#it gets better i swear <3333< /div>
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pumpkabutts · 2 years ago
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🤨
fellas is it brotherly love to put your bro up on a pedestal to the point where even when he does betray you, you still consider him the best person ever and devote every fiber of your being to prove to him that you can stand as his equal and try again to be his friend in some way shape or form? and you continue to praise him despite all the bad he's done and show him off to anyone that will listen, something he would do for himself if he wasn't so reserved and shy and afraid to go against everything that was instilled in him from youth??
anyways, i ship sheith. what can you really expect from me. jamikali is literally just the cute fantasy magic school au.
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missingn000 · 10 months ago
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mossy-paws · 1 month ago
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Dont you hate it when your [INSERT RELATIONSHIP STATUS OF PERSON] finds the Necronomicon and stumbles across ancient text that leads them to get possessed by a powerful demon that uses her body as a vessel and summons a powerful undead army from the pits of hell (CaLifornia) then you have to spend your whole day undoing the damage???
Like so annoying smh
Also hai mossy pls keep up the awesome silly art:3
@squiffer-salad man I just hate when that happens the damages are always awful /silly
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swiftmitsu · 8 months ago
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About that 7.5 hours of sleep? Yeah, I, uh... only got 4.5 last night-
uhm.
NO.
not enough >:(
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willowparkfanclub · 2 years ago
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it's such a testament to how phenomenal an actor nico parker is that i've been. almost genuinely grieving sarah all week??? when i KNEW she would die?? that never EVER happens with media but the way she was portrayed just made her so real and relatable. her remarks with her family and the neighbors, making breakfast, knowing where jakarta is, doing her homework, getting her dad birthday gifts, riding the bus into town, touching the sprinklers and looking up at the sunset, not liking raisin cookies, going to check on the adlers knowing she shouldn't, the way she looks at the horror around her, the way her and joel look at each other like the other is everything because to them they ARE, even down to the details of her room and the doodles on her jeans. we feel so deeply how young and ALIVE she is- how important she is to joel and tommy. to see her ripped away from life so violently, to see her ripped away from her FAMILY, was so beyond gutting that i've just been genuinely sad and thinking about what was and what could've been all damn week
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yuriyuruandyuraart · 1 year ago
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YURI. YURI
YOUR TAGS ARE KILLING ME MAN AUGH
Like I’m just sitting here getting smacked in the face over and over by your compliments on my art aughhh you can’t do this to me /pos/pos/pos
Thank you so much dude wawawa
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dude trust me when i say i legitimately feel insulted whenever i see my favorite artists get lower than 60 notes on their works like!!! you're KIDDING ME guys how can you just bypass that and not reblog it??? COWARDS<33333
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hardrockshrimp · 1 year ago
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Thinking abt janick tonight.....
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adamnsey · 2 years ago
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hello abby bestie i have a few questions
what is succession
is it good
should i watch it
are there pathetic loser characters
are there gay people
HIIII BESTIE i am so happy to answer these!!!
so at its core it's a show about the Roy family who are like a huge famous media mogul family. i think it's largely about business and capitalism and complex familial relationships and trauma and how all of these are interconnected
personally I think it's very good! in terms of writing, acting, and cinematography it is all top-notch. the one thing I will say is that it took me a while to really get into it - the first few eps I think are a bit slow and also the business jargon that they use can sometimes be a bit alienating and hard to follow. but I do think it only really gets better.
yaaaaassssss I think so fhdjskdfhk. i really recommend it to everyone <3 its a great show
YES IT IS LITERALLY THE PATHETIC LOSER CHARACTER SHOW!!!!! like everyone is so pathetic in their own way but they're all trying so hard to not be/feel pathetic and that is so fascinating and yummy to watch lololol. most pathetic characters are probably Kendall and Tom who are very much fan favourites.
it is very easy to interpret many of the characters as gay, and I also consider one of the main kids to be canonically queer. there's some more minor queer characters as well. there's a lot of very unconventional relationships/dynamics that Do Not read as straight and I also feel like sex/sexuality is a big component of the show (bc everything is sex!! except sex! which is power!) and so there's a lot of very interesting analysis that can happen there.
in short I DO RECOMMEND IT as its a very good show and also the fandom(?) culture online for it is really fun in my experience lol, there's a lot of incredible memes and art and analysis done for it so all in all its very enjoyable. and if you do end up watching it please talk to me about it!!!!!! <33333
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revvywevvy · 2 years ago
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...I was bored and was rewatching all of the scv cutscenes to see if I missed any Pyrrha frames since ik im missing a few and like. i was wondering 'wow im feeling this huge pit in my chest i wonder why' and.
