#and maybe he’s been chasing you for a while?

[emchante]

okay okayy from your prompt list would you consider using “ghosting their lips against yours before pulling back with a smug smirk, making you chase them desperately” and “pulling them closer by their belt” with franco?

crossing the line - f.c

masterlist | requesting rules

prompts: “ghosting their lips against yours before pulling back with a smirk” + “pulling them closer by the belt”

summary: after a long day together, you and franco relax in his apartment. there’s been an unspoken attraction between you both, and it finally bubbles over.

WARNINGS: nothing extreme or nsfw, gentle teasing and a make-out.

w.c. 1.2k+

a/n hii all! here’s a little franco blurb as a treat (esp for @yauchfilms !!) this is my first time writing for him, so i hope you all enjoy. more franco will definitely be on the way. let me know your thoughts via asks/anons, comments or reblogs. <3

it had been a long day. you were currently with franco, lounging in his apartment as what seemed to be indie music hummed softly from his speaker. the lights were dim, casting a warm glow throughout the room that helped bring the more relaxed vibe you were both going for.

it felt comfortable, natural— just the two of you winding down together like you usually did after a packed day. but today, it felt different.

in fact lately, there had been an undercurrent of something else.

it was in the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, or in the way he let his hands linger a little longer than considered friendly when he brushes past you. something unspoken, something that’s been quietly building between you both, as if waiting for a spark to set it off.

you weren’t certain about it all, though. it was no secret amongst your social group that you were infatuated with the boy. you feared your own feelings were deluding you, maybe making things up in your mind and justifying it because you had felt the same way.

“you’re staring at me,” franco murmured, interrupting your train of thought. you noticed how his lips quirked up into a smirk at your reaction, and you shook your head with a small smile.

he wasn’t wrong, you were staring at him while deep in thought. it was hard not to though, you felt the need to study his face and the way the light casted shadows upon it.

you wouldn’t admit it to him, though.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes at him, allowing the words to fall freely from your lips. “please, i’ve had to see it long enough today,” referring to the fact you’d been glued to each others sides the full day. “you wish.”

franco chuckled, leaning back against the sofa, as he stretched his arm in that casual, teasing way of his. “well, maybe i do.”

it was only a few seconds before you felt his hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer towards him. you didn’t object of course, allowing yourself to be moved farther into him.

his words hung between the both of you, heavier than you expected them to. it was very franco of him to drop small hints like these, leaving you second guessing yourself as usual. but this time, he didn’t pull back. instead, he continued to state into your eyes, an almost.. challenging glint within them. you felt the heat rising to your cheeks, a flutter of anticipation mixed with nerves.

you furrowed your brows at him, biting the inside of your cheek to steady yourself before you spoke up. “don’t start something you’re not going to finish, franco.”

“oh?” he raised his brows, tilting his head lightly to the side and you could see the playful spark light up in his expression. franco leaned in closer, beginning to close the distance between you, his face inches from yours. his voice dropped to a whisper as he murmured, “what if i do, corazona?”

your heart was pounding, each beat echoing in your chest as his breath mingled with your own. the closeness along with the term of endearment.. it was beginning to get a little too much. your eyes widened slightly as you watched his gaze flick to your lips before he licked his own, moving his eyes to peer back to yours.

you could barely breathe normally, so much so that the rhythm had become more labored subconsciously as you got caught up in your mind.

you began to lean in, eyes beginning to close as you got ready to settle into the kiss— but it never even happened.

franco had pulled back, smirk painted across his face as mischief lit up his gaze. the teasing lingered in the air, his retreat sparking more frustration within you. he looked so pleased with himself, and you knew he was, the chuckles and comments about the moment were enough to let you know. however, with your frustration came something else— adrenaline.

before you had time to think about it your hand was reaching forward, and you grabbed franco by the belt. your fingers curled into the fabric as you pulled him towards you, and it completely wiped the smirk off of his face. it was now franco with the widened eyes and shocked expression, which in turn made you smirk.

there was no time for teasing or dwelling on it though, as you moved your hands up to grab onto his shirt collar before pulling him down to meet your lips.

franco melted into the kiss instantly, moving his from from your shoulder as his hand moved to your face and cupped your cheek. the kiss was soft at first, tentative, like you were both savoring the taste of the moment, this leap of friendship into something more.

the restraint didn’t last long, though.

the months of tension, the quiet looks, the playful banter— it rushed forward all at once, sweeping you both up as the kiss deepened. it slow and intense, every touch adding to the moment. franco’s free hand slid around your waist to your back, pulling you right onto his lap.

you pulled away from the kiss momentarily, resting your forehead against his own. funnily enough, it was franco who was now chasing your lips. he cursed under this breath as he opened his eyes, a small smile on his face.

one of your hands made its way up into franco’s hair, combing your fingers through the back of it as you both sat in silence for a moment longer.

“it was about time,” franco muttered, swallowing thickly as a small chuckle escaped his lips. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you sighed at him.

you didn’t bother entertaining his teasing, simply muttering a “shut up” before your lips were back onto his. this kiss became heated much faster than anticipated. you tugged in franco’s hair, which caused a small moan to escape him before his tongue swiped along your bottom lip.

he moved his hand from your face to join his other at your waist for a few moments, before they trailed down to your ass. you pulled back the tiniest bit, muttering “watch yourself” before you leaned back in to continue.

your kisses were hungry, a rhythm of urgency and need, franco’s mouth hot and insistent against yours. you angled your face to continue deepening the kiss, as one of your hands moved to his jaw, holding it tightly.

after a few more moments of the heated makeout, you both pulled back— breathless with swollen lips. you licked your lips as you breathed heavily, trying to steady it back into its normal pace.

franco stared at you in slight awe at what had just happened, he had never expected you would be the one to finally initiate it. it was something he could get used to, though. and he didn’t have to dream about it for long.

within 30 minutes, you were both back in the frenzy of kissing each other like it was vital, like you’d lose each other if you stopped.

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter six: so start over

college au, the batboys and reader are bartenders, also the guys play hockey

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, azriel x reader

summary - things slowly start to mend after eris talks to his brother, and azriel talks to you.

word count - 3k

a/n - sorry this took me so long to write!!! i was super busy, i just moved and had to get all my voter registration stuff in order before tonight! i hope this brings a little distraction from the dreadful anxiety of election day. it certainly worked a little for me. also guys theyre starting to work towards happiness. i think when the series is done i might write blurbs for it. because her and eris make my heart hurt a little. anyways i hope you enjoy!

read the rest of the series here!

 Eris couldn’t get you out of his head. He had tried, by taking that girl to the halloween party instead of you. But now. The idea of forgetting you was almost laughable. Your words echoing through his ears constantly. 

I miss you. 

You missed him. You had Azriel in the palm of your hand and you missed him. He thought of your flushed cheeks and your tousled hair. The bite mark that had been fading from your skin, the way you had brought your hand up to cover it the second he noticed it. The way Azriel had leaned against the porch rail and nodded at him. A silent bow out. Eris wondered what exactly you had said to him to make him give up the chase. What exactly the two of you had discussed. Whether it was a fight or a teary eyed goodbye. He couldn’t make himself not care. About any of it. About how he wished he could have wiped the tear tracks from your face. About how he wished that he could have smoothed every crease of worry from your skin with a kiss. But he couldn’t. Not then. But now? He didn’t know. 

He was walking to campus now. The leaves almost fully fallen from every branch. The harsh sterility of winter starting it’s approach. It felt like he was retracing steps. Steps he had once taken with you. Like his feet were leading him somewhere that he wasn’t fully aware of until he stopped outside the coffee shop you so often frequented. He looked through the slightly fogged windows. Towards the window booth you and Lucien so often liked to share while you studied. You weren’t there. It’s not like he was surprised, he knew you worked thursday evenings anyway. But his brother was. Lucien sat alone at the table. Flipping absent mindedly through the pages of an all too large book, that he was probably reading for brownie points more than anything else. Eris looked at his feet, as if trying to will them to take him somewhere else, before he sighed and pushed open the door of the coffee shop. 

He made his way to where his brother was sitting and wrapped his knuckles on the table. Lucien sighed and looked up. Shooting his elder brother a nonplussed look before letting his book fall closed before him. He leaned back in his chair, looking Eris up and down, and crossing his arms. 

“You look like shit.” 

“You know for someone that used to copy the way that I dress that’s a wild thing to say to me.” 

Lucien scoffed, “I didn’t copy the way you dressed, I was forced to wear hand me downs for a ridiculously long time….which is funny considering that our family could have afforded to buy me new clothes.” 

Eris smiled and shrugged, “Maybe it’s because you were dad’s least favorite.” 

Lucien frowned a little and shrugged, “I’m gonna let you be rude to me only because you’ve clearly let yourself go.” 

