she's got a boyfriend anyway - matty healy
part i - the night's like a whirlwind, somebody's girlfriend
yes u read that right its a series babey!! we love u cheatersss!!
warnings: not technically 18+ but the series will be, cheating, drinking, smoking
You clutch your plastic cup of wine like a lifeline, your pulse thundering in your throat to the beat of the song playing over the speakers. Snatches of indistinct conversation float around you, too intangible to grasp. You can’t hear your footsteps on the kitchen tile — are you even really there? It doesn’t seem like it. You bump into people and they don’t even notice, like you’re a ghost. The relief is palpable on your face when you step out of the crowded, close heat of the house into the cool night air. You slide the glass door shut, muffling the violent bass shaking the building. The cold metal of the chair you sit on bites your thighs, revealed by your too-short dress riding up.
A soft clicking sound accompanied by a brief flash and a frustrated scoff catches your attention and you turn to see a silhouette. His face is shrouded in shadow, the spark of the lighter illuminating him just long enough to catch pretty, almost feminine cheekbones and long, messy curls.
Matty turns to you. “Hey,” he says, lifting his chin at you. “You don’t have a light, do you? This thing’s a piece of shit.” He waves his empty lighter at you and pulls out the chair opposite, taking a seat across from you. Resting his elbows on the table, he props his chin up on his hands coquettishly and looks you up and down.
“Yeah, giz a sec,” you reply. You hate that it’s so awkward between you — you haven’t spoken in months, not since you left for uni, and neither of you reached out when you got back last week. You’ve missed him, and you miss him more acutely now he’s within your grasp and yet still so far. If you reached out, you think he would dissipate, shimmering, like a mirage. The sound of his fingers drumming impatiently on the table makes you remember his request and you wrench your gaze away from his hands, rings sparkling in the low light. You don’t miss the way his eyes latch onto your tits, spilling out of your low-cut dress, as you dig in your bra for your lighter. It’s warm in your hand as you pass it to him, something flickering between you when your skin brushes his.
You’ve always been each other’s forbidden fruit, polarising magnets circling each other for years but never colliding. The time was never right; there was always something in the way — his girlfriend, your studying, the band, work. Then, when you were packing up for uni, you told him it had to be over for good, no more dancing around each other, prodding at boundaries to see if they’ll give. It was easier to tell him over the phone, and you got to hide from the fallout in London for a few months. You even have a boyfriend, a sweet, loving, devoted boyfriend, and you’ve not (okay, barely) thought about Matty since. Until now, and the realisation hits you like a bucket of cold water that it isn’t over, because it never will be.
“Thanks,” he says, low voice muffled by the cigarette and cutting through your thoughts and reminding you with a bump that he’s there, in front of you, close enough to reach out and touch. You have to restrain yourself from brushing a stray curl out of his eyes.
You shrug. “Anytime.” Matty lifts the lighter up, illuminating the soft planes of his face for a second. You watch, fascinated, as he hollows his cheeks, filling his lungs with smoke, the tip of his cigarette glowing orange. Smoke pours from his mouth when he exhales, and a familiar itch buzzes under your skin.
“Giz a cig,” you say, leaning forward and swiping his pack from his front pocket before he can protest. “I’m dying for one.” You pluck a cigarette from the pack and twirl it between your fingers, reaching for your lighter.
Matty snatches it away with a grin. “Cheeky,” he teases. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still a thieving little bitch. Thought London might straighten you out, but no luck.”
You grin, easily slipping back into that oh-so-familiar playful, flirty banter. “In your dreams, Healy,”
“Oh, every night since you left, princess.” His words strike a bolt of sinful lust through your body. You want to crack that pretty head of his open, see exactly what he dreams about, live it through his eyes, feel it through his body.
“Is that so?” you grin, leaning forward, the part of your brain warning you against him growing quieter and quieter with every passing second. Matty nods, inching closer as if entranced by you, that magnetic pull overtaking him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, delicious and red and tempting. While he’s distracted, you make a grab for your lighter, but he’s still faster.
“Not so fast,” he grins, lifting it just out of your reach. “Come here,” he says, returning his cigarette to his mouth and beckoning you. You have to stand just a little for your cigarette to touch his. “Deep breath,” he instructs, as if you don’t know how to light a cigarette. From anyone else, you’d find it horribly patronising. You pull obligingly, though, the embers catching your cigarette alight and flooding your mouth with smoke. It’s intimate, a kiss without touch.
A deep inhale sends the nicotine buzzing through your blood, your head going fuzzy for a second before everything clicks into even sharper focus. “Thanks,” you murmur faintly, dragging on the cigarette again before you trust yourself to speak.
He leans back, eyeing you, scrutinising your guarded expression. “How come you came out here all alone? Bored of your fit friends?”
You squint at him. “They’re your friends too.” Then you shrug, pondering his question. You wonder if, subconsciously, you were looking for him. “Just wanted a fag, didn’t I? Plus it’s loud as fuck in there,”
Matty gives the barest hint of a nod. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it as if thinking better. But, of course, he never thinks better for long. “Not brought your boyfriend, then?” he asks, disparaging tone making no secret of what he thinks of him. They’ve not even met, all he knows is what he’s seen on the Internet and what your friends have told him. But then, he’d find a way to condescend anyone you were dating, even if he were a consecrated saint.
You roll your eyes. He’s such a boy. You can tell he wants you, it’s written all over his face, but he won’t say it. He wants you to be the one to make the leap, he wants you to feed his ego by throwing your morals aside for him, dirty up your hands until the stain of infidelity clings under your nails. “Nah,” you say, leaning back and watching him wait for elaboration you won’t give. “But I can call him.” You pause. A vein jumps in his forehead. “If you want,”
“Go on, then,” he says, smoke billowing around him. He’s calling your bluff, and six months ago he would have been right. But he doesn’t know you inside and out anymore. You’re sharper now, a thing with corners and shadows to hide in, and you don’t make empty threats.
You pick your phone up from where it rests on the table, unlocking it and navigating to your contacts. Your finger hovers over your boyfriend’s name, and you quirk an eyebrow at him, giving him one last chance. Matty doesn’t move, so you pick up the phone and lift it to your ear. It rings once, twice, then his hand shoots out to snatch it from your grasp. He hangs up, stabbing the button violently, then surges forward.
He crashes into your waiting mouth, sending fireworks rocketing through your body. The kiss is intense, years of pent-up want and longing flowing between you. Kissing your boyfriend has never felt like this.
Wait.
Your heart stops and you pull away, flickering your eyes over his wet mouth and heaving chest before forcing yourself to look down at the table. It’ll be easier to force the words out without looking at him. “I…” You swallow thickly. “We can’t. My… I’ve got a—”
He presses two fingers to your lips to shut you up. “Love, I don’t give a fuck about your boyfriend.” Your eyes track him as he walks around the table, coming up behind you and turning you around. He’s so close to you. Danger, your mind screams, vision pulsing red, but your body calls out to him and you press closer. “And I don’t think you do, either.”
Against your better instincts, you kiss him again, burying your hand in his soft curls the way you’ve wanted to for years. Matty grips your waist, nails digging like you’re something precious he’s caught and can’t release. His tongue sweeps your mouth, tasting of cigarettes and orange gin and some underlying taste that’s uniquely Matty, and it’s addictive. You kiss harder, rocking your body against him, open-mouthed whines escaping you. “You’re right,” you admit, his hands on your body making it feel like something sacred, a prayer instead of confession. “I don’t give a fuck about him. Not if I can have you,”
Something that sounds suspiciously like a moan escapes him, and he presses his lips to yours one last time before pulling away with a smug grin. “If you’re throwing him away for a kiss, imagine how much better I fuck.” You still, your body betraying you. He gasps, that infallible smirk stealing back onto his face. “Oh, poor baby. Is that it? Your pretty boyfriend can’t make you come?”
You shudder. How did he know? Encounters flash in your mind, every time he’s rolled off you with a grunt, leaving you with nothing, every time you’ve faked it just to get it over with, and Matty watches your face as if your memories are flickering in your eyes. “...No,” you admit, cheeks heating. He brushes a thumb over your cheek, sparks tracing in his wake.
“I could,” he murmurs, breath warm in the cold night air. “I could make you fall apart with my hands, in my mouth, on my cock. I’d fucking worship that gorgeous body of yours, princess.” You’re panting into his mouth, the mental images so vivid you can practically feel him inside you. “Do you want me to?”
Every nerve in your body screams out for him. The air between you is thick with lust, a plea balanced delicately on the tip of your tongue. “I—” The door clatters open and you bite back a frustrated scream, shoving Matty off you.
“There you are!” gasps the host, a high school friend named Rebecca. Then she catches sight of your compromising position and smirks knowingly. “Well, don’t you look cosy?” You freeze, a dozen explanations springing to your lips, all of them faulty and insufficient. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.” She mimes zipping her lips shut, then darts out of the kitchen and seizes your arm. “Now, come on! We’re doing shots!”
You let her drag you away, as much as you’d rather stay with Matty, because it is her party, after all. Several rounds of shots later, your mind is fuzzy from drink and you’re stumbling around with the singular goal of finding Matty again and finishing what you started. After a few minutes of hunting high and low, someone tells you he’s gone home. You pout; it’s not like him to leave a party so early. Then, someone presses another glass of wine into your hand and drags you off to dance and you forget all about him until you make it home.
You lay in bed, face clean and painkillers dissolving in your belly, and your thoughts turn back to Matty. His warm breath on your face, hands tight around your body, dirty words staining your memories. Closing your eyes and clenching your thighs, you ignore the pang of guilt and let your mind wander to the promises he made, replaying those vivid pictures over and over.
God, you are utterly and completely fucked.
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Premise: Aiden & Hakon got married on impulse around the time of Lawan's Nightrunner initiation. Unfortunately, when making sure Lawan escaped at the end of the game, Hakon took a bad hit to the head and got amnesia :(. Also Hakon whittles, because I decided so.
This is in no way intended to be an accurate depiction of amnesia - it's fanfic babey. Also some of you who are on the discord (iykyk) have seen this before, but like months ago, so apologies for making you see it again.
-
"Hey, Hakon."
Hakon's attention is pulled away from the half-finished carving he'd been studying. He tucks it back in the pouch he'd found it in to greet the Pilgrim hovering in the doorway.
"Hey," he says, hesitating as he tries to place the name. "It's Aiden, right?"
Things have changed in the City, but enough has stayed the same that he's been able to get by for the most part. The main sticking point is the man before him, the newcomer his brain just can't seem to keep a hold of.
Aiden's mouth twitches into a trembling smile, though his eyes remain sad. "Yeah, I'm Aiden. Good job."
From anyone else, Hakon thinks it might feel condescending. There's something so desperately sad about the kid though, that it's impossible for him to take offence. Especially when he knows he might have forgotten the next time they meet.
The silence stretches out between them. Hakon watches Aiden's throat work as he struggles to find the words before he can't take it anymore. If the Pilgrim won't start, maybe Hakon can help him out.
"So what brings you here today?" He winces at the sound of his own voice. It's too loud, too falsely cheerful, and from the way the Pilgrim flinches, he thinks the same.
The Pilgrim (Aiden, Aiden, Hakon reminds himself) chews his lip for a moment. Hakon has a flash of sense memory, chapped lips pressed to his own, to his cheek, but it’s gone before he can truly register it.
He doesn't have a chance to chase the memory either.
"I wanted to return this," Aiden says, his words coming out stilted. Hakon raises an eyebrow, curious, as the Pilgrim pulls a chain from under his shirt. He fiddles with it for a moment, taking something off it before tucking the chain away again.
Their fingers brush as Hakon accepts the item, Aiden flinching away from the contact. Hakon bites back the apology that sits on his tongue, instead looking at whatever the Pilgrim gave him.
It's a ring, an unadorned silver band, a little more scuffed than he last remembers it. Hakon frowns as he turns it over carefully.
"I was going to give this to my next wife," he murmurs, glancing up to catch the Pilgrim's eye.
Hakon watches the sharp bob of the other man's throat as he swallows and gives another shaky smile. A muscle twitches in his cheek before he lets it drop again.