i just realized why.
seeing pat/rok/los anywhere near Pyrrha when she's got so/ul ed/ge and he's got so/ul ca/li/bur is giving me anxiety. i had to pause and close the tab bc my brain still doesn't trust his bitchass even if it's the part of the story where he tries to save Pyrrha instead of killing her,,,,,,,, but like- i've never forgotten about or forgiven him for killing Pyrrha the first time before that weird ass time travel retcon that happened immediately after 😭 i'm going to beat him with a giant fucking stick
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basketobread · 1 year ago
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OOOOHHHHH MYYY GGGOOOOODDDDDDD. OH MYYY GODDDD!!!! ❤❤❤
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lunara fanart for @basketobread 💪💪💪
(+bonus doodles with my tav under the cut)
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boneblushed · 2 months ago
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And, boy, you got her
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synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.
wc 3.6K
a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it
“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”
Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”
“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”
“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”
“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”
Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.
“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”
He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.
Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.
“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”
Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”
The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”
“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”
“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”
“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”
Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”
Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”
“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”
Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”
“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”
“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”
“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”
Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”
Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”
“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”
Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”
Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.
He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”
“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”
The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”
“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”
Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”
“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”
“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.
Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”
“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”
“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”
Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”
“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”
“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”
“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.
“Fuck off, White.”
“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”
Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”
Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”
“A douchebag who got the girl.”
“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”
Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”
“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”
“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”
Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”
“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”
“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”
“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”
The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.
You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.
As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”
“Uh.” You balk. “What?”
“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”
You allow a pause to take him in.
“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”
“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”
“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”
The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”
“Explain.”
“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”
“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”
“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”
Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.
“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”
“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”
A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”
“Of course it was.”
“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”
You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”
“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”
“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”
“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”
You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”
“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”
“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.
“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”
“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”
“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”
“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”
“And absolutely in love with you.”
You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”
“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”
Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”
“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”
“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”
“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”
“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”
“It isn’t?”
“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”
“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”
“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”
“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”
“Anyway.”
“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”
Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.
You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”
“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”
“Uh huh. Love you.”
Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.
You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.
Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.
The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.
A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.
You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”
“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”
“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.
A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”
“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”
“Rafe. Why?”
“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.
You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.
Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.
Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.
“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”
“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”
“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”
Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”
Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”
“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”
“Y/N,” he placates.
“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”
Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.
“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”
“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”
Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”
You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”
“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”
You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”
Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”
By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.
You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.
They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.
It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.
These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.
Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.
“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.
“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.
You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”
Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”
“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”
“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”
You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”
“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”
“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”
“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”
Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”
You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”
“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”
You make a face. “Smooth.”
“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”
Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”
You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”
“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”
You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”
“You love me?” Noah tries.
“You fucking wish.”
“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”
“Rafe.”
“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”
You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”
“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”
“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.
“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”
You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”
“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.
“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”
Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”
And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.
“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”
Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”
Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”
“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”
Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”
“I’ll never get used to saying it.”
1K notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 10 months ago
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Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!
How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333
Lend A Helping Hand
Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening
warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not
[i]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart
• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt
• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”
• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake
• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings
• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!
• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color
• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more
• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet
• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)
• “A thousand times better, thank you,”
• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily
• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.
You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk
“Go. Away.”
“Yikes, tense much?”
Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare
“Adam!”
• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided
• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation
• He blames you for turning him into a liar
• “If you make it weird—!”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”
• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration
• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers
• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”
• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done
• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments
• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her
• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings
• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now
• Lute is diligent in all she does
• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you
• She won’t let you ruin her reputation
• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)
• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done
• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”
˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first
• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t
• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt
• You look so damn pitiful!
• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches
• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings
• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain
• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather
• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”
• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”
• Significantly less nervous when she’s done
•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner
˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone
• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about
• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore
• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding
• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”
• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”
• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings
• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar
• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?
• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble
• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly
• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe
2K notes · View notes
coryndoll · 2 months ago
Text
lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS
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authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight
anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333
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you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.
it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.
drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.
you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.
the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.
“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.
there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.
“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”
“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”
“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”
“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.
you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”
gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.
you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.
“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”
“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.
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you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.
“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.
“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”
libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”
you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”
and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.
when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.
theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.
“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”
roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.
“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.
she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”
“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.
you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.
you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.
drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”
you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.
libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.
she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.
