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vanteguccir · 1 month

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You Make Loving Fun | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.

Warning: Mentions of blood and pain.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N has always been known for her serious expression and sarcastic humor. She had a cynical view of the world and seemed to find fault with almost everything around her. On the other hand, Matt was the complete opposite. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, brightening up any room with his contagious positivity. It was as if he was determined to find the good in everything, no matter how dark it was.

The two were in the same class together at Boston high school, part of the same group of friends, which meant they did a lot of group work together, and it was precisely there where their contrasting personalities often collided. Y/N was meticulous and perfectionist in her work, while Matt preferred to approach topics with a more relaxed and laid-back attitude. This often put them at odds, but it also created an interesting dynamic.

One afternoon, during a school work meeting at the triplets' house, Y/N was particularly grumpy. She had faced a series of setbacks in her home and was on the verge of exploding. Matt, as always, tried to cheer her up with his light humor and unwavering optimism.

"You should relax a little." Matt murmured with a smile as his right hand worked quickly with his computer mouse, putting together the perfect slide for the presentation that would take place the next day, using Nick and Alahna's notes and research. "Not everything has to be so serious all the time."

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the edge of Matt's bed, pushing the notebook that rested on her thighs roughly, feeling frustrated with his persistent attempt to lift her spirits. She knew he was just trying to help, but at that moment, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

However, something inside her changed when she lifted her gaze to Matt's smiling face, who was still holding the mouse as he watched her from the corner of his eye. In that moment, the girl saw beyond the surface, beyond the facade of constant happiness. She saw the genuine kindness in his eyes, the compassion in his smile. And for the first time, something inside her crumbled, breaking the wall that had held firm for so many years.

A small smile began to form on Y/N's lips, almost imperceptible, but still present. It was a smile that lit up her entire face in a way never seen before and made her eyes shine with an inner light that had long been dormant.

Matt was surprised to see Y/N smiling, abandoning his task instantly and turning his face completely towards her, trying to make sure he was actually seeing that. It was as if he had witnessed something sacred, something few were lucky enough to see - maybe only him. The brunette was speechless, simply admiring the sight before him.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look of shock on Matt's face, her smile fading almost automatically, giving way to her usual frown.

"It's just…" Matt began, struggling to find the right words. "It's the first time I've seen you actually smiling. And it's so pretty."

Y/N felt shy by the compliment but also inexplicably happy. She had never realized how her smile could affect someone so deeply, especially someone like Matt, who radiated joy wherever he went.

"You should smile more-"

"Shut up."

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The night was calm when Matt returned from his hockey practice, but the mood inside the triplets' house was far from peaceful. He walked through his bedroom door with his shoulders hunched and his face pale, showing the anguish that consumed him inside and out.

Y/N, who was sitting on his bed reading a book while she waited for him - a habit created between them, and which his parents and brothers adored - looked up when hearing the door open. Upon seeing Matt, she immediately noticed something was wrong. Her heart sank while witnessing the boy's low stance.

"Matt? Hey, what happened?" She asked, setting the book aside and quickly standing up from her previous seat, walking towards him with a frown decorating her face.

Matt didn't respond right away. Instead, he broke down when his ears finally heard the voice he had waited for so many hours, tears flowing freely down his face. He was shaking, struggling to control his emotions as the weight of his feelings enveloped him like a dense fog.

"Hey pretty boy, breathe." Y/N ordered, pulling him into an awkward but loving hug. "It's okay. Just breathe."

Matt sniffed, trying to regain control of himself. He took a few deep breaths, following her instructions, before finally finding the voice to speak.

"It was at hockey practice." The brunette began, his voice wavering with crying and raw emotions. "One of the guys on the team... he said some horrible things to me about my performance, and I-" A sob interrupted his speech, his blue eyes closing tightly in an attempt to hold in the ugly sounds.

Y/N slowly pulled away, snaking her right hand from his bicep to his head, cupping his cheek gently, looking at his face for the first time that afternoon, her movements stopping suddenly.

The girl felt a wave of anger bubbling up inside her as she saw her boyfriend's face swollen and stained with blood in strategic spots, clearly having been punched by someone else. She clenched her left fist tightly, causing her fingers to take in a pale hue, her eyes flashing with contained fury as her chest tightened with the anguish she felt emanating from Matt's body.

"Who was it?" Y/N's firm and determined voice echoed through the room like thunder as her right hand gently turned his face from side to side, her hard eyes running over his injured skin. "Who said those things to you? No, even better. Who did this to you? I'll finish him off, I swear."

Matt's eyes widened instantly, surprised by her reaction. He knew Y/N could be tough when needed - all the time - but seeing her so determined to protect him left him speechless.

His cheeks took on a reddish hue, disguised by the blood and redness caused by crying, his lips pressed together in an attempt to contain a smile while his heart accelerated involuntarily, a small wince escaping his throat with the movement of his mouth.

"I'm fine, baby-"

"You're not, and after I'm done with whoever did this to you, he won't be fine either." Y/N interrupted him rudely, raising her eyebrows in an act of confrontation, as if she was confronting him to continue the lie.

"It's okay, sunshine. Just let it go. Please?" Matt's warm tongue escaped his lips, wetting them, while his blue eyes seemed to beg her to forget about the guy and focus on himself.

"Alright." The girl let out a loud, angry sigh, rolling her eyes as she stroked his blood-stained cheek gently. "Come on, let's take care of this."

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The restaurant was busy that night, with lively conversation and laughter echoing off the walls. Y/N was sitting at a table next to Matt and his brothers, trying to enjoy the meal despite the crowd around them. However, her already dark mood was about to deepen even further.

As Y/N cut into her steak with an air of concentration, she noticed a man at the next table out of the corner of her eyes. He looked arrogant, a smug smile playing on his lips as he said horrible things about a girl to his table-mates. But it was when he looked in Y/N's direction that she felt a chill run down her spine.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Y/N felt a wave of discomfort spread through her. She couldn't explain why, but something about that guy made her nervous, his arrogant and sexist comments causing her body to scream, almost begging for her to do something.

Matt noticed the subtle change in Y/N's expression and followed her gaze to the next table, running his blue eyes over the unknown man's figure. He frowned, confused by the sudden intensity of Y/N's gaze, practically feeling her fury emanating from her body.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Matt asked in an almost imperceptible whisper, leaning towards her and bringing his mouth closer to her ear, keeping his eyes on the table next to them. "Why don't we like him?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by Matt's direct question. She turned her head towards him slowly, frowning and running her eyes over his curious and playful expression, their noses almost touching with their proximity.

"You're so annoying, do you know that?" The girl asked in a cynical tone, raising her right eyebrow as she assessed him with her eyes.

"But you still love me." Matt replied quickly, as if he already had the answer on the tip of his tongue. A smirk grew on his lips as he draped his right arm over the back of the wooden chair his girlfriend sat on, caressing the skin of her exposed shoulder with his fingertips gently.

"Doesn't make you less annoying."

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Y/N was busy in the kitchen of the large room in her house that she shared with the triplets, preparing a special meal to welcome the boys' parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, who were about to arrive for a visit in Los Angeles. She was determined to impress them with her cooking skills and make the couple's first day in the bustling city worth it.

While stirring a pan of sauce, Y/N heard footsteps approaching and soon Matt's figure left the small hall that led to their room and entered the kitchen with a beaming smile on his face, his feet taking him closer to his girl almost automatically.

"Hi sunshine, need help?" He asked, stepping forward to grab an apron and approach the stove, his blue eyes darting over all the ingredients laid out as his brain tried to process what she was making.

Y/N looked up at him, her face hardened with concentration as her right hand never stopped moving the spoon.

"No, thank you." The girl responded quickly, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the sauce below her. "I can do this on my own."

Matt frowned, ignoring her answer and rescuing a steak knife from the cutlery drawer, extending his free hand towards the still raw meat, ready to cut it into ideal sizes.

"Matt, I said I can do it myself." Y/N repeated slowly, as if she were speaking to a child, casting a furtive glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"I know you can, petal." The boy murmured softly, putting down the knife and raising his now free hand towards his girl, lightly pressing his warm palm against her still arm, caressing her skin. "But I want to be here with you to help in some way. It doesn't have to be everything or nothing."

Y/N sighed, feeling a little guilty about her own reaction. She didn't want to push Matt away, especially when he was just trying to be caring and helpful.

"Okay... I'm sorry." Her apology escaped in a barely there whisper, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a firm grip.

"What are we having for dinner today?" Chris's loud and excited voice echoed through the living room and kitchen as the boy climbed the stairs that led him from his room, interrupting the moment between the couple, eliciting a laugh from Matt and an eye roll from Y/N.

"None of your business."

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My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

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ohcaptains · 1 year

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don’t you dare fall in love | 3

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader

PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.

warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.

an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me...i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u.

When Ellie gets out of her meeting with her personal tutor, she’s just about ready to throw herself down the stairs.

Catapult herself out of the window and perish on the campus floor. That way, she wouldn’t have to rewrite this God. Damn. Essay.

It sucks that she has to do actual work to get her degree, but what sucks even more, is doing the work and being told you’ve done it all wrong.

At first, Ellie was angry. Now, she’s frustrated. Tired. Was up all night writing this essay because she’s been waiting for this meeting for a whole week, and all the man did was say, you’re not actually answering the question.

“Fucking asshole,” she murmurs, pushing through the doors.

She reaches the quiet hallway of the humanities block, the dilapidated building stuffy with age. She misses her uber-funded science building. Misses the cool white and sleek edges. Here, there’s paper covering everything.

The hallways go round and round – lift creaks from the weight of students carrying War and Peace in their backpacks, year after year.

She’s near tears when she hears you calling her name.

“Els?” you ask, tone confused and edged with excitement. Ellie’s heart does its little familiar leap. She turns to you, sniffing the tears away. It’s been a minute since she saw you in the flesh. Her body aches, eager to touch you. “Hey,” she greets, the presence of you brightening her mood for a sweet second. You’re wearing a casual pair of black jeans and a band tee – Ellie owns a similar one, and for a moment, she thinks you’re wearing her shirt. “I was just about to text you –” you start, but your face twists, noticing hers. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Ellie lies. The tears push harder now, your concern making her belly flop.

You frown. “No, you’re not.”

Her lip wobbles.

“Ellie?” “Sorry, just – fuck --” her eyes are rimmed red, tears pushing over the edge. “—had a really shitty meeting with my tutor about my essay that’s worth like, 50% of my grade and I’m so busy with other work and—” a tear slips down her cheek, but you’re quick to take her in your arms, murmuring, “oh, Els,” as you cup her head and pull it into your neck.

She releases a breath, leaning her full weight into your body.

You smell like laundry detergent and coffee. Smell familiar. She’s comfortable here. It’s why she lets herself begin to cry against your shoulder.

“Awh, sweetheart,” you whisper, hands running up and down her back, soothing her like a baby.

“What did the feedback say?” “Have to change the whole thing. And I have enough time, but I have other work.” “Yeah, I can imagine.” “He basically said that if I submit this essay, I’ll fail.” “Well, you won’t, because I’ll hack into the system and change your grade for you.”

Ellie hiccups a laugh, “you know nothing about computers.” “I’ll learn for you. Take some night classes. What’s the essay for?” you ask, still rubbing her back. “English.” “I can help you if you want.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, come to mine. I’ll look through the question with you, and help you plan.”

Ellie pulls away, wiping her wet, red-rimmed eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. You help her, drying the dampness from her chin and cheeks, and smoothing her hair behind her ears.

She beams from your touch. Her body goes hot from your care -- belly flips over.

You hold her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Ellie thanks the Gods you texted her that day. Your smile is resolute as you say, “It’ll be okay. We got this.”

When you open the door to your accommodation, Ellie is mid panic attack. “You live in a sorority?” she squeaks. When you sent her the address earlier, she hadn’t really read it, too busy trying to calm her beating heart. Going to her house going to her house.

Now, she’s standing in front of you, and thinking – this is your house? There’s a teardrop chandelier hanging behind you, and the staircase loops around the entrance hall, feeding into the back of the house.

You frown, confused. “Yeah, did I not tell you?” “No – “Ellie bursts, clearly flustered, “-- you failed to provide me with that information.” She makes a mental note to text Dina, simply – what the fuck, man? “Is it a problem?” you wonder, leaning against the doorframe, comfortable in your home. (Wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy top, you know, comfortable)

You didn’t seem like a sorority girl. But what did that even mean?

You did have a lot of…spirit.

Ellie imagines you hosting mixers and philanthropy events.

(Imagines you wearing a lot of pink and jumpers with your sorority name on it and nothing else.) “I don’t really sell to frats or sororities,” she explains, because, yeah, that’s the reason she’s having a hot moment. She thought she knew a lot about you. This, right here, is a big deal, and yet she’s only now just finding out.

What else did she not know about you? You think for a quick second. “Oh. Well,” you smile, patting your chest, concluding, “I’m the exception,” and you take her hand and pull her in, closing the door behind her.

When Ellie’s in the house, she doesn’t let go of your hand.

Instead, she uses it to tug you closer, and your wrist pushes into her belly. “They let queer girls into sororities?” she whispers, close enough to taste the mint gum you’re chewing.

Ellie has ideas of girls on the straight and narrow. No girl kissing here, unless guys are watching. Ellie cringes at the cliché, but you’re not offended – hadn’t heard her thoughts, so, that would be why – as your lips pull into a sly smile.

You lean forward, a ghost of a kiss. Ellie’s throat squeezes. “They don’t know that I’m a queer girl,” you whisper back, the heat of your eyes all-consuming.

Ellie watches you shrug.

“They don’t know that at least a quarter of them are queer girls, but – they’re not ready for that conversation.” “But you’re out, no?” Ellie quickly stumbles. If you’re not out, then that really messes with her plans to marry you and meet all your family. “Yeah,” you shrug again, explaining, “they just haven’t asked,” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. In some ways, Ellie guesses, it is. She beams, “Well, they’ll ask when they see you hanging with me.” “What, why?” “Because I’m a known queer girl” “Oh, you have a reputation?” you quirk, and Ellie hums, “It’s possible I may have fooled around with some of your sorority sisters.” You chew on your lip, and cock your head to the side, “But did you share a really weird and intimate high with them where you cuddled all night, woke up mid-orgasm and then it made things super weird and odd to the point where you never really spoke about it again?”

Ellie grins, “No.” You shrug, “Oh, well. I win then,” and take her hand and begin to drag her behind you like a lost puppy dog.

She’s behind you on the stairs again, and you catch her staring when you turn to say, “Let’s go to my room.” As you drag her through the house, Ellie doesn’t see anyone, but she does hear the ominous sound of girl giggles and whispering. Heat blooms in her cheeks, as if she’s got omniscient eyes at the back of her head.

Ellie didn’t get along with peppy girls – too full of inner turmoil to match their happy-go-lucky attitude. The thought makes her clutch your hand tighter, and she speeds up, bumping her shoulders with yours.

“So, what’re the rules?” “Huh?” you ask, looking at her funny. The pair of you pass a group photo, and Ellie wants to stop and gawk – try and find your smiling face – but you tug her along, sensing her motives. “Like,” Ellie starts, stuck on her phrasing. “How should I be around you?” You frown up at her, deciphering her meaning. Slowly, your frown loosens. A small smile pushes into the side of your cheek. You squeeze her hand.

“Just be my Ellie.”

The pair of you go through Ellie’s question, and you help her write up a plan, noting all of her points and the quotes she should use.

Ellie tries to focus, but the whole time she’s thinking about how close you are to her – leaning against her, pushing your shoulder into hers.

She’s sitting on your bed in your room, and she’s hot all over as a result – smelling the scent from your burning candle and listening to the soft music you’re playing out of the laptop speaker.

Your walls are covered in posters. Pictures of you with family and friends and Ellie is surrounded by so much you that it feels like it’s always been like this.