"Yeah," the Pilgrim says, voice cracking. He clears his throat, composing himself. "Yeah, I know. You, um, asked me to hold onto it. For safe keeping."
"Oh." Something about that doesn't sit right with Hakon. He remembers waking up with a ring on his finger, the weight still new but comfortable. Lawan had laughed in Hakon's face when he'd asked if she was his wife. She had promised him that he didn't have any more wives, though she didn't explain why he had put it on in the first place. But here was the Pilgrim, giving him a ring he had assumed lost.
He should know what it means, the answer is on the tip of his tongue but his brain refuses to make the right connections. All the pieces were right there, but for the life of him, he can't seem to put them together. Hakon has improved considerably since he woke up, but that just makes these moments of disconnect even more infuriating.
"Thanks," Hakon says, swallowing his frustration. He turns the ring over again, thumb catching on an unexpected edge on its inner surface. Turning it to face the light, he can see the letters AH crudely scratched into the metal.
"Right, okay then." The Pilgrim coughs sharply, rolling his shoulders to disperse some of the tension there. "I just wanted do to that before... Anyway. I'll leave you to it, I guess."
He hesitates a moment longer, before sighing. "And if you see Lawan," the Pilgrim winces when he says the woman's name, "could you maybe... not mention that you've seen me?"
Hakon blinks in surprise, huffing with amusement. "Managed to piss off our lovely Lawan, eh? Good luck with that, my friend, she's a beast when she's on the warpath."
Aiden laughs (Aiden, Aiden, remember that). "You don't have to tell me that. She packs a mean punch."
A smile lingers on his lips, the first one Hakon has seen on him that doesn't look like it physically pains him. He's surprised by how deeply he wants to be the one to put it there, how much he wants to see that smile, hear that laugh every day.
(A few more pieces slot into the puzzle in his mind.)
Aiden shakes his head, and the smile slips away. "I'd better get going," he says. He turns to the door, glancing back at Hakon over his shoulder. His eyes look suspiciously wet before he turns away again. "You look after yourself, okay?"
Hakon tips his head in a tiny nod. "You too, Pilgrim. I'll see you around."
"Sure," he agrees, voice hoarse. "Bye Hakon."
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I imagine they would dance v energetically & they’d both be having the time of their lives ♥️
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Remus Lupin dating a hufflepuff would include...
Remus lupin x hufflepuff!reader, the marauders x platonic reader
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: no smut but talk of sexy times (sfw)
A/N: I'm back, babey! Recently took a smol hiatus but I'm back and better than ever. Here are some headcanons of what life would be like dating young Remus Lupin as a hufflepuff; I might do something similar with the different houses and the other marauders, but idk yet. As per usual, if you want a request then by all means shoot me a message! I write for the umbrella academy, marvel and Harry Potter so feel free to request anything :)) - Aphrodite
(Also I'm sorry I didn't spell check this, please forgive me)
• Every moment between you two was adorable!
• Being the semi-traditionalists that you were, it was a mutual agreement to take things slow and steady. But Remus was so infatuated with you - and you with him - that neither could deny the ever growing spark you shared.
• He'd always invite you on study dates in the library every Saturday, but most of the time it was just an excuse to see more of you.
• You'd always bring along a snack from the kitchens to the library, a different pastry or bake every week.
• "Guess who brought muffins!!!"
• When you aren't looking, he likes to leave cute messages on post it notes and hide them in your bag or throughout your books.
• "The only thing sweeter than those muffins is you, my love"
• You totally know when he does it, you've caught him a few times.
• However, you like to return the favour.
• "Maybe next time we 'study', you can let me Slytherin to your arms for cuddles"
• He loves the puns you make. Despite always being followed by an eye roll, he really does love them.
• He keeps all his notes from you in his bedside table and will read them after a particularly rough full moon 🥺
• Obviously, Remus was terrified to tell you his secret, but it went less dramatically than he thought it would.
• When you acted so truly selfless and reassured him that you'd be there for him no matter what, it really made him tear up. You promised to always be there after every full moon.
• You two can always be found cuddling in the gryffindor dormitories, 24/7.
• When you have a free period or a day free from studying, Remus will sneak you past the common room and into the dorms, where you'll just lay in his bed. All day.
• He's definitely the big spoon, he loves to hold you as tight as he can. But sometimes you'll lay your head on his chest, facing the ceiling, and he'll run his fingers through your hair.
• The boy is a human radiator, so you could practically hug him and his warmth all day long.
• One time you slept over with the rest of the marauders, and upon waking up, realised you had started your period. On Remus's sheets.
• "Hey, it's alright. I know this stuff happens, let's get you cleaned up."
• He was so mature about it all that you probably fell in love there and then.
• While you had a shower and changed the sheets, he went to Hogsmeade with James to get you some pads and snacks.
• Not needing a heating pad because he's just so damn warm gosh darn it
• While you and Remus were growing closer, you had an unexpected friendship with Sirius.
• I say unexpected, as when you first met you were positive he'd be trouble.
• "Moony, you never told me you were dating a hufflepuff! What a cute little cupcake she is." (Delivered with a wink)
• Let's just say, you may or may not have threatened to "shave off your pretty little locks if you call me a cupcake again."
• Although, this rivalry soon turned into friendship when you realised your senses of humour were identical.
• When Remus is busy and can't hang out with you, Sirius will take you to hogsmeade or play a game of chess to pass the time.
• Funnily enough, Sirius became oddly protective of you, letting Remus know that if he ever hurt you he'd be dead.
• Remus was always calling you a cute name, despite the circumstance.
• His favourite things to call you were babe, sweetheart, love, and snickerdoodle.
• You just stuck with calling him Remy, Moony, or honey (he'd never admit it, but he loves when you call him 'honeybuns')
• Remus is smart, and so are you. But when you're together, you share half a braincell.
• He's literally such a dumbass.
• "Babe, do you think toads can sense fear?"
• Cue you looking into the camera like Jim in the office.
• Whenever somebody tries to make any comments about Remus being a werewolf you are the first person to defend him.
• Nobody was afraid of you lashing out because you're "just a harmless hufflepuff". Their opinions changed when you punched a Slytherin prefect in the face for calling Remus a monster.
• At night, you'll both sneak out of the common rooms and meet in the kitchens for midnight snacks.
• You making some tea, and him eating some chocolate while talking to the house elves.
• You were always the best in your year at herbology, Remus however didn't stand a chance. He wasn't terrible at it, but certainly needed your help during lessons.
• "Y/n...what in God's name is that!?"
"...babe that's a celery."
• The summer between fourth and fifth year, he had the worlds biggest growth spurt.
• He was a little bit taller than you before, but when you returned to school for fifth year, he towered over you like a half-giant.
• This means that you could steal his fuzzy jumpers with them falling down to your knees.
• Sleepovers at the gryffindor dorms were a common occasion, but sometimes Remus would come to your common room late at night to have a dance party.
• Quietly playing the mixtape he made for you while you both danced around the area.
• You both had your first kiss towards the middle of fifth year, almost a year and a half after you first started dating.
• Remus came top of the class on an important DADA test. When he told you, you instinctively kissed him.
• You pulled away almost straight after, apologising for not asking for consent. Before you could say another word, he pulled you closer to him and placed another kiss on your lips, running a hand through the back of you hair.
• When you broke apart, you rested your forehead in the crook of his neck as he whispered in your ear.
• "I love you, y/n."
"I love you more, Remus."
• He wasn't really a big fan of PDA, but would happily do whatever you wanted.
• When the marauders were planning a prank, Remus made sure you were as far away from the action as possible.
• "What if we get y/n to be the bait? She could get-"
"James, there is no way y/n is going to jump into the great lake with weights ties to her ankles."
• You both did it for the first time near Christmas of sixth year.
• Peter was long gone home. James and Sirius had both left that morning to go back to the Potter's, offering you both a place to stay for the holidays. However, you were both happy to get some alone time.
• In the evening, he lit candles in the dorm and did cute stuff like that.
• He was so so nervous, but was still a gentlemen through and through, always asking if you're comfortable and making sure what he's doing is okay.
• It was really sweet, and both of you were really happy afterwards.
• Sometimes you'd share a bath with him in the prefects bathroom. The rest of the marauders always joked about how there'd be a bit more than bathing involved, but they were wrong.
• When you would share a bath, Remus would bring a book and read to you, doing silly voices for each of the characters just to see you smile. Neither of you ever did the Devil's Tango in the prefects bath, as it was always just for a nice relax.
• Speaking of books, Remus was always reading one. Sometimes you'd cuddle up next to him while he read, and he'd quietly read each line.
• Sometimes you'd do the same, reciting small poems from muggle books.
• He never told you, but after you had your first kiss his boggart changed. It changed from the moon to himself as a werewolf, holding your dead body.
• Gruesome, he knew, but it was significant to him.
• Along with his boggart changing, your patronus changed. In your third year you learned how to conjure a patronus, and yours was a porcupine. Yet in your sixth year, you discovered it to be a werewolf.
• Remus full on cried happy tears when he found out.
• After the worst full moon yet, Remus ended up in the hospital wing for 5 days. He was found unconscious, and woke up 2 days later to see you and Madam Pomfrey by his side.
• You took notes for him in class, brought him a few new books and bars of chocolate, and spent every free moment in the hospital wing with him.
• He had three long slashes across his face when you found him in the shrieking shack, yet he looked so calmly asleep.
• "When you told me you wanted to start having lie-ins, I didn't think you'd sleep for two days straight."
• You were the first person he wanted to see after such a terrible night, and despite your jokes, he was so grateful to have you next to him.
• "I hope you're not going to break up with me now that I'm ugly."
"You? Ugly? How could you ever think such a thing?"
• On valentines day, he enlisted the help of the marauders to make things perfect.
• After a date at Madam Puddifoots, you returned to Remus's dorm to a beautiful view.
• Fairy lights were strung along the bed frames, rose petals in a trail along the floor, your favourite scented candles burning on the bedside tables, and a teddy bear bigger than your entire body sat on Remus's bed.
• Turning around to face your boyfriend, you saw that he held 3 boxes wrapped in red paper.
• "Happy valentines day, m'love"
• Placing the gifts on the bed closest to him, he picked you up and wrapped you in a bear hug.
• You crocheted him a jumper in his house colours and got him a leather bound copy of his favourite book.
• He made you a bar of chocolate with your favourite flavours, bought you a chunky cardigan that he knew you wanted, and placed a painted, small wooden box in your hands.
• "Open the box, love." He stated with a smile. He seemed a little nervous, but eased up as he saw you smile.
• Inside the box was two aeroplane tickets to Paris.
• "It's not much, but I was wondering if you'd come with me this summer?"
• This was followed by a lot of happy screams, to say the least.
• When quidditch season came around, you both loved to support the other's house.
• You'd sport Remus's red and yellow jumpers when gryffindor was playing, and he would go all out with yellow and black spirit when it was a hufflepuff match.
• However, when it was hufflepuff against gryffindor things got way too competitive.
• You didn't speak to Remus for a week after gryffindor won.
• "Come on babe, just talk to me! I didn't mean it when I said that hufflepuffs are as good at quidditch as they are at their owls!"
• Professor Mcgonagall didn't really know much about you, being from a different house and all, but she saw how much Remus changed being with you.
• He seemed really well taken care of, and for once he was unconditionally happy.
• After dinner one night, Mcgonagall asked to see you in her office.
• "I just wanted to say thank you for taking such good care of Mr Lupin. It may be unprofessional for me to see him as a son, but I do, and I'm grateful that he has someone like you to support him."
• From that moment forward, she saw you as a daughter, and invited you to have tea with her every week.
• You didn't know it, but every full moon she'd add 50 points to hufflepuff, she could never thank you enough for looking after Remus.
• After you both graduated, you almost immediately moved in with each other.
• With the help of James and Lily, you bought a small cottage a few hours away from hogwarts.
• Every other wednesday, Sirius and Lily come around for a girls night while Remus and James catch up.
• A few months after you moved in together, Remus realised what he wanted, and for once he wasn't afraid to ask for it.
• It was a beautiful Saturday evening, the sky was purple from the sunset. Both of you were sat on the porch swing in your back garden, surrounded by magical plants and flowers, when he got down on one knee.