“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.
after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”
you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”
libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”
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the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.
it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.
fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.
and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.
“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”
“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.
when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.
“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.
you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.
drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.
you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.
and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.
you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.
you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.
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after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.
there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.
you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.
“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”
“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”
“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.
“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.
“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.
and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.
you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.
you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?
you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.
you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.
the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.
you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.
drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.
“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”
you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.
he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.
“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.
he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”
he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”
you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.
he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”
you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.
“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”
he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”
there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”
what?
you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .
his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”
“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”
“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”
you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.
he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”
you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.
“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”
your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”
“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”
you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”
his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”
you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?
you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.
“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."
he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.
“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."
for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.
“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”
you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.
“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”
you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.
he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”
the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”
his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”
you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.
you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.
when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.
you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.
and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.
you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.
toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”
the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.
his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.
his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.
his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”
you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.
you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.
you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?
“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.
finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.
“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.
he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”
“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.
he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”
your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.
you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.
he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.
after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”
he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.
“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.
“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.
he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”
and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.
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@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier
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wabatle · 2 months ago
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𓆩⚝𓆪 Pet names they call you — Blue Lock boys
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𓆩⚝𓆪 — Featuring: Reo, Rin, Sae, Kaiser, Isagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Nagi, Shidou, Hiori, Kurona, Sendou, Aiku, Yukimiya
𓆩⚝𓆪 — Warnings: First time confidently writing for Shidou, Hiori, Kurona, Sendou, Aiku, Shidou is a warning himself, use of doll (Aiku's part), cringe(?)
𓆩⚝𓆪 — Contains: mostly gn!reader but some names are implied fem
𓆩⚝𓆪 — A/N: I wrote this in one sitting everyone cheered
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-ˏˋ⋆  Reo Mikage
╰┈➤Babe, baby, honey, sweetheart, love
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get out of here.”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Rin Itoshi
╰┈➤ Idiot, moron, dumbass (affectionate), occasionally babe
“I’m not kidding. Knock it off, babe.”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Sae Itoshi
╰┈➤Baby, pretty
“Good morning, pretty. What’s your plan for today?”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Michael Kaiser
╰┈➤ Meine Liebe (my love fem)/Mein Liebe (my love masc), Schatz (sweetheart), meine Lieb (my dear fem)/Mein Lieb (my dear masc)
“I’m home, Schatz! Where are you?”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Yoichi Isagi
╰┈➤Babe, baby, sweetheart
“Baby! Are you coming to my game tonight?”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Hyoma Chigiri
╰┈➤Dumbass (affectionate), babe, love
“Hurry up, babe. We’re gonna be late. Not that it matters much, anyway.”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Meguru Bachira
╰┈➤Baby, babe, pookster (in a better way than Shidou I swear…)
“Baby, I’m so happy to finally see you!”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Seishiro Nagi
╰┈➤Angel, baby
“I’m tired, angel. Let’s hurry up and go to bed.”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Ryusei Shidou
╰┈➤𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓻, pookie, snookums, baby
“I love you, 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓻!”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Yo Hiori
╰┈➤Baby, sweetheart, honey
“Are you feeling alright, honey? Let’s go home, okay?”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Ranze Kurona
╰┈➤Doesn’t use them often, but when he does, it’s baby or love
“Can I buy these matching shark plushies for us, baby?”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Shuto Sendou
╰┈➤Baby, sweetheart, honey, love
“...And they were so annoying! You get it, right, love?”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Oliver Aiku
╰┈➤Sweetheart, honey, doll, baby
“Let’s go out tonight. What do you say, doll?”
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-ˏˋ⋆ Kenyu Yukimiya
╰┈➤Sweetheart, love, baby
“You know you can always come to me for help, love.”
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𓆩⚝𓆪 — I LOVE SENDOU SO MUCH YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. <3333 AND HIORI <3333 AND YUKIMIYA <3333
𓆩⚝𓆪 — thank you for reading!
𓆩⚝𓆪 — taglist (ask 2 be added): @mariaace @meowkages @plsmarrymehioriyo @stellas-starry-stories13
𓆩⚝𓆪 — blue lock masterlist || masterlist
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luceracastro · 8 months ago
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AMIRA OMG YOU JUST KNOW WHAT I NEEDED TO READ WIFEY!!!!!!!YOU DAMN GENIUS OMG THIS IS ONE OF RHE BEST FRAN ONE SHOTS EVER !!!!!!!!!
