#ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO GO WHEN THEY SAY THAT????
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. trying to get your cold boyfriend to crack a smile !
tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, suggestive at the end. reader gets called ‘girl, doll (face)’
“you should smile some more,” you comment unexpectedly as the television runs in the background. toji raises an eyebrow, amused yet curious at the way you interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.
your sluggish lover looks down at you as you sit up on his lap. his arms loosen up around your waist, though his manly hands don’t leave their favorite spot—your ass. toji gives it a squeeze, huffing at the way you’re blocking his sight with your head, “what ‘re ya on, girl?”
he figures it’s just you trying to strike up a silly little conversation again, for the sake of entertainment. he tilts his head to the side so he could continue watching the show playing on the big screen.
your hands come to cup his face. your palms are actively being prickled by his stubble, the man not having bothered to shave this morning. not that you’re complaining. you love it when toji leaves that stubble on his face. it gives him a more manly look.
“smileeeee,” you exclaim and use both your index fingers to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. his lips are morphed into an awkward, forced smile that makes you frown.
you secretly hoped that toji would go along with your request, but he doesn’t. that same expressionless face stares right back at you. his ‘smile’ instantly disappears the moment you drop your hands to your sides.
the black-haired man runs his fingers up your waist. and arms. he eventually pinches your cheeks for a second, properly positioning your body so he could watch the television in peace. toji places his chin on your shoulder, half lidded eyes lazily following the people on screen.
“i wanna see you smile again, c’mon,” you whine and try to push toji’s head back, but he stubbornly refuses. he easily overpowers you and pins your wrists down against your sides, nearly crushing you in a ‘hug’.
he takes a deep breath and sniffs your perfume. he places a quick kiss on your throat, thinking it’d pacify you for now.
“i would if y’ could make me laugh, doll,” toji answers in a gruff voice. he falls silent again as he’s too focused on the show playing.
you frown at his comment and can’t help but feel slightly offended. you roll your eyes and push back from toji’s tight embrace, if that’s what you can even call it. you pout and cross your arms over your chest. you stare at him, his green eyes glancing back at you for a second.
seeing you get all sulky because of what’s supposed to have been a lighthearted comment, is adorable. though toji doesn’t say that stuff out loud.
“you’re saying i’m not funny?” you ask. it’s more of a rhetorical question. your partner shrugs and yawns, one hand of his sneakily slipping under your shirt. his meaty fingers glide up to your bra, tracing the outline.
it’s another action of his in attempt to distract your mind from this entire conversation. however, it fails as you swat his hand away. toji clicks his tongue and gently swats you back— resulting into a mini fight between the two of you.
your slaps against his biceps may seem hard to you, but to the bulky man they’re child’s play. it feels like nothing, while you’re trying your best to stand up for yourself. toji’s revenge smacks are light taps against your bum and hands.
he’s clearly not putting in any effort unlike you.
“if that’s how you wanna take it, then yeah, y’ ain’t funny,” toji adds fuel to the fire, amused by how upset you’re getting. he doesn’t mean anything he’s saying; he’s simply interested in your adorable reactions. you look cute—thinking you’re doing something to him while you slap his bicep as response to his sneaky remarks.
you huff and roll your eyes. the little unserious tussle between toji and you continues. “bastard,” you answer and stick your tongue out to him. your lover lets out a puff of air through his nose at your weak attempt of insulting him.
he indulges you again.
“what’ddya say there?” toji questions in a low tone. he easily grips your wrists and flips you over until your back hits the soft sofa. your hands are gathered above your head and his face is close to yours.
that doesn’t stop you from being bratty, however, no matter how intimating toji tries to act. his black bangs brush against your forehead due to the proximity between you both.
“bastaaaaaard, you’re an asshole,” you shamelessly continue, your voice echoing in his ear. the black-haired man stares at you with a blank stare for a couple seconds, letting you blow off some steam.
you don’t know how cute you are right now to him. toji could just eat you up right then and there. having his girl try to act fierce around him is such an endearing sight.
without knowing it, toji’s scarred lips curl up, a faint smile appearing on his face. he doesn’t bother moving or setting your hands free.
“heh, right—i am, aye?” your lover nods and places a chaste kiss against your jawline, biting that same place not a second later. he lifts his head up and stares down at you with that same subtle smile.
you’re a bit shocked by the fact that he actually smiled. you love seeing toji show hints of happiness, which he rarely does. but when he smiles, you know it’s going to be a beautiful sight.
and it sure is now.
you’re too caught up staring at his handsome face to realise that that cherished smile has turned into a teasing grin. toji’s free hand slides up to grab your bottom lip, pulling back and letting go to watch it bounce back in place. his warm breath gently hits your cheek and you feel a shiver run down your spine;
“y’know if y’ want to, i can show ya how much of an asshole i really can be, doll face.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji x you#toji x y/n#jjk fluff#toji fluff
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the thing that really kills me about the Buck-Eddie-Chris dynamic is that it's not just that Buck is ALWAYS going to be there for them. It's that Eddie KNOWS that. It's that Eddie EXPECTS that. It's that he's had that expectation since before the tsunami.
He knows Buck loves them. He knows he loves Chris. He knows that Chris is and never has been a burden to Buck. He dropped his eight-year-old son off at his depressed best friend's apartment and said BYE HAVE FUN. like. that wasn't a request.
And EVERY time since we've seen Eddie entrust Christopher to Buck, it's never framed as a request. It's an expectation. It's a fact. It's an intrinsic truth he has never questioned. The will is obviously the most glaring example but the expectation is there EVERY time. it's in the way in 5x13 he apologizes TO Buck for scaring Chris. It's in s6 when Eddie asks Buck if Christopher is telling Buck his secrets, fully expecting that if there's something HE doesn't know about his son, Buck will. it's during the lightning strike when Chris demands to go see Buck and Eddie capitulates, because Chris's relationship with Buck is not something he can or ever will stand between. it's in the way in 7x01 Eddie says "Nothing. Not yet. I was kinda hoping...you would!" sounds almosttttt like a request but the way he says it very much isn't. It's "i do not know how to handle this so I am handing it off to you. BYE HAVE FUN."
Buck is not Christopher's dad. But he IS Eddie's coparent. That's pretty indisputable at this point. He treats him like one in almost every way. He doesn't just KNOW Buck will be there for Chris even when Eddie can't. he EXPECTS it.
And the thing is, Chris expects it, too!!!!! He called Buck in s5. He sat down with Buck and opened up about his complicated feelings about his mom in 7x01. Buck has been the most stable adult figure in Chris's life other than his dad for almost SEVEN years at this point.
The other thing is, I don't think Buck even realizes how important it is that they have that expectation. that they're ABLE to rely on him and trust him so intrinsically. that it's never been a question for either of them that Buck is supposed to be with them. HE knows he'll always be there for them, no matter what, no questions asked. ("I'm here, what can i do?") but I don't think he understands how monumental it is that Chris and Eddie both know that, too.
#sibyl speaks#911 spoilers#having so many buckley-diaz thoughts that scene made me so insane#what is going to happen to me when i watch the episode#i might die fr
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ROOKIE - LN
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧
warnings - none! just fluff (not proofread), oblivious reader and lando
feel like i could do a pt2 for this? - lemme know what you think!
masterlist the playlist
the sun was shining brightly over the racetrack, casting on the 4 karts, lined up behind the group. max stood behind the camera, making sure everyone was in frame before running round to join Lando. at his other side stood y/n - long term friend of the two, and unofficial quadrant member.
lando flashed a wide grin at the camera.
“hey, everyone!” he announced, clapping his hands together, “welcome back to the quadrant channel. today, we have something special for you. me and max are going to teach our karting rookie here how to drive on a track like a pro,” he add, hands moving to gesture in y/n direction.
she smiled, waving awkwardly at the camera. it wasn’t her first time featuring on the channel, but she usually made small appearances when the whole team filmed. at the start, viewers had assumed she was lando’s girlfriend, noticing the way the two interacted with each other. but she wasn’t - not to say there wasn’t anything between the two of them, but they were just too stubborn to talk about it.
“you nervous?” lando asked her, smiling lightly.
“no different to driving a car right?” she replied, smiling back at him.
“not the way you drive, i guess,” he retorted, earning a light slap to his arm.
“so!” max started, clapping too as he faced the camera, “we’re starting y/n off in the lowest powered kart, and working our way up. when she’s comfortable, we’re going to have a small competition,” he added, his tone holding emphasised mystery.
it was y/n turn to speak to the camera.
“do i also need to clap when i start my sentence?” she asked max, grinning as she did. y/n could see niran burst into laughter behind the camera, all too familiar with the “who claps the most” argument.
“sorry, sorry,” she jokingly defended, holding up her hands when she caught max and lando both giving her a look filled with distaste. she turned back to the camera, “we will be seeing if the student really becomes the master, as i take on lando in a time-trialled race.”
the group moved closer to the first kart, y/n zipping up the rest of her protective clothing as they moved, balancing her helmet in the crevice of her arm.
“right, helmet on!” lando told her, though he moved to tuck loose hairs, that had fallen from her ponytail, behind her ears before grabbing the helmet from her, pushing it over her head. his hands rested on the side for a moment, wobbling her head slightly before moving to pop the visor up and look her in the eyes.
“comfortable?” he asked her, watching as she nodded, “ready?”
she hesitated for a moment, before nodding again. y/n wasn’t worried about injuring herself, no, she feared that she would do a bad job and the video wouldn’t be a good watch.
“you’ll be fine, angel, i promise,” he reassured her, his fingers moving to pull the zip of her suit up further, “if not, we blame max,” he joked. the two of them looked at the man stood on the other side of the kart, who quickly turned his head as though he hadn’t been watching the two interact, wondering when they’d figure whatever this was out. though he didn’t supposed it mattered, if this footage was left in the viewers would be quick to point it out, as they always did.
“it’s ok - if something bad happens, you’re the one that has to tell my mum,” y/n replied with a shrug, trying to grin despite her face being squashed.
“bagsy not me this time!” max called out.
“not fair! i did it last time!” lando shouted back childishly.
“in max’s defence, last time was your fault, lan,” y/n chimed in, patting his shoulder, “and all you did was leave a voicemail!”
“hiya, it’s lando - just letting you know y/n is in the hospital, but she’s fine. probably,” max mimicked, recalling the way lando left quite possibly the worst voicemail anyone had ever.
“not my finest moment, i’ll admit,” lando replied quietly before trying to manoeuvre the woman in front of him towards the kart.
y/n moved to climb into the first kart, her hand gripping tightly at lando’s arm to use as support before she sat down fully. he squatted down next to her, max following suit on the other side, before explaining the basics to her - when to brake, when to speed up, when to take a corner wide.
“last thing - the steering wheel,” he continued, making sure the mic could pick up his voice. his hands reached out to grab hers, placing them in the correct position on the wheel.
“what about the pedals?” she asked him.
“the same as normal? accelerator….brake?” he added, smiling as he pointed to each pedal as though it was obvious.
y/n nodded up at him, before grabbing the steering wheel and pretending to drive, making a ‘neeyowwwm’ noise as she did.
“she’s fine,” max laughed out, “strap her in and we’ll get started. oh, y/n don’t forget you have a the mic and the headset so we can communicate as you go round the track.”
“you’re doing great!” lando’s voice sounded through her earpiece, full of encouragement, “brake a little earlier for this next turn.”
y/n grinned, confidence growing with each lap. she was now onto the last kart, one lap left before she was supposed to race lando.
“how’s that?”
“perfect! you’re a natural,” he praised, his pride evident.
“i’m gonna kick your ass,” she threatened as she neared the finish line.
“looking forward to it,” lando remarked, this time in person as he stepped towards the side of her kart, “10 minute break before we race?”
“please,” she replied, nodding up and moving her hands to undo the straps before pushing herself up to step out from the kart. her balance faltered slightly as she did, though lando’s arms had shot out, his hands gripping her waist to steady her as she stepped out from the kart. even when y/n was fine to walk alone, lando’s hands never left, his hand firmly positioned on her lower back as they walked towards max.
“how was that,” max asked her, his eyes darting from lando to the woman who was struggling to pull her helmet off.
“really good,” she replied with an enthusiastic nod once lando had helped to pull the helmet from her head, “not sure on that last corner but we’ll see how it goes.”
“seemed alright on that last lap,” max reassured her, though he couldn’t help but notice the way lando looked at her face, smiling fondly as she explained how she might approach the race.
“right, it is finally time!” max called out, facing the camera as y/n took a seat in the kart behind him, “the moment we have all been waiting for. lando norris, formula one racer versus karting rookie y/n.”
“karting rooki- max i have so many better attributes to describe me?” y/n called out jokingly.
“sorry - lando norris, formula one racer versus ‘nine points on her license’ y/n!” he joked, “is that better?”
“NINE? i do not have nine points on my license?” she retorted, “it’s like 3?”
“it’s nine,” lando interrupted with a snort as he crouched down next to her to check her straps were tight enough, “two counts of speeding, and that one time you ran a red light - am i wrong?” he added with a grin.
y/n shook her head at him, though her silence confirmed his claim. the three moved on quickly, y/n finding herself breathing in sharply as lando pulled on the straps too hard, tightening them around her ribs.
“sorry,” he mumbled, loosening them slightly, “breathe out f’me,” he added, checking that she had room, before muttering a quick perfect as she did.
anyone who believed lando would go easy on y/n was a fool. she’d managed a good few overtakes, took corners well and maintained her speed, but as they approached the last lap lando seemed to slip further away. even with her foot to the floor, her kart was slowing more and more until the engine fully gave up, spluttering a few times before dying.
“well this is embarrassing,” she announced, looking into the gopro attached to the kart as she did.
“hold still for a moment, y/n,” max said through her headset, “need lando to stop before you can get out.”
so y/n sat, waiting for lando to stop so that she could climb out from the kart and do her walk of shame back to base. but she didn’t have to wait long before she saw lando jogging towards her.
