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buttsmasher · 11 months ago

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The Time Vinny came to the Pharmacy

Tags/Warnings: Face Farting, Gay Face Farting, Willing Victim, Underwear Farting, Semi-Public

You lay across the counter, another boring day at the pharmacy. You’re scrolling through Instagram when you have to stop and stare at a picture your high school crush, Vinnie, posted. It’s a side view of him lifting a barbell and it highlights his arms, and that ass that you always wanted to be near in high school. The caption read, “It looks like leg day has been really paying off.” You, of course, double tap the photo.

“Yeah, that was a pretty good photo.” You look up to see Vinnie standing in front of you giving you his signature smile. All of your high school memories come rushing back and you quickly remember why he was your crush. 6’3”, charming smile, hot body, and he was honestly one of the nicest guys in town. “Not to brag or anything.” His smile disarms any awkwardness you might have felt.

“What brings you in?” You ask putting your phone away, giving him your full attention.

“I’m here for a prescription.”

“Gotcha.” You go ahead and enter his name into the system and quickly grab his prescription. “So how’s life going?” You make small talk as you scan the barcode of the prescription bag.

“Oh you know, just trying to survive the end of the world.” You both chuckle. “But my girlfriend broke up with me so... trying to get over that.”

“Sorry to hear it man. It’s $15.12.”

“Yeah, she said I was going to the gym too much. And she said I was too gassy for her.” He pulls out a credit card and hands it to you.

“Gassy?” You raise your eyebrow as you take his card.

“Yeah. It’s probably the protein shakes because they go right through me. But imagine being broken up with because you’re too gassy.” You shake your head, not able to imagine it.

“Sounds like to me you need someone who’d appreciate your gassiness.” You give him a wink as you hand him his card back and prescription. You then go back to leaning onto the counter, elbows on the counter with your head being cradled by your heads.

“Is that so?” He looks you up and down briefly before leaning onto the counter himself. “Do you know anyone, within a, oh I don’t know, one minute radius because I got some big ones brewing.”

“Hmm,” You pretend to think about it. “Carla I’m going on break!” You yell to the pharmacist on duty. You walk out from the employee section and gesture towards Vinnie to follow you into the exam room.

He doesn’t miss a beat, he follows and you close the door and lock it. Before he even says anything you are on your knees pulling at his gym shorts. His boxer briefs are a bit sweaty, most likely he came straight from the gym.It doesn’t stop you from smashing your nose into his musky crack and taking a deep whiff. It’s intoxicating, and you let out this small moan that just makes Vinnie laugh.

“I haven’t even farted yet.” He jokes as he lets you inhale his scent.

“Sorry, sorry, you just smell…”

PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

He lets a harsh fart that interrupts your sentence. You don’t even try to finish the sentence, instead you just focus your energy on inhaling the toxic air. It’s bad, and you kind of understand why his girlfriend broke up with him.The smell reminds you of a skunk and it’s just pure rotten ass fumes. You can’t help the fact that you’re so painfully erect.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Vinnie chuckles. “I just couldn’t hol’ it in anymore.”

“It’s good.” Your voice is strained but you give him a thumbs up.

“Man, you must of inhaled all of it, because I didn’t get a whiff of it up here.” He wiggles his body a little bit bouncing you in between his butt cheeks. “Shit I just may need to keep you around as my fart vacuum.”

“No complaints here.” You pull your nose out his ass and begin to stand up causing him to push you back down.

“I didn’t say I was finished.” He wraps his hand in your hair before pulling you back against his sweaty undies.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

This one was even worse than the previous. It was horrid and you honestly kind of wanted to pull your face away. But before you even get a chance to appreciate that last bomb, he’s hitting you with more gas.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFTTTT PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFTTTT

He wasn’t joking when his girlfriend said he was gassy. You did your best to keep up with his butt bombs, but you feel yourself starting to get dizzy from only being able to breathe in his rotten egg smelling farts. You forcibly pull away from his ass and take a deep breath in before you push your nose back in against his clothed hole.

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFTT

He lifts his leg as two squeakers expel from his nasty ass. “Fuck.” You groan as you keep taking loud huffs. “Jesus christ, how do you have so much gas?” You pant as you pull away from his ass again.

“I’m telling ya, it’s gotta be the protein shakes.” You try to catch your breath.

“Fuck man.” You wipe your forehead where there’s sweat beading on your face.

“You want more?” He’s biting his lip like he’s holding a big one in.

“Hell yeah!” You don’t waste any time getting back into position.

“It’s a big one, do you think you can take it?” He warns.

“Take your best shot, big guy.” You give a playful smack against his ass.

“Your funeral.” He starts grunting, and for a moment you’re honestly worried that he’s about to shit himself.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

He lets out the loudest and nastiest fart you’ve ever heard. And the smell is god awful. Somehow mixing all sorts of horrid scents that you didn’t think were possible. At first you smelled rotten eggs, but then somewhere around the 5 second mark it went to old garbage, and then another few seconds and it was sewage. There wasn’t any way you couldn’t pull away from that.

You are hacking up a lung as Vinnie laughs at you. “I warned you man.”

“Fuck. I didn’t know you were that brutal.” You gag, somehow getting a taste of his nasty brew. “I-I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“That’s fine.” He reaches down and pulls his shorts up. “It’s not every day I get to bomb someone.”

“Well if you were dating me, that wouldn’t be a problem.” You try to turn the situation in your favor, but you’re still trying to catch your breath.

“Hm, how bout we get coffee first.”

“Deal.” You say as he helps you get back on your feet.

“You think you can go back to work?” You give a thumbs up as he helps walk back to the employee area.

“What did you do to him?” Clara takes you from Vinnie and then scrunches her face. “God you stink.” She moves her face as far away as she can. “God, that’s awful, you need to go home.” She kind of pushes you away and Vinnie catches you again. You both kind of laugh before Vinnie helps you out to your car.

“You free tomorrow?” You ask nervously.

“Yeah, meet me at the Piñata Cafe at 10:00.”

“Cool.” You give him a small wave.

When your door is closed and his back is to you, you start dancing. You’ve got a date with Vinnie, your high school dream almost fulfilled.

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sugar-omi · 5 months ago

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NSFW, no reader, rockstar!cove, OOC, multiple scenarios, one night stand, cove x random girl, cove x sam (stardew), squirting, oral, orgasm denial

videos of rockstar!cove going down on his fans circulating...

a video of him from earlier in his career surfacing, quickly becoming popular, and no matter how much his team try to save face. it's been watched thousands of times. circled around different 18+ blogs...

fans and others reeling at how cove eats the girl out. his pierced tongue flattening against her wet, puffy folds and dipping in to get a taste of her cunt, his eyes closing and releasing a low, deep groan as he licks up to her stiff clit.

he pulls away, the camera shaking and you can beautifully hear her breathy moans and shaky gasps, fractured "oh god- oh fuck- please- co- oh my god" spilling from sweet lips. her legs trembling so beautifully in his hands as she squirts on his face..

his smirk is captivating, his lips and chin wet with spit and slick. anyone watching would fall to their fucking knees when he opens his mouth, a deep but charming voice purring out dirty words.

"you taste so good.." followed by his signature back bending, knee weakening laugh. and he licks his lips, looking back down to toy with her cunt. his thumb rubbing around the mess on her cunt, massaging her puffy walls.

you can't tell if it's polite affection or for his own pleasure, you lean towards the latter with how he bites his lip, a look of pleasure on his lips and face and is so entranced by how her cunt gives weak squirts, sloppy, slick noises coming from cove playing with her cunt, enjoying how she soaks his wrist

you can hear how watery her voice is. she sounds so broken, probably looks like a pretty mess.

he leans over, his face half cut off as he leans closer to the woman behind the camera. now, all you can see is his lips, mused, long hair and scratched shoulders, his chest glittering with her slick and his sweat..

"such a pretty girl.. why don't you squirt for me again?"

now this one is just a rumor.. but it had his fandom buzzing at the possibility. whether they're buzzing in anger at the accusation, or from thrill, some curious and itching to see if cove is dating him, and some just eager to see more of the hot couple...

people had a fit when a fan took a shaky, fuzzy photo of cove kissing sam, the small artist cornered by the wall behind him, and cove's body, pulling him in by his waist and his hand tangled in sam's hair, locking him in a kiss. with the caption a keysmash and "IJSUT LEFT THE BAR AN COVE HODLDEN IS MAKINGOUT WITH THE LEAD SINGER????"

his company tries to stifle the noise, "it's his personal life and we will not make a comment at this time." and cove just smiles and laughs when he reads out "are you dating that guy in the photo?" on a live stream before moving on...

it wasn't a big deal, the tweet died quickly, even if it's attention rose again here and there... but fans are used to the wild picture's of rockstar!cove, shirtless and drunk, pouring alcohol down his sculpted, tatted body. kissing groupies on the cheek or lips if they're being real pushy and he's feeling particularly mischievous. and of course the video from early in his career that still has fans trembling...

but god, they just don't know how hot that night was.

sam has ben losing his mind since he met cove, eagerly learning from and sticking by cove as he helps him set up shows for his band, taking tips from him during their practice...

really, their interactions are so sweet. fan meet idol... but mix a little drink, and adrenaline from a successful show, and your favorite artist in front of you, as beautiful and kind and strong and sexy as ever...

of course you end up kissing him, right? and of course when you pull away, totally apologetic and ready to crawl into a hole and never come out.. he pulls you in by your waist, kissing you, and the kiss gets deeper...

and after escaping the bar and the rest of his band, they find their way to cove's hotel room.

sam doesn't even have time to revel in the luxury of it. cove laughs, tells him it's not the nicest he's been in, but to sam, it's a lot nicer than he's used to.. he slides up behind sam, wrapping his arms around him.

