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#you were one of the people i looked forward to chatting with again!!
126dvtn · 1 year
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REIDA HI I HOPE YOU'VE BEEN DOING MOSTLY WELL, and your exams went well !! nice to see you back omg <3 🥺💗✨
APOLLO AAA I HOPE YOU'RE DOING GREAT TOO!!! it's nice to be back and seeing my friends on tl again hehe!! what've you been into lately ;00
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yuitoru · 3 months
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𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 - 𝐒.𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
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🌀 — streamerbf! satoru gojo x fem! reader | 🌀 ft — fluff, angst(?) | 🌀 cw — swearing, satoru cant pull to save his life, mentions of death threats |
s.gojo streamer!au - the first time you make an (accidental) appearance on satoru's live stream
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"that guy is definitely cheating!!" satoru groaned in frustration as he ran his hands through his fluffy white hair, grimacing down at the now loading screen in front of him. the neon lights from his monitor shone onto his face, the brightness clearly way too high but he always refused to change it - as he squinted to read the influx of comments in the live comments of his stream, a certain few caught his eye.
fushtoji : 'this guy actually sucks.'
kamo_choso : 'dead game tbh'
a small scowl almost instantly formed on his face, his eyes narrowed as he stared dead at the screen. "firstly, i do not suck! that was one bad round!! and second, fortnite is not a dead game. its in its redemption arc and you know it," satoru huffed, his face resembling a pouty toddler. he spun in his chair to look over to where you where sprawled out on his bed, scrolling through your phone. "can you believe this?? my own viewers are bullying me!!"
meg_gumi : 'oh great hes talking to himself.'
yuujiii : 'is someone there?'
"i am not talking to myself! fucking hell, whats with everyone taking the piss out of me today..." satoru said with a sigh, looking over at you with a pout. "babyyyy, make them stop..!!" he whined, dramatically hanging his head in his hands. you laughed softly, sending him a small smile before going back to your phone - however, your laugh had been just audible enough for it to be picked up by satoru’s mic, resulting in a rapid increase in his live chat comments.
user19899 : ‘wait is someone acc there??’
phantom08 : ‘it sounded like a girl..’
fushtoji : ‘dont tell me this guy actually has a gf.’
satoru glared at his camera before groaning and rolling his eyes, a whiny tone in his voice as he huffed. "why is it so hard for you all to believe that i have a girlfriend??! honestly im hurt..."
ryokuna : 'negative rizz.'
"i dont see why youre talking after your girlfriend just broke up with you, sukuna!" satoru mocked, sticking his tongue out before spinning back around on his chair to face you again. he opened his arms for you to come cuddle him, as one of his hands reached towards his keyboard to disable the camera. you slid off of his bed and walked towards him, before sitting down on his lap and cuddling into his chest. satoru pressed an attack of kisses against the top of your head, his hands roaming up and down your back. what the two of you were unaware of was the fact that satoru hadnt turned off his camera, instead only muting the stream, meaning that both your face and the way you were curled up in his arms were visible to the entire stream - over 20k people, at least.
fushtoji : 'oh shit he does actually have a gf.'
gojoswhore : 'WHAT NO WAY'
meg_gumi : 'this guy out of everyone???'
the two of you stayed how you were, completely oblivious to the fact that your relationship had just been exposed to his whole fanbase, and that the news would practically spread like wildfire. after a few minutes, you shuffled a bit in satoru's arms, trying to get comfortable, but his monitor caught the corner of your eye, causing your face to drop in shock. satoru followed your gaze, eventually locking with his own eyes from his screen, as he realised what had just happened. he scrambled forwards to cover your face and turn off his camera, letting out a groan as he looked at you.
"shit, baby, 'm so sorry.. i honestly didnt realise," he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. he knew that you would eventually be shown on camera to meet his fans, but not this soon, and not like this. you two had just been shown in a private moment - something that satoru didnt want his audience to see. he looked up at you with an apologetic expression, before gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.
the chats had already started rolling in, with thousands of people commenting on your relationship, your appearance... it felt awful, like the entire world was now watching every single one of your movements and all having their own things to say about it. you couldnt have been on camera for more than a minute or two, but the chat was flooded with people's thoughts.
user38384 : 'shes pretty, but nothing special tbh'
kikio001 : 'kinda expected more from gojo'
miko3 : 'i think shes rly pretty, whats w the hate???'
mods had already started stepping in and removing the rude commenters, but the damage had already been done. people had seen your face for the first time, and were assuming all sorts of things about you. satoru noticed your downcast expression, and leaned forward to reach his keyboard, before unmuting himself, not bothering to turn the camera back on.
"if you are already commenting shit about my girlfriend, who you dont even know, and wont get to know the way i do, then youre honestly just a pathetic excuse for a human. show some more damn respect, its not hard to be a good person," and he ended the stream right there. wiping away any stray tears that had collected in your eyes, satoru smiled down at you before lifting you into his arms and standing from his chair, before carrying you back towards his bed and setting you down. he quickly slipped under the duvet with you, bringing your body into his chest as he sighed softly. "dont worry, baby.. ill sort this all out, okay? you dont have to ever come back onto the stream if you dont want to. i love you, pretty."
his gentle words, as well as his soft embrace, slowly lured you into your exhaustion - you were on the brink of sleep when you felt satoru press a feather-light kiss to your head, and that was the last thing you remembered before you fell asleep, completely safe and protected from all the harsh comments in satoru's arms, and that was the way that it would always be.
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© yuitoru™ — dont copy, plagiarise, repost, modify and/or translate my works
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moonstruckme · 30 days
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request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.
But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense
no stress if this isn't your jam <3
Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words
“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”
Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.” 
Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.” 
You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh. 
Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap. 
“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder. 
“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?” 
You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.” 
Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?” 
“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.” 
“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.” 
Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval. 
“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.” 
You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.” 
“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly. 
You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw. 
He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?” 
“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him. 
“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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For a few weeks, Claudia thinks that she’s collecting her son from the hospital after he’s visited Max Mayfield.
Then she finds out that’s only partly the truth.
Usually Dustin’s already waiting in the parking lot for her, Steve by his side. They chat, Steve insisting that he could drive Dustin home, it’s no trouble, and Claudia thanks him for the offer, kindly refuses; the poor boy looks run ragged these days.
One day neither of them are there, so she heads inside. There’s still a long line at reception, the aftermath of the earthquake, so she finds a nurse in a corridor, describes Dustin—my boy, about this high, curly hair (smiles like the sun, she wants to add)—and the nurse smiles, says, “Follow me, ma’am.”
She has a passing thought that this isn’t the direction to Max’s room, but reasons that she must’ve been moved. The nurse leaves her at the door before being called away.
Claudia opens the door quietly.
It’s not Max who’s in the bed.
She recognises him from the posters—his eyes first, then his long hair. He’s holding a battered copy of The Hobbit, the spine broken, and he’s reading so softly that she can’t quite make out the words.
And there, lying so peacefully against Eddie Munson’s shoulder, is Dustin. He’s fast asleep.
Eddie’s got an arm around him, and he’s slowly running his fingers through Dustin’s hair the way she used to when he was little, to help him drift off.
He looks up from his book at the sound of her entering the room, and his face goes as white as the bedsheets.
She takes one step forward.
Eddie inhales, breath stuttering, and it’s a fragile, heartbreaking sound.
Dustin stirs. “Hmm? Wha’s wrong?” He lifts his head up from Eddie’s shoulder, and his eyes meet Claudia’s, and he’s suddenly wide awake, scrabbling upright. “Mom.”
Eddie’s mouth keeps moving, like he’s desperately searching for words. “I-I’m not—” His breathing catches again, eyes wide; Claudia realises, with a heavy heart, that he’s deeply afraid of her. “It’s just a stupid board game, I swear.”
“Mom,” Dustin says again. Pleading.
And of course, Claudia never once believed the frenzied cries about Satanic rituals. Still, throughout that awful Spring Break, knowing that her son was lying to her, all she could think was that she was once a teenager, too—remembered how easy it could be to get caught up in something scary, something beyond your control.
She looks into Eddie Munson’s eyes, and knows deep in her bones that she has nothing to fear from him.
She beckons Dustin over, hands him the car keys.
“There’s a pillow on your seat, hon,” she says softly, because there’s a sleepy haze returning to his eyes despite his obvious concern for Eddie.
Dustin blinks, so unsure.
She smiles reassuringly. It’s okay. I promise.
“Okay,” Dustin says slowly, and he looks back at Eddie, raising his eyebrows like he wants to convince him of something. “See you tomorrow, Eddie.”
Eddie nods, but doesn’t speak.
He lifts his hand in a weak wave as Dustin leaves. It’s shaking. Claudia sits down by the bed. Puts her hand in his.
Eddie stares at her.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry for what we did to you.”
Eddie shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You didn’t—” He clears his throat. “It wasn’t you.”
Claudia shakes her head, too, slowly—prays that he can really hear this. “No, no, please. Listen to me. I’m so sorry.”
It would be an easy thing to say, that the town of Hawkins wronged Eddie Munson. But that would make it sound so impersonal: like it was inevitable, just one of these tragic things that happened, nothing to be done about it. Like earthquakes.
But that wasn’t true. People were behind this, and Claudia knows that they are all the town, every single one of them. And what did it say about them, that the fear and mistrust and cruelty spread like wildfire? That not one adult in the town hall stood up, begged people to stop, to think again?
“Th-thank you,” Eddie says. It sounds so uncertain, almost like a question.
Claudia squeezes his hand. “You were with Dustin, weren’t you?” she asks. “When the earthquake…”
His hand is shaking again.
“Yes,” he whispers. “I-I’m sorry, I—” He swallows. “I didn’t want a-anything to happen to him.”
“Oh, honey.” She reaches out cautiously, and when he doesn’t freeze up, she cups his cheek; her heart breaks at the rough indent of a scar beneath her palm. “You’re not God.”
Eddie reaches up, pressing her hand further against his cheek. He’s crying.
Claudia wipes his tears away as much as she can. She keeps up a steady murmur: “Shh, shh. I know you kept him as safe as you could. I know, I know. Shh.”
When he starts to calm, she thanks him again, but for something lighter.
“Dusty… he was so nervous, starting high school. But his first day, when I picked him up, all he could talk about was getting invited to have lunch with… well, a club.” Claudia smiles. “Oh, he was talking a mile a minute, I could hardly keep up. But I… oh, Eddie, I understand now. That was you.”
Eddie grins back. His cheeks are still wet.
“I didn’t do much,” he says. “You’ve…” For a moment, his eyes fill up again, but they look like happy tears. “You’ve got some kid, Mrs Henderson. He’s—he’s a real gem.”
She laughs. “Oh, I know.”
It’s one of the many things she loves about Dustin: that he’s always been so unashamedly, so joyously himself.
And Eddie had clearly seen that in him, had taken him in and nurtured everything that made him so.
The door abruptly slams open.
Steve’s in the doorway; he must’ve been running, is still gasping for breath as he says, panicked, “Claudia, I can—”
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, and that’s all.
But it’s clearly enough, because Steve’s shoulders drop in relief, and then he’s shutting the door, coming to Eddie’s bedside like he belongs there, and Eddie’s smiling at him, so tenderly…
And oh, she was young, once. She knows what she’s looking at.
Of course, she doesn’t mention it, can still sense some residual anxiety radiating from them.
Instead she looks around the room, spots a pile of laundry in the corner. It’s been stuffed into a bag; she recognises that as belonging to Steve, but there’s some shirts in there that are definitely Eddie’s, entwined with Steve’s things.
She stands, but before she can even pick up the bag, it seems like Steve’s read her mind, because he’s stepping forward, stopping her with a touch to her forearm.
“Oh, you don’t have to—I’m taking care of it, Claudia.”
She pats his cheek, lingers there until he smiles. “I know, sweetheart. But… would you let me? It’s the least I can do.”
Eddie reaches up from the bed, squeezes Steve’s elbow. Steve sighs, briefly leaning into him.
“Okay,” he says. “That’s… thank you.”
“As long as you do one thing for me.”
“Of course,” Steve says immediately. “Anything.”
Claudia brings out a notepad and pen from her bag. “Write me a list? Anything you’d like, I’ll be shopping anyway.” She looks Steve in the eyes, adds firmly but with a smile, “It’s no trouble.”
