#but then I kept rambling as I’m known to do

[xoblondie]

Little Dove

Dark! Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary:

TW: this part is mainly story building and there will be a few parts. (I’m thinking 3ish?) Smut in next parts though ;)

A lantern flame illuminated your face as you shuffled between pages of old parchments.

Stuck behind a makeshift desk on a dingy ministry basement floor, the leaking of old pipes was the only thing keeping you company. You had applied to work as reporter for the Daily Prophet, always having a passion for writing, but yet you found yourself as an intern. Your job had you filing others articles, as you sat alone in a secluded office in the corner of hundreds of filing cabinets and bookshelves.

The sound of wings startle you from your work as an owl swoops between the lines of wooden shelves. Dropping a note on your desk and swooping back around the shelves out of site, leaving you alone yet again. Picking up the scribbled parchment you read it and almost jump with joy. The note from your boss giving you an excuse to escape your mildew prison.

Meet me in my office.

- R. Skeeter

You almost trip as you pull yourself out of your desk, not wanting to keep her waiting long. Smoothing your skirt and tucking back your frizzy hair with a scrunchie, you walk through the maze before you to the other side of the room. Before you the golden elevator Gate appears and you step in, taking the enchanted elevator up to Rita’s private office. When you get to her door, you to move your knuckles up to the large wooden door but with a swift motion, you are pulled within.

“No need dear, I knew you were here.” Her mewling voice chimed as she peered up from her green frames. Her bright blonde hair glittered in its pinned curls, accentuating the crimson lipstick she wore. Behind her, her magical quill was scribbling down your every move hastily, as to not miss a single movement you made. She smiles at you as she sets down her own papers and a chair appears with a quick flick of her wand, opposite from her.

“Now have a seat.” You sit down across from her at the chair she conjured, crossing your ankles to appear more mature.

“From what i remember you were a slytherin correct?”

“Yes, most of family is, but we do have some Ravenclaws.” You confirm her statement.

“So I expect you’re quite smart then too?” Rita says with a playful smile. And you sheepishly nod.

“So you may remember Mattheo Riddle? He’s about your age is he not?” You feel your face flush with colour at the mention of your Hogwarts upperclassman, who had been on the front page of the Prophet many times since his time in Hogwarts. The Son of the dark lord and his right hand man. A total opposite image of the older boy you had known at Hogwarts.

“We kind of knew eachother, but he graduated before me and we didn’t talk much.”

Rita gets up and walks over to a shelf picking up a journal and bringing it back over to the desk.

“Oh dear, you’re perfect!” She almost squealed. “I just knew you would be the one for the job.”

“What job?” You shift in your seat, smoothing your skirt again.

“There’s been rumours that lavish death eater parties have been happening, but I think there is more to that story. And obviously they wont let me in. It’s all very hush-hush but you, my Dear, would be the perfect little messenger bird to send in! It’s been the talk of the town for the last week and I MUST be the first person to get my hands on the details!” Rita slides the journal over to you and you open it, skimming through her pages of notes filed with gossip of these events. You can feel her excitement buzzing off of her body. She was like a teen gossiping about her crush with you, rather than your boss.

“It’s been so tight kept that not even a, let’s say a beetle, could get into them without being detected. I can’t even polyjuice myself with the security spells they have! That’s why I need you! Slytherin family, fresh out of Hogwarts, and quite pretty! It’s the perfect mix.” You put her journal down and look up at her as she rambled on. Her hands expressing her words as she paints you her picture.

“So you want me to sneak into a couple parties and tell you what’s happening? That’s it?” Rita stops and thinks for a moment, her emerald dress sparkling in the sunlight of her office.

“Well I am asking you to go into a Death Eater party where any of them could figure out what you’re up to. I mean there is a reason no one knows what happens there Darling.” She eased back into her chair, her red lips curling up again.

“And if I say yes, what’s in it for me?” You cross your arms, waiting to hear out your options. On one hand it wouldn’t be too hard of a task to complete. But on the other, what if you were caught by the Death Eaters. She ponders for a moment, before her eyes sparkle with an idea.

“I’ll publish your work and you can become my own personal assistant.” You feel your jaw drop, failing to hide your temptation. If you were her personal assistant, you could get out of the dingy basement and write your own pieces. Without a second thought you reach your hand over to her and she takes it within her own.

“Deal.” You shake her hand and she jumps out of her seat again.

“Perfect. Let’s get you ready, you have lots to learn before the next one!”

-

If you had told yourself a month ago that you would be standing in front of the Riddle Manor, you would have checked yourself into St. Mungos immediately. The black dress that had been delivered to your office earlier that morning had somehow hugged you like it had been sewn on your body. An alteration done by Rita, no doubt. But what it had in beauty it lacked in concealing your shivers as the menacing estate welcomed you into its jaws.

On the arm of a man from the ministry, you head towards the doors with the rest of the crowd, fleeing from the cold night. He was your ticket in, a pure blood with family ties to the Dark Lord, earning himself entry. All it took was a little wing manning from Rita and he was wrapped around your finger.

Inside the decor was lavish and dark, creating a powerful ambiance around each of the death eaters and their company. Your family was not pure blood, and had never followed the dark lord like other wizarding family’s so this type of glamour made you feel like a fraud. Stuck on your dates arm, you did your best to note down everything, knowing Rita would want every detail.

As per your plan, he introduced you to others and you played up being his ditzy date.

As the night progressed you noticed high ranked Death Eaters slip away into the halls of the manor. You knew they were up to whatever Rita thought they were and knew this was your ticket to getting you big scoop. Your date had long over drank and was sitting amongst his old school friends. You sat off to the side, with the other girls who had no interest in their dates drunken states. You spot another Death eater slipping out and you decide to follow them out, telling your date you were going for some fresh air.

You watch as the man saunters down the hall, not even bothering to check behind them. When they turn the corner, you pull out your enchanted note pad and start mentally taking notes as you scurry down the hall to follow him. Your note pad starts filling up pages with the scribbles of your thoughts as you note everything you saw in the ballroom.

You follow him down a few hallways and he slips around another hallway, as you go deeper in the Labyrinth of the Manor. However as you round the corner, you are met with a dead end. A hallway where the doors had no light peeking through and no sign that anyone had been down there at all. You walk to the end, where the wall stopped your tracks and tried to inspect for any hidden doors. Anything that might lead you to find where he went and what he was doing.

As you take a step back defeated, you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You softly whisper the spell to hid your notepad and you feel someone’s hand slink its way around your waist. Startling you but stopping you from turning to see who had made contact with you.

“Who let you in here, darling.” A cold hand covers your mouth, pulling your back against his body with both hands. A muffled shout escapes your lips as you try to pull yourself away. You could feel his body language shift as he grips you tighter.

“Seems like a little birdy got out of her cage.” You could feel his hot breath against your ear. You were a mouse caught in a trap as his arms pulled you into on of the unoccupied rooms you had just passed.

As you are dragged into the room, his hand leaves your face. Turning you and pushing you against the door, your eyes make contact with Mattheo’s hardened features. This was not the boy you remembered, but a grown up and dangerous man.

“Hello little dove.”

A/N: sorry for the mini hiatus with my fics (didn’t stop me whining on my blog though haha) my life literally went to pieces with midterms, being sick and breaking up with my BF. Anyways I haven’t started on part 2 yet but I’ll definitely start that soon. As for my Theo fic, I’m stuck with the smut so that’s awkward lol.

[lavenderchqn]

𝐶𝛨𝛢𝑃𝑇𝛦𝑅 𝟎𝟐𝟗 — CONFLICTING EMOTIONS (1,9K WORDS) 𝑅𝐸𝐷 𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆 — lyney x f!reader smau

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 —

Second year of university should've been everything you thought of it - more studying with human interaction sprinkled throught... What it definitely wasn't supposed to be was an investigation saga where one of your friends goes missing out of nowhere

𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆 — 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — 𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝐸𝑃𝐼𝑆𝑂𝐷𝐸

It has been nearly a week since [Y/N] started living with Lyney. Despite recent circumstances, he stood by her, acting as her rock. In his mind, it was the least he could do for the girl, who had risked so much to find and rescue his dear sister. 

Speaking of Lyney, [Y/N] hadn’t been the only one messaged by a dear companion regarding the new chat’s creation. Beverage Gang have all informed him of the recent situation, including new revelations about the link between the kidnapper and Furina’s stalker. Known by his friends for his impulsive decisions, Lyney had surprised them all by focusing on Furina’s well-being rather than his emotions. What he hadn’t shared with his fellow friends, was the workload he and [Y/N] had taken, trying to cope with the tangled mess of everything. 

“You’re still up?” Lyney entered quietly into the guest room he had prepared for [Y/N] days prior. He held two glasses — one with an energy drink for himself, the other a weak coffee for her, mindful to not disturb her sleep pattern entirely. He weaved through the clutter of dry-erase markers, papers and notes scattered over the floor. Soon enough, he carefully got to where she was hunched — over a whiteboard he had retrieved alongside his clothes and other essentials. 

“Mhm…” [Y/N] replied softly, her tired gaze drifting to meet his. “I… I dunno… what I aam… doing.” Her eyes pointed him in the direction of the board. “Wanna take a look…?” 

Stretching carefully, she accepted the coffee and kicked some markers aside, shifting over to let Lyney sit beside her. Once he settled down, she glanced at her phone — a habit she couldn’t shake off as she anxiously waited for a response from Emilie via Furina. The silence had been agonising. 

“It’s after midnight, silly~” Lyney murmured, gently taking her phone and setting it aside. “Furu is sleeping. There won’t be any updates this late…” 

“I knowww…” She sighed, though her fatigue was clear. 

“And speaking of sleeping, I think there’s a certain girl here who could use some. 

She didn’t reply, even though her drooping eyelids agreed with his statement. Still, the look in her eyes was heavy with worry. Clorinde and Charlotte’s decision to exclude them from the investigation —though thankfully overturned— had weighed on her mind. She kept replaying the event of reading their responses to Navia in her mind, trying to make sense of why anyone would think that isolating them was the better choice. 

“You’re thinking about it again, ” Lyney said, giving her a slight nudge to bring her back to the present. 

“How can I not, Lyney…” She took a sip, her voice trailing into frustration. She began to ramble about how the exclusion had driven her to work even harder, how it would’ve only worsened her mental state. In her venting, she didn’t notice Lyney’s silence. 

“Oh.. shit — after all, fuck,  … we all excluded you.” She realised. [Y/N] didn’t hold back, acknowledging the isolation they had imposed on him, forcing him to face everything alone. “I’m so sorry again, Lyney.”

Lyney tapped her forehead lightly as if signalling her to let go of the guilt she was crippled with. “It’s okay now,” He reassured her. “It’s alright now, is it not?” 

When he noticed her lingering doubt, he slowly placed his hand over hers, tracing small circles on her knuckles to soothe her. In the quiet, he cannot but think about what might’ve happened had they investigated Lynette’s disappearance together from the get-go. Would they have made more progress? Would his sister be with them now? 

“You know…” He hugged his knees, his voice growing softer. “Maybe… maybe it was for the best, huh?” 

“Hmm…?” [Y/N] raised a curious eyebrow, yawning as she asked, “What makes you, uh, think that?” 

Lyney hesitated, considering if he should continue speaking. If he should make [Y/N] of the feelings he worked so hard to let go… But, with him starting the topic, there was no turning back. “When Lynette disappeared… all I felt was revenge.” His gaze drifted, reluctant to look at [Y/N]. “I wanted to find the person responsible… and make them feel the same pain I felt.” 

For a long time, it had consumed him, the overwhelming need for vengeance. “You have no idea,” he finally stated, meeting her eyes again. “I went to so many therapy sessions while I was gone. Thought I’d moved on…” 

[Y/N] held Lyney’s gaze, her tired eyes now softened with understanding. She had seen him vulnerable before, seen his fear — but glimpsing the depth of the anger he’d wrestled with felt different. It was as if he allowed her to witness the most carefully concealed part of himself.

She didn’t notice how her hand, still wrapped in Lyney’s gentle hold, had started to feel warm — a warmth that seemed to echo the feeling in her chest. Strange. She felt strange. 