"keep it up, and you'll see a whole 'nother world..." cove kisses down his neck, pushing off his jean jacket until it hits the floor, sam's hands still hovering over him shyly, even when his hands slip under sam's baggy shirt...

"..one with money, fame, love..." he kisses his way back up sam's neck, hickeys left behind from his biting and sucking on the skin earlier in the bar.

cove pulls off sam's shirt, smiling because sam is still a little star-struck, and very turned on, his bulge pressing against his jeans.

"fancy hotels, nice food..." cove purrs, his fingers brushing against sam's skin like a feather, up his sides, across his abs, capturing his lips while he undoes sam's belt with deft fingers, throwing the belt somewhere to the right and he steps forward, encouraging sam to back up until his legs hit the couch, his knees immediately buckling.

cove roughly pops the buttons, tugging down sam's boxer's and jeans in one swoop, his hardening cock hanging heavily, twitches and gets stiffer just from cove's gaze.

sam is embarrassed being so vulnerable in cove's hands, torn between wanting to hide his hard-on and let cove continue.. he stills feels small compared to him, his eyes still starry when cove talks to him, in such disbelief still at the opportunities handed to him.

and really. who can resist their idol flirting with them? let alone wanting to suck them off.

sam pants heavily, his fingers sliding into cove's hair, tangling his fingers in cove's hair. his breath picking up when cove gets closer and closer until his lips are wrapped around sam's flushed tip, his hot tongue lapping over his tip, cove's tongue piercing making sam tremble.

"ohh god..." sam groans, his heading twisting to the side and his fingers tightening in cove's hair.

cove takes him into his mouth, holding down his hips until his nose is buried against sam's blond pubes, his length buried in the tight heat of cove's throat.

he can't take it, he doesn't know if it's the fact he hasn't had sex in a long time, or that his idol is sucking his dick. maybe a little, a lot, of both, but sam can't help thrusting up into his mouth, albeit involuntarily, his hips and cock are 15 feet ahead of his brain and he can't stop it..

cove gags, sam's cock hitting the back of his throat suddenly.

"fuc- sorry! i'm sorry! are you- are you okay?" sam fumbles, removing his hand from cove's hair, leaving it messy and crazy. cove pulls off, his cock still in his hand and he gives it slow pumps as he catches his breath, running a hand over his hair, trying to fix the mess sam left behind. at least he wasn't wearing rings, cove thinks.

he smiles, thrilled by sam's responsiveness to his mouth. he hasn't even started and he's already so eager and melting in his hands...

"i'm fine.." cove reassures, holding open sam's thighs and kissing his leaky tip, picking up his strokes. cove gets close again, his breath making sam shake at the cool sensation of his breath on sam's spit-soaked cock.

"wanna fuck my throat?" cove proposes, looking up at sam and taking his cock back down his throat.

"wha- oh my god-!" sam throws his head back, cove taking him all the way to the base in one swoop, his hand playing with sam's balls and his tongue piercing dragging intoxicatingly against the underside of sam's cock.

he's losing his fucking mind. he's never had head so fucking good and cove's barely done anything...

he can't even think about what cove said, his cock painfully hard and dripping pre on cove's tongue, sam's thighs trembling under his hand and he's trying not to buck up into his mouth again, not wanting to hurt him.

although, he did just ask if sam wanted to fuck his throat.. and he seemed way too happy when he accidently thrusted into his mouth earlier. fuck, is it even possible to scare cove away after all the fanboy rambling he'd done in the first few weeks, in the first 24 hours, of knowing cove.

sam cries out, cove's tongue circling his sensitive cock head and sucking hard, as if he's trying to pull all the cum out of him by force.

"goddammit!" he sobs, fists curling in the decorative pillows, leaning his hips into cove's mouth for more... he's so close, he could bust any minute now, oh fuc-

sam snaps his head up, his sight flooded with the bright light and luxurious hotel room compared to the darkness behind his previously scrunched up eyes, totally melting in the pleasure and is almost frantic to see why cove stopped.

"i was so close... why.. why did you..?" he pants, his chest raising and falling heavily.

cove pulled his hands away too, both of them holding sam's thighs apart, his cock hanging heavy between them, dripping cove's spit and his flushed tip dripping pre so cutely onto the rug.

cove trails his finger up sam's dripping cock, enjoying how it twitches and jumps, pre dribbling from the tip..

"i don't want it to end just yet. you haven't showed me how much i inspire you." cove wraps his hand around sam's cock again, only stroking the head, giving tight, quick strokes to the sensitive glands. whiny moans slip from sam's lips like water breaking through a dam.

"c'mon sam... surely you've imaged sleeping with me before.." cove purrs, "lets see how long you can last. whadda you say, pretty boy?" cove leans in, a sultry smile on his lips. sam is so cute, he wants to devour him...

"wanna make some of those fantasies come true...?"

#olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut #fem reader #masc reader #gn reader #cove holden x sam #stardew valley #stardew valley smut #stardew sam

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sunandflame · 1 year ago

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An Angel in Human Form

Warnings: It's so tooth rotting fluff, thats the only warning I can give.

Word Count: 1458

Pairing: Photoprapher!Kyojuro x Reader

A/N: As the poll has decided here is the second part of Kyojuro as a photographer. I really love how it turned out and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did! I also wanna thank my beta reader and editor @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi ❤️

Part 1 (drabble) / Part 2

"Can I see it?"

He looked at you with his big owlish eyes. "What?"

"Can I see the pictures you took?"

Oh. Now he understood. A foreign anxiety spread through him, and he didn't know how to deal with the situation. He wasn’t usually speechless, rather the opposite was often the case, but now - he could only stare at you.

"Did you not take some of me earlier?" You cocked your head while giving him a soft smile and he could feel the heat in his cheeks again. Nothing like this had ever happened to him and he was usually not the shy type.

"Yes, yes I did!" His voice was boisterous, and he bit his tongue, hoping he didn't startle you, but the opposite seemed to be the case. You smiled patiently and shifted your gaze from him to his camera.

He stood next to you to show you the pictures on the small screen. The sudden closeness had his throat tightening up. "Wow... These are beautiful. I like how the light falls here and how you captured the mood..."

"My photo exhibition is in 2 weeks! I would be very happy if you could come." He almost shouted at her and rummaged around for a small invitation card that he’d actually wanted to give to his friend Tengen today - but that could wait as he could get him another later. "All you have to do is show them this card and they'll let you in."

You took the card and read the name on it out loud. "Kyojuro Rengoku..." His name on your lips sounded like angelic dream and he wanted you to repeat it, but you simply looked up. "I promise I’ll come! But I have to go now, so have a nice day!" You gave him a bright smile before turning and walking away. He looked after you and at how the wind blew around your white dress. Kyojuro was unable to move, still awestruck from the beauty of your smile.

2 weeks later...

Kyojuro was nervous and Tengen wasn't used to see his friend in such a state. "Hey calm down. You will see, your exhibition is going to be flamboyant!"

If only it were that. It had been 2 weeks and in those 14 days he hadn't spent a second not thinking about you and your beautiful smile. It probably didn't help that there were three big pictures of you on the wall. One was how you were having a friendly conversation with a homeless man who too seemed stunned by your beauty and the other was how you crouched down, petting a stray cat with a gentle smile, and let her ensnare you. The last picture was the first he shot of you. How the wind blew your hair and you tried to stroke it away from your face with a gentle movement. These pictures of you turned your inner beauty outwards. Pictures that showed what a kind nature you were. The portraits were hanging side by side with the caption 'An angel in human form'. That might have seemed a bit exaggerated, but not in the eyes of Kyojuro, because that was what Kyojuro saw in you and these pictures, and he wasn't ashamed of it either. Of course, there were other pictures in his exhibition. Pictures of traditional Japanese still life, and kendo and sumo fights that showed the beauty and simplicity, but the eye-catcher was the three pictures of you.

Several hours had passed since the opening and there were still no signs of you. The hope in Kyojuro that you would eventually come was slowly fading away since there was only half an hour left. He was talking to someone when he heard a familiar voice. His head jerked toward the entrance so quickly that someone might think that he twisted his neck, and he couldn't believe his eyes.

You were wearing a red dress that gently caressed your hips. Your hair in an improvised updo wearing a subtle makeup. He took in every detail of you, inhaled it and saved it for eternity like his photographs on the walls. All the doubts he had before vanished. He saw your apologetic smile towards the security man while you searched desperately for the invite card in your purse, which he had given to you 2 weeks prior. It seemed that you couldn't find it, but you remembered the address and his name all this time?

"She is a VIP guest of mine." Kyojuro stepped in and signaled the security that he can let her in.

"Oh hello!" Your face blossomed into a sunny glow when you saw him, and he felt his heart leap at this sight.

"You made it. You came." It was like the sight of you in that beautiful red dress took his breath away.

"Yes of course!" You took a step towards him giving him a big smile. "I promised you, didn't I?"

Kyojuro looked at you in surprise at first before giving you a gentle smile and reaching out to take your hand. "Yes, you have." You took his hand and felt the warmth he radiated. His hand was so comfortable and big that you didn't want to let go. Kyojuro showed you around and you studied his works enthusiastically. You were amazed by the beauty he captured with his lens. Tengen watched his friend from afar and gave him a thumbs up and wink while he took care of the rest for Kyojuro so he could spend time with you. It was good that you came late, there weren't many people left and you had all the time in the world to look at his works in peace.