Always been in your room, with her head on your lap, listening to your playlist – Ellie’s got Shazam out, but you’re just sending her the link. On her main phone, now – no busted one at the bottom of her bag.

She’s so busy being with you that she’s not wondering what she’s doing with you.

What are we? She wants to ask, but then your roommate decides to come in.

She pauses in the doorway, flinching as if she’s walked in on something intimate.

Ellie watches your eyes widen an inch, but then you catch yourself, smiling and waving. “Hey,” you greet, and your roommate – actually wearing a hoodie with your university name on it -- smiles, “Sorry, just grabbing my charger.”

“No problem,” you respond, and when she finally flicks her gaze to Ellie – kept on looking around her, like she was panhandling for money on the subway – her smile loosens.

She’s silent as she grabs her wire from her bed and doesn’t look at the pair of you as she leaves. When she’s out of the door, you get up and lock it. Coming back, Ellie gets comfy on your lap again.

“Did she look at me funny?” She’s not sure what your relationship with her is like, so she steps carefully. “I think she fancies me,” you casually explain, and Ellie’s belly flops. “For real?” You nod, wiggling your brows. “Should I be jealous?” she jokes, and your lips curl, tongue peeking out as you run it across the backs of your teeth. “We were together, once.” Ellie tries to imagine the pair of you together, and she comes up blank. Though, that’s probably because she’s too busy editing the image to clip her face in. “Yeah?” “Mm, at a Halloween party.” You’re grinning too wide. “You’re just fucking with me,” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not! I was dressed as a cat, and she was this like, sexy nun or something.” “Really?” Ellie asks, raising a brow and pulling a face that says, you’re full of shit. “Fine – I won’t tell you then.” “No no, I wanna hear this.” “What’s with the tone? I thought you’d for sure want to hear about my sexual escapades.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” You pull your lips together and raise a brow. Ellie suddenly feels too hot. Suddenly wants to run very quickly out of your bedroom door. Butterflies swirl in her belly, blood rushes to her cheeks, to her neck, and she feels the tips of her toes go numb.

You’ve danced around each other with this flirty banter for a while now, but it means something more now that you’ve said it out in the open.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie lies, hoping the red of her cheeks isn’t too prominent in the warm glow of your bedroom. You don’t lose your pursed lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Just hurry up and tell me about how you fucked your roommate.” “Say please,” you quickly rebut, and Ellie chokes.

The fuck? “What?” She laughs nervously, ignoring the quick electric bolt that shot through her groin, “fuck off.” “Fine,” you bleat, leaning back against the bedframe. “I won’t tell you then,” and Ellie shakes her head, proclaiming, “You’re insane,” and you grin at her, raising a testy brow, “It’s just manners, Ellie.”

When Ellie had imagined the dynamics of your relationship – but not relationship – it was you saying please. Preferably whispering it with your fingers in her auburn hair. Please Ellie, please do that again.

Ellie sits up from your lap, shaking the image away.

She takes in the curve of your brow, and the teasing slip of your lips. She dips closer – sudden, quick – and relishes in the way your mouth falls open an inch.

“I’m not begging you,” she whispers, not bothering to hide how mesmerised she is by your mouth.

“No?” you speak, matching her lazy tone. You nod to her, “I thought you’d be into that.”

Jesus fucking Christ, what’s happening right now? Ellie thought you’d help plan her essay and be done with it – she’d hoped for some flirty banter, but this was different. This was… Ellie leans closer, propped up by her hand that she’s planted beside your thigh. “If I say please, I want intricate detail.” “If you say please, I’ll give you whatever you want.” This girl…

“Whatever I want?” Ellie quirks. “Yeah,” you respond, and you press your forehead against hers, tone breathy as you repeat, “Whatever you want.”

Ellie can think of a lot of things she wants. For starters, she wants to close this gap and finally kiss you, but she says, “Please tell me your story,” and you smile, all teeth.

“It was Halloween.” “You said that.” “n, we were really drunk, and she’s like – straight straight, right?” You say straight like someone would say sorry. “Mm,” Ellie hums, her belly swirling. She hasn’t moved a fucking inch. Her palm is cramping, but hell if she’s going to lean away from you right now. This is a whole other kind of foreplay. “We’re in the bathroom.” “Here?” she asks, needing details – information. What day was it? Time?

You nod, and your nose brushes against hers. Her face blooms red again, and the brush of your touch makes her brain fuzzy. “We’re making out, and I thought she only wanted to kiss, but then she starts tryna take my top off.”

There’s a sincere edge to your tone. Your eyes are wistful, but you’re beaming – spurred by the excitement evident in Ellie’s eyes.

“Things get heated. She’s touching me everywhere, you know, hands just, between my legs, on my chest. Says she’s wanted me for ages but couldn’t say it, I mean, she’s got a boyfriend.” “A boyfriend?” Ellie asks, and fuck, that makes it worse. Or better? Either way, her body begins to ache like it did that morning – when it was just the pair of you and the world was quiet. Thrums electric and Ellie’s suddenly worried about the electric bill. “Yeah – frat boyfriend. Frat president boyfriend.” “Look at you, miss home wrecker.” You roll your eyes, “you want me to finish the story?” “I said please, didn’t I?” “You’re the worst.” “So…she’s taking your top off.” “Yeah. Then she’s taking my pants off, too. Then says, she’s never been with a girl before, can I show her?” Ellie pulls back with a groan. She can’t help it. Pulls back and falls into your lap, imagining you showing her how to fuck.

Her eyes are glazed over, like she’s somewhere else, thinking, about something else. She rubs her face and listens to your sweet giggle.

“Sorry,” she says, settling back, and you hold your hands up.

“No worries, take your time.”

Ellie waits – patiently. Waiting for you to divulge more information. Please carry on, she thinks. Please please please.

She feels like a kid at camp listening to the teens tell a ghost story around the campfire. And then what?

“You made her come?” she whispers, failing to hide the excitement in her whisper. A small, thoughtful smile finds your lips, and you lean down, hair brushing over her face.

Your thigh pushes into the back of her head, and you smell like a forest.

Your room smells like a fucking forest. Pine and vanilla.

The lights are dim, cloaking the room in a warm glow. She swears she hears trees swaying in the distance, but she realises – faintly – that it’s just the blood rushing in her ears. No trees here, she thinks. No bloody forest.

You’re looking down at her, eyes glittering in the warm light. After a stress-filled silence, you nod, whispering, “against the wall, cat ears still on. Made her come so hard it was dripping down my chin.” “Jesus,” Ellie whispers. Her legs fidget, trying to squirm from the warmth pushing between her thighs. She pushes her hair away from her forehead, even those it’s already tucked behind her ears. “Then what?” she asks, moving in your lap. Then what then what.

Your lips curl into a small smile, “Then we never spoke about it again.”

Ellie feels her eyes go dark with the memory. Imagines a film over them — lost in her own brain. Pictures you crawling on your hands and knees, on the prowl with your cat ears sitting pretty.

What was it you said again? That she was dripping all over your chin?

Her tongue peaks through her lips, pretty in pink, and she notices your small smile curve wider. Though, it’s not kind. It’s edged with something, as if you’ve made a funny and she doesn’t get the joke.

Ellie’s belly drops.

A laugh bursts out of your mouth, and she freezes. Nononononono, you didn’t. “I’m sorry—” you start, hiding your smile, and Ellie’s lips open in shock, then she’s snapping to -- jumping up from your lap, red all over.

She’s looking for her coat, hands shaking “nah, that’s not funny,” she’s saying, all while the faux image of you between a girl’s thighs buzzes behind her eyes.

It was her. She was the girl. She’d even imagined taking your cat ears off and putting them on her head. “Yeah, it was – Ellie,” you laugh, reaching for her hand, and Ellie’s body reacts to the touch.

You spin her into you, pouting, “Come onnnnn, I was playing.” “You’re mean for making that up. You’re a horrible person.” “Awhhh, I’m sworry. I’m sworry, come here –” You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck. Be mad. Ellie thinks. Be mad be mad be mad—oh, but you’re so soft and warm.

She falls into you, hands catching your hips — holding you steady, as her head pushes into the curved gap between your throat and shoulder. You hold the back of her neck, hugging her close.

“I’m sorry, that was mean.” “Made me all worked up,” Ellie admits. The all-familiar ache is back. Then again, it’s never far when you’re around. “Yeah?” you quirk, the tone saying: tell me all about it. “Mm.” “Thinking about me with another girl?” She breathes a laugh, then breathes in your scent, the smell causing her to hold your hips tighter.

“You gotta write my essay now, make it up to me.” Your laugh rattles against her body.

“What you on about? I gave you free material to think about.” “What?” she laughs, squinting her face together. She pulls away, and you look up at her, chewing on your bottom lip.

You glance down at her mouth, and a breath gets caught in her throat. “Nothing,” You grin, and she cocks her head to the side, tightening her grip on your waist. “No, tell me. You made fun of me, you gotta tell me.” “I don’t have to do anything, Ellie.” “I’ll get it outta you.” “Yeah, how?” “You won’t know until it happens.”

“Weirdo,” you scoff, pulling away. “Let me walk you home, they wanna do a group meeting about some charity event later.” “Ooo, little miss sorority girl.”

You smack her chest, “Hey!” but Ellie grabs your hand, laughing as she pulls you into her, catching your hips again. You gasp in surprise, hands catching hers, and your chest pushes into hers.

She feels you focus on the cavern of her eyebrow scar, then the dust of freckles over her nose. The wild brush of her eyebrows, and the small, circular, chickenpox scar on her cheek.

Ellie gets confident or forgets the proximity of your relationship — nothing new — and rests her forehead against yours.

The world gets quiet.

The buzz of your music fades out, and all Ellie can hear is the small, clipped, and shaky sound of your breathing.

Your eyes flutter closed for a brief second, and Ellie wants to kiss you. Always wants to kiss you, but this is different. This is new and sudden and sweet. It’s soft. Gentle.

Your fingers graze over hers, and she imagines holding you like this forever.

Imagines doing this, as often as she likes.

All you’ve done together, and you haven’t even kissed yet. Ellie gazes at your wet mouth.

“Wanna come to mine? We don’t even have to smoke; you can just help me with the intro to my essay.” Your lips twist, and a small smile appears. “Ellie,” you whisper, tinged with a double meaning. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I can’t,” you whisper.

She breathes in deep, eyes closing as she presses her forehead against yours. “Not even for a second?” “Ellie.” “Please?” she whispers, looking at you, and your face falls. Your mouth opens an inch, the red of your tongue alluring. When you don’t respond, Ellie slowly dips lower and tentatively brushes her mouth against yours. Your breath catches.

The skin of your lips is pillow soft, and for the first time, she’s able to taste your lip gloss from the source. “Doesn’t please get me anything I want?” Ellie hushes. The music has bled into the background, a hum in the walls of your room. It rattles through her toes and dances through her chest, forcing her heart to thrum with life. Your eyes are half-lidded, lashes brushing over your cheeks when you look at her mouth. “That was a one-time deal,” you manage to tease, despite the nerves radiating off of you. “So, I can’t kiss you?” “I never said that.”

Your tone is dangerous. Ellie’s lips quirk into a smirk. “I didn’t say please though?”

There’s a heated 30 seconds where you pluck up some courage. Ellie can hear the cogs turning in your pretty little head before you conclude that, “manners are overrated,” and press your cherry lips against hers, sticky and artificially sweet.

The world stops in that movie magic kind of way.

Reality flutters to a pause, the music switches off, the natter from your roommates downstairs goes quiet, and Ellie can no longer hear the constant anxious beating of her heart.

It’s just you and your mouth – the press of your lips, no tricks, just the delicate touch of yours against hers.

Ellie is 15 again and playing truth or dare at that camp her uncle forced her to go to.

She’s picking dare and kissing Jessica Carter, the daughter of a man that owned a slew of Ice Cream shops in Salt Lake, and it means so much more to Ellie than it does to Jessica.

She feels the electricity of the kiss pulse throughout her body, like she’s got her soapy fingers in a light switch socket, and as she pulls away and Jessica laughs – giggles, cupping her wet lips, I can’t believe we just did that – Ellie feels the cavern in her chest close just an inch.

She was about to thank her, but then she thought better of it.

Pulling away now, there’s no Jessica, it’s you, and you’re pressing your fingers to your lips like you’re holding them out to a cat, nervous as to what’s going to happen next.

Ellie leans her forehead against yours, lips numb.

You’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Then you kiss her again.

Ellie stumbles back from the shock, but you move with her, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed frame.

She makes a quick decision – pulls away and gets back onto your bed, hoping you follow her down. Thankfully, you do – quirk a nervous smile and knee walk over to her, spreading your legs and clambering onto her lap.

You sit back on her thighs with your knees pressed against her hips.

The position is a memory re-lived, except this time, you’re both alert – no sleep to mask the feeling, just the nerves pulsating through your veins. New new new, it’s saying.

Ellie reaches out and steadies your hips.

Taking a shaky breath, she slips her thumbs under the fabric of your shirt and runs the length of your shorts. The skin there burns, heat radiating off of you like a furnace, and it’s as if you enjoy the touch, as you take Ellie’s hands and cup them with your own, keeping them against your skin, before dragging them around your hips.

Ellie catches your eyes, breath lodged in her throat.

It stays there while you run her fingers up and under your shirt, painstakingly moving her hands over your stomach, over your rib cage, and Ellie’s heart swells in her chest as the tips of her fingers feel the underwire of your bra.

Ellie can’t decide what she wants.

There are too many options – kiss you, undress you – and she so badly wants all of them all at once. When you finally drag her palms over your breasts, she feels your nipples pressing through the thin and lacey fabric, and her belly swirls, the pressure pushing low.

Your breath rattles in your chest. “You okay?” Ellie asks, and instead of answering, you bow down to kiss her.

This kiss is different. It’s desperate. Tinged with the need to tell Ellie it's okay, it's okay, as you slip your tongue in her mouth. She groans.

It’s deep and low, echoing around the room, and there’s a fleeting second where Ellie is embarrassed, but you swallow the sound down, hips reacting, pressing into her crotch.

Ellie aches with the memory of before.

She wants to tease you, wants to say, you gonna come like this again? but you drag your lips over to her neck, and she whines pathetically.

Oh fuck, she thinks. Ellie goes liquid, like syrup. She melts into the mattress, hands relax on your breasts, and just – lets you pepper kisses over her throat. Let’s you run your tongue under her jaw, and her hips buck in response. Jolt up into your crotch, and your breathing changes, now coming out in long, deep pulls.

You mark her neck with your mouth, and Ellie feels the suck of your lips in her gut. Her hands go exploring, sliding over your tits, and she rubs her thumbs over your nipples, listening for your breathing stutter.

When you mumble a desperate fuck, into her throat, Ellie suddenly wants you on your back.

She knocks the pair of you over, and you fall back onto your mattress, grinning up at Ellie with a wild smile. You take her in. Eyes flutter over her like butterflies, taking in her statue as she sits on top of you. Suddenly, though, your smile changes. Goes nervous.

“What does this mean for us?” you whisper, and Ellie shakes her head, moving to kiss you again. Now on top, she swells with the feeling of control.

“Don’t think about it,” she mumbles, then tastes cherry again.

Ellie’s a hypocrite because all she does is think about it.

Up all night in bed, thinking about it. Thinking about how she wants you as her girlfriend, but she hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet.

Doesn’t know about your family. Your friends. Doesn’t know your favourite movie, or colour. All she knows is your weed order. The thought makes her sick with shame.

The mumble of her name coming out of your lips brings her back.

You stuff her shirt in your hands, and Ellie wants it off.

Wants your hands all over her, wants to grind her hips into yours like you did hers, with your hands on her hips guiding her.

“Wanna see,” you mumble, tugging at her shirt, and Ellie’s skin prickles.