Steve takes the notepad, twirls the pen hesitantly.
“Anything you’d like,” Claudia repeats. She glances at Eddie, says, “You know, if you want a different shampoo than what they have here, things like that, or—”
“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Eddie says quickly. “Whatever’s on sale is—”
“I know, honey,” Claudia says patiently, “but what would you actually like?”
The last extended hospital stay she’d had was fifteen years ago; Dustin had been a preemie, and one of the few things that kept her calm was the familiar: scents, food, people…
Steve chuckles. “I’ve got it.” He writes on the notepad, and Eddie must be able to read it, because he suddenly turns a little pink.
“How did you know that?”
Steve shrugs, smiles. “I notice things.” He writes down just a couple more things, then hands the list back. “Thank you so much, Claudia.”
“Any time, sweetie, I mean it.” She hugs Steve goodbye, then reaches one last time for Eddie’s hand on the bedspread. “It was lovely to meet you, Eddie. Hope you can go home soon.”
“Yeah, me—me too. Thank you, Mrs Hend—” Steve squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie stops. Smiles. “Thank you, Claudia.”
She looks back once to shut the door behind her. Steve’s pulling up a chair, as close as he can get, and as the door closes, she hears him tut softly, gently swiping at the remaining trail of tears on Eddie’s face: “Hey, what—?”
They look like they belong together. Dustin’s boys.
Dustin’s asleep in the car, pillow pressed against the window. Claudia puts the bag of laundry in the trunk before quietly slipping into her seat.
Dustin wakes anyway as they drive out of the parking lot. “Eddie… okay?”
“He is, honey. Steve’s with him.”
“Mm… good.” There’s a pause, and Claudia thinks he’s fallen asleep again, but then he says, tentative, “Mom?”
“Yes, Dusty?”
“If I tell you something… d’you promise to keep it private?”
“As long as it’s not hurting anyone.”
“It’s not,” Dustin says firmly. “Um. Steve and Eddie, I think… I think they’re…”
Claudia smiles, nods encouragingly. “Oh, that’s lovely.”
Dustin hums in agreement. “They’ve not told me. Did I… do something wrong?”
“No, baby. You just keep doing what you’re doing.” Claudia feels a lump in her throat. “You’re a good friend.”
Dustin makes an uncertain noise.
“You are, baby. They love you very much, you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” Dustin sighs. “I know.” His eyes are closing.
“Sorry, baby, just before you sleep—are there any candies Steve and Eddie like?”
Dustin nods. “Eddie likes anything sweet. An’ Steve…” He yawns. “Anything w’peanut butter.”
“Great. Thank you, honey.”
Dustin’s already asleep.
Claudia knows that even with what she’s learned today, she still only has half a story, if that. That there’s something more to Dustin’s exhaustion, to just how Eddie ended up in a hospital bed.
Today, she’ll do all she can. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Laundry and shopping, reading the brand of shampoo Steve wrote with a careful eye. She’ll fill her cart up with treats, things that won’t solve anything; they might make staying in that hospital room just a little easier, though. Make it feel a little warmer, a little more like home.
But first, she’ll take her boy home; she’ll park the car as close to the front door as she can get, and when he doesn’t stir, she’ll run a hand through his hair, gently put him to bed.
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eveninggstar · 4 months
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Princess Treatment
Summary: Whilst on stream, your viewers ask why you don’t have “smoking fingers” and you provide an answer.
Warnings: reader smokes, reader is intended to be female, one sexual innuendo, pre-established relationship, reader gets nails done, no use of y/n
A/N: i watched a clip thing on tiktok of someone pointing out Jake’s fingers and it’s because of smoking so i thought why not have a cutesy girlfriend not ruin her freshly done nails.
also expect some Johnnie to come up i have three requests and they are actually amazing so tysm for them!!
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You were sat on your pink gaming chair, swaying side to side whilst you were beginning your stream. The viewers rolled in quick, as well as the various donations and quick messages.
A message catches your attention, halting your swaying. “Did you get your nails done?” you mutter to yourself as you lean forwards. “Oh yeah! I did.” You lifted your hands up vertically showing off your fresh nails. “Jake took me for my birthday.” You had a cheesy smile on your face as you brought your hands down. You put them under your thighs as your shoulders hunched up at the mere feeling talking about Jake gave you.
“I was going to get them done anyway,” you paused and thought about your incredibly outgrown nails prior. “if you saw my nails before…Wait! did i show you guys?” you rushed to your phone and went through your gallery.
You found the photo Jake had sent you. It was a picture of you squishing his cheeks together with both hands, and you can see how outgrown your nails were. You flipped your phone to the camera, trying different angles so your viewers could see. “Stop focusing on me,” you muttered angrily to your camera. It focused and showed the chat a cute picture of you and your boyfriend, with your outgrown nails.
“Like we took this when we went target, with Johnnie.” You set your phone down and talked with your hands, even more than usual with your nails. “He literally called me over and went,” you took a breath and made your voice higher in irritation to mock Jake’s, “Babe, show me your nails!” you scrunched your face up, then resorted to your natural voice, “And so i did that, he took a picture.” you paused, showing confusion in your face, “I think he put it on instagram, on his story. I swear he did something like that and.. was there a poll on if he should pay for me to get my nails done?”
Looking at the chat you see the confirmation, or the people who were unaware on how bad your nails looked in shock. You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, i have such a cute boyfriend the came with me and payed.” You showed your nails off again.
This time another message caught your attention, “If you smoke why don’t you have ‘smoker fingers’?” You furrowed your brows at the question. “What the fuck is smoker fingers?” You looked down to your keyboard and began to type ‘what is smoker fingers?’.
“Okay Chat, smoker fingers are~” you dragged out the final word, “Yellowish discoloration on the ends of your fingers from holding a cigarette; wait!” you look at your fingers. “Oh i know why!” you were about to answer when you got a phone call from Jake.
“Hello, i’m streaming.” you held up your speaker to the microphone.
“You wanna know why your fingers aren’t yellow?” Jake yelled in irritation.
“Why?” you giggled with your hand over your mouth.
“Because you always make me hold your cigarettes! Look at my fingers!”
“I can’t, we’re not on facetime,” you were proved wrong as he came through your door behind you. You turned around to see him just stood there with a hand on the door handle and the other on his hip.
You look at the camera, then the stream to see what the viewers were seeing. Then you turned to see Jake still in the same position, causing you to lean into your hands that were propped up on your desk and failed to conceal your laughter. Jake then strutted up to the camera and held up his yellowing fingers with nails littered with chipped polish.
“Look! This is what she does, making me hold her cigarettes!” he then turned away from the camera to look at you cracking up and trying to hide in your hands. “What do you have to say about this?” he then held him fingers up to your face.
“Cigarettes are gross,” you spoke in a small voice with a smile on your face as you peered up at him.
“So you have it inside of your body?” Jake questioned and looked down at you.
“Well, i do that with you. Don’t I?”
He stood there in shock and strutted out towards the door, then he turned around with a cock of his hip.
“Never speak to me again!” he spoke in an accent, then went to another accent. (idk how to describe it it’s kinda like a pageant mum?) “Love you, sweetie.” he opened and closed his hand in a wave and left your room, leaving you laughing your ass to your audience.
781 words
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kettlefire · 7 months
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Booo-merang Trouble DP x DC Idea
Okay but leeching off the idea that Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and I probably saw a post about this somewhere. I just for the love of me can't find it. If anyone knows it, please link it so I can credit!:
Jason isn't even on patrol, he's visiting the manor. His chilling, eating away at lunch. He doesn't come to the manor often, but he always needs a dose of his crazy family every once in a while. There's no way he'd stay away from Alred's cookies for long.
Then boom, something shatters the window behind him. On instinct, Jason moves. Taking cover and trying to get a sight of the situation. Of the perceived attack. However, before Jason could do much a heavy object rams into his chest before landing on the ground before him. It doesn't really hurt, nothing compared to his prior injuries.
A boomerang. A glowing green and silver boomerang laid on the ground before him. Jason's a million and one ways confused as he stared at the device. His hands carefully picking it up, and looking over the softly beeping device.
Jason thinks maybe it's a bomb, but something in his gut says otherwise. He can think of a million different things it could be. Maybe one of the rogues got a hold of their DNA, and it tracked them. Maybe it's going to expel a gas any moment, an attack on the Waynes rather than their vigilante personas.
Except it's none of that. The beeping stops and suddenly a robotic voice sounds from the boomerang.
"Ghost located, prepare for your end ghoul."
Jason tenses once again at the clear threat in those words. His gaze scans around the kitchen, still crouched behind the kitchen counter. Except nothing happens.
Except for a voice ringing out from the boomerang once again. This time, this time it's not a robot. It's a clear record of a young woman speaking. Her voice filled with fear, concern, and urgency.
"Okay, this should work right? You know what, that doesn't matter. No one but you should have a signature. Beside's Tucker thinks he set this up to go to you only. So Danny, you should be hearing this..."
Jason only finds himself more confused. The urgency in this girl's voice was enough to keep his nerves on edge. It sounded important, but Jason had no clue who these people are. Who these names could be refering to.
"Danny... Things here aren't doing to good. Look, I know why you left. You have every reason to. What mom and dad did... It's unforgivable and I don't expect you to come back. But, thing is..."
There's a lull in the recording. The distant sound of soft chatting. If Jason strained his ears, he could somewhat pick of the sound of another woman and man.
"Everyone thinks Phantom is dead. Which I would think is a good thing, but it's not. Danny, the GIW is on a rampage now that you aren't here. Mom and dad are on their side..."
Jason made the conclusion that the speaker was this Danny's sister. The message was intended for him, yet it somehow landed in Jason's lap.
"They have everyone locked up in the school... Radars to see if anyone has a signature, and if they do... They separate them from everyone else."
Jason's brows furrowed, finally pulling himself to a stand. He placed the boomerang on the kitchen counter. Leaning forward as he took in the words.
"We don't know what they are doing. Sam, Tucker, and Valerie... We're all hiding. We'll have the highest signatures, and... Listen Danny..."
Jason had a growing pit in his gut. He knew something wasn't right. These people were in danger. It didn't matter he didn't know about what, or who the GIW was, but these people needed help.
"... We need you. We need Phantom, baby bro. I'm sorry, I know you're still recovering. We can handle things here, but please. Please tell me you're still alive, you're in Gotham right? Tell me you're safe, and you're healing and still kicking Danny."
Jason swallowed, placing his hands flat on the kitchen counter. He needed to get this down to the cave. Have the computer tracked where it came from. But Jason couldn't move, not at the sound of pure desperation in this woman's voice.
"I just need to know you at least made it out of this nightmare. I don't care how you do it, just please let me know things are okay... They have... They have Vlad, Danny. Things are complicated, and I hate to put this on you... But Amity needs Phantom..."
The recorded suddenly broke into static, but Jason thinks he got enough of what he needed. Amity. The place these people were was called Amity. It gave him a lead, something for them to work with.
"Da... We... Help... They..."
Jason could hear the woman's voice breaking through the static. He gripped the boomerang, turning on his heels and heading towards the cave.
"Sam... Mom... Tech... I..."
Every broken word only fueled Jason's own urgency. Jason felt a strange urge, a connection. Something that told him he had to help. They needed to help. The boomerang found him, and that had to mean something.
"... I love you, Danny..."
Those four words were the clearest compared to rhe rest of it. It made Jason's heart seize, and he took a breath. He was going to help.
It didn't matter if Jason didn't know these people. If they weren't from Gotham. This was important, and something told Jason he needed to find this Danny.
Danny would be the only one that would know that to do. If Jason manages to rewind the recording, he was certain Bruce would be equally on board.
That voice, the emotions that dripped from it. It gave the sense that this wasn't just life or death. This was a world ending problem.
And Jason would be damned if he ignored it.
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
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hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”
i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏
keeping it in the family
wc: 1.6k
cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven
note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 
“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 
“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 
“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”
“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”
“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 
“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 
“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”
“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”
“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”
“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”
“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 
“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 
“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”
“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 
“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”
“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.
“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 
“I think I’d rather die–”
“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 
“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”
“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.
"That would be so awesome."
“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”
“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 
“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”
“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”
“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”
“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”
“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”
“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”
“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”
“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.
“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”
"Dude, just ignore them."
“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 
“You think I don’t get into relationships?”