"You are so talented! I love how you captured the beauty of the people and the environment. Is that you in that Bōgu, by the way?" You stood in front of the photograph with the kendo warrior and stood in front of it for a while. He wondered how you came up with that because the kendo mask made the warrior anonymous.

"What makes you think that?" He chuckled. He didn't want to answer you right away.

You moved and gave him a mischievous smile. "I can't quite explain it. It's maybe the stance of the person. It's very-" You stopped mid-sentence, your gaze past his face at the three large portrait of yourself.

Kyojuro turned around to see where you were looking at and immediately felt the heat in his cheeks. Shit, he hadn't considered how you might feel about this and now he felt bad. What if you didn't like it? What if you thought he was a creep? His heart was pounding, and he wasn't sure what to say or what to do. He watched you nervously as you approached the pictures with slow steps, looking at them with wide eyes. You were silent for several moments and Kyojuro was getting more and more nervous. "I-"

"Is that how you see me?" You interrupted him as you turned your gaze from the pictures to his golden-red hues.

"How I see you...?" For the second time in his life, he wasn't sure what to answer. And only you brought out that side of him.

"You really see me as an angel in human form...?" Now it was your cheeks that blushed.

A stone fell from his heart. He walked up to you and took your hand in his. "I don't just see you like that, you are one to me. The first moment I saw you." He lifted your hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. The blush that shot up your face was so adorable in his eyes; he wanted more than to kiss your hand. You looked at him and bit your lower lip, unsure of what to say.

"Would you like-" "Would you like-?"

You two had been talking at the same time and all you could do was giggle. "Would you like some miso soup with sweet potatoes? I know a good place not too far from here."

"I love sweet potatoes!" His smile radiated such warmth.

"Me too! I could eat it every day" You laughed at the coincidence.

He leaned towards you. "How about we go now? I am starving."

"Can you leave exhibition?"

"Yes, that's no problem." He looked around for Tengen and nodded to him. The tall man seemed to understand and just grinned.

You watch the two of them and smiled from ear to ear. "Then let’s go." Your hand didn't let go of his. "I'm Y/N by the way! I thought you should know."

Kyojuro couldn't help but laugh. "Your name even sounds like that of an angel!"

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feyhunter78 · 1 year ago

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Chapter Five - You find Miguel's sister-in-law on Instagram, and Miguel asks you for help with his phone. Ch 6

You trail your fingers over the hand shaped bruises on your thighs, gently, not wanting to press into skin and further irritate the broken blood vessels, as you scroll through your phone. The bathwater around you is still warm, lavender scented bubbles covering the surface, a glass of wine on the flat edge of the tub.

You’ve been trying to find something, anything on Miguel’s family, and finally you’ve done it. An Instagram page pops up, @MinaQMorris, a stunning woman with long wavy red hair and dazzling hazel eyes. The first picture that comes up has her in an elegant, slinky black gown, her arm wrapped around the biceps of a taller man with tan skin and dark eyes, the caption reads: Another successful charity event with my love @GabrielOHara, make sure to sign up for our blood drive next month! Link in my bio!

It’s clear he’s Miguel’s brother, the resemblance is uncanny. Sure, Gabriel is a little skinner, and not as tall as Miguel, but they have the same smile, the same piercing brown eyes.

You shiver at the idea of a blood drive, you hate giving blood, the needles, the sight of it leaving your body, it’s painful and always makes you anxious.

You go to Mina’s tagged photos, finding Miguel’s Instagram quite easily. He has six photos, and it looks like either she or Gabriel forced him to post them. You laugh, it’s so like Miguel, you swear he’s technologically inept, he’s always asking you for help with his phone or his laptop. The only technology he does understand is in the morgue, and you wonder why he finds the morgue equipment so easy but his cell phone confusing.

A notification pops up at the top of your screen, and your eyes flicker up.

Miguel: Y/N, can you help me with my phone tomorrow?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, as they say. You laugh and shoot back a quick response before continuing to stalk Miguel’s page.

Y/N: Sure, what’s wrong with it?

Miguel: Not sure, the sound stopped working.

You roll your eyes. He probably forgot to update the software again.

Y/N: I’ll look at it in the morning.

Miguel sends back a thank you, then the conversation falls silent, and you put your phone on the counter, closing your eyes and relaxing in the warm water.

The next day, you find Miguel waiting outside your office, phone in hand.

He has the latest phone, a sleek but clearly protective dark blue case on it. The lockscreen is a landscape with a gothic-looking manor in the background, and five or six people standing in the foreground with their backs to the camera. You never pegged him as a dark academia guy, but everyone has their thing.

“Okay, let me see it.” You say, taking a seat at your desk. Your office is cozy, covered with plants and brightly colored decorations, you're surrounded by death all day, you figured you might as well celebrate life in your own office.

He opens it and unlocks it before handing it to you and taking a seat in the plush rolling chair. Smiling up at you is Miguel, Gabriel, and Mina, they’re all dressed in dark colors, their outfits ostentatious and clearly expensive, glasses of crimson wine in their hands.

“Did you guys take this on Halloween?” You ask, motioning to the photo.

“Yeah, it’s Mina’s birthday, so her family throws a huge party every year.”

“That’s cool, now okay, did you check for updates?” You ask, going into the settings.

“Yes, and I made sure it was fully charged.” Miguel says, looking like a kicked puppy, as he pulls a rolling chair next to you.

You scroll through his settings, until you come to audio. It’s connected to his earbuds.

“Found the issue, it’s still in Bluetooth mode.” You tell him, swiftly disconnecting it and turning to hand the phone back to Miguel.

A woman’s voice comes through the speakers, and you all but throw Miguel’s phone at him. “Fuck, Miguel, oh baby, please, I need your big fat cock inside me—”

He scrambles to turn down the volume. “Shit, I—that was just a friend of mine, she—”

You hold up a hand, wanting to crawl out of your skin from embarrassment and strangely…jealousy? For a brief second you wanted to be that woman, be begging Miguel to fuck you, to feel him deep inside you, his chest pressed to yours, his lips against your ear whispering sinfully things that make your toes curl. “No, no, no need, what you do in your free time is none of my business.”

Miguel is stiff, curled inward, seemingly just as embarrassed as you. “No, no, y/n, I mean it, she’s nobody.”

You laugh, not at him, to break the tension, but the sound falls flat, and you wave your hand dismissively. “Miguel, seriously, it’s no big deal. Yeah, I’d be a little embarrassed if I knew my boyfriend’s coworker heard me moaning about how much I wanted him but, really, it’s fine, it was an accident.”

There’s a shift in him, his eyes darken for a fleeting moment, and he leans closer, his phone face down on your desk. He towers over you even while you’re both sitting, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“You moan like that for him?” His words are so quiet you barely hear them.

“What?” You blink at him, stunned, frozen.

Miguel’s voice is still quiet, a slight purr to it that sends goosebumps scattering across your skin. “Lo dudo. ¿Cómo podrías hacerlo cuando te deja tan necesitada? No princesa, solo me cantas así.” Trsl: I doubt it. How could you when he leaves you so needy? No princess, you only sing like that for me.

“I don’t speak Spanish.” Is all you can manage to say, a throbbing starting in your core at the way he watches you, the curl of his tongue around the accented words.

He blinks at you, slowly, like a cat, then pulls back. “You shouldn’t send him voice messages like that, it’s not safe, what happened here is a prime example of that.”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“Thanks for your help.” Miguel says suddenly, standing and leaving your office, seeming completely unfazed.

You can’t help but catch the way he pulls his lab coat closed as he leaves, and you catch a quick glimpse of budging fabric that makes you swallow hard.

How the hell does that fit into anybody? Fuck, who cares, I’ll let him make it fit, he can rearrange my fucking guts if he wants.

You hear Miguel choke, then start coughing as he walks away, his footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

I know Miguel is good with tech, he's scheming don't yell at me in the comments

TL: @obi-mom-kenobi, @poutysprouty, @oharasfilipinawife, @laysmt, @cicithemess, @unabashedcroissanttreefan, @lynxslokley, @thedevax

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #vampire!miguel #vamp!miguel #vampire!au #miguel o'hara x you #morgue miguel #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #vamp!au

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starcrossedreaders · 2 years ago

Text

RootBeer Floats

Azriel x Reader

Author’s note: Here is part three for you feins. If you have not read part I or part II I highly suggest you do. Thank you for all of the support, enjoy! NOT PROOF READ

Laying in bed and questioning my choice of major is not how I planned to spend my Saturday night. Mor was out on a date with her girlfriend and wouldn’t be home till tomorrow, so like any good college student I decided to take this opportunity to work on this paper. Only for me to fail immensely at getting anything done, my eye’s were becoming dry despite the glasses I put on hours before, my room was too stuffy, and the silence was too loud. One more key stroke and I would actually pull my hair out. I let out an sigh as my head fell into hands. The base of my palms rubbed at my eyes until I was seeing white, I only lifted my head up because I heard my phone vibrate twice. Who would dare to send me a snap this hour? Checking my phone, Cassian had sent a video to a group chat that consisted of Me, Mor, Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Amren, Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian. Over the past 3 weeks Mor’s friend group had accepted me with open arms, Nesta and I talk about the mass amounts of books we need to read or had read. Feyre had invited me to walk around a few art exhibits our school had to offer. Rhysand had asked for my help with a business venture. Cassian and I had sat in a parking lot late at night, eating greasy fast food and talked shit. I have yet to met Elain, and the last time Az and I even spoke was their last game the other day.

Me: Congrats on the great season! You guys had a killer last game, be safe partying tonight.

Azriel : Thanks, will do.

Yea, I still cringe thinking about it. I don’t really understand why he is actively avoiding me. Maybe it’s because of the captain situation, or maybe I’m being over bearing? I fall back onto my bed sprawling out and sigh, “Men, so complicated.” I shake my head as I lift my phone to my face to watch Cassian’s video.

