#i was going to skip this prompt until i remembered just how much i loved sunny's grandma-in-law

[pinkslaystation]

Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

[be4chywritez]

Afterglow | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x roommate!reader

you have a big fat crush on your roommate

request: heyyy, can u do oscar or lando or max w 28 and 36?

prompts: “accidentally” locking other out. (they’re roommates.), and "Quit smiling at me, I can't stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that."

beachy’s masterlist🐚

prompt list🐚

If you had told your thirteen-year-old self that your best friend’s really cute brother would one day be your roommate, she would have absolutely lost it.

But life works in mysterious ways. Oscar had always been a point of interest in your life—not just because you were next-door neighbors, but because you’d been close with his sisters. You were a year older than Hattie, and the two of you got along splendidly.

As university discussions became more frequent, you decided to take a leap, applying to the International University of Monaco. To your surprise, you got in. At seventeen, you packed your bags, said goodbye to the only home you’d ever known, and headed for a new life by the Mediterranean.

Leaving meant parting with your friends, your family, the Piastris—your second family—and the boy you’d secretly been in love with since you were thirteen.

Fast forward to 2023. You’re twenty-two, settled into an amazing job, and living comfortably in your lavish Monaco apartment. Your connection to home hasn’t faded—you still have regular calls with your parents and close friends.

During one of your weekly catch-ups, Hattie mentions that Oscar’s made it to Formula 1. You couldn’t be prouder. You remember her talking endlessly about his journey through F3, and you have no doubt that now, with him in F1, she won’t stop anytime soon.

After hanging up, you return to sketching prototypes for work, the details pulling you back in. So much so, you nearly miss the chime of your phone—nearly.

Glancing down, your heart skips a beat. It’s Oscar.

Hey, can I call you for a sec?

You hesitate for just a moment before typing back a quick Sure and setting your sketchbook aside.

Seconds later, your phone rings, and when you answer, the familiar sound of his voice sends a ripple of nervous energy through you. “Hey, long time no talk,” Oscar greets, his tone easygoing as always.

You clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How’s everything going with you?”

“Busy, as usual,” he chuckles softly, and you find yourself fidgeting, your fingers lightly tapping against the sketchbook in your lap. His voice has always done this to you—made it hard to focus, made it hard to breathe, if you were being honest.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You’d known him for years, but now, with him on the line, your thoughts scatter. There’s a beat of silence before you speak again. “Hattie told me you got into Formula 1. That’s amazing, Oscar.”

“Thanks,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s been pretty surreal.”

There’s another pause, a moment where you think the small talk is winding down, and you brace yourself for the inevitable goodbye. But instead, Oscar clears his throat. “Actually… I wanted to ask you something.”

You shift in your seat, nerves buzzing under your skin. “Sure, what’s up?”

“So, I’m moving to Monaco soon,” he starts, and the mention of Monaco—your Monaco—makes your heart skip again. “I was wondering… Would it be okay if I stayed with you for a bit? Just until I find a place of my own?”

Your breath catches, and you sit up straighter. Rooming with Oscar? The idea alone sends a jolt of panic and excitement through you. You’re quiet for a moment too long, and Oscar’s voice cuts through the silence.

“If it’s too much trouble, no worries. I can figure something else out.”

“No, no!” you rush out, maybe a little too quickly. “It’s fine, I mean—yeah, you can stay with me. It’s no trouble at all.”

The words leave your mouth before you can fully process what you’re agreeing to. The thought of sharing your space with him, being around him constantly, sends your mind spinning. But you can’t bring yourself to say no. Not to Oscar.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he says, his voice light again, like the weight of the request is off his shoulders. “It’ll just be for a little while.

“Yeah, no worries,” you repeat, though inside, you’re anything but calm.

You hang up a few minutes later after more polite exchanges, but as you set your phone down, the reality of what you just agreed to hits you like a wave. Oscar Piastri, the boy you’d been in love with since you were a teenager, was going to be living with you.

And there’s no way you’re going to survive this unscathed.

That was a year ago.

Oscar hasn’t left as he promised. Not that you’re complaining—you like having his company, and you’d say he enjoys yours as well. But you weren’t going to lie: your crush on Oscar hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown, expanding until it was something you could no longer ignore.

You’d gotten better at hiding it, of course. But there were moments—little, fleeting moments—when you’d catch yourself staring at him too long or feeling a spark when his hand brushed yours. And those moments? They were dangerous.

Living with him had brought its own routines, little traditions that had become your favorite parts of the week. Like Tuesday movie nights. It had started casually—something to fill the time—but now it was your unspoken ritual. The only complication was when Oscar was away for races, but even then, he’d FaceTime you, watching the movie along with you through the screen.

Tuesday movie nights had become a guilty pleasure, though you’d never admit it. You told yourself it was just because of the routine, but deep down, you knew it was because of him. The way he would sit close enough for your arms to touch, the way his laugh made your chest tighten. It was torture, and yet, you craved it every time.

And then there was the way he looked at you—so casual, so unbothered. He had no idea, did he? No idea how your heart raced every time he smiled at you or how the sound of his voice made you forget everything else.

You often wondered if Oscar noticed—if he could feel the tension simmering between you, or if he was just blissfully unaware. Sometimes, you thought you caught him looking at you a little too long, or that his teasing smile held something more. But you never let yourself hope too much. Not when he seemed so completely, utterly unaware of the effect he had on you.

And so, you kept pretending. Pretending that your feelings were buried, that living with Oscar was perfectly normal. But every day, it became harder to ignore the truth: you were still in love with him, and no amount of time or distance could change that.

It was another Tuesday night. Oscar got home earlier than usual, greeting you with a tired smile that made your heart do an inconvenient little flip. You felt oddly underdressed as he looked at you, even though you were in the comfort of your own apartment—cozy sweats and a tank top, nothing out of the ordinary. But something about the way his eyes lingered made your skin feel too warm.

You tried to shake it off, busying yourself by pulling out snacks from the cupboard for movie night. The crinkle of the chip bags was enough of a distraction—until Oscar walked back into the kitchen, out of his workout clothes and now wearing jeans and a simple white t-shirt.

You raised an eyebrow. Jeans? For movie night?

“So, I know it’s movie night,” he began, leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the granite. You watched the way his fingers flexed on the stone, trying not to think too much about how good he looked—like you hadn’t seen him in casual clothes a hundred times before.

“Yeah?” you prompted, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, you glanced up to find him already staring at you. His gaze was soft, but it sent a nervous flutter through your chest.

He rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. “Meredith from PR asked if I wanted to go for drinks.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you forced your face to stay neutral. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way—shouldn’t feel the sudden green wave of jealousy swirling in your stomach—but there it was.

“Oh,” you managed, shrugging like it didn’t matter. “Yeah, I get it. We don’t have to do movie night.”

Oscar’s lips curved into a small pout, and you had to look away because, God, that look was going to be the death of you. “I know you want to do movie night,” he muttered, almost as if he didn’t want to disappoint you.

You kept your eyes on the snack bags, pretending they were the most fascinating thing in the world. “It’s fine,” you said, though your voice was quieter than you intended. “You should go. It’s no big deal.”

There was a brief silence, one that stretched just a little too long for your liking. “Can we do movie night when I get back?” Oscar asked, and the hopeful tone in his voice made it impossible for you to say no.

You hesitated for just a second, your heart already betraying you. “Yeah, sure. What time will you be back?”

“Ten,” he said, and you nodded, already telling yourself that it was fine. You’d fill the time with work. That project needed attention, anyway.

Oscar smiled again, this time a little more relaxed, as grabbed his car keys and wallet. “I’ll see you later, then,” he said, heading for the door.

You forced yourself to smile back. “Yeah, see you later.”

As the door closed behind him, the apartment suddenly felt too quiet. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where he’d been, and tried to push down the uncomfortable knot of jealousy twisting in your stomach. You shouldn’t care this much. He was just your roommate. Just Oscar.

But the pang in your chest told you otherwise.

You tried to shake off the unease, focusing on your project instead. Time passed in a blur of work until you wrapped things up around 9:30. Twenty minutes to spare.

You leaned back, glancing at the clock and then at your reflection in the nearby window. Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself reaching for your makeup bag. Just a little—subtle mascara, a swipe of lip gloss. You told yourself it was because you were bored. But deep down, you knew the truth: you wanted Oscar to see you.

A glance at the clock.

9:48.

You padded into the kitchen, rummaging through the snack cupboard once again. You pulled out some of Oscar’s favorites—chips, biscuits, a pack of his beloved Tim Tams. You reached to the back of the cupboard, fingers grazing the last pack of Tim Tams, and popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

The machine hummed as the kernels popped, the comforting sound filling the silence. You found yourself glancing at the clock again.

9:59.

The popcorn was done. You set it on the counter to cool slightly, and grabbed a few blankets from the couch, arranging them neatly. Tonight was your turn to pick the movie, and you had already decided on La La Land. A few sparkling waters from your last grocery run sat ready on the table.

And then you waited.

You sat on the couch, scrolling through Instagram to pass the time. The soft glow of your phone lit up your face, but the anticipation thrummed beneath your skin, distracting you.

10:15.

Your popcorn was cold.

10:25.

Condensation from the sparkling waters was beginning to leave small rings on the coffee table, pooling at the base of the cans.

10:30.

You sighed, the weight of disappointment settling over you. The TV screen remained frozen on the movie selection screen, your remote still in hand. With a frustrated click, you powered it off and got to your feet. Slowly, you folded the throw blankets, placing them back where they belonged. The cold popcorn went straight into the trash.

Sitting back down on the couch, you stared at the wall for a long moment, a heavy feeling growing in your chest. Why were you waiting for him? Why did it hurt so much?

In a snap decision, you stood up and walked to the front door. You pulled it open, crouching down to check beneath the mat for the spare key. Your fingers closed around it, and you slipped it into your pocket.

Oscar never bothered to take his apartment keys when you were home, always joking about how you had “Oscar tingles”—how you’d somehow know exactly when he was coming home and be ready to open the door. It wasn’t tingles at all, though. You just… waited for him.

Except tonight, you weren’t going to wait anymore.

After locking Oscar out, you settle on the couch, arms crossed tightly, trying to ignore the guilt creeping in. Sure, locking him out might have been petty, but he deserved a little consequence for coming home late. Still, your phone buzzes again—his name flashing on the screen.

“You locked me out.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, debating whether to reply. After a beat, you type:

“Oops. Thought you had your keys.”

“I didn’t take them because you’re always here.”

You hesitate, knowing you can’t leave him out there forever. Letting out a sigh, you slowly rise, dragging your feet toward the door. When you open it, Oscar is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking at you with that familiar easy smile.

He doesn’t seem irritated at all. In fact, he’s grinning like this whole thing is some kind of joke.

“Took you long enough,” he says, stepping past you with a shrug. “I was starting to think you’d make me sleep in the hall.”

You force a smirk, stepping aside. “Maybe you would’ve learned something out there.”

As he walks by, you notice his shirt—rumpled, his collar slightly crooked. Then, you see it: a faint smudge of lipstick near the edge of his neck. Your stomach drops, but you swallow down the sting, forcing yourself to play it cool.

Oscar heads for the couch, oblivious as always, and stretches out comfortably. You stay near the doorway, arms crossed, your gaze flicking over him as you try to keep your voice light.

“Rough night, huh?” you ask, eyes lingering on his collar and the mark on his neck.

Oscar frowns a little, looking down at his shirt before brushing at the smudge casually. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Meredith’s friends get a little… enthusiastic when they’re drinking.” He chuckles, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you.

You force a smile, your voice sharper than you mean. “Clearly.” You gesture vaguely at his collar. “Looks like someone really went for it.”

He glances down again, this time actually noticing the mess of his collar, and shrugs. “Didn’t think you’d care about my wardrobe choices.”

You laugh, though it’s hollow. “Oh, I don’t. Just thought you might want to… tidy up a bit. Wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”

Oscar, still completely relaxed, glances over at you, confused but not concerned. “What wrong idea?”

You stare at him for a moment, caught between wanting to scream and laugh at his complete obliviousness. Instead, you force out a sarcastic reply.

“Nothing,” you mutter, your voice dripping with bitterness. “Just looking out for your reputation.”

Oscar, unaware of the storm inside you, smiles softly and turns his attention back to the couch. “Right. So, still up for that movie? I did say we’d watch it.”

You swallow down the surge of frustration, nodding even though your chest feels tight. “Sure. Why not?”

You head to the kitchen, not to grab the snacks you’d laid out earlier—those were already thrown out when the disappointment set in—but to busy yourself with something, anything, to avoid looking at him. Your chest feels tight, and your head is spinning.

You settle back on the couch with Oscar, and though you’ve tried to compose yourself, the weight of everything unsaid presses down hard. He’s right there—so close—but he might as well be a million miles away.

The movie starts, but you can’t focus. Your eyes flick to the screen, but your mind races. Oscar is relaxed beside you, oblivious, a faint smile on his face as he settles into the film. Meanwhile, the tension inside you is almost unbearable.

And somehow, despite everything, he remains blissfully unaware.

You’re about halfway through La La Land when you suddenly feel Oscar’s arm settle around your shoulders. His fingers brush against your skin, and for a second, it feels like everything stops. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, and your heart skips a beat.

Without thinking, you shrug it off. “I, uh… I think I want some crisps.” The words tumble out of your mouth, and before he can react, you practically leap off the couch, heading straight for the kitchen like your life depends on it.

You tell yourself you’re just hungry, but your racing heart and flushed cheeks betray the truth. Your hands tremble as you fumble with the cupboard door, staring blankly at the shelves.

Suddenly, you sense him behind you. He’s so close you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

“You okay?” Oscar’s voice is calm, but there’s a hint of concern in it.

You nod, even though your heart is hammering in your chest. “Y-Yeah, totally fine. Just, you know… snack cravings.” You don’t dare turn around, because you know if you look at him, you’ll probably combust.

Oscar steps even closer, his breath now ghosting over your shoulder. “You sure?” he asks, his tone soft, as if he can sense something’s off.

And that’s when it happens. You can’t hold it in anymore. The dam breaks, and the words spill out, fast and frantic.

“No! No, I’m not okay! Because I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen, okay? And it’s driving me absolutely insane because you are so damn clueless and oblivious, and I thought maybe after you moved in, my feelings would just—poof—disappear, but they didn’t! They got worse! And then you come home late with lipstick on your neck, and your stupid rumpled shirt, and I try to pretend like I don’t care, but I do, Oscar! I really do! And you just keep acting like we’re—like we’re buddies, and I can’t—”

You stop, panting slightly from the rapid-fire confession, and that’s when you notice it.

Oscar is smiling.

Not just smiling—grinning. A huge, cheeky grin spreads across his face, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Your face flushes even hotter, and you glare at him. “Quit smiling at me! I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

Oscar’s grin softens, but he doesn’t stop smiling. Instead, he takes a step closer, closing the gap between you. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words die on your tongue as he suddenly pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours. It’s not the gentle, tentative kiss you might have imagined. No, this is full-on, heart-stopping, world-tilting, toe-curling. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, and for a moment, you completely melt into it, into him.

But then, reality crashes back down. You shove him back, eyes wide as you remember the smudges of lipstick, the crumpled collar, the late night out.

“What about—what about the girls from the bar?” you stammer, stepping back, heart still racing from the kiss.

Oscar blinks, and then understanding dawns. “The lipstick?” He reaches up, brushing a finger over the spot you’d noticed earlier, and then laughs softly. “It was Meredith’s friend. She tripped, spilled her drink, and kind of… crashed into me. PR disaster, but nothing else.” He shrugs, completely calm as always. “I didn’t mention it earlier because, well, I didn’t think it mattered. Guess I should’ve explained, huh?”

You stare at him, still processing what he’s just said. The knot in your stomach starts to loosen, but your heart is still racing for entirely different reasons now.

Oscar steps closer again, his smile softer but unwavering. “You’re the one I want to be with. Not some random girl from a bar. Just you.” His voice is quiet, but there’s no hesitation in it. He looks at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You feel your breath catch, the weight of everything you’ve been holding in for so long starting to lift. But instead of saying anything, you just stand there, staring at him, your mind a mess of emotions. His hand gently finds yours, and even that small touch sends another spark of warmth through you.

For once, Oscar isn’t oblivious. He can see the worry in your eyes, hope and doubt swirling in your mind. “Hey,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand gently, pulling you out of your head. “It’s always been you. I thought you knew that.”

You blink at him, still trying to believe it’s real. But the way he’s looking at you, so calm and sure… it’s hard not to believe him.

And maybe, just maybe, this isn’t as complicated as you’d made it out to be.

[ctrlchar]

HI POOKUMS!!