• "Y/n y/l/n, I've loved you since the day we met. I couldn't wish for anyone better than you, and it would be my dream to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
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five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven
summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.
warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!
masterlist and parts one | two | three | four | five | six
i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’
“Well, it is a flattering picture.”
You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…
The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.
“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.
“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”
George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.
“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”
“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.
“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.
You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????
Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”
Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”
“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.
“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.
“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”
He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.
“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”
“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.
Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...
“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”
“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.
Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.
“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”
“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”
At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”
“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.
“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”
Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.
“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”
George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”
“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.
“You tell ‘em, babe.”
The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.
“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.
For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.
“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.
“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”
“Same.”
“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.
“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.
“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”
He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.
After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?
Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…
And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.
“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”
You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”
John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”
“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”
“Professor Pang fucked me.”
“WHAT—”
“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”
“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.
“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”
“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”
“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”
“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”
“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.
You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.
***
Your second exam the next day goes miserably.
Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.
Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.
You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.
That all goes away when you open the door.
John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—
“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”
—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.
“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.
“What are you two doing?”
“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.
“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”
You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…
“Where’s George?”
This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.
“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,
“He went to visit his mum!”
Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”
You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.
“Yup,” John says.
“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”
“Yuuup.”
You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”
“Yuuuuuuuuu—”
“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.
“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.
You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.
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Matchup!
Commissioned by @poweranon thank you so much luv, I hope you enjoy <33
~Requests are closed~
Masterlist: x
I match you with: Homicidal Lui
It’s no secret homeboy’s an absolute sweetheart
Or at least, half of him is skdjdhskl
And around someone he loves?
Whew boy, this mans will treat you right 😤👌
You’re quick to catch his attention from the beginning ngl
Because, not only are you pretty out there, but he also thinks you’re stunning
Your long & wavy hair, your cute facial features, your sense of style—hell, even just the shape of you & how you’re the cutest height has his heart throbbing in his stitched-up chest :”)
Boy’s not necessarily shy, but he is a bit of wallflower
So he’s absolutely elated when you come up and talk to him cause he’s not used to being seen like that, y’know?
And when he gets to know you, he sees how friendly & patient & kind & forgiving you are and he’s just?? Already madly in love????
Despite being a wallflower, he‘s been in a good amount of relationships before the whole incident
So he does know what it takes to woo someone, and he isn’t shy when it comes to romantic interests and dates and such uwu
Btw this mans? A total hopeless romantic
The first date, he brings you flowers, offers up his scarf if you’re cold, opens every door for you—the whole shebang
He’s super caring & considerate & kind—an absolute sweetheart ngl <3
You can tell he clearly likes you, and he’s pretty serious about wanting a good relationship with you
The only obstacle that comes in your way is, well, Sully
Lui warns you as soon as he can about his other... less pleasant side, and he tries to reassure you beforehand in case Sully does or says something that might hurt or upset you
And the first few times you do meet Sully, things ends up... actually not too bad, all things considered
Sully’s mad protective of Lui, in his own way, so he ends up grilling you a bit and testing your patience & boundaries to see if you’re a good fit for him
He knows you mean a lot to Lui though, and he doesn’t wanna ruin what the two of you have, so he doesn’t take anything to the extreme
He just kinda acts like an annoying shit, but hey, it’s nothing you can’t handle ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Homeboy’s mad relieved things went well after you meet his other half skdjskdjls
And after a while of seeing you & getting used to you, you and Sully actually end up getting along really well?
Like,, y’all just vibe
It’s almost surprising to see Sully develop deeper feelings for someone like he does with you
You end up being his sort of partner in crime, where y’all do a bunch of dumb & impulsive stuff and it’s way too much fun
It also tends to be a lil dangerous too skdjdhsl
But there’s no actual threat becuz Sully would never let you get hurt—he‘s just as protective of you as he is of Lui uwu
And every time Lui finds out what the two of you did—whether by remembering himself, you telling him, or just seeing some kind of mess y’all left behind, he gets worried
He tries to strongly urge you not to do anything like that again, but he knows you’re impulsive and you are safe with Sully, so he Pretends He Does Not See
He’s just a concerned bf, what can I say?
Both appreciate your ride-or-die kinda loyalty so 👏damn 👏much 👏 you have no idea
Lui because it reassures him that no matter how fucked up he might be, he knows you’ll stay by his side
His only concern is that he might end up being toxic for you, especially if you can’t cut him off if it does reach that point, but that only motivates him so much more to treat you right
And Sully appreciates it cause he knows you’re the real deal, babey ;)
He doesn’t want you leaving Lui or him and hurting him, so he’s damn happy you’re the type to stick around :>
And both boys are also definitely hardcore ride-or-dies as well, so y’all make quite the team 👀
Despite that, no one’s perfect, and no relationship is either, so you do have your fights
Mostly with Sully, who sometimes doesn’t know any better & takes things too far
But point is, they’ve seen you get mad, and they’ve regretted it BIG TIME
Sully actually ended up apologizing once—a no bullshit I-know-I-was-wrong-and-I’m-sorry apology—which is saying A LOT
Because that boy? Never once in his life admitted he was wrong
And he did it for you, completely acknowledging what he did and that he hurt you and everything??
Even Lui, to this day, is a lil Shook tbh
Other than that, no matter how optimistic Lui tries to be, he can & does get discouraged just with how life is & everything that’s happened to him
So honestly, you always believing there’s good in the world, and especially good in him, really just makes him unspeakably happy
He‘s super humble he has the privilege of calling you his <33
You bring so much joy & positivity & excitement to his life—he doesn’t know what he’d do without you :”)
Sully doesn’t really care much for that hopeful mushy-gushy stuff, as he calls it, but it goes without saying that he really loves you too
Even if he sometimes doesn’t wanna admit it when he’s being a lil shit smdh
And he especially adores how you aren’t afraid to be who you are, even if you are contradictory uwu
He likes that depth & complexity; loves himself a lady who can see broader perspectives and consider both sides of the same coin 😏👌
Honestly, this boy (these boys??) really love you so damn much, it’s insane
They never thought they’d be able to trust & love again like they do for you
There’s no pressure to always crack jokes around them either, because they’re more than happy to just kick back & relax with you in their arms for some nice peace & quiet 😌👌
And they certainly don’t want you feeling like you need to keep up a facade around them—they just want you to be happy & safe & comfortable with them :”)
They’ll do their best to encourage you when it comes to your studies
But if you don’t wanna keep pursuing that field of education, they’ll gladly offer up their help to get you on a path you’ll be content with
Money,, kind of isn’t an issue when you’re with them 👀
Sully steals from his victims skdhlsl
Last but not least, Lui likes texting to keep up with the people he cares for
Which is understandable because, let’s be real, boy’s paranoid something bad’s gonna happen since that is a recurring theme in his life :/
So he will text you a lot and he’ll be over the moon if you text back
He’ll get worried if you don’t, but he also knows you’re kinda bad at it & it’s not your fault & you’re prolly fine
You might have to reassure him that you’re not getting randomly stabbed and you can take care of yourself every now & then
But even then, he might just like,,, secretly check up on you without your knowledge to reassure himself that you are safe skdjdjsk
Boy just doesn’t wanna lose the light of his life, yknow?
Like I said, a very loving & concerned bf uwu
NSFW
Alright so Lui is very much so also a switch
And if you wanna take charge in the bedroom, that’s more than fine by him 😏👌
He looks sO damn fine all tied up, whining and trying to buck up into your hands if you wanna tease him a lil 👀
He’s also a bit of a masochist, so feel more than free to pull his hair, bite him & smack him around a bit 👅💦
If you mark him up, he’ll go feral
You can get as rough or as slow & teasing as you like—baby boy can take it all~ 😏🤤
All he asks is that you cuddle up with him afterwards and tell him he did a good job & that you love him while playing with his hair or gently kissing his forehead :3:
This mans loves dat soft aftercare so damn much 💕
If you let him take control, he’ll be more on the sweet & intimate side
The chances of him getting rough are slim to none—like he doesn’t really wanna mark you up or anything because he’s scared of hurting you :<
He’d rather leave feather light touches over your skin, worshiping your body and praising every inch of you instead uwu
Don’t get me wrong though, he’s still perfectly fine with getting a lil kinky ;)
He’s more than willing to tie you up and trying new toys & positions, but his hard limits involve anything that might hurt or degrade you
Sully, on the other hand, is almost the polar opposite
He loves having control and has absolutely no issue getting rough & leaving plenty of marks
If you wanna dom Sully, you might have to work for it a lil 😏😉
He’s not opposed to being submissive, he just tends to naturally dom more—and even when he is submissive, he’s a huge brat
You can slap him around as much as you like & tease him to death, but he’ll still lie there, panting and clearly very much so needy, asking if that’s all you got~
And he won’t admit it but he also enjoys some affectionate aftercare too uwu
Since Lui knows his other half tends to get sadistic, he’ll make sure you have at least one (1) safeword
And he’ll make sure Sully knows what it is & respects it
Sully wouldn’t cross boundaries on purpose, but Lui’s just a bit wary of his other half sometimes
Which is understandable honestly 👁👄👁
When he notices the marks his other half left, Lui won’t be able to help but feel guilty
He knows he didn’t technically do it, but in a way, it still is him
And he knows Sully wouldn’t take things too far, what with the safeword and all, so it definitely is consensual, but still, boy will just feel Bad™️
So he’ll be extra loving & caring the next time y’all do the do
And he’ll kiss over the bites and scratches, murmuring how beautiful you are and how much he loves you while slowly stroking your skin, his hips evenly rolling against yours, hitting your pelvis with every slow, soft thrust~
He’s totally the type to set a romantic mood, too
Rose petals, soft lighting and smooth background music are a regular occurrence tbh
Boy just wants to show you how much he loves & appreciates you <33
Also, Lui tends to enjoy your cottage core fem style while Sully digs the aggressive butch style
So if ya wanna get them riled up a lil, you can just dress the part and hint at sex the slightest bit—rubbing up against them or grinding yourself onto their lap when they’re holding you—and they’ll almost immediately pop one
They’re too easy to tease~
Sully will flat out deny how easily you get him riled up, but he won’t release his hold on your hips, keeping you pressed against the very evident bulge in his pants 🥴👌
While Lui will just get flustered before wrapping his arms around you and evenly trying to rock back up into you while quietly moaning & gasping against your neck 🤤
At the end of the day, both boys just wanna make you feel good~
They’re more than happy to go down on you whenever you need it—your wish is their command~ 💋✨
Besides Lui’s hard limits, both are down for pretty much anything & will gladly experiment with different things if you wanna spice things up a bit 👅💦
But chances are, things are already spicy enough as is because, after all, it does takes quite a lot to satiate two people in the same body 😉💋
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oh my god guys.... we did it.
1000 followers babey!! I decided to write a fanfiction to celebrate. its going to be linked below but also pasted, and until i work out how to do that cut thing, its gonna be a pretty long post. sorry about that. You can read it on this link though!
Merlin sits on the lake for the last time.
‘I love you,’ he says, almost offhandedly, like he has done every year since the First World War, when the sounds of pain and suffering were getting too much, when he realised that Arthur wasn’t coming back. When he had realised that Kilgharrah had lied.
He said a lot of things then, too.
A lot of things have happened since then. Yet here he is.
Merlin caresses the surface of the water with one finger, watching it swirl around with his light touch. He’s noticed over the years that his longing for Arthur recedes the closer he is to the lake; a sort of numbing to the agony that never improves, even with age and distraction. Merlin welcomes it, rolling up his pant legs and swinging his legs over the side of the dock where he’s sitting. Feeling the cold water of Avalon wrap around his feet and making him feel something other than the fact that Arthur is mere metres under the ground in the Lady of the Lake’s grasp, and has always been just out of reach.
“This is the last time you’ll be seeing me, old friend,” Merlin breathes, looking down at the reflection in the water longingly. “Don’t worry about me, though. I’m sure I’ll join you soon enough.”
The water doesn’t reply.
“I’ll miss you, Arthur, like always,” Merlin continues, “But maybe I’ll find other things to miss. Ripped jeans. iPods. Who knows? This world always spins too fast for its own good.”