“I swear to god if I don’t get written by a female I give up on life,” His face was very close to the camera in unrelenting focus. The filter stopped spinning and Cassian let out the loudest gasp known to man.

“The most chronically online person you know my ass,” He clicked his tongue before he stopped the video. Soon Mor sent a video back, “No no, that is surprisingly very accurate,” Cassian only sent a picture with him using a vulgure gesture captioned ‘Rude ass’.

I laugh a little, happy that I could be apart of this chaos. I scrolled through the different social media apps for a little. It was only till my stomach growled did I get out of bed. Shuffling to the kitchen I looked at the clock to see the time.

10:00

Opening the fridge to find food was utter failure as Mor, once again, forgot it was her turn to buy groceries. I’ll have to get on her about that once again. Going back to my room I threw on a hoodie, slipped on some shoes, grabbed my keys and left the shared apartment. Double checking the door was locked I made my way to the elevator.

On the walk there humming the song stuck in my head, a flash of red hair crossed my vision before his voice filled the hall way.

“Y/N, wait up,” He did a little a jog to catch up.

“Lucien Hey, what are you up to?” Lucien. The guy next door, he was quite handsome, super nice, a such a flirt. His long auburn hair was tied back showing off his sharp features while his wired frame glasses hid the full beauty of his golden eyes.

“Just getting dinner. What about you?” He shrugged his shoulders a little.

“I’m actually off to do the same thing,” I smile up at him.

“Well then, care to join me? I could never let such a pretty girl eat alone,” He offered his arm to me with a slight smirk on his lips.

“And I thought romance was dead. I would love to join you,” I hook my arm on to his and he whisked us away.

On the car ride soft music played in the back ground while we tried to come to a agreement of what to eat.

“What about that one diner that is retro, I heard their milkshakes are pretty good,” Lucien quickly looked my way to gage my opinion.

“Sure why not, I could eat a burger right now,”

“Great, me too.” He laughs a little bit as he drives towards our agreed location.

When arriving Lucien was quick to get out of the car to open my door. When he did he offered his hand and bowed a little bit, “M’lady,” I laughed a little as I grabbed his hand and stood out of his car. I was quick to drop his hand when we stepped foot in the restaurant. We were quick to be seated in a booth near a window. Upon sitting down a waiter that looks like they are on their last straw drops two menus on the table. After a few moments of silences Lucien speaks up, “What do you plan on getting?”

I took one last scan before I answered, “hmm probably a burger with a rootbeer float.” I drop the menu from my face to be greeted with a smiling Lucien.

“Rootbeer float huh?”

“Of course, personally I believe they are superior to milkshakes, and you cannot change my mind,” I laugh a little upon seeing Lucien's betrayed look.

“How could say such a thing!” He gasps and puts his heart on his chest, We both let out laughs that were a little too loud for the quite diner.

The laughing was cut short when the waiter came to take our orders. Falling in the small talk about school, life, friends, and work led into an easy way to pass time. Small shared laughs and understanding nods kept the conversation flowing before a small feminine voice floated through the air. “Lucien?”

Lucien was quick to lift his head up from our conversation, “Elain?” curiosity dripped from her name.

“Oh my gosh Hi, how are you?” She was quick to slide into the seat next him.

“I’m...good. How about you? What are you doing out this late?” He turned his whole body to face her and gave me a side glance that seemed to say: ‘I’m just as confused.’

She waved her hand lazily, “Az and I were meeting for a late dinner and I got here before him. Do you mind if I wait with you guys? Better yet, we should just all eat together!” How she was this chipperly at 10:30 at night was beyond me. What really irked me was the fact that she is supposed to be here with Azriel. This is why he was so standoffish, this beyond pretty girl in front of me, who was flirting with Lucien. What a good date. I cross my arms and scoff a little at the fact. This does not go unnoticed by the red hair across from me.

“Elain, have you met Y/N yet?” she stopped her conversation about her floriculture class and turned her head towards me. She looked me up at down.

“Nice to meet you,” she turned back to Lucien before I could even reply. Lucien gave me a apologetic look before the bell above the door rang. Elain looked towards the door and started to wave franticly. I could only hear to foot steps of doom as he walked closer to our table.

“Azriel hey, I saw Lucien here so I figured we could all eat together,” ouch. He just nods his head a slides into the seat next to me. His scent was heavenly and left me light headed. Cedar and whisky, it had me squeezing my thighs together.

“What’s up man,” Lucien and Azriel did the normal guy handshake.

“Not much, what about you?” Az leaned back and laid his arm on the back of the booth.

“Not much either, congrats on the season though, you guys kicked ass,” Lucien leaned back as well.

“Thanks man,” Conversation was cut short when the waiter arrived with our food and took the others orders. I smiled when the rootbeer float was sat in front of me. I was quick to take a sip, gods it was so good.

“You know those are bad for you right?” I’m going to lose my shit.

“Yes Elain I do, but quite frankly I do not care,” I smiled at her before I picked up a fry.

“Geez no need to be mean, I was just saying,” She rolled her before she slumped back in her seat.

“I’ve never had a rootbeer float before,” Azriel looked my way with a sheepish smile.

“You’re joking?!”

“Nope,” He popped the ‘p’ while he shook his head

“Where was your childhood?” I was quick to steal the straw that Lucien left behind, unwrapped it and shoved it in the sugary drink. I pushed it towards him.

“Try,” He gave me a look that asked ‘are you sure?’ I only answered by pushing it closer to him.

He smiled and his grab the straw between his pointer finger and thumb and wrapped his soft, plump lips around it. He sucked lightly his Adams apple bobbing with each swallow. Gods, my thighs squished together, he was clueless to what he was doing and it made it all more painful that Elain and Lucien were sitting right across from us. He soon pulled back from the straw and time seemed to go back to normal.

“Soooo, whadya think?” He licked the remaining drink from his lips as he thought about it.

“That.... was the best drink I have had,” He smilled a little bit as he looked at me.

“Seriously?!?!”

“Yes seriously,” I smiled back.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Azriel

That was the worst possible drink I have ever had. I would never tell her that, I mean look at how happy she looks. The smile adoring her face with the slight tint on her cheeks made her all the more beautiful. If I was being honest I rather be anywhere but here right now, Elain was persistent to go out for dinner, which ruined my whole schedule for the day. Sleep in, eat breakfast, go to the gym, study, sleep. Simple, but much needed. Ever since the kiss with Y/N Elain has been all over me, it was smothering. It was bad before Y/N, but now? I can’t even pull up my phone without her wondering who I’m texting. I had also just learned that she had been replying to Y/N texts, or deleting the notifications. I’m trapped and I don’t know what to do.

Elain and I were just friends with benefits nothing more nothing less. We went to each other warm our beds, but now? She’s a parasite and she’s making me sick.

Dinner was finished quickly before we were kicked out. Standing out in the parking lot we all bid our goodbyes Y/N being the last to say goodnight.

“Goodnight Az, it was nice seeing you again,” She gave me was quick hug. Her shampoo scent floating to my nose, strawberries. She was so divine. We pulled apart unfortunately and she turned to walk towards Lucien's car. Before she could go far I lunged for her arm.

“I- wait-,” She turned around and I let go her arm. What. The. Fuck. Am. I .Doing. The look of patience sent my heart racing.

“Would... uh, would you maybe like hang out sometime soon?” I have never fumbled over my words, but I have also never seen her light up the way she just.

“I would love to,”

“Great, I’ll text you,”

“Goodnight Az.”

“Night Y/N.”

part IV

Taglist:

@icey--stars @marigold-morelli

#azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #cold kiss #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar modern au #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster

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sofasoap · 2 years ago

Text

Miss Sunflower

Pairing : Kyle “ Gaz” Garrick x F!reader Summary: Gaz and you started long distance… friendship? Sequel to Miss Sunshine

Warning: M theme.

Gaz route for my Mini MacTavish verse, I just love the photo of Elliot Knight big cute smile! As always, Thanks to mother of my Mini MacTavish @saltofmercury for lending me the character “ Mini” from her story. <3 Go read her “The Favorite MacTavish” !

“Masterlist” for other stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Gaz gasped and dropped his phone.

“Everything Ok?” Soap asked as he started bending down to pick up the phone for him. Gaz was quicker to snatch the phone off the floor.

“ No, yes. All good. Um, Price wants me to see me in his office, I’ll talk to you later.” Gaz made a quick retreat from the common room, ducking towards the opposite direction of the office, leaving a very confused Soap behind, while pointing to Price, who is currently sitting by the window, chatting to Ghost.

He can’t let Soap see what was on his phone.

Not that it’s some risque picture or anything. Well. Not quite. But it’s a selfie picture of you, in a beautiful sunflower pattern dress, LOW CUT DRESS, wearing a cap very similar to his, except with a St Andrew’s cross instead of Union jack on it. That beautiful smile again.

“ Look what I found! Now we have matching cap :) Well, I can’t get a Union Jack one otherwise Johnny will be angry with me.” you wrote in the caption.

Your brother will kill me. Gaz thought.

He wasn’t quite sure if it was the alcohol that did the talking when you slipped him the phone number that night. Took him a week of self-deliberation to finally summon up the courage to text you. Your response was immediate. Which gave him great relief. It was a start of blossoming friendship, constant messaging back and forth, occasional phone calls when he is in the privacy of his own room back at the base.

He started sending you photos of all the places he has been to on mission, letting you travel through him, all stemmed from you complaining one day;

“ I am very envious of Johnny and you boys.. Getting to travel all over the world.. Sorry I know it's to war zones... But I have never stepped outside of The British isle before.. Ma claims she took us to France once, but I don’t remember a thing. I was only one year old!”

