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1x1x1x1x1x1x1x1 · 14 days ago

Note

What if the reader is a TV host? Like full on 'WELCOME TO THE SHOW' with bright luminous lights in the background kinda guy. you can take the liberty on whether they are a desperate attention seeker or a creepy Mandela catalogue kinda host. But it's just the reader is a big yapper with bright attention seeking colors.

I'm thinking the reader doesn't really know if their killing cuz their desensitized to the show biz and just think everything 'all part of the network folk!'

They might also be one of the worst killers because they are more used to being an omnipotent narrator then an in action kinda host.

I just think it be really funny if reader hits the survivors with the SPARKLE ON! IT'S WEDNESDAY! DON'T FORGET TO BE YOURSELF!!!

HEEEEEELP ME THIS IS SUCH A PEAK IDEA,, wow look at me doing my first both survivors and killers,, this is why this took so long btw 😭😭

ANYWAYS I KINDA MESSED UL THE BANNER SINCE YOU SAID BRIGHT COLORS BUT ILL WRITE FOR BRIGHT COLORS COUGH

defo ooc an typos but idrc 😭

coughs ENJOY

Forsaken Characters × TV Host!Killer!Reader

Noob

well,, they are definetly scared of you, like they are of everyone else that has a job to get rid of them all.

They're not wrong for it too, better be safe than sorry!

Although you are the killer that has probably caused the least harm to them, since your,, killing,, skills are a bit rusty

You randomly pause, come up to them, and ask random questions. Like you're still on stage.

Most of the time, they don't answer, quickly drinking a cola and running away as fast as they can.

Elliot

Hes,, pretty neutral about you.

Not really worried about you being a threat, since most of the time he can easily loop you.

You definitely greet him with something along the lines of "Hello pizza boy !!" With an almost mocking tone, and to be completely honest, he doesnt even mind at this point.

When you randomly ask him questions, most of the time he just ignores you and runs away to heal Chance (again,,)

But there are times when he does actually answer, just for giggles (and he has been wondering what happens if he does)

When he answers correctly, you play loud correct buzzer noises and money sounds which are REALLY obnoxious btw,,, and for the rest of the round, you mostly spare him.

And when he answers wrong,, well,, i think you know how that goes,

Shedletsky

Ah,, its not like he can complain.

It is refreshing to NOT have the creation of hatred targetting him the whole round and making his life a living hell.

And he does find your persona amusing

Probably one of the people that mostly plays along with your stupid gameshow questions, just for shits and giggles

So most of the time when he sees you are the killer, he just lets out a sigh of relief

Also youre easy to stun,,,,, but shhh we dont talk about that!!!

Guest 1337

Its all the same to him.

Wether or not you spare him, he WILL be stunning you and he WILL be protecting his team.

Deadass refuses to answer your questions. Will not be caught interacting with a killer that makes his life here a pain. (like all killers)

Although, you are one of the hardest killers to block-bait. You can pretty much tell right away trough his facade that he just wants to get that punch in. Hes not using that medkit since you didnt hit him. even once.

He doesnt like you. Why should he?? You play games with the minds of some survivors since they see you as 'chill'. He does not like this.

Two Time

i dont think anyone can really talk normaly to this insane motherfucker,

everytime you ask them any question 'for your gameshow' they just laugh manically before STABBING YOU.

Then running away and talking about some "praise the spawn" shit,,

i think the dislike most likely goes both ways

Chance

You and the gambler get along quite well, actually!!

Well, as much as a killer and survivor can even get along.

Everytime youre the killer hes the first to run to you, hoping you ask him one of those questions and he can just chill for the rest of the round if they gets it right.

Probably the one who answers you the most, and you have to respect the gambling,, some of your other tv shows basically involve it too, so yeah

I think they actually watched one of your tv shows a while back,,, so he probably recognized you,

007n7

He actually watched your TV shows and Gameshows before all of this (like the dad he is,,,,) so he recognized you pretty quickly

He was quite shocked when you first randomly decided to stop the chase and ask him a question.

He paused for like almost a minute, completely lost in thought before you went "Time is TICKING!!!" with your robotic voice

And then he answered, wrong.

Which meant he was getting locked onto, (he died like 30 seconds later)

Although, the next time you asked him again, he answered correctly!! And you just,, basically left him. Alone with his thoughts.

Well, he cant really complain, a break is nice once in a while

Builderman

Hes Builderman. The CEO of roblox. Of course he knew you.

Actually, he made a guest apperance in one of your episodes!! So he already knew you (well, kinda) before this.

And he cant really complain that much about your whole 'asking gameshow questions' thing, since most of the time he gets them right, and can help the teammates in peace.

Even though he doesnt always answer, when he does, he gets most of them right. Probably because more than a half of them are about Roblox and its history.

You like to call him your "NUMBER ONE!!!" and he has gotten MULTIPLE dirty looks for that, since some survivors now think you guys had something going on,, not good for his image and reputation. So he was pretty quick to dismiss those rumors,

Dusekkar

DUSEKKAAAAARRRRR🤤🤤

Well, he certaintly thinks youre intresting.

Not only are you asking him easy questions, but you will also spare him if he answers correctly? He cant really complain, huh

Youre quite persistent on asking him a lot of questions, 'gameshow' questions. Which are a piece of cake to him, although sometimes you cant really understand his phrasing quite well,, You just display a blue question mark on the top of your head out of nowhere, hoping that he can redeem himself before you decide that you dont want that answer to pass.

You also call him some stupid 'charmer' nicknames, something along the lines of "Pumpkin!!!!" or even sometimes Matt (since you heard Shedletsky call him that once,)

Hes actually quite shocked, even a bit flustered when he hears you call him by some names that you made up on the spot, or even his real name,

Taph

This fella,

He tries SO HARD to answer your questions correctly in his emoji speech ((i know a lot of ppl heacanon him as a sign language user but just for this fic im using his canon speech)), but you cant really understand it, so he never passes in your eyes,

He does like messing with you!! Youre probably one of the killers that falls for his traps the most out of everyone else

((i dont have anything else to say for him,,,,

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·Killers.

1×1×1×1｡𖦹°‧

You REALLY piss her off,

Bright flashing lights, loud sounds, and that fuckass voice of yours thats always cheerful,, it just gets on his nerves.

And the way you KEEP ASKING THOSE QUESTIONS. They rarely even answer, and she REALLY wants to get rid of you,

But he does entertain your little 'gameshow' vision sometimes, and most of the time, they answer correctly (they are a hater,, not an idiot,,)

Instead of you letting her go and not killing them like the survivors, the killers get little stupid prizes for answering correctly, and they dont really suffer any consequences if they answer wrong.

The prizes range from a stupid bright glittery pen with your face plastered over it, to just random stickers.

1x1x1x1 always keeps the little trinkets in a drawer in his cabin,, what?? you never know when they can come in handy!!

John Doe

as much as you try and try, and try and try and try to get him to even say one word when you ask him questions,, he just doesnt.

Probably cause he geniuenly cant,, the bright flashing lights of your design and your loud robotic voice,, he cant really comprehend what youre asking him in due time,,

Although, hes pretty neutral towards you, you even gave him a pen out of pure pity for him,,

Noli-.ᐟ.ᐟ

You guys actually match eachothers freak really well,,

Both of you guys are loud and obnoxious, bright lights,, and 'annoying' to the others

Although he actually likes your little gameshow host persona!!

The first time you were in a round, he was watching intently, and everytime you asked a question he would immediately stand up and scream the correct answer like a dad watching football,

He really likes answering your questions too!! It keeps him entertained at least,, And the little trinkets!!!!!

You guys actually get along quite well,

Mafioso🂱⚔

He doesnt like you.

Youre loud, bright lights, and obnoxious, while hes calm and reserved,, quite the opposites.

Although HE doesnt like you, his men definetly do!!

Most of the time they all meet up in the cabin next to the table for, basically a competetive game of your questions,

They get a good laugh out of it, and you love to entertain!