COULD I REQUEST A JAKE X F READER SMUT?😽

BASICALLY IM THINKING READER AND JAKE HAVE HAD A PRANK WARS GOING ON FOR A WHILE, THE READER THEN ENDS UP PRANKING HIM WITH VIAGRA PILLS (OR ANY OTHER PILLS THAT JUST MAKE YOU CRAZY HORNY)

IMAGINE JAKE HAVING TO LIKE GO FILM OR GO OUT WITH YOU AND SOME FRIENDS LIKE JOHNNIE OR SOMETHING AND PRETEND LIKE HES NOT ROCK HARD, MORE TURNED ON THAN EVER 🙏

IM REALLY NOT PICKY SO YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOUD LIKE HOW ITS GONNA CONTINUE, BUT THE ONLY THING ID PREFER YOU EXCLUDE IS BREEDING KINK IF THATS OKAY🙏

I HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY POOKUMS!!🥰 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW!!

speed it down then slow it up

a/n:this might just be my favorite request yet tbh so sorry it took this long i’ve been busy lately but i’ll get back to posting regularly soon🙏

also title is from bubble pop electric ‼️

this prank war which jake had of course started had been going on for a eternity. at the moment,he had the upper hand therefore you just had to go all out.

the two of you had mentioned trying some aphrodisiacs a couple times but never fully went through with it. that was until today,when you, jake and johnnie had to record a video inside of a store.

you walked around recording the two boys occasionally passing the camera along to one of them as you waited for the viagra jake had taken to kick in.

you had worn a shirt that showed off a bit of your cleavage but not too much as well as your favorite bottoms

you had been talking to the camera while admiring the items around you until johnnie stopped recording, before practically scolding jake

“hey jake,i get that you may have a girlfriend but i’m trying to shoot a video here and i’d strongly appreciate it if you didn’t stare at her fucking tits the whole video” he says ending it with a sarcastic smile making you laugh

“hm?” he says looking up at you with a somewhat dazed look

you and johnnie let out a laugh at his reaction before eventually forgetting about it and going back to what you were doing

the video continued on as Jake tried his very best to conceal the large boner that has been forming in his pants over the past while, his hands glued to his pockets

he wondered as to why he could barely control himself but that thought went out the window as soon as you had dropped something and bent over to pick it up

he almost let out a small groan at the sight before he concealed it,remembering where he is

johnnie,who was busy looking at some item in the store was oblivious to jake who was practically looking down at you your ass with puppy dog eyes as you stood up

your eyes meet jake’s before they then notice the large print in his pants which you could’ve sworn looked at you first

“please baby don’t leave me like this” he whines in reference to his very prominent boner which you feel as he wraps his arms around your waist,checking to make sure no one else was in the isle

you weigh your options,because if you do help him then you’ll obviously loose the prank war because of your own prank but at the same time you and him wanted it just as bad,he just couldn’t hide it

“come on,you know you wanna help me” he whispers in your ear while he leaves a few small kisses along your neck,with his hard cock pressing right against your ass

this prompts you to quickly go and tell johnnie you and jake were “going to look at something” in the store before darting off to find the nearest bathroom.

as you walked away from johnnie you had a slight skip in your step while you and jake quickly entered the bathroom in hopes no one would see you.

jake instantly forced his hands up your tight fitting shirt groping at your tits before attacking your neck with wet,and sloppy kisses.

“jakey-baby you know I love it when you kiss me there but we don’t have a lot of time” you say in between breaths as he kissed your neck before halting his actions

he agrees but not without a groan and a plea on his end.

and before you know it your pressed against the cold wall with jake sliding the head of his cock inside of you.

with a sharp inhale jake was now fully inside of you,his hands holding onto you tightly as he says a quiet “you feel so good ‘round me” before beginning his assault on your cunt

you slapped a hand over his mouth knowing how loud he gets and as you expected his moans get louder while his strong arms hoisted you and held you against the bathroom stall. and just by how franticly he was thrusting into you, you could tell just how badly he needed you

you rested your head in the crook of his neck whimpering like crazy whenever he would thrust right against your cervix

“fuck- i’m gonna-” he groaned,his fingernails digging into your thighs as he came deep inside you. his hips continuing faster then they had before while his mouth connected with yours to muffle his moans

with his thrusts not faltering,his deep groans and grunts turned more into whimpers and moans when he continued to fuck his cum out of you as the two of you tried your best to stay quiet.

“don’t know how you expect me to stay quiet” he whines with a thrust. “not when she’s squeezing me this good-fuck” he moans out feeling close once again

you then pull him into a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around him, one of your hands creeping up and gripping his hair. the two of you moaned into the kiss,jakes pace slowing down,the tip of his cock still brushing right against your cervix

you pulled back,with your hands still placed around him “jakey i’m gonna cum” you’d whine out. this then makes jake thrust even harder then before trying to get you to reach the peak he gets you too so well

you bite your lip, and surprisingly don’t draw blood, while you and Jake try your best to keep quiet. once again,you pull him into a kiss to stifle his and your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm.

after a few moments,he pulls out and the two of you put your clothes back on before jake stops.

“uhm babe,i know we just fucked but i’m still uh-“ he stutters too embarrassed to tell you. cocking a brow you question him to which you shortly get an answer when you look down and noticed the tent that was still pitched in his pants

[iamthatonefangirl]

harvey specter headcanons

if you know me irl, maybe just skip this one!