“Bakugo…”
“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”
“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–
“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."
"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."
“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.
“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 
“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”
“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”
“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”
“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”
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too-much-tma-stuff · 29 days
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Finally Getting Help (prt. 10)
Mastterpost
A/N: Thank you all for the well wishes about my dog. Unfortunately he didn't make it and pass away Tuesday morning in the vet's office. I was able to get some writing done but I don't have the energy to edit. Let me know if you find any mistakes.
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Jason: hey, thanks for the gun and the tech, it's really cool.
Danny: new phone who dis 😝
Jason: I hope you haven't given too many people guns in the last couple days.
Danny: no I haven't, thanks for texting me Jason. Have you got a chance to try the gun?
Jason: not on anything moving, I've been doing some target practice to get a feel for it though. Looking forward to when I can test it on Vlad.
Danny: aww are you going to avenge my honor 🥺
Jason: if you want me too. I'll bring you his head if you want me too.
Danny: 🥰 you're so sweet. I wouldn't say no to seeing him suffer for what he's done but don't get yourself in any trouble okay? And if you do call me right away. I'll come rescue you 😘
Jason: hey I'm the one offering to protect you! 
Danny: we can protect each other. And fight each other, can you come spar again soon?
Jason: I wouldn't call that sparring, more like brawling.
Danny: eh potato potato, do you want to come fight me again?
Jason: if demon brat won't kill me for it, sure. Can I take you out for dinner afterwards? I have some questions
Danny: It's a date! Just tell me when
Jason: Day after tomorrow? I have some work to take care of first.
Danny: Sounds great! And it is a date right? You don't mind that I'm going to have kids?
Jason: the kids aren't a deal breaker I promise but let's not jump the gun okay? We're going to be family through B so we don't want this to blow up in our faces. Let's hang out, take it slow, see how it goes. You need to be careful about who you let into your life now anyway, you can't just let anyone around you and the babies.
Danny: don't tell me what to do 😠 but you're right. I'm bad about rushing into things. I'm still looking forward to it.
Danny: By the way Jazz uploaded the power point she made about Liminals and Ghosts to the bat’s server thing. You have access to that right? You should read that before we meet and I can fill in the gaps.
Jason: Sounds good, I’ll have a look at it and I’m looking forward to it too. I'll be there at 5 so we can spar before dinner. Don't forget to warn B and your guard dog.
Danny: Damian is a good kid. I'll let them know.
Danny stared at his new phone Tim had given him with apprehension. The chat with Jason had gone very well, and Danny was glad he reached out but there were other people he really needed to reach out to and he was… frankly scared. Sam and Tucker were his best friends and had always been there for him but they both had tempers. Would they be mad that he hadn’t told them he was pregnant? Would they be upset he had left Amity and wasn’t planning on coming back?
He needed to reach out though, the longer he waited the harder it would be to talk to them, and things wouldn’t stay calm as they were now. Vlad would be back to cause trouble again and even though the JLD had control of the portal but he was sure his rogues would find their way through eventually. Vlad had his own portal anyway, and Danny wouldn’t put it past him to open it just to annoy Danny. Maybe try and weaken him a little so Vlad could swoop in and pick him off.
Today was quiet, he needed to take this chance. He sighed and got up off the edge of his bed where he was sitting and ducked out of his room. He didn’t want to do this alone, so he wasn’t surprised when he found himself in the library where Jazz was studying. 
He sat down across from her and reached across, laying his hand, palm up on the table. Without looking up from her book she reached over and placed her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiled at her and took a deep breath before putting on his earbuds and sending a message in the group chat.
Danny: When you guys are ready can we call?
Jazz phone went off too and she checked it, smiled at Danny, and then silenced the chat and went back to her book. She didn’t need to be part of this call but at least she knew what he was doing. 
Sam: Yes, let me just grab Tuck. He’s playing Doomed.
Danny took a deep breath and put down his phone while he waited for them to call and tried not to panic.
When the phone buzzed he jumped and reached for it, joining the call quickly. 
“Hey guys,” He said, awkwardly, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone.
“Hey yourself! What the heck happened Danny?! Basically the whole town joined in in chasing Vlad when we found out what he did but why did we have to find out on tv?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Sam said, but at least she just seemed stressed, not actually angry.
“I’m sorry guys,” Danny said, wincing a little when he heard Tucker sniffling a little. “I hadn’t told anyone yet. I hadn’t even fully accepted it yet honestly.
“I still wasn’t ready to talk about it, bur Cass is really good at reading people's body language and I guess she clocked that I was carrying them by how I kept unconsciously touching my stomach. When she asked me about it it sorta broke through my denial and I broke down which started the ball rolling on… all this,” He said with a vague gesture.”
“All this is right!The justice league really brought the hammer down on Amity. They’re dismantling the GIW and really pissed at the government and basically all the adults in the town for letting this happen. And they arrested your parents!” Sam said sounding almost excited.
“Sam! That was really insensitive! They’re still his parents, what if he didn’t know!?” Tucker broke in furiously. 
“No it’s alright I knew, Jazz told me. She’s here with me,” He said squeezing her hand though she wasn’t paying attention to the call.
“Okaaay so where is Here?” Tucker asked warily. 
“Ya are you safe? We haven’t seen you since all this went down! Are you really with Bruce Wayne?” Sam asked sounding wary.
“Yes I am. He’s got a foster license and since his kids were the one that found out what was going on it just made sense that I’d stay here.”
“And he’s Not another Fruitloop?” Sam asked warily. “You need to be careful with these rich people you know? They’re basically all crazy!”
“Sam you’re rich,” Danny pointed out, amused. 
“Ya, and? My point stands!”
“Fair enough,” Danny laughed. “But no, I did some snooping the first night I was here and it seems okay. And since he’s got close ties to the Justice League he was able to get the help we really needed, and he says he might be able to help me meet Martian Manhunter!”
“Don’t fanboy out too bad,” Tucker teased him.
“Oh ya? And what if I helped you meet Tim Drake? Would you not be just as bad,” Danny accused Tucker.
“Touche,” Tucker said. “Could you though?”
“I mean maybe? He’s my foster brother now and he seems cool. You two are my best friends, if I’m going to stay I’m sure you could come visit me and meet all of them.” 
“Are you really going to stay there though? I mean once the GIW and everything is cleared out you could stay with either of us. I know my parents aren’t your biggest fans but I know they’d let you stay,” Sam said sounding worried. 
“And I know my family doesn't have a ton of money but they adore you, we’d make it work,” Tucker added looking worried.
“No, guys I really appreciate the offer but… I don’t want to come back to Amity. The Justice League said they shut down the portal and I really need a fresh start I think. I think I’d rather stay here. Jazz too, she’s gonna study at Gotham U and intern at Arkham,” He said. She looked up at the mention of her name and gave him a small smile.
“I’m sorry, you guys are my best friends and I’ll miss you, but there are too many… memories in Amity you know?”
“Ya I get that,” Sam said, looking sad and distant.
“We can still call, and play Doomed together, and visit on breaks!” Tucker said, his chipper tone sounding a little forced. “We’re going to say friends!” He insisted and Danny smiled.
“Of course we will Tuck,” He promised. They might grow apart with the distance between them, but he hoped not, they really were his best friends.
“Ya, my parents will probably be thrilled about this development and want me to come over all the time. They love the Waynes,” Sam chuckled though her optimism also seemed a bit forced. Of course she was more of a pessimist, she probably thought they would drift apart, but knew Danny needed them right now. 
“Soo what’s been going on in Amity since I left?” Danny asked, letting them ramble about the drama, the rumours, and the bullshit that was the bullies and everyone in the school sudden;y pretending they cared about Danny soooo much.
After they finished telling him about it there were a few beats of silence and Danny was just about to suggest they hang up when Sam spoke up again. 
“So, what actually happened with Vlad? If you don’t want to talk about it that’s okay but…”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not what- what you’d think. It’s superhero bullshit really. When I wouldn’t be his son he decided to try and clone me, you met Dani with an I right? She was one of the clones. But he didn’t know I was trans, and my DNA got all fucked up in the portal so none of the clones were stable. I have no idea how many he tried to make that died. But when I found out it was because he had lied to Dani and told her he needed me to stabilize her clone brothers. It was a batch of ten.
“But he lied, he didn’t actually care about stabilizing them, he was going to let them all die. I was only able to save the two that were most stable and only by taking their cores into myself. So I’m not normal pregnant, I’m ghost pregnant. 
What is my life huh?” He finished, chuckling awkwardly. 
“Oh fuck,” Sam said her shoulders slumping a little even as her expression went through a range of emotions. “That’s better in a way but still a whole different type of fucked up! I hope they catch him soon.”
“I hope so too but I don’t think they will,” Danny said with a shrug. “Not before he tries something else. I’m not lucky enough to be able to just move past this,” He said with a bitter little laugh.
“Well, we can still hope. And even if he does cause trouble you have more allies now! You’ve been able to handle everything else he’s thrown at you basically on your own, with the Justice League behind you I know there’s nothing you can’t handle. I mean, Vlad is kind of pathetic anyway,” Tucker encouraged making Danny smile. 
“Ya, you’re right, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thanks guys,” he said fondly. 
“Of course dude! We’re here for you!” Tucker said.
“It’s really good to hear from you too. Don’t be a stranger okay?” Sam said, a bit worried.
“Of course not, I’ll keep you posted I promise.” Danny assured before they said their goodbyes and he hung up. 
He put down his phone and leaned back with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. Next to him Jazz chuckled and there was a soft snap as she closed her book. 
“You did well little brother,” She told him, getting up from her seat she moved behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders.
“How do you know? You weren’t listening.”
“No, but you reached out to your friends and had an honest conversation which isn’t easy. You did well,” She reiterated, squeezing his shoulders.
“Well thanks Jazz. I hope that they’re right that we won’t lose touch, and I’ll be able to handle whatever Vlad does,” He grumbled. 
“I’m sure we will,” Jazz promised. “And either way there’s no point in worrying about it now. Has Jason texted you yet?” She asked, giving Danny the excuse he needed to change the subject and launch into his more petty worries about the upcoming date as she sat back down to listen.
Next
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nervoussagittarius · 10 days
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what could possibly go wrong?
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matt sturniolo x influencer!reader
summary: matt tries to teach his girlfriend how to play fortnite on a twitch stream, request
warnings: lots of fluff, swearing, fortnite?, some suggestive jokes, yapper! reader
“babe, come sit with me. i just started the stream. people are joining, only for you i think” matt laughed
“of course they are they love me. i keep it real and i’m hilarious” you replied pulling out the extra chair by matt’s desk and sitting down.
“okay, so here’s your controller, and i’m gonna put the headset on you so people can hear you talk.” matt gently placed the headset on you and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.
matt got up for a second telling you that he was going to the kitchen to get a drink. you jokingly slapped his ass on his way out. you quickly looked between the camera and the chat trying to read what everyone was saying.
“guys, you want to know what i was thinking about today?” you waited to see their responces even though you were most likely going to tell them anyway.
“so i was driving around la today, and it’s getting hot out again, so everyone’s driving their convertibles. and i drove past like four of them. all i could think about was how easy it would be to steal the car, not that im going to, but how do people feel comfortable leaving their shit open like that”
matt walked back in as you continued to rant about convertibles, “i don’t know about you but half of my life is in my car. if i had a convertible people could easily just take all of my stuff”
matt looked at you dumbfounded, “what are you on about kid?” you looked up at him with admiration on your face.
“im telling them how i feel about convertibles. look they’re mad that you interrupted me.” you pointed at the chat. they were all waiting for you to finish your thought. “this is why we don’t like men guys, they just like to interrupt and be the center of attention”
matt cut you off before you could go on another tangent. “okay, we all know they love when you come on here, but let’s play fortnite.”
you looked at matt trying to hold yourself back. you looked at the camera and gave them a wink.
“what”
“… that’s what she said”
you stood up when you noticed something on the shelf about matt’s desk.
“dude you ass is in my face, and your…boobs… are in the camera” he said awkwardly as he pulled your arm for you to sit back down. he waited to see what you grabbed.
“don’t act like it’s the first time my ass has been in your face,” you sat down holding up your space camp lipbalm to the camera. “shameless plug. go buy it right now. immediately. instantly.”
you applied the chapstick as matt looked at you with puckered lips. he was expecting you to apply the lipbalm on him but instead you gave matt a kiss with a giggle.