The only problem is how loud it gets, instead of big red buttons to signal who answers the question first, they basically just slam their fists on the table,

Mafioso has scolded them for it a bunch of times, but he wont stop them

Its only fair that they get a bit of a break in this hell hole once in a while

And hell, you keep them off his back for once, so maybe just maybe your not that bad after all,,,

im so done with tgis 💔💔

the writing got worse and worse as i went on because i was TIRED 💔

tgis was fun tho,, (also i had to rewrite everything in the killers part because i closed the fucking window,,

also quick question,,

would you guys like me to write for the Spectre too? 😭😭 As in like the headcanons and he would be in the last part of the killers kinda

okay bye bye

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tangerineastronaut · 5 months ago

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can you do a yunho reader thigh riding where shes his gf

Missed You | j.yunho

Pairing: Idol!Yunho x Nonceleb!Reader Genre: Smut/Fluff (MDNI) - mostly smut, very little fluff but still a main theme. Requested: Yes w.c. 3.5k Warnings: Thigh riding, established relationship, praise, slight degradation (nothing in a hateful way), size kink if you squint, namecalling, pet names, humping, I think that's it? If you notice any potentially triggering content not listed here please let me know. A/N: Hello lovelies ~ it feels so good to be back. I haven't written in a while but after browsing some of the amazing fanfic writers here it really made me miss it. Thank you to anon for my very first request! Also, this is poorly edited so please don't mind any errors. I will likely edit it in the future if I find any. Please excuse my rusty skills as well, I promise I'll get better! Requests: Open ~ please see the guidelines for requesting here.

5 months.

For 5 months, your gorgeous golden retriever boyfriend had been gone on tour, and you were expected to endure a meal with him and the members. They’d landed just hours ago and were no doubt exhausted, but Yunho looked as unfairly beautiful as ever. There were shadows under his eyes and he definitely seemed to be craving home, but the moment he’d spotted you when you walked into the restaurant…god. His tongue had slid over his lower lip, likely thinking about the way you taste, long fingers raking down his pants as if to stop the tingling spreading through him. He was wearing casual clothes, just a hoodie and a pair of jeans, but nothing could hide the art of his figure. Tall and lean, toned where it counts. His broad shoulders, his chest and stomach that you loved peppering with kisses. And those thighs.

You’d never really considered how sexy a man’s thighs were until you’d met Jeong Yunho. Muscular and thick, perfect for sitting on when he was in the mood to game for hours. Fine with you—was there anything more fun than teasing your lanky gamer boyfriend in the middle of a match? Squirming in his lap, making him fumble the controller and lose until you were bent in half, said boyfriend sinking into you?

Dinner.

Dinner dinner dinner.

You were proud of the boys and knew this was important, so despite wanting to jump his bones, you kept yourself in check and listened to the bickering between Woo and Jongho, beginning to wonder if Seonghwa had opted to dye his hair white to hide the grey caused by his children.

You were about to scold them yourself to give the poor Captain and His Wife™ a break, but a warm hand sliding up your thigh made the words die in your throat in an embarrassingly high pitched sound. You coughed to cover it up—thank god for Woo as no one was paying attention to you—and glanced up at Yunho.

“I missed you baby,” he hummed, low enough that only you could hear. His pretty lips formed a smirk that wasn’t as sweet as his words. You smiled up at him, placing your smaller hand on top of his and squeezing, silently begging him to leave you the fuck alone before you drag him to the bathroom.

“Missed you too,” you reply, making a visible effort to turn back to the conversation you weren’t part of.

You’d hoped he was just being coy, teasing you a bit, but he apparently wasn’t satisfied with your reaction as his hand slipped inward. He wasn’t far above your knee, but it didn’t matter, making you clamp your legs together and grip his wrist beneath the table. The smug bastard smiled, hiding it in his glass as he took a sip of water.

It was irritating, the mere fact that his large hand spanned much of your upper leg making you squirm. It was far too easy for him to rile you up, while he managed to maintain composure most of the time. You bit the inside of your cheek and released his wrist, your own hand moving to his lap. Yunho stiffened a bit, but that was it. You spread your fingers over his thigh, squeezing once before gently moving your hand side to side.

When he turned to San and casually asked about next week’s practice schedule, it felt like a slap to the face.

You’ve been dating for 3 years. You’ve fucked countless times on many, many surfaces. But when your fingers slid toward his crotch and found his cock already fully erect, you tore your hand away as though it had burned you. The bickering had died down, so to hide the flush on your face you took a sip of water. Yunho hadn’t even flinched, still conversing, unbothered, and wearing that cocky little grin.

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

You almost felt guilty about the buzz you felt as everyone began to say goodbye, promising to rest before work started up again next week. You could’ve sworn Yunho was purposefully talkative tonight, as you knew damn well he didn’t care whether or not Yeosang’s apartment had more than one elevator. By the time he was willing to humor you, you were all but vibrating next to the company’s black SUV, the driver waiting much more patiently than you.

Yunho had the audacity to ask if you were ready to go, his warm hand sliding over the small of your back. You nodded so quickly you were almost dizzy.

The SUV was quite tall, and you were…quite not. So when he opened the door for you, you prepared to climb inside ungracefully, but your boyfriend placed both hands on your hips and lifted you into the vehicle. You had no time to react, as he was climbing in after you. You prepared to shuffle across the seat to give him space, but he easily caught your wrist and yanked you across his lap. One hand gathered both of your wrists, the other resting calmly over your ass. You both glanced over at the same time to make sure the divider was closed.

“Someone’s horny,” he chuckled warmly, the hand on your ass moving in a slow circle. You frowned, tugging your wrists out of his grasp so you could sit up. Your hands found his shoulders and you swung a leg over his waist, straddling him but not letting your full weight rest against his cock just yet.

“Jeong fucking Yunho—I have been waiting 5 months for you and not just so you can grope me in a restaurant,” you grumble, fisting his hoodie.

“Technically speaking, all I did was touch your thigh. You, however, grabbed my—”

You shut him up with a kiss, mushing your mouth against his so hard you could feel your teeth pressing the inside of your lips. Yunho’s large hands found your waist, squeezing, trying to pull you down against his aching groin. You resist by using your knees, the grunt of irritation escaping him making you laugh.

“What’s funny?” Yunho asked, sucking your lower lip between his teeth. The shock made you gasp, and he used the opportunity to buck off of the seat of the car, hips meeting the plush underside of your ass.

Unwilling to let him win whatever the hell this was, you moved a knee between you, coming dangerously close to his clothed cock.

“Nothing, just my desperate boy acting like a dog,” you hum breathlessly. “All worked up, trying to call me out as the slut here.”

“You fucking—” Yunho grumbled. He wrapped both arms around you, crushing you against his chest and leaving you no choice but to straddle him again. This time, he hugged you tight; you could hardly breathe as he rutted against you so hard that it made you squeak.

You wanted to do more than pitifully submit, but you thanked the gods you’d decided to wear a dress, as each dry thrust pushed his cock right against your clothed clit. It was shameful how needy you felt, already able to feel a second heartbeat between your legs, the familiar ache as your cunt woke up from its 5 month hibernation.

“Thought about you every night,” Yunho groaned, his breath coming out in pants as he did all he could to create friction between your bodies. “You have no idea, baby. ‘m gonna fuck you until we pass out.”

“Yeah?” you manage to weakly spit out, your fingers curling into the material of his hoodie. You knew you should do more, give more, but your head was spinning, mouth dry from moments of contact after so long.

“Yeah. You’re gonna make those sounds for me, just like you did over the phone. Want you to say my name,” he says, his head falling back against the seat. “Fucking pillows…nothing looks as pretty as you.”

“P-Pillows?” you mumble, pulling back enough to look at him, his hips still working against your body. He licks his lips, eyes squinted as he looks over your face, nodding.

“Mm.”

“You…you fucked a pillow?”

“Mhm. ‘s soft and I can hold it down just like you, pretend it’s my girl taking me so good,” he rambles, not an ounce of shame in his tone.

Fuck.

