.

Very few things are worth putting in the effort, and the amount of stupid things on that already short list is 0. When you tell him your plan, the only reason Leona doesn’t condescendingly laugh in your face is because he’s pretending to be asleep (a point of pride, really, considering you wouldn’t continue your blathering if you didn’t think he could hear you.)

Whatever your reason for needing a fake boyfriend, you’re only going to convince him through bargaining. Keep in mind, putting up with you and pretending to enjoy it is a tall order. If you’re stuck skipping Crewel’s class two days a week and bringing Leona lunch so he can use you as a pillow, consider that getting off easy.

…you almost would consider yourself lucky, if Leona actually held up his end of the deal. He isn’t pretending to enjoy this at all. Hell, half the time he isn’t even with you. And when he is, he’s doing off or just as gruff as usual. You don’t have a fake boyfriend any more than you have a grumpy lion to babysit.

It’s weird, though, because now Leona is reluctant to leave your side. Before, you could push him off you and eventually have him swagger away to do something else. Now, your prodding is met with a snide grin and him asking you, “What, herbivore, isn’t this what you wanted? I seem to remember you begging and pleading me to-”

Hopefully you don’t need the fact that this is fake to be a secret because…he won’t listen. Whoops.

Honestly, you’re surprised he’s even fulfilling any part of the deal. But the moment you need someone on your defense team, it’s like he appears out of thin air, teeth bared and bad attitude sharpened for lethal destruction.

The second years that were bothering you scrambled to their feet, not willing to go toe-to-toe with Leona when it only took one swipe of his arm to knock them both to the ground. They stammered out useless apologies, meant more to be shields and less to be peacemakers, before running back to safety.

“Tch. Young enough to get into trouble and old enough to prey on the weak,” Leona muttered, rolling his shoulders back as if to shake the irritation off. You tried to blink away your surprise before he turned around, not willing to be the subject of his ire after he nonchalantly threw twice your weight to the ground. But of course he already knew. “What’re you looking so shocked for? I barely did anything.”

“I…didn’t realize you were there,” you said simply. Leona’s ears almost imperceptibly flattened and his tail stilled in its lazy movements against the ground.

Before you could ask him about it, he scoffed. “No wonder they thought you were an easy target, then.”

Neither of you can pinpoint exactly when your arrangement became enjoyable, per se. When you started it felt like your relationship was worse than it had been before, but now Leona seemed to love nuzzling into your shoulder and he could, more often than not, be found trailing after you (as long as you promised you weren’t going far or to do something exhausting). You didn’t remember when he decided it was alright if you ran your fingers through his hair or over his ears, either.

He’s not going to be the one to take the leap and make anything official. As far as he’s concerned, if you’re enjoying yourself you’ll stick around. and if you leave, well, it couldn’t be said he wasn’t your first choice if he never gave you a choice, right? If you’re interested in labels and stuff……just tell him that you no longer need a fake boyfriend but are looking for the real deal. If you ask sweetly enough, he might just offer to fill the spot in for you.

Azul

I’M GONNA BE REAL WITH YOU. MY BOY PROBABLY HAD FEELINGS BEFORE YOU EVEN CAME UP WITH THE IDEA.

When he hears your proposition, he’s torn between two perspectives: one, that you’re certainly toying with him and about to call him a fool for even accepting, or two, that this could be an excellent investment opportunity. He’s nervous, absolutely, but he’s never sensed that sort of hostility from you. (Ignoring the fact that he’s “lowkey” thought you made the sun shine for a while now). So he accepts your proposition, with a very clear IOU from you.

(In his giddiness, he couldn’t quite figure out what to take from you out of this deal, yet he was wise enough to think not wanting anything might make him look desperate. You, in your desperation from…whatever you needed him for, didn’t care much for specifics as long as you got a yes. Perhaps you were BOTH fools.)

Azul puts on quite a show as a fake boyfriend. He’s a master at sidling up beside you when you’re walking in the halls, falling into step with you like it was nothing. His conversation is light, easy, and you find your laughter to come naturally. Azul finds himself handing you small trinkets, charms to hang off your belongings or snacks from the Mostro Lounge (because he’s seen what you put together from Ramshackle, and he describes it to you as cute, his true distaste dripping off his words.)

But there are moments he gets…shy. Like if you laugh for a moment too long he starts to think you thought he was funny for real. Or when you toy nervously with the charm hanging off your phone, or insist he share the snacks he brought for you. When Azul works up the nerve to drape his coat over your shoulders, allowing you to nap atop your assignments while he finishes paperwork, he wants to reach out and touch you, admire the shape of your face, maybe push your hair away, just a bit…

But he doesn’t. For as well as he puts on a show, Azul has never initiated any of the affection. You have, sure. You grab his arm as you walk through the halls, you lean on him when he’s sitting close to you, you’ve even been so bold as to kiss his cheek a few times. Each time, Azul has heard his own word stutter, felt his breath catch and his cheeks warm. It was easy to pretend you were interested in him the way he was interested in you. But at the back of his mind, a voice reminded him that this was pretend. There was a time limit.

As the end of your little deal approaches, Azul gets more and more distant. He stiffens more when you touch him, and sometimes he interrupts your move to kiss his cheek and instead kisses your hand. The one thing he doesn’t give up, though, is walking with you whenever he can.

One night, when he steps onto your porch and prepares to bid you goodnight (he’s never been inside, you note, not since you’ve started this whole charade), you stop him from leaving with a gentle call of his name.

Instantly, he freezes, but he still responds in a level voice. “Yes?”

There is finality hanging in the air, heavier with each day your final date approaches. Rarely has there been a time where you felt just how important a moment was, yet here this moment was, catching you entirely unprepared.

“…what about my IOU?"

"What?” Azul jolted, forcing his glasses askew instead of pushing them up like he intended. “Oh, yes. Your end of the deal.”

Where you felt tension, Azul felt it even more, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a trembling, sniffling ball somewhere and figure out what was going on. He thought he could use this scheme as a practice run, proving to you just how capable he was and how good of a boyfriend he could be so you’d surely realize what you were missing and want him. Instead, it felt more like you were doing a victory lap, then three, then five, proving that you really had captured his heart long ago.

It’ll be up to you to offer up a real relationship. For as much as Azul tries to be the confident businessman with answers to everything, he’s still not quite to the point where he can just brazenly ask you out. Besides, asking you to date him to fulfill a deal just feels nasty and insincere. Nervous and self-conscious as he is, Azul is still greedy, and he wants your love to be genuine, should he ever earn it.

(It’ll be up to you to let him know he already has, but won’t you take the jump if you know he’s already yours?)

Kalim

Here’s the thing: Kalim missed the part where you said fake boyfriend.

As a friend, Kalim is naturally affectionate. He’s not just ‘lean on your shoulder when he’s tired’ affectionate, either. He’s a ‘lean on your shoulder all the time like it’s a wireless charger and he’s a phone at 3% battery’ affectionate. A ‘tackle you to the ground if he’s been away from you for more than an hour’ affectionate. A ‘here, let me shower you in gifts worth more than you’d see in your life otherwise’ affectionate.

So it makes sense that you’d ask him - surely, nothing would change, right? Maybe you’d hold hands a little more obviously, or make up ridiculous pet names for fun, but it couldn’t be too bad, right? Plus, Kalim didn’t leave a bad impression on anybody (mostly), so he’s an obvious choice for a good fake boyfriend.

However….the gifts start rolling in, and you’re not sure what to do.

If Kalim missed the part where you said fake, you were at fault for not following up and setting up clear rules and boundaries. Sometimes Kalim gets so excited about things, you get swept up in the whirlwind, too. But the small mountain of (real???? Almost definitely but you’re too scared to check) gold jewelry growing underneath the socks in your drawers is enough to send you into a small panic.

At first, you try to play it cool, as if this is normal and expected and not totally stressful. Aside from the gifts, things are fine! Kalim is a natural at slinging an arm around you and leaning into you like it’s nothing. He doesn’t just hug you anymore, he holds you tightly and nuzzles up to you, eager to prove you fit like complimentary puzzle pieces. And, while you aren’t familiar with the culture around dating and courting in the Scalding Sands, the garments he begins gifting you seem awfully familiar to the significant pieces he was talking about just days before you got yourself into this mess.

Whatever plot you needed a fake boyfriend for is quickly swept aside as you try to figure out what to do with your maybe-fake-maybe-accidentally-real boyfriend situation. You try to ask Jamil for help, but he only gives a flat look that screams ‘you got yourself into this mess’ and ducks away to go to basketball practice. Clearly an intervention is in order, but you feel like you’re the one that’s lost, and Kalim is a bullet train without working breaks.

“You do remember that the plan was for us to fake our relationship, right?”

There. You said it. That dreaded ‘what are we?’ that you never thought you’d actually have to say was out in the open, feeling just as heavy on your shoulders as it did in your chest. Part of you wondered if you sounded too accusatory, but you were at wit’s end trying to figure the way out of the woods you had gotten lost in.

Kalim’s smile dropped, his eyes widening as his hand flew instinctively to his chest in surprise, his arm a shield in case your words turned to daggers. For a brief second, a crestfallen expression flickered across his face, eyes unfocused and eyebrows furrowing. Just as quickly, though, he replaced it with a smile, one more hollow than before. His hand then moved to rub the back of his neck.

“I overdid it again, didn’t I?”

It’s one of the few times you’ll see Kalim embarrassed and thrown off-kilter. He laughs, but it’s hollow and uncomfortable and you immediately feel bad for being the reason he’s like this. But Kalim is an expert at rebounding, and he’s honest to boot. So he takes a deep breath and proclaims that ok, maybe he messed up the fake dating part, but if you were happy with the way things were going, why not continue where you left off…?

It’s a little strange, at first. Kalim has a little difficulty remembering that to you, you just started dating but to him, it’s been about a month. But his boundless energy swept you away in the first place, and it’ll sweep you away again if you let it. Just…maybe tell him to ease up on the gifts. You’re running out of space for everything he’s given you.

Vil

You’re going to need a very good explanation to even get him to consider this.

See, if you were anywhere but NRC, Vil would assume you were using him for fame or something. It’s not a reflection on you, it’s just that he has eyes on him all the time when he’s in public so naturally you would get some exposure. Honestly, for that reason alone he may reject your proposition, as it’s not worth any of the pain you’d go through just to have a little fun for whatever you need a fake boyfriend for.

But you are at NRC, so things are a little different. Not entirely, as he is still very busy at school and wouldn’t have time to keep the charade up for long. BUT. If you have a specific event and he deems it worthy of his attention, then…fine. He’ll be your date…if you pass his training.