She drags her hips back, the seam of her jeans pushing against her crotch, and sits up straight. She grins, all teeth, then fists the shirt, pulling it up her chest. The lines of her muscles are revealed, along with a few white scars that dot her stomach and back. She’s wearing a casual cotton bra, but you look at her as if she’s donning silk. “So pretty,” you whisper, blinking up at her, and that shame that sat inside of her dispels. You slide your hands over her chest, and the warmth of them pushes into her bloodstream. “Pretty?” Ellie quirks, needing something to distract herself from the languid movement of your hands. You trail your fingers over her ribcage, then push your pointer up her breast bone, mouth open an inch, ignoring her, and Ellie’s limbs go jelly.

You’ve got your goddamn explorer hat on as you drag the base of your palm between her tits, your spare hand lazily rubbing her hip bone.

“What’re you doing?” she asks, words coming out as a breathy whisper. You flash a small smile, “committing you to memory.” A dangerous pressure builds in Ellie’s heart. Her cheeks bloom red, her skin prickles, and she feels light-headed, as if you’ve removed all the oxygen in the room.

You hook a finger around the elastic of her bra and tug her forward. Ellie catches herself on the mattress beside your head just as you kiss her, pushing your tongue into her mouth and crotch up into hers.

She shudders.

The kiss is all tongue, desperate, as she bumps her nose against yours to taste you. She’s preoccupied with your mouth, so she doesn’t notice your hand sliding between her thighs. When she does, she forgets how to kiss. “S-Shit,” Ellie stutters, caught off guard. Your touch is gentle, just, lazily rubbing your fingers into her jeans. There’s a lot of fabric between you, thus Ellie’s left the chase the friction.

Resting her forehead against yours, she clutches the sheets beside you, rolling her hips into your hand. She blinks at you, opening her eyes, and you’re staring at her like she’s an artwork – trying to memorise every brush stroke.

You bump your nose against hers, flexing your palm. Ellie hums again.

“You sure you wanna do that?” she jokes, clutching onto any semblance of sanity. You give her a lazy smile, lips wet with her spit. “’s ’only fair.

“Not –” Ellie starts, but chokes, your knuckle just hitting the top of her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed, mouth opening an inch, and you must sense the shift, because you keep your hand there, nodding, knowing what she was going to say before she said it.

“Gonna make you come 'cause I want to, not ‘cause I have to.” “Fuck – okay,” Ellie relents. There’s no way she’s going to leave in the middle of this. She can’t. She’d probably collapse mid-way. A pressure pushes between her thighs, hot and constant. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she whispers something. Sounds like your name.

Been a minute since she’d had a hand other than hers between her legs.

Ellie lazily chases your palm, thinking that If she moves too quickly, this moment will poof into a dream. Doesn’t want to scare it away.

To hide her red face, she nuzzles into your throat, roles reversed from that morning, except Ellie didn’t have her hand between your thighs. She tells herself it’s her turn to do that next.

You pop the button on her jeans, and Ellie glances down at your hands, seeing/feeling them tug at the band.

You turn into her head, “Jesus, these painted on or something?” and Ellie breathes a laugh, “Didn’t expect someone else taking them off.” “I need easy access from now on, only sweatpants.” “Noted.” Your smile goes silly, “preferably those grey ones you wore when I came over that time, when I made you dinner.” “Thought you liked those ones, caught you staring at my ass.” “No you did not.” Ellie kisses your neck, “It’s so sexy when you gaslight me.” You huff, “You gonna help me take them off, or watch me struggle?” and a slow grin builds across Ellie’s face. “Wanna see you work for it.” “Well, you’ll be watching for a while. Enjoy the show!” you joke, trying to drag the denim off of her hips. You grunt loudly, brow furrowed as you tug.

Finally, you throw your hands up with a huff, then pout and cross your arms. Ellie’s leaned back at this point, and she mimics your face.

“Defeated by The Gap,” Ellie sighs. “I’m gonna put in a complaint. Tell them that their stupid jeans stopped my girlf—” you catch yourself, eyes widening.

Ellie goes still.

There’s a second where she hears the crowd cheering in the background, but it turns out it’s a kid crying on the street outside.

“What did you just say?” she asks, tone filled with awe. She cannot help the shit-eating grin that splays across her face. It’s so big that you have to cover your face from the shine. “I said nothing.” “Um, I heard something.” “You didn’t hear anything.” “I heard the word girl and then an ‘F’ sound.” “You didn’t! I’m telling you; you’re hearing things. Going crazy.” “Ummmmmm,” Ellie drags, squinting down at you.

She tries to pull your hands away, but you won’t budge. “I heard something!” “I was going to say, girl fellow!” “Girl what?” Ellie laughs, eyes alight with humour.

“Yeah—” you start, pulling your hands away and masking your features. You’re a beacon of control.

“Girl fellow. It’s this new thing I coined. A girl who is a fellow, as in friend.” Ellie squints, “Fellow means boy, you weirdo.” “No it—” you frown. “Does it?” “Yes, have you not seen Robin Hood?” You pause, “No.” “Oh my god!” Ellie erupts. “How have you not seen Robin Hood? I used to be obsessed with it.” “Everything makes so much sense now.” “The fuck does that mean?”

You push your hands into her hips, fingers tickling. “Do you have a pointy bow and arrow at home? A little green hat?” “Shut up,” Ellie laughs, trying to bat your hands away. She catches them. “That makes so much sense,” you start, joking around, “You’re far too into social justice.” “How are you bullying me about world change? You just called me your girlfriend!” “Fellow!” you correct. “That means girl boy!” You grin triumphantly, “Welcome to the 21st century, Ellie.” She rolls her eyes, “you’re so annoying.” “Your jeans are annoying.” “My jeans are cute.” You point a finger at her, “I’m gonna fight your jeans.”

Ellie dips low and kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “mm, my money’s on the jeans,” and you wrap your thigh around her ass, using it as leverage to roll her onto her back.

You suddenly slide down, standing at the edge of the bed and shoving your hands into the band of her trousers. With a determined look, you manage to pull them down, “fuck your jeans.”

They end up on the floor, and Ellie’s left in a pair of boxers and her bra. She’d clap for you if she wasn’t so suddenly dazed. You appear on top of her, and she automatically wraps her arms around your shoulders, humming contently as you kiss her.

When her brain comes back to reality, she manages to switch positions again, knees pressing beside your thighs. With a tentative touch, you trace your hand over her stomach, distracting her with the wet of your kiss.

When your fingers touch the band of her underwear, Ellie’s breathing changes. It’s all suddenly real.

“Wanna stop?” you breathe, tone sincere and gaze gentle. Despite the bubble in her chest, Ellie has never wanted to continue something more. She shakes her head, eager. “Fuck no.”

Your sweet giggle distills the tension. “Good,” you grin, sliding your fingers lower, “wanted to do this since I met you.”

The tips of your fingers drag over her clothed pussy, gentle and soft. Ellie releases a shaky breath.

There’s just a piece of flimsy cotton stopping you from skin on skin, but she’s so wet that it feels that way, anyway.

Her eyes flutter closed, the sensation lulling her, fueling her with dopamine, and she buries her head in the crook of your neck, flexing her hips to meet your hand.

You drag the corner of your knuckle up her clothed slit, pushing into her clit when you get to the top. Ellie groans quietly, and you grin into the side of her head, rolling your knuckle into her, and she moans.

“Fuck, s’good.” “Yeah?” you ask, and Ellie nods. Propelled by her quiet desperation, you twist your hand and push a finger against her damp clit – the wet fabric showing the lines of her pussy – and roll it gently.

The fabric in the way makes it dirtier, more desperate, and makes Ellie moan pathetically into your neck, forgetting you’ve got roommates. She chases your hand.

Hips stir up, wet heat coiling in her belly and pushing into her cunt. Is this what you felt? That morning in her apartment?

The fire is quick to rise, and it’s only been a couple of minutes of her grinding into your palm when her pussy clenches, heat pushing at the back of her clit.

“Mm,” she hums, inhaling a shaky breath. Her thighs begin to shake. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” she hushes into your ear, and she swears she hears you whimper. You turn to look at her, and pout, “Want it on my fingers, Ellie,” you admit, eyes innocent, wide with wonder, and Ellie’s jaw clenches.

Her hips lose their rhythm, and how the fuck is she in control right now? She doesn’t feel that way. Feels like she lost any semblance of control when you flipped her over and pulled her jeans off. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Shit. Take my – fuck,” she stumbles, and you push your fingers under the band of her underwear, asking, “Can I?” in such a pure tone that Ellie has to close her eyes and breathe through her nose. “Yeah baby,” she nods, “s’okay. Fuck. It’s okay.”

You drag your fingers through her pubic hair – eyes on her the whole time – before you stuff your pointer and index against her wet clit. You start to roll the nerve, and Ellie chokes on her spit. Her body shudders.

She’s in your goddamn dorm room in your sorority with your hand down her pants.

You’re watching her intently. Glazed eyes gazing at her features, fingers controlling the way her brows furrow and cheeks bloom red. It’s wholly intimate. Ellie’s slick coats your fingers.

“So hot, Ellie.”

Her body flushes – she has to bury her head in your neck again, where she nods. She grinds her cunt into your hand, forcing you to press harder and roll quicker. “Mm, fuck,” Ellie swears, spit dribbling over her lips, drunk on your fingers, “Fuck, m’ gonna come.” She feels the familiar pressure behind her clit, the heat that sears – almost painful. You twist into her, nodding, saying, “Give it to me El’s.” Then, “please.”

The wave rushes up and pulls her under, rendering her voiceless and still, before it crashes, and she gushes over your hand, chasing the spin of your fingers as she shakes. “Mm, god, god, shit” she whimpers, voice muffled by your neck, trying so hard to keep quiet, but fuck, she’s not in control of her body. She clenches the duvet as her pussy clenches and un-clenches, clit spasming, whole body slick with sweat.

Her hips grind into your fist, eyes rolled back, mumbling curses into your throat, and she’s clenching the duvet so tight that her knuckles go white.

Then someone calls your name.

You freeze. Fingers go still.

Ellie wants to cry, but somewhere in her drunk mind, she realises the severity of the situation.

When you don’t respond, your name gets called again.

“Fuck,” you curse, then “Ellie, baby, I’m sorry, you gotta get off of me.”

Ellie manages to find the energy to roll off of you, and you get up, legs stumbling before you reach the door.

“Y-Yeah?” you call out through the wood.

Ellie lays boneless on your bed, breathing deeply through her nose. Her boxers are pushed low, pubic hair on show, but she doesn’t have the power to sort herself out.

She should be nervous at the idea of being caught, but fuck, her clit still throbs with the memory of your fingers. She languidly blinks at the ceiling, trying to calm her heart.

How the fuck did that just happen?

“Meeting soon, you coming?” the faceless voice calls, and you mumble a curse before saying, “Yeah! Gimmie a minute.”

When you turn to her, Ellie’s already gazing at you. You quirk a small, sad smile, and Ellie nods, understanding.

“Lemme just,” she starts, rubbing her face, “find the energy.” You giggle at her. “Let me help you put your stupid jeans on.” Ellie props herself up by her elbows, beaming, “My top down there, too?” “Got it.”

She manages to shove her jeans on, wincing when she knocks her sensitive clit. You eye her.

“Listen, I—” you start, clearly flustered. You motion to her, “—Would take better care of you after but.” “Whoa – what?” Ellie cuts you off, shoving her shirt on with a frown.

You purse your lips, “like, cook you dinner or kiss your forehead or something.” “You’ve already cooked me dinner, and you can kiss my forehead whenever you want.” “I mean. I don’t usually make a girl come and then dip.” “Oh,” Ellie frowns, “But this is different.” You pout, “Still feel bad.” “Don’t,” Ellie firmly spouts. She takes your hands and kisses your forehead. “I feel good, you should feel good.” “It was good?” you ask, suddenly lit up and eager to hear more. Ellie laughs. Her body is filled with a warm, buttery feeling. She’s still drunk on you, lethargic from coming, and she doesn’t have the space to panic.

Her subconscious tries to tell her everything that has happened that should cause her concern.

She nearly called you her girlfriend, then made you come on her double bed with a flowery bedspread. Now she feels bad because she doesn’t have enough time to give you adequate aftercare. Dude.

Still, Ellie shows no alarm when she kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll call you.”

It’s only when she gets home, looks in the mirror and sees her lips glittery with your lip-gloss, that reality sets in.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fan fic #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #smut #ellie williams the last of us #dealer!ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou

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gendercomsumer · 3 months

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hiii ^^ I would like some headcanons for riddle, malleus, vil and rook with a fem mc that accidentally ends up making them laugh (because what she says or does is very random xd maybe an example would be like jennifer lawrence sjjs she is very funny ) well that's all, thanks and take care <3

Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook with an S/O who can make them laugh with the most random things

A/N: Hello to you too Anon! I know this has been in my inbox for gods knows how long- But thank you still for sending this in! I hope this is to your liking! I actually did watch some Jennifer Lawrence videos for inspiration and I have to agree the comedic timing she has is perfect!! I also used some google translate in Rooks part so it may not be accurate ^^;

Characters: Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook

Warnings: Cursing to a mild degree, playful mention of stalking in Rooks (I love him I swear!!!), lightly proof read

Fem!Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is a bit difficult to get a good genuine laugh out of, at least in my opinion.

Like sure you have a small chuckle when he finds something amusing, but i feel like it'd be a bit of a challenge to get a good genuine laugh out of.

Then you came in, saying the strangest things at the most unrelated times!

And Ace and Deuce find this absolutely hilarious

You'll say the most out of pocket shit with the straightest face and somehow half the people around you start to laugh some others breaking out in giggles

Ace and Deuce have definitely talked about this 'talent' of yours, at least in their words.

You had said some of these strange comments around Riddle and he found them strange a bit endearing as well

I'd think the time you got a good laugh out of him was when you had come with him to take care of some of the hedgehogs

The two of you were sitting in the grass some of the hedgehogs were playing while a few had decided that climbing on the two of you was a good way to pass the time

One had wandered up onto your head and almost fell off but luckily you were able to save the little guy before he fully hit the ground

After Riddle worriedly checked the little guy over you while looking over his shoulder at the small animal said:

"Well at least we know this one has no self preservation"

Unwillingly, or maybe subconsciously, a small laugh makes it's way through Riddles chest to his lips.

Well, now maybe he saw what those two were blabbering on about

Your little comments were always appreciated with Riddle

Even if they didn't cause him to laugh they did brighten his mood at least somewhat

"Yes, this one does tend to be a bit of a handful. Reminds me of a certain rose I know"

He teased before you two fell back into the pattern of caring for the small animals

More chuckles and comments to come no doubt

Malleus Draconia

At first Malleus didn't understand why the rest of Diasomnia found your remarks so comical

Yes his child of man did tend to bring a certain warmth where ever she walked

But he didn't see this as an excuse for the amount of laughter you cause people around you

Most of the remarks you make will fly over his head

I'm sorry but he seems like the kind of guy to not get the joke until you explain it to him-

Now the Thorn Prince does share a few chuckles with those around him when he finds something amusing, similar to Riddle

But it's even more difficult to get a laugh out of him considering he doesn't get a lot of the play on words type of jokes

but something abrupt and slightly out of context?

I feel like that would get some sort of laugh out of him

One day you were talking with Malleus about some of the things you did in your old world

The topic of amusement parks came up and you started listing the rides you used to go on as a child

Roller coasters, bumper cars, lazy rides where you could relax, until you blanked on the name of a ride

It was frustrating considering it was probably something simple and you would remember it after their conversation, but you wanted to keep the ball rolling

Malleus mean while was partly enjoying seeing how frustrated you got over a simple word

You really were a strange thing weren't you Child of man?

"I'm sorry Mal- I know what I'm thinking of! It's on the tip of my tongue- It's like one of those horse tornado things!"

Horse.. tornado..?

Now that got Malleus attention

he understood the other rides you described, favoring the lazy rides

but what ever this horse tornado was... it sounded.. strange, yet curious at the same time

"CAROUSELS!! FUCKING CAROUSELS, THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED!"

