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espresso-lessdepresso · 9 months

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abcd

*.✧500 follower fluff event✧.*

Fluff Alphabet 2.0 HC: abcd, efgh, ijkl, mnop, qrst, uvwx, yz

A - Apprehensive — How apprehensive is he when he falls for someone? How long does it take for him to open up?

Schlatt had never expected to harbour feelings for you. You were his friend, someone he got comfortable with after knowing for a long period of time. You were the person he would talk to and text at the most random times of the day about even more random topics. Messing with you and bullying you slowly turned into friendly flirting, calling you 'sweetheart' and 'darling' on the occasional discord call. And him forgetting how to speak if you use his own tactics against him, calling him 'sweetheart' and 'handsome', noticing the red crawling up his neck and ears and eventually his face. He would throw the most absurd innuendoes at you because you rolled with it, even firing some back at him to keep up the back-and-forth banter. It was all done so effortlessly, he didn't think too deeply about it. Not until he had to come to terms with what his actual feelings for you were, and why you were the last person he thought about before going to bed and the first person when he'd blink his eyes open in the morning.

But as soon as he would come to accept that maybe he likes you more than just a friend, he could not help but think of all the ways it could go downhill. Sure, he believed that you should always shoot your shot, but at the same time, somewhat hypocritical of him, he doesn't want to lose you or create any awkwardness between the two of you. Not only that, it's simply so easy to have a pessimistic outlook these days, and with how the internet is, anxiety would creep up on him when he would think about how you two would navigate the relationship-- thinking all this before even confessing. There would also that small cynical part of him that doubts if you would truly like him back.

Though he was apprehensive about having a relationship with you, all the negative thoughts and anxieties looming over his head like a dark cloud, he could not let those thoughts push away someone so dear to him. Likewise, he could not let some nerds on the internet scare him and affect this part of his life. Countless late-night calls would be held between the trio, Ted, Charlie and himself, just talking about all the things he could and should do. Since the other two are already in a somewhat public relationship, they'd have ample advice for him along with his own ideas on how to go about it. Hearing one of them offhandedly say, "...take too long and someone else might swoop in and take them." might ignite a new sense of urgency in him.

B - Backrubs— Does he like getting backrubs or massages from his partner after a stressful day? And does he reciprocate?

Schlatt is a big guy, standing 6'3 and towering over almost every person he meets. He has already mentioned multiple times about how his back is always hurting. Now pair that with a day loaded with work and being hunched over his desk. The awful posture would surely strain his spin along with his shoulders and neck. You would hear him groan and wince every now and then when he is seating himself next to you or getting up to grab some water. When you would offer him a back rub or massage, he wouldn't be able to decline. "Oh honey, you don't have to do that..." but he'd already be craning his head to the side as your hands would press on the nape of his neck, applying enough pressure to release some of that stress stored in his muscles.

When you would sit next to him or hold him and rub the length of his back, an odd but relaxing sense of relief would wash over him. Difficult to describe- it's entirely and wholly comforting. The feeling of your palm caressing up and down his back, or side to side on his shoulders, occasionally dipping past the hem or neckline of his shirt to feel the soft and warm skin underneath. Your fingertips would raise goosebumps and he would hum, the touch making him feel simply satisfied-- happily content to have someone like you to share these tender moments with. It's a rather small but important act of affection.

Schlatt, him and his big ol'hands-- look like they would give such amazing massages and backrubs. He kind of wouldn't know what he's doing the first time, treating you a bit like how he would treat Jambo and hoping you feel somewhat relaxed. It's the thought that counts, right? So you might have to direct him where to put pressure. He also seems like the type to watch videos on how to properly give a massage after the first time.

When you would be glued to your desk, Schlatt would be the one to come over quietly, placing something to eat on your desk and asking you when you'd be finished with work. As he's talking to you in a low voice, careful not to disturb the focused atmosphere of the office, his large hands are on the balls of your shoulders, squeezing gently and working their way down your arms.

When you both would be laying down on the bed or on the couch, your back flush against his chest, almost absentmindedly his hand would start rubbing circles or squeezing you along your hips and waist, slowly moving towards the base of your back. He would run his thumb up and down the curve of your spine, being anything but surprised if you'd fallen asleep because of him.

C - Camera — Does he take pictures of you or you two together? What does his gallery look like after being with him?

Not too many, but enough to see your face pass by with every scroll of his thumb. Perhaps in the beginning, he held back from taking any pictures. Since he wasn't too comfortable with having a camera angled towards him, he would probably not pull out his phone often for that matter. He is also a pretty private person, not the type to whip out his phone at every moment, but once you two break the ice that comes with dating, pictures of you would slowly start to take up a majority of his camera roll. A smaller majority compared to Jambo that is.

There would be pictures of you two together—one where your faces are smooshed against each other's and it takes over the entire frame. Your hand can be seen pressing his face closer by the chin, his eyes squinting as he tries to hide his smile, pretending to be annoyed; one where you're both dressed up for a date, where he's a bit reluctant about being in the picture with you but when you lean your head against his chest and he sees how perfect you two look next to each other, he happily complies; one where he's fallen asleep on you and you open the camera on his phone to take a picture of the precious moment, his face pressed against your neck and your fingers lazily in his hair.

There would be solo shots of you, one where you asked him to take a picture of the sky and its changing colours, but instead, he takes the picture with you against the sunset. It would always makes him lose his train of thought when he would look back at it. There are ones where you're in his hoodie or covering your face with one of his hats. And the ones of you where you're in the kitchen with him, covered in the aftermath of his foolery, white flower on your head trailing all the way down to your pants. Whenever you would look at that picture, you'd be pulled back to that moment and remember his shit-eating grin as he was taking out his phone to take the picture.

And of course, he would have a special album for all the blackmail material against you. The sequence of pictures where Schlatt caught you in your not-so-finest moments which are then followed by half-blurry pictures where you chase after him or grab his phone out of his hands, a failed attempt at deleting the pictures because he locked his phone at lightening speed.

There would be a picture he would hold so close to his heart that he might even consider having it printed and framed for his desk or wallet. It is would be heartwarming picture of you and the two cats, all curled up on the couch fast asleep. He would take quite a few different angles but his favourite is the top-down view, fully capturing the moment. You're wrapped up in a soft throw blanket, Jambo under your arm and the black cat curled by your lap laying on top of the blanket. He would be just smiling to himself like a goof whenever he'd be looking at the picture.

D - Date Night — How do dates with him usually go? Are they fancy and romantic or more casual and fun? [This is different from the previous one, which was first date]

The usual dates would be casual and laid back. You would get off of work and Schlatt would pick you up from your place or you would agree to meet up at the restaurant. A hug, a kiss on your cheek, then you'd be walking towards your table. Dinner and drinks with quiet conversations between you two as he would reach across the table to hold your hand. And if you two were sitting on the same side of the booth, he would put his arm around your shoulders. Sure, you two might have already had dessert but why not get some ice cream and drive around a bit after that?

And there would be some casual dates that would be more than just going out to eat. Sometimes it would be going to the arcades or amusement parks, where one of you would beg the other not to on the scary rollercoasters or thrill rides, but would end up going anyways. And one of you would be screaming at the top of your lungs while the other would somehow manage to laugh and enjoy the ride. Schlatt might not be able to win against the crane games, "They're all fucking rigged I tell you." but he would be able to get you one of those tall stuffed teddy bears. His skilful shooting and aim would come in full use as he would knock down all the cans or pop all the balloons with the toy rifle, all while a cocky grin would be plastered on his face.

It would be nice to go out on more romantic dates every once in a while. Seeing you all dressed up would make him ditch the hoodie for something more classy like a freshly ironed button-down shirt with dress pants [black button-down schlatt I repeat black button-down schlatt]. He would try to make these romantic and fancy dates unique and memorable from the others. One time it would be on the top story floor with the entire city as its view, another time it would be something more extravagant. He would want to make each date better than the last one, wanting to see that smile and surprise painted on your face. But he would also tier himself out, trying to figure out what the next date should be and instead stressing himself out.

At moments like these, you would suggest having a more simple date night, like the ones you had at the beginning of your relationship. Movie or game night dates with [an attempt at] a homecooked meal. The alcohol would already be buzzing in your head, bringing a warm red blush on Schlatt, as you would figure out what to cook together. When the food is on the stove, Schlatt's arms would be wrapped around your waist, hugging you from the back. His hands would slide to your hips and slowly sway you to the tunes playing in the background. With another sip of his liquid courage, he'd be more daring in his steps, bringing you out to the open area of the kitchen. A soft smile would set on his face as he would twirl you and try to gracefully dip you with one arm holding the small of your back, before pulling you back up to meet his lips.

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Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.

master list

.✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

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probablylia0 · 10 months

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i apologize for spamming but i love ur writes sooo much you are my fav schlatt writer 😭

could u write something abt schlatt forgetting the public doesnt know he has a gf and accidentally mentions her?

Accident hcs- Jschlatt 🐏

Woww thanks so much, and its totally ok! ❤️☺️

He’d obviously accidentally reveal it on stream since if he recorded it he would just edit it out.

In this, let’s say he’s doing a “ranking your disgusting bedrooms” video.

One of his viewers would like show off their jewelry and a bracelet that looks like one that you made him (or bought him your choice) pops up on the screen!

He’d start by criticizing the room and then he’d go “And that looks like the bracelet my girlfriend made me.”

He’d grin wide and lift his wrist showing off the bracelet.

He wouldn’t notice until his chat began freaking out and spamming “GIRLFRIEND??”

Immediately his eye widen and he could be heard saying something under his breath “Shit.”

He immediately ignores it but something’s clearly bothering him.

For at least a couple weeks people were just posting clips of him fucking up.

You tried to tell him you didn’t care but the problem was that he cared.

He knew how much hate he got and he didn’t want that to spread to you.

You told him you could handle it and he said that if he saw things going too far he’d shut it down.

He immediately took a stupid picture of you and posted it on twitter with the caption reading, “You caught me. I’m officially 10x more bigger then all of you virgins. My woman.” He attached the photo of you to the tweet and @ you in it.

Of course there was a lot of attention. Mostly good, but also the expected hate.

You both shrugged it off and ignored it.

You were both relieved to be able to finally be able to openly speak about your relationship, it’d be an understatement to say he was showing you off like a prized trophy.

#jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt fanfiction

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ohworm-writes · 1 year

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Hi! I'm sorry if you're not doing requests, but if you are, I full heartedly believe that, in private, schlatt loves to just hold you and cuddle. He had a bad day? His head is on your chest for or nuzzle into your neck. Watching a movie? He has you on his lap or pulled tightly next to him, jambo snuggling in. I just need someone to bring this to life so I can read it over and over 😤🥺

◧▥—JSCHLATT AND PHYSICAL AFFECTION—▥◨

Pairing: Jschlatt x Gn!Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None!

Synopsis: A simple assortment of headcanons related comprising of Schlatt’s views of physical affection and his love for cuddles.