“you good?” he asked her on approach, his helmet long abandoned with his kart.
“the engine just died on me,” she told him, annoyed.
“i told max i thought i could hear it struggling when i passed you,” he told her, holding out his hand for her to climb out, “however, can’t have you not finish your first ever karting race.”
“what?”
“climb on,” lando told her, crouching slightly and tapping his back for her to climb on.
y/n didn’t argue, she knew she’d lose. so she stood behind him, bouncing slightly before jumping onto his back, his hands moving to grab her legs and her arms wrapping around his neck loosely. he started running towards the finish line, y/n clinging tightly onto him whilst mimicking car noises, lando laughing loudly as she did.
“you two look like you’ve been doing this for years,” max called out, breathing through his laughter at the sight in front of him.
“we have,” they said in unison as they approached him. max knew this - he himself had fallen victim to giving y/n a piggyback a fair few times over the years - however it didn’t make the situation less funny to him.
lando placed y/n down with a soft thud, before realising something, his eyes widening.
“wait who won?”
“what do you mean ‘who won’?” she asked confused, “my engine died, lando.”
“i didn’t cross the line,” he whined, “i went to get you before i crossed it.”
“funny you should ask,” max interrupted, using the opportunity to turn to the camera set up, “we ran the VAR and…”
“are you waiting for a drumroll or…?” lando asked impatiently.
“don’t be mean,” y/n told him, slapping his arm lightly, “god forbid you not be so competitive for once.”
“so!” max started again, knowing their bickering could last hours if he didn’t interrupt, “we ran the VAR and you’ll be glad to know that….y/n - your foot was the first to cross the line!”
“yes!” she cheered, pumping her fist dramatically.
“how is that right? i was carrying her?” lando whined again.
“her foot was in front of you mate,” max laughed, “should’ve tucked it behind you if you wanted to win so bad,” he added, shrugging.
“that is the last time i do anything nice for you,” lando seethed jokingly, turning to face y/n before ruffling his hand through her hair to mess it up.
she dodged his hand quickly, head jerking sideways as she shouted at him.
“you’re such a sore loser.”
“i am not.”
“rematch?”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked
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Sound II
Steph Catley x Baby!Reader
Summary: You're not having fun
You have decided that the weird things Mummy puts in your ears are annoying. You don't enjoy them at all. They're strange and weird and make things loud.
You don't like loud.
Loud is weird and you wish Mummy would just let the world be quiet.
You also wish Mummy would stop putting you on your belly. You used to do that in your old home until you could successfully lift your head up. Then you stopped.
You're not entirely happy that Mummy is making you do it again.
"Come on, angel," Steph coos at you," Just a little bit longer."
You're not the biggest fan of tummy time and Steph would prefer not to make you upset but she's working on getting you to crawl. Mini called just last week to say that Bubs has begun crawling and Steph doesn't want you to be left behind, hence tummy time.
"What's with the frowny face?" She coos," It's not really that bad, see?"
Steph lays on her tummy as well and your frown disappears a little bit as you stare at her. Steph just supposes you needed someone to do it with you.
You start giggling and you clumsily reach out with a hand to smack against her nose. Steph tilts her head up so she can lay a kiss on your palm that causes another wave of laughter from you.
You're a fairly giggly baby, at least compared to Bubs, and Steph could listen to your laughter for hours.
You kick your legs happily as Steph drags herself closer on her belly until she's close enough to layer kisses all over your face. Her phone chimes and she sits up.
"Tummy time's done!" She says to you, lifting you into her arms," You're such a good girl for doing it!"
You beam at her, legs still kicking out slightly before you're settled on her lap.
Now that you're free from the confines of your tummy time, you've decided you want to be free of the things in your ears.
You tug on them clumsily and Steph chuckles, covering your hands with her own.
"I'm sorry, angel," She says," But the doctors said you've got to wear them to get used to all the noise."
Mummy's been putting these things on you for a while now. Every day, she keeps them on for longer and longer. You tolerated it at first but now you think she's doing this just to annoy you.
You huff and blow spit bubbles at her so she knows you're annoyed.
Steph drags a cloth over your lips to clean them off and you huff again. She laughs a little at your face. Like every time you pull a frowny face or look mildly disgruntled, she has to laugh.
It's so out of place on your usually sunny features that Steph has no choice.
"Just a little longer," Steph promises you," And then we'll do something else."
She already knows what that 'something else' is. In the month or so since she's brought you home, Steph found very quickly that you've an affinity for music.
It had been a complete accident when Steph was cleaning while you were napping, putting some music on as she worked only to find you kicking your little legs in happiness to the beat.
You just adored music, even when you couldn't hear it. You routinely enjoyed being set up by the speaker and just resting your body against it, feeling the vibrations on your skin.
You still don't look very happy at still having to wear your hearing aids but this is one thing Steph won't relent on. You'll wear your hearing aids as long as the doctor recommends to get you properly adjusted.
Macca's assured her that this is the way to go. It's easier to adjust to the noise when you're younger than it is to do it when you're a teenager.
Steph's helping you in the long run, no matter what you think in this moment.
Her phone goes off with another alarm so you don't get the chance to make your anger more known. The frown absolutely disappears once you're set down in front of the speaker and Steph puts on some classical music.
You don't really mind what music is played, so long as you can play around and touch the speaker but Steph likes to think you like classical.
There's probably something about the vibrations that makes it different from pop music or any other genre.
You seem happy either way and Steph's content to just leave you there as she cleans up your scattered toys.
You've fully wedged yourself onto the speaker and Steph's left to briefly wonder how you've knocked it over and how you've managed to clamber on it at all when you've not even started to crawl yet.
It's impressive though and you mush your cheek against it and giggle as the vibrations echo through your body.
Steph has to laugh too, putting your toys away before plucking you from your position atop the speaker.
"That's a little too close," She tells you, standing it back up and moving you far enough away that you can only rest your little hand against it," This is better."
You huff.
It's fine. As soon as she leaves to get snacks, you'll go straight back to laying on it.
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Other Worlds
Azriel x reader
Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.
Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay
A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.
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“Do you think she’s dead?”
“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.
“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.
“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone.
“But not before all the trees Nesta”
“Details, details”
“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.
“Well she’s not dead”
“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look.
“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”
“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.
The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts.
“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”
“You forgot” Feyre returned
“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them.
“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door.
“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply.
“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them.
“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you.
“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre.
“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another.
“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.
“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment.
“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.
“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master.
“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness.
“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day.
“Send for Madja-”
“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”
“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options.
“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back”
“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”
“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.
“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way.
Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count.
He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down.
“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face.
“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself.
“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”
“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.
“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?”
“This is Velaris”
“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly.
“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced.
“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds.
“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes.
“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir.
“YN? That’s an odd name”
“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead.
“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling.
“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”
“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”
“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face.
“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp.
“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”
“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.
“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.
“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.
“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid.
“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.
“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants
“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”
“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.
“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.
“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”
“Human? And what are you a fish?”
“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees.
“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action.
“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”
“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?”
“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.
“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.
“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding.
“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder.
“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed.
“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.
“Okay so not a dream…”
“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality.
“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”
“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you.
“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile.
“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.
“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully.
“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test”
“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen.
For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were.
“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.
“Oh slay”
“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words.
“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink.
“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”
“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”
“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged.
“How could anyone not miss you YN?”
“You have to say that, you’re my captor”
“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.
He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.
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“We are sending her back!”
“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.
“She can’t stay here Az!”
“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians.
“This is Rhysand”
“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action.
“Don’t flatter him YN”
“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes.
“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood
“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry.
“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”
“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home��� you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.
“I’m confident we know how to get you there”
“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me”
“What?” Rhysand bit out.
“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk.
“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”
“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.
“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.
“Who said anything about worms?”
“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you.
“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.
“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him.
“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”
“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.
“I’m not familiar with that region”
“Is that where the drag culture is?”
“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta.
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Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide.
“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.
“You live such insane lives here”
“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow.
“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much.
“Az, I’d love to stay but-”
“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now.
“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go.
“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”
“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.
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Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?
Part Two
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acosf#acomaf#acowar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x oc#azriel acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#azriel fic#cassian#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar x y/n#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar fluff#azriel shadowsinger#shadowsinger x reader#sarah j maas#fanfic#lucien vanserra#lucien acotar#rhysand#feyre archeron#smut#acotar smut
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Awake
Azriel x fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel is undeniably furious, especially considering the fact that Y/N has yet to wake up. But, when she does, what will become of their relationship?
Warnings: Vomiting, mentions of Az wanting to kill people for his bbg, very fluffy. Bit of hurt/comfort for both Azriel and Y/N
A/N: Here is part two of Poison (which, btw, thank u for all the support I've been getting on it 😭). feel free to send in requests for acotar bc I'm bored<3
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Azriel doesn’t think he’s ever been angrier in his entire life.
He’s supposed to stay calm and collected, every inch the mysterious spymaster, but not even the strongest sedative could settle the rage brewing in his chest. His shadows curl menacingly around his limbs, the black essence seeming to share his fury.
Rhysand sighs, rubbing his temples. Feyre stands behind him, probably to offer some form of comfort. They both adore Y/N. They’ve practically adopted her with how much they coddle and coo at her, despite her loud laughter and complaints whenever they do.
Cauldron, what Azriel wouldn't do to hear that laugh right now.
It’s been three days. Y/N is not awake. His mate is not awake.
Rhysand finally looks up at Azriel. “We’ve got answers, at least.” Before Azriel can interrupt, he keeps talking. “Beron has admitted to poisoning Y/N. He figured that if he targeted her, we’d crumble. Not because she’s the strongest, but because she’s the most… beloved, daresay. He didn’t think we’d hit back, and he thought he’d be able to crush us with this crack in our defences.”
Azriel’s scarred knuckles are alabaster from how hard he’s gripping the arms of his chair. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he just admit it?” The High Lord of Night takes a deep breath.
“He found it funny.” The noise that tears from Azriel’s throat is completely inhumane, and completely unlike him. He storms to the door, but Cassian’s strong arms hold him back, urging him to stay calm, urging him to breathe. He can’t. He’s gone past being angry, and he’s gone past blaming it on the new mating bond.
Y/N is his best friend. He’d die and kill for her, he’d steal the moon and stars if it meant she’d be happy. The Mother’s bond can go and fuck itself, because the one he’s already got with Y/N will always be stronger.
“I’ve arranged a meeting with Eris Vanserra.” Rhys’ firm voice cuts through the haze of rage. “He says he has plans, and that this event has solidified his desires. I may be unable to tell you what comes of the meeting, but I guarantee that Beron will suffer for what he did to Y/N.”
Mate. Awake. He almost doesn’t realise what his shadows are whispering to him. Awake. Eyes open. Vomit. GO. He chokes, and desperately tries to break free of Cassian's grip. He needs to see her. He needs her to be okay. “Az, Rhys just said-”
“I know what he just said!” Azriel hates the way his voice is more of a sob. “She’s awake- she’s- please, let me go to her!”
A shadowsinger shouldn’t beg. He shouldn’t grovel. He should attack.
But he doesn’t, because he knows that Y/N is far more important than any conflict he could have with Cassian right now.
And, besides, Cassian lets him go. He’s never run so fast in his life. His feet are barely on the ground, legs and shadows and wings working in tandem to get him there as soon as possible. He thinks he might be the one vomiting in a minute.
Rhys groans. “I know they’re close, but he’s going to drive me insane before I even have this meeting.”
But Feyre, ever the observant High Lady, stares at his retreating form, hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder. “Give him time. I’m sure he’ll cool off, when he knows she’s safe.” A small smile quirks up at the corners of her lips, knowing exactly why Azriel is so worked up.
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His chest heaves as he pushes the door open, but then it’s filled with warmth. Alive. She’s alive, and upright, and very visibly pissed off but it’s okay because she’s alive.
“The one time I drink something that isn’t champagne-” she croaks out. “-and it turns out to be fucking poisoned. If that’s not my luck I don’t know what is.”
Azriel can’t control the desperate sob that bursts from his lips as he clambers onto the bed, pulling her into his chest. She’s sweaty, and feverish, and she’s just puked into the bucket next to the bed, but he’ll be damned if he cares. She’s alive. He buries his face in her hair, arms and wings squeezing her so tightly it makes her squeak.
“Alright big guy, I’ve just been sick, let’s not try and go for round two.” Her tone is teasing, joking, but the moment he pulls away, her face falls. “Az…” she murmurs, moving her fingers up to wipe his tears. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he spits, sobbing again. “What’s wrong!? You were fucking poisoned! You’ve been puking and coughing and writhing and screaming ever since you got here, and you’ve been out for three days. Three whole days- where- I didn’t know if you were dead, I didn’t know if you-”
“Az.” her tone is a bit firmer now, thumbs pressing against his lips. “I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m breathing, and I’m going to be fine. Breathe.”
He heaves a deep breath, clutching her so tightly his fingers make indents on her skin. If she notices, she doesn’t care. “You’re… okay.”
“I’m okay.” She smiles. Her lips are cracked and slightly discoloured, but he’s missed her little smile so fucking much. “Come on, Az, you know me. Tough as nails.” She flexes her arms, and Azriel snorts.
“There’s nothing there. You should really stop skipping training.”
“No! You’re always a dick to me in training!”
“Yes, because Cassian’s about as mean as a wet sponge, and it isn’t potty training, it’s battle tactics.”
She scoffs. “Whatever, whatever.” And he grins, and hugs her again, trying to engrave the memory of her wrapped up in his arms into his brain, just to keep there forever. “Azriel?” He hums in response. “I- so, you know a couple days back? When... this... happened, and I was just about to fall asleep?” She swallows. “I think I felt something… snap.”
His heart pounds in his chest. “The bond? You felt it too?”
