#listen the husbands are now matchmakers

[faebled-stories]

Max Level: Pleasure Unlocked

Le Sserafim's Miyawaki Sakura x Male reader

AN: So... I may have been a tiny bit late to class today 😅. Why, you ask? Well... I was up all night re-watching Marry My Husband (totally worth it, btw). Anyway, fast forward to class, and I casually checked my phone, and—wait for it—WHAT?! Almost 300 likes for Ms. Kim Chaewon?! You guys are seriously amazing! 💖 This story was supposed to drop tomorrow, but because I love you all so much... here’s a little treat! 😘✨

P.S. Why is this lecture soooo long? Send help! 😂

Miyawaki Sakura, the eldest member of Le Sserafim, had found a new thrill—one that didn’t involve the stage lights or concert crowds. Live streaming had pulled her into its vibrant, fast-paced world of colorful pixels and instant connection. It wasn’t just a hobby anymore; it became her escape—a digital realm where she could unwind and be herself. Streaming offered her a space where she could share her love for video games in the most authentic way possible. Her laughter would echo through the headset, filling the room with the joy she found in navigating complex game worlds and strategizing with her audience. It was a welcome reprieve from the pressures of K-pop stardom, a place where she could exist without expectation.

But as Sakura’s love for streaming grew, so did the distance between her and Y/N. Y/N cherished their quiet evenings together—the ones filled with soft conversations, playful glances, and the warmth of shared intimacy. Now, those moments seemed to slip away, replaced by the blue glow of Sakura's monitor and the sounds of gaming filling the room. He found himself feeling increasingly sidelined, the comforting presence of his girlfriend diluted by the endless stream of fan interactions and in-game distractions. Every evening, as he sat in their apartment watching her stream, Y/N felt like a shadow in her life, forgotten behind the glow of her screen.

The silence after Sakura's gaming sessions hung in the air, heavy and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the laughter that used to fill their nights. He would lie in bed, staring at the empty space beside him, wondering when their quiet, intimate nights had been swapped for late-night streams. The late-night absence became more palpable, the connection they once shared now buried beneath layers of bright pixels and fan interactions.

Frustrated and unsure of how to bridge the growing gap between them, Y/N turned to the one person who knew both of them best—Kwon Eunbi, Sakura's former leader and the matchmaker who had brought them together in the first place. Eunbi, always the voice of reason and support, listened with a thoughtful expression as Y/N poured out his concerns.

"I just don't know how to get her attention anymore," Y/N confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "She used to light up when we were together, but now it feels like I'm competing with a screen."

Eunbi, ever the sage, leaned in with a twinkle in her eye, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Well, my dear, sometimes you just need to remind her of what she's missing," she said, her tone playful yet reassuring. "There's this little shop downtown. They have... items that might help reignite that spark you're worried about. A little mystery, a little surprise—that's the key."

Y/N blushed at the suggestion, but the idea intrigued him. Maybe Eunbi was right—maybe a little spontaneity was exactly what their relationship needed. "Okay noona," Y/N said with newfound determination. "Take me there. I'll do whatever it takes."

Eunbi grinned. "That's the spirit. Trust me, after this, she'll be more than eager to spend some time away from that screen, and if it doesn't work out... you have my number" the older girl winked before giving a slightly playful slap to Y/N’s behind

As soon as Eunbi led him into the little adult shop tucked away in a quiet side street downtown, Y/N’s nerves melted into curiosity. The shop was intimate, lined with rows of items that promised to stoke passion and bring lovers closer. Eunbi was more than willing to offer her guidance, clearly enjoying herself as she pointed out various products.

"Trust me," Eunbi had said with a wink, picking up a small bullet vibrator from one of the shelves. "This one is discreet but packs a punch, It's perfect for getting things started. She won’t see it coming." Y/N’s cheeks had flushed at the thought, but the image of Sakura’s surprised reaction made her smile. It was perfect for catching his girlfriend off guard.

As they continued browsing, Y/N’s eyes landed on a sleek, curved G-spot vibrating dildo that promised deeper, more intense sensations. He couldn’t help but imagine how Sakura might respond to its use—what that extra thrill might do to rekindle the heat between them. Eunbi happily skips over to Y/N with a box that he hasn't seen before, a rabbit ear vibrator "Y/N you have to get this, I’m telling you Sakura will melt and turn to putty in your hands, I have one myself and it's pretty amazing." Y/N looked at his noona with a skeptical look. Why is she so into this, is his precious noona actually not as innocent as she portrayed to the public?

Thinking about her words he can't deny that the idea of being the one to control Sakura’s pleasure sent a surge of excitement through him. He added it to his growing selection of items.

The final addition was a delicate set of pastel pink lingerie. His girlfriend's favorite color. lace-lined and revealing, something that he knew she would love, he remembered her saying she wanted something similar to this but was always ashamed and embarrassed to buy it

Y/N picked up the set knowing how much it would make his lover feel even sexier. He could already imagine the fabric clinging to his girlfriend's skin, the look in Sakura’s eyes when she sees it. There was no doubt that tonight, he would make sure all of Sakura’s attention was focused on him.

As the duo went to the counter the current cashier was about to take a break and out comes his replacement, someone who Y/N would not have expected to work here.

"Oh Eunbi unnie welcome back Oh! and Y/N oppa, what are you doing here?" the duck looking girl squealed. To say Y/N was shocked is an understatement. His girlfriend's former members, his friends, were all so familiar with this place.

"I was showing Y/N around the store, he needed my help" Responded the eldest. "Oppa is Sakura unnie giving you a hard time?" Yena responded, causing Y/N to shrink into himself in embarrassment. 

The girl started scanning the products one by one, her curious eyes glanced back and forth from y/n and each product he bought. "I didn't think Sakura unnie would be into this, I guess she's less of a prude than I thought" At this point Y/N just wanted to leave, he slightly hid behind his noona as she started placing her own products she wanted to buy. 

"I’ll pay for it Y/N I get a discount here, just pay me back after" Y/N nodded before Eunbi tapped her card and they both left with Yena waving to them, saying that they should visit her again.

With his purchases in hand, Y/N left the shop feeling embarrassed about the whole situation but he thought about the end goal and it made him feel more confident than ever. This was his chance to break through the monotony that had settled between them.

Later that evening, back in their shared apartment, Sakura was already in the midst of her nightly streaming routine. Her set up was in the living room, per Y/N's request after waking him up way too many times. It was bathed in the soft glow of the monitor, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across her face as she engaged with her audience. Y/N, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, watched from the shadows, clutching the items he had bought earlier.

He knew exactly what to do.

Grabbing a piece of paper, Y/N quickly scribbled a note and held it up just out of view of the camera, flashing it at Sakura with a grin. The note read: "Since you're so into games, let's play one right now, this will be level one, don't make anything obvious, good luck."

Sakura blinked in confusion at first, her head tilting as she tried to make sense of the message. But when she looked up at Y/N’s playful expression a delicate smile spread across his lips, a knowing look in his eyes. Sakura then glanced down at her stream, her posture adjusting as if nothing had changed, she quickly muted her mic. “ Not now Y/N, I'm busy.” before turning it back on and saying her mic was glitching. But Y/N had spent too long planning this out, spent too much money to turn back now. 

Satisfied with the confusion, Y/N smiled back. The game was on.

Without another word, Y/N crouched and began crawling under the desk. Since her desk was longer than any normal person would normally have, It made the access to the prize easy for him as he just needed to go from the side, his movements smooth and deliberate, hidden from the camera’s view. Sakura’s attention was still on the screen, her voice cheerful as she interacted with her viewers, but Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long before his girlfriend’s focus would shift entirely. Beneath the desk, Y/N felt a rush of excitement as he prepared to introduce a new level of spontaneity into Sakura’s night.

The note had been the first step—a secret shared between them, a playful challenge that only the two of them would understand. What happened next was up to Y/N, and he was ready to make it unforgettable.

Y/N smirked as he slowly slid the small bullet vibrator out of its box, he wiped it with a wet wipe before lifting up the pink short skirt in front of him, He brought the toy up and pressed it against Sakura's panty-covered mound, watching with delight as the Japanese girl jolted slightly in her seat. Sakura tried her best to maintain focus on the video game, determinedly gripping her mouse and keyboard as she attempted to hide her reactions to the subtle vibrations. But Y/N could see right through her act - the way Sakura's thighs clenched together, the slight flush creeping across her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.

To save face Sakura quickly slapped Y/N’s hand away from her wet pussy but Y/n quickly placed it back to its home.

The little vibrator buzzed away, its vibrations transmitted through the thin fabric barrier. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off of Sakura's core, could sense her wetness growing with each passing second. Sakura squirmed almost imperceptibly, fighting the urge to spread her legs further.

Sakura's game character died with a pitiful electronic squeal, breaking the spell. She blinked hard a few times, trying to regain her composure as she struggled to stay focused on the screen. Y/N chuckled quietly, pulling the vibrator away.

Rising up from his spot on the floor under the desk, Y/N made sure that he was holding eye contact with Sakura the whole way. Sakura's eyes widened as Y/N made a show of slowly swiping his fingers on the toy before rubbing them together and slowly pulling them apart a slick line of the idols juices were connecting Y/Ns fingers showing her that even though she's against it, her body doesn't lie. Y/N’s fingers were brought to his lips, eye contact still not breaking and in an exaggerated motion he licked her fingers clean. Sakura quickly glanced away, her face burning crimson now, but she couldn't keep her eyes from peeking back at Y/N. A shaky exhale escaped her lips.

Y/N just winked before reaching for a piece of paper that read Level 2 commencing before crawling back to her side of the desk, leaving Sakura even more flustered and distracted, though trying her best to play it cool. Y/N made a mental note - Sakura was even more responsive than expected. This was going to be fun indeed...

The next level involved the G-spot vibrating dildo, escalating the intensity. There was only one small thing blocking his way, deciding to deal with it he wrapped his fingers around her panties before giving it a quick and powerful tug completely ripping them. The sound loud enough to catch Sakura off guard. Shocked, the idol’s hand instinctively reached down, her fingertips brushing her now bare, wet pussy. She inhaled sharply, her body reacting to the sudden exposure, but she didn’t dare glance away from the screen.

Y/N teased her relentlessly, his fingers circling her entrance before finally pushing the toy into her slick cunt. He moved it slowly at first, letting her adjust to the sensation, feeling her muscles tighten around the intrusion. Sakura’s hand gripped her mouse tighter, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her composure. She nearly missed a key on her keyboard, her body betraying her as Y/N expertly played with her, pulling the toy out just as she neared the edge of release.

Her breath came in shallow, uneven pants. The subtle strain in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who watched with a smirk, knowing just how close she was to losing control. Yet, he denied her the satisfaction of climax, bringing her to the edge again and again only to retreat, leaving her desperate and aching.

“Fuck,” Sakura muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she tried to focus on her stream. Her viewers, blissfully unaware of the torment unfolding beneath her desk, cheered her on in the game, oblivious to the real game being played just out of sight.

Y/N pulled the toy away once more, but this time, Sakura couldn't hold back her frustration. "Ahh, what the fuck" she whispered harshly, trying to control her reaction. She couldn’t look down to see what he was doing, not without giving herself away on camera. She tried to push through the absence, hoping Y/N would relent, but the moment stretched on.

And then, without warning, Y/N switched the vibrations onto its highest setting and plunged it back into her, the thick dildo buried deep inside her clenching cunt, the toy felt around and lived up to its name, pressing on that spot she loved.

"AHHHH!" Sakura’s cry pierced the quiet of the room, her pussy convulsing around the toy as an intense orgasm overtook her. She barely had time to mute her mic, her thighs trembling and squeezing together, her stomach contracting as wave after wave of electric pleasure crashed over her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation

Her game character spun wildly on screen, her mouse jerking out of control as her body seized up. Her viewers, concerned but unsuspecting, quickly flooded the chat with messages.

"Are you okay? What happened?" one asked.

"You just screamed like you saw a ghost, lol," commented another, oblivious to the real reason behind her outburst.

Sakura’s cheeks burned with humiliation. They had heard her, but thankfully they couldn’t know the truth—how their sweet, innocent idol was secretly being driven to the brink of madness by her boyfriend under the desk. With a shaky breath, she forced a laugh. "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought I saw a bug under the desk," she lied, her voice higher than usual, the embarrassment clear. "You know how I get when it comes to bugs!"

Her viewers, still clueless, accepted the explanation, laughing along with her as they playfully scolded her for getting so worked up over something so trivial. But Sakura’s mind was far from the stream now. The aftershocks of her orgasm still rippled through her, and she bit her lip hard, willing her body to calm down. The irony wasn’t lost on her—here she was, playing the role of their wholesome crush while secretly being ravaged by Y/N just out of sight.

Satisfied for the moment, Y/N leaned in and gave her sensitive pussy a slow, teasing lick, sending another shiver through her body. Her thighs trembled, clenching around his head as his tongue worked its magic. She didn’t want to admit how much she missed this—missed him—but the pleasure coursing through her veins made it impossible to deny. He left a final lingering kiss against her soaked lips before pulling away, leaving her panting and desperate for more.

As Y/N stood, he reached for the final toy in his collection, pulling the rabbit-ear vibrator from his bag. His fingers traced the packaging—Rabbit Ear Toy: Maximum Clitoral Stimulation—and a grin spread across his face. The playful sparkle in his eyes revealed his mischievous intent, recalling how Eunbi had enthusiastically recommended this particular device. With a small chuckle, he knew this would be the perfect grand finale to their secret, unspoken game.

Y/N scribbled a quick note—Level three, good luck—and slid it over to Sakura. Her gaze flicked to him, and their eyes met briefly. A silent exchange of both anticipation and trepidation passed between them. The tension hung thick in the air, a blend of excitement and nerves that only heightened the moment. Sakura’s cheeks flushed as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to remain focused on the game, but her attention was split, knowing what was coming next.

As Y/N shifted back into his familiar spot under the desk, his breath hitched in anticipation. It had become his little domain, a place where he could send Sakura into oblivion without her viewers being any the wiser. He carefully unwrapped the vibrator—an egg-shaped toy, compact but powerful. The soft, flexible rabbit ears promised an intensity that could tip her over the edge with just the right pressure. His hands, steady and deliberate, moved between her legs, teasing her for a moment. The toy slipped between her folds, refusing to cooperate at first, but Y/N’s persistence paid off. He finally nestled it perfectly in place, the rabbit ears snugly embracing her clit.

For a second, he paused. The anticipation in the room grew thick as Sakura shifted in her chair, her breaths shallow. The tension between them felt electric. Y/N knew what this small delay would do to her—he was prolonging the inevitable, letting her body crave the release that was just out of reach. Then, with a press of the button, the vibrator buzzed to life.

The effect was immediate. A surge of pleasure ripped through Sakura’s body, her muscles tensing as the toy began its relentless rhythm. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying desperately not to give herself away. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of heat cascading from her core, and her hands trembled as they hovered over her mouse and keyboard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her body writhing ever so slightly, desperate to remain still for the camera.

Her chat lit up with messages of encouragement. Her viewers had no clue the real battle she was fighting—the one between maintaining her composure and succumbing to the pleasure that was quickly unraveling her. The boss fight on screen grew more intense, each phase of the battle requiring her utmost focus, but her concentration wavered with every flick of the vibrator against her clit. It was nearly impossible to think, let alone execute precise game mechanics, as the rabbit ears worked her over with merciless efficiency.

Sakura whispered to herself, “Y-You’ve got this, Sakura!” Her voice was strained, too high-pitched to mask her struggle, but she plastered on a wide smile for her audience. Her hands shook violently now as they moved across the keyboard, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the game. Her pulse raced in sync with the toy, the pleasure mounting to unbearable levels.

The boss’s health bar ticked down in sync with her endurance, her every keystroke becoming sloppier, more frantic. As the final blow landed and the boss collapsed in defeat, Sakura could no longer hold back. Her body convulsed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave. A guttural shout escaped her lips as she slammed her hands down on the desk, her voice cracking with a blend of triumph and carnal release.

“YESSSS!!” she screamed, her eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the force of the orgasm that ripped through her. Her muscles clenched, and her toes curled as the vibrator continued its assault, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until she was utterly spent.

Her viewers erupted into cheers, congratulating her on the hard-earned victory. Oblivious to the real reason behind her breathlessness and the flush on her face, they celebrated her skill and persistence. The screen flashed with messages of admiration, and Sakura forced herself to sit up, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

“Whew… that was intense!” she gasped, wiping away the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her hand reached for her water glass, her fingers still trembling slightly as she took a long, much-needed drink. “Thanks for cheering me on, guys,” she added with a weak laugh, masking the exhaustion coursing through her.

As Sakura leaned back in her chair, Scrolling through other games to hopefully find a good one to end the night, Y/N, who had been patiently watching her recovery, wasn’t quite done yet. A devilish grin played on his lips as he leaned forward, his finger hovering over the vibrator’s controls. Without warning, he cranked the toy up to its highest setting.