“okay so fortnite” matt said trying to get you back on track, blushing.
“yes yes let’s do it” you replied.
“do you know how to use the controller?”
“yes sir, i think i do”
matt looked at you with a raised eyebrow in question. you didn’t let up though, you were sure you could figure out how to use the controller in secret.
“so you have to start by picking a character.”
“i’m indecisive. can you pick for me?” you said with a smile.
“no babe, you got it just pick one.” matt said with a chuckle. he set his chin in your shoulder to get a better look.
“i’m gonna go bonkers if i have to make decisions this whole time, matt”
“no there’s just one i promise. everything else is preloaded from me so you don’t have to worry,” he leaned forward to kiss your neck lovingly.
“i love when you make things easy for me. thanks baby.” you said taking your hand off the controller for a second to lace your arm through matt’s.
matt and you had been together for a while now, and with you both having lives on the internet a lot of your relationship was public.
the fans went crazy for anything related to the two of you. they loved you guys together. you had very different personalities, but it seemed to click flawlessly. they always said that opposites attract.
while matt was more reserved, you tended to speak your mind and talk about anything and everything. you were a certified yapper and proud of it, baby. your yapping kept the fans fed on the insides of yours and matt’s relationship. consensually of course.
“okay, so you’re just going to drop in and see what happens”
“what do you mean drop in? im just letting myself fall?” you were very confused on the workings of video games.
“yep, now just make sure you aware of your surroundings”
“making sure i’m aware of my surroundings, got it. i’m just gonna run over here and see what i can find.” you drowned on.
things went smoothly for a couple minutes. you managed to stay alive and not show that you really didn’t know what you were doing with the gaming controller.
all of a sudden you heard distant shots being fired from behind you. not thinking anything of it you kept of running about.
“y/n they’re shooting at you.”
“oh! wait what? where?” you had no clue what was happening. things were going by so fast.
“turn around and shoot at them.”
“matt what?” he was trying to point to where they were on your screen. “dude i don’t even know how to shoot”
“what! i thought you said you knew how to use the controller”
“yeah well i lied” you said panicked.
“these teenage boys are probably laughing at me and that’s a scary thought. teenage boys are scary.” you whined.
you kept pressing random buttons trying to figure out how to fire back, but it was no use. you rushed and threw the controller in matt’s hands so he could take over.
he some how managed to get the kill and your player only ended up injured.
by this point you had given up on the attempts to play fortnite.
you let matt fully take over now. as he played a few more rounds you began to converse with the chat. answering questions and just rambling about some interesting topics.
“y/n what’s going on in your head right in this moment?” you read from the chat. “um, i was thinking about how i was vlogging earlier and there was a spider in my room. i simply couldn’t believe it. i trapped it, but i made matt come get it out of my house”
“that’s very true. i had to drive over there for moral support.”
“my knight in shining armor.” you smiled, looking up at him. “my handsome prince”
matt blushed from your comment as he finished the game he was in while you continued taking to the viewers. you guys decided to wrap things up 5 minutes later.
“how are you feeling now that you know kinda how to play?” matt questioned.
“i feel like i’d rather sit next to you and talk to the chat while you play then actually play myself. i think i’m more content watching you play, but it was a good experience. thank you for teaching me, baby” you kissed matt on the cheek as he began to end the stream.
“i’m gonna be honest, i was stressed for you.” matt stated.
“i was to anxious. i didn’t like having to be in high alert 24/7”
“alrighty, bye guys thanks for hanging out with us”
you blew a kiss to the camera as the filming came to an end.
“can we go to bed now,” you questioned matt as you stretched and got out of your chair.
“yeah of course we can” matt replied pulling you over to his mattress with him.
an: i hope you enjoy this. tbh i know nothing about fortnite so i hope this made sense and met your expectations 🤍🤍
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radicallxser · 1 month
Text
pt 2 to this post, can be read as a standalone but makes more sense if you've read the first part. reader isn't wearing a suit but remains pretty androgynous (i think). also yes i included steph's baby fight me idc
not beta read pls don't make fun of me
Why had you agreed to this?
A coworker had invited you to a gala, something about representing the company. You weren't sure why you of all people were asked, or why the coworker, what's his name, was so insistint you attend with him. Especially after he ditched you the moment you both arrived.
You stand awkwardly, swirling the drink you had accepted earlier. A few straggling groups chatted nearby, gossiping about things you didn't care enough to pay attention to. You had better things to think about, like how were you getting home and when you could leave.
Even more important; how was the baby? Was she alright? The sitter you hired wasn't your usual one, but she had vanished without a trace and it was such short notice-
Something, someone, collided with yourself.
"I'm so sorry-" That's what you get for standing near the stairs!
You look up quickly, meeting the gaze of one of the boys you had met the other day. His lips twitch downwards, his eyes focused on the spot where your drink had collided with your clothing. Before you can react, he sets his suit jacket over your shoulders.
"I'm so sorry", he states quickly, opening his mouth to add something else before being cut off by you.
"It's alright, Jason."
His looks shocked for a moment, before his lips turn up into a grin.
"You remembered my name!" He speaks in a town that seems uncharacteristic for him. Pure delight coats his face and he opens his mouth again just to be cut off.
"Jay-Jay! Look what you did!" Another familiar face approaches, a grin adorning the young man's features. He slaps Jason on the back, then turns to you.
"Sorry about my brother." Your brows furrow at this.
"Brothers..?"
"Not by choice", Jason adds quickly, "Atleast, not our choice."
The urge to ask is immediately wiped away as another familiar face approaches, tailed by someone you hadn't met and who's attention was trained on their phone.
The shorter of the two, the one who you had encountered before, spoke up in a clear tone that didn't quite suit his age.
"Father says to quit harassing the guests, Richard, and he'd like to speak with you, Jason."
Jason rolled his eyes. The boy on his phone timidly glanced up, flashing a quick smile.
"Hello", he spoke, then looked back toward his phone.
The shortest of them stared at you, his expression indifferent.
"My name is Damian Wayne. I'd like to thank you for the other day." You smile softly at him, then the realization dons on you.
'Damian Wayne, as in Bruce Wayne's son...?' Your thoughts are yet again interrupted by a voice.
"Boys!"
His voice is clearer in real life, but unmistakably him. You turn, watching one Bruce Wayne approach your small group. His smile seems to light up the room.
He's more handsome in real life, slight crow's feets crinkling near his eyes when he laughs and a shock of gray through his hair.
His arm is looped with a young blonde woman, a baby only a bit older than your own settled in the crook of her other arm. They both smile, stopping in front of you and the boys. Jason's hand suddenly disappears from your shoulder and everyone seems to take a step back.
You smile politely, extending your hand to him.
He takes it, unlooping his arm with the gorgeous woman and bending to press a kiss to it. He feels a pang of anger when he feels the callouses and scars on your hands. Standing straight once again, he grins.
"It's a pleasure, Mx...", your eyes widen when he speaks your last name. How did...?
His eyes trail over your form, then scan the faces of the boys surrounding you. He shakes his head.
"I apologize for their lack of manners. Please, boys, introduce yourselves."
The blonde woman steps forward, smiling at you.
"I'm Stephanie", she adjusts the infant in her arms, taking your hand and giving it a tender squeeze.
You notice Jason taking up a spot directly behind you, standing over you, or atleast attempting to.
"We've been introduced", he speaks gruffly, more to his father than to you. This atmosphere suddenly becomes thick with tension, it makes you shift in unease.
Dick puts himself between Stephanie and Bruce, smiling sheepishly.
"It's Richard Grayson, everyone calls me Dick."
The boy that was previously on his phone snickers, Bruce shoots him a pointed look.
"It's Tim", the boy mutters, immediately piping back down.
Damian takes up the other other side of Bruce and you note thier similar features.
"Well, it's been wonderful meeting you all, but I should be leaving", You smile awkwardly, pulling Jason's jacket tighter around your shoulders.
"Let me treat you to dinner", Bruce speaks almost desperately, then clears his throat, "to make up for my sons' rudeness."
Suddenly you're sat in a limo, stuck between Jason and Bruce.
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chilumi-shipper · 1 year
Text
When You Finally Give Up
Kaeya x GN!Reader
Summary: You notice that he's changed how he act around you. No longer happy to see you, no longer smiling or teasing, no longer enjoying your company. You try your hardest to get him to like being with you again, but he just act annoyed at you all the time. There's only so much your heart can take.
Tags: Hurt/little to no comfort, drinking, Kaeya regrets
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
You see him happily chatting with someone else at the Angel's Share, he had a smile on his face.
He talked among his fellow knights, he spoke with such cool energy.
He will be out early in the morning, late at night, never ever just at home.
Never ever just with you.
"Darling! Welcome home!" You greeted him with a usual warm welcome, spreading your arms for a hug.
It was very late, his eyes were droopy and he smelled of alcohol. You're just glad he's home before midnight, unlike the usual time he heads home.
He walked passed you, but like always, you shrugged off his cold response to your welcome.
"I made dinner a few hours ago, they've probably gone cold now, hehe." You laughed sheepishly as you followed him to the kitchen. "Might help in soaking up the booze, though." You gestured at the meal you made for him sitting on the dining table.
"I'm not hungry."
"Oh, but I can run you a bath if you want! You stink!" You laughed, but it seems that he did not find your words amusing, so your laugh died down very awkwardly.
"I'm going to bed." Kaeya heads for the stairs, wanting to go to the bedroom. "Don't bother me."
You watched as he lazily carried himself up the stairs, you wanted to help him, but you knew he'd try to push you away.
Too many nights have been like this.
Too many meals gone cold.
Too many hugs not returned.
Too many "welcome home"s with no response.
And you're getting tired.
He's changed, and you could no longer be the person he wants to be his significant other.
You tried not to wake him up with your sobs that night, along with many other nights.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
After a night out with some friends, Kaeya once again came home drunk.
He stood in the living room, about to collapse just like always. He remain standing there, as if he was subconsciously waiting for something to happen.
When nothing did come up, he stood there confused.
Where are you?
"Y/N!" He yelled out.
He straightened up, walking around while calling your name. When he made it into the kitchen, his eyes widen and he immediately sobered up.
The Cavalry Captain urgently got down on his knees right beside your unconscious body lying on the floor.
Just like him... you reeked of alcohol, which he found such a misplaced scent around you. You never drink.
Quiet snores came from your lips, you seemed wasted and he knew it wouldn't be the best thing ever to wake you up when you're in such a condition.
He carried you to bed, changed your clothes to something more comfortable and proceeded to cuddle up with you for the night.
Kaeya has faint memories of you doing that for him when he comes home wasted.
He woke up in the morning and you weren't there.
It was pretty normal for the weekends, you'd wake up earlier than him to make breakfast, which he is looking forward to.
"Good morning, Kaeya."
When did that start to happen? When did your voice become so monotonous? When did you start calling him by name instead of a pet name?
You had breakfast ready as always.
...
"Do you know where they are?" Kaeya was panicking, he had been looking for you for hours. When he went home, you weren't there at all, so he'd been all around the city looking for you
Diluc looked at him unamused, "Upstairs." He answered in merely one word.
Kaeya wasted no time by commenting on Diluc's dry response, immediately heading up the second flour of Angel's Share to look for you.
You were there, drinking with a few people, wearing clothes you would never usually wear, a carefree smile on your face.
Your cheeks were tinted red, indicating that you may already be wasted.
He took quick steps towards you, holding your wrist still when you tried to drink another swing of wine. "I've been looking for you for Barbatos knows how long!"
You looked up to him, trying to wiggle his hand off your wrist. "Well, you found me! Why don't you join us for some brain mushing drinks, babe?" It was the first time he didn't like a pet name you called him.
It was too... not you. Everything that you're doing now is not you.
"Please, let's just go home." His voice was almost begging, but you ignored him.
"Come on, me and my buddies haven't even been had our money's worth of beer." Kaeya pulled you from your seat, taking the bottle of wine out of your hand and onto the table.
"Hey!"
"You're drunk and you need to go home, let's go back home, love."
And so you did. He supported you as you walked back home, and he couldn't deny how much he wanted to burst into tears when he saw you. It was pathetic really.
...
"Welcome home!"
"Look, look! I figured out a technique to make heart shaped pancakes without the little tool thingy."