“Uh- yeah.” She looks up at him, big eyes blinking up at him like a doe, her face so sweet he wants to coo. “Are you disappointed? That it’s me?”
That makes Azriel frown. How could he be disappointed? She’s everything and more, anyone can see that. Even if he pushes aside the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s got a brain to match it. She’s quick and clever and sassy in a way that rivals even his own spunk. If anything, she should be the disappointed one.
“No.” he says, brows furrowing. “Y/N, sweetheart, you mean the world to me. How could I be disappointed?” He wants to catch all of the butterflies in his stomach and lock them away forever, because they're making him woozy. “Are- are you?”
“Am I?” her tone is confused, almost shocked. “Az- Az, I’ve been into you for, like, forever. I’m not disappointed. I could never be disappointed, not with you.”
They stare at each other for a long moment, blinking, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that this bond has, for lack of better wording, startled them. They’ve always prioritised everyone else over them, always considered others' needs and benefits above their own, but they’ve never had the chance to fully acknowledge themselves. Maybe that’s what made them so alike. Maybe that’s why the Mother paired them together, knowing that amidst the sarcastic comments and teasing touches, the sturdy roots of their relationship came from their unwavering trust and care for one another.
Azriel’s hand moves to Y/N’s clammy forehead, softly pushing the hair away from her face. Despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, she’s still her, and he’s still him. Nothing is ever going to change that.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispers. She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got a raging fever, I’m drenched in my own sweat, I just threw up and you’re calling me beautiful?”
He laughs, oh, by the Cauldron, he laughs. “You could be a corpse and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“That’s necrophilia, Az. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“You’re hilarious, sweetheart.”
“Is that why you fell in love with me?”
“Okay, who’s saying I’m in love with you?”
“Me.” and she grins, nudging her nose against his. “Because I am not only hilarious, but also very observant.” He lets out a little hum in response, scarred fingers still twisting in her hair. Everything’s perfect, because they’re not. Their imperfections are intertwined, just like their souls, and the knowledge the other will always be there to love them is all they've ever wanted.
Azriel’s eyes flit down to her lips, and then he’s leaning in, and she’s doing the same, and-
She pulls away, wincing. “I puked about five minutes ago. I don’t think you want to kiss me right now.”
He rolls his eyes, tipping her chin up. “Y/N L/N, I have waited at least two centuries for the opportunity to kiss you. Don’t stop me now.” And he presses his lips to hers. It’s gentle, soft, sweet. Everything he feels around this girl.
“You’re gross.” She mumbles.
“That’s what love does to you.”
“And you’re a sap.” She grins. “I suppose you’re lucky I love you, even if you are going soft for me.”
“Shut up, sweetheart.”
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@topaz125 @starryhiraeth @nahminae @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @honeywithemoney @marvelsmylife @sunny1616 @lilah-asteria @emryb @i-am-infinite @st4r-girl-official
my loves ty for ur support! :)
#fluffy az does something to me#but angry az willing to murder for r is even better#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#acotar
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hi mae, if its not too much trouble could you do something with james and r where r has to deal with likr a creep on a train or smth. ive just had a real weird experience rn and its just.hm
Ugh I'm so sorry babe, I wish we each had a James with us all the time
cw: man being creepy (no sa or harassment, just gross behavior)
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 934 words
You clock the danger long before your boyfriend does, but you suppose it’s a lot more drilled into one of you than the other.
The man gets on a few stops after you do, and his gaze seems aimless until it lands on you. It’s not a busy time; the bus is nearly empty, but of course he goes and stands next to you as if there are no open seats. You should have known better than to sit by the aisle.
James’ chatter fades into the background as your mind starts to whirl with possibilities. What if this man grabs you? What if he tries to keep you from getting off at your stop? What if he waits until you get off, and then follows you home?
“Hey.” James is looking at you quizzically. He reaches for your opposite arm, scrubbing up and down lightly. “You okay?”
You use the touch as an excuse to lean into his side, murmuring so the man can’t hear you. “If that guy’s still here when it’s my stop, will you get off with me? Or I could ride to yours, if that’s better.”
James looks past you, noticing the man for the first time, and you see clarity dawn on his expression as he does the same math you had. You can feel the man’s stare burning into the side of your head; he’s not even being subtle about it. James pulls you closer to his side.
“Hey, mate,” he says, tension underlying his jovial tone. “Do you wanna take a seat? There are plenty open.”
You chance a look over, and the man’s eyes lock with yours like it’s the opportunity he’s been waiting for. You feel James’ arm tense.
“You have pretty hair,” the man says.
You smile tersely. Polite, carefully unfriendly. “Thanks.”
That seems to satisfy him; the man does take a seat. The one directly behind you. Anxiety prickles over your skin at not being able to see him.
You at least feel better now that James is aware, too. He keeps his face turned to you, one eye on the seat behind you, as he picks up your conversation about the film you’ve just seen. Remus and Sirius were the ones who wanted to see it in the cinema; they thought it was artistic and meaningful, whereas you and James are in agreement it was dull and pretentious. Odd, aimless dialogue, experimental camera angles, hardly any plot. James thinks if you can get Sirius away from Remus he’ll agree. Competitive thing that he is, he’s hatching a plan to do so when the man leans forward and pushes his nose into your hair.
The sound of his inhale sends goosebumps racing down every inch of your skin. You go rigid, attempting subtly to lean forward while all the nerves in your body scream at you to run.
“Hey, what the fuck?” James doesn’t take care to lower his voice.
As though you’d been waiting for permission, you jump away, getting as far out of reach as possible before turning around. James’ arm has barred across the back of your seat, his hand gripping the pole on the opposite side and the muscles in his forearm strained with tension.
“What makes you think you can do that to someone?” he asks, equal parts incredulous and irate.
People in the bus have turned to look. The bus slows as you approach the next stop.
“Let’s get off,” you tell James.
“What?” He turns to you for a second before seeming to remember he should be keeping an eye on the man. Who has been silent, but for what he said to you. He looks entertained by James’ outburst, which almost scares you worse than anything that’s happened thus far. You know James is very fit, but you don’t want to get him in a fight. “Why should we get off? We haven’t done anything wrong!”
The doors open, and people start to file off. “James,” you say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and giving a slight tug. “Please.”
He hesitates a second longer, looking somewhere between bewildered and outraged, before he says, “Fine, okay,” and grabs your bag. You tug him into the aisle, careful to keep both of you out of reach of the man. Once you’re off the bus, you start walking quickly, pulling James along and casting glances over your shoulder to be sure the man from the bus doesn’t follow. It’s only when the bus pulls away and he hasn’t gotten off that you stop.
“Ugh.” You heave a tremendous sigh, hugging James around the middle and dropping your forehead to his chest. “Sorry.”
“That was fucking insane,” he says, cupping the back of your head protectively. “Does that happen to you often?”
You let out a little laugh. “That specifically? No. But I know better than to talk to guys like that.”
“Sorry.” James kisses your hairline. Lets his lips rest there. “I thought it was going to help.”
“It’s not your fault, he was going to be weird either way. I’m really glad you were there.”
He squeezes you tighter. It helps you release the tension from your shoulders, giving in to him. “That was fucking disgusting,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m ever not there.”
You shudder. “Is it weird that I feel like I need to shower?”
“Nope. But do it at mine. I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about that guy finding your place for the next several days.”
“How would he do that, James?”
“Dunno. But just to be safe.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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A NEW GOOD LUCK CHARM
FERNANDO ALONSO SMAU PT.1
Fernando Alonso x Russel!Reader
Send your requests/submissions🍓
Faceclaim: Perrie Edwards & her son
Liked by YNRussell, LewisHamilton, AlexAlbon & 698,476 others
GeorgeRussell: Birthday post for my sister, as she threatened if I didn’t she would run me over with my car, so happy birthday sis, as much as you scare me, you’re actually an alright sister🫶🏻
tagged: YNRussell
YNRussell: GEORGE? THE THIRD PICTURE?? do you have a death wish??
GeorgeRussell: ‘thanks George, I really appreciate it, can’t wait to see you again, love and miss you’ who raised you?? damn
YNRussell: yeah, u clearly do have a death wish. Where are my car keys?
GeorgeRussell: NO WAIT IM SORRY DON’T RUN ME OVER
AlexAlbon: Happy Birthday sister from another mister, missing you!!
YNRussell: ALEX MY BABY, my favourite sibling, tell Lily you both have to come over soon, Axel misses you!!
Lilymhe: Axel misses me? i’m omw right now, dropping everything 🏃♀️
GeorgeRussell: um hello?? i’m his ACTUAL uncle, does he miss me too?
YNRussell: not since you decided he was mater and you were lightening mcqueen, no.
LandoNorris: that’s low George, real low. You took being lightening mcqueen away from a child??
GeorgeRussell: HES 2? I didn’t think he’d tell the difference😔
LandoNorris: they always know.
Username1: George has a sister? is this common knowledge or am I late to the party?
username2: it’s not overly common knowledge I suppose, she likes to keep private a lot due to being a single mum. She likes to keep her son out of the spotlight a lot, though she has been going to watch George race a bit more regularly, so hopefully we’ll see more of her!
Username1: she’s a single mum? she does not look old enough to have a child omg
Username3: I love that Axel has so many uncles throughout F1😭
FernandoAlonso: Feliz cumpleaños, YN!
YNRussell liked this comment!
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INTERVIEW WITH GEORGE RUSSELL
INTERVIEWER: So, George, we’ve seen you have a visitor on the paddock today. Your sister, YN and her son, your nephew, have come to watch you race.
GEORGE: Yeah, they have! I’m super close with my sister so having her here is always amazing, especially when she brings my nephew, it makes the race extra special for me.
INTERVIEWER: Does your nephew have a favourite driver? Or is that place reserved for you?
GEORGE: *laughs* no, i don’t think that place is for me, he’s not really interested in the fact I race. He’s pretty young still to understand who his favourite driver is yet but he always seems to clap when Alonso comes onto the screen so i’m going to take a wild guess and say its him!
INTERVIEWER: Will he have the chance to meet Alonso today, or will he be staying at the Mercedes garage?
GEORGE: Knowing my sister, she will be taking him wherever he wants to go, so it is most likely they will end up in the Aston Martin garage.
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
The sun was shining brightly as Y/N held Axel’s tiny hand, leading him through the bustling paddock. The air was electric with excitement, the roar of engines in the background making her son’s eyes widen with awe. Today was a special day. Uncle George was racing, and Y/N had promised Axel that they would watch him together. But Axel had other ideas.
“Mama, see Nando?” Axel asked, his big blue eyes sparkling with hope.
Y/N smiled down at her son, her heart melting at his innocence. “We’ll see, darling. Fernando is very busy getting ready for the race, just like Uncle George. But we’ll try, okay?”
Axel nodded enthusiastically, his little feet practically skipping as they made their way to the Aston Martin garage. Y/N’s heart raced a little faster too. Fernando Alonso was a legend, and even she felt a bit starstruck at the thought of possibly meeting him.
They approached the garage, the vibrant green and black of the Aston Martin team standing out against the sea of colors in the paddock. Y/N spoke to a friendly team member, explaining Axel’s wish and who she had come to the race with.
“We can’t promise anything, but let’s see what we can do,” the team member said with a kind smile.
As they waited, Axel’s excitement was palpable. He clutched his miniature Alonso cap tightly, his eyes darting around in hopes of catching a glimpse of his hero. Y/N knelt down beside him, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.
“Remember, Axel, even if we don’t get to meet him, we’re going to have a great time watching uncle George and uncle Alex race,” she reminded him gently.
But luck seemed to be on their side today. After a few moments, Fernando Alonso himself walked over, a broad smile on his face. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Here he was, the man she’d watched on TV for years, now standing right in front of them.
“Hello there, little man,” Fernando said, his voice warm and friendly as he crouched down to Axel’s level. “I hear you’re a big fan.”
Axel’s eyes widened in pure delight, “Nando, I’m Axel!”
“Nice to meet you, Axel,” Fernando replied, shaking his tiny hand. Then he looked up at Y/N, his eyes twinkling. “And you must be George’s sister, YN, i’m Fernando, i’ve heard a lot about you from everyone.”
“Y-yes, I’m Y/N,” she stammered, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. “Thank you so much for taking the time to meet us.”
Fernando smiled warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Would you like to see the car up close, Axel?”
Axel’s face lit up with excitement, and Fernando led them to the car. Y/N watched, her heart swelling with gratitude and admiration, as Fernando lifted Axel and carefully placed him in the cockpit. Axel’s giggles of delight were like music to her ears.
As Axel explored the buttons and steering wheel with wide-eyed wonder, Fernando turned to Y/N. “He’s a great kid. You must be very proud.”
“I am,” she said softly, watching her son with love. “This means the world to him. And to me.”
Y/N couldn’t believe how lovely and down-to-earth Fernando was. She found herself completely starstruck, not just by his talent but by his kindness. Y/N had met many racers through her years of watching her brother race, but today was the first time meeting Fernando, and he was so unlike the rest.
After a few minutes, Fernando gently lifted Axel out of the car and handed him back to Y/N. “Good luck charm,” he said with a wink. “I’ll race even faster today knowing Axel is cheering me on. And maybe i’ll win if i have the luck of getting your number?” He said, as Y/N laughed at the cheesiness of his pickup line.
“Do you use that with every woman that comes into the garage?” YN joked, not thinking he was serious, but from the look on his face, she could tell he wasn’t making a joke of her. “Never,” he smiled slightly, as Y/N swallowed.
Y/N hadn’t dated since becoming pregnant with her son, and she hadn’t thought she would date again. Raising a child was hard, and it was harder when there were other people involved, so she hadn’t gone on dates, given her number out, she had focused on Axel.
“You want my number?” y/n asked, dumbfounded, not quite understanding what she was hearing. Fernando gave a chuckle at the look on your face.
“Of course, who wouldn’t from a beautiful woman like yourself?”