Malleus let out a small puff of air before he started chuckling under his breath

You truly were a strange one weren't you child of man, just like the world you came from

Malleus pressed a kiss to your forehead letting out one more chuckle before speaking

"Truly fascinating, maybe one day you could bring me to one of these 'horse tornados' you have me interested"

Sure jokes your fly over his head, but he would tease you some what for your small skips in memory

Vil Schoenheit

Now Vil, having acted in a lot of movies, (If I'm correct) Would have probably had a few good laughs in that line of work

Weather that be on set or behind the cameras

But he doesn't often let out a good laugh in public, it's not really part of the proper image he'd want to put out there

As for behind closed doors or with close friends he's definitely willing to have a laugh

And who better to bring a smile to his face than his lovely sweet potato?

Though one good moment always stuck out to him that caused him to have one of the most genuine laughs in awhile

The two of you were getting ready to go out to a fancy restaurant, courtesy of Vil of course, hair, makeup, shoes things like that

While Vil was sitting at his vanity working on his eyes when you came out of the bathroom in a stunning dress hand picked by Vil

It brought out all your best features while still being enough coverage to where it wasn't uncomfortable to wear into a public area

The two of you made idle conversation as you sat on a near by chair to slip on a matching set of heels for the dress

As you stood up in the heels to work on your own makeup you lost your balance thanks to the new height the heels provided

Although Vil was quick to catch you making sure you came no where near the floor he still was concerned

"Oh sweet potato are you alright? What happened?"

Yes looking back on it the question seemed dumb but he was concerned

but you just let out a giggle while regaining your balance before saying:

"Well I'm not sure what happened, but I remember wanting to yell 'fuck' as my last words before I embarrassed myself"

Vil took a moment while looking at you

then a chuckle escaped his lips which soon turned into the two of you sharing a small laugh

Now Vil doesn't know why he laughs at your antics, in hindsight they're just normal phrases

But maybe it's the delivery?

Or the way you smile at him?

What ever it may be it always causes a smile to grace his lips or a chuckle to be drawn from him

Sure Vil maybe all about preserving beauty and making sure he looks flawless

But if he happens to get a few smile lines because of your antics, he will never hold it against you

"Well my darling, I'm glad to hear you're alright. It would be a shame if you or your lovely dress got roughed up before we left. Now come, you still want to do your makeup don't you? Allow me to help"

Rook Hunt

Now Rook has plenty of laughs in his life

Weather that be from stalking some poor soul or a genuine laugh among friends

Rook out of the four is probably the easiest to get a laugh from

He's a joyful guy wanting to see all nature and the world has to offer! Can you blame him?

Then enters you who some how can't help but leave Rook giggling when ever you do something!

You put your tie on wrong? Oh silly Trickster aren't you just the sweetest thing!

Then comes your words which to Rook is a whole new ball park

Rook tends to hold onto every word meant for him, weather that be written or spoken out loud

His darling Tricksters words are so elegant and so sweet how could he not treasure everyone!

What really gets him chuckling and laughing is the moments when your words aren't as sweet and graceful

Cut to one day when you and Rook were in the fields often used for flying class

Rook had a desire to teach you archery so he happened to drag you along with a quiver and bow to some targets set by his hand

After the first few moments of Rook teaching you how to properly hold and aim the bow and making sure your arm guard was secure (He wouldn't want his darling trickster to get rope burn!) He let you shoot

All was going well as you hit targets in an... acceptable way

But all that seemed to end when a large gust of wind sent your best shot yet off course and into the ground

And just as Rook was about to offer some encouragement to keep going and try once more

some colorful language came from you to say the least

"Wind!? Really!?! Could you not wait two fucking minuets!! Nooooo! You just had to thro my best shot off course you-!"

Now don't get Rook wrong he hold the sweet words you two share close to his heart

But there was just something about you yelling at the wind of all things that caused him to start laughing

As he laid on the grass of the field eyes closed as he laughed

Oh? It seems your colorful language is directed towards him now? Even better!

"Trickster- reine de mon coeur! Please I believe- I believe you have shared plenty enough words with the wind today!"

A/N: This is actually the first time I've taken a good look at the name of Malleus' dorm. Dia = Dragon. Somnia = Sleep

Diasomnia = Dragon of sleep

just a ting i found silly :)

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bianquitasworld · 5 months

Note

maybe a Dave Lizewski x reader period comfort? Ite that time of the month and as always it’s never fun 😔

Rest and Relaxation

Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: None to my knowledge, aside from talks of menstruation.

A/N: I’m on my period right now and I’m literally fighting for my life. 💔

Dave couldn't help but notice the silence in the atmosphere as soon as he entered the apartment he shared with his girlfriend.

Usually, she would be waiting for him on the couch, binge-watching a random show like New Girl or Girlfriends. However, as he walked further into the apartment and looked toward the couch, a pout fell upon his face at her absence.

Dave searched the apartment until he entered your shared bedroom. His eyes fell upon a lump of fluffy pillows on top of your shared bed. A small smile formed upon his face and he let out a breathy laugh.

“H-hey!” His voice is cheery as he walks to flop on top of the large mattress. He reaches a hand out to pull the blanket open enough so he can see you, as soon as his eyes meet yours a small sense of worry washes over him.

You look tired and your forehead creases as if you were in pain and he can’t help but reach out and caress the side of your head lovingly.

“W-what’s wrong love bug?” Dave’s voice is soft and caring. You can hear the genuine concern in his voice which makes brightens your mood slightly.

“Cramps.” You mutter groggily and push the blankets off your face. “They hurt more than usual.” A small frown falls upon your face as you look into your boyfriend’s beautiful alluring eyes. His soft eyes and the sympathetic smile he’s giving you make you want to cry. Your emotions are everywhere and the pain in unbearable.

His brows furrowed as he looked at you. “Oh! Do you need anything? Do you need pads? Tampons? Diva cup? Chocolates? Midol? Heating pad? Water?! You have to stay hydrated ya know’?”

Dave’s rambling catches you off guard. His concern is so sweet and the way he’s talking and wanting to do anything to make your feel better.

“No, no.” You shake your head quickly. “I-I’m fine, I’m good..Actually-I think I ran out of pads..”

Dave stands from the bed hastily and grabs his wallet and keys. His glasses fall on the bridge of his nose and he nods and stumbles over slightly.

“I got it! I can like so do that! Right, right.” He nods and speaks loud enough for you to hear. He looks like a man on a mission as he quickly exits the room.

Dave returns after a second with an awkward look on his face, he walks over to you and gives you a quick kiss. “Sorry! I forgot, okay! I love you! I’ll be right back!”

You return the kiss happily. “I love you too!”

After about 30 minutes you can’t help but let concern consume your mind, Dave had been gone for so long and the store wasn’t that far from your shared apartment.

Meanwhile Dave was nervously pacing around the store trying to decide which size pad to get, he forgot to ask and he was far too embarrassed to call you and ask.

His cart is already filled with several of your favorite chocolates, your favorite savory snacks, ingredients to make your favorite comfort foods, teas, apple juices, Miodl, and a new stuffed animal to add to your collection.

He knew his budget was tight, his next pay check wasn’t coming till later in the afternoon. He had to think..maybe he could put back the snacks he had gotten for himself, so he shrugged it off and did! He got you five different sizes and overnight pads and shoved them all into the cart.

He let out a small huff and double-checked everything in the cart and nodded to himself, giving himself a mental pat on the back-a small proud smile on his face.

Dave hesitated for a second, he was trying to decide whether he should go check out through the self checkout or the register. He ultimately decided to choose the register seeing as there was barely any lines and it was faster.

Dave knew you got worried when he was out too long, he started piling everything on to the conveyer belt and look up at the cashier who’s eyes widened at the sight of all the pads and goodies.

Dave only offered an awkward smile and payed once everything was scanned. He bagged it up and quickly headed off to the house, jogging slightly. Dave’s face was filled with a bright smile at the thought of seeing your face and the excitement on it! He could already imagine how happy you’d be!

As he arrived home and carried the bags inside he became alarmed when he heard sobs from the bedroom, he quickly walked over to see you cuddled up with your pet cat, Marylin- a small cat with splotches of white, black, and ginger fur.

Dave looked towards you with concern and then pause when he looked up at the TV and realized you were watching Shameless. He turned back towards you and paused, Oh Brother! He thought to himself.

“Hey-Hey, bug w-what’s wrong?” Dave treated lightly, knowing he had to watch what he says or else he’d probably make it worse.

Dave watches as you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “Fiona raised them to the best of her ability-she was just a kid a-and Monica just thinks she can come in and take that from her. It’s just so sad-“

Dave nods and watches as your cat nuzzles against you. He carefully sits down on the bed and caress the side of your face and kisses your cheek. “Yeah-yeah it is upsetting bug-But it’s okay, alright? I got you something it might make you feel better? Wanna see it?”

Dave pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiles softly. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a medium sized duck stuffy with snorkeling gear on. Dave’s smile widens as he watches your lips curve up into a small smile.

“Davie..You got this for me? Thank you! I love it he’s so cute! Thank you!” You can’t help but pull him in for a kiss and smile at him with nothing but love behind your eyes. You could’ve sworn your pupils were probably the size of buttons right now.

“Oh! I got you your favorite apple juice.”

Dave shrugs like it wasn’t a big deal and smiles up at you.

“Ya know t-the one in the glass bottle?-Oh! Also got you chocolates and chips and some tea, heard that helps with cramps-“

He pulls out a bottle of Midol and shakes it. “More meds for cramps!”

The shaking of the bottle catches Marylin’s attention, she jumps forward trying to pounce on Dave’s hand and completely misses landing on the plushy pink carpet of your bedroom floor. She meows dramatically and exits the room in a stealthy manner.

You let out a small snort, what a drama queen she is. You turn your attention back to Dave and smile at him. He’s the best boyfriend ever and you can’t even fathom how you managed to snatch him up.

“Oh! I-I um I got you pads..I didn’t know what size you were so I got-I got them all-all the sizes..” A blush coats his cheeks. He look up at you embarrassed, his eyes widen as he watches your own eyes water and notices tears streaming down your cheeks, he panicked.

“What’s wrong?! Did I get the wrong sizes? The wrong snacks?! I can go back to the store right now!” He moves to get up but is stopped when you quickly grab his arm and pull him back into the bed with you.

“No nothings wrong! You’re just s-so sweet! You’re so sweet Dave! This is like the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Your voice cracks and he let out a breath of relief and nods.

“Thank you, this so so sweet..really this is amazing!”

“You don’t have to thank me-i’m just doing what any boyfriend would.” Dave shrugs and pulls you in for a kiss.

You pull away with a dorky smile on your face.

“Also I bought some stuff to make some pasta-“

“If you don’t stop i’m going to cry again-oh my god.” You fan your face with your hands to try and calm down. He’s literally the sweetest man on earth and he’s your boyfriend!

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #kick ass x reader #kick ass 2 #aaron taylor johnson x y/n #aaron taylor johnson x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #kick ass #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski x you #reader x dave lizewski #dave lizewski one shot

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dnsbarbie · 4 months

Text

DEAR READER | C.L16 (THREE)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated french, Complex relationship, resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones (jk 1/2)

Parts: one | two | three | four

Note: let me know if you want to be included in the tag list!

NATALIA VALLE WAS NOT a nobody. Or at least, that was what her father used to tell her. All her life, she endured loneliness from her inability to make and keep relationships. Perhaps it was a trait passed down through her family. She wasn’t quite sure. It took her a while to accept her predicament and as she was just beginning to embrace the path to nunnery, Susie Wolff appeared out of thin air.

The rest? Well, here it was. At North Holland, Netherlands. Circuit Zandvoort, to be more specific.

Natalia strode through the area, eyes subtly darting through the space. She tried her best to even out her breathing. Deep down she knew this wouldn’t be any different from the previous days.

Opening up her senses, she was greeted by the slowly increasing noises of screaming fans, colliding with the guide’s booming voice echoing out from the numerous speakers encircling the stands.

Her head began to feel a dull pounding sensation. If it was the jet lag, now would be the worst time for it to come barreling to her face.

Oh no—

“Natalia! Natalia!”

“Great. . .” She muttered. Her fingers gripped tightly at the colorful lanyards crumpled in her hands before mustering up her best smile at the reporter practically running to her.

Just like that, her peace was destroyed same as yesterday and the day before.

She met him half way, twitching at how careless he shoved that big ass mic he had to her face.

Lowering down the object, she kept her polite gaze.

“Wonderful to see you here, Natalia!” He exclaimed, baring a toothy grin at her.

“Yes, it’s great to finally attend other races, for sure.” She nodded.

Before he even speaks, Natalia grumbles internally. She knew the look he gave him. It’s one of those looks that reports tend to give her before they ask something that they think she’ll be okay with, only to come at her with a full blown pompous comment in an attempt to humiliate her.

“Daddy Toto’s paying extra, eh?” On contrary to his guffawing figure, Natalia stood unfazed, simply chuckling despite the burning desire to rip this man’s remaining hair out his old balding head.

“Ferrari, actually.” She quipped, watching the confusion etch onto his face as his laugh dies down.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m doing my internship in Ferrari,” She simpered at the him. “I’ll be graduating from university in a few months, you see.”

“I—I see!” Not surprising either that he’s got more up his agitating sleeve. “And what of Mercedes? Why did you not choose to work there?”

“I don’t choose,” She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “This opportunity was given to me and I am extremely grateful. It’s an honor to be working for Ferrari.”

She visibly held her breath as a herd of voices invaded behind the interviewer. Blood rushed to her ears as she realized they were getting closer.

She confirmed her suspicion as she peaked through, spotting the the sea of journalists trying to get past the security line.

“Natalia!”

“NATALIA! WHERE’S TOTO?”

“Is it true that you moved in with the Wolffs’?”

“Natalia! A moment please!”

“What’s going with you and Charles Leclerc?”

“Nice meeting you!” She hurried, as she turned her attention back to the previous torn on her side, nodding politely. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Hope you enjoy the race!” She waved to the other raging journalists, squinting as their chants of her name got louder.

Sprinting away to the Ferrari paddock, she sighed. She pushed the glass doors open, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender. This quiet atmosphere instantly brightened her mood.

Elation spread to her lips at the sight the delectable food on the buffet table. Delight flamed through her eyes at the sight of the various selection of Dutch delicacies.

She scanned the table, quite fascinated with each of the names written on a signage corresponding to the food. Grabbing a small plate, she picked out a few, such as sphere-shaped snacks called Bitterballen and Krudnoten. A happy sway parked in her as she noticed a Stroopwafel truck outside, making a mental note to stop by later.

“Halo, linda!”

She whirled around, a plaesant smile blossoming on her lips as the man with the most gorgeous hair in the grid, as they say, approaches her.

“Carlos! Long time no see!” Natalia said, bringing him into a short hug.

“It is, indeed. I hear you work for Charles now,” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, chuckling as her smile quickly faded

“Not for him,” She denies, putting her palm up. “I’m working with h— yeah okay, I am.” Drooping in defeat, she glares at Carlos’ amused smirk.

“So?” He asks, as if expecting her to understand.

“So, what?” She raises her brows.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “Working for him, that is.”

She tilts her head, biting into one of the treats on her plate. “His social media presence is getting better because of me . . .” Pride swells in her smile. “And I get to boss him around too. I’d say it’s not as bad as I thought. More fans for him equals more money for me.”

Carlos chortles at the brunette’s blatant response to which she joins in, giving him a high five. Their laughter was interrupted by the clamor from the outside.

A simultaneous air of exasperation crossed their minds, briefly casting a glance at one another at the sight of the countless cameras pointing towards their direction, zeroing in on them like they were Sea World’s latest attraction.

They waved at the clicking cameras, building up practiced smiles.