Eris let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, almost perfectly mirroring Lucien’s stance. The brothers studied eachother. Neither of them saying anything. Eris chewing his bottom lip, trying to find a good way to phrase what he wanted to say. A good way to bring you up without making it seem like it was the only reason he was talking to Lucien. As if on cue Lucein let out a small laugh, leaned forward, the legs of his chair clicking loudly against the floor, 

“She’s not doing great either.” 

Eris let out another sigh. He didn’t want you to be doing poorly. He wanted you happy and content. Really he did. But there was some comfort in Lucien’s admittance. Some small relief that maybe you were just as unhappy being apart as he was. But the grimace that rippled across his features was evident nonetheless. Lucien continued at the pained look on his brother’s face, 

“Really. I don’t think she’s brushed her hair in a couple days. I’ve never seen her look this disheveled on purpose. She stopped coming to class.” 

Eris looked up at this, “I don’t want that.” 

“I know you don’t.” Lucien paused and rubbed his hand over his eyes, “Maybe you should talk to her.” 

“And say what Lucien?” 

“Well I heard that she uhm…somewhat bared her soul to you.” 

“She was drunk.” 

“I don’t think she was. I think most of the alcohol was vomitted up before she managed to actually talk to you.” 

He was right. Eris thought about the horrifying clarity behind your eyes when you had spoken to him. Your words soft and quiet, like you were almost ashamed to say them at all. Like you were embarrassed to admit that you had any doubts, any fear, at all. 

“I don’t know if we can go back to the way it was.” 

Lucien shrugged, a real, heavy shouldered shrug, and ran a hand through his hair. He opened his book again and said, without looking up from the pages, “So start over.” 

★ ★ ★

You and Azriel worked in silence. Diligently keeping up with the flow of customers, parrying snarky comments from Cassian, and handling the mountain of dirty glasses Mor would dump on the bar’s doorstep every couple minutes. It was good to be busy. You didn’t have to think about anything when it was busy. You could work steadily and make other people happy, without having to think about any of your own shit. You didn’t have to think about how you were falling behind in your classes, or the pained look in Azriel’s eyes everytime they fell on you, or the general hushed tones your friends were speaking to you in. Like you were a dog that had just come back from living on the street. Like you were something to mend slowly and carefully. Something they were scared to kick while it was down. 

“You wanna take your fifteen?” 

It was the first thing Azriel had said to you all shift. The silence and synchonization you two fell into finally benefiting you. You shook your head and tilted your chin in a motion that said why don’t you take yours. There was a lull in the rush. Finally. So he did. Tucking his apron under the counter and nudging Cassian as he walked towards the door. Cassian followed after shooting you an apprehnsive glace, as if worried that you wouldn’t be able to hold down the fort. A completely unfounded concern. But now? You looked like you hadn’t slept since Halloween and it made him nervous. But he followed Azriel out anyways. Not wanting to ask you if you needed help for fear that you’d bite his head off at the insinutaiton. 

Cassian watched Azriel pace up and down the street. His palms pressing into his eyes as he did so. 

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” 

“Why do you only like me when I’m sad?” Azriel looked to his friend while parroting your words. He had been saying them repeatedly to Cassian for the last week. Cassian refusing to really talk about it, this was something he thought Azriel needed to come to terms with on his own. But now. After eight days of this being the only thing Az was able to talk about…he finally cracked, 

“Well…Why do you only like her when she’s sad?” 

Azriel started at him. His arms dropping to hang limp at his sides. He looked dumbfounded at Cassian’s question. Like he never expected that. He should have. But he didn’t. He hung his head and resumed his pacing. 

“I don’t know.” 

Cassian huffed a breath of complaint and crossed his arms. 

“I think…It’s because, as much as you don’t want to admit it, sometimes you like playing the hero so much that it makes you a villain.” 

And with that Cassian turned on his heel and went back inside. He had been doing that alot lately. Dropping bombs and then leaving before Azriel could really respond. It was driving Az crazy. Cassian of all people should not be the one putting him in place. Their dynamic suddenly switched. Nothing in his life at this moment felt the way that it should. 

He slumped down. Sitting on the curb, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket and trying to enjoy one small peaceful moment before going back to work. But he heard the door creak open, fully expecting Rhys to come reprimand him now, he didn’t turn to look who was approaching him.

You sat next to him. Curling into yourself slightly. Your arms wrapping around your bent legs to shield you from the cold and from the conversation you had steeled yourself into having. He finally looked towards you, a little surprised that you were there in the first place. You spoke first. Like you always did. 

“I’m sorry. For the other night.” 

He started shaking his head before you could even finish talking. “You don’t have to be sorry. You were right. I have the horrible habit of trying to save you from good things.” 

“Well I know I was right. But I didn’t have to say it like that. Like you were the only one to blame.” 

He sat with the words. Rolling the cigarette between his lips as he thought, 

“I want you to be happy.” 

“I know” you whispered like you didn’t really believe it and he pushed forwards, 

“No. I want you to be happy. I want to see it happen and I want to see it stay.” He paused and heaved in a deep and settling breath, “Because we’re friends.” 

“We’re friends?” 

“I think it’s what we’re best at.” He scrunched his nose a little as he said it. Almost teasing. Like maybe it wasn’t too soon to make jokes. Like they could start to rebuild from here. You didn’t say anything in response. But you smiled, strained and tired, but a smile. So he kept talking. For once he needed to keep talking. 

“The reason I never said anything the first time. After you left. Was because I thought you didn’t want me to. I thought I was saving you from something. Believe it or not…I was also scared. That it didn’t mean anything. And at the time…maybe it did. It probably meant everything. But now? It’s been so long and I..” 

He leaned back, resting his palms on the cold damp concrete of the sidewalk, letting the sting of it set his nerves and solidify his ground, “I wasted my chance and now I think you need to take yours. Don’t stay silent again because you’re scared.” 

“We both wasted our chance. It wasn’t just you.” Again that hushed tone. The hurried flow of your words, like if you didn’t get them out as fast as you could, you wouldn’t get them out again. 

“I think it’s for the better.” 

You stared at eachother now. A silent understanding passing between you. A settling warmth. A forgiveness that’s been long awaited. The silent turmoil of the last two years of your friendship finally starting to ease it’s way back to a steady rhythm. 

“You should talk to him. Again.” 

It was your turn to shake your head in defeat. A motion that seemed to be very popular lately. Something to share with just about everyone you knew. 

“I don’t know if he ever wants to hear from me again. If we can ever go back to the way it was.” 

Azriel let out a huff of laughter and stood up, brushing himself off as he did so. He offered you a hand and hauled you to your feet. He grasped both of your shoulders and said very seriously, 

“So don’t. Start over. Do it better. You can save this one.” 

★ ★ ★

You were walking home from work. Trying not to let Azriel’s words go to your head. You can save this one. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going. Your eyes trained on the lights that illuminated the worn brick of the road. The golden illumination from storefronts and restaurants casting a warm glow over the red cobblestone. You zoned out a little as you passed your favorite coffee shop. Inside the employees were putting chairs on tables and sweeping up. The smell of coffee and baked goods still wafting out the half open door. It wasn’t until you ran directly into someone, your book and phone clattering to the pavement, and your bag swinging off your shoulder that you really started to pay attention. You leaned down to pick up your things. Muttering your apologies. A large freckled hand came to rest over yours as you scrambled to pick up your book before the thin glaze of rain on the sidewalk started to seep into the pages. A hand you knew all to well. Accompanied by a smell that overwhelmed your senses. Vanilla and roasting almonds. Firewood and burnt sage. It was like an assault on your senses. The softness of his skin, interrupted only by the small calluses left there from his hockey stick. The fiery brush of his hair over his forehead, his amber eyes burning their way through yours. 

You rose together. Standing straight wouldn’t stop him from towering over you. His smile soft and tugging at the corners of his lips. He looked good. Tired, dark circles under his eyes, hair out of order, his sweater crumpled and wrinkled more than he’d ever let it be normally. But the warmth of him. That was there. His eyes no longer cold and guarded. They were searching and alight with a strange sort of mischief.  

“You should really watch where your going.” He was quiet as he spoke. Teasing in tone. 

You nodded a little shakily, “Yeah. I uh. I probably should.” 

“I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you run into a lamp post or something.”

A pretty thing like you. Something he hadn’t said to you since he first started hitting on you. Something he hadn’t said since he didn’t really know you. You didn’t know how to respond. So you, almost unconsciously, nodded. God I must look so fucking dumb. It was the only thing you could think. You were surprised he had stopped to help you at all. Surprised he was even here. He only ever came to this coffee shop when he was looking for you. 