The sudden jolt of the vibrator sent Sakura reeling. Her body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as the intensity of the stimulation threatened to unravel her all over again. Her breath hitched in her throat as her muscles tensed, gripping the arms of her chair to ground herself. Y/N’s laughter echoed softly from beneath the desk, watching her fight the new wave of pleasure with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

Sakura, the ever-composed streamer, found herself on the precipice of a new kind of experience. The powerful vibrations of the new toy sent shivers through her body, a primal force that ignited a wildfire of anticipation within her. Her body responded with a raw, undeniable intensity, the moisture building until it seeped through her folds, dripping off the chair and leaving a glistening trail on the floor. The sweet scent of candles that once permeated the room was quickly overtaken by the pungent aroma of her arousal, a testament to the burgeoning passion that consumed her.

As the pleasure reached its crescendo, a surge of instinct took over. With lightning-fast reflexes, Sakura muted her microphone and switched off her camera, craving the sanctuary of privacy for the intimate storm that was about to break. The online world faded away, and she surrendered completely to the throes of ecstasy.

The timing was impeccable. As Sakura neared her peak, Y/N, her boyfriend, seized the moment. He seamlessly combined the pleasure of the vibrator with the intimacy of his mouth, diving forward with a ravenous hunger. His tongue explored the depths of her, savoring her taste and fueling the fire that burned within her. Each flick and swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

The combined sensations were too much for her to bear, and with an animalistic moan escaped Sakura's lips, a guttural sound intertwined with a scream that seemed to rise from the very core of her being. "UGH FUCK YEEESSSS Y/N!" Her voice was a raw expression of unrestrained pleasure. She grasped his hair, her body convulsing in a wave of ecstasy. Her legs lifted and wrapped around him pulling his face impossibly close to her core, her muscles contracting and relaxing with each tremor, the old gaming chair squeaking in protest with every movement. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant hue, a visible marker of her heightened state as she rode the wave of her orgasm with unbridled abandon, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Sakura climaxed with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Y/N continued his ministrations, prolonging her orgasm until she felt every ounce of pleasure.

For Y/N, the experience was both exhilarating and intensely intimate. He couldn't see anything; his vision was blocked by Sakura's body. Each subtle movement sent shivers down his spine—her soft skin felt warm and alive against him, her thighs encasing his head in a passionate vice that was as constricting as it was pleasurable. it was just the two of them, enveloped in a cocoon of heat and desire.

This was a Sakura he rarely saw, one that lay hidden behind the carefully curated persona of her online streams. In those moments, she had shed the facade of the cheerful, bubbly entertainer and revealed a side of herself that was raw and unfiltered. It was the Sakura from before her streaming career, the girl who had always been playful and spontaneous, exuding an authentic vulnerability that left him breathless. Her laughter echoed in the confines of his mind as he realized how seldom he’d had the chance to witness this intimate version of her.

The chaos of streaming and the demands of her audience faded into the background, replaced by a potent chemistry that crackled between them. His own heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum echoing the urgency of the moment, while his breath hitched at the raw display of passion and surrender before him. Every heartbeat was a reminder of how deeply and irrevocably he craved this connection.

This moment carved a permanent mark on him, etching itself into his memory like a secret tattoo. It was a reminder of the beautiful, complex dynamics that fueled their relationship—beyond the streaming lights and scripted interactions lay a blend of affection, longing, and a hint of danger. Their souls intertwined in this rare instance, revealing as much about their hearts as it did about their desires. The very essence of their bond lay anchored in these fleeting but fervent exchanges, making each encounter a treasure and a risk he was willing to embrace.

Sakura's breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly released her hold on Y/N, her legs trembling, weak from the intense stimulation. The room seemed to amplify all her senses, the cooling sensation of sweat mingling with her skin a stark contrast to the recent heat. Her legs, barely able to support her, struggled to find their footing as she fought to regain her composure. The assistant to her pleasure, the formidable toy that had helped push her to the edge of chaotic bliss, lay on the floor, a glistening reminder of the storm that had just passed. Its surface, coated in her essence, served as a tangible testament to her unleashed passion.

Realizing that her momentary loss of control had severed her connection with her viewers, Sakura quickly attempted to regain her composure. Her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. But before she could complete the act of resuming, Y/N’s steady hand came to rest against her thigh, gently halting her fidgeting. Kneeling between her legs, his tall frame allowing him to almost come face to face with her, their eyes meeting in a moment that felt both electric and profoundly intimate.

Sakura's mind swirled with a haze of emotions, a flicker of melancholy washing over her like a soft tide. She missed these moments—the brief interludes where they could shed their roles and embrace a deeper connection, where laughter and genuine emotion melded seamlessly into something more. Each stolen glance, every shared laugh had been a thread weaving them closer, and yet, amidst the chaos of their lives, she felt those threads fraying, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

In that heavy silence, Y/N reached for her, his fingers warm as they gently cupped the back of her head. There was no need for words; his eyes spoke volumes, conveying understanding and longing in a single gaze. Then, with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine, he leaned in and sealed their lips together in a passionate kiss. The flavors of her arousal mingled with saliva—a delicious, intoxicating symphony that danced on their tongues, each movement igniting a fire deep within her core.

Sakura was momentarily consumed by the warmth of his embrace, every worry dissolving into the sweet elixir of their connection. But as the kiss lingered, her heart raced at the thought of what lay beyond this moment. Still lost in the afterglow, Sakura whimpered softly when Y/N finally pulled away, his lips brushing against hers gently as they parted. His gaze held her captive, a silent promise lingering in the space between them, but it only deepened her desire, leaving her craving more.

This was the testament to their bond—a connection that blossomed amidst the chaos of her storm, a lingering whisper of hope amid uncertainty. She knew she couldn’t let this slip through her fingers again, not when they had ventured into a territory that felt so beautifully raw and undeniably real.

But as the seasoned entertainer she was, she corrected her streaming gadget, turning her webcam back on and adjusting her microphone. Her face, still flushed from her recent exertion and her lips swollen, was now contorted into an apologetic smile as she addressed her audience, hiding the true reason behind her sudden departure by blaming it on unpredictable internet issues.

"Sorry about that, guys," she panted, her voice slightly uneven with the remnants of her peak. "We had a little technical glitch," she continued, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous hint that was not quite caught by her virtual audience.

The chat, a flurry of messages, was filled with questions and mild irritation. Her viewers were curious, their previous excitement now shifted to suspicion and a growing sense of doubt . They wondered what had caused such a sudden disruption. Yet, despite their curiosity, they respected her privacy, unwilling to push for explanations that she was not willing to give until she was ready. In their minds, the truth of her interruptions could often be their most decadent fantasies, creating an air of mystique and allure around her that kept them coming back for more. Sakura, a master of her craft, knew how to keep her audience hooked, turning even a glitch into a potential performance enhancement, as her viewers' imaginations filled in the blanks left by their sudden disconnection.

Y/N, with an air of mystery swirling about him, gracefully emerged from under the desk, his presence suddenly filling the room with an electric energy. As if appearing from the shadows, he moved with a fluidity that captivated Sakura, drawing her gaze irresistibly. From his vantage point behind the monitor, Y/N's eyes met Sakura's, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths.

His movements were deliberate, with a rhythm that matched the beating of Sakura's heart, as if he were conducting an intimate dance where only the two of them could hear the music. The fact that he planned this whole thing gave Sakura a warm feeling. The remnants of their shared passion became a declaration of love, a promise of intimacy, and a reaffirmation of their bond.

Satisfied with his thorough work, Y/N offered Sakura a look, his eyes darting back and forth from Sakura and a bag that was placed just to the side. A secretive smile playing upon his lips. It was a silent challenge, an invitation for Sakura to join him in their next adventure. Turning away, he walked calmly towards the bedroom.

As he cleaned the toys and meticulously arranged them in their new resting place, the nightstand, Y/N took the time to appreciate the small details of their shared space. The nightstand, once merely a piece of furniture with no purpose, now held a whole new meaning, a symbol of their intimate connection.

Sakura remained seated, her breath catching in her throat as Y/N disappeared into the shadows of the bedroom. The atmosphere lingered with a charged energy, the room still humming from the intensity of their shared moment. Sakura’s mind raced, replaying the image of Y/N’s mischievous smile, his teasing, deliberate movements, and the unspoken promise that hung in the air like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

For a moment, Sakura sat frozen, the temptation pulling her forward. She felt a surge of warmth radiate through her, a tug towards the bedroom where Y/N awaited, his presence as enticing as ever. The weight of their connection, unspoken but deeply understood, anchored her as she ended the stream and rose from her seat.

Sakura’s eyes fell to the bag on the floor, under the coffee table, its presence both familiar and intriguing. She had seen Y/n walk in with it  earlier but hadn’t given it much thought in the midst of her stream. Now, as the evening light dimmed into twilight and the apartment grew quieter, curiosity took over. Slowly, she bent down, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the bag as she picked it up. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a ripple of anticipation through her. 

Peeling back the wrapping, her breath caught when her eyes landed on the contents. A stunning set of lingerie lay folded neatly inside, the color immediately striking her—her favorite color. The rich, silky fabric shimmered slightly in the low light, delicate lace tracing intricate patterns along its edges. She lifted it out of the bag, feeling the cool smoothness of the material slip between her fingers. The fabric felt luxurious, softer than she imagined, and as she held it up, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Y/N had remembered.

In the whirlwind of their lives, it wasn’t often that someone paid attention to the small details, but Y/N always had a way of doing just that. Not just any lingerie, but a set that spoke to her tastes, a color that made her feel powerful, beautiful, sexy. The care and thoughtfulness behind it warmed her from the inside, the kind of warmth that settled deep, in the quiet places of the heart.

Sakura didn't waste time, a surge of excitement bubbling up inside her. Without even heading to the bathroom, she began to undress right there in the middle of the living room. Her body was sore, every muscle aching from the games “levels”, but the thrill of the moment outweighed the discomfort. She moved slowly, peeling away the layers of her clothing, and as each piece fell to the floor, she felt lighter. Her breath hitched when the cool air of the room brushed against her bare skin.

Pulling the lingerie up over her legs, she marveled at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been crafted just for her. The lace clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that made her feel both strong and undeniably feminine. She caught a glimpse of herself in the nearby mirror and paused for a moment. The reflection staring back at her was striking—she looked lovely and powerful. The fatigue that had settled into her bones seemed to dissipate, replaced by an invigorating energy, one that thrummed beneath her skin like a quiet storm ready to break.

Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the slightly ajar bedroom door, and that’s when she felt it. The pull. It was almost magnetic, an invisible force drawing her toward Y/N. There had always been something between them ever since they met, something more than words or physical attraction. It was an unspoken connection, a shared intimacy that went beyond the surface of things. Y/N had a way of turning even the smallest gestures into something profound. A simple gift of lingerie wasn’t just a gift; it was a conversation, an invitation, a reminder of the bond they shared.

Sakura’s heart raced as she stood at the threshold of the bedroom, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. From where she stood, she could see Y/N’s silhouette bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. The room itself was dim, quiet, filled with the gentle hum of the night outside. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, focused. There was a look in his gaze—one that she knew well. Mischief, affection, desire, all wrapped into one.

Her breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t the cold air or the tightness of the lingerie. It was the way Y/N looked at her. As if she were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. As if the night was theirs and theirs alone.

Without breaking eye contact, Sakura stepped inside the room, her bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound echoing in the quiet. It was as if the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in the cocoon of their own making. The air between them was thick with anticipation, with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in the sight of her standing before him in the delicate lace and silk he had chosen. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, appreciative smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes—a smoldering intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

She moved closer, the space between them shrinking with every step. Her own breathing had become shallow, her pulse quickening in response to the heat building between them. It wasn’t just about the physical desire; it was the emotional weight of everything they had shared, everything they had been through together, all condensed into this one, intimate moment.

Sakura reached the edge of the bed, standing just before him, her body illuminated by the soft, golden light. Y/N reached out, his hand gently grazing her thigh, his fingers brushing over the delicate lace. His touch was light, teasing, sending a shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, the feeling of his skin against hers.

He had given her so much today, endless pleasures each one more intense than the last. But now, as she stood before him, she knew the time had come, it was his turn. She smiled, slow and teasing, as her fingers toyed with the straps of the lingerie. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a soft whisper filled with promise.

"You’ve given me so many gifts today baby. Now it’s your turn to unwrap your present." 

She gave him multiple kisses from his neck to his cheek, ending with a needy one on his lips.

“Since you're so into games, let's play one right now,” her words mimicking those that started this whole thing.

The night had just begun, filled with endless possibilities Sakura's situation mirrored her favorite games. She had failed multiple times but knew that this was a fresh start, an extra life, With a smile she positioned herself face to face with his crotch and pulled down Y/N's pants exposing his member, she gave the tip a quick kiss and lick, before reminding him that singing was not the only thing her mouth was used for.

Miyawaki Sakura was back on level one.

[biolumien]

but thankfully, the wind...

notes: do not ask me how much research i did for this. the answer is that while wikipedia is a helpful source, i wonder if i am missing out on the real info, trenches deep in a 39 page article about fertility and marriage in the heian period...

also this will be multichapter. peace and love on planet earth!

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader reader throws hands. this is an arranged marriage fic word count: 1364

there was never any room for love in your life. you knew that much. your eventual arranged marriage—because it was never a choice, really, it was an inevitability—would always be for political reasons. 

your family wasn’t a particularly powerful one—you were the daughter of a dying clan with no male heir, so your father was desperate to find you a good match. to sell you off to the most desperate buyer, you’d say archly, glaring at him. at night, while you listened to the chirping of summer cicadas turn to fall crickets and then to the dull silence of winter, you wished that your father’s search for an appropriate marriage candidate would fail, that the matchmaker would find no one. 

eventually, however, your family would receive a marriage offer from the hoshina clan. 

the hoshina clan was a name that held great prestige—its sons were known for their swordsmanship, for a lineage of honorable and noble samurai. but recently, the name seemed to take on a more negative light—rumors of the eldest son, soichiro hoshina, running off to become a lawless ronin and forcing the second son, soshiro hoshina, to take on the mantle of heir. 

you’d watched as your father celebrated his good luck—his good luck at finding you a partner. the blight on the hoshina name aside, the prestige of a family of well-known and reputable samurai could be enough to pull your family out of its dying state. 

but your life, as far as you were concerned, was basically over. 

you wanted nothing to do with the prestige of anything. what did it matter, that the hoshina clan was of great renown? of course, you knew that you’d never marry for love—but even a caged bird dreams of the opportunity of getting to fly on its own, surely. you dreamed of a possibility of marrying for love—that you’d meet some nice man that would whisk you away to the countryside, where you could live out the rest of your life.

but you’d be forced to abandon that dream now. 

and so, while your family and the hoshina clan arranged meetings through the matchmaker, you mourned the end of your life. 

but for better or for worse, soshiro hoshina… was an interesting man. 

he was very quiet, or that’s what you thought for the most part, at least. he spoke softly, sharply towards his father, but would smile cautiously towards you—but in a way where you could tell it was a clear mask, all a part of the facade of the good son, the soon-to-be-wed husband following tradition. 

his hair was just long enough to be tied back into a small bun, and the kimono he wore was a stark black with the faintest hint of violet–the kind of dye saved only for royalty, the high nobility. his hakama was that same shade of violet,  a clear sign of wealth, in any case. 

when he deigned to look at you, you found his eyes were a bright scarlet. 

the first two meetings of your omiai were nothing much of note. soshiro was simply calm, watching you. even when you were given time alone with him, he never made any attempt to touch you, nor to speak. the first time he’d done it, you’d tried to fill the air with words, only for him to just watch you. your face flushed from embarrassment and something like anger, and you’d lifted up your sleeve to hide the wave of emotions crossing your face. 

you’d never asked to be married to this man. so why wouldn’t he speak to you? why did he have to look at you like he pitied you and was upset at this whole fraught affair?

the third meeting was always the one of most importance. it was an implicit agreement to marriage—and despite knowing there was no way your father would have let you say no to the third meeting, you faced it with a sort of irrational upset. it was like standing in front of a precipice that you couldn’t back away from—acknowledging the cliff but still being forced down it. 

this time, soshiro stood in front of you, his father absent. two katanas were sheathed at his side, their handles interwoven with fine black and golden cord. 

“my father suggested that the two of us take our time to be alone today,” soshiro says, looking at your father first, before turning to you. “shall we, then?”

“as if i could say no,” you say, your voice gentle and lilting. you remember your lessons—when you got married, you would be forced to hide your horns, so to speak—your shame and your anger, jealousy and desperation. the feelings that were utterly unbecoming for you—or so your father and mother would say. 

you guide soshiro through the halls of your home, guiding him towards the room your father had set aside for the omiai—it was beautiful, ornate, delicately furnished, of course, with a balcony leading out to a beautiful garden. 

as you folded your legs to sit down, soshiro remained standing.  

