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#why would you ever ask this of course he did
rxmye · 2 days
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" 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 "
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𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — you're his entire world, his only thought, the very illness that has corrupted his mind and body . . .
gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / mentions of sleep medication / pathetic yandere / suggestive content / a character slightly aimed towards people with a savior complex
masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: a dude named Lucas is mentioned here . . he'll be published as a yandere later on . . also this is my first fic on this blog <3 !!
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He was someone with fleeting attraction—yet a hopeless romantic, who'd spend most of his class time doodling away in his notebook instead of taking actual notes, writing these scenarios that played out in his mind—tired hazy doodles of small characters, blurry lines of writing, scribbled out text, as he struggled to stay awake—
He had never had a proper sleeping schedule, and if he did he'd never stick to it, a night owl who often faced the consequences of his own actions, sleep medication was something he was all too familiar with, the feeling of being restless without sleep, his nerves always on edge, dark circles under his eyes made him feel insecure, and alarmingly out of character.
He felt something touch his back, he froze, nerves all over the place, a pit growing in his stomach as he turned almost instinctively to face whoever touched him, pushing their hand off harshly . . . "Hey Yoichi . . what's up with you man, why so aggressive?!" Lucas asked . . and then he froze, letting out a nervous and rather embarrassed chuckle, "Ah—um . . sorry Lucas . . just feeling a little tired that's all", he replied softly, voice barely coming out.
To be quite honest, when he first saw you, Yoichi thought nothing of it, he sat at the very back and you for some reason, sat in front of him, not that he minds, you're presence covered him from the teachers eyesight, which allowed him to do whatever he wanted, he was even able to drift off to sleep during that period.
However, it wasn't until he found himself, drawing tiny versions of you in his notebook, little doodles, pink ink staining the paper as he hearted your initials together—his name then your last name . . your name then his last name . . . names of future children—that he realized he was crushing on you . . . big time.
His emotions was fleeting, it had always been, he didn't think much of it . . it was just a simple crush, everyone has one of those, and they go away with time.
Yoichi was a punctual student—and a well organized one—he'd rarely forget his books, much less the notebook with his embarrassing doodles of him and you, it would ruin his image to be quite honest . . yet for some reason he had forgotten it in class today, it could've been his ever-growing restlessness due to a lack of sleep, or maybe the caffeine that's been fucking with his head since early in the morning—he sighed—knocking himself out of his own thoughts, as he twisted the doorknob, hopefully the teacher left the class unlocked.
The door was open, to his utter relieve . . . wait . . . "y/n?", he spoke, taken aback—you were soundly asleep on your desk—you looked so at . . peace . . . calm? . . . Nothing could describe the emotions he felt as he approached you, slowly reaching over to his desk and grabbing his notebook, quickly stuffing it in his backpack—he should go . . , that would be the best course of action . . .
Yet he couldn't . . . he knelt down on the floor, leaning his head on the desk, starring at your face, looking into every curve and line, in his eyes every imperfection just made you even more perfect, the pattern of your breath was soothing to his otherwise restless mind, a soothing scent radiated off of you, and for the first time in months, he felt sleepy . . . like he could sleep without a care . . . everything felt so right. . .—nothing felt displaced or disoriented.
That was the day that started it all, it seems, Yoichi had started forming something that was akin to obsession, he couldn't sleep at all without you—a piece of you—something that reminded him of that calming scent that he felt that day, you calmed his overdriven nerves, you halted his troubles for more than a fleeting moment.
Yoichi knew what he was doing was odd, especially when he found himself picking up the wrapper you threw out, and taking inhaling it, his eyes growing half lidded—he felt like a drug addict—drunk off of you . .
Fleeting touches would tick off his ever delusional mind, a small compliment could set him on overdrive and in the back of his head he knew he was growing addicted, a pit in his stomach grew as he felt slightly disgusted with himself, with the obscene and rather degrading things he'd do, just to get something touched by you.
Lucas stared at his friend, who seemed no better than dead, "Are ya' okay?" he asked, looking him up and down, "You look like a train-wreck", he stated half out of concern and half out of clear disdain and possibly curiosity, "Is it normal?", Yoichi spoke up, taking a gulp of air as he continued, "to want someone so badly that it's hard to explain—like—a part of me feels obsessed, like I feel like carving my own heart out and showing them just to prove my love wont be enough—they could claw out my fingernails—and from where I'm standing, I'd still look at them with only love . . . but at the same time I feel disgusted with the feelings I feel—", Yoichi kept blabbering on, until his friend shushed him, taking a sip of his drink as he jokingly replied, "I mean . . if you love them that much, then their clearly the one . . ."
Yoichi blanked out, as Lucas chuckled, he has no idea how much of his teasing words Yoichi would take to heart that day nor of it's lasting consequences . . .
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@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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fawnindawn · 3 days
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the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)
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Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.
pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader
Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff
masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!
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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."
"I told you, I don't know anything, and even if I did, patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.
Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.
Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.
Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.
It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had somehow been brought into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence in your cabin.
Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.
"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."
Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they ended up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from it's bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.
Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?
You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.
The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.
"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.
He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.
"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."
With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.
"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.
"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.
You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.
You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.
"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.
After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."
You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.
You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.
"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"
You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.
Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"
He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.
You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.
His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how it your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.
"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."
Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.
Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.
You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"
He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."
He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."
You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"
You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.
"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"
"I do not."
"Do too."
"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."
"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"
"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.
"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."
"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."
"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."
"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."
Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.
"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.
"What?"
"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."
Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.
"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar of my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.
You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."
"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."
He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.
You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.
"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."
"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."
Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?
Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.
"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.
"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”
He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.
"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.
"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."
He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."
You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."
He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"
"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."
"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."
"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"
"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.
"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."
"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."
You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"
He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"What are you smiling about?"
You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.
"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."
"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."
He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."
You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.
"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."
He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."
You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.
a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.
taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina
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canthelpit0 · 2 days
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Fake?
Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader
Word count : 3.2k +
Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..
Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.
(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)
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Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.
You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.
You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.
Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.
You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.
You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You hadn’t known what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.
How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.
Obviously you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt it was different.
He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally he seemed the most mysterious.
Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?
Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watch him move around.
Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.
“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.
“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”
Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.
People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.
So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.
You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.
“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.
“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.
Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.
“Okay” you give in. Because of course you do. This is your long time best friend. You can never say no to him.
He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.
“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.
“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.
“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.
“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.
In a rush of boldness you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets ontop of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.
It’s a sweet normal kiss, there is no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.
Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”
“Just let them think we’re dating too, im pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.
He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re laying snuggled up in his arms.
★ ★ ★
So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.
At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.
You were also a YouTuber and tiktoker now. Except you post whenever you want to.
You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt’s girlfriend.
You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.
People believe you’re dating. Wich was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.
Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.
But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, be close to each other.
It was almost like you were actually dating.
And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.
You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.
Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.
“Matt.”
He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.
“Mhm?” He hums in response.
“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.
He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.
“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”
That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.
“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.
He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.
He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.
He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you in kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.
You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.
You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating for what he’ll do next.
“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.
Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.
“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.
He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.
You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.
Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiles fondly like this was all he was waiting for all his life.
“You’re so gorgeous.“
He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.
“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.
Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.
As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.
“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.
“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.
“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.
“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.
You groan dramatically. “Matt”
The way Matt looks between your things like that, only serves to make you even wetter.
He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off, and throws them across the room. Being careful not to put any pressure on you.
He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.
He also threw that across the room.
You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.
Matts eyes lock on your chest
He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.
“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.
You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.
“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.
He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.
“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.
You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.
Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.
His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.
You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.
Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.
“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.
His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.
His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.
He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.
You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.
“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.
“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.
You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.
And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.
In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.
That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.
“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.
His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.
The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.
You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.
You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.
“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.
“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.
And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.
Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.
“You can move” you mumble under your breath.
“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.
And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.
“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.
Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman who he cares for.
“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show, or meant platonically.
But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.
“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.
He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admited.
Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.
“I love you too”
He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.
“Do you?” You breathe out.
Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.
“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.
His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.
“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”
“I’m all yours, princess”
And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.
It just felt so intimate and loving.
He leans down again his lips capturing yours.
You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.
One of his hands move to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.
He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.
“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.
“Please”
He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.
The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.
You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- wich it is.
His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans wich sent tingles to your core.
He sounds so good.
Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.
“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.
You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.
“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.
You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.
“Let go for me.”
As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.
He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.
“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he does it anyway.
As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.
His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.
He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warm and closure of his body.
He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.
He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.
“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.
After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly as to not hurt you.
He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.
“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.
Masterlist
(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols
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Note
so I was going over your overlord husk posts and found the one where he's paired up with a nanny reader. and I thought, oh, what about a Lucifer x nanny reader?
like instead of Lilith leaving when Charlie was older, she left when she was a small child? and Lucifer being too busy with royal duties, hires a nanny to look after Charlie?
A/n: 👀👀, I feel like Lucifer would fall in love sooo fast the moment he see's how close you and Charlie are.
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With Lilith leaving, Lucifer did his best to take care of Charlie but of course nothing ever came easy. It got to hard, to overwhelming and that is why he hired you.
He didn't think much of you, the man barely spoke with you since he was so busy with work but when he did have the time to meet with you he was surprised by how kind you were and as long as Charlie was happy than he was happy too.
Anything for his little princess.