You’d used fingers and toys, nothing doing what he could do for you. You assumed he used his hand—knew it, actually, based on the sparse dirty phone calls you’d managed to have. But the idea of Yunho, your gigantic boyfriend, desperately fucking against a pillow because it reminds him of you…it did something to you, woke something up that you were not proud of. You wanted to see it.

“Gonna hurt you…”

“H-huh?” you stammer, your cheeks flushing red despite your current state as you were caught daydreaming about Yunho and the poor pillow.

“It’s gonna hurt, baby. Need you wet,” he breathes. He reaches his hand between you, catching you off guard as he swipes beneath your panties, rubbing the sticky wetness of your cunt. You let out a broken moan, your hole clenching around nothing like muscle memory as you think of those long fingers pumping into you.

“I’m wet Yuyu,” you say, silently praying he gives you something, even just a finger to the first knuckle. But Yunho shakes his head, hands settled on your hips.

“Not enough…I’m telling you it’s going to hurt. Need you to cum first.”

“When we get home—”

“Now, y/n,” he says. His voice isn’t mean, not even commanding like it can be, but it still sends a shiver down your spine.

“O-Okay,” you mumble shyly, glancing back as if the driver might decide to open the divider. He didn’t, probably knowing better. “Use your fingers.”

“No,” Yunho mumbles. He easily manipulates your body until you’re perched atop one thigh. “Like this. Love it when you ride me.”

You exhale, situating yourself until your cunt is pressed against his jeans. Your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, and you meet his eyes as you begin to move, grinding against his leg. Yunho’s mouth opens, a gasped curse leaving his mouth as you lick your lips.

“Faster baby,” he murmurs, eyes trailing over you as you rut against him, “want you desperate. Want you to whine.”

“Fuck,” you say to no one, rolling your hips forward. Yunho grips the seat on either side of you both, fingers twitching like he wants to grab you and move you himself. But he just watches, licking his lips and nodding as you drive yourself to the edge on his thigh.

You feel him flex, the hardened muscle beneath you offering a firmness that makes you shudder. There’s a hotness between your legs as your juices coat his thigh, creating a wet patch on his jeans. After so many months, you’re sensitive, but unfamiliar with the movement as you struggle to hit the mark.

You falter, pausing to catch your breath.

“Don’t stop, baby,” Yunho says, his voice almost a whine. Your head falls forward on his shoulder, shame making your face warm.

“It’s been a while,” you mumble. “Sorry, yu.”

“Want me to help? Hm? Need me to make you feel good?” he whispers, lips catching your cheek. You nod weakly, fisting his hoodie again as his warm hands move to your waist, squeezing once before he begins to move you. Your body is like putty to him, and he grinds you down against his thigh like a doll.

“How’s that feel?” he asks, burying his face against your hair. You nod, unable to say much. He does it just right, somehow knowing your body better than you do.

Yunho reaches between you, hooking his thumb into the front of your panties and tugging them to the side. You gasp as your bare clit makes contact with his jeans, able to feel just how much you’d soaked through them. The thought makes you buck against him, catching the friction yourself with a choked gasp.

“That’s it, baby,” Yunho says, one hand going back to the seat while the other keeps your panties pulled to the side. “Like that. Let me see you use me to make that pretty cunt wet.”

“Fuck, Yunho,” you whimper, your hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm. He hums in approval, biting his lower lip hard as he watches you carefully. You groan and wrap both arms around his shoulders, squeezing your eyes closed as you grind hard against his thigh. The scent of his cologne is stronger now that he’s sweating, the smell making you dizzy and needy. You lower your head to his throat and kiss him there, tasting the saltiness of his skin while your tongue leaves a wet trail.

“There she is,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. You whimper and mouth at his skin, nipping and sucking as you work yourself to destruction on him. He groans as you latch onto his pulse point, using his free hand to grip your hair and pull you off of him.

“Be good,” he chuckles softly. You bite your lower lip, eyes wide and brows tight, hands moving up to scratch gently at the nape of his neck.

All it takes is a few seconds of you staring at him like that, still rutting helplessly against his thigh, needing to mark him up. Yunho sighs and leans back to get his hands between you, grabbing both his hoodie and shirt and tugging them over his head. His chest and stomach are revealed, your hands immediately palming at his skin. He nods and runs his thumb over your lower lip.

“Go ahead baby,” he hums. “Nothing above my collar bones, yeah?”

You nod obediently and kiss him softly, his lips plush and warm as always. You want to cry at the sensation of coming home, despite the fact that you were currently humping your hot boyfriend’s thigh during the longest car ride to your apartment ever.

You go for his shoulders first, you bite down and get your hips back into rhythm, relishing in his hiss of pain. Your teeth leave marks as you let go, breath hot against his skin.

Your nails leave half moon crescents as they work with your teeth, leaving a trail of love bites over the expanse of his chest. You’ve momentarily forgotten the goal here, though Yunho has no trouble reminding you. When you go in to kiss him again, he catches a fistful of your hair once more.

“You don’t want my cock going in like this,” he murmurs, free hand gently smacking your thigh. “Running out of time, babygirl.”

“I’m wet, Yunho,” you whine, bouncing in irritation. “Jus’ wanna kiss you. I can take it.”

Yunho stares at you for a few seconds, eyes trailing over your form where you’ve paused your movement.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Since when can you not take his cock? He was huge, sure, but it’s not like you’ll break.

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much?” he repeats, his hand slipping between you again. You try not to react as his thumb goes beneath your sticky panties, easily sliding over your swollen clit.

“All of it,” you scoff, unsure of what he was saying. Yunho smiles.

“No, I mean how much? How long can you take it? I’m not gonna stop, baby,” he says roughly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Gonna fuck you until you can’t move…still gonna fuck you until you ask me to stop.”

You pause at this, licking your lips and jolting at the heat sprouting from between your thighs.

“I-I can take it still,” you mumble, grinding down against his hand. He moves it, tugging your panties again, the cooled wetness of his jeans making you shiver.

“I’m gonna take my fill, baby,” he says, watching you move against his thigh. “Been practicing. Edging myself for months. Gotta make sure I use that pretty pussy until it’s wrecked and full of my cum.”

You squeak, your brain trying to think of a good response to that. Yunho chuckles and lifts his knee, making you involuntarily buck against him.

“You gonna shut up now and make sure you can do that for me? Get that little cunt wet enough so I can use it as much as I need to?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer. His dark eyes drop to see the result of your grinding, the wetness beneath you.

“Good girl,” Yunho nods. “Come on. Harder baby, need you to make a mess on my jeans.”

You do as he asks, grinding hard against his thigh, biting your lower lip as he alternates, flexing and relaxing the muscle beneath you. You move your hand to his and push it away, tugging your panties aside in one hand and gripping his shoulder with the other, looking down with parted lips because holy shit—you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet.

He feels so fucking good, there’s so much more you need from him, want to do for him, but you promised you’d cum. So you rub and grind and clench your teeth until you’re mumbling incoherently, much to his delight.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So fucking pretty and stupid when she gets desperate, can’t understand a word you’re saying,” he says, hands finding your waist. You sob and begin clumsily rutting against him, no rhythm whatsoever, just desperation and chasing physical sensations. Yunho loves to see it, coaxing you over the edge the closer you get.

“That all you’ve been thinking about, baby? All your holes getting stuffed? Bet you miss waking me up with my cock in your throat.”

You whimper and nod, eyes shut tight as your orgasm remains just out of reach. You need him to do it, to finish you off, you’re not sure what that would be, just that you want him to help.

“M-More yu, gimme more,” you whine softly, mouth open like a dog as you pant.

“More? More what? I haven’t given you anything, babygirl,” he chuckles. You’re not in the mood to play with words, but Yunho suddenly grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. You feel the burn of tears as you squirm and rut, his eyes full of satisfaction.

“You still gonna ask for more when I’m stuffed inside you?” he asks roughly. You nod eagerly, but Yunho only smirks.

“Knew you would, baby. Such a fucking slut for me. I tell you to ride me and here you are, too needy to realize we would’ve been home half an hour ago.”