[Y/N] suddenly becomes acutely aware of every detail. The way Lyney’s fingers unconsciously trace hers, the soft rise and fall of his breathing… the calming presence she feels whenever he’s near. She feels her heart flutter, a buildup of something unfamiliar yet undeniable. The realisation hits her like a tidal wave, almost taking her breath away. She glances at Lyney, her mind racing. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. They were friends, he was her best friend’s brother for archons’ sake… How in the middle of this chaos… had he managed to creep in and make a place in her heart? 

Her thoughts drift to the moments they’d shared— those small, quiet memories that now seemed to mean so much more. She remembers the picnic they had, and how her brain seemed to be convinced it was a date. At the time, it had been some silly thoughts… or so she’d thought. Now, she ponders if she’d enjoyed it even more had it been a date between them? 

Regardless of whatever her feelings are, this is simply not the time for them. They are in the middle of trying to figure out where Lynnette can be and the creep that kidnapped her. Romance does not fit into this agenda, regardless of how her mind wants to create scenarios of them being together. 

[Y/N] blinks a few times, trying to shift her focus to something — anything — else. Her heart is racing, and her thoughts are tangled with the realisation she just came to. It’s almost too much to process all at once, and she feels herself spiralling. 

“Hey, you there?” Lyney’s voice breaks though, and she realises he’s been trying to catch her attention. His hand is gently squeezing hers as he tilts his head, watching her with a mix of amusement and concern.

“Oh— Uh, yeah! I’m here,” She stammers, forcing herself to snap out of it. She feels a rush of embarrassment as she realises he’s probably noticed her zoning out, and worse, the warmth that must still be lingering on her cheeks.

He chuckles softly, clearly not buying her sudden composure. “The lack of sleep finally catching up, hmm?” He teases his gaze holding hers a moment longer than usual.

“Uh, yeah…” She sighs, looking at the ground. “Must be that.” 

“Alrighty,” He stands up, choosing to believe her words. Or, at the very least, pretend to believe her. “Let’s take a look at the board, huh?” Lyney is paying far too much attention to [Y/N]’s behaviour for her to feel calm at the moment. Her confused and zoned-out expression is all out there for him to witness.

“[Y/N]?” Lyney bends his body, taking a good look at his friend. “You wanted me to look at the board, right?” 

“Huh— yeah, yeah!” The girl agrees with him, slapping her cheeks a few times to try and wake herself up. “I have put everything… I remember, you know. Maybe you have some ideas how to… uh, how to connect them all together.” 

The board [Y/N] had meticulously assembled over the past few days is a stark contrast to the one Charlotte had created months before. This one is a pure mind map, filled with factual details about the kidnapper. At first glance, it looks like a scattered puzzle; some connections, like “Wriothesley’s height”, don't seem to make any sense at all. But there is no doubt [Y/N] had covered every angle, from the kidnapper’s involvement with the theatre troupe to the unfortunate information of being Furina’s stalker. That part, in particular, bore Lyney’s contributions, drawing on his firsthand knowledge of the incident surrounding their friend. 

Yet one word on the board seems to leap out at him. 

“An ‘assistant’?” Lyney asks, pointing to the term. “Are you absolutely sure about that, [Y/N]?” If this is the exact title the man had used, finding his credentials may be easier than they’d previously thought. An assistant with connections to the theatre troupe— that could be just one search away. 

“Yeah,” She answers softly. “I remember him saying that at the café, clear as day.” 

Without hesitation, Lyney grabs his laptop, mentioning for [Y/N] to join him. If he is right, they finally have a lead on the kidnapper — the one who had taken Lynette, the one who had driven Furina to tears time and time again. His eyes dart over the screen as he pulls up faculty lists and cross-references them with records from the Fontinalia group, combing through the details thoroughly. For the first time in a long while, he feels alert and truly aware, every detail clicking into place. The moment is theirs; Lyney is in control. 

Then, suddenly, he freezes. On the screen there’s a face, the very one he recognises all too well, staring back from a staff page. There, next to his full name, is the person they’d all been searching for. 

“That’s… him,” Lyney says, his voice determined as he meets [Y/N]’s gaze, determination blazing in his eyes. 

“‘Marcel Dubois — Assistant Teacher, Fontinalia Theatre Troupe’s Manager’” She reads the description out loud, the pieces finally clicking in her mind too. That’s— That’s really him. 

“He’s the one,” Lyney is sharing his thoughts without much care of dressing them with pretty words. “The fucking dick, who told us to drop the stalker thing.” Now it makes sense. No wonder he had tried to steer them away from prying further, given he was the person behind the crime. 

They both step away from the device, trying to gather their thoughts. It’s the closest they have ever been. As soon as they find where that prick is holding his hostages… everything could be over. They could get Lynette back, hopefully, safe and sound. 

Lyney, out of nowhere, grabs [Y/N]’s tired body and hugs her with as much strength as he can muster at this hour. “A genius. You’re a fucking genius, [Y/N].” He’s muttering quietly, pouring everything he can into thanking her for everything she tried to figure out about the kidnapper. Had it not been for her work, they would’ve never gotten this far. 

And [Y/N]? Well… all she can think of is trying to get her heartbeat under control. Perhaps, if Lyney asks, she can blame it on the adrenaline she’s feeling. That sounds like the most plausible excuse… to try and explain whatever she is feeling. 

It will take her a few more hours and quite a lot of water to calm her racing mind down… and for her brain to stop wishing Lyney would hug her like that more frequently. In the middle of the night, [Y/N] grabs her phone and types to one person, she wishes won’t judge her in the situation she has put herself in. 

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — OPEN

@state-of-grac3 @santaluna @meigalaxy @romyoia

@meurtreofcrows @charles-braindump @floweringanna @moonjellyfishie @vavrin @lovelypadisarah @dearanemo

@dearanemo @ladylee

date of posting — november 6th 2024

[juniperhillpatient]

“🎶dad’s going to kill you🎶”

I feel like this scene gets twisted & mixed up a lot & part of that is weird ret cons in the comics that I’d prefer not to get into but in the context of the show, let’s remember this is a 7(?) year old. Now as an adult sometimes I’ll laugh at uncomfortable moments (everyone who’s ever been to a Halloween haunted attraction with me knows I giggle maniacally when I’m scared lol) & as a kid it was even worse, laughing when people cried etc. The fact that Azula was only - what? - 5 or 6? 7? idk young - during this scene is easy to overlook because she’s just illustrated her immense intelligence. There’s a reason “gifted kids” are stereotypically socially awkward.

Kids have to learn emotional & social skills at a young age & that gets messed up when intellectual pursuits beyond their developmental stage are pushed. Also, Azula & Zuko’s positions are unique as royals in an imperialistic family. Ursa scolds Azula for violent or cruel behavior & thinks there’s something wrong with her, even though Azula is only acting the way her father encourages her to act. I’ve seen some speculation that Azula maybe didn’t think there was a real possibility that Zuko was in real danger or she’d be more scared. I disagree. She answered Azulon’s questions about the Fire Nation military flawlessly in the scene before this. She’s demonstrated that she understands the royal court with her comments about how Ozai could become Firelord. She’s also shown that she can be casual about death with her lack of reaction to Lu Ten’s death. These aren’t moral condemnations, they’re observations about her behavior.

“Azula didn’t understand that Zuko might really die” is a fine theory but I think Azula is too smart for that. I also think we have to remember what a master she is of hiding her true emotions behind a mask. She’s so good at it she can even lie to Toph, who can feel when people lie. Azula doesn’t always lie but Azula always keeps her emotions close to her chest, she’s been conditioned to believe she has to. That’s why the breakdown hurts so bad. Years of repressed hurt & fear are spilling out over her broken edges.

Azula understands the questions Azulon asks her, she’s being taught about the Fire Nation & it’s values, she knows what Azulon is capable of doing. I interpret Azula as fully understanding what’s happening. I think that’s why she tries to tease & goad Zuko into running away. It’s often ignored that regardless of how she goes about it, Azula ultimately saves Zuko’s life by talking about what she overheard. I also think she fully understood the potential repercussions. She wasn’t supposed to spy on that conversation & she knew it. She knew she was committing treason by sharing private plans made by the Firelord, let’s give her credit for her intelligence & understanding of politics.

I interpret Azula as having fully understood the situation. However, I don’t think she’s a soulless monster for laughing & teasing Zuko about it, even if it’s completely understandable that Zuko wouldn’t know how to interpret this behavior & in the aftermath, probably considers it a traumatic memory. Even years later, he chants “Azula always lies,” the mantra he said to himself that night, even though Azula wasn’t lying then. I want to be clear that I’m not discounting how traumatic this was for Zuko to hear, or for him to lose his mother & watch Azula act blasé about it afterward (even if we later see that losing Ursa affected Azula too. the emotional distance between the siblings is a tragedy. they could have been there for each other, but their situation prevented it.) Still - back to my original point - Azula isn’t emotionally mature at this point in the story. We learn in “The Beach” that even as a teen she still hasn’t learned how to behave in social settings. Why would she understand as a small child how to convey horrifying information to her brother in a proper way when she wasn’t even equipped to emotionally process what she heard herself?

The tragedy is that after Ursa leaves, the distance between Azula & Zuko grows. I can just picture them both laying in their separate rooms, thinking about that night. Azula knows that Zuko could have died, & it feels like Mom blamed her, & Mom never said goodbye to her & she doesn’t know why. The last interaction they had was Mom scolding her, & Mom always thought she was a monster…. She could become disposable to Dad too, it could happen if she doesn’t keep outdoing Zuko…. She has to always be the best, or she could be treated like Zuko….

And Zuko just keeps hearing that sing song voice in the back of his mind. Azula would have laughed if he died. Azula always hated him, & only cares about outdoing him & Mom is gone & he’s left with Dad, who only ever looks at him with disappointment & disdain… Azula keeps saying “you’ll never catch up” & the mocking hurts so bad… it’s not fair how Azula is so adored & loved & he’s all alone, he has no one… Uncle Iroh is around again, but he’s different after Lu Ten’s passing. quiet. Distant… Zuko just wants to make his father proud but the task feels more impossible every day. Then one day he begs to go into a war meeting, he wants to show that he understands the Fire Nation military. He wants to make his father proud. But what the men are saying is horrible & he just has to speak up….

[raeofgayshine]

Thinking again about the fact that when Eddie and Dustin finally convince Steve to play DnD with the party, all of them, but especially Eddie, quickly become exasperated with Steve who has extremely high charisma, and decides that he can fix almost any situation by flirting with whoever they were in conflict with. Especially the fucking monsters, this man is bound and determined to himself a monster boyfriend and until it happens, he will make every single person they come across fall in love with him. So naturally, this happens a lot:

Steve: I’m going to flirt with them

Eddie, exasperated: Steve, you can’t date this monster, he’s trying to kill you-

Steve: Hot.

Steve: I’ll flirt with them harder then

[miley1442111]

drunk confession-a.hotchner

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a/n: omg i just started watching dharma and greg (another thomas gibson show) and it's so funny like wtf (greg is such an airhead its adorable)

summary: aaron admits some very cute things when he's drunk.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader

warnings: none

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The team constantly forgets that you and Aaron are together. You two don’t touch each other at all during the job. Both of you are very pda-averse and you like your own space. 

That does not translate to a drunk Aaron.

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

It had been an awful case, and you’d decided to go out with the team for a few drinks. Somehow, Penelope and Derek had gotten Aaron so drunk, that his hands were all over you and he was sporting his little-seen smile. Your co-workers had decided to take the absolute piss out of him for it, which meant you were being mocked as well. 

“She’s so beautiful,” Aaron gushed to the team as he slung an arm over your shoulder.  

“Thanks baby,” you grumbled over the laughing of our coworkers. You could feel Aaron’s hand on your waist slipping lower and you knew you’d have to get him out of here before he did something down-right indecent. “How about we get you home? You look tired,” you offered and he nodded his head like an overactive puppy. 

After one more round of embarrassing questions, you finally get Aaron into a cab and back to your house, thank god this case had been in Washington. You laid him down on the bed and hurried to the bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed before Aaron got up to find you. Jack was long asleep, his babysitter left after you and Aaron came in, a surprised look on his face at seeing the man she’d known to be so put-together in such a state.