He was working late one night when he heard the laughter of his daughter. His curiosity couldn't help but take hold of him a he left his office, following the sound of the laughter the man stopped in his tracks as once he spotted you.
His heart racing in his chest spotting you playing with Charlie, the little girl clinging tightly to you as you spun her around the room. Tilting his head to the side a soft smile formed on his lips though his eyes then went wide as he placed his hand to his chest as he stepped away. "Oh know....oh know."
Lucifer ran his fingers through his hair as he quickly rushed away from the scene. This couldn't be happening.
"What is wrong with me?!" Lucifer ran his hand down his face but yet he could not get the images out of his head and how you were with his daughter. He couldn't help but think how good of a mother you would be.
Biting his lip, he then took a deep breath as he straightened his form. A nice family day sounds nice, yes it will be perfect.
A nice day, out. Just you him and Charlie, a perfect family....he just has to ask you out first.
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bitterchocoo · 3 days
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Well Deserved Rest
Dr. Veritas Ratio | M. Reader as Medicine Pocket [Reverse: 1999]
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Tsundere Ratio will forever live rent free in my head. That was totally canon!
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"Hey hey! Veritas!"
That annoying voice again.. how many times has he heard it today? It's so annoying.. so high pitched and loud, like a dog, happily barking at their favorite person.
"For the last time, it's Dr. Ratio! Don't call me by name so casually!" He groans at the other's enthusiasm and seemingly endless energy. For the past few years he had known the researcher. [Name] never fails to get on his nerves. Be it the constant teasing or the dog-like demeanor. The only thing he ever decided to tolerate the man is because of his reputation for being a genius amongst geniuses and gaining his current position when he was a mere teenager.
"Look look! I made this serum that presumably—" "I swear if this is one of your unauthorized experiments!"
Not only is he a genius amongst geniuses.. [Name] seems to have a reputation of doing whatever the hell he wants. Paperwork? That can wait! Research? Why should he care about following the status quo? Only when something had caught his attention, that's when the researcher began to actually do his work.
Sometimes Ratio feels like he's babysitting a child—or rather a dog. Given the other's background.
How many times has [Name] decided to chew on the ends of his robe? How many times has [Name] licked his cheek without a second thought?
Honestly...
"Aw come on, Veritas! Can't you live a little?" [Name] asked teasingly, tilting his head to the side, acting all adorable in order to persuade the doctor. Which didn't work. Or so he told himself. "It's not living if you constantly experiment on dangerous unauthorized things! It's called being foolish!"
This earns a chuckle from the other. He sure knows how to get on Ratio's nerves like it's merely looking at the back of his hand. It seems like second nature to him. "You're so boring! Didn't take you to be a stickler to the rules!"
"It's called self preservation!"
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How did this happen..? How in the galaxy had he managed to land himself in this position..? What is it? Nap time? He's out like a light!
Earlier, [Name] had decided to annoy him again, typical, but Ratio was having none of it. So like any other sane person, he ignores the genius in favor of the book he's currently reading. But of course that didn't stop [Name] from teasing and poking him. Trying to get a reaction.
But as time went on. The researcher seems to have worn himself out and started to doze off. Now, Ratio sits there with a book in hand but despite that, his mind was in other places as his gaze shifted towards the sleeping genius who had his head on his shoulder and his right arm being hugged by the other in his sleep.
He's out like a light! What time even is it? Nap time? Maybe it's [Name]'s constant all-nighter he pulls whenever he's so absorbed by his research and experiment? Or is this a by product of his dog-like nature?
Either way, this can't continue!
But when Ratio tries to wake him up, [Name] doesn't seem to respond to it, at all. Sleeping like a rock. So... Ratio decided to just.. let him rest..
Maybe he needs it?
Every time Ratio tries to focus on the book he's reading his mind would always drift towards the sleeping researcher that's using him as a human pillow.
He could feel [Name]'s warm breath hitting his exposed biceps, his shallow and calm breathing, it never fails to send a shiver down his spine. He's so.. comfortable.. so.. at peace..
He's far different than the usual hyperactive, seemingly endless energy researcher he's known for! And that.. makes him feel.. warm..
To think he'll have the honors of witnessing such a rare, vulnerable, and.. intimate side of [Name].. it's..
Ratio snapped out of his thoughts once he felt the other began to stir and slowly woke up from their nap. A nice and comfortable nap. [Name] blinks, once, twice. Before letting out an adorable yawn.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, Ratio spoke up, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I assume you've had a nice nap."
"Oh I did! It was sooo nice~" [Name] took the chance to tease the other as he hugged Ratio's arm closer to his chest with a huge grin plastered on his face. The doctor huffs as he begins trying to shake the other's hold on his arm. "Then get off of me, you damn dog. My arm is tired."
[Name] chuckles in response as he tightens his grip. He hums softly and rests his cheek on Ratio's shoulder, looking at him with big puppy eyes. Trying to act all cute and adorable. "But if your arm's tired, why didn't you just shoved me? You could have done that earlier, right doctor?"
This caught him off guard for a few moments. What is he supposed to say to that? [Name] let out a gasp upon seeing his hesitation. "Don't tell me that you actually enjoy it! Aw~ Ratio you could have just said so! I could have been your cuddle buddy from the start!"
"Cuddle buddy!? How absurd! You dare think that I—Dr. Veritas Ratio. Would ever need such things!? Especially from you?!"
"But your face is red~ I'm right aren't I~?"
"?!"
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yandere-romanticaa · 2 days
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Recently, the surge of AI has caught everyone's attention and I've been working on this little experiment.
Down below the cut are two fics and this is how I planned it - one was made up by using AI (more specifically, Chat Gpt) while the other one was written by yours truly. Below both fics will be a poll and I would like for you, my dear readers, to guess which one was AI. Personally, I don't think it'll be a difficult challenge but seeing your reactions and comments on this should prove to be an interesting endeavor.
This was posted on April 17th. And, in 7 days, I shall reveal which fic was written by me, and which one was done by AI.
Now then, let's get on with the show.
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🥀 Story One.
In the dimly lit alleyways of Yokohama, Fyodor Dostoevsky stalks his obsession, (y/n), with unwavering determination. His fixation transcends reason, driving him to extreme lengths to possess (y/n)'s affection.
Fyodor's obsession with (y/n) began innocently enough, a mere curiosity sparked by their untapped potential and innocence. But as time passed, that curiosity twisted into an all-consuming desire, festering within Fyodor's mind like a venomous serpent.
Each night, Fyodor would follow (y/n) from a distance, his heart pounding with anticipation and longing. He would watch as (y/n) laughed with their friends, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.
But Fyodor's love was not the gentle, nurturing kind. It was possessive, suffocating, and dangerously obsessive. He couldn't bear the thought of (y/n) belonging to anyone but him, couldn't stand the idea of anyone else basking in the warmth of (y/n)'s smile.
As his obsession deepened, Fyodor's mind became consumed with dark fantasies of possessing (y/n) completely. He would spend hours meticulously planning every detail of their future together, envisioning a life where they were inseparable.
But fantasies were not enough for Fyodor. He needed to make them a reality, no matter the cost. And so, he began to weave a web of deception and manipulation, carefully orchestrating events to bring (y/n) closer to him and drive away anyone who dared to stand in their way.
But as Fyodor's plans grew more elaborate, so too did the danger. (y/n)'s friends grew suspicious of Fyodor's intentions, sensing something sinister lurking beneath his charming facade. And as they delved deeper into Fyodor's past, they uncovered secrets that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed world.
But Fyodor was not about to let anyone come between him and his beloved. He would do whatever it took to protect their love, even if it meant resorting to violence.
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🥀 Story Two.
Shimmering waves of starlight engulfed the man in white as he monitored his target from a safe distance, hollow purple eyes gleaming with excitement. He could feel his long fingers twitching with anticipation in his warm pockets, a stark contrast to the chilly wind on this fine spring evening.
He needed to be patient. Because patience was indeed, a virtue.
And Fyodor was a virtuous man. Perhaps not a good one, but he would gladly take the title of virtue.
Would you bestow upon him such a title? Would you do so, if you ever found out that he had taken such a keen interest in you? The rational part in his mind said no, of course not. Unlike him, you were blessed with normalcy. There was nothing extraordinary about you - no ability, no wealth, no status.
Nothing.
You could have been squished like a bug beneath his heel and the world would just keep on going as it always would. Sure, there would be some individuals who would miss you dearly but even they would move on at some point.
Such was the nature of humanity. How cruel, he thought to himself.
Fortunately for you, Fyodor was no ordinary man. Despite his predicament, he had grown fond of you. He was not sure why but after a while, he stopped asking such trifling questions as to why he troubled himself by giving you so much attention.
It was pointless to make sense of the senseless.
Right here, right now, all he wanted was to enjoy this quiet evening by his lonesome, as he tailed behind you like a creeping shadow. He would reveal himself to you properly when the time was right, when he felt you were strong enough to take him.
Fyodor just needed to wait a little bit longer, just long enough to see how he should proceed with you in case things went south.
In the meantime, he would gladly spend every waking moment simply watching you for his own personal pleasure.