part two

part three

~~~

harvey specter, who always sends your favorite burnt orange-colored roses to your desk to remind you of how much you mean to him. 

harvey specter, who thinks you shouldn’t want a thing. who gifts them to you before you even mention that new pair of shoes or purse you would love to have. 

harvey specter, who rests his hand on your thigh whenever you’re seated next to each other. no matter the occasion, or where you are. 

harvey specter, who craves your touch every time a new obstacle comes up with a case. who just wants to be with you and forget about every trial and tribulation he has to deal with. 

harvey specter, who can’t fathom your obsession with listening to the same songs over and over again. but behind the scenes, he’s orchestrating VIP tickets for the both of you to go see your favorite artist, before the tour has even been announced. 

harvey specter, who is much older than you, and has to remind himself that the looks you get from strangers don’t matter. who has to pretend to laugh with you when the waitress refers to him as your father, but really, he’s wondering what the hell he’s doing with someone twenty years younger than him. 

harvey specter, who is afraid to tell you he’s in love with you. he knows it, but he can’t get over his fear that you’re going to leave him. he just hopes you won’t leave him before he gets up the courage to tell you, to reassure you that he does love you, that it wasn’t you, it was his own insecurities. 

harvey specter, who lets you get away with everything. when you want him to come home from the office at a reasonable hour, even though he’s drowning in work, he can’t resist the way you say his name when you call his cell and ask him to come home, pretty please, Harvey…

harvey specter, who pays your bills before you even know they’re due. and when you confront him and tell him baby, I have a job, I can pay my own bills just fine but he insists and says it’s his job to make sure you’re taken care of. and if you’re really that concerned about it, he tells you, I have a few ideas of how you can pay me back. 

harvey specter, who doesn’t know what to do when you’re sobbing in pain, feeling completely helpless, trying to ask what he can do to just make your pain stop. and when you’re feeling better, you think he sounds like your mother when he can barely get the words out to tell you I just wish I could take your pain on myself so you don’t have to feel it. it’s the most heartfelt you’ve ever heard him be. and as you gently hold his face as you kiss him, you reassure him that you’re okay, and him being there for you is more than enough. 

harvey specter, who is so art deco!! Lana del ray anyone plz

nsfw ones: (seriously if you know me please leave now)

harvey specter, who slips both hands underneath your dress after a date night at the most expensive restaurant in town. who grips your hips tight as he grinds you down onto him, eliciting a whimper of his name from you, to which he tells you say it again, and you do, over and over again until you’re cumming on his fingers not long afterwards.

harvey specter, who can barely keep up with your young, early-twenties sex drive. but goddamn he does. 

harvey specter, who can’t help but fall to his knees the minute you tell him you get off to the thought of it. who puts his pride aside to give you that satisfaction because he loves you so much. 

harvey specter, who is shocked by how forthcoming you are about your fantasies after being prompted. who wants to try all of them immediately, but has to remember that patience is a virtue.

[idkwhatever580]

Admiring

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Prompt/Request: I would like a sweet Natasha x reader @cactus-cuddler

A/N: I hope I did it justice!! And lmk if you want to be added to my permanent tag list!!

Y/n’s pov

I roll over when my alarm goes off.

I quickly turn it off because it’s annoying as hell but whatever.

I then turn back around and tell myself I’m staying in bed for five more minutes.

Then I furrow my eyebrows and peek my eyes open when I realize the other side of the bed is still warm.

I see my redhead sleeping soundly and I squint.

I close my eyes and try to think although it is hard given I just woke up.

I double check the time to make sure I didn’t set the wrong alarm and when I see it is proper time for me to get up I am even more confused.

Natasha is never in bed this late. Like never.

Unless she’s sick.

Shit. Is she sick?

I reach over and place my hand on her forehead to feel if she’s warm and she is not.

I go to wake her up but then she looks so peaceful so I just decide to cuddle her a bit.

I end up staring at her. She’s so pretty. The way her nose crinkles a bit every now and then. And how her lips fall open slightly.

Her beautiful red hair. God I love her hair.

“Staring is rude you know?”

She mumbles out.

I roll my eyes and say

“I’m admiring. That’s not such a crime is it?”

She smiles and peeks her eyes open and I say

“Are you feeling alright?”

She nods her head and says

“Why?”

I shake mine and say

“You never sleep in unless you’re sick. So I was concerned.”

I pause briefly and then say

“You’d tell me if you didn’t feel alright would you?”

She giggles and nods her head and says

“I just wanted to stay in bed. Have a chill day.”

I raise my eyebrows and say

“Natasha? Skipping training? Now I know she’s really sick.”

She chuckles at my quip and says

“We should skip work today”

I tilt my head and say

“Baby. I can’t. We have things to do”

“Ugh but it’s just one day! I never ask for this. Please baby?”

She whips out the puppy eyes and I can’t resist them so I say

“Okay fine, but when I get in trouble you’re answering to nick for me”

She smiles and says

“We will just call in sick”

I smile and say

“I like that idea.”

I give her a quick kiss and then I say

“Well. If we’re ‘sick’ then we should go back to bed and sleep in more huh?” I’m

She nods her head and says

“I like your thinking”

I straddle her lap and lay down resting my head on her chest and I breathe in a sigh of content.

I am unable to fall back asleep but I bask in Natasha’s warmth while she gets some much needed rest in.

After about another hour and a half Natasha starts waking up again as I am just playing with her hair.

She smiles at me and I don’t notice that she is awake yet since I am still resting my head on her chest.

Then she moves her hand to my chin and pulls me toward her for a kiss and I obviously kiss back.

And the initial kiss turns into something more. But I push her away and she pouts and I shake my head.

She doesn’t question it like a good girlfriend but she does say

“Are you alright?”

I smile and nod my head. I usually am in the mood so she makes sure to check on me if I ever refuse her advances.

“We’re having a chill day remember? Sick day? Those activities are neither chill nor are they sick activities”

She smiles and rolls her eyes. Then she gets a mischievous glint in her eyes. I raise an eyebrow but before I can think anything else she tackles me into the bed and starts tickling me until I tap out.

We end up watching a few movies until we can’t watch anymore and nat says

“Ugh. I’m bored”

I nod my head and she says

“What should we do?”

She props herself up on her elbow and I do the same to face her. I say

“I dunno”

Then I get a great idea. I smirk and say

“Give me a show”

She raises her eyebrows and sits up.

“A show?”

I nod my head and sit up a bit too

“A show.”

She studies me and says

“What kind of show?”

I smile and say

“Not a dirty show. Sing for me. Make it fun. Put on a show!”

She chuckles at how my eyes light up at the thought of a funny show with a song.

“I don’t know about that one detka”

“I love your voice. Oh please please puhleasee”

I beg her and she gives in almost immediately. She chuckles and says

“Okay but you’re gonna have to cover your eyes until I’m ready”

I nod my head and cover my eyes faster than she can see and she goes to the closet to get herself ready.

I hear her rummaging through our stuff and I also hear her open a box. I can only assume she’s getting out the props I keep for team nights. We like to have props sometimes.

Then I see a hand come out of the closet and set down our speaker. That same hand turns it on and some music starts playing.

I immediately recognize the song as take me or leave me from rent.

I love singing that song with her and it is one of my top favorite musicals.

She sticks a leg out and I see that she put on some fishnets and I smile.

Then she steps out and I drag my eyes up her Fran and she’s wearing a cute and sexy outfit but she’s holding a fake microphone and she has a pink wig on that makes me burst out laughing.

“Every single day. I walk down the street. I hear folks say ‘baby’s so sweet’”

I chuckle as she sings the part that I usually sing. Whenever I make nat sing with me I usually take Maureen’s part and she takes Joanne’s but apparently she’s taking it.

“Ever since puberty everybody stares at me boys girls I can’t help it baby. So be kind and don’t lose your mind just remember you’re my baby!”

I smile and start singing the chorus with her

“Take me for what I am who I was meant to be. And if you give a damn take me baby! Or leave me”

She walks around the room and sways her hips to the beat having fun with it. I just smile and admire her. And I sing the part that Joanne has.

When it gets to the bridge, Nat sits on my lap and we go back and forth like Maureen and Joanne do in the musical.

I’m having so much fun and it’s so funny to see her with this pink wig on.

She finishes the song and we both say their parting words in unison.

“Guess I’m leaving. I’m gone”

Then she stands up at takes the wig off. I start clapping a lot and she bows for me and then when she stands up I give her an eyebrow and say

“So…”

She then says

“So?”

I smile and continue

“Are you gonna take me? Or leave me?”

I dramatically throw my head back with my hand on my forehead and she says

“Oh I’m taking you.”

I smile and say

“Chappell roan?”

She gets my reference and says with an affirming tone

“Hot to go”

I smile and say

“Good luck babe because I heard that this one is tough to love”

Then Nat straddles my waist and says

“But when she loves. She loves hard. And the outcome is so worth it”

I smile and pucker my lips for a kiss. I wait patiently but my kiss never comes so my lips form into a pout as I open my eyes to see what could possibly be hindering her from kissing me and she is just staring at me.

Well. Not really at me. It’s more like she’s zoned out so I wave my hand in front of her face and say

“Staring is rude y’know?”

She smiles and copies my earlier statement

“I’m just admiring”

I smile and my cheeks heat up a bit from the feeling I have under her loving gaze.

“I love you Nat. You know that right?”

She smiles and finally kisses me and when she pulls away she says

“You have proven to me that you love me over and over again. Of course I know it.”

I smugly smile and say

“And I’ll keep proving it until it is written on the walls of your heart”

She smiles and kisses me softly.

“I love you too detka. More than you’ll ever know”

I smile and kiss her nose.

“Good because if you ever decide you don’t and you want to leave me then I have pictures of you singing rent and dancing for me”

She scoffs at my sinister smile and says

“Good thing you won’t have to blackmail me with that. And if you ever do I will probably deserve it.”

I smile and we finish the day with lots of cuddles and movies.

As Nat and I are falling asleep in each others arms as our night is closing. I think to myself.

I’m gonna marry her one day

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you like this one!!!

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat

[takes1]

Some fluff w Koushi maybe?🫶

koushi realizing barista!reader is pretty cute

thanks for the request! this was a cute and refreshing prompt for me <3 much love!!

warnings. none info. sfw / fluff / college!au / coffeeshop!au / simple but cute / suga wears cardigans / timeskip!suga / like imagine english teacher suga pulling a stretchy cardigan over himself ugh so cute / 630 words links. haikyuu collection. masterlist. requests open. my ao3

"Good morning!" A gentle voice blessed your ears.

You smiled without looking up from the register.

Mr. Cardigan's ritual began. Glance over the menu, top-right to the espresso drinks, consider getting a decaf-- of course he won't go with the decaf, it was 7:40 and he was already tapping his foot to get to his 8 a.m class. Then he would decide on his tried and true as if it were a brand new idea:

"Double espresso, steamed milk, sweetened with honey."

He was wearing a face of mild shock, a touch of embarrassment, when you looked up from the order you already input.

"Oh, shit--," You laughed, warm at your slip-up, "I'm so sorry."

"Nono, it's- it's fine," He sported a similar color.

After a moment's hesitation, he chuckled and gave you his card.

Your Monday, Wednesday, Friday shift lined up with everyone who had a MWF 8 a.m (+9, 9:30, 10:00, and 10:30, regrettably). He was one of the few you cared to remember since he was such a cutie and he usually tipped you well.

"It's been a long morning, I get it," He graced you with a smooth forgiveness.

You sighed, relieved, and agreed wholeheartedly.

Spring semester was right at the close. Most were coming in to the Business building's little ground-level cafe early or late to cram for finals. He stayed consistent throughout the past few months, though, with his 7:40 sharp arrival.

7:44 if there was a line, but that was Mondays. Fridays weren't as busy because so many people skipped. But reliable Mr. Cardigan never missed a class.

"Almost done, though," You handed him his card back and spun the tip screen around for him, expecting nothing this time.

"Thank god," He tapped for No Receipt and closed his wallet.

He stood at the counter with his hands crossed in front of him to wait for his drink.

He never noticed how pretty your hands were before today. He looked down at his own kinda stumpy fingers. Then he watched -careful not to come across as creepy- at how gingerly you held the mug to the steam wand while screwing the filter in place.

The urge to talk to you nudged at the back of his throat, but he fell silent when you flipped the switch on.

The espresso machine was always a little too loud to talk over.

It was a graceful background noise to those who studied in this lobby, and a good backdrop to stay quiet to.

This time, he didn't feel as though your usual exchange was natural anymore. He wanted to talk, but didn't know quite how. The usual 4-minute wait felt like ages, but today he wasn't keen on leaving until he spoke to you again.

Your eyes flitted over his when you turned towards the lobby side for the honey.

His broad shoulders tensed and he turned his head to take false interest in some of the artwork on the walls. He didn't realize he was staring so hard.

He wondered how long you had been paying attention to him. If was just habit, or maybe a fondness had been growing and he was always too tired to notice anything other than how well you made his drink.

Now it was impossible not to overthink your friendly customer-service smile, or the smiley face you always put on the side of his cup.

Say something!

He repeated it so many times that his mind had been made unintentionally blank when you held the cup up for him to take over the counter.

"Good luck with finals," You said softly.

When he reached for his latte, your fingertips brushed for the tiniest moment. An intense heat crept up the back of his neck.

A shaky, "You, too," was all he could manage.

masterlist.

requests open.

[creadigol]

Can you continue hero x villain teacher hero?

Thank you so much for the request! This is actually one of my favorite prompts and it was one of my first writing prompt ideas ever, years back before I even had a Tumblr. Due to my love of this one, it kinda got away from me and I wrote a lot. Like a lot. Lol.

I hope y’all enjoy! 

Part 1 and Part 2 here! 

Hero’s very shitty day was taking a turn for the better. 

This morning Hero had woken quite late (due to the extended hero-ing from last night), skipped breakfast, tripped on the curb, spilled their cold coffee, lost their parking space to a visiting mother, and almost got disciplinary action for arriving three minutes past their classroom attendance slot. 

After hearing the ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ of various fourth graders, all of whom watched the principal reem Hero out in the hallway; Hero had finally obtained a sense of control over the class just after lunch. Of course that was after one of the kids had accidentally spilled finger paint on Hero’s chair and didn’t feel the need to tell them until Hero found themselves with a neon pink ass. 

As it was, just after lunch was their history time and Hero, not feeling too great about standing in front of the kids looking this disheveled; nor wanting to show off the new color of their pants, simply opted to play two episodes of Liberty’s Kids while the students sat on the carpet. The ploy seemed to work as not one student strayed from the carpet or asked to go to the bathroom. Hero stayed at the classroom sink, located just behind their desk, and tried to clean themselves as much as possible with the children distracted. 

Hero couldn’t help themselves from laughing along with the kids as the characters in the show told jokes and got into trouble while learning about the creation of The United States. Hero had forgotten how enjoyable the PBS show was and felt very nostalgic as they remembered the show premiering back when they were a child. Some things never age, Hero thought. 

So, all in all, the shitty day was getting better. Perhaps after the show Hero would give the kids a break from memorizing the different kinds of rocks and do a fun science experiment instead. With Hero’s powers they were sure they could make the demonstration look very cool without outing themselves as a super. Maybe they could win back their ‘awesome teacher’ status in the eyes of the kids after it had taken such a hit this morning. 

“Not exactly in style, but I must admit you wear it well.” Hero jumped and turned. How had they not heard someone come in? 

“I’m sorry?” Hero addressed the unknown adult. They turned from the sink, suddenly very aware that they had been wiping their backside with a wet paper towel. Pink was on their hands and now the floor at the attempt…not to mention still on their ass. 

Hero very nearly froze at the sight of the intimidating man. If not for their hero training they surely would have. 

He was tall, tall and brawny, but not in the typical sort of way. The muscle in his physique was evident underneath the expensive Italian silk suit; but there was also a leanness to it, like a coiled spring that spoke of agility and readiness. Hero wasn’t sure why, but they instantly felt off kilter, instantly felt tense, like when they are about to face off against a criminal or a villain. 

“Your ah…” the man smirked and chuckled, “choice of presentation…or should I say style, on your…well…” 

“Oh,” Hero noted the visitors-pass around the man's neck and felt a little of the apprehension fade. Perhaps they were just on edge due to the circumstances the man saw them in. “Not exactly my choice. This is courtesy of a young aspiring artist. She’s just too young to  know where her canvas is.” 

The man laughed jovially, “What a kind way of putting it!”

Hero heard some of the children snicker to themselves from over on the carpet, evidently finding the new stranger and their painted teacher much more interesting than the Revolutionary War. Hero tilted to one side so as to see past the newcomer and give their students ‘the look’.

“Pay attention please,” Hero chided. “You never know…I may be inclined to give you a quiz on this at the end of the day.” 

A series of ‘awwwws’ followed their remark. 

“But if you pay attention now, I might be in too good of a mood to write a quiz…”

All the kids turned back to the television with such force Hero was surprised there was no neck damage. All except for one. 

“Daddy!” 

Oh god. 

“Why hello Maria,” the man stooped down and scooped up the child who had run over from her place on the carpet. He hugged her and then placed her back down. Her stature only reached just past his waste. 

Hero felt their blood go cold. 

Daddy…Maria…

Maria, the student who was first in their class in everything but English…Maria, the student who all the other students named most popular…Maria, the student who aspired to be a veterinarian one day because she loved the class rabbit so much…Maria, the student Villain was most concerned about…

Maria, the student who was the daughter of Supervillain. 

Shit. 

“Are you here to talk to Teacher?” She asked sweetly, her gaze never leaving her father. 

The man nodded, “I am, so you best be a good girl and go back to watching what Teacher has put on.” 

She scrunched her face up in a pout, “But you’re going to talk about me.” 

He nodded as if it made no difference, “I am.” 

“So you’re not supposed to talk about people when they aren't there.” She crossed her arms and gave him a look of determination. 

The man, no Supervillain, laughed. “Is that so?”

She nodded sagely, “Yes. Teacher said so.” 

Supervillain fixed his gaze on Hero. Hero clenched at the sopping, paint dripping paper towel in their hand. 

They knew this day would come. Of course they did. But they had somehow hoped it wouldn’t. Hero was under the impression that Supervillain was not that active in his child’s life. Parent-teacher conferences had always been with Maria’s mother, who had stated that she was happily divorced, and all open houses and concerts had been devoid of Maria’s father ever since she had enrolled at the school. 

When Villain had brought up who Maria was, Hero had already known. After all, they were well connected in the hero world. 

It wasn’t that Hero purposely got Maria in their class, in fact it was the opposite. Hero tried to keep their two lives as separate as possible, but that was just how the dice fell. Hero didn’t get to choose who was in their class and Maria had been assigned to them. 

It was how Villain had found out their secret identity in the first place, their research into Supervillian’s private life had led them straight to Hero. 

Hero had said it was a small world.

Villain had said they best be careful. 

“Really? Well, I guess you better leave me and Teacher alone so they can teach me lessons like that.” Supervillain smiled at Hero. 

Maria was not deterred. 

“No, you just want to talk about my report card. But you can’t, because it’s not parent teacher day.”

Supervillain laughed again and ruffled her hair. “Not all parents need to wait for parent teacher day to talk about their children. It’s a parent’s right to bring up concerns to their children’s teachers, isn’t that right Teacher?” 

Hero gave a hesitant smile, “Yes, of course it is. Though most call first.”

Hero looked down at Maria, “You go back to the show, Maria, Benjamin Franklin’s about to speak to the French Parliament. I know how much you like him. ” 

She looked at Hero with suspicion, though with a hint of apprehension at the idea of missing anything involving Benjamin Franklin. 