“i suppose it might shock you,” soshiro says. soshiro’s voice was soft. gentle. “the marriage offer, and the suddenness of it.” 

his eyes flit to the beautiful garden outside. you know the truth of it—it’s beautiful, but it’s a gilded thing, hiding the rot and abandonment underneath. your family’s legacy in a nutshell, you think bitterly. a collection of power plays and alliances in a desperate attempt to curry favor, to maintain the idea that there was still something good here. as if any of this was worth saving. 

“it doesn’t shock me at all,” you say, trying to keep the bitterness from rising in your voice. “we all have roles we must play. and mine was always destined to be this.” 

“i never wanted to be married,” soshiro says. “the role of a faithful husband and proper heir was always more emphasized for my brother.” 

you laugh archly, delicately, raising yourself to your feet. 

from within a pocket in your kimono’s sleeve, you unsheath a beautiful and ornate knife. the gift had been from the hoshina clan—when your father had opened the gift, he’d sounded extremely honored to have received it— something about the knife representing the hoshina clan’s hopes that you would bear for them a son that might become a sword prodigy as well. 

as you raise the knife to soshiro’s throat, you simply smile. you think it might be an expression unbecoming of a woman of your station—the soon-to-be bride of a samurai. soshiro’s eyes simply watch yours. he doesn’t even shake, his hands not even moving to the katana sheathed at his side. somehow, that irritates you. does he think so little of you that he wouldn’t even raise his sword against you? 

“i truly do apologize,” you murmur, venom in your voice. “it must be such an inconvenience for you, huh? to be married to the daughter of a dying clan, as the second, disgraced and unwanted son.” you press the knife further—not enough to draw blood, but the threat of it, you hoped, conveyed enough. 

“i didn’t have a say in any of this, though,” you say. “when your family’s offer came, all i was told was how honored i should be that the hoshina clan picked me. that my family could’ve picked any other clan, a worse and older samurai that would’ve wanted me for different reasons.” 

soshiro’s gaze fixates on the dagger pointed at his neck, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

you drop the dagger on the ground.

the blade slices into the tatami mats, embedding itself there. 

“but of course. i will sympathize with you, for solidarity’s sake. we’re both doing things we’d rather not be doing.”

you walk past him, moving for the door. 

you raise your hand, touching the corner of the folding screen. you try not to think about how it would feel to punch a hole through it.

“i’ll see you for the betrothal ceremony,” you say. you turn to him, and you think you must be the picture-perfect appearance of a vengeful, resentful spirit. “but don’t you dare ever sympathize with me again.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Matchmaking Harringtons 1

After a nice, hearty breakfast the Harrington family packed into the car and drove off to the mall for some shopping. They didn't have any set summer plans yet but that could always change. In fact, Steve's parents were formulating some schemes while he busied himself looking through a rack of shorts.

"He could always meet people on a cruise", Diane suggested.

"True, but Steve would need his own suite", Jonas said.

"Well we would've given him one anyway."

"What about a trip to Paris? The most romantic city in the world."

"And get his heart broken by one of those flighty Europeans? I think not", Diane vetoed.

Jonas shrugged. "It's a summer romance."

"There's a difference between a summer romance and a summer fling."

"....There is?"

"And besides, didn't we say we wanted him to get serious with someone?"

"True. A nice fella to settle down with", Jonas said, almost with a dreamy sigh as he thought about his son NOT being in the rumor mill for once.

"I didn't mean that serious", Diane said.

"Well all of this means nothing if we can't find anyone."

"Are you guys still talking about my love life? Which I remind you is none of your business?", Steve asked, chosen shorts in hand.

"Actually, we were talking about our love life", Jonas said before pulling his wife close and kissing her cheek.

It got the desired reaction from their son, a groan as he averted his eyes. After getting a couple of things to spruce up their wardrobe, Steve thought he could break free, but they truly planned to make a day of the trip.

His mom wanted some new sunglasses and his dad spent an inhuman amount of time searching for a new wallet. When he was younger, his parents rewarded his patience with an ice cream cone or something to that effect.

Now that he was older, he preferred other things. But his folks still knew his tells well, so it only took him glancing at the music store before Diane was leading them towards it.

"If we take a road trip, we need something to listen to. Pick something good."

She said this to both her husband and son, but Steve was the one moving, slowly towards a standee in the store.

"Holy...I can't believe it!"

"You like this guy?", Diane asked. The standee was of a man, with what must be their latest music in cassette form.

Steve looked at her like she was living under a rock. "Mom, you don't just 'like' Bon Jovi you...This", he picked up one of the cassette tapes, "Is something to be treasured."

"So you really like him."

"Not just him!", Steve said quickly, his face getting a little pink. "It's a whole band not just one guy."

While Steve was talking to his mother about what was apparently a well-liked music group, Jonas was having a moment of enlightenment. Because he saw the standee and then he saw the cashier. It was like the two of them were cut from the same cloth. Like they had the same mold.

Jonas wasn't crazy about the long hair and ripped jeans, but at least the t-shirt with the store's logo was clean. And he was wearing a nametag too. That showed some level of professionalism. He spent probably a little too long looking at him because the guy looked up as if he could feel eyes on him.

Jonas tried to meet his wife's gaze and bless her, she met his eyes right away. He sort of gave a nod towards the cashier and she looked, her lips widening into a smile as she regarded both the flesh and blood man and the one made out of cardboard. They were both thinking the same thing.

He's perfect.

Moving in sync, Diane kept Steve busy looking at other musical selections while Jonas stepped up to the counter.

"Sooo", Jonas started.

"Sooo, you ready to check out?", the cashier, Eddie said.

"I'm not actually purchasing just yet. But speaking of checking out...", Jonas turned slightly and to turn the attention to his son. "What do you think of him?"

"Umm..."

"He's a handsome fella, right?"

"Iiiis this entrapment?"

"Oh! Oh god no, don't worry, I'm his father."

"That doesn't make this any less awkward", Eddie said.

"Let me explain. My son...We want him to find someone special. And my wife and I think you might be a favorable suitor."

Eddie looked to Steve again, checking him out just a little. "And he's uh, you know, open to being courted? By someone like me?"

"Pretty open", Jonas nodded, keeping his voice low so their conversation remained as private as it could be in such a public place.

Eddie's hands were braced against the counter as he tilted his head and looked at Steve once again and Jonas could tell when someone was interested, even if they played for the other team.

"What the hell, I'll go for it."

"Perfect." Jonas beamed and moved away from the register.

After pretending to peruse for a bit more, Jonas sent Steve with some cash to buy the music they'd all picked out. He put an arm around his wife as they watched him approach Eddie.

"Well? Do I know how to pick 'em or what?"

"You got lucky", Diane said, annoyed but fond. "So, what's he like?"

"....I don't know."

"Jonas!", Diane hissed in a whisper and smacked his shoulder. "You sent our son to go flirt with a stranger and you don't even know what kind of man he is?"

"He looks like Steve's type. And he seemed nice. Has a stable job-"

"You're not a fan of the hair, are you?", Diane clocked her husband.

"It's a little lengthy. Not quite marriage material. But maybe he'll cut it before proposing."

"Who's talking about marriage?"

Jonas gave her a look. "He's a man now. And we said he needs to get serious."

"You'd let your son marry a bad boy?"

"You did", Jonas grinned.

Diane kissed his cheek. "You were barely a miscreant. And you mellowed out in your old age."

Jonas was about to say something back when Steve returned to them, music bought and bagged up.

"So uh, that cashier was somethin' huh?", Jonas said.

"What? Yeah, I guess."

While Steve was walking out of the store, Diane and Jonas shared a worried look. It had looked like he was having a fine talk with Eddie but maybe they had been mistaken. But even if they had miscalculated, they could still course correct.

Part 3

Tag Team

@tartarusknight

[vamprin]

Hey I'm very sure someone has said this before, this cannot be a New Idea, but. The new season got me thinking. What if each winner had to design the next games?

Like obviously Grian has his whole thing going on, but. what if Scott was the matchmaker for Double Life? What if Pearl was the time master for Limited Life? What if Martyn was the secret keeper for Secret Life? And, if you count Real Life, Scar was the puppeteer, and now Cleo's the Joker? Prankster? Whatever for Wild Life

It all kinda feels like it fits with their personalities and storylines in some way, too.

Like, of course Scott would want to play matchmaker and have a cute little love game, especially after losing his husband in Third Life. And of course he would partner himself with one of his teammates from his winning season. And when she abandoned him for the entire first session, of course, he felt betrayed and like he made the wrong choice, and turned to his other ally from his winning season

And of course Martyn, the Listener, would share whispered secrets with the players. Of course, the one known for betrayals would design a game seemingly specifically to breed paranoia and mistrust and to cause misunderandings

Of course Cleo, winner of the shortest game, who only got one session, would design a game that changes every session. One known for revelling in chaos would, of course, seek to create it

Not sure exactly why Pearl or Scar designed their games the way they did but I feel like it's on the tip of my tongue. There is definitely something there, I can feel it. I'll find it

[violetmuses]

Terry Richmond + Female Reader ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Rebel Ridge” Film Universe

Character: Terry Richmond

Main Storyline: Your “best friend” offers some news.

@episodes-ff @becauseimswagman1 @helloncrocs @diaries-of-me @liquorlaughslove @babybratzmaraj @cloveroctobers 🏷

This Idea 📞

====

2024

Blocking time off from work, you noticed that your cell phone started ringing out of nowhere.

Officer Jessica Sims from the Shelby Springs Police Department called.

“Jess?” Picking up this afternoon, you definitely responded.

“Girl! I'm so sorry for not reaching out, but guess what?” J's Southern accent revealed itself.

“Don't worry.” You're fully aware that the rural precinct struggled now. “What happened?”

“Think I found your husband.” Despite that police station keeping vintage technology, you noticed Jessica's humor loud and clear.

“Oh, God!” You nearly laughed out loud. “What are you talking about?”

“I helped out this man earlier and…” Jessica wouldn't go on.

“Spit it out, J!” You kept listening to her no matter what.

“I'm working, but we don't have reception outdoors.” Jessica cleared her throat for a moment. “He's fine.”

“Don't play matchmaker again.” You quickly rolled both eyes.

“Listen: Light eyes, in shape with service tattoos, and acts respectful.” Jessica detailed this man.

“Sounds too good to be true.” For once, you don't believe her.

“Visit tomorrow. He's still in town. Bye!” Jessica dropped the call before you could say anything else.

Here we go. You thought.

*****

Uniformed once more, Jessica traded this brief smile when you entered the department.

“I'm here. What's going on?” You spoke quietly en route to her desk.

“I'll explain everything.” Sims then faced your direction.

Just before you could sit down and learn gossip, the door opened again.

Leaving her desk behind, Jessica held your wrist and you both hid near one corner, watching whoever arrived.

“What's wrong?” Your voice immediately whispered to Jess.

“That's him!” As Jessica pointed upfront, her accent pulled all over again.

Uh-oh. This time around, you finally realized what Sims meant.

Remarkable eyes noticed the building and service tattoos inked along his muscular frame.

This morning, the handsome individual paired another tight shirt with jeans and sneakers.

“Go back to work. We'll talk soon.” You prompted Jessica to speak with this man.

“All right. Pardon me…” Jessica excused herself from your side and sat down, addressing the man.

******

“Who was that?” When Officer Jessica Sims found her longtime desk this morning, veteran Terry Richmond chuckled through his deep tone.

“My friend…” Jessica would pull this vague response.

“I could use some good news at this point.” Terry encouraged Jessica. “What were y'all talking about?”

“Nothing.” Jess shrugged while beginning to work as usual. “How are you holding up with the case?”

“No better than before.” Richmond lost bail money for his cousin during an altercation with law enforcement. “Know any lawyers if I can't reach out on Monday?”

“Attorneys pool from the local courthouse, but workloads get swamped over there.” Jessica declined.

“Fair enough, but you didn't answer my other question.” Terry arched his brow.

“Which question?” Jessica asked.

“What were y'all talking about?” Catching Sims red-handed, Terry's smile offered brightness.

“Should I tell the truth?” Jessica spoke up for many reasons.

“I don't appreciate falsehoods.” Terry crossed both arms.

“You.” Jessica stopped playing around and headed out for lunch. “Good luck with your case.”

Right when Officer Sims walked away, Terry glanced down and noticed a sticky note waiting on her desk.

Jessica had discreetly written your phone number on paper.

******

“Sorry.” Terry apologized when you first met him up close. Drama flew all over the police station now.

“Everyone hopes for better circumstances around here.” You picked up Richmond and started driving away from this hospital.

On the other hand, medics helped legal assistant Summer McBride for various reasons.

“Sims told me about you.” Terry changed the subject.

“Surprised you didn't call me first.” You know that Jessica slipped your phone number by this man.

“Chief got in the way.” Richmond almost laughed and chided Sandy Burne.

“Where should we go since you're free?” You learned that Terry confirmed this settlement for this case, especially with his cousin Mike gone.

“Anywhere you want.” Terry grinned toward you and watched the city limits disappear.

[agendabymooner]

about names: the wingman of maranello || cl16 scenario (2)

dad!charles leclerc x mom!ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENSION OF OF LONG LINES AND NAMES AND THE LECLERC DAYCARE

PART TWO OF ABOUT NAMES SCENARIO SERIES

Summary: The Leclerc boys and their names go hand in hand. OR times when Charles and his wife Aimee had to explain that their children’s names are meaningful. 

Scenario summary: With his brothers coming down to sickness, Jules Leclerc travelled to Italy with his father and Uncle Arthur prior to his next karting event before them as he learned more about the ‘Wingman of Maranello’ — his namesake Jules Bianchi.

Content warning: FLUFF!!!!! What is beta reading we write with no sense of proper grammar or transitions, kids' sickness, heavily mentions Jules Bianchi (+ Jules being a good sport and matchmaker), feel-good vibes, OC (Teague; OFC's relative), Uncle Arthur Leclerc is quite unattentive, possible use of explicit language, poorly translated French and Italian(?)

Note: I have two papers due in the next two weeks lmao. Enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

Charles and Aimee always thought that if it hadn’t been for their jobs, their kids wouldn’t have the chance of catching a case of stomach flu from countless germs in their school. 

They were meant to travel to Italy a week before the eldest Leclerc twins’ karting tournament occurring at the track in Maranello — but it seemed like PJ Leclerc’s class had another plan in mind. Now, two days after his last class of the week, he and his brothers Hervé, Anthoine and Alain (age two) were sulking at home. 

They weren’t allowed to travel to Italy until they felt better — after all, the parents didn’t want to be running around with kids who look sickly and would probably throw up every other minute. 

Hervé, out of the four boys, took that information to heart though. He was supposed to be with his twin brother as he, too, was going to compete in the karting event — with Arthur acting as his coach. He was excited to travel with his Da and Jules, but he started showing signs of a weak stomach. 

Aimee had promised that if he got better before the race they’d be able to travel to where Charles and Jules were. It was just a translation to, “Listen to Maman and drink your tea, eat your soup and take your medicine” but they’d decided to put it in a nicer way to avoid dealing with a stubborn seven year old. 

But as Jules placed his bag down after packing up, Hervé’s scowl turned light. His face was pale, but his face showed a lot about how he felt about his twin leaving.

Neither of the parents were paying attention to the two though. Arthur was somewhere in the house, saying goodbye to his younger nephews PJ and the twins. 

“Mon cœur,” Charles started, making Aimee hum as she washed the soup bowls. There was no right time to ask his question especially if he asked his wife this but it was a shot worth taking. “Since it’s just Artie, J and I heading there for the week I’m thinking—“

“Uh oh, that’s a bad sign,” Aimee joked, now rinsing the dishes. Charles chuckled and rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter next to the sink and his wife. He proceeded with his suggestion.

“What if we took the Pista to Maranello instead?” 

It was like his world stopped. Quite literally. 

Turning off the tap, Aimee’s grin faded as she scowled heavily in the direction of her husband. Charles’s usually widened eyes shrunk small as Aimee continued to bore her eyes into his pair. 

It was a bad idea to bring up his sports car overall.

With a scoff, she then said, “I want you to say those words slowly and understand what you just said.”

“Okay…” He nodded.

“Then I want you to think about how stupid that sounds,” Aimee smiled grimly. Yikes. He was a footstep away from being banished from his own bedroom. 

“Okay,” he said regardless.

“Don’t be stupid,” Aimee warned him, “you know that the Pista isn’t for the kids.” 

“I know,” Charles told her, his voice now hitting an octave as he defended, “to be fair, I wouldn’t put the kids in your McLaren either.”

“Darling,” Aimee laughed humourlessly, “we were thinking of two different things; I thought that they shouldn’t be allowed to ride it because it’s dangerous and you said that it was a McLaren not a Ferrari. Do you get what I’m saying?” 

“Right, alright,” Charles said with a shrug, “it was just an idea.”