Word Count: 0.9k

Author’s Note: Sorry, I’m just so mentally I’ll when it comes to him. I love him with everything in me and this ask has been rolling around in my brain for months but I had no clue on how to approach it. Hope you enjoy this anon. 🫶❤️ This kind of sucks though, sorry.

Schlatt does not enjoy public displays of affection whatsoever.

He gets severely uncomfortable whenever he sees couples out in public with their hands all over each because, while it may be sweet, those acts are better left private.

And even in his own relationship, he’s extremely hesitant. The most you’ll get is a hand on the small of your back or something of the like. A touch that appears to be platonic while it may have romantic intention.

However, this being said: whenever he’s in the comfort of his own home or, even generally speaking, in a private space, he’s much more comfortable and willing to indulge in acts like these.

He loves pressing soft kisses to your forehead and trailing his fingers along your skin. All of these are acts of physical affection that he adores.

But above all? He absolutely loves cuddling with his partner.

While his hands and feet may be naturally cooler, this man runs like a furnace. He’s a space heater, through and through.

But trailing back, he adores laying in bed with you, his loving partner, arms wrapped around you with his face pressed into your chest. He’ll lay there for hours, not a care in the world about what may be happening elsewhere or anything of the like, solely and simply focused on the way your body feels when it breathes. The rise and slow fall of your chest. The soft breaths you exhale. All of it.

Or, what about resting his head on your shoulder as he hugs you from behind? Breathing in and exhaling slowly as he relaxes into you, body like putty against your back. He’ll interlock his fingers together with yours, holding them towards your stomach as he stands and sways in silence with you.

Or even acts as mundane as watching television or movies! He’ll have an arm wrapped around your center as you lay with your back pressed against his stomach, the back of your head to his chest. His free hand would trail featherlight designs against your skin, swirls and lines and shapes in every design.

And of course, we can’t forget Jambo. That precious boy is a lovebug as well. He’s constantly rubbing against your legs and body wherever you are, insisting on laying in your lap or on your chest or something of the like.

Schlatt gets jealous at times, but he’d never admit that. Him? Jealous of his own feline companion snuggling up with his partner? (Okay, maybe, but he’d never admit that).

Picture this:

You would be silently sitting at your desk, body hunched over the edge with one arm propping up your head as you try desperately to focus on paperwork, eyes shifting in and out of focus. Your breath would come out slow, calm, and there would be music playing and ringing through your ears, the melodies working to keep you attention on the task at hand.

Schlatt would be caught up in a similar situation, leaning over his desk as he types out on his computer the script for a new video he has planned. And he’d be so bored, so out of it that he can’t will himself to concentrate anymore. You both would have been at your respective tasks for hours, in the same room no less, and he’d grow sick of it.

So, what would he do? He would take off his headphones, carefully placing them down on his desk as he would push his chair out and stand up. He would carefully walk over to you, having your back turned to him as he approaches. And while you can feel his heavy footsteps rumble behind you, you’re so focused on trying to focus that you can’t really will yourself to care.

And he would just, ever so carefully, place his head between the crook of your neck, eyes trained on the way your hands write out a few words before crossing them out a few moments later. He would bring his arms to hook together in front of your stomach, pressing his body against the chair and slumping over you. He would turn his head downwards and press a kiss to your skin before letting his eyes shift back up to look at your work.

And he would just tell you to give it a rest, to come and lay down with him because he can’t stand this situation anymore. And don’t you dare try to deny him, because he will pick you up if that’s what it takes.

He’d lead you to bed, arms still wrapped around you and on you, and he’d maneuver himself so that you both would be laying on your sides. You would have him, head below his chin with your arms wrapped around each other and legs slotted against one another. He’d press one hand to your back, rubbing up and down every so often, with the other trailing doodles against the plush skin of your thigh.

And the scene is so peaceful, so full of love that he gets lost in it.

Who said that, that’s crazy. Certainly not me-

But in all seriousness, he’s so touchy in private, but only in private. He still hates showing public affection, but in private he’s all for it.

And although he never asks directly, it’s almost like you can tell whenever he wants or needs to be held close. Pure expression of love that it hurts.

He’s rude and mean, obviously. And that’s how he shows love. But sometimes, all he needs is to hold his partner close, press innocent kisses against them as he murmurs about something that doesn’t matter.

Because that’s what peace is. And he loves every second of it.

#jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fanfiction #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfiction #jschlatt fanfic

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sorceriee · 2 months

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kiss, kiss

hes so BROAD and as his pretty little colleague i WILL suck him off under his desk during his meeting.

as schlatt leans back into the uncomfortable chair, he sighs whilst looking to the left. it’s been a long week, and the still, humid air drives him insane. he spreads his sweaty palms, rubbing them against his dress pants.

as he looks up, he feels his pants loosen around him and his brows furrow. he glances back under the table to see your pretty doe eyes looking up at him and he swears he could cum already.

you glide your hands slowly down his thighs…inching closer towards his cock every second. you simply continue to look at him, all smiley and giddy, and he rolls his eyes at you, pretending not to care for it although he really just does it so that his fellow coworkers don’t suspect anything.

but as soon as you swirl his leaking tip in your mouth, he searches for the roots of your hair, grasping it tightly as he gasps while the others are laughing at a stupid joke. he prays that you get this over with, so that as soon as he’s done with this meeting — he can fuck you in the break room.

love, mildew.

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simpliao · 2 years

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UDBSISNDSIKF MADAM I CANNOT! STOP! SCREAMING!!! THESE FICS!!! UGGGGGHHHHHH

You are one of the few people giving me my JSchlatt fix, and I cherish every second of it. If I may be so humble as to make a request, can I suggest something involving praising and giving some lovin’ to the Big Guy himself? I feel like he’s the kind of guy to not recognize his own value and contributions, especially in a romantic relationship. Sometimes to just need to smooch, hold, pamper, and remind your boyfriend how much you love him. Thank you and bless your goddamn angelic heart🤍

hey, hey, hey lover ; (irl) schlatt x reader

summary : schlatt is adamant about breaking up, y/n sees through it. and even if he doesn't ever feel worthy, if it takes her an eternity of holding him close and assuring him; she'd do it in a heartbeat.

info : angst to fluff, feelings of unworthiness, depression, poor mental health, mentions of anger issues, reader comforting schlatt, she/her, afab reader. title sourced by the amazing song by the daughters of eve.

a/n : SO GLAD YOURE ENJOYING ANON, BLESS YOU TOO AWE ! decided to take his self deprecation to the extreme just to have some heart warming, chicken-soup-for-the-soul type fluff. Still doing my best to roll out requests!

to anyone who may relate to the way schlatt feels, even if you don't have your own y/n please do know you're not alone. people love you so please seek help if possible. you can get through this toots, we're all rooting for you. ♡

Everyone had their down days, days where everything seemed so hopeless and desperate; being that Schlatt wasn't always the most mentally healthy he would have these feelings more often than not. Never dare uttering the things his mind conjured up in the midst of his constant battle against himself. He took medication, medication that he hid in the back of drawers and never mention to his lover, sometimes he'd never find a moment alone and he wouldn't take it. He'd deal with it on his own, this was his problem, and therefore he figured it was his to deal with.

Other people had their own struggles, adding his would only hurt and stress other people. It wasn't worth mentioning, they'd only want to help him to be civil, because they were forced into it out of pity. He knew his girlfriend of so long didn't need that added stress when she's already practically worked herself to death, she didn't need him to weigh her down.

That's when real rainy days rolled in, when he wouldn't take his levothyroxine, when his lover found herself working late nights and leaving him alone at midnight with nothing but his own thoughts. Sleep would never find him, his mind too busy overthinking every decision in life, he wasn't doing enough, he wasn't enough. He'd find on those still, cloudy nights, nothing but doubt; Y/n must be working late because she can't stand me anymore. Every little distant memory finds a way to him, he wasn't the kind of guy to like PDA, she wanted to hold hands but he didn't, she must still resent him for it.

It sounds slightly exaggerated and stupid, like he was one of those alt, fifteen year old girls he oftentimes would poke fun at. But being in the right state of mind meant that he couldn't see past the fog of doubt that clouded his better judgement. She'd always kiss him goodbye, she'd always whisper the sweetest of nothings into the lobe of her ear, and repeat time and time again how much she loved him; but he was sure she did it out of pity. Who could possibly love him? His temper was short, he was by no means ever the hottest guy in the room, he told stupid jokes that he knew people only laughed at because they had to.

Y/n deserved so much better, just seeing her smile left a bittersweet ache in his chest; she would be happier with someone else. He adored her like she hung the stars and moon themselves, she was otherworldly beautiful to him, always so caring and bright. She was the light holding him together, but he was convinced he was the darkness that consumed and poisoned her life. Her insistence of her love was nothing more than sweet lies that he felt as if he just knew weren't true.

Those murmurs from within the confines of his mind reminded him of this constantly, a fake truth of his own worth and care from others. They whispered lies that would occupy his mind rent free, no one would ever truly love him because there was nothing there to love. Why was Y/n even with him? If he truly loved her he would want her to be happy, and how could she ever be happy with him? He was imperfect, he was damaged, why would she want a relationship that forced her to pick up the pieces he struggled to pick up on his own?

It all cumulating to a breaking point inside him, when Y/n confronted him about it. Her voice gentle and hesitant, she'd picked up on his behaviours for a while but marked it up to stress or just an off day. It slowly bled into his work, his relationship; becoming more closed off and distant. She wasn't entirely sure what was happening, that was until she found the pill bottle whilst cleaning up their bathroom. The original worry of some kind of addiction morphed into pain and regret once she searched up said medication's name to find out what it happened to be: anti-depressants.

She felt the realization sink into the bottom of her stomach, how could she not have known or have been there for him? She was determined to make it right on her end; be the girlfriend that she knew her boyfriend desperately needed and deserved.

"Darling, had there been something on your mind?" She didn't want to immediately jump into her findings, maybe he had an explanation for them? The last thing she wanted was to make him defensive and start a fight. She could have never anticipated the words that fell past his lips, all while never managing to hold eye contact longer than a few seconds at most.

"I..." want to hold you and have you tell me everything is okay "...want to break up." She stood before him shellshocked, mouth agape and seemingly straining to try and say even a single word. Eyebrows furrowed together with only a single thing escaping her, "what..?" Confusion evident upon her delicate features, Schlatt was breaking apart from the inside. She tried to take a step forwards, but all he did was take one back; maintaining the space between them. If she got to close, if her touch graced his skin and he'd be sucked back into his addiction of the feeling of her, he'd lose his self control and break apart. She didn't need his mess, it was his to fight alone; she deserved to fly.

"Why?" Her words were much firmer, a saddened tone lacing between them. At first came heartbreak, and slowly as she awaited for an answer to her cracked voice, she could see with the brief moments of eye contact something clouded in his eyes. He was hurting... It kind of clicked that he was pushing her away, he was trying to cope and prevent her from finding out the truth. He was still suffering, and knowing Schlatt as long as she has, it was in character.