Hero smiled warmly at her, “You won’t understand the book I’m loaning you if you don’t know what he did in France for the revolution.” 

Maria’s eyes lit up, “I can take your book home?” 

Hero nodded, “But only if you promise to take care of it for me. Now off you go.” 

“I will!”

She turned to her father and gave him a quick hug before hurrying back to her spot on the rug. Hero almost laughed when they saw her place her head on her fists in an effort to concentrate more on the words Benjamin Franklin was speaking. 

“Nicely done. Though I can’t say I condone bribery,” Supervillain crossed his arms, but still held the smile from before. 

“Well, at least it’s enriching bribery. I told her two weeks ago I had a book at home about Benjamin Franklin and she’s been after it ever since. I guess now I’ll have to bring it in.” Hero found themselves slipping into their normal Teacher to parent tone, though they were sure the tension in their shoulders was noticeable. 

“We’ll make sure to get it back to you just as it was,” Supervillain leaned on the desk and looked down at Hero in a conspiratorial way. Hero tried not to think about how Supervillain was taller than them even while leaning. “Now about Maria’s last report card…”

“Mr….” Hero cut them off.

“Escole,” Supervillain filled in easily, though his eyes rose. “Maria has my last name.” 

“Mr. Escole,” Hero hoped their voice held more bravery than they felt. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your daughter, but this is rather unorthodox. If you wanted to speak about her grades you could have made an appointment for later in the evening or perhaps during their lunch time…”

“Yes, yes,” Supervillain waved them off, “I meant to stop in during lunch but work got ahead of me. I’m sure you know how it is…” Supervillain gave them an up-down, no doubt seeing the old coffee spill mixed with paint and the tear in Hero’s pant leg from when they tripped earlier. “Some days are just chaotic.” 

“I know but…” Hero stopped at Supervillain’s raised hand.

“My darling Maria is too precious to be put on the wayside because of work, don’t you agree?” 

“Of course, but as I said…” In an instant Supervillain was in their face. Their tall body leaned over the desk as though there was no barrier between them. 

“I am a very busy man Teacher, so I’ll get right to the point. I don’t make appointments, people make them with me. When it comes to my daughter, I honestly don’t care whether you’re on lunch or in the middle of a lecture, I’ll be here and when I’m here we will talk. And when we talk, I expect you to listen and do what I want. Is that clear?” 

By the time Supervillain was done, not only was he only an inch away from Hero’s face, but his hand had found its way to Hero’s arm. The grip was tight and bruising, making Hero’s hand that held the pink paper towel shake. 

Every part of Hero wanted to fight, to get themselves out of Supervillain’s hands, but a stronger part of them was hyper aware of the children. They couldn’t fight here. They couldn’t do anything to endanger the children. 

“What do you want to talk about Mr. Escole?” Hero asked in a shaking whisper. 

Supervillain smiled, “Maria was right. You are smart.” 

Supervillain lounged on the desk and pulled on Hero’s arm to bring them down closer. “That new repairman that’s been hanging around…what’s their name?” 

Hero looked them in the eyes with confusion, though in their mind they started panicking. 

Good god, did he know about Villain? 

“I thought you wanted to talk about Maria’s English grade?” Hero spoke. 

“I know you’ll do what you need to with that. I’m not concerned about her grades. What I am concerned with is her account of her teacher being buddy-buddy with a new repairman. One that seems to do the majority of their work only in this classroom.” Supervillain narrowed their eyes at Hero’s large ones. 

“I don’t know what you mean…” Hero stumbled when a hand gripped their throat. Not tight, but plenty threatening. They hoped to god that the children were absorbed in the show. 

“Are you saying my daughter is a liar? That there is no repairman? Now, now Teacher, remember what Maria said? Can’t be talking about her while she’s not here.” 

“I,” Hero breathed raggedly. They couldn’t let this escalate with the children so close. “Every school has repairmen. I…I don’t know what you want.” 

Supervillain squeezed a bit tighter as he stared directly into Hero’s eyes. It took all of their willpower not to look away. What if Supervillain recognized them? They used to think their costume was foolproof, but after Villain had figured it out…now Hero wasn’t so sure. 

“Are all repairmen so attentive?” 

“I don’t know. They come and do their job.” I’m more focused on the kids, Hero almost said, but stopped. They didn’t want Supervillains attention turning the children right at this moment. 

“Nothing out of the ordinary?” Supervillain’s grip on their arm was so tight it felt like it was going to break. Hero suppressed their whimper.

“Not that I’ve seen.” They shook. 

“Then why are they here so often?” 

Hero blinked away tears of pain. “The classroom was in disrepair. It has been for a while. I thought we finally had the funds to fix everything,” They lied. 

“Why no funds?” Supervillain tilted his head. 

 Hero brought their hand up to grip Supervillain’s wrist by their neck when it got tighter. It only made Supervillain shake them. 

“Why no funds?” He asked again.

“I…I’m not sure,” Hero wheezed. “I think the city cut the money during the recession.” 

The hand got tighter. Hero started to see spots. Oh god, did Supervillain see right through them? 

Hero was pulled so close that they were nose to nose with Supervillain. Hero could smell his breath and feel every puff of air that came from his nose. The way Supervillain had positioned himself perfectly blocked what was happening from the children. At least there was that. 

“I want that repairmen gone. Immediately.” He paused, his gaze unwavering, “I expect you not to tell anyone of this encounter. If you do…well Maria will be upset, but there are always other teachers. She’ll get over it.”

Supervillain unceremoniously pushed Hero away. Hero collided onto their wooden swivel chair making the whole thing topple backwards. The crash called attention from all the children. 

“Teacher!”

“Oh no!”

“Teacher are you okay?” 

“What happened Teacher?” 

Supervillain gave a fake look of shock and placed their hand over their heart. “Oh my! Kids, it seems Teacher slipped and fell. Better make sure they’re alright.” 

It was through a throng of worried children that Hero saw Supervillain slip out of the room with a pat of goodbye to his daughter. 

Hero assured the kids that they were okay, just a few bruises. 

“That’s why we never leave water on the floor,” Hero said with a smile. “It was my own doing.” 

All the students laughed at Hero’s rare klutzy moment and were more than delighted when Hero told them they could eat snacks and watch Liberty’s Kids for the rest of the day, no quiz required. 

Once they were settled once again, Hero put their head down on the desk and tried to slow their breathing. 

They had only just got their heart-beat back down when they heard one of the kids approach their desk talking. 

“Teacher slipped and fell. It was after the mean man whispered at them. Now Teacher doesn’t feel so good.” 

“Mean man?” Asked another voice. 

Shit. Not now! Why are they here now? They already practically fixed everything in the school. 

“It was Maria’s dad, but we all call him the mean-man because he didn’t help Teacher up when they fell down.”  

“Maria’s dad?” The shuffling stopped at Hero’s desk. “And Teacher fell after they talked?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Well, you better get back to the show. I think Washington’s about to cross the Delaware. Don’t worry, I’ll check on Teacher.” 

“Okay! Thanks Repairman!”

There was silence. Hero could feel Villain’s eyes staring into as they kept their head down on the desk. 

“Hero,” Villain whispered. “What happened?” 

At first Hero said nothing, then, 

“Are any of the kids around?” Came Hero’s muffle reply. 

“Nope, they’re all eating cookies on the rug.” Hero felt the air change as Villain bent down closer. Unlike with Supervillain, Hero didn’t feel threatened at all. “Why?” 

“I don’t want them to see. It’s sure to have set in now.” 

Villain placed a hand on Hero’s shoulder, “What’s set in?” Hero could hear the urgency in their voice. “Phillip said Maria’s dad was here…”

“Supervillain was here.” Hero confirmed. “And,” Hero lifted their head. Villain sucked in a breath as they saw the dark bruising along Hero’s neck and the mark on their forehead from when they hit the ground. “We had a talk.” 

…

…

…

“I’m going to kill him.” 

@crow-with-a-typewriter @stevihj @waterflower20

[scary-grace]

hi!! for the prompts: 8 & 28? :D i've only recently found ur shiggy fics and i love them all!! i can't wait to read more from you!! 💗

Hi there! Thank you so much for sending me this prompt. This one is set in an AU I've been kicking around for a little while, with the potential to turn into a longer fic one day -- Shigaraki x reader, no quirks/high school au, zombie apocalypse. I'm still taking prompts from this list if you or anyone else would like to send me another!

'shielding the other one with their body' + ‘feeling for each other in the dark’

“Don’t look.” Shigaraki stands squarely between you and whatever lies half in, half out of the classroom. You try to step around him, and he steps back in to block your view. “Hey. What did I just tell you? Don’t look.”

“Just because I’m a girl, you think I can’t –” Rage and stress make you incoherent enough as it is, but beneath it all is fear. Fear because you’ve come to a stop. Fear because you know they’re here somewhere, but you don’t know where, and in the bloodshed that’s unfolded in the halls of your high school since this morning, you’ve learned to fear silence as much as noise. “I can handle it. Let me see –”

“You think it’s because you’re a girl? I wish I hadn’t seen it,” Shigaraki snaps at you. “If I didn’t want to see it, you don’t want to, either.”

For some reason, that argument works on you. “Do you know who it was?”

Shigaraki glances over his shoulder. His jaw clenches, and he looks away fast. “A teacher, maybe. Whoever they were, there’s not enough left of them to reanimate.”

“Good.”

The words feel wrong even as they leave your mouth, but you mean them. With your survival looking increasingly unlikely, the best thing you can hope for is that you don’t come back after you’re killed. “Good,” Shigaraki says. “Let’s go.”

You nod, and inch past the doorway, careful of where you step, avoiding the smears of blood along with everything else. Shigaraki keeps blocking your view the entire way. You’ve been switching off who leads the way, and now it’s your turn. You hold your hand out behind you for the mirror you’ve been using to check around corners and Shigaraki passes it to you, his fingers brushing over yours in a way that would have made your heart skip a beat this morning. Now, with night falling soon, there’s no room left inside you for a stupid crush. All the space is take up by the knowledge of just how quickly things can go wrong.

It started in chemistry class. Everything was fine until chemistry class, even though it’s Valentine’s Day and Valentine’s Day is the worst day of the year for almost everybody. You and your friends did the traditional single-girl chocolate swap, but you brought another small box with you, in case you got up your nerve. And you did. Instead of leaving it in your backpack to be forgotten or in front of his locker to be stolen, you set it down at your lab partner’s seat before he got there.

Shigaraki Tomura isn’t a nice guy. He’s older than you, courtesy of being held back a year sometime in middle school, and while he has friends, every last one of them has a reputation just like his. When you were paired up with him for chem lab at the beginning of the year, most people felt sorry for you, and they said so. But you were determined to make the best of it, not to get off on the wrong foot, and so you were friendly. It took two months for him to start being friendly back.

Maybe that was why you risked the chocolate. You remembered a conversation early on, both of you complaining about couples hanging out in the hallways and blocking you from getting your shoes back, and he’d mentioned something about Valentine’s Day being even worse – everybody and their cat gets chocolate, and I just have to look at it. Writing is your best subject. You read between the lines. And you decided to bring him something way before you admitted you had a crush.

You weren’t sure how you were expecting him to react. Confusion, or interest – you hadn’t signed your name, and if someone gave you chocolate, you’d want to know who it was. But Shigaraki guessed right away that it was you, and when he turned to you, all you could see on his face was rage. It took you three minutes to get your bearings, to respond. Three minutes was enough to get you both sent to the principal’s office.

And it’s a good thing you were there, wasn’t it? In an office with a door that locked and a closed-circuit TV, so when you heard the first screams, you could look into and see exactly what was happening. Your school was devolving into a mess of blood and bodies, and while you refused to say the word, Shigaraki wasn’t shy about it. They’re zombies, he said. And then: We’re fucked.

You made up your mind right then that the two of you were going to survive – and that you were going to finish up the stupid fight you were having in chem class – but as the day’s worn on, it’s gotten harder to hide the truth. The two of you can sneak around the school. You can scavenge food and makeshift weapons. You can use the zombies’ sensitivity to sound to draw them away from wherever you’re trying to go. But you’re still trapped inside the school. You have no idea what conditions are like on the outside, because the school WiFi’s been shut down, and the building’s a dead zone on its best day. And you’re running out of places to go.

Right now you’re moving from the music room, where you spent the afternoon, up into the higher reaches of the building. Going up feels like a bad idea, except the upper levels have fire escapes, which means any room with a window has a way out. You can figure that out in the morning. It’s almost nightfall, and the power’s out. If you and Shigaraki don’t hurry up, you’ll be fumbling your way through a school full of zombies in the dark.

You check around the corner with the mirror. It looks like a straight shot to the stairs, except there’s a couple of zombies knocking around on the landing below your current floor, too clueless to climb up without something to draw their attention. You beckon Shigaraki forward to look into the mirror with you. “Too much open space,” he says, his chapped lips pressed to your ear. “There’s another staircase.”

“On the other end of the school. It’s too far.” You can’t face picking your way back through the sea of bloodstained classrooms the two of you have already crossed. “If we cross –”

“No.”

“If we cross the hall and throw something back the way we came, they’ll clear out and we can go along the wall. As long as we’re quiet –”

The instant the word leaves your mouth, a distant scream pierces the air, and your stomach clenches with horror. There was someone else alive in here – someone else, who’s about to be murdered, and whose cries for help have jarred the zombies on the landing into motion. “Fuck,” Shigaraki mumbles in your ear. “Your idea. Let’s go.”

In the thirty seconds or so it takes the zombies to fumble their way up the stairs to your floor, you and Shigaraki cross the hallway and glue yourselves to the opposite wall. You’ve figured out by now that the zombies don’t see too well. When they pass by, you hold ridiculously still, barely even breathing, and as soon as they round the corner, both of you bolt for the stairs. The stairs are covered in bookbags, backpacks, coats, water bottles, even phones – anything someone would have dropped as they ran for their lives.

You’re careful with where you step, worried not just about sound but about whatever you put weight on sliding out from underneath you. Shigaraki’s not as careful, and it costs him. He stumbles on the strap of a backpack, turns his ankle, curses as he kicks free. The thump of the backpack as it tumbles a few steps down the stairs makes you cringe, but there’s something even worse – a metal water bottle, rolling from the edge of one step. Shigaraki lunges for it, misses. You go for it, and you don’t miss.

But Shigaraki’s off-balance, and with his ankle turned, he can’t catch himself without making noise. A cascade of backpacks and water bottles tumbles down the stairs, jangling and clattering as they go, and you freeze. So does Shigaraki. If there are zombies on the upper floor, you’re both dead, but you don’t hear footsteps above you. What you do hear are the stumbling groans and thuds of zombies coming from every other direction.

You need them to keep going every other direction. You adjust your grip on the water bottle and throw it as hard as you can down the hall, listening to it clang against the tile floors. That should distract them at least a little. Long enough for you and Shigaraki to get to the upper floor. You reach out, offering to help him up the stairs, but he smacks your hand away and gets to his feet on his own.

The two of you can’t use the mirror to check what awaits you at the top of the stairs, but it’s quiet. Shigaraki’s taller, so he stands up straight, peering into the hallway. “Nothing,” he says, when he drops back down at your side. “All the doors are open. We can pick a room.”

The upper floor is weirdly quiet, weirdly empty, weirdly clear of bodies and blood. It’s like everyone got up and left at once. Every time you peer into a room, you expect a nightmare to leap out at you, but the only things moving through the hall are you and Shigaraki. It’s creeping Shigaraki out, too. “Where did they go?”

“We heard the fire alarm go off. People on the top floor would have evacuated down the stairwells.” You remember this morning’s screams, and the way the fire alarm howled for an hour before falling silent. “The zombies wouldn’t have had a reason to come here. How about this one?”

Shigaraki peers into the room you picked. “It’s tiny.”

“It’ll be easier to keep warm,” you say. He gives you a weird look. “The power’s out. The heat will be, too. This has a window and a fire escape.”

“The door doesn’t lock.” Shigaraki turns the handle this way and that. “We’ll barricade ourselves in.”

“We should check the classrooms first,” you say. “People leave their backpacks in a fire drill. Maybe somebody left some food.”

Your idea was to split up, to check the classrooms one at a time, but Shigaraki follows you, and the two of you pick over your dead classmates’ belongings mostly in silence. Shigaraki collects food and water, and you do the same, although you add in other things that might be useful. Portable chargers, assuming any of them are charged. Medicine – allergy pills, ibuprofen, band-aids. A spare pair of socks, a pencil pouch with tampons and panty liners, a toothbrush and toothpaste. The only things you don’t touch are the packages of chocolate your classmates left behind.

Shigaraki doesn’t ask questions until you’re back in your chosen room, the door barricaded and the spoils from your looting spread out on the floor between you. “What did you grab that for?”

“Stuff we’ll need. For when we get out of here.”

Shigaraki scoffs. “You think we’re getting out of here? They left us. They don’t care what happens to us. Once the military gets its shit together they’ll burn this place to the ground.”

“So we’ll get out before then,” you say. “Why did you grab all that food if you think we’re just going to die?”

“We might as well eat good until then.” Shigaraki pokes at a bag of chips, then grimaces. “These are gonna be loud.”

“Maybe that’s how we sort them. Quiet stuff first.” You start rearranging the supplies, and Shigaraki helps without arguing. Outside the window, the sun is setting fast. “We want to be ready to go in the morning.”

“Go where?” Shigaraki shakes his head. “Even if we make it down the fire escape, we’re just going to land in the bushes. Every zombie in the school will hear that.”

“The bushes are right by the student parking lot,” you say. Shigaraki looks up. “How fast can you hotwire a car?”

“Do you think I was in a gang or something?”

“Do you know how to or not?”

“I can do it.” Shigaraki glances out the window, grimaces. The room is so dark that you can barely make out his expression in the dark. “Let’s say we make it that far. Where do we even go?”

“Anywhere,” you say. “Anywhere’s better than here.”

Shigaraki could argue with you. You even know what he’d say – something about how a zombie outbreak would be even worse in a city, how there are plenty of places the two of you could go where you’d be fucked even worse than you are right now. But he doesn’t argue with you. Instead he slides an energy bar across the floor to you. It’s one of the ones you like, one he’s probably seen you eat dozens of times. You didn’t realize he paid attention to stuff like that.

You pay attention, too. You hand him a package of the cookies he always gets from the vending machine, and the two of you settle down to eat in silence.

You’re both night owls – you know that, courtesy of messaging him late about projects and getting an almost instantaneous response – but without light and with the need to save your phone batteries, both of you settle down early. The door’s firmly barricaded. The only other way out is the window and the fire escape, and zombies can’t climb, which means you and Shigaraki are as safe as it’s possible to be. It’s safe for you to fall asleep.

Your mind knows that, but your body doesn’t. Every inch of you is humming with adrenaline, your limbs shaky instead of sure, and no matter how safe your current hideout might be, you know the world outside isn’t. Shigaraki’s right. Where are you going to go, if the two of you manage to get out of here? The zombie virus always spreads, even in zombie movies with happy endings. How many high schools is it in now? How many towns? Even if you live to be a hundred, you’ll never forget what you saw here. What you heard. What you smelled. But you won’t live to be a hundred. You’ll die. Probably tomorrow.

Even though you picked the smallest room to hole up in, the cold still seeps in. Two people’s body heat isn’t enough, especially not when you’re sleeping on opposite sides of the room. But there’s no way you’re cuddling up to Shigaraki in the middle of the night. Given how he reacted to the chocolates you gave him, he’d probably kill you for suggesting it. Why did he react like that, anyway? You never got an answer.

A hand brushes across your shoulder and you startle so badly that your heart goes still in your chest. “Don’t do that.” Shigaraki’s voice is barely a rasp. “You’re cold, too. If you freeze to death I’m never getting out of here.”

“I thought we were dead anyway.” You feel Shigaraki inching closer to you across the tile floors and make what’s probably a stupid decision. “Why not? I guess you need somebody to throw to the zombies to slow them down.”