“Aar-” You started until you felt his hands on your waist and the rest of his body leaning on your. It took a lot of strength to keep both of you upright and not on the floor but you managed. 

“I wanna go to bed,” he slurred. 

“Then go back to bed,” you laughed.

“With you. Only with you.”

You giggled at him. “I’ll be there in 3 minutes, go lie down-”

“NO. I wanna do everything with you for the rest of my life, I’m not going to bed on my own,” he confessed with a shy smile. His confession sobered you up quite a bit. 

“Aaron, what?” Your chuckle got caught in your throat. 

“I wanna be with you for the rest of my life,” he smiled, puppy-dog eyes making you weak in the knees. 

“You’re drunk,” you dismissed him.

“I’m in love,” he ‘corrected’. 

“You’re very, very drunk.”

“I’m very, very in love,” he chuckled, pressing kisses up your shoulder as you washed away your makeup.  “Imagine it, we’d get married in a nice church, go on our honeymoon in Italy- where you’ve always wanted to go.”

“What about Jack?” You smiled at him. 

“He’d stay with Jessica for a couple weeks, I’d need some time to fuck you properly-”

“Aaron!” You chastised. Aaron became a lot more loose-tongued when he drank as well. 

“What? You don’t complain,” he laughed and it made you laugh. 

“You’re so drunk, and you’re going to be so embarrassed when i tell you in the morning,” you started to lead him to bed as he kept rambling on. 

“And when we get back we’ll find out you’re pregnant, It’ll be a girl, of course. You’ll have no complications and then a year later we’d be pregnant again, twins this time, so we’d have to move. It’ll be two more girls, and then our last kid will be a boy but we’ll also be preoccupied with Jack’s pre-teenager hatred phase so our youngest will probably have the most troublemaker-tendencies, but neither of us will mind because he’ll be so cute,” He smiled. “We’ll get one of those big houses in the country on a bunch of land. And I’ll stay at home with the kids, and you’ll work lecturing at a college nearby and we’ll be so far away from all the horrors of the BAU that we won’t even remember what happened before.”

You didn’t even realise it, but you were tearing up thinking about this beautiful life Aaron had planned for the two of you. 

“Doesn’t that sound nice?” He smiled and turned to you, his arms wrapping around your torso. 

“That sounds perfect,” you whispered through tears. “Perfect Aaron,” you smiled at him and kissed his cheek. 

“Good ‘cause I have the ring picked out, but don’t tell Y/n!” 

“I won’t don’t worry,” you chuckled and kissed his cheek again.

You fell asleep excited to tell him all the embarrassing things he admitted, and excited about the proposal yet to come. 

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

Part 2: the morning after

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[hollyseb]

YOU’RE NOT OKAY, YOU’RE SHAKING - oneshot

CEO!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: swearing, violence

just a short one for this week bc I’m in the middle of exams !! as always, please let me know what you thing :)

You’d been working as Bucky's assistant for a couple of weeks. You settled in fairly well, although you had to admit you found him a little intimidating.

You tried your best to stay out of his hair, planting his schedule on his desk before he got into the office, and scurrying out when the clock hit 5. When you did face each other, it often involved you sending him a squeaky “hi” with a small smile, and him shooting you a curt nod.

That’s why when one of Bucky’s clients was rude to you, no… downright nasty, you chose to keep your mouth shut.

Rumlow.

God, you dreaded every time you saw him on Bucky’s meeting schedule.

It started with exaggerated sighs, then emphasised head shaking whenever he laid his eyes on you. It was almost comical, really. You’d snort at his behavior if he didn’t make you feel so conscious. You could feel the dislike roiling from him.

It wasn’t until today though, that he finally let his discontempt be known.

You were acutely aware of your controversial presence at the office. You were much younger than everyone else, pretty too. So when you strolled in with your baby pink sweaters, and the fresh bouquet of flowers on your desk, you knew people were judging you.

You walked out of your office, hands clutching disordered papers, and unfortunately, you weren’t watching where you were going.

You rounded the corner and immediately collided with a wall of muscle. You were opening your mouth to spew out a hastened apology, heat rising in your cheeks, when you were cut off.

“Stupid bitch”, the man muttered, shouldering past you.

You were frozen in place, paralysed by embarrassment, unable to breathe. Your feet carried you back to your office, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You sat down in your office chair, brushing your hair behind your ears when your office door opened gently.

God no. Your boss had seen the encounter. No, no, no. You were embarrassed enough. You didn’t need Bucky to see you cry. You kept your eyes locked on the floor as he approached you.

“Hey”, his voice much more gentle than you had ever heard it before, “are you okay?” He kneeled at your chair.

“Y-yes, I’m fine really, Bucky”, you shrugged him off, avoiding his eyes. Suddenly feeling conscious at the way he had positioned himself before you.

“Look at me”, he almost sounded like he was pleading with you. He placed a hand on your knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

You looked at him through blurry vision, afraid that the waterworks would burst if he paid you any more attention. You wanted to shove him away, to tell him to let you gather yourself, like a professional would. He continued, “you’re not okay, you’re shaking”.

“I just-”, you sighed shakily, “he’s always been like this, y’know just rude…”, Bucky listened intently as you rambled on, his eyes soft and sympathetic. He really listened to you.

When you finished your venting session, you felt undeniably lighter. Bucky’s hand still sitting on your knee. His other hand rose to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. You felt heat rise in your cheeks. You’d never seen this side to Bucky, he was… almost charming.

He cut your thoughts short, “come on, let me drive you home”.

You immediately shook your head, “no, no, I can’t let you do that Bucky, and plus, you’ve got a client waiting”, hinting at Rumlows presence.

“Him?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at you sarcastically, “he was let go the second he called you stupid”.

You gaped at that, not expecting Bucky to fire one of his most frequent clients. You tried to start reasoning with him, about how one small issue couldn’t interfere with his business.

He interrupted your rambling, “you should’ve told me sooner, really”. He was guiding you up from your chair, placing a hand on your lower back and grabbing your bag for you.

Bucky drove you home, slowly and with care, keeping one hand on your knee the whole time.

When you pulled up to your apartment, your boss got out and opened the passenger door for you. A gentleman, as always. You smiled at that. Maybe your intimidating boss has a soft spot for you.

He ran a hand down your arm, “nobody will ever speak to you like that again. I’ll make sure of it.” His calm demeanor contrasting the grit in his voice. You could tell he would keep his promise.

You didn’t need to know how Bucky sped back to his office and beat Rumlow so hard his jaw broke. More importantly, you didn’t need to know the way Bucky reveled in it. The feeling of protecting you, avenging you. He was drunk on it.

Later that night, you received a bouquet of flowers, and a takeout from your favourite place. A smirk rising on your face… Bucky.

TAGLIST

@kandis-mom

[ellecdc]

can i request angst with sirius 🥲 like where reader finds out he only dated her for a bet 🧍‍♀️my hyperfixation on this trope is sickening and i hope to hear mother elle’s take on this 🙏🩷

ughhhhh I think maybe you guys hate me??? what's with the angst, my loves? why are we doing this to me? Listen: I wrote your Sirius Black dating reader for a bet..............but I made it a miscommunication trope/hurt-comfort I'M SORRY I COULDN'T DO IT. I get angst, truly, but I didn't want Sirius to actually be mean to us 😢 hope this works for you 🫶

Sirius Black x fem!reader CW: perceived bullying, miscommunication trope, hurt/comfort

Sirius Black was many things. He was a wizard, he was an animagus, he was a disinherited heir to a Pureblood family, he was a Gryffindor, he was a flirt and a friend.

One thing Sirius Black was not was a coward.

“Then go ask her out.” Peter said plainly.

Sirius scoffed. “I will do no such thing.”

“Why not?” Remus asked with a smirk. “You like her, you can’t stop staring at her, and you find every excuse in the book to be in her vicinity other than ask her out.”

“I don’t understand what your hang up is.” James added. “You’ve never had a problem asking girls out before.”

“I don’t have any hang up’s, Prongsie. I’ve never had and still don’t have a problem asking girls out.”

“Good.” Remus jumped in quickly. “So go ask her out.”

“No.” Sirius said petulantly. 

Peter’s expression grew into a mischievous smirk as he shared a knowing look with his two other friends. “Let’s make a bet then.”

This caught Sirius’ attention. “I’m listening.”

“If you don’t ask Y/N out on a date, you have to do my Astronomy homework for two weeks.” Peter offered.

Sirius scoffed. “I fail to see how this bet benefit’s me at all.”

“Well, ignoring the fact that you’d have a date with the girl of your dreams; if you do ask her out, I will do your Ancient Runes homework for two weeks.” Peter bargained.

Well…Sirius couldn’t deny that those stakes were pretty beneficial to him. 

And he could really use the help in Ancient Runes.

“Petey, my boy. You’ve got yourself a deal.” He proclaimed with a smirk as he marched his way across the library to where you were sitting. 

But by the time he got over to you…all words left his brain.

Why was this so difficult for him? He had a reputation as Hogwarts' Ladies Man. You were a lady – why couldn’t he talk to you!?

“Hello Sirius.” You greeted him warmly, putting the dumb sod out of his misery.

“Uhm, er, hi Y/N!” He returned awkwardly, grimacing at the delivery himself. You had the good graces just to smile at him, though. Gods he was a goner.

He heard snickering behind him from his friends and your eyes nervously darted over to the group.

“Uhm, was…was there something I could help you with?” You asked nervously, eyes moving between Sirius and his friends as you played nervously with the quill in your hands. 

“Uhm, no. Well, yes actually, you see…I was wondering if perhaps you might want to maybe go to Hogsmeade with me, at some point. No pressure though…” He rambled, trailing off awkwardly and grimacing once again. 

You chuckled nervously, but kept your eyes locked on his friends.

“Sirius, is…is this a prank?”

Sirius felt all colour drain from his face. 

Oh gods. Between his awkwardness and his friends all giggling like schoolgirls behind him paired with the fact they are known for their mischief, you thought he was pranking you!?

“Oh gods. Y/N, no! No, ugh, I’ve really mucked this up.” He groaned as he slumped down into a chair beside you. “It’s just…the wankers” he said, motioning to said wankers behind him, “know I’ve been uncharacteristically nervous about asking you out for a while now. They’re just having a go at me.” 

“Sirius Black? Nervous? To ask me out?” You scoffed. “Do you take me as a fool, Black?”

“No! No, Merlin, please, believe me – one date, okay? One date to prove I’m not the tosser I apparently look like right now.” He begged. Begged! Sirius Black had been diminished to begging. 

He was never going to live this down.

You narrowed your eyes and surveyed Sirius’ form whilst Sirius fought the urge to shield himself from your piercing gaze. Your eyes flit over to his friends before decision seemed to paint your features.

“Fine.” You said, “one date at Hogsmeade, this weekend.”

The way you were speaking made it sound like a formal business transaction, but Sirius beamed at you feeling slightly bolder in the face of (reluctant) agreement on your part, standing from his chair.

“You won’t regret it! I’ll meet you in the courtyard, Saturday morning – 10 am!” He called as he walked backwards towards his friends, only stumbling into one stray chair on his way.

Sirius could tell you were fighting the urge to smile or laugh, and even though you would have been laughing at him, it still felt like a win in his books. 

The Hogsmeade date was a success. In fact, you had to admit it was one of the best dates you’ve ever been on. You had been friendly enough with Sirius from your shared classes and such – but your interactions had never exceeded as much as a polite “hello” from either party. You always figured that was for the best – considering those who found themselves to be too familiar with the Marauders were often victims of their many pranks. 

You only knew the Sirius Black that the rest of the school knew:

Mischief maker, Gryffindor, quidditch beater, flirt, a player, and anti-all-the-things-that-his-family-stood-for. Some of those things were bad, whilst others were good. But you had no idea that this Sirius Black existed.

The Sirius Black that was an amazing listener, who held doors open and pulled chairs out for you, who made you feel as though every word coming out of your mouth was the most fascinating thing he ever heard, who could make you laugh until your stomach hurt, who seemed to be able to fill any lull in the conversation with ease. 