“Eris.” He said it so casually. Like it was the most natural thing to do. Reaching out to shake your hand. Without thinking you introduced yourself in return, grasping his hand as he shook it. No questions. Like it was the only thing to say. The only thing to do.  A grin started to spread across his face as he said, 

“You know. You should let me take you out some time. Protect you from any incoming road blocks.” 

He was looking for you. You realized it just as you were hit with a small wave of confusion. He was asking you on a date like he didn’t know you at all. He was starting over. Like something in the universe had given him the same inclination that you were given. Starting over. 

“I uh…I’d like that.” 

He nodded and brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, “Good.” He whispered as that small fox like smile stretched it’s way further across his features. His freckles scrunching slightly with the bridge of his nose. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he started to turn in the direction of his house, the dead opposite direction of yours. He took one step before turning back around, 

“We’ll talk?” 

“We’ll talk.” You answered as fast as you could and with a small affirming nod. He mirrored the movement, pursing his lips as he did so. You looked at eachother briefly before you started to walk away. 

He watched as you did. Watched the way your shoulders relaxed a little and you ran your fingers over the hair he had smoother moments before. 

“I miss you too.” 

He called after you. You shot him a small smile over your shoulder, but didn’t say anything back. 

We’ll talk.

taglist:

@tiredsleepyhead @rosewood-cafe @kristijenner19 @becstersworld

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

@lupinswolfsbanes 

@theflowerswillbloom @melsunshine @mad-katsuki @lilylilyyyyyy @blueeeeeshark

@tolietpaperwater @redr0sewrites @acourtofbatboydreams @hextech-bros

[d0llcuries]

ICE-CREAM FOR TWO

pairing(s): reiner braun x fem! reader

summary: you hated him for dragging you to marley, for every stolen chance at freedom. you expected the feeling to be mutual as you rented him for four long years but it wasn't. what better way to address this than ice-cream!

author's note: uh, i guess i write for aot now. blame my cousin and her insistence on getting me addicted to this stupid show for the possibility of inaccurate writing. i love reiner pls send requests for aot 🤲🏽

the market cradled you today in a way almost cruel, with its heat and grit pressing close, air thick with burnt coffee, iron on the breeze, syrupy traces of cotton candy and caramel inviting you into the hic et nunc, although you didn’t want to be. you hated this noise, this heat, the whole crowded mess of voices folding together like waves. you hated how it almost felt like home. you hated how you could almost trick yourself into calling it that if you tried hard enough. a mirror showing something soft, distant, something that could’ve been yours in some other life. no matter how warm the market held you, the truth settled somewhere beneath it all. this land is borrowed, marley is not home, and no amount of rose-tinted glass could change that.

under a washed-out sky, baskets burst with flowers like muted fireworks, children racing in loops, dogs tangled and nipping at their heels. you thought about reiner before you saw him. he was sitting across the square, shoulders hunched as if he were carrying every brick and stone of marley on his back, the same as he’d carried those in paradis. he looked like he was far away, somewhere only he knew how to reach. you still saw that ghost of the soldier you thought he was back then, before everything came apart.

you’d told yourself you wouldn’t go near him, wouldn’t let him know that, after all this time, you’d never quite stopped noticing him. you wonder why you think of him so much, why he takes up all this space in your mind even when he's not near. it was strange how close you were and weren’t, your lives spooled together and then split, moth-eaten like old twine.

but then gabi’s voice broke into your thoughts.

“hey, yn! can you buy us ice cream, please? come on, it’s not far! the ice-cream stand's like.. right around the corner, and i haven’t had any in soooooo long!” gabi stretched out the ‘so long’ ensuring that you felt every inch of the ache that came from a whole season without the taste of frozen sugar. she practically sang, her sticky hand finding yours and pulling before you’d had a chance to respond.

before you knew it, you were standing at the old ice-cream stand, faded to a dull blue, the wood bleached and splintering under too many hot days. the vendor, an older man with sunburned skin and tired eyes, barely lifted his gaze as he rattled off the list of flavors available.

while you hadn’t chosen this home, you chose these people, or maybe they chose you in some inexplciable way. the days of resentment, the times you’d longed to be anywhere but marley, softened over time. gabi, falco, and udo, each of them with their bright, trusting faces had managed to bring out a warmth in you that you’d forgotten was there. you hadn’t planned to love them, but they’d worked their way into the little cracks between loneliness and anger, without effort or warning. it felt like love. you loved them.

“please, please, please?” gabi’s voice tumbled out, each please more insistent than the last. you pressed your lips together, trying to chase away the smile that wanted to break free, but there was no stopping it. the vendor cleared his throat, glancing at the line of customers that was growing behind you, and that pressure paired with gabiʼs nagging commenced the immediate collapse of any resolve you’d held and any remaining choice you had.

“alright, alright,” you murmured. “three, please,” you said, “two caramel swirls… and a chocolate.”

you pull the coins from your purse, and slide them across the vendor’s counter, a quick glance past the crowd where you know reiner’s somewhere out there, not close but close enough. you dig back into your purse, pull out enough for an extra ice cream, and place it on the wood. “and one more, vanilla.”

the vendor didn't blink. he handed you the cones with a practiced indifference, the soft edges already drooping in the heat, melting faster than they should. gabi snatched hers right away, giving a quick “thanks!” but not really looking at you. she didn’t need to, her appreciation was in her wide-eyed grin and the way she immediately started devouring the cone as if she’d waited years for it. udo took his with a quiet “thank you,” glancing at the cone like it was the first good thing he’d seen all day. falco gave a small nod, not meeting your eyes, as if the simple gesture was too much kindness to take all at once.

you glance at the extra cone in your hand, and you think about the boy—no, man—you had brought it for.

your gaze flickered to the square, and there he was, his silhouette made of pale, ghostly gold and all the fragments that cling to it. the blond of his hair catches and curls like a match struck in silence as he rests on the bench with moss staining its feet in a green kiss. “stay close. don't wander off,” you murmur to gabi and the boys, a mother’s instinct in a stranger’s affection. the market seems to swell as faces blur into patches of color and shadow.

usually heʼd be the one buying them the sweets, trailing behind like he belonged to the children, not the other way around. he’d slip coins to the vendor, barely seen, to make sure the kids stayed kids, get them something sweet to carry home sticky on their fingers. his presence made the kids feel safe. that was his gift to them.

he didn’t see you, not at first, lost in whatever he’d wrapped around himself, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes focused on something far off, his expression pulled into that mask of solemnity that’s so familiar it hurts. there’s a ghost of a frown in his brow from spending too much time thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. it was only when you were close enough that he looked up, startled, it was clear he wasn't expecting to see you. there was a tension in him, he sort of resembled an animal caught between choices, wanting to flee but rooted to the spot.

“i thought you’d want one,” you said, holding the cone out. it wasn’t often that you spoke to him this way, or at all. not about something as simple as ice-cream.

he stared at it first, then up at you. for a heartbeat you thought he might actually refuse it, let the ice-cream coat your hand with melted stickiness just to spite you for they way you resented him for the past four years.

“they give that to you for free?” he said, his eyes drifted somewhere just beyond the market stalls, like he was only half-invested in the jab.

something in his tone snagged, left a thin, invisible cut. he had every reason to say it, you supposed, but it still bruised in a way it shouldn’t. “no,” you shot back, trying not to let his offhand remark knock too hard against the satisfaction you’d felt just moments ago. “i bought it for you.”

with a breath soft as surrender, he looked up at you, and you could feel it, the way he saw you, had always seen you, from the days you were both cadets stumbling through ranks and routines. he’d always thought you were pretty, even when thought you didn't interact often.

the word devil was supposed to define you. reiner was trained to see you that way, to let a thick wall of prejudice stand between you both, forged over years of lessons and oaths. in marley, they pressed that word into people like you, used it to shape you into something repulsive. it was easy to believe it as a child, to see you through the war-stained images they painted, to think of you as something marley’s soldiers had been trained to conquer and devastate. but somehow, that wall never felt as solid with you. he tried to keep it up, you could tell from the way his gaze would shift from warm to cold so quickly, his jaw setting hard as if he was gripping some old lesson, forcing himself to remember why he wasn’t supposed to care. and you hated him for it as much as you didn’t. it was like he had stolen every sense of belonging from you, yet kept a fragile piece of it alive in himself, offering it back in little moments you refused to trust.

he’d always figured he’d have to wait, maybe forever for that forgiveness, if it came at all. for four years, he’d held onto the hope that one day you might look at him without that burning hatred in your eyes. over time, he’d let that hope slip through his fingers, learning to live in the shadow of what he thought he’d ruined.

but now, standing here, he felt something he hadn’t dared to let himself feel in a long time. the way you looked at him was different—not hardened or distant, but softened, like there was warmth in you meant just for him. it was subtle, but it caught him completely off guard, a look that lingered a little too long, the edges softening just enough for him to see something he’d once believed was lost.

he wanted to say something, anything, to reach out, but he found himself rooted, afraid to break whatever delicate understanding hung between you. he’s always been so careful with you, so mindful of your boundaries. your gaze didn’t waver, and he felt it like a quiet ache, as if, finally, there was a chance your view of him had changed.

he took the cone with hands that were larger than you remembered, rough and scarred and cracked in places. in his grasp, the small offering looked absurdly delicate.