“Why, so I can make it another five feet on my own? Not worth it.” Shigaraki settles in beside you, until you’re lying back to back. You’re pretty sure that you have to get closer to share body heat with any effectiveness, but you’re not going to say a word. “It’s better to be on a team. I could do a lot worse.”

The urge to ask him about the chocolate boils up again, but it’s faint, transient. There’s something more important you need to ask. “Shigaraki, I need you to promise me something. If I get bitten –”

“I know. Put you out of your misery.” Shigaraki yawns. “I can do that.”

“No,” you say. “That’s not the kind of movie we’re in.”

“Then what? I’m supposed to drag you with me until there’s a cure?”

You grit your teeth. “I need you to promise me,” you try again. “If I get bitten – just let them eat me.”

Shigaraki coughs. “What?”

“Just let them eat me,” you say. You feel strangely calm. “If you kill me after I’m bitten, I’ll come back as one of them. The only way I won’t is if my body’s too damaged to reanimate. So don’t try to save me. Just let them finish it. Save yourself.”

The silence in the small room is deafening, broken up only by the sound of your breathing and the wind outside. Is what you asked of Shigaraki really that big of a deal? You’re not asking him to do it himself, just to let nature take its course. “No,” Shigaraki says after a silence so long that you thought he might have fallen asleep. “Fuck that.”

“Shigaraki –”

“I said it’s better to have a team. My team is you.” Shigaraki rolls over next to you, then yanks at your shoulder until you do the same, and you’re nose to nose in the dark. “I don’t abandon my teammates. We’re getting out of here. Tomorrow.”

His eyes are clear, locked on yours. You look away. “You’ve changed your tune.”

“You were the hopeful one all day. It’s my turn,” Shigaraki says. He yawns, turns his head to hide it in his elbow without lifting his hand off your shoulder. “Go to sleep before you get any other dumb ideas.”

There’s no way you’re going to be able to sleep face to face with him. You roll over again, putting your back to him, and shut your eyes, ordering yourself not to open them until morning or until something important happens. And something important does happen – or at least, something that would have felt important this morning, before the end of the world. Some stretch of time later, Shigaraki’s arm falls deliberately over your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

[outerbankies]

you didn’t do anything wrong & squeeze my hand baby... hype to read these bestie😩🥵

new light: no surprises

nl masterlist

a/n: thank you for sending this in!!! (so very very long ago) (desperately hope whoever sent this in is still around to read it or will stumble across it one day) (feel like it wasn't what you imagined in sending these prompts, but i tried!!!) takes place in part 6 (??) after the porch swing talk but before the goodbye. yes let’s go with that and sorry for any retcon

Rafe Cameron insists on walking you to your parents’ front door every time he drops you off. It’s second nature to you, now, to wait as he opens his truck’s passenger door and shuts it behind you once he’s helped you out, his hand outstretched for yours, which has hardly touched a door handle since you began dating. He’s a romantic, big on good-night kisses, and he’ll always wait until you’re inside before he so much as turns around to start walking back to his truck.

It took some getting used to, and you’d passed the point where you thought he might give it a rest. But that never happened, and you’d come to learn you want to expect nothing less—not from him or from any other guy you’d plan to get serious with, which was hardly a thought your mind could conjure these days.

How could it, when it was always taken up with remembering the names of songs you think he’d like, or reminding yourself to change out the water in the seemingly endless vases of flowers stationed on your desk, your dresser and your night table, or by reading books he’d recommend to you only after he’d finished them—after many sessions tucked together on a beach towel under the shade of an umbrella.

But maybe just this once, you really wish he was more like your ex-boyfriend back at college, the one who dropped you off at the end of your driveway and sped away more nights than he didn’t.

Of course, that just wouldn’t be your boyfriend Rafe Cameron.

“What do you think about the mainland tomorrow?” he asks, his hand at the small of your back, the two of you climbing the steps of your parents’ porch, slowly, drawing out the moments before goodbye.

“I think I love that idea,” you decide, smiling as you think about it. 

“Let’s get the early boat,” he says. “Sarah told me about this new brunch spot.”

“I definitely trust her taste. She’s bougier than you,” you say, drawing away from him and toward the door, hand still connected to his.

“I’m not sure if I’m insulted by that,” Rafe says, pulling you back toward him before shifting his body to fit between you and the door, giving you no access to the knob. “But I am sure that I’m not ready for you to go inside yet.”

“You’re not?” you muse, slipping your arms up and around his neck. 

About a month ago, you’d be concerned about your giddiness for him being written all over your face. But Rafe’s cheeks were almost permanently tinged pink in your presence, and it only has the effect of making you want him more. 

“This dress is insane,” he says, leaning in for a peck only after his eyes sweep up your frame the way they had been doing all night. “You gonna leave your window open for me tonight?”

“Might close it early,” you shrug, pretending to ponder on it.

But Rafe is having none of it, lips catching yours in a way that should embarrass you when you know your dad’s home office has a street-facing window. “Really?”

“Y’know, gotta catch that early ferry and all.”

“What time should I come?” he murmurs against your lips, his arms constricting impossibly tighter around your waist. “Or we can skip brunch. Actually, fuck brunch and forget I said anything.”

“I’ll text you,” you say. “Alright? Just hang on a bit.”

“I’ll try,” he sighs, dropping one more kiss to your forehead as you reluctantly step away. “But no sweat. Get some sleep if you need to, sweetheart.” 

The front door flies open just as you’re making to push it in, your mother’s excited face appearing before you. Never in the history of the world has that been a good sign.

“I thought that was you two!” she says. “Rafe, a pleasure as always.” 

“You as well, Mrs. Y/l/n. I was just going.”

“Nonsense,” she says, before turning to you. “Y/n, your grandparents are here.”

You blink. “Why?”

She glances between you and Rafe, still exuberant, ignoring your question completely. “Have him come in and meet them, will you? They’ll be so excited.”

Your head is spinning, but you feel Rafe’s hand slip into yours, and you give him a squeeze for reassurance. For who, you aren’t sure. “Mom—sorry, when did they get here? I wouldn’t have went out tonight if I knew.”

“They surprised us. Now surprise them back,” she urges, turning before you answer, heels click-clacking across the foyer. She glances over her shoulder, one last enticement. “Peach pie.” 

You turn to Rafe, sighing with your face immediately buried into his chest.

His laugh reverberates. “C’mon, baby girl.”

“You don’t have to come in. I promise,” you say.

“I want to. I promise,” he answers, shrugging. “As long as it’s alright with you, it’s alright with me. Your mom’s side, right?”

Your eyes widen, thinking about the alternative. “Yes. Jesus, if it was my dad’s, we’d be back down the road already.”

You sigh, trying to steel your nerves with your eyes shut tight. The door was still open—you needed to get in there sooner or later.

“Y/n,” Rafe says, your full name falling off of his tongue and invoking in your body an involuntary reaction. He was more keen on pet names, you’d noticed, and shortening your name to the one only your friends called you. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” you confirm, taking him by the hand again as you both face the entryway. Your far hand reaches up to grab at the crook of his elbow, both of your hands gripping, but not too tight.

“Are you? What’s our signal?”

You feel your eyebrows knit. “Our signal?”

“Yeah. Y’know, like a code word or something when you need an out. You and Dylan don’t have one?”

You think back to previous holidays, the eye contact made at the table, the kicks in your shins and the heavier sips when you realize you’re on the same page—that it’s time to get just drunk enough to be able to handle this without tipping anyone off. “I think our signal might just be alcohol.” 

“I’m not getting drunk in front of your dad.” 

You roll your eyes. “I know.”

“What about Kelce?” 

“What about him?” you ask. “We don’t have a signal either.”

“No, his name. The word. Just say ‘Kelce’ if you need me to dive bomb us out of the dining room,” he says. 

You shake your head, still racking your brain and prolonging the inevitable. “That won’t work. My grandma loves talking about Kelce.”

“Huh,” Rafe says, incredulous, his mouth twisting. “Imagine that.”

“Sorry,” you wince, squeezing his hand again. “Sorry—she just. We’ve been friends for so long. That doesn’t matter. They’re gonna love you.”

“Just do that,” he says, like he’s already moved on. “Just squeeze my hand, baby.”

You look down at where your hand is clasped in his, giving another experimental squeeze and having it returned.

He nods, a question in his eyes. “Got it?”

“Got it,” you say with a grateful smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “And you do it, too. You know, if she does bring up Kelce and you can’t handle it. She still talks about his prom tux.”

“Too soon, Y/l/n,” he mutters, leading you over the threshold. “Too fuckin’ soon.”

—

“No more,” Rafe groans, his hand on his stomach. “I might explode.”

You eat the last bit of peach pie off the fork you’d been offering to him, the both of you giggling as he wipes a bit from the corner of your lips. The way he licks his thumb after has you grateful your grandparents are already halfway back home—you know Rafe wouldn’t come back over later if he knew your grandparents were spending the night.

“You realize she’ll show up at Thanksgiving with, like, three of those now?” you say, setting the fork on the plate he’s holding, which he quickly puts on the table beside the couch before he leans back.

“Let her. I’ll wear an elastic band.”

“A little presumptuous,” you say. “Thinking you’ll get an invite to my mother’s Thanksgiving dinner.” 

Rafe looks temporarily affronted. “I—”

“M’joking, baby,” you say, kissing his cheek, legs thrown over his. “She’d kill me if I didn’t bring you. And now I think my grandparents would, too.”

“Cliff is chill as hell. I can’t believe your grandpa runs a nonprofit. That’s not very Figure 8 of him,” Rafe says.

You roll your eyes, burrowing your head into his chest all the same as he fails to hide any affinity, just as your grandmother had done with him. Appeasing the women in your family could never be further down on your list of priorities, especially when it came to your suitors. But you couldn’t help but feel something happy settle in your stomach, watching your mom exchange looks with her own mother as they watched Rafe. 

“Maybe that’s why they moved.”

“I guess I’m surprised,” he admits. “Your mom… she’s so…”

“Figure 8?”

“Is that okay to say?”

“Yeah. She is,” you say. “It’s kinda engrained. But I think she likes it that way.”

“You’re not like that,” he says, his thumb dragging down your shoulder and back again. “What was your grandpa saying about a job next year?”

“Hm?” you say, snuggling down further into him, eyes starting to droop. 

“I dunno,” he says quieter. “I thought Cliff was talking about you coming to work for him next year.”

You heard him correctly the first time, but you honestly hoped he’d drop it. “Yeah. Just newsletters, digital. Stuff like that.”

“That sounds cool,” he says, and you can hear him trying in vain to keep his voice even.

“He said I’d get my own office,” you admit. “And a title.”

Rafe perks up slightly. “Oh yeah?”

“Senior nepotism associate.”

“Get out of here,” he laughs, tugging on the strand of your hair that he’d been twirling around his finger, a bit of the tension breaking between you. “That shouldn’t bother you. And it figures that’s your bloodline. All those ocean cleanups you dragged us to.”

“Seem to remember you showing up to…” you trail off, counting on your hands. “1, 2… let’s see, all of them?” 

He bats at your hands. “Alright, alright. Have you thought about it though?”

“A little,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation you didn’t want to have. “I know a few of his employees. And I don’t think I’d mind working for him. Their mainland office isn’t a far walk from the ferry in. It’d be great, really.” 

“But…” he pries, tugging on the strand again.

“But,” you sigh. “I don’t know. I still don’t wanna close myself off to the idea of staying in California. I love it there. I’m making ins with Agnes and her network, I know it.”

He nods, going quiet for a while as you both gaze out at the water. “It’s nice that you have options, though.”

You turn to him then, taking his far hand and holding it between yours, fiddling with the cigar band on his ring finger. “It’s a whole year away, Rafe.”

“I know,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Hey, I know. I just don’t like thinking about being away from you.”

“Well we’re… Rafe, we’re gonna be apart,” you say. “At least for a year. And that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

He nods again. “I guess... this summer, it’s just been easy to forget all of that. That I’m going to Georgia and you’re going to California, and you might not be coming back. But I am. And even though I know that... I don’t know what it says about me that I’m picturing having you here with me all the damn time.”

You’ve taken the time to picture it, too. It’s hard not to when most of the summer has been interrupted bliss, and you’ve been toying with the idea of coming back long before Rafe re-entered your picture.

“This is why I didn’t wanna talk about it,” you say morosely, beside yourself when you feel your tear ducts sting.

“Baby,” Rafe whispers. “Hey, baby. I’m sorry I brought it up. I just thought with how he was talking about it, I don’t know, it sounded like you were really considering it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Rafe,” you tell him, willing your tears not to fall. But now that he’s onto you, that he’s reading the emotions in your eyes and feeling what’s weighing on your heart, it’s like your body decides it’s allowed to fall apart. You sniffle. “I don’t know what I’m considering. But I don’t like thinking about being away from you either.”

He thumbs away some tears, before looking back out across the horizon, the sky somehow almost an inky black color when it had just been lit up in hues of orange and pink minutes ago. 

“Hate it when you do that,” he says, his arm dropping around your shoulders again.

“What?” you ask.

“Cry because of me.”

You don’t have anything to say to that, and if you tried to speak again you might completely lose it, so you settle for slipping your hand back into his, squeezing as tight as you can.

Because you know this isn’t the first—and certainly won’t be the last—time that you’ll cry over Rafe Cameron.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm a freak that is searching for redemption

for @subeddieweek day seven with the prompts subdrop and daddy kink and praise kink

rated e | 2,239 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr Day four: ao3 | tumblr Day five: ao3 | tumblr   Day six: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve dropped Eddie off at the trailer, only coming inside to make sure he got into a warm shower and had a snack.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning to bring you to school, okay?” Steve kissed his forehead as he gently guided him into the steamy shower. “I’ll leave a note for Wayne so he knows your van broke down.”

Eddie could only nod, still a bit out of it from their fun in the car.

He still felt unmoored, even with music playing softly in his room and a candle lit that smelled like the cologne Steve wore.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up still wrapped in his towel, pillow soaked from his hair being wet, all he could think was how much he wished he hadn’t woken up yet.

Wayne used to call him his Melancholy Mule when he first came to live with him and spent mornings pouting in bed. He had no good reason, other than most of the shit that life had handed him, and Wayne was just trying to make light of a shitty situation. But he couldn’t help but wonder if he was having one of those days again.

He hadn’t in a while, not since Steve, maybe not since he’d failed high school the first time.

But his body felt heavy, his eyes drooping closed despite the nagging feeling that he needed to get up and get ready. His thoughts were all over the place, but nothing was connecting.

Steve.

He needed Steve.

A shiver went down his spine as he realized he was still alone.

Steve hadn’t come back for him. He’d left him here.

“Ed?” Wayne knocked on his bedroom door, opening it a crack and letting in some light from the hallway. “Steve’s here. You want me to let him in?”

Steve’s here? He didn’t leave?

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was rough, rougher than it usually was in the morning.

There was a voice behind Wayne, and then the door opened more. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut at the light entering his dark room, his body curling into itself.

“Eds? You okay?” Steve’s voice was right next to him, and when Eddie managed to open his eyes, he was kneeling next to Eddie’s bed. His hand covered Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing soothing patterns under his eye.

Eddie let out a small whimper and closed his eyes again.

He couldn’t understand what was wrong, had no idea why he didn’t even cheer up at the sight of Steve, but he knew he couldn’t possibly get out of this bed right now.

“Shit. Sweet boy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you last night, not until you fell asleep at least. Did you sleep last night?” Steve was suddenly pushing him over on his bed, sliding into the spot Eddie had previously taken and wrapping him up in his arms.

Steve was warm.

His hands felt big against Eddie’s back, strong, like they could pull him from whatever depth he was drowning in right now.

“Eddie, baby, look at me.” Steve’s voice sounded worried. Eddie didn’t want that. He managed to open both of his eyes and look up at Steve. “That’s it. Love when you’re so good for me. Did you sleep last night?”

“Mhm. Can I sleep now?” Eddie was so tired. His whole body felt like it was being dragged through the mattress, right through the floor. His chest was heavy, almost like the last time he had a chest cold, but without the coughing.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling first? Just so I can make sure I know how to help.”

Steve still sounded worried and Eddie didn’t want him to. He was fine, just tired. And maybe a little bit sad. He didn’t know why he was sad, but it would pass.

“Just wanna sleep. Can I skip school?” Eddie mumbled against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat as it lulled him into a comforting silence.

“Sure, baby. Wayne’s gonna go look at your van.”

“Mmkay.”

A voice in the back of Eddie’s head was telling him to try to stay awake and talk to Steve more, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes open or form any more words.

***

“Thanks, Wayne.”

Steve’s soft voice filtered through Eddie’s dreams, causing his eyes to flutter until he was blinking open to sunlight coming in through his window. He always kept his curtains closed so someone must’ve opened them.

He was mad at that someone.

He groaned and turned his head further into Steve’s chest, his fingers curling into his shirt.

He smelled so good all the time. How did he always smell like he just got out of the shower?

“Hey, sweet boy. Feeling a little better after your nap?” Steve asked, one hand playing with his curls while the other played with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah. Sorry I was out of it earlier. Must not have slept good,” Eddie started to pull away, but Steve’s arm tightened, pulling him close against him again.

“My fault,” Steve muttered under his breath. “Have you ever dropped like that before?”

“Dropped?” Eddie asked, finally pulling away to look up at Steve.

“I think you dropped after last night. It was my fault. I knew you were still a little floaty when I put you in the shower and then I left without checking in again. I’m so sorry, baby. You were so overwhelmed with everything that happened with the van and then what we did in the car, I should’ve stayed or taken you to my place,” Steve was running his hands up his sides. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

Oh.

That’s what that feeling was.

He’d thought Steve left because he hadn’t done good. He hadn’t even realized until now that’s what the disappointment was in the shower and when he crawled into bed and when he woke up this morning.

“I didn’t?”

“No, sweet boy. You were perfect for me, you’re always perfect for me. Letting me have you whenever and wherever I want? God, you’re so amazing.” Steve kissed his forehead. “Do you need anything from me? Anything.”

“I…don’t know,” Eddie was feeling quite a bit better, still a little bit off, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Steve was clearly beating himself up over what happened, and his words were melting what was left of the ice in Eddie’s stomach. “Can you hold me for a while?”

“Of course, baby. All day if you want. Wayne took the van to the shop and they’re gonna take care of it. He’s gone to grab dinner and go to work.”

“What time is it?” Eddie couldn’t have possibly been out all day.

“Nearly five. You were tired, love.”

“But-”

“It’s okay,” Steve hushed him with a kiss to his lips. “You’re good.”

“Does Wayne…know?”

“He just thinks you’re having a bad day. Didn’t think you’d want me to tell him the details of our sex life,” Steve smirked. “I didn’t really want him to kill me either.”

“He knows you take care of me.”

“I didn’t last night.”

That tone was not one that Eddie wanted. That tone was beyond apologetic, bordering on self-hatred.

“You did. You made sure I took a shower. You had music playing so I wouldn’t feel so alone. A candle that smelled like you. You did what you thought was gonna work. It probably would have any other time.” Eddie kissed his chest, then his jaw. “You were good to me. You’re always good to me.”

Steve smiled at him before he kissed his lips, soft, but lingering.

“How long are you staying?” Eddie asked him.

“As long as you want me.”

“So…forever?” Eddie poked his cheek.

“Forever sounds good to me. You wanna get up and have something to eat?”

“Yeah.”

Steve helped him up and gave him a piggyback ride to the kitchen, smiling as Eddie giggled against his neck. He set him on the counter and started cooking some spaghetti, wanting something quick and easy, but still filling to make up for all of the meals Eddie had missed today.