YN became flustered as she struggled to get her phone out of her back pocket, not fully understanding how she had gone from visiting her son’s favourite driver to him asking her for her number.
Exchanging numbers, Axel stayed by Fernando’s side practically holding onto the drivers leg for dear life. Y/N apologised, reaching to grab her son and place him on her hip, but Fernando waved her off, reaching for Axel instead, giving him a hug goodbye before he went off to race.
“What do you say if I do well today, I take you and your mummy out for food sometime?” Fernando asked Axel, looking at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. Axel’s mouth fell open, he was young, but he knew that Fernando meant spending more time together, and for that he gave a squeal, wanting to spend more time with ‘Nando.
“I guess you’ll have to do well today then,” Y/N smiled, as Fernando smiled back at her.
“I guess I will.”
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Liked by YNRussell, F1, LanceStroll & 979,567 others
FernandoAlonso: Good ending to the race and a few new visitors to the garage, thank you to my new good luck charms who came and saw me today!
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YNRussell: Thank you for having us, you made Axel’s day! Can’t wait to come and see you race again soon!
FernandoAlonso: bring him back to the next race, I need my good luck charms around
GeorgeRussell: Axel, you traitor. But also, WHAT IS HAPPENING?? This is where @/YN was the whole race?
Username5: George is all of us rn
LandoNorris: He’s still got it with the ladies, smooth Nando
AlexAlbon: King Axel👑
Username6: are they dating?? what is happening?
Username7: isn’t he a bit old for her?
Username8: she’s literally 29 with a child, i’m pretty sure she’s capable of making her own decisions
Username9: NEW F1 COUPLE??
#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#fernando alonso#fernando alonso x reader
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hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!
Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)
Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein
description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.
content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference
word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)
/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/
Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.
You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.
You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.
"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.
"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"
You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.
"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.
"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.
"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.
"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."
You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.
"It's just my roommate-"
Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.
He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.
It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.
There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.
You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.
Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.
"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.
"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."
A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.
There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.
Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.
"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."
"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.
"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."
"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.
"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.
"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"
You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.
It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.
You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.
"Does that mean you're coming back here?"
"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."
A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.
He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.
So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.
Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.
Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?
But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.
A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,
"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,
"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.
"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.
The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.
The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"
"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"
You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.
Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.
He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,
"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"
Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.
And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.
"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."
"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.
"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."
"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.
"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."
He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.
He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.
"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.
The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand
"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)
"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.
Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.
He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.
If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.
Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.
A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)
You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.
/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/
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Am I the only one who is deeply reminded of Tim Drake every time they see a John Mulaney comedy special?
If John Mulaney was 15 and looked 13, he'd be the prime actor to cast as Tim Drake. Because he has this cynical but boyish charm like he's a 50s professor trapped in a modern boy's body and very self-aware about it. He's seen some shit and done some shit, but he manages to look very put-together.
Here are some actual quotes from John's comedy specials that Tim Drake would totally say if he was writing his autobiography:
On Bruce Wayne:
Tim: Kids, you think your dad’s weird now? Wait for his dad to die. Then he goes on a whole quest.
He’ll wanna take more family pictures, but be angrier during them. “Can we get one photo where we all look nice?”
We’re like, “I don’t think this motherfucker’s doing that well.”
Tim: My dad never hit us. My dad is a lawyer and he was a debate team champion. So he would pick us apart psychologically.
Tim: He was a man most acquainted with misery. He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.
Tim: He didn’t want us to not get kidnapped. He wanted us to almost get kidnapped and then fight the guy off using weird, psych-out, back-room Chicago violence.
On being Robins:
Tim: This was always a very dramatic process – ’cause we were thirteen, we looked nine.
Tim: God, I guess they’re finally going to kill us all. All right. This is younger than I thought I would be but we are pretty big assholes.
Tim: I thought I was going to be murdered my entire childhood. In high school people were like, “What are your top three colleges?”
I was like, “Top three colleges? I thought I would be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”
On being 'the smartest Robin':
Tim: I don’t know what my body is for other than just taking my head from room to room.
Tim, to Bart: Here’s my plan, you and me get very dressed up, including hats, and then we wave handkerchiefs at it until it disappears over the horizon.
On being Red Robin:
Tim: I was hoping, uh, by now that I would look older but that didn’t happen.
I don’t look older, I just look worse, I think. Honestly, when I’m walking down the street, no one’s ever like, “Hey, look at that man!” I think they’re just like “Whoa! That tall child looks terrible! Get some rest, tall child! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends!”
On Gotham:
Tim: What a historic and beautiful and deeply haunted building this is. I keep walking through cold spots being like, “I wonder who that used to be.”
Tim: I was coming into my apartment building one night and I saw in front of my building a wheel chair, knocked in its side with no one in it. That’s a bad thing to see. Something happened there… you hope it was a miracle… but probably not… probably something worse.
On staying calm while Gotham is on fire:
Tim: I try to stay a little optimistic, even though I will admit, things are getting pretty sticky.
Tim: I’ll just keep all my emotions right here [points to heart] and then one day, I’ll die.
Tim: And by the way, part of me was like: “Whatever"… you know? You ever have those days where you’re like: “This might as well happen."
On Gotham Rogues:
Tim: He did not look like his job description. He looked like he should be the conductor on a locomotive powered by confetti. But, instead, he made his living in murder.
On the fracturing of the Batfamily amidst Bruce's supposed death and Tim's search for him:
Tim: It was an intervention. For me. Interventions for me, are my least favorite kind of intervention.
Tim [searching for Bruce while Dick is Batman and Damian is his Robin]:
I, meanwhile, was loose in New York City, not doing well.
On his time with the League of Assassins and Ra's Al-Ghul's interest
Tim: Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that.
Tim: You’re all uncomfortable now, but I’m way over it.
On college:
Tim: I went to college. For the whole time. Holy shit, right? I just got a letter from my college, which was fun ’cause mail, you know?
And they said… How did they phrase it? They said, “Give us some money!
“As a gift! We want a gift! But only if it’s money.” I found this peculiar.
I went to college, I was 18 years old, I looked like I was 11. I lived like a goddamn Ninja Turtle. I didn’t drink water the entire time.
Tim, at his first frat party: People were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw our legs off.
Miscellaneous:
Tim, in an argument with Steph: That wasn’t what I was telling you, but alright, lets talk about this entirely new topic.
Tim, when asked if he's been up since yesterday: And I was like: “No” you know, like a liar.
Tim: I went into the room to get the massage and the woman there told me to undress to my comfort level. So I put on a sweater and a pair of corduroy pants, and I felt safe.
Tim: Those were the choices — salad or fries, the two most different foods in the universe. That’s like saying, “What kinda day do you wanna have? Do you wanna be active and go to the bathroom and stuff, or do you wanna lay on the floor moaning?”
Tim, talking to Kon at 5AM: It was really easy to get away with murder before they knew about DNA. It was ridiculously easy. Like, what was even going on back then? What was a murder investigation like in 1935??
One cop would just walk in and be like, [speaks sharply with an old-timey accent] “Detective! We found a pool of the killer’s blood in that hallway!”
And he would just be like [low voice] “Hmmm… gross! Mop it up. Now then, back to my hunch… [holds chin with hand and looks around the floor] Hmmmmmm…. Look for clues. [stands up straight] I’ll tell you what we’ll do! We’ll draw chalk around the body. That way, [narrows eyes and looks side to side and speaks with a suspicious tone] we’ll know where it was…”
Tim, showing up to brunch at Denny's: Hope you don’t mind that I dressed up. It was my first communion today so I decided to come right from it.
Tim: I was sitting up in bed a few weeks ago like… [groans] You know, life.
Tim: How did they find out about the inside zipper pocket? That pocket has eluded everyone in my life.
#i know some arent perfect#dont take this too seriously#but the vibes#are very tim drake#batfamily#tim drake#john mulaney#batman#red robin#robin#dc comics#batfam#damian wayne#bruce wayne#dick grayson#bart allen#kon el kent#conner kent#tim drake incorrect quotes#batfam incorrect quotes#john mulaney quotes#batfam memes
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my little attorney 💥
design notes:
klavier's cutie mark is based off a treble clef. i thought that his signature G looked kinda similar to the treble's curved shape, so i drew it as a pointier treble clef and attached some chains to it
trucy's cutie mark is supposed to resemble the magic trick where you pull out a never-ending rope of cloth, except they're actually eyes when you look closer
there's not much to say about apollo's cutie mark. just some eye and sun imagery, with light radiating from the eye like sun rays
apollo has a unicorn tail and other fun things going on with his genetics
as much as i wanted to draw klavier as a pretty unicorn, i felt like that would've been too many unicorns in this cast (unicorn-adjacent in apollo's case?), so pegasus klavier it was. i also considered making him a bat pony, since bat wings kinda suit the sleek leather aesthetic, but i don't know... maybe next time
i started working on these designs quite a while ago, but i put off finishing them for so long that i was starting to dislike how they looked hsdjfs, so i just started fresh… here's some of the older sketches
#ace attorney#gyakuten saiban#klapollo#apollo justice#klavier gavin#trucy wright#my little pony#mlp#design notes and older sketches are under the read more!#i got inspired by everyone else's pony designs and wanted to try my hand at them ^_^#art#my art
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i saw this post on and got inspired. enjoy!
"It was nice running into you."
"Yeah, yeah, you too. It was—I'm glad we could catch up."
You held your bag in both of your hands and leaned back on your heels, waiting for the sudden tension to cease. Harry scratched his neck awkwardly while you looked down at the cobbled streets beneath your shoes. When a minute passed and neither of you said anything, when two couples excised themselves to walk past you, you finally decided to break the silence.
"I'm headed this way."
"Me too. We can walk together?"
"O—Okay."
Harry extended his arm out, a clear message for you to go first, so you did. For a split second, his hand grazed your lower back in that protective gesture he always used to use when you walked anywhere. But that had been when you were together, and now you weren't, and even though his hand merely hovered awkwardly behind you, you swore you could still feel it.
"Your hair looks nice. I don't think I've ever seen it so short before," you said, needing to break the silence all over again before it consumed you.
"Thanks, I, uh, I shaved it a few months back. It's finally starting to grow in."
It must've been soon after your break up, you realized, quickly doing the math in your head. A change, a fresh start after the end of a long relationship. You understood that, knew neither of you needed to comment on it, or the fact that you no longer wore the necklace Harry bought you for your first anniversary, though you'd seen him glance down at the missing piece of jewelry multiple times since you ran into each other.
"It's cute," you said, resisting the intrusive urge to reach up and touch his hair, instead clasping your hands behind your back.
"Are you across the bridge?" Harry asked, gesturing to one of the many bridges that stretched across the Tiber.
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
Harry shrugged, the canvas bag on his shoulder slipping a fraction. "You always liked Trastevere."
You smiled, charmed by how Harry still seemed to know you so intrinsically. "And you? Are you staying in Prati?"
Harry shook his head before waving to a fan who had spotted him. He didn't stop, though, and kept walking beside you, asking about your family, specifically your grandmother, who was his Scrabble partner nearly the entirety of your relationship.
"Good. I play Scrabble with her on the weekends now. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm not a good enough opponent, but she'll never say it to my face."
"Graceful as always, your nan," Harry nodded in agreement. "Probably wouldn't say the same thing about chess, though."
"No, probably not. Do you still play?" you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.
He was so close, close enough that the sleeve of his green shirt grazed your bare arm. Close enough that if you really wanted it to the back of your hand could graze his. Instead you shifted your hand away.
"When I can," Harry said, his mouth twitching as if recalling a memory. "I've been focusing on writing most days, but I play whenever I'm stuck."
"How's that going?"
"How's work?"
"Sorry, go ahead," you said, blushing a little. Would it always be this awkward around him? You hoped not. Harry had been a friend first, and even though you knew you shouldn't,y you missed his companionship some nights. Lots of nights. Most nights.
"No, you go. Catch me up on all the latest drama at work."
So you did, falling back into familiar, neutral territory as you brought Harry up to speed on your co-workers.
Before long, you'd made it to the apartment you were renting, your palms suddenly warm as you searched your purse for your keys. You were stalling, you both knew it, but Harry didn't comment, nor did he leave, didn't offer any reason to finally say goodbye.
You knew this was where it was supposed to end. That a chance encounter with your ex in a foreign country really shouldn't have gone on this long. You knew that, and yet...
"Do you want to come in?" you asked, scrambling for any logical reason as to why Harry should follow you into your apartment. "I—I, uh, I could make us coffee and—"
"Please. I mean—Sure. That would be...that would be fine."
Relief flooded through you, though that was quickly replaced by a guilty sort of anticipation as you unlocked the door to the main building of the apartment, as Harry followed you up a couple flights of stairs, as he waited once again for you to unlock a door. When you were inside, when you set your things down on the small dining table, you turned to face your ex.
Harry's gaze was once again lowered to your collarbones, to the place where the necklace he gave you used to sit. Then he met your eyes, the expression in them clear. It was the first time you'd seen them since running into him today. He'd kept his sunglasses on the whole time, perhaps to hide his expressions more, because now that you properly met his gaze, you saw it all. Those green eyes you still loved so much betrayed his every thought, and you knew yours probably did as well.
It was hard to say who moved first. If you grabbed the front of Harry's shirt before he wrapped an arm around your waist and fisted your hair in his other hand. But none of it mattered when your mouth met his, when your hands traveled up to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs tracing the familiar planes of his face.
A graze of his teeth against your bottom lip had you gasping, had him smiling as if that was the exact reaction he'd been hoping for. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down his scalp, satisfied by the groan that vibrated against your mouth as his tongue caressed yours.
"This isn't—It's not—" you tried to say, losing focus as Harry left a trail of kisses from your jaw to the base of your neck and back up again. "This doesn't mean—"
"I know," Harry breathed, his forehead pressed against yours as he toyed with the bow that held the front of your blouse together. Your breath hitched as his knuckle grazed your exposed stomach. "This doesn't change anything. Now take this off."