(So maybe this is less 'fake dating’ and more 'you’ve made a fatal mistake asking Vil to be your date to the NRC version of the homecoming dance for revenge,’ but it gets the job done.)

No matter what you already know or have prepared, Vil is taking the reins on this project and he will NOT accept anything less than perfection. It may have been difficult to get him to agree to this, but once he’s part of the plan he is in it to win it. Do you already have an outfit? Too bad if he doesn’t like it, the two of you are an item, you will look the part and it will not look like that. Do you need to know how to dance? Well, lucky you, you’ve got yourself a personal trainer who is extremely adept at all types of dances. Vil doesn’t cut corners on anything, and to top it off he is an actor. You are going to look like the perfect couple whether you like it or not.

The first few weeks of preparations put more strain on your relationship than anything. Vil is renowned for being a vicious teacher, and you were already simply looking for an easy way out of your problem. The two of you are at each other’s throats, practically snarling at each other each time you pull each other in to practice a dance again.

Eventually it mellows down, of course, and the tense frustration simmering between you two is erased as you focus on a joint goal. Maybe you wouldn’t be taking an easy way out of your problem, but you’d have a fake boyfriend at the end of the day, which is really what you wanted. Besides, you’re starting to pick up on Vil’s sense of humor, the dry and sarcastic quips he makes while you guys are chatting through your last runthrough of the evening. If you’re trying to avoid or get back at a certain person through this plot, he’s immediately invested and on your side, meeting every frustrated sigh of yours with a comment.

Vil would be lying if he said he wasn’t sensing the changes in the atmosphere between the two of you. You’ve been spending more and more time together, so of course you’ve grown closer, but he’s finding you endlessly endearing. He rather likes how hard you’ve been working to meet his standards, and though petty drama is beneath him, he finds it rather amusing how far you’d go to purposely spite someone. Vil is rather glad he took you up on your ridiculous offer; you never fail to surpass his expectations, and he’s finding out that he rather enjoys that about you.

The day of your event rolls around, and a part of you is nervous. You realize you have no idea how you’re going to deal with the fallout - people will surely wonder why you dropped the Vil Schoenheit, how you landed him in the first place, and all of a sudden you’re certain you forgot everything you spent so much time learning. This isn’t the first time Vil’s dealt with a rookie that has a bad case of stage fright, though. However, this might be the first time he’s purposely making it worse.

“By the way,” Vil starts moments before he opens the door to lead you into the room where everybody else is already mingling. “You don’t mind if I give a few last-minute notes, do you?”

Immediately you tense, flinching aggressively as if trying to retreat into a shell. Vil, stoic as always, watches you sputter with an expertly-concealed smirk. His perfectly painted lips barely quirk up at the corners, but if you were less preoccupied, he knows you would’ve spotted it anyway.

“Of course you don’t,” he decides for you, ignoring your fragmented protests. “We are prepared to give them the most dazzling display they’ve seen yet, but it’s missing a certain authenticity. Why settle for mere costume jewelry when we can offer them something real.”

“Authenticity…” You murmur, your eyes searching his. Something almost mischievous sparks within them, and a few moments later everything finally clicks. “Wait, are you really asking me out?”

“Does it surprise you? I can’t imagine it’d be much different than what we’ve already been doing.”

“…There will probably be less dancing.”

“Hm. What a shame. I suppose we’ll have to make tonight count, then.” With that, Vil opened the doors, allowing all eyes to almost immediately fall on you. Your face grew warm and you took a side-step closer to Vil, hoping to gain a fraction of the confidence he radiated.

Idia

You are trying to kill him, aren’t you? He already said he was sorry he got the rare character you were excited for and you didn’t a thousand times, there’s no need to resort to murder!!

I don’t think Idia has it in him to do this irl. If you’re in a chat room and some people are being creeps, he can step in. But that’s kind of a one time thing.

However…he will agree to be your emergency contact.

In a car and you don’t feel safe? Talk to him the whole way and put him on speaker. Need someone to send you a barrage of texts so it looks like someone has been begging for your attention? He’s your man. After a short while, he’ll even send lazy pictures of half his face so you have something to show others like 'see? see?? I told you I have a boyfriend.’

Here’s the thing that Idia won’t tell you: He’ll pick up your calls at any time, as soon as he gets them. He’ll respond to you as quickly as he can just to hear back from you even faster. He’s not so good at letting people know how he feels or even knowing himself how he feels, and the thought of you knowing how much he values you leaves him feeling kind of itchy, but he’s happy to help you if you’re in need. Honestly, the thought soothes some of the complicated feelings he’s opened himself into. Maybe the cute selfies and messages you send are part of an act, but you genuinely trust him to be your fake boyfriend. It’s an honor all its own, if you think about it.

Except he CAN’T think about it because the more he realizes what sort of shoujo manga hijinks he agreed to and he crawls under his covers to process it.

Idia checked his phone while the next level loads, shoulders slumping once he saw it was all game notifications and nothing from you. He thought about sending you another message, especially since some of your last messages mentioned someone giving you a bad vibe and wanting to leave, but what if he just ruined your socialization by asking about you?

Maybe you didn’t need a fake boyfriend anymore because you had found a real one.

Idia turned his volume up again in case you messaged, and started his game.

Sometimes Idia talks himself into a bad mood, one that ruins his vibe for forever both because he feels worthless and then feels more worthless for thinking about you in such a bad light. You can even notice it over text in the slightly longer response time and the suddenly accurate punctuation.

He won’t do much about his feelings, even as they continue to grow. He’s already fighting for his life out here, trying to figure out the brand new environment he threw himself into. You’ll have to take the next step - but don’t worry about him rejecting you. You seem to have a knack for roping him into your crazy ideas already.

Malleus

His first thought is oh, dear. I’ve made a grave mistake somewhere.

Similar to Azul, he’ll start to think that perhaps this is a trial period, or a courting ritual from where you’re from. Those are the only terms he’ll understand it under. Everything else confuses him - why act exactly like you’re dating and not date for real and have the benefits forever?

Still, once he wraps his head around it, he goes all in. If you want to convince people he’s your boyfriend, he is going to convince people. Malleus before had a habit of toeing the line, occasionally acting a bit intimately that might suggest he had feelings for you. Now he’s over-the-top romantic, taking advice from every piece of courting and dating rituals and advice he’s ever perceived. (Some of it goes better than others, and yes, Lilia’s advice is 50/50)

The bad news is, since he is still Malleus, people are hardly around to see the show you’re putting on. The good news is this plan has worked wonders if you were trying to get some creep off your back.

“So, where else do you need to go today?”

The other people on the sidewalk gave you a much wider berth than normal, not wanting to approach the formidable Malleus Draconia. It would have been funny, how they avoided the man who was nothing but sweet on you, if it wasn’t sort of sad. You could see why Malleus felt so isolated all the time - you were feeling crestfallen after a few hours a day of this obvious avoidance.

“Actually, I only need to head home. Grim’s waiting on me to make dinner,” You answered, shrugging your bag higher on your shoulder. “Thanks for walking with-”

“I’ll be happy to accompany you,” He interrupted before you could urge him to part ways with you. Furrowing your eyebrows, you nodded.

“Okay…if you insist.”

If you let him know it’s about time to start winding down the act, Malleus…won’t listen. He’ll never overstep to make you uncomfortable, but having such singular attention from you for so long was kind of a dream come true. Plus, Malleus has a sinking feeling that your withdrawal won’t stop once the two of you return to being friends as you were.

If you don’t make a move, he will. The two of you will be walking at night like you used to, and it’ll be one of the most romantic things you could think of in such short notice. Please, please accept him - he isn’t sure he can lose you now, not when he’s already in this deep.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines

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heartshapedconchas · 1 year

Text

everlong

chapter 1: patrol | ellie williams |

summary — You knew Ellie Williams. You weren't close with her by any means, but you knew her. You knew that she had been dating Dina for 5 months when you arrived, and you also knew that you were fairly interested in her. One night after a day of patrol together, the two of you talk during a get-together. And not just about the normal trivial things you'd say every now and then to break the almost comfortable silence during patrols. You actually talked.

pairing — ellie williams x reader

warnings — femme-based reader, slight violence? reader is a lesbian, dina & ellie are dating (she doesn’t cheat dw)

word count — 1.8k

author’s note — Hello Hello, I have not written since about middle school so i’m so sorry if this is just horribly written (　ﾟдﾟ) Also I apologize if there are any mistakes/inconsistencies or anything like that. I was raised by an immigrant who’s English wasn’t perfect when he had/taught me so mine isn’t perfect either! So much for Eng being my first language LOL.

7:15 AM. The bright red numbers from your shitty alarm clock burned into your eyes as you decided to actually open them and make an attempt to wake up and start your day. You didn’t just wake up now though, you had been awake for the past hour or so; listening to the sound of Jackson slowly coming to life. Your body is still on its usual sleep-wake cycle from traveling on your own. Before you came across a few people and were welcomed into this community, your sleep wasn’t exactly a priority. Sleep was a luxury, you only got a few hours of sleep so you naturally woke up early even though you didn’t exactly need to. Which of course, was miserable but unfixable so far.

Deciding to actually function, you sit up with a sigh; and internally groan at the feeling of the frigid air compared to the warmth of your bed sheets. “Fuck that,” you mumble to yourself, and wrap one of the blankets around you and stand up. After dressing yourself in the appropriate kind of clothing for the mid-December weather, which was beautiful but fucking miserable, you head out to start your day.

Ellie’s coming with you on your patrol today, which wouldn’t be the first time. You two weren’t usually paired up, but you remember her from a few of your first non-group patrols. Actual conversation never really occurred between the two of you, you said hello when meeting up and all that shit; and talked about how to take out the infected that were in the area. But it was never more than that. Not a big deal though, it didn’t make a huge difference to you. Although, a part of you longed for more. Just a little bit more, even if she just asked you how you were feeling that day or if you had any plans. One time during one of your very first patrols you attempted to shoot and ride at the same time; which evidently failed as you got knocked off by a runner. Ellie took care of the infected that had knocked you off, but she had pulled you to safety before doing that. She was grabbing you by the arm, yanking you behind her. After that, for some reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about her grabbing you. Her touching you. You replayed that moment in your head over and over again, even after arriving back in Jackson that day.

But Ellie had been with Dina for 5 months at that point. You had just gotten there, you didn’t already want to tarnish your image with the idea that you’re going after a taken woman. That would fucking suck. That and the fact that it's just plain wrong. So you just took those feelings and shoved them deep down inside you so they would never see the light of day.