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🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enoojnij, @ishqani, @osachiyo, @bluepeanutharmony, @kaithegremlin, @fyodorscockslut, @wcayaw, @luna-mariko-akatsuki, @lovelyyz, @queenofspades403
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Good Morning
Story: You have just spent your first night together and the obvious nervousness comes in with a bang. Will he like me without makeup? I need to keep mints close to me to hide my morning dragon breath. Should I put on some mascara at least? 
Characters: Diluc, Alhaitham
TW: Beware! Fluff.
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Diluc
You have promised yourself that you will wake up before him. And somehow you did. When you opened your eyes, the sun was still pretty low and the room was filled with Diluc´s deep calm breathing. Slowly raising your head you checked his chest. You have been sleeping on him the whole night so the possibility of you salivating on him was pretty high. 
It is fine. Thank god. You sigh with relief.
For a second you got stuck because you could not stop staring at him. He looks so peaceful, but authoritative at the same time. Diluc has this aura of confidence and stoicism that you have never seen in other men. He could have every woman in the Teyvat but he chose you. Your heart flutters. 
I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I will do everything to prove to you that I am worthy of you. 
With that, you stood up and tip-toed out of the bedroom.
"Are you trying to run away from me?" 
Diluc´s voice stopped you right when you were about to reach the doorknob. Heart in your chest started racing and all you could hear was your blood rushing through your veins.
"If I disappointed you somehow last night, you can tell me straight away."
"No!" You almost screamed too ashamed to look at him.
"Then where are you going? I was excited to wake up to you sleeping in my arms."
"Me too! I just need to… Use the toilet. If that is ok."
"Of Course, it is ok." Diluc chuckled with relief as he stood up. "I will show you the way."
"No! Umm… I will find it by myself."
"Y/N, what is going on?" He frowned. "Why you did not look at me once."
You wanted to protest even more, but before you were able to find new excuses, Diluc took your chin and raised your head so he could look you directly in the eyes.
After a short moment, you cracked under his gaze, just like last night.
"I did not want you to see me like this." You finally admit.
"Like what?" Diluc looked at you and scanned you from head to toe.
"No makeup, messy hair, puffy face…"
"Stop it, please." Diluc hushed you with a voice filled with amusement and disappointment at the same time.
"I am sorry." You whisper.
"For what? That I did not show you my affection the same way I feel it here?" He took your hand and placed it on the bare skin of his chest. "Can you forgive me for leaving room for so many doubts? My dear, I have traveled most of our world and I have never met someone like you. Do not ever doubt my affection for you. For any version of you. With messy hair, with whatever makeup you do not wear. I do not care. "
"But…"
You tried to protest, but he immediately stopped you with raised brows that said more than enough.
"With that settled, how did you sleep?" Diluc smiled as he hid you in his embrace.
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Alhaitham
Last night was everything but what you have expected from a man who presented himself the way he did. Where did those passionate touches and kisses come from?
Never even in your wildest dreams, you dreamed about being smothered with so much affection. Even though you did not want to admit it, you felt addicted. Men are usually a source of disappointment in your life. How could you score an intelligent gentleman with ways that can make your toes curl from… Well, let's call it happiness.
It would be such a shame to scare him away with my morning state. I should freshen up a little. 
You debated with yourself a little before you took your chance. As you carefully moved away his hand wrapped around your waist and tried to stand up, Alhaitham deeply growled. His grip around your body tightened. Who would have thought that he would be into spooning so much?
"What is so funny?" He asked after you chuckled a little.
"Just wondering if I could be the big spoon now."
"No." Alhaitham murmured into your neck without hesitation.
"Can I at least go to the bathroom? Pretty please?"
"So you would let me here with nothing but your scent stuck to my skin?"
"Awwwww." You smiled. "But... Do you want me to pee here?"
"You are free to go wherever you want!" Alhaitham said while dramatically pushing you away from him. 
After you gave him your best fake sad stare you quickly left to deal with some important business in the bathroom. When you finally came back, Alhaitham was already sitting in the bed leaning against the headboard reading something.
"And I thought that I had bad bed hair." You laugh.
"You probably had. You have been gone for almost half an hour."
"You did not!" You audibly gasped before you jumped at him.
"Why… Oh god…" Alhaitham growled as he maneuvered you down from him. "...do you have so much energy this early in the morning? If I knew I would never invite you over."
"REALLY?!" You froze.
"Of Course not." He smiled sheepishly as he pinned you down to kiss you oh so sweetly.
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 2 days
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Where The Shadows Dance (iii)
Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader
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CHAPTER III: The Princess
SUMMARY: Azriel and the Princess of the Autumn Court have spent two weeks together now, and yet Azriel's shell is one not easily broken
WARNINGS: once again more misogyny! yay! and also both y/n and azriel can be real bitchy
NOTE: once again special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for reading over my work! <33
WORDS: 1.7K
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You sat at your desk, pouring over the book you were currently studying. It was the most thorough study on rare Fae abilities you could find, although it was not thorough enough to understand the shadowsinger who sat behind you, reading a book of his own. No, Azriel was a different puzzle altogether.
You had truly enjoyed spending time with the Night Court members — Cassian was an absolute menace and you loved him already; Rhysand was a cunning leader, and you were fascinated by his rule of the Night Court; Feyre was beautiful inside and out, and her powers intrigued you; Amren was scary, plain and simple — although she was also wickedly intelligent; and Azriel, while soft-spoken, added insightful comments to each conversation.
Well, at least he did, until his court members had left two weeks ago. Now he just seemed to brood everywhere he followed you. Indeed, that was what the male was currently doing, his eyes on the window, a frown tugging at his lips and brows, book open but unread. You wished the book in front of you would tell you whether it was a shadowsinger trait, or simply an Azriel trait.
“Stop brooding,” you chided him.
Azriel looked up at you, brows still furrowed, a slightly annoyed expression crossing over his face. “I’m not brooding,” he huffed.
“You are so. Your broodiness is distracting me from my reading,” you replied with a delicate sniff.
Azriel rolled his eyes and didn’t respond. You weren’t sure whether you preferred this side of him — of course, you definitely enjoyed the side of him you experienced within the company of the Night Court, but something about his broodiness… Well, it was kind of hot.
“I can’t read with your brooding,” you sighed. “You’re crowding this room with negative thoughts.”
“That’s not even a thing,” he muttered, and you pretended not to hear.
You closed your book and stood up, the action prompting Azriel to rise as well. You watched him carefully, the male watching you right back. Those hazel eyes bored into yours, and you could have sworn you saw a flicker of something, beyond cold disinterest.
“Would you like to accompany me on a walk?” you asked, knowing that he would have to agree.
Azriel dipped his head slightly, ever the polite and respectful male, despite his sullenness. “Of course, Lady. Where to?”
“I was thinking the main street–”
“Not this again,” Azriel groaned, rolling his eyes. 
You crossed your arms and glared at the Illyrian male. Unfortunately, your father had given Azriel a rather long list of rules, dictating what you could and could not do, where you could and could not go, who you could see and could not see, and on and on and on. You honestly thought that your father had more important things to do than write a silly list to trap his daughter with, but apparently not.
One of the places you were strictly prohibited from visiting was anywhere outside the castle. Not that you’d really ever done that much before, as your father liked to keep you ‘protected’, but even with the security of your Illyrian bodyguard, you were not allowed beyond the palace walls. To be fair, the ‘attempt on your life’ — as your father liked to put it — did happen during a parade on the main streets, but you had been perfectly fine.
“I don’t understand why—” you began, but Azriel interrupted, politeness gone.
“Your father strictly stated that you are not to leave the castle,” he reminded you harshly.
You scowled at the shadowsinger. He seemed so much more… willing to comply whenever his friends were around. Now that he was alone with you, it was as if his heart was made of stone, and he felt nothing — no compassion for you at all.
“So you will aid in the entrapment of another female?” you frowned. “Didn’t you try to save your friend Morrigan from the same fate?”
You knew you’d struck a nerve when a sliver of glittering rage shone in his eyes. You felt a tad bad, as it was a low blow — really, there wasn't anything he could do to help you — but you were honestly sick and tired of being stuck in the castle. Had the shadowsinger not been present, you would have snuck out already, as you tended to do quite a bit. You were lucky enough to have inherited your mother’s ability to create perfect glamours, and it came in handy when you wanted to sneak out.
But the shadowsinger would not leave you be. He shadowed your every step, always lingering and watching. He was clearly taking this bodyguard role seriously — too seriously, in your opinion.
You sighed at the shadowsinger and crossed your arms. “The Orchards?” you suggested.
Azriel’s polite mask slipped in place, but you could still sense his anger at your words. “Of course, Lady Vanserra.”
 You decided not to worry yourself about his feelings. It didn’t matter, anyway. He would be gone as soon as this threat was terminated, and then you would have to marry whatever nobility your father deemed worthy. You’d never see Azriel or the Night Court members again.
At least, that’s what you were supposed to think. But you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about running away from the Autumn Court and living in Velaris, the City of Starlight, for the rest of your immortal life.
You allowed Azriel to lead you down to the Royal Orchards, while also trying to converse with him. As per usual, his answers were short and clipped, perhaps more so due to your hurtful words. However, no matter what you asked, you just couldn’t break past his walls.
“You don’t like my brothers very much, do you?” you inquired as you walked through the apple trees.
“I do not know them well enough to form an opinion,” Azriel answered politely.
You snorted, knowing that was not true. No one really liked your brothers, as most of them were too similar to your father for anyone’s liking, even yours. You only had two brothers who you actually liked, because they treated you like a person, not an object.