“The only thing missing is a hoop for us to jump through,” Natalia joked, nearly flying away from the force of Carlos’ whack on her arm.

She concealed her laughter, gripping onto his bicep for mental support as Carlos failed to control the hideous snort coming out of his mouth.

To the people outside, Sea World bearing the most valuable and interesting creatures has took a turn to become a mental institute where, apparently, the patients were graciously yanking and hitting each other in the midst of terribly cloaked hysterics.

Heavy hands weighed in on the shoulders of said mental patients, each baring their own expression of terror as the turned their backs to the audience outside and onto Ferrari’s Team Principal.

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Fred quizzed, narrowing his gaze as he watched the merriment slowly melt away from their faces. “Natalia, Charles is asking for you. He’s in his drivers lounge?”

Without thinking, Natalia grimaced at the order. “In his driver’s lounge? Why does he need me—” She clamped her mouth shut, giving into the cutting glare staring into her soul. “Driver’s lounge. Got it!” Spinning around, zooming into the hall of the drivers lounge.

“What do you think?” Charles query was accompanied by a smirk of plume as he finished his pitch.

His company stood frigid, mouth twitching with her eyes on him. “I— I don’t—” A string of laughter erupted from her, doubling over as she struggled to regulate air.

Charles eyed her wildly amused figure crumple onto the floor, a smile slipping onto his face at the cheery atmosphere of his room.

“Is that even— allowed?” She managed to get out, look up at him and wiping away the tear pebbling at ducks.

Charles raises his hands, smirking at her. “It was your idea first!” He accused, pointing a finger at her.

She scoffed, getting to her feet before sitting down on the small bed of the driver’s room. “It was a joke!”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” He shrugged, grabbing his gloves in a compartment at the foot of his bed.

“No it doesn’t!” Natalia laughed again, head throwing back at the seriousness of Charles’ tone. “I am not making a montage of you with Usher’s Daddy’s home playing in the background!”

Charles gasp, laying a hand on his chest, feigning offense as he looked at her. “Oh come on!”

“No, you come on!” She retorted, as laughter continued to spill out of her mouth.

Reached towards the giggling body on the bed, placing his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Why not?” He mocked a whine, watching as her smile reached her eyes.

Even with protective gear on his hands, the warmth of her skin somehow found a way to seep onto his palms. As if the heat had crawled up in his brain, he pushed against her shoulders, relishing at the surprised squeak tumbling out her mouth as her back hit the mattress.

Her eyes blown into a pair of saucers, swallowing noticeably at the weight of his stare.

“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice sent delightful shivers down Charles’ ego.

He dug into the confinements of his restraint as her delicate palm laid on his chest. The feverish heat worsened as she made no effort to push him away, merely blinding him with those rich mahogany irises—pulling him into an endless stream of desire.

She looks at him as if she wanted her to know that he can’t have her. Boarded into place, backed into the corner with no where to go.

“Stop looking at me like that—” He whispers, baring a grit of his teeth.

Despite the constricting grip on her dazed state, Natalia responded, soft and lightheaded. “What?”

Exasperated, Charles dropped his head on her shoulder, not missing the slight flinch of her body as he inhaled the flowery scent of her clothing.

“You—” He started, breath fanning onto her ear as he lifted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me . . . Natalia,”

“We— we can’t. . .” She stuttered as conflicting thoughts troubled her mind. At Charles’ groan of protest, she shuts her eyes, hoping to gain enough composure.

And when she does, she cleared her throat, warding off the trembling sound of uncertainty.

“You know we can’t,” At the height of her sense, Charles woke up from the root of his fantasies, nodding his.

“Yes. . .” He mumbled, laying her chest, arms going around her waist. “I know— I know— I just— how about this—”

“Charles—” She sighed, ready to decline him.

He silenced her, rushing to overpower her voice. “If I win today, I take you out to dinner—” Seeing as she was about to intrude, he raised his palm up. “Just dinner. Nothing more. Just you and me.”

Her stiffening posture exuded hesitation, prompting Charles to rub comforting circles with his thumb on her waist.

Anxiety skyrocketed in her veins, her arm draped on Charles’ back, palm splayed. Like a broken record, the imaginative image of the past kept flashing in between the cracks of her current reality.

Charles grew concerned as her breath labored, hand suddenly clasping at the fabric of his fireproofs as if he’ll disappear if she releases him.

“Hey,” Charles cooed, immediately brushing her hair back after nervousness completely taking over her features. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His hand slid down to her cheek, stroking her paled skin, successfully catching her attention.

In a second, the withering blocks of emotion’s disappeared. In it’s place was a tired sigh, and a pat on Charles’ back.

He furrowed at the sudden change, and how quickly she threw away the deep seated thoughts troubling her mind.

“A lot.” She stated, licking her lips. “But if you insist, then — okay.”

The Monegasque stared at her, unblinkingly. Unsure what to make of the fast-paced situation.

He did want it. However, the droll in her voice withered the excitement he initially felt. Heaviness countered the supposed delight of his agenda.

It made him more curious and worried as to what had caused her to be that way. Natalia Valle was the embodiment of spilled sun rays when he first saw her interacting with the Toto Wolff in the Marcedes garage.

But looking at her now, all the bright twinkle in her eyes had been lost in a maze of darkness.

“Alright.” He assessed her disheveled state, slowly standing up. “I’ll see you after the race,”

Natalia managed a small smile, reaching her hand up for assistance. Charles took it, pulling her up into a sitting position. His hand tilted up her head, having her look him straight in the eyes.

“Do your best,” the glint of anticipation in her eyes were hard to ignore, as she took Charles’ wrist in a gentle hold.

They nearly jumped out of their skin as a loud knock echoed through the room.

“Charles! It’s time!” It was Nicolas.

The pair shared a look, Natalia baring a reassuring smile to Charles who gives her a thankful nod.

The realization of Natalia’s whereabout came crashing down in a high speed collision as the roaring of the engines resounded across the hall.

She was about to witness a Formula One race.

And even with the vicious claws of anxiety latching at her wits and thunderstorms forming clouds on her head, maybe—just maybe fulfilling her childhood dreams is enough to block everything out for just a moment.

The words; Lights out and away we go, seemed too long ago. The Ferrari garage bathed in chaos. Fred Vasseuer red faced, eyes wide with frustration coursing through his veins. Said veins could also be seen surfacing on the sides of his neck as he screams through his mic connected to the drivers’ ears.

On his feet, his hand slapped against the wooden table, creating a resounding bang that can be heard underneath the headphone-encapsulated ears of Natalia.

As one could tell, even from the stands, Ferrari was not having a great race.

“NO! NO!” Fred’s strident wail pierced Natalia’s ears, causing her to squint and move the left bud off her hearing premises.

She watched helplessly as the red Formula One car adorning the number 16 rounded the corner, before coming in contact with a bright orange McLaren.

Natalia’s heart felt like it would combust into a million pieces as it quickened at the sight of the collision. Through the fog of her aching head, she stepped forward to get a better view.

“Damage,” Dread filled her bones as the words came trembling. “I— think I have floor damage. . .”

Chills kissing at her fingertips, Natalia held them together close to her chest, seemingly like a silent prayer.

“Copy.” His engineer, Xavier Marcos Pardros responded. “Keep driving. We pit later.”

Silent pleas of betterment flooded Natalia’s brain as she watched Charles perform with a half-broken vehicle.

She wasn’t an expert on anything related to Formula One. No, however, she was aware that damages to the car commonly entails a bad omen which eventually leads to a retirement.

The tormenting suspense of what’s to come bit at Natalia’s sane conciliation, hands clutching at her sides. Her dilated eyes darted through the screen, focused on Charles’ car. His wheels were visibly wavering as the race dragged on. The extent of the damage slowly catching up to him.

“There’s no down force!” Natalia flinched at the strain in his voice.

A gloomy atmosphere manifested inside the garage as everyone received the words. The limit had been reached as the car was slowly losing its vivacious speed. He was deliberately losing control of the car and finally, as he turned, he drove directly onto a wall, a tire getting caught in the metallic borders of the track.

“You okay?” Xavi radioed.

“Yeah yeah—It’s a—sorry, guys—fuck. . .”

It was deafening, the silence. Only, excluding for the painful cries of self-loathing in resonating through Natalia’s headphones. She had to cover her eyes at the impact of the crash, as the pounding of her heart refused to settle down.

“Ah—fucking—FUCK!”

Natalia slid her headphones down to rest at her neck, hands shaking at the disappointment that echoed through Charles’ voice. She didn’t have the capacity to listen through the mournful anguish that flooded at her sympathy.

Without her headphones, she looked at the screen. A safety car has been deployed and the camera zoomed in on Charles climbing out the car. Frustration showing on his movements despite having a full body protective gear. He slammed his hands on the halo of his car as he stood up, before sliding his gloves off his hands, practically ripping them in the process.

“We focus on Sainz, now,” Fred droned, defeated as he molded back into his seat.

Charles couldn’t hear a thing aside from the organ protected by his ribcage pump at a merciless pace. His skin flushed underneath all the gear, as if it was weighing down his sanity further. His steps heavy as he strode to the Ferrari garage. A single thought crossing his mind.

There she sat, worry simmering at the pout of her lips, reflecting greatly with the dim clouding her eyes. As he neared her hunched form, she whipped around, gaping at him with an apologetic look on her face.

She was robbed of the chance to say something as he hauled her off her seat, strong grip on her arm. He dragged her with him, failing to take regard of Natalia’s worried glance at not only him, but most especially the pile of reporters crowding in front of the garage.

She tried to yank herself away from him but her strength was no match for his.

Xavi was quick to intervene just as they were out of the public eye.

“Charles!” He hissed, pulling at the angered Monegasque.

Natalia’s shock was as prominent as the tsunami of distaste cloaking Charles face. His brows pinned into a pointed stem, eyes shamelessly staring daggers and defeating Xavi’s own anger at the driver’s rash anger.

“Vous ne vous souciez pas de votre réputation?” Do you not care about your reputation? Xavi stressed, pushing at Charles’ chest as if to shake him back into rationality.

His loud scoff stabbed into Natalia’s hearing, causing her to wince. It differed entirely to whenever they were engaged in horseplay. The sweetened teasing was long gone, adamantly supplemented with bone-rattling fury.

“Ma réputation était foutue depuis longtemps!” My reputation was fucked long ago! He roared, retaliating with a hard shove of his own that sent Xavi propelling on the opposite wall.

“Charles!” Natalia shrieked, recovering from her frozen shock. “Calm the fuck down—” She went to check on the possibly injured man but the restraining grip on her arm contained her.

The protest died in her throat as the race engineer raised his hand, looking at her with reassuring ease. She was about to offer her more help but he simply upped and left like it was nothing.

Displeasure swam in her consciousness as Charles pulled her along with him to his room. He opened the door, urging her to sit down on her previous spot.

Like a controlled robotic figure, she complied. The energy to yell at him for his inappropriate behavior diminished as she came face to face with him.

Beneath the proper lighting, the marks left by his helmet scrawled lines onto his face. His tired eyes drooped in despair along with the noticeable sag of his shoulders as he arranged his racing gear.

Natalia observed he placed his helmet on the counter, fingers dragging on the shell, inducing a scrapping sound that matched his emotions.

He turned to face her, treading towards her in a slow manner. His knees hit the floor as he kneeled down to Natalia’s level.

Short puffs of breath lammed from her lungs at how little the expanse contained. She looked away, aware of the oddity in her stare.

“I didn’t win.”

The same disappointment lathered his tone but it was the arm he looped around her waist that caught her attention back to him.

She instantly wished she resisted the urge to look back as she was plowed down by his pleading crystalline orbs. Unable to tear her eyes from this hypnotic beauty, she wetted her chapped lips.

“That’s okay. . .” Natalia cringed at her weak assurance, but nonetheless weaved her fingers through his damp hair as if to compensate.

Charles flickered his eyes close as Natalia began to massage his scalp, the stress from the race draining away from his bones with every glide of her careful and dainty digits.

Natalia cocked her head to the side as Charles’ face relaxed, the lines on his forehead were no longer visible and his lips now rested into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” He grunted, tightening his grasp on her mid-section. “You’re gonna be all over the news.”

She bit her lips at the topic. Despite her awareness of the situation, she had completely ignored it, putting Charles’ ragging actions at a priority.

“They say things all the time,” She quipped, giving his brown locks a slight tug that got him to open his eyes and look into hers. The sincerity of his regret reflected in them. “At the very least, Toto being my alleged sugar daddy will finally stop. . .”

Charles knew that it was a prod to make him feel better, yet he took it without hesitation. His negative emotions were immediately dethroned at the sight of Natalia’s teasing smirk.

He bellowed out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. “You’d rather have them think the engagement rumors are true?”

She screwed her face up, whacking him on the shoulder. “No, I’m just saying, it’d be nice if people stirred away from that repulsing narrative.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked like a hooker,”

Her jaw slacked, staring him down in the most disbelieving light she could ever imagine.

“Fuck off!” She giggled, stopping the vibration of his shoulders by landing a sportive punch near his chest.

A moment passes before Charles gains the courage to part Natalia’s denim-clad thighs, watching her reaction as he went further.

Seeing as there was no discomfort in her eyes, he slotted himself between the warmth of her legs, arms bracing his left arm beside her thigh while the other retained on her waist.

“I’m still on for that dinner, if you’re good to go. . .” Natalia wondered, tilting her head at him.

“Are you?” He hummed, drawing innocent patterns on the skin of her waist.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of Charles’ touch. He had risen the knitted top Natalia had worn, leaving the exposed skin at his mercy.

“It’s just dinner.” Her firm determination amused Charles, giving her a reassuring smile.

“It is.” He confirmed. “But I’d rather order in— I’m not up to be roasted in public after today.”

Natalia sympathized with his decision, squeezing his shoulder in the hopes to comfort him. “Of course, I understand.” She taps his cheek, pinching it softly between her finger.

Staying here would be the most logical option.

Her attempt to stand was quickly halted, as Charles’ arm on her waist pulled her back down.

A glint of confusion painted on both their features for different reasons.

“Where you going?”

“You said you wanted to order in.” She blinked owlishly at him, trying to figure out the miscommunication.

“I do.” He said, striking her with one of his compelling looks. “So, tell me what you want to eat,”

The wheeled dinged in Natalia’s bemused thoughts, nodding her head as she began to understand his implications.

“Oh—Oh! With me!” She amassed, as if assuring herself. At Charles’ validation, she started to think about her choice. “I’m not very good at picking specific food. I only look at the description and hope for the best, really.”

Charles smiled at her sheepish expression, bobbing his head in understanding. “Alright. I’ll order for you then.”

He got to his feet, shocking Natalia as he began unzipping his race suit.

She immediately looked away, face warming at the abrupt action. Shifting her gazing anywhere aside from the man appearing to be planning to undress in front of her.

Natalia swore she could hear the annoying smile growing on his lips as he said, “Relax I’m not taking my clothes off here. I still have to get an ice bath. We’ll go after.”

“Yeah— wait. . . Hold on, go where?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Charles stalked to the door, laying his hand on the knob. His gaze lingered at Natalia’s, adoring the boiling thoughts evidently stowing in her eyes.

“Where else? At my apartment, of course.”

Oh— order in!

“You didn’t think we’d stay here all night, did you?”

Yes, she did. Embarrassingly so.

“Shut up, English isn’t my first language.” She grunted, hoping to save face.

Unsurprisingly, Charles crushed it as easily. Laughing at her futile attempt. “Mine too.”

She sighed, shooing him away. “Go jump in your ice water or whatever.”

Laughter rang through the halls as he opened the door, smile broadening at her crimson dusted cheeks.

He sent her a wink before leaving her to her own cluttered thoughts. She caught herself mapping out the possible scenarios that could take place in Charles’ apartment, weaving away from the inappropriate scenes flaunting in the premise of her own deliberations.