“An idea that isn’t even worth looking at,” Aimee shook her head, “take the Aston or something— just don’t take any of the two seater ones. Do not ever let Jules sit on Arthur’s lap on a two-seater— he has to have a seat belt, Charles. If I find out that you took either of the Pista or McLaren I will come after your head— and you’re my husband. But I won’t hesitate to be a goddamn Black Widow if—“

“Okay, geez,” Charles interrupted with a roll of his eyes, “don’t need to threaten me. Still your husband, mon cœur.”

“Not going to be anymore if you do what you just said,” Aimee gave him a smile. It was a rather threatening one, and Charles should do anything but contest what he was told. 

Meanwhile Jules stood there and awkwardly patted his brother’s head as he said, “Tu te rendras à la course, Herb.” You’ll make it to the race, Herb.

Hervé grumbled and continued to sulk, “I hope so. Tia said that Louis is going to be there. And je n'aime pas perdre contre Louis.” I don’t like to lose to Louis. 

“Eh,” Jules shrugged nonchalantly, “you know what Maman said once? Uh… don’t take it personal? Is that what she said?” 

Hervé nodded as his twin brother continued, “Louis me taquine aussi. Je m'en fiche parce que maman a dit que je ne devrais pas me soucier des gens qui se moquent de moi. Cela m'empêche seulement d'aller plus vite dans la course.” Louis teases me too. I don’t care much because Maman said I shouldn’t mind people who make fun of me. It only stops me from going faster in the race. 

Despite being a twin, one of the things that differed Jules from Hervé was his level headed trait. It wasn’t as if he never showed any form of emotion to anything worth reacting to, but he seemed to reason more than Hervé. 

Everyone around them was quick to notice this and easily pointed out that he took this rational approach from Aimee, while Hervé got his sensitivity from Charles.

Still, Jules approached things differently than his twin — and his attempt to convince Hervé to see the things he’s seeing was something that most school aged children wouldn’t do. 

“So,” Jules told Hervé, “make it to the race not because of him. Remember! Auntie Vie raced for fun! Not because she wants to fight Uncle Max!” 

“Hm,” Hervé nodded, but kept his head down nonetheless. The eldest Leclerc boy looked up and murmured, “My stomach still hurts, J.” 

“Ah, I’ll tell Maman,” Jules nodded, “why are you up if your stomach hurts anyway?” 

“Alors je peux demander à Maman si je peux venir avec vous les gars,” so I can ask Maman if I can go with you guys. Hervé grumbled, tucking his legs in his hoodie as he groaned. “Ugh.”

A four hour drive to their accommodation in Maranello and a quick trip to the Ferrari headquarters after Charles, Arthur and Jules Leclerc were found in Charles’s in-site office. Or rather, Charles was somewhere in the facility having a meeting with the PR team and Carlos while his son and brother were in his office. 

Jules kept rolling over the chair from the desk to his Uncle Arthur, growing bored of the lack of things to do inside his father’s office. Arthur was just sitting there, his eyes hovering over his phone as he continued to browse through his twitter. 

“Da should have just left me with Maman,” Jules sighed, his head slumped against Charles’s desk.

Arthur hummed, not paying full attention towards the boy as Jules sighed in annoyance. 

Arthur wasn’t paying attention to him and Jules decided to mess with him a little, “Da could just drop me off the street and let me race by myself.” 

Nothing but an utter “Mhm” escaped Arthur’s mouth. 

“I’m bored, Uncle Art.”

Still nada.

“Herb said that he should have had Auntie Vie or Uncle Max coach him instead of you.” 

It was as if Arthur got a whiplash as his mouth gaped open at the boy’s comment. “Jules, is that true?” 

Jules shrugged, “No.”

“Then why say that if it’s not true,” Arthur exclaimed and heaved a sigh dramatically, “you scared me.”

“Because I’m booooored~” Jules whined, spinning himself while he sat on the chair of his father’s office. “Da left me here with nothing!” 

“Tell you what,” Arthur started, “why don’t we take a look around the floor and see if you can find the LaFerrari car to ride in? I’m sure they’d be more than willing to let you borrow it and drive around the office.” 

“Fine~” Jules hopped off the seat, not even bothering to wait for his uncle as he ran out of the office. “Race you to Da!”

“W- Oi! Jules Lorenzo Pascal- agh, wrong- Leclerc!” Arthur grunted before he stood up and ran after the boy. “You lots have a lot of names to even call you by them- Jules! Come back! Charles has a meeting!”

The Ferrari headquarters in Maranello was, no doubt, a place that held a lot of memories for the Leclerc family. Charles’ name was engraved in the wall of fame and Aimee’s family was strongly connected to the Ferraris. Their connections to the team — one that became their family — led them to what they had now. 

Everyone inside the headquarters were fond of the Leclerc boys and Jules was no exception.

For an hour, he’d been going around the office saying hi to everyone and asking about their day — in Italian, as well, to impress them with his ability to speak more than two languages. Then he went around asking about the LaFerrari that his Uncle Arthur mentioned earlier. 

Jules gladly toured the museum with his uncle rather than finding the car he’d asked about, his eyes glimmering at the sight of Niki Lauda’s car and even Enzo Ferrari’s. When they got to Michael Schumacher’s car, however, Jules nearly jumped up and down in excitement. 

His loud excited voice caught the attention of other onlookers in the museum. It was rather funny that he was so excited, because by the time people had approached them the excitement in his features had infected the Ferrari fans as they asked Arthur for photos. 

“Oh, I’ll take the photo!” Jules offered in excitement. 

“Jules no you have to get in the picture,” Arthur kept an arm around the boy and said, “how will people know that there are two handsome Leclerc men roaming around Maranello if you’re out of the picture?” 

And find out, they did. It wasn’t even an hour after when the fans posted their photos on Twitter and became a hit tweet because of the Leclerc boy. What was funnier aside from the caption “I met Jules Leclerc with his relative today” was the result that came with it. 

Charles looked quite frazzled trying to find his kid and when the fans saw the driver they nearly freaked out. Jules merely waved at his father and said, “They said they want some pictures, Da!”

Charles sighed and smiled at the fans lightly, his eyes finding Arthur’s as he warned his brother quietly about letting Jules in the pictures.

Jules was still a child, and taking photos of him without the knowledge of either Charles or Aimee was trouble you’re asking for. 

“Jules,” Charles started as he held the boy’s hand, making their way back to the office after having some photos taken, “Do not go far from the office when Da has a meeting, alright?” 

“But I only went in the museum, Da,” Jules reasoned out, “and Uncle Artie went with me!” 

“Well I’m glad you went with someone,” Charles shrugged, “but there is someone I would like you to meet.” 

“Oh! Cool,” Jules exclaimed. “C'est le père de maman?” Is it Maman’s father? 

Charles and Arthur shared a look over Jules’ head. Yeah no.

The boys had always mentioned that they’ve never met any of their grandfathers before. They understood why their Papy Hervé was not here anymore but Aimee’s father — Julius Hearth — was still alive. How come they’ve never met them? 

“Non, mais il est proche de maman,” No but he is close to Maman. Charles replied quietly, eventually coming to a stop in front of the conference room by the Scuderia Ferrari Team Principal Fred Vasseur’s office. 

Jules stood there, expectantly looking at his father as Charles gestured to the entryway. Stepping inside without looking away from his father, Jules finally looked in front of him as his glimmering eyes turned curious. 

A man sat there. There are some signs of age in his face, but Jules could tell that he was not older than his father. The man’s smile brightened the room, the shade of his skin brightening like the sun. 

Jules looked up at Charles, who only offered him a smile before telling him to keep walking. The man stood and stuck his hand out. 

“Last time I checked, you and Aimee were still new,” the man gave a teasing look to Charles, who only chuckled. His Scottish accent piqued Jules’ interest even more.

His Maman’s accent was different from his and as he continued to think about it, his cousins’ mixture of Austrian and RP accent wasn’t like this either. He’s from a different region, Jules deduced.

The man looked down and crouched, hand still stuck out as he spoke, “My name is Teague. Teague Edmunson. And you are…?”

With a face showing a mixture of curiosity and cautiousness, Jules looked back at Charles who only gave him a go-ahead before the boy reached out to shake the hand of the man and introduced himself, “My name is Jules Leclerc.”

“Ah! Jules?” Teague smiled softly as he gave a nod of approval towards Charles’ direction. “You named him Jules?”

“Yes, we did,” Charles grinned, his hand reaching out to mess with his son’s hair.

“Seems rather fitting,” Teague teased the Ferrari driver, “the Wingman of Maranello… Ah… he made you and Aimee possible after all.”

Jules’s face scrunched up in confusion, watching how his Uncle Arthur giggled and his father’s face flush red.

It was like he missed something. He wasn’t sure what but the way his Da’s turn red told him enough about asking him about the matter later.

“I’m sorry, mister,” Jules piped up, making the men look down at him with questioning looks. He proceeded to look at the man who introduced himself as Teague and asked, “My Da said that you know my Maman well. Can I ask what you are to her?”

“Jules,” Arthur called, “do you know one of your Maman’s last names?”

The boy shook his head, making Teague laugh quietly and answer with, “Edmunson, Little Bianchi.”

“You said that is your name,” Jules pointed out, making Teague nod. “So… if Maman’s name is Edmunson then you are her… brother?”

“Well… Not quite,” Teague shook his head before elaborating, “I’m her cousin. Don’t tell me your Maman had never spoken much of me? Charles?”

“Yes we have,” Charles scoffed. But all Jules seemed to have heard was that the man in front of him was his mother’s cousin. Then he recalled that one time he went browsing through his Maman’s childhood photo album.

He saw his aunts in those photos and even his Uncles Max and Lando. He knew that some of them grew up together, but there was one person that Jules once pointed out and it was a boy with a darker shade of skin and curly hair. The boy that he saw was sitting next to his Maman. 

Suddenly it all made sense to him. Aimee once introduced him to the photo of this boy as…

“You are Uncle T.”

Jules came to a conclusion, his lips spreading into a grin as it infected the whole room. 

“Yes, I am your Uncle T!” Teague confirmed, nodding eagerly. “Gah! I thought Aimee and Charles had forgotten about me. Or even your uncle Arthur!”

“I’d never forget about you, T,” Arthur scoffed.

Jules then turned to Arthur and said, “Uncle Arthur, you cannot even remember my full name! You have put my Pascal first before Blaise!”

“Ahhh, Arthur~” Charles gasped dramatically and looked at his younger brother. Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“I forgot about it once this noon and little Bianchi considers me a criminal for it,” Arthur muttered. “You and your Da, J. You like to give me a heart attack.” 

He stood next to his father while they both brushed their teeth, getting ready to go to bed for the next day. 

Jules had spent his day with Fred Vasseur and his Uncle Teague. It turned out that Teague was to work as an engineer at Ferrari after years of working at some firm in Luxembourg.

From what Jules learned, Teague never had the chance to visit Jules and his brothers due to his work commitments. Now, he’s had every chance to— and he did make sure that his time was well spent. 

“Da,” Jules spoke after rinsing his mouth, hearing a hum from Charles as he glanced at the older Leclerc. “On reverra l'oncle Teague?” Will we see Uncle Teague again? 

“Oui,” Charles murmured as he continued to brush his teeth. He spat the contents of his mouth and rinsed his mouth before he answered his son, “He will be there for your race, Jules.” 

“Ah,” Jules nodded in understanding. Silence was shared between the Leclerc boys before Jules asked, “Est-il proche de Maman?” Is he close to Maman?

“Very,” Charles nodded, “but he is not your Maman’s best friend though. He was…” 

Jules Leclerc, if you were to compare him to his twin and the rest of his brothers, was good at reading expressions. He could just tell that Charles wanted to tell him something but refuses to.

Jules always told himself that his Da got the look that his brother Hervé had whenever he was in the verge of crying or breaking down, and this was no exception.

So rather than bringing up the situation Jules went ahead and said, “Da, pourquoi l'oncle T a-t-il dit que mon nom correspondait?” Da, why did Uncle T say that my name is fitting? 

Charles’s expression changed as he snapped his head towards the direction of his son. “What do you mean?”

“I do not know,” Jules said before he tried to recall the events earlier, “he said uh… Il m'a appelé quelque chose… W- wingman?” He called me something.

“Ah,” Charles chuckled, shaking his head lightly before he grabbed the brush from the sink alongside a hair tie. He stepped behind Jules and began brushing the boy’s hair back. “The Wingman of Maranello.” 

“Oui! That!” Jules exclaimed, wincing lightly when he moved and his dad tugged on his hair lightly. Charles muttered an apology before Jules continued, “What does that mean?” 

“Uh… so,” Charles tried to speak but he couldn’t help but focus on the detangling brush on his hand as he continued to brush Jules’ damp hair. “Do you know- Maman t'a-t-elle parlé de la Saint-Valentin?” Did Maman tell you about Valentine’s Day? Jules nodded as Charles explained, “There is something called a Cupid. Now, Cupid— he matches people with others. To find someone to love.”

“Maman said that! She said that Cupid helped you and Maman!” Jules said as his eyes glimmered at the thought of Cupid doing their work— a masterpiece that the boy called his Maman and Da. 

“Yeah, well you see,” Charles chuckled, “long before Maman and I got together with the help of Cupid, we had something called the wingman. It’s someone who encourages you to talk to the person that you like.”

“Like Cupid?”

“Pretty much, but Cupid just helps people get together and love stronger,” Charles shrugged, “the wingman, in this case, helped me discover my love for your Maman more.” 

Charles smiled to himself. He remembered it vividly. 

BACK THEN

It turns out, being a student and a godson of a test driver — who was best friends with a stakeholder’s cousin — could lead him to a party at the Ferrari headquarters… and to her. 

Teague chuckled quietly before nudging Jules Bianchi slightly, earning a scowl from the Frenchman as he followed Teague’s line of sight, smirking lightly as Charles Leclerc — at the age of fifteen — blushed furiously and walked away from the golden skinned girl.

When the girl was out of their sight, Jules whistled as if to tease the boy. Charles gave Jules a glare as Teague laughed.

“Come on, Shal,” Jules grinned lopsidedly before he wrapped his arm around the Monegasque. “I think you should talk to her.”

“I already did,” Charles tried to shove Jules away from him, but the Frenchman was stronger than him as Jules laughed.

“Not that,” Jules shook his head, “maybe someday she’ll be your girlfriend~~”

“Jules, shhh-“ Charles hissed. 

“Careful now, Wingman of Maranello,” Teague piped up, “you might give my aunt a heart attack with all of your matchmaking.”

“I’ve done an alright job so far, don’t you think, T?” Jules winked at his best friend. “I’m sure your Aunt Amara wouldn’t mind having a handsome Monegasque for a son-in-law. It worked out so well with you and your girlfriend!

“Now Shal! Promise your best godfather Jules that you’d ask her out one of these days, hm? I’d be damned if you let go of a smart girl like her.” 

NOW

“So if I’m called Jules and he was your Uncle Jules… does that mean I get to play matchmaker too?”

Charles laughed aloud, finally tying his son’s hair into a bun before he wrapped his arms around his boy. 

“Why not,” Charles rolled his eyes before pressing kisses on his son’s face. “You can do whatever you want, little Bianchi. Just not anything that will send your Da or Maman to the hospital, hm?” 

Jules sighed contentedly, resting against his father’s chest as he looked at himself and his dad in the vanity. He then smiled and said, “I hope Hervé gets better before the race. Then Uncle T can see me and him race.” 

“I hope so, too, Jules,” Charles sighed quietly, patting his son on the shoulder before nudging the boy towards the direction of their bedroom. “Now off we go. We’ve a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Will I drive the LaFerrari this time, Da?”

“If your Zio Fred has someone to find it for you, then yes. Perhaps don’t crash around the office. It’s a busy day tomorrow.”

“Uh… okay. Maybe I can make that promise.”

“You can promise? So silly of you, Jules.”

[snarryauctoberfest]

The Week 1 roundup can be found here. The Week 2 roundup can be found here.

Week 4 commences posting on the 21st of October.

Day 10

Title: After the Orchard Creator: ??? Prompt: Prompt 2024-110: Newly widowed Harry has trouble getting his son to sleep. One night Hermione sends him a podcast of Severus Snape talking about his time during the war, and it puts his son directly to sleep. Even though the man had never answered any of Harry’s letters through the year, he decides to reach out and tell him about this new development. Rating: Mature Word Count: 20.8k Summary: Same as prompt.

💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️

Title: Blonde Tresses Creator: ??? Prompt: Prompt: 2024-115 - Severus had sworn never to kneel before another wizard again. But he had to try proposing one last time. Rating: Mature Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Same as prompt.

💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️

Day 11

Title: Second Chance Inheritance Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-232 - The Prince family has a different sort of inheritance, the secret to their success: When they come of age, members are taught the Second Chance spell. One chance to go back in time and fix things. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 32k Summary: Following a tragedy, Severus Snape is determined to tap into his estranged family's greatest legacy. He finds himself with more chances to woo the love of his life than he ever thought possible.

💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️

Day 12

Title: Help Stepdad, I'm Stuck! Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-67 - Help Stepdad, I'm stuck! Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6k Summary: After years of marriage, Severus can feel his relationship with Lily waning. He had already been contemplating ending things when his stepson, Harry, proposes something that he struggles to refuse, although will he ultimately come to regret it?

💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️

Title: Leak Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-165 - Harry is a plumber (hot daddy type with hairy chest - I beg for it). He was called to Spinner's End. The door was answered by a pissed off, soaked wet bloke in a silk robe and lace stockings. Harry had never been turned on by the sight of another man in his entire life. Well, until now. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.3k Summary: Same as prompt.

💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️

Day 13

Title: (Not Quite) As You Wish Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-124: After Nagini's bite, due to some unresolved life debt stuff, Severus becomes Harry's Genie in a Bottle… And he desperately wants to make Potter's life as difficult as he can - until he hears what Harry actually wishes for. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Word Count: 6.5k Summary: It’s post-war, and Harry is still hearing voices. A voice. One, very specific voice. A voice that wants something of him. And it’s the one thing he doesn’t do.

💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️

Title: Lively Days at Potter House by khaleesisophie - a Podfic Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Length: 2:12:47 Summary: Podfic of Lively Days at Potter House by khaleesisophie

Harry, who has a misplaced understanding of his own skill in matchmaking, attempts to strike a match for his dear friend, Draco Malfoy. A tale of misunderstanding and romantic misadventures.

Or, the Emma Snarry AU we always needed.

💚❤️ Listen to on AO3 💚❤️

Day 14

Title: First Impressions Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-216: Trope reversal: Snape was forced into multiple arranged marriages by his grandparents. The spouses kept dying. Very mysterious. But Harry isn't worried when he winds up the latest candidate. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24.6k Summary: When Harry is forced to marry a complete stranger, he tries to make the best of things. After all, he's a Healer, he can take care of himself. And his new husband seems nice enough… But why, exactly, has Severus already been married three times before? And why have all three of those previous spouses died unexpectedly? Is Harry next? Or will he fall in love with his new husband after all?

💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️

2024 Snarry AUctoberfest Entries || HOS Tumblr || Discord

[primrosechronicles]

"Love's Serendipity in the Enchanted Garden"

A Miles Morales!1610 x Princess!Reader Fanfiction

Summary: As a princess, you find yourself in an arranged marriage, tears stream down your cheeks as you seek refuge in the flower bed. There, you weep and sob until a kind boy discovers you in the garden. Warnings: Minor swearing Word Count: 2551

With tearful eyes, you storm out of the Throne room, angrily wiping your tears as you march within the castle walls. How dare he! Your own Father, the Emperor, has arranged a marriage for you, and to make matters worse, it's with the child of one of his fuc— freaking Captains! All you wanted was to find love on your own terms, not have your dad play matchmaker! 

You reached one of the numerous Royal gardens and simply sat down, letting your emotions flow freely. Tears streamed down your face as you found comfort sitting in the flower bed; you could care less about your dress getting dirty! you’re about to be wed off to a stranger! 

After what felt like hours of crying, you caught the sound of rustling; fear gripped you. You quickly huddled up, burying your face between your knees and listened to the flowers being pushed around. Terrified for your safety, you closed your eyes tightly. Then you heard a voice: “Are you alright?”

With a sniffle, you opened your eyes and lifted your head and notice a boy extending his arm towards you. You reach out, and he gently pulls you out of the flower bed. Now; you have the chance to properly observe his face, and oh man.. is he cute, from his beautiful brown skin to his curly black hair, freckles that give him a vague resemblance to a baby deer, and his gentle brown eyes that are carefully assessing your body for any injuries. You now stare at your dress regretting ever sitting in that dirty flowerbed, you can't believe your dress is ruined especially now when there's a cute guy in front of you!

“Are you okay? Did you fall? Did someone push you? what happened?” he frantically asked as he gave you his handkerchief to wipe your tears with. You gratefully accepted his handkerchief and used it to wipe away your tears. “its..” hic “my dad he-” hic. 

He placed his arm on your shoulder. “It’s okay… just— just breathe.” He said as he himself took a deep breath. Following his lead, you took deep breaths, and after a few moments, you managed to compose yourself and find some peace and calm. Both of you remained in silence, with him patiently awaiting for you to continue; calm and composed while you, in contrast, is panicking trying to find the right words to explain why you ended up crying in the flower bed in the first place.

“My dad arranged for me to be married to someone i don't know.” you finally spoke, a tear falling down your face.

He thought for a second, then spoke: “What a coincidence.”

Confused, you raised your head to look at him “Coincidence?”

He wiped your tears away with his finger, your stomach filling with butterflies as he did and he softly said. ”I’m in the same situation.” the rays of the setting sun illuminated his face beautifully; Was he a fucking angel sent by god himself? “My dad didn't even bother to tell me who she was or what family she was from.. he just said that she was a nice lady and that to trust him, like what? How's that gonna make me feel better? What if she acted nice in front of him but actually she's mean? what then?”

You chuckled and nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “I totally get that, like, what if my husband is a drunkard or cheats on me in the future? i don’t want to be with someone like that..” you said before shouting: “He didn't even tell me his age!” He winces “oof.. now that’s scary..” “I know right?” 

Moments pass and you both fall into a comfortable conversation.

“I just want to marry someone of my choosing, to marry someone I want to love.” you said longingly.

He nodded and said “buutttt.. there is a possibility of us falling in love with the person we are arranged to.”

You scoff “it’s unlikely for me to fall for someone i’ve never met, let alone someone im supposed to be married to.”

“Judging from the way you’re dressed, I'm sure your father picked someone suitable… it's not like your father just played eenie meenie miney mo on your future husband right?” He suggested, hoping to ease your fears.

You agreed to his thought process. “true.” 

Gradually, the conversation shifted to other subjects, and you both engaged in endless hours of talking, filled with laughter and shared dreams. However, the pleasant moment was interrupted when a servant unexpectedly approached the two of you.

“My Lady, your father is calling for you” she spoke plainly.

With a hint of annoyance, you rolled your eyes, feeling reluctant to meet your father, especially after he arranged a marriage with a complete stranger. However, as the Emperor himself, you wouldn't dare disobey him, so you reluctantly left the boy behind.

“I’m so sorry but we have to cut this meeting short, may we meet again!” You say after you curtsy, before hurrying into the castle to prevent your father from growing more impatient.

The boy remains standing there, extending his arm as he watches you and your servant run into the castle. "Wait!" he calls out, but then lets his arm drop to his side. "I didn't even get her name..." he murmurs to himself disappointedly.

After closing the grand doors, you walk into the dining room and make your way to the vacant seat beside your father, sitting down with your hands resting on your lap. Gradually, the room comes alive as servants enter, filling the room with the sound of clinking plates and the arrangement of food on the table. After setting the table, the servants then line up along the walls, ready and attentive, waiting to assist in any way needed. 

You place a napkin on your lap and start dining, After a few minutes of eating you speak: “Is he… my age?” Your father only nodded in response. 

“What does he look like?” “ You'll know during the ball next week.”

“Is he a marquis? a count?” “He's a future duke.”

“is he… handsome?” “He's often described as a cutie patootie by the ladies” 

“Why him?” “He seemed the most suitable.” 

You eat more before speaking again “Father, you have no right to tell me who to marry, Please… break off the engagement..” Your father sighed before shaking his head “i’ve already signed on it, Morales’ son is a good man, I only want what’s best for you..” You scoff “what’s best for me? are you fucking serious?” “language.” “What's best for your daughter is letting her choose her own husband!” You say before standing up then storming out.

The emperor let out a loooong sigh after you left, before continuing to eat his food.

After angrily slamming the door to your bedchamber, you run to your bed and start to scream and cry on your pillow. why why WHY? why… doesn't he get it? 

You remain motionless, your face buried in the pillows. A few minutes pass as you continue to cry and thrash your arms around; your lady-in-waiting, Mrs. Eliza Albertine, enters the room and softly taps your shoulder.

“My lady…? Are you alright?” 

You lifted your head and looked at your lady-in-waiting, your mascara smudged from the tears and your hair disheveled and untidy. “noOO!” you cried out.

“What ever is the matter?” 

You look down and bit your lip “my…” hic “my dad ruined..” hic, you stopped and took a few breaths remembering how the boy demonstrated earlier.

“my dad arranged for me to be married to a stranger…” “well… I'm sure it can't be that bad, your highness…” 

Suddenly, you sat up and let out a shout: “can't be that bad?! Are you joking me?! my life is about to be over Eliza!”

Eliza let out a sigh and averted her gaze from you, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for raising your voice at her. “I’m sorry Eliza that was uncalled for—” “did you know i was arranged to be married?”

You looked at her with a shocked expression “What..?”

“Yes, me and my husband were strangers when we kissed at that altar.” She looked down and held your hand. “I understand how you’re feeling, and… it's going to be alright, you have to understand that your father is doing this for your safety.”

You turned your gaze away. After a brief pause, Eliza stood up and performed a curtsy in front of you. “I’ll get going now.. I hope all goes well.” She said after exiting your bedchamber.

With a heavy sigh, you make your way towards the balcony to contemplate your situation or maybe even strategize an escape from the impending marriage. As you gaze into the distance, your eyes are drawn to the garden where you had encountered the kind and gentle boy earlier. Your stomach becomes swarmed with butterflies as you thought of him.

“Fuck it.” you whispered to yourself as you walked towards your door.

You walked through the ornate corridors of the castle, Your footsteps echoing with urgency. The thought of your impending arranged marriage with a complete stranger made you feel scared and worried, you yearned for an escape from the suffocating reality of your marriage.

Finally, you walked through the garden's entrance, the moon’s light welcomed you as you ventured deeper into the lush greenery, seeking solace inside the flower bed you cried in earlier.

Your heart longed for love to find on your own, not through an arrangement made for political alliances. The thought of being bound to someone you have never met, let alone loved, was too much to bear. 

As the soft breeze whispered through the leaves, Your mind wandered to a life of your own choosing, a life filled with genuine affection and shared dreams. But reality had other plans, tugging at your heartstrings, reminding you of the duty you must fulfill as a princess.

Tonight is the night you are set to meet your future husband, a man your father has chosen for you. With a roll of your eyes, you can't help but scoff at the mere thought. The idea of even liking, let alone loving, the man your father selected makes you want to jump out a window. But alas; you may have been trained in sword fighting but you don't have strength to ever go against your Father.

The grand ballroom was adorned with dazzling chandeliers, casting a radiant glow over the elegantly dressed guests. As the orchestra played an upbeat melody, you stood near the edge of the ballroom, trying to hide your anxiousness behind a polite smile. You noticed the guests arriving one by one, but there was one arrival that would change everything.

Through the sea of beautifully attired nobles, you saw a figure that caught your attention. A Boy, with the same dark skin, curly hair and freckles as the boy who comforted you at the garden. It couldn't be, could it?

Holy fuck.

In that moment, your eyes met his, and a flicker of recognition passed between you. It was him—the same boy, who looked like a baby deer. He was the one who had comforted you in the flower bed, the one who wiped away your tears and made you laugh. How could fate be so cruel and be so intriguing?

As he drew closer, you tried to steady your racing heart. There was something in the way he looked at you, something familiar and kind that softened your resistance. You realized that the connection you felt in the garden wasn't just fleeting; it was something deeper, something you couldn't easily forget

He approached with a warm smile, and you found yourself unable to look away. The noise of guests and music of the ballroom seemed to fade away, and for that brief moment, it was as if you two were the only people in the room.

Mr. Morales and his son spoke in unison, "Good evening your royal highnesses, We are honored to be in your presence," and then gracefully performed a bow as a sign of respect.

“Oh hush now Morales! You musn't be so formal now, especially when our families are soon to be united.” Your father said as he shook your future father-in-law’s hand. 

Mr. Morales laughed in response then turned to you “Your highness, this is my son Miles Morales, my heir.”

“And your future husband” Your father added. 

Miles walked up to you and planted a gentle kiss on your hand, then gave you a playful wink; His charming gesture elicited a chuckle from you, unable to resist his flirtatious charm.

While your father, the Emperor, and your future father-in-law engaged in a lively conversation, you and your future husband found yourselves unable to join in. Amidst the animated atmosphere, he turned to you, the light from the chandeliers delicately accentuating his features, and asked, "Would you honor me with this dance?” You smiled and took his hand, excitedly pulling him to the dance floor.

Throughout the evening, you found yourselves drawn to each other, engaging in conversations and dancing together. The initial reluctance you had felt was gradually replaced by curiosity and a newfound sense of comfort.

Feeling tired, you and Miles decided to escape to the very same garden where your first encounter took place.

You took a deep breath, a mix of emotions swelling within you. "Okay, uhm... This is just unbelievable. You? My future husband?" Your voice held a touch of awe and amazement.

He nodded, "Indeed, I am. Are you disappointed?"

Your eyes softened with sincerity as you replied, "No, I'm not disappointed." The love in your voice was unmistakable.

He let out a sigh of relief, a hint of vulnerability shining through. "Good," he said with a gentle smile.

Breaking the momentary silence, you mused, "Fate is so weird, isn't it? It brought us together in the most unexpected way possible!"

He joined in, his laughter mingling with yours. "I agree! My father said I was marrying someone important, but I didn't expect it to be someone from the Royal Bloodline!"

In that instant, your laughter turned into something deeper, an unspoken understanding passing between you. The garden, where you first met, now seemed to hold an even more magical significance.

Hand in hand, you danced under the moonlit sky, the faint sound of the party's music serenading your love story. Fate had indeed woven a tale you could have never imagined, but as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that this unexpected journey was leading you exactly where your hearts wanted to be but one thing was certain—meeting Miles tonight had shifted your world, and maybe, just maybe, love could bloom from a connection that started in the serenity of an Enchanted Garden.

a/n: FINALLY! after hours of procrastinating and listening to "classical music to sleep or study to" on spotify.. I FINISHED IT! this is my first time ever writing a fic... TY MY BESTIE FOR HELPING ME ILY!

[sharuruwrites]

Cupid

I gave a second chance to Cupid

But now, I'm left here feeling stupid

Oh, the way he makes me feel

That love is not real

Cupid is so dumb

- Cupid by Fifty Fifty

Tags: Fem!Reader, Fluff, Gojo Satoru playing Wingman for Reader, curses and techniques doesn't exist, slice of life, yearning?, Gojo is a brat and asshole, Reader is hopeless romantic, reader is named You, Unedited

N/a: Just thought of this one shot while I was listening to this song, and went "Hmmm...let me add the reason why the Cupid is a dumb b-tch with Gojo's yearning in this shit."

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

PLAYER 1 WINS

The bright red text flashed brightly on the tv as the fighter posed victoriously.

Strange. The lack of competitive yet toxic spirit in You raised concerns from Gojo.

"Something the matter?" Gojo put down his controller beside him. "You're not normally this quiet."

"Satoru," You glanced at him. "Do you hate me?"

No, and if he did, he would rather be dead than live the rest of his life hating her.

"Perhaps, to tease you." Gojo smirked. "But, for your sanity sake, I will say no."

"Then why are you setting me up with shitty dates from the start?!"

You ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated.

"The latest is by far the worst I've gone through! How did you get the idea that I'll enjoy dating a man who's not only a pest, but also has views that are so outdated? He straight up told me that a woman should walk three steps behind him while we're just walking in the park!"

Honestly? It's a genuine mistake on Gojo's part. Desperation times called for desperate measures. However, the failure of You's past dates were part of his intricate plan. His best friends, Suguru and Shoko, called his plan dumb and manipulative, but haters gonna hate. Cringed as it sounded.

The plan that he was so proud of? That he had to play the inverse role of Cupid?

Simple. To make You fall for him.

At first, he mistaken those budding feelings of his similar to familial, given they were close since kindergarten. Yet, he knew it slowly bloomed when You's absence grew his heart fonder as they attended different universities, and found himself looking forward to her said visits. He missed everything about her down to the sound of his name from her voice.

 Growing up robbed the only constant in his life – You.

Throughout the years, his friend became a thorough hopeless romantic thanks to the fairy tales she read. She wasn't particularly this aggressive to find love until now. If he were to warrant a guess, perhaps due to peer pressure. Despite the horrendous dates he sent her through, she still held onto the hope of finding her one true love. As the supportive friend and future husband to be, he volunteered to be her matchmaker.

Once she's somewhat defeated by the woes of finding love, he would swoop in and have her fall for him instantly. That's what happened to his parents. Both gave up on dating before they met each other. It worked since they still maintained the blissful matrimony.

"Sorry about that one," Gojo scratched his head. "I just overheard him saying that he needs to go out more."

"I kicked his shin before leaving. So, we're good." You said nonchalantly. "At this rate, I'm going to just ask Suguru. He's a gentleman, don't you think?"

"What makes you think he'll go out with you?" Alarmed, Gojo asked too quickly for his taste.

"Shoko told me once while I was drinking with her." She answered. "Apparently, Suguru is interested in dating me, but he doesn't want to risk his friendship with you or something like that."