“Hey {name}, you signing in? I grabbed Lady from her stable for you already! ” someone else getting ready for a patrol said as they saw you. “Oh, thank you! And uh yeah, just waiting for Ellie. Have you seen her, she's usually the first one here?”

Almost as if on cue, Ellie walked in. Her face was slightly red, and it looked as if she was frowning; her eyebrows furrowed as she mumbled something to herself that you couldn't hear. “Maybe she’s not a morning person,” you thought to yourself, “maybe we have that in common. God, I hope it doesn’t affect her attitude on this patrol, I really don’t feel like dealing with that shit right now.”

You gave her a small wave and a slight smile, and she gave you a nod of acknowledgment as she grabbed Shimmer from her stable.

“You ready? This shouldn’t take too long, this area never really has any infected.” She handed you a map of the route since you’ve never been on it before, and she didn’t want to deal with you getting lost along the way.

As you saddled your horse you took a quick glance over the route, “Hm, yep. Seems easy enough!”

She gave you a small smile, finally. “Alright, let's go then. I just wanna get it done quickly.” And with that, you mounted your horses and headed for the gate to leave.

The ride was quiet for the most part, aside from a few comments about the weather or a random animal one of you saw. It was really pretty too, you were kinda upset you had never come along on this route before. No infected to take out and good scenery? It was perfect, completely serene.

There were, however, buildings you had to clear of course. And this one seemed rather large and broken down, it almost looked like some sort of gas station or store like that. All of the entrances were blocked by something so you had to figure out a different point of entry.

“Hey,” Ellie motioned towards an open window with her head, “over here. I’ll boost you up and you can help me get in.”

You silently nodded and jumped off Lady, patting her on the side once before jogging over to said window.

She bends down, links her hands together, and nods up towards the opening, “Okay, up you go.”

Stepping onto her hands, she pushes upwards and you’re able to grab onto the very edge of the window. “Fuck, I think I need a little bit more help—it’s a little too high for me to reach.”

Another touch. This time she grabbed onto your leg to help boost you up more. It wasn’t your lower leg though, it was like—The directly below your ass leg area.

Your breath hitched and you were finally up through the window; standing on what you assumed was some sort of storage unit. After helping Ellie up, you turn on your flashlight and start looking around. There wasn’t much really, you found a few extra bullets and some supplies. Plus an old corpse, which wasn’t too pleasant of course.

“So..” Ellie suddenly interrupted the comfortable silence that you two usually experienced during your patrols, “you coming to that party at the church tonight?” Oh. Oh. That's more than the usual small talk.

“Ah, yeah actually. I planned on at least stopping by if I wasn’t too tired. Why? Did you get ditched by Dina?” You said with a slight laugh.

Ellie bit her lip, almost as if that was partially true, “Mn no, was just wondering.” she shrugged and turned to open another door to see if the room was clear. You raised an eyebrow at her before turning to do the same and see if your room was clear.

It was definitely not clear. As soon as you creaked open the door, a clicker rushed out at you. You stumbled back, grabbing your gun from your leg holster and pointing it at its fungi-overtaken head. But you couldn’t aim steady, so much was happening so fast and you were shaken from being jumped by a fucking clicker.

“{reader}, watch out!” Ellie screamed as she ran towards you and the clicker, who was on top of you now. You were barely able to keep it away from your face, its mouth biting down on air as it failed to reach your skin; loud screeches disorienting you even more.

“Fucking— get it off!” Jesus christ this thing was fucking strong. You weren't weak but you’d have a hard time if you were rushed suddenly like this. Ellie grabbed the clicker off of you and shot it once in the head, and it fell to the floor beside you limply.

“{reader} , {reader} are you okay? You’re not bit are you?!” she said panicked, her voice urgent and unstable; and she kneeled down in front of you so you were face to face. “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” but you winced. Your face felt..wet? Reaching up to your left cheek you touched where it felt damp, and when your hand drew back you found your fingertips smeared with blood. Were you bit? Maybe you don’t feel it when it happens, and that's why there’s always that dramatic moment in the cheesy old zombie apocalypse movies where the side character realizes they’ve been bit later on.

“Shit, it’s just a scratch but you’re bleeding pretty heavy,” she paused for a second, “I have stuff in my bag for that, you’ll be fine.” She shrugged her backpack off and rummaged around in it before finding a package of first aid supplies. She grabbed cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide before she began dousing them in the liquid.

“Alright this is gonna sting a bit.” she leaned in close and started cleaning your cheek. You know how when you would fall and hurt your knee when you were a kid? And your parents would pull out the rubbing alcohol and tell you it wasn’t gonna hurt at all. But it actually ended up burning really badly? That’s what it felt like, the stinging making you flinch and almost whine.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” she looked at you with sympathy and continued cleaning, apologizing sweetly every time you would wince or groan. A minute later she was done, and she threw the used cotton balls to the side. “Alright, you’re all done. Feel better?” She got up after pausing to stare at you for merely a second and grabbed her backpack from the floor. “You okay to continue? I wanna get through this as quickly as possible now, I don't want that happening again.” She laughed a little, before reaching out her hand to help you get up.

The two of you finished the patrol, not finding any other infected aside from a few runners that you took down easily. It started snowing at some point while you were scavenging for supplies in some small building and hurried out of there before it would get any worse. She didn’t ask any more questions as she did before on your way back through the route, she was quiet and almost nervous. She’d glance at you every few minutes or so, and just as quickly as she would look she would turn away from you.

The entire trip back home, you dreaded that party. Pulling your horses into the stable, Ellie hesitated before finally speaking for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

“So uh… you said you are going to the party tonight, right?” She looked almost hopeful as if she’d be disappointed if you said no.

“Oh, yeah!” You smiled, a bit too awkward for your own liking, “Uh.. see you there?”

She smiled and nodded, before handing Shimmer off to the stable handler. As you watched her walk away, you felt that same anxiety bubble up in your stomach again. The same anxiety you felt when you first saw the girl before you were informed that she was in a committed relationship. It almost made you feel sick to your stomach, it was that kind of excited anxiety that made you so giddy you could jump up and down and scream. But you couldn't. "Man I'm delusional" you mumbled to yourself as you followed Ellie's actions and handed Lady off, "She's just being friendly. No need to get excited."

No need to get excited.

Right?

#the last of us #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #dina nolastname #wlw #wlnm #sapphic #tlou x reader #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers?

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azwhore · 6 months

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this is pt. 2 to my last post, hope you like ;)

words: 2.6k

warnings: smut, fluff (this is pretty fluffy), oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, public sex, unprotected sex, edging i guess?, am i missing anything?

<><><>

It’s been about 10 minutes of you and Alex resting peacefully on each other. He provided you with the most delicious, but simple, dinner. It was really needed after your day from work.

“You know…” he interrupts the silence. “The surprise isn’t over just yet, love.” Alex holds this cocky tone in his voice. What is your boyfriend planning?

“Oh? Well how ‘bout you tell me, Turner?” You ask, ever so curious. He moves his head off yours as little pieces of hair fall over his forehead. Picking up your head as well, you look at him, puzzled. He places a passionate kiss on your lips, wanting more, but stopping.

“That would just ruin the surprise, now would it?” Way to beat around the bush. Alex gets up, leaving you stranded on the blanket. You’re confused, wondering why he left his spot next to you.

He looks back and stops in his tracks, saying in a sweet tone, “You coming, love?”

You stand and walk over to him, asking, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. You should grab a sweater.” He says coyly. You glare at him, not entirely liking the secrecy. Alex swallows his saliva, nerved by you. He knows better than to rile you up.

“Uh, don’t worry, love. It’s nothing bad. Promise.” Right.

You nod, walking to your closet to grab a cream colored cardigan. It was thick, but not enough as to make you hot.

You stride back to Alex at the exit of your apartment. He takes in your beauty once again, not looking away.

“Wow…”

“What?”

“I just can’t believe you’re mine.” This man sure knows what he’s doing. You’re flustered by the comment. You still never get used to his compliments; it makes you feel good each time.

“Let’s go.” You say, a bright red blush spreading across your cheeks. He smirks at you. Alex knows exactly what he does to you.

***

You both get downstairs, arriving at his parked car. Alex opens your door for you, waiting for you to get inside.

“Ladies first.” You roll your eyes slightly at his comment, smiling. He closes your door, walking over to the driver’s side.

“Seat-belted?” You nod. It’s only the bare minimum to ensure your safety. He buckles himself in and starts the car. Alex then puts his arm on your seat to look back as he put the car in reverse. You stared at him, drinking in his features: chiseled jaw, brown, light curls, a slight vein popping out in his neck. Man was he a god.

He noticed you staring. You look away as he lets out a smirk.

“Enjoying the view, love?” he says in his usual cocky tone.

“Shut up.” you sound irritated. Alex lets out a chuckle at your words. He loved teasing you.

***

After about twenty minutes, you arrive at a park. It looked to be a little secluded, yet there were still quite a few people. It wasn’t anything outrageous, but it was still beautiful. Trees and bushes scattered everywhere, as well as street lamps and benches. You’ve always enjoyed nature; Alex knew that. So this seemed to be the perfect place to take you on a Friday night.

“Surprise!” he silently shouts in a sing-songy voice.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you say, true to your words. Just from the entrance the park looked amazing.

Alex gets out of the car and jogs over to your side. He opens the door, slightly bowing as you step out.

“Milady,” he worships in his thick accent.

“Why thank you kind sir.” you respond, giggling. Alex loved hearing your laugh. It warmed his heart each time. You were like the first day of spring.

You hook your arm through his as you stroll through the park. Alex mentions going along one of the paths to which you agreed. Both of you point out different things that peak your interests. At one point, he mentioned a squirrel stealing a piece of bread from a bird. After a little while, the two of you have seen just about everything.

Alex suddenly brings you against a thick tree facing away from the path. He immediately starts kissing and nipping at your neck, trying to get more access

“Alex…” you say out of breath by your boyfriend’s actions. “Wha-What are you doing? We’re in public!” you whisper-shout. You don’t need anyone around to hear what the two of you are up to.

“You didn’t think that was the only surprise, did you?” he says between kisses. You try to suppress your moans, biting on your lip as he continues to ravish your neck. You bite so hard you could practically taste the metallic taste of blood.

“Shh… be good and stay quiet, yeah?” Alex knows exactly what he’s doing. “Are you okay, love?” he asks.

“Mhm..” you try to form a word, but to no avail.

His hands are on your lower back, slowly caressing it. Alex then moves down slowly to your chest, peppering kisses and licks all over it. He pulls down the sweetheart line of your dress, exposing your breasts. Your nipples instantly receive a rush of cold air. You try to suppress a soft moan at the contact, but failed.