How he wishes he can take you with him, by his side, showing you the famous sites of the world. Reality is a bitch. He is always out for work, not pleasure. Saving the world, just like the superheroes. You teased him once.

In return, you update him about little tidbits of your life, what happened at work, the new ER doctor everyone is drooling over, (he denies a burn of jealousy rising when heard about it), little gossips you heard, new food you tried out. “Sorry my life is boring compared to yours.” Gaz loves it though. It gives him a sense of normalcy amongst the blood sheds and killings, and getting to know you more. What your favourite foods are, your irks. Even though you two haven’t met again physically after that night, he always feels he is close to you, by heart.

He loves hearing your voice just before they had to go dark for missions. Even with the time differences, you will always answer his message, picking up the call.

“Stay safe please.” That whisper of yours. Always laced with sadness.

“I will.” I will stay alive. To come back to you. He wanted to say.

Where is the relationship at? You two never discuss it. The feeling of trapping in this friendzone, both of you waiting for each other to step over that little boundary line, to finally take the relationship into the next phase. He’s been with other people before. But no one else ever makes him so nervous like a teenager again. What is stopping him from making the move? Wrath of Soap? Not wanting to disturb the peace of the team, jeopardising missions. Or people are going to judge him for going after his friend’s younger sister?

Or people are going to call him selfish, for leading you on, entering into a relationship that is heading to a tragic end, with a high possibility that he might not return from mission one day, leaving you heartbroken.

Or he is just finding excuses, because he is damn scared. Scared of your rejection, and losing you entirely.

He just can’t help it. He is falling more and more for you. He wants to confess to you. His Miss Sunflower.

“Come on Mini, I dare you, send him the picture! Maybe he will finally make a move on you.”

“But… but… isn’t this showing a bit too much of my…. this…..”“ OH hush, you look very cute in that dress. DO IT.”

Gaz ran back to his room afterwards, trying to dispel any ungentlemanly thoughts out of his brain. Failed miserably.

I seriously suck at writing long chapters, I think short little bits really suit me. Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs always appreciated :)

taglist: @deadbranch

@voxyin

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x female reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #cod mw2 #gaz need more love #gaz garrick x reader #no use of y/n

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ravenwraithe · 2 years ago

Text

Chasing Pasts in Shadows

part 4 | part 5 | part 6

"Hey, um, that still doesn't explain why she was at Maguire's. She had a lot of money," Mike drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Maybe she wanted to hide it from Reyes,"

"And posting on Facebook is the best way to keep a secret, thank you for your valuable contribution, Max,”

“Shut it Byers, that was just a theory,” Max sniped.

Will ignored her, scrolling down further on her page. “Her page is so saccharine, eaugh. Here, ‘A very happy journey to my sweet Anna. Say hi to baby Julia for me!’” Will read out the caption of a photo of Emily with someone who looked similar to her.

Max guffawed. “What were you expecting? Have you never been on Facebook before?”

“Um, no, why would I?”

“You haven’t?” Mike asked, incredulously.

“Why would I? It’s not like I had anything important to keep up with or talk to. Why would either of you have a facebook?”

“Well, technically it was my mom’s account. El and I looked up other people’s profiles and what they were doing on her tablet when we had sleepovers.”

“You were stalking other people?” Will nodded at Mike’s question.

“It was not stalking! We were just seeing what others were up to!”

“That is the definition of stalking, Max! You are making my sister commit federal crimes!” If dad found out about this-

“You are the one to talk about crimes, Mr. ‘Let’s-go-to-Vegas-and-commit-fraud-by-asking-El-to-reprogram- the-machines’!”

“That was different, because I haven't done it yet.”

“Because you legally can’t be near a machine.”

“Touche.” Will conceded, stumped.

Mike had been oddly silent throughout this entire exchange “What did you do on Facebook, Mike?” Will asked.

Mike winced imperceptibly. “It’s not important.”

“Why do I get the feeling it’s something embarrassing, Wheeler?”

“It’s not embarrassing,” Mike stated, eyes on the road, and face impossibly red. “It’s just, not relevant.”

“Mike, what are you hiding?” Will asked because he was acting dodgy and sue him, but flustered Mike looked really cute.

“Nothing,” Mike started.

“If you don’t answer, I’ll ask Nancy.”

“Fine.” Mike huffed as he hunched over the wheel. “I had a secret account when I was like, 10, I used it to look at celebrities.”

“You see, Mike, if the entire thing was that simple, you wouldn’t be so shifty about it. So, did you look up swimsuit pictures or what?”

“I looked at Steve’s photos from lifeguarding at the pool, okay?” Mike spit out, more awkward than angry, and Max burst out laughing.

“You, Nancy and Jonathan had a crush on the same guy at the same time?” Max sputtered between her laughter.

“It’s not that funny,” Mike pouted. Will looked away, because if he didn’t, he would do something and Will didn’t particularly want to get into a car crash.

“It’s okay, Mike, we’ve all been there,” Will said, returning back to the google doc.

Max sobered up. “Yeah that was a dark time for both me and you, Will. Remember the ice cream parlour uniform, 3 summers ago?”

Will nodded, a smile coming to his face. That summer was one of the best in his life, with the new music shop and renovated movie theatre, all the party spent the entire time at Steve’s workplace or in Mike’s basement, playing DnD and stuffing themselves full of snacks and sneaking into movies. Mike and Will always paired up for the last one, because there never were enough seats for all of them together.

“Yeah, that hat was so fucking ridiculous.” Mike leaned back in his car seat as they approached their neighbourhood.

“Cool of him to let us use the employee entrance to get in,” Will said, putting his phone away, as Mike pulled into the driveway of his house.

“And giving us free sundaes,” Max said, as they got out of the death contraption that was Mike Wheeler’s car. “Though, I suspect Erica had something to do with it.”

As Will reached into the trunk to grab the recorder, he caught Mike’s eye. He looked troubled. “Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” Will slowed stepped closer to Mike, voice low.

“Yeah,” Mike said, not meeting Will’s eyes. “I'm okay, why do you ask?”

Will was worried because Mike was affected by hauntings in a way Will was not, he was worried because Mike would suffer in silence if something was bothering him, he was worried because Mike would lie to protect people he cared about. But Will won’t let Mike be alone in his problems, because he cared about Mike too. Will opened his mouth to elaborate-

“Come on, I can't wait to hear Dustin’s snark about incomplete procedures and half-assed data,” Max said as strutted into Mike’s house like she lived there.

___

im backkk, whos excited? /jk

sorry for dying for like a week, i was so fucking sick it was hard to stand up

also i was in no state to write some psychological fuckery bc i was out of it, high on meds, so here's some madcleradin fluff, reminiscing about being kids, and byler moments, consider this like a chill post

ill be back w horror stuff in the next installment <3

as always, this was edited only by grammarly and hemingway editor, so lemme know if anything is wonky

im not promising about time anymore bc that seems to work like a jinx 💔, but ill do it soon

please tell me what you liked (comments motivate me❤️‍🩹)

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #max mayfield #byler fic #ghost hunting au #paranormal investigators au #madcleradin paranormal investigators au #platonic madwheeler #platonic madcleric #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #byler fanfic #elmax crumbs #el and lucas being partners in law #protective brother will byers

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killerlookz · 6 months ago

Note

Hiiii!

I saw your post about requesting for Joost, and idk if this is good but I'll try my best!(first time requesting something btw)

So, we all looooove some good jealousy prompts right?(or am I just weird?)

I saw some about reader being jealous and blah blah blah but how about a jealous Joost?

He isn't the type to be easily jealous he really isn't! He trusts you with his life! But... what if HE isn't enough?

He's on tour, away from you for months. He hates it but he loves it at the same time, on one side: his work is being seen, he's getting money, he's visiting other countries. But on other side... you're away from each other and it kills him.

So, one night, he just got back from a show, he showered on the hotel bathroom, he's drying his hair with a towel while he sees random stuff on insta, he sits on the fresh hotel bed when he sees one new story from you.

You're smiling and there's a friend of yours, smiling too, with a caption:"thanks for the amazing night (friend nickname) you're the best! ❤️"

And the two of you are at you favorite restaurant.

You did mentioned to joost that you were feeling lonely without him, that work was killing you and you wanted to go out... he is happy for you, of course, but... he just wishes it was HIM next to you on the photo, it was HIM that took you out. HIM that you were sending heart emojis to.

(Maybe reader and joost are dating or maybe you could do a friends to lovers on this one)

So, as soon as he's back, he's knocking on your apartment door.

He doesn't even waits, as soon as you open the door, he hugs you, he's all over you.

"Joost?! You're back already?? Oh I missed you too!"

You hug him back.

Joost lives this. This peace. This warmth. This love, his heart bursting with adoration, he wants to prove to you that he's the best, that no friend could ever replace him!

Sorry if this is not good! Anyway, thanks for even reading this!

a/n: omg thank you so much for this prompt anon! i looove a good detailed prompt, i think i stuck mainly to your request, i really only changed some dialogue to fit the story! side note... i had a lot of trouble formatting this for some reason, so hopefully this posts ok. tumbr is giving me grief lmao

Irreplaceable | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, Joost wins Eurovision (as he should), drinking, a singular dirty joke, allusion to smut if you squint, and hickies. alternating POVS, some dutch, mostly pet names (schat, lieverd, liefje), and small phrases (ik hou van jou= i love you, het spijt me= i'm sorry) this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 3,630

Your fingers sweep across the glowing keyboard of your phone. The intense bright white of the display in contrast with the dark of the restaurant that surrounds you makes you lower your eyes into a squint, the letters blurring before you.