You hated to admit it, but…you sort of liked this Sirius Black. 

After a nice day of window shopping, actual shopping, butterbeer’s and scenic strolls through the picturesque town, you made your way back to Hogwarts. Sirius bid you farewell by kissing your knuckles (you actually think you might have swooned a little bit) and asked if you’d be so inclined to make this a “regular thing.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You tried to say noncommittally, though you were sure the grin on your face gave away your enthusiasm. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He asked as he walked backwards towards his friends, face turning a little shy.

You couldn’t help but take the piss for it. “We live in the same castle, Black. I’m sure you’ll see me tomorrow.”

“Cheeky minx.” He called back, though his face remained soft as he shot a wink at you before turning towards his friends.

You started to head towards the castle but watched as Remus pat him on the back and James’ cheered at his friend’s reunion. 

Before you got too far away, you overheard a part of their conversation. Remus asked if he had enjoyed himself, James asked if the two of you were going to do it again, but it was what you heard Peter say that made your heart drop to your stomach.

“So? Was the bet worth it, did you have a nice time?”

A bet…had a nice time, because of a bet?

He made a bet…he asked you out…because of a bet.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You knew better.

You felt sick, you felt foolish, you felt betrayed.

He really was a player; he really was a flirt. He made you feel so special today, and it was all just an act? 

How could you be so naïve?

How could you have believed his whole “I’ve been so nervous to ask you out” bit. You’ve seen him at parties – you’ve seen him with other girls.

You were such an idiot. 

Sirius had really enjoyed himself yesterday. He had to continuously wipe his hands on his jeans as they were clammy with nerves all day, but generally he felt he handled himself okay. 

At least, as good as could be considering he’d completely lost the ability to keep his fucking cool around a pretty girl. 

So, maybe he hadn’t been as smooth as he normally was. But he didn’t think he’d been so bad as to have elicited this reaction from you.

You barely spared him a glance as you marched past him in the Great Hall the following morning, shouldering him as you headed to sit with your friends.

You…you had enjoyed yourself yesterday, right? When the two of you parted, you’d actually expressed interest in seeing him again.

So, why were you ignoring him?

He figured perhaps you just hadn’t noticed him or mistaken him for someone else or some other such thing as he took his place at the Gryffindor table, but not before he spared one more glance at you. 

You looked painfully dejected and one of your friends placed a comforting hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. She was also glaring at Sirius.

What had he done? 

He had gotten up to go over and ask you, but if he thought he had been intimidated to talk to you before – his intimidation was increased ten-fold at the withering glares your friends all cast at him.

He’d just have to find a chance to chat with you alone.

That chance never came, however, as you seemed to have an entourage escorting you to all of your classes that Monday.

But by the following evening, he couldn’t take it anymore – wouldn’t take it anymore. He’d had a nice time, dammit! And he wanted to enjoy time with you again!

“Are you lost, Black?” One of your friends goaded him as he approached your table in the library. He sucked in a steadying breath as he focused his sights on you. You, who sat unbelievably tense but still never lifted your head from your quill and notebook.

“Y/N? Could we talk for a moment?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Another friend answered for you.

As politely as he could – which was becoming increasingly difficult due to his frayed nerves – he addressed your friend. “With all due respect, Bones, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“No, you were talking to Y/N, right? Why? Did your friends make another bet with you?” She sneered.

Sirius felt his heart fall out of his arse.

He scoffed in disbelief. “You…you mean Pete’s bet?”

You laughed humourlessly and threw your quill down in front of you. “Why? Was there more than one bet, Black?” You spat, finally turning to face him. He was horrified to see your eyes were red and glassy – you were close to crying. 

“No! No, Circe, I-”

“Oh good,” your friend said sarcastically, “there was only one bet. Guess that’s not so bad then.”

“Y/N, please, you have to listen I-”

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” James said as he moved towards Sirius, apparently only having just arrived in the library. Sirius was sort of horrified to notice that some of the surrounding students had turned in their chairs to witness the ultimate downfall of Sirius Black.

That’s right - fuck being formally and officially disowned by his family – this was the undoing of Sirius Orion Black.

“What’s going on is Y/N found out about your lot’s stupid bet.” Your friend announced. Sirius could feel James’ confused face beside him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face as he watched a single tear roll down your cheek. 

“Pete’s bet?” James asked dumbly.

“Yes! Yes, Pete’s bet!” Sirius shouted. He got down on his knees and kneeled in front of you, willing your eyes to him. You denied him the sight, but he supposed he sort of deserved as such. “Pete’s bet, Y/N, to finally get me to stop being a sodding coward and ask you out.” He offered, albeit much more quietly.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t mean to intrude but I can assure you that’s really all it was.” James offered with a pained grimace from where he stood behind Sirius’ crouched form. “We’d been so tired of him convincing us all to hang out in the sodding library just so he could stare at you and never do anything about it. Took us weeks to get him to even start saying hello to you.”

You looked at James, eyebrows furrowing which seemed to cause more tears to fall.

“That makes no sense. I’m not that scary.” You cried.

“No,” Sirius agreed, “you’re just that pretty. That special. That lovely and kind. You’re not scary but you were really intimidating. I was so afraid of botching the whole thing – looks like I kind of did that anyway, huh?”

You were finally looking at him, and Sirius relished in the sight of your eyes meeting his once again, even if they were filled with hurt and tears. He took your two hands in his and ran his thumbs along the backs of your knuckles.

“I begged you for one chance, Y/N. I have no problem begging you for a hundred more. I swear to you, one of these times I’ll get it right.” He promised.

You stared at him for a moment longer before laughing wetly. “Gods, I’m sorry for being so cold. I…I really thought-”

But he cut you off by shaking his head. “I think you were justified. I would have been hurt if I’d overheard that I’d only been asked out on account of a bet. But I promise, it was not malicious.” 

You nodded in understanding and pulled on of your hands away from Sirius’ to wipe away the tear tracks on your face.

“Gods I feel so silly.”

“Let me make it up to you.” Sirius barked quickly. “Right now, come with me. Please?”

You looked at him confusedly for a moment before nodding your head and looking back to your friends. One of them still seemed slightly miffed, so conceded to letting him steal you away from them though she didn’t let you part without shooting him a few more withering glares. 

No matter, Sirius would have time to win over your friends.

Right now, he was more worried about winning you over. And hopefully keeping you this time. 

To start, he’d spend the rest of the night snuggled up to you under stolen blankets from the Gryffindor common room while the two of you watched the stars from the Astronomy tower.

Well, you watched the stars; he spent the evening watching admiring you.

He’d make sure you never felt like the butt of some joke ever again – not if he could help it.

[zlebooks]

𓂃 alhaitham + congrats being the first/last person to know!

you finally confess to kaveh that you have feelings for his flatmate, only you forget to tell him one key information.

when you realized you like al haitham, the experience was ironically similar to waking up on any day.

there were no fireworks that erupted, no scoffs of unbelief from yourself, no “kiss me” by sixpence none the richer playing in the background. there was only kaveh— al haitham’s flatmate ridiculing you in the background.

it was a saturday morning and you chose to spend it on a little quaint coffee shop in downtown brooklyn with your best friend, kaveh. he was your common link to the brooding man, the one who had introduced the both of you to each other.

and as kaveh rambled on and on about his co-worker that has been driving him nuts, you suddenly blurt out something you haven’t thought of much.

“i like al haitham,”

you see your best friend drop everything he was doing— literally. his knife clangs on the porcelain plate as he stops his rant midway.

really, it was more of his moment than yours.

“congrats dearest, you were the last one to know!” he chirps happily, before picking up the bread knife he dropped a moment ago and resumes spreading butter to his bread.

your jaw drops dramatically as if your best friend had just insulted your entire family clan.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“exactly what it means.” the blond deadpans as if anything he uttered under the twenty minutes you’re together has been helpful with your situation.

“fuck you.”

“i thought you liked al haitham?”

“fuck you, fuck you.”

“sorry, i’m unavailable.”

“do i really look like i have a crush on him?” you say under your breath, looking around like you were relaying top secret information.

“even the most socially inept would notice.”

the café doors open as signalled by the bell ringing. you would have pay no attention to it if it were any other of the regulars that kept this place running, but as you catch a glimpse of an ashy grey hair, you immediately duck your head under the table in hopes of making yourself unnoticeable.

“what the fuck are you doing—“

“hello.”

kaveh finds himself interrupted by the very man he finds insufferable and with how his luck is, the same guy whom his best friend is currently crushing on.

the man standing eyes your form— at least what’s visible of it above the table, before raising his eyebrows on the blond. your friend shrugs, opting to stay out of this because even he didn’t have any explanation for how you’re behaving.

“what are you doing?” you hear the scholar’s voice from above.

the blond snorts, “finding their leftover dignity, probably.”

in an attempt to retort something— anything, you raise your head up quickly to look at kaveh’s eyes and cuss him out, but you should have known better than to carelessly throw your head in any direction as you feel your head slam against the table.

ouch.

al haitham hears you whimper although it sounded more of a strangled attempt at breathing as you immediately cut it short. out of concern, he kneels down beside you and oh god— he’s caressing the top of your head in an attempt to sooth it. he asks you a simple question, a really simple one that can be answered with a simple yes or no, and yet your heart quivers.

“are you okay?”

you finally look up from the floor and see that al haitham is still charming.

and kaveh, kaveh was still a dick.

“you know, with how hard headed they are, it would be more appropriate to ask how the table is faring instead.”

you feel the turquoise eyed man glare at your best friend.

suddenly, you feel a sudden shift in your weight. looking around, you notice how al haitham is leading you to get on your feet only he was doing all the heavy work— he’s literally bringing you up.

“what were you doing down there?”

the still concerned scholar asks, to which you wince at as you take your seat once more. you try to rack up your mind for a totally false reason, but the task proves itself to be difficult when a small bump is starting to form on your head. you feel like your encounter with the table has made your brain shake inside your skull and ended up in a very wrong position.

thankfully, your best friend answers the question himself.

“y/n, my dearest friend over here, has realized that they like you. and although that sounds like an incredible disaster, i’m still glad to say that the pining is over.”

or not.

for someone having a small mouth, kaveh pretty sure talks a lot. but then again, with kaveh, he had absolutely no filter for his lips, always airing out private business to anyone and everyone.

kaveh, strangely enough, receives a look of nonchalance from the taller man. this wasn’t the reaction he was trying to get— he was expecting for his roommate to suddenly malfunction. like completely speechless, or stammering at least, red as a tomato and stiff as a plywood kind of malfunction. instead, he receives the usual unamused look from the other that he usually dons.

“of course y/n would; it’d be troublesome otherwise. we are seeing each other romantically, of course.”

your newly revealed boyfriend responds curtly, keeping his reply clear and concise. it was kaveh who eventually malfunctioned.

“you two are what?!”

“dating, yes.”

“how— when— why—“

“i confessed, they felt the same way so i asked them out. it happened before winter break, and why not? we like each other.” the taller man responds for you.

“no! i mean, what was your deal earlier?” the blond explains, pointing at you accusingly as if you had eaten the last remaining cupcake on the plate.

“why’d you make it seem like you were only realising now that you like al haitham?!”

you grin shyly, “it was me trying to see if you’d notice… we meant to keep it under the wraps for a while and you were kind of a test subject?”

kaveh feels his jaw detach. yeah sure you were a stem student and all, but weren’t you taking your research too far?

“i hate the both of you.”

your boyfriend shrugs while you laugh sheepishly.

“if it makes you feel better, you’re the first one to know… congrats?”

“it doesn’t at all! forget it!”

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

[fxrmuladaydreams]

angel on his shoulder: meet cute? (op81)

mean!oscar x sweet!reader

summary: you shouldn’t even try to form a friendship with the austrailian driver, but you can’t help but want to

notes: so he’s not really mean, more standoffish and off-putting. but i hope you guys like the first part of this story 🥰

wc: 834

Unpleasant. That was the word used to describe Oscar most often in the paddock. He wasn’t necessarily terrible, as long as you didn’t bother him. He was known to give stern glares, and eye rolls with a sigh all too often.