“No bra, huh?” He smirks as he brings your nipple into his mouth. Alex works on it slowly, giving it kitten licks and pecks.

“Alex,” you sigh, “please…” You’re breathless.

“What is it that you want, love?” He teases. He knows exactly what you want. As he asks this, he switches to your other nipple, giving it the same attention as the other.

Your hands are occupied in scratching his scalp, too busy to touch him. Instead, you press your knee gently to his cock, rubbing it; he’s almost completely hard. Alex groans into your breasts at your touch as he continues his abuse on your nipple.

He gives your nipple one last kiss before he moves even lower to your core. Alex gets on his knees, hands resting on your thighs as he’s looking up at you. It’s almost like he’s pleading.

You nod to give your confirmation. That was all he needed for him to pounce onto you. Alex scatters kisses all across your upper thighs. It was becoming increasingly harder for you to hold in your moans.

He then gives a kiss on your soaked panties, sighing at the sensation.

“Baby, you’re soaking wet. This all for me?” He asks. You were practically dripping.

“All yours, Al.” You respond.

He smirks as he pulls your panties down. You were wearing dark red lace panties, Alex’s favorite color.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says as he kisses your pussy. He then licks a long stripe along it, eliciting a moan you tried hiding with your hand. You almost completely forgot you were in public.

“Quiet, love.” He whispers.

Alex delves his tongue into your folds, collecting your juices. He repeats this a couple of times before he’s satisfied and moves up to your clit. His tongue swirls your clit, sending shocks throughout your body. Your hand is pressed so hard against your mouth, fingers white.

He slides one finger along your folds, spreading your wetness. He then presses his finger against your entrance, sliding right in. You moan despite your hand covering your mouth. Alex pulls off of you for a second to look up, mouth glistening. He gestures a finger over his lips, indicating you to be quiet. You nod in understanding.

“Good girl.” He says, giving his customary smirk. He goes back to work, placing kisses over your clit once again.

You can feel the coil in your abdomen swell with each lick and suck Alex makes. He then inserts another finger, bringing you even closer to the edge. His pace is fast, fingers curling to hit that sweet spot over and over. Your eyes are screwed shut, reveling in the pleasure.

You finally open your eyes to look down at Alex. You find his eyes already on you. He was watching you. With each and every action he did, he was watching you.

With that, the coil snaps, causing you to moan loudly. You don’t care if anyone hears you anymore. Your juices spill out of you, coating Alex’s mouth. He doesn’t move, continuing to abuse your pussy. He lets you ride out your high, better than ever.

Soon after, he gets up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He brings his fingers to your mouth, urging you to taste yourself. You comply, opening your mouth. Alex pushes his fingers into your mouth.

“Don’t you taste divine, love? Absolutely delicious.” You hum in response. “You were such a good girl, cumming on my face. Did so good.” Alex praises. You could live off of his praises alone.

He removes his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, placing them in his mouth to taste you as well. He moans at the taste.

“Alex, I want to please you too.” You say. It isn’t fair that he gave you the best orgasm, but he got nothing in return. Unbuckling his pants, you spring his cock free. Alex moans at your touch, almost unable to control himself.

“No, love. This is about you.” You want to please him, no matter what.

“Please, Alex. I want to.” You drag your fingers along his cock, earning a groan from him.

“Ah..Fine. Let’s go.” You smile. He stuffs himself back into his pants and grabs your hand. Alex walks fast, making a beeline for his car.

Once you get there, he opens the door for you once again. He made sure you were buckled in and drove off towards your apartment.

You couldn’t wait; you were too impatient. You leaned over the center console and unbuckled his pants once again.

“Love, not now. I’m driving.” You don’t listen, continuing to take his cock back out. The effect you had on him drove him wild.

Continuing your torture, you lick a long stripe up his cock. His moans were so cute. You sink your mouth onto him, taking him in slowly. His groan was long and loud, enjoying your mouth on him.

You stayed like this, taking him in slowly. Alex couldn’t help it anymore and bucked his hips up, hitting the back of your throat.

“Ah..love,” He was always sensitive.

He grabs your hair softly, moving your head up and down. You were perfectly fine with this as he deserved it. With each thrust, he moaned. You felt his cock contract. He was close.

Before he could cum, Alex removed your mouth off of him. You looked at him confused. You wanted to make him cum.

“Not yet.” He wanted to make this moment last.

You soon arrived in front of your apartment. Alex parked the car quickly, eager to have some fun with you. He opens your door and you jump out quickly. He grabs your hand once again as you both run inside the building. You laugh, noticing how this is like a cliché straight out of a romance movie.

Once inside the apartment, Alex pushes you against the wall, pressing kisses all over your lips. You were delectable, he thought.

He kissed along your neck to get things going again. Alex didn’t want to hurt you.

You make your way to the bedroom. He pushes you onto the bed as he takes his shirt off. His body is magnificent; his slightly defined chest, toned arms, soft skin.

You pull your dress down, remaining in only your panties. Alex takes his pants off too, standing in just his boxers. He leans over to cage you between his arms. He stops moving, looking into your glittering, dilated eyes. They were beautiful. Just after, Alex leans in to give you a sweet, loving kiss. It wasn’t rough or needy. Just loving, as if he wanted it to last forever. You kiss him back, reciprocating the same sweetness. You could kiss him all day.

As he’s kissing you, Alex movies his fingers inside your panties. His long, veiny fingers slip inside your cunt. You’re still as wet as ever. As he does so, you still hide your moans with your hand.

However, you can now moan as loud as you want; Alex makes that very clear.

“Love, I want to hear you.” He says in a deep tone. He curls his fingers hard, provoking a loud and languid moan from your lips. You couldn’t help it.

“Alex,” your breathless after that. Your boyfriend sure knows how to make you feel good.

“Good girl.” He praises once again. He knew you were anything but bad.

Alex brought you so close to the edge. You were teetering off of it, until he retracted his fingers from your hole.

“No… baby, please,” You whine.

“It’s okay, love. Don’t worry.” He assures. Alex takes off his boxers and gives himself a couple of strokes. He lines himself up with you, but teases your entrance. You let out another whine, frustrated at his actions. He smirked, knowing you were becoming riled up. Just as you were about to speak, he plunged himself into you slowly. He was sure not to hurt you.

“Jesus, you’re so tight.” He breathes out. As he bottoms out, he stills, patiently waiting for you to adjust to him. Alex peppers kisses all across your face, neck, and chest, soothing the slight pain. It soon went away and he started to move slowly. He felt so good.

He steadily increased his pace, causing just enough friction for that familiar coil to build up again. Alex directly hit that sweet spot over and over again. You couldn’t help your moans; they were uncontrollable now.

His pace was now sloppy and fast, overwhelming you, but you don’t care. Alex’s breathing was erratic. He couldn’t contain himself either, it seems. You could feel his cock throb inside you. You were so close.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” Alex whispers in your ear, his voice husky and deep.

And just like that his praise threw you over the edge. Your pussy tightened, squeezing Alex’s cock. He let out a sweet moan at the sensation, his cock twitching. His motions stop as you begin to feel even more full than you already are. Alex came inside you and it felt so good. Oh, what a feeling it was.

He laid on top of you without putting his entire weight. A kiss was placed on your hair gingerly, taking in what just happened. After about a minute, Alex rolled off of you with a groan, making you chuckle. His arm wrapped around you as you snuggled into him. His nose was above your head taking in your scent. You smelled like soft vanilla and cherries; he loved it.

“Alex?” You break the comfortable silence.

“Yes, love?” His voice was carrying a benevolent tone.

“Thank you for today. I really enjoyed it.” You were sincere. It may be hard to express your gratitude towards your boyfriend, but you tried. Alex understands your gratitude and warmly welcomes it.

“Of course, lovely. I’d do anything for you. You’d do the same right?” He asks sarcastically.

“Well…” You joke.

“Well that’s not fair!” He jokes back as he pretends to be shocked. Alex doesn’t expect you to do anything for him in return; he’s perfectly content with pleasing only you. (Of course, you always return the favor either way.) He enjoys doing things for you, no matter what the outcome is. As long as he’s standing next to you, then he’s alright.

“I love you.” He says sleepily.

“Love you too.” You respond.

You’ll forever be thankful to have Alex in your life. Alex believes the same thing. You two are just like food is to humans. You both need as well as want each other. That won’t change.

<><><>

what do you guys think??? i don’t really like it, so it’s ok to say it’s trash 😭 but ty for reading though🫶🏽

tags: @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @ismiledinthebakery

#alex turner #alex turner x you #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #fanfic #fluff #smut #alex turner smut #alex turner fluff #i love alex turner #alex turner is so cute #HE’S MY MAN #alex turner x reader smut #alex turner x reader fluff

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trianna-phoenix · 10 months

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(Bowuigi human au)

Luigi could tell he was being followed, walking down a dark and empty street, he knew it wasn’t just his paranoia

His heart is beating so fast, he barely works up the courage to look behind him, and that’s when he finally sees the man

Wearing a black hoodie and jeans, he was staring directly at Luigi with a mean glare. He didn’t even look away as Luigi made eye contact with him.

The man was only a few feet behind him, he started to speed up, getting closer to Luigi.

Luigi could feel alarms going off in his body, a cold sweat overcoming him as his fight or flight kicks in to full drive.

Luigi ran, he ran as fast as his legs could take him. To his horror he could hear the pounding footsteps of the man running after him.

His mind went blank as he ran forward, distantly he could see a open shop, seemed like a bar.

It was the only building that was open on this street.

Luigi ran as fast as he could towards it.

There was a group of people outside, some big guys Luigi would never dare to even look at. But Luigi wasn’t thinking.

The closest one to him was also the biggest, some guy in a leather jacket, adorned with metal spikes. His hair must’ve been dyed red because Luigi would never believe it was natural. He wasn’t exactly standing alone, there were people near him, but none of them seemed to be talking to or even at him.

Luigi took a chance.

He ran over, not full in his right mind as he took his hand and whispered as loud as he could

“I’m being followed”

Bowser never really liked these bars, his friends would drag him to them once every blue moon but they were always so boring.

There was only so much standing and drinking he could do before he lost his mind.

Now, as the night was coming to a close, he stood outside with a few of those exact friends, some where waiting for their Ubers and bowser wanted to make sure they got home safe, him being the least intoxicated

Well actually, bowser didn’t drink at all, some stupid medical condition he developed after a few crazy years in college.

He huffed, sipping at a glass of soda as he mindlessly listened to his drunk friends ramble.