And so Merlin stands up, shaking the lake water off his legs, and wipes away a stray tear that’s escaped from his brimming eyes. Goodbye, Arthur. He voices the sentiment aloud, back turned to the lake at last.
“Not a chance, you idiot.”
Wild-eyed, Merlin spins, and there he is, standing at the end of the dock. Just a few feet away.
There Arthur is, standing there dripping wet with seaweed in his hair, and he looks so real and exactly how he looked all that time ago in Camelot.
Merlin just stands there for a moment, forgetting how to breathe.
“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur says with the haughtiness that he’s always possessed, and Merlin chokes on tears.
Then he runs to Arthur, almost slipping on the wet planks. He grabs onto Arthur's rusted chain mail with both hands, tackling him, and the momentum carries them both off the wooden dock and into the icy waters below.
They sink for a moment, locked in a tight embrace. Then Merlin remembers where they are and kicks up, gasping for air. He tugs Arthur up to the surface with him, and there Arthur is in his arms again.
“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur says after coughing up some lake water, smiling that stupid smug grin. Merlin sobs once more, an ugly wretched sound, and smashes their mouths together.
Arthur sighs and pulls Merlin closer into a tight embrace, and now with no one to keep them upright they start sinking.
It’s okay, though, because Merlin’s got Arthur and he’s never letting him go.
Fast forward now— to them crawling onto the beach and collapsing on the rocks. Merlin can’t take his eyes off Arthur and his blue eyes, strong shoulders, all here on land. He swallows, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Arthur laughs, a joyful, imperative sound, and Merlin feels like throwing up.
It’s like
“Hey,” Arthur says gently. “Merlin. C’mere.”
Merlin wants to tell Arthur everything he’s missed. He wants to scream and dive back into the icy lake, down to the realm where Arthur was kept from him and demand an answer to the question he’s been asking for centuries; why wait this long?
But eventually Merlin just nods and lets Arthur hold him close. He lays his head on Arthur’s chest and listens to Arthur’s heart beating, the way it had all those years ago.
“Why did you say that?” Arthur murmurs after a while.
Merlin sits up, cupping Arthur’s face in his hands. Just because he can. Just so he can feel that cool skin against his palm again. “Why did you say goodbye?”
Merlin swallows. “Is that why you came back? Because I was leaving?”
“I thought you were going to kill yourself, Merlin,” Arthur chokes. “Isn’t that what you meant?”
“I was just going to leave England, Arthur,” Merlins says gently. “I’ve never left, in fear of you coming back and being all alone, but this century I kind of gave up.”
“How long has it been?”
“Arthur, I-”
“How long has it been, Merlin?” Arthur says impatiently.
“It’s been thousands of years, Arthur,” Merlin whispers.
Arthur sighs. “I thought as much. I’ve heard you, you know. Little snippets of stories throughout the years. I’ve known that the world has been changing.”
Merlin doesn’t know what to say.
“I shouldn’t have come back,” Arthur says suddenly. “You were just about to move on, about to live out your life without me; I’ve ruined it.”
Arthur almost sounds like a child, petulant and sullen, and Merlin starts to cry. “Arthur, you coming back is… the best thing that’s ever happened. Please don’t go back there, I couldn’t bear it.”
Arthur wraps his arms around Merlin’s waist and holds him for a while. Merlin can’t stop crying, from shock and relief and exhaustion. It’s all catching up to him now, the time spent from Arthur.
“How did you survive, Merlin?” Arthur says softly. “It’s been so long.”
Merlin sniffles. “I don’t feel like talking about it at the moment. Later. Later I’ll tell you,” he promises.
It’s getting cold now; the sun is beginning to set. Merlin doesn’t feel it, but he knows that Arthur would in that chainmail of his. “Want to come home?” He asks.
Arthur smiles. “I would love to find out what small hole you’ve dug for yourself,” he teases. “Do they still have peasants, Merlin? I bet you’re one of them with those holes you have in your jeans.”
“It’s called fashion, Barbara, look it up,” Merlin retorts, feeling a light buzz in his chest at the banter that they’ve already fallen into. He stands up, brushing off his soaking jeans and offering Arthur a hand.
“What did you just call me? Barbara?” Arthur mumbles, but doesn’t get a reply. They make their way across the grass and into the city.
Merlin’s managed to get Arthur into his apartment somehow; he’s been reminded in the past ten minutes how much the world has changed since Arthur’s been gone (he refuses to ever say die, it’s too finite), but also how much it’s stayed the same.
“Look, here’s the bath, see?” Merlin says cheerfully as he peels off a dazed Arthur’s sopping wet clothing in the bathroom of his apartment.
Arthur’s doing great really. He got a little frightened of the cars, almost drawing out Excalibur before forgetting that it was still in the lake, but the tall buildings didn’t seem to phase him too much. Neither did the elevator. Merlin’s proud of him through the shocked haziness that’s been fogging up his mind.
Merlin turns off the water when it gets to an appropriate height, then helps Arthur get in. Then he peels off his own clothing and clambers into his bath without thinking about it too much, then turns red, not wanting to assume, or impose. He doesn’t have to worry, though, because Arthur crinkles his eyes up in a cute fashion and grasps Merlin’s hands in his. The warm water seeps into Merlin’s skin and into his heart.
“I love you, Merlin,” Arthur says suddenly, without warning. Merlin laughs, a happy, bubbly feeling rising up inside him like champagne, and brings their intertwined hands up to his reddening chest.
They’re sitting closer now. “You haven’t changed one bit, you know that?” Arthur asks.
“You haven’t either,” Merlin whispers, realising how close Arthur’s golden face has gotten.
Arthur ignores him in a very Arthur fashion. “Your eyes are still so dark,” he breathes with an air of arrogance, like he’s studying something on the wall. “And your hair is still so messy. Why is it always so messy?”
Merlin fights down the urge to reach up and fix it, because he’d have to let go of Arthur’s hands that are rubbing calming circles on his skin. “Is that a problem for you, Arthur?”
“No,” Arthur says seriously. “The problem is that I find it endearing.”
Merlin laughs, turning even redder with the steam rising up from the water, and Arthur leans in to kiss him.
Everything makes sense now, as Arthur untangles their hands and reaches up to wet Merlin’s hair with his fingers. It’s all coming together for the first time in centuries. He suddenly realises that he would do it all again, wait all these years one hundred times over, to kiss Arthur. He tilts his head to the side and lets Arthur kiss him until the water gets cold.
Later, when Arthur’s dressed in Merlin’s sweatpants and they’re lying in Merlin’s bed, Arthur asks a very important question.
“What do we do now?”
Merlin sighs out a long breath. “We sort things out, I suppose. There’s so much you need to learn about what you’ve missed; we can go travelling. I’ve always wanted to go travelling.”
Arthur smiles. “That sounds good. You teaching me things. That should be interesting.”
Merlin laughs, shoving him a little.
But Arthur frowns again. “What about us? We can’t just say warm fuzzy things to each other forever, you’ll get bored of me. It’s also very improper.”
“I’ll never get bored of you, Arthur,” Merlin breathes, chest tight. “I waited this long, didn’t I?”
Arthur just stares at him then, deep in thought, then pulls him into a long kiss.
When they pull back, Merlin also adds, “And it’s okay to be gay now, okay? No one cares about blokes kissing blokes. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Really?” Arthur laughs, scratching his head. “That’s weird.”
Merlin smiles, then pulls Arthur close again, suddenly not bearing to not be touching completely. Arthur rests his chin on Merlin’s hair and hugs Merlin back gently.
“I love you,” Merlin whispers into Arthur’s bare chest.
Arthur pulls Merlin closer. “I know, clotpole.”
“Hey, that’s my word.”
Then Merlin starts laughing, a strange mixture of relief and joy. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that.”
Arthur kisses the top of Merlin’s head. “I suppose we’ll be alright then.”
“Yeah, Arthur. We’ll be all right.”
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HiGH
13 reasons why
Scott Reed x female! reader
Warning: getting high, vomiting, cursing, partying
Specifics: comedy, fluff, one-shot, race neutral reader
People: scott reed, jock dude, your friend, red haired cheerleader
Words: 1,854
Requested: By anon 😍😁 I'd love a Scott Reed one with fem reader. Since its getting close to Halloween how about how they got/ get together at a Halloween party?
Authors Note: sorry guys for not posting a lot here ive been studying for exams and just my life is so complicated atm so forgive me i know i should post more its just all the stress ya girl sometimes gets writers block. i appreciate u guys still sticking w me reading my stuff and im glad to be posting something and feel good about it.
The different array of colored lights shone brightly as a hit pop song blasted loud through the speakers. The party everyone at school was looking forward to. Only the best out of the best was present, stuffing their faces with alcohol and booze to wash down the pain and stresses of school and life.
You were content with staying home, wanting to open a bag of chips and really experience Netflix and chill. Solo. Alone. By yourself. A lone wolf. Why in the world were you really here at this party? You were a nobody compared to all these wannabes.
You were fidgety, playing with your fingers to control your anxiety of all these people and the atmosphere. It was so unlike you. Then you remembered. The only reason you were here was because your friend - not really - needed to trade with you the history paper you lent her. She was very persistent to get you to come to her rather than drive her car to your house. You were a very simple girl, you hated teenagers - even though you are one of them - and high school. But why did you dress your best to come to something you cared so little about? You had spent a little more over ten minutes just to pick your shoes! Did this gathering really matter to you?
“Okay y/n you’re gonna go in there and swipe that paper out of her hands and go straight back home. You’re not going to look at the food, not going to be deceived into drinking and you are certainly not going to look at a boy and dance with them because you are better than that,” you spoke aloud to yourself walking up the stairs to the house, getting some cat calls and whistles sent your way. Opening the door you were greeted by a shirtless jock. He dripped with sweat or was that beer? He was dancing as if he was experiencing a seizure.
“Remember what you gotta do, y/n,” that phrase echoed in your head. You crawled past the dancing, then squeezed past the horny animals making out by the bathrooms. “Where the f*ck is she?” Your head whipped back and forth in search for your “friend.” You landed on her doing a chug contest. “Excuse me,” you would say periodically, shoving yourself beside hollering people. You stood beside her and tapped her on the shoulder. She didn’t want to mess with her chugging so she pointed on the table by the drinks. “Thanks.” The table was littered with people f*cking like they were experiencing sex for the first time. Moaning and groaning really wanting nerdy, single people - like yourself - feel very alone and really praying they would get that action tonight. You grabbed your paper having to really pull as there was an a*s cheek of a red haired cheerleader plopped on top of it. You grimaced as you pulled the paper, making note to wash your hands when you have the chance.
“Now time to go home,” your determined self wiped your jacket getting ready to depart but your e/c eyes caught sight of a delicious looking drink. It was aqua blue with chunks of who knows what fruit in there. It was placed proudly on top of the kitchen counter.
“Wipe out!” The jock screamed on the top of his lungs, sounding like an alarm.
You covered your ears, annoyed. A group of teens took their cups and splashed some of the drink inside, enjoying the taste. “Why’s its called wipe out?” You asked the jock. Curious.
The jock raised his brow, taking you in.
“Pitiful,” you thought.
“Its because, babe, there is a secret ingredient in here.” He motioned to you.
Placing your palm on his chest you pushed him away, “I swear if its your jizz, count me out.”
“Its not, unfortunately, but just try it.”
You looked down and bit your lip. You were having a full out debate in your head, going back and forth with yourself. You had to do this paper. The party side took control of you and you snatched a cup from the table and poured yourself some “Wipe out.” You were totally going to regret this later.
A boy stood beside you, filling his cup as well. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, he was a cutie. From the way his f-boy, blond hairstyle stood still with either hairspray or gel or who knows what, to his baby blue eyes. Your eyes traveled to his lips. He saw you staring and presented you with a smirk. A sexy smirk at that. You almost fainted!
“This is bad,” your eyes widened as you felt light headed. You knew you could only keep away for so long.
“Hey, I know you. You are in my bio class. You always sit up front.” No way this boy was Scott Reed. He was the talk of the school, having to be entwined with the drama of Bryce. “I’m-”
“Scott Reed. I know and I’ve seen you in class.”