That damn alcoholic. He thought Shoko's tolerance to alcohol was higher than Nanami's. How much did You drink to out drink Shoko to the point of loosening her lips?

"No" Gojo crossed his arms. "And, he's busy with his thesis right now."

"How quick of you to shot me down, unless..."

You snapped her fingers.

"Do you like him? I'm not surprised given the ongoing bromance since high school between-"

"I love you, not him." Gojo blurted, interrupting his friend.

You's grip on Gojo's spare controller loosened until it dropped on her lap. Her eyes widened in surprise and mouth gaped open. Confused, Gojo stared at the sudden reaction of his friend. Realization struck him hard like a bullet train upon hearing her next words.

"You love me?" She slowly repeated his words.

WHAT

THE

FUCK

There goes his plans. It went up to flames because of his dumb mistake. At this point, any fucks he had were thrown all out of the window. Gojo confessed everything about his plan to her while Guilt gnawing on his conscience. Because of the said emotion, Fear and Shame joined together and formed intrusive thoughts in his head.

What if she didn't want to be friends with him anymore? What if she started hating him?

"I...don't know what to make of this..." You released a deep breath. "I...don't even know where to start. What happens to us now then?"

He didn't know. Was that the answer he truly wanted to say to You? Doubt and distress didn’t suit a woman like her. So, he would dispel it with a question of his own, and it's up to her in the end. Whether they remained friends or not, he respected her decision. 

Gojo took her hand with great care. It was a relief to him that she didn't pull away or flinch from his touch. Gently, his thumb caressed the back of her hand to soothe his nerves. A gesture she always did whenever he needed it.

"I know it's selfish of me to ask this, and I'll accept whatever your answer is but," Gojo frowned, his blue eyes full of sincerity and certainty. "Will you please give this stupid cupid of yours a chance? To give you the love you deserved?

[nivtee]

: ̗̀➛ OPEN. kirishima eijirou

kirishima eijiour x gn!reader

fluff ! open relationship ! cheating ! unhappy marriage ! jerk!midoriya ! reader is reffered to as 'wife !

your husband wants to open your marriage, and kirishima has been waiting for so long

sipping lightly on the champagne you had ordered, you ignored the slight buzz running through your stomach. as much as you wanted to claim it was the drink, you knew it was the nerves.

you still wore your wedding ring, the green jewel sitting on full display. you turned it around to face your palm with a frown.

you were a wife, a wife to izuku midoriya, deku, the number one pro hero. you thought you treated him well, acting like a good little housewife for him whenever he went away.

however, you couldn't ignore the sutble glances you gave him every now and then. you weren't a pushover, no, but you let things slide under the rug when it came to midoriya.

the pieces of clothing you'd find tucked away in his draws when doing the laundry, the way he would hide his screen at the dinner table, too many late nights at the agency. you weren't stupid.

maybe you were, otherwise you would have left him, demanded for a divorce like mina and suggested and ran off. only, you had sat and listened to his excuses and his suggestions of how you both could work on the relationship.

you scoffed, like you needed to work on anything for him.

he'd suggested an open marriage maybe three, four months ago. tabloids had blown up after you agreed, 'pro hero deku seen courting fellow hero uravity!' 'deku seen with another woman, without wedding ring?' 'are the midoriya's still in love?'

you shook your head and pulled out your phone. you hadn't dabbled in dating, hadn't even thought of going through with izuku's idea until momo had suggested it.

“you should take him up on his offer,” she had texted your right after getting off the phone and listening to you rant about him for the seventh time. “go on a couple dates, see how quickly he comes running back to you.”

and so here you were, dressed up, covered in red. a passerby may have believed you were being stood up but you weren’t, you’d arrived almost half an hour earlier.

maybe this was wrong, maybe you should just call him up and tell him you weren’t ready-

“am I late?” you lifted your head, eyes dancing up the black suit with red accents that stood in front of you. he was taller, much taller that you or izuku, with his hair neatly slicked back, most likely freshly dyed due to the red stains on his forehead.

he held a bouquet of flowers, gripping the bottom of them so tightly you were worried they might break, and his other hand gripping the back of his chair.

you hadn’t responded since he spoke, too enthralled by his sharp teeth and the way the suit clenched around his muscles.

“no!” you jumped at your own voice. “no. sorry, im- you’re just on time.” you smiled and let out a puff of air, straightening yourself up.

“good. shit, oh- sorry, I was so worried i’d be late, didn’t want you to think of me standing you up.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

eijirou kirishima, pro hero red riot. you kept your eyeroll to yourself at mina’s obvious matchmaking. she had told you just how enamoured he was with you ever since he’d seen you at one of the hero galas.

of course, you’d never seen him so dressed up before. “you look stunning.” you smiled, covering your mouth with your hand to try and stop the blush running up your neck.

“im- mina said you liked red, so.” you shrugged, picking up a menu despite already knowing what you wanted.

“i’d like you in anything,” you raised your eyebrows, peeking at him and noticed the pink covering his cheeks.

izuku didn’t compliment you much, not when you’d go out to dinners and not when you’d been at home.

“if this date goes well, I might just show you in my winter wear.” you winked at him, and he let out a laugh in response. he shook his head and raised his hand for a waiter.

you furrowed your brow and bit your lip, ignoring the slight flutter in your stomach as you compared his actions to things izuku would do.

he wasn’t rude, but being number one had gone to his head and somewhere along the way he started figuring out he could do whatever he wanted, so usually he’d walk straight to the kitchen and order straight from there.

as the waiter came around, kirishima glanced up to ask you what you wanted, giving you the chance to snap out of your thoughts.

“uh- could I please have the cheese steak?” the lady nodded, sending you a polite smile before collecting your menus. it was a stark contrast to the way most waitresses would glare when you were with izuku.

“so,” eijirou was nervous. he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, because he didn’t want you to think he was worried and uncool, but god was he nervous.

staring over at you, his breath kept catching every-time your eyes glanced up at home. your jewlery doing nothing in comparison to the red over your chest.

he would have to thank mina for the suggestion.

“do you want to talk about it?” you knew what he was talking about but you hadn’t expected him to ask, no one had asked you about it.

“no, no.” you smiled up at him, “we’re on a date. I wan’t to talk about you.”

everything had been amazing. kirishima had paid for the dinner, even after you’d tried to pay, and he’d promised to let you pay next time. you couldn’t ignore the way it made your stomach tighten.

he’d even walked you to the front door, where you were sure izuku would have already had his guest come and go. meaning you wouldn’t have much time before he came down to see who you were with.

“I hope you had a good time. with me- I mean.” kirishima pursed his lips. you stood up two of the steps and only just reached the same height as him. he held your hand in his own and rocked it back and forth.

“I did,” you swallowed, ignoring just how nice he felt with your hand in his, how warm he was. “i’m really looking forward to the next one.”

you pulled him forward by his tie and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips, pulling back only for him to pull you back in, his lips stopping just before your own.

“please-“ he whimpered, letting you know that it was you that got to make the final move. you crashed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling his clench the fabric on your waist.

the flick of the porch light made you well aware of your predicament, the both of you splitting a part as the door swung open.

izuku, shirtless and dressed in his grey sweatpants, arms crossed and staring down at the both of you.

“oh. izuku, this is-“

“kirishima.” izuku nodded, completely ignoring you and staring the taller man down. if he was scared. eijirou didn’t show it and instead nodded back and turned to you.

“ill see you round, alright?” he waved and moved back towards his car, letting you turn your attention back to izuku.

[lucigoo]

Weekly Roundup: 30th December 2024 - 5th January 2025

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Hope you all have an amazing year! Now, on to my fics. I made a 2024 fic master list here that has all my 2024 fics on it. Now I'm ready to start on more fics for 2025!

This week I wrote 2 fics with 8,682 words.

On to new year recs first though ofc: (as always please check the tags before reading)

A Person Called Home - Rauchendes_GNU - Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Geralt/Jaskier, modern au)

Summary: In which Geralt is homeless, Jaskier is looking for a muse and everybody else plays matchmaker.

Bring Me Home Even Though You Don’t Want Me - Karlethandra_Merthensa - The Witcher (TV) (Geralt/Jaskier, Modern au)

Summary: Vesemir hasn’t heard anything from or about his eldest son, Geralt, in six years— Not since he moved out with his asshole of a boyfriend Rience.

However, Vesemir receives a letter from a man claiming to be Geralt’s new boyfriend, and inside is an offer than Vesemir cannot refuse.

Will this cause old wounds to spit open and bleed, or allow them to finally cease their ache? Read to find out! Also more info on the tags in the top notes!

Geralt the Grumpy Griffin - DancingLassie -The Witcher (Geralt/Jaskier, Modern au)

Summary: Geralt knew Jaskier was mad at him. But he hadn't expected his boyfriend's revenge to come in the form of the newest character in Jaskier's hit TV show.

it wasn't me - ColorMeParanoid - Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Geralt/Jaskier, Fake dating/marriage au)

Summary: The one in which Jaskier uses his fictional marriage to Geralt as a get out of jail free card when cornered by cuckolded husbands. To absolutely no one’s surprise, it backfires.

everyone's scared of Rivia - Sunfl0wer78 - Wiedźmin | The Witcher - (Geralt/Jaskier, modern au)

Summary: Mr. Rivia was terrifying. A good teacher, sure, but one stare could frighten his class into listening within seconds. His white hair and piercing eyes certainly didn't help, and the fact that no one knew anything about him. He was kind of a loner.

In other news, Jaskier was everyone's favorite singer. No doubt about it. Super outgoing and social, you couldn't help but love him.

These two things are completely unrelated.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match - DancingLassie - The Witcher (Geralt/Jaskier, Modern au)

Summary: The last thing Vesemir expected when he broke his hip (caused by slipping in his kitchen, of all things) was to meet the future love of Geralt’s life. Now all he had to do was subtly convince Geralt and Jaskier of the fact.

I hope you have a wonderful year full of amazing fics that stir your soul, from the smallest 100 drabbles to the largeest 300k monster fics.

So, as I said I have 2 fics to share this week.

Toss a coin to your witcher ( he needs it, we have two steeds to pay for now) (Geralt/Jaskier, written from this post by @thedemonofcat)

Summary: Jaskier has returned to Geralt after a few weeks absence but he isnt alone.

Geralt loks at the horse that is taller than him and knows he is going to regret Jasier and his fool choices.

Mischief-Match Makers (Bilbo/Thorin, Sam/Frodo, writtne for the amazing @vorpalinas for the @whiteoliphaunt event.)

Summary: Merry and Pippin have followed Frodo back to Erebor from The Shire after his and Sam's honeymoon is over.

When they get to the mountain, well Thorin and Bilbo do nothing but bicker, what if Thorin is falling out of love with Bilbo? It would break their Uncle Bilbo's heart.

What is a pair of concerned young hobbits to do apart from make sure Thorin and Bilbo rekindle the romance in their relationship, or try to at least.

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

Beyond the Charade - F!Reader x Balthus von Albrecht

Fire Emblem - Three Houses (Time Skip)

To evade relentless matchmaking from friends and family, Reader and Balthus von Albrecht agree to fake a romantic relationship.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The chill of winter clung to Garreg Mach Monastery, seeping through its ancient stone walls as [Name] made her way through the dimly lit corridors. The monastery, once brimming with activity, now carried an air of quiet resilience. It had become the resistance's bastion, a gathering place for those determined to reclaim their lands from the Empire's grip. [Name], now a professor of combat strategy and black magic, found herself at the center of it all.

But tonight, strategy was far from her mind.

Her boots clicked against the stone floor as she made her way to the training grounds, needing to burn off the frustration that had been simmering since dinner. It had been another one of those evenings. Hilda’s conspiratorial smirks, Claude’s pointed comments about "the perfect political match," and even Lorenz’s insufferable suggestions about how she could “enhance her station” by aligning herself with a noble house—it was all too much.

The constant prying into her personal life felt suffocating, like a vice tightening around her. She’d spent years clawing her way out of the shadows of other people’s expectations, and yet here she was again, being scrutinized for her “duty” rather than her choices.

When she reached the training grounds, she stopped short. Someone was already there.

Balthus von Albrecht was in the middle of his evening routine, driving his fists into a makeshift punching bag with rhythmic precision. His shirt lay discarded on a nearby bench, leaving his broad shoulders and muscled torso gleaming in the flickering torchlight. He paused when he noticed her watching, turning with a grin that was as shameless as it was genuine.

“Well, well, look who’s sneaking out for some late-night training. What brings you here, [Name]? Couldn’t resist the sight of me in action?”

She rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “Don’t flatter yourself. I needed to get out of the dining hall before I said something I’d regret.”

“Ah, the matchmaking squad strikes again?”

“How did you guess?”

He snorted, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. “They’ve been on my case, too. Can you believe it? They want me—the King of Grappling—to settle down and play noble husband.”

[Name] folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “And how would that even work with your… financial situation?”

“Exactly! Can you picture me trying to impress some fancy family while dodging my debt collectors? Hah!” He laughed, the sound rich and unbothered, though there was a flicker of something else in his eyes.

The corners of her mouth softened. Despite his easygoing demeanor, she knew Balthus carried more weight than he let on. He might joke about his debts and rough reputation, but there was a loyalty and warmth to him that had surprised her more than once.

“Anyway,” he continued, his tone light again, “what about you? Don’t tell me you’re actually considering one of those suitors.”

[Name] scoffed. “Hardly. I’ve had enough of being pushed into boxes I don’t belong in. I’m not about to let anyone decide my future for me.”

His grin widened, his amber eyes glinting with approval. “Now that’s what I like to hear. You’ve got more backbone than half the nobles I’ve met.”

An idea began to take shape in [Name]'s mind, her frustration slowly giving way to something more cunning. She glanced at Balthus, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“What if we gave them something to talk about?”

He tilted his head, intrigued. “I’m listening.”

“What if we pretended to be together? Just until they back off. It’d get the matchmakers off my back and give you a reason to dodge their lectures about settling down.”

Balthus’s eyebrows shot up, and then he threw his head back, laughing. “You want me to be your fake boyfriend? That’s bold, [Name]. I like it.”

“I’m serious,” she said, though a small smile played on her lips. “Think about it. We’d just need to act close during meetings, maybe drop a few hints, and make it convincing enough to keep everyone off our backs. No strings attached.”

He stroked his chin, pretending to mull it over. “Hmm… I dunno. What’s in it for me?”

She rolled her eyes. “The satisfaction of not being harassed about your lack of a wife?”

“Tempting, but let’s sweeten the deal,” he said with a teasing grin. “You help me out in a few sticky situations—say, backing me up in a fight or two—and I’ll play the part of your perfect fake boyfriend.”

[Name] considered it, then extended her hand. “Deal.”

He clasped her hand in his, the warmth of his grip surprising her. “Deal. This is gonna be fun.”

------

The plan worked like a charm.

At strategy meetings, Balthus made a point of sitting beside [Name], leaning back in his chair with a casual arm draped over hers. His antics were as theatrical as they were effective. Anytime a noble name came up in conversation, or someone’s matchmaking intent seemed to stray into dangerous territory, Balthus would interrupt with a playful comment.

“Now, now, don’t be giving [Name] any ideas,” he’d say, flashing a roguish grin. “She’s already got her hands full dealing with me. Isn’t that right, Sweetheart?”

[Name], though initially tempted to elbow him, learned to play along with a smirk. “Full is one way to describe it,” she’d reply dryly, earning a round of chuckles from the room.

During meals, Balthus dialed up the charm, leaning in to share private jokes that weren’t as private as they seemed.

“[Name],” he whispered loudly one evening, holding up a loaf of bread, “do you want this last piece, or should I heroically sacrifice it for you?”

She looked at him flatly, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Heroically sacrifice, of course. Just like you do on the battlefield.”

“Oh, I’m heroic in all things,” he said, dropping the bread onto her plate with a flourish. “My lady deserves the best.”

The exaggerated gallantry made Hilda squeal. “You two are so adorable! Look at him doting on you, [Name]!”

“He's not doting,” [Name] muttered, her ears burning. “he’s just being obnoxious.”

“She’s right,” Balthus agreed solemnly, though his grin gave him away. “It’s all part of my charm.”

Claude, ever the observer, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You know, Balthus, I’m impressed. I never thought you’d be the type to settle down. What’s your secret?”

Balthus leaned forward conspiratorially, as if sharing the answer to some great mystery. “It’s simple: I’ve got taste. Can’t let a gem like [Name] slip through my fingers.”

Claude raised an eyebrow at [Name], clearly expecting her to protest, but she only rolled her eyes and focused on her food.

Even Lorenz, who normally found fault with everything, begrudgingly admitted their "compatibility."

“Well,” he said, adjusting his cuffs one evening, “while your pairing is unorthodox, I must admit it has a certain... charm. Of course, proper decorum would dictate—”

“Oh, look,” Balthus cut in, tossing a grape into his mouth. “Lorenz is complimenting me. Let’s mark this day in history.”