Bowser didn’t hear him approach before he felt someone roughly grab his hand, they held on tightly and bowser could see how hard they were shaking. They looked terrified.

Bowser just stared at them as they worked up the courage to say something.

He spoke quietly, barely a whisper, but bowser still felt a chill down his spine when they said their grievances

“I’m being followed” they held his hand tightly as they glanced down the street.

Bowser could see him, the man.

He had stopped running, clearly breathing heavily as he just stood there, staring.

Bowser set his drink down on a near by ledge, before pulling the shaking man close to his chest.

He looked about five steps away from a panic attack, trembling with wide eyes.

“What’s your name?” He asked trying to figure out what he should do

“L-Luigi” he struggled to speak over how intensely he was shaking, bowser placed a hand on his shoulder

“Well Luigi, let me take you home” he looked away from the man, still standing halfway down the street to look at the man in his arms

He had dark brown hair, wore a green shirt and a cardigan.

Luigi glanced up towards him, and bowser nearly stopped breathing. His eyes, they were bright blue, they looked like jewels. He’d never seen anything like it.

They were gorgeous.

Bowser blinked as he watched Luigi’s lip twitch, he seemed about to cry. Bowser didn’t want that at all.

“Is that okay?” He followed, worried he had made himself seem dangerous.

But Luigi nodded his head, stepping closer to bowser as the man tilted his head. It was eerie, how he hadn’t tried to move closer to them, but didn’t leave.

Bowser lived close by, just a street over, which is mostly why he hadn’t gotten himself an Uber.

“My house isn’t far from here, do you mind if we go there?”

Luigi shook his head and bowser immediately started walking with Luigi right in front of him.

His friends were too drunk to even notice him leaving.

(Anyway I don’t feel like writing anymore of this but feel free to use it as a prompt as long at you credit me)

(And yes they get home safe then bowser walks Luigi to his own place the next morning we’re Luigi gives him his number)

#bowuigi #bowser x luigi #bowigi #bowser #luigi #tw stalking #fanfic #fanfiction prompts

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miss-anachronism · 6 days

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for requests. i need. valen x male magister merlin. im a sucker for this guy. anything really. thank you!

Ooh, I’ve never read an x reader/MC fic, let alone written one! New territory, as exciting as it is scary.

I’m not so sure I have a good grip on Valen’s character, but I tried to write it from his perspective. I hope this suits your needs! It gets a bit philosophical. And sorry if its OOC :,)

He isn’t sure what to think, really.

They’re sitting around a dying campfire, just outside the borders of the Dark Forest. Lorsan is pacing somewhere in the distance, muttering to himself, or to the wind, maybe. Trying to figure out what’s happened to his home. Korin leans against a tree, tending to his wounds- courtesy of Merlin. The magister himself is across from Valen, wrapping his own wound and chattering with his hamsters.

Logically, Valen knows that the lesson he should have taken from this scramble is a lot more profound than what’s been on his mind. He should be contemplating the Wilders, the forest, their next steps, how to protect the refugees. And he’s trying to, but it’s just that something- someone- keeps catching his attention.

He didn’t know Merlin could bleed.

It’s such a silly observation. But as Valen watches the angry red wound on Merlin’s forearm, his gut twists. It’s like seeing a god’s flesh tear, and seeing that its blood is the same bright red as his own.

Valen isn’t sure what exactly Merlin is. As far as he knows, no one does, not even Merlin himself. But to the average young Lightbearer, he’s a myth. A legendary figure that you might glimpse once in your life, but would never get to meet. Never speak with, let alone camp alongside. Fight alongside. Merlin throws his head back to laugh at something Chippy has said, and something stirs in Valen’s ribs, something he knows is dangerous.

All of this is dangerous. Merlin is not someone to be loved; Valen has seen what happened to Mirael. Forgotten about, left in the dust, accidentally as it was. The way she watches Merlin, her face made of mixed admiration, bitterness, and regret. He wonders if she would take it all back, if she could. Scariest of all, when she bid them farewell, the look in her eyes sent an ugly pain of jealousy through Valen’s chest. And he doesn’t want that to happen to him, selfish as that may be. Every time Merlin falls asleep, he risks waking up knowing nothing.

Besides, what is Valen to a hero of myth? His whole life has been barely a blink in Merlin’s. Whatever he is, there is no reasonable way Valen could ever mean something to Merlin the way that Merlin is beginning to mean something to him. Merlin will outlive him a thousand times over. And he’s probably met a thousand different people, fallen in love with quite a few of them. Someone who has experienced so much life, so much loss, can they still love? Could they ever?

And yet, he bleeds. It’s such a human weakness that it seems impossible. Valen knew heroes could bleed; he didn’t know gods could. Merlin does not go about the world serene and calculating, watching every moment with practiced ease. He stumbles, laughs, misses with his spells. He jostles Valen’s pauldron excitedly when they win a fight, he’s the last to flee when they lose, ensuring everyone else has disengaged safely. He has only one dimple, on his left cheek. Sometimes he speaks so fast his words blend together, and Hammie has to remind him to slow down. It’s endearing. It’s human. Valen doesn’t know what to do with it. Because it was so much easier, to write off affection as admiration. When the pieces had first clicked, he thought it all made sense. The natural pull that the magister gave off- yes, of course, it was just Merlin’s nature. But they’re a week into this camaraderie, and Valen keeps noticing things like the lick of hair on his neck that doesn’t sit flat.

Pretty fucking annoying, that’s what it is. Valen’s always prouded himself on his ability to swerve out of love’s path. He can flirt and charm all he wants, but at the end of the day all the love letters he receives are ink and paper, nothing more. Whenever someone seriously reciprocates- god forbid- he disengages as smoothly as he can, lest they get the wrong impression.

But Merlin has changed all that, somehow. Impossibly so. He supposes it’s in his nature, to take everything and turn it upside down. Valen doesn’t want to flirt with the Magister, to laugh as he flushes under his praise. Well, it would be nice, he always has liked the attention; but the thing is, that isn’t the point. With Merlin, he just wants to be. No performance, no elaborate courtship. Just… be. Together. All this, for someone who is more myth than man.

It seems like the scariest thing he’s ever faced.

“Valen?”

He jumps as the magister suddenly speaks, and realizes with mounting embarrassment that he’s been staring the whole time. Luckily, the magister grins good-naturedly- and ah, there’s that dimple again.

“Lost in thought?”

“You could say that.”

He leans back on his hands and forces his face into a smirk. It’s easier than he anticipated; despite everything, Merlin makes it simple to be around him.

“I’ve been meaning to say,” Merlin mirrors his position as Chippy and Hammie scuttle away, the former setting off on a quest to climb the nearest tree, “I really appreciate your help in all of this. Coming along, and aiding me- far past your assigned duties. It isn’t lost to me.”

Valen gives him a look. “Of course, magister. I’m not one to leave danger to fester; I’m sorry you ever had that impression of me.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Merlin’s brow furrows as he collects his thoughts. “You know, you seem so… charmingly nonchalant. Like nothing bothers you. But that clearly isn’t true. You care a lot, Valen, and it’s really, really nice to see. You’re someone who is just… good, you know? And I appreciate it.” He grins sheepishly. “Sorry. Kinda cheesy compliment. I’ve lost all my memories, you know, but being around you- and Lorsan, Cassadee, Mirael- honestly, I don’t feel like I’m missing much of anything. Everything I need is right here.”

He shrugs and turns back to the fire, as if he has not sent Valen’s mind reeling. Functionally, Merlin has been aware for only a week- one week out of thousands of years. He’s wondered how he’s been so calm about the whole thing, and…

And it’s hard to believe, but it’s much harder to doubt what Merlin says, not as he stares into the fire with that soft smile. It dawns on Valen that he probably knows more about Merlin than Merlin does- all of the legends, at least. And yet, despite that insurmountable legacy, despite the name and title that bears unimaginable weight, Merlin is… content. Content in just moving forward, and hoping he’s doing the right thing.

And isn’t that all that Valen’s doing, as well? He doesn’t deserve all this praise; he always shies away from large displays of gratitude, loathing how awkward they make him feel. Because he’s just moving forward, and trying to do the right thing. It’s a simple motive, really. Faith, and what effort it takes to retain it. He always thought Merlin would have some deeper, existential knowledge of the world that would put all else to shame- access to the secrets of the universe, and what not. And, certainly, his magical capabilities are second to none- but his philosophy, the way he lives; it very well might be human after all.

Maybe the usual Merlin, the one with all his memories, is the knowledgeable, immovable sage that Valen grew to look up to. Maybe, once restored, Merlin will become that god-like fairytale hero, wisdom surpassing all others, power knowing no ends.

Selfishly, Valen hopes that never happens. That the Merlin in front of him stays the same, annoying dimple and all, and keeps looking at Valen like that. Like he sees something in him that Valen never knew was there. He hopes Merlin never raises above their quips, their banter.

He know’s it’s all in vain. But god, he hopes.

#afk journey #afk Valen #fanfic #ghostie writes #afk merlin

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stevethehairington · 1 year

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33 "Close your eyes and hold out your hands" for Steddie? 🖤

helloooo, thank you for sending this in!!!! 💕 i LOVE this one and omg i have been wanting to expand upon the idea i had below for SO long and this gave me the PERFECT chance to do so so THANK YOU ahh.

33. "close your eyes and hold out your hands"

Let it be known that the Munson’s are collectors.

Wayne has his baseball caps, his mugs. Eddie’s mother collected vinyls. His father — prison sentences.

And Eddie? Eddie collects rocks. Sometimes buttons, occasionally shells, if he can find them. Feathers, once in a blue moon. But mostly rocks. Big rocks, small rocks, rocks that are round and perfectly smooth, rocks that have jagged edges and funky protrusions. Rocks made of coarse granite and rocks made of translucent quartz, and once, notably, a rock made of sleek, inky obsidian. He collects gray rocks and brown rocks, green rocks and red rocks. His favorites are the purple ones that crack open to crystals.

So Eddie collects rocks. But he never keeps them for himself.

You see, every rock he finds — every bottle cap, every loose coin, every lost charm — he gives to Steve.

And Steve? Steve holds onto every single one of them. He keeps a shoebox tucked away safe and sound beneath the bed, and inside the shoebox is his trove of cherished treasures. All of the things that Eddie has gifted him with over the years. Every so often, he’ll take the box out, sit on the floor, and sort through the trinkets. He’ll smile at the sea glass and marvel at the marbles, and count all of the rocks, laughing as the number climbs and climbs. (His favorite is the purple one too.)

The trails are a pretty good place to find rocks — the best, actually. This is something that Eddie has learned personally.