“And your name is,” he pondered for a moment. “Y/n l/n.”
Oh dear. You were starting to sweat from the realization that you and Scott were on a knowing name base. That was enough to start something. Something you didn’t want to start because you didn’t know if you could finish it.
“Wow didn’t think you were into this party life.”
“I’m not,” you took a large chug of your drink and Scott’s face looked disgusted. “What?”
“You’re not supposed to drink it that fast or all of that, for that matter. Okay you may experience being very...high.”
“High?” Yep it was truly a mistake for you step foot into this party. “There were drugs in that drink?”
“...yeah?”
“Scott!”
“Okay yes there was. I think only a little. Also alcohol, of course. It may not effect you though. Each person is different.”
You were feeling already dizzy. The world spinning but in a good way. As if you were on a ride. You were overwhelmed with the feeling of happiness and you were very, terribly hungry. The overpowering, booming music was low and muffled when it traveled through your ears. You were stoned and you wanted to dance. “DaNcE wHiP mE bAbEy.” You staggered back and forth.
“You sure?” Scott asked, holding onto your arm.
“Of CoUrSsSsSsSsSsSsSsE sCoTtY mCsNoTtY. GrInD wIf mEh.”
“Alright, if you say so.” Scott and you danced in the living room.
With the shake of your hips and the pumping of your fists you felt like you were on cloud 9.
There was a sea of fans, cheering your name. “Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!”
You performed on stage. Basking in the limelight, the attention. You were a star, a performer. You sang and danced on stage with your backup dancers giving it their all. Everyone in the crowd sang along with you, knowing every word. It was perfection.
Then you threw up and blacked out.
The pounding of your head woke you up, your eyes getting adjusted to new lighting. An unfamiliar jacket was on you and you heard the engine of a car. We’re you being kidnapped? You shot up and saw Scott - the boy from earlier - sitting beside you in his car.
“You are not used to drugs,” he chuckled.
“What happened?” You laid back calm. You touched your head thinking that was going to stop the pain.
“You threw up. All over me.”
Eyes widening in horror having the knowledge that you threw up all over the cutest boy in school. That party was cursed. You covered your mouth seeing the stain on his shirt, “I am so sorry Scott. Lets go to Walmart right now, I’ll buy you a new shirt.”
Scott touched your hand to calm you down, “its fine y/n, really. How are you though?”
“Well, lets just say I’m never doing drugs,” you sighed. “I feel really bad for doing that to your shirt. I bet you wish you never met me.”
“I would never wish that. We all make mistakes and to be honest you are the good one out of all of us. Don’t worry about this. You live and learn.” Scott drove to a drug store. “Wait here.”
Waiting for what felt like hours you imagined Scott as your knight in shining armor. You were hating yourself for feeling this way about some boy but you couldn’t help but get butterflies in your stomach when you pictured his eyes, lips, face, and even his smirk in your head. He was like another drug.
Finally, Scott returned to the car and with him was a couple of bags. “I got you some medicine to help with the mess and the feeling like you’re gonna throw up every minute.”
Scott was a lifesaver!
“I got you medicine also for the pounding in your head. I also got you water and this,” he scooped up a stuffed raccoon (ik this is weird but its the first thing i can think of) placing it in your arms.
“Aww this is so cute Scott. Thank you for all of this, really I truly appreciate all you’ve done from driving me to getting me these meds. Its means a lot.”
“No problem y/n. I always wanted to accompany a beautiful lady in distress.”
“Well you picked the right one.” Nausea was the symptoms you were feeling at that moment. It was unknown to you if it was the drugs, alcohol, or Scott.
“What are you going to name the little guy?” Scott pretended to pet the fake raccoon.
You stared at the stuffed animals eyes and knew what the littler vermin would be called. “Veneno. Its means drugs in Latin.”
Scott giggled. His smile making you weak in the knees. “That’s perfect.”
“I know right-” You hurled on the floor beside his car. It was almost like a continuous cycle. You, vomit, him, help. It was compared to a endless waterfall.
“Thats it.” Scott rubbed soothing circles on your aching back. “Let it all out. I’m here for you and not going anywhere.”
Feeling very sick at that moment, you clutched his hand for support. Finishing letting the drugs exit your body, Scott handed you the water bottle. “You know, you’re one of the good ones as well,” you croaked as your throat was burning.
You drank, letting the cold liquid slide past your throat. Your eyes kept opening and closing. Throwing up takes a lot out of your body. You felt you were used as a punching bag and all you wanted to do was get some sleep.
Scott got in his car and started it. You were a fallen leaf, a wilted flower. Your head fell against Scott’s shoulder - like a dropping petal - and there you fell asleep.
“I think its time to take you home,” Scott whispered.
Starting something with Scott meant something to you. Yes, you may have gotten high at a cheap, smelly party but at least you had the pleasure of meeting a young man who cared.
Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @dirbel, @eastcoasthaven, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @melonreblogsstories, @reginalinettis
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henlo : ) can I trouble you for some ... Dwight, Evan and Herman Hcs with.... An exhausted s/o,,, like they go through phases of not being able to sleep at all to suddenly sleeping for 24 straight hours... ily
(Anything for u Gryff.... u babey.... sorry if these weren't that good, i tried my best to rush these because I heard you weren't doing so well. hope u get better bc like I said... u baby..)
Dwight Fairfield
Dwight is a heavy sleeper, so when he gets really exhausted he's gonna be out like a light, and possibly just think you sleep with him. He'll lay his head on your bicep, it's definitely his favorite place. He never thinks much of it if you move his head because you can't sleep, and you need to move around. He'll just think he moved in his sleep.
If you get dark circles under your eyes before you crash, he'll notice and shoot you worried looks. As a college kid who worked when he wasn't studying, and slept rarely, he could certainly acknowledge signs of sleep exhaustion. He would press you, asking you questions about how much sleep you got. If you refused to tell him, he would give you the sweetest puppy dog eyes, with his bottom lip sticking out. You have to tell him you're not sleeping.
When you DO crash, he's gonna freak the hell out. If you give no signs that you're asleep, such as snoring, or loud breathing, YEP, he's gonna bawl his eyes out thinking you're dead. It takes Claudette to say that you're just sleeping, just so he'll stop his crying. She'll guide his fingers over the pulse in your wrist just so he'll stay calm.
If you're out of the Fog, he's thinking about calling 911, while also vigorously searching google on how to check if someone's alive or just asleep. If your neck is ticklish, I'm so sorry. He's gonna be prodding his fingers into every crook in your neck to feel your heartbeat every 10 minutes or so. He's WORRIED, OKAY??
If it's not your first time doing it, and he's used to it, well he's still gonna be a worried mess. Expect you to be pulled into his lap, while one of his hands running through your hair, the other on your wrist to feel your pulse. 100 percent gonna silent cry a few times. He just misses you, that's all. You'll definitely have to change whenever you wake up, because you're gonna have Dweet tears all over your shirt.
Once you wake up, he'll be so excited!!!! He'll be like a puppy, attached to your side like velcro, kissing you all over. So what if you're a little stinky from sleeping for what seemed like an eternity!!! He doesn't care, you're his precious S/O and you will get all the kisses in the world because he loves you.
Evan MacMillan
He'll notice immediately when you're about to knock out. He's worked many a day and night in mines, so his old friends and even father used to show major signs of sleep exhaustion. He'll slowly watch you crash, only insisting once or twice that hey, maybe you should sleep before you crash. If you're too stubborn, he'll shrug his shoulders and go back to working on his traps, or chilling with you.
Once you crash, he's just gonna shrug his shoulders. WELL? He told you. He cradles you in his arms and sits down wherever he feels comfortable. You'll be laid in his lap like a baby. He'll still work on his traps, but make sure to not drip any sort of oil on your face. Sometimes he'll nap with you, not for very long, but he'll lay you out on his chest, and give you a goodnight kiss to the top of your head. You'll get his buff arms wrapped around you, so he's protecting you from the ground of wherever he chooses to lay down.
Due to his time period, he's not quite used to showing public affection. But while you're asleep, he feels less nervous. He's gonna lace your fingers in his, kissing your knuckles. Every part of your body will be kissed smooched and praised like the royalty you are to him. Maybe he doesn't show enough affection to you while you're awake. He prays you understand that he's just not a very affectionate person when eyes are on him. But when eyes are closed, you're his baby.
When you finally wake up, he'll go back to his normal gruff ways. He will, however, whisper a sweet "I love you" in your ear as a welcome back gift, paired with a kiss on the lips. He loves when you sleep for hours in the future. He'll even take extra precaution to put bear traps around every entrance so no one can hurt you if he happens to ever have to leave for a trial.
If he ever does have to go into a trial, though, and you are in it still asleep, oh lord. You'll IMMEDIATELY be put on his shoulder, flung over as carefully as he could. He tucks your head into his neck, so you can't hear much. Oh yeah. It's Agitation time. Let's just say your teammates aren't gonna be so fond of you for a few days after that trial. He always makes sure to shove you down the hatch. So what if he gets punished by the Entity. No way he's gonna wake you up with a hook in your back.
Herman Carter
Herman Carter, as we know. Is a bastard. He's gonna watch you exhaust yourself, as he has worked with exhausted people before. After 16 hours of no sleep, he will start asking you questions about yourself, who you WERE before you came into The Fog. Tired people don't lie. He will not shoot you concerned looks, he will watch you intently. Out of love or out of fascination? Who knows. He MAY even try to keep you awake longer, seeing how far he can push you. A jolt to your heart once your eyes start sinking under the tired weight. Whoopsie. He'll apologize, with a soft giggle, acting as if he didn't mean to do that. Spoiler alert, he did.
Once you finally crash, this man is not much of a better person than he once was. He's going to toy with you. Looking over your entire body, seeing where you're ticklish, what scars you have, if your body matches up to your story. Attaching a brain wave monitor to your skull to make sure you're not gonna wake up on him. He has the decency to wear rubber gloves, but honestly only to keep his electrodes down to not wake you. You'll be examined, clothes removed, your ENTIRE body.
Lie to him in his examination, you'll be punished in your next trial. He can always blame his anger in trials on the Entity.
If he catches you in a truth, however, he's gonna go easy on you. Pepper shocking kisses on your neck, dressing you gently to not disturb your sleep. A medical bed will be dragged into his study to lay you on as he studies your brain waves. What are you dreaming about, he'll wonder. If bored enough, he'll read a book from his shelves, laying you in his lap. He's noticed your brain waves are more active in this position, you're his little dreamer.
Once you wake up, life will continue as normal. He'll pretend as if you never slept in the first place, smiling at you and planting a kiss on your head. After all, it is only between him, his equipment, and your sleeping body that you're his little lab rat.