💕💕💕💕💕💘💘💘💘💘💘💘🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
𐙚 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗.
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ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : this is literally the first smut one-shot I write for this sweet man. hope you all like it aaaa 😭💕 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : your boyfriend knows just how to treat you during your bad period cramps days. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 1.5k
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : smut. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Francisco Romero x (fem!)Reader
WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; title says it all. period sex, fingering, slight breast play, some profanity.
◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` as always, I just had to tag my wifey @luceracastro.ᐟ
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“Fuck,”
A soft grunt spurred deep from your throat. Both your hands clutched your stomach, feeling a sudden sharp pain burdening you. Trying not to wake your boyfriend, who seemed to be sleeping quite peacefully as you were cuddled up together, you turned around with your back facing him.
Despite all your best efforts, somehow, he managed to slowly wake up from his slumber with the sound of your hushed grunts and curse words, immediatly noticing that you were painfully squirming in the spot. The complaining and the squirming at the same time could only mean one thing— your period.
Gently, Fran scooted closer to you, hugging you from behind delicately as the tip of his nose nuzzled against your neck. “Estás bien, hermosa?” his lips were placed on your shoulder, pressing loving pecks as his hand slipped under your shirt, caressing your stomach. “Not really.” you replied shortly, and frankly. It felt as if someone had kicked you right in the uterus.
“Is it that time of the month, again?” in response, you hummed, desperate to try and make the pain fade away somehow. “I see.” with that simple whispered answer, his hand went further inside your shirt. Teasingly, his hand nearly touched your — now sensitive — breasts, before quickly moving downwards to your stomach, and indiscreetly slipping a few fingers under your pants.
His fingertips felt warm and comforting, Fran knew how much you loved it when he touched you just like that. Especially during this time of the month, you were particularly horny — but all that you could focus on at the time, was the dreadful pain that overwhelmed you on the first day of your period.
As his lips kept kissing your shoulder and neck, smiling slyly to himself, he muttered. “Would you like to know what I read the other day about period cramps and the ways to treat them, nena?”
“Hm? What did you read?”
“I read that orgasms help with period cramps.”
Tsk. You clicked your tongue trying to dismiss him, but all the teasing little kisses and the way he touched you wasn’t helping at all, much less the feeling of his already hardened cock poking your ass. “Don’t try to act like you don’t want me to fuck away the pain, bebé.” his arm pressed you tighter against his body while his lips continued to press small kisses on your sensitive neck, occasionally nibbling your soft spots, and you couldn’t help but rub your arse against his growing erection.
A rosy hue occupied you cheeks. While you did feel aroused, feeling your underwear grow stickier by the minute with a mix of your monthly blood and wetness, you simultaneously felt embarrassed. It would be your first time having period sex, and you didn’t want him to feel grossed out.
His hand softly moved upwards again, cupping your breast as his thumb leisurely brushed across your sensitive, hardened nipple. “Fran,” you called out for him quietly, swallowing thickly, holding back a soft moan from escaping from you at the teasing. “I’m afraid you might feel disgusted by my period.” he softly scoffed from behind of you. His hot breath hitting against your skin as he squeezed your breast made you shiver.
“A little bit of blood doesn’t scare, or disgust me. Much less if it’s your own blood.” he insisted, making you meekly smile as his hand descended towards your lower stomach, slipping his hand under both your shorts, and underwear. “Let me take care of you. You will thank me later for it, amor.”
For a few moments, you hesitated silently. You did want him to fuck you right there and distract you away from the pain, but simultaneously, you weren’t quite sure. “Pleeeeaseee?” hearing his pleading voice once again made you scoff, helplessly smiling. It was hard to say no when your boyfriend put it that way, and had already managed to arouse you easily. “Fine. Please, do fuck my pain away, my love.”
Happily, Fran got closer to your face, and placed a loving smooch on your cheek at your approval. “Thank you, preciosa.” his own content made your smile grow wider, and he didn’t waste a single second as soon as you allowed him to please you. While his body was tightly pressed against you from behind, you managed to move your leg on top of his own, giving him a bit more of access as his hand moved painfully slow to your throbbing cunt.
The second his warm fingertips softly got to your pussy and began caressing it, your breath hitched. Your reaction, and the sensation of your moisture mixed with your period blood on his fingers was enough to please him already. Even better was when you tried to rub yourself against his fingers. “So wet and needy already? It’s cute to see just how aroused I can get you in no time.” he teased in a whisper, as he nuzzled the tip of his nose against your neck.