You were only six when Lucien left the Autumn Court, but you remembered him fondly. He was easily the nicest of your brothers, with much more of a resemblance to your mother than to your father. And it wasn’t just physical likeliness — Lucien showed the compassion and kindness that your mother did, which was why he was one of your favourite brothers, even if you hadn’t seen him in decades.
Your other favourite brother, contrary to popular belief, was Eris. You knew for a fact that Azriel despised Eris, as most people did. They just didn’t know him like you did. Eris had a soft spot for you, a side that no one besides your mother ever saw. Yes, while you could admit that he was a sadistic asshole to most people, he’d never been anything but a great older brother to you. He’d taught you how to protect your mind from Daemati, and he’d also trained you in combat for a few years, until your father had found out.
The rest of your brothers took after your father, so they paid you no mind. You didn’t really care, as they were all dim-witted brutes anyway. Although it would have been nice to have a few more family members who actually cared.
“Do you like your brothers?” Azriel inquired.
You blinked at the question, then shrugged. “Eris and Lucien, although I haven’t seen Lucien in decades.” 
Azriel nodded and said nothing more, and you internally groaned. Every time you thought you’d come close to breaking down his walls, he would go silent and, once again, disinterested. You wondered why he acted this way.
An apple hung on a branch ahead of you, and you reached up, only for your fingers to brush against the bottom of the fruit. You frowned in frustration, tempted to burn the whole branch off, when a gloved hand reached up and grabbed the apple. Azriel held it out to you, and you took it from him without a word.
“Why are you so gloomy?” you asked.
Azriel paused, looking at you boredly. “I’m not gloomy.”
“You definitely are,” you hummed, turning the apple in your hand. “You seem bored.”
Azriel rolled his eyes. “I came here under the impression that I would have to protect you against a possible assassination, rather than walking around and doing nothing with you.”
“I know of a few things we could do together,” you purred, looking at Azriel from beneath lowered lashes.
Azriel’s stare hardened in annoyance, and you grinned at him. It was moments like these that you loved, when you could get under his skin with just a few words. It happened more often than Azriel would probably willingly admit.
You sighed deeply and picked up your skirts, heading back to your quarters, Azriel only a few steps behind. The castle came closer much too quickly, and a plan began to formulate in your mind. You took the sweeping staircases up to your chambers, and opened the door to your bathroom. Azriel was still only a step behind you, so you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are you going to join me?” you asked.
Azriel’s eyes took in the bathtub, and a mortified expression took over his face for a split second, before it was once again neutral.
“My apologies, Lady Vanserra,” Azriel murmured. 
He turned away, but you caught a glimpse of red on his cheeks as he shut the door, leaving you alone in your bathroom. You smiled to yourself and began to undress, the layers of your dress fluttering to the floor.
You walked over to the furthest wall from the door and tapped lightly on the red and orange wallpaper, feeling around for the secret nook. Once found, you pulled out the red tunic and black pants, something your father would probably have a fit over if he caught you wearing. 
You turned back to the door, sensing Azriel’s presence. You heard the whisper of a page being turned over, so you grabbed your gown and a pair of scissors.
TAGLIST: @honeybee54321 @marigold-morelli @lucky7rosie @itsswritten @paankhaleyaar @bubybubsters @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @thelov3lybookworm @blushingfawnsposts @thisiskaylin @morganisheree @sleepylunarwolf @bakananya @bookishbroadwaybish @namelesssav @glitterypirateduck @sfhsgrad-blog @ash-mcj @feyres-fireheart @ib525 @azrielswhore @copenhagenspirit @eternallyelvish @teenagellamaangel @thisiskaylin @littleladdty @tele86 @talesofadragon @fandom-crashlanding @mybestfriendmademe
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youcouldmakealife · 6 hours
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KS Fill: Mike/Liam; happy place
For the always welcome prompt: Anything where Mike and Liam are happy
Teensy bit NSFW because, well, it's Mike and Liam.
The kitchen’s always been Mike’s favourite room of the house.
Well, Liam would like to think it’s his second favourite room, but it probably isn’t. It’s not like they keep shit confined to the bedroom or anything anyway. There isn’t a surface in this house that Liam hasn’t gotten bent over at some point, though Mike was very, very thorough about disinfecting the kitchen counter after. Totally anal about it.
“Why are you snickering to yourself,” Mike says.
It doesn’t even come out suspicious, he’s gotten into such a rhythm cutting little stars out of a sheet of cookie dough. He probably wouldn’t admit this even to himself, but while Mike may like to cook, he loves to bake. Only ever does it for others, though, like the baking itself isn’t unmanly but eating the results is.
That means Liam usually only gets to sample his baking one filched cookie at a time, which is bullshit. But also, probably good for his career. Mike’s just as good at baking as he is at cooking. Possibly even better, but Liam’s got a sweet tooth, so he’s probably biased.
“Liam,” Mike says, and Liam realises he hasn’t bothered to answer.
“Thought of a sex joke,” Liam says.
Mike snorts. “Of course you did,” he says. “Do I want to hear it?”
“You always do,” Liam says. Mike secretly thinks he’s hilarious.
“Go ahead,” Mike says, trying and failing to sound long-suffering. Cutting little stars is clearly his happy place. Liam’s going to go completely nuts online later buying cookie cutters. He wonders if they have little skulls and crossbones or rockets or something. Maybe Mike will let them keep a batch of cookies if they’re badass enough. Probably not, but a man can hope.
“Remember how we fucked in the kitchen?” Liam asks.
“Which time?” Mike asks.
Liam waves a hand. “Irrelevant to the joke.”
“Okay,” Mike says. “Yes, I remember.”
“So I was thinking about how you were, you know, super thorough cleaning the counters off after?” Liam asks.
“I prepare food on these counters,” Mike says. “They need to be—“
“Not saying you shouldn’t have been,” Liam says. “Just, you know. That was kind of anal of you.”
Mike doesn’t stop himself from snorting in time. “That was bad,” he says, a second too late. “Completely juvenile.”
“I know,” Liam says cheerfully. Made Mike snort, though, so what does that say about him?
Mike looks down at his handiwork, a sea of stars across the baking sheet, enough for every member of the roster.
“You’re making two batches, right?” Liam asks. It’s just the team for this one, no significant others or kids, so technically only one batch is needed, but one per person doesn’t work out well. There are thieves on that team. He should know: he’s one of them.
“Three,” Mike says. “Make sure there’s enough for the support staff.”
Once again, Mike is going to be the most popular person at the team Christmas party. Third straight year. Liam thinks they should make him a trophy or something.
“Can we decorate them to be North Stars?” Liam asks. “Or is that not Christmassy enough?”
“Why do you think I picked stars, Fitzgerald?” Mike asks, and Liam grins at him. “Why don’t you make yourself useful, find the green food colouring for me?”
Liam has no idea where the fuck it would be, but he has eyes and hands and enthusiasm, and the full awareness that Mike will gripe at him from across the room like a backseat searcher until he locates it.
“Why would it be in there?” Mike asks, as Liam opens the cupboards, and Liam grins at the mixing bowls. The griping’s already begun.
“Baking stuff,” Liam says.
Mike sighs, and Liam moves one over.
“Liam,” he says, and Liam grins wider. “Really?”
“Tell me where to go, and I’m there,” Liam says, but instead Mike pins him against the counter, basically surrounding him. Liam leans back into him, closes his eyes when Mike wraps an arm around his chest, brushes his lips against Liam’s temple, the kind of thing he’d deny was a kiss if asked. ‘What? Kiss you? My mouth just happened to be in the area, don’t flatter yourself’.
Liam tilts his head up, and he gets a proper kiss for that, though Mike pulls away just as he’s starting to get a crick in his neck. He always seems to know, somehow.
Mike presses another not-kiss to his cheekbone, then smacks his ass. “Go find me the food colouring,” he says.
It takes ten minutes, and Mike almost throws the cookie cutter at him, but eventually Liam locates it.
“Can I help make the frosting?” he asks.
“You just want to lick the beaters,” Mike says, but he doesn’t say no.
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thegoldencontracts · 2 days
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A Turn-Table
Summary: Azul's in quite the teasing mood. Too bad he can't take what he dishes out.
Notes: Flustered Azul my skrunkly poo darling
Azul seemed to be in the mood to tease you today. You could tell because he was currently snickering at your misery like he'd never seen anything funnier.
Okay, maybe that was a bit overdramatic. He was flirting with you, and was watching you lose your cool over it. Was it confusing that you couldn't handle his flirting despite the fact that you two were dating and he'd done it before? Maybe. But he didn't have to tease you about it!
He just laughed. Kept laughing, because of course he thought this was hilarious.
"My dearest," he said. "For all your beauty, I must admit your most adorable expression is that accompanied by your pinkened cheeks. I simply can't resist this, you know."
Why was he so damn confident? It wasn't fair!
"S-Shut up!"
"How cold!" He crooned, feigning offense. "But alas, I'll love you anyways. For you're a magnet, and it seems I'm a scrap of metal. Never repelled no matter what side of you I encounter."
Why was he so smooth? You couldn't handle this. Though, you had to admit, you didn't really mind.
"You know, since you've been struck silent, I might as well take the opportunity to tell you how much I desire the the sensation of your lips upon mine," he said, with a smirk that you would never admit rendered you even more flustered.