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hetalia fantasy class headcanons (dnd 5e)
from someone very educated to make them (aka who‘s played way too much dnd over the years)
feliciano: bard, college of glamour. he sings a lot and paints a lot and god he can’t fight- but his charm and optimism have a way with people and can even be considered inspiring in his own quirky way. oh also he’s just a lil bit slutty. but hey, that can be convenient sometimes. he’s just a very genuine bard who would rather be entertaining people in the tavern and bringing up their spirits than out on the battlefield.
ludwig: paladin, oath of devotion. he’s orderly and lawful and a strong, solid fighter who can’t be taken down very easily. he’s dependable to a fault with a strong moral code. his focus on living to a certain code in his health, lifestyle, and morality sometimes gets in the way of enjoying things, and generally he wants what’s best for others and that matters to him over his own convenience. though he’s a sturdy and powerful fighter, he’s got a softer side to him especially in rescue or protection, and this shows through a dutiful healing ability. possibly multiclasses or dabbles in artificer, being an analytical and competent engineer.
kiku: monk, kensei. the boy is good with his swords, knows his blades well and what they’re good for, and is light and agile on his feet despite being undeniably grounded. often can be found meditating or doing other things to strengthen his mind and soul. he speedwalks everywhere and seems to be so light and in control of his actions that he can almost defy gravity at times, smoothly achieving wall-runs and scaling trees or buildings like it’s nothing and without a sound. he’s not too strong and he’s a bit superstitious, but he’s dexterous, wise, and quickwitted.
alfred: fighter, gunslinger. he’s a cowboy babey! no but really, tell me you can’t see him twirling his revolvers around and being a sharp shootin son of a gun. he’s a risk taker, he’s a bit reckless and lives on the edge but is headstrong and has his fair share of grit. he’s a pretty charismatic talker too. though he’s not the most booksmart person around, he’s creative with his risky experiments, making his guns more volatile and a bit explosive, but unique and effective (when they work). he’s got alot of trick shots up his sleeve and uses them for dueling but also, more often, for flare.
matthew: ranger, horizon walker. he’s perceptive and quick to react, alert, quiet, and observant, but he knows his way around the woods and knows how to survive in thick forest without many manmade goods. he wants to help people and protect them the best he can, thus he guides people out from the wilds and from a distance, tracing his shots through the trees, eliminates threats to the innocent with his bow. he’s not just quiet, but rather he seems to literally disappear and reappear when moving or, sometimes, at random.
arthur: conjuration wizard / archfey warlock, pact of the tome. yes i chose two things. i think he’d be a straight up multiclass of these two classes because he shows an interest in reading out spells from a spellbook and studying/experimenting with magic on his own, however he also plays around quite a bit with extraplanar beings- almost daemons of different kinds, a lot of times who he makes agreements or deals with to gain their help or power. id imagine he uses an otherworldly patron as a way to enhance his preexisting magic as a conjuration wizard. also it makes him just a litttttle bit scarier. pact of the tome would be the definite choice for his warlock pact because he’s much stronger in his intelligence and ability to study than his charisma.
francis: bard, college of whispers. i can also see him as college of glamour, i mean look at the name, but... hear me out. i think he’s more capable in his words, his eloquence in speaking and charming people just as easily as blackmailing them with a certain knowing gleam in his eyes. he appears like a glamour bard, just as beautiful and just as indulgent– but he’s listening to every rumor, all the gossip, everything he could later use to his advantage. he’s good with a rapier and uses it in addition to his already cutting words.
ivan: warlock of the great old one, pact of the blade. now, pact of the blade is misleading– the warlock’s weapon doesn’t have to actually be a blade. in ivan’s case it would be a polearm of some kind resembling a simple metal pipe. he can cast some powerful, freaky spells due to his mysterious relations with a dark, unknown god, and in addition he can use that power through his weapon to completely crush anyone he so chooses with unadulterated eltrich power. he can be a bit misleading when not in battle, using more helpful support cantrips and spells that may not be so harmful. but hurt him and, well... they wont find your body.
yao: rogue, arcane trickster. he’s a dextrous little man who’s light on his feet and quick to dodge, quick to haggle, and quick to pull less-than-pious stunts to get his way. illusion and trickery come natural to him no matter his alignment; making false items to gain money or trade for something more valuable, and instead of getting too upset, getting even by way of cheap tricks for revenge. he’s frugal and far wiser– especially streetwise– than he sometimes gives off, knowing the city or the area he’s in like he’s been there for 1000 years. and maybe he has.
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Tax The Rich [alternative title: Out]
Ramón Morales x Reader
Request from @im-just-babey: Hey bro, could I request a Ramón x reader where the reader has a wealthy but shit family.
-Rules for requests can be found here-
Word Count: 2,046
Note: For a while the only thing I had for this fic was “tax the rich” so that’s the title now. Also, you may have been expecting something where they’re rebellious and it’s all a big huge middle finger to the stuck up wealthy family, but uh it’s been a while since I wrote some spooky fuckery -since Ham Sandwich Boys- so I took the liberty of leaning more towards that. Sorry this took forever to post, thank you for your patience.
Ramón scrunches his nose, the house was as big as the mansions his aunts would tell him about. Si nomas vieras, ya parecen castillos.
Looking around at the extensive foyer, he takes in the double staircase and stained glass ceiling piece above him, he doesn’t feel right. Stepping foot into the lavish home was a mistake. Ramón needed to be on the road again, not letting himself get distracted by whatever this was.
He’s not gonna tell you that, of course. Something told him to follow along with your eager eyes and smile.
“Well, what do ya think?” you ask as you jump on the first step of the left staircase. Ramón smiles and takes another look at the “french polish” you had mentioned on the staircase railing, whatever that meant.
“It’s… a lot, but it’s nice.” he responds dryly and laughs at the unimpressed look on your face.
“You would hate listening to the guy that designed this house,” you begin to walk up the stairs as you imitate ol’ John, “Ah yes, I told Doris myself that the finishing Italian light oak stain would not be proper for the west study. Why, it would clash terribly with the evening sunset.” sending you two into a fit of giggles until you hear footsteps upstairs.
Ramón steps back from the stairs, “You sure no one's home? I don't want any trouble and I should get going anyway.”
You were confused too, your parents have been out for a week and the maids were given the weekend off, “No, I thought everyone would be out by today.” you respond, peeking at the empty hall upstairs. Even your siblings had planned a small trip to the beach for a couple of days without you.
Suddenly, you see your younger sister walk out of her bedroom, “And who’s that? Does dad know you’ve got a little friend here or should I tell him?” she snickers.
You roll your eyes, “Go ahead, I’ll join you and together we’ll see what he thinks about your secret powder stash you’ve got in your room.” you snap back, glaring at her as she descends from the right staircase.
“Fine,” she scowls and takes a quick look at Ramón before leaving, “but you better take out the trash while we’re out.”
Ramón’s face gives away his discomfort and as you begin to apologize for your sister’s rude comment you hear a loud thud above you. “Did you hear that?” you ask him. You could’ve sworn the two of you would be alone by now. Another muffled thud, still somewhat louder than the first.
“C’mon.” you wave him over. The two of you walk through two hallways and another flight of stairs, reaching the third floor living room. Then you hear it again, something shuffling from the attic, “Great.” you sigh.
Sharing an anxious look with Ramón, you pull down the squeaky attic ladder and stare into the darkness. "I haven’t been up there in a while.” you whisper, “It’s been under construction since the beginning of the year.” The attic was being remodeled as a space for you and your siblings, a plan agreed by everyone before they all started being complete assholes.
Ramón begins to climb up the ladder, "How many rooms do you really need?" he jokes and reaches for the temporary light switch on the floor beside the opening. He takes note of the iron set of lights over the double pool tables, the dark leather couches, the soft bearskin rug and a tall bookshelf that extended across the east wall, interrupted in the middle. The attic was half finished, but there was no sign of a recent disturbance. “Nothing’s up here.” he tells you.
You warily climb up the ladder, stand over the hardwood floor and look around. “They told me renovation was to be completed next month,” you eye down the dark unfinished half of the attic, “It had stopped a few weeks ago due to a ‘change of plans'.” you form air quotes with your fingers. You walk underneath the overhead attic light and listen to its strange buzz.
Ramón walks around one of the pool tables, rolling the cue ball under his palm, "What's that over there?" he points at the far corner of the unfinished half. The corner had boxes piled one on top of the other, held in place by bricks and several wood planks leaning against the pile.
You shrug, "The small closet, it might still be there behind all the junk."
Suddenly, you hear heavy breathing behind your right ear, making you both whip around as you slowly get closer to Ramón. You see nothing. Still, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched.
"You uh, forgetting to tell me your house might be haunted?"
"Shit, I- no." you stammer, he raises his eyebrows. "I don't know, okay? I've been having weird dreams of the old maid since we let her go about a month and a half ago. I always see her standing at the edge of my bed.” you explain, remembering your last nightmare of Mrs. Clarice. You also recall dreams of another woman growling from inside your bedroom mirror, often joined by disembodied voices that would cry for revenge, curses and to be “let out”. You never understood the pain and anger in their words, until now as you stand on the other side of the tiny door. The tiny door anyone could just seal and forget about...
"Let her go?" Ramón interrupts your thought process, "Got any clue where she went?"
"Well, my parents had also fired two other maids after her and they never told us why, nor did I think much about her absence until I began to have the nightmares.” you explain, panicking at the thought of what really happened to the three women. “Shit, you don’t think my parents-” you can’t bring yourself to finish your question as you begin to hyperventilate. Your head runs wild with possibilities of the women’s fate and what the closet could be hiding from the world.
You notice Ramón stand in front of you, blocking your view of the corner. He takes your shaky hands and asks you to slowly breathe in and out. “For all we know, those women are probably fine and you’ve just got a family of rabid raccoons holed up in there.” he suggests.
“What about my nightmares? She tries talking to me and I hear other voices. She seems like she’s angry and crying for something, like she’s hurt or-”
“Trapped?”
You wipe tears away from your eyes, glance at the pile behind him and nod, “I might find her or something there.”
His silence is alarming and you turn to look at him, expecting an annoyed glare for dragging him into the situation. Instead, he turns around and takes a few steps back. You hear a floorboard creak under Ramón's foot, which somewhat prompts another thump from the boxes. Along with the buzzing of the overhead light that grows loud and erratic now.
Ramón turns to you wide eyed and as he’s about to speak, there’s another thump and a plank falls. Your heart begins to pound against your chest and you begin to hear a faint voice in your head, one of the few from your nightmares. “Out. I need out. Out. Out. Let me out.”
You feel an invisible pull from the corner, sensing the voice in your head calling for you from underneath the pile. Suddenly, you feel Ramón grab your elbow, "Wait, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get closer."
"Someone is in there, behind all that. I can feel it." your eyes begin to sting, but you refuse to look away from the pile.
Ramón feels it too, there is someone else in the attic. Their presence heavy on his shoulders, pressing on the back of your necks. Angry. Demanding. He knows that they, whoever they are, is not going let either of you leave now.
"Fine, but we gotta be careful about this." he sighs and reaches for a long hammer inside an abandoned toolbox by the wall.
The two of you walk closer and hear ragged breathing from under the mess. He pokes one of the bottom boxes with the end of the hammer, but nothing moves. Your shaky hands begin to gently remove the planks and bricks. In silence. One by one. Ramón takes two boxes off from the top, surprised by their weight and opens both to find them full of sand. He attempts to push one of the larger boxes at the bottom, but it seems too heavy to move with one arm alone.
“Someone’s definitely been hiding something in there.” he points out, “Do you still wanna dig through this?”
You can still hear the voice ring inside your head, “Out. Out. Out.”
“No, I don’t,” you shake your head, “but we also can’t leave this, can we?”
He hums in agreement and the two of you continue moving the rest of the boxes. One by one as you remove the boxes, you notice an awful smell. Ramón notices as well and he asks again if you’d like to continue.
You don’t, but you grab another box.
You just want to get this over with.
You grab another box.
You just want the angry hissing in your head to be gone now.
Finally, you get to the bottom, the two of you work together to remove the remaining bulk. Once the last box in front of the small door budges, a pungent smell seeps out. You gag and Ramón begins to cough.
“Yup, there’s a dead body in there.” he declares and covers his nose with his jacket. He was right, any remaining hope you had of finding something else is gone now.
You turn to look at him, “I’m sorry,” you cough, “just wanted to show you around and hang out. Not discover a fuckin’ body in my attic.” you give the box a kick.
Ramón smirks under his jacket, or maybe it’s a grimace; nevertheless, he wiggles his eyebrows, “It’s alright, just another casual hang out with a brat inside their castle. The usual.”
You laugh and shake your head, “You haven’t even seen our giant kitchen.” you quip.
Thanks to Ramón, you feel numb, or rather prepared for the other side of the door. Sure, you barely met the guy only this morning and you’re on the brink of discovering what could be a corpse in your own home, but you feel like you can trust him. He could’ve left you to face this on your own, especially when he’s been itching to leave, yet he’s sticking around. You believe he’s simply interested enough to stay, but the concern in Ramón’s eyes tells you otherwise. He’s choosing to stay and face whatever is on the other side of the door with you.
“Alright, if anything jumps out, grab the hammer.” you bury your nose into your sweater, knowing it may not even mask the foul odor, but it wouldn’t hurt to try anyway.
On the count of three, you and Ramón push the last box away. The closet door is worn down and bits of the wooden panel in the middle stick out from the inside. You grab a nearby flashlight, turn it on and slowly open the door. The voice in your head dies down with a final “OUT.” and the buzzing of the overhead attic light stops.