He was entirely different from his teammate Lando. Lando who won over crowds with his charm and cheeky smile. Oscar never entertained crowds like Lando did. Sure, he did the press conferences, but only because they were mandatory. He was there to do one job, drive.

He was damn good at it too. Having won a sprint race in his rookie year, and his maiden win in his second, he was proud of his skills. He was happy to simply keep to himself, play nice for the cameras when he needed to, and drive.

That all changed the day you came into the MTC, trailing behind Lando. His steps were quick as he rambled on about something, talking animatedly with his hands. You followed behind him, holding what looked like a few folders and notebooks in your arms, occasionally nodding along to whatever Lando was saying.

You wore a papaya colored McLaren polo, the same he was. You must be a new employee. He kept an eye on you throughout the day, watching the way you followed Lando everywhere, practically attached to him at the hip.

He was gathering his things to leave at the end of the day when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see you standing there, a shy smile on your face.

“Hi, I’m Y/n.” You stick your hand out to him, offering him a handshake. “I’m Lando’s new assistant, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

Oscar nods, shaking your hand. “Oscar.” He says.

You nod. “Yeah, you’re Lando’s teammate.” You wait for a reply, but don’t receive one. “I’ve seen a few of the races. You’re both very talented.”

“Thanks.”

You feel embarrassment creep up inside you at his apparent disinterest. “Uh, I should go, find Lando… It was nice meeting you, Oscar.” You don’t give him the chance to reply before turning away and leaving.

Oscar lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. Most people tended to leave him alone, and he preferred it that way. But you looked so soft and sweet, standing there, even complimenting his driving. It was all too tempting for Oscar. You were too tempting.

You leave Oscar standing there to walk back over to Lando, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.

“I told you he wasn’t friendly.”

You shake your head. “Just because he keeps to himself doesn’t mean he’s not friendly.” You look back over at him as he finishes gathering his things. “I’ll be his friend in no time.” You stuck your nose up at Lando.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

Oscar tried to keep his distance from you, genuinely, but he couldn’t help but feel a pull towards you.

He spent his days stealing glances at you during meetings, and watching you as you shuffled through paperwork for Lando.

You started small, slowly seeping into his routine. You would offer him a coffee in the morning, claiming they accidentally made two, and that the last thing Lando needed was caffeine. Then there was the day that you baked cookies for the team. You put them all in a bowl and left them on a counter in the breakroom for anyone to grab. You knew Oscar wouldn’t take any, so you bagged him a few, and left them with his things.

He remembers the day you really planted yourself in his life. You stood next to the table he was sitting at, a bag of takeout in your hands.

“Could I sit with you, Oscar?” You ask.

Oscar looks up at you, then glances around the room. All the other tables are filled with people, chatting or working, but it seemed the only one available was the one he sat at. He tries not to feel too insecure that his table was the only one no one else wanted to sit at.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods.

You smile as you sit down in the seat next to him, rather than the one across from him.

He quietly watches as you unpack your food, making yourself comfortable.

“How was the sim today?” You ask.

Oscar shifts in his seat. “Good.” He nods.

“Lando says that he’s confident going into next weekend.”

“Lando’s confident going into every weekend.” The corners of his lips turn up, just slightly, enough to hint at a smirk.

“Is that a smile? From Oscar Piastri?” You ask, your own smile on your face.

Oscar flushes a bit at your words, attempting to stutter out a reply.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” You give him a wink.

Oscar feels a shift with you then and there, a longing to keep you close like this, and he knows he is well and truly fucked.

[stariikis]

ni-ki as your study date •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

synopsis ; the price you paid for choosing an athletic boyfriend over an academic one? no practical help when you're drowning in mysterious equations and symbols. but at least he's good at comforting the perfectionist in you.

pairing ; athletic!nishimura riki x academic achiever!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 802 warnings n notes ; dear readers, these two are mentally suffering because one doesn't care and the other cares too much! trigger warning, bio phys chem and math mentioned..

“-And during PE we played badminton, and Jake hyung was soooo bad today. He kept trying to smash but missed the shuttlecock.” Beside you, with his “I-swear-I’ll-finish-three-chapters-today” Physics textbook hardly opened to the first page, Riki doesn’t stop rambling about the various sports he’s played today. You’ve heard enough about the goals he scored during an impromptu morning game of football. The way his best friend fumbled during a badminton match. How his legs ache from standing in the sun for hours during baseball training. You’re about to tug him out the cafe by his jersey. 

“Are you going to start your notes or what?” You shove him with a lighthearted tone, barely concealing the exasperation behind your words. “All that talk about wanting to finally get an A but you still keep yapping. About sports, no less.” 

Riki rolls his eyes and mock-salutes in your direction. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Taking a sip of your matcha latte, you sigh resolutely and return to examine various electronic configurations. Perhaps now, Riki will leave you in peace… 

Only five minutes later, you’re snapped out of focus with a sheepish nudge. 

“What’s a moment…” “OH my days Nishimura Riki how can you not know what a moment is that’s like basic physics you’re supposed to have known that since we started chapter TWO.” 

Shrinking under your scoldings, he glances back at his textbook, reads the definition and looks back towards you. “I don’t get it.” 

With another heavy sigh, you scoot closer and attempt to explain as simply as you possibly can. However, he’s deliberately distracting you, with playful caresses through your hair and touches of kisses as smooth as silk on your cheek. You’ve got to be turning a beetroot red, but you ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and continue on. 

“Now repeat what I just said to you.” Refusing to give in to his silly antics, you cross your arms and lean back. Swiping the hair his fingers touched, not too long ago, out the way. 

He pouts, knowing him acting cute is your soft spot. “That’s not fair.” 

“Why?” You press, but relent and hunch back over your notes. “You know what, just focus on relearning your balanced forces. Do you remember what the principles of moments even is?” Oh wait, he doesn’t even know what a moment is. The way he blinks once at his textbook and blinks twice your way proves this. 

“At this point, I’m not dead, you’re more cooked than I am. And I am cooked.” 

Gasping scandalously, he whisper shouts, “You’re literally my academic goal, what are you on? I wish I had the motivation you did. Okay, more like I wish I had your grades, but we both know that’s not happening.” 

He gestures to all the bruises he’s obtained over the past week, scratches and wounds that demonstrate how dedicated he is to all the sports he partakes in. They’re his own personal souveniers. Although most fade quickly, some leave scars burning in his skin, but he’s proud of them all even when you express your concern for him. 

He’s always been like that. Dismissive of concerning matters because he enjoys showing people how strong he is. Internally and externally. The complete opposite of him, one Maths question you get wrong and you start questioning the very bane of your existence. 

You fall into silence, looking back at your notes. You have lost track of where Chemistry starts and ends, your paper copy of the periodic table crumpled and defaced from your bursts of frustration. You may not show it, but there’s so much going on in your head it’s hard to escape the fog you’ve mentally put yourself in. With the crazy STEM course you’ve chosen, you know that you’re definitely on the train tracks with a sign pointing towards a crash site. 

Either you shut yourself out and pass with flying colours, or you enjoy life and fail miserably. There’s no in between. Is it so hard to want to maintain a social life and a healthy relationship, while topping your class and achieving high honours? Perhaps it is. 

Noticing your sudden stillness, Riki panics. “You’re stressing out again. Why are you stressing out again? You’re doing well. Well, compared to me. Should I just do bio? Things with numbers are always complicated..” 

You laugh as he looks back at his noteless textbook. 

“Anyway, I think you’re doing just fine.” Riki murmurs, massaging your back with his hand. “Don’t overwork yourself and you’ll be fine. Just like you were, and always will be. Do you want me to test you?” 

“That’d be nice…” You smile, watching his eyes light up a little too eagerly when he closes his textbook. “But you’re just saying that so you don’t have to study anymore, right?”

how life be feeling rn, send prayers

[sesshous]

how many geniuses does it take to realise his feelings aren’t just platonic? just one, but he needs to have some sense bonked into him certain architect [alhaitham x reader]

summary: alhaitham is oblivious to his feelings, kaveh smacks some sense into him

genre: fluff (no prns)

a/n: i love really intelligent men who are really dumb at feelings

dates between alhaitham and you were common.

… dates?

no, that’s what kaveh called alhaitham’s outings with you

and having to argue with tell kaveh time and time again that, no, the time you and him spend together is not ‘romantic’. it’s not a big deal and alhaitham doesn’t know why kaveh is making it one.

“why can’t you just admit that you have feelings for-”

“spending time with someone does not indicate romantic feelings.” 

“then how come you don’t go out of your way to spend time with anyone else? how about all the times tighnari, cyno and i have invited you out with us, but you never seem to want to join- and you know what? more than half the times we have to drag you out with us! would it kill you to at least try and become more sociable? all i’m saying is that…” kaveh rambling at this point, and truthfully all alhaitham wants is this conversation to be concluded.

“i simply don’t feel like going.”

“oh, but you’ll join a certain someone instead…”

alhaitham could argue that he technically does spend time with people. at work that is. having to go to meetings and having to receive paperwork from scholars and akademiya students counts as social interaction, but kaveh states that no, he’s not spending his free time with them, so that doesn’t count.

kaveh could argue that, well, who else does he always gets dinner with on the weekends? who else does he get presents for? who else does he willing go out of his way to help with no gain on his behalf?

alhaitham thinks it’s silly. getting dinner with you has become a part of his routine at this point (but he does like to hear about what you have gotten up to during the week.) 

and that jewellery set you took a liking too was a bit out of your price range (he thought the colour would look lovely on you). 

or using his own library card to borrow a book from the akademiya’s library that you wanted to read wasn’t an issue to him (now that he thinks about it, he should write you an authorisation pass to be able to use the library...)

“so you both think the time you spend together isn’t romantic?”

kaveh think’s this is the most surprised he has ever seen alhaitham been - eyes wide open and with no response to try and rebuttal against kaveh’s point, he can’t help but give alhaitham a knowing smirk as a ‘gotcha’ moment.

… did you view the time you and him spent together as romantic? alhaitham has never thought about that. and if you do, why haven’t you confessed yet? you’ve known each other for a long time, are you just too nervous? too shy? too scared of being rejected? you didn’t seem nervous around him, and you definitely weren't shy and if you confessed, alhaitham thinks he wouldn’t reject you-

oh.

oh.

alhaitham knows he’s smart, but for him to come to that realisation so late, he can’t help but be a little embarrassed.

and when he thinks about it, logically his feelings for you does make sense. 

who else leaves him random snacks with little motivational sticky notes in his office? (he really doesn’t do much hard work throughout the day, but he appreciates the gesture.) 

who else always brings him back little trinkets from their commissions? (he had to clear out a drawer in his room to make space. and yes, he has even kept all the ‘cool’ rocks you’ve given him.)

who else is get’s visibly happy when he comes into view? (even when just passing by, you never fail to give him a cheery smile with an overly-enthusiastic wave.)

it’s you.

it’s always you.

and while he dreads to admit it, kaveh is right for once.

he does like you. a bit more than he thought he did.

[miyahchan]

Week One - October 4th - Werewolf!Choso x Reader

Synopsis: Choso has always been possessive of you, but the full moon brings out a different side of him.

Word Count: 2k

🚨 Warnings: 18+ content, public sex, creampie, rough sex, penetration, all the good stuff.

A/N: It was super hard for me to incorporate werewolf stuff into this post but I did my very best. I’m not used to writing anything about werewolves so some details may be a bit vague or cliche. 🚨

Check out the official Kinktober 2024 post HERE!

Choso couldn’t lie – he felt bad. Really bad.

            He’d known the night wouldn’t go well. The full moon hung over the city like an ornament and bathed the streets in its subtle glow, and the streets were full of strangers focused on getting where they needed to go. He looked ahead of him, watching as you kept an unwelcome distance between the two of you.

            It all started when you suggested a late-night walk downtown. Choso hadn’t been worried about the full moon – unlike his brothers, he had always been able to control his primal instincts. He was the oldest, resulting in him having more experience. It should’ve been easy.