As she sunk herself deeper in the captivity of her brain, she fell short in noticing the coffin she had built herself into. Her abysmal empathy for Charles made her overlook the blaring details of her hesitance to join him for a meal— let alone be in his personal space.

Entering Charles’ apartment flared the consigned fear etched onto her senses. It wasn’t Charles that she feared. On the contrary she was afraid of compromising her self control more than anything else.

Lucky for her, the man in her thoughts share the same predicament as he sat rigidly in a tub of freezing water, plagued with similar impure thoughts running laps in his head. There was no doubt at all that Toto Wolff would castrate him alive and impale his head on a pike if he were to ever hear them.

Taglist: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @janeholt3

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asaka-lucy-dr-rc · 2 months

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RAIN CODE Fan Meeting Report ①

Around the first reading play of the daytime program.

This is part 1 of a series of a highlight of the fan meeting event that took place in Tokyo on March 17, 2024. There were so many interesting parts that I am not sure how many parts I will finish, but I think I will post at least two more. ⚠️This is a long post! Please read this only if you have the time.

Before the show begins:

When the show started, Yuma's voice called out to the audience, but I thought it was just a recorded voice playing, so I listened quietly. Then he hesitantly shouted "H-Hello!" again, and I finally realized that I had to answer him. (Sorry I didn't notice sooner, Yuma!) I answered out loud, but there were quite a few people clapping back. (JP fans are a little too shy XD)

Then, after the lights went dark, Katsumi Fukuhara, the VA of Yuma, and Sayumi Suzushiro, the VA of Shinigami, appeared on the stage.

A reenactment of the scene where Yuma first meets Shinigami on the Amaterasu Express began. The first part must have been almost exactly the same as the dialog in the game: Shinigami waking up Yuma, Yuma learning that he is an amnesiac, Shinigami identifying himself, and so on.

There was a scene in which Shinigami got upset with Yuma because he did not call her name properly. (I don't know how it is translated in the English version of RAIN CODE, but Shinigami gets upset when Yuma doesn't call her “Shinigami-chan”.)

Yuma tried to cheer up Shinigami's mood, but it doesn't work out. Then Shinigami suggested:

Here, the audience side brightens up and Shinigami said, "See how many there are!". Yuma noticed the audience, then said “Oh, hi!” and waved to the audience, a little hesitantly.

(Actually the people on the stage are the VAs, but for clarity I have replaced them with characters.) Many in the audience waved back, but there were a few who clapped back at this scene as well. (JP fans tend to clap anyway. XD)

Yuma then asked the audience for help. (Sorry, the art above and the art below are not properly connected, because my memory is pretty fuzzy on what happened between them!)

I don't remember exactly why Shinigami's line in that part got that way, but I'm pretty sure she was telling the audience, "I haunt you guys perfectly! (バッチリみんなに憑いてるよ！)". (Her lines are hard to translate! 😅 You might think it's a weird translation, but it's a weird line originally, so I hope you can guess what it is).

After that, there was a little exchange, and then Yuma exclaimed: "We're in the washroom of car number 1…, no, we're in Hikousen Theater!!!" (Hikousen Theater is the actual venue where the event took place). The performance ended when Yuma realized that he had actually fainted in the waiting room of the Hikousen Theater and called for the MC. (I'm not sure why the location was changed when it said the Amaterasu Express on the screen, but I guess it was done to make it easier for the audience to understand that the exchange was the same as the one in the Amaterasu Express in the game).

Then the MC appeared and the VAs introduced themselves. When it was Sayumi Suzushiro’s turn, she asked the audience to say “kawaii (cute)” while performing Shinigami's voice. And again, the audience calls out as they did earlier:

Both Katsumi Fukuhara and Sayumi Suzushiro performed perfectly, and I was very impressed that they spoke exactly the same as the characters in the game! I don't know how much they practiced, but it was really nice to see their performance in real time!

#my art #rain code #rain code's fan meeting #yuma kokohead #shinigami

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strikethematch18 · 28 days

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Of Sleep, Humanity, and Tainted Sorrow

Instead Of Sleep Universe (IOSU)

Dazai x F! Reader, Dazai x Chuuya, Dazai x F! Reader x Chuuya

Word Count: 2,696

This is an offshoot of my Bungou Stray Dogs oneshot Instead of sleep, I like to call this the Instead of Sleep Universe. While this could probably be read as a standalone, I would not recommend it. I’ll make sure to link the original. Instead of Sleep

To recap: Reader is a member of the ADA with an ability called Instead of Sleep which allows her hot project her current exhaustion onto someone else and enter their dreamscape, or subconscious. Her ability only works if she is tired beforehand and suffers from extreme insomnia because of this. “Instead of Sleep” ability is loosely based on the Ao3 tag “I wrote this instead of sleeping”

The original ship was just Dazai x Reader, but I’m a greedy indulgent little shit with a love for why choose books so this installment is Dazai and Chuuya with Reader.

This has not been proofed or edited. I am also considering writing a second part.

m.list

The relationship started with just you and Dazai, you thought it was monogamous, you thought it was just the two of you, faithful to each other. So, when you found out you were "the other woman" you were actually heartbroken beyond belief. Not only were you unable to sleep because of your ability, but you were unable to eat, you took up cases left and right and going home to change and stare at your ceiling most nights; sometimes your coworkers would come into the office the next morning to find you in the same position you were in when they left, at your desk doing your work but also nearly everyone else's too.

Every member of the agency tried in their own way to get you to settle, relax, eat at least a little something, or take a small nap. Well, all except for Dazai, he had tried in the beginning but your kept your distance as much as possible. Ranpo would leave snacks or force them into your hand. Yosano would drag you to the infirmary after a laborious case under the guise of a checkup but would make you lay there for a minimum of 30 minutes if you didn't manage to fall asleep for at least some rest. Junichiro and Kenji both trying to brighten your mood with jokes or tales from home. Kyouka would place the stuffed bunny she kept on her desk in your lap if she noticed you were fiddling with your hands more than usual and seemed anxious. Atsushi even guided you to an open section of the office a few times where he arranged the futon kept in the office for just in case scenarios, would force you down, and would turn into Byakko for you to contently sigh and curl into the tiger and at least run your fingers through the fur and let the tension slip from your shoulders and occasionally your eyes droop until you'd fall into a small slumber, that was about as much sleep as you would get. The president on more than one occasion would try to send you home and to not come back until you rested, but you both knew it was fruitless cause.

This carried on until eventually you had passed out from the lack of care your body was receiving on top of falling sick and found yourself in the hospital for a week and a half. When you woke up early in your stay there was Dazai in a chair pulled up next to your bed with his head in his hands and a certain redhead mafia executive leaning in the doorway to your room.

Come to find out, Dazai was bisexual and was interested in a polyamorous relationship and was working up the nerve to tell you about it and his relationship with Chuuya. He knew he never should have entered that relationship with you without you explicitly knowing. And was he ever sorry, seeing your weakened state and how much smaller you looked in that hospital bed amplified that. He stayed away because it's what he thought you wanted, that you were disgusted, never did he think you were going to find yourself sick in the hospital.

And well, Chuuya at the time was indifferent. Sure, the Mackeral should have done a lot different, but he didn't know you as well as he did Dazai. He did know you through Osamu, he knew details about you; hell he kept pestering Dazai to tell you early on so save both of you from the pain; he didn’t know things had gotten this bad. He didn't know you, but he wanted to, especially after he saw your smile and heard your laugh for the first time, even more so when it was over a piece of commentary regarding something dumb his ever so smart partner had just said.

Over time, your relationship with Dazai repaired and grew with Chuuya. Eventually, you found yourself in the best relationship you could ever hope to be in. Sincerely loved by both men and spoiled beyond belief, you didn't think you deserved it but were grateful you did. Most nights you spent in-between the two, curled into Dazai with Chuuya wrapped behind you; in fact most nights you actually got at least a few hours of peaceful sleep - this was the most rested you had been in years.

That's part of why you were worried when a joint mission with the ADA and Port mafia required the once double black to team up for a mission that was going to take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. Despite the usual efficiency between the two on missions, this was week three without them. You had managed to sleep maybe a collected 8 hours during that time. The three of you called regularly, sometimes it was enough to lull you into a light sleep but it never lasted a full hour. You would try to assure them that, yes you were getting some rest, but both men could hear the exhaustion in your tone as you tried to pretend for their sake.

So, when during one of your calls during a day you had off and you were sniffling and your voice sounded just a bit off, Dazai and Chuuya knew they had to finish this mission and finish it now. Of course they asked what was wrong and if anything happened just to make sure that wasn't the problem and you said you were sure it was just allergies despite it raining, it became clear to them your immune system had taken a hit. Which per past events, a simple cold had the high probability of moving downhill quickly.

You never had a particularly strong immune system, lack of proper rest tends to weaken its defense and ability to recover. By the end of the call you had let the coughs you were trying to hide slip and your voice was rougher than when the conversation started and you sounded absolutely exhausted. Keeping up the facade proved to be hard as the time went on.

This was more than enough to get double black to act quickly and end this. They had more than enough to report and act on. If their new plan went the way it was supposed to they would be back to you by tomorrow morning. By the evening hours the mission was completed, their bags were packed and Dazai and Chuuya were on a train back to Yokohama. Paperwork was done on the journey back and dropped off at its respected location before they made the trip back to mafia executives apartment where all three of you have been living. Dazai had made sure to tell shachou both of you wouldn't be in today or tomorrow, longer depending on how sick you were. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when he heard you were sick and told the brunette to not worry about coming back until you were in peak health, either of you. He knew Dazai was imperative to your recovery, sleep is a powerful medicine and you rarely got any without the detective.

After completing those quick tasks they met each other at the red heads building simultaneously and and hurried up the floors to reach the apartment. Getting ready to put the key into unlock the door both could hear a chesty cough and both looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Honey, we're ho-ome~!" Dazai announced sing songedly.

"Welcome back you two," you replied hoarsely before falling into the fit of coughs and slight wheezes.

Spotting you sat huddled in the corner of the sectional couch wrapped in the largest and fluffiest blanket they owned, Chuuya dropped his bag where he stood and made his way over to you. Watching you try to catch your breath worried him beyond belief as it reminded him of when you first officially met in that hospital room.

Placing his hand your forehead his frown deepened, "Oh lovebug."

Coughing a few more times you replied, "Sorry Chu."

"It's not your fault lovebug, let's get some medicine in you and get you in bed, okay?" Without giving you a choice he tugged you towards him before slipping an arm under your knees and the other on your back and lifting you up blanket and all. Dazai didn't miss the soft smile creeping onto his partners face as you nuzzled into Chuuya, relishing in the affection you've been deprived of the last few weeks. Wordlessly he made his way to the bathroom medicine cabinet and grabbed everything needed before walking into the shared bedroom and setting them down before preparing to change clothes. Osamu knew Chuuya was going to hold you and keep you to himself for a few minutes so you knew he was really there and to assure himself you were safe, so it gave him ample time to get things together. Taking off his typical ensemble and putting on a pair of charcoal sweatpants and pulling the navy t-shirt on just as Chuuya brought you into room, he got his first actual look at how exhausted and sick you looked. You seemed miserable and in more pain than he originally thought, but most importantly, you were so tired. And he knew better than to touch you until medicine has been taken.

That was the next action of business. Get you to take the multitude of medications he procured from the cabinet. He knew you were weak and feeling horrible but you never liked taking things, so often it was a fight. Nonetheless he proceeded to place each pill in a small cup for the pass off. If he so much as brushed your hand he knew you would be asleep almost instantly. And while sleep would help, it wouldn't be enough to get you back to peak health, not without the medicine. In the cup was a few vitamins, a decongestant, a cough reducer and something to hopefully bring your fever down. Currently placed in his pocket was your emergency inhaler left over from when you were able to come home from the hospital from before you had reconciled with him and your other lover.

Seeing the pills in a cup and small glass of water in his partners hand waiting to be handed to you Chuuya took the liberty of sitting on the side of the bed leaving you in his lap. Surprisingly but also unsurprisingly, you gingerly and gratefully took the cups into your slightly shaking hands to take the medicines. At least Dazai had the foresight to start off with the pills rather than any liquids, he knew you hated taking medicine in liquid form.

Noticing a slight bulge in Dazais pants pocket he asked, "Is that the inhaler?"

Glad his partner got the hint he confirmed it was before Chuuya took it upon himself to reach in and take it out while Dazai took the empty cups from your hands, longing to touch you but restraining. After looking at you Chuuya couldn't help but see how much these simple actions took out of you, exhaustion wearing you thin. Even keeping your head up was a struggle. He knew the inhaler could help, anything to help your lungs breathe better and decrease your wheezes. But he also knew you had very little strength left.

"Okay lovebug, we're going to tag team this, you know the drill," After getting the inhaler placed he counted down from 3 and pressed down to release the medicine.

You couldn't hold it in for long, forced to release a painful cough into your lovers chest, "Sorry Chuu," your hoarse voice rang out quietly.

"Bug its okay, you're sick and that was inevitable."

"I know. Just don't want you to get sick."

Coming back into the room after exiting the en suite bathroom Dazai chimed in, "We've got immune systems of steel we'll be fine. And if we're not we'll have the cutest nurse to take care of us."

Too tired to let out even a small laugh you smiled and responded, "yeah, I guess you're right.”

Chuuya went ahead and did a second dose of the inhaler, much like a similar response to before. After taking a coughing fit that had both men concerned for you wellbeing, they looked at each other reading each others minds as to whether or not they should take you to the hospital.

Half lidded, you looked at both of their faces and knew immediately what was on their minds, “I know what you two are thinking, and no, I’m not going to the hospital.”

”But love, you’re really sick, we’re just worried,” Dazai expressed wanting nothing more than to cup your cheek in his hand

”If-,” you began before coughing again, “If I get worse then you can take me. But I really just want to sleep first.”

Both men collectively sighed, in sync with each other after years of partnership. They knew any further arguing would be fruitless, also aware that they would have a hard time saying no to you when you were this sick and they had been away for the last few weeks.

Noticing the silence and your boys downtrodden faces you decided to break the silence, “So how was the mission, any issues? Take names? Kick ass?”

They knew what you were doing, and any other time they would have enlightened your antics, but chuuya could feel some of the fight leave your body as fatigue set in from the exhaustion and unconsciously knowing you were in a safe position. And so he gave you a small response to motivate you for later.

”You know I don’t kick any asses but yours and the shitty fish over here,” he smirked, “But I did kick some other things if you catch my drift.”

Before you had the time to continue your stalling tactic, wanting to spend time with Dazai and Chuuya that you had missed over the last few weeks, the later placed you in the middle of the bed so you would be between the both of you, as you were most nights. Dazai carefully pulled the blankets up so all either man had to do before crawling in to cuddle you from either side was pull their side of the corner back enough. While he did that, Chuuya changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of pajama pants, and a silly t-shirt you had gotten him early into your relationship that he was too proud to admit out loud that it was his favorite thing in his closet next to his signature hat. After his quick change, the redhead crawled in behind you, not quite around your body like the koala he is just yet- he was waiting for you to settle yourself with Dazai who was turning out lights around the apartment.

Looking at both his lovers waiting for him expectantly, one smiling with a dopey grin, and the other with flushed cheeks and glossy, tired eyes, he couldn’t help but want to relish in the moment but run to both of them for some well deserved rest at the same time. He sauntered over to his side of the bed, gently pulling back the covers and climbing in. Wiggling his eye brows, opening his arms to welcome you, you giggled lightly and rolled your eyes before you inched your way into them. He became inpatient and proceeded to pull you closer against him, not missing the small pout from the man on the other side of your now aware of the gap between the two of you causing the brunette to smirk.

Sighing in contentment at finally having you in his arms, your head to his chest, Dazai smiled down at your face, admiring your beauty even when you were so sick. He waited for Chuuya to settle around you before he expressed ‘love yous’ to both of you. Osamu could tell you were seconds away from sleep as he kissed your forehead, officially activating his ability, as you begun some of the best sleep you swear was the best in your entire life.