Sure enough, you’re met with a swarm of flies, several maggots and three figures wrapped inside what used to be white sheets. The smell is overpowering and although you feel the urge to run from this, your eyes are drawn to the holes made at the mouths that have been cracked wide open, fear frozen in time. Above them each are two black circles, oozing dark liquid from underneath the sheets.
You hear Ramón gag and you open your mouth to scream, yell, anything. Nothing. You attempt to reach for Ramón, barely able to move an inch. You turn your head to check on him. As soon as your eyes meet, you hear a pop echo from the closet.
Then, as clear as day, a groan.
“Out.”
-Feedback is always appreciated-
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Ohshc Au Idea
- Ohshc Au where they all go to art school (both performing and drawing and stuff y’know (is it called visual??))
- Sort of like the same vibe as that show on Netflix called Backstage
- The school would be one of those super prestigious art schools like the Juilliard of their universe
- Tamaki would obviously be there to study piano
- he’d spend hours in the practice rooms and all of the other pianists hate him because he’s got some sort of superhuman power when it comes to booking practice rooms before anyone else
- Kyoya would be vocal performance with a minor in Broadway type acting (help I don’t know the actual terms)
- here I go again rambling about my Kyoya can sing headcanon that I will go down with
-Babey boy would probably be known as one of those people who can sing anything throughout the school
- Everyone from school can tell his voice apart from everyone else’s
- like if they walk past a practice room and hear him singing inside they can tell instantly that it’s him
- like picture this: a senior is giving a freshman a tour of the college and they walk past the practice rooms and inside practice room 3 the Freshman can hear someone singing in the best voice that they have ever heard. The freshman says to the senior with starstruck eyes “Who’s that??” “Ahh” the senior says “That’s Kyoya Ootori, he’s kind of a legend around here”
- Hikaru would be a Shakespearean type actor
- Like he has whole ass monologues on the tip of his tongue at any given moment
- He’s a super good actor however he can’t sing for shit so he could never be in a musical
- He’s secretly jealous because Kyoya can sing so well
- They’re secretly jealous of each other
-Kyoya wishes he could act as well as Hikaru and Hikaru wishes he could sing as well as Kyoya
- Kaoru would be the one to take over their mother’s business and would study fashion and clothing design
- Even though Hikaru is the eldest he had no interest in the family business and decided to pursue acting instead
- Luckily for the Hitachiin family Kaoru took to clothing design from a very early age
- He makes clothes for the rest of the hosts on a regular basis
-He makes all of the clothes that the hosts wear for their performances and art galleries and whatnot
- The drama department loves him because he makes all of their costumes
- Mori would be a sketch artist, a painter, and a sculptor
- He’d basically do everything in the art department from drawing to welding metal figures
- he doesn’t talk much so he communicates through his art as cheesy as that sounds
- He constantly has either paint on his clothes, clay under his nails, or both at the same time
- People in the general public are slightly concerned when he opens his bag and they see a blowtorch inside
- His metal sculptures are littered all across campus
- Some of these sculptures include but are not limited to: A giant replica of Mary Poppins, Patti Lupone (Kyoya legit cried when he saw this one), and a giant metal spider that the students have so aptly named Kenneth
- Kenneth lives on top of the Art building
- Despite the fact that he’s an art student he really loves showtunes and gets really excited to see/hear Kyoya sing them
- Honey is a culinary arts student
- His specialty is (obviously) desserts
- He makes the prettiest cakes and the most delicious meals
- He has to stand on a step ladder to make those giant wedding type cakes
- He constantly smells like a bakery... like constantly
- Haruhi is a violinist
- she treats her violin like a baby. She even keeps it in the child seat part of the cart when she goes to the grocery store
- She goes to the school on a violin scholarship
- She plays a cheap violin she got from a small music store when she was ten with her birthday/Christmas money that she had been saving for years
- The way she plays that cheap little violin you’d think it was a super nice expensive one
- She’s mostly self taught
- When she was young she couldn’t afford lessons so she taught herself to play
- She only began to take lessons when she got to high school
- I imagine when she isn’t playing classical for school her playing sounds a lot like Ada Pasternak
- Ada Pasternak Video: https://youtu.be/YQSzk44hBmk
- when they don’t live in the dorms they rent a fairly large house that they all live in together (like that house that Sam Golbach, Colby Brock, Corey Scherer, Aaron Doh, Devyn Lundy, Jake Webber, and Elton Castee lived in together)
- Tamaki has a whole ass grand piano in his room
- Nobody’s really sure how he got it in there
- He also has a keyboard that he brings around the house for jam sessions with the other hosts
- They have jam sessions in the living room
- Tamaki brings down his keyboard or he plays the little theatre piano that sits in their living room
- Haruhi brings down her little violin that she loves with all of her heart Kyoya would sing with them
- They’d do stuff like that Ada Pasternak video I put earlier in this post except instead of Haruhi singing it would be Kyoya
- Mori’s room legitimately would not be a bedroom
- It would be an art studio with a Mori sized bed in the corner and a theatre style clothing rack next to it
- he has like four easels all around the room and a desk covered in drawing pads, pencils, ink markers, colored pencils, oil paint, and random multicolored stains
- In the middle of the room he has a raised platform with whatever sculpture he’s currently working on sitting on top of it
- He has a shelf with all sorts of supplies in it
- He has like three different blowtorches, a huge array of paint brushes, different sharp things for his clay sculptures, hammers, a bunch of books on the history of art, and a dirty paint and clay covered apron with random burn holes in it
- Kyoya has like a whole arsenal of throat coat teas and herbal things in his room as well as a kettle and a hot plate
- In the corner he built a small room that only has room for one average sized person to go inside and coated the inside with sound proof padding and that’s where he practices belting and other different vocal techniques
- Kyoya absolutely loves their giant bathroom
- The acoustic qualities make him really excited he loves to sing in there
- Kyoya, Tamaki, and Haruhi sometimes jam in their fantastically acoustic bathroom because they are attracted to good acoustics the same way a moth is attracted to a bright light
- Hikaru has a whole library of scripts in his room
- like his bookshelves are just overflowing with scripts from all the plays he’s been in
- Some books on Shakespeare and the ins and outs of acting are scattered around the bookshelf too but it’s mostly scripts
- On his desk he keeps the script from the show that he’s currently in right in the middle of his desk with a pencil cup in the corner full of pens and highlighters
- He has a huge bulletin board in his room filled with pictures from different shows and different print outs of his favorite monologues and whatnot
- Kaoru’s room is similar to Mori’s in the sense that it’s barely a bedroom at all
- He has a small bed and a small dresser and the rest of the space is filled with his work
- He has a huge desk that is covered in scraps of fabric, scissors, and measuring tape
- He has a HUGE pin cushion in the corner that would be an absolute hazard if it fell to the ground
- Above his desk is a giant bulletin board similar to Hikaru’s except his is less of a collage and more of an idea board
- It’s full of sketches for new designs and has the occasional magazine clipping or inspirational quote
- Honey basically lives in the kitchen
- His room only has a bed and a dresser and a few ginormous bookshelves
- on these bookshelves are countless numbers of cookbooks
- 90% of what’s on these bookshelves is actually just regular notebooks and journal type things full of recipes that Honey has come up with himself
- The kitchen is HIS domain none of the other hosts ever use it other than to get the occasional glass of water or snack here and there
- They basically eat gourmet every night
- He cooks all of their meals and uses them as his guinea pigs
- Luckily for them 99% of the time his food is absolutely delicious
- Their house is full of just bits and pieces of what they do
- Mori’s artwork decorates the entire place
- The centerpiece for their table is a bouquet of metal flowers that Mori made
- His paintings decorate the walls and some of his sculptures sit as decorations in some of the different rooms
- There is sheet music literally all over the house
- nobody bats an eye when hey find the crescendo piece of a classical violin song on the kitchen table
- or when they find the lyrics to a classical opera song jammed in between the couch cushions
- Kaoru will often use Haruhi as his model for his dresses
- he’ll have her put on a tank top and bike shorts and literally build a dress onto her body and by the end she’s walking around the house in a whole ass Victorian style ballgown
- God help their house if Kyoya gets sick before a performance
- The amount of throat coat tea he consumes is absolutely unreal
- He has a little table with shelves behind it in his room with a tea kettle and a hot plate on it
- on the shelves behind it are boxes upon boxes of throat coat and herbal tea and a whole arsenal of mugs
- The house always smells like cooking food because Honey lives in the kitchen and is always cooking something or other
-When it doesn’t smell like food it smells like burning metal because Mori is always working on some sort of metal sculpture with one of his countless blowtorches
- This boy legit keeps a fire extinguisher in his bedroom in case he sets something on fire with said blowtorch
- Christmas season is absolutely wonderful in their house
- Tamaki and Haruhi are playing Christmas songs
- Kyoya is singing them
- Honey is making all sorts of festive dishes (You should see him on Thanksgiving he goes absolutely ham (pun intended))
- Kaoru is making festive outfits
- Mori makes each and every one of their Christmas decorations
- and Hikaru is practicing his lines for the production of A Christmas Carol that he’s in every year (This is his fourth time playing Scrooge!)
- But all in all this is a house where creativity flourishes and they all boost each other’s creativity to the max
- and of course they all graduate and become extremely successful and stay close knit forever
BONUS:
- Renge is also a vocalist she performs with Kyoya very often
- Kasanoda is a ballet student
- People are surprised he does something so graceful and elegant because he looks scary but when you really think about it it fits his personality
- Nekozawa is a poet (Edgar Allan Poe 2.0)
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Tsukishima Kei — Teasing
This is referring to more of a friendship with Kei than a romantic relationship. But you could think of it either way :)
Okay obviously this man is going to be a huge tease. Shorter than him by a few inches? Will make fun of your height. Your hair naturally brown? Will call you shitty hair (bakugou is that you?).
He won’t say sorry about it, either. Unless you visibly show you’re legitimately hurt by it. Like deeply hurt by it.
It Was At This Moment That He Knew, He Fucked Up.
You guys probably will avoid each other for a few days before Yamaguchi makes him talk to you. Once when you and him are alone he will be really awkward about it. A lot of unwanted tension and unneeded silence.
He’ll blurt out he’s sincerely sorry. Maybe even treat you afterwords by buying you a meatbun/your favorite snack. He isn’t familiar with words and how to use them. His tone of voice may come out wrong or he says something he doesn’t mean. Please don’t react harshly by what he says baby is really trying his best 🥺 Give him a few minutes to untangle his words and say it properly.
Once when he finally got his shit together by then you know he’s sincere and you feel better. You might chuckle a little bit because he’s just a goofy hot mess. He’s so funny trying to apologize to you. like a child !
He will never admit this out loud—and I mean NEVER—but he does care about you. Teasing is just his way of showing affection. The more he teases the more he seems to like you. But he doesn’t want you to know he likes you. So he does the OPPOSITE of love; hate. Tease. Being obnoxiously,, out of his way, rude. Another reason why he teases is to hide how he feels? Like if he suddenly becomes embarrassed he’ll call you “bakka” or some other mean comment to hide the fact his face is a very deep shade of beetroot.
He also teases because he likes your attention. Who knew a snarky comment could give him all the attention in the world?
Again, he‘s aware he can take things too far, but he never actually knows the what. What causes things to be too far. What does he SAY that’s bad. Why? When? Where? Who?
In his noggin, he knows he doesn’t think the things he says are true. So when you take it seriously he seems clueless at first
Poor Tsukishima,, thinking people can read his mind and know he’s joking.
After thinking the situation through your perspective, he can see how much of an asshole he really looked. Mental facepalm.
Once when you guys make up, and I mean the SECOND you make up, he is back to being a salty saltine cracker. Will say lighthearted remarks.
He will probably purposely call you a ✨nostalgic✨ nickname or say the most used remark he always uses on you. I say nostalgic like one of the first insults he ever said to you.
Since you guys have been avoiding each other, being able to hear Tsukishima’s remarks somehow made you happy??? Especially a older one.
He’s considerate idk 🥰
And babey really does have a heart please 🥺 he just hides it with his salty comments. Everyone notices his mean remarks but if you analyze them you’d realize he meant something TOTALLY different.