You couldn't help but feel a bit- odd, though. Didn't Azul deserve to be swept off his feet too?
You probably weren't very good at it, but you could try.
"You know, maybe, uh, maybe I'm the octopus in this relationship," you said, unable to help but cringe at yourself. Why were you doing this? "'Cause, c-considering how much pounding there is in my chest when I'm around you, there's, uh, there's no way I just have one heart in there."
That was the worst, most poorly-executed pickup line you'd ever heard. Hopefully Azul would feel merciful and decide to refrain from teasing you.
He didn't seem to laugh though, not even level you a deadpan look over you garbage line. Instead, his face flushed, eyes averted from yours.
Did- Did your pickup line actually work on him?
"Don't tease me," he said.
You could feel your jaw hand open in shock.
"T-That was a terrible line," you said. "And it got to you?"
Azul huffed, seeming defensive.
"I'm simply not used to people desiring me in any manner," he said.
What? Azul wasn't used to being desirable? True, you didn't initiate when it came to flirting as much as.you'd like to, but that was because: One, you sucked at it; and two, you always thought Azul was one of those guys everyone flirted with. He was the nigh-omnipotent Octavinelle housewarden, after all.
"But you're- you!" You said, gesturing at him vaguely. "You're smart, and you're hardworking, and you're so pretty it makes me go feral, and-"
"This is unnecessary," Azul said, now burying his face within his hands, and you couldn't help but grin.
You'd just found a weakness of his.
"What is?" You asked, patting him on the head both for the sake of teasing and because his hair was just irresistibly soft. "Me telling you how pretty you are? Or how cute you look when your face is scrunched up in concentration? Or when you-"
"Shut it already, you utter cretin!" Azul snapped, and you couldn't help but grin.
"You know, you sound more affectionate right now than when you call me 'darling'," you said, and he pouted.
"I assure you, I hold no affection towards any of- this behavior."
Was he- scared? That you'd make fun of him for wanting affection? No, no. That wouldn't do.
"I do, though," you said. "It's just too cute watching you get all flustered."
A high-pitched, squeaking noise, followed by silence.
"Azul?"
You just broke your boyfriend, didn't you?
Bonus:
"As prideful as Azul may seem, he actually holds himself in quite low regard, having never received anything but disparagement in the past, and therefore is easily affected by even the slightest traces of care from those outside of his family, simply due to the fact he's never received them before."
"..."
"Is something the matter?"
"Are you info-dumping to me about my boyfriend?"
Jade Leech was an- eccentric guy, to say the least.
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Five More Games
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Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You haven't seen your boyfriend in over two weeks, your longing for Joel interrupts a FaceTime session. Warnings: smut, baseball talk, FaceTime mutual masturbation, pining, softness, Joel cum's all over his stomach Words: 3,000 Playlist A/N: These two have previously appeared together in 18 Seasons and Golden Corral. I wanted to write something super self indulgent to celebrate the month anniversary of posting my first fic Golden Walkway on here. I also want to shout out two people who helped me in this whole writing process. @ohheypedrito for being my steadfast fellow obsessor and idea bouncer offer and @justagalwhowrites for her very sweet response when I asked for words of advice that ultimately made me take the big step to hitting post.
Joel has internally struggled this season:  unhappy with his new team, unhappy with his new city, unhappy with the game he loved. Unfamiliar fans, unfamiliar apartment, unfamiliar restaurants, unfamiliar grocery store. The only familiar thing for Joel is you, taking the train down to the city whenever you can, staying in his aforementioned unfamiliar apartment making it seem more like home. You of course knew you couldn’t go to any of his games and openly root for him, but you were happy to watch the game on his couch in his new home, welcoming him back with a hug, smelling the sweat of the game still on him… Joel always far too impatient to shower at the stadium, too excited to get back to you. 
The two of you stuck together living a secret nobody knew about, the two of you never admitting the love you had for each other was growing into something loud enough that soon everybody would hear. What would your dad think? What would Joel’s old teammates think? What would his agent think? What would your coworkers think? What would Sarah think? 
For eight months you and Joel have done this alone, the only people privy to your relationship is whomever might look over at him placing his hand on your thigh at a restaurant, a couple of close friends of yours, and maybe the doorman of Joel’s apartment building delivering packages addressed to you. No, you didn’t want to live in this lie, but to stay with Joel and know him like you do, all of the struggles were worth it.
When he got off the call letting him know that the Philadelphia Liberties signed him to a one year deal, Joel didn’t call his daughter, he didn’t call his brother… he called you. Playing in Philly meant he would only be an hour and a half train ride away. How many more times could you make empty excuses as to why you needed to fly back home to Texas? He knew the toll it was taking on you personally and professionally, he couldn’t give you up, but he also couldn’t live with himself always seeing how tired you were as you stepped out of the airport and into his car. 
The worst part of all of this… Joel was having one of the best seasons of his career. Articles and reporters all repeating over and over how at his age he was having a banner year. Joel loved a challenge and he loved to take his frustrations to the field, playing harder and more focused than ever. 
He wanted to share his accomplishments with you, publicly. He wanted to see you as a part of the wives and girlfriends group, knowing how much you’d stick out against all of the preened and fancy clothed wives, never understanding why they dressed up the way they did to watch a ball game in the Summer heat. He wanted to see you cheering louder than anyone else as he rounded the bases after hitting a home run. He wanted his teammates to tease him for having a picture of you taped up in his locker. He wanted to see you waiting for him in the tunnel after the game wearing his jersey. He wanted to be able to call you his to anyone who’d listen. 
He hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in almost twenty years. Once Sarah’s mom left, he gave up dating and significant others to focus on the game and being a dad. Maybe there was just never anybody worth it, but you? You were worth it, and he hated that he couldn’t show everyone how much he loved you. 
——
“Next week’s the All Star Game, you still able to head home?” Joel asks as he watches you change into one of his old Capitals shirts you took as a sleep shirt. 
He loves FaceTime. For years he rolled his eyes at the idea of having to look at who’s he’s talking to… until he learned he can watch you go through your nightly routine in your bedroom. Now he gets to watch you apply your face lotion, feeling a bit like a voyeur looking in on your world from your MacBook screen. He especially likes FaceTime when you angle the laptop on the bed to show him your body as you make yourself cum while chanting his name and how much you miss him. 
“Yeah, so far so good. Can’t believe we’re doing this, especially seeing as you’re in the actual game and we’re letting everybody know the night before. What happens if it’s not good and it affects your g—” 
“I’ll be fine no matter what. It has to be done, I don’t know how many times I can tell Sarah my agent is texting. I think she knows something’s up, she’s too smart, she knows I don’t have friends,” he sighs. “How do you think your parents are gonna take it?”
“I think my mom will be cool with it, she always liked you, especially because of Sarah. My dad? I don’t know, I think he’ll be fine but I also think he’ll have a lot of reservations about us and how it’ll look once everyone finds out. He’s going to drop some business words and worry how it might end up as tabloid fodder amongst baseball people, and I fully understand his issues.” You get into your bed, moving the computer to lay next to you, Joel’s face and broad shoulders taking up most of the screen, it’s such a pitiful replacement to having his warm body next to you. “I don’t know, I wish we could just not do this but be able to do everything like normal people.” 
“There’s nothing normal about this, I’m in a hotel room in Seattle and I just got done eating $45 grilled chicken and brown rice from room service. You just closed your blinds with a remote in your apartment with a view of Central Park. We’re not a normal couple sweetheart,” Joel gives you his reassuring smile, his dimple pressing into his skin, you wish you could touch it. God, you miss him.
“I know, I just wish things could be more simple.” 
“I know baby, me too,” his smile faltering as he hears the longing in your voice. 
“I think I just really miss you… it’s been almost two weeks.”
“It has, we’ll be together soon. Just have to wait six more days.”
“Five more games,” you whisper. 
The two of you always finding it easier to break it down in games. Only 45 innings.  Only five trips for Joel to step on the team bus and head to the ballpark. Only five games worth of you checking your phone for updates.
“Five more games,” Joel’s voice dropping. “You able to watch tomorrow?”
“Don’t think so,” you try not to let the disappointment in your voice show as much as it does. “I have that dinner with the group in from Toronto. I’m hoping I’ll be home around 9, and the game starts at 4 there… I guess I might be able to see maybe the last couple of innings.”
“Mm, pretty sure I’m just DHing tomorrow, so should be in for the whole game.”
“Save your home run for the last inning please.” 
“‘Course,” he smirks. “I’ll swing for the fences.” 
“Joel—“ you whisper out.
“Yeah sweetheart?”
“I wish you were here right now.”
“Me too, your bed’s always so comfortable. Sick of these hotel beds.”
You bring the neck of Joel’s shirt up to your nose and inhale. “Your shirt no longer smells like you, I need a new one.” 
“I’ll have one for you next time baby. I won’t take this one off.” 
“You can take it off now.”
“Yeah? Why do you want me to take it off?” Joel’s eyes get darker. 
“I want to look at you while I touch myself, so take it off.”
“Love how bossy you get.”
“Preaching to the choir.”
“Very funny,” he leans forward, pushing his laptop farther down the desk to give you a better view and removes his shirt. 