In his bid to find hobbies outside of carting overgrown children to the arcade and the local diner and holing up in stale basements to watch movie after movie, Steve takes up hiking of all things. There’s something about the combination of a good workout, fresh air, and the chance to become one with nature or some bullshit like that that ends up being too damn irresistible to him. He takes to it like a fish to water.

Eddie, to the surprise of them both, likes to tag along on Steve’s hikes. Or — likes to isn’t quite right: Edide tags along. Outdoorsy activities have never been his favorite, and exercise isn’t exactly his idea of a fun time, but Steve likes both of those things, and Eddie loves Steve. He wants to be able to do things with his boyfriend, things that Steve likes. He wants to show his support for Steve’s interests the same way that Steve shows support for his.

So Eddie goes on hikes.

Has been going on hikes for the past three years now, believe it or not.

The hikes are hell, mostly. Uphill battles that leave his lungs burning and his calves straining and his feet aching. By the end, his bangs are always stuck unflatteringly to his forehead, and his shirt is soaked through.

Even after all this time, they still don’t get easier.

(That probably has something to do with Eddie’s healthy appetite for cigarettes and chalices of mountain dew and those god damned Scotcheroos of Claudia Henderson’s that he can never just eat one of. But whatever. Some things are too good to give up.)

The twinging muscles and the fucked up hair and the general funk seeping out of his skin are always made worth it when they finally reach the peak and Steve positively glows. The way his smile stretches across his face, big and bright; the way he angles his face towards the sun and breathes in the clean air; the way he turns to Eddie and grabs his hand and says, “Isn’t this great?” in the most genuine, wondrous manner.

“The greatest,” Eddie always agrees, and he means it every time.

They are also made worth it by all of the rocks that Eddie finds along the way. Because old habits die hard. (Or not at all, in this case.)

It is these two things — the hiking and the rock collecting — that come together as the perfect catalysts to set in motion the plan he’s been hanging onto for months now.

“Isn’t the view beautiful?” Steve asks, looking out past the edge of the cliff they’d just made it to the top of. In the distance, the sun is just beginning to peak out from behind the trees, casting a golden glow across the lake below.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Eddie replies, nearly tripping Steve up as he sidesteps into his space to lean in close and pop a kiss to his cheekbone.

Steve ducks his head and bats Eddie’s shoulder with his free hand, laughing softly. His other hand is clasped in Eddie’s, hanging between them and swinging lightly with each step. “Cheeseball,” he says, and Eddie just laughs.

They continue to follow the path, enjoying the view of the lake and the dewy morning air and the companionship of one another.

As always, it doesn’t take long before something hidden away in the greenery catches Eddie’s attention. He perks up, dropping Steve’s hand before he darts ahead towards a little patch of dandelions.

Steve shakes his head fondly as Eddie crouches down and starts to pick something out of the weeds. He wonders idly what it is, exactly, that snagged Eddie’s eye this time.

There are a few dandelions between his fingers when he rises back to his feet and starts towards Steve again, but there’s something else too — something clutched safely in the cup of his hand, concealed by his fingers.

He comes to a stop in front of Steve, bouncing on his heels as an enthusiastic smile spreads across his lips. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” he instructs with a tilt of his head.

Steve obliges, always willing to go along with the silly little rigamarole Eddie puts them through each time he has a new trinket for Steve. His eyes flutter shut and he extends his hand.

“I gotcha another rock, Stevie,” Eddie says softly, pacing something gently into the center of Steve’s hand before folding his fingers securely around it.

Eddie’s gift settles into his palm and it feels lighter than any of the other rocks Eddie’s given him. Steve contemplates what kind of rock it might be, what it’s going to look like, if there’s any defining feature that drew Eddie to it in the first place.

“You can look now,” Eddie says.

Steve opens his eyes, and looks down at his hand. Slowly, he unfurls his fist and —

Oh.

It’s not a rock that sits against his palm. Not the kind you find on the ground anyways.

It’s a ring. The rock in question — a diamond, small and tasteful right in the center of a thin silver band.

Steve promptly loses his breath.

When he looks up with shining eyes, Eddie is kneeling in front of him. He’s still red in the cheeks from their hike, kind of sweaty too, with his hair sticking up from where it’s tucked behind his bandana. They’ve had plenty of time to cool down, but he looks breathless, as he gazes up at Steve with big, hopeful eyes and a crooked little smile.

He’s beautiful.

“So what do you say, Stevie?” Eddie asks, holding his little bouquet of dandelions. “Wanna add that one to your collection too?”

The laugh that bubbles up and out of Steve is giddy and electrified and tinged with wetness as the happy tears start to spill over his lashline. He closes his fingers back around the ring and he stumbles forward to fist his other hand into the front of Eddie’s t-shirt and haul him to his feet so he can tug him into a kiss.

“Yes,” he mumbles against Eddie’s lips, “yes, yes, yes.”

Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s waist and he laughs too, until they’re smiling into one another’s mouths more than kissing.

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and flattens his hand, depositing the ring into his open palm. He sticks his own hand out then, the left one, and wiggles his ring finger eagerly. “Put it on me!” He requests.

Eddie laughs, but does just that. He takes Steve’s hand gently into his own and slides the ring down the length of his finger until it fits snugly at the base, right there against his knuckle. It glitters in the sunlight, and Eddie draws Steve’s hand up to his lips so he can press a sweet kiss just above it.

“Thank god you said yes,” Eddie says, twining his fingers with Steve’s and pulling him back in for another kiss in between. “If you made me climb a whole ass mountain and then said no…” he trails off, shaking his head.

Steve snorts. “You love it,” he says. “You love me.”

Eddie softens. “I do,” he says. “And I get to do it forever now.”

“Forever sounds pretty damn nice,” Steve tells him.

“It sure does.” 100 ways to say i love you prompts

#asks #vecnuthy #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mack writes #macks ficlets

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assortedvillainvault · 9 days

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Hello! If it's okay to request/ask, headcannon of TFA Blitzwing (each of his personalities) x Reader? Reader has a split or multiple personality. Kinda like Jekyll and Hyde (but sometimes a softie w/ close/loved ones, family/friends), if you're familiar with it. Can be Romantic and/or platonic…

(Gender-neutral/Female) Reader's a human and they aren't involved with any cybertronians situations…

(PS. Thank you if you answer this! if not, I'll enjoy your stuff either way.)

Hi Anon! I’ve been thinking about this one for a while! Sorry for the wait, I have a little bit of history with DID (as in I don’t suffer personally, but have been close with others that do), so wanted to get this one right. Blitwing was unironically a comfort character originally due to said struggles and trying to strike a balance between ‘funky space-german giant robot villain’ and ‘this is a serious real life condition with a lot of misinformation and prejudices’ can get a tad challenging.

Anyhoo, Long post alert. DID is discussed but no real warnings for this one. Lets go!

Blitzwing x DID!Reader

- DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) results in humans having multiple, distinct personalities – from as few as 3 or 4 (like our favourite triplechanger) to up to 100 in some cases. The Jekyll & Hyde - esque nature of yours is something you’re at least slightly grateful for – at least it’s simple!

- Granted, it doesn’t really help when your city is attacked by giant space robots. Repeatedly. Every week. Both personalities agree it’s a pain in the neck – switching out and coming-to mid war zone with no warning isn’t exactly relaxing.

- Your first meeting was very subtle. Crawled behind overturned cars and bridge rubble, ducking down as the buildings behind you were ripped up with a squeal of steel and concrete. An enormous giant tank/plane/robot shaking the ground, hollering with rage at a bright yellow little car zooming in the distance.

- “JOU PATHETIC LITTLE BUG!! I’LL - cUt JoU iNtO iTTy BiTtY stReaMerS!! HAhAha vE’re gOnNa haVe a PaRty – at jour base, perhaps, now zat ve know where it is, Autobot~”

- You couldn’t believe your fucking eyes -

- “Holy Shit SAME HAT?!”

- Red eyes snap to your dumbfounded expression, narrowing.

- Yeah. Maybe hollering it across no mans land wasn’t the smartest move.

Icy:

- He had no idea his affliction could be shared with organics. He didn’t even realise he was witnessing DID at first as you can’t literally switch faces. Come to think of it – I’m not sure cybertronians even have a word for it. He adopts your terms like a duck to water.

- Of the three he’s the most fascinated observer. He’s quick to document any minor tone shifts or facial expressions to indicate a switch between your two personalities – as well as the speed at which you change, your stressors and mannerisms. He can’t imagine dealing well if someone were to – somehow – get his alters mixed up, so he takes pains to greet both personalities properly.

- Is more likely the one to ask questions and approach the subject scientifically: though he will back off if the ‘Jekyll’ personality gets in his face about being treated like a science experiment. He knows the feeling and despises it.

- Just because he’s calm about it though, doesn’t mean he’s moralistic. Icy has a known sadistic streak and enjoys setting up situations to hurt people (see: the almost-murder of the Constructobots) so he’d be… intrigued to see how far your aspects were willing to go. He’s an enabler of destructive behaviour that specialises in not getting you caught.

Hothead:

- Hothead, by contrast – is much more reactive: blunt and easily confused.

- He will likely get your alters mixed up and become flustered and annoyed until he gets the hang of who is presenting when. Give him a bit, he despises asking Icy for help with anything.

- Yeah, of course he can – what do you MEAN you can’t communicate with your alters internally?? Do organics not come with a built in comm?? What the FRAG-

- He doesn’t like feeling out of sorts about finding someone with his condition. As far as he’d known, they were the only one ever to be split as they are. Someone who knows what it’s like, while desperately needed, is now almost unnerving.

- But he is an excellent vent buddy about multiple personality issues. If your alters want to chat shit about each other then Hothead is DOWN, he has a list of complaints about Icy and Random a mile long – even though airing them gets him interrupted by said alters all the damn time.

- Hothead will encourage violent coping mechanisms to your problems: if you have someone bothering you with some horror-movie assumptive bullshit about your disorder he is 1000% percent encouraging you to lure them behind a building for him to grind under his pedes.

Random:

- NEW FRIENDS?! New friends INSIDE of friends, oh he just wants to stuff you in his mouth and unravel you -

- Random is probably the first of the three to recognise your shared disorder. And when he gleefully tells his alters they don’t believe him (at least at first). Which doesn’t matter because you are now BEST FRIENDS. He’s gonna scoop you up and stuff you in his cockpit and make you a little hole in the mines riiiiiiight next to his berth. Don’t worry about telling him yes - he already knows your address!

- No matter how threatening you might think yourself to be, to Random you are the most adorable schmoopsie moo in the whole galaxy and he will commit war crimes to have you tucked into his pockets.