"Love, you shouldn't drink too much! If I catch you drinking again, I'm gonna leave you lying on the side of the road."
"Good night, Kaeya! I love you..."
Words cannot describe how much he misses you.
He caressed your cheek as you slept next to him. "Good night, Y/N... I love you..."
"Please come back to me."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Wanted to upload something short and sweet (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
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luveline · 4 months
Note
hello lovely, I was wondering if I could ask for a soft remus request. maybe loser!reader where someone made them feel invisible and remus comforts them? I hope that makes sense ily <3
ily ty for requesting!! <3 fem, 1.3k
“Come on, poppet,” Sirius says in one of his teasing tones as he puts a hefty looking glass of pale ale in front of you, “cheer up and get sloshed.”
“Oh, I really don’t want to drink tonight,” you say, surprised he’d get you something. 
“That’s for me. This,” —he puts a short glass to the pale ale— “is for you. From him.” 
You look up from the dark table to spy said him across the way. Remus stands behind the bar with a relaxed smile, arms holding himself up and biceps just that little bit tight against his sleeves. You send him a shy smile. 
It’s an ice cold mix of your favourite. You send him another smile as you drink it, not sure how to cope with the fact that he’s still looking at you when you do. He raises his eyebrows a touch before a customer steals his attention. 
“He should really quit,” James says happily. “He’s enabling me.”
You push the bowl of roasted peanuts toward him. “Abstinence,” you say. You’re still feeling wobbly, not quite happy, but better to move forward then dwell on things. Plus, Remus’ nice smile reminds you that he’s on your side.
“Remus gives you a Help to Stop card every time you buy a second round,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. 
“But Marlene lets me drink as much as I want.” James waves at her. She blows him a kiss from the table she’s bussing two chairs over. “Bad place. Takes advantage of me. And there’s too much riff raff.”
You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Right.”
They chat to each other enough to make up for your silence and Remus’ absence. He’ll be off any minute now, joining you for a quick drink if he’s awake enough to manage it before you head home. You can’t bring yourself to watch him, knowing he’ll be chatting, giving pretty girls polite smiles and prettier boys their refills. He can be charismatic when he wants to be. He’s a natural flirt deep down. You hope he doesn’t flirt with other people. 
He wouldn’t. 
Or maybe he would? You’re not exciting like that. 
“Penny for your thoughts, lovely girl?” 
He says it quietly, pressing his pet name into the side of your head as he slips into the chair next to yours. Suddenly he’s here. He sneaks up on you too often. 
“Not worth the penny,” you murmur back. 
“I don’t think that’s true. Do you want another drink? I’ve closed my line, but I–”
You shake your head, not having finished the first one he sent over. He smells like the too sweet cloy of beer, but his breath is minty on your cheek. “Fine, be that way. You make it hard to spoil you.”
“Yuck.” 
“Ew,” he agrees. Remus gives the top of your shoulder a gentle shake. “Not feeling well?” 
“She was attacked, Moons, I told you this,” Sirius says.
You glare at him as Remus says, “Mm. You okay?” 
“I wasn’t attacked, that’s– you know. It was the opposite of an attack. I was–” Ignored. You attempt to shove it down even as the memory surges up, the heat of knowing you’d been deemed a loser, the shrug off, the giggling. “Sirius.” 
“What? If I didn’t tell him he would’ve been pissed off with me and you know I can’t afford butter right now. I need my toast fix.” 
James and Sirius are nice, good guys, but Remus is the only person who can really make you feel better. He knows it. You all know it. But it’s too embarrassing to divulge the details of what happened. You’d told Sirius and James in a strange flustered panic as you sat down, and you don’t fancy telling the story again. 
In the bathroom, there had been a group of girls taking photographs. You didn’t know them, but they were around your age, beautiful, and giggling at not being able to fit in one photograph. 
I can take it, you’d offered. That way you can all be in the frame? 
One girl smiled at you but the rest didn’t even look up. You know you’d said it loudly. You seem to have this effect on people. Total invisibility. 
“Can’t afford butter, can’t afford his own pints,” Remus says, reaching under the table to touch your thigh. His fingertips dig into the softer part of the inner thigh as he brushes downward to your knee. “Next I’ll be paying his rent.” 
“It’s the least you could do,” James says. “Do you think they’ll put the rugby on if I ask?” 
Remus stands and beckons for you to come with him. “Where are we going?” you ask. 
“Home?” He holds out his hand for you to take. “The shop first.” 
He twines your fingers and waves to the boys. You’ll see them again in an hour or two when they come home, but as soon as you and Remus leave the pub, you might as well be all alone in the world. It’s dark as pitch despite the early evening hour and twice as cold, wind like needles thrown at your hands. Remus puts his open hand out to pull your empty one into his side. It’s a funny way to walk. 
“Are you terribly upset?” 
“Mm… no,” you decide. 
“James said you,” —his voice turns soft and careful— “looked a little bit welled up. Like you might cry. It’s okay if you were upset.” 
“It’s embarrassing.” 
“Dove, if you were to be believed, everything is embarrassing. But you’ve never done anything to be embarrassed of.” You take your hands back. “Oh, except that.” 
You laugh as he snatches your hands back, your laughter whipped away with the mean winds as you make your way through the alley that leads to the small corner shop on the way home. “No one sees me like you,” you say. 
“People are fucking rude,” he says with a shrug. “They could’ve at least said they were fine.” 
“I don’t know if it’s rude–”
“It is–”
“I’m a stranger and they were probably fine without my help. But it was weird to have nobody say anything. It made me feel so silly.” 
“If it were you,” Remus says, weight in his words as glances at you from the side, his hair dancing away from his ears, “you would’ve looked them in the eyes and said no, thanks. You would’ve acknowledged them. It’s not kind to treat people like they don’t matter.” 
“I don’t matter.” 
Your weak tone slows his pace. 
“I mean, not to them,” you correct. 
Remus slides an arm over your shoulder, humming from his chest. “Yes, you do,” he says, kissing your cheek, “of course you matter. You’re everything to the people who love you. You’re more than that to me. Please don’t think otherwise.” He presses his lips and chin to your temple. “Yeah?” he asks quietly. “You matter, dove, you do.”
“Why does this happen to me so often?” you ask in a similar quiet. 
“You’re not like everyone else.” He grins at you. “We’re not like other people. Thank god.” His lips press again to your cheek. “I hope all their pictures turn out shit.” 
“Sorry if I’m overreacting.” 
“I think you’re underreacting. I think I should go back and have them banned.” Remus gives you one last kiss before he steps back, ushering you down the pavement to the neon lights of the corner shop. “But I’m going to buy you some chocolates instead. Is that alright? Should I go back?” 
He starts walking back the way you came. You catch tight to his hand and force him into the shop before he can get too far away. 
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eraenaa · 2 months
Text
Most Ardently
Inspired by Pride and Prejudice
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Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader 
Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen had accompanied his younger brother to Highgarden in hopes of securing Daeron a wife— he did not expect he would want to secure a wife for himself as well. 
Warning: Not Proofread, Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy
Word Count: 3,702
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Aemond walked stiffly as he was about to enter a hall filled with merriment. He only wished to go to Old Town with the purpose of visiting and checking upon his younger brother’s well-being as requested by their mother— he had no wish to be dragged to Highgarden and attend a ball hosted by its Lord. Aemond walked behind Daeron as they entered the hall, all eyes upon them. All attendees bowed when they passed— all showing respect to their princes except for one. Aemond saw you by his right, a chalice in your hand, whispering to a girl beside you with a grin on your lips— completely disregarding the presence of royalty. 
When you finally realized that everyone around you had grown quiet and the music had stopped, you turned to face forward—locking eyes with the unique gaze of Old Valyria. Quickly curtsying as you remembered it was the protocol, bowing your head and breaking your gaze from the prince who only had one eye. His name seemed to elude you. You knew of Prince Daeron well, the prince having spent the week’s end in your family’s keep, hosted by your lord father because he was courting your elder sister. You seem to forget which brother Prince Daeron now walked with— was it Prince Aegon or Prince Aemond? 
“Which prince is that again?” You whispered to your sisters as your father scanned the crowd in search of you two to be presented to the esteemed guests. “That is Prince Aemond,” Your sister answered. “He looks miserable, poor soul,” You whisper, making your sister shake her head in amusement. “Miserable, he may be, but poor, he most certainly is not.” You frowned at your sister’s words. “I was told he has twice the inheritance than any of his brothers— even though he is only the second born, he is greatly favored by his mother and grandfather. That he is set to inherit Dragonstone once Prince Aegon is King.” You hummed and could not think of a reply as you two were finally seen by your father and were whisked away to be presented to the princes. 
Music flooded the room once more as you stood before the princes. A lone eye would intermittently fly to your frame as your father spoke. “Prince Daeron, my daughters, you already know of.” Your father began, and you wanted to playfully roll your eyes at your sister as the moment she and the younger prince locked eyes, a blush ran on both cheeks and a giddy smile plastered on their lips. “Of course, and my I introduce you two to my brother, Aemond.” Prince Daeron smiled as he was delighted to be accompanied by his older brother. 
You and your sister curtsied once more, smiling expectantly at the newly arrived prince who simply stood stiff as a board and offered no signs of recognition to you nor your sister. Simply blinked as his lone gaze would shift between the two of you. You wanted to frown, but your sister who knew you too well took hold of your arm and lightly pinched it as a communication to keep your expression neutral. 
As the song ended and a new one began, you and your sister, along with the prince who courted her, went off to the side to chat whilst your father spoke formally with the One-Eyed prince whose gaze would fly over to your group with each moment passed. “I apologize for my brother— he is just not keen on large parties… nor small ones to be honest,” Prince Daeron explained. “And so you decided to take him to a ball instead?” You asked making your sister nudge your side, fearing that you spoke offense but Prince Daeron simply laughed. You passed your gaze where the older prince stood, seemingly glaring at the room, passing his gaze around the sea of people as if they had wronged him. 
Prince Aemond found his way and stood next to his brother once more. Silent as you three were enveloped in conversation. As a new song began, you smiled as you watched the younger prince escort your sister to the floor for a dance. You passed your gaze to the prince, who stood stoically beside you, unmoving except for his eye. “Do you dance, Prince Aemond?” You inquired, his lilac eye still scanning the room filled with glee— judging as everyone around seemed to be intoxicated with joy. 
“Not if I could help it,” He coldly responded. Not even turning to you as he spoke. It was then that you finally let the confused frown slip your face. But you shrugged him off and walked away, determined not to let his demeanor dampen your mood. Aemond’s eye followed you as you walked off, a small smile on your lips as you admired the merriment around. It did not matter that you were not asked to dance; you were completely fine to watch your sister get more acquainted with the youngest prince of the realm, who had been courting her for the past three moons. 
 After two songs passed, you found yourself resting your feet behind a pillar, your presence unbeknownst to anyone who walked past. “She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld,” You hear the familiar voice of Prince Daeron speak and you could not help but smile at how enamored he was with your sister. You hear Prince Aemond hum, and you peek from behind the pillar to listen more into the princes’ conversation. “And her sister is very agreeable, do you not think so? She is of celebrated beauty here in the Reach.” You smile at the younger prince’s recognition of your beauty but quickly vanishes as you hear Prince Aemond’s response. “Perfectly tolerable, I dare say, but not handsome enough to tempt me.” 
You scoff to yourself as you hear their footsteps depart. Greatly offended by the prince’s words. Your tried to proceed with the night and forget you had heard his offensive words. But as you were forced into the chatter of a group with him, you could not help but let a hint of animosity show. “I wondered who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?” You ask as your mother embarrassingly recalls you and your sister's past suitors who were keen on writing you sonnets after sonnets but never fully committing to marriage. “I thought that poetry was the fruit of love?” Prince Aemond asked, the group hiding away their surprise when the prince finally spoke and joined in on the conversation.
“Of a fine, stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination, I’m convened one poor sonnet will it stone dead.” You replied as you gazed at his lone eye that would fleet away, unable to hold the intensity and teasing mirth in your orbs. “So what do you recommend to encourage affection?” He asked, finally holding your gaze as you felt a smirk rising to your lips. “Dancing, my prince. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.” You smiled and curtsied, watching as his eye flooded with the realization that you had heard what he had said. You walked away before he even got a chance to reply. His gaze followed you as you blended into the sea of guests. 