The two of you are well versed in the proper set up to have this type of experience over FaceTime. No bright lamp behind you because your body will be blown out by the light. Make sure you angle the screen the right way at the right distance so you can still see each other’s faces and bodies. Joel usually chooses to stay on the couch or in an office chair when he’s in a hotel room, allowing him to sit up and jerk himself off while he can still watch you. You always place your laptop on his side of your bed, laying diagonally across it so he can watch you touch your pussy while staring at the screen. 
You love seeing him shirtless, the way his body fills out in all of the most broad and right places. His shoulders are so wide and muscular, connecting to his toned and strong arms, his muscles never being overbearing and huge, just the perfect size and super capable of hitting a ball over 250 feet. The smattering of hair across his chest trailing down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts. His stomach, you’re obsessed with his stomach, it’s so soft, your favorite feeling on earth is laying your head against it. The perfect amount of softness filling out his athletic midsection. Joel’s body perfectly encompasses him, soft and rugged, broad and safe. 
“You’re staring again sweetheart,” Joel’s voice blinks you out of your daze as you ogle the square of him on your screen. 
“Sorry, I just really like looking at you.”
“I know, and I like looking at you.” Joel leans back, placing one of his arms behind the couch, his other hand resting against his thigh. “Now, let me really see you. Take m’shirt off.” 
You nod and move your laptop to its customary location so Joel can see all of you. You take his shirt off leaving you bare for his eyes to roam across your body from over two thousand miles away.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, wish I could rub my hands all over your soft skin. Wish I could smell your hair, wish I could taste your skin. Miss you so fucking much.”
“What would you do to me if you were here?” Your voice barely above a whisper, your body aching for his touch.
“I’d rub my tongue up and down your neck,” you move your fingers to your neck and begin to trail them across it copying Joel’s words. You close your eyes and pretend instead of hearing Joel’s voice coming from a tinny set of computer speakers you’re hearing him from across the bed before he touches you. 
“I’d move my mouth down to take one of your nipples into my mouth.” Your hand grazes down your body to one of your breasts, grabbing your nipple and pulling at it. 
“Fuck baby, yes, grab your other tit, play with ‘em,” you open your eyes at the gruffness of Joel’s voice. His hand is still behind the couch, the other has moved from his thigh to cup his half hard cock through his shorts. 
You begin to push and pull your tits apart and together, rubbing your nipples as you stare back at Joel holding eye contact through the computer.
“Looks like your pussy is drooling all over your sheets, lemme see how wet you are.”  
Your hand goes down in between your legs, you pet yourself making sure to bite your lip, something you know Joel likes as you touch yourself. A groan spills out of Joel’s mouth as he watches you bring your soaked hand up, spreading your fingers to show him how your wetness stretches across your digits. He angles himself up to pull his shorts down, his cock standing hard and solid, you can’t take your eyes off of it as his hand wraps around his length. He begins to stroke himself, as you put your hand back to play with yourself. 
“Wish you could smear yourself all over me and watch me jerk off, wish you would spit in my hand—,” Joel spits in his hand, “so I could fuck my hand until I cum all over your pretty face.” 
Your back arches as you watch Joel lick a bit of spit up from his bottom lip, his eyebrows wrinkled in concentration as he smears the spit all over his shaft and begins pumping. 
“You’re so pretty, god I miss you. I miss feeling your body pressed against me, I miss sucking your tits, I miss fucking you.” You can’t stop staring at the screen, your fingers paused and resting on your clit. He’s beautiful, the way his muscles in his arms tense as he strokes himself, the way he snarls as he twists his fist around the head, the way he can’t stop staring at you through his laptop screen. “You miss me babygirl?”
He knows what his words do to you, he knows that if he can’t touch you he can at least talk you through it. He’s so thoughtful, not stopping at anything to make you happy, to think about you, to care for you. You hate that you aren’t even close enough to be in the same time zone.
“Yes,” you whisper, if you were any louder you might just start to cry. “So much.”
“I know, I know, fuck,” Joel stops jerking himself off, “I know,” blinking the lust out of his eyes, his big brown concerned eyes planted on his screen. “You okay?”
You didn’t want to do this, you wanted to get off with your boyfriend, shut your laptop lid, and go to sleep. Now? Now you miss him so much you’re naked with your hand still in between your legs and sniffling away tears alone in your bed.
“I am, yeah, I will be. I’m sorry, it just really hit me how long it’s been and I guess I’m just nervous about everything we have to do. I don’t want to lose you…” and at those words and the fear that gets planted inside your heart, you pull your fingers away from your cunt.
“We’re going to figure it out sweetheart. M’not losing you.” Joel follows you and unwraps his hand from around himself. “It has been long, but we’ll have almost a week together next week.”
“Five games?”
“Five games.” The softness of his voice and the reassuring smile he gives makes your stomach twist.
“I’m sorry.” An apology, you’re almost embarrassed by your juvenility, missing your boyfriend so much you almost started to cry.
“Baby, you don’t have to apologize, believe me, I understand.”
“Did you still want to…”
“I’m only happy doing what you want to, sweetheart.”
“I want to show you how much I miss you.” Your hand snakes up your body to start petting the area between your breasts, the place where Joel always like to nuzzle his face in and smell your skin.
“Fuck, okay sweetheart.”
“Five more games until I can feel you inside me.”
“Jesus, getting right back to the point, aren’t we?” He smirks, his eyes follow as you snake your hand down to back in between your legs.
“I’m efficient,” you bend your knee to give Joel a better look as you begin to rub circles along your clit.
“Fuck sweetheart, you look so fucking good,” he groans, wrapping his hand back around his cock. “Fuck yourself with your fingers baby, pretend it’s me.” 
You moan as you stick two fingers in, slowly pushing them in and out, ignoring how poor of a substitute they are for Joel’s cock. 
“Good girl, look at you. My pretty baby, I love you so much.”
His eyes soften as he watches you get lost in fucking yourself. You love how you can tell just how much he loves you by his big, brown eyes, even on your small laptop screen they shine bright. 
“I love you,” you whimper as you reach your other hand down to begin rubbing your clit. Your fingers working overtime inside you and on your clit causing your orgasm to build. 
“Love you baby, so much. Love watching you do this for me,” he grunts as he fucks his fist faster.
“Baaaby,” you breathe out, your heart beginning to rapidly beat, the swirls around your clit quickening. You’re a quivering mess on your bed, staring into your computer screen as you feel your orgasm show. 
“Oh, you’re close, can see it pretty girl, you gonna cum for me? M’gonna cum for you,” he grits out as you watch the hand against his thigh tighten its grip against his skin. He’s close, his jaw going slack, his tongue resting in between his lips, his brows furrowing deeper. It’s a sight you’ve seen so many times now, most of your FaceTime sessions ending like this.
“Cum for me,” you whisper as you orgasm, your pussy squeezes your fingers, your clit pulses against your finger, you fight the urge to shut your eyes because you need to watch Joel as he begins to spurt thick ropes of cum all over his stomach. You love how he looks, biting out swears totally blissed out, his cum pooling against the plush skin of his stomach. 
He swears as he grabs his shirt and cleans himself up, you smile as you watch him, feeling like you’re spying on your own boyfriend. You love FaceTime.
“You’re smilin’ quite big,” he chuckles as he tosses his shirt next to him, and pulls his shorts back up. 
“I like to watch you, that’s all, you’re so handsome.”
“Handsome, hm?”
“Yep, always thought it, and now I get to look at you whenever I want to.”
“Lucky you, huh?”
“Lucky me. Only five more games until I see my handsome boyfriend.”
“Five more games.”
81 notes · View notes
arc-misadventures · 8 hours
Text
The VTuber: The Ninja
VTubers are an eclectic assortment of fellows. Ranging form, humans, to catgirls, dwarfs to elfs, from dragons to loli’s. They were an odd sort.
There were various characters among this assortment of individuals as well. From dragons to knights, barkeepers to schoolgirls. Often times they were all of these at once. So it came as no surprise that one VTuber was a combination of two of these particular eclectic tastes.
Like a catgirl, and a ninja combined into one.
For that’s how one would describe the VTuber SushiandShibari. Aka, NyanNinja.
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Least that’s how people described her appearance, when it came to her personality, that was a whole different can of worms to deal with.
~~~
Instead of doing, SushiandShibari’s usual stream videos; Playing romance game, to horror games, and the like. She was stuck in an unexpectedly awkward conversation with friend: DraGunShow.
SushiandShibari: So… Care to explain why you just jumped into my stream, call me a bitch?
DraGunShow: Ughhhhh…
DraGunShow: I lost the bet we made…
SushiandShibari: What bet?
DraGunShow: The one where you bet I couldn’t get, Errant to blush.
SushiandShibari: Oh that one, so you called me a bitch because you couldn’t get him to blush? That’s rude.
DraGunShow: No… My chat let it slip what was going on because they were making bets on whether, or not I could do it. So, he changed the game on me; Who ever blushes first loses, and wins their chats betting pool money. And, I lost… Oh god did I lose!
SushiandShibari: It wasn’t that bad was it?
DraGunShow: He asked me if I ride a motorbike, to which I do. So he asked if you have to grab the handlebar to drive it.
SushiandShibari: Is he thinking about getting a motor bike? Oh I bet he would look food on a bike!
DraGunShow: He would look damn hot on a bike~! Ahem! But, no that’s not what he asked about.