“H-Huh?” you mumble out, that knot in your stomach untwisting. “F-Fuck, ‘m… g-gonna—”

“Gonna what? Ruin my jeans with your pretty pussy? All so I can get my cock inside as soon as I get you home?”

“Yunho,” you sob, a gasp on your lips as you begin to cum, eyes squeezing shut.

You ride out one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, mouth open, nothing coming out but pitiful squeaks and choked sobs. Yunho watches, lip caught between his teeth, holding you tight as you briefly leave this plane of existence in his arms.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes when you finally open your eyes, releasing a mixture between a cry and a sigh. “My good girl. I’m the luckiest man on this planet, baby.”

You choose to breathe rather than respond, but he’s fine with that, hugging you to his bare chest and cupping the back of your head.

“I love you so much, you know that?” he says, words muffled as he speaks against your hair. “Can’t wait to get you home. Gonna show you how much I missed you.”

He runs his fingers through your damp hair. You know you look wrecked already, and you’ll be shocked if you last more than one round tonight. But you’ll try for him.

“M-Missed you too, yuyu,” you weakly reply. “Why…why aren’t we home?”

Yunho laughs, brushing your hair back to kiss your temple.

“Arranged for us to ride around for a bit beforehand. Figured one of us would cave at the restaurant,” he admits. You look up at him, the stupid boyish grin on his face making you smile.

“I love you,” you huff. He leans down, lips soft and unhurried against yours for what feels like the first time that night. He tastes no different, feels no different than he did 5 months ago, and it livens you up a bit, much to his amusement.

“I love you too, pretty.”

1K notes · View notes

ozzgin · 2 years ago

Note

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective. In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words! Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out. Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

#female reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere fic #yandere lawyer #tw yandere #yandere oc #yandere original character #original work #👘 anon

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romerona · 6 months ago

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The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

The meeting of Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Headcanons.

The day had been long, and Carmy was just trying to keep it together. He’d left The Bear earlier than usual—if you could call "earlier" 9 p.m.—and was heading upstairs to his apartment with a bag of takeout that was far less exciting than anything he cooked in the kitchen. His mind was still buzzing with half-finished ideas for new recipes and the stress of balancing the books. It wasn’t until he rounded the corner in the hallway that he saw you.

You were crouched on the floor outside the apartment next to his, wrestling with a particularly heavy box. A burst of bright, patterned fabric caught his eye—it was your socks. Your jeans were rolled up messily, revealing mismatched socks peeking out of your sneakers, and a stubborn strand of hair that kept falling to your face. You didn’t seem to notice him at first, too focused on trying to angle the box through the doorway.

“Uh, you need a hand?” Carmy asked, his voice quiet and even, as if he wasn’t entirely sure you’d hear him.

You startled slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. A man—tall, with a mop of messy blond hair, tired blue eyes, and a hoodie that had definitely seen better days—stood a few steps away. He looked a little rough around the edges, like he’d just stepped out of a 12-hour shift. And, unbeknownst to you, he had.

For a moment, you seemed unsure whether to accept, but then you huffed, brushing your hair out of your face. “Honestly? Yes. Please. I think this box is plotting my downfall.”

Carmy set his takeout on the floor and stepped over. He crouched down beside you, studying the situation. “What’s in here? Bricks?”

You laughed, the sound warm and full, and it caught him off guard. “Close enough—books. I hoard them like a dragon.”

He smirked faintly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. Without another word, he lifted the box with relative ease, surprising you with how quickly he maneuvered it through your doorway. “Where do you want it?”

“Anywhere that’s not the hallway,” you said with a grin, stepping aside to let him pass. “But if you want to put it by the window, I won’t stop you.”

Carmy carried the box to the corner you pointed to, but as he turned back, his eyes lingered on you longer than he intended. Standing amidst the chaos of your half-unpacked apartment, you looked effortlessly natural—strands of hair falling loose, a faint smile on your lips, and a light, easy confidence that made the mess around you seem insignificant. The light caught your cheekbone, highlighting your warm, colorful presence, a stark contrast to the muted tones he was used to. The room was already full of little glimpses of your personality—colorful throw pillows piled on a couch, a small vase of fresh flowers on the windowsill, and a stack of what looked like hand-painted signs propped against the wall.

“Thanks for that,” you said, breaking his train of thought. “I owe you one.”

Carmy couldn’t help but think how effortlessly pretty you were, though he kept the thought to himself, letting it settle quietly in the back of his mind.

He shrugged, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You just saved me from throwing my back out. That’s definitely worth at least a plate of cookies or something.”

Carmy opened his mouth to respond, but you kept going, your energy bright and fast-paced. “Wait—are you my neighbor? Please tell me you’re not just some random guy who walked by and felt bad for me.”

“Uh, yeah,” Carmy said, scratching the back of his neck. “I live next door.”

Your face lit up. “Oh, good. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you...?”

“Carmen,” he said. “Carmy.”

“Carmy,” you repeated, testing it out. “Alright, Carmy-next-door. Thanks for the rescue.”

He nodded awkwardly, his social skills feeling a little rusty. “Yeah. No problem.”

-----

Carmy was just about to head out for his usual coffee run before work when the knock came at his door. He hesitated for a moment, not used to anyone knocking on his door—especially not at this hour. He opened it cautiously, and there you were, standing on the other side, holding a plate covered in plastic wrap.

“Hey!” you said brightly, flashing him the kind of smile that felt a little too sunny for such an early hour. You hold the plate out toward him. "These are for you. My way of saying thanks for saving me from a very undignified fate yesterday.”

“You weren’t kidding,” he said, glancing down at the plate.

“Never joke about cookies,” you said solemnly, holding them out to him.

Carmy hesitated for a moment before taking the plate, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“Uh thanks,” he said simply, his tone soft but sincere.

You tilted your head, your smile softening into something a little teasing. “That’s it? ‘Uh, thanks’? No ‘wow, these look amazing,’ or ‘you didn’t have to, Y/N, you’re too kind’?”

A chuckle escaped him before he could stop it, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small, genuine smile. “Alright, fine. Wow, these look amazing. And you didn’t have to.”

“Much better,” you said, nodding approvingly. “I knew you had it in you, Carmy-next-door.”

“Carmy-next-door?” he repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You didn’t tell me your last name, so I had to come up with something. If you’d prefer something fancier, we could workshop it.”

He shook his head, amused. “Carmy-next-door’s fine.”

There was a brief pause, and Carmy shifted slightly, unsure of what to do next. Social interactions outside of a kitchen weren’t exactly his strong suit, but something about the way you stood there, so at ease, made him want to keep talking. “Peanut butter?”

“Yep. I hope you’re not allergic or I might feel terrible for accidentally murdering my new neighbor.”

“No allergies,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “They look... good.”

“They taste better,” you replied confidently, rocking back on your heels. “You’ll see.”

Carmy stared at the plate in his hands for a moment, then back at you. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of you yet—this whirlwind of color and brightness that seemed to completely contrast his muted world.

“You uh-bake a lot?” he asked, his voice quieter now, curious despite himself.

You laughed, and the sound made something in his chest loosen. “Not really. I’m more of a ‘wing it and hope for the best’ kind of baker. Which, coincidentally, is also my teaching style.”

That caught his attention. “Teaching?”

“Yep. Fourth grade at Abbott Elementary,” you said, a note of pride in your voice. “You ever try to teach ten-year-olds about fractions? It’s like trying to train cute little squirrels to sit still.”

Carmy huffed another laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Can’t say I have.”

“You’re lucky,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest. “Anyway, I should let you get back to... whatever it is you were doing. But enjoy the cookies. They’re my signature recipe.”

“Signature?” Carmy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep,” you said with a playful smirk. “Passed down from the great culinary masterminds of my family. By which I mean, I Googled it five years ago and have been winging it ever since."

Carmy let out a quiet laugh, glancing back toward his apartment. For a moment, he considered inviting you in, but the idea of it felt… too sudden. Too much. Instead, he took a step back toward the door, holding up the plate as a gesture of gratitude. “I’ll let you know how they are.”