When the night ended, you told your sister what you had heard while hiding behind a pillar. “Count your blessing, sissy, if he liked you, you’d have to talk to him.” She says as she brushes your hair, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Precisely, as it is, I wouldn’t have danced with him for the whole kingdom, let alone dreary Dragonstone.” You tried to laugh it off and brush away the wound he had inflicted on your pride. After a few moments of silence, your sister spoke once more. “I still cannot believe what he said about you,” she muttered as she finished brushing the fine locks of your hair. “I could easily forgive the prince’s vanity if he had not wounded mine,” You say as you tucked the strands of your hair behind your ear, gazing at the mirror. “Me? Perfectly tolerable? He’d be lucky if anyone who had half of my beauty would find him tolerable,” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, making your sister laugh at your pride and confidence that muddled with each other. You sighed and stood, “I do not wish to think more about the One-eyed Prince. Good night, sister; I shall see you when morning comes.” You say and kiss her cheeks before leaving her room.
When morning came, Prince Daeron was quick to send an invitation to you and your sister to visit him in Old Town. An invitation your sister giddily accepted, and you politely declined— no want to see the One-Eyed Prince once more. But as your beloved sister was taken by fever whilst on her journey there, you had no choice but to follow her. 
“Lady Tyrell, Your Highnesses,” They announced your arrival, and you walked into the room. Biting the inside of your cheeks when Prince Aemond abruptly stood from his chair and bowed.  You quickly curtsied and turned to his brother, “So good of you to come so quickly; your sister has missed you terribly.” Prince Daeron said and walked towards you. “Follow me, and I’ll escort you to where she rests.” He said, and you followed him out of the room but gave one last look at his older brother before doing so. 
Aemond silently trailed behind the two of you. His mind was plagued by your eyes, by your voice, by your smile. His brother had no intention of sending an invitation for you to come to Old Town, but he had infiltrated his thoughts and lightly manipulated him to send the invitation, which you declined, disappointing the prince. It would be cruel to him to admit that he saw your sister’s illness as optimal because now you had no choice but to join them in Old Town. “Oh, sissy,” You fretted as you saw her lying on the bed, pale and had a damp cloth on her forehead. 
“Thank you for taking care of my sister so diligently,” You said to Prince Daeron, who gave a nod and a smile. “Of course, it’s a pleasure she’s here,” You smile at the prince you suspect would be your brother through marriage soon enough. “I shall give you two privacy— if you are in need of anything, do not hesitate to ask,” you smile and nod, watching as Prince Daeron reluctantly removes his gaze from your sister. “He is completely in love with you; I’m quite certain of it.” You smiled at your sister and took her cold hands in yours to warm them. “I’m so glad you’re here; I feel such a terrible imposition.” You laugh, “Please, the prince seemed thrilled that you are here being ill.” You smile, and your sister shakes her head. 
“I’ve come to know of something the other day,” She said, piquing your interest as you thought she would share gossip. “Apparently, your invitation was sent for by Prince Aemond,” Your sister smiled, but you did not mirror it. “He is the one who sent you an invitation— he wishes for your presence.” Your sister further explained as she saw concussion in your eyes. “What for? To insult me once more?” You say bitterly. “Oh, sissy, you cannot let one’s transgression sully your entire image of them. People are bound to make mistakes— I’m certain Prince Aemond did not mean what he had said.” You rolled your eyes and stubbornly shook your head. “It does not matter if he is the one to send the invitation or not— my only purpose of coming here is to see how you are.” You said, and thankfully, your sister no longer brought the subject up. 
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Days passed as you were in the presence of the Princes as you waited for your sister to recover. You found yourself engaging in more arguments than conversations with the Prince, whom your sister said was the one to send you the invitation. If not engaged in lively arguments, both of you would simply catch each other’s eyes. Gazing at each other silently, secretively until caught. 
You were in the parlor with Prince Daeron, playing a round of cards, when his brother came in with a book. “You waste your time with the frivolity of gambling,” You feel yourself frown but quickly take hold of your expression, turning to the younger prince whose turn it was to disagree with his brother. “It is just a bit of fun, brother. Not everything in life must be overly serious. Come, join us,” Daeron said and discarded in the middle of the velvet table. 
“I’d rather read of civility than play cards and be at the threshold of a scoundrel,” Prince Aemond stated, his eye flying to you. Resisting the urge to smirk as the furrow in your brow returned as well as the pout on your plump lips. When your eyes locked, he raised his brow in question. “Anything to share, Lady Tyrell? Any musings or disagreement you’d wish to discuss with your prince?” He hummed, tone almost teasing. You knew he was baiting you, and if you had more energy that day, you’d happily take it, but you shook your head. “None, Your Highness.” You say, slightly disappointing the prince, for the only opportunity he had to speak with you and keep your attention with him was through your arguments.
When supper came, you entered the dining room expecting two princes, just like the other nights. But only the One-Eyed Prince waited for you. You quickly curtsied as he stood, “Where is Prince Daeron, your Highness?” You inquired as you were assisted to sit by one of the footmen. “My brother says he wishes to retire early tonight— it would be just us… if that is agreeable with you. If not, then say so, and I’ll take my supper in the servant’s quarters.” You looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out why he was still challenging you. “I am completely fine with any arrangement, my prince,” You say and proceed with the overly quiet meal as the prince and you shared no word but only stare at each other— challenging gazes that neither fell victim to. 
The following morning, your sister had recovered enough for the both of you to head home. No anger wanting to impose and overwelcome your stay with the princes. “Prince Daeron, I do not know how to thank you,” You hear your sister say in gratitude, “You’re welcome anytime you feel the least bit poorly,” You bit back your smile as you followed your sister to the carriage. “Prince Aemond,” You cursed stoically— only doing it as he was a prince, and it would be impertinent not to note his presence. You turned to Prince Daeron and let a smile slip your lips, curtsying to the prince you hoped to be your brother in marriage in the near future. 
You raised your leg to step foot in the carriage but were slightly startled as you felt someone take hold of your left hand, assisting you in boarding the wheelhouse. You turned to the prince, who took hold of your hand. Aemond quickly savored the surprise in your eyes and how your plump lips parted before relinquishing his hold of your hand and returning to the keep without another word, stretched his hand that touched yours as an unfamiliar tingle consumed it. 
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It was not a week later that you returned to Hightower, where another ball was to commence. You and your sister walked, arms linked, you wearing the green of your house whilst her the yellow, both of you had flowers adorned in your hair. “Will this perhaps be the night you will finally be a prince’s betrothed?” You teased and laughed as your sister’s cheeks bloomed with color. “Do not get my hopes up, sissy; it has been three moons since the Prince had first started courting me… in all honesty, my faith is running thin.” You frowned and shook your head. “Do not speak as such, sister. He is in love with you— I am quite certain of it,” 
You straightened your back as you neared the hall's threshold, the hosts standing before it to welcome their guests. “I—I’m so pleased you’re here,” Prince Daeron told your sister whilst your gaze was traveling the room, distracted and trying to ignore the challenging yet indifferent gaze of a lone lilac eye. “And how are you tonight, my lady?” Prince Daeron asked, but you were too preoccupied. “My lady?” He called once more, and your sister elbowed your side. “Are you looking for someone?” Prince Aemond drawled, and you shook your head at his inquiring eye, glancing over to where your gaze was. “No, not at all,” You said and quickly curtsied to enter the hall, an eye following you as walked away. 
Aemond tried to refocus his gaze to anywhere or anyone else but he could not. It had been steady on you since the moment you arrived, watching you whilst you were chatting with a group of girls you had known since childhood, when suddenly you were approached by a young man from house Redwyne, and a gnawing feeling in his gut announced itself as he saw a smile bloom into your pink lips as you gave your hand to the young man who escorted you to dance. Aemond’s hold on his chalice tightened as he saw you giggle with the man who spun you around and dared to keep his hold on your waist. The prince saw red as he watched the man dip down and whisper something in your ear, earning a sweet, bashful blush on your cheeks. 
The prince dug his nails into his palm, quickly moving to the sea of dancers to take your partner's spot before anyone else would have a chance to dance with you— before anyone else would have a chance to hold you. “May I have the next dance, lady Tyrell?” The prince asked the moment the first song ended. You looked around the room as most eyes were on you, a peculiar scene as the stoic prince, who seemed to detest dancing and preferred to stand by the side, asked you for a dance. You licked your lips before answering, “You may,” You quietly said. 
“Did I just agree to dance with Prince Aemond?” You whispered to your sister, who had a teasing smile on her lips. “I dare say you will find him very amiable, sissy.” Your sister smiled, and you shook your head. Stubborn and still holding a bias against the second-born prince of the realm. “It would be most inconvenient since I have sworn to loathe him for all eternity!” You rambled but could not help but laugh at your fate. Your sister joined along and pulled you towards the dance floor as the second song was to start, and two princes waited for the two of you. 
You were stood across the One-Eyed Prince. His stance is still stiff, and you began to wonder if he’d be any good at dancing. Aemond bit his tongue as you curtsied before him, your dress and lowered stance giving him a slight view of your bosom. He clenched his jaw and willed any thought of impropriety may leave his thoughts and body. 
“I love this dance,” you say as you circle around the prince, his eye following your every movement. Aemond would note that they would waver upon his gaze if it were anyone else but not you. “Indeed, it is most invigorating,” he answered, slightly cringing to himself if that was the proper response. There was another moment of tense silence between the two of you, you sighing as you were starting to grow accustomed to it, but in all honesty, you’d rather talk that night, even if it were with him. “I believe it is your turn to say something, my prince.” You say and feel your lips twitch upward as you have the devilish thought to tease him.
“I talked about the dance; now, you ought to remark on the size of the room or the couples present.” You say as you feel his hold on your hand tighten ever so lightly. “I am perfectly happy to oblige you, my lady. Please advise me of what you would like most to hear,” You let a smirk slip your lips at his sardonic response. “That reply will do for now,” You said as you focused on the dance. But you could not truly do so because it seems your whole being was intent on focussing itself on the prince. The way he stared you down, the way his lithe body gracefully glided with the dance, the way it felt to hold his hand. It would shame you to say that after the dance, your body felt alight, and the beat of your heart ran almost alarmingly in your chest. 
You excused yourself from the crowded room, finding calm outside in a marble gazebo. The structure barely lit and only illuminated by the light of the moon. You rested your back on the cool pillar, hoping it would ease the inner heat that torched your body. You closed your eyes and tried to control your ragged breathing and raging thoughts of the One-Eyed Prince. 
“Lady Tyrell,” You jumped in your spot, eyes growing wide as you were startled by the prince's presence. “My prince,” You breathed out, uncertain why he had followed you. “In vain have I struggled. It will not do.” He began to speak rendering you more confused. “What… your highness, I—“ He shook his head and dared to step forward. You stared at his eye, lilac darker in the dim light. 
“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell I admire and love you.” Aemond watched you as your lips parted and your fine eyes filled with utter shock. “Most Ardently.”
489 notes · View notes
querenciasturniolo · 8 months
Note
can you do a one with matt where you show up with food for him and then give him a kiss when he’s on stream but it’s like off camera and people hear your voice and people suspect it cus they couldn’t hear that well
doubt ⮕ m.s
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word count: 716
warnings: none
summary: request
a/n: got is mentioned bc i wrote this while watching got LMAOOOO many more requests to come, thank you for your patience 💓
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
You walking into the triplets’ home with food wasn’t a rare occasion, but they still acted as though you’d appeared out of nowhere with a million dollars every time you did.
“Oh my God, you’re the fucking best.” Chris said, his mouth already full as he dug the rest of his food out of the bag and moved out of the way. You rolled your eyes fondly and pulled Matt’s food out of it before looking around.
“Is he in his room?” You asked, Chris nodding his head without looking up from his phone. Matt was at his desk, his eyes moving from the screen over to you as you shut the door behind you.
“Oh, hey.” He said, relaxing back slightly. You sat the food down and leaned forward, pressing a soft few kisses to his lips before you looked at what he was doing.
“You ready? I’m gonna queue up Game of Thrones in the living room.” You said, Matt’s eyes flickering to the screen for a moment with a shy smile. “Oh, you’re streaming.” You observed, embarrassment flowing through you at the thought of thousands of people watching you kiss your boyfriend. Which was ridiculous, the fans knew about your relationship, but the two of you were very private with everything. Matt muted his mic, and shrugged his shoulders.