            You had your hand in his, guiding him through the bustling streets as you pointed at random things and talked his ear off about them. A lot of the shops had already started decorating for Halloween and he watched as your eyes widened in awe at every decoration you spotted. It was truly adorable, and he nodded along as you rambled on and on, your happiness being enough to make the night special. It was the most human he’d felt in a while.

            Well, until he came along.

            You felt a tap on your shoulder, causing both you and Choso to stop and turn around. Behind the two of you stood a guy, about your age, and Choso felt his stomach tie itself into a knot when the two of you smiled at each other and sparked up a conversation. The guy didn’t bother to even introduce himself to Choso, instead focusing on you and asking you all kinds of questions, trying to pry into your life. Your boyfriend just stood there, jealousy taking over. 

            He was a friend from college, you had said. Choso knew you’d gained a lot from your college experience; you talked about it all the time and your fondness of those memories made him care about it too, although he’d never had to worry about such a thing. He’d lived a long life with only himself and his pack, so he never had the same experiences as a human like you. It was foreign to him, but he knew he didn’t like it when you were so focused on another man.

            He attempted to swallow down the feeling that was bubbling in his chest. It was raw anger, mixed with something else. That something else was a feeling he’d trained himself to ignore in situations like this. Adrenaline pumped through his veins at 100 miles per hour, and he felt his muscles flex underneath his skin involuntarily. His eyes glanced up at the moon hanging in the sky. Poor mistake.

            The last straw was you laughing at one of the guy’s jokes. The laughter that Choso usually loved to hear became a cue for him to step in. 

            His hands made contact with the guy’s chest in an instant and the guy went flying back due to Choso’s inhuman strength. His body smacked a parked car, making its alarm go off. Choso knew it was a stupid decision, and it was unlike his usual reserved self, but at the same time, it felt amazing. His euphoria was only stunted when he felt you tugging on his arm.

            “Choso, let’s go!” He heard you repeat, and only then did he come down from his high. In that moment, he realized what he’d done. Luckily, the guy was still alive, his chest still rising even though he’d passed out from the physical blow to his body. However, everyone’s eyes were on the two of you. 

            Choso followed your command, the two of you rushing through the crowd. Fuck, what did he do?

            The two of you ran until the coast seemed clear and the sounds of the city started to die down. After you were sure that no one was trailing the two of you, you let go of Choso’s hand and picked up your pace, planning to leave him behind.

            He could smell the rage radiating from you. “Honey?”

            “Don’t “honey” me.” You snapped.

            He could’ve collapsed and cried in that moment. You had never talked to him like that before. Despite his quiet exterior, he tended to get rather emotional when it came to you. It was the closest thing to human he felt when he thought about his feelings toward you. He loved his pack as well – he’d go to the ends of the Earth for them – but you and him were a different type of love that he’d never experienced before.

            “I’m so sorry. I just thought...” He started to ramble before you stopped him.

            “You thought it was a good idea to throw someone into a car for making a joke?!”

            You know, when you put it like that, Choso couldn’t help but to feel juvenile for doing such a stupid thing.

            He picked up his pace to catch up to you, only for you to throw him the harshest look he’d ever seen in his life. He was in deep shit tonight.

            The sound of police sirens echoing through the air made both of you stop in your tracks.

            A look of panic spread across your face. “Oh shit.” You grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward a back alley. “This way.” 

            Choso had no reason to fear the police, but he would indulge in your fear if it meant you’d keep touching him. His face reddened as he focused on your touch. The two of you ducked through alleys, unsure of where the police were coming from but not wanting to find out. You both only slowed down when the sirens seemed far enough away to at least catch your breath.

            You were doubled over, taking sharp breaths as Choso admired your figure from behind. Then, he snapped out of it. How could he be checking you out when he’s supposed to be begging for your forgiveness?

            “This is all your fault, you know?” You wheezed. Your tone was less angry now, even if only because you could hardly breath. 

            “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. How about a candlelit dinner? Or maybe a picnic? A walk on the beach?” Choso listed every date idea he could think of until he felt you place a hand on his shoulder.

            “Do you really get that jealous over me?” 

            He hated how the word “jealous” sounded. “I’m just… protective, over you.” Yeah, that sounded better. “I don’t want anyone taking you from me, that’s all.” He muttered almost pitifully.

            Unexpectedly, you cracked a small smile and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “No one could ever take me from you, Choso.”

            He grabs your face and kisses you again, a soft whimper escaping him. You kiss him back harder and it becomes a game of tug of war for dominance. Your tongues dance in each other’s mouths and you end up with your back against the brick wall, finally accepting defeat. His weight is pressed against you as he starts moving to your neck, where he lightly bites you. He growls as he gets lost in the salty taste of your skin and your smell. 

            “Mark me.” You moan. “I’m yours.”

            That was all he needed to let his primal instincts take over.

            You were wearing a sundress, one of Choso’s favorite outfits on you. It was pretty, but that wasn’t the only reason he liked it. His large hands felt your curves through the thin fabric. A sundress also made for easy access.

            He pulls down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts to the cool autumn air. He latches onto one, sucking on your nipple harshly. You let out a cry, running your hands through his hair and messing up his spiky ponytails. Your moans filled the alleyway. You didn’t care about being caught, not when Choso was licking and nibbling your breasts just the way you liked it. As he licks on your nipples, you feel his hand lift the bottom of your skirt and go under, starting to massage your pussy through your panties.

            You gasp at the feeling, grinding against his hand. He doesn’t tease you for long, sliding his hand under the hem of your panties and rubbing his fingers between your folds. You gaze down at your boyfriend lustfully, who is still focused on your breasts. His expression is dead serious, purely focused on your pleasure. It was intense. You’d never seen him so intentional. He rubs on your clit, getting a soft moan out of you. This only spurs him on as he rubs circles on your sensitive bud. He knew exactly how you liked it. He glances up at you, his usual dark eyes having a hint of yellow peeking through now. He soaked in your expressions, watching every reaction you had to the slightest touch. 

            Your body tenses under his touch as you cum on his fingers, and you twitch as you’re overcome with a harsh wave of pleasure.

            “You’re mine.” Choso mumbles against your chest before letting go of your nipple with a wet pop. He puts his face close to yours, looking straight into your eyes. “Say it.”

            “I’m yours!” You don’t hesitate. This spurs him on to put more pressure on your clit.

            “Say it again.”

            “I’m yours Choso!” Before you know it, another orgasm hits you and you cum on his fingers again. You’re wriggling against his body, nearly screaming as Choso keeps fondling your pussy. You ride your second wave of ecstasy, leaving his fingers dripping wet.

            At that, Choso is satisfied, and he pulls his hand away. He turns you around so your front is pressed against the brick wall, and you hear the sound of fabric rustling behind you. Before you can brace yourself, Choso is already sliding his dick inside you, way too easily since you’re already so wet for him. He lets out a low groan as he feels you clenching around him. He tried not to lose control – he really did – but you just felt too good.

            He pounds into you roughly, giving you barely any time to adjust as you brace yourself against the brick. The sound of skin slapping against skin was music to his ears as he got lost in the feeling on you. He grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back. You were going to take all of him.

            You were breathless as he fucked you, your human body being no use against his animalistic strength. His tip smacked your cervix, creating a beautiful mix of pleasure and pain. You were coating his dick in your slickness, the wet, obscene sound punctuating just how crude this act was.

            All that Choso could think about was filling you up with his seed. He’d always loved the idea of growing his pack, particularly with you as his mate. He keeps your arms in his grasp as he bounces you back and forth on his length. His senses were heightened due to the full moon, your moans sounding even louder and your pussy smelling sweeter than ever to him. In the back of his mind, he worried about hurting you, but you didn’t seem to mind.

            Your third orgasm hits you like the brick wall you were pressed against when Choso pumps into you harder. Your legs shake beneath you, the only thing keeping you standing being Choso holding you up. You hear a rumble in his chest as he relishes in the feeling of you clasping around him, pulling him in even deeper. 

            “Mmm,” He moans. “Whose pussy is it?”

            “Yours!” You can’t explain the pleasure you feel as he goes even faster, despite you being overstimulated from already cumming three times.

            “That’s right. It’s mine.” Choso cums inside of your pussy with a shudder, his cum leaking out and dripping onto the concrete. He pulls out slowly, watching a string of both your juices combined connect the two of you. He rubs his tip between your folds, smearing his cum all over your pussy.

            When he notices how weak you are, he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up. “So, do you forgive me?” He’s back to his normal senses now, remembering the events of the night.

            “Yes, I forgive you.” You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but to blush as you remember where the two of are. “Now, can you help me get dressed please?”

[otakubimbo]

Mansplain

Miguel isn't good at flirting, but that should be obvious shouldn't it?

 Miguel’s first attempt at flirting with you was actually the first time the two of you met. He had arrived in your dimension because there was an anomaly there, but by the time he had appeared, you had just finished capturing the sandman anomaly. He was impressed, to say the least by your skills. The way you webbed through the air, you were graceful yet powerful. It was as if nothing could stop you, the calculation of your attacks the sandman didn’t stand a chance. He barely even registered your speed as you came down in front of him.

“And you are?” You ask viewing him with reasonable wariness, you could tell that he was at least somewhat like you.

“I am the head of the arachno humanoid poly multiverse” He states matter of factly as if you should have already known that. The sentence almost makes you giggle.

“So, you mean the spider people multiverse” You take your mask off, shaking your coils out now realizing that he’s probably not a foe and really is just like you. “That’s cute”

At that Miguel almost becomes a stuttering fool if he could even speak, you were beyond beautiful. Your smile gave a brightness that could rival the sun.

“Well, that could be said in layman's terms but I’m more technical.” He finally gets out after feeling like he wasn’t able to breathe, de-digitizing his mask so you can see his face. You giggle at that; he was very handsome but he seemed a bit awkward. Miguel knows that he may never want to hear anything else besides that for the rest of his life.

“Yeah, I see that so what are you doing here, in my universe?” you question, putting a hand on your hip. You had already assumed it was for whatever you just took down, he kept calling for people that you had no clue about.

“Well, if you must know,” He begins “This is a sandman anomaly which seems to not be a cannon event in your universe. And it is our job as the arachnoid humanoid poly-multiverse group that take care of these types of situations. This is why I am here to take this one back, so the multiverse does not collide. It is essential to keep the universe safe” he goes on and on about the society he created.

His appearance didn’t give the type of man to ramble on like this, but. The idea was actually something that you wanted to get behind and when you questioned if you could join, Miguel thought his heart would stop. He assumed he was wooing you with his words but truthfully, you just had a big heart, and it broke yours to think about the loss of other universes.

And that is how you ended up in the spider society, working extremely close to Miguel because once he found out that not only were you a skilled spider fighting wise, but you were also absolutely brilliant. You had such a mind for science that rivaled his own and your enthusiasm had him captivated when you talked about the research you were doing on society’s behalf.

Everything about working for the spider society brought you joy. Expect, for one thing, Miguel. At first, you thought working with him was going to be amazing. He was smart and driven, you could tell his passion from the moment you met him. But now every encounter with him is insufferable. Any given moment that the two of you are working on something he always makes a note to mansplain everything, as if he didn’t himself ask for your assistance. Initially, you thought it was just adjusting to working alongside someone else; everyone in the society was surprised that he even asked for your assistance. As time went on though, it was as if he doubted your intelligence which pissed you off and confused you since he would constantly ask for your opinion or assign you tasks that he would usually take on himself. Every task he assigned you was completed expertly, and every repair he asked you to manage, was done efficiently. And yet, when it came down to you working on things he would make his way over without fail to over-explain everything to you. You didn’t know how much longer you were going to be able to take it.

Now here you were eating lunch with Jess, rubbing your temples from the headache that Miguel gave you earlier from explaining how the multiverse works AGAIN.

“I truly don’t know what his deal is, Jess” you groan putting your head down on the table hoping the cold metal will relieve some of the tension from your head. “Why ask for my help if he is going to micromanage me the whole time?! And according to everyone, he doesn’t even ask people for help so why ask me?!? Next time I am just going to tell him to do it himself.”