- Do not. Try him. In one-upmanship. Random knows exactly how far he will go to keep you with him and unlike Icy, who prefers to observe from a distance, Random will actively engage in finding very uncomfortable boundaries very quickly. Pretty much the only way to reign him in is to not play along in the slightest.

- He hates being ignored.

- He wants to hear and know everything about you, and will hop between subjects to a pattern only he knows. He’s exhausting, but probably also the most honest and vulnerable of the personalities.

- With Random, it’s most obvious that Blitzwing has total, universal acceptance of your personalities as they are. No dismissal, no belittling, no questions and no doubt.

- I’d say thats a breath of fresh air.

#thalassa responds #thanks so much for the ask!#blitzwing x reader #tfa blitzwing #x reader #transformers animated #transformers #maccadam #hopefully I did the DID parts right #if anyone sees any glaring errors let me know #blitzwing my beloved I have so many asks for yu in my inbox holy shit

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

Text

JASON TODD & DUKE THOMAS (generalized canon)

────────────────────

“A Word Of Warning” (Jason Todd x Fem!Reader) and (Duke Thomas & Platonic!Reader)

| The Bats clock you as a known associate of The Red Hood and Signal ends up tracking you down for some answers.

| SFW, Jason isn’t apart of the Bat Clan, Caribbean-American!reader(just a bit; for the plot)

| This’s technically based off of a story I’m working on but because of where I have it placed in the timeline this idea with Duke (who’s who I thought of originally for it) wouldn’t really fit because Duke wouldn’t be old enough yet so yeah. (picture source: new talent showcase #1 comic)

| 4k+ words

Beg. NOTES: This is the first time I’ve ever written either Duke or Antagonist Red Hood (as opposed to just Jason or Red Hood making nice) so bare with me I’m still figuring them out, especially Duke. Also I am going to quit this app if it keeps deleted my shit, omfg.

Other notions notwithstanding you’re of the opinion Gotham looks its best right before sunset. The city’s ever present shadows coming out of hiding to climb up the horizon and take over the sun were incredibly fitting considering who kept vigil of the place. And you loved the way the weaker heat felt against your skin on cooler days like this one before you blended into the lack of light that came at nightfall.

There was just something to be said about two forces so intrinsic to the universe meeting. Of light breeze and dwindling blaze. Of sitting near the edge of a roof, feet almost dangling over the side of too dangerous, and taking it all in.

Of the blaring of cars in the late rush of the oncoming evening and the way the air shifts just a little to your left. Natural flow blocked by some anomaly. Out of place but easy enough to overlook. Too bad to whichever cape’s appeared that you’ve been listening out for that particular party trick for the last half a year. Although it admittedly wasn’t something you worried about during the day.

“Let me guess? Hands in the air?”

“Hell no,” a voice scoffs. ��I’m just here as a concerned party. If I were some cop I wouldn’t’ve even let you talk before I had you in cuffs. Knee in your back too probably.”

A shrug of your shoulder is a decent enough answer in your book. You don’t feel like adding to the list of vigilantes you regularly interact with - more acceptable than the police though they were. Not even a little.

“No disrespect, but get to the point. We both know you didn’t start lurking on me just cause.”

He kisses his teeth, you can’t tell whether it’s out of irritation or not.

“Fine. I found you out. A crime lord? Really?”

There it is. You turn to him then, immediately caught up by how bright his costume is even against Gotham’s sun. Everything in the city was just a little askew and the way the sun beat down on y’all was no exception, but he somehow came across brighter.

He’s particolored yellow against the dark gothic backgrounds of your old-as-sin apartment complex, not hiding in the shadows or completely out in the open, but a third secret option: managing to be swallowed by them without trying regardless. The leftover light in the sky doing nothing to thwart how well he’s hidden. Like a moth to the dark he still manages to blur just at the corner of your vision, dark tendrils crawling up his form and sinking near seamlessly into his suit; clashing colors ombreing and turning parts of it flaxon.

“I wasn’t aware you were my keeper.”

The idea of craning your head any longer isn’t exactly appealing, and it’s not as if you’d be able to do anything if he tried something, so you look back out over the city eyes narrowing when he speaks.

“Hood might keep a close eye on the Narrows, and I might even appreciate it sometimes, but over here is still my territory.”

“Right,” you grunt. That wasn’t exactly the answer you were gearing up for. You’d expected something along the lines of his ‘boss’ having sent him. “Well what gave me away then?”

“We knew you had to have been from North considering Hood’s change in visiting pattern was only half an inch outside of the Alley, but me?” He steps out of the shadows and looking at him makes your eyes burn even without him using his powers. Bright colors in Gotham should be damn outlawed. “Hoodie and mask or not. There’s only three women with that accent in the Narrows, Y/n. I checked for multi citizenship from areas with Caribbean dialects, then found your mom, which led me to you since she was too old to be messing with the Red Hood.”

“Fuck,” you curse in a rush, gaping at the escaping light in the sky.

“Yeah, you should really work on masking that.”

“Shit.” You had thought you were. “I made sure I was yanking the whole time, there's no way. You must’ve followed me home or something.”

“Bet.”

That’s all he says. No follow up proposal, no fluffing up his sentence to cover for being called out, nothing. Just a cocky upturn of one corner of his mouth and that self assured silence.

“…Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he slips down to your left, sitting beside you. “It’s hard for you to get rid of how you elongate your a’s. It’s a super distinct ‘ah’ sound if you know what to look for and I just so happen to know. But don’t worry I haven’t told Batman yet.”

“Yet?”

“Yes, yet. I might not be the oldest hero on the block but I know bad decisions when I see them.”

“Make your fair share, have you?”

Your murmur comes out more defensive than you want. First he was telling you you couldn’t hide your accent for shit - despite having practiced extensively with Hood - and now he was telling you The Batman wanted in your business. Fuck indeed.

Would you go to jail for being associated with a known criminal? Does dating a killer count as accessory to every one of his crimes? Can you believably argue ignorance of his actions? These really do feel like questions you should’ve asked beforehand.

There’s the distinct impression he’s rolling his eyes under that visor when Signal responds next.

“Hilarious, but this isn’t about me. It’s about whether you know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he laughs a little when you scowl. “I’m just saying. You're not the Bonnie to his Clyde - or whatever cutesy metaphor you wanna use - you haven’t done anything offensable. It's not too late you can’t get out.”

You scoff quietly and go back to watching the night’s hues slowly swallowing the day's light whole. “Who says I want out?” It’s pretty the way the colors swirl. Like a fight.

“Why wouldn’t you?” He looks away from you frowning, marring what you can see of his face, before holding his hand up. “No wait, don’t answer that, just hear me out. I get it - wanting to help - I really do and I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't support it. But if you don’t know what you’re about, leave while you still can. This superhero thing gets less about creed and more about survival the further you get sucked into it and once the rest of the Bats are onto you that’s it.”

Oh that would definitely be ‘it’, but not tonight. Tapping the screen of your otherwise forgotten phone shows the thirty six minutes of time you've got before seven o'clock to get to where Hood asked you to meet near the city hall district.

“I’m sorry, do you have something better to do than listen to me trying to save your life?”

You grimace lightly, “Listen, I appreciate the concern but if you're not going to do anything but tell me shit I already know I’m just- gonna go.”

“Alright, I know a cape tracking you down ain’t fun but come on-” he cuts himself off so fast his teeth audibly clink together then all at once he’s standing again.

You tense yourself, breath catching in your throat, and roll around so you can see where he’s facing. There’s a second where nothing meets you but the cresting shadows and bronze lighting desperately spreading its fingers over gravel. It’s quiet save for the swooping breeze then Signal twitches. It’s like a chill has gone through his body, like something tugged on wrong when somebody’s hand is in your hair.

An ice struck down your spine type of grimace that has you cringing in sympathy.

Just as Signal steps fully in front of you the shadows around the concrete bulkhead a few feet away stretch outward before materializing into something person shaped. Signal shivers again like he can feel the elasticity.

“Narrows! Funny seeing you here,” a harsh mechanized voice sounds. Dark tactical gear slowly becomes discernible from the shade as the person moves closer until that telltale flash of red greets you both.

Your breath un-catches and you breathe out harshly through your nose, clambering to your feet. He was ten minutes too early and miles away from the southeast side.

“Not really, considering I live here and all, but whatever.”

In response the guy takes another step closer. Signil’s hand twitches but he doesn’t move for the eskrima you all know is at his back.

“Right, well, I don’t really appreciate people messing with my informants.”

“I’d suggest not meeting them so out in the open then,” he gives a blight shrug.

The newest rooftop occupant shakes his head with a low chuckle.

“I wasn’t. You guys are just nosy and -uh- what am I forgetting?” He snaps his fingers, somehow managing to make it sound incredibly obnoxious. “Oh, that’s right! I was also in civies. What’s next, you guys gonna bombard the owner of the bodega I shop at too?”

“I wasn’t bombarding her. I was passing on a message.”

Hood nods and his voice reverberates in a low growl through the modulator when he hums. “Mmm, okay well. Y/n?”

“Message received,” you brush some roof gravel from your clothes still trying to decide how you feel about him coming to your ‘rescue’ like this.

“Well you heard the lady, Narrows. See ya later.”

“Listen man, I’m not trying to fight if I don’t have to, but do you really think this’s a good idea?”

“You know what, Signal? I like you so I’ll keep that noted, but you tell Daddy Bats if he forces the issue it’ll officially become my business. Now kindly fuck off, the suns setting.”

There’s a pause where the two of them just stare one another down and then Signal crosses his arms, feet planted.

“If I don’t?”

“Wow,” Jason groans, head falling into his hands for a beat before he looks back up. The blank face of the helmet doesn’t give anything away but the way he lets his body slump, hands falling to his sides, is telling enough. As much as you like Signal you kinda agree. “How does he put up with you?”

The vigilante shrugs, “He couldn’t stop me if he wanted; better to just get in the passenger’s seat.”

“Poetic,” he scoffs. “Alright, let me put it this way. You're a smart kid, you know nothing’ll happen if she’s seen with some unknown white guy but what about when people catch on that Batman’s interested in her? What then?”

It takes a second, and Signal doesn’t uncross his arms, but his shoulders lower and he shifts his weight to one side.

“Us poking around is more dangerous for her than your civilian identity, I got it.” He huffs. You can see his grimace even from behind. “But that doesn’t mean I got to trust her with you.”

“Wrong.” Jason rises back to his full height with a shake of his head. “This isn’t up for debate. She’s not going anywhere.”

You jerk forward, walking a few steps in front of Signal so you can stand to the side of him while still being seen by both males, scowl taking over your features.