“You’re okay.” He replied pointing to the camera, the lack of the red light soothing your worry. You leaned against his chair, and smiled when Matt lightly pushed the chair back towards you. “You’re famous.” He teased, nodding his head toward the chat refreshing every few seconds.
is that y/n?
did matt just kiss someone or am i losing it
matt and y/n kissing on stream? they’re getting bold
it went quiet, five bucks says they’re reading the chat
You snorted and rolled your eyes fondly. “Jesus, you could have at least given me a warning or something.” You said, running your hands over your warm cheeks. Matt chuckled and shook his head, unmuting the mic.
“I’m gonna finish this fight and get off of here, guys.” He said, unpausing his game and continuing. You sat perched on the arm rest, your arm around the back of the chair as you watched the screen closely.
“What’s the goal of this game again?” You asked, lowering your voice to avoid it picking up as well on the mic.
Matt chuckled and flickered his gaze over to you. “The end goal is to just get your skills high. Learn shouts, finish different quest lines, other things like that.” He said. On the screen he was fighting a beast with white fur, and you still couldn’t wrap your mind about it. The beast fell to the ground, and a pause screen appeared.
“Okay, thank you all for watching. I’m gonna eat and watch Game of Thrones.” He said, waiting just a second before ending his stream, watching the chats fly in at a rapid speed as he ended it and pulled his headphones off.
“Ready?” He asked, pushing off of the chair and stretching with his arms above his head. You wrapped your arms around his abdomen, the side of your head resting against his chest as his arms circled your shoulders. You sank into his warmth and breathed him in, your eyes closing as he pressed his lips to the top of your head.
You pulled away and sighed softly. “Now I am.” Matt scoffed playfully and took your hand as you led him out of his room and to the living room. The two of you plopped down onto the couch and tangled yourselves within each other’s limbs.
You felt Matt move slightly, and then turned your body to face the light of the tv. “This show is weird.” Matt said softly, a snort leaving your lips as you nodded in agreement, the both of you settling in to watch a few episodes. You rested your head on the couch, looking up to see you caged in in front of Matt, but his eyes were on the screen.
“There’s gonna be a million edits of us talking on your stream, isn’t there?” You asked. Matt looked down at you, his eyes flickering all over your face as he smiled and nodded.
“No doubt.”
tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @tuktuk34 , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @babytomatoes , @jellybeanbby
958 notes · View notes
diorchids · 3 months
Text
exes attract, luke castellan.
cw: oral (m receiving), swearing, exes, cheating & more
“i’d rather just fuck on my ex again,” - open arms by sza ft. travis scott.
it plays in the back of your head while you sloppily suck luke’s cock, softly squeezing the base of it. his fingers instinctively tighten in your hair and he pushes your lips farther onto him.
his hair sticks to his forehead perfectly, ironically resembling that of a god.
his toned arm flexes each time he pulls your head back and forth on him, and you only run your warm tongue over a vein to get a whimper out of him.
he hisses softly when you swirl your tongue around his puffy tip to show your appreciation for his fat cock taking up your throat.
“keep goin’, just like that—don’t stop,” he groaned out, nodding and running his clammy thumb over your cheek. you look so beautiful like this. puffy lips swaddling his—almost suffocating—cock.
you two had dated years back, the breakup was mostly pertaining to your own life and problems. it ended in a fight. a dramatic one.
you two stayed away from each other, finding other filler people to soothe the ache of being separated. you both were fine though, right? (loud incorrect buzzer.)
the bonfire was loud, with campers chatting and running around. his eyes met with yours, your sultry gaze running all over him for a split second. 
he looked away. 
his pants tightened at the mere sight of you. your smile was almost intoxicating. your lips wrapped around that cherry sucker perfectly, while he pathetically tried to hide the slight bulge in his jeans. 
your boyfriend tapped your leg to let you know he was off to the lake. 
wasn’t too long before luke bumped into you. 
his moans grew louder and more frequent, matching the rhythm of your sucking, “almost done with you, gonna give you all of m-my cum. gonna take it real g-good, aren’t you?” he taunted you while you sputtered and gagged around him. it’s like he hated you but didn’t, like he was putting on a tough front for you.
you made sure to nod, though, not wanting him to push himself deeper down your throat.
“so pretty like this. not fuckin’ yelling and bitching all the time,” he loved the way his cock could shut you up so fast. 
his voice cracked, and his body trembled under the intense feeling of your soft mouth. his hands didn’t move from your hair, gripping more and more as he straightened his back, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. 
he groaned at the sight of you, his hands tightening in your hair. his hips jerked forward, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth as he lost control. He couldn't believe how good it felt and how much he was enjoying this. 
it was disgusting. you both had your respective partners, yet you felt zero remorse. 
“tastes so good, lukey,” your muffled moans only reminded him of how much he missed you. 
luke gasped, his hands gripping your head as he held onto the last remaining bit of control over his body. he couldn't believe how much he was enjoying this and how good it felt to be touched like this. 
“i know, i know, baby. pretty baby.” your puffy lips provided him with the warmth he longed for since you’d broken up. he’s trying so hard to be complacent, like he hadn’t been stalking your socials since the breakup; it was pathetic. 
his breathing was ragged, and his fat cock was throbbing in your mouth. his hips began to buck wildly, pushing deeper into your throat. 
“i-i can't... i'm c-cumming…” his grip on your hair tightened as his front slowly vanished. 
you kept stroking, though. why would you stop? his pretty eyes stuck on the way you basically swallowed his pretty cock whole, which made your cunt flutter. 
“cum for me, luke. cum down my throat if you missed me.” you nodded and taunted him while his glossy eyes could only roll back.
his entire body tensed, his cock pulsing violently in your mouth as he released his seed. hot, thick cum filled your mouth, causing you to gag slightly. he groaned loudly, his hips finally stilling after what felt like hours of him bucking and pushing his cock into your mouth.
you almost immediately swallow, occasionally gagging while cum drips down your chin. tears just roll down your face as he cradles your chin carefully.
 
it wasn’t cheating, just a reconciliation.
949 notes · View notes
wrixthesley · 8 months
Text
𝑮𝑨𝒁𝑬 | 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑨
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warnings: dubcon, stalking, yandere childe, alcohol consumption, facial, blow job, fem reader, degradation, cum eating(?), snowballing, breath play
wc: 4.1k
a/n: im baaaaack, also this is for @jozhenji ily bitch mwah
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You hate Snezhnaya. 
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The cold that bites at your cheeks, the way your bones ache if you stand outside too long, and how blinding the snow can be on the days where the sun is the brightest. You hate holding onto candle light to maneuver your way down the hallway of your house, only to hear talk of the Fatui growing in size and manipulating more people into joining under the harbingers from the neighbors that stop by to chat in front of your door late at night. 
“They each have their own agenda.” One of them says, as if that’s supposed to justify their actions, like they’re not all connected in some way.
“Did you hear Ajax got into another fight?” 
“Again?”
You hate him. Ajax. You hate how he always needs to be the center of attention.
You hate his laughter, his gaze, the way he starts fight after fight and how he doesn’t care if his father cries or threatens to send him to the military. You hate how he knows so much, how he thrives off of the adrenaline that runs through his veins when he knows he’s won, when he can taste it, feel it in his hands and configure it so that it adds fuel to the fire burning brightest in his chest. It’s the one of the only times his smile reaches his eyes.
You hate that it’s the same smile when he looks at you. When he thinks that he can barge in on your walks to get firewood, or when he finds one of your siblings and walks them home. He only wanted to make sure they would get home safe, he swears. 
 If Ajax could put his pride on a pedestal, he would. He would bellow in letting people watch as it grows and swallows everything in its path to take up more space, thriving on the marvel painted on people’s faces who pass, who watch as he leaves the small village of your hometown to join the Fatui. It shouldn’t have come as a shock when he was recognized because of his ability to fight. 
You think about the time that he went missing for three days causing a search party that grew so rapidly in size because his father is a respectable man, it hurt to see how little he slept. It hurt your community to see him attempt to console his other children. 
It hurt even more when you were the one Ajax showed up in front of first. 
You were looking out to the horizon, the firewood that had been collected by your side, stopping to enjoy the hot stew you had prepared for your siblings in the thermos that had been carefully wrapped to protect it from the bitter temperatures. It wasn’t exactly as hot as you expected but you welcomed the few seconds of warmth brought to your lips. It’s comforting and while looking out to the horizon, you make a silent promise to yourself to move to a nation that is always sunny, where the winds are warm, and the waters are blue. Something that would help your soul feel weightless in contrast to your current surroundings. 
When the forest is covered in snow you can hear everything, the branches that fall under the weight of the ice, the crunching of footsteps when someone passes by, and even the curses of the men who were fetching more wood for their wives; tired, exhausted, and numb. 
That day he came back, you didn’t expect to hear him, much less see him. 
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You knew his voice, whipping your head around so fast because you never heard his footsteps approaching. His nose was bleeding, staining his mouth and shirt. “It’s nothing compared to you.” He smiled after wiping the blood off his nose and mouth with his sleeve, watching you in awe of how relieved you must have been when he showed himself to you.
He stumbles forward a little, laughs, “Hey, I lov-I’ve loved you from the moment we met.”
You’re the last thing he sees before he blacks out. 
Years have passed since then. You watch when Teucer and Tonia come running by with their new toys, how much easier it gets for his father to take care of himself when he’s promised that Ajax is okay and the financial hardship doesn’t consume his very being. It’s hard not to smile when Teucer looks up at you with a toothy grin, begging you to play with him again. 
You’ve never been able to tell him no, even though he has the same eyes as his older brother. 
-
You feel uneasy when Pulcinella knocks at your door one evening.
It’s routine for him to visit Ajax’s home, he is the one who offered him the position in the Fatui, you knew he had good combat skills but never would have guessed it was enough for him to be recognized as one of the harbingers. His name is no longer familiar, replaced with Tartaglia. He erases the name given to him, fully accepting his role.
You open your door for him, it would be rude not to answer when the mayor comes to your door. 
He smiles gently at you, it does nothing to relieve your nerves, makes goosebumps run down your spine and you will yourself to meet his gaze and return a smile that you would never call your own. 
“For you.” 
You let him place the box in your hand, it's rectangular, flat, and wrapped beautifully. It makes your stomach drop when his hand touches yours, you can feel a letter slip in between your hand and his, it reminds you of when your grandmother would place chocolates in your hand when you were a child. 
“Thank you.” You mumble, mouth dry and lips chapped from the unexpected visit. He nods, leaving you and waving goodbye at Ajax’s family. 
You set the box down next to the fireplace, you can hear the crackles from the wood engulfed in flames, it makes you feel less lonely at night. Now that your siblings have gone and left, you’re left to take care of the house your parents had left behind. 
You carefully unwrap the bow that sits on top, folding it neatly beside you. Your palms are sweaty when you peel back the wrapping paper. The outside is revealed with the name of an expensive boutique known for the intricate patterns of beautifully displayed lingerie. 
You stare at it in disbelief, the measurements are your size down to the millimeter, you feel like screaming. Like locking yourself in your home, blocking out the windows and doors so that no one, no one else could ever invade your privacy the way that he has. 
The black lace is decorated with hints of glitter and the satin lines it feels so, so fine. If it were from anyone else you would be enamored, delighted to wear this for someone that you held feelings for, but the only thing you feel is fear. 
You remember the letter that was placed in your hands. 
You wish you hadn’t opened it. He only speaks of the past, how he never got to tell you how grateful and happy he was to see you after he had been missing for so long.
When you returned home with Ajax, he was different, asking how many days have passed to everyone that came to visit him during his recovery, contemplating how time passes differently where he was in. When you would see him, you had reassured him over and over that it was three days, though he argued it had been three months. He used to make you retell the story again, and again, and again going over the most miniscule details until you were in tears telling him that it’s all you can remember. 
You throw the box and letter into the fire, watching the flames consume it all. You spend the remainder of the night fitting whatever parts of your life that you could in a suitcase. 
You leave the next morning. 
-
Your life in Fontaine is calmer than back home, you’re near the ocean and you bask in the warm windy hills during the day or dive into the ocean once you’ve finished your work at the small little dress boutique in the middle of the city. 