He did everything but feed him by hand, which…hm, maybe they could do that sometime. Eddie liked when Steve got in the mood to take care of him like this, so it was worth a shot.

“Good?” Steve asked after they both had a bowl and a half.

“Good. Thanks for taking care of me,” Eddie nuzzled his neck, noticing that they hadn’t stopped touching the entire time.

“You know I love to,” Steve kissed his temple. “Bed?”

“Depends.”

“On if we’re gonna be naked.”

Steve snorted. “You sure you feel up for that?”

“I am dying to have you inside me again.” Eddie half-joked before looking at Steve seriously. “I feel empty without you inside me.���

“Eds, baby,” Steve leaned in to kiss him, hard and fast. “I would live inside you if I could.”

“You can live there part time. Like, right now. I won’t even charge rent or anything.”

They both laughed as Steve lifted him up in his arms and carried him towards his bedroom, smiling up at him and barely paying attention to where he was going. He knew the way like the back of his hand anyway.

It was more rushed than usual, but they weren’t playing right now. At least not yet.

Eddie could tell Steve needed this, needed to just have Eddie against him, touch him until he was writhing with pleasure. Eddie needed it too.

Having Steve kissing his tattoos, his moles on his chest, the scar on his thigh from when he cut himself trying to make his own sword as a kid, was like finally feeling sunshine after a rainstorm. He could feel himself shivering, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“You okay, baby?” Steve whispered against his skin, breath making goosebumps appear against him.

“So good, daddy.”

Steve paused, pulling away from him.

Eddie whined.

“Eddie, baby, look at me.” Steve’s tone was different now, not nearly as soft or calm. Eddie looked at him, of course. Whatever it was had to be serious. “Love, do you know what you just said?”

He wasn’t floating or anything, hadn’t really gone numb or thoughtless like he did when they played. They were just making out, getting a bit heated, but nothing like they had the night before.

“Um, no? I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You called me daddy.”

Eddie sat up.

“I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Eds, baby, breathe.” Steve’s hands were solid against his shoulders, holding him down, keeping him tethered to their bubble of safety. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“But it’s weird, right? It’s different than what we do. And we didn’t ever talk about that and you shouldn’t have to-”

Steve’s lips against his shut him up quickly, but his mind still raced with apologies and excuses, things he could say to make sure Steve wouldn’t run from him.

“Sweet boy, nothing we do and nothing you could ever say is going to be weird to me. It just startled me a little.” Steve kissed the tip of his nose while his hands rubbed gentle circles into his upper arms. “You never mentioned that’s something you were into before.”

“I didn’t think it was something I was into,” Eddie admitted, cheeks red. “I’ve never been into it before.”

“Not even in porn?”

Eddie shook his head. “I didn’t really get it.”

“Do you wanna talk about why you said it?” Steve was always so careful and kind, patient when Eddie felt ready to explode.

“I just felt cared for.”

“More than usual?”

“I guess,” Eddie shrugged. “I wasn’t even floating or anything. I just knew you’d make sure I was okay and that you’ve been making sure I was okay all day.”

“Yeah. I’ll always take care of you, baby, you know that.” Steve pecked his lips. “Do you think you wanna call me that sometimes?”

Eddie didn’t really know. He certainly hadn’t put any thought into it before now, and he didn’t think Steve had either. And with how he was still coming off of his drop, and how stressed Steve had been this morning, maybe now wasn’t the time to dissect it.

“Maybe.” Eddie leaned his head forward, resting it against Steve’s broad chest. Steve’s arms wrapped around him, centering him. “Think I need to sleep on it.”

“Mkay, baby. Whenever you’re ready,” Steve kissed the top of his head. “You wanna keep going or just cuddle?”

Eddie knew it would feel good to keep going, but he could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones and muscles, and he knew that Steve was probably just as tired. Anything they did now would be born out of necessity, not because they wanted to work each other over.

“Cuddle.”

“You’re so good for me, baby.”

He let the words wash over him as Steve pulled him against his chest. They settled together, Steve’s fingers tracing patterns along Eddie’s back and sides until all he could focus on was being surrounded by Steve’s love.

“Love you so much, sweet boy,” Steve whispered as Eddie slowly drifted to sleep.

The next time he woke up, he’d smile and curl further into Steve’s side and he’d start his day feeling good.

He’d always feel good with Steve by his side.

[theyanderespecialist]

The Deal (Scenario) Yanderes Asmodeus/Fizzarolli X GN Blitzo Reader (Helluva Boss)

[Hello, I am finally getting around to this one! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter! It is after Fizz quits and How Ozzie and Fizz's relationship changes. Maybe a little of that episode! So good luck! I hope that you all enjoy this. 

Disclaimer: You take the place of a Gender Neutral Listener 

Disclaimer 2: Fizz and Ozzie are a canon couple, they are not yandere in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously. Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine. Just do not be illegal or gross about it. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon.

(Yanderes Asmodeus/Fizzarolli) 

(No One's POV) 

Fizz had a crush on (Name) when they were kids. They were just such sweet Imps. Then the accident happened and a huge misunderstanding came from it. For over a decade he has hated one of the loves of his life. He mourned that he could have been with (Name). When Fizz learned the truth, that (Name) had wanted to see. That they do care. It made his heart ache. Also, it reminded him that they were dating Stolas kind of. That left him bitter and angry. 

He gets ready for his date with Ozzie and then hears Ozzie come in. 

"Why are you upset Froggy?" Ozzie asks him. 

"well you know how I used to have feelings for (Name)...?" Fizz asks. "After they saved me... These feelings reared their head again... I love you so much Oz... It is just hard." 

Ozzie pulls Fizz close. "It is okay Fizzy," Ozzie says. "I can tell why you love them, they are quite something." 

Fizz stops and looks at him. "Oz? Are you attracted to them?" Fizz asks curiously. 

"Yes, they are physically attractive, but it is more so that they saved you~ That they would never have hurt you like that, seeing them shoot your stalker~ That was kind of hot~," Ozzie says and kisses down Fizz's neck. "If you want, we could have them~ Keep them as our lovers ~" 

"We could?" Fizz asks, this was the best situation that they could get in. 

"We could, I still have to give them one of my crystals," Ozzie says. "Maybe we can even make a deal with them~ Make them ours, and ours alone~" 

Fizz grins, that would be the best of both worlds. He would have (Name) and Ozzie, both of them being the loves of his life and he would never EVER let go of (Name) again. They belong to them~ 

-Small Time Skip;  Brought to you by: Ozzie being an Evil Little Fuck-

(Name) was eating cheese and having a good time. When their phone rings, they answer it. "Hello?" They ask around a mouthful of cheese. "What do you need?" 

"(Name)!" An excited Fizz says. "Since we are friends again, I thought I could have you over for dinner. You know, just me, you, and Ozzie." 

"Okay?" (Name) draws out. "I mean I will not say no to a free meal, just is it you cooking or the lusty king? Last time I checked you burn water when cooking." 

Fizz blushes. "Yes, Ozzie will be cooking," He confirms. 

"Okay then, I won't say no to a good meal, and my daughter is out with Tex and the Queen Bee. She won't be back until Monday." (Name) says and starts to put on their shoes. "So I guess I am all yours!" 

Fizz smirks happily, Yes, (Name). You are all Mine~ "That is great, we will pick you up in a few." 

"Okie doki!" (Name) says and eats the last bit of cheese. 

They wonder what prompted this. They shrug, whatever a free meal is a free meal. Soon Ozzie and Fizz are there and (Name) gets in with them. They drove down to Lust, (Name) talked to Fizz, they could tell that he was nervous. Was it because he was on edge because of the dinner? It was his idea, not (Name's). 

They got up to the penthouse and there was a candlelit dinner. Wait what was going on? 

"Were you guys planning a romantic date before inviting me?" (Name) asks. 

"Kind of. The romantic date is for you, (Name)." Fizz says and (Name's) face goes a bright red. Oh boy! 

"Hehe, oh that is a lot!" They laugh. "What does that mean, you two want a threesome." 

Ozzie pulls out a chair for (Name) and they sit down. 

"thank you." 

"Anything for you," Ozzie says. 

Fizz pulls out a box that looks oddly enough like an engagement box. 

"We both want you, (Name)," Fizz says. "We do, really bad, but we know at this time you are bonded to Stolas, Ozzie can break that bind and then you will be free. To be with us." 

(Name) takes the box and opens it, there is a crystal to have access to the human world. "Oh... Frick." They could not even swear, this is a lot. 

They also have feelings for Stolas. 

"Stolas cannot love you like we can," Ozzie says. "He is using you for his gain, he made a contract with you, so you will have to fuck him." 

(Name) bites their lip. 

"But we," Fizz adds. "We love you so much, I always have loved you, from since we were kids. You are just the perfect most wonderful darling." 

"Fizz is right, why be with Stolas, who is not good enough for you, who does not appreciate you and does not stand by your side?" Ozzie asks, both were manipulating (Name's) emotional state. 

"I-" 

"Let us love you." fizz says and kisses them. "Let us show you how much you mean to us~" 

(Name) felt their eyes tear up and they slowly kissed back Fizz. Fuck it was always what they wanted. 

Fizz pulls away, this is it (Name) is almost their Darling. 

"So what do you say, baby?" Ozzie asks. 

"Alright." (Name) agrees it felt nice for someone to say they wanted them, and not ask for anything in return. (Name) felt loved and it made them feel good. 

(Name) made the deal and they did not know that they just swore themselves to the Sin of Lust and His Imp lover, forever! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another Chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Twelve

( Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller x F!Reader )

ORGASM DENIAL/CONTROL / LINGERIE / ROLE REVERSAL

Summary: After his kindness the other week, you think Will deserves a little treat.

Day twelve of @absurdthirst's Kinktober prompts list.

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: Mentions trying on clothes, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.4k

You were never one for shopping, everything was easier online.

A Saturday spent going shop to shop, fighting against the flocks of people doing the same with sounded like a weekend you’d rather forget, yet here you were. Your friend had dragged you out, mostly because she wanted to see you, secretly to get the gossip on what was happening with you and those guys from fight night.

Your lips were mostly sealed and what you did give her wasn’t nearly as juicy enough.

She was carrying a few bags whilst you were leaving empty handed, everything you tried on either felt weird or looked weird or both. This is why you preferred trying stuff on at home, without the unflattering mirrors, poorly lit changing rooms or the shop assistant knocking on the door to see if you were alright.

Until you caught something out of the corner of your eye.

She carried on ahead of you, only realising you’d ground to a halt when you didn’t reply.

“I haven’t seen you look at something like that since Santiago.”

“Huh?”

She chortled, “You look so cute when you’re confused.”

Standing next to each other, you gazed at the mannequin in the shop window. You never remembered a lingerie shop being here before though it gave that vibe of not just selling ridiculously pretty under garments.

“Why don’t you try it on?”

“I’ll just get it on—“

“This is not the kind of thing you order online,” she folded her arms, “trust me.”

You bring your attention back, biting the inside of your lip.

She sighed and grabbed your hand with a python like grip.

“Come one,” she hauled you towards the doors.

“Nooooo.”

You immediately gravitated towards the set you admired in the window, fingers flicking to find your size and just as you gave up hope, a shop assistant approached. She was mostly harmless and actually good at her job. When she asked what size you were looking for, you blanked, and she smiled and said she’d measure you up. Now you found yourself stood in a velvet walled changing room with matching furniture, twiddling your thumbs, waiting for her to come back with your size.

The knock made you flinched.

Opening the door, she slipped in and handed you the pieces.

“I didn’t know which bottom you’d like so I brought all three.”

“There’s three different types?”

She hummed, “You’ve got my personal favourite, the high waisted knicker. The thong which you know, always sells well and the crotchless. You wanted the garter too, right?”

You could only nod, the last option had thrown you.

Crotchless?

“Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll fix the bra straps.”

“Ok,” you say softly.

You could hear the conversation outside, your friend and the shop assistant making small talk at first - how was your day, where have you been, the usual until they started talking about you.

‘She’s not much of a shopper.’

‘Who is these days,’ the shop assistant says. ‘I much prefer online but this kind of stuff is risky, if you don’t know your size, it’s a lot of back and forth.’

‘That’s why I dragged her in here.’

‘I hope she likes it, that set will really accentuate her figure, it’ll look great on her.’

‘There’s definitely a few guys who’d love to see her in it.’

You wobble, bumping the door as you try to get a leg through the hole, too busy listening in on what they were saying.

“You ok?” Your friend queries.

“I’m fine, almost there.”

Closing your eyes, you take a few breaths before spinning on your heels, opening one eye. The image reflected had you instantly opening the other and your heart skips. You looked good, real fucking good. You exhale, pushing yourself up on the balls of your feet, imagining how you’d stand in heels. Clinging onto the plush walls, you turn to view the back and are equally as pleased.

All the boys would love this but you had one in mind.

—

You told Will you were going to freshen up about twenty minutes ago and you were surprised he hadn’t come to check on you.

The first five minutes was you, staring at the clean lines of the bag, a neat little bow sealing it shut. The next five was you gazing upon the set laid upon the black tissue it was once wrapped in, the emerald green colour rich. You spent the other ten minutes getting the damn thing on with delicate fingers, afraid that any brisk movement would ripped the mesh. When it was all on, you went to the mirror and adjusted your boobs just like the assistant showed you, it was the correct way apparently.

Back on the bed, you slipped on the stockings and hooked them into the garter before slipping on the pair of heels you hid in your weekend bag.

The nerves were starting to get to you, you wobble on your heels as you head to the mirror again. 

You didn’t get why you were so nervous, this was Will for fuck’s sake. You’re sure if you approached any of the boys in this lingerie, they’d fall to their hands and knees and worship you at your feet. Maybe that’s what it was, new territory, you were used to being the centre of attention but now, you were stepping into the spotlight.

You took a deep breath before checking yourself over one last time.

Heading to the door, you grabbed his robe from the hook and wrapped it around your frame. You step carefully, his robe gathered around your ankles as you go to find him.

He’s busying himself in the kitchen, back towards you.

You knew you could do this.

Treading carefully, you tiptoe to stop the clicking of your heel and hover behind him. You stretch your arms up, rubbing your hands before covering his eyes.

He drops the soapy dish in his hand.

“What have I told you about approaching us from behind?”

Not to do it, which hardly seemed fair because they did it all the time.

“I know, it’s jus—“

His other hand had snuck to your ass and he squeezed, a twitch in his brow as he felt the soft, thick fabric of his dressing gown.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

He gifts you another three squeezes.

You guide him away from the countertop and turned him round, still covering his eyes with your palms.

“Are they definitely closed?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

You part one set of fingers to make sure, he was never one for lying. Bringing your hands back, you read his features like always he was pokerface except for the slight curl in his lips, you’d peeked his interest.

Grabbing the tea towel, you dry his hand before taking them in his. Yours were always so velvety in comparison to his even after soaking in the water for as long as they had, he knew they were rough.

Leading the way, you tug lightly and walk him out the kitchen.

You thought you had planned this but as you turn your head, looking at the living room, you realise this isn’t going to work. You needed to sit him somewhere where he could see you in full view and where you could stand so he would see you from head to toe. It’s as if he heard your mind working.

“What are you thinking?”

“I want to sit you down but I need the space.”

“Bedroom?”

“Hmm, I wanted somewhere different.”

“How about the office?”

“You have an office?”

“Kind of,” he shrugs, “it’s where I keep all my books, there’s a nice leather chair if that’s what you’re after.”

You make a move.

You’re met with a small room, the walls ladened with books and military paraphernalia, photos that you can’t wait to have a proper look at. You escort him to the leather chair and he makes himself comfortable as you go to close the door.

He can hear the clicks on the wooden floor, feel the nervous energy.

“You ok?”

You hum.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Yeah,” you say in a sigh.

There you were stood in his robe though his eyes did fall on your shoes. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, hands hanging loosely together.

“Now you’re just teasing.”

Your head drops as you giggle, cheeks blushing. You bring your head back up and scoop your hair out of the back, shaking it out of your face.

“I know I am but,” you begin to undo the tie. “I wanted to see your face when I did this.”

Shrugging off his robe, it pools at the bottom of your feet.

You hear his breath as his eyes roam across every part of your body, those piercing blues bringing goosebumps to your skin. His tongue whips over his lips as one of his hands reaches for the back of his neck, he tips his head to one side. Leaning back, he takes another peek, forehead creasing as his eyebrows raised. 

“Fuck.”

His smile buried into his cheeks. He threw his hand to you after he rubbed his neck.

“Is this just for me?”

You bit your lip, “Yeah.”

His reaction was better than you could ever have hoped for.

The goosebumps had dispersed and left a prickly feeling that warmed your skin, the knot you felt in your belly releasing, your arousal burning in your loins.

He beckoned for you to come.

You walk with purpose, exaggerating your hips, stopping when your pointed toes scuff the chair. 

Rocking forward, Will smoothes his palms over your legs and up your ass, sweeping over your hips and waist. He extends his thumbs, brushing over your breasts, nipples growing under their mesh containment. Moving to your back, he edges you closer.

His breath teases your skin, whiskers tickling as he kisses along the band of your knickers.

You sigh, your nails scratching his scalp as the kisses intensified.

The strain in his pants was becoming unbearable, his cock stiffening underneath. With one hand, he undoes his buckle and pops the top button, pulling the zip to alleviate himself. He does nothing else, desperate to touch your skin.

He flattens his tongue and licks from one side of your body to the other.

Your juices dribble, dressing your folds.

When he offers you some relief, you climb onto his lap, knees pressed to his hips. You settle so you’re face to face and bring your lips to his, two swift kisses before you push on his mouth, drawing the air from his lungs. You catch his moan in your mouth as you slip your tongue in and dance with his.

His teeth sink into your bottom lip as he pulls back.

Cupping his hands over your breast, he thumbs at your nipple until it grows puffy. Freeing it from the delicate fabric, he takes it his mouth and suckles, tongue swiping up and down.

Your head falls back as a cry rises from your chest.

He releases it from his mouth with a pop before doing the same with the other. His fingers run in the middle of your breasts and down your stomach, over your knickers. Sliding over your mound, he expected to be greeted with more material containing you. He chuckles when your juices coat his digits.

Peeling himself away from you, he lifts his hips and yanks his pants and boxer enough to release his heavy cock.

Licking your fingertips, you catch his precum and spread it over his tip, a shiver jolting up his spine as he reclines. You line yourself up and drop your hips, taking him in your opening. Your walls pulse around his bright tip before you sink further into his lap. He gives a satisfied sigh as you take him to the hilt.

You roll your hips in the figure of eight.

“That’s it,” you coo as his head rests to the cushion.

Placing a hand on his chest and the other on his thigh, you lift yourself up before coming back down with a gasp. You revel in his every grunt, every moan as you steadily ride his cock, the wet smack as you bounce from bare skin.

You rode until your legs began to protest.

After another stroke, you collapsed onto his chest, your hand releasing his top.

He’s still inside you, cock twitching as your walls constricted around him. His movements were sluggish but he manages to bring a hand to your back. He strokes you up and down, allowing you to breath.

“Shall I help us finish?”

He looks at you, smiling softly.

You nod in agreement, sweat clinging to your hairline.

Placing his hand under your ass, you lean forward and let him lift your hips up and down. You whimper as your arms wrap tightly around his neck, your chin resting on top of his head.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll both be cumming soon.”

With the new angle, his cock nudges that sweet spot over and over and though he promises you’ll finish soon, you don’t know how much more you can take. His breath is hot against your shoulder, lips showering it with kisses. The blood pumping through your veins fast and loud, you can only just hear him whispering praises in your ear.

Then he holds you steady, tip still radiating in your walls.

You know what’s coming, your fingers bury into his shirt and your eyes snap shut.