“She - if anybody’s curious - does still possess the ability to make her own decisions. I know what I’m doing, I don’t need a babysitter.”

Signal turns to you with the most dubious head tilt. “You’re sure you know what you're doing?”

You cross your arms, “Fuck you, I’m figuring it out.”

A beat goes by of everyone collectively doing their best impression of a gaggle of directionless mimes before Signal groans.

“Say I believe you. How exactly do you expect me to keep Batman off of your tail when he figures your identity out?”

When Hood laughs it’s so hard the responder crackles in and out of clarity. He waves Signal off. “I’ll deal with him, don’t sweat it.”

The way Signal’s pressing his weight forward says for all the world that he would very much like to sweat it, but he still sighs anyway, dropping his arms to unclip his grapple. He looks to you for a second time.

“You’ll tell me if anything happens?”

The response you give is mostly shrug.

“Sure, Kid, whatever, you’ll be the first one I call,” you throw out while glaring in the general direction of Jason’s eyes. In any case, Signal being added to the list was better than Batman.

The diurnal bat accepts your words with a small smile, shoots Jason what you can only assume to be a warning look, and then swings off with an elated whoop to switch shifts with the rest of the clan.

“And don’t follow me like that again, thanks!” you call out to the vigilante’s retreating form. Mostly though the words are for Jason who’s managed to tuck himself back near the shadows, setting sun washing over him from behind and making him look a lot like a red dahlia set ablaze.

“Did you hear me good?” With the other gone you allow yourself to turn to Jason headlong.

“Y/n-”

“Nope. No,” you parry, moving closer. “What happened to ‘meet at city hall’?”

“You weren’t moving,” he throws out while pushing off the concrete to intercept you. His hands glide up your arms till he can grasp onto your forearms and turn you around, hold more cradle than control as he guides you to the wall.

You let him do it but the furrow in your brows doesn’t budge. The mask, red and frustratingly unyielding, does much the same with far less effort.

“Now how,” you click your tongue. “Did you know that?”

The second your back brushes along the wall he stops responding, helmet tipping this way and that.

“He didn’t come anywhere near touching me,” you roll your eyes. “Did you put a tracker on me?”

Jason shrugs, doesn’t bother answering you in any direction.

“What were you two getting all yuppy about?”

The corner of your mouth twitches downward and you don’t bother fixing it.

“Hood,” you ground out, body a tense obstruction as you get in his face enough he can’t keep up his examination.

In turn Jason doesn’t give an inch but the sound that comes out of the modulator is harsh, likely just a heavy sigh, but your fists ball regardless; too keyed up to parse out the difference.

“Your find my phone app works perfectly fine.”

“Oh,” you shift your gaze away from glowing eyes to look at the moon overlapping some of the last remnants of the sun's rays, features evening out. He waits until you slump back into the wall to speak next.

“You done?”

Lips pursed you give into that deadpan tone with a tiny shrug.

“Yeah I’m done.”

A beat or five goes by, you’re not sure cause you’re not watching, before he sighs shoulders coming in and out of your peripheral.

“C'mon Slick,” Jason intones quietly. He reaches to the back of the helmet and releases the catch. His brows are practically furrowed over his domino when you’re finally able to get a good look at him and he tucks the helmet into his side, pointing at you with his free hand. “I’m just watching out for you. You have got to keep yourself outta trouble.”

“Please I would hardly count that as ‘trouble’,” you push his hand away and slip off around him to walk to the roof access door. “And you told them I was your informant, really?”

You don’t react to the ‘oh my god’ he breathes out behind you but you do let the door close in his face when you walk into the stairwell.

It’s petty but the name of the game currently seems to be how petty can you get so at least you aren’t breaking any rules.

You've already made it halfway to the hallway entrance when Jason flings the heavy metal open with a low curse. “Would you rather the alternative?”

“I would rather a partner who trusts me.”

The door slams shut and the only thing lighting the way is the sickly colored lights, the palest possible imitation of the now sleeping sun, and the scarcely lit red EXIT hanging above the top landing. None of that manages to hinder how open Jason's body language has become or stop you from reading the hurt from him when you chance a second long glance backward.

“I do trust you- just not against a cape. Not right now.”

“Hmph.” You don’t stop or turn around but you slow your gait so you’re not thundering down the steps anymore. “But not never?”

“Evidently,” he grunts, coming down the stairs in that oddly silent way that doesn’t even make the air being displaced under his feet echo. “Now what the hell’s got you so up in arms?”

“There’s nothing ‘up’ with me.” The hall door opens by your hand a sliver of the way before one of Jason’s hands clasps over yours on the lever and forces it back into place. It makes you jump, he hadn’t sounded so close.

The click of the latch bolt sounds suspiciously final. You puff out a light breath. It hits the door in one streamlined wave of nerves. In the meantime Jason’s body presses along the length of your back like he belongs there; it’s so natural. You shiver and relax your hand on the handle. Allow it to slip off with his own when he lets go.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working on this shit? Talk to me, will you?”

Rocking back on your heels to mold into his warmth you close your eyes, head falling onto his chest.

“If I don’t?”

He matches your whisper with one of his own, words nearly coiling around you with his delivery.

“If there’s zero stubborn people in the world then you’re dead, Y/n. We both know I can’t make you do fuck all.”

“Hmm,” you scoff quietly. “If there’s no stubborn people left you’d have to be dead too, you know?”

“I don’t think I’d mind being dead with you too much,” Jason says while knocking your heads lightly together. It makes you snort and you turn around with another sigh to face him.

“Corny ass,” you say. Jason shrugs.

“For you, yeah.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh at the smile that tugs at his lips. “When did we trade places?”

“Beats the hell outta me,” he steps in front of the nothing you’re staring at so you’ll stop avoiding his gaze. “Now talk.”

You track the bend of his mouth. The easy smile that’s only now - finally, after a year - becoming real and you fold faster than a snapped leg in an interrogation.

“The tracking scares me,” you let out in a rush.

He tenses, that grin disappears, and you want to swallow your words back.

“We can cut the tracker-”

“Nah that’s not what I meant. I don’t…mind it when it’s you. I know what you’re doing with the information, but…” you swallow, looking over then up at the door.

Out of the corner of your eye the thin line of his lips turns into a grimace and then a sneer.

“But Batman,” he grunts and you nod, humorless laugh falling past plush lips.

“Yeah, the fucking Batman - and I know you’ve got me and I’m not gonna harp on it cause I don’t wanna stimulate the little hate boner you’ve got for the man - but this is…a lot.”

Jason bites the inside of his cheek and you watch him stew over what you’ve just said. His forehead creases and his brows raise and his frown somehow gets deeper and then he inhales.

“It’s not too late for you to get out.”

His jaw clenches like he’s just tasted something unappealing but won’t admit it and you raise a brow.

“Huh. You know Signal said the same thing?”

It takes a beat before he can pry his mouth open.

“Did he?”

His voice is too soft like you’re about to tell him someone died and it makes your heart rattle.

“Yup,” you say, voice still hushed.

“And?”

You feel the exact second your gazes meet. Feel so intricately the way watercolor blue meets copper brown as if it was a physical thing. The domino over his eyes does nothing to mask that natural intensity.

A deep breath.

“And I’m in this until it blows up in my face, consequences be damned, if the Bat’s not willing to put in the effort then I will. We deserve that much.”

“The Alley does,” he concedes slowly, “but that doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice yourself for it.”

You’d thought you’d known longing before Jason Todd but watching him now you know with certainty the man wears it better than you ever could. A fitting but unflattering cloak. Effective in hiding against the moon and her subjects alike.

“Neither do you.”

He glances away. You can tell because your breaths get clearer. The rush of being known flushed from your system.

Jason laughs once, more a grunt than anything. “Let’s not get into that.”

“Fine,” you shrug. “I'm just saying though. I don’t have to do everything - and I’m not going to. That self sacrificing shit is your deal not mine - but I’m still a part of this. I’m straight, okay? I don’t need you getting me out.”

“Alright,” he hums and indicates the door with his chin. “Go inside, I'll meet you in a minute.”

You’re tired, you want to be done, so you were moving before he was even mid sentence. You’d come directly from work to the roof so-. Right. The roof. Your bed would have to wait for a couple more minutes.

You stop and turn back to face him. “What about city hall?”

He waves you off with a blithe movement.

“Eh, it’s not so time sensitive we can’t put it off for one day. Now go. I gotta contact my guys, but I’ll cook tonight.”

“Oh will you?” you joke, holding out your arms in surrender and making to back out of the stairway. You’re reaching around to grasp at the handle when he starts forward with a tiny stumble and gets a hold around your waist.

“Hold on. I - ah -” his licks his lips, “I wanna kiss you.”

“Oh,” you giggle, gaze flicking momentarily down to slick lips. “Sure.”

The both of you stall on what to do for a second. His grip is loose and your hands flutter between his face and shoulders - too scared to land and too eager to touch all at once. Eventually though Jason scoffs at himself and gives you an encouraging squeeze that has you melting, and it doesn’t seem all that challenging anymore.

You laugh into the kiss he gives you, settling on having one hand cupping his jaw and the other wrapped around his bicep. The momentum of your lips is smoother this go round. Your teeth still clink together but there’s no awkward stop-start to figure out how to angle your heads or not bump noses.

When you pull apart it’s genuine disappointment that tugs at your chest that you can’t meet his eyes.

“Bye,” he murmurs.

You shake your head. “In a minute...”

The urge for another shorter kiss has you meeting again and Jason’s hands pull you closer like he’s trying to push you into the gaps of his ribcage and his mouth moves against yours with the severity of a promise. This time when you seperate the tug seems harsher. You think he feels it too with the way his breath stutters but he recovers faster. Gets in an extra squeeze at your sides before letting go. You try not to make the disappointment that flares at that noticeable.

“Bye,” you say. It doesn’t matter that he’ll be crawling through your window in less than thirty minutes, you peck him on the lips one more time anyway before dropping your hands and disappearing out into the hall. “And tell Oyoung to give me back my damn mini. I know she took it; how’s she just gonna steal a whole taser like that?”

Jason’s snort at your words follows you into brighter lighting - more reminiscent of the moon’s cool unwavering roundness than the sun's sharp edges - and the short trek back to your apartment feels weightless.

End.NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Alt Paragraph: “Bye,” you say. It doesn’t matter that he’ll be crawling through your window in less than thirty minutes, you peck him on the lips one more time anyway before dropping your hands and disappearing out into the hall. “And tell Oyoung to give me back my damn curl enhancer. I know she took it; how’s she just gonna steal a whole jar?”

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

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