“thanks.”

you settle on the edge of the bench beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, but not quite touching.

“you didn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice subdued, as if he was suppressing emotions that he couldn’t articulate.

“i wanted to,” you reply simply, the words soft but steady, a quiet confession hidden in plain sight. it’s not much, just a simple act of kindness, but it feels like more than that, like a tentative step toward something new, something neither of you quite knows how to name.

“i’m not good at this,” he admits after a long pause, the unexpected confession falling between you. he doesn’t look at you, eyes locked on the melting drip tracing a path down his knuckle.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “good at what?”

he’s quiet for a moment, so quiet that the hum of the market seems louder, pressing in from all sides. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost hesitant. “being close. to anyone.”

you shift slightly, your knee brushing against his leg. it’s so slight it could be an accident, but it’s not. “well, you’re here now.”

he looks up at you then with an unconcealed reverence that makes your heart lurch in your chest, eyes softening around the edges, holding that mix of confusion and hope that makes him look almost boyish. “yeah, i am.”

the silence stretches, but this time it’s warm, inviting. you can see him wrestling with something, the way his jaw tightens, loosens, the way his thumb traces a line across the wood of the bench as if trying to ground himself.

“it’s strange,” he starts, eyes flickering to yours before darting away again, “this..” he nods to the space inbetween you, “feels like more than i deserve.”

your gaze lingers on him, and you swallow back the pool of savila resting on your tongue. “maybe we’re both not good at this,” you whisper, a shy honesty threading through your voice. “but i think we could be.”

he blinks. “you think so?”

“yeah,” you say, the word barely more than a breath but heavy with everything you mean. “i do.”

and for the first time in years, he lets himself believe it.

[revelboo]

Stop, we're too full of your delicious meals. We can't take anymore of it. 😫 (still have room for anything masterpiece of a fanfiction you have blessed us for today and more. 🤭) I don't think I've seen you done rodimus or not. Think you can whip him up one? 😗

I did, but also haven’t updated the Masterlist since it’s a pain on my phone. Here’s part two, though

Attractive Today Pt 2

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

• “Nothing broken, but probably a concussion,” Ratchet grumbles, drawing back from the limp form sprawled on a Cybertronian sized exam table to lightly smack the scanner against his other palm. Like he’s thinking about hitting him with it, even though this isn’t his fault. How can he possibly know what everyone on the ship is doing all the time? Co-captain doesn’t mean watching the crew all the time to make sure no one’s doing something stupid. It shouldn’t anyway. “How many of them are there?”

• Spreading his hands in a shrug makes Ratchet’s servos tighten on the scanner. “Brainstorm was a bit vague on that part,” Rodimus says, attention dropping to the human. They’re tiny, but surely if there were more, they’d have been noticed already. He hadn’t brought up Brainstorm’s vague and oddly threatening ‘not on the ship,’ either. Because he’s not at all happy with the implications of that. “I don’t suppose you might-“

• “Absolutely not,” Ratchet cuts him off, now brandishing the scanner like a weapon. “That isn’t my problem, captain.”

“Co-captain,” he mutters, gingerly picking the human up and trying to not shudder at how disconcertingly limp it is in his hand. Megatron was supposed to be the one handling the boring, responsible stuff. Like reports and making sure stuff like this isn’t happening.

• Whirl had wanted it, but actually handing over a very small, very helpless thing to that lunatic? Almost as bad as the idea of more humans left behind on planets or ships they’d interacted with or passed too near. Or just floating out in space like horrifying, frozen markers behind the ship. That he refuses to think about. Maybe Mags will take it? He likes humans. Possibly. Striding out of the Medbay in search of Magnus, he starts running through possible alternate human sitters. Swerve?

• Head pounding, you squint your eyes open with a groan and lift a hand to touch your temple. Or try to. Your arms are pinned at your sides and whatever’s restraining you is warm, shifting slightly against you. And with dawning horror you remember that awful metal chicken-legged abomination snatching at you with those claws while the other one egged him on. Chasing you. There’s been a third one, right? Right, turning your head you stare up at the red and yellow nightmare staring down at you in surprise. “Hey,” it says, flashing a lot of big teeth in a big mouth.

• And you’re screaming again, and Primus, you have some volume. “Don’t eat me!” You wail, thumping your tiny fists against his servos like you think you can fend him off from… eating you? Well, that explains a lot of the panicked run straight into a wall. But where had you gotten the ideal that Cybertronians eat humans from? Growling under his breath, he tightens his grip as you try to squirm right out of his hand, completely oblivious to the possible fall. Fragging Whirl.

Previous

[quarterlifekitty]

Cw: hybrids, blood, mentions of getting sheared lol. I included a picture of an animal with blood on it, but the animal is NOT injured.

Ngl I’ve been really into @moondirti ‘s sheep girl AU and I just remembered the existence of anti-wolf collars and uhhhhhh…. Thinking about a hybrid AU where sheep!reader is in a flock guarded by Pyrenees!König. This could work with so many of them, but I thought of him first.

He wears the traditional collar to defend him from wolves. He fights them off to keep you safe. You were the runt of your lambkin, back when he was still just being trained, and he bonded to you right away.

He follows you everywhere. Chases you anywhere. Hates that he gets worried sick when you curiously wander off.

He’s ended the lives of more predators than he can count. He tries his best not to do it in front of you. But you’ve seen it once or twice. He’s come sprinting when you’ve bleated out for him— a ways from the rest of the flock and being advanced upon by a lone wolf. It tried to tear him apart by the neck, but the collar protected him. You were found by the Shepard, pressed close to his body while his fur dripped with still-warm blood.

His heart and cock ache at the sight of you. He knows he isn’t supposed to feel this way— sheep and their guard dog often bond very closely, but not as close as you have. Despite your size, you’re a very pretty, prized thing. Your wool grows quick and full, the crimping dense and curly, with a lustrous sheen. (Uhm not to be size kink on main but maybe she’s a babydoll sheep heeheehee). You’re not just common stock— the owners will want you bred and full of lambs of your own come spring. They’ll pick out their best ram— maybe even one from another ranch— just for you. He can already see how the rams in the flock nuzzle and huff at you affectionately— a preamble to how they’ll lock horns over you once the breeding season starts proper. König puzzlingly replicates some of this behavior, maybe even unconsciously— he just yearns so deeply to be close to you.

He watches with great interest when you’re sheared. Your lanolin stems your bleeding before it can begin when you get nicked, but he licks the wound anyways. Keeps you curled with him when the wind is blowing fierce in the valley and you don’t have the wool to keep you warm.

He struggles deeply with his sense of duty. You’re a thing of value to the humans. He was born to keep you pristine and safe so they could do with you as they pleased. But he can see and hear— the way you wrinkle your nose and bleat with discomfort when being crowded by the rams. You never do that with him.

He’s only ever known loyalty. He was given a purpose from the moment he could stand a bark, and it isn’t something he takes lightly. But he’s starting to think he’d throw it all away if you only wanted him to.

There’s something about you that makes him wish more than anything that he’d been born a selfish, greedy beast instead of a noble one.

[sunshyni]

— my oh my. Johnny Suh

A leaked message stating the obvious about Johnny was enough for you to finally have him.

johnny x Reader | Fluff but suggestive 🤭 | w.c: 1k

— Oh my God, those jeans are killer — Jaehyun started, practically squirming on the couch in the living room of the frat house where he, Johnny, Doyoung, and a few other guys lived. It was crazy how magnetic your presence was; every eye in the room turned to you when you walked in, like it was automatic. — What's her deal, huh?

— Aww, are you like this ‘cause she turned you down? — Johnny asked, sipping a beer and watching you, not like a creep, just admiring. You really were stunning, not only in looks but in brains, too. You worked part-time at a luxury store at the airport and were always looking flawless, though Johnny figured you’d still look flawless even with messy hair.

— Go on, alright? Everyone knows she’s into you, lover boy — Jaehyun pouted, which made Johnny grin and pinch his cheek like he was a little kid; with that look, he actually did look like a baby.

— Don’t play the victim. You’ll have plenty of girls chasing you — he rolled his eyes, and Johnny gave him a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder, then walked over to you, touching your waist softly when he reached you, his hand brushing against your soft skin peeking out from your crop top. — Hey.