He thrusts, shoving his cock into you sharply.

You both moan in unison before he slips out before continuing back and forth at a relentless pace. 

Even with your eyes closed, your seeing stars, that burn in your belly heightening as you let out a strangled cry. Your legs are vibrating as he pushes you to the edge and helps carry you through your orgasm. His cock is trapped in your pulsating walls and with a couple more strokes, he coated them.

Your body slack above him and he drops his hip for you to lay.

There’s shockwaves as you try to settle, his strokes on your legs not helping. You feel his heartbeat slow against your chest, his breaths less staggered as you bring your attention back to the room.

There’s a moment of blissful silence before Will speaks.

“Please tell me you’ve got more lingerie.”

[madangel19]

Mushy May Day 5: Animals

Skipping ahead to today's prompt from @forlorn-crows list which involves animals. I had the cutest idea for Mountain and Rain as soon as I saw it :D

Pairing: Mountain/Rain

Rating: Everyone

Word Count: 579

“Mountain!” Rain called out when he entered the greenhouse.

He had been looking all over for the earth ghoul for help with some chores, but he couldn’t find him anywhere, not even in the greenhouse where he often spent a lot of his time. How could he not find the much taller ghoul? He had to be somewhere. 

“Where is he?” The water ghoul grumbled, crossing his arms as he walked out of the greenhouse. 

He noticed the farm not too far away and caught the faint trace of the earth ghoul’s noticeable scent mixed in with the goats. He had to be there. 

Rain quickly made his way over to the farm where some siblings of sin were rushing around with towels and looking absolutely delighted. What was going on? 

“Oh! Are you looking for Mountain? He’s with Miss Marmalade. She just had triplets and Miss Bunny had her kids this morning. Twins!” Sister Helena chimed.

Ahh, Miss Marmalade was one of Mountain’s favorite goats. He had been talking a lot about her recently and how big she had gotten during her pregnancy. 

Rain went over to the stall where Miss Marmalade lived and saw Mountain sitting cross-legged inside. Miss Marmalade sat next to him, looking noticeably smaller and very tired. Mountain had a very small goat in his lap that was suckling from a bottle. Two more baby goats sat near Mountain, fast asleep. All three were pitch black like their mother. The earth ghoul purred, making the ground around him vibrate.

“You’re so strong like your mama, little one,” Mountain cooed, petting the goat’s head. He didn’t seem to notice Rain before the water ghoul cleared his throat. He grunted and looked back at him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Miss Marmalade finally gave birth. Her kids are amazing, Rain! Come sit,” he chimed, patting the space next to him. 

The chores needed to be done, but they could wait for a little bit. Rain opened the gate and went over to sit next to the taller ghoul. The little goat pulled away from the bottle and bleated at him, reminding Rain of a kit. 

“She said hello. Miss Bernadette, this is Rain. Rain, this is Miss Bernadette,” Mountain said, handing the bottle to Rain. The goat bleated again and moved to crawl into Rain’s lap, her little tail wagging nonstop as she looked up at him with hungry red eyes. 

“She likes you already,” Mountain chuckled.

“You sure? It could be from me holding the bottle,” Rain said, getting a better hold of the goat and letting her drink her milk.

“Nah, the other siblings tried feeding her, but she kept wiggling away until I came around. She likes you,” Mountain replied. 

“That’s good to hear,” Rain said, petting the goat. He looked over at the mother and the sleeping siblings and couldn’t help but smile. 

“They’re cute. No wonder you like it here,” he said.

“They’re good listeners and the goats love me the most,” Mountain said, petting the top of Miss Marmalade’s head. The mother goat bleated and nuzzled his hand. 

“How long before the kids start climbing on you?” Rain chuckled.

“Give it a few hours. They’ll be all over me, but I’ll be ready,” Mountain crowed, dusting off his shoulders. Rain’s smile grew as he remembered all the times newborn goats were climbing on Mountain whenever he was sitting or hunched over. He looked forward to seeing that happen again soon.

[starsfic]

Prompt:

Red Son having his hair down in public:

Excuse me?

Red Son hears a small voice and sees a little girl looking up at him in wonder.

Are you Ariel?

“Excuse me?” Red Son heard a small voice and saw a little girl looking up at him in wonder. “Are you Ariel?”

He blinked. “Uh, what?”

“Are you Ariel?” she repeated, starting to bounce on her little feet. “You look just like her with your pretty red hair!” 

Red raised his hand back and patted his loose curls. He had forgotten his hair tie before he had left the house, leaving his curls to bounce behind him. Nobody had commented on it until now, in this small noodle shop, with this cute little girl staring up at him from the next chair.

“Well, uh, I’m sorry to say this, but no,” Red bit back a whine at the sad little look on her face. “But,” He looked around. Still no sign of a parent. He knelt, hoping fate wouldn’t have a parent, irate with a stranger talking to their daughter, before beckoning her close. “I am in a club with her.”

The girl’s eyes went wide. “A club?”

“Mhm. A super special red hair club.”

Her eyes went wide and a wide smile immediately formed. “Really?!” She started to bounce. “Has she met Mulan?! My ayi is in a fencing club with her!” Red raised a brow. Huh, really?

“Excuse me?”

Red looked up and came to a pause. The man across the counter was cute, with gentle brown eyes and hair pushed back. Actually, he looked kinda like the little girl. Before he could say a word, the little girl squealed “Baba! He’s in a club with Ariel!”

Oh, this was her baba?

“Really?” The man cocked his head, seeming to study the man, before glancing at her. “How did you learn?”

“She thought I was Ariel,” Red explained, reaching up and toying with a red curl. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the man’s eyes land on the curl. “It’s cute, but she’s much prettier than me.”

There was a slam against the counter. “No, she’s not!” Heads turned to the girl. She didn’t seem to notice or care, bouncing in her spot as she grinned for Red. “You’re prettier than her. Pretty enough for Baba!” 

Uh…what?

“Huiying!” the man yelped. He reached over and gently pushed her back into her seat. “Inside voice, please! And remember what we talked about?!” He glanced at Red before leaning in. “You don’t know this man. I don’t know this man. Let’s see about getting to know him first before trying to marry me off, okay?” He tapped her on the nose before leaning back. “Yeye Tang just let me know he’s waiting outside for you.”

“Yay!” The girl scrambled down the chair and immediately ran out the door.

Now that they were alone, Red couldn’t help it. “I would love to get to know you.” The man paused and raised a brow. “I mean, I heard what you were saying to her and, uh-” This was awkward. This was in poor taste, the man was working. “I’m Red!” He held out his hand.

The man blinked before laughing. It was a sweet sound, warm and cheery and for some reason made Red think of sunshine. A callused hand clasped his. “I’m Qi Xiaotian,” the man said. “And sure. Let me check my schedule. Maybe we can go to Disney World and you can take a picture with Ariel.” He leaned in close. "Say it was a cool picture from your club."

Red chuckled, feeling heat soak through his body.

That would be fun.

[pitter-patt-art]

Ace Attorney AU August (halfway progress update!)

Okay technically it's the 16th (lol, 17th by the time this is done) so a little over halfway actually, but still I thought since I haven't had anything finished to post the past few days this would be a fun alternative!

I've been going a little nuts (affectionate) over @augustwritingchallenge's AU-gust prompts list this year so August has been a wild ride (about 40k words of one, in fact. so far.) but seeing as I will get attached to even the jokiest of AU ideas instantly, I've completed* a whopping 5 whole fics of 16, lol. Considering the shortest of those is over 3k and the longest is over 12k, I think the problem with not finishing these in a timely manner is entirely on my verbose foolish thick skull, haha, but I'm still having a blast with it.

Here is my ao3 series where I'm posting!

And a rundown / progress report / quick teaser of all the AUs including those I've yet to finish, if anyone's interested:

(*by "completed" I should note two of the already posted fics are basically assuredly going to be continued past the challenge, but let's say "completed enough to post and be on theme")

1. Canon Divergence - complete - 4.5k words ("For the Murder of Mr. Wrong" link)

Mia POV, gen. What if Dahlia succeeded in poisoning Phoenix and framed Doug Swallow instead (and then Mia defended him in court)? Basically a 3-1 rewrite. Fun Fact: I only came up with this AU because before I even remembered AU-gust existed at all, I'd come up with like 4 totally separate AUs in which I poison Phoenix in various ways With Real Consequences because it amuses me, lol, but he survives all those other ones and I eventually realized I hadn't even considered straight up killing him off yet so I figured I should try it at least once, haha.

2. Colorless - complete 1st chapter - 3.2k words ("Grey Matters" link)

Phoenix POV (for 1st ch --prob alternating after), wrightworth. "You can't see color until the first time you touch your soulmate"-soulmate AU. 1st chapter is their first meeting as kids (skipping the class trial itself). Fun Fact(s): I really love a color soulmate AU! Big fan of the "only see the color of their eyes" type of one too but uhhh on top of that working better for things that have wild anime eye colors, you could not pay me enough to try to figure out what the HELL is going on with Ace Attorney eye colors at any given time lmfao. (Also--spoilers for what i haven't written yet but hey if you're here you earned it--this IS one of my very many "teehee what if i poison Phoenix just a smidge as a treat for me" fics. NOT my fault the man ATE GLASS. That's on him.)

3. Dark Academia - complete "1st chapter" - 4.4k words ("The Spirit of the Laws of Magic" link)

Mia POV, lanamia. Magical boarding school setting featuring corruption and missing-student conspiracies and a most likely overthought system of magic with hierarchies and prejudices in societal views of academic/formulaic vs folk/innate magic. Fun Fact: I really thought for SURE i was going to skip this day entirely, lol. (foolish.) I don't think i've actually ever personally read anything "dark academia", technically--so if this doesn't read EXACTLY that way, there you go, but i did my best. I also then thought I could live with keeping this vague but I accidentally thought about it too long so... plus at least two people on top of myself at this point have expressed interest in more of this and so I have some semi-concrete Plans™ now.

4. Zombie Apocalypse - conceptualized (but not started)

Concept: probably gen and Phoenix POV, but also because I'm me and they're them, at least a little bit wrightworth even if it isn't necessarily explicit in any meaningful way bc they are Not Normal about each other lol. A little sketchy on how much of an "AU" this counts for, since it could probably be argued to be canon compliant somehow, but basically just: Universe where they make a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies-type Steel Samurai reboot movie thing (featuring, you guessed it, zombies), and Miles comes over and forces Phoenix to watch it with him just to have someone to bitch about it at, and then during that time Maya blows her way into Phoenix's apartment as well with the exact same intentions except her "day job" isn't quite as time-sensitive-strict so she's already finished watching it earlier and knows all the spoilers. Honestly a good chance Phoenix and Pearl (who came with Maya) end up hiding out in the kitchen together to let Maya and Miles rile each other up in front of the TV, but I'm never exactly sure where they'll take me once I wind them up and set them loose on the page, so who knows. I also hadn't necessarily determined the exact time frame yet but for it to make sense as a reboot-type movie/special episode/whatever it probably should be 7yg-or-later so Trucy may or may not be there as well. (That said, in my struggles to complete an actually short one-shot, I probably shouldn't even include Pearl let alone Trucy, lol.) Fun Fact: I also thought I'd skip this day bc I'm not the biggest zombie guy in the world, and to be fair, I managed to do Way Less with it than the dark academia prompt so, yippie?

5. Chess Players - incomplete (currently 3k word WIP)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Miles is a chess grandmaster and back in Japanifornia for the upcoming world cup tournament, but his greatest challenge is actually to FINALLY best Franziska in their annual who-can-get-the-best-Christmas-gift competition. Luckily, he just so happened to hear of an artist who makes bespoke chess sets, so the plan is to get a custom board made for Franziska without her finding out. The plan is not to get trapped in a weird art collective labyrinth with some model-photographer named Cindy who keeps hitting on him but also happens to be protective of the artist he's there to see because "she and her boyfriend kinda-sorta owe him big time", but this is what he gets for coming here without doing any extra research into the artist besides seeing his work and hearing only "his name is White, or, eh, something like that, you know how those artist types are" from Mr. Amano. (AU where we replace law with chess and no I don't think Phoenix could necessarily hack it in the top-world-grandmasters-level of chess tournaments HOWEVER have you considered he DID go to art school so what if he just tries selling custom chess sets until somehow that reconnects him with Miles. Is that somehow a more insane plan than studying law? Maybe. Did Manfred still shoot Gregory but now it was over fucking chess? Maybe. Idk. But I did let Greg live this time at least!) Fun Fact: we can all DEFINITIVELY blame my lovely, terrible, very wonderful friend Ben (shameless friend plug! she's an outstanding writer and has some AA fics of her own too!! @kindlystrawberry on tumblr!!) for making a total joke about "well what about au where they make chess pieces instead" while i lamented not knowing enough about chess to write an actual match and spawning this ENTIRE concept. It is her fault. 100%. She is the guilty party. (I want to finish this one VERY BADLY. Save me.)

EVIDENCE!!!!! Guilty.

6. Reality Show - incomplete (currently 700 word WIP)

Phoenix (& Franziska) POV(s), background wrightworth wedding planning going on as set up but it's also definitely just one of my many excuses to set Phoenix and Franziska up as bitchy worsties who can't admit they enjoy each other's company and will cut you down if you suggest it as such. So far I've only written the quote "set-up" section which is in Phoenix's POV, but that was SUPPOSED to be like 5 paragraphs and cut away and then lead into my actual plan for the main body, which was to be in Franz's instead, so. This is very similar to the zombie one in that it's them watching reality tv instead of being contestants on a show (I don't personally like or watch a lot of reality tv so my creative well was somewhat dry on how to make that work) and then I accidentally thought about Phoenix and Franziska watching something just to judge and tear apart the decisions of every person on it and that was too fun to not consider further, haha. Basically the plan is just they get left alone together and don't know what to do with that and end up wine-drunk and making fun of some reality dating show of some kind and Miles and Trucy come back to them losing it together over something stupid and are like "......uh. what's happening." Fun Facts: I really love the thought experiment of Franziska somehow discovering how often Phoenix's internal dialogue/reads on situations and especially people can be So Bitchy And Judgey despite his affable complexion, and her unfortunately finding his opinions to SOMETIMES be somehow slightly okay. Moderately correct, even--occasionally. I know the section she follows you-as-Phoenix around in T&T is really not long at ALL, but I adore it. There's something about it that so badly makes me want to force them into proximity more (to both their chagrin, I'm sure).

7. Farm/Ranch - complete - 12k words ("Two Little Dickey Byrdes" link)

Gumshoe POV, gumbyrde (tho i still think dickeybyrde is a funnier ship name). 5+1 things--except more like maybe 7-or-8+1 to be honest--so it's more: over 5 times Dick and Maggey sit on a wall together and 1 time they find someone else there instead. AKA: Dick runs his family's small farm (think fantasy farm like in a farming sim or maybe horse girl novel type of thing that has nothing to do with what a real farm is like lol don't worry about it) and Maggey starts working at the next farm over as the latest of her many odd jobs. Fun Fact: oh god this one got so far away from me. it was not supposed to be this long lmao. it's literally the elaborate set-up to a very silly Nursery-Rhyme-I-Didn't-Even-Know-About-Prior-To-This -based punchline!?! still, i was pleasantly surprised by how happy i was with this once it was done... two sittings and about 16 total hours later. haha).

8. Nomad - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Apollo (or possibly Klavier) POV, klapollo. Sort of Jove-Thalassa swap adjacent, but basically: AU where Jove survives the Khura'in fire but loses his memories for [contrived convince sake reasons]. (And also possibly loses some or all of his eyesight just to really go for the parallels?) Therefore: Jove and Apollo stay with Dhurke and Nahyuta and the Defiant Dragons for a time, while Jove recovers, but eventually they leave and head out on their own, just the two of them, and do the traveling musician thing, both because it's dangerous in Khura'in and Dhurke already canonically didn't want Apollo to get caught up in it and potentially get hurt to begin with and because with a functioning actual parent Apollo doesn't need to be taken in by him--and also Jove from what little we know seems like he prefers to be on the move and was already a world traveler anyhow, so even amnesiac maybe he gets a little antsy stuck in one place too long. And so like amnesiac Thalassa, Jove thusly becoming a renowned mysterious musician--and then Apollo, sweet tone deaf Apollo, becoming the sonager of all time (like a momager but...you get it) because he's not that into music but he IS into arguing for better conditions/making deals (contracts!! international legalese!! woohoo!!) with venues and promoters and stuff. And then--oops dang Lamioir still exists and now they have a meet-cute (2 electric bugaloo) (but by then it's later enough Trucy still exists because it will be a cold day in hell when I don't find a way to make her work) and they do music collabs or join up to form a group or whatever and OOPS this means now that Apollo and Jove are with Lamioir when The Gavinners / Klavier specifically meet her and get her to come to do the Guitar's Serenade concert eventually. And Apollo and Klavier ofc thusly also have a meet-cute and then talk and bond etc etc. AND THEN the au STOPS THERE and I DON'T think about how without Apollo Phoenix is totally getting convicted of Zak's murder because there's no way that trial works out as well for him with some other attorney and I also don't think about how reasonable it would then be that maybe Trucy ends up helping Valant with his work setting up the trick for the concert afterward on account of the one father in prison and the other being dead and having left behind a notarized confession clearing Valant's name of suspicion, etc. AND I DEFINITELY do not think about how i could then still so easily get everyone in one place at the concert for Turnabout Serenade and/or any possible funny Sibling (And Thalassa) Reveal that could happen i dont i dont i do not--

9. Accidental Baby Acquisition - conceptualized (not started)

Gen, possibly my weakest / least defined idea on this list, but basically: Phoenix kind of already lives this in canon, lol (insomuch as an 8yo counts as a baby) so I thought, well, how to take it a different direction, then? And I thought, I don't usually go for a Phoenix Fey kind of au because I personally really love the relationships he has with all the Feys as-is in canon and so it's not quite as funny to me as, say, a Miles Fey AU where like Misty and Gregory are married, or any of the ones in that bent, because I'm sorry but that's just SO funny (and sad, but mostly funny) any way you slice it--plus his NAME is RIGHT THERE mia-miles-maya he FITS--anyhow, that completely aside, there are just a lot of reasons I really love the platonic relationships the Feys already have with Phoenix and I don't think it NEEDS to be made specifically familial to still be so very important, y'know? BUT. That said. AU where Phoenix is idk abandoned as a baby or maybe his parents die young or something and it's like a Thing to leave babies at temples or churches or whatever, right? So like--Phoenix adopted by the Feys AU but only because the more i considered it the more i thought it would be WILD for him to literally know Maya her entire life, and it's fascinating to me to consider a Maya who ISN'T basically left all alone to her own devices (and Morgan's) and who has someone absolutely in her corner in the village the entire time even after Mia leaves (who isn't a baby when Mia leaves, love you tho Pearls), AND also and perhaps more importantly, the ships-passing-in-the-night-ness of a scene where, like: Morgan does something sketchy or whatever and Phoenix wants to keep Mia updated but for whatever reason decides to go down to the city and actually tell her in person and so he's waiting outside the courthouse or something (possibly part of or perhaps Most Of the reason he goes in person is because he knows her first courtroom trial is that day and he wants to see her + hear how it went) and when he gets there she's in a heated argument with some asshole in a fancy over-embellished jacket and once that guy leaves Phoenix is like "Sheesh, what's his problem?" You know???? And maybe he really would never even know!!!! Bc he grew up in Kurain!!!! And has no reason to care!!! About some random prosecutor who was mean to Mia!! Aaaah!!! So that, and on top of that, Diego would be there too ofc at that point, and I feel like he would ALSO be quite a funny interaction in this scenario. ("Wow, someone's popular, kitten, you have all sorts of guys waiting on a chance to talk to you, heh?" "Uh.--I'm sorry, WHAT did you just call her")

10. Enemies-to-Allies - incomplete (currently 370 word WIP)