She blinked away tears, he was ready to get into a shouting match and braced for the absolute worst. What he didn't brace for were the arms of his girlfriend to wrap around him, soothing voice never ceasing. It was a risk on her part, if he was genuinely wanting to break up and she babied him like this he would certainly blow a fuse; but she had faith in what she's learned in all their time spent together. And to her favour, rather than get upset, he melted into her embrace. "I don't..." He paused at his words, trying to bite his tongue of his words. "...I don't love you anymore." Those words did sting, no question about it, but he wasn't in his proper state of mind. Y/n promised to be with him until the end, she intended to live up to that promise, and now was not the end; just a bad day.

"I know, Schlatt. I know you're taking medication to try and help yourself." He tensed up at her words, in response she only made her grasp more reassuring and tightening her hold; letting him know she's there. "I really do love you, you know that right? I understand your belief in privacy, but you're obviously hurting; and seeing you hurt really does hurt me too." His large hands slowly came up to rest upon the back of her head and her back, head hung downward to face her. "Please don't hurt because of me." It was similar to that of a desperate plea of a disciplined child, as if he was the one at fault. "I don't hurt because of you, I hurt for you; that's because I love you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't love me." His words, spoken in a hushed manner whilst he kept his eyes glued to hers, filled with such belief of the falsehood. "I will always love you. Please, talk to me. What made you want to break up..?" He held a pause for a handful of moments, heart in a tough ache before he breathed out his confession. "Because you deserve someone better. Someone who won't hurt you, who'll make you happier." Her eyes watered at this, he'd been hurting so bad and what had she done? Seeing him like this, defeated, nothing like he should ever be, killed her a little on the inside.

"Schlatt." Her doe-like wide eyes are those that he could stare into forever, "no one will ever make me happier than you do. You're just... You're my everything. You think of me when I don't think of myself, you're secretly so damn compassionate, the most loving person I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting..." She burrowed her head into his chest, "and it kills me thinking you'll never see yourself the way I see you. You complete me, so please don't punish yourself to fight this alone. I'm here for you, and I always will be."

He practically fell into her arms at that point, gripping onto her like she'd be forever whisked away should his grip every loosen. Something in his chest alleviated, and for once he could finally breathe again. Holding her in his arms felt so natural, like they were always meant to be this close and interlocked together. For the first time a good while, he could feel the love again. She knew his feelings of self hatred and inability to handle praise wasn't just magically blown away, internally was still scarred and beaten down, he was still hurting. But at least for right now she could soothe his pain even just a little, and take the first steps towards recovery.

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itsonlydana · 2 years

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ok , now mcyts drunk confessing to you, dsmp characters edition

DSMP CHARACTERS CONFESSING DRUNK

pairing: c!Foolish x gn!reader / c!Wilbur x gn!reader /c!Eret x gn!reader / c!Schlatt x gn!reader

words: 6k

warnings: alcohol & being drunk, hurt/comfort, fluff

an: this took a while for me to write, whenever i started it i got distracted. You guys don't know how often i was this close to confessing everything to some of my crushes lmao. Don't do that, just because it's maybe romantic here :,)

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

FOOLISH:

Foolish and you had met through Quackity in Las Nevadas, an initially awkward first encounter in which you were both late for different reasons and ran into each other entering the hotel

as you quickly found out you both had an affinity for building, a love for architectural masterpieces and a tendency to make every building project a friendly (completely serious, depending on the result and victory your whole personality for the following week) but definitely only friendly competition

besides the competitions, raving about building styles and materials you often entertained yourselves by swimming in the sea, because you both wanted to avoid contact with hotel visitors during a trip to the pool and thus often found yourselves on the beach after a long day/night at work

Foolish's way of showing his affection were not only expensive gifts in the form of a new, faster pickaxe or a chest filled with marble blocks and other materials, all a pain in the butt to get, but also touches

when you first met he was reluctant to do this, unsure of how to place you as a new person in the social construct of Las Nevadas, but as you spent more time together these touches became more frequent

him putting his arm around your shoulders as you sat on the beach watching the sunrise/sunset after swimming, resting his head on yours when you were bent over blueprints, holding your hand as you climbed the scaffolding. Often you feel his hand light as a feather in your back when he's guiding you somewhere or you're walking through a door together (he always lets you lead the way) and it becomes especially frequent when he's completely overtired and overworked

most of the time he drops down on top of you, of course not wanting to bury you completely under his muscles, but then as soon as he is lying on top of you, one arm wrapped around you and his nose buried in the crook of your neck, he falls right asleep.

Sometimes he reaches for your hands for no real reason and he never explains himself either. He intertwines your hands and gets on with whatever he's working on at the time

The ice clinked against the rim of your glass as you twirled the crystal straw around in the cocktail. It wasn't on the menu yet, "a secret just for you," as Foolish had explained to you with a wink after you'd dropped tiredly onto one of the now-empty barstools in Las Nevada's club with a desire for something strong. Foolish, whose wink had glistened just like the deep red drink in front of you, stood behind the bar, a glass of his own in his hand, leaning wearily against the countertop. He had his eyes closed, exhaustion after a long night of filling the thirsty mouths of countless tourists and probably turning down hundreds of chat up lines on his face.

He looked good enough to eat, though, you thought to yourself, and let your eyes slide over his relaxed figure, shamelessly and bold now that he rested his. The tight black pants flattered his well-toned legs, especially thighs very much and also the vest, which he had taken off after the last customer and thrown over the bar, had stretched over his chest. The self-confident Foolish, easily showing off his good looks and fishing for tips, was through the door, in front of you was a picture that only you got to see.

His white shirt which he wore under his vest had slipped at the hem in some places out of its tidily smooth form tucked into his trousers and hung over the shiny gold belt loop, he had rolled up his sleeves carelessly, well as far as the fabric would allow with his strong upper arms, and two of the many small buttons were unbuttoned so that you could see the calming rise and fall of his chest. His long hair, otherwise tied in a braid, was now messily twisted behind his head, presenting his tense jaw and sharp cheekbones in the dim light of the bar.

You tilted your head, propped on your left hand, and took another sip of the cocktail. You knew the warm feeling in your stomach wasn't just from the alcohol, you felt it too often for that when you were sober.

The jukebox in the corner crackled softly as the record was changed and a new one was automatically put on, this time a much slower one. The first notes echoed through the empty bar, filling the comfortable silence between you and Foolish with a tune familiar to both of you, at which Foolish opened his eyes.

Your gaze was still on him when his met his, and for a moment you just looked at each other before Foolish's voice quietly drowned out the melody and the loud thumping in your chest:

"Would you like to dance?"

Normally you would have teased him for such a question or made a joke about your lack of dancing skills, but something was different today. You couldn't put your finger on what it was. Maybe it was the warmth in the rosy red sunrise that bathed Las Nevadas pink and fell through the glass doors into the bar. Maybe it was that something in Foolish's gaze as he walked around the bar and you accepted his outstretched hand with a smile. Or maybe it was the weariness of a long night, doused with many drinks, the taste of which made your lips taste sweet and your stomach do cartwheels.

Foolish led you to the center of the room, into the warm cone of one of the last remaining switched-on spotlights that bathed you both in its golden light. Any eye ogling was forgotten as soon as Foolish put his hands at your sides. Never looking away from his loving gaze you raised your hands and placed them in his neck, at the touch of your hands cooled by the glass and ice you felt the goosebumps on his skin under your fingertips, but your tongue was numb and another teasing comment remained unspoken.

It wasn't really dancing, just a slow swaying back and forth so lost in each other's gaze that you didn't even hear the record stop and none follow.

As your fingers unconsciously began to trace indefinable patterns, circles and gentle movements on the back of Foolish's neck he exhaled a quivering breath that shook his chest. You felt from his tight grip, not tight enough to hurt you, how hard he was straining to stand up straight, his head probably heavy with fatigue, alcohol, and the many thoughts that had just made themselves known at the bar in a furrowed brow and contracted eyebrows.

You repeated the movement in his neck, wandering your fingers higher to the base of his hair where it was slightly twisted for his braid. Without giving it much further thought, you released the clasp that had pinned the black hair far too tightly. As you began to carefully comb through the thick and velvety hair, his arms pulled you closer to him until no sheet of paper would have fit between you.

Foolish's head tipped forward slightly as he let himself fall completely against you. With a tired sigh and a yawn, he leaned his head against yours before sinking forward even further and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His breath hit the free skin on your neck hotly. You felt the words even before they reached your ears, the movement of his lips against your neck almost more distinct than the actual words.

"I love you."

A tremor ran through your body as his arms slipped from your sides and wrapped completely around you, pressing your clearly smaller body against his broad chest as he clarified the meaning of that great confession with every touch.

And you loved him too with all your heart and every thought, but you would tell him that tomorrow. Now you were showing him by holding him.

ERET:

even before Eret was officially crowned king of the SMP by Dream, you had made it your mission to always be at his side

not only because of his good looks, but also because you had often enough talked about a shared vision of freedom, your hearts far away in the distance while lying in front of black and yellow walls and imagining what it would be like to be somewhere else

one night he had taken your hand, pulled you with him on the caravan and pointed to a spot in the darkness, between tall fir trees swaying in the night wind and promised you to run there as soon as the walls were gone

that night you probably felt it for the first time, the leap in your heart and the tingling in your stomach, but these feelings had no place in the revolution and you repressed them - later

life went on, time took what it wanted and fate played with events as if they were a part of a play and not reality, where every action had serious consequences. Eret won something, Eret lost something and you stayed by his side no matter what happened and the tug in your heart became sometimes stronger, sometimes less - later

he declared you his most loyal knight on a lukewarm summer night, a grin on your faces as he struck Ted's wrath on your shoulders and gave you a sword in netherite, which you never took off since then

you were inseparable, finding comfort in each other's presence even when his touches set your skin on fire and the reality of your platonic relationship dipped your head in icy water

sometimes the lines between friendship and work blurred, ending up in unattractive expressions shouted in the heat of the argument, which you regretted afterwards in the lonely silence

to always remind you of your position, not as desired as a lover, but as the most faithful friend and protector, you always carry a photograph, clamped in the breastplate of your armor, on which you kneel before Eret, one hand placed on your heart, the other on his black shoe tips, and on which he, in his voluminous red coat and golden crown, places Ted wrath on your right shoulder

To say you were running through the castle would be an understatement, you were sprinting, your feet barely seemed to touch the ground and only one question was burning in your mind:

"What if I'm not fast enough?"

When one of the maids had stormily knocked, no hammered, on your bedroom door in the early morning, you had immediately been on your feet, the book in which you had lost yourself had been left open on your bed, neatly made for the sleep you didnt get in the night.

That's all she had to say, that's all you needed to hear. You flew like a whirlwind around the last corner where several servants stood with nervous looks in front of the high, closed doors to the throne room and you snapped at them with a slightly sharper, "Don't you have work to do?" that quietly dispersed the crowd chattering. Now alone in front of the door, you raised a hand to the doorknob and slowly pushed it down.

"The king," she had stammered when you had invited her in.