“Oh, it will,” you said confidently, already backing toward your apartment. “See you around, Carmy-next-door.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, watching as you disappeared back into your apartment, leaving him standing in the doorway with a plate of cookies in his hands and a strange sense of warmth in his chest.

-------

The plate of cookies sat on Carmy’s desk in the cluttered back office at The Bear, their presence almost mocking him. He’d brought them along in the rush of the morning, figuring he might as well snack on them during the chaos of his day. But, as usual, the day had taken over—prep work, managing the team, putting out fires both literal and figurative—and by the time he finally sat down, the cookies were still untouched.

Richie, after coming into his office asking about the butter delivery for tomorrow, noticed the cookies on the table.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, pointing to the plate with an incredulous look. “Since when do you bake cookies?”

Carmy looked up from his paperwork, deadpan.“They’re from my neighbor. She brought them over as a thank-you for helping her move a box.”

Richie snorted, picking one up without waiting for permission. “Your neighbor? What is this, a fucking Hallmark movie?”

“Can you just eat the cookie and shut up?” Carmy said, though his tone was more resigned than annoyed, as he leaned back into his chair.

Richie took a dramatic bite, his eyebrows raising in exaggerated surprise. “Damn. These are actually good. Who’s this neighbor of yours? She running a bakery or something?”

“No,” Carmy said, shaking his head. “She’s a teacher.”

Richie blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. “A teacher who bakes like this? That's a keeper. Because these cookies are better than anything Marcus has cranked out lately.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Carmy muttered, grabbing a cookie for himself.

They were soft, perfectly sweetened, with just the right amount of salt to balance the flavor. He wasn’t expecting much when you’d handed him the plate earlier, but now... now he understood why you’d been so confident.

He finished the cookie quickly, his mind already drifting to thoughts of you. He could picture the way you’d smiled when you handed him the plate, the playful glint in your eyes when you teased him. He wasn’t used to people being so... warm. So open. It felt unfamiliar, but not in a bad way.

Richie leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “Seriously, though, what’s the deal? She single? Maybe I should swing by, introduce myself. Could use some homemade cookies in my life.”

Carmy shot him a warning look, though his tone remained light. "Just get out of here, Richie,"

Richie chuckled, grabbing another cookie as he walked out. “Hey, if she makes more of these, tell her I’ll marry her. Hell, I’ll even carry her boxes next time.”

Carmy shook his head, staring at the now half-empty plate of cookies. For a moment, he considered texting you to tell you how good they were, but he didn’t have your number. Instead, he made a mental note to return the favor—something different than cookies.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he cared so much, but as he reached for one last cookie, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

-----

It had been two days since you’d dropped off the plate of cookies as a thank-you for Carmy helping you with your move. You didn’t expect much in return—maybe just a polite nod in the hallway or, at most, an offhanded “thanks.” That was the kind of vibe you got from Carmy: quiet, reserved, polite but not overly forthcoming or social.

So, when there was a knock at your door that evening, you weren’t expecting to find him standing there, holding a small brown takeout box.

“Carmy-next-door,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, as his eyes flicked between her face and the container in his hands. “Uh, thought I’d return the favor."

Your eyes flicked to the container, and you tilted your head curiously. “Return the favor?”

"For the cookies.”

You blinked, glancing down at the box in his hands. It wasn’t your typical store-bought takeout container—this one looked nicer, almost custom-made. You tilted your head slightly, curious. “What’s this?”

“Just something I made,” he said, shrugging one shoulder like it was no big deal. “Nothing fancy.”

You smiled, reaching out to take the box from him. “Wait, so you’re telling me you cook? Like, professionally?”

Carmy hesitated for a moment, clearly debating how much to say. “Yeah. I’m a chef.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Like... a real chef? Not just someone who’s really good at making grilled cheese?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. A real chef. But I do make a mean grilled cheese.”

“Well, color me impressed,” you laugh, holding up the box like it was a prized treasure. “What’s in here? Or is it a secret?”

“Braised short ribs,” he said, shifting his weight slightly. “With some potato puree and roasted vegetables. It’s... leftovers from a test recipe.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “You're giving me that as a thank-you for cookies?”

He shrugged again, his gaze flicking away. “Figured it was better than just saying ‘thanks.’"

You laughed softly, leaning against the doorframe. “Well, now I feel like I need to bake you an entire cake or something. Cookies don’t seem like enough anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “You didn’t have to bring me anything in the first place.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have discovered that my new neighbor is secretly a culinary genius,” you teased, watching as his cheeks seemed to tint just slightly pink.

“Not a genius,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just... a chef.”

“Well, Chef Carmy, you’ve officially raised the bar for neighborly exchanges,” you said, grinning.

A small, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. “Just enjoy it.”

She studied him for a beat longer, the way he seemed both completely comfortable and slightly out of place at the same time. “Well, thanks, Carmy. I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding slightly. “You do that.”

Carmy turned to leave, but before he reached his apartment, you called after him, your voice light and teasing.

"Hey, Carmy-next-door!"

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder, a curious expression on his face.

"Is this some kind of competition now? Because if it is, my next thank-you might have to involve actual fireworks."

He gave a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that widened your smile. "It's not."

You laughed, the sound brightening the hallway. "Well, it is now," you declared, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I’m not going down without a fight."

"Looking forward to it," he murmured, shaking his head, his smile lingering as he turned and disappeared into his apartment

You stood in the doorway for a moment, still holding the box, a warm feeling spreading through you. There was something about him—quiet but deeply thoughtful—that made you feel like you’d just scratched the surface of who he really was.

You carried the box into your kitchen, setting it carefully on the counter. The smell alone was enough to make your mouth water, but you didn’t open it right away. Instead, you poured yourself a glass of wine and took a seat, savoring the anticipation. And as you finally took your first bite, you couldn’t help but think: maybe moving into this building was the best decision you’d made in a long time.

Hope you enjoy it!!!! <3

Part 3??

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #reader-insert #reader insert #the bear #abbott elementary #abbott elementary x reader

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bunnywithablog · 7 months ago

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Hi! I saw that requests were open, so I wonder... can I request an imagine or headcanons (whatever you're more comfortable doing) about Legosi falling for a carnivore s/o and struggling with that after being so sure to be attracted to herbivores only please??

my writing chops are a bit rusty so please excuse me if this feels a bit off 😭 i had lots of fun writing it though!! if anyone is interested in a part 2, please let me know! i think it's a cool concept to explore and would love to do more with this >:) thank's for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

requests | rules | masterlist

pairing: Beastars - legoshi x carnivore!gn!reader - feeling conflicted over falling for a carnivore hc’s

warnings: internalized ...species-phobia??, brief locker-room talk from bill, implied love triangle if you squint

- now this just threw him for an absolute loop

- i mean, sure legoshi has always been more than capable of recognizing when a carnivore would be considered conventionally attractive

- but to actually FEEL attracted to them himself???

- manages to convince himself that maybe he just really likes you,,,,as a fellow peer?

- why else would he feel so strongly towards you?

- it had to be some pack-mentality science! yeah, definitely! 🤔

- but it's hard to ignore the way his ears perk at the sound of your voice during class

- or the slight wag of his tail when he catches your scent in the hallways

- or how his heart seems to stop whenever you look in his direction,,,, 💗

- it's like you were sent into his life specifically to shake him up, it's so confusing!

- so his best solution to this? avoiding you entirely.

- outta sight outta mind 🫡

- sitting extremely far away from your spot in classes, changing which hallway routes he takes, getting to and leaving the cafeteria way before/after you

- it's a perfect plan, really!

- except you don't leave his mind

- no matter where he is or what he's doing, images and questions about you creep into his thoughts

- 'what do they like to do in their free time? they have a really pretty smile, i bet it attracts a lot of people... are they interested in dating right now? would they even be interested in a grey wolf, for that matter? how do they keep their fur looking so soft?'