You almost made him do it just because he ordered you to, but you knew why he wanted you to be the one to untie the knot of your blouse. It meant you were saying yes to this moment, it meant you were saying yes to doing whatever it was you were about to do.
So you pulled at the blouse until it came undone, leaving it open so it revealed a strip of bare skin going right up the middle of your body. The rest you would leave up to him.
Harry shrugged out of his own sweater and t-shirt before reaching out to push back the shoulders of your shirt until it was off completely, falling into a puddle of fabric at your feet beside his. His gaze alone was too much and not enough, more explicit than it had any right to be. He stood there and drank you in for a full minute as if in a daze, taking in every mark and imperfect like he was reacquainting himself.
It was hard to get the words out, but you managed. "Still broken up?"
"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes still roving over every inch of your body that he could see. Then he blinked as if remembering the situation for what it was. "Yeah, still broken up."
There wasn't much left to say after that, really.
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#ex boyfriendrry#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#ex boyfriend!harry
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moth to a flame- m. sturniolo
pairing: matt sturniolo x reader
summary: you and matt have hated each other since you were kids, you two constantly bickering and arguing. however, there has always been an underlying tension, but you and matt have always chosen to ignore it. yet, the unspoken tension begins to break when another guy takes an interest in you.
warnings: language, angst, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), fluff, cheating (don’t do this either pls), nick once again being a g
masterlist
lowercase intended
a/n: does the smut suck? yes probably but it’s okay 😌
“you have a date? how much did you pay him?” matt asks you, a snark evident in his tone. you roll your eyes at his comment. “guys find me very likable, thank you very much.” you retort. “oh i’m sure.” he scoffs. “can you just shut the hell up?” you snap, looking into the eyes of the boy you’ve hated since freshman year.
you met the triplets when you moved to boston in the ninth grade. you shared a class with nick, and you two quickly hit it off. he then introduced you to his two brothers, matt and chris. chris was super sweet and welcoming towards you, but matt was the complete opposite. he barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was to make some snide remark. at first, you let it slide, thinking he was just uncomfortable around new people, but the mean comments never subsided, so one day, you snapped back at him, much to his surprise. thus began the endless fighting and screaming matches between the both of you. it got so bad that nick and chris wouldn’t allow you two alone in the same room out of fear that you might kill each other. you two found ways to argue about anything, even things as stupid as what the best soda is.
although you hate matt with every fiber in your being, you still love nick and chris as if they were your own brothers, and they obviously felt the same. when their youtube channel first blew up, you were always by their side to support them. eventually, they decided they were going to move to los angeles, and they asked you to go with them. you immediately accepted because the course you wanted to study in college had great programs in los angeles.
you’re currently in the triplets’ apartment, telling them about the most recent development in your life: you got a date. “y/n, just ignore matt.” nick interrupts yours and matt’s squabble. “so, what’s his name? how did you meet him?” nick asks excitedly. “well, his name’s blake and we met at the coffee shop on campus.” you smile. matt rolls his eyes. “blake? the guy sounds like a douchebag.” “and you would know all about douchebags wouldn’t you?” you ask with a false sweetness in your voice. “what the hell is that supposed to mean? you saying i’m a douchebag?” matt narrows his eyes at you. “if the shoe fits.” you shrug. “okay can you guys not for like two seconds?” chris asks. you raise your hands up in surrender, “fine but he started it.” “sure blame me for everything.” matt says sarcastically. “fuck off.” you reply. “guys seriously, stop.” nick tells you sternly. “anyway where are you and blake going?” chris asks, trying to lessen the tension between you and matt. “we’re going to this restaurant down the street from my apartment. it’s pretty nice actually.” you tell him, smiling slightly. you then stand up and grab your car keys. “i’m gonna go get ready, and i’ll tell you guys all about it after.” “you better!” nick yells out after you as you walk out the door towards your car.
nick watches you leave, then turns to matt, “we need to talk.” matt raises an eyebrow, “okay…” he says hesitantly, setting down his phone. “what the fuck is up with you and y/n?” “what do you mean?” matt asks. “you two have been at each other’s throats for years! it’s so exhausting watching you two constantly fight over dumb shit!” nick yells at him. “what about her? why is she not included in this conversation?” he retorts. “because you started this shit! you were awful to her when you first met! this whole situation could have been avoided if you were man enough to tell her you like her!” matt’s taken aback by nick’s outburst. “tell her what?” he asks, hoping he heard his brother wrong. “come on matt, it’s obvious that you like her.” nick deadpans. “you’re kidding right? she’s disgusting, and not to mention, a total bitch. how you guys tolerate her shit, i’ll never know, but i sure as hell won’t.” matt rants. “okay matt, whatever you need to tell yourself.” chris adds, rolling his eyes. “you agree with nick? seriously?” matt turns to the youngest triplet. chris just shrugs, “i mean, yeah. i might be an idiot, but even i can tell that you like her.” matt scoffs, “fuck you guys. i’m going for a drive. i’ll be back later.” he stands up and grabs his keys. he then walks out the front door, making sure to slam it shut.
matt gets into his car and begins to drive, not knowing where to go. during his drive, thoughts of you begin to invade matt’s head. there is absolutely no way he likes you. you’re annoying, you’re stubborn, and you’re just so insufferable to be around. sure, you’re conventionally attractive, but that doesn’t mean anything, it actually pisses matt off more because he doesn’t understand how such a pretty face could have such an awful personality paired with it.
after driving for a while, an idea pops into matt’s head. matt knows you well enough to know which restaurant you would go to because it was always one of your favorites. he begins to drive that way and plots what he’s going to do once he gets there. after a few moments of contemplating, he decides to just sit a couple of tables away from you and your date, just to make you uncomfortable and on edge.
he arrives at the restaurant and walks in through the large glass doors at the front of the building. the moment he walks in, he can spot you and blake in the back. you’re laughing at something he said, and an unfamiliar feeling began to pool in the pit of matt’s stomach. his thoughts are cut off by the hostess coming up to the stand, “how many?” she asks. “umm just one, and is there any way i can get a table back there?” he points to where you’re sitting. “of course. follow me.” she smiles as she begins to walk towards the your table, matt following close behind. “here you are, sir.” the hostess sets the menu down on the table before walking away. he sits down and looks at the menu, waiting for you to notice his presence.
as you’re talking to blake, you notice a familiar head of hair out of the corner of your eye. you look over an see matt sitting diagonally across from your table. your eyes widen when your eyes meet his. what the fuck is he doing here? you try your best to ignore him, but you can see him continuously glancing at you. blake notices you looking over to your right. “are you okay, y/n? is something wrong?” he asks. your eyes snap back to his. “no i thought i saw something, but i didn’t.” blake just shrugs and continues talking. you try to listen to his words, but you can’t. your mind constantly drifts back to the brown-haired boy sitting to your right.
after a couple hours, and some very awkward glances to matt, your date finally ends. you and blake bid each other goodnight before you walk back to your car. you see matt walking to his own car and you send him with a death glare, to which he just responds with a cocky smile. you wait for him to drive out of the parking lot, and once he does, you follow him home, wanting answers as to why he thought it was a good idea to crash your date.
as he pulls into his garage, you park on the street. you turn your engine off and get out of the car, storming through the front door, where you see matt standing in the kitchen. you walk over to him and slam your purse down on the counter.
“why do you feel the need to ruin every good thing that comes my way? what do you have to gain from that?” you ask matt frustratedly. “i don’t ruin every good thing. i just wanted to make sure he’s good for you.” he replies nonchalantly. “that’s not for you to decide matthew!” you yell, moving closer to him. “y/n, you just need to trust me.” his calmness is pissing you off even more. “but i don’t trust you! all you’ve done since we met is berate me and talk shit about me! how can i trust your words when i can’t even trust you?!” you begin to wave your arms frantically. “look,” he begins, “i know guys like that and i just-” “guys like what matt? guys like you?” you ask accusingly. “no. guys that will treat a girl right until they get into her pants and then leave once they get what they want.” you scoff at his words. who does he think he is? “you don’t know what you’re talking about. did he say something to make you believe he’s like that?” matt averts his gaze to the floor. “no, but i have a feeling.” you laugh, not believing the words that are leaving his mouth. “a feeling? so you just made it up.” he looks back up at you. “god, i didn’t make it up y/n! stop being so naive and open your fucking eyes!” matt begins to raise his voice. “you are such a fucking asshole! you have no right to stick your nose in my love life! just because no one wants you doesn’t mean you get project that onto me!” you yell in his face, seething with rage. matt’s face turns cold, his eyes boring into yours with a look you can’t make out. he remains silent for a few seconds. “what no snarky comment? did i hit a sore spot? it’s so pathetic that you’re so insecure that you feel the need to-” you’re cut off by a pair of lips smashing against yours. your eyes widen and you can feel yourself almost melting into the kiss before you realize who it is you’re kissing. you quickly shove him backwards, and matt stumbles a little. you look into his eyes, the both of you saying nothing. you don’t know what comes over you, but before you can think it through, you take a step forward, grab the back of his neck, and press your lips against matt’s once again. the kiss is rough, teeth and tongues clashing together.
matt’s kisses begin to fall from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking as he goes further and further down. “matt” you moan breathlessly. “what is it baby?” he asks in a husky voice and you could cum from just the sound of his voice. “we should go to your room.” you say between small moans. you can feel him nod against the crook of your neck as he put his hand under your ass to pick you up. you immediately wrap your legs around his waist as he begins to walk towards his room. you get into his room and he sits down on the edge of his bed, so now you’re in his lap.
matt removes his head from your collarbone and he finds your lips again. you subconsciously begin to move your hips against his, a soft groan leaving his lips and you can feel yourself clench at the noise. matt’s hands slowly trail up your back and you can feel his right hand grip your hair. he gives it a quick but firm tug, pulling your head back which gives him the opportunity to attack your jawline. “matt please.” you breathe out, needing his touch. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, knowing damn well what you want. “i need you.” he looks up at you with a smirk on his face. “yeah? then show me how bad you need me.” you feel his grip on you relax slightly, so you get off his lap and drop to your knees. your eyes immediately find the large tent in his sweats. you can feel your mouth water with desire.
you grab his dick through his pants and matt lets out a light gasp. “don’t tease me baby.” you bite your lip and tug his sweatpants down to his thighs, his extremely hard dick slapping against his stomach. you wrap your hand around his base and begin to stroke him up and down. you then bring your lip to his tip, giving it a few kitten licks. matt’s hand finds your hair and forces himself down your throat. you feel your eyes begin to water as you find your rhythm. you continue to bob your head up and down and pump what you can’t fit in your mouth. “fuckkk” matt moans, his hand tightly gripping your hair. “i’m gonna cum baby.” you quicken your pace and you can feel your cunt dripping, making a mess between your thighs. matt’s groans become louder and louder as he feels himself getting closer. his dick twitches in your mouth and you still your movements, feeling his thick ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat. you swallow every drop before pulling off him, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath.
“fuck that was so good.” he praises you as he grabs your hands and leads you back onto the bed. he flips the two of you around so now he’s on top of you. “you’re such a good girl for me.” he says before he kisses you again. he bites your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. you can feel his dick sliding up and down your clothed cunt. “please fuck me matt.” you whine against his lips. “patience baby.” he demands. his hands find the waistband of your pants, yanking them down so your bottom half is only covered by your thin panties. he looks down and sees the wet patch that covers the bottom of them. “holy fuck you’re soaked. you really liked sucking me off that much, huh?” he then gets up on his knees and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach, and you can somehow feel yourself become wetter. “how bad do you want me?” he asks you cockily. “so bad matty. please fuck me.” he chuckles, “so needy.” he then lines himself up to your leaking hole, swiping his tip against your clit a few times before sliding himself inside you slowly. you let out a loud moan and he covers your mouth. “shhh baby. we don’t want nick or chris to hear how good i’m making feel do we?” you shake your head as he continues to rut his hips into yours. he removes his hand from your mouth and it soon finds its place on your throat. “fuck you’re so fucking tight. oh my god.” he throws his head back in pleasure as you moan out his name. “you’re such a little slut for me aren’t you? you like it when i fuck you like this?” he smirks down at you, admiring the way your jaw was slack and your eyes rolled back. he tightens his grip around your neck as a warning, “answer me or i’ll stop.” “fuck yes matt i love it.” you moan out. he takes his hand off your neck and trails it down to your clit. he begins to rub it in small, tight circles and you can feel the coil in your stomach begin to form.
“fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum soon.” he picks up his pace, going harder as his hand rubs your clit faster. you can feel yourself begin to clench around him, matt starting to let out broken moans at the sensation. “you gonna cum baby?” you nod, on the verge of cumming around him. “give it to me baby. cum on my dick.” he urges. at his words, you let go, letting out a loud and long moan as you release around his dick. matt’s pace begins to falter as he feels himself about to fall apart too. “where do you want it baby?” “inside me please.” you beg. he twitches inside of you and you can feel him cumming inside you, painting your swollen walls white as he lets out a groan of your name. he stills inside you for a few seconds before pulling out. he gets up from the bed and walks to his bathroom. you feel the sink run and turn off and he returns to the bed with a damp towel. he begins to clean you up a bit before tossing the towel to the side. he crawls towards you and lies down next you, pulling you into his arms.
you both lie in his bed for a few more minutes before you speak up. “this can’t happen again.” matt turns to look at you, “why not?” he questions. “i don’t want to hurt blake. he’s a good guy.” matt scoffs. “sure he is.” he says, sarcasm evident in his tone. “you don’t even know him matt.” you try to reason. “i don’t need to know the guy to know he’s an asshole. his name’s blake, and that says enough.” you roll your eyes at his childish behavior. “okay matt whatever.” you pull the covers off your body and you begin to put your clothes back on. matt grabs your arms and spins you around to face him. he looks into your eyes for a few moments before crashing his lips against yours. you want to pull away, but you can’t. the kiss becomes more and more heated as he backs you up until you’re both lying on the bed with him on top of you. “this is the last time.” you demand, knowing that’s probably a lie. “no it’s not.” he says against your lips as he begins to trail kisses down your neck.
weeks pass by, and you and matt are still hooking up. because of this, you’ve become more tolerant towards each other. you don’t necessarily like one another, but you can at least go a day without arguing. nick and chris begin to notice the change in dynamic between the both of you. they don’t ask questions because they’re just happy you all can hang out without the two of them being caught in the middle of one of your petty arguments.
much to matt’s dismay however, blake is still in the picture. you haven’t become official with him yet, but you both have gone on many more dates and even kissed a few times. of course, you felt bad for lying to blake, but what are you supposed to do? you just can’t escape matt. you’re a moth to his flame. you’ve come so close to breaking it off with matt, but each time you fail, somehow always ending up naked in his bed.
this is one of those times. you came over to the boys’ apartment to break it off with matt, but of course, you couldn’t. instead, you’re pinned against the wall of his bedroom. “matt we can’t keep doing this.” you breathe out against his lips. “doing what?” he asks, backing away and raising one eyebrow. “hating each other in public and fucking in private. i can’t do that to blake.” you try to reason with him, but matt simply rolls his eyes. “then just end things with him. i told you he isn’t good for you.” “he’s a good guy, matt.” you reply. matt takes a step closer to you, “well, if he’s such a good guy, then why are you here? why aren’t you with him?” he asks, knowing the answer. you look down and shake your head, “i don’t know. i shouldn’t be here. i should go.” you grab your purse from the counter and swing it over your shoulder, but before you can walk towards the door, matt grabs your wrist. “wait, don’t go.” you turn towards him, “why not?” there’s a few seconds of silence before matt answers your question. “i don’t want you to.” “okay.” you concede.
about a week later, you get a text from blake, asking you to go over to his apartment. you get into your car and drive to his place. you get out and walk up to his door, knocking twice. he open the door with a smile on his face, and it fills you with guilt. he invites you in and sits you down on his couch. “so i invited you here because i wanted to ask you something.” he begins. you nod, nervous for what he’s about to say. “i wanted to know if you would be my girlfriend.” he asks hopefully. you sigh softly and look down. you can’t hold it in any longer. you can’t keep lying to the poor guy. “look, you’re an amazing guy, don’t get me wrong, but i can’t” you tell him. his smile drops instantly. “oh. can i ask why. i thought we were doing good.” “i’m just not ready to be in a serious relationship. i thought i was, but now i know i’m not.” it’s not totally a lie. you’re not ready for a relationship with someone that isn’t matt. “okay i understand.” he says sadly. “i think i should leave. i’m so sorry blake, but i know you’ll find someone as great as you are.” you smile to try and lift the mood. he just nods while staring at the ground. you stand up from his couch and walk out the door, wracked with guilt.
you get in your car and drive to the triplets’ apartment, needing to talk to matt. you have to tell him how you feel. you arrive at their apartment and place your car in park. you walk up to the door and knock. you wait for a few seconds before the door opens, revealing matt. “hi.” you break the silence. “what’s up? you need something?” he inquires. “i actually need to talk to you.” you can feel butterflies in your stomach as you rock back and forth on your feet. “ummm okay come in.” he motions for you to enter the apartment. you walk inside and matt closes the door behind you. you both stand in the living room and you set your keys and phone down on their counter. he stands there, waiting for you to speak.
“i broke up with him” you break the silence. “what? why?” matt questions, his head immediately perking up. “you were right. he wasn’t good for me.” he scoffs, “well no shit. what does that have to do with me?” “i also broke up with him because i realized something.” are you really about to do this? are you really about to confess your feelings to the boy you’ve hated for years? matt gives you a look, telling you to go on. “i know we’ve always hated each other, but since we started sleeping together, i realized that i don’t want blake. i want you, and not just in a sexual way. i want to actually be with you.” you take a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding, waiting anxiously for his response, but he says nothing. “matt? please say something.” matt looks down at the floor and shakes his head slightly. “i can’t, y/n.” he says softly. “can’t what?” you’re confused now. what the hell does that mean? “i can’t be with you.” your heart drops. “why not?” you ask. “i… i just can’t.” you’re start to become irritated at his words. “what can’t you do matt?!” “i can’t give you what you want. you want to date and do couple-y stuff and i can’t do that.” his gaze remains on the floor. “so i’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to date?” you ask condescendingly. “that’s not what i’m saying, i just-” “you just what matt?! what is so awful about being in a relationship?!” you begin to yell. “i don’t do relationships! the fact that you’re whining and screaming about it is the reason i don’t! you’re being fucking dramatic and i’m sick of it! we’re not dating and we’re never going to so just accept it and stop being so fucking clingy!” he yells back at you. your jaw drops to the floor at his words. “fuck you matthew. don’t text me again.” you walk towards the front door, making sure to bump his shoulder on the way out. you open the door and slam it shut, shaking the walls of the apartment.
hearing the commotion, chris and nick walk downstairs into the living room. “what the hell happened?” nick asks. “nothing happened. she’s just being a bitch as usual.” matt replies, rubbing his temples. “what did you say to her?” nick sighs, knowing you’d never react that way unless matt said something really fucked up. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” nick scoffs. “well too bad. if i just lost my best friend because of you then we’re gonna talk about it.” nick and chris drag matt over to the couch and sit down. matt sighs and begins to explain everything that happened between the two of you. “why would you say something like that to her?” chris asks him, disappointed in his older brother. “i told you, i’m not a relationship guy.” nick looks at him with a look of worry. “but do you like her?” matt looks at him and nods. “then tell her that you dumb fuck! you just broke her heart for no reason!” he yells in matt’s face. “look, i can’t do this right now. i’m going to bed.” matt sighs softly as he walks out of the room.
as soon as matt gets into his room, he shuts the door, lying down in his bed. his mind is racing with thoughts of you. nick was right. he should have told you that he wanted to date you too, but he was too much of a pussy to actually say it, so he hurt you instead. matt knows you’re probably still mad at him and would slam the door in his face if he went over to your house now, so he decides to wait a day or two. after contemplating it, matt walks over to nick’s room and opens the door, knowing he needs help getting you back. “how do i win her back nick?” he sits down on his brother’s bed. “look, i don’t know if she would take you back for sure, but what you need to do is give her a heartfelt apology and tell her how you feel. that’s your best bet.” matt nods, taking in everything he says. “and flowers. get her some flowers.” “i’ll go over there tomorrow.” matt states. “good because if i lose my best friend, i’ll actually kill you.” nick says with a glare.
the next day, matt woke up ready to prove to you that he wants to be your boyfriend. however, the anxiety was pooling in his stomach. what if you didn’t want him? what if you went back to blake? he tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, but they still lingered.
once he gathered the courage, he got up out of bed, throwing on a sweater and some jeans. he looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair until it looks presentable enough. matt throws on his shoes and grabbing his keys. he begins to walk towards the front door when he passes by nick on the couch. “good luck matt.” nick tells him. matt just nods and walks out the door towards his minivan.
on the way to your house, he stops by a flower stand and gets you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, hoping that it’s enough for you to forgive him. as he speeds toward your house, matt’s mind is going a million miles a minute. he’s continuously going over what he’s going to say to you in his head. his thoughts are cut off by him arriving at your apartment. matt looks at himself in the mirror once more before grabbing the flowers and stepping out of the car.
matt walked up to your front door and took a deep breath before knocking. he waited a few seconds then the door swung open, revealing you. your hair looks disheveled and your eyes puffy. “what are you doing here?” you cross your arms at the boy. “i’m sorry y/n. i’m so sorry.” he holds out the flowers for you to take. you grab them hesitantly and turn around to put them in a vase. matt follows you inside towards your kitchen. “so are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here or can you leave now?” you ask, a harsh tone in your voice. matt sighs, “you were right. i’m an asshole. i never should have said those things to you. i was just so scared.” you tilt your head to the side. “scared? of what?” “what i feel for you, what i’ve felt for you since i met you, it’s unlike anything i’ve felt before. i’ve been in love with you for years, and i was too fucking stupid to tell you. i’m sorry for everything i’ve done to you over the years. you didn’t deserve any of it.” you can see matt’s eyes start to become glossy as you step towards him. “what changed all of a sudden? last night you were dead set on not being with me, but now you do? that doesn’t make any sense matt.” you tell him, still skeptical. “nick and chris laid into me last night. they made me realize that i hurt you for no reason and that i was being selfish. i told you i didn’t want to be with you, but it was a lie. being with you is all i’ve ever wanted and when it was right in front of me i panicked. i know that i probably fucked everything up, but please, if there’s any part of you that can forgive me, please give me one more chance. let me prove to you that i can be the man you deserve.” you take a deep breath, tears beginning to invade your waterline. you want to tell him off so bad. you want to tell him that you would never take him back, but you can’t. before you can overthink it, you take a few steps towards matt and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. “do you really mean it?” you ask him softly. “i mean it baby. i promise i’ll never hurt you again.” he pulls away and looks down at you with a small smile on his face. you reciprocate the smile as he begins to lean down. your lips brush against each other before he presses his lips against yours. the kiss isn’t like any other kiss you’ve shared before; it’s soft and sweet instead of hard and rough. you both break away and rest your forehead on his. “you’re so beautiful, y’know that?” you feel your face heat up and a smile forming on your face. “shut up.” you tell him before reaching up and kissing him once more.
#Spotify#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo x you#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo fluff#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets
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oh, the eldritch horror! — scar
summary. venturing out in the woods to clear your head was supposed to be relaxing, so why is this twisted abominable nightmare of a beast growling in your face?
notes. i rewatched shrek because i was bored and i snatched the donkey & dragon scene right out of it. but like, instead of a dragon, it’s literally baphomet. does this count as monsterfucking bc idkkk… anyway yeah it’s like scar but his goat form. i thought it would be funny. this is just painfully self indulgent.
idk wtf is going on in wuwa but my brain shut down when this loser came on screen and started ranting about shepherds and sheep. whatever you say beautiful.
warnings. scar, very minimal crack (it’s inspired by shrek. idk what to say bro…)
This has to be the worst day of your life.
The creature snaps its drooling jaw in your face.
It looks like a goat from Hell. Like a black sheep that’s wandered from its herd. You can’t see much of its face, but the ginormous pair of curled horns are sharp at the edges. The cartilage could easily slit your throat in half if you were to make one wrong move and lean in too close.
Four yellow beady eyes glare at you, way too close to your face. You can see your warped reflection along rectangular pupils. Giant ears peeled back towards its skull, pierced with two matching golden earrings in the shape of crosses that are the size of your hands.
You laugh nervously in its face.
Oh, god, it’s going to eat you alive. You know it.
You try to take a step back, but you’re met with the roots of a tree at your feet and the trunk digging harshly into your back.
Bad idea. Oh, this was all a bad idea. The bad luck streak should’ve been an indicator right from this morning: you slept through your alarm and were subsequently late for work, you fell over twice at work, you lost your house keys, and then you decided to clear your head and go for a walk.
You ended up venturing off deeper into the trees to search for herbs to help back at the clinic in Jinzhou. You don’t even know which direction the city is anymore.
And now, there’s a creature—and it can’t be a Tacet Discord—growling and snapping its teeth in your face. It’s huge. It’s way too big to be absorbed, let alone actually taken down with brute force. Whacking it with a stick certainly didn’t help.
All that did was manage to slash a decent gash into one of its hind legs and anger it even further.
It snarls at you.
A bead of sweat rolls down your temple.
Uh oh.
“Oh, what large teeth you have!” Your voice comes out shaky, and you’re trembling as you stare up at it.
A low guttural noise escapes from the depths of its throat, and its jaw unhinges.
Your eyes pinch shut. “I-I mean, white, sparkling, teeth!” You let out a nervous huff of laughter, your words almost incoherent. “I know you probably hear this all the time from your food, but, you must take really good care of those pearly whites, ‘cause that is one dazzling smile you’ve got there!”
The creature’s slitted eyes narrow in suspicion. Its jaw snaps closed as it pulls only a few inches away from your burning skin.
You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your hands.
You clear your throat. “I’m so grateful that your beautiful smile will be the last thing I ever see. Y’know… when you eat me… ‘cause I’m sure you must be hungry!” You prattle on and on, and your knees are weak and wobbly. “Not that you have to eat me. I’d prefer if you didn’t, but– yeah! So grateful!”
You were praying to whatever Gods could hear you that your mindless babbling saved your life. Or some superhero came through and took this thing down in one swing.
The giant creature seems to preen at your words. Its sharp teeth retreat behind a now closed mouth. Its horn suddenly don’t appear as sharp as they were before, and the curl of them against the creature’s skull look softer and more defined. They were different to the ghastly sharp edges you saw before.
Your legs can’t keep still. Your hands interlock in front of you to try and quell the shaking. Your bones feel like they’re vibrating beneath your skin.
You try to control your breathing. “Beautiful hair–fur, by the way.” You raise a finger to point at the greyish locks behind its horns. For such a mangy beast, its hair looked a bit silky. Maybe unwashed, and it was full of twigs, but slightly soft. “And I smell a hint of berry…” Lie. “…Did you… wash it?”
Stupid question.
You try to control your breathing.
Maybe the beast isn’t a beast. Maybe it’s a nice creature cursed with being ugly.
The creature is still eyeing you.
Can it understand you? Or is it trying to survey whether you’re a threat or not? You can’t tell. You heard somewhere that dogs don't like when people look them in the eyes. You didn’t even know if that was true.
The correlation is stupid, regardless. This beast is far from even remotely resembling the canis genus.
Its head is huge, even when its jaw is shut. Its nostrils are the size of your hand, and it breathes puffs of hot air in your face. You reel back further into the tree. Your stomach drops impossibly lower than it already has. Your skin is soaked in sweat.