— Hey — you practically choked out. Johnny grinned, leaving you a bit speechless. Your natural hair and the low-rise jeans you wore made you look absolutely perfect, but the blush on your cheeks, even before you’d had a drink, gave you an angelic vibe Johnny found himself totally obsessed with.

— You were amazing in the seminar today — he had to say something. You knew that now everyone knew about your crush on him, thanks to that accidentally leaked message to the whole school. It wasn’t anything sexual, but it did make him sound like some Greek god, which Johnny found funny and cute, even if he was already confident in himself. It was the first time someone had complimented him like that.

— Ah, I had to take a shot just before it started so I wouldn’t stammer — you admitted, suddenly unsure of what to do with your hands. How close were two people supposed to be when they weren’t actually a thing? Because right now, you felt incredibly close to him and wanted to laugh nervously. — John… about those messages, I didn’t mean…

— Nuzzle your face in my chest? You can do that — you couldn’t help it and laughed, covering your face with your hands like a shy little girl. You’d vented to the wrong person, that was clear, or your messages wouldn’t have been leaked, but everyone agreed with your words, including Johnny himself. He held you, guiding you back until your back met the wall. — What else do you want to do that you didn’t describe in those messages?

— Should I say it? — you smiled playfully, and Johnny smiled back, hooking a finger through the belt loop of your jeans, pulling you closer. Maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was the green light you gave for him to touch you, but he pulled you a bit closer by the waistband and leaned down to kiss your neck, licking the skin, sucking, and lightly grazing his teeth.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips before you realized. You definitely loved flirting, touches, and making out; you’d never gone all the way, and you felt nervous about how skilled Johnny seemed to be with his mouth, his hands, his whole body, honestly.

— I’ve been wanting to get close to you for a while but always thought you were kinda untouchable — Johnny admitted against your skin, and you practically burst at his confession. You had a confident air, like you didn’t care about anyone’s opinion, but all you wanted was for Johnny to feel the same way.

— Maybe for other guys… but not for you — you said with a smile, and Johnny moved even closer, kissing your cheek, the corner of your lips, but never quite reaching where you wanted. He was teasing, and you knew it from the little smirk he’d flash between a firm squeeze and a soft press of his lips against your skin. — Oh, for heaven’s sake, John.

You grabbed his silver chain that peeked out from his shirt, pulled it free, and kissed him, hard, filled with want, like you were devouring each other against the wall near the frat house door. Johnny tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled back gently, letting you catch your breath, both of you breathing heavily.

— Come on — he said, taking your hand and leading you up the stairs. You followed, weaving past people with drinks in hand, bumping into a few on the way. Johnny opened his room door, which he likely shared with another guy, given the second bed on the right side.

It looked like a typical high school guy’s room, which was kind of cute. Johnny had a shelf full of comics, and his room had its own bathroom; on the doorframe, there was a pull-up bar you couldn’t help but admire, picturing the sight of a shirtless Johnny using it. You felt like a little girl, and maybe, with him, that’s exactly what you were.

— Astroboy? — you asked, playing with a little figurine on his shelf.

— It suits me, doesn’t it?

— Definitely, you’re a star.

You smiled, watching him sitting on the single bed, then followed, sitting across from him, kissing him slowly, your hands exploring his chest with calm. Somehow, Johnny got you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you had to kick off your shoes in the process, which made him chuckle against your lips. Johnny caressed your back as his mouth explored your neck, kissing your skin so delicately it felt like his lips were velvet.

— Johnny… — you began, and he immediately met your gaze. — Hold on, it’s all good. It’s just that… I’ve never…

— Never? — he knew exactly what you meant.

— Only once, almost… but I freaked out, and… — Johnny left a soft kiss on your forehead.

— It’s okay; we don’t have to do anything tonight.

— But I love making out — you said, pressing your bodies even closer, and Johnny grinned, thinking you were way too perfect to be real.

— Me too. So much.

@sunshyni. All rights reserved.

[reasonsweweresinging]

Dean couldn't believe he was doing this. But it was impossible to resist his kid when his kid was crying, and Chase had been crying for twenty minutes. Chase’s favorite doll, an alien-bird-human hybrid thing drawn up by some kid in another country and created by IKEA that Chase had lost his mind over at the store, was desperately ill according to him and Dean didn't have the credentials to fix it. 

"We have to see Dr. Cas!" Chase cried, beseeching his father to help him get whatever was wrong with Wallace fixed. Dean had no idea where the name Wallace came from, but Chase was insistent that was the damn thing's name. 

It was almost 9 pm on a Sunday night and Dean doubted his pediatrician neighbor two doors down needed an unexpected visit to cure a...Wallace. "Bud, maybe Dr. Cas can't even help fix Wallace. He's not fully human."

"Dr. Cas sweared to me he could fix anything! I know he can fix Wallace, we have to go see him!" Chase’s big hazel eyes, courtesy of his mother and still somehow so similar to Dean's brother, swam with tears that rolled down his cheeks in fat drops. "Please, Dad!"

Dean couldn't resist. He couldn't deny his son. Maybe because he was a pediatrician, Dr. Cas would at least be patient enough to turn them away kindly. His neighbor hating him was a risk Dean was willing to take for his son. So Dean helped Chase bundle Wallace in a blanket, got both he and Chase into their coats, and walked them to Dr. Cas's door two houses over. The front porch light was still on, and through the rectangular frosted glass panel alongside the door, Dean could see other lights were on in the home. Maybe it wasn't too late. While Chase hugged Wallace tightly to his chest, Dean rang the doorbell and hoped once more his neighbor wouldn’t be a jerk for being disturbed so late. 

The lights blurring together behind the glass panel brightened, as if a light near the door turned on. A moment later, the locks on the door turned and Dean took a deep breath. But it was punched out of him the minute Dr. Cas appeared in the doorway. Dean had only caught glimpses of the man in the few months since he'd moved in, but never seen him fully and up close. Chase had talked to him when his mother was dropping him off one evening, as Dr. Cas was returning from a run. Seeing Dr. Cas now, Dean was certain it was because his ex-wife was trying to stop Dr. Cas to hit on him. Dean could not blame her. The dark, wild hair, the bright blue eyes, the full, soft pink lips set against warm skin and dark stubble. He was gorgeous. He was damn near perfect. And he was saying something and Dean was just staring at him.

Dean snapped out of it, just in time to hear the tail end of Dr. Cas asking his son what was wrong in a voice that was too gentle to be so deep and worn. Was Dr. Cas even real?

"Wallace is sick!" Chase cried, shoving the doll in the face of Dr. Cas. "You can fix him, right?"

Dr. Cas looked at the doll, understandably perplexed, then set those incredible blue eyes on Dean. He started to say something but stopped short, staring back at Dean for a long, unnerving moment. Dean felt himself getting lost in those eyes, but Chase crying again beside him kept him anchored to the moment. He cleared his throat, which snapped Dr. Cas back into the present as well. 

"Sorry, Doc," Dean started, "Chase insisted we come see you so you could help cure Wallace." He gave Dr. Cas a small, apologetic smile, ready for Dr. Cas to turn them away with some excuse; it was late and he had any number of things to do, he had a family to tend to, he didn't have whatever tools he needed to help Wallace and they could try again later. Something like that. 

Instead, Dr. Cas gave a small smile and looked back at Chase, taking a gentle hold of the doll. "Well, Chase, you did the right thing. I can help Wallace, but you're going to have to be my nurse, is that okay?"

Chase looked up in awe at Dr. Cas and gave an eager nod. "I can help! I'm a good helper!"

Dr. Cas smiled wide, his gums showing, nose wrinkling, and Dean felt his heart stutter. "I'll bet you are. With your help, I'm sure we'll make Wallace all better. Why don't you do me a favor and take Wallace inside. If you go straight back, you can wait with him on the couch." 

Dr. Cas gingerly handed back Wallace to Chase, and with a loud "Thank you!,” Chase ran into the house and, as Dean noted, peeking around Cas to watch him go, followed the directions and ran straight back. 

"I'm Castiel Novak," Dr. Cas said, extending hand with a little smile. 

Dean took it and gave it a firm shake. "Uh, Dean. Winchester. That's my boy Chase. Sorry to just interrupt your night like this. Please apologize to your wife for me "

Dr. Cas tilted his head to the side, that soft smile still on his face, curious. "No, no wife," he said with a shrug. "Or husband."

Enlightenment dawned on Dean's features and that last little statement had his brain running a mile a minute. "Oh. Sorry, didn't mean to assume."

"It's fine," Dr. Cas assured him. "Please, come in. I'm sure Chase is growing antsy. Has he told you any of Wallace's symptoms?"