Your boss teases you about one of the Gardes that have caught your attention when he patrols, you even sparked up a conversation about your favorite flowers you’ve encountered in Fontaine. 
“Romaritime flowers!” you exclaim, “They’re beautiful. They look so pure in and out of the water.”
He places one in your hands the next time you meet, promising to take you on a proper date when he finishes patrol. 
You assume the bouquet of them at your front door was from him, assume that you would see him that night when you closed the boutique and assume that he would ask where you would like to go next. 
You spent that morning getting ready for work. Donning one of your favorite dresses, it compliments you well enough to make you stand out, but still allows you to work comfortably. It’s something your boss had given to you when you first arrived in Fontaine, the excuse was that you also needed something when you would go out. How else would you fit in? 
You cried at her kindness, something you had not encountered in years. 
You finish work that night, assuring your boss that you would close up. She gives you a hug, tells you that she wants to hear all about it when you come back after your day off. 
The clouds start to darken when she leaves. You hope it’s only temporary. 
You imagine this is what heartbreak feels like. 
To trust someone with your feelings so easily only to be faced with the hard realization that they didn’t seem to care about that trust to begin with. The rain, which you hoped was short lived,  only rubs salt in the wound. It’s pouring, your shoes are in your hands and your dress is stuck to your body. You waited for two hours after the boutique closed for him to come by, you waited another hour after his patrol ended. You finally left after ten more minutes, when a young woman knew the look on your face and offered you her umbrella. You politely declined, assured her that you would be okay. 
In the end you’re left disappointed, cold, and wet. It reminds you of the numerous times you would come home from the harsh snowfall in Snezhnaya, greeted with silence when you stepped foot into your house shivering and attempting to start a fire. You hated it. 
You ignore the stares from couples strolling the night, instead focusing on the cool pavement beneath your bare feet, how the rain feels somewhat cooling to your face and how you can hide your tears. 
It’s better this way, to only rely on yourself. You’re all you have after all. 
When you return home, you toss your shoes outside to dry. Slamming the door behind you and begin struggling to peel off your dress because the fabric is soaking wet and it’s stubbornly sticking to your skin. You curse when it doesn’t come off, panting and pulling it over your head, you step on something sharp, cursing again when you finally throw your dress off and the tears threaten to spill. You curse and throw the dress into the corner of your living room. 
You’re left cold, shivering, and only in your bra and panties when you look at the blood from your foot. You begin to cry. 
Your gaze then follows the trail of broken glass on your floor, the pool of water leading up to the broken vase of the Romaritime flowers.
“Do you let others stare at you like this?” 
Your blood runs cold. You remember the same feeling back when he found you staring out into the horizon all those years ago. 
He places a hand over your mouth, holds you flush against his chest when he sneaks up from behind you. “Shh, s’kay.”
You can’t scream, you squirm in his hold, kicking and clawing at his arm holding your face. He thinks it would be fun to allow you to think he’s off balance. 
You shift all your weight onto him, hoping that in the fall you’ll have enough time to run, to hide, to fight. You could run to your neighbor’s house, the nice little old couple that lives behind you and hide in their garden until you’re safe. You wish you were safe, you wish you were home sooner. Oh fuck, if only you hadn’t waited for so long into the night. 
He grabs your wrist before you’re able to move, bringing you back to him. You force yourself to find strength to move, to be able to turn around and face him. He anticipates this, he spins you around like a dancing couple would. 
He laughs once and you stop.  
You no longer want to look, you can only see the boy who was missing smiling and complimenting you with blood running down his nose, you remember the lingerie he sent when you were still in the village, how your stomach dropped when the mayor knocked at your door. 
Nothing compares to this, to the goosebumps littering your skin when he peers down at you, blue eyes that don’t ever leave your gaze and make you feel like you’re drowning in the sea waters that surround Fontaine. 
“I was waiting for you” he whispers, peppering your face with kisses while you stand there, frozen. It’s similar to the time when he collapsed in front of you, only this time you can’t find the words to scream.
It’s funny how this time he’s found you. Your poor attempt at hiding from him is amusing. 
“Missed you so much” he continues to kiss you, makes his way down to your collarbones and doesn’t hesitate to get on his knees to kiss the softness of your stomach or the tops of your breasts that are exposed to him. 
“Should have locked you up you know? You ran from me, took me forever to find you.”
“Ajax” you whisper, the tears that sting your eyes are threatening to spill. “Why are you here?” 
You hold in a sob, you know why. You’ve always known why he was enamored by you. 
“Does it matter?” he breathes, shifting his position so he is behind you again, kissing the tears off the side of your face, watching how your breathing shifts when his cold hands touch the bare skin exposed to him. 
“Had to pay that Garde off really well. He wasn’t cheap, you know?”
Your heart breaks further, the sob you were holding building into your throat. “You’re so worth it though, pretty little thing. Look at how I found you, fuck, you missed me too didn’t you?”
He’s guiding you to your couch, laying you down while he towers over you. You feel nauseous when you feel his hardening cock through his pants, “look at you, look at you!” He laughs again, another bout of tears flowing down your cheeks, hot and heavy. 
He leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but Ajax isn’t opposed to using force to get what he wants, you know this. You’ve always known this. He takes your face into his hands again, squishing your cheeks together like he did before except his gaze is demanding, icy, and bitter. 
“Kiss me back” 
You oblige, letting him press his lips against yours and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You flinch at the roll of his lips, clutching at his shirt when he groans into your mouth. He mistakes this as want, giving you more until you’re consumed by him, his presence, his scent, his touch. 
He breaks away to let you breathe, smiles at the string of spit that connects both of you and how your eyes are hazing, even though he can’t tell if it’s from crying or from how dizzy he’s made you when he kissed you. 
“Let’s celebrate” He’s off of you before you can register what he said, grabbing a bottle of one of Mondstat’s best wines. He’s unceremonious, rogue even, when he pops the cork off and takes a drink straight from the bottle before dipping back down to kiss you.
He didn’t swallow much to your surprise, he let the wine pass from his mouth to yours. Pulling away to watch your face scrunch up at the taste, “s’good” he slurs, taking another drink and swallowing this time.
“Here.” He’s pulling you to sit up, he’s so fast it’s hard to follow what he’s thinking, what he’s doing. He’s taking another drink again, it’s smaller this time, more like a sip that he thinks is adequate for you. 
He doesn’t let you pull back, his hand is on the nape of your neck making sure you can’t escape his intensity. You try to keep up, letting his tongue enter your mouth and swirl with his. It’s so sloppy, so hot, and sticky that it makes your head spin. He only gives you a break to drink more wine, to make you both drink more. 
He keeps giving you more and more, loves when you get weaker and you don’t protest as much anymore. When you whine and start anticipating the alcohol from his mouth to yours, it makes the taste more bearable and your thoughts aren’t as loud in your head. 
The wine keeps spilling from the corners of your mouth, leaving a little trail of purple-red for him to lick up to. He’s sucking at the skin of your neck, finding your pulse point so easily. His teeth nip at your skin, you don’t mean to lean into him, the alcohol is making you slow to react. He swears he hears a small moan escape your lips when he nips at the sensitive skin again. 
His hand slides down your chest, feeling your tits through the fabric of your bra, it’s still wet. 
“Ajax” you slur, “wanna wait” you say. He looks at you, he notices the tears again. You feel them spill, you’re cold. You cling onto him because at least he’s offering you that sliver of comfort. 
“Wait?” He repeats, licking a tear off of your cheek. 
“Why would I wait when I know you want me too?” He whispers in your ear, his hands unclasping your bra in one go. His touch is cold, similar to how it feels when you first go into the sea. Your body has to get use to it, it starts to warm up and you feel like you could swim and float for hours. 
It’s the same with his touch, the cool tips of his fingers warm up the more he squeezes. He likes the sound you make when he pinches at your nipples, he takes one into his mouth, sucking and licking. Groaning when he hears the little whimpers you try to hold back. 
He makes his way back up to your lips again, grabs your hands that are clutching at his sides to guide them down to palm the shape of his cock through his pants. 
He’s dreamt of this for so long. 
“Oh fuck” he pants, his breath hitting your lips before he’s kissing you again, his tongue feels like he’s lapping into your mouth getting as sloppy as possible as if you’re going to vanish again. His tongue rolls over yours until he’s aching, cock throbbing for attention. 
“Hey, feel me here.” He pants, eyes red rimmed and the blue of his irises brighter. You feel like you could drown in them. 
He takes your hand and holds it in his, tossing his vision on your table. He’s undoing his belt & pulling his pants down enough for his cock to spring free. 
He wraps your hand around the base, guides you in how fast and how much pressure to place around him, when he lets go of your hand you can feel him looking at you. You’re focused on the length of him, how heavy and hot he feels against your hand. 
You feel like crying again. You oblige him because at least he’ll leave you alone sooner, you’re just another thing for him to win over, to declare victory before he gets bored with you and moves on to this next challenge. 
“More fuck, please more” he pants, hips stuttering into your hand. You can feel the sticky, hot precum that coats the tip of his dick and now your hand. You look up at him and see that he’s got his head tipped back, moaning about how hot you are, how good you are, how he’s thought about this since you saved him. Since you found him, how he’s been in love with you since he found you looking out into the horizon. Even before, he’s been in love with you since the beginning, since he saw you. 
“You owe me this.” he breathes.
“What?” 
He laughs again, the same one that haunts you. 
“Don’t act like you didn’t know. I had you watched wherever you went, I made sure your siblings got into the school they wanted, fuck I even followed you here.” 
He takes your hand in his, knows that your hand is coated in his pre cum, takes one of your fingers and licks it up the length. His eyes ever leave yours as he does. 
“You should thank me.” He deadpans, cock still throbbing and hard when he stands up at full height. 
“Thank me.” He repeats the length of his dick is on your face, rutting against your cheek until the tip meets your lips. 
“Yeah, that's how you should do it.” He smiles, the one that meets his eyes. The genuine one. 
He’s holding on to the back of your head before you can move. He doesn’t care if your hair is messy, it's almost dry now. He takes your hand again, planting it onto his thigh for leverage. 
His grip returns to the base of his cock, tapping the tip on your lips again. 
You don’t open your mouth, new tears building up in your waterline. He shows no remorse for what he’s doing, no concern, he thinks he deserves this. It’s the least he deserves for what he’s done for you. 
He pinches your nose, catching you when you part your lips to shove his length into your mouth. 
You cry, struggling to breathe at the pace he starts at. 
“Woulda been so gentle to you if you would have been good, fuck.”
He seethes, eyes rolling into the back of his head when both of his hands are holding your head to match his hips. Your nails are digging into his thighs, your strength unmatched for how you try to push yourself off of him as he pulls you forward on his length. He can’t handle the hot, wet, tightness of the back of your throat. 
“Fuck yes, more, more, more” he chants, pinching your nose again to see you panic when you look up again, he loves you like this. When your chin is covered in spit and tears and his balls hit you with every rut of his hips. 
“God, gonna paint your fucking face, slut. Gonna cover you in my cum so you can never forget who you belong to” 
You can feel that he’s getting close, he grants you grace for only one second before he’s holding your jaw in his hand again. 
You take in gulps of air, coughing, and crying while he forces you to look at him. 
“Don’t run from me again.” He seethes, forcing you back down on his length. 
He’s ruthless this time, uncaring for the way your eyes can’t focus, or how you look like you’re going to pass out. You’re vision keeps going in and out, you can hear yourself. How you choke and gag around his length how he curses with each “ack. ack. ack” of his dick hitting the back of your throat. 
“Gonna cum—shit”
He pulls you off, using one of his hands to keep you in place while he jacks himself off with the other. 
“Say it, say who you belong to.” 
You can’t understand, hazy vision threatening to go black. 
“Fuck, say it and I’ll cum. I’ll cover your fucking face and never leave you. You understand? You’re mine. “
You don’t know what he’s rambling on about. You want to plead with him, talk this out and let him know he could pursue someone else. 
“Ajax” you rasp. 
“Yeah? You belong to me don’t you? Oh fuck—“ 
He groans, doesn’t hold his voice back, calling you all sorts of names but mostly that you’re his, his, his. 
His cum on your face should be enough to prove it. He looks at you like a masterpiece, taking his finger and dragging it through his cum and putting it into his mouth before kissing you. 
“Don’t let anyone else see you like this.” 
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