- he even makes more time to hang around with haru to try reinforce his established attraction to just herbivores

- the only thing this really achieves is sending him into a spiral about how he's attracted to two different people now

- and when you get scouted into the drama club as one of the dancers, it's even harder to keep you out of his sight

- starts making slip-ups with angling the lighting correctly since his focus can't help but shift to you during rehearsals

- the others in the backstage crew actually start asking if he's alright because he never makes this many mistakes

- he thinks every movement you make is so graceful, controlled and confident,,,

- it's a testament to the way you own your strengths and effortlessly channel them into your skills; it makes it undeniably alluring to watch the way you move

- wait! no! it's normal for most carnivores to be good at the physical arts so it's not attraction, just admiration for how good you are!

- denial is a river in egypt,,,,

- this cycle goes on for quite some time until the first dress rehearsal

- "oh man, did you see how good [name] looks out there in their costume? what a hot bod, especially doing all those poses and bends during the dance routine! heh, what i'd do to get a piece of that... huh? hey, legoshi, what's got you all wound-up?"

- hearing bill talk about you like that and subsequently having to hold back from hurtling a mean punch his way, legoshi finally accepted that this was a feeling he had to address 💀

- despite the borderline obsessive pull toward you, he realizes he doesn't actually know you beyond being classmates and drama club members together

- eventually concludes the best course of action is to formally introduce himself and hopefully spend some time together

- figures it's also a good way to see if these feelings grow or fade the more he gets to know you, maybe it really is just some carnivore pack-mentality thing!

- best-case scenario is that he just really wanted to be friends with you so he can continue pursuing haru without worry, but only time will tell now...

enjoy what i write? consider helping with my transition! 💕

#beastars #beastars x reader #beastars x gn reader #beastars legoshi x reader #beastars legoshi x gn reader #legoshi x reader #legoshi x gn reader #x gn reader #x carnivore reader #romantic #strangers to friends #strangers to lovers #implied love triangle

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sunnami · 2 years ago

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you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate.

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months.

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room.

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them.

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them.

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.)

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees.

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends.

That was absurd.

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed.

Maybe you’d try Severus next.

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?”

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.”

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered.

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares.

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius.

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.”

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.”

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.”

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.”

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins.

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.)

Something stirred deep in your belly.

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.”

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head.

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.”

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart.

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily.

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat.

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.”

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words.

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder.

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.”

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression.

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization.

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends.

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship.

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself.

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace.

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise.

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it.

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs.

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests.

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.”

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.”

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.”

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.”

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed.

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses.

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?”

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.”

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat.

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.”

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.”

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone.

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too.

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own.

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook.

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!”

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.”

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.”

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.”

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them.

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder.

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender.

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?”

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?”

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.”

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob.

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much.

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.”

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready.

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes.

Did you have a place with them?

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.)

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you.

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you.

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month.

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist.

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain.

(You made him feel unafraid of the moon.)

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this.

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested.

“Because you don’t feel the same.”

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along.

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss.

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory.

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.”

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.”

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.”

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.”

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.”

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?”

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.”

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips.

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath.

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.”

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own.

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.

#james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #lily evans x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #reader insert #marauders imagine #hp fluff #hp angst #marauders fluff #marauders angst

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thankyoulovely · 25 days ago

Text

squabble — arthurtv

you dislike confrontation, and there is a misunderstanding with a certain minion

just trying out something new. inspired by chris' soccer saturday video. some sentences might be clunky, my bad! my fanfic writing is quite rusty. no use of y/n!

fluff, angst, happy ending :>, ~4.5k words

You really didn't like confrontation.

You had had your fair share of conflicts, but nothing too major. If you could avoid it, you did. You didn't understand getting in meaningless fights. Even if others managed to get into ugly disputes, it made your anxiety go through the roof. So, you would just ignore it.

Today, it felt like it was going to be unavoidable.

Chris invited you to join them in his Soccer Saturday video, to keep Becky some company and have fun with your mates. This wasn't your first time on camera, but it would be your first appearance on Chris's channel.

Befriending them was just a random coincidence. You had briefly met Liv, Bach's girlfriend, on a night out a year ago. You had lost your phone and she helped you find it. You talked for a bit until you had to leave with your own friend group in a hurry. When you got home, you realised you never asked for her name or socials. Four days later, you bumped into her on the tube and after talking with her a bit, you finally had the courage to ask for her Instagram so you could keep in contact with her. This was out of your comfort zone, but she seemed really cool - and you thought you needed to socialise more anyway. When getting off your stop and checking your phone, you saw the notification - she followed you on Instagram.

From there, you guys would talk to each other on socials ever so often. A month later, she invited you to the pub to meet her boyfriend and friends.

Honestly, you thought you were really awkward that night. There were suddenly so many new people - Isaac, Flo, George, Arthur Hill, Chris, ArthurTV, Becky - who all were interested in getting to know you. Liv convinced you that the night went great and you had nothing to worry about. Clearly she was correct, as you would consider them all your good friends now.

As time went on, the more comfortable you got on camera. Your first time was definitely awkward, as you and George reacted to X Factor. The next time you partook in playing Fortnite with George and both Arthurs, showing off your rusty skills you had developed during quarantine. You were meant to be in a ChrisMD video playing football earlier, but chickened out. Now, there was no escape. Chris insisted on you joining "the legends" for a fun night out somewhere in England.

You do admit the obvious - they are all good-looking. This tipsy confession is not the first time you have admitted this, but realised as soon as you met them. It felt like a ruse. How can they all be handsome and blessed with lovely personalities? In this day and age, it seemed impossible - but the five men in front of you proved otherwise.

Arthur especially had caught your eye. You could relate to his silences during night-outs, knowing the feeling of your social battery running out. Even if you weren't as knowledgeable on some topics as he was, you still listened to his rants and gave your own opinions as well. He really appreciated your opinion.

Your appearance on the Bach & Arthur Podcast is one of your recent favourite memories. You had been really nervous to just sit in front of multiple cameras for 90 minutes and.. talk about yourself. It felt unfamiliar. Arthur helped you alleviate your nerves.

"I promise it isn't as bad as it may seem. I know you're here for just one episode, but you get used to it. And, I have it all structured anyway. No awkward silences unless you make them."

You huffed with a smile, "Thanks, now I will accidentally shut up every time out of pressure."

He laughs and pushes your knee lightly, "I won't let that happen. You will do great."

And you did. You genuinely had such a great time fooling around with Isaac and discussing sea otters with Arthur. If you hadn't acknowledged your crush on Arthur before it, you definitely had after it.

You really liked him. And you thought he liked you too.

Helping him for dates definitely bummed you out a bit, but you didn't let it show. You thought this feeling would pass at one point. Months passed, and it just didn't. You had to navigate your feelings to ensure your friendship would remain unharmed. So far, it was successful.

As you were finally getting off the train, you couldn't help but sneak a peek at him. Looking at him, you realised he had done the same. You both smiled.

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

When the cameras weren't on you anymore, you dropped your head into your hands. You were incredibly tipsy, bordering on drunk. You felt Becky hold you from behind. She was drunkenly yelling gibberish to no one. When she stops, she starts swaying you from side to side, now opting to talk quieter into your ear.

"You alright, love?" she manages to squeeze a hiccup in-between her words.

You let your tipsy self sway along with her, smiling ear to ear, "I am quite alright, darling," you try to face her as you roll your r's. You notice the camera is on the both of you.

You turn around, Becky's hands now holding your upper arms, "Where is everyone?" you ask her.

Becky starts to point behind you when you hear Arthur yell "OH MY GOD" and walk towards an alley with Isaac and the cameraman. You both giggle as you lightly jog to see what the commotion is about.

As you approach, you hear barking and Arthur asking whether they can take a selfie with a local's dog for the bingo game the group were meant to play. He is so goddamn polite and cute. Arthur and Isaac are petting the dog as you both pose for the group photo.