Much needed night with my girl <3

You reposition the text to fit with the picture, a half-tipsy selfie you had taken just moments prior with your best friend, Anna. Your finger hovers over the "your story" button on the bottom left corner of your screen. You do one last scan of the photo, looking at the wide grins of you and your friend, you couldn't remember the last time you had seen yourself so happy.

You tap the button, deciding the photo is worthy to be seen by your whopping 400 Instagram followers.

"Did I look hot in that?" Anna's voice pulls you away from your phone, you place it face down against the white tablecloth in front of you. She's raising an eyebrow at you as her red lipstick coated lips curl into a smirk. She swirls a nearly empty glass of red wine in her hand.

"Of course," You grin, "When do you not?"

"Good point." She winks before raising the glass to her lips, finishing what was left in a single swig.

You'd been more than grateful for Anna taking you out tonight. Truth be told, the last few weeks had been bleak. They consisted mostly of you sitting at your kitchen counter, hunched over your computer doing work. Who knew working from home could be so stressful. You'd been completely swamped ever since a co-worker who had shared your position switched companies. Now you were stuck doing double the work for the same pay.

But maybe even worse than the stress of work was the loneliness of it. Taking a remote job had seemed ideal when you accepted the position, however, now you realized it was just like working any other office job without any of the human connection or interaction.

Your life hadn't always been this lonely, but you guessed that was the price you paid for living the city life, coupled with dating a musician.

Joost had been doing music since you met him a year and a half ago, and in that short amount of time, you never would have expected how huge he would have gotten. A summer hit in Germany and a fucking Eurovision win catapulted him into success.

Of course, you were more than proud of him, in fact, words couldn't even describe how happy you were for him. He deserved each and every fan, and each and every stream.

But being a musician meant being busy, and in particular, being on tour for weeks to months at a time.

Truth be told, during these last five weeks, Joost was on tour you had been living vicariously through videos posted online of his performances, desperately wishing you were in the crowd getting to watch him do what he loved every night. You would scroll intently in the isolating darkness of your apartment, at this point you had to have seen every angle of every single performance he'd done on tour thus far. It at least helped you feel a little less alone, watching how he smiled on stage, adoring the crowd, similar to the ways he had adored you.

You'd barely left the house since Joost had started touring, but you owed everything to Anna for forcing you out tonight. You were actually enjoying yourself.

A shadow looms over you, forcing you out of your thoughts. Your head whips to the side, and your waiter is standing over you

"Whenever you're ready." He places the black leather book in the middle of the table and nods as his lips press into a tight smile before walking away.

"Dinner's on me," Anna smiles slyly, her hand darting out and swiping the check from where it lay on the table. You can't say you're shocked by her offer, she had always been generous, but your heart is warmed by her kindness.

"Oh you don't have t-"

"Yes I do," She cuts you off. "This is your night out. Remember?"

"Thank you," You grin.

"Don't mention it," she opens the book, glancing down at the check, "Oh," She looks up at you, "Zoë asked if we want to meet her, Noor, and Hanna for drinks after this. They're at that bar a few blocks away. And seeing as I drank most of this bottle of wine, I reckon you need a few more drinks in you"

Your head bobs up and down, nodding, "More drinks sounds just about perfect right now."

Moments later the waiter is coming by again, taking the check off the table.

You look down at your phone on the table, flipping it over. The screen shines bright, revealing two notifications.

Joostklein liked your story

Joostklein replied to your story: have fun, liefje <3

A smile creeps onto your face and your chest swells with a warmth that both comforts you and stings at the same time. What you would give to have him here right now. Your thumb grazes over the screen, tapping the message to respond.

"C'mon y/n" Your head flings up at the sound of Anna's voice, "I got my card back, we should get going."

You nod, standing up from your seat, slipping your still open phone into the pocket of your jacket.

Joost lay on the stiff linens of a hotel bed. The lingering scent of his shampoo filled his nose as he took a deep breath, turning over his phone to check his notifications once again. Nothing.

It had been three hours and fifteen minutes since he noticed that you saw his response to your Instagram story, three hours and fifteen minutes since you saw his response and didn't respond.

He flips his phone back down, turning to his side, the pillow is damp against his face from his freshly washed hair. He closed his eyes and thought about that picture of you, how you smiled so wide, the way your eyes twinkled. He couldn't help but smile as he thought about it, it was almost like a reflex to him. Seeing you in such a state brought him an unexplainable warmth.

However, a part of him felt weird, a strange sense of yearning as he thought about the photo, Anna so close to you, the way you thanked her, complete with a heart. Part of him hoped that that was him taking you out to eat, him getting you to smile like that. But it wasn't, and it hadn't been him in a long time, and it wouldn't be, not for a while.

Of course, the two of you shared heartfelt messages with each other every day, and phone calls whenever you could. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as being right there with you in person. It was hard for him, and he knew it was hard for you too.

In an instant, he's thinking about the last phone call you shared, just yesterday, the way you'd broken down in tears to him, about your workload, about how isolated you'd been feeling. He tried to keep composed, but he knew that he was part of the reason you were crying, though you never outright blamed him. All he could do was gently coo to you on the other end of the phone, softly pleading with you to not cry, that you would be alright. Truth be told he wanted to curl up and die in that moment. He'd never forget the sound of your wavering voice, the way it cracked just before a desperate sob clawed its way out of your throat, "I just miss you so much."

Part of him wondered if you would ever get sick of this if one day you would wake up and realize you didn't want a boyfriend who was gone all the time.

He had no problem with you spending a night out with your friends, in fact, he was ecstatic that you seemed to be having a good time, it was the fact that he wasn't able to share that good time with you that led to the sinking feeling in his chest that he felt now. You having left him on seen had only added insult to injury. If he really thought about it, he'd much rather feel this jealousy than have you cooped up in your empty apartment all night.

He shook his head, rolling onto his side, damning himself for feeling so selfish right now.

He turned his phone over once more, and the time flashed in front of him, 1:47 AM. Fuck. It was later than he thought. His jealousy was completely replaced by worry, and his stomach flipped. Surely it was far too late for you to still be at dinner, you'd told him you'd text him when you got home.

Anxiety set in as he began to weigh his options, either he could call you and potentially disturb your night out, or not call you, leaving you unbothered, but leaving him worried about where you were. After all, what if something happened, he'd never forgive himself for not calling.

He unlocked his phone, scrolling his recent calls so he could call you. He swore he could hear his heart beating as the phone rang, once, twice, three, four times-

"Hmm hi mmbaby." Your words are sloppy on the other end, and for a moment Joost worries that he may have woken you up, until he clocks the combination of the stifled thumping of music, and screeches of laughter.

"Hoi schat, where are you?" His eyebrows furrow

"I am..." You trail off, "I am at a bar, like, i think. I think two blocks from the restaurant- wherever I was." You sigh.

"Are you drunk, lieverd, who's there?" Joost cringes at his words, silently cursing himself for his interrogative tone.

"Ummm... Maybe a little, or a lot" You giggle, "And um- Anna, duh, and... Hanna..." You pause to laugh for a moment, "Anna and Hanna," You repeat, obviously fascinated with the rhyme, "And Zoë and Noor."

"Okay," Joost sinks into the bed, relief washes over him when he recognizes the names of who you're with. "I don't want to bother, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." He's timid, it's unlike him to be so quiet, his words softly tip-toeing around his true feelings, feelings of how bad he wishes it could be him you were out with right now.

"Okay?" You repeat with more emphasis, "Not ok...I am great!"

"That's good to hear." He hopes his jealousy doesn't peak through his short words, it feels terrible, his stomach has tied itself up in knots and the guilt he feels for feeling this way strangles him.

He thought about the nights the two of you would go out drinking together, the way your eyes would light up when a song you liked played, you'd grip his hand tight, forcing him out up so he could dance with you. He'd always end up more drunk off his love for you than he did from the alcohol, no matter how much he drank. By the end of the night, like clockwork, the bartender would be shouting that it was last call, and Joost would stand at the bar, taking the remaining sips of his final drink. Your head would rest against his arm, eyes barely open. You'd complain your feet hurt from all the dancing you'd been doing, your voice thick with intoxication and exhaustion. As the two of you headed out, he'd let you climb on his back so he could carry you to wherever the pair of you were going. He'd love nothing more than to feel that now, to feel the comforting weight of your body against his back, to feel your arms wrapped around his neck, your head nuzzled against him, the warmth of your breath tickling the skin of his neck.

"I'm so happy," You state, and Joost can almost hear your smile through the phone. "M'so happy. Love my friends."

"Sounds like they're taking good care of you,"

"Yes, such such good care of me, don't you worry - they will have me back home in one piece."

"Goed, will you be home soon?"

"Mmmprobably, my feet huuuurt." You whine, causing Joost to let out a small chuckle, like clockwork, "Nngh- If only I had a tall, handsome, strong, dutch man, preferably one who is blonde and has a mustache and is also named Joost Klein to carry me home." You sigh loud and dramatically.

Your words sting, Joost knows you don't mean them to, but he can't help but feel a twinge in his chest at how badly he wishes he were the one taking you home.

"I'll carry you wherever you want when I get home, to make up for my absence, you won't have to walk a single step ever again."

Joost's face lights up hearing you giggle on the other end, but suddenly your laughter dies down, and you sigh once more,

"I think- I should go,"

"That's alright, get home safe, ik hou van jou"

"I love you t-,"

"Eyy," Joost cuts you off, "In Dutch."

"Ik hou ook van jou."

Joost <3: Flight was cancelled, I don't know when I'll be able to get on another, het spijt me, I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight.