The creature bumps its nose against your sternum and inhales sharply.
You glance to the left.
Is it… smelling you? Is it trying to figure out if you’re edible? Oh, Gods, then you’re embarrassing stalling would have been for nothing. What a day. As if it couldn’t get any worse than it already had been.
You can't outrun it. It’s huge. By the time you’ve sprinted ten feet away it can simply lean over and pluck you by the back of your collar and pop you into its mouth.
Your insides churn at the thought. You were afraid you’d hunch over and vomit out of fear on the creature’s face.
Bad plan? Maybe then it wouldn’t eat you, at least. Or maybe it would. You were afraid to take the chances, and swallow the bile rising up your throat.
Its oddly bent arms smash into the dirt on either side of you. A low garble echoes in its throat and bubbles with saliva.
It sounds like a croak of sorts.
The lamb creature bumps its sharp snout into your stomach. Those beady eyes blink—you notice it has vertical eyelids. Gross. It’s like a giant lizard, almost.
Its teeth are gone for the moment, though, so it offers you a moment of reprieve. Or maybe it’s trying to calm you down so your blood tastes sweeter, or something. Sweat continues to roll down your neck, and you swallow the giant lump in your throat.
The red sashes of the torn clothes on its back pull with its form, ripping at the seams even more.
Your eyes flit nervously to the wound on its leg. It’s a small smear of crimson against grey fur, barely noticeable, and you’re sure the creature can’t even feel the sudden pain from it anymore. It seems to be walking fine, and it does not exhibit any discomfort when it shifts its weight to each hoof.
You wince when you spot the gnarly gash you left on it.
The lump in your throat doesn’t dislodge.
You try to ignore it.
The creature’s long neck pulls into view again. It’s watching you silently.
You figure if it wanted to eat you, it would have done so already. Hopefully you seemed inedible to it. Maybe it was an omnivore or something—but those sharp teeth were definitely not just for chewing on leaves and berries in the wild.
Morphed fingers dig deeper into the dirt beside your feet.
You stare into its eyes.
Its still eyeing you.
Huh.
It’s… curious. It blinks slowly, one eye at a time, as you slowly, and so slowly, slower than you’ve ever moved in your life, raise your hands.
Then, you navigate around its giant leg beside you and step towards the gash on its hind leg. Your foot tramples onto a twig and it snaps loudly. The creature watches you with lidded eyes, but there’s a flash of teeth in warning. You gulp.
You kneel before its wounded leg and pull your satchel from around your waist.
The creature does nothing. Its teeth disappear behind its mouth again.
“Sorry,” you whisper with a wince. You hope it can understand you’re not a threat. Maybe it’s scared of you. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A giant predator, some eldritch abomination in the middle of the woods, scared of a little flesh bag. “Um… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared, y’see?”
You had meant to hurt it, but you’d spit little white lies if they saved your life.
The creature blinks creepily again. That uneven slow blink, like a frog.
You’re more disturbed than anything. You’re amazed that ginormous tongue locked behind its teeth hasn’t come forth to lick its sclera wet yet. Then you’d be more convinced.
You try not to let it show. “But, um…” You dig around in your satchel before you pull out a small glass vial. “I have something that might help.” The vial is made of a crystal glass with a cork in the rim. The liquid inside is a deep blue, like the blueberries growing on the nearby bushes, or like thick ink.
The creature lowers its great head down towards the bottle.
It stares at your hands expectantly before trying to sniff around the glass.
Hesitantly, you remove the cork and hold the rim closer to one of its nostrils. It most certainly doesn't smell good; it’s made up of a mixture of herbs and alcohol, but you know for a fact it does a damn good job at shielding wounds from infection. It was fool-proof medicine; you made it. And you don’t settle for less than perfection.
The creature seems displeased with the scent for it seems to flinch away from the rim. It does not swat the medicine, but it turns its head away.
It looks grumpy.
“It might help the bleeding.” It will help the bleeding. You know it will. It will heal the entire wound. But, you didn’t come here to gloat, so you keep your lips zipped shut. “It’ll sting, though.”
The creature makes a noise. It does not sound like a warning, nor an acceptance of your words. It’s simply an acknowledgement, like a toneless hum, but you also don’t speak eldritch lamb, so you could be far from the truth. For all you knew, it was hyping itself up to open its mouth around your head or take off into the trees.
Alas, it does neither of those things.
It sits back on its hind legs despite its wound and then falls into the grass.
Its eyes shut and it stills.
You blink in wonder.
Did it… die?
Nope. It’s still breathing. Its nostrils flare with every breath. There’s a giant pitiful feeling of disappointment, but at the same time, a smaller pang of relief in your stomach.
Your hand reaches out to touch the tender and raw skin around its wound.
The creature remains still. Maybe it’s sleeping. It did chase you around the forest for a good long while.
You hum. It’s like a giant dog, you think. Like a scary, huge, dog.
You take loose cloth from your satchel and dab the medicine generously into the cotton until it soaks it thoroughly. You don’t have anything to properly clean the wound with, but it will have to do. You do have a wrap of bandages, though, and it’s better than nothing.
Gingerly, you press the soaked cloth to the tip of the wound.
The creature blinks its eyes open and snarls.
You try again in the spot next to it, gently pulling any flecks of dirt you see from the gash.
It hisses then, low and horrible, and you flinch away. It watches you cautiously, hind leg pulled towards itself protectively.
“I just need to clean it,” you say desperately. You know there’s a pleaful gleam in your eyes.
The beast tilts its great head towards you before it snorts and rests down on the grass again.
When you press the cloth back to its wound, it makes a noise, but it does flinch.
So, you work gently. Slowly, like you’re treading through thick murky waters. It feels that way. The creature puffs annoyed noises through its nose, but you dutifully ignore it, watching the shimmer of the medicine in the evening sunlight to make sure it was spread evenly over the gash.
When you’re satisfied, you take its giant hoof in your lap and wrap the bandages around its leg. The size of its calf takes up almost all of the roll, but you make it work, tucking the ends into the wrap. The creature does not deter away from the treatment.
You hope it isn’t too tight.
It’ll give the beast another good reason to close its jaw around your head.
The creature blinks its gross eyes open again, those rectangular pupils drawing thinner. It’s surveying the bandaging like it’s foreign; it probably is, given the creature has probably never received treatment in its life. You notice the ghastly scars drawn over its face.
Still, you’re frightened. The noises that pour from its throat are guttural and flagrant. It’s still huge, even as it lays in the grass. When it raises its head, it’s still taller than you.
You feel a drop of sweat slip down your spine.
It probably hasn’t eaten you because you smell unappetising. You’re thankful, internally.
You stay knelt in the grass, dirt staining your pants as you watch the creature warily.
Then, it coos. It’s snout bumps into your stomach and it coos. You flinch away from the noise, hands raised near your head defensively. Why is it cooing? Does it like you? That’s better than hating you, at least. The creature huffs and puffs against your stomach, and washes of hot air waver over your sweaty face.
You shakily rest a palm on the top of its snout, mindful of the deep scars.
The creature only stares blankly.
Huh. “You’re not so bad.” You swallow nervously. “You’re sort of like a giant puppy.”
The creature lets off a low garble. It sounds innocent, like a passing noise of pleasantries. Like it’s enjoying your attention.
Your hand smooths over the strange fur. It’s coarse between your fingers, withered with age and scars, but it still somehow retains a slight softness. It’s nice. It smells suspiciously like livestock, but that’s better than smelling of blood and sinew.
The creature drowns in the feeling of your hand against its head. The gold earrings are cold against your skin.
Then, it reels back.
You almost jump when its mouth moves towards your face before a long and slimy tongue drags up your cheek. You almost gag as saliva drips from your skin, but you try not to let it show. You shiver instead, mostly out of disgust.
The creature seems pleased though.
You’re glad to be of service. And to still be alive.
Nice puppy.
You try to ignore the slime stuck to your skin as you thumb over the creature’s horns. They’re enormous, much larger than the width of your arm, but the cartilage is so delicate, and you notice chips in the black curls.
It bumps its nose into your sternum and makes a noise.
When you say nothing, it makes the same noise, but it’s drawn out and higher, more irritated. Petrified, you stumble back slightly. You have a clear shot of running now. There’s no trees trapping you with this thing. You could try and make a beeline towards where you think Jinzhou is.
The creature stares expectantly. There’s a slow kiss of a blink, and hot puffs of air fan over your face and send jitters down your spine.
“I don’t– um…” You try to settle your trembling. “I’m not understanding–”
The great creature lets out a frustrated huff, and lowers its head towards you. You think not to place your sweaty palm on its snout for pets again. It doesn’t seem to warrant them at that moment, either.
It’s getting dark now, and you’re growing nervous again. Does it grow violent in the night? Is it warning you? Oh, God, maybe it’s going to pounce.
A cloying scent fills your nose. Your eyes refocus from the tears that melt along your bottom lashes.
You watch, mortified, as the creature warps.
Those giant hooves shrink in size, followed by an engorging shadow of smoke and red dust like sand. It burns your eyes and floods your lungs wrong, and you cough, fanning your face desperately. It stinks. It smells like metals and burnt soil. This mustn’t be good for your health, inhaling all this stuff.
The creature horns curl smaller until they disappear. You can’t see much of it, but what you can see is almost disturbing. It looks painful. The silhouette of the great beast continues to shrink, and those beautiful tresses of white and grey hair curl along what can be assumed to be a more normal looking face.
Its silhouette vaguely resembles a human, but there’s much too little to see you’re not quite sure. Black ripples down those long arms and pulls away the fur covering them.
There’s the snapping and straightening of bones. You almost puke at the sound. You force yourself to look away. Sweat pools in your throat like an oasis.
When you find the courage to glance back, the shadows then peel away from the inky red fog and dust.
You gulp.
It’s a man.
It’s the beast, and you know it is because the scars on the creature’s head match the lines and pulls of his skin. He’s devoid of fur now, and his hair is dramatically shorter, small curls imitating those giant black horns twisting around the now fleshy lobes of his ears and his neck.
His clothes are the same. Ruined and tattered, but still that red coat. His shirt is caked in dirt and his pants are torn where the gash is. It’s still covered by the rolls of bandages.
He is on his hands and knees in the grass. He looks exhausted, like he’s trying to recover from the most painful transformation you’ve ever witnessed in your life.
“Um…” It’s the only thing that can seem to form coherently from your mouth.
A grin cracks onto the man’s face. “Hi.”
You nod slowly in a greeting.
Your spine snaps rod straight in fright.
The man stands to his feet slowly. His bones crack and continue snapping as he moves, and he lets off an annoyed sigh before he stretches and pulls knots from his joints.
Then, he suddenly looks alive. “That’s better. God, have you ever been trapped in your own body?” You briskly shake your head, to which he scoffs playfully and continues, “‘course you haven’t! Silly me.”
“Are you–” You feel stupid for asking, but there’s something forcing you to say it. “Are you a Tacet Discord?”
The man’s face morphs to answer your question. “Do I look like a Tacet Discord?”
Well. He did. About five minutes ago. It takes effort not to respond with irked quips, eyes flitting towards your satchel that’s still resting by his feet where you had left it.
He notices you staring at it and kneels down to pick it up. The thin strap you swing around your body is pulled over one of his fingers like the bag is a foreign object entirely.
You figure he might try and rummage inside. He won’t find much if he plans to rob you.
Instead, his eyes narrow playfully at you. “You are so interesting.” He grips the strap of your bag tight and takes one calculative step forward. “Usually, humans bore me. They’re all cut from the same meat platter, after all.
“But, you…” A pleased, airy little giggle escapes his throat. “Oh, I like you.”
Oh, this is very bad.
That smile on his face says it all.
Very, very bad.
You sucked up way too much to the beast.
You’re in for it now.
You laugh awkwardly in return. You’re not flattered in the slightest.
You hoped the world ended at that very moment. That would fix the problem.
You clear your throat quickly. “I appreciate you not eating me, sir. Really, I do! But I need to get going now. It’s getting dark, y’see, and… and it’s not safe for me to be walking around in the dark…” You’re stalling again. It worked the first time. You hope it works here again.
That doesn’t appear to be the case.
The man watches you closely.
“C-could I have my bag back?” You curse yourself for letting the waver in your voice slip. It sounds hopeless.
As expected, he only snorts. “Nope.” He swings it over his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”
You really need your stuff.
Your feet remain planted into the floor.
He’s scary. His smile isn’t normal. The scars pulling around his eyes make it so much worse, too.
His head tilts curiously to the side. He’s walking right towards you now. His eyes rapidly move from your face down to your legs, surveying every inch of you he could.
You want to fall through the floor and disappear.
“What’s your name, little lamb?”
Your heart spikes in your chest. He’ll follow you right back to the city, you know it. You can see it in his eyes, and his expression—where’s that stick to swat him off? Your eyes frantically search the ground as you move for some sort of branch to stave him off.
Your hands raise in front of you to keep him away, but of course your little frail body isn’t going to deter him in the slightest.
If anything, he only coos again.
You tell him your name reluctantly when your foot stumbles over a stray root. You don’t topple over. You can’t imagine what would happen to you if you had to start crawling away from him.
He repeats it once.
Then, his grin softens. “I like it.” It looks relatively normal now, like he’s not about to dig his teeth into your flesh. They’ve straightened up from how sharp they were prior, but you’re sure those canines could do enough damage. “I like you. You’re so nice. So small. So silly.”
You swallow hard.
He says nothing else.
Your brows knit together in worry. “What’s your name?”
His eyes flit down to himself as if he’s wracking his brain to remember. Then, he says, “Scar.”
Underwhelming. It’s like calling a kitten ‘Cat.’ You don’t voice your disappointment. At least his name is simple, and easy to remember.
Your eyes swarm to his bandaged leg.
He’s not even limping. The gash seems like nothing but a fleeting thought.