For example:
“Hey, Shorty.”
“I’m not short!!!”
“I have to bend down just to be able to look at you.”
“I will steal your knee caps before you get the chance to run away.”
“You’re legs are so short, N/N-san. You wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”
What he was really saying was;
“I want you’re attention. look at me.”
“oh, here’s you’re attention.”
“Not Enough .”
“Wha-”
“m o r e”
Yeah, he’s subtle like that.
After you two get it off, his way of words starts to rub off of you. Whether you like it or not. You suddenly know great combacks whenever you get into an argument. Always leaving the other person speechless. You learned from the best, after all 😳
If you tell him that you learned from the best, he’ll most likely feel flustered. A sudden tint of pink rose to his cheeks and the tip of his ears. He’ll call you stupid and useless as he looks the opposite direction of you to cover his face. Because you’ve been picking up his own habits you start teasing him.
“Awwe, is Tsukishima-kun flustered?”
“No—Boke.”
He’s so used to you teasing/insulting him that when you actually compliment him he doesn’t know how to act. Even if it was more on the sarcastic side he’ll still freeze up like 😀 whut.
He also just adores you so a compliment from you is everything 🥰🥰 a mega softy on the inside don’t fight me on this.
All in all is a real jokster 😅🤣 but can and will be serious when needed. He will always be there for you. He isn’t good with words but is real good with actions.
If he notices you’re visibly sad he’ll (snarkily) ask if you want to hang/study at his place. If you accept y’all would just chill out in his room. He would be wearing his headphones, doing homework on his desk or something while you sit on his bed, a big dino plushy wrapped around your hands. Probably scrolling mindlessly through your phone. Sometimes each others presence is all you guys need. Suddenly you don’t feel as sad.
If you’re really sad and just end up breaking down, venting and/or crying out to him, he’ll listen and won’t interrupt you. Headphones = off.
Don’t expect him to say a speech or reassuring words. He doesn’t know shit when it comes to that type of stuff. You shouldn’t expect him to hug you, either. Even tho most people would react that way Tsukishima isn’t like that.
“Oi, what are you-”
“Tsukki,” you sniff, “I can’t do this anymore....” You bury your face in the dino plushy, hugging it closer to your chest.
You go off and complain about your life. He would definitely be surprised/taken aback. He’d just drop whatever he was doing and listen to you. If someone did something bad to you (a bad friend, dark past, toxic relationships, etc.,) He’s imagining how to confront them at tomorrow at school ❤️😌
But that would have to wait. He definitely wouldn’t say a mean comment. If he does, it would only be one that could make you laugh. Lift your spirit. In the moment, he might put a hand on your shoulder, arm, or back. Just to remind you he’s here. And you might lean into his touch. You just spoiled your deepest insecurities and past, after all. You’re vunerable to him now. And honestly Tsukishima might be the best person for that.
He’s quiet and reserved even though he says loud, evil comments all the time at everyone. Nobody can read his facial features because he always stares with a blank face. Nobody can pinpoint what he’s thinking. And nobody asks because he hides well behind the wall of Tsukki Insults™️©. Even being as tall as 190 cm, he can hide pretty well. He can definitely keep a secret and act like nothing happened.
He also might rub circles on your back or squeeze your arm/shoulder as a way of saying “you’re okay” “i’m here” “don’t worry”
This isn’t his typical style but this is definitely a side of him that’s there. It’s just nobody sees it.
After you feel better, he’d act back to normal and keep on doing his work. If not, he’s probably babying you a little bit. Will give you water or warm milk (warm milk and cookies, maybe??) and put on a movie on his tv in his room. The tv is small but, i mean,, it’s there.
Turn off the lights for you. Maybe make popcorn or any snack you like.
“But—Tsukki. You’re homework... you won’t be able to do it in the dark.”
“It’s fine. I can do it in the morning.”
“Are you sure..?”
“Yes, baka, I’m sure.” He ?softly¿ scowls
You’d be under the warm covers. He’d probably be in bed, too. Not under the covers though. And he makes sure to keep his distance. A few ft seperate you guys. The only way that gap is gonna close is if you move yourself.
If you do,,, he’d definitely ask and tease you. ‘oh, you wanna be near me?’ “shut up.”
Honestly you probably feel touch deprived, or touch deprivation. After all that crying and thinking bad thoughts. You’d probably want a simple hug but Tsuki would never give that to you and you know it. Even if you directly asked he wouldn’t. And watching a movie in the dark just makes the atmosphere so moody..? Perfect rime for cuddles!
I dont blame you 💔🥺
Kei wouldn’t move away but he wouldn’t suddenly put an arm over your shoulder or anything. He’s gonna keep to himself. He won’t mind sitting like a few inches apart. If your shoulders are slightly touching? He’s gonna get a lil tense. If you are noticeably leaning onto him and your legs are close to his (even when they’re under covers) he is gonna be rEalLY tense and flustered.
“What do you want, creep.”
“Nothing.”
“Liar. Just spill it.”
“Mm, I just want to be with you. Is that okay?” You say, teasingly innocent.
A flustered tsuki tenses his shoulders, “I’m already with you, dumbass.”
“Saying useless insults now, are you?”
“Shut up.”
Will probably end up leaning on you a bit, too :>
If you fall asleep he’s just gonna let you sleep on his bed all night and sleep on the couch or something. His neck will be a pain in the morning which he’ll make you buy him a strawberry shortcake as a thanks for his bravery and sacrifice.
“Here’s your shitty shortcake, your highness.” You say sarcastically.
He gives you that signature smirk, “This is what happens when you fall asleep after balling your eyes out to me-”
“Hey!” You grow pink out of embarrassment. You’re an ugly cryer so you didn’t even want to imagine what Tsukishima witnessed.
“Uh...., T-Thanks for listening, by the way..”
“Oi, don’t start getting sentimental.”
“I-I’m not!” you protest, “Can I not say thanks? I mean, you helped me... a lot. I always bottle things up.... so i...”
“It’s fine. You repayed me by giving me this strawberry shortcake.” He eats another bite
You look up at him and smile. You could tell he meant that he doesn’t mind it. And for you to shut up before he gets flustered again.
Tsukishima Kei cares for you 101
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i am writing on two hours of sleep in the past twenty-four hours so please excuse me and all of my mistakes, both grammatical and overall. i swear i’m usually in a playful, cryptid in a sexy way kinda mood... fhsduifhds SO. so ! ian moon. alright, i’m leaving important links down below !! the google docs document contains his biography in a slightly ( re: no big improvement ) better state than what i’m giving you under the read more, so if you’d like 2 give something ( SLIGHTLY ) more comprehensive a read i’d recommend it !!!
( jeon jungkook, cismale ) hey ! have you seen IAN MOON around ? HE works as a SKI INSTRUCTOR (KID) at big bear resort, but they must be off their shift by now. well, if you do see them can you let me know ? they’re 22 years old & they’ve been working here for THREE MONTHS. they tend to be +SPONTANEOUS & +CHARISMATIC, but can also be -MANIPULATIVE & -DESTRUCTIVE. the other employees have labeled them THE REVELLER. thanks a lot ! ( charcoal-stained fingertips, cat hair on dark hoodies, frowning lips around an e-cigarette , distressed pokemon cards & the gleam of a new mercedes benz under street lights. )
google doc + playlist + pinterest board
THE PAST, a brief summary:
ian was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. as soon as he could make demands, he got everything he wanted whenever he asked for it and then more. i wish i could sum up his childhood in those sentences alone, but the bitter reality of his early youth was that he was a lonely kid. his mother was a rather young trophy wife who married into his father’s family and became pregnant to tie herself into the family’s empire and his father was a ceo of a real estate company who only cared about making ian a suitable heir to the title. he was allowed too much freedom from the start– his dad only involved himself in ian’s life when it came to academics and his mom… well, his mom lazed around the house enough for ian to see her every few days or so.
he rebelled around his first years of university in seoul. he was studying business to follow the path that was set for him when all of the pressure that had been building up finally made him SNAP. ian ruined what little relationship he had left with his father and decided to leave home altogether after making a massive mess he couldn’t fix. with a subsequent agreement he made with his mom, he got to choose where to live, if to study right away, and what to do for the time being with a bank account full of funds. now THAT’S the ian living and working in big bear village you know !
ADDITIONAL HEADCANONS:
his job ! ian works as a ski instructor for kids. back when he was a child himself, he and his family would often go on vacations and that frequently included leaving korea to go play in mountains of snow. ian is really good at skiing because it was one of those skills that he worked his naive ass off to be wonderful at so his parents could have something to brag about. besides choosing it because he’s good at it, though, ian also enjoys really active atmospheres in general. he likes being kept busy and interacting with others and he likes being out in the cold like a mama duck since he ended up getting assigned to teach children how to skii. he quickly warmed up to the job and he has a ton of fun working with kids which is hard to believe considering how generally insufferable ian is in any other setting.
mimi ! a short one but definitely worth mentioning because if i don’t mention her, he will. mimi is ian’s ( and roman’s ) beloved cat, he would literally die for her. she began living with them in their chaotic apartment after ian rescued her tiny kitten self and took her home. she is extremely spoiled by him even though she herself is lowkey feral.
postive habits ! so ian is truly a man of habit. the pros are that some of his habits are really, really good... and the cons, of course, is the flipside that his negative habits are rather... very bad and annoying. but these are the good ones !! it seems like he doesn’t really notice it, but he makes an active effort to treat his friends because he doesn’t really know how to express affection unless it’s within an inappropriate joke or comment. he’s quite loose with his expensive belongings and will quietly pay for his friend’s drinks throughout the night. he works out a lot, he would be a gym rat if he wasn’t busy being a disaster. he makes up for all of the alcohol he drinks by eating really healthy ( unless he’s high or, again, drunk and needs oily unhealthy food or else he’ll die ) and keeping up with workout routines ! i don’t recommend having him as a gym buddy because he’ll show up at your doorstep at four am with protein shakes and a really shitty workout playlist. he is very into art !! his favorite medium is charcoal and he keeps his drawings / occasional paintings very greyscale. he can be seen sketching the mountains during his free time like a true buffering romantic, and his future plans include going to art school !! he’s real organized with his general space n etc ! a tidy boy.
negative habits ! alright, so ian has a lot of these. perhaps the biggest one is that he doesn’t accept criticism on his character even though he cares about how he’s perceived which is really very annoying for many people who know him. he’s... how u say... irritating. he never, ever takes anything seriously and he’s always making a dumb joke, so he has this persona of being a charming flirty pretty boy who sleeps around like a god taken straight out of greek mythology. in other words, he’s 100% a fuckboy. the reason this is a bad habit is that ian is actually really smart and reliable but he wears 50 coats of shallow asshole that cover that up. it’s his thing. he thinks it protects him or whatever. he can b... manipulative... he’s just really good at lying and will never hesitate to do it. he is BAD at relationships !! he treats them as things to pass the time or avoids them altogether in lieu of just getting the fun part of people and honestly... it’s lowkey evil... he’ll string people along and then blame them for getting attached ? of course he goes on to feel very empty !! because he does this stupid impulsive shit !! all the time !! but anyway ian smokes e-cigarettes and he’s always got a fancy one in his pocket that he WILL use during any free outdoor time that he has. he likes 2 party a lot and make bad choices while he’s drunk and then do that over and over and over again fhdisufh. that’s the reveler for u babey !!
misc headcanons ! ian is a huge weeb and loves video games. he plays all big three gaming consoles + PC and u BET he hosts super smash bros hangouts w/ snacks and weed and everything u need basically every weekend when there’s not already a party goin’ on. tbh in general ian rlly likes to start parties up like he’ll b the first to text ‘ aye where the party at ’ all the time and there’s no party invite he’ll say no to. / he’ll randomly start sketching u if ur sitting across from him n there’s a pen in his hand. / he wears absolutely no colors like this boy rlly only owns dark or pure white clothes. / he has only 1 tat: a palm-sized heart on the side of his right hip. ton of ear piercings tho !! / nnnn.... i’ll leave this lil section at that fr now !!
to sum it up, ian is a mix between a charming socialite boy and a messy fuckboy.
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