Lorenz sniffed. “I was merely observing the obvious, though I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“You hear that, Firebrand?” Balthus said, nudging [Name]'s shoulder. “Even Mr. Perfect over here can’t deny we’re great together.”

“Miracles never cease,” [Name] quipped, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

The fake relationship brought unexpected perks beyond just deflecting unwanted attention. Balthus’s constant presence provided an easy buffer during tense discussions, and his larger-than-life personality often lightened the mood. But it also made [Name] notice things she hadn’t before.

She began to see the way he watched their allies during meetings, always ready to step in when someone looked overwhelmed. She noticed how, despite his carefree facade, he always seemed to know when morale was low and made it his mission to lift everyone’s spirits.

One night, after a particularly grueling day of planning, they sat together in the library. Balthus had claimed he was "helping" her review battle strategies, though most of his contributions involved doodling comical interpretations of their enemies on the margins of the map.

“You’re surprisingly good at that,” [Name] remarked, gesturing to a particularly exaggerated drawing of a general with a bird nesting in his helmet.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Balthus said, pretending to be offended. “I’m a man of many talents. Grappling, charming, and apparently artistic genius.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

“I'll take that laugh as you agreeing with me,” he shot back, grinning.

She didn’t respond right away, and the silence that followed was oddly comfortable. For a moment, [Name] allowed herself to relax, leaning slightly against him as they stared at the map. His warmth was a steady presence beside her, and she found herself thinking that maybe this charade wasn’t so bad after all.

-----

As the weeks went on, their act became second nature. But there were moments—small, fleeting moments—that made [Name] wonder if they were still pretending. Like when Balthus brought her a cup of tea during a late-night strategy session without her asking. Or when he stepped in front of her during a skirmish, shielding her from an enemy’s attack with a ferocity that went beyond mere camaraderie.

And then there were the quieter moments, like when he caught her arm after a meeting, holding her back as the others left.

“You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern. His voice was softer than usual, lacking its typical teasing edge. The way his amber eyes studied her, searching for something beneath the surface, made [Name] hesitate.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied quickly, her tone a little too brisk. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Balthus tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. His hand, warm and steady, lingered on her arm. “I dunno. You’ve been quiet today. You’re usually putting someone in their place by now.”

Her lips twitched at the comment, but the humor didn’t stick. She sighed, the weight of the day pressing down on her. “It’s just… everything. The constant planning, the battles, the expectations. Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Balthus’s hand slid from her arm but only so he could place it over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing more than enough, [Name]. More than anyone could ask for. And if anyone says otherwise, they can answer to me.”

She looked up at him, caught off guard by his sincerity. “Thanks, Balthus. That actually means… a lot.”

His trademark grin returned, though it was softer now. “Hey, what kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t have your back?”

Her cheeks warmed, and she rolled her eyes to cover it. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he quipped, but his gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he finally let her go. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before Lorenz decides to lecture us again.”

The days blended together in the chaotic rhythm of war, but those small moments between them stood out. Like the night Balthus showed up to her quarters with a tray of food, grinning sheepishly.

“You didn’t eat dinner,” he said by way of explanation, setting the tray down on her desk.

“I wasn’t hungry,” she replied, though the faint rumble of her stomach betrayed her.

“Sure, sure,” he said, pulling up a chair and gesturing for her to sit. “You’ve got to keep your strength up, Firebrand. No excuses.”

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously lecturing me about self-care? You, of all people?”

“Hey, I may not be perfect,” he said, winking, “but even I know you can’t fight on an empty stomach. Now eat up, or I’ll start feeding you myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

She shook her head but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re welcome,” he mused, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated air of satisfaction.

Then there was the skirmish on the outskirts of the monastery, where the Empire’s forces had launched a surprise attack. [Name] had been focused on casting a spell, her eyes locked on the advancing soldiers, when she felt a strong arm yank her backward. A split second later, an axe cleaved the air where she had been standing.

“[Name]!” Balthus barked, stepping in front of her with his gauntlets raised. He deflected the blow with a fierce growl, his movements precise and unrelenting as he forced the enemy back.

Her heart pounded as she watched him fight, the realization of how close she’d come to harm sinking in. Once the skirmish ended, she turned to him, her voice sharp with a mix of anger and worry. “What were you thinking, throwing yourself in like that?”

“What was I thinking?” he shot back, his own voice heated. “You could’ve been killed, [Name]!”

“I can handle myself!”

“I know you can,” he said, his tone softening. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stand by and watch you get hurt.”

Her anger fizzled out as quickly as it had flared. She studied him, the tension in his shoulders, the raw concern in his eyes. “Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, brushing off the blood on his gauntlets with a practiced ease. “Anytime.”

-----

The line between their act and reality blurred further with every passing day. [Name] found herself lingering when Balthus was around, drawn to his easy confidence and the way he made her laugh even when things seemed darkest. And Balthus, for all his bravado, began looking for excuses to be near her, his usual teasing tinged with something softer.

One evening, as they sat by the fire after another long day, [Name] broke the comfortable silence between them.

“Balthus,” she said, her voice hesitant, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he said, leaning back against the log he’d claimed as a seat. “Shoot.”

“Why did you agree to this? Pretending to be with me, I mean. What’s in it for you now that the others have left us alone?”

He glanced at her, his usual grin absent. For a moment, he seemed to weigh his words before answering. “At first? It was just a way to get everyone off my back. But now…” He hesitated, then shrugged. “Now, I think I just like being around you.”

Her breath caught at his honesty, and she looked away, unsure how to respond. “You’re not just saying that?”

“[Name],” he said, leaning closer so she couldn’t avoid his gaze, “I don’t say things I don’t mean. Not to you.”

[Name]'s cheeks burned as she met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes unraveling her carefully maintained composure. The crackle of the fire seemed deafening in the silence that followed. She opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. What could she say when the lines between their ruse and reality had already blurred so thoroughly?

Before she could untangle her thoughts, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the moment. Claude strolled into the clearing, hands casually tucked behind his head, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teased, his sharp eyes flitting between them. “The ‘happy couple’ having a heartfelt moment by the fire? Don’t let me interrupt.”

[Name] straightened, her face flushing. “We were just talking, Claude. Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Talking? Sure,” Claude said, drawing out the word as he dropped onto a nearby log. “But I’ve been around you two long enough to know when something’s changed.”

Balthus leaned back, his arms crossed, a grin tugging at his lips. “You’ve got a good imagination, buddy.”

Claude arched a brow, unconvinced. “Oh, come on. I knew your little act was fake from the start. But now? This”—he gestured between them—“this isn’t fake anymore.”

[Name]'s eyes widened, and she sputtered, “What are you talking about? It’s—”

“Save it,” Claude interrupted, holding up a hand. “I’ve been watching you two for weeks. The way he looks at you? Not fake. The way you get all flustered when he calls you ‘Sweetheart’? Definitely not fake.”

Balthus laughed, a low, rumbling sound. “You’ve got us all figured out, huh?”

Claude’s smirk softened, his tone more serious than usual. “Yeah, I do. And you’re an idiot if you keep pretending this is just some scheme.”

[Name] blinked, unsure whether to be annoyed or grateful for his bluntness. “Claude—”

“And you,” Claude cut her off, pointing at Balthus. “Just kiss her already. You’re not fooling anyone, least of all her.”

Balthus stared at him, then let out a bark of laughter. “You really know how to kill a moment, don’t you?”

Claude shrugged, his grin returning. “Consider it my good deed for the day. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it.”

With a mock salute, he sauntered off, leaving [Name] and Balthus alone again.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken tension. [Name] stared at the fire, her heart pounding as she tried to process what had just happened. Finally, she dared to glance at Balthus, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Well?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

“Well,” he repeated, leaning closer. “Claude’s got a point.”

Her breath hitched as his hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Balthus…”

“[Name],” he said, his voice low and steady, “I meant what I said earlier. None of this has been fake for a long time.”

Her heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, and for once, she didn’t try to deflect or hide. Instead, she closed the distance between them, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “It hasn’t been fake for me, either.”

The grin he gave her wasn’t his usual cocky smirk—it was softer, more genuine. “Good to know.”

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t like the playful touches or exaggerated gestures they’d used to sell their act. This was real, a kiss filled with all the emotion they’d been holding back for weeks. [Name]'s hand moved to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers as he cupped her cheek, his touch warm and grounding.

When they finally broke apart, Balthus rested his forehead against hers, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “So, where do we go from here, Firebrand?”

She smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Wherever we want, Balthus. Together.”

He chuckled, his grin returning as he pulled her closer. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind.”

And for the first time in a long while, [Name] felt like the future might just be something worth looking forward to.

~Fin~

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

I'm sorry I know there's Raphael, but Balthus is exactly my type of himbo QwQ

[apomaro-mellow]

Matchmaking Harringtons 7

Steve's extended family started coming into town about two days before the fourth of July. Steve and his parents played host and while Steve answered questions about his current significant other, he kept Eddie far away from the house for now. He hadn't told anyone about his newfound orientation or the fact that he was currently dating a man.

That could wait until they actually met Eddie and got to know him for real. For now, though, Steve entertained some of his younger cousins by taking them out to the arcade and some ice cream.

But soon enough, the Fourth arrived and the Harrington house was abuzz with activity. People were cooking inside and out and the younger ones were just waiting for it to heat up enough to jump in the pool. The official start time that Eddie was given was 11:30 so that was when he came. Right on the dot.

He knocked on the door and Steve answered, only to find his not-boyfriend once again.

"What're you wearing?", Steve asked, coming outside and shutting the door behind him so that they were both standing on the porch.

"I know what you're gonna say", Eddie started. He'd known since he looked himself in the mirror. He wear wearing a flannel shirt and blue jeans with no rips in them. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and to Steve's disappointment there were zero rings on his fingers.

Steve crossed his arms. "If you know, then why would you do this?"

"Just toning it down just a bit. I do want your family to like me."

"Aren't you always going on about forced conformity. And how we can't keep following societal norms when they can be so harmful?"

Eddie's eyes got big. "Babyyy", he grabbed Steve by the hips and pulled him in close to kiss his pout. "You are listening when I go on my rants."

"You're kinda hard to ignore, Eds. Now please tell me you have a change of clothes."

"I do. Help me change so we can be quick?"

Steve was normally helping Eddie undress in a hurry, not the other way around, but it wouldn't take long for someone to realize he was missing and see Eddie's van in the driveway and make the connection. So he went with him to the back of said van and helped him into something that was more 'Eddie' than what he currently had on.

Of course, hands wandered just a bit, they couldn't help it. But both were pretty focused on the actual task at hand.

Suddenly the doors to the back of the van opened and there was a 10 year old boy, catching Steve in the act of zipping (up!) Eddie's black, ripped jeans.

"Be cool, Bobby", Steve said.

"Mom!"

Not the best first impression to make with such impressionable eyes. But Steve ushered his cousin back inside, Eddie right behind them and the whole family right there as they came in through the front door.

"Hey, everyone", Steve greeted. "This is Eddie. My um-", he paused to clear his throat, feeling like he needed a drink. "He's my boyfriend. Eddie, this is everyone."

It felt like the longest silence of his life. And having so many eyes on him had never made Steve feel so vulnerable before.

"Oh", one of his aunts said. "Well your parents never told us-when you said you were dating someone we assumed-I-Diane?"

"Eddie's been very good to our Steve", Diane said. "So no one scare him off."

Eddie's new outfit had jeans with more personality, and a shirt with a band Steve knew about two songs from, neither that he'd play in front of this current crowd. His hair hung wild down his shoulders and his rings were back where they belonged. He was purely himself and if these people weren't into that, well, Steve had the full support of his parents at least. He just hoped the rest of his family would understand.

Diane was putting some pies in the oven for later when her sister approached.

"So you're fine with not having any grandchildren?"

"Steve and Eddie could adopt." Of course, she was mostly talking out of her ass. Gay marriage wasn't legal (yet) so gay adoption probably wasn't on the table. But she and her husband knew people who knew people.

Jonas was having his own conversation with his brother-in-law.

"I mean I sent my boy to boarding school from the 6th grade on and he never came home with a boyfriend. Somehow managed to sneak a girl in there too. And somehow in the middle of America, Steve found a-"

"A nice guy like Eddie?", Jonas interrupted while flipping a burger. "He's quite a find, but Steve can't take all the credit. Diane and I were actually the ones to find him."

"You found Steve a boyfriend?"

"We found Steve a steady boyfriend", Jonas emphasized. "You should've seen him going through girls like tissues, right Di?"

Diane was coming by with some more things for the grill. "Oh it was like a circus and Steve was driving around with a never ending clow car of girls."

"That bad, huh?", the uncle asked.

"Oh the girls were fine. It was just so many and he wanted him to get serious with someone."

Jonas nodded. "He and Eddie have been going strong since summer started."

"Guess it's a good thing if you don't need to pay a dowry. Who even is the girl in that relationship?", the uncle asked while watching both young men carrying tables to set up outside when the food was ready.

Steve could tell his parents were taking the brunt of the initial questioning and he promised to give them the best presents for the remainder of holidays of the year for it. He was able to introduce Eddie to his cousins. There were only a few as it was just his mom's side of the family with them this time. The youngest was Bobby and the oldest was just a year older than Steve.

After setting up the tables it was finally hot enough to justify jumping in the pool, which most of them did. As the resident captain of the swim team, Steve put on his trunks and performed his life guarding duty for the family while the adults cooked and set up other things while catching up, mostly about him.

Eddie was still fully dressed in his t-shirt and jeans, lounging on a pool chair while the rest of them splashed around. But he offered Steve a wolf whistle when he came out, dripping wet.

"Not even James Bond could resist", Eddie teased.

Steve came over to sit next to him, knowing the look in Eddie's eyes meant he was fighting every urge to get his hands on him. He grabbed a towel and dried his hair off a little.

"Any chance I'll see you in the pool? I've got extra trunks."

"You'll have to work a little harder than that to get me wet~", Eddie said in a low tone, their heads inclined together. Then Eddie remembered where they were and was about to pull back when Steve grabbed him by the back of his neck. "Stevie, people are probably looking."

"My nosy parents? Definitely. And anyone else can close their eyes if they don't wanna see."

And without anymore preamble, Steve brought him closer for a kiss. A quick thing, just a peck of the lips but still the most he'd gotten today with so many new people around them. Eddie was in a daze afterwards, it always took him a second to recover from Steve's kisses. When he did though, he remembered where they were and who could be watching.

Sure enough, when Eddie tore his eyes away from Steve's lovely face there was a whole crowd watching them, having stopped in whatever they were doing.

Eddie felt like he had ripped a bandaid off but was still bleeding underneath.

Part 8 FINAL

Tag Team

@tartarusknight @swimmingbirdrunningrock @estrellami-1 @potato-of-the-lord @dragonmama76 @m-owo-n @sticknpokelightningbolt @somegirlsomewhere @tinyplanet95 @samsoble @runniem @hallucinatedjosten @nburkhardt @littlewildflowerkitten @noctxrn-e @subversivecynic @larawrmonster @suikatto @platinum-sunset @imacowboy3 @tiny-enthusiast @netflixisacopingstrategymom @honorarybrit81 @manda-panda-monium @krazyperson @adaed5 @lololol-1234 @mrsjellymunson @uwujinniee @ellietheasexylibrarian

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 1

Propaganda under the cut

Alana Bloom

she kissed will graham in s1 and dated hannibal in s2 so you can imagine how bad the fandom is to her. fun fact she's in a canon lesbian relationship now tho <3

The show literally does the yaoi treatment of victimisation for the benefit of the male leads to her. And then the fandom mistreats her

I'm not sure if this even counts but...Literally a victim of Yaoi along with several other characters in-series, but she got it almost the worst. The entire show is just people dying because the two male leads are OBSESSED with each other and can't be normal about anything. Alana Bloom, actual PhD of psychology and consultant to the FBI, got kissed by one guy, fucked and fed people-meant by the other, and pushed out a window by the murder husbands' forced-surrogate daughter. Like. Actual victim of several crimes caused by yaoi. She's probably one of the few examples of a Yaoi Victim overcoming and evolving past her yaoi-related trauma into a stronger person/character, though: She gets an entire character overhaul and a hot, millionairess for a wife. She kills a man with an eel. She becomes head of the BSHCI, effectively putting her in complete power over her jackass cannibal ex-bf. She does quite well. Unfortunately, the rest of her screen time is spent trying not to get killed in the ongoing fallout of Hannibal and Will's fucked up courtship, but hey. Can't have everything. I don't even know if I'm saying anything valid here: the fandom loves her, but I supposed her position outside of the Hannigram relationship relegates her to a non-subject in a lot of Hannigram-focused fanwork. She's an 'obstacle' to their relationship only in the sense that Will had a crush on her once that went nowhere and Hannibal started an actual relationship with her SPECIFICALLY to piss off Will. I guess she's also a more literal obstacle as Hannibal's jailer and Will's friend who's constantly pointing out to him that Morals exist and he should try having some of those, maybe

Maya Fey

OKAY SO She's definitely NOT the love interest coz she's like 16 n he's 24 or smth but in literally all fandom she's just... the wingwoman. that's all. EVEN WHEN SHE'S IN A LESBIAN RELATIONSHIP IT'S IN THE BACKGROUND N SHE'S SUPPORTING THE YAOI GROWN ASS MEN..... it's horrible... detestable... she's a main character... she has ARCS..... and yet.. her own most popular ship tag is just.. her n her gf as background yuri who are supporting and wingwomaning the fucking main guys. it's a tragedy. Maya Fey would make Phoenix Wright buy her burgers everytime he made her listen to his love problems and then she'd tell him that every complaint he makes will cost another burger. SHE WOULD NEVER BE SUPPORTING YURI.. 