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mxlktxa · 1 year

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𝒂 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒚

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝒄𝒘; 𝒏/𝒂

♡˗ˏ🍰໒

“Why’re you so far, babe?”

I was ripped from my thoughts, heading spinning in the direction of Ellie’s voice. Her face barely said it but her body language exposed her as worried and confused at my behavior. I wouldn’t blame her, I’d been a little off for the past few days.

“Hm?” I gave a short reply, raising my brows to add a little bit of emotion for her. That’s when I had just now realized we were both on opposite sides of the couch, Ellie on one end with her journal and me just curled up on the other end, in my own little world.

“C’mere. I miss you,” she whispered, hand rubbing the empty space beside her. My eyes followed her hand movement then meeting her beautiful green eyes after a bit of me admiring her hand, “I don’t bite, Y/N. Not unless you ask me to.”

“Oh, shut up, Ellie,” moving closer to her, a sweet smooch was placed on her shoulder in order to hide the smile I had on display, “you literally bit me once because I said I loved you and stared at you for all of two seconds.”

“Yeah, which in reality meant ‘hey, baby, please bite me after we hold eye contact because I love you that much’,” Ellie kissed my temple, chuckling lightly at our little conversation.

I had resided in Ellie’s home for a few days now, trying to get myself back on my feet, emotionally and mentally. Just a few days ago, I had gotten into a pretty bad argument with Jesse and Dina, both of them saying some pretty harsh things they clearly regretted saying. It took a huge toll on me, so I just hid away in Ellie’s bed and/or arms, down in the dumps.

"I'm so fed up with this, Els. So fed up," I muttered. Our hands collided, Ellie bringing my hand up to her lips, soothing pecks resting on my skin, those loving lips leading up my arm until she reached my shoulder.

Ellie continued to kiss up to my neck, hands finding my thighs, groping and squeezing every now and again, nearly silent grunts leaving her as she continued her attempts to get my mind off of what had been bothering me. As much as I wanted her to do plenty of vulgar things to me, I couldn't bring myself to actually get in the mood for such activities.

"Not right now, I'm sorry. I just... I can't get there."

"No, no, I'm sorry. I should've asked you first," Ellie backed away, seeming a bit desperate yet considerate, "come lay down, babe. You could use a nap."

"I'm not tired, Ellie."

"Yes. Yes, you are," her hands attempted to bring me to my feet by tugging at my waist, failing after a while though she never tried to use all her force to stand me up. Ellie was always and definitely is strong enough to move me but right now she just didn't want to irritate me anymore than I already appeared to be.

"What if I played something for you?"

I instantly perked up, glancing to meet her enthusiastic eyes. She chuckled and crossed the room to grab the guitar Joel had gifted her as well as her chair, placing it in front of the bed and sitting down comfortably. My eyes flashed between Ellie, the bed, and the guitar, slowly gaining the courage to stand and so Ellie would play and sing for me. Her alluring, emerald eyes seemed to brighten, ecstatic that I was moving from the couch to the mattress she begged me to lay on.

"Atta girl, get in there," she reassured me, rubbing my knee as I lied down in front of her, "get comfy, I know you're going to fall asleep either during or after this."

"No, I'm not."

Ellie raised her brows as if to ask me if I was serious. We both knew she was right... I just liked to be stubborn, nothing else. I got beneath the covers, hugging the pillow Ellie usually held onto in her sleep, observing as she settled into a certain position so she could play her instrument for me.

"Will you fall asleep with me after?" I requested, biting my lip in hopes of her agreeing or winking at me as she usually did when I popped that question. Of course, she winked taking in a deep breath before she officially began to distract me with her caroling of Take On Me.

Her voice was soft and comforting, as per usual, instantaneously sending me into a lethargic frame of mind. A mushy grin was the only thing to keep me from really passing out on her.

Ellie was always just a safe place for me to run to before and even after we had gotten to become a couple. I was the same to her but of course when she needed me, she was just so monotone and nonchalant about her problems until I noticed her demeanor. She always picked at her hands or lips, bounced her knee, and was slightly shaky as if she were just agitated with everyone and everything.

Everything started to muffle for me and my vision blurred while my body just felt beyond informal. I hated when she was right, even if I did back her up on her statements. I just wished she was at least more than halfway through the song when I was starting to shut down.

Damn you, Ellie. But, oh... Do I love you with all my heart. What I wouldn't give in order to give you all the comfort and happiness you give me. I couldn't be more grateful.

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slippinmickeys · 5 months

Note

Prompt:

Mulder & Scully vacation Christmas/Hanukah at the Quonochontaug cabin post season 11

I got such wonderful prompts right before Christmas, and I was halfway through several of them when my kiddo ended up in the ER with the flu, and then my family and I all succumbed one by one. We’re finally at full strength, and I hope to fill each prompt you all sent at some point. Hopefully this festive one isn’t too late to enjoy.

Scully looked up at the constellations rising up above the line of the house’s roof, Orion standing just along the edge of the ridge cap, shooting his arrow into the onyx horizon. The Anishinaabe called him ‘The Wintermaker,’ and on this, the solstice, the longest night of the year, she could feel the chill he brought with him. She shivered, and pulled up the neck of her coat.

“Sorry,” Mulder apologized from below the lintel. “The lock’s pretty sticky. Hasn’t been opened in a while.”

“Wasn’t the caretaker supposed to get here before us and turn on the heat?”

“The ‘caretaker,’” Mulder said on a grunt as he pushed his shoulder into the now unlocked, water-swollen door, “is an eighteen year old kid still in high school. I think we’re lucky the place is even still standing.”

The darkened maw of the summer home stood open before them, and Scully, having only been into the house twenty years before with the whole of the Kingstown police department at her back, took a hesitant step inside.

“This is a summer town, Mulder,” she said, looking around dubiously as Mulder felt around the wall for the light switch. “Don’t they have a service you can employ?”

“‘Summer’ being the operative word,” he replied on a click, flooding the room with light. “In the dead of winter, the Quonochontaug labor pool isn’t exactly flush with candidates. I think we’ll be lucky if the trash bin isn’t full of empty Stoli bottles and dead soldiers.”

Scully made a face of distaste.

“Ah,” he said, blinking into the sudden brightness. “Actually looks pretty good in here. And I think the heat is on. Maybe I should give Logan a raise.”

Mood brightened, Mulder’s eyes rove around the room, all knotty pine paneling and 70’s decor. He reached out and ran a hand down her arm, smiling.

“Why don’t you take a seat,” he said, leading her over to an avocado green davenport. “Put up your feet. I’ll bring in the bags.”

“I’m pregnant, Mulder,” she said, rubbing a hand over the swell of her stomach. “Not incapacitated.”

He gave her a sheepish grin.

“Still,” he said, and she capitulated. It’s not like they had all that much luggage. She wasn’t comfortable flying in the third trimester, and so she eschewed her usual trip to San Diego to do Christmas with what remained of the Scully clan. Mulder had suggested spending the holiday at the house in Rhode Island and here they were, alone for a week in the dead of winter in a summer house.

“When was the last time you stayed here?” she asked, wrinkling her sensitive nose at the smell of dust, of mildew.

One suitcase on the floor at his feet, one still in his hand, Mulder closed the door behind him, his face ponderous. “Overnight?” he clarified. “I think I was nineteen?”

She imagined Mulder just before twenty, lifeguarding on the local beach by day. He’d have ropey muscles, suntanned skin—all the energy of youth, the metabolism of a racehorse. She preferred the thicker, more mature version before her, though his hairline was thinning and his knees ached at night; the version of him who lit candles for her in a church.

In the linen closet, they found flaxen pouches filled with brittle lavender tucked amongst the sheets, and they made the queen-sized bed in the back bedroom, the eiderdown quilt puffing up nicely with a few vigorous shakes.

Once settled—pajamas donned, teeth brushed, Scully found she didn’t have to move far in the bed to settle into Mulder’s side, the round of her stomach resting on his belly, her leg thrown over his. She’d barely be able to roll over without falling off, and she was pretty certain Mulder’s feet were hanging about four inches off the end.

“Your parents fit in this bed?” she asked him dubiously. “Both of them?”

He pet her hair, pressed a kiss into it. “It was a different time.”

Scully thought back to those sepia toned days and pictured the Mulder family summering here; the sliding door open to the Sound, the Eagles on the radio, cigarettes hanging out of everyone’s mouth. She saw Samantha on the beach in pigtails, Mulder reading a pulp novel in an Adirondack. There would have been Tupperware jugs of lemonade on the picnic table outside, the commodore of the yacht club dropping by for a gin and tonic.

She sighed. It was indeed a different time. Nowadays, puddles didn’t freeze in December and Fox was the only Mulder left.

She rubbed her stomach gently. Maybe not the last.

He shifted his arm until it was more comfortably under her neck and sighed into the crown of her head.

“I thought we could go get you a Christmas tree tomorrow,” he said. “There’s a farm nearby where you can cut your own.”

The idea sounded eye-wateringly quaint.

“We don’t have ornaments,” she pointed out, picturing a plain green tree taking up a corner of the small living room. She wasn’t really fighting the concept, merely tempering his expectations.

“We can get lights at the drugstore. We’ll make popcorn strings or something,” he mumbled. “I’m sure there’s some fishing line in the garage.”

The corner of the living room took on a cheerful air in Scully’s imagination, a small tree with bright white lights, a jaunty fire popping under the mantle. The smell of fresh pine would do wonders for the stale air.

“Sounds nice,” she smiled.

Mulder gave her a happy squeeze.

“I’ll get up early and pick up groceries,” he said with rising enthusiasm. “Hot cocoa and eggnog. Maybe some sparkling grape juice for you and the little one for New Years?”

It was sweet how hard he was trying.

“We may need something other than beverages,” she said pragmatically.

“Pancake mix,” he went on, his exuberance not waning in the least. “Or oh, how about those cinnamon rolls in a can?”

“Perfect,” she said, chuckling. Her eyes were getting scratchy with fatigue.

Mulder sighed happily, squeezed her again, probably assembling a grocery list in his head.

Silence settled over them and Scully could hear the surf crashing into the shore, the wind buffeting the eaves. The sounds were cold, but her thoughts were warm, and as her body drifted toward sleep, she pictured Mulder holding up a small child to put a listing star on the top of a tree, Mulder walking a toddler through the dune grasses, pudgy fingers gently clasped in the bowls of his hands. She imagined filling this old house with happier memories than it had seen in years.

“Hey Mulder,” she said, her voice slurry with lassitude.

“Mm?” he hummed.

“Get real champagne for New Years,” she said, wanting to toast this second chance. “We can handle half a glass.”

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #prompt

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turvi · 1 year

Text

My Girl

GIF NOT MINE CREDITS TO THE OWNER

Pairings: George Weasley x Reader, Draco x Reader (slight)

A/N: He looks so beautiful here thanks to whoever made this GIF I love it. Also, REBLOGS and FEEDBACKS are appreciated.

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I woke up with the sun hiding behind the clouds I instantly noticed that it might rain today. I opened the window and the smell of rain and pleasant weather instantly brightened my mood. Yes, it's definitely the weather that has my mood brightened up and not the fact that I spent last night talking nonsense with George Weasley.

It's not like I have never seen him around in fact it's like he is everywhere but I never thought I would have a conversation with George Weasley let alone enjoy it. It's not like he is a bad person but the fact that I always identified him as the other twin. He was just in the background in my life. I never thought we would have so much in common even after the fact that my family is one of the most powerful families like the Malfoys and I am a Slytherin.

I get up from my bed reluctantly. I have to face my reality. With the new day, I am no longer Y/n who makes bad jokes, loves hugging, and loves singing off-key. Today I am Y/n L/n, she has to maintain her family's reputation. She will marry Draco Malfoy and tolerate his snarky comments, and his flirtations with other girls. Just sit there like a doll and take jabs from life without shedding a single tear. I know my fate. My mother and my grandma shared the same fate. Their husbands sharing their beds with everyone but them.

As I walked down the stairs I noticed George and Fred in the hallway laughing. I crave the life they have, the family they have. Unfortunately, George looks up at the same time I was looking at him and I walk past him fast. Like last night never happened. He kept calling my name and I kept ignoring him like it didn't hurt my heart to act like nothing happened.

I quickly hide behind a pillar so that he loses my trail. I want to tell him how sorry I am, how much I enjoyed our conversation last night, and how if circumstances would have been different I would have let him hold me. I hope he hates me because my fate won't let me love him. George Weasley will hate me and I will have to live with it

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George's POV

Y/n avoided me like she never me told her deepest fears, things she hated, things she liked. I should have seen this coming. Everyone warned me but I still went after her.

People will call me stupid for the decision I am about to make but I don't want to have regrets in my life. So I devised a plan with Freddie. The best part? He loved it. She might hate me if I do this but I will hate myself more if I don't. But I can't give up on Y/n not until she personally tells me to.

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Y/n's POV

I walk to my dorm and lost track of Draco mid-day. I don't know how am I supposed to spend my life with him when he is not even willing to try just a bit. As I open the door I saw a bouquet of calla lilies on my bed. I picked it up and noticed a note attached to it.

My Dearest Y/n,

You have given me the greatest gift. Gift of getting to know you. I want to return the favor. Please please come to the courtyard at 8:00 pm. I'll wait for you with your gift.

PS: It is something that reminds me of you

Yours

Forge

I couldn't help but smile. He actually listened to every word I said. He is making it hard for me to distance myself from him. He was supposed to hate me. Well alright, I am going to give him an ultimatum that I can no longer be around him.

-----------------------

I quickly make up an excuse after dinner to Draco why I won't be joining him. He waves me off. Tears brimmed my eyes. I tried, I really did but I just don't know what I did to deserve a fate like this.

I got up and went to the courtyard immediately to see George peeking from behind a pillar.

"Thank you for the flowers, George. They were really pretty"

"How did you know I sent the flowers?" he says finally showing himself

I chuckle "It was just a wild guess, also your handwriting is bad"

He slowly made his way towards me "Hi"

"Hi, where is my gift"

He looked at his watch and took my hand and started running.

"Where are we going, George?"

"Don't worry love I am not running away with you....... not yet just wait and watch"

He leads me towards the empty ground, whomping willow just meters away.

"I don't understand"

He points toward the sky and soon it is filled with glowworms. I notice Fred and Lee Jordon hiding behind the bushes waving at me. I look back at George to find him already looking at me.

"Glowworms remind you of me?"

"Well you see how they go so well with the night I think you are the glowworm to my night."

He got closer and nudged my nose. I instantly backed away the hurt in his eyes shattering my heart.

"We can't George"

He took my hand and looked into my eyes "I am willing to fight for this Y/n, I feel what we have is going to be very special and I will be an idiot if I let go of this, but I can't fight if you don't feel the same"

"George my parents will not agree, I have always listened to what they say.... but not anymore I really tried to be good with Draco and it has led me to nowhere, I won't let go of the chance of being with someone who actually cares about me so George Fabien Weasley would you like to be my boyfriend and if the chance comes up run away with me?"

He looks at me slackjawed and slowly cups my face "Yes". He peppers my face with his kisses.

"Y/N L/N IS MY GIRLFRIEND" he yelled at the glowworms

"GEORGE NOO" I held him back

"Oh wait I haven't kissed you properly love"

With that, he pressed his lips to mine holding me closer and making me forget my promise to myself as he kissed me passionately.