Jess just giggles at your frustrations, causing you to groan. She was finding humor in your suffering. The two of you had grown close to each other since you first entered the society, Jess seemed to be one of the few people Miguel put his trust and faith in which wasn’t surprising at first until you saw how he interacted with everyone else. He held her to such a high regard, and you felt lucky to work with her. Now the two of you were friends since she was always the first one you went to complain about Miguel and your friendship blossomed from there.

The two of you enjoy the rest of your lunch together, leaving the frustrating topic of Miguel behind. It helped you calm down a bit, he really had been working your last nerves with all his commentary on your assignments. But you were going to stick to your word, the next time he had something to say you would just tell him to do it himself. And now you are working diligently on fixing some of the watches that other spiders have damaged. They were easy fixes that most spiders could have done on their own, but Miguel has designated you to be the one who fixes them. He claims it is to ensure that it was done right, but who knows? Everything was going well, up until your last one when your Spidey senses told you that someone was standing in the doorway of your lab and all your other senses screamed that it was Miguel. As you resist the urge to audibly groan at his presence, you continue with your work as if he wasn’t even there. You wish you had worn your headphones instead of just playing music from your speaker so you could really ignore him but you weren’t that fortunate. Your spine tingles as you feel him approach you, attempting to think positively that maybe he won’t over-explain how to fix what you’re working on as if he again wasn’t the one who made you the go-to for all gizmo repairs.

“Hey, you know…..” He starts and it’s as if you see red, he begins to explain how to fix the damn gizmo that you were literally already fixing. In frustration, you slam your tools on the desk standing up quickly, surprisingly this takes Miguel back almost making him stumble.

“What the hell is the point of assigning me shit to do if you’re always going to come in and explain to me how to do it like I already don’t fucking know how to do it.” You almost yell, gritting your teeth, and your face scrunches up in frustration.

“What” he asked, a stupid stunned expression on his face as if he hadn’t done anything wrong and couldn’t even imagine why you were upset.

“Literally every single time you assign me anything or I do anything here you are to explain to me how to do it. What is the point of assigning me shit Miguel if you’re just going to come and tell me how to do shit every single fucking time? Just do it yourself then, stop asking me! It’s like you don’t even trust me!”  At this point you were yelling, talking with your hands, and most likely making a scene that any spider with sense would stay away from. You were absolutely heated, and Miguel just looked at you wide-eyed and confused. “Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?!?!”

“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about. I trust you more than anyone, that’s why I ask you to do all of this.” Miguel speaks softer than you think you’ve ever heard him which quells your anger a bit and now you’re confused.

“Then why do you always come and try to explain everything to me then?!?” Your voice is lower than before but you’re still slightly yelling.

“Well because”

“Because what Miguel”

He looks almost…. Nervous? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him nervous before. Yeah, when you first met him he was a rambling mess but you just assumed that was just the adrenaline speaking, ever since then he’s been this calm, collected, calculated man who despite his instinct to explain things to you, you may have grown fond of him.

“I do trust you to do your job. I wouldn’t give you the task if I didn’t think you would be able to accomplish it without my assistance.” He deflects from your question, which starts to bring back up your irritation.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Miguel. I’m so close to just going back to my universe and being done with this honestly.” Your frustrated threat makes Miguel even more confused about what is going on. He thought you liked being here, he thought he was impressing you with his knowledge.

“I was trying to impress you” He states matter of fact as if it was obvious.

“Impress me?? What???” Your temper is still up, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to because now you’re the one confused.

“I was attempting to show you my knowledge and understanding of things. You know to impress you and show you how intelligent I am” he gives a huff in a really cute pouty way for a man his size, and this confession brings a smile to your face as you start being thrown into a fit of laughter.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about any of this.” His voice is stern, he is obviously upset at your laughter, arms crossed over his chest in frustration. He was cute, he was too cute and now all of it was clicking for you. Miguel O Hara had been trying to flirt with you, in the worst way imaginable. “Has it not been obvious how fond I am of you?”

You catch your breath, as your laughing fit subsides, “No, Miguel you were actually really pissing me off.”  He frowns at the realization that his attempts at flirting have actually been doing the opposite of its intended effect.  “I know you’re smart, you literally developed most of this technology by yourself. There wasn’t anything you had to prove to me.”

“Well I-“Miguel stutters, the great Miguel O Hara stuttered. “Well, then how was I supposed to show you?”

“Show me what”

“That I am fond of you.”

“Fond of me, you mean like you like me?” Your head tilts in the most adorable way that has Miguel flustered, the brown hue of his face getting deeper as a blush crept up his neck.

“Obviously”

“Not obviously actually.” You smile gently at him, thinking about all the times you have been so frustrated with him, and he was just trying to flirt with you.

“Well then how would I show you?” He asks genuinely, more awkward than you have ever seen the confident man.

“You could ask me out on a date, you know like a regular person.”

“Okay, so would you like to go on a date with me?”

You smile at him, and Miguel thinks his heart just stopped, “Yes Miguel I would, just tell me where and when” He does a curt nod, not knowing exactly what to say as his brain racks for ideas on where to take you turning around to leave your lab.

“Oh, and Miguel, by the way,” you stop him before he can “You don’t have to try and impress me, you already do.”

And the way you smiled at him after saying that he had to do everything to hold his composure as the stoic man he has tried to portray himself as but he can’t help the small smile that graces his face at your comment.

……

“You’re really gonna go out with him?” Jess asks the next time the two of you hang out, as you tell her about your last interaction with Miguel.

“Yes, yes, I am. You don’t understand, he was so cute when he was telling me that he was trying to impress me. He even BLUSHED.”

“Such a 180 from wanting his head on a spike” she chuckles.

“I know I know I know I know. But really you don’t understand how cute he was after I basically did put his head on a spike.”

“I could have told you that he liked you”

“And why didn’t you?” You huff, crinkling your nose at the fact she let you sit here frustrated with that man’s behavior for MONTHS.

“Eh, not as fun” she laughs at you, while you roll your eyes at her.

[literaila]

omg i’m not sure if you have a fic on this yet but what about the very first time megumi calls reader mom? does he freak out? does reader try to keep it cool but is actually dying inside? is there angst? what do you think??

it’s well known that megumi does call you mom… just not to your face (and then he freaks out).

but then, even after that, it takes him a while to feel comfortable referring to you with a title that he doesn’t fully understand. megumi doesn’t know what a mom is, what he’s supposed to feel for his so called mother…

unlike tsumiki, of course, who, almost exactly two years into living with you and satoru, was fully on board with the title.

you’d been tucking her in one night, smiling at her nonsensical ramblings about school and some girl she met at the store earlier in the day, when she’d just asked.

“can i call you mom?”

you paused your fluffing of her pillows. “what?”

“it’s okay if you don’t want me to,” tsumiki had answered back, hurriedly, her sweet voice true. “i just wanted to ask.”

and… it took a moment to regain any composure after that.

i mean, sure. you knew—truly—that the little girl and boy you would protect with your life were yours. they might’ve been someone else’s—a lifetime ago, when the world was better and reality was more genuine.

but in your world, they were yours.

(and satoru’s sometimes. but very rarely).

you’d been referring to them in kind for… almost two years. it only took a week of knowing the two of them—tsumiki with her genuine heart and show stopping smiles, and megumi with his brooding and paying far too much attention—for you to think as such. they were your children a month in.

but still, you knew that to them, you weren’t… the ideal. you weren’t a nurturer, not a babysitter or an aunt, not a friend but never anything less.

you were just there.

and really, that’s all you wanted to be for them. you didn’t need a title, didn’t need some overrated birthright. you just wanted to see the two of them at the dinner table, laughing at each other and picking at their food.

you weren’t going to ask for anything more.

but being their mom?

you looked down to tsumiki, unable to keep the ache out of your heart, the twinge out of your eyes. “miki,” you answered softly. “are you sure?”

the two of you had talked at length about moms. yours, who took the time you had together for granted, and tsumiki’s mom, who had their time stolen from her.

and you knew how much a mother meant to tsumiki. megumi had no recollection of their parents, but tsumiki couldn’t manage to forget.

“only if it’s okay with you,” the girl whispered, large, beautiful brown eyes looking into yours.

and, honestly, how are you supposed to say no to that?

“of course,” you’d answered back, a magical grin growing on your face. “you can call me whatever you want.”

“okay,” tsumiki met your grin with one of her own.

and when you closed the door that night, it was to the sound of a soft “goodnight, mom,” and the never ending glowing of your heart—just for your little girl.

when you left her room, wandering aimlessly through the house, falling face first on the couch and laying there until your bones ached, satoru couldn’t get anything out of you.

he’d tried rolling you over, irritating you with some bland remark, pulling on your hair… all to no avail.

but when you finally sat up, after about a half an hour, your grin was still so blinding that satoru was concerned for your health. waving a hand in front of your face just to see if you would still react.

you kept your conversation to yourself, knowing you’d probably only be able to hoard it for the night. but that was enough.

but megumi… he’s never been as easy as tsumiki. never as trusting.

so there isn’t a ground breaking conversation. he doesn’t tell you that he’s grateful for you, or that he feels lucky to have you in his life, or that your family is the best thing the little boy could imagine.

no, he’d never say any of that.

when megumi calls you mom for the first time (to your face) it’s in some boring, nonchalant moment.

you’re sitting on the couch, attempting to braid satoru’s stupid hair, when his little voice comes in from down the hallway, almost whining.

“hey mom?” he calls, head peeking around the corner.

“yeah?”

“did i give you my library book?”

“nope,” you pop, meeting his eyes. “did you lose it?”

megumi looks away, back towards his room. “no…” he says, suspiciously, walking back down the hall.

oh, well. at least if it’s gone satoru will be the one paying for it. really, you need to set a limit on the number of books he checks out at once.

you shake your head but focus back in on the object at hand. why is his hair all different lengths? it doesn’t even make any sense.

but satoru’s got his head tilted back, already smiling at you like he knows something you don’t.

“what?” you ask, frowning. you nudge his head but he doesn’t move. you sigh. “did you hide his book?”

satoru doesn’t answer that—probably because he did—he only blinks at you, eyes alight with something you’ll probably never understand.

“what?” you repeat, bothered.

satoru’s grin grows wider. “nothing.”

“then look forward. im busy.”

he chooses, in that moment, to let you deal with it yourself. so he only tucks back his smile, looking towards the mantle once again.

and when you’ve got his hair back in your hands, parting it on the side, he just says, “you’re really terrible at this, you know?”

you gasp. “is that a grey hair, satoru?” you pull at a strand. “you must be working too hard.”

he pulls away, trying aimlessly to look up at his own head. “where!?” he demands, and you only laugh at him.

it’s not until later that night, when satoru’s hands are in your hair this time, brushing through it, and all of the lights are off that you realize it.

“did megumi call me mom?” you ask, into the dark. your voice is mindless, dazed.

“i was wondering when you’d notice.”

and if there’s a slight prick to your eyes, it’s got nothing to do with that, okay? it’s just a title.

if you shed a tear it’s only because satoru accidentally pulls on a knot in your hair and he’s a bastard. really.

(when megumi does it again the next day you have to lean against the counter and try not to tackle the boy where he stands).

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

“So how did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Y’know, how did you know.”

“Dingus, I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me here, the Russians did a number on how many of my braincells are actually working.”

“How did you know that you liked girls?”

Robin Buckley immediately pushed herself up so she was resting on her elbows, head tilted to catch Steve Harrington’s eyes in the low light of their hospital room.

They weren’t originally even going to go to the hospital, if Robin was being honest. They had just wanted to slip away back to their respective homes, but then Melissa and Richard Buckley caught wind that Robin was hurt. Then the both of them realized that Steve’s parents (if Robin has to use that term to describe them) had less than zero intention of sending anyone to pick up Steve.

Then EMS made the light suggestion of both of them probably needing to go to Hawkins General Hospital… and well, while Melissa and Richard did tend to lead toward more natural remedies… one couldn’t fix a concussion or a drugging with an unknown substance with essential oils and hope.

“Robbie? Did you OD over there?” Steve had himself up on his elbows, easily mimicking Robin. That’s the thing that makes the inside of Robin ache, that he’s so like her. She knows that she’s an only child, knows that, but sometimes Steve’ll just… do something and it makes her question it. Makes her wonder how she spent so long without him, without another brain and two legs and arms and so much hair. “Robbie?”