Ema POV, faraskye. Cyberpunk AU where Lana is still under Gant's thumb and Ema, with no other way to stay close to her and getting rejected from any of the sorts of jobs she really wants to do, decides to just join the security force (or cyber police or w/e I decide to call it) and is tasked with hunting down the Yatagarasu, guerilla hacker supreme who is threatening the sanctity of the capitalist overlords. Except Ema's squad gets ambushed and she's captured and tied to a pole, and with her useless fop partner seemingly not coming to rescue her (if he even noticed her absence), she does some quick cost-benefit analysis and decides she didn't really like that job anyway and maybe there's another way she can get her sister back in her life. So she breaks free of her own handcuffs (which she definitely didn't modify into incidental ineffectiveness she's still testing for bugs) and helps fix the "Little Thief" device her captor seems to have broken despite how obviously valuable and impressive the tech is, and they eventually come to something of an agreement. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, and all that. Either Ema as the hardware-engineer one and Kay as the software-programming one as the two sides of the tech coin, or else Kay can just be like doing the physical sneaking kind of spy stuff only--or maybe she knows a little about software but not so much she's a pro the way she is with infiltration and such. Possibly toying with the idea Kay herself is just completely an android, but if not, I think she has some cybernetic cyborg things going on regardless. Possibly from or inspired by her father? I also like the idea that Gant did something maybe more drastic with regards to having dirt on Ema to get Lana to do his bidding--like maybe Ema has a whole cybernetic hand because instead of just her handprint on a leather jacket, Gant has some sicko jar with her entire hand in it in his office safe, or something. I don't know why this would be useful to him but it is certainly an image. I also find it funny if Miss Fingerprint Powder Enthusiast doesn't actually have any fingerprints of her own anymore somehow in this AU, lol.

11. Retail Worker - complete - 6.7k words ("The Bake Anything Boulangerie" link)

Apollo POV, gen. Phoenix gets a job at a bakery instead of the Borscht Bowl Club during the 7 year gap, and Apollo happens to stumble across it and ends up meeting the Wrights while he's still in high school. He becomes a regular at the bakery and is already close to them by the time "Shadi Smith's" murder comes around. And also, yes, sibling reveal right away--at least as soon as Phoenix realizes and can reveal it. As a treat. (Other reveals, though, I might put poor Apollo through on a delayed basis. Also as a treat, lmao, just not one for him.) Fun Fact: I'm being redundant bc this is also in my a/n, but, Baker Phoenix lives rent-free in my brain because Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright was in fact the very first Ace Attorney game I ever played, technically, and Maya and Phoenix semi-brainwashed in that bakery was literally one of my first impressions of them. ........followed immediately by starting a let's play of Justice for All (which i watched through the first case, after which I was like oKAY fine maybe i DO need more context here, i should probably figure out what the actual first game is, and went back to start the series properly at the beginning hahaha). What do you MEAN i have a disproportionate fascination with amnesiac Phoenix, even if I have yet to finish and publish one of my myriad AUs that utilize stupid, unrealistic, plot convenient re-temporary amnesia?? Hm???? Idk what you're talking about. Also everyone who complains about 2-1 is wrong lmao it's objectively (okay subjectively is what i'm saying yes BUT objectively) such a funny place to start without knowing broad plot strokes, it's great. I both knew so much and absolutely shit-all nothing about Maya after PLvPW and 2-1, LMAO. god.

12. Animagus Wings (Joker) - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Angel/Demon AU, except I'm playing super fast and loose with the rules on that because all my knowledge of Christian-mythos comes from firstly and unknowingly the Chronicles of Narnia and more recently and cognizantly Lucifer (Netflix) and Good Omens. I know that's probably more or less what we're all doing with this kind of AU but still, I'm not even sure I want to refer to Heaven and Hell here, I'm kinda on the fence about maybe just keeping it all very vague? I also accidentally semi-worldbuilt more than i intended incidentally on account of "But Then How-Why Names If Angelic Creatures?" Format-wise it would semi-follow gomens s1 where it's hopping through some meetings between long stretches but also a kind of pre- and post- Fall type of thing? And potentially à la Lucifer becoming, like, these are My Mortal Humans and i will be Spending Time With Them, screw you celestial duties, I'm making my own Free Will, etc. And i mean i guess Lucifer is also a crime procedural lmao maybe they still solve crimes in the end too. Fun Fact: I didn't want to do the original prompt for several reasons, and sure fuck jkr is one of them but even before I knew about her I still wasn't really the biggest hp person in the first place? So i wouldn't know/don't remember at all the way it works without having to do the specific research and i...don't want to haha. Hence. And I know the prompt seems to be using it loosely / might just be borrowing the word and not actually referencing hp specifically but tbh either way human-animal shifter things just in general I can be somewhat picky about haha. (Okay okay plus full disclosure the ONLY idea I have for this sort of thing actually ties into my day-3-dark-academia-extended-au-verse and i COULD make my life simpler by just connecting the two days but Heh who would I be if I simplified things for myself... *sigh*) All that to say: I saw "wings" on the wild card list and I thought, ooh, well that's still sort of a related concept! Let's tag that one in! So it's still kind of day 12 prompt-adjacent, if you squint.

13. Found Footage - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Video Transcript POV? Is that a thing? Possibly capped by a little Phoenix POV (but i don't want that to get too long), wrightworth. Larry's new girlfriend of the month bakes weed brownies and Larry does not realize this and swings by the Wrights' apartment to beg some kind of help off Phoenix and forgets the whole tray there somehow (because it's Larry) and they leave to deal with Larry's thing and by the time they figure the brownies out, in some twist of fate Miles and Trucy have been hanging out (last minute babysitter/adult supervision? but she's at the very very least 14 or 15 here and most likely older, and Nick clearly isn't the most strict about like uhhh supervision in general lol sooo idk. he's helping her with a project or smth. it doesn't really actually matter; he's THERE, that's the important thing.) The point I'm very clearly getting at is they accidentally get incredibly high (not dangerously so because I'm not going that far haha but also, neither of them has actually been high before, so they are Affected) before Phoenix finds out what was in the brownies and tries to warn Trucy and hurry home to like, dispose of them or at least put a warning label on them or whatever, but he is too late lol. By a lot. Definitely an underage drugs tag on this bad boy because it's definitely sometime 18-or-earlier for Trucy, let alone 21. (idk about other places but as a Californian I can tell you Japanifornia "LA" could theoretically have it legalized at 21 for anyone (like alcohol) and 18 with Dr's permission--which Trucy definitely does not have in this AU lol.) Basically, Phoenix grabs Trucy's phone to get photo evidence so he can let them never live this down (after making sure they're okay lmao), but he ofc doesn't get technology so he doesn't realize he leaves the phone still recording when Trucy asks him for something / needs his help, so the recording just keeps going and captures a lot of tomfoolery and eventually some inebriated-to-Extremely-sober Feelings-Adjacent confessions (or maybe more like allusions). Idk, this was actually a fic I thought of before August and wanted to use as an excuse to try a Weird Format for fun, but then i saw this was a prompt on the list and...well. Fun Fact: Cannabis was legalized in California on November 8, 2016 (the first election I could vote in!!! ......uh, rip. lol. but yeah babey I helped legalize weed at least!! gotta remember the positives), which means it was legal right in time for Miles' case(s) / Turnabout Goodbyes!!! Yay!! I mean, I suppose that's genuinely seriously one way to try to mitigate nightmares and manage insomnia--not that I think Miles Edgeworth would ever deign stoop so low as to use an aid to manage his severe PTSD and trauma symptoms, psshaw, who do you take him for? (Get these people some help lol. They all need so much therapy.)

14. Princes & Princesses - conceptualized (not started)

So I've been reading a lot (a LOT) of isekai and/or revenge reincarnation romance fantasy manhwas lately (like, oh, too many, hahaha. they're quite good and they're VERY popular in webcomics at the moment.) Soooo. Soft pitch: Apollo already gets slapped into so many wild backstories he's constantly trying to dodge in an effort to be just a Normal Guy, he's honestly, like, the PERFECT protagonist for one of these lmao. And tell me Kristoph doesn't make a perfect "Upstanding Duke" kind of persona, and Klavier couldn't be the "wild rake" younger brother no one expects much from, and all I'm saying is it wouldn't be that hard to contrive a reason Apollo tries to get Klavier to agree to a contract marriage the way all these stories go, lol. And also, something something, Apollo from the "real world" is an orphan/has an absent family (also like so many of these manhwa protagonists, lol) but then he gets to actually have one in his second life!! I'm such a sucker for that shit. Slightly harder pitch, and the reason I did not let myself actually start writing anything (...yet): so what if the actual plot of the "original romance novel" Apollo is familiar with from the "real world (Earth)" is actually about the slightly older generation and something something instead of admiring Phoenix as a defense attorney, it's just that he instead was Apollo's favorite "love interest" character (not, like, for himself, just the one he most liked to read about) in every way except what a blithering idiot he became when the author had him fall for the female lead--but BEFORE that, he's a cool information guild leader guy who seems like he's trying to work toward some way to improve conditions for commoners in the kingdom (but abruptly there are no more mentions of this after he gets involved with the lead, which is annoying). Aaaand... I guess what I'm saying is, Dahlia is the original female lead because she REALLY fits the whole White Lotus trope, and I'm thinking Klavier is the original male lead because A) hilarious, B) fits in with the idea there's more going on in the ACTUAL world Apollo ends up in that is written in such a way as to make things seem different in the novel (like, that Dahlia and Klavier are actually as nice as they seem and that the terrible things that happen around them are just the trials and tribulations of being main characters and not anything they're directly involved in). And Apollo, the character in the novel Apollo, is an adopted prince of Khura'in, but he's the sickly younger prince and of course not actually of the royal bloodline (and also a man, considering Khura'in is matrilineal), so Rayfa and Nahyuta are the ones the public and other nobles actually know and care about and deal with. But wait! As it so turns out, The Wright Anything Information Guild (I feel like the actual guild name CAN'T have their freaking name on it front and center lol but you get the idea) happens to know some other things that aren't really expanded on in the original novel, and might be key to preventing Apollo's death so he doesn't follow the path of the original story, and also idk maybe Apollo and Trucy are half-fae or something like that and instead of like Aw Yay Bracelet in this AU it's more of a secret Iron Shackle Tool That Will Hurt I Mean Totally-Definitely-Help Us Later (still, in a way, passed down to him by Thalassa, but more as, like... she's kind of a secret hostage and does not manage to hide pregnancy number one so Apollo's now also a secret hostage, but she manages to escape so they don't know about Trucy, only she didn't tell Apollo basically anything to "keep him as safe as possible" or w/e, and......) Well, anyway. It got away from me before I even really wrote anything, that's all.

15. Secretly Alien - unfinished (currently 2.6k WIP)

Trucy POV, gen. Apollo gets sick of very consistently always losing the card games they play at the Wright Anything Agency (usually and in the specific instance the fic starts, Bullshit/BS) and in a stroke of inspiration somehow ropes everyone into playing Among Us instead. ("What! It's still a game of trying to lie/trick everyone else--like you like!--but I actually stand a freaking chance, so we're playing this or I'm going home.") Yes. This is my Among Us AU. Hi. They play Among Us. I'm justifying this one as prime AU territory however because A) Among Us has to exist in this universe, and even more pressingly, B) I found a way to force Phoenix to have--for at least a period of time if not moving forward in perpetuity--an actual smartphone instead of a Nokia-type brick cellphone. Which even under the wild but somehow plausible considering Ace Attorney circumstances I contrived, is just automatically a complete AU lmao. Fun Fact: I am so mad this one wasn't just totally finished day-of, lol. Why I ever thought I could give myself run of an entire WAA 4-person conversation and NOT get instantly derailed is beyond me. (And I want to get the prosecutors there, too?? Someone take the characters away from me.) Anyway. No, I have not written ANY of the actual Among Us part yet. Sigh. Also I haven't personally played amogus since like, 2021? maybe? And I know (now) that it's been pretty updated since then, but, ehhh, I'm just gonna run off like, lockdown-era amogus rules and vibes, lol. If I can get to the game part.

16 - Hobby Drama - conceptualized

I'm going to go out of order this time to say: Fun Fact: I have ALWAYS wanted to write a Reddit-style fic!!! I absolutely love them and I've read some REALLY, really good ones, so I've always wanted to try my hand at it. So theoretically this is the perfect time to make that a reality and write a r/HobbyDrama subreddit fic, buuut I got stuck before starting because I'm torn on two possible routes to take it (I can easily foresee myself caving and just doing both lol). - Option 1: Steel Samurai fandom discourse, always a fun/funny thing to think about, definitely would enjoy having Maya and Miles post some stuff for that. - Option 2: courtroom law fandom discourse, because come ON, how are those galleries ALWAYS SO FULL. The little wiggling rabba-rabba onlookers have GOT to have investment in this shit. And why WOULDN'T they, honestly. I've seen those trials and I have, in fact, spent a Lot of time thinking about them, not that any posts I've made lately would reflect that in any way or anything. Like I know it's hard to tell, but if I can be invested in the Lawyers Fandom, who's to say the people in the courtrooms aren't????? And I LOVE an outsider POV fic actually, I think they're so fun. So anyway. Reddit fic. You will be mine. Just as soon as I can hone my energy

And, what the hell, since it's so late now by the time I complete this "Heh This'll Be So Quick To Throw Together" post, I'll include today's, too:

17 - Flower Shop - conceptualized (at work earlier today. lol)

AU where Daddy Hawthorne is like, 97% less shitty. And the Hawthornes have a flower shop instead of like a gemstone industry or whatever. And he takes both Dahlia and Iris with him instead of dumping one of his daughters at a fucking secluded mountain temple and seemingly forgetting about her forever. On second thought, maybe what I actually mean is he's like 999% less shitty, lmfao. Anyway, Iris POV, but Dahlia (while not a "nice" person by any stretch) is not pushed to such extremes or nearly as desperate as canon, so Valerie lives, Terry Fawles lives, Doug Swallow lives, and Dahlia gets to live a good life overall--because as much fun as I love using her as a villain, she's really such a product of the absolute worst circumstances and I really do find her interesting so I've been kind of wanting to explore her in a less cartoonishly evil light, haha. (Don't get me wrong, I do love the cartoonishly evil light too, but I like spicing things up sometimes.) Like, she does (more) normal teen rebellion things ("Look at my inappropriately older boyfriend, Dad" "I'm going to talk my way out of speeding tickets and petty shoplifting as a bid for attention" etc.) and she still totally orders Iris around and Iris still totally does whatever she asks very much to her own detriment and has to learn to break away and be her own person. Fun Fact: I have a very passionate love for Iris/Adrian Andrews. Is that. Um. Is that a ship anyone else has ever considered before? Is that just me? I'm not sure but very possibly I'll just make this a rarepair fic as a treat, for me alone, teehee. (Like... it's about the becoming the master of your own destiny it's about breaking out of codependent cycles it's about how I genuinely honestly think they'd be each other's type and have chemistry even though they've obviously never interacted lmao... idk what to tell you.)

AND THATS MY AU-GUST UPDATE POST!!!

If you made it this far, take a sprinkle of my undying affection, and may you be blessed with AU inspiration if you so desire it!! (If you do not desire it, hopefully you are not cursed with it. I do not take refunds if you are. Sorry.)

Wish me luck with completing some more fics soon!!! Unfortunately weekends are actually my least free time because I work the most and the earliest hours so I have less time and am more tired, but also on Wednesday I'm leaving for a family vacation, which will either be the BEST thing to happen in regards to AU-gust or the WORST thing lmfao. If nothing else I have 2 flights, and I actually Love writing on an airplane, so fingers crossed for it being Good. <3

EDIT: Now with part 2 for the rest of the month here!

[aquagirl1978]

Could I ask for Theo from Ikemen Vampire with “melody” if that’s okay?

-🤺

Of course - it's more than okay 🤺anon!

theo x reader | prompt: melody | word count: 838 | tags: fluff, theo pov

The sky had already darkened by the time I returned to the mansion. It was a long, hard day spent preparing for an upcoming gallery show, and all I wanted to do was find you and relax for the remainder of the evening.

I walked towards the parlor, hoping to find you or someone who knew your whereabouts, when I heard a familiar tune being played on the piano. Naturally, I had assumed it was Leonardo playing, and was surprised to run into him in the hallway.

“If you’re out here, who’s in there playing?” I asked.

Leonardo let out a hearty laugh. “That’s cara mia. She asked me to teach her how to play. It’s funny, though,…” he added, “she only wanted to learn how to play this one piece.”

Of course, I thought to myself, though I’d never admit to Leonardo the meaning behind this particular piece.

Leonardo shrugged as he searched his pockets for a cigarillo. “Oh well, I ‘spose it holds some significance to cara mia. Maybe it’s from one of those…what does she call them…moving pictures?” He lit the cigarillo in his mouth and took a long drag; the sweet smell of tobacco that I had long since equated with the genius himself soon filled the hallway. 

“Hurry, she’s almost done playing. It’s something you don’t want to miss.” Leonardo turned and waved, cigarillo in hand, a cloud of smoke billowing behind as he walked away.

I tilted my head towards the parlor, the music stirring strong memories.

It was an unseasonably warm evening, not too long after you made the decision to stay with me. After a quiet dinner out at your favorite restaurant, we decided to skip the carriage and walk home, hand in hand.

On our way, we heard music coming from an open window; you stopped me as soon as you heard it.

You had turned to me and said with a smile, “They’re playing our song. Can we stay here for a minute and listen to it?”

You knew even then that I could never say no to you.

I took you in my arms, your back resting against my chest, as we stood soaking in the sweet melodies. As the tempo of the music slowed, I pulled you closer to me, and rested my head against yours. 

I was so unbelievably happy at that moment, so happy that you had entered my life, so happy that you decided to stay by my side, that I completely lost track of time. I think you did, too. 

Reluctant to let go, I eventually withdrew my arms from your waist. I took your hand in mine, and tugged you close to me. 

“I love you,” I whispered as I brushed a kiss against your lips. I could feel your smile as you kissed me back.

“I love you, too,” you whispered to me. 

Many years have passed since that day – the memory of it likely dulled for you over time, the edges of it fading over time. But for me, that memory was still sharp and sweet, like it only happened yesterday.

I didn’t want to disturb you – at least not yet – so I stood by the doorway, quietly watching you play. Leonardo taught you well; to me, you played better than Mozart. 

When you were close to the end, I pushed away from the wall and made my way to the piano. When I drew near, you tilted your face ever so slightly, spoiling my surprise. 

My body sank onto the bench next to you; with my back to the piano, I turned my head and watched your fingers dance across the black and white keys.

I was enthralled watching you play, much like I am when I have watched Vincent paint. To witness someone create something so exquisite with just their hands was a true pleasure. 

It wasn't until you stopped playing that I realized I had been holding my breath. You cleared your throat, breaking me of my reverie.

My gaze shifted to you; in that moment, after having poured your all into playing, you looked positively radiant and rendered me speechless.

“Do you remember what you said the first time we heard this piece together?”

I smiled and felt my face warm; I’d never forget that day. “Of course I remember,” I replied, cupping your cheek in my palm. “We were walking the streets of Paris, hand in hand. We passed a theatre and heard this very song playing. It must have been the third time we had heard it play during our not so many dates. I said this must be our song now. And I told you I loved you…”

You nodded and pressed a kiss on my hand. 

“Just as I have done every time I hear this song.”

I leaned closer to you, my hand moving, cradling the back of your head as I guided your lips to meet mine. 

“I love you, hondje,” I whispered before kissing you. “I love you.”

Tagging: @redheadkittys @chaosangel767 @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome

@lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira

@crypticbibliophile @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea @randonauticrap

@judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @nightghoul381

@alydra @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @fang-and-feather @lunaaka

@ikesenwritings @natimiles @valkyyriia     @justpeachyteastea @kalims-pessimist-bestie  

@shadowylakes   @writingwhimsey   @candiedcoffeedrops @kookie-my-little-sunshine