It had been a whole eight weeks that Joost had been gone, and as you stared down at the text you just received, it felt like if you had were to spend one more second apart from him you might just explode.

Sure a cancelled flight may only delay you seeing your boyfriend for a few hours, maybe a day at most, you could still feel the tears welling up in your eyes. It already felt so late, you didn't want to wait anymore. You tilt your head back, blinking rapidly to fight the small droplets pooling in your waterline.

Your phone chimes again.

Joost <3: I'll see you soon, I promise, Oké?

You're barely able to read the message through your wet eyes before there's a knock at your door. You sniffle, and quickly dry your tears, confused at who would be knocking on your door at this time. You slowly rise up from your bed, walking with trepidation towards the door.

You press your chest up against the door, closing one eye tight to look through the peephole. As your gaze adjusts, you feel your heart slip down to you the stomach it couldn't be.

Quick, trembling fingers are racing to unlock the locks of your apartment door before flinging it open. It was.

There Joost was, standing before you. A grin plastered onto his face, he'd been holding something in each hand, a bouquet of flowers in one, a bottle of wine in the other, but still his arms were stretched out, inviting you in for a hug.

Before you can even think of a word to speak you're running into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his torso. The familiar warmth of his body heat fills your body.

He must be able to hear the sound of your heart from how loud its beating, or at the very least, feel its rapid pulses against his chest. You nuzzle your face against him, taking in the gentle scent of his cologne. It's so familiar, and inviting, and you feel nothing but overwhelming love as you let Joost overwhelm your senses.

"You don't know how much I've missed you." His kisses pause for a moment as he mumbles against your hair.

"I've missed you too," You strengthen your grip around his waist, "So much."

"Let me put this stuff down so I can give you a real hug, ok?"

You don't want to let go, not even for a moment, you'd spent far too long without him, and you feared if you let him go, even just for a second, he would disappear again. Reluctantly, you let your arms fall from his torso, sighing at the lack of warmth you feel as your body separates from his. He steps around you, leaning over to kiss your cheek as he passes you, "Stay here,"

"Huh?" You question, about to step forward to follow him into your apartment.

"No, no no- stay there." Joost quickly whips his head back around, moving towards the kitchen counter to place the wine and the flowers. He looks up and smiles before heading towards you.

His arms wrap around your lower back, beckoning for you to jump a little so you can put your legs around his hips and he can carry you. Once Joost had you steadily in his arms, he walked forward, letting go with one arm to quickly shut the door behind the two of you before placing it back around you once more.

"I told you, you wouldn't have to walk when I get back,"

"Hmm, won't have to or won't be able to?" You smirk as you push your body against his, laying your head on Joost's shoulder, he shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

"Such a dirty mind." He chastises

You place soft, passionate kisses against Joost's neck, slowly trailing up to his jaw, before eventually planting a kiss on his lips. He wastes no time in kissing you back, his lips hungrily going after your own. Your hands find your way into his hair, your nails softly scratching at his head as gently pull at the blonde strands.

Joost breaks the kiss so he can turn around, placing you on the kitchen counter. He stands in front of you, in between your legs, you wrap them around him in an effort to bring him closer to you. Your head flips to the side,

"Are these for me?" you pull at one of the flower petals with your thumb and pointer finger, feeling its soft velvety texture.

"Of course, and the wine. Well, I guess that's for us. I'll order us some takeaway, I know it's not as going out- but I promise I'll take you out tomorrow, I'll make up for every second I was gone," Joost's fingers gently grip your jaw, pulling you to face him. Your eyes meet his, deep and blue, filled with a light you missed all too well, "I'm sorry, liefje, for making you so lonely."

"You know that's not your fault." You tilt your head, pouting at his consolation. His words cut, how could he blame himself?

"It's okay if you say it is," His hand trails up your face, resting his palm against your jaw, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your cheek, "You can tell me."

You stare at him with wide eyes, your brain searching for the right words to properly convince him that he has done nothing wrong.

"No," You manage to whisper, "You don't know how happy it makes me to know you're performing every night, to know you're doing what you love."

"But if I wasn't gone all the t-"

"I wouldn't trade this situation for the world." You cut him off, staring at him intensely, hoping to communicate how deeply you mean your words.

"Okay," Joost concedes, his voice quiet, he was never one to fight you on things, "But one day, when I make enough money, I'll take care of you," He cranes his neck, planting a kiss against the opposite cheek of where his hand rests. The stubble of his facial hair is scratchy against your skin, in an oddly comforting way, it's familiar, and it reminds you of your close proximity. You sigh, drinking in the intimacy of the moment as his lips lower to your neck. He pulls away briefly, "You won't have to work another second and I'll take you everywhere with me."

A soft smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, and you cannot help the heat that floods your body as you picture your future together. It's a comforting picture, and it makes all the waiting, all the lonely nights worth it.

Your hand reaches out, tugging at the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, attempting to pull him even closer to you, like you wanted your bodies to intertwine, to fuse and become one so you'd never have to be without him again.

"I can't wait," Your words are short, your breath getting caught in your throat as Joost nips at your neck. His lips are soft, soothing the tingling pinch of his teeth against your skin.

His breath is hot, and each kiss is filled with an ardent longing. Warmth spreads through your stomach as his hand slips to the back of your neck, his fingers thread through the strands of your hair, before tugging gently, careful not to hurt you. But it is enough to make your breathing shaky and you wonder if you're even going to get to break open that bottle of wine anytime soon.

You hope he leaves a mark against your neck, you hoped he'd leave many. If you were in any space to talk, you'd speak up and tell him as much, begging for a pretty purple and red reminder of where he'd been.

As much as you ached for it, you didn't really need a mark to remind you of his love for you. You knew every word he spoke was true, how he'd make up for every second he spent without you, how as soon as he had the means to he'd provide fully for you. It was obvious, his love was warm, it was soft, it was something completely irreplaceable.

a/n: hiii!! wow my first time writing for Joost, I haven't written rpf in awhile, so i hope i did it justice! and thank you so much again anon for the request, i hope it is to your liking :-)

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #rpf #my inbox 💌#joost klein fic

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arcanadreams · 3 years ago

Text

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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floral-poisons · 3 years ago

Note

For requests, how would Cater, Vil, Idia, and Lilia react to a MC who used to be a pop idol back home? As in they catch them singing their old songs and dancing their routines?

anon, this request made me so so giddy because this idea is just stellar!! i hope i delivered on it! it also came just in time because i just got lilia's ceremonial robes sr and i also just read his vignette too. so like great timing!!

LILIA VANROUGE

“what could this be?” lilia asks, hanging upside down from the ceiling.

you scream a bit in shock and almost fall over. “great seven lilia! you scared the shit out of me!”

“sorry, sorry. i couldn’t help but be curious about what you were singing and dancing to. it doesn’t sound like anything i’ve heard.”

“oh.” your face grows hot with embarrassment. being in twisted wonderland kind of made you forget that music from your world was different. “well...it’s my original stuff.”

“really now? were you a musician?”

“ummm...no...more like a...pop idol?” you squeak.

“wait really? i see, i see.” lilia appeared to have a devious look on his face.

“what are you thinking? you have an idea and i don’t like that look on your face.”

“well since you were a pop idol back in your home world, then that must mean you’re a perfect fit for the pop music club!”

“i’m rusty! it’s been so long!”

“we need more members so we don’t disband. besides, i can prove to cater that i can bring in more members! and you are just the thing we need to attract more attention!”

CATER DIAMOND

the lack of members in the pop music club was concerning. of course, crowley was threatening disbandment if they didn’t have more members soon. and lilia wasn’t suitable enough to bring in members because of his lean towards metal music.

he just asked kalim if you were around. not for any reason other than to try to convince you to join the club (even though every other club was trying to convince you to join).

he stumbled across you practicing in the mirror, singing. you kind of missed the stage, your adoring fans, the fame of it all.

sure being in twisted wonderland was nice because no one could bother you. but you missed your old life as a pop idol just a little bit-

“hey (y/n)!”

“ah! cater! what are you doing here?”

“well kalim told me i could find you here.” he looks around the studio. “i was wondering if i could suck you into the pop music club.”

“oh that sounds great! every other club here is so boring. besides it might mean i can get back to performing-”

“wait what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“get back to performing! in my home world, i was a pop idol. dancing, singing, instruments, you name it!”

cater rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “you know what, that means we could use your expertise to get more members! come on!”

VIL SCHOENHEIT

the pomefiore ballroom was the perfect place to practice your dance routines. you wouldn’t want to lose that ability after all. plus it provided exercise without being too exhausting.

you were too lost in the moment and in the music that was in your head to notice that the door had opened.

“excuse me.” a voice coughed.

you immediately froze and turned around, seeing vil with his arms crossed. “vil! hi!”

“hello (y/n). what are you doing here?”

“practicing...what are you doing here?”

“well i was going to give epel another ballroom dance lesson but he ran away. plus i’m the prefect of pomefiore. it’s part of my routine to check each room at least once a day.”

“oh...i see, i see. don’t mind me. i’m just-”

“singing and dancing to pop songs?”

“yes.” your face went hot. “how did you know?”

vil pulled out his phone and showed you a picture of cater, you, kalim, and lilia on stage. “you joined the pop music club. i see i have lost in the attempt to have you join the film appreciation club. but i guess it makes sense considering you were a pop idol.”

“it’s okay vil i can still join- wait what?”

“you were a pop idol before, correct?”

“i was...” you squinted to read the caption before sighing. “god damn it cater.”

“you’re a lot worse than i thought.” you didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. “you should stretch more and straighten up your posture slightly. clearly you haven’t warmed up correctly.”