Dean, stepping inside, paused at the question, at the genuine way Dr. Cas was regarding him, waiting for a response. He wasn't just humoring Chase, he seemed to be genuinely trying to help fix a weird, stuffed doll. Dean couldn't decide if that made the guy a weirdo or an angel masquerading as a doctor. 

Fully inside, Dean waited for Dr. Cas to close the door and began to follow him back towards Chase. "He said something about Wallace having fireskin and a knotty belly."

"I see, that does sound serious. But I'm sure with Chase's help, we'll get Wallace fixed right up." Though his tone was genuine, there was still a curl of a smile on Dr. Cas's lips. "Does Chase have an active imagination?"

"Crazy active," Dean said with a hint of mirth. Chase was always battling some evil or winning some championship or saving some planet from destruction; usually Dean was the evil, the loser, the destructor that needed defeating, but every now and again he got to be his kid's sidekick, and those were the best times. 

"That should come in very handy," Dr. Cas said as they neared the living room where Chase waited. Seated on the couch, as asked, his doll held close to his chest, Chase watched them both enter, looking earnestly at Dr. Cas as if waiting for a miracle. Dr. Cas approached the couch and knelt down in front of Chase. "Are you ready to assist me?" he asked. "It's going to be hard work, but I know you can do it."

Chase nodded, the bangs of his sandy blonde hair falling over his eyes. He brushed them haphazardly off his forehead and Dean could only shake his head. "I just wanna help Wallace." 

It was decided Dean had to wait in the waiting room (the living room) while Chase and Dr. Cas used the operating room (the kitchen), just to Dean’s left and a few feet above. Dr. Cas helped Chase prepare by cleaning the counter with him and washing their hands, while gently and easily explaining the need for cleanliness, not just in surgery, but in life. They laid Wallace out on the kitchen counter and Chase was just tall enough to help without needing something to boost him up.

Dean did his best to play up his worry, especially when Chase looked over at him. But he was mostly watching Dr. Cas, mesmerized. While he was in control of the happenings, every choice they made was made by Chase through a series of related questions from Dr. Cas. That night, Chase wasn't saving a planet or scoring the final points to win it all, but he was still a hero. 

When it was all said and done, when Wallace's fireskin had been cooled and his knotty belly untangled, both Chase and Dr. Cas came to share the results with Dean. Dean hammed it up a little in his relief, but his effusive praise of his son's ingenuity and quick-thinking was genuine. And he noticed Dr. Cas seemed to be watching him now, much the way he'd been doing with the pediatrician earlier. 

With Wallace bundled back up tightly in his blanket and feeling much better, Chase was in a hurry to leave so they could read a book and get all the rest that Dr. Cas said Wallace would need to help him recover. Dean got both he and his son back into their coats and Chase led the way to the door, Dr. Cas following them all. 

"Thank you," Dean said quietly, so that maybe only Dr. Cas could hear him. "I hope we didn't ruin your night."

Dr. Cas just gave him a smile and shook his head. "On the contrary, you livened it up quite a bit."

Reaching the door, Chase turned and threw his arms around Dr. Cas's waist. "Thank you for helping Wallace."

Though surprised at first, Dr. Cas's face melted into something softer, and he ran a hand over the back of Chase's head. "I could only help because you were such a great nurse. I hope you and Wallace have many happy days together."

"We will!"

With a chuckle, Dr. Cas reached for the door handle and opened the door, and Dean realized very suddenly that even though he had barged in on his poor unsuspecting neighbor with a crying child and a weird doll, he was disappointed they were leaving. 

Following Chase out the door and echoing the same quiet good night Dr. Cas gave them, Dean paused. He turned, looking back at Dr. Cas who had not yet started to close the door. "Is uh, there any way I could maybe take you out for a drink one night? You know, to say thanks." 

The smile that curled onto Dr. Cas's face was slow and maybe even a little shy, but his features were alight, as though maybe he was glowing. "How about you just take me out for a drink, no thanks necessary?"

Dean grinned, nodding. "It's a date."

[nottswitch]

hey! i lovelovelove your writing and i was hoping you could do a fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader (fem) and theyre just being cute and fluffy at the library brainstorming products and he suddenly ropes the reader into a prank and the reader pretends to disapprove but after a lot of banter she eventually admits that she does think hes brilliant and just. fluff.

thank you!

hi there and thank you! <3 i’m so sorry it took me this long to get to your request, but i hope you’re still here!! love the fred x ravenclaw dynamic so so much, i hope you enjoy this!

warning: ravenclaw!reader, light swearing, fluff fluff fluff

wc: 1.3k

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; fred m-list ; how to request

When Fred got you, he was, for the lack of a better word, absolutely thrilled. Not only were you absolutely gorgeous and could handle his and George’s sense of humor, you were also a Ravenclaw – and the top of your class, no less, which for the Weasley brothers was similar to hitting a gold mine. It was only a matter of time before they could, using their irresistible charm and maybe some of Fred’s personal tactics, persuade you to help them with new developments for the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shop. And you did from time to time, reluctantly, as it wasn’t entirely appropriate for a prim and proper Ravenclaw like you, but you secretly enjoyed it.

On one of those days, on a warm, spring evening, you were sitting at the library, studying, as usual. As your nose was firmly in a Potions book, you didn’t hear footsteps slowly approaching you from behind. Only when a pair of soft yet firm hands obstructed your view of the academic text did you realize that you’d been creeped up on.

“Guess who?” a familiar voice with an unmistakable hint of mischief wondered. You giggled and pressed your hands against his, even though there was no real need – you’d recognize them anywhere.

“Freddie,” you murmured, a smile spreading on your lips. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a while, and the unexpected encounter was more than welcome, in your book.

"In the flesh."

Your eyes ached a bit after the hands covering them were removed and the warm, bright light of the library candles hit them again. But the ache was quickly soothed by a pair of lips pressed against yours in a short yet passion-filled kiss. You frowned when Fred pulled away, your face jerking forward to chase him, but the grin stretching his mouth immediately erased the crease between your eyebrows. You could never be upset when he looked this happy.

"Studying again?" Fred asked, smirking as he mindlessly flipped through the pages of the book in front of you, not paying the texts any real attention. You nodded, letting out a sigh – of course, for someone as smart as you, studying wasn’t the biggest chore, but sometimes, even the greatest of minds needed some rest, some distraction.

Seeing your covertly tired expression, Fred’s eyes softened, but the mischievous smirk on his lips never left. "Come on, honey cheeks, lighten up," he said in a lighthearted manner, plopping down into the chair next to you and closing your textbook shut with a loud noise.

"Fred!” you whisper-yelled, hoping that Madam Pince didn’t hear the sudden disturbance of the silence in her precious library. Your boyfriend simply grinned, seemingly unbothered, and rummaged through his bag for a moment. With a victorious ‘got it!’ he fished out a small bar of what looked like chocolate and placed it on the table, giving you a proud look.

The look should’ve been a clear sign, but your hand still reached for the bar, thinking it was just one of the usual sweets Fred got you from time to time, “just to see your pretty smile”, as he himself put it. But evidently, it wasn’t the case, because his hand quickly moved to shield the chocolate from yours.

"Oh no, hun, I wouldn’t eat it if I were you," Fred said, the smirk on his lips widening, making a dimple on his left cheek pop out. "Unless you want to have your ears wiping the ground, that is."

You raised an eyebrow in confusion at first, but as the gears in your brain turned, you started understanding exactly what was happening. The realization made you roll your eyes.

"Again?" you breathed out, looking at Fred with an exasperated but also somewhat amused expression. It seemed like every week him and George would come up with something new for their shop, and this time, it seemed to be… a chocolate bar.

"Oh, you know it, honey cheeks."

Fred grabbed the product, tossing it into the air, catching it and swiftly bringing it to your face, which made you flinch and giggle at the same time.

"Let me present to you, my love, the best punishment for the especially nosy – Prying Prick’s Plague. The title’s a work in progress."

You chuckled, shaking your head at his antics. It wasn’t the first time, and of course, wouldn’t be the last, you knew it all too well. You pretended to give him a disapproving look about the ‘prick’ part, but all that came out was a very adorable – in Fred’s opinion – scowl.

"What?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow back at you. He twirled the chocolate bar between his nimble fingers, tossing and catching it again. "It makes your ears turn really damn huge. Just what nosy pricks need."

"Yeah? Why do I feel like this was made with someone in mind?" You narrowed your eyes at the boy in front of you, suspiciously staring him down. He looked a bit too mischievous even for his usual self.

"Ah, darling, perceptive as always," Fred praised in a dramatic manner, giving you a pat on the back. You rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. "We did have someone in mind. And here, my love, is where you come into the picture."