You're crouching in-between Arthur and Isaac, trying to hold your peace sign and not fall over on the dog. Unexpectedly, Arthur puts his hand on your shoulder to stabilise you, which makes your heart skip a beat. After the crew takes the picture, Arthur tries to lightly push you to the ground. However, you didn't fall over and pushed him instead.

Becky and Isaac double over in laughter as Arthur makes a dramatic fall to the ground. In an unsuccessful attempt, you're holding back yours.

Arthur covers his face with his hands in embarrassment. You give him a hand to pull him up from the ground. Again, he tries to pull you on the ground, but his hand slips and he thumps against the ground, letting out a laugh.

"Oi! Behave now!" Isaac jokingly yells, as him and Becky were already walking back towards the street. This time, Arthur thankfully pulls himself up with your help.

Walking out of the street, you slightly lean into Arthur.

"What were you even attempting to do?" you laugh out.

He starts laughing again, and you glance at his face. His laugh, his smile, his perfume - they're all making you weak in the knees.

"Was that not obvious? I-" he breaks into laughter again, "I wanted you to stumble! Are you stapled to the ground or something?"

The alcohol in you makes you brave enough to pull off a smirk at him, "I think you just suck," and you face Isaac as you guys decide to find the rest of the guys.

Arthur and Becky fell into conversation - you could hear him mentioning the dog - and you looked at Isaac, who was mumbling nonsense into the camera. He notices you standing next to him and stops whatever strange thought he had performed for the camera.

"Right, how are you? Is Arthur being too weird?" he asks in a playful manner.

You riff off of his banter, "When isn't he weird?", and he fake giggles for the camera.

"In all seriousness, the alcohol is hitting, but-", you hiccup, "I'm fine. And I love you all."

Isaac awws sarcastically, but you could tell that he kind of meant it.

In the midst of this, you walk past a couple dressed up as minions. You ignore them and keep walking down the street, immediately catching on that they're not as chill as they may seem. They had caused some sort of ruckus already with other people next to them. You look behind you to see Isaac looking at them and the others spotting them as well.

You recognise Arthur's voice from afar shouting "Oh my god, it's a minion- what the fuck!"

This makes you cringe. Why is he unnecessarily reacting to them like that? Did he have to say something? You were aware that this man liked to put people in uncomfortable social situations for his own amusement, but a random couple in a costume in Doncaster late into the night seemed to be the wrong crowd to entertain.

You catch Isaac suddenly talking to them, trying to calm the man down as Arthur adds irrelevant adlibs - "It's a grumpy minion!" - to the already out-of-control situation.

Barely seconds pass and the situation gets worse. You feel your anxiety rising in your lungs, all the way up your throat. You shut your eyes, trying to ignore the squabble.

You didn't need to see that something got more out of hand. You hear the crew get involved and Arthur's voice still shines through it all.

You really hated confrontations. Even if you weren't involved.

At this point, you are panicking way more than you probably should. You feel like you can't breathe, and you couldn't stay here. So you just sprinted down the street, hoping to catch the other guys and a peaceful setting. You don't hear the crew and Isaac shouting your name.

Through your very slightly teary eyes, you catch sight of cameras and bright lights, knowing that they must belong to the group. You quickly swipe your fingers under your eyes to wipe any tears and you approach George first.

He instantly knows something is off, but doesn't make a big thing out of it, just prompting to ask you, "Is everything okay?"

You just nod. You don't trust your voice to convince them of something they won't believe anyway. Arthur Hill and Chris keep insulting each other's heads off. George stays by your side, trying to make sure you're okay and taking pictures with fans.

Chris starts cackling, "why are they shouting your name?", as you also hear it now - mixed voices saying your name in the middle of a random street. You wave your hands in their direction and also a thumbs up.

Becky gets there first, holding your shoulders, "Was that necessary, love? We were worried!"

The crew share the same sentiments, somewhat telling you off but not in a rude way.

"I really am sorry. The confrontation just got really out of hand really quick and I know it's silly-"

"That was one grumpy minion!" Arthur buts in, pointing his finger up in the air. You just stare at him in disappointment. Isaac shushes him.

"It was a misunderstanding. I was telling the fella to calm down and he just did that!" Isaac expresses, still clearly annoyed at the situation.

Becky hugs you, reassuring you: "It's alright, love. I coulda ran with you!"

You could tell Chris, George and Arthur Hill were utterly confused, but all of them making a mental note of inquiring about this later.

You say this to no one exactly, just mostly every person there, "I still am very sorry. I just really can't stand confrontations."

They all indicate that you're forgiven. They knew you didn't like them. This wasn't the first time that something similar to this had happened. Around 8 months ago, you went to a pub with an even bigger group of UK Youtubers. At one point, some guy got angry over you bumping into him and he tried to instigate an argument with you. Thankfully, some guys nearby told the guy to fuck off and Arthur offered to spend time with you. He calmed you down and made sure you were alright, holding your hand underneath the table at the booth you were sitting. When the others were drunkenly bantering, he talked your ear off with random fun facts he had learned from a documentary he watched. You were both giggling together late into the night and right up until he walked you home.

You realised in bed that night that he kept you distracted from the uncomfortable situation you got into. He made sure you were alright and had someone to laugh with. Fuck.

This was the night you realised. Realised that what he did was so kind and lovely that you wanted more of it.

You really wished he could be doing the same now.

Maybe it was Doncaster, maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the amount of fans they met, maybe it was the grumpy minion... but his carelessness? really put you off at that moment. Was it something you did?

As this thought kept burning, you took a sip of your water.

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

You had been subconsciously avoiding Arthur for the rest of the night. In the next pub, you sat next to Becky, keeping up conversations with everyone else. When you went to get food, you sat with Isaac and George, laughing your head off at their Scottish conversation. At the racecourse, you still stuck around Becky, goofing around with her as the effects of alcohol were slowly wearing off of you. At the stadium, you were exhausted and ever so ready to lay your head on a hotel pillow and fall asleep.

After posing for the end of the video, Chris called three different taxis - the group and the crew having to split themselves equally between them. You jumped in one of them, where Chris and Becky were already sitting with one of the crew members.

Before Chris could close the door, Arthur pops his head in. He looks around until his eyes fall on you. Your breath hitches in anticipation.

"Join me in the other taxi? We have plenty room for you."

You replied to him sarcastically, "Well, I'm already seated and too comfy. And I wanna sleep already!"

You catch his disappointed glance at you, and then Chris shoos him away from the door, shouting at him to get back into his taxi.

The car finally starts moving and you close your eyes.

You are aware that you're probably being quite silly about the whole situation. Thinking back on it, maybe he was just too socially awkward to show you some comfort over the heated exchange.

However weird it may be, the thought of the "grumpy" minions gives you goosebumps. You later heard Isaac telling the other guys that the guy grabbed him from his collar. You were kind of glad you hadn't noticed that.

Chris' question pulls you out of your thoughts.

"So, for your first ChrisMD video appearance, how do you think it went?" He smiles cheekily, waiting for your honest opinion.

You sigh, sharing the same sentiments you had been sharing all night to your friends, "Fucking amazing. Who knew Doncaster would be so fun?"

Becky cheers to that and Chris nods his head.

"What would you say was your favourite moment?"

You think about it for a second before blurting out, "The food we had. It was fucking heavenly."

This time, Becky asks you a question instead.

"What happened between you and Arthur? The poor fella looked so lost after we all met up again."

"What's with all the questions? Am I doing a post-game interview, straight off the pitch?" The sarcasm evident in your reply, they all laugh at your response.

"I just know you won't tell me tomorrow, so I'm asking you now, love." Becky says, leaning towards you.

You sigh again, knowing she's right. You think it through in your head before you answer her question.

"I-I don't know honestly. The minion encounter really put me off. I was actually, like, freaking out quite bad. I know he likes doing that kind of stuff but... the confrontation really got to me. And while you guys forgave me for running off like a twat, he just... didn't say a word to me. He didn't say anything about it. I just got a little upset, I guess - but I know it's really silly of me."

Your train of thought goes awry for a second.