The man, Scar, hums thoughtfully, a nail pointed onto his cheek. “It’s not everyday you find a little white lamb away from its flock. It would be unwise to give you up to the other creatures in the forest.”
You swallow whatever courage you have left in your bones. “I don’t need protection, but thank you.”
He can keep your satchel. You are out of here.
You turn away from him this time and continue walking forward.
“Oh, but didn’t you just say it’s not safe for you to be out here in the dark?” His words taper off into a chuckle. His smile twists into something grotesque again. His arms are pulled open into some sort of mocking await of an embrace. “Come, little one. I promise I am gentle.”
You don’t believe him.
You’re sweating again. Hot ash clings into your lungs. You stifle the urge to choke on your spit in fear.
Your head turns back to watch him, suddenly alarmed. Gooseflesh raises on your arms.
Stupid.
Your foot catches onto a thick protruding root in the dirt again, but this time you do stumble to the floor. Your head smashes against the ground but you can’t pay it too much mind. You’re panicked, and ice rushes through your veins like blood.
You push yourself up instantly, but he’s quicker, and a foot stamps down onto your calf. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it’s firm enough to keep you there.
His knees hit the dirt on either side of your legs and you’re cornered. You try to sit up to the best of your ability, but he tuts as if he’s reprimanding a child. “Now, now. You’ve hit your head. You could be seriously hurt, y’know?”
“‘M fine!” You push on his chest when he leans down far too close to inspect you. “Get off!”
There’s no physical damage except for a small welt. You feel dizzy, but that’s to be expected.
There’s something alight in his eyes.
Excitement.
This is a game to him.
Scar lets you sit up, though he’s still very much straddling your lap.
That same wobbly grin pulls onto his lips.
Oh, gross. You should never have treated his wounds. Now he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. You’ve caused some great beast to grow delusional because you wanted to be nice.
You’re never stopping to help lonely animals in the forest ever again.
You swear you see hearts bubble and pop from his head when he blinks at you. He hums a small giggle before his arms wrap around your neck and draw his chest into yours.
He squeezes you tight and you buzz with the excitement that radiates off his skin in heat waves. More and more hearts float from his head, and you’re sure his pupils are a shape to match.
“I want to keep you.”
He squishes his cheek against yours.
“Uh…” What the hell else do you say? Especially to this thing that’s swamped over you like a giant teddy bear. You can’t even breathe.
“So small. Are humans usually this tiny? And you’re so warm–”
You claw at his arms. His grip loosens over your neck.
He doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. Instead, he looks intrigued and experimentally squeezes around your throat again. “Oh. I always forget just how fragile humans are.”
You sigh in defeat.
Oh, boy.
This is going to be a long night.
#wuthering waves x reader#wuwa x reader#wuwa scar#wuthering waves scar#wuwa scar x reader#scar x reader#✦ ( the macrocosmos. )
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Prove it: Seungmin x Reader
Kim Seungmin, your best friend, is so fucking smug all the time. You make the mistake of implying that no man can finger a girl the way they do in porn, and you make the mistake of challenging him when he tells you he can.
Content: Smut
Warnings: Fingering, slightly mean Seungmin, degradation
WC: 1700
“Porn isn’t real.”
Seungmin blinked at you from where he sat on the other end of the couch, unamused. The TV was playing something in the background, but neither of you had been paying attention for quite some time.
“Obviously. Everyone knows that,” he says, annoyed. “Care to share why you’re bringing this up now?”
You turn your phone around to show him the video you were watching–some girl getting fingered and enjoying it a bit too much, moans increasingly loud as she squirts and creams all over the guy’s fingers.
“Dude, are you seriously watching porn right now?” He laughs at you, incredulous. “Watch the fucking TV at least.”
“You’re not watching the TV,” you point out to him. Your friend has been lazily scrolling on his phone for at least 30 minutes.
“Yeah, but I’m not watching porn while I’m supposed to be hanging out with my best friend.”
“Fine, fine!” you say, throwing your hands up in surrender. The conversation goes quiet and you ignore the blush that crawls up your face at your friend’s words.
“What part of that wasn’t real though?” He asks, finally breaking the silence.
“No girl gets fingered like that and it actually feels that good,” you say. “She was obviously faking it.”
Seungmin doesn’t look up from his phone. “Maybe you’ve been hanging out with the wrong guys.”
You scoff. “Like you would know, Kim Seungmin. I doubt you’ve ever even fingered a woman before, let alone made one squirt.”
He finally looks up from his phone, lifting a brow. “Are you implying I don’t get any?”
“Not implying,” you say. “Just stating the obvious.”
You and your friend have been known to tease one another relentlessly so this was nothing new. The absolutely neutral expression on Seungmin’s face, however, threw you for a loop. You find yourself backtracking, talking again way too fast and digging yourself into a deeper hole.
“He was moving his hand way too fast!” you say. “It didn’t even look like he was even touching her clit. Yet there she was, seemingly cumming all over his hand! It just doesn’t seem real, you know?”
“There are other erogenous zones other than the clit,” he says. He’s staring at you now. “I’m telling you, if no guy has ever made you feel that good from fingering, they’re doing it wrong.”
“And you would do it right?” you challenge. You’re trying to fluster him–he’s simply way too calm for this conversation, and you hate being the only one who’s heart is beating way too fast.
“I would.” He says it like it’s a fact. It pisses you off, how sure of himself he is. Seungmin, your best friend, who is seemingly nerdy and shy and quiet, who is now looking at you with all of the confidence in the world. Arousal pooled in your stomach as you thought about one fact you knew about your friend: He never took on a challenge he knew he couldn’t win.
It has always been evident in the way he engages with his own friends. They would make bets with one another, each one more ridiculous than the next, and Seungmin would egg them on and only participate if he was sure he could do it. He would always be nonchalant about it. “I could beat you,” he would say, and they would always take the bait. As if he weren’t even trying, he would always win. That infuriating piece of knowledge, the idea of finally being able to prove him wrong is what motivates you to say what you do:
“Prove it.”
He lets out a small chuckle. “If you’re trying to proposition me, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
“What?” you stutter. Once again he’s managed to get the upper-hand, noticing how embarrassed you get at his words.
“You want me to finger you that bad? You’re going to have to ask me nicely.”
You start to backtrack. “Who said I was–”
“So you don’t want me to finger your pretty little cunt until you cum all over my hands? Hmm? You don’t want to squirt all over my fingers?” He says it as simply as he would if he were talking about the weather.
You want to deny him now. You want to brush it off, tell him to fuck off, and go back to doom-scrolling and pretending to watch TV. But you don’t.
“Hmm?” He asks again, taunting you.
“I do,” you reply finally.
“Then ask nicely,” he tells you. He moves closer to you on the couch, phone still in his hand. You want to pick it up and throw it across the living room. Maybe that would get a reaction out of him.
You glance down on his phone, looking to see what he has been looking at that has got him so preoccupied and uninterested up until now. You’re surprised to see nothing but his home screen. Bingo. There was nothing all along.
“Please,” you say, smiling sweetly at him.
“Please what?” Now he was getting on your nerves.
“For fuck’s sake, Seungmin! Please finger me! Please, please make me cum all over your fingers!” You cry out, exasperated. Your words are sarcastic but you get the reaction you wanted from him nonetheless; he reaches over you and grabs the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down with your panties in one swift motion. You’re left completely bare for him.
This has now crossed over into uncharted territory. Instinctually, you close your legs. Are you really ready to show yourself completely to Seungmin just to prove a point? Just to show he’s wrong and that his cockiness in his ability to finger a girl is all for show?
“Nope,” he chides. “You wanted it so bad, you don’t get to hide from me.” His hand on your knee sends electric sparks up your body.
Yes. Yes, you were.
You spread your legs open wide for him, watching his face. He was seemingly unaffected by your actions, the ghost of a grin on his face. He makes a show of reaching over your body, ignoring your core completely to push two fingers past your lips. Your brows shoot up in surprise and he lets out a small breath that’s reminiscent of a laugh.
“Suck.” You do. You let your tongue swirl around the digits in your mouth, getting them nice and wet for him. You do so almost obscenely, moaning slightly at the taste of his fingers and letting spit fall down your chin. He responds by shoving them further into your mouth, pumping them in and out and eventually far down enough that you gag all over them. Your reactions are no longer for show now; he’s already managed to shut you up.
When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, it’s with a string of saliva. He reaches in between your legs and finally makes contact with your folds. His touches are featherlight, teasing. He’s watching the way your chest rises and falls, your labored breathing, the way you want to close your thighs again not to hide, but to finally relieve the pressure between your legs and he smirks.
When his wet fingers dip into your hole you can hear them because you’re already soaking wet. He shallowly thrusts his fingers in and out, gathering your wetness and bringing it up to spread it across your folders. He taps your clit with his fingers, gentle and not with the intention that you need.
“Seungmin, if you don’t stop teasing me I swear to God–”
And he shushes you. When you go to protest once again, his fingers finally meet your clit. He rubs circles around it, rhythmic and systemic in his ministrations. He’s working you up, slow and steady until you’re completely putty in his hands. He switches between stimulating your clit and fucking his fingers up into your entrance, occasionally curling them and hitting that spongey spot that has you holding your breath.
When your eyes meet his, the look he gives you is devious.
He leans forward, spitting directly on your soaked pussy. You gasp.
“Is this all you needed? Wanted to get on my last nerve so fucking bad, didn’t you baby? Did you just need my fingers to shut you up?”
You whine at his words. When his fingers dive into your entrance again the pace he sets is brutal, thrusting into you fast and hard. The palm of his hand hits your clit every time his fingers bully into you.
“Seung–too much,” you say.
“Shhhh,” he tells you again. “You wanted it so fucking bad, baby. You can take it.” Your hips buck up to meet his hands and you start to pulse around him–he can tell you’re getting close. His fingers leave your entrance and attack your clit, soaking wet as he rubs furiously but with precision. It’s that motion that has you cumming so hard you’re seeing stars, possibly harder than you ever have in your entire life. The noises that come out of your mouth are not your own, they can’t be. You can’t give him that satisfaction–but you already have.
When you come down from your high you’re glaring at him. He removes his fingers from your center and looks at you, smug, as he slips them into his mouth with a grin.
He turns his head and scoots back down to the other end of the couch, smiling to himself as he scrolls on his phone once again. You look at him, still trying to catch your breath.
“Yes?” He says to you. You must have been staring for a beat too long.
“You didn’t make me squirt,” you point out. It’s a baseless accusation, a way to try to salvage your bruised ego since you both know he’s already won.
He simply points down to his shirt which has been soaked from your orgasm; you didn’t even notice. “Told you,” he says.
“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes. You pull your pants up and cross your arms, watching the TV and pretending not to care.
“I bet that I can make you squirt all over my cock,” he says with a smile. He doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks.
You already know what you’re doing when you meet his eyes and say, “Prove it.”
***
A/N: Seungmin has been bias-wrecking me a little too hard as of late. This man is too fine.
Masterlist
#skz#skz smut#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#kpop smut#kpop x reader#seungmin x reader#seungmin#kim seungmin x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids ff#kpop fanfic#kim seungmin
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Hi I saw the Tsum request you made and it was super cute! I was wondering if you could do the same one but with Idia/Jack/Vil/Leona please?
Idia Shroud:
You had never been more surprised than seeing the shaking tsum outside your door, its intrusion into your room immediate when you opened the door wide enough for its body to hop inside. It made itself comfortable under a desk in the corner, wanting an enclosed area where it would feel safe; you pouted a little as you had hoped to cuddle, but just like Idia, you knew it’d take a little work. You pulled up a video on your phone, music from a game that Idia loved, and you’d never seen something so small move so quickly. It hopped right onto the bed with you, settled and cuddling on your shoulder as it danced along to the song happily with you. Idia wanted to lock himself in a closet, and maybe lock the tsum in a separate one, and never have to think about being upstaged again.
Jack Howl:
You have to admit you’re surprised when Jack’s tsum doesn’t play its cards close to its chest; Jack did it poorly but there was still an attempt, yet the tsum lit up as soon as it saw you. It protectively took a seat on your shoulder and only separated with Jack’s insistence, which is why when it goes missing he knows exactly where it is. Seeing you cuddle starts a staring contest that has you sweating, as if Jack tsum is daring Jack to take him away from his happy place. You settle them both down with pats on the head, saying to relax and offering to go wherever Jack needed to be so you could spend more time with the tsum.
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona is actively trying to not be annoyed but keeping the irritation off his face was a challenge the second prince simply couldn’t overcome. His glare is briefly directed at the tsum who might seem expressionless at first, but he could tell it was celebrating inside for getting under his skin. Your lap had always been Leona’s napping spot, soft thighs working as perfect pillows, and it seemed the tsum had the same idea. He supposed he should’ve seen this outcome approaching since the tsum seemed to mirror him in many aspects but this was one betrayal that Leona hadn’t seen coming, from you or the tsum. He’s rarely this petty towards you so you can’t help but tease him when the opportunity approached, asking if he was really getting territorial because you wanted to cuddle with a tsum that greatly resembled him.
Vil Schoenheit:
You are the honored one, blessed to hold Vil tsum in your loving arms. Your immediate affection for the tsum was felt and reciprocated, allowing you to admire them up close and personal. It felt like good fortune shining down on you when the tsum took it upon itself to sit comfortably in your arms, allowing you to snuggle closer without complaint. Vil is annoyed that the tsum didn’t attempt to play hard to get at all. He had to bite his tongue to not reveal too much about your own relationship, though he feels some envy as it must be nice to just be held by you like that.
#Twisted Wonderland#TWST#Twisted Wonderland Imagines#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#TWST Imagines#TWST x Reader#Idia Shroud#Jack Howl#Leona Kingscholar#Vil Schoenheit#Idia Shroud x Reader#Jack Howl x Reader#Leona Kingscholar x Reader#Vil Schoenheit x Reader
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