"Huh?"

You furrowed your forehead, your expression turning a bit dumbfounded. Sure, the brothers appreciated your expertise on their stuff, but they had never tried to actually… use you in one of their endless pranks. And it seemed like Fred was suggesting exactly that.

Fred let out a short chuckle at your cute, puzzled face, and reached out with his hand to caress your hair, as if he was soothing you. A ‘tsk’ could be heard coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t pull away, letting him pet you.

"Don’t worry, hun, it’s nothing too bad," Fred murmured, but the smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth was too playful for your liking. "You’re tutoring Malfoy in Herbology, right?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, irritation briefly flicking through the depth of your eyes. The guy’s ambition to become a Healer was a commendable one, but his skills in Herbology were, for the lack of a better word, not present.

"And you would agree that he’s a prying prick, right?"

"Um…"

Sure, Malfoy could be annoying. And he always seemed to have his nose in everybody’s business, thinking his "valuable input" was, in fact, valuable. But surely, Fred didn’t mean…?

"Yeah." Fred’s single word seemed to confirm your thoughts, as if he was reading your mind.

"No way. You actually want to…?"

"And with your help, no less."

Fred grinned when the scowl on your face turned even more disapproving. He slipped his hand from your head down to your face, her knuckles softly brushing against the apples of your cheeks. He always thought you were totally adorable like that, all mad at him for yet another disturbance of peace he was planning to cause. This time, it was even better, since you were also going to be involved. And he knew that you were going to – even underneath your prim and proper exterior, a spark of excitement always flickered whenever he told you about his and George’s pranks.

"Merlin, you’re insufferable," you groaned, still leaning into Fred’s touch, unable to resist the warmth of his loving hand caressing your face.

"And you love it, hun," he responded, giving you a sly wink, knowing exactly what it always did to you. "Just admit it – I’m brilliant. And my dear brother, of course, but mostly me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you muttered, begrudgingly agreeing with his cocky statement. The image of Malfoy with huge floppy ears was indeed a pretty hilarious one, and his inevitable tantrum would definitely be a sight to behold.

Fred laughed at your reluctant admission of his superior thinking and affectionately pecked your cheek. What a delight you were – gorgeous, smart and secretly, a bit wicked. His dream girl.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Wearing their robes (COTL 1/2)

Part two might have the lamb, narinder, baal and aym maybe we will see!!

Characters: Leshy, Heket, Kallamar, Shamura

Notes: reader is gn, follower bishops, idc if it was 80 degrees the day I wrote this I yearn for cold weather

CWs: none

LESHY

Assuming he's not going to let you slip into his robes whenever you want.... genuinely a great option to snuggle into it- his weird fur moss leaf stuff feels nice

Drags you around in his robes wherever, you may have to speed up to keep up or simply cling onto him

Outwardly teases you for doing it out of just wanting to be close to him inwardly is feeling some sort of way...

You may be trapped with him for a while though so hopefully you're down with that!

HEKET

Similar to her older brother she would not at all be pleased with her robes going missing but you get a pass- anyone else would get so many nasty things said to them

Actually let's you keep it without much resistance, if it's too cold for her to stay outside she's either going to drag you to one of the fires set around the grounds or she's going to pull you inside

May or may not tease you for stealing from her because you miss her, to outsiders it may come off as her genuinely berating you but you know her well enough that she's not

It's the rough voice and generally leaning into the harsher words she does adore you </3

KALLAMAR

Legitimately starts going nuts when he notices it goes missing because there's so many gems and it was his favorite coat- if it were anyone else who took it he would rip it off of them in an instant.... if... he were still a "mighty" bishop... but alas it's only you

Matching coats... matching coats.... oough... demands whoevers working at the tailor to make you a matching coat. Kallamar I love you but he definitely would be a little.. hmm.. with customer service... pre being humbled in the cult arcs

Lets it go to his head if you did it because you missed him- despite that he doesn't do anything to chase that high such as dangling his time and affection for you above your head.. thafs.. not really his style plus he cant keep to himself (/nonsexually in this context)

Would slip you into his robes to keep you close and warm

SHAMURA

Where did... did they leave it behind somewhere..? No you just nabbed it while they were looking

Genuinely offers to make/get you a robe if you're cold.... definitely would use their own silk to make it.. its... actually a sweet sentiment

Oh you missed them too..? They're right here! They make plans to spend time with you between their responsibilities in the cult... they feel a little guilty that they've been away for so long that you started to miss them

Will take you seriously even if you're only joking/being light hearted about being cold or lonely

[gotwcird]

it's funny how many things star has learned about herself just within this first hour of having sex with nico. it's a small realization she has when she moans again because he pulls on her hair, makes her shiver with a pleasure she's quickly enjoying more of. uses it to egg on her sloppy movements, to chase the bits of friction she can reach against the blanket between her legs. ( barely computes the hand he places against her heart, going rabbit-like in how it's beating. ) other things she's learned: she can cum very hard, she likes when he fucks her rough, and apparently she enjoys giving blowjobs. that the feeling of him jerking his hips up high, breaching deeper into her throat, is making her impossibly wet and needy. that when she gags softly around him, she's also clenching, wriggling her hips to chase any kind of relief.

her saliva that's coating him is viscous, slick and new to her, plus makes things easier too. she's bobbing her head quick around him, sucking hard and trying to remember how to breathe. would be curious about the newness of it if she wasn't buzzed from his cock and the way he's cursing out her name. feels like she's reached sainthood and become a demon at the same time because of how he's reacting to her. he's so loud, so reactive. so unlike his usual restricted movements that her eyes don't want to blink. she wants to drink every sound and reaction from him. is enjoying how he's tugging on her, pushing and pulling and bringing him deeper into her warmth that she doesn't realize he's cumming until the heat of his seed hits the back of her throat. her eyes widen — excited, surprised, needy — as she takes all of him. suctions her mouth to make sure none of it escapes as she swallows him down, feels his cock twitch and writhe in her mouth while he pushes her. byeol complies too, even if she needs to take deep breaths.

she pulls her mouth up from his length slowly, makes sure she's swallowed everything as she reaches his tip below letting his softening dick go with a pop of her mouth. can't even deny at this point that she liked that. liked his taste and how it overtook all her senses for a bit — clean with a little edge and somehow still pleasant. star is looking up at him eagerly, heart jumping giddily when he speaks again. "really?" it's slightly ridiculous how that statement pleases her. how she, with her limited and rusty skills, could make him feel so good that he's still reeling from it. that she had enough of an effect on him that he has been moaning out her name in unbridled ecstasy and relief. ( all of which she'll probably think to again and again, will probably rub herself raw to the memory. )

"was it good?" she asks a little clumsily, part of the words breathed softly as she crawls up from her position. his confession is enough, but she wants to hear him say more. praise her again and again, sate that selfish little thing in her chest that's come out to play in full force since her first orgasm. she lays on top of nico, revels in the heat that he's emanating. "did you feel good?" breathes the words onto his lips as her hands go up to run through his hair. kisses him tenderly, maybe even a little chaste, wants to let him pull her deeper if he desires. notices that in the moment too: that she likes when he pushes, when he takes what he wants from her. that he could do whatever to her, use her however he pleases, and she'd still say thank you. "you taste really nice."

THE MOAN SHE LETS OUT when he pulls her hair . . he notes that . he wants that . he never thought she'd even like the idea of hair pulling or the aspect of anything rough and now it's becoming more clear to him that he couldn't have been more wrong . he bookmarks it . locks it in his brain . reminds himself to talk to her about it later and ask her everything everything everything . he uses her moan as an allowance and tugs her hair back again , with more care this time though . CAUTIOUS .