“Shut up and just fuck me already.” you ordered in between pants, feeling his fingers playing with your sensitive clit for a brief moment, before going down and moving around your aching entrance. God, did he love to play around. “Como digas, bonita.” complying, his fingers immediatly slipped inside of you.
A soft moan immediatly spurred from your lips, while two of his fingers pumped in and out of you. A hushed fleshy sound, along your own panting filled the room. It was true — the pleasure he managed to bring you was more than enough to make you forget about the cramps.
“You feel so sweetly tight, and wet.” despite wanting to maintain gentle movements with his fingers, he couldn’t help himself — with the passing of the seconds, and the louder your grunts became, the faster his fingers thrusted inside you. The feeling of your own blood and slick coating his fingers made it easier for him to fingerfuck you, and stretch your walls. You threw your head back softly, as his teeth nibbled gently on the soft flesh of your neck, proudly smiling to himself.
“I told you, you’d enjoy it. Why make such a fuss of it, eh?” Fran whispered against your ear, feeling his hot pants against your skin. Desperately, you helped him thrust you deeper with his fingers by rolling your hips against them, and simultaneously, trying to rub your ass against his erection. “I could get used to fucking you on your period. It helps with the cramps after all, no?” you groaned in response, with your lips partly open, allowing all sounds to come deep from your throat.
The faster his fingers thrusted in and out of you, occasionally moving them inside to bring you more pleasure, the tighter you felt the knot on your stomach. The sound of your moans increased, as well as his own pants became heavier against your skin. You thanked yourself mentally for having accepted his proposal — it did help for you to forget your own dreadful cramps, and... Helped with your own horniness for him.
Your inner walls pleasantly tightened around his fingers leisurely, meaning you were about to cum at any moment, and he knew. A proud grin grew wider on his rosy lips, you were a moaning, shaking, wet mess all because of two of his fingers — he knew exactly how to get to you like nobody else.
“F–Fuck, I’m about to cum—” you managed to mutter in between your ragged breathing, feeling your own legs desperately shaking as you knew you were about to get to your own release. You looked quite pretty in that state, your boyfriend wasn’t easily going to let you go from it.
Suddenly, you whimpered, with your eyes abruptly opening, and feeling a sudden emptiness. By the time your walls were tightened and you were about to get to your orgasm, his fingers stopped filling your wet, already aching pussy. Confused, you tried to look over your shoulder to stare at him with disappointment, nearly about to beg him to continue.
“Sorry, mi amor.” noticing the disappointment, Fran leaned his face closer to your own, giving you a small smooch on your cheek. “But I’d rather have you all for me a little longer, you look so pretty moaning and whimpering for me.” as his hand remained under your shorts, he used it to gently caress your thigh.
You were desperated for your very much sought release after being overstimulated with his long fingers — but, considering the needy state you were in, you couldn’t help but meekly smile briefly, knowing that you’d have him pleasing you for longer time, maybe in all the different ways you fancied. After all, your boyfriend was there to pamper you, and make you forget your own painful period.
It didn’t take him long to notice the smile you gave him, grinning wider himself. “See? I told you that you were going to thank me for it.” he muttered, using his hand to desperately trying lower down his own shorts.
“I promise, tonight I will give you enough orgasms to help with your cramps.”
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samandcolbyownme · 1 month ago
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A blurb where reader is secretly dating Chris and uses a fake account to mess with him while he’s on a stream with Matt
Warnings: swearing, secret dating, fluff
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
You lean back against the headboard, a smile rested on your face as you have Matt and Chris’ livestream pulled up on the tv.
You finish setting up your burner twitch account with a giggle, and soon enough, crazy4chrispkreme has entered the chat.
You lay a hand over your mouth, tilting your head back as you try to control your laughter.
You let out a sigh, glancing from the tv down to your phone, Oh my god, the guy on the left is literally so hot.
You look back up at the tv, hoping for a reaction, nothing. So you type something else out, Chris!! Can I get a shoutout please!!!
And again, right after, Christopher! I love you sooo much please notice me!!!!!!!!
You bite your lip to stifle back your laughter when you see Matt lean into the screen, “What the fuck?” He laughs, reaching back to get Chris’ attention, “Do you see this?”
“See what?” Chris leans forward and Matt shakes his head, “Hold on, it went away. Just.. watch the chat.”
You give it a second, watching them both stare at the chat screen before you type out, Are you looking for my message?
Matt’s eyes go wide and he looks at Chris, “Did you see that?”