“No, I am still alive.” Robin slowly spoke, before she let out a soft sigh. “Why do you ask?”

“Like-” Steve huffed as he shook his head from side to side, before he used the one hand that was free from the pulse monitor and saline drip to card through his hair. It’s sleep ruffled, and if he uses product (Robin is sure he does), it’s for sure gone. Steve looks up though, and his eyes are so earnest that it causes something to hurt inside of Robin. “never mind just ignore- fuck - just ignore me.”

“I couldn’t ignore you if I tried, you idiot.” Robin let out a huff, and she winced as the PICC line in her arm shifted as tilted to be able to fully face Steve on her side. “But I just, dingus, this is out of left field for even you.”

“How so?”

“Did you even know that, that people like me even existed until a couple of hours ago?” Robin kept her voice soft, especially as Steve huffed out an indignant sounding sigh. Robin sighs though, and then she cards her own hand through her hair, and forges onward. “I think I’ve just… always known.”

“Always?”

“Yeah like-” Robin shrugged, a careful movement of her shoulders. “When I was like, eight? My uh, parents sent me to this camp thing- like summer camp kind of like what Dustin went to? But with, y’know, with the swimming and archery and dude I was fucking awful at it.” Steve let out a soft and watery laugh at Robin’s rambling, and that gave Robin enough power to continue. “But we uh, had these like songs we had to learn? And there was this uh, girl counselor there that had to teach me because you know, that was her job.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and uh. She couldn’t have been older than I am now but man…” Robin let out a slow whistle, and allowed herself to fully melt into the hospital cot she’s laid up on. “All I could think was that I just wanted to be with her. Like not even kissing because I thought kissing was gross then, still do now kinda but anyway- I wanted to like, hold her hand and shit. Do the cheesy stuff I’d seen in the movies, y’know?”

Steve huffed out his own laugh, and he tilted his head to lean against his pillows instead of facing Robin. Robin watched though, quiet for once, as Steve swallowed once and then twice- before he cleared his throat.

“I knew it existed before you.”

“What?”

“It.”

“Dingus-”

“Girls liking girls.” Steve’s voice is barely above a whisper, even as Robin can hear him gulp in a lungful of air. “And boys liking boys.”

“You did?” Robin kept her voice quiet, gentle, as coaxing as she could- especially when she could see Steve’s throat bob. “Dingus?”

“I…” Steve doesn’t continue, and that’s enough.

Enough to Robin that she pushed herself up, and ignored the pain that ricocheted down her spine like needles. Ignored Steve’s hurried ‘what are-’, as she stumbled out of her hospital bed and right to Steve’s. She made sure to drag her IV pole and the monitor with her, situating it as best as she could next to Steve’s. Robin huffed quietly as the pain trickled down her spine, and she couldn’t help but smile as Steve curled his hand carefully around her wrist and tugged.

Robin got comfortable, let Steve fret over her as best as he could, his fingers only ever-so slightly trembling as he made sure that the line in her arm wasn’t kinked up. They were pressed close, side to side and hip to hip, and Robin tilted her head down until it was rested on Steve’s shoulder.

“Wanna keep going, Stevie?”

“No.”

“But?”

“I…” Steve huffed again, a small indignant noise that Robin mimicked.

They sat like that then, just the two of them for a moment, before Steve continued slowly.

“I’ve never, told anyone this- like I’ve told Tommy H. so much shit about me - but this is… Robin this is different.” Steve speaks in a hurried and stilted way, like he’s stringing together bits and pieces of sentences, and it shouldn’t work.

But it does because he’s Steve and she’s Robin.

And truthfully, Robin likes that. That they’re Steve and Robin. SteveandRobin. RobinandSteve. Likes that the two of them are so in tune that even her own mother didn’t want to separate them.

That had to mean something in the end, didn’t it?

“Tell me, whatever… whenever.” Robin murmured as she turned her head so she could press a soft kiss to Steve’s shoulder. The hospital gown is thin enough she can feel the heat of his skin from up under it, and that’s grounding. Grounding even as Steve drew in a shaky breath, audibly swallowing again. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

“I didn’t uh, notice Tammy in Ms. Click’s class or uh, you for a reason.” Steve slowly spoke, eyes wet, and Robin can hear his sniffle as he tried to reign his emotions back. “Ms. Click made him sit uh, right by her desk at the front of the room.”

And oh.

Oh.

If that doesn’t immediately settle something that just usually writhes around in Robin’s chest.

“Him?” Robin is gentle, gentler than she thinks she’s ever been.

“Uh, yeah… Eddie Munson?” Steve huffed out an almost dry laugh, the only thing that he does that ever remotely reminds her of his time as his high school “King Steve” persona. “He uh, got this bat tattoo right before that year’s Thanksgiving break and all I could do was just… gawk at him.”

“And then what?” Robin knew she was pushing, searching for information, but she can’t help it. Not when Steve is right next to her, hip to hip and thigh to thigh. Not when he’s like her. In all the ways that matter.

“I went home and screamed into my pillow.”

Robin immediately smacked Steve’s thigh with the knuckles of her left hand- grinning in triumph when Steve let out a squawk of laughter.

“Eddie Munson?”

“What about him?”

“He’s… he’s a total dud!”

“No he’s not!”

“He stepped in my mashed potatoes once! That is totally total dud material!”

“No way!”

“He wants to be like, like a metal singer!”

“He has a band! Dreams!”

“Do you even know if he can hold a tune?”

“Well, no-”

“Total. Dud.”

Robin grinned wide as Steve launched into a very quick defense about Eddie, and she decides then and there that Steve and her? They’ll be just fine.

Especially if she can get Eddie to come into Steve and her’s orbit just a bit, to see if the crush is still there.

Because while Robin may not have all of the gay knowledge in the world, there is one thing for a complete certainty that she knows.

The black hanky that Eddie kept in his pocket?

Well…

Robin chuffed to herself, before she tilted so she could lay on her side- nose tucked into the place where Steve’s neck and shoulder met.

Right before she falls asleep though, Robin does a very important thing on a mental whiteboard.

You Rule: 1

You Suck: 0

hope you all enjoyed! truthfully think this is one of my favorite things i have written. love platonic stobin. <3

[idlerin]

love sick — 10. ur like an exorthermic reaction

romance 101; ideal partner #14 — someone who would be down to go to trips or do some fun activities with me!

suna observed the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks. the lights blazing colors in mixtures of red, blue, and purple. each of the hues seemingly highlights your features most excruciatingly. he couldn’t place exactly why it was so unbearable. perhaps it was because it was putting you in a light he’s resisted seeing you in for the past few days.

so far, he was winning.

“they’re next,” you absentmindedly tug on the sleeves of his shirt, gaze still focused on the stage where you waited for semi to show up, “they’re really good!” you hype them up more, a buzz in the tone of your voice.

“do they play originals?” suna asks, an arm slung around your shoulder. the both of you chose to stand close to the walls because it was easier for suna to prop himself to a more comfortable position. there were plenty of people in the crowd which caused the two of you to press closer against each other—he asked in the car ride if you went to these gigs often and you said yes, he wondered how you stayed cooped up in places like these alone considering the prissy princess idea he’s had of you for a long while now—in the process, you casually resumed a couple-like position. it wasn’t like there was anyone here you needed to put up an act with now.

suna didn’t want to dig into that thought deeper.

“ei likes to mix it up sometimes. they don’t always perform here, specifically, of course. i’ve noticed that his band usually starts with a cover song and then an original. he’s a really good songwriter, he’s been writing songs since high school,” you began to ramble, occasionally looking up at suna pointedly as if emphasizing your words. you had to lean in a bit closer in case he couldn’t hear you well with the noise surrounding you both.

“so you’ve been present and supporting him since the very beginning?” suna urges you to continue with his reply, yet his eyes were surveying over the place, trying not to make you the center of his attention.

“well, duh! i’ve known him before i could even form proper sentences,” you shift and cross your arms over your chest. causing your hair to brush against suna’s collar, making him fail in not having you his focus. his thoughts now went to your perfume and how it would linger in his car later on.

“that long, huh. i haven’t been close to anyone for years close to that, the closest would probably be the miya twins,” suna starts to share about himself, to your surprise.

“i find it hard to keep long-lasting friendships,” you confess, putting more of your weight on suna unintentionally, jutting out your lip in a subtle pout, “i’m lucky i have ei and the others.”

suna found himself focusing on your lips, they were tinged with a darker shade you usually wore. it contrasted the appearance you usually put yourself in around campus. it suited you even though it wasn’t anything he was used to, that made it more appealing. it was distracting, to say the least.

why did he even agree to go here?

he had no reason to. he was tired. and yet he chose to be here. he only needed you for one reason and that was to stop getting bothered. it was going fine, if only it could be kept up for more weeks. you guys didn’t have to be friends the whole time. you guys didn’t even have to be amicable as long as you acted like it. but you preferred having a more familiar relationship if you were ‘acting’, was it under method acting? suna thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that his thoughts made that conclusion just to rationalize. this. this problem.

he thought for the whole duration of this agreement he’d only have one problem, turns out he has two.

the first one was figuring out a way to get a particularly persistent one off his back, and the other was you.

because he was attracted to you.

“are you listening?” he snaps out of his slight daze at the sound of your voice. semi’s band has been playing for a minute or two, suna doesn’t know the specifics since he was only guessing, but you were here making sure he was paying attention. here you were, wide-eyed and raising a hand to tap his cheek.

atsumu was right, you were cute.

“yeah,” suna answered absentmindedly.

you squinted your eyes at him, “listen more,” you put a hand up to your lips to ‘shush’ and went back to watching semi.

suna listens for once and he admits semi was good. he hasn’t interacted much with the guy but he seemed nice enough, he was never interested in his musical endeavors though. suna’s life revolved mostly around volleyball, after all.

a few more minutes pass before suna couldn’t take it anymore.

he was being tortured by the sight of you, it was that cursed moment he saw you in the lobby. suna was taken aback by the way you presented yourself in a different style than usual, he didn’t really think it would have this kind of effect on him.

fuck it.

suna leaned down to whisper in your ear, “hey, you said i can kiss you, right?”

it takes a second before you turn to him, your features scrunched in curiosity, not in any way judgemental or doubting anything, your immediate assumption was, “is anyone you know watching?”

“no,” suna says, eyes dropping down as he watches you wet your lips, “but can i?”

you contemplate it, and in the middle of doing so your surroundings suddenly turn into silence. suddenly, there was only you and him. like they were described in books or movies, everything else turned into background noise.

your ears were ringing and you were a little dazed as you carefully stood on your tiptoes, your mind battling whether this was really a good idea.

it shouldn’t matter, it meant nothing in the end.

you were still clutched against suna and before you started regretting anything, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

it was a solid five seconds, and you stepped back with your stomach turning in knots.

suna’s grip on your shoulder tightens, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

the both of you were silent as you continued to listen to semi’s music.

“i hope that made whoever you were trying to trick go away,” you suddenly say, looking up at him with a smile on your face.

suna was left dumbstruck, he clearly told you there wasn’t anyone he was trying to stray away from here… unless you were doing it on purpose, playing another act on purpose. suna observes your features once more, notices that your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes, the blank determined look set in your gaze and deduces that he was spot on.

he splayed a small grin, deciding to play along, “yeah, thanks.”

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

kageyama has the healthiest screen time in the fg.

kiyoko has a whole list in her notes app abt reasons why she (personally) would never get pregnant.

suna is the type who needs time to warm up and joke around in texting.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — i listened to sabik by deny n arthur nery the whole time reading this so i suggest listening to that if you feel like you wanna reread this PLSSS. also END OF ACT 1 YAY! look at how self destructive these two are 💖. also will prolly close the taglist before i start posting act 2 wlxnsnx. omg my head is throbbing.

taglist is CLOSED ! + (1/3) @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @alienvarmint @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @yaboiithewreck @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @haruskatana @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @mwhahahalasagna @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @justabreadslice @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @tenaciouswritersheep