SushiandShibari: It wasn’t? Then what did he ask?
DraGunShow: He asked if he had to grab me by my horns to ride me.
SushiandShibari’s eyes inwidened as her mouth fell open, look at her chat in wild shock as she processed the words her friend had just said. Leaving her with, but one course of action to hearing that.
SushiandShibari: DAMNNNN! That is so hot!
DraGunShow: I turned tail, and ran like hell! I could not stay around him anymore! I have never been so thoroughly flirted with before in all my life!
SushiandShibari: Really? I thought you got flirted with a lot.
DraGunShow: No I don’t, I tend to teasingly flirt with other people.
SushiandShibari: Like me.
DraGunShow: Like you, but I don’t tend to be flirted with. Least most of the times I’ve been flirted with people tend to ‘flirt’ with my boobs.
SushiandShibari: With your boobs?
DraGunShow: ‘Hey babe, nice buns you got there, how about I put my sausage between them?”
DraGun’s voice dropped into what could only be described as her best ‘dude bro’ voice. Or that, Muscleman character, whatever you felt was more adept.
NyanNinja however looked on in horror for several reasons, least of all was the voice she impersonated.
SushiandShibari: A guy once used that exact same line on me?!
DraGunShow: Oh shit, really?
SushiandShibari: Yes, but he wasn’t talking about my breasts, bastard was talking about my ass!
DraGunShow: Ppfff-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
DraGun burst into a fit of laughter as, NyanNinja’s ears flattened against her head as she glared at her friend.
SushiandShibari: Its not funny, quit laughing!
DraGunShow: Like hell it is! “Hey babe, can I hotdog your ass?” Pfft! Hahahahaha!
SushiandShibari: Grrrrrrr! Listen here you…?
NyanNinja was about to start berating her friend when an automated voice from a donation started playing.
: Hello Sushi, I noticed you lack of notifications sounds, and I decided to make one, adding it to your streams prompt pack. Enjoy.
SushiandShibari: Uh oh…
DraGunShow: Oi! Aren’t you supposed to review those before people are allowed to put stuff on there? In case someone put on something inappropriate that could get you cancelled?
SushiandShibari: I do! But, there is a filter, so if people say anything with certain words they’ll…?!
: Good girrrl~!
SushiandShibari: …?!
DraGunShow: …?!
The duo’s blood frozen in their veins as a shiver of excitement coursed down their spines. The pair looked to one another before addressing chat.
DraGunShow: W-W-Was that what I think it is…?
SushiandShibari: Please tell me it was!
: Good girrrl~!
DS: Ahhhh~!
The pair, for the lack of a better word fainted in shear excitement, and the coursing thrill as they heard those words, or more importantly who said those words. For it was a simple sound bite from everyone’s favourite paladin, Errant.
DraGunShow: He called me a good girl!
SushiandShibari: Like hell he did! This is my stream, I’m the good girl!
DraGunShow: Fine, but only the first one is yours, I get the second one!
SushiandShibari: Like hell! They’re both mine! Every time he says that it’s fucking mine!
DraGunShow: Then chat! Give me that sound bite too! I want to be called a good girl too! In fact! Give me every sound bite like that I want them! I want them all!
SushiandShibari: I want them too! Give me all the sound bits of him being sexy! I NEED THEM!
DS: NOW!!!
~~~
Meanwhile while, ErrantryPaladin was watching a video recommended to him by chat, he hit pause as he stopped, and looked around. A worrying expression etched across his face as he looked about expecting some sort of monster to suddenly pop out, and attack him.
ErrantryPaladin: C-Chat… anyone else just get this foreboding sense of unease… Like something bad is about to happen…
Errant continued to look about before he stopped as he saw a message appear on his screen, offering him a deal he couldn’t help, but view suspiciously.
ErrantryPaladin: Okay… why the hell are you bribing me with thirty subs if I say, ‘ara ara’ in a seductive voice?
65 notes · View notes
bitterspoons · 2 days
Text
For once, I thought it was me.
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Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.
use of y/n
Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff
Word Count:
part one / part two coming soon
A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.
"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.
"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.
Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."
Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."
Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.
"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."
Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"
"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.
"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."
Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."
Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"
In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.
Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.
Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.
"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.
"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.
George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."
Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.
"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.
The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.
"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.
"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.
"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.
"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."
"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"
"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."
"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"
Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."
Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.
●●●
Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.
When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.
As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.
It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?
He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.
Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.
"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.
Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.
"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."
"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.
Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.
Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.
"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.
"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"
"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.
"Your soulmate or your crush?"
"Maybe both!"
●●●
Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!
Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.
His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.
And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.
Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.
Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.
Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"
Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"
Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."
Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"
"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."
Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"
"Yeah?" He said hopefully.
"Can you do me a favour?"
Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.
"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."
Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.
So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.
"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"
Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."
Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.
So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.
The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.
Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.
"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.
Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.
Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.
Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.
Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.
Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.
Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?
Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.
What was her name again? Y/n?
Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.
Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.
______________
Girls Dorm #207
- Susan Bones
- Lia Diggory
- Y/n L/n
______________
Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.
"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.
Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"
The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.
Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.
Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.
The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress
Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.
"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.
"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."
"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"
"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.
"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"
Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.
"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.
A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.
Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.
He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.
●●●
Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.
"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"
Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.
Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.
Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.
"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"
""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.
"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.
"I don' know," Fred admitted.
"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.
The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"
"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.
"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."
"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"
Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”
“Who?”
Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.
“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.
“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”
“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”
Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”
“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”
“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”
“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”
Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.
“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"
"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.
Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.
"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.
"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."
Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."
Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.
"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"
Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?
"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.
"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.
"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"
Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.
Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.
Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.
"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.
"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."
“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”
Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”
“Why not hang out with Angelina?”
“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”
So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”
“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”
Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”
“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”
Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.
“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.
Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"
"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."
"Alright then, I'll see you around?"
"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.
Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.
(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)
55 notes · View notes
unformula1 · 2 days
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lost in your eyes (OP81 x LS2)
oscar stares into logan’s eyes (but in a cute fluffy way) w/c: 653 day 25 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium !!!!! (series masterlist) masterlist
Oscar would never admit that he liked staring into people’s eyes, specifically Logan’s. That was mostly because it was embarrassing and made him look weird, and the last thing he wanted was to lose a friend because of his weird obsession with eyes.
He sat close to Logan. Logan was doing some random media video so he was focused on whatever he had to do. This gave Oscar a rare opportunity to stare. 
He stared into Logan’s eyes. His stare was intense. That wasn’t Oscar’s fault, who asked Logan to have blue eyes, or green if he stared harder. Oscar loved it, he loved the blue-green eyes.
Oscar took a little too long to realise Logan had seen him staring blankly. By the time Oscar realised, Logan was pretty much 3 steps away from Oscar.
Oscar sat up straight, focusing up and clearing his throat as Logan approached him.
“Hi Osc.” Logan greets and Oscar waves.
“Hello.” Oscar says, “How’s your media going?”
“Alright, just finished up.” Logan smiles.
Oscar resists the urge to stare into Logan’s eyes, which look more blue when they’re in the sun. He doesn’t know why Logan wears caps so much, it casts a black shade onto his face and his eyes can’t be seen.
“Cool…” Oscar replies. 
“I saw you staring.” Logan chuckles.
“Me? Staring? NAH. NO WAY.” Oscar laughs awkwardly. He knows he’s messed up but he’s not going to risk it.
“Sure?” Logan raises his eyebrow.
“Yea- YEA I was… uhm staring at your little game. That’s right, the silly little game.” Oscar lets out awkward huffs of laughter.
“Right… It was pretty stupid, huh?” Logan adjusts his shirt and looks up.
Oscar can feel his legs grow weak as the sun rays shoot directly into Logan’s eyes and make his eyes glow some gorgeous looking blue colour.
Almost instantly, Logan covers his face with his hand to block the sunlight.
Logan groans, “This sun is going to get the better of me, I swear.”
“Really? I mean yea.” Oscar clears his throat to buy more time for himself, “It’s hot… huh? But I mean the sun’s got its bright sides too…” 
“Was that supposed to be a joke?” Logan says as he shifts himself to be standing next to Oscar so the sun doesn’t blast directly into his eyes.
“Yes- wait, no. Was it? I don’t know.” Oscar sputters out in chunks of clearly unthought-through words.
“You’re talking funny Osc.” Logan chuckles.
Oscar turns his head slightly and looks at Logan again, but this time from a like a 3/4 profile. It was more beautiful than ever. Oscar couldn’t stop staring, his eyes were quite literally shining. 
Oscar feels like he’s on some ecstasy high.
“Osc. You’re staring… again.” Logan says.
Oscar doesn’t fully process Logan’s words and just nods, “Mhm…”
“That’s all you gotta say?” Logan chuckles slightly.
“Your eyes are pretty.” Oscar blurts out before slapping his mouth.
Shit. What did he just say?
Oscar panics, he isn’t supposed to tell anyone about this.
Logan raises an eyebrow.
“No- Not like in a weird way. It’s just- uhm… I don’t know, they’re glowing right? You get me!” Oscar rambles.
“No… not really.” Logan shakes his head, “But I get why you wanna stare.”
Logan shrugs, flashing a smirk toward Oscar.
Of course Logan had to make a sassy remark.
Oscar awkwardly laughs.
Logan turns his head to face Oscar. Their eyes meet.
For the first time, Oscar’s staring into Logan’s eyes without it being from afar with stolen glances or discreetly staring.