“You better not be talking about that fucking username.” Chris laughs and covers his face, “What the fuck.”
You giggle, Chris! Chris! I love you pleeaseeeee say something to me
At this point, there’s a few people telling you to chill out and to ‘calm your little fan girl ass down’, but you ignore it.
“What is up with these usernames chat.” Matt laughs, shaking his head, “They want you to say something to them.”
“I don’t..” Chris laughs, “I- just-“ he continues to laugh, “That’s actually crazy. Crazy four Chris-p kreme.”
You press your cheek into your shoulder, laughing before looking back at your phone, Ahhhh thank you I love you so much you have no idea my life has been made <3333
Chris raises his brows and leans back into the chair, “Glad I could help.”
But you don’t stop, Chris you’d be even hotter if you take your shirt off!!
And right after, come on! Don’t be shy! We all think you’re hot!
You press your hand to your mouth hard as you watch both of their reactions on the tv, “What the actual fuck..” Matt’s eyes widen and he sighs while shaking his head, “I’m going to have to agree with the other people here, you need to calm down.”
“I’m not taking my shirt off, why would- no. No.” Chris shakes his head and sighs, “What the fuck.”
Awww boooooo, you type, Why not????
User1: yoooo chill out
User2: seriously that’s so embarrassing, as a members of the sturniolo fandom, we don’t claim this bitch
User3: you have some serious issues you need to figure that out bro like seriously
You laugh, Fine, but I still think Chris is the hotter one out of the two.
Matt shakes his head and Chris crosses his arms, “I mean, I can agree to that.” He laughs and Matt rolls his eyes, “Why do you have to be weird?”
“I’m not, I’m just restating facts.” Chris laughs and you move around to get more comfortable, reading down over the chat as people try to explain to you that you can’t say that blah blah blah.
Christopher Owen, the man you are!!
God I wish I had the chance to date him, he looks like he would be a really good bf
Matt smirks, “Aw, Chris, they want a date. They think you’d be a really good boyfriend.” He looks at Chris and he smirks, “name a time and place.”
Your jaw drops as you laugh, swiping over to text Chris, name a time and place? Are you serious??
You go back to the twitch chat and watch the tv. He pulls his phone from his pocket and instantly starts to laugh, “Matt.”
Matt leans back, reading over your text and he gives Chris a look, “Uh oh.”
You type out the chat, Oh no!!! What’s going on?!
You watch as Chris taps on his screen before laying his phone face down in his lap. His text comes through and you laugh, shaking your head as you read it, You think you’re slick, huh?
You tap on it and text him back, What ever do you mean Christopher Owen, the man that you are??
You hit send and go back to twitch, the things I would let Chris do to me is astronomical, good lord
You giggle as Chris tries so hard to fight back a smirk as he reads your text. He leans forward to show Matt and his jaw drops, “Is that..”
Chris nods, “Uh huh.”
You type out in the chat, what’s going onnnnnn
Matt laughs and shakes his head, “Don’t you worry about what’s going on.”
Chris taps his screen and you sigh as you click on his text, the man I am, thinking my girlfriend is trolling me on a fake twitch account
You leave him on open and go back to twitch, typing out a message that only him and Matt will understand, why are you calling me a troll? I promise I’m a real person who just loves Chris sooooo much <3333
You lay your phone down and Chris stands up, “I’m going to grab a sweatshirt.”
Matt laughs and nods, “Alright.”
You look over at the door, watching as it opens and Chris walks in laughing, “Are you fucking serious?”
You shrug, locking your phone, “What?!”
“You’re actually the funniest fucking person ever.” He walks over and lays his body on yours, “I was so confused at first.”
You smile, pressing your lips to his as your fingers comb through his hair, “Hey, I have to have a little fun while you’re having fun.”
He laughs and peppers your face with kisses, “I love you.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, “but you don’t love my username?”
He buries his face into your neck and laughs, “How did you even come up with that?” You laugh and shrug, “May have remembered your old Snapchat username.”
“You’re ridiculous.” He smiles, tilting his head up, “But I love you.” He kisses your lips, “So much.”
“I love you.” You kiss him one last time before he stands up, “Wear the grey sweatshirt. I love you in that.”
“What so you can troll me harder?” He laughs as he pulls the grey hoodie off of the hanger, and you nod with a smile, “How’d you know?”
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Thanks for reading! I love you so much! If you want a Matt one or whoever, let me know! 🖤 catch you in the next one!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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