NICO NOTES THE WAY SHE MOVES . his eyes zero in on her , past her mouth , to see the way her hips move and oh god . yeah . yes . he's going to spend a lot of time there later . he's going to do anything she wants . he's going to bury his head between her legs and devour her , if she'll let him . his hand slides from her cheek down , down , down . past her neck . to her chest . open palm he slides it against her sternum , feeling her erratic heartbeat there . " do that again . " he lets out, voice raspy . his eyes aren't talking about her on his cock anymore . rather the opposite . no he's looking at HER . at the way she tries to pleasure herself . at the way she sounds and looks when she's squirming in desire . he could watch her do just that all night if she let him .

his entire body is a hot coil . he's twisting and turning , gasps leaving his mouth unceremoniously now , building higher and higher . it's unrestrained , almost animalistic of him as he jerks his hips up again , sliding his cock deeper into her mouth . SHE FEELS SO GOOD . SO GOOD . SO GOOD . he pants desperately , his entire body flexing and unflexing . when she slides back , he watches her with earnest and passion . then . . . " ohmyfuckinggod. STAR . " he wants to repeat her name on and on , repeat it until she realises what she's done to him . he wants to thrust more and more . he wants to bury his cock in her . he wants to keep going . . . he doesn't know how he'll ever stop now that he knows what the inside of her and her mouth feels like . all pink and soft and warm and " fucking hell . " if possible she looks even better as she sucks on the tip of him . he lets out a groan so loud and unrestrained that he knows he'd be embarrassed in any other situation . his hands cling to her hair , gripping at her . pulling . tugging . pushing . giving and taking . he nods insistently as she whispers those sweet words , asking for him to cum and it sounds so magical and sweet from her lips . it sounds so good that he -

he feels himself tip over . he twitches and jerks and suddenly heat washes over him in waves and waves , as if trying to drown him . he isn't sure what he says . he isn't sure what he even sounds like . only that he's calling out her name , saying yes over and again , murmuring that he's orgasming . that he's cumming . and he does . he does . he feels himself empty inside of her mouth and he doesn't have the capacity to feel as bad as he probably should . his hips twist up and up , at the same time his hands gently push , because he feels so beyond sensitive and raw . nico can feel a sheen of sweat on him , twisting in her sheets . he exhales long and slow and reopens his eyes to look down at her , still between his legs . so close to his now softening cock . " i - i don't think i've ever cum that hard in my life . " he lets out , voice weak.

[kingkatsuki]

Dick from a guy that thinks you’re too good for him.

[egophiliac]

(it probably wasn't actually Idia's fault)

(or was it)

some quick initial reactions to celebrate Diasomnia Day One! it felt like a bit of a short intro, but oh, what a tasting menu of things to come.

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"Mmm. You've always landed on your feet against all odds, more or less. And as I recall whenever you witches get together a lot of people suffer needlessly anyways. Draw a lot of ire. Maybe your fellow Lodge members have finally figured it out, between Radovid and Emhyr. You Aretuza 'ladies' are better off staying apart. I've kept tabs on all of you, among other mages, to be on the safe side. You, Stregobor and Eltibald, the old Council of Mages and Lodge really, are the reasons I've invested in Kovir's Dimeritium market over the years. You folk got my gratitude there, stuff saved my life and others more than a few times against all manner of magic throwing hags."

Eskel's low tone observed languidly, with a chuckle under his breath, viper eyes still watching the breakfast seemingly prepare itself, appetite growing all the while. He recalled the times in the past when Sabrina had made him breakfast, after a reignited passionate affair when their paths crossed, those times he had actually stayed afterwords, albeit usually briefly. Even in a royal bed or two together, back when she had been held high up on the Unicorn Dynasty's good side, a top place in their court, dressed in those familiar dresses of hers with the choker. Typically after they fought, of course, and he had contemplated seriously for the thousandth time slaying her. It was something he couldn't recall many others having done for him... more often they were gone by the time he woke, especially upper class ladies who couldn't afford to be seen or discovered laying with something like him... it would destroy their social standing and reputations. It was funny that one he despised and cared for in equal parts would seek to take care of him and his needs, where others better in most ways treated him like a Catriona plague carrying monster once they had gotten out of him what they desired. A completed contract, a monster slain, a curse lifted, an exorcism performed... and a roll around in their bed, or in the hay. Commoner and noble ladies alike... two of a kind, when it came down to it, where Witchers were concerned.

It figured it was his curse to be condemned to Sabrina, from the moment she had come chasing Deidre to Kaer Morhen... the moment she had saved him from a near death that had been her own fault and his alike, when it came down to it. It was his eternal punishment for failing and fleeing from his destiny... betraying Deidre as he had. It had never been as passionate and intense as it was when they lay together, with their magical bond. They were addicted to one another, bound by forces beyond either of their control, regardless of what they were capable of. He hated her... but hated that he needed her even more. At least he was aware, and ready for the worst, unlike Geralt or Lambert, smitten and blind to the machinations of their own Sorceresses. And at least he was still firmly on the Path. The Witcher began kissing along her neck slowly, hands moving about her perfect, pale body, one rising to her sizable breasts to fondle them, the other settling down between her legs to slowly, teasingly rub her womanhood again, lightly. Distracting her a bit as she carried out magically preparing their breakfast, a smirk writ large on his blade marred visage. Deep, amused and aroused voice murmuring in her ear again more boldly and gradually. The heat in his blood burning hotter, despite himself, but remaining in control of his desires, enjoying their faintly hostile flirtations almost as much as the intimacy.

"Ah... the limitations and over reliance on magic. Story of mages lives. Besides attempting to seize royal power, murdering, conspiring, along with creating and unleashing monsters on the world, of course. Destroying Witcher Schools as well, once we did their dirty work they considered beneath them. Better to have flesh and blood men around than magical youth, I reckon. Those that can handle you properly. Scared of losing me again, Madam Glevissig? I'm touched. Couldn't run away from you for long if I tried, and I have tried over the years. Even death didn't stop it. Besides, learned my lesson the hard way on attempting to defy destiny, as you doubtless recall. Figure the sensible thing to do then is enjoy myself with you, make the most of circumstances. Who knows, maybe if you ask me real nice, I may just come with you willingly, wherever you're headed next. Ain't like Witchers are on a strict schedule, on the Path, outside returning to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Can pick up contracts along our way. And you do have them useful portals, I recall."

@fallesto

“That is the problem, a dying breeds my kind is, your own as well. The lands have changed, wars and all of that happening here, there, everywhere you look, besides most of the witches I know, had fled or shared a fate that I had, and I have no intentions of aiding any of them, they left me to my fate when they could have done something about it and so I will do the same and focus only on myself. You would think my troubles would learn their lessons by now and leave me alone, but alas even now they are trying to nip at my heels, and not in a pleasing manner, it is annoying.”

He would remain there and she would as well for the time being, speaking about there paths and there lives as well, where they are and what they had to do. She had cheated death itself, something she could not have done without his aid, something that she would sooner die once more than to ever admit that her life had literally been within his hands at one point and he had made the choice to save it when he had every single right to throw it away. She knew a little about what he was going through, despite the hard and cruel fall from grace, from her courts, her castle and the court she had a firm and tight grip on. An entire kingdom she ruled, the king there, to be seen and not heard, that everything went through her and no one else, only makes since her kingdom would crumble and fall into ruin the moment she was removed from power and from court as well, fools. Yet she cared little, despite living back in a forest, ugh. She had a network, of spies and allies, who would keep an eye on the witcher and others for her, to ensure that if the time comes she needed them, she would come to them when they are desperate, like her, on fallen knees and waiting for that hand to be held out to them to pull them back up, only thing with him is that he would sooner swat the hand away and ensure the horrid little life he has, filled with so many problems, than to take her hand and be pulled up anew, but that was hardly something that needed to be talked about.

Still he had asked for breakfast, and she was tempted to have him do the walk of shame back to the nearest village, to have him awaken, naked on the forest floor, her tent, her scent, her presence, all removed and gone and him having to walk back and have nothing, amusing, very amusing, but as it was here she was, listening to the hum of his little medallion on his chest, as she lazily had her magic, take care of the most basic and such human task for her, all she had to do was lift a finger, and have the items around the tent, move with her flow and begin to make the breakfast for her, as she had no intention, of getting up out of bed and doing it herself, why? When she can use and abuse magic to do it for her, all that knowledge and all that power, might as well be put to use. She would close her eyes, feel his hand cup a feel and be bold and daring, and she did nothing other than direct the traffic of the plates and glasses to a table, to have it laid out and laying there for when the time demands for it, before she felt herself moved, to lay on her side, him behind her, holding her, just – hugging her. When truly she was more used to lovers, being gone before the dawn, or her being long gone before they would even know were they are or what had happened, as she remained still for the moment and pushed him back against him to give him the right, the honour and about all the privilege to hold her in such a manner.

“Despite my magic, I need something to make something, you know this. Otherwise, it is limited and while that illusion of the boy, is good company, there are somethings that youth cannot do, he is only there to tend to the worthless tasks that I cannot do and to keep this place cleaned as well, as good as company as he might be, you have seen that for the time being I don’t need him. Besides, I will be leaving here anyway, outstayed my welcome, need to move on and find another location to set up so I will be departing when you are, so enjoy this time then, and besides, you have never been one for looking a gift horse in the mouth, I know this better than anyone. Stay a while, and maybe longer, I’ll cover your contracts, but you already know this … looking for an excuse to run away again?”

[claitea]

kingdom hearts au where n is split into a nobody and heartless who search for reshiram and zekrom respectively. is this anything

[bacchuschucklefuck]

the never stop blowing up vhs is where cute twinks go to get harmed

[hayaku14]

kuroba toichi you need to stay dead or im going to fucking kill you myself