"He's been there for me multiple times when this kind of stuff has happened. He knows how to calm me down. Ma-... Maybe I was just frustrated in the moment but I just wanted to chill with the other guys."

You look up to see Chris and Becky both nodding at you, invested in your confession.

"I'm not mad at him. I promise I won't let this get weird, I'm sorry-"

You can barely say it before Chris interrupts you.

"Don't be daft, and no need to apologise. I know you guys will talk it through."

You smile at him. You're really glad to have great friends.

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

You throw away your cotton pads into the bathroom trashcan as you exit to your bedroom.

Chris was kind enough to give you your own separate room as the others all paired up.

You hadn't felt stable enough for a shower, opting to take one in the morning. You did have to still brush your teeth and remove your makeup.

As you sit down on your bed, as if on cue, someone knocks softly on your door. You smooth out your oversized T-shirt and shorts as you walk to open the door.

Arthur.

You quickly took in his appearance. His hair was messy, his white shirt slightly stained and crumpled. His toned arms were crossed in front of him as he had left his overwear somewhere. His body was leaning on the doorframe. His eyes staring right at you.

"Were you sleeping?"

"No, I was just going to though."

He hums in response. A couple seconds of silence looms over you two.

"Can we talk?"

Your heart drops. It's one of those questions that will always scare the shit out of you. You knew it was bound to happen, but it still frightened you.

You stutter a bit over your words, "Uhm yeah sure, come in," and you move slightly behind the door so Arthur could step in. As he walks towards your bed, you close the door and follow him to your bed for the night. Before Arthur sits down, he looks around the room, and then at you.

"You really packed your pyjamas for this trip? We're leaving tomorrow," a smile etches his face, but it's hard to tell how sarcastic he really is.

"Don't judge. I'd prefer to sleep comfy than in sweaty night-out clothes," you reach to push his shoulder in a joking manner, but you quickly dart your hand to scratch your head, not really knowing how to handle the weird situation at hand. You hope he didn't notice, but he might've - he stares at your hand before taking a seat on your bed.

You sit next to him, putting a little bit of distance between you two. You twiddle your thumbs, hoping he starts off the conversation.

He looks down at his hands as well before speaking up.

"Are you alright?"

This question takes you aback.

"Am I alright?" You repeat back to him, a bit surprised.

This time, he looks at you, "Yes. Are you?"

You force yourself to look at him as well. It has never been difficult to look Arthur in the eyes - if anything, you found yourself staring at him more times than a friend probably would. You liked to admire his style, his outfit he had picked out for that day; his hair and the way it gets more curlier every time you see him. You just really wish it was the same during this moment.

You take a deep breath, "Yeah, I think. I'm doing quite okay right now."

He nods and you quickly ask him the same, "And you? Are you alright?"

A small smile appears on his face again, "I had way too much to drink. My back hurts from falling down the tree and I managed to stub my toe in my hotel room," he starts laughing quietly over his misfortune before continuing, "but I think I am very okay now. Thank you for asking."

You nod in his direction before fading your gaze to the door of your room.

He scooted closer to you, placing his hand on the bed behind your back so you could feel his arm against your back. He leans closer, and with a low voice, asks you:

"Why did you ignore me at the end of the night?"

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. You could feel his bare arm against your sheer shirt, the warmth radiating from his skin. You could feel his breath on your ear, and the smell of beer filled your senses.

You can only mutter out a barely unintelligible "What?"

"I tried to tease you at one of the bars and you... you just didn't do anything. I said a joke, and you didn't laugh; I wanted to talk to you but you just talked with Becky and Arthur; I-I tried to hold you and you just slipped out of my grasp."

Hearing him drunkenly pour his heart out made you feel bad. You really messed up and shouldn't have ignored him like that. At the moment though, you felt like you wanted to hang out with the others and not cling by his side the entire time. Chris pointed this out a couple of months ago, where you two arrived to the pub together, ordered drinks together, sat next to each other and kept falling into pointless rants together. When you were going to go to the bathroom together, Chris complained, "As if you're attached to each other at the hip, get a room!" were his exact words. Ever since then, you've made a conscious effort to spend more time with your other friends as well during night-outs. You still sat with Arthur.

"I just don't know why. I know we can both shut down socially, but you talked with George just fine! Can we please just talk shit out?"

He rambles on more, but you're in your head. You're trying to structure the perfect sentences to get your point across.

You grab his hand, which shuts him up. He looks at the hands, and then back at you.

You huff out a loud breath, "I'm sorry."

Arthur keeps looking intensely into your eyes, and you continue.

"I.. I know when I say it out loud, it's going to sound extremely silly. But I wanted to apologise before-.. uhm before I told you."

He tightens the grip in your hands.

You wipe your eyes with your free hand. You stutter slightly, hoping you stay on track for this.

"The fucking minion. A-and the stupid squabble that happened. It made me really anxious, and hearing you hollering at the man didn't help. I didn't want to get into any stupid fights, but I heard that it could've gone way worse."

You feel your heart thumping in your ears.

"You.. You know I hate confrontations. Even if any of you manage to get into one. It just makes me incredibly anxious. I don't want anyone to get hurt over something stupid- and that minion was stupid to start a fight with."

You giggle at your own words. You hardly believe that a goddamn minion is the reason you're pouring your heart out to your really good friend/crush. You clearly weren't as sober as you thought you were.

Arthur's face stays the same, urging you to finish your thoughts.

You could feel this part was going to be more rogue and straight from the heart.

"I just really wanted to hug you, and selfishly, I wanted you to comfort me like you always have. You just... kinda didn't. And at that moment. I was kinda upset- which is still incredibly silly but the emotions were so high and I was dumb, I sh-"

Arthur interrupts you, sliding his hand onto your shoulder and holding it, "You're not dumb, don't say that."

You don't know how to respond to that. You try to gather your thoughts, but Arthur speaks his mind instead.

"I did want to comfort you, I promise. I was just really drunk at that point, and the minion-" he laughs, "-just had my emotions high. When you ran off, I-I got scared."

This confession surprised you, and you look into his eyes.

"I really did. I was worried for you. I should've done something right away."

You shake your head, "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have expected you to-"

"I'm sorry. I never want to see you unhappy."

Your eyes widen. Am I overthinking this?

"I mean it." Arthur grabs your cheek as you stare deeply into each others eyes.

The air was thick. Your heart was still pulsing, your breath shaky. You felt that it's now or never.

"You mean so much to me, Arthur."

You didn't know how to convey it any better without being extremely straightforward. Seems to you, he got the idea.

He leans forward, closing the space between you two. He tilts his head slightly, kissing you carefully but passionately. You kiss him back, sliding your hands down his sides.

You felt yourself melt under his touch. It seemed unbelievable that it finally happened. You're kissing Arthur, someone who you had liked for many months now. You didn't think he even would reciprocate this feeling. You smile into the kiss, feeling incredibly lucky.

You separate and lean your foreheads together. In a split second, feeling brave enough, you pull him at his side to lay next to you in your bed. On your sides, you kiss him again and he wastes no time kissing you back. This time, it's frantic, but passionate nonetheless. You slide your hands under his shirt, feeling around his toned abs and holding his side. He has his hand behind your head, pushing you even closer to him. You lose yourselves to kissing each other, never wanting this to stop.

You pull back for air, and Arthur tries to lean back in immediately. You laugh, pushing his shoulder, "I need some air, Arthur."

He laughs as well, staring into your eyes.

"Fuck."

"Fuck indeed."

He pulls you closer, resting his hand on your back.

"I really like you. If you couldn't tell," you bluntly confess to Arthur.

He smiles and kisses your cheek, "I really like you as well."

Nothing is said for a while. You both enjoy the feeling of the kissing session, holding each other close. Arthur breaks this silence,

"If I knew a grumpy minion would get us here, I would've done this so long ago."

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does this even make sense? hopefully it does

#arthurtv #arthur frederick #arthurtv x reader #arthur tv #arthur frederick x reader #arthurtv angst #arthurtv fluff

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