“i didn’t ask for your opinion.” you sigh. “i know i’m rusty.”

“well you can replace epel for his lesson. i’m sure he will be very pleased.” he smirks.

IDIA SHROUD

idia was very familiar with pop idols. he practically knew every single one. he was all into the fandoms and everything. you would find a stash of light sticks for different idol groups and idols he loved.

he preferred to do his work and eat his lunch in private, alone, in the comforts for a dance studio. there was something so comfortable about a room full of mirrors, ironically.

what he wasn’t expecting was to see you, dancing, and singing. it was a little off key but either way, you were great. you were amazing. and he was blown back.

curse his slippery fingers though. he accidentally dropped his books. “ah shit.”

you turn around, face immediately going hot with embarrassment. “uh, idia! what are you...doing here?”

“i usually come here to study or eat lunch...or something...” he mutters. “what routine is that?”

“routine? oh it’s...it’s my own.” you mutter.

“your own?”

the gears clicked in his head.

“no way...you’re a pop idol!” he exclaims.

“yes. yes i am! caught! at least back on my home world.” you sigh. “sometimes i miss them, the adoring fans.”

“well...maybe i can be your fan.” he mutters.

“oh idia. you’re so cute!”

his entire face went red and his hair turned orange. an idol just called him cute?! “oh...thank you (y/n).” idia hid his eyes underneath the hood of his hoodie.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #diasomnia #heartslabyul #pomefiore #ignihyde #idia shroud #cater diamond #lilia vanrouge #vil schoenheit

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phykios · 2 years ago

Text

If I Were A Blackbird, part 7 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

He had barely even made it into the building before Paul called him. “Hello?”

“Hey kiddo,” he said.

“Hey, Paul. You’re up kinda late.” It was eleven PM here in Mexico, midnight in New York. Paul was an early riser, even by early riser standards, and he was usually asleep by eight or nine.

“Yes, well,” he hedged. “You know. Um, Percy, can I… can I ask you something?”

“Sure! What’s up?” The halls of the Village were bare and quiet, all the good little boys and girls of the Olympics already asleep in their beds.

Save, apparently, Hazel, who was waiting for him outside his door, who perked up when she saw him. “Percy!” she said, a frown on her face which usually meant something bad was up. “I’ve been waiting for you all night! You’re–”

“–eeing anybody lately?” Paul asked. Percy waved at Hazel, the universal symbol for “sorry, on a phone call,” even as he fumbled with his dorm key.

“Sorry, what was that? I missed the first part of your question.”

The lights were out in his room. From the light of the hallway, he could see Jason, curled up in his bed, sound asleep. Ah, right–the sprinting semi-finals were tomorrow. Turning back to Hazel, Percy put his fingers up to his lips, jerking his head at his roommate.

But Hazel wasn’t deterred. “Did you know?” she whisper-hissed.

“Know what?”

“What was that?”

Shit, his stepdad. “Sorry, sorry, Hazel is here, and she was asking me a question. Um, what are you saying?”

“Percy,” said Paul. “Did you know you’re trending on my part of Twitter?”

Percy set down his wallet and keys on the counter. “What for? My race isn’t until next week.”

And then he paused.

Paul was not an avid Twitter user. But when he did go on Twitter, it was for one of a few specific reasons: a birth, a marriage, a death, big life updates and gossip, that kind of thing.

But only for a very few specific families.

“Paul,” he said, calmly. “Why am I trending on your part of Twitter?”

“It’s not just my part,” he replied. “It’s all over.”

“You’re trending?” asked Hazel.

“Who’s trending?”

Percy turned. Frank Zhang, Canadian archer, was, for some reason, at his door. “Percy is,” Hazel said to him, her frown never wavering.

“Oh, cool. Nice one.” He paused. “Wait. You haven’t raced yet. Did you test positive or something?”

“Of course not!” It was Hazel, his sweet little Hazel, who sounded scandalized at the idea, like a good cousin and fellow sportsperson should be. “He’d never do that! He doesn’t need to.”

Paul was still talking in his ear, and Percy was still not absorbing a word about it. “I had a number of my mutuals messaging me–” while Hazel was still very vigorously coming to his defense.

He was thankful when Jason let out a particularly loud snore, because it caused everyone to pause. Even Paul. His snore was that fucking loud.

Taking advantage of the silence, Percy pounced. “Back up. Start over. What are we talking about?”

“I just wish you had told me first,” said his stepdad, sounding genuinely crushed. “Though I do understand why if you wanted to keep it quiet–”

“Told you what?” asked Percy, louder than he meant to. Jason just rolled over, blissfully unaware. “Keep what quiet?”

Hazel shoved her phone under his nose. He caught a flash of blonde hair before the full picture came into focus: Annabeth, her eyes wide in panic, Percy, looking like a dumbfounded oaf, the two of them surrounded by a sea of cameras. The picture’s caption blurred before his eyes, ADHD sending the letters floating all across the screen.

His phone beeped–he was getting a text message. Maybe it was…?

But no. When he pulled his phone away, he saw that the text was from Luke. Dude read the text bubble. You bagged a–

Paul’s voice was faint over the phone. “That your girlfriend was the–”

“Percy,” Hazel was saying, “did you know that girl was a–”

Jason snored again.

He almost said a small prayer of thanks, because the sound shut everyone up, giving him time to breathe. Time to think. To read the words on Hazel’s phone, and think about Paul’s side of Twitter.

And remember what had been called out to them as the cameras had blinded them both.

“A princess,” he said. Annabeth Chase. The architect from New York, with a pretty laugh and a killer smile. Who was gorgeous, funny, smart, and… flexible.

Annabeth Chase.

Hazel, bless her, had some sort of dyslexia app on her phone. And so with a couple more breaths he was able to concentrate on the words in the article just a little bit more.

Her Royal Highness Princess Annabeth, Duchess of Södermanland.

That’s what the article Hazel shoved at him said.

He scanned through it. Not really able to process everything, but picking up on the major bits.

Swedish Princess. At the Olympics. Seen with a man in Mexico. Percy Jackson.

The Princess of Sweden was seen kissing Percy Jackson.

“Oh fuck,” Percy said.

“I’m going to guess that means you didn’t know,” Hazel said at the same time as Paul said, “Did you not see the paparazzi?”

Percy took another deep breath. And ignored Frank’s “Know what? What happened?”

Hazel removed her phone from his face, presumably to show Frank.

“I’m going to put you on speaker,” Percy said to Paul, “And then I’m going to puke.”

Frank let out a low whistle. Presumably because he’d read the article about Percy’s little misadventure.

Another snore from Jason.

If only Percy could be that resistant to the outside world.

“Who else is there?” Paul asked.

“Hi Paul.” Hazel chimed in.

“Oh, Hazel, hi.” Paul was really great about not being weird about Percy’s paternal family. Which showed a healthy constitution, if you asked Percy. “Did you see Twitter?”

“No, I have a google alert for Percy on my phone. TMZ already posted an article.”

“Wow,” Paul said, “That was fast.”

Percy groaned. It was really really fast. Why would TMZ care? He wasn’t sure he even knew there were princesses of Sweden until about ten minutes ago.

“Who are you talking to?” Frank whispered to Hazel, but it wasn’t that quiet.

“Who’s that?” Paul asked.

“Oh, um, that’s Frank, he’s an archer for team Canada,” Percy said. Then the man’s presence finally stuck in his brain. “Wait–what are you even doing here? No offense.”

“Oh, I was looking for…” And then he looked at Hazel, and quickly stopped talking.

Despite himself, Percy huffed a quiet laugh. Frank was like 6’5, with the kind of arm and back muscles you expected from an Olympic archer. Hazel would eat him alive. Or dead. As the case might be.

They always underestimated her. It was often fun to watch.

And he would much much much rather think about Hazel’s budding relationship with a Canadian than his own situation.

“Guys,” Percy said, sitting down on his bed, hard. “It’s late, and I… I don’t even know what to say about all of this.”

“I’m sorry.” Hazel said, and Frank looked appropriately abashed.

“Sorry, Perce,” came Paul’s voice over the speaker. “We’ll let you get to sleep. We need some, too.”

“Thanks,” was all he said.

“Of course,” Paul said. “I love you.”

“Thanks, Paul,” Percy said. And he meant it. Paul’s love hadn’t always been a given from Percy’s perspective. But Paul had never hesitated with it. “I love you too. All of you at home.”

“Hazel,” Paul then said. She perked up at the address. “Please give Percy the biggest hug possible before you leave him.”

“I will,” she promised.

And then he hung up with one more good night.

Hazel was true to her word, and gave him a hug that, according to the clock on the nightstand, lasted two and a half minutes. It probably wasn’t long enough.

When she was done, Frank looked like maybe he wanted to hug him too. But he held himself back. Which was a shame. They didn’t really know each other, but Frank looked like he gave great hugs.

They left after that, closing the door behind them. And Percy deliberately left his phone on the bed while he got ready.

Then he curled up into the sheets, and closed his eyes.

The camera flashed in his vision.

Princess.

Annabeth.

Princess. Annabeth.

Princess Annabeth.

Fuck.

He reached back to grab his phone. And pulled up Google.

Princess Annabeth pulled up several news reports that he was sure were about him, but the first link after that was her Wikipedia page. And so that was where he went, cheerfully avoiding any mention of himself.

Princess Annabeth of Sweden, Duchess of Södermanland (Annabeth Sophia Frederica Ingrid; born 12 June 1993) is the eldest daughter of Prince Frederick of Sweden and his first wife Sophia Pallas. She is currently second in line for the Swedish throne.

He swallowed. Second in line. That made her really close