"What about Eret?" you had asked, your heart loud and hammering in your chest

"He is drunk and has thrown everyone out of the throne room. We fear a little for him, he had seemed upset after the ball"

"I have told you to leave," Eret's deep, slightly slurred voice rang out as soon as you opened the door. He didn't sound as angry and threatening as he might have hoped, though; the words trembled, pronounced much more through grief than anger.

You pushed through a narrow crack in the door and shut it quickly behind you, not wanting any of the servants to catch even the slightest glimpse of the almost pathetic sight of their king, for that would make for rumors spreading like wildfire beyond your control to suppress.

Immediately, your concern reached its peak, and you rushed across the room to drop onto the steps in front of him. His red dress flowed like water down his slender form, the same color as that in his cheeks stained by tears and most likely alcohol. On the floor lay an empty bottle of wine, also red.

But it was truly pathetic.

The walls were still adorned with the decorations of the previous night's ball, scarlet curtains and banners, red rose vines scrambling up the walls, milky cloths through which you had danced only a few hours ago hung ghostly in the room, which looked like an abandoned painting without the mask-clad people and the violin music, and in the middle of it all Eret. He was stretched out on the steps in front of his throne, his crown and his blood-red mask lying on the seat, to which he had turned his back. He had his eyes squeezed shut, and though he rested his head on one arm and hid his face slightly in the crook, you saw the telltale wet glisten on his cheeks.

"What's wrong, Eret?" you tried to bring him out of the thoughts he had probably plunged into, as he so often did. He disappeared into this world where he was getting caught up in things and worrying about events that were completely different. It was a place you couldn't follow him to, no matter your promise to be with him always and everywhere. To you, it felt like a breaking of that very promise, a betrayal and simultaneous heartbreak that you couldn't be where he probably needed you most, that you could never be there.

Eret's response to your question was absent except for an aborted sob. You slid closer on the step, placing an arm gently on his shoulder. "Eret? Come on, it's me, you can talk to me, can't you?"

"That's the problem" Ouch... "You're part of my problem" Double ouch "I don't think this problem would exist without you" You were sure your heart couldn't break into smaller splinters and yet Eret proved you wrong in this hope. He opened his eyes, stared at you through his pearly white pupils and stood up with a jerk. The dress rustled with the frantic movement, falling down on him no longer smooth and noble, but crumpled and moistened with alcohol and tears as he staggered trying to find his footing. You had jumped up with him, puzzled and hurt at the sudden cold shoulder, when just hours ago you had been dancing together.

"Eret-," you took a step toward him, he stumbled back two. "Eret cut the bullshit and tell me what's going on now!" you commanded in a shaky voice, you didn't know how to deal with all the emotions that were bubbling up inside you and threatening to sweep you off your feet just thinking about how he had flinched away from you and the warmth in his gaze had been replaced by a cold, impenetrable wall, but something was very wrong with Eret. It had been your promise, your oath to be faithful, where you had given yourself to him completely, with all your heart, and you couldn't ignore that because of your own weakness for him. He needed you, even if his words went through your feelings like sharp knives.

Eret fell backward against his throne and raised a hand waveringly, pointing at the doors with a stone-hard facade. "Go, leave me alone, that's what you're going to do anyway".

"I beg your pardon, what?" You thought you were the one who had been drinking, because what he said definitely made no sense. Confused, you looked at him. "Where did you come up with such nonsense? Why and where would I go, please?"

He laughed out, but not in the deep and full laugh full of joy, he was exasperated. "I know you danced with Sapnap, i saw you two dancing more than you danced with me! You danced with Sapnap and couldn't stop listening to all the great things he said about Kinoko. At least admit you'd rather live there and don't lie to me." Eret took a shaky breath.

You exhaled shakily. Tears threatened to burst from your eyes as you saw the fear in Eret. "I won't leave you," you whispered, because if you spoke louder, you wouldn't be able to hold back the tears and you would both cry, and then you wouldn't be able to help him. Again you took a step toward him, up the steps, until all you had to do was reach out your hand to bridge the remaining distance between you.

Eret looked up, his cheeks wet with fresh tears, and he sobbed out. "I love you, please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone"

The pile of broken pieces reassembled into your heart at the confession you had dreamed of for so long, only to be destroyed again when Eret helplessly reached for your hand, as if you would want to flee from him now that he had laid his feelings openly down to you. But you wouldn't, there was no reality in which you would ever leave Eret, could leave him.

"I love you too," you answered him honestly "I love you and I'm not going anywhere, do you understand that? Nowhere where you are not too. You'll never get rid of me Eret, never again".

It wouldn't be easy to convince him of this confession later, you would have to sit down quietly and talk about all the changes ahead of you, but when Eret pulled you into a desperate kiss that tasted like fruity wine and salty tears, everything was okay, at least for the moment.

WILBUR:

Wilbur was a man of many things, he mastered the power to give uncertain and lost people the feeling of togetherness and family, he could draw the best out of the most hopeless situations and awaken in everyone the desire to want to fight for something

Wilbur was also a man for whom and his words you fell without wanting to ever to be caught, completely and with all your heart

he had picked you up, like everyone else in L'Manburg he had taken you in and given you a purpose

you had supported Wilbur in the election, were hard at work writing notes at every debate, and spent long nights with Will thinking about next steps

after Schlatt banished Wilbur and Tommy from Manburg, you followed them to Pogtopia, packed all your things in a bag and stepped out of your house without once looking back

Wilbur was your constant, your rock without whom you would sink hopelessly in the merciless world, and you became his muse, the cause for which he wanted to fight. Not that you told the other, you showed it in the things you did for each other

there were days when he showered you with affection, told you at every opportunity how proud he was of you and how glad he was to have met you. On those days he reached for your hands, hugged you or blew a kiss on your cheek, after which you always touched the place where just a moment ago his lips had been feather-light, in disbelief.

you never defined what exactly you were, lovers, friends, soul mates, two hearts found in the darkness, giving each other comfort and light for an uncertain period of time, a temporary relationship.

there were nights when Will needed your company, holding you close, and when you were his anchor, his salvation from drowning in fears of the future and the great something that was approaching and lurking in every shadow of the cave that had become your home.

there were moments when you were the only one who could pull Will away from the abyss, moments when he wanted to give up everything or, on the complete contrary, was about to rush out and take the problem out of the world

your "relationship" was a flame, a flaming heat that engulfed everything and to which you surrendered as an escape from reality and a dream of a future for which you both fought

Every evening there is this one moment between sunset and night. A brief moment when the sun has already disappeared behind the horizon, the last pink and purple clouds drift across the sky, and the all-consuming darkness approaches.

A moment when there is no time, just Wilbur and you.

It was quiet in Pogtopia, Techno and Tommy had retired to their beds, with the flicker of a lantern still lighting the cave walls from the corner of Techno's small area, casting your and Will's shadows against the gray stones.

The shadows fascinated Will, and for several minutes he had been raising your interlocked hands and twisting them in all directions, spreading his fingers and laughing in excitement when he recognized an animal in the shadows. He was drunk, the empty bottle of wiskey lying beside him on the crossbar, and his breath with each laugh smelled of firewood, pines, and cigarettes. He was drunk, again, and had been pacing back and forth madly in an office knocked into one of the walls, tussling his hair over mysterious plans. Plans he didn't even share with you. He was drunk, and yet you had followed him up your beam, a sturdy piece of wood that reached across the ravine. It was placed directly under the only gap to the outside, you couldn't see much as bushes and foliage obstructed your view of the sky, but the last golden rays of the setting sun still made their way through the dark greenery and gently brushed your face.

You turned your head to look at Will. His eyes were still focused on the shadows, pupils large and lips slightly parted he looked at the wall until he felt your gaze and turned as well. His brown stubborn hair hung in his face and as you reached out a hand to brush it away, you felt the dust and grit in what used to be hazel brown hair. They had turned gray, lacking the shine and shimmer, just as the spark in Will's eyes was missing.

No, it wasn't missing, it was different.

Once it had been revolution, a stirring power had been in his eyes, sweeping you off your feet like a tidal wave and at the same time holding you carefully when you lost your footing. Today you saw little of that, of the slightly youthful recklessness, the fun, the will to make something happen even when it seems almost impossible. Now there was rage in his gaze, rage that would strike mercilessly over you and everyone in its path, drowning you beneath its waves if you couldn't swim.

"You look sad," Will said after a while.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Do I?"

He nodded, his dark eyes roaming over your face and lingering on your pressed-together lips. "You often look sad," his gaze continued to linger on your lips and he ran his tongue over his own "Is there anything I can do to make you happier?" he asked. He was already turning his upper body closer to you, the beam creaking under the slight movement.

Again you shrugged your shoulders. You ran your fingers over the back of his hand, over his bandaged knuckles and rough skin. "You could tell me what you and Tubbo are plotting for the festival".

The words echoed off the walls of Pogtopia, smothering any sound, and though they were inescapable between you, Will didn't answer, but put his lips to yours. You kissed him back, with the desperation of someone drowning, clinging to anything remaining familiar, because in all the chaos of Pogtopia, the change in the man who leaned over you and put his hand behind your head, the feel of Will's lips was still the same. He kissed you so he wouldn't have to answer, and yet every movement of his lips spoke for what was unsaid.

"I love you," Will murmured into the kisses, the words as raw as his lips and tasting more bitter than the alcohol on his tongue.

"I love you," he repeated those three words and you sensed he meant them, sensed the emotion in his drunken kisses. It's the truth.

"I love you," he said louder as he pressed his forehead against yours and your interlocked hands lay between your bodies.

For a moment, time stands still. The last rays of the sun move across the gap in the cave, illuminating your sanctuary in pink and gold, and you see a spark in Will's gaze, befuddled by whiskey and a dream of a future close enough to touch.

"I love you," Will whispers, and you see tears glisten in his eyes. It sounds like a promise.

The moment passes, darkness takes over the sky and the flicker of Techno's lamp goes out, taking the shadows with it and the last bit of light. Night falls, crushing and harsh and lonely.

The moment becomes the past, and though the sun will rise again tomorrow and set again tomorrow, you know it will never be the same.

"I love you," Will speaks into the silence. An apology for what will come with the sunrise.

You swallow hard, trying to remember the feel of his lips on yours, chasing their trail, and it grows heavier, receding further and further into the distance, like a dream that had slipped from your fingers. "I love you too"

SCHLATT:

the first time you met Schlatt, he had watched one of Will's speeches from a distance, a power in a black suit and a stern expression on his face that had twisted into a grin at your dry "What a load of bullshit"

you didn't make it easy for him, you stayed out of his way when he clearly tried to approach you during walks through Manburg and Schlatt loved a challenge

he invested a lot of time getting to know you, inviting you on dates that sometimes you didn't show up for because you didn't feel like it and other times you knocked on his office door at night, deprived of sleep and bored. You knew he was staying longer in the White House than anyone else, so you enjoyed the time alone, playing a game of chess or poker

you finally let him into your heart, accompanied him to political events, dragged him to museums or on long walks through nature, on which you - far away from the eyes of the world and hungry paparazzi - let yourselves fall into the high grass and just watch the rustling of the leaves above you, your hands intertwined

it was on one of these walks that Schlatt kissed you for the first time. You were lying side by side in the grass, Schlatt propped up on his arm and stroking your cheek with one hand before he leaned down and breathed a soft kiss on your lips. You had put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down to you, deepening the kiss

After the kiss everything was different, changed for the better. Schlatt took your hand in public whenever he felt like it, ran away with you from journalists and you spent many nights in his office cuddled up on the couch

he gave you many expensive gifts, jewelry, clothes, armor, swords, everything you looked at or thought about was at your home a few days later, wrapped in white paper with a red bow around it

despite this intimate relationship, you did not know exactly what your status was, or what Schlatt hoped to gain from it. He was an important man who gave daily speeches to the press or the citizens, spoke of Manburg's plans for the future and made promises, but he had never once said a single word about his feelings, about your plans for the future

it was what you had been afraid of when you fell in love with him and let him get close, you hoped it would not be your downfall

Laughing, you slapped Schlatt against his chest with your free hand as he once again took your words and twisted them. "Of course not," you replied, and Schlatt's feigned horror turned into a self-satisfied grin, "I doubted your execution skills," you added cheekily, which resulted in a pecking index finger to your side, which made you squeak away and press closer to Schlatt. The man pressed a kiss into your hair before his previously attacking hand intertwined with yours again. "No, it's really quite fabulous," you handed him an olive branch of peace to avoid being pulled into yet another tickle attack and let your gaze wander over the colorful Manburg Festival.

"I must say, you've outdone yourself"

"Oh, so you doubted me and my fantastic planning skills?"

The meadow in front of the big podium had been transformed into every fair lover's dream overnight. Colorful booths had sprung up like flowers, offering everything from sweets to savory treats, souvenirs and games, decorated with colorful flags fluttering in the light breeze and self-painted signs. You recognized many of the games, duck fishing, can throwing, dunk the man and even some unfamiliar ones were there that almost piqued your interest even more.

Schlatt watched your wide eyes shining with anticipation for a while, giving you time to take it all in while his gaze was on you, warm and full of emotions that would answer some questions if you would just turn your head slightly and look at him.

But that's exactly what you didn't do, you consistently looked at everything but him for the simple reason that you were afraid to tell him the truth about your feelings to his face. Instead, you pulled him in the direction of a booth, Schlatt smiling behind you.

As it turned out, Schlatt wasn't the best at sack races, not even close. While he tried to somehow hold on to the edge of the sack he was up to his hips in, one kid after another jumped past him across the fenced-in meadow. Again and again he looked desperately at you, but you continued to motivate him with loud clapping, which many of the other bystanders joined in when they realized that it was the president who was stumbling across the meadow. Your heart leapt more than Schlatt, the sight of him in the midst of this happy scene spurred fantasies in your head to a future filled with such events and family-friendly games.

The rest of the day was similar... warm, just with a few more drinks and shots that Schlatt wanted to drink everything nicer with, because "if I hear one more kid screaming I'm going to blow this all off," but despite his slightly grumpy demeanor when there were a bunch of toddlers screaming on the mini Ferris wheel behind you, you saw his smile at other moments. It was once again his "I think it's stupid that I enjoy this" reaction to experiences in which he would rather slip into his Mr. Politician role because it was easier, instead of opening up to something new. At the very beginning of what was between you, whatever it was, you had often noticed it, the mask behind which Schlatt hid his insecurity, but slowly it disappeared and you kept getting to know new sides of him. For example, the lack of talent for sack race

You moved from one stand to the next, hand in hand, arm in arm. Time flew by and as you headed for one of the last remaining tents, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon and only a few pink clouds drifted across the darkened night sky. Your cheeks were warm from all the laughing and shots you'd had with Schlatt throughout the day, and you felt like you were floating up there with the clouds. Your lips were sticky from the cotton candy the two of you had just shared behind one of the tents, you snuggled into his side while he complained about how sweet the cotton candy tasted and could hardly get enough of your sweet lips afterwards.

At your laughter, he turned, his cheeks pink and golden and his gaze admonishing and playful and full of warmth. He reached for the next ball, which just barely brushed the top can of the largest pyramid, and it fell backwards onto the floor of the tent with a lonely "klank." At Schlatt's exasperated expression, you suppressed another laugh, but ended up snorting, deceived as a cough, which earned you another "Hey!" from Schlatt.

You leaned your hip against the booth's wooden counter, your gaze much more focused on Schlatt than on the pyramids of cans and bottles set up as targets in the tent. As much as you wanted to focus on how he was living up to his promise of knocking over all the cans in one throw -well, doing his best- your heart was running in completely different directions.

The many strings of lights dangling and spun across the square bathed Schlatt in a warm, golden light, and he never looked better. His curls were tousled, a crown of daisies lay between his horns and in the brown hair, and Schlatt had never once made an effort to remove them, not even when you had encountered Quackity. He leaned slightly over the counter, one ball in his hand and the other he used to imagine a wobbly throwing line, which in planning might have worked somehow, in implementation, however, the ball landed neither in the cans, nor in the bottles but fell from his hand backwards into the grass.

"Feel free to buy more throws if you want to win one of the bigger stuffed animals," the young man behind the counter interjected, a money-making charming grin on his lips.

Schlatt grumbled as he took the last of his three balls from the basket and examined it.

You took a step closer to him, gently placing a hand on his upper arm. "You don't have anything to prove, you know that, right?" you spoke softly that the vendor couldn't hear any of it over the din of the still-full festival. "The evening was great enough, I don't expect a cuddly toy, really".

"Bullshit," Schlatt clicked his tongue and stood up straight. You could see the alcohol on him, but also the pure determination now more than ever to win you something. He turned slightly so he could better aim his throwing arm at the cans, then turned to you with a big grin. "I love you, and I'm going to get you that stuffed animal, cost it all the world! Hell, I'll buy out the booth otherwise!"

The muffled tinkling and clattering of falling cans following these world stopping words only reached you dully, in your ears echoed "I love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me." In one beat with the beating of your heart. You didn't know how you could take the next breath when Schlatt had just completely turned the world upside down. Nothing you could say or do seemed even remotely important enough to equal what Schlatt had just thrown at you.

It wasn't until Schlatt spoke your name several times, each time with a little more concern in his voice, that your eyes found his. Everything was still stopped around you, you heard nothing but your own blood in your ears.

"You love me?" you asked quietly in disbelief, unsure if it had really happened or was a game of your drunken brain.

Schlatt paused in his movement, looking at you with wide eyes and his arms wrapped around a big teddy bear.

"Haven't I told you yet? Don't tell me I've never told you I love you".

Silently you shook your head, but slowly the words got through to you and a smile played around your lips. "I love you," you grinned now, wide and with butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, "I love you too."

477 notes · View notes

starfishhy · 2 years

Text

Lovefool - Jschlatt x reader

~Fluff~

Hi! This is my first time posting anything here, and my first fanfic in like at least a year! Be nice pls! Feedback and recommendations on what I can do better next time helps a lot (especially format)!

Notes:

- some swearing

- alcohol/getting drunk

- need to know a few OTK members and friends

- reader’s gender isn’t specified

Enjoy! :)

Moving to Texas had been amazing for your career. As a middle level streamer and YouTuber, you had moved to Austin to be closer to your existing friends and make new ones in your line of work. Your closest friend, who had strongly influenced your move from California was Jschlatt. The two of you had met a few years ago during a Minecraft event and had clicked, bouncing off of each other easily. He had introduced you to several of his friends who lived in the area. You had gotten along with Maya specifically because of your shared love of animals, and helped out at Alveus at least once a week.

All that leads you to now, taking big sips of your third strawberry margarita of the night, watching Connor sheepishly do a slurred cover of Queen’s “don’t stop me now” at a local karaoke bar. Maya stood next to you, leaning slightly against the wall nursing her second beer. She nudged you with her elbow.

“You should go up there. Almost everyone else has done something!” She said, jerking her head slightly towards the stage in the small room reserved for singing.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that you had already watched Esfand sing his heart out to “take on me”, but that didn’t actually sound like a bad idea.

Draining the rest of your drink, you looked around the room as Connor finished his song and took a small bow. Your group clapped and cheered for him as Malena passed him on her way to the stage. You clapped for her too before telling Maya that you were going to go look at the huge binder full of songs.

You opened the book and began scanning through songs, already having one in mind, as it had been stuck in your head for the past week. While stuck in your own head intently searching for your song, you didn’t feel Schlatt come up next to you until he cleared his throat as a way to announce his presence. You jumped and made a squeaking noise in surprise. You looked up at him to seeing him laughing, which made you laugh too.

“You gonna sing?” He said, a smile still on his face as he looked at you questioningly.

“Mhm!” You hummed. “I’m not sure if they have it though… the words are floating all over the page…” you said, trailing off as Schlatt laughed at you again.

“What’s it called? I’ll help,” he said, leaning over you slightly to look at the pages in the dim light. You could smell beer on his breath, mixed with his cologne.

“I can’t tell you! It’s a surprise!” You insisted, looking up at him, not noticing how close you were.

He huffed a laugh, his half grin still plastered on his face as he met your gaze, leaning his hand on the stand that held the book.

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you said, hiccuping slightly as you spoke.

“Alright, then what’s the first letter? I’ll help you find the section,” he suggested, motioning back towards the book.

“L,” you said, your eyes lingering on him a moment longer as you began to notice how close you were.

He nodded and flipped to the page with the Ls.

“Let me know if you see it,” he said, slowly beginning to flip through the pages.

You nodded, and after a couple flips, you saw it.

“There!” You said, making sure not to point at the song.

He straightened and gestured towards Malena, who had just finished her song and was beginning to walk off the stage. After mumbling a thanks and smiling at him, you took a deep breath and made your way to the stage. You walked up the one step onto the small stage, seeing lasers and colorful lights spinning around the room. Waving at your friends and smiling, you punched in the name of the song, “lovefool”.

The opening notes started, and you took another deep breath. Gripping the mic, you began to sing; cautiously, you looked at the screen to make sure to not miss a word. However, as the song started to pick up, you got sucked into the beat and sang as if you were in the shower, swaying and dancing a little in place.

As the song continued, you got the courage to look up at your small crowd of friends, looking around the room before your eyes landed on Schlatt, who was looking at you with the softest, most pure smile you had ever seen on him. He gave you a thumbs up when your eyes met, and you smiled back through the words of the song.

The chorus came up again, and you didn’t take your eyes off of Schlatt. The moving lights and the upbeat song make your drunken self feel as if you were singing to only him.

“Love me, love me, say that you love me!” you sang with all your heart, winking at him quickly before dancing in a circle and continuing your performance.

As you finished, you set the mic back on the stand before taking a dramatic bow and walking off the stage. Maya and Malena fawned over your “beautiful performance”, as they dragged you to the bar to buy you a celebratory drink. Settling for a light beer, you said you would meet them back with the group, as you needed a moment to decompress a bit before joining them.

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, leaning against the wall; it was cool on your back. You felt a warm presence next to you as you opened your eyes. Turning to your left, you saw Schlatt staring straight ahead into the glass doors of your group’s private room.

You took a sip of your beer and leaned your head on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment before slowly relaxing. You sighed a little and closed your eyes.

“You did a good gob, (y/n),” he said quietly. Too quietly.

You lifted your head off his shoulder. You could see a slight blush on his cheeks, and noticed he was fidgeting with his hands a bit behind his back.

“What’s wrong, Schlatt?” You questioned, threading your arm through his.

He looked down at you softly, anxiety etched onto his face, though he tried to hide it with a smile.

“Do you really want me to say it?” He asked. Confused, you cocked your head to the side.

“What the song said,” he clarified.

It was your turn to blush as you realized what he meant. It was true, you did have a thing for him, but you had been too drunk at the time to realize the connotations of the song.

“W-well only if you mean it,” you stuttered out.

He huffed a half laugh, accompanied by a little smile.

“Fuck it, we’re both drunk we won’t remember it anyways,” he said thinking out loud. Your face dropped a little, and he noticed. “B-but that’s not to say that I don’t mean it,” he hurried out, turning to face you fully.

“I just don’t wanna fuck this up,” he said a little quieter, taking one of your hands in his.

“Schlatt, whatever you wanna say, I’m here,” you said comfortingly, giving him a gentle smile.

He smiled back at you.

“I love you. I have for a while,” he finally confessed, looking away sheepishly.

Your smile grew to a grin and you squeezed his hand, causing his eyes to slide back to meet yours. You lifted your free hand, having set your beer on the table behind you, and grazed his cheek with your fingertips. You could have sworn he shivered a little. Slowly, you began to reach up on your tip-toes. Apparently you were moving too slow, as he grabbed your waist gently and drew you closer to him, bringing his lips to yours. Your hand flattened against his cheek as the kiss deepened.

After a few moments, you both pulled back in shock of what just happened.

“I love you too,” you whispered to him, connecting your lips once more.

AHH I really hope you liked that! Let me know if you'd like to hear more from me! I've got a list of ideas ready, I just need to flesh them out! <3

PART 2 HERE

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt #schlatt #schlatt fluff #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fanfiction #jschlatt fanfiction #oneshot #Spotify

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wh0re-in-the0ry · 6 months

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I want a Mafia Boss/Criminal! Schlatt fic but its all in Jambo's and The Other Guy's tm perspective. How would this work? I have no clue, but I want it really bad.

#schlatt #jschlatt #jambo #the other guy <3 #schlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfiction #I imagine it being like way of the house husband maybe?#like its a slice of life oneshot series?#but yeaaa #if only I knew how to actually write stories lmao

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krabs-quill · 2 years

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“methinks” this idea fucking sucks ~ high school theatre au

characters: wilbur, schlatt, (next are only briefly shown) tommy, tubbo

trigger warnings: swearing

authors notes: HI THIS IS MY WRITING ALT THIS IS KRABMEAT BUTBUT HERES THE SECOND MINOR FIC PART FOR YOU @enigmaticvariation TO GO WITH THE DRAWING!!

@mcytblraufest THANKYOU FOR THIS WONDERFUL EVENT ILYSM THIS WAS SUCH A FUCKING BLASY AHHHHH TYSMMM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wouldn’t be able to tell that Schlatt is in his sophomore year while Wilbur is in his junior year. Their personalities vastly different; Wilbur acting with the carefreeness of a younger student, contrary to Schlatt who seemed to carry a casual look of exhaustion and fatigue like the majority of the finals, SAT and ACT-stressed juniors. Wilbur being a flamboyant member of the theatre club, while Schlatt spends most of his time in the school's computer science room, occasionally doing backstage work for the theatre club's plays and musicals as a means to get extra credit.

That’s how the two know each other- not really through extravagant meetings, or trials and tribulations of growing their friendship to be the best of buddies, hell, they wouldn’t even consider each other friends! Or, Schlatt at least wouldn’t. Wilbur goes out of his way to make futile attempts to get Schlatt in the practice runs of the upcoming plays. Usually rejected requests. Usually.

“Wilbur, listen to yourself, buddy,” Schlatt quipped, “out of all the times I’ve rejected you- all the times I’ve rejected you with every SINGLE character you’ve asked me to act out for you- and you think that fucking JULIET is someone I’d even CONSIDER doing? Really, Wilbur? Really?”

Schlatt looks at Wilbur, deadpanning as he rubs the side of his face in frustration. Wilbur, however, has a mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh, come on Schlatt! Just ONE scene, please? Our Juliet is busy volunteering as a teacher's aid right now and we NEED to get this act down by next week! Please, man- just this once?” Wilbur pleaded, falling on the deaf ears of Schlatt, that of which was busy listening to the discrepancy of his reasoning.

“If you guys need to get the script down by next week then why do I have to help with the lines?! Shouldn’t you wait for your Juliet then if that’s the case?”

The bickering and debate went on for a good few minutes until Schlatt eventually caved after being offered a crisp 20 dollar bill from Wilbur. Out of the times the two have talked, Wilbur just so happened to pick up on Schlatts love for money as well as his lack of it. (He happened to apply at the same butcher shop Schlatt works at and saw the $5 an hour he was making. He didn’t get the job, by the way.)

“Farewell! I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee.” Wilbur holds his hand out musingly before dramatically clutching his heart, nodding his head solemnly to Schlatt. Schlatt grumbles at Wilbur, mumbling “right, and you just had to be fuckin Romeo, too…” before grabbing the script with a sloppy hand. His eyes look down at the small print, squinting while reading aloud.

“O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?” Schlatt's voice is monotone, voice inflections set to a minimum. He struggles with the pronunciation of “think’st”, redoing it a few times before finishing the sentence.

“I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our time to come.” His eyes flutter as he delivers his line, a sweet smile as he awaits for Schlatt to respond in- hopefully- an equally matched delivery this time.

“O God, I have an ill-divining soul! Methinks I see- oh come ON Wilbur! ‘Methinks’?! That is the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard, I'm not doing this!” Schlatt scolded, throwing his hands up in the air and squeezing the script in his hand. Wilbur sighs, slightly tired of having to convince him again, but nonetheless he persists.

“No, you have to! If not, I suppose I’ll just take back my 20 then? If you aren’t going to fulfill your part of the deal, of course!” In response, Schlatt can only groan in annoyance while muttering incomprehensible words under his breath. He smooths out his script and begrudgingly continues on with the act. Wilbur grins contently as he gets back into character.

Unbeknownst to the pair onstage, there seems to be two figures peering in from the outside of the theatre room. The taller blonde peeks his head in above the shorter brunette. They both squint.

“Oi, Tommy, isn’t that your brother Wilbur? What’s he doing with that guy? I’ve seen him in the computer science room before but I never caught his name,” Tubbo questions,

“Hey, your answers as good as mine, pal. He’s talked about him at home sometimes, that’s Schlatt. Don’t know why he’s made him be Juliet, though. Seems like he’d make a decent Capulet.”

#tw caps #krabs kreates #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt au #not an x reader #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt fanfiction

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rabbitsrams · 6 months

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snowy mornings - jschlatt x reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, teensy bit suggestive at the end :)

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: its not even close to winter but i wrote most of this in one sitting so enjoy hehe

(moodboard by me, pictures not mine)

The sun barely peeks past the clouds. Small sprinkles of snow are still falling from the gray sky as Schlatt leaves the house.

He's all bundled up. He's wearing at least four layers underneath his coat, something his mother always insisted he do. A hat that you got him as a gift is snug on his head and thermal gloves he's had since he was sixteen keep his hands warm.

He looks through one of the windows of the house as he walks to the sidewalk, knowing you are still sleeping. He wishes he could be back in bed with you. Wishes he could have you in his arms. Wishes he was wrapped in blankets with you by his side as the heater warms the room.

But he's got a shovel in his hand, carrying the thing over his shoulder while he goes to the corner of the block, freezing his ass off even through all the layers.

His poor neighbors, elderly and helpless. They always thanked him whenever he shoveled for them, asking their children to come over and bring him some baked goods once the afternoon came. He didn't do it for some reward or anything, he knew some fucker would try to fall on their unshoveled property and “sue them for all they're worth,” as he told you one time. He just wanted to help them out and make sure their pathways were cleared.

He forgot to bring headphones out, so instead of blasting King Krule and Radiohead, he listened to the scraping of the metal against the concrete. The scraping that echoed throughout the entire block, likely waking light sleepers from their slumber. You were one of those light sleepers, and yet you stayed asleep.

It was taxing going around the corner and back to his house to clear pathways for walkers alike. His neighbors would do it as well but in due time. They weren't early risers like he was. But only in the winter.

Memories of his father waking him and his brother up at ungodly hours to shovel after overnight blizzards crashed their way into New York. Those mornings were silent as well; it was like the grating scraping was music to his father's ears.

He managed to complete all the shoveling in less than an hour, his personal record.

Quickly walking back up the driveway as the sun completely rose, he placed the shovel against the garage and went back inside, shivering and stomping the snow out of his boots.

He yawned as he took his hat off. He placed it on the flat part of the handrail, looking at how the snow immediately started to melt into the fur. The gloves were next, he was shocked his fingers weren't completely numb. Then the jacket, also hastily hung next to yours, untouched since yesterday. The boots were left right by the door to be moved later as he walked up the stairs and to the bedroom where he discarded the extra layers.

He didn't see you stir as he entered the room. Even in your tired state, you could tell he was out of bed. You opened your eyes and saw him undressing, remaining in an old t-shirt from his father's college days and flannel pajama bottoms you often coveted.

You stretch, yawning softly. That gets his attention. He walks toward the bed and wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You're shocked awake by how cold his nose is.

“You're so warm...” he says, your neck muffling his words.

“Baby, you're freezing,” you hum as you pull him into bed with you. “Did you go out and shovel?”

“I always do.”

“Aww...” you kiss him on the cheek as you wrap the blanket around him. “You're so good.”

He hums a response, cuddling close to you. He holds you tight against him, wrapping his limbs around you in an awkward manner.

“You are too fucking tall.” You joke.

“And you are too fucking beautiful,” He kisses your neck many times. “And warm.”

“Go back to sleep, honey. You need to rest.”

“'S long as I can hold you in my arms like this, I'll sleep forever.”

You giggle, your laughter turning into a soft yawn. “Even when you're tired as shit you're still corny...” Your eyes close as you begin to stroke his hair.

He wakes before you once more five hours later. Your hand is still resting on the side of his head while the hand where your wedding ring rests is closer to his face.

He shifts slightly so he can have a better view of you. Your mouth is slightly agape as you breathe, your nose too stuffed for you to breathe through it properly. He can see the gap between your two front teeth, something that makes your smile all the more beautiful.

You eventually wake to the sight of your husband watching you. He’s smiling softly, tiredness still present in his eyes. “Hey, you all warmed up?”

“I am… you’re so pretty…” He lays his head on your chest. You smile, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go get something,” You say as you try to get out of bed. He tries to grab you and bring you back to bed. “Just give me ten minutes, fifteen at most.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You come back ten minutes later with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He’s sitting up at this point, a hand running through his messy hair. He smiles when he smells the steaming beverage and reaches his arms out as you place it on the bedside table. You get back into bed and snuggle close to him as he blows on the drink.

“You remembered the marshmallows…” Schlatt says, a yawn obstructing his words.

“Of course I did.” You say. He laughs softly and wraps an arm around you. He tries to take a sip of the hot chocolate but hisses in pain as it burns his tongue.

“Aw, fuck.”

“Burns?”

“Yeah,” Schlatt waves a hand in front of his open mouth to try and ease the pain.

“Want me to kiss it better?” You joke. He nods, leaning close to you. You grin as you cup his face in your hands, the hair on his muttonchops tickling your palms. You press your lips to his softly, letting out a soft noise of surprise when he slides his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. He tastes like hot chocolate and home.

When you pull away, his face is tinted red. “All better?” You ask, feeling your face heat up.

“Um…” Schlatt pretends to think for a moment. “I don’t think so.” He tugs at the hem of your, his, sleep shirt.

“Oh… well I definitely need to do something about that.” You raise your arms above your head and allow him to take the garment off before leaning in once again.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt imagine #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fluff #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfiction

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espresso-lessdepresso · 1 year

Text

fluff

t/w: Distrust/Suspension, descriptive kiss and make out.

a/n:....so im alive and my exams didn't kill me ^^. but it did take me half a month to actually post something soooo~ anyways, I hope everyone is doing well and enjoy! This has been sitting in my drafts since November I feel like it could still be better but i don't know how T-T

Away from the chaos and social ramble of the Christmas gathering, Schlatt escaped into a faraway room on the second floor which happened to look like a small study. The walls adjacent to the door were lined with ceiling-length bookshelves, deep mahogany in colour, and in between one of the shelves was a fireplace. Dividing the room into two, there was an area for sitting, with a couch and coffee table in front of the fireplace, and there was an area for writing which had a large desk opposite to the couches. The balcony was visible through the sliding glass doors, it had upon it a thick layer of untouched snow.

It was easily brought to Schlatt's attention that even this room was not safe from holiday decoration; garlands lined the tops of the bookcases and alternating green and red stockings hung on the deck of the fireplace. The centre coffee table was decorated with for-show gift boxes wrapped in various colours. Even the scent of sugary Christmas treats and savoury snacks managed to sneak into the room.

Quietness filled the room, for the most part, Schlatt could only hear the low chatter of everyone speaking downstairs since most of it was drowned.

Though the holiday season was joyous and everyone gathered happily to mingle with one another, Schlatt found himself standing alone in the room farthest from everyone. There seemed to be a recurrence of Schlatt's tight-lipped frown and furrowed brows.

Standing turned into pacing.

And with pacing followed the feeling of uneasiness and doubt.

Schlatt was thinking, once again for the nth time this month, about you.

Your sly flirting and paying special attention towards Schlatt had not gone unnoticed. Your attempts had planted a seed of curiosity in him which slowly but surely blossomed into fondness. He himself was pleasantly surprised by this. Flattered even to the point of catching himself smiling like an idiot at the prospect of what could happen and where it could lead.

But these thoughts were short-lived as his mind too quickly was plagued with distrust.

Schlatt was deep in thought, trying to detangle his pasts from his present while staring out into the heavy snowfall. The wind carried the snow in fluffy white swirls. The door handle turned and he wasn't sure if you were the last person he wanted to see or the first. His thoughts were like a ball of yarn that fell prey to Jambo's paws.

"Hey."

Schlatt only nodded back at you, taking notice of the two mugs that you were holding and carefully walked in with.

"Not liking the party?" You asked, handing him a red mug of hot chocolate. The mug was piled with marshmallows and he distinctly remembered that there was a shortage of marshmallows in the kitchen. You must've saved some for him or gone to the extent of going out and buying some. Schlatt's fingers ever so slightly grazed yours and you wanted to make it last as long as you could, taking a step towards him... but within a split second, he retrieved his hand back awkwardly. He averted his attention to the books on the shelf.

Schlatt was wearing his usual clothes; a black sweatshirt with beige pants and white sneakers. He looked the furthest from having a festive spirit. His chestnut hair never failed to look soft, even when going through another phase of change.

Your gaze on him was gentle, done without realising it. Every time you looked at him, his features would captivate your attention; the way he’d fold his arms, furrowed his brows or the way his bottom lip would pout sometimes. Though it is impossible, you would admire him for hours if you could. Schlatt had somehow gotten used to it, the feeling of your eyes trained on him. He could almost always tell whenever you were looking at him. "What are you trying to do?" he asked, breaking the quiet.

Giving him a questioning look, your brows knit as you slightly shook your head. "What am I trying to do?"

"You know," Schlatt turned, "Your advances. Your sudden change in behaviour and your particular attention to me."

"Are they… unwelcomed?"

His face felt warm at the question. Schlatt huffed out in what seemed to be annoyance, "And that. All that endless teasing or whatever it is."

"I thought I was a bit more subtle with it but I guess..." You said more to yourself than him, shrugging in slight embarrassment. You placed your mug of hot chocolate down on the table and took a step closer to him. With the balcony to your side, you felt the slight chill of the weather passing through the glass doors. "So? Are you going to do anything with that information?"

The small curl of your lips made Schlatt's eyes narrow. The gaze they held- or rather the glare, was broken for a split second, looking away from you to the side. When his eyes drew back, you first thought that you saw anger in them but you quickly found it to be frustration. Indecisiveness even. "A fling? Like, is that what you're looking for?

"I'm actually not." You said, taken aback by his words. But not shaken. Have your actions not written everything out by now? You leaned on the glass door with your shoulder, the cold pressing through your sweater. "You think I'm a fling type of person?"

Schlatt again looked at you, between your eyes from left to right and back. Really searching for something. "I'm just...being careful."

"I'm looking for a lot more than just a fling." Sighing, you felt dejected. "I was." You tried to approach him slowly and revealed your likeness by one small fraction at a time. But for whatever reason, his walls seemed to only stand taller and guarded heavily. Looking down, your hope was slipping. With now a cold shoulder, you leaned off of the door to leave the room as well as Schlatt.

But catching you by surprise, Schlatt stepped in front of you. Not only did he block your path to the door but he had you standing between the glass door and himself, leaving as little as a few inches between you two. Schlatt raised one hand towards you and instinctively you took another step back and bumped into the glass. His fingers brushed against your hair as he plucked something out of it.

The absolute closeness and the tension of it had your nerves. Be it the way he looked at you or the pent-up longing you had harboured for him, words escaped your lips before you could stop them. "My feelings for you are genuine Schlatt. They," Your heart was beating up your throat "... are as exactly as I've shown them."

Held between his index finger and thumb was a red berry. You get caught off guard by it. Schlatt looked up and you followed his gaze. There were green branches, adorning long thin leaves and ruby red berries. Tied to the frame of the balcony door by a shimmering red ribbon was a small bouquet of mistletoe.

Without taking your eyes away from the berry caught between his fingers, you spoke, "Do I still have to say more?"

Your anticipation silenced and the distance between the two of you finally closed. His lips on yours were gentle. They barely even pressed down on yours. The timidness showed through as his hands remained where they were, even though they wanted to lace with yours or hang around your waist. It was as though he was testing the waters- making sure you were okay with this. Making sure he was okay with this. Schlatt looked for signs of discomfort, whether you wanted to stop, step back, or perhaps rethink your likeness of him. But you didn't. Eyes closed and hand moving to his chest on its own accord. You kissed him back, just as gently as he did.

Soft.

His lips were unusually soft. Yes you had imagined that they would be so but to actually feel them for the first time, your mind had stopped working. All you would focus on was the pressure of him on you.

Schlatt, having initiated the kiss first, was also the first to pull away. His habit of staring at you- into you, did not seem to cease. Looking into your eyes, looking for something- anything that could possibly hint or prove his suspicions to be true. But staring back at him was just you. You and your dilated pupils drawn on him showed only trust and honest intentions.

“If you try anything-” Schatt started.

“-Nothing you wouldn’t like.” your small voice retorted before he could finish. Your teasing once again brought out the redness of his face, along with your own this time. In a swift motion, Schlatt’s hand moved to flatten against the door with a thud. With his hand right next to your head, you felt even more enclosed than before. You had a way of getting on his nerves, without even trying

There was another beat of silence that filled the room. Schlatt remained in the same position, and so did you. Standing in each other's space, you were almost sharing the same breath. You had not realised but this single small kiss made your chest heave. You continued to heaven as you stared into Schlatt’s eyes. With such closeness, you swore they were a type of brown you had never seen. Unique and so deep, you felt being pulled into them.

Just then, slicing into the thick silence, a voice called out from you. One of your friends was looking for you and you could hear their footsteps in the hallway from inside the room. They were looking for you to help them with something.

Your attention diverted, you were about to call back to the voice, saying that you’ll be there just in a minute. But before you could do so, your lips were drawn and sealed with Schlatt’s. Again. What was different this time was that he did not hold back. That timidness he showed before had gone… It was replaced with some sort of fire.

The voice drifted away.

Schlatt pulled at you. Your voice of surprise was muffled by the way he kissed you. Your noses pressed into each other's faces. Taking another step forward, Schlatt had your back pressed on the glass. A shiver crawled up your back and you pushed away from it, in turn pressing into Schlatt’s broad figure. The hand beside your head cupped your face and his other hand finally got to hang on your waist. Your own hands were sitting on his shoulder and the nape of his neck. The way he led the kiss showed no signs of timidness. He led it with intention, lacking no passion.

A sort of fire kindled within him.

The heavy snowfall settled and the wind ceased to howl. Outside, past the glass doors of the balcony, the night sky was sprinkled with stars and the ground below, a blanket of white snow layed untouched. The weather would continue to be crisp and cold, but with what you ignited within Schlatt, you would be kept warm throughout your winter.

++++++

Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.

masterlist

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfiction #schlattfanfic #schlatt fanfiction #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #jschlatt imagine #schlatt imagine #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader

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probablylia0 · 10 months

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fwb roommate schlatt wearing a compression shirt... pls this man has me in a chokehold

hes just walking out of his room and you see him from the couch and cant take your eyes off him

"fuck me right now"

"what did you say?"

"i said fuck me on this god damn couch you moron"

OMGGG😍😍 Just staring at him while you hold your phone in your hand and maybe taking a couple pictures 👀👀

“Why’re are you starin’ at me..?” Schlatt said slightly squinting at you. “Cause your hot.” You blurted out. “What-“ “Huh?” There was a small awkward silence until Schlatt spoke up, “Were you taking photo’s of me..?” Schlatt said quietly slowly walking toward you and standing in front of you, and looking down at you sitting on the couch. “No…” You said quietly. He raised his eyebrows at you and smirked before pointing at the dark window behind you that was reflecting your phone screen, with the camera app open. You turned around and as soon as you saw the reflection you immediately turned off the phone and put it face down on your chest. “i don’t know what your talking about.” You said maintaining eye contact. He placed his hand next to your head on the couch cushion before leaning in and glancing at your lips. “If you wanted me so bad sugar, you could’ve just asked..”

just in case you dont know what a compression shirt is its this!! ⬇️⬇️

#jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt fanfiction

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ohworm-writes · 10 months

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*taps mic* uhm- *ear piercing mic feedback* ow- owch, uhm, sorry *coughs* uh- *pull at collar and wipes sweat from forehead*

Uh- fireman schlatt?

*the crowd goes silent* *the crowd turns and stared at eachother* *the crowd awkwardly claps and coughs*

*i leave*

#that’s my only interesting idea for the week #schlatt but he’s apart of the NYFD #and then some of his friends/the people he interacts with are his fireman buddies #send me some asks I would like to talk about this #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfiction #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfiction

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sorceriee · 23 days

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tides

it’s 2:26 am where i live and i miss jay. so…

schlatt who’s obsessed w reader’s scent !!!

he’ll ask you to lay down and snuggle up w him, sit on his lap and look pretty or maybe even to get in the car for a little drive.

him buying you perfume every now and then when you take mall trips together :3

no matter what, you’ll always end up in his arms — and this leads to him kissing your neck, head, lips…but he will always take a whiff of your scent. and if you had a change of brand for shampoo or perfume, he would be able to tell.

he inhaled sharply as you stopped walking along the shore, in his big arms. your back was flat against his chest as you stared at the tides…and you’d guessed he’s sensed the new perfume you wore — the one he bought for you yesterday. it smelt sweet, but had hints of a muskier scent.

“mm, doll — i get why you wanted that one now. ya smell so good.” he smiles. this makes you giggle slightly.

“thank you jay. i love you,” he pecks you on the cheek.

“no problem. love you too.”

also…

him resting his head in your neck during missionary/when you ride him so he can catch your scent.

love, mildew. <3

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theloneliestbiscuit · 2 years

Text

they wouldn’t be gone.

a little angsty guy based on this silly country song I love right now.

cw: swearing (obvs) breakup sadness, schlatt does throw up from anxiety once. they/them pronouns used 1.9k words teehee, enjoy :)

“Schlatt, I just can’t do this anymore.” Tears welled up in the corners of their eyes, their normally vibrant hue clouded by what could only be described as grief.

“What do you mean? You’re just giving up on us?” “I’m not giving up on anything, I’m sick of this relationship being completely one sided! I’ve tried, so hard to break down your walls, let you know that you can trust me. But no matter what, you keep me at arms length. I’ve given you everything I have!” The tense silence was almost palpable, settling on his shoulders. Mouth dry, tongue tied as every rational sentence disappeared from his frontal cortex and into the abyss that was opening up deep in his chest. It was akin to drowning, the absolute terror that rips through your body as you realize that this could be your last moments. Water fills your lungs, the salt burning your throat as you keep gulping mouthfuls of water, limbs thrashing in search of anything to grab onto. Darkness creeps into your field of vision as the struggle slows, burning panic flooding through you, and in these final moments, you know that you are going to die.

Schlatt died that day.

The blank look plastered across his face could be easily interpreted as lack of care, the waves pulling him into the darkness only visible to him. They didn’t try to hide the look of hurt that flashed across their face. “Bye, Schlatt.” Tears flowed freely down their face, a sob escaping their lips as they pushed past him, heading for the door. The subtle contact was enough to pull his head above water. “Wait, doll, please!” Schlatt’s fingers curled around their wrist, his vision blurring as he tried to blink away the hot tears brimming his eyes. The look on their face sent him back into the darkness, betrayal, hurt dancing across their features. A pout rested upon their lips instead of their normal radiant smile. Knowing that he caused this, the tears cascading down their soft features like rain drops sliding down the windows- It tore him to pieces. “I’m-” The words died in his throat, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend but please stay with me’ ? They didn’t deserve this, someone unable to properly show them just how loved and appreciated they truly are .They deserved better than him. “I’m sorry for-” He tried to clear the lump in his throat. “-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He stammered, eyes locked with the floor as he fought to find the right words. They turned to face him completely, gently grasping his face between their hands. His facial hair tickling their palms. He closed his eyes and leaned into the hold, praying that this wouldn’t be the last time he was graced with their comforting touch. “Schlatt. Look at me, honey.” His eyes fluttered open, having to tilt his head down a bit to be able to make eye contact. Their face was still wet with salty tears, a ghost of a smile danced across their lips. “I love you.” “I love y-” “But I can’t stay. I can't do this to myself anymore. I’m sorry.”

“God damn it!” Schlatt’s phone bounced onto the passenger seat as their voicemail played for the 15th time today. He knew he shouldn’t be driving, he should be laying across the couch, cuddled up with his lover watching some cheesy movie that they picked out together. “-please leave a message!” He reached over and jammed the end call button before he embarrassed himself further. His brain tortured him with the replays of the past few months, every happy memory taunting him, their laugh bouncing around his head. He could even hear their voice playing in the back of his head. Telling him not to drive angry, to pull over and calm down. Honey, don’t do anything irrational. Honey. The word would normally bring a small smile to his face, a comforting warmth spreading out from his chest all the way to the tips of his fingers. Now they just left a sickening, bitter sweet taste in his mouth. Stomach turning, nauseating waves of sadness wracked through his body, tumbling him over rocks and pulling him under the surface. What he wouldn’t do to hear that pretty little voice next to him, the ghost of a sentence brushing the shell of his ear. Goosebumps speckle his arms as the phantom touch of hands gently wrapping around his bicep, giving a light squeeze. The engine roared as the speedometer pushed 95mph, trees blurring into meaningless shapes, if that was due to the speed or the tears coating his face he couldn't tell. This was all his fault and he knew it, they warned him that if things didn’t change they were leaving. He didn’t want to believe that they would really walk out on him, not after all this time. Schlatt’s phone ringing pulled him out of his haze, scrambling to accept the call before it went to voicemail. “Hello?” God, he sounded pathetic. “Schlatt, buddy.” Ted’s voice echoed through the speakers, causing Schlatt to deflate just a bit. Of course it wasn’t them calling, but he couldn’t help the speckle of hope that sent his heart soaring when the phone rang. He cleared his throat, trying to push the lump down. “What's up? How are you?” Silence stretched between them for several seconds before Ted spoke again. “I’m sorry about the breakup, man. I know how much they meant to you.” Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Of course they told Ted. “Have you seen them? Heard from them?” When Ted didn’t answer immediately, Schlatt couldn’t help the strangled cry that ripped from his throat, fist slamming down on the middle console of his car “God damn it Ted! I’m your fucking friend too!” Instant regret flooded his system, the same waves of nausea quickly overtaking the anger, he could’ve sworn the road doubled in his vision as his stomach turned. “Schlatt.” Ted sighed after a long pause. Schlatt could barely hear his friend as he desperately looked for the offramp of the highway, bile bubbling up his esophagus. “You are my friend, someone I would even consider my best friend.” He wasn’t going to make it to the next gas station, he could taste the bile in his mouth. Horns blared behind him as he cut across a lane of traffic. “But they are my best friend too, I don’t want to be dragged into this to play referee.” The brakes squealed as he came to a sudden stop on the side of the exit. Ted said something along the lines of “what the hell was that!” But Schlatt didn't have time to decipher exactly what had tumbled out of his friend's mouth. He barely had time to grab his phone and circle the hood before vomiting into the grass. After what felt like years of retching and dry heaving, his stomach finally settled. His back hit the passenger door as he tried to regain his composure, a glob of spit being shot into the grass. The putrid taste stung his taste buds. “I’m sorry for snapping at you Ted, but I-” He raked a hand through his hair, chestnut strands tangling around his fingers. “I fucked up. Royally.” “I know.” Silence. Wind from passing cars swept the grass in waves, the sun beating down on the tar black asphalt, sending swells of heat underneath the car. It was miserable, but after everything, Schlatt felt like he deserved a little misery for everything he put them through. How he could be so stupid! So damn stupid. Tears threatened to spill again as he tried to furiously rub them away, exhaling a shaky breath. Willing his mind to please stop with all the hate filled words directed at himself, he knows he fucked up, okay? He doesn’t need a constant- “They’re at my house.” He almost didn’t hear Ted. Blinking, he tried to process the words that just flowed out of the speakers. “WHAT?” Schlatt shouted down the phone, scrambling to get up and back into the car. “They’re at your house?!” Sliding behind the steering wheel, he fumbled the key for a couple seconds before successfully jamming it into the ignition, the ignition roaring to life. “Why didn’t you tell-” He was cut off by Ted’s voice spilling through the speakers.

“I’m going to the store, you have until I get back to talk to them. Don’t fuck it up.” The familiar beep beep signaling the end of the call was all he needed to throw the gear into drive and press the pedal to the floor. He was maybe 15 minutes from Ted’s, not including traffic. Schlatt made it there in 7 minutes. Thank God he learned how to drive in New York. He skidded to a stop in front of Ted’s apartment complex, mentally noting to move his car out of the parking spot technically reserved for ‘residents only’. Sliding out of the driver seat, he threw the door closed, gaining a dirty look from some broad walking her little fru-fru dog. If he hadn’t been on a mission to get the love of his life back, he might’ve done a little more than just roll his eyes and take off towards the stairwell. His footsteps echoed off the walls of the staircase as he flew up the stairs, taking two at a time. Quietly cursing Ted for living so damn high up in his stupid, fancy L.A. apartment with the stupid slow elevator and the stupid fucking parking lot that never had any good parking. Who would even decide living on the 5th floor was a good idea? God I’m out of shape. He thought as he reached the threshold of his friend's floor. He wanted to take a few minutes to catch his breath, compose himself and think of something actually useful, a good apology even. But the adrenaline and anxiety tangoed together in his system, a devilish dance of nausea and energy assaulted him. His body moved without a second though, every step felt so agonizingly slow, like his limbs were being weighed down with lead. His insides felt like they were on fire, shame and regret piercing every single organ they could get their dirty little hands on. Ripping into his heart, causing an ache so deep he thought he might just die of a broken heart, right here in the hallway. And honestly, that would be so much easier than this. God was absolutely taking the piss out of him right now. Schlatt knew he looked like a fucking mess to say the least, eyes red and puffy from crying. His throat burned from the crying, screaming, and the mishap on the side of the highway. If anyone else saw him like this, stopped and asked him if he was doing alright, he wouldn't’ even know where to begin.

His heart launched itself directly into his stomach as Ted’s door came into view, and for a split second, he thought that maybe this was a bad idea. They left for a reason, why would they want to see him again so soon? The stark white door loomed in front of him, renewing his previous bout of soul shattering anxiety. Shaking hands hovered about the doorknob, he sharply sucked in a breath, forcing himself to open the door and step into the apartment. Schlatt couldn’t see anyone at first, his shoulders sagging as the realization that they probably left before he got there. He missed his chance. Now this is really God taking the piss-

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice ringing out through the apartment. “Hi Schlatt.”

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