#Spotify #golden trio era #george weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #george fabian weasley #gryffindor x slytherin #george weasley x slytherin reader #draco x reader #draco fanfiction #draco angst #george weasley fluff #harry potter series

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jesssssssssica · 1 year

Text

slipping through my fingers j.b

(a/n: it's not taylor sorry guys!!!!! hopefully it's still good anyway!!!)

today was an emotional day, nellie was turning three. as soon as i woke up, i could feel the tense atmosphere. i reached to judes side of the bed and patted it, to find nothing but a warm mattress, signalling that he had not long gotten up.

i knew jude would be feeling scared for today, his little girl now being an official threenager. he always got emotional about nellie and her life achievements and maybe that's due to missing the birth and having to see her for the first time via facetime, either way big milestones always made him sad.

i walk past all the rooms upstairs, peeking my head in just in case he's in it but i'm sure he's in our three year olds bedroom. and i'm right, he's hovering over her as she sleeps, his fingers brushing her cheeks, whispering words that from where i'm stood i can't make out.

i walk up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, putting my face on his back.

"jude," my voice says softly "what are you doing out of bed so early?"

he turns his head slightly to look at me but it's short lived as he quickly turns back to nellie.

"she's three"

that's all he says yet i understand what he means by that. he means that times gone by so quickly. he means that he feels that soon he'll lose her and while she's still only young, he now only comes to grasps how quickly time goes.

even i can admit how fast time flies.

i go to leave the room but his words stop me from leaving.

"she's slipping through my fingers and i'm struggling to keep up to date with everything she's doing or i try to at least because when i think i know what her little mind is up to, she's already changed and grown"

by the time he's done with his words, i'm close to tears, now actually getting a glimpse into what's going on in judes mind.

i turn him around and look into his eyes. they look painful and i give him a kiss, hoping that would brighten his spirits just he littlest amount.

we then lull her out of her sleep and take her downstairs so she can enjoy her birthday breakfast. she's laughing and giggling the whole morning as we present her gift after gift, as this happens jude quickly comes out of his melancholy mood, smiling with his little girl.

my perfect family.

this makes me question what happened to the late nights where we constantly woke up to nellie and her cries? it was hard work but it was all worth it in the end, even making me and jude stronger as the days progressed. i also wonder where the time went, and how we didn't manage to do everything we planned to do whilst she was still young.

only now do i understand jude truly.

how many pictures am i going to have to take for me to remember it all and to capture every minute? it's not like we can read her mind because every time we think we've got it she's already different.

she's just slipping through our fingers and i just wish i could freeze the moment and have her be small and in my arms forever. but i can't.

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #abba #slipping through my fingers

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lythea-creation · 2 months

Text

Brighten My World - Tasneem x fem reader (Chapter 4)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

warnings: threatening, mentions of toxic parent

word count: 1.210

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“Hey, (f/n). Why have I never been over at your house?”, Tasneem wondered on our way to eat lunch.

She was feeling more confident with eating around me by now and I was always right there if her mind was trying to trick her.

“Um … I dunno. I guess it just never happened”, I supposed. “You didn't miss out on anything though.”

“I know you talked to my mom”, she confessed.

I stared at her with wide eyes, not daring to say anything as I was waiting for her to elaborate.

She pushed my shoulder playfully, making me stumble a step to the side. “Don't look at me like that! It's all good. She actually apologized to me. She told me that she noticed my improved mood since you're around and that she wants me to stay like that, even if it means that I won't keep up with all my commitments. It feels like she's finally beginning to see me.”

A bright smile captured my face. “I'm so happy to hear that, Tasneem”, I proposed.

“Thank you”, she shot back. “Seriously. For everything.”

Her smile was making my heart flutter. The urge to take her hand in mine was almost unbearable, but I knew we had to stay low in that aspect at school.

“So … back to the initial topic. I realized that my mom is completely used to you showing up whenever and I don't even know yours”, she pointed out.

“You don't need to know her”, I insisted.

“Why are you so against it?”, Tasneem inquired.

By now we were sitting outside to eat. The weather was great, which was nothing new.

“Are you afraid that she might embarrass you? Because I'd laugh about some silly childhood stories, but it would only make me adore you more”, she continued.

“Or is it because of our relationship?” She had lowered her voice for that question.

“She doesn't need to know if you don't want to.”

“No, it's not that. We just don't have the kind of relationship you and your mom have and I'm pretty sure you'll be disappointed. Or rather upset, maybe”, I claimed.

“What do you mean?”, she questioned, concern written over her face.

“It's just … I know she loves me, in some way at least. But most of the time we're living separate lives. When I was struggling with Layan's death, she told me to suck it up and stop grieving over what's gone because I won't get it back anyway. I know she meant to give me good advice. We just don't get along that well”, I explained.

Tasneem placed her hand on my forearm, a supportive gesture I appreciated a lot.

“She's pretty much a hypocrite. She wants me to tell her about my feelings and plays the concerned mom, but the next day it's like our conversation never really happened and she just wants me to go on as if everything was fine. That's why I couldn't even talk about Layan a few weeks ago. I hadn't been allowed to grieve”, I stated.

“I'm sorry, (f/n). That's awful”, she noted.

“You helped me through it”, I proposed. “I just don't want her to screw our relationship up. You know … make 'helpful' comments or trigger you in any way. I like our life the way it is right now.”

“Me too”, Tasneem agreed, smiling. “But whether you like it or not, your mom is still a crucial part of your life and I'd like to meet her someday.”

“Okay”, I gave in. “But we'll do it on a day my dad comes home early. He's amazing, just busy a lot of the time, thanks to his job. So I don't get to be with him much.”

“It's settled the...”, she decided.

“Hey, Tasneem!”, Hiba called out, approaching us.

A smug grin was adorning her face while she was scanning the way we were sitting, Tasneem's hand still on my forearm.

“What's up with you recently?”, Hiba questioned. “Why are you spending all your time with that loner? What's your plan?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm spending time with her because I enjoy it and I'm not spending it with you because you're being a bitch about it”, Tasneem declared.

Hiba was having difficulties to control herself. At least I assumed that reading her body language before she stormed off without another word.

“I can't believe her”, Tasneem ranted.

“Maybe you should talk to her?”, I suggested. “The real kind, without just clawing at each others throats.”

“I don't think that'll do”, she presumed. “Hiba's kinda living in her own little world, thinking she's the boss and has to be in control all the time. I doubt resonating with her would work out.”

“I just don't like standing in between you”, I confessed.

“It's not you. We've been having issues for quite some time now”, she reassured me. “But that's enough with all the serious talk. Let's plan something to do on the weekend.”

Somehow changing topics was easy for once, relishing in the positive aspects of our lives. Laughing together with her just felt like every bad thing was gone. So from that point on the break ended quicker than I wished for.

At the end of the school day Tasneem and I were about to head out together like we always did. Even when I did not tag along, Tasneem insisted to walk me to the bus to cherish any moment together we could get.

But today she had forgotten one of her books in the classroom. So she had to head back while I was waiting in the corridor, close to the exit.

Everyone else had already left. At least that was what I had thought until Hiba pushed me into the bathroom that was right next to me.

“What the hell?”, I exclaimed, regaining my stance.

“What did you do?”, Hiba interrogated me.

“What do you mean?”, I inquired confused.

“What did you do to make Tasneem hang out with you? You're a loner. A nobody. Why would she want to keep you around?”, Hiba questioned, her voice dripping with disgust.

“This is between you and Tasneem. You should talk to her about it”, I suggested.

Hiba took a step toward me, getting dangerously close. Honestly it was intimidating, but I stood my ground anyway, not putting distance between us again.

“You should stay away from her”, she advised me.

“Won't happen”, I assured her.

“You'll regret that”, she warned me.

“I don't think so. But maybe you should question your behavior if you want Tasneem to be your friend because I'm pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate what you're doing right now”, I considered.

“I'm gonna make your life a living hell”, she threatened me.

“I don't think that will be possible. I've already been through hell and yet here I am. I don't go down that easily”, I promised, not suppressing the grin that was forming on my face.

“We'll see”, she alluded and left me behind.

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Next Chapter

What do you guys think about the story so far? Just finished chapter 7 btw.

Tag List: @sunwoniie

#al rawabi school for girls #tasneem x reader #lgbtqia #hiba #romance #fluff #drama #female reader

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arminsumi · 2 years

Text

˗ˏˋ꒰ 📖 ꒱ BOOKSTORE BOY

Armin x fem!reader

Chapter index / Chapter Ⅰ

Overview; Since moving into town, you've been visiting the bookstore that Armin works at. He's got a sorely obvious crush on you, but he's too nervous to even say hello.

Content; fluff

"Aaand you're drifting off again. Did you even hear what I said?" Connie mused, but Armin wasn't really listening; he was looking at you.

You were perusing the cramped aisles, your eyes curiously scanning the bookspines. You had a habit of tilting your head while reading the titles, which Armin found utterly adorable.

It had been a month since you began visiting the book store every day. Armin was frustrated with his lack of courage; he really wanted to talk to you. He planned so many conversation starters in this time, but used none of them when you came to the checkout to pay.

A pattern formed; you would scan the book titles down a few aisles, Armin would crane his neck to catch a glimpse of you from behind the register, then after you had found a book, you would meet him at the checkout counter and flash him a sweet smile before paying and leaving. You know, he always looked after your wake when you left the store, too, and he internally kicked himself for not commenting on your book at all. He really liked your diverse taste.

"Oh my God, man, really..." Connie rolled his eyes, "Just go on and ask her out. You just know she's single if she's hanging out in bookstores every day."

Armin hissed for Connie to be quieter, a slight blush crowning his ears.

"It's harder than you make it sound." Armin sighed, leaning against the cash register, "I can't just, like, approach her and say — 'oh hey, I know you're looking for books, but do you wanna go on a date with me instead?'"

"Uh, yeah, you absolutely can do that." Connie said stubbornly.

Armin shook his head at him. He didn't understand how impossible it felt to him. Even his goodbyes to you at the checkout were shaky, so how could he ever talk to you?

The golden hour was approaching; such a tranquil light flooded the bookstore, and it created this serene-like atmosphere. The bookshelves were illuminated by this eye-catching golden light, yet Armin was not admiring that; no, in fact, he was admiring how the light illuminated you — you seemed downright dreamy to him. This perception of you was only emphasized by how you floated down the aisles, like a goddess, Armin thought.

The bookstore cat stalked around, drawing closer to you with its blue little paws. Connie didn't even need to ask what had brightened Armin's mood, because he saw by his eyes that a plan was brewing in his mind.

Armin waited until Umi got close enough to you to warrant his intervention;

"Sorry!" He said with a feigned guilty smile, then pried Umi off the shelf that you were observing just as she began to bother you.

"Oh, it's alright." You said, "I love cats."

Armin's eyes glittered at you, his voice was slightly hyper in tone, "Me too — her name's — uh — Umi." He said.

"Oh... Umi? What does that mean?" You asked curiously.

"It's — well — it just — it means — it translates to 'ocean'." Armin said, then gave smile that was more so an attempt to quell his anxiety.

"Oh! That's so sweet..." You squinted adoringly at Umi, then observed her greyish blue fur, "A British Shorthair, right?" You said.

"No... actually, a Russian Blue." Armin corrected confidently.

You could feel a tide of his emotions rushing towards you. He was so blatant in his demeanor that you could sense his feelings rushing towards you like an incoming tide.

Armin was paranoid about coming off as too excited to talk to you, so he toned it down a bit.

"Oh, by the way..." You began, "... do you have any Virginia Woolf books here?"

"Virginia Woolf? — Uh — wait, I'll check for you." He said, then swiftly disappeared from the aisle.

Armin's heart was thumping erratically. All he could think was oh my God I actually talked to her. She talked to me. I actually did that.

Connie nearly burst out laughing at how speedily Armin dashed behind the checkout counter. He checked the store's stock on the computer, his hands shaking a bit as he typed. Connie began to playfully tease him, so Armin hissed under his breath for him to shut up and continued searching the store's stock for Virginia Woolf books.

Armin thought that you had such an interesting eye for books. Sometimes you bought books that even he didn't know about (And, mind you, he was a big bookworm). He admired your diversity, too, because one day you'd buy Poe, the next you'd buy Kerouac.

His grandfather peered over the railing of the second-floor's coffee shop loft. He just had to smile to himself, because it was nice to see his grandson's melancholy dispersing because of you.

Both Armin's family and friend group worried that he was growing more and more melancholic by the day, and truly he was; he pressed his chin gloomily atop the cash register every day and waited for something interesting to happen. His spirits kept sinking, but then one day you started visiting the bookstore.

His family loved to tease him and say that he was falling in love with 'the bookstore girl'. There was even a running joke that you were 'the bookworm that wormed into his heart'.

When the database showed negative for Virginia Woolf books, Armin returned to you. In the small seconds it took him to walk down the aisle, he gave himself a pep talk so that he could calm down his overwhelming excitement.

You had been trying to play with Umi in that time, but she was the type of cat who scrunched up in repulsion when you tried to touch her, so you gave up.

"I don't think we have any Virginia Woolf... sorry." Armin said.

"Oh, that's alright — but thanks for your help." You said.

Armin seemed more composed now; his hands were neatly tucked behind his back, which was straightened like a soldier on command. His grandfather took note of this tell-tale posture; it's what Armin did when he was trying to impress someone.

Armin's eyes glittered with excitement at you. He realized he'd begun staring, so he abruptly reanimated himself.

He awkwardly stammered something like "...I'll get back to work... let me know if you need help again..." and retreated behind the checkout counter, where Connie giggled quietly.

You wandered from aisle to aisle for some time. If Armin knew that he had gotten your heart fluttering excitedly from that simple encounter, he'd be flying across the stars.

Finally, you plucked a book and headed to the checkout. Armin was blushing under Connie's relentless teasing; you noticed his red ears, but you had no idea what was going on. But you had to smile at the two friend's banter. They seemed to be as close as brothers.

"I'm taking this..." You said timidly, placing the book softly on the counter.

Even the way you gently placed the book down was something that Armin squealed about inside. You just had this... je ne sais quoi thing about you.

Meanwhile, you were thinking about his je ne sais quoi quality; he was so awkwardly charming, so sweetly nervous.

Armin rung the book up for you while you pulled out your wallet. You fumbled with your money in such a way that, to someone looking, it looked like you had robbed a bank.

He noticed this nervous quirk of yours. It made him smile and feel relieved to see that even you were nervous with such simple tasks in public.

Connie was holding back giggles while he observed this all.

"Thanks!" You beamed at Armin, "See you..." You said, taking your book and the receipt and leaving for the upstairs cafe.

"Bye!" Armin squeaked.

You ascended the stairs to the coffee shop's loft just as Armin's grandfather descended. Both he and Connie rung out with giggling laughter when you were out of earshot. His grandfather had this endearingly cheeky cackle.

"Bye!" Connie mimicked you.

"Shut up, both of you... you're menaces..." Armin groaned and rubbed his face.

They continued to giggle amongst themselves about Armin's squeaky goodbye while Armin observed you longingly. You looked so comfy when nestled into your usual seat with a new book. Even the way you pursed your lips to sip coffee made Armin feel fluttery. (He probably wanted to be that coffee cup).

Umi stalked up to Armin, and he looked at her with a warmer affection than before.

"I owe you some treats." Armin smiled, petting under her chin with his finger.

A subtle blush spread across his cheeks while he replayed each moment of the encounter between the two of you.

Connie came over just to wiggle his brows at his blushing friend.

"Ah, fucking hell... will you shut up..." Armin groaned.

"Well, damn... the next thing is marriage, right?" Connie laughed.

Armin sighed hopelessly, "I'll be lucky if I ever get to talk to her about something other than cats and books..."

He continued to observe you as you sipped coffee and focused intensely on the yellowed pages. Another Kerouac novel... the one which was his favorite, but he didn't even get to say that while ringing it up for you.

He felt this overwhelming urge to be in your company again, but instead of acting on it, he sulked behind the register and complained to Connie about his lack of courage.

#˗ˏˋ꒰ 📖 ꒱ Bookstore Boy #🐬Ocean Prince #armin #armin arlert #armin aot #snk #aot #armin arlert x reader #arminarlert #armin x reader #armin oneshot #armin x you #armin x y/n #wholesome #cute #fluff #armin fluff #armin arlert x you

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