Phoenix’s best friend and partner in solving crimes. She often gets shunted aside by the fandom, reduced to Phoenix/Edgeworth cheerleader and matchmaker. 

okay i wouldnt say shes exactly mistreated, shes pretty well liked in the fandom, HOWEVER shes always seen as like an accessory to wrightworth, her only role being to make jokes about how in love they are etc. i feel like a lot of people ignore her depth and backstory to just use her as a tool in wrightworth stories. she plays a very important role in the games as well and has been through a lot, and has always been helpful to wright, so she deserves to be more than the setup to a joke about wrightworth

[violetmuses]

Feelin’ You - R. Reigns (College AU) 🖤

Title: Feelin’ You - R. Reigns (College AU) 🖤

Fandom: WWE

Character: Roman Reigns

Pairing: Roman Reigns + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Meeting Roman could change everything.

@expert-texpert @persethegawd @episodes-ff @adriennegabriella @fearlesschimera @secretlifeoofmarpessa @mytribalnightmare @adoresmiles @blackgurlnhermoods @babybratzmaraj 🏷

=====

2006

“Let's go!” During football season, Jimmy and Jey Uso could shout beyond words after finishing classes, always excited to support the team.

Your roommate Naomi almost sprinted down this hall while donning her cheer uniform, ready to leave. Other students welcomed excitement.

“See you soon, Nay!” You grinned while laughing as this shuttle pulled up and sent her group to the field once more.

_____

Almost growing up together, you first met Naomi after falling on the playground. Ever since that unexpected day moved forward, she would offer genuine kindness and still wanted to help you.

By high school graduation, both of you had earned well-deserved scholarships and remained inseparable as personal dreams kept shining.

Watching your sister rave up front, you followed every single routine by this point in time and chanted along, showing pride no matter what.

Just before halftime would take place, you glanced down and realized that Naomi chatted with one player.

The gridlock helmet lined up for school protected his face, but dark hair curled behind that large jersey. Your own questions picked up right away.

When this player stepped from Naomi and removed the helmet for a break, his side profile expressed an absolutely flawless grin.

Your heart flew beyond the sky located overhead when Naomi laughed with him and echoed happiness that you've known since childhood.

Did my best friend have an unexpected crush out here? Joyful thoughts wondered.

Sooner than later, Naomi turned and waved to you, offering the biggest smile. Sounds heightened, but you recognized movements of her lips.

‘We'll talk later.’ Naomi pointed between you and herself, winking before she walked back to formation alongside the vibrant cheer squad.

What's going on? You questioned this moment silently.

*****

Spooning ice cream from its carton after taking this shower, Naomi crashed on your bed in the dorm and started rambling with homework done.

“Are you two going on a date?” You laughed while enjoying your own treats and quietly mentioned the football player.

“No, girl! You know I'm in love with Jim.” Naomi gushed over Jimmy Uso for quite a while now.

“Oh! Your future husband?” You messed with Naomi this time.

“Of course! That's my man.” Her smile didn't even fade. “But let me tell you what happened on the field.”

“I'm listening.” You trashed garbage and returned to bed, invested while Naomi continued.

“His name is Roman and he's moved here from Florida.” Naomi painted details. “I guess his parents worked magic with school and now he's joined the football team.”

“That's cool. At least we won.” You say, definitely intrigued. “He's handsome.”

“Girl! I even told him about you.” Naomi almost giggled.

No! Both ears heated through embarrassment and you covered your mouth, surprised.

“Playing matchmaker again?” You quickly sighed out loud.

“No, but give Roman a chance someday.” Naomi settled down. “He's really sweet. If things don't work out though, I'll be here.”

“Deal.” Trusting her words, you took steps at your own pace.

******

“Big Dog!” Students cheered when Roman entered this classroom and tried to sit down for an upcoming lecture. The professor hadn't arrived yet.

“Alright. Hey, ya'll!” His Southern accent met true laughter as Roman topped sunglasses near dark hair and began to organize various essentials.

When this professor could start teaching as usual, Roman's mind drifted elsewhere.

Last weekend, Naomi yapped from the sidelines and gave Roman this much-needed chance to smile as fall weather chilled down every bone.

Soon, Naomi pointed toward the known bleachers and somehow mentioned her roommate, just chatting further until halftime would kick off.

Curious during the lecture, Roman “snuck” his phone beneath this long table and opened text messages, reaching out.

Roman: Who's your roommate? 👀

Shooting that question, Roman quickly glanced around and tucked this phone right back into place, ending his last class of the afternoon.

_____

Greeting Naomi and Jim as he reached the dining hall, Roman noticed someone else holding this meal and walking over, not sitting down just yet.

“Roman?” Naomi introduced both of you. “This is the roommate that l told you about. She's my best friend.”

Good God! You're so pretty. While seeing you up close, Roman's mind shook up.

“Hi.” You spoke first and quickly offered the most beautiful smile.

“Hey.” Pulling himself together, it's a miracle when Roman's muscled knees haven't given out. Your sweet voice doesn't help quiet nerves either.

Here we go.

_____

Sitting down as a group, small talk would carry dinner right now, but Roman can't help watching how you laugh by Jim and Naomi. This adorable sound would echo beyond his dreams tonight.

When the building closed until morning and everyone moved down this sidewalk together, Roman stayed aware of you, genuinely protective.

Moonlight welcomed another evening as dorms turned closer and closer.

“See y'all tomorrow. No class.” Jimmy topped one of his favorite hats while standing near this dorm.

“Don't be stupid. I'm right here.” Roman warned about fooling with Naomi in public, but you rolled both eyes and laughed again, distracting him.

“Bye!” Almost running away, Jim held Naomi's hand and headed somewhere, leaving you outdoors.

“Wait, Jim!” Roman scoffed and felt awkward as you stood nearby.

“They've always been wild, so I'm used to it.” You tried to help Roman out.

“We didn't talk much. Wanna go inside? It's cold out here.” Roman pointed to your building.

“Sure.” You met him by the entrance, but Roman opened that front door, leading through.

_______

Warming up by some miracle, heat circulated this lobby once you both sat down.

Peaceful silence gave Roman an opportunity to learn more details with each passing moment.

Just when you exchanged phone numbers and Ro would leave, thunder rumbled outside.

Damn. He thinks. I'm probably stuck until further notice.

Meanwhile, you texted Naomi several warnings just in case and even hoped Jim would circle back.

Other students dispersed from the lobby, gifting Roman more time with you as silence would start to pull between those incoming raindrops.

“Jimmy will pick you up in a little while.” You offered an update for Roman to be careful.

“Thanks.” Ro accepted your words and charged his phone here.

“You're welcome.” You ended this conversation and waited, just keeping your distance now.

******

When the truck arrived, Naomi dashed to this building and shivered with chills.

“I'm taking a shower.” Nay spoke by you and ignored Roman before heading to the elevator.

“Stay warm.” Facing Roman, you gathered essentials and moved in the same direction as Naomi.

“You too.” His accent won't drawl this time, but roots still lingered when Roman turned out the door.

*****

“How'd it go?” Jimmy returned to his apartment on campus and gathered snacks, questioning Roman about you.

“Not much happened.” Roman wouldn't even push boundaries.

“Hold up.” Jim scrunched up his face. “You didn't even ask her out?”

“Uh-uh.” Ro took one water bottle out of the fridge. “Now you're being a dumbass!”

“Man!”Jimmy tisked right back. “Naomi and I started dating before you even got here. What's wrong? Make a move.”

“Creeps don't win.” Roman defended himself. “I'm not scaring this girl just to make myself feel better.”

“Good point, Uce.” Jimmy dapped up Roman while grounding one of countless nicknames.

“Don't worry about me.” Ro chuckled and headed to the living room, settled at last.

******

Roman: Coming to the game? 🏈

You: Can't! I'm sick. 🤧

For the first time since exchanging your number, Roman pouted.

Dark weather lasted this week, but possible ailments reached out of nowhere and your status nearly bothered his own motivation for that game.

Roman: Feel better. 🫂

You: Thank you and I'll try. Give ‘em hell! 🏈🔥

Roman: Yes, Ma'am! 🫡💨

Your last ping jolted energy right back and Roman snatched this helmet, ready for war.

This time around, as long as you stood in the corner, he would move mountains.

______

Another downpour began to soak this football field when the team prevailed again and sheltered in that locker room. Thankful cheers resounded.

By the time Roman gathered his cell phone afterward, notifications pinged throughout.

Naomi ended up taking charge for once and warned that you'd fallen asleep during halftime, pretty much knocked out with this terrible cold.

Roman: Damn! Y'all need anything? 🥺

Naomi: No thanks! I stocked warm meals in the fridge and we have plenty of medicine. 🫂

Roman: All right, but still let me know. 🥺

Naomi: Got it! 💚

*****

Dodging outright medical attention, your cold settled down at last, but homework remained and you caught up after missing classes to recover.

Huddled in the library, you cornered textbooks and kept studying this afternoon, but one voice caught intrigue.

“Feeling better?” Roman's Southern accent pulled forward as usual.

“Yes. Thanks.” You addressed him without making eye contact and still jotted down notes.

“Missed you at the game.” Roman attempted once more.

“Y'all won again. Didn't skip much.” You clipped the response while trying to finish assignments.

“Sorry. Call me later?” Roman noticed the drop of your sweet voice and knew better, planning to leave you alone.

“Maybe another time.” You're exhausted as he distracts you.

“Okay, baby girl.” Roman offers this unexpected nickname and you almost freeze, surprised.

That slip never eased your thoughts when his voice deepened and curls then reached both temples. Subtle facial hair welcomed his jawline.

“Ro? Don't do that.” You turned away from the desk and gathered belongings, reaching limits now.

“What?” Almost towering beyond height, his weight anchored 280 pounds based on current stats with the football team. Your breath hitched.

“We're in public…” You tried. Shadows of his face locked down your presence without hesitation.

“I know.” His brown eyes struck and you nearly break, wanting to kiss an absolute stranger. “We need to talk, though. C'mon.”

Influenced by an unknown force, you trailed his steps and exit the library regardless.

______

Speaking in the lobby of your dorm that night, you have no other choice with Roman.

“Why care so much? You and I just met.” You folded both arms.

“Maybe I looked forward to seeing you at the game and colds aren't good.” Roman squinted, taking up this couch. “I shouldn't be concerned?”

“I appreciate it, but you don't need me standing every day for touchdowns.” Your words kept going, frustrated. “What do you want?”

“You.” Leaving the couch, Roman stood once more.

“Why? Riding with the football team isn't enough anymore?” You arched one brow. “Naomi told me that girls keep following.”

“Those girls don't even care. Matter of fact, you messed me up.” Roman tried to explain himself without yelling.

“How?” You questioned, just waiting to hear more and more.

“It took five seconds.” Roman lifted his dominant hand. “I'd rather think about you now.”

“I'm not that special. Goodbye, Roman.” Heading to your room, you leave him in the dust.

*******

Completing this group project, you exit your final class of the day and planned to hang out with Naomi, but Roman caught your steps in the hall.

“Hello.” You stayed cordial for so many reasons this afternoon.

“Hey. Who was that?” Despite his greeting, Roman brought up one of your classmates.

“Doesn't matter. We aced the assignment.” You briefly smiled.

“Ignoring me now?” Ro asked.

“I have plans with Naomi. Excuse me.” You turned away and Roman sighed, missing another chance.

_____

Heading out for dinner, Naomi chose this amazing restaurant and chatted all night with you, grateful to have free time during the hectic semester.

Taking dessert home, you giggled holding containers and walked down this hall with Naomi, but she paused when her cell phone rang.

“Roman?” Naomi questioned this man on the other line.

You squinted, definitely puzzled while entering the small home area with Naomi.

“Put her on the phone…” Exhaustion pained his voice when Roman looked for you.

_______

Taking Nay’s phone, you closed this bedroom door, giving Roman privacy.

“What's wrong?” You asked.

“I'm sorry for what happened.” Roman apologized. “How was your night? I miss you.”

“Thank you for apologizing, but don't start playing cute. I'm still mad.” You say.

“That makes sense, but I…” Roman struggled because of you, smitten and yet frustrated.

“I'll hang up. What's going on, Roman?” You put your foot down.

“I can't sleep, baby.” He slipped that nickname again and missed you in real time.

“Ro…” You hung up and returned this phone to Naomi, not calling Roman back.

[respectthepetty]

So, I saw your post about the JoongDunk, PondPhuwin, ForceBook ultimate gym bros bl. And I had a very important question.

If, hypothetically, gmmtv were to actually make this a thing. What would you want their color coding to be like? Even, how would you want their color coding to change as the fall in love?

Feel free to be as specific or generic as you like! I'm just very curious about the idea 👀

I have eighty million things to do, Anon, yet here I am, excited to answer this question, immediately! *pushes all my responsibilities to the side* There are no pictures because I'm being wild today and doing this from my WORK COMPUTER!

First, the premise of my Gym Bros BL, tentatively called

Flex Appeal

*I'm using the actors' names, but this is about their characters, not them. Force owns a gym. He has trainers Dunk, Joong, and Pond. Book and Phuwin work together at a food marketing company, so they eat a lot of snacks throughout the day. Phuwin wants to start working out and drags Book along. Dunk and Joong are super competitive, but it's all really them flirting with each other. Pond instantly likes Phuwin, but Phuwin thinks he is nothing but a meathead until he realizes Pond is super smart and kind. Book likes Force and starts bringing him tasty treats from the office during the workout sessions since he notices Force never leaves to eat properly. We could have cameos from other people who workout or companies trying to market their food. We could have Force trying to keep his business open, and Book helping him with marketing. WE COULD HAVE GYM QUEERS!

Now for the colors:

Dunk and Joong - Red Rascal and Green Guy. Dunk has the Red Rascal look aka beautiful. His character would always be up to some tomfoolery, and Joong as the chill Green Guy would always be down to join in on the shenanigans. I call them my troublesome tykes for a reason, and I think their natural personalities would easily lead to characters who are the matchmakers of the group too. Like constantly setting up situations for the other pairs to fall in love while unknowingly falling in love themselves.

Pond and Phuwin - Pond is a Blue Boy in this imagined series. He falls quickly for Phuwin and is devoted to winning him over. He is good with his hands and very intelligent when it comes to building, like say for props for an ad that Phuwin needs help with. Phuwin on the other hand is a Yellow/Orange Oddity. He is creative and works in the visuals area of the marketing department. He likes to talk and Pond likes to listen even if Pond doesn't understand it all. He wears glasses.

Force and Book - Give them the dark versus light dynamic. Force is a Brooding Boy, in black most of the time because his life has been rough, which is easy since it'll be black tanks, black shorts, black car. Yum. Then, Book is the Happy Human in his cream and white cardigans with khaki pants or some basic boy attire. Force will teach Book to take risks, and Book will open Force's heart!

Cameos:

Mix works at the company with Book and Phuwin, but he is a higher-up who we see three times. He mentions his boyfriend goes to this gym nearby, which gives the boys the idea to try it out.

Earth is the boyfriend who shows up occasionally at the gym. He never speaks. I just need to see his back tattoos.

Fourth and Gemini can play baby interns at the company who just randomly pop in with the wrong orders of coffee and the wrong mail for people.

Neo is an asshole from another rival gym who is a meathead and Phuwin's ex (see what I did there people who have been around since Neo x Phuwin?).

Louis works in the IT department, and we see him exactly once when Phuwin has to go ask for help with his work computer, and Louis notices an old picture of Phuwin with Neo on it.

Papang is the guy constantly getting hit on at the gym. It's a running joke throughout the show, but in the second-to-last episode, his HUSBAND shows up to drop off his phone since he left it at home, and it's revealed to be Mark, who appeared earlier in the season as an up-and-coming baker who the company is trying to woo, which is why Papang works out all the time since he loves his man's baked goods. Neither wears the ring because rings should not be worn when working out or baking.

Book convinces Mark to come out with a line of healthy after-workout snacks, Force is used as the model, and his gym sees a rise in customers since his gym is the only place to get these snacks, and EVERYONE WINS!

I have spent a lot of time thinking about my gym bros bl. I need it like I need air. These men are too built to let it go to waste. Film them in a gym. Just let the camera roll and half of the footage would be just them bs-ing with each other. It's a win-win for everyone involved including the audience.