Logan smirks.
Oscar’s in heaven. He’s in paradise.
“Your eyes are gorgeous, you know?” Oscar says.
“I know. Yours are too.” Logan replies.
Oscar’s flattered, he looks down but doesn’t take long before he’s looking back into Logan’s eyes.
They stay like that for a while and honestly, Oscar doesn’t care.
Logan’s eyes are beautiful. They’re breath-taking, they’re stunning.
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ccrites · 2 days
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Signal Lost
I've had something happen to me that's so incredible and that I could have never hoped, something so touching and so unbelievable that it made me rethink a whole lot of stuff: a wonderful reader on Ao3 started reading my long-form fic (101k words!!!) and commented basically every chapter after a certain point. And wow, I would have never thought something like this might happen.
And yeah, it is my first fic with plot in it, yeah I will never believe it to be perfect, but it's good enough. And receiving all those emails from Ao3 really was the highlight of my days over the course of which I saw said reader slowly go through all my favorite parts!
And so I wish to give it some spotlight here, while I'm finishing up my school year and work and whatever! I will post this here for now, but I will drop chapters every few days and make a Masterlist for it this weekend. I have too many loose ideas in my head so this is just to pass the time till the brain worms wiggle all in the same direction
So without further ado:
Link to AO3 here : Signal Lost - a John Price x reader fic
----- here's a blurb to pique your interest!
“I don’t think I’ve ever received a document as classified as this one. What am I supposed to do with it, Kate?” he says, dragging his thumb across the pile of papers, each file filled with more ink than the last.
“You asked for proof, there’s your proof,” Laswell says.
“You said you’ll bring someone competent, and who can help us, this doesn’t tell me shit.” He stares blankly at the screen, tired. She stares back.
“The Captain specifically asked to keep this under wraps.”
He rubs at his face, scratching at his beard. It’s getting long again.
“Who is he, anyway?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
He groans again, picking up the file on top. No photo, no name, no age, no height, weight, no nothing . And he thought Simon was secretive.
“What can you tell me?”
“It’s the closest we’ve ever gotten to him. Did things a particular way.”
He shifts through the papers. “And the discharge?”
“Left after the entire team got wiped out. Messy stuff.”
“That why he doesn’t show his face?” He bends forward, grabbing the cigar from the ashtray and bringing it to his lips.
“John.” Her voice carries a heavy warning.
“Just sayin’,” he says, biting around the cigar with one side of the mouth. “What kinda captain doesn’t go down with his men?”
“Got enough guilt as is. You’re lucky I convinced them.”
They both remain silent. They know the missions would be a slippery slope. One wrong move and a war is started. He puffs a cloud of smoke.
“Anything else?” John asks.
Kate looks to the side, her face illuminated by another screen. He can see her hesitate, her lips are pursed in a thin line as if she’s debating her options.
“You’ve worked together before.”
His face lights up. “Finally! Who?”
Her face immediately hardens back up. “Can’t tell, John, my hands are tied.” She sighs. “You were still a Lieutenant.”
Years ago then. He mentally catalogs everyone he’s ever worked with, but he knows that at that age, he was throwing himself at every available mission, wanting to make a name for himself. “So an old fart then? How’s that gonna help us?” If the guy was a Captain when he was still a Lieutenant, and he felt himself grow old, he can’t imagine who Laswell is bringing back from the dead.
Laswell’s face distorts, he knows he’s pushing her buttons, but he has to know.
“Not older than you John.”
His eyebrows raise. “Oh?”
---
or
returning to the military to hunt Makarov is hard enough, to do it with your past lover is even harder. a "friends to lovers to enemies to friends and back to lovers" story
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Tags and other CW: will be posted for each chapter containing warnings for more hardcore stuff (i.e., torture and angst namely), but this is a fanfic, with smut, so if you want all the tags feel free to check the ao3 link bc there are a LOT and I am lazy to retype them all here
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thosewildcharms · 2 days
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We talk a lot about Rick saying he knew he was in love with his son's best friend, but we need to discuss Michonne's love for, and loyalty to this man since they met. He's always been the one for her.
oh for sure, she chose him from the beginning even if she wasn't fully aware of doing so. btw, if you haven't seen it already, i would recommend this post by @glamaphonic (which is basically required reading in my opinion) for the full trajectory of michonne's feelings for rick.
while I don't necessarily think she was in love with him since day one, you're absolutely right in that it was building from the moment they met. these are the things that stick out to me but let's be real it's not a comprehensive list because she loves him so much. she loves him so so much!
the way she pretty much instantly decided the prison was safe and that she wanted to stay there because of rick. not just by understanding why he was mistrustful of her, but by seeing how he had built a legitimate family from the way he reunited with carol and thanked daryl for taking care of judith. it took her five minutes to clock him as a legitimate leader and has supported him ever since. so much so that in 7x12 she tells him, completely honestly, that he should lead all of the communities. she genuinely admires him, and thinks there is no one better or more capable than him (of course, that's not true: she is lol i'm always so ticked by how surprised she is when he asks her to lead with him in 7x12).
when she sees rick having hallucinations, instead of treating him like a wild animal that you should only approach slowly and carefully (like everyone else did) she sees herself in him and goes out of her way to make him feel better. if anything it actually makes her trust and understand him more. and she gets him to crack a joke and smile!
the fact that not only was she not angry, but told him she completely understood that he had to consider giving her up to the governor, who she *knows* is a psychopath. that SHE of all people was the one to empathize with him for having to make that choice? that is truly bonkers when you think about it. a level of loyalty and understanding and care that makes very little sense considering how they still barely knew each other then. but it ~*~must have been something else then~*~
the way she bursts into tears of joy and looks to the sky in thanks after finding carl and rick after the prison. you know she would have been glad to find anyone when she started following that trail but you could tell that those two are who she wanted to find more than anyone else. and the fact that doing so seemed to restore her faith? shut up???
after she finds rick and carl she asks him "is this home? or just a stop along the way?" she was willing to stay put and build a home with just him and carl without bothering to look for anyone else. as @glamaphonic said, she claims them right then and there. (btw i noticed that a similar conversation happened with carol and tyresse in The Grove, and also with sasha and abraham in...some later episode idk which one, but they're in an office building. i just thought it was interesting! i wonder if the carol/tyreese instance was a nod to the comics?)
rick thinks that killing a man with his throat is the worst thing he's ever done. certainly carl saw it as monstrous (as it made him think he was a monster too, for being too similar to rick) even daryl backed away from it. only michonne saw it for the heroic act it was and it made her fall in love with him. and she made him feel better too. again, she sees a kindred spirit in him as someone willing to do anything, including things most people would not do, to protect his child.
she is always ready to back him up and fight with him, as well as for him. the only time she disagrees with him is when she knows there is a better option for them, and even then she's gentle and supportive while she convinces him there's a better way (directing the group to alexandria, "i'm still with you", the fight against n*gan, the end of towl 1x04, probably more that i'm forgetting). she considers him her equal in every way, and considering how self-reliant michonne is, that says everything.
okay but seriously the EASIEST way to piss michonne off is to talk shit about rick, talk shit to rick, put your hands on rick, or even just look at rick in a way she doesn't like. she just starts yelling and/ swinging, which is hilarious because she's normally so collected.
on the other hand the only thing that makes michonne lose her shit completely and genuinely panic is if rick is legitimately in danger (the end of 6x09, the bridge)
if she thinks he's dead, she straight up just. stops. mid battle. just drops her weapon and stops. i'm almost glad we never got flashbacks to the time immediately after the bridge because it might have been too devastating to watch.
she never rejects him. even when they're at odds, she's still goes out of her way to show him she still supports him (5x16, their kiss in 7x08).
rick straight up would not have survived losing carl if he hadn't had michonne. she is so loving and patient and gentle with him even through her own grief it's incredible. she loves him SO much (and i have to point out, rick is the same for her. as devastating as carl's death is, watching them work through it together was beautiful).
she is always trying to ease his burden and be a legitimate partner to him. there are countless examples of this but the big one for me is how she considers n*gan her responsibility after season 8. rick made the call but she backed him and kept backing him even though everyone was against them, even when they both had doubts. she completely meant it when she said she wanted for them to make all of their decisions together and for once he's not completely alone as a leader.
speaking of the n*gan thing. michonne stands in maggie's way until maggie asks her what she would have done if it had been rick who had been butchered in front of her, if she could have just let that go. definitely, the answer was no. just like rick couldn't have if it had been michonne.
(because she can't live without him anymore than he can live without her).
she was flipping over dead walkers for months after the bridge and did not move on for over 6 years because she could *feel* he was still alive despite all evidence to the contrary and also simply because there was no one else she wanted. it's him or no one. just as it's her or no one for him. you can actually see her flinch a little toward the end of her kiss with ezekiel.
wearing his clothes and wrapping them around herself like a hug when she really really missed him
talking to him long after he was gone
setting off to find him on foot over nothing more than a hint that he was alive
all of the ones who live. like, that would honestly need its own post but do we even need it? that show dialed this love story up to like a twenty. she spent an entire episode saving him from himself. almost died trying to find him in the first place. jumped his ass out of a helicopter. her faith in him and them saves the entire world.
truly, her response to his proposal/vows is spot on: "it could only ever have been you." it was always him, it was only ever going to be him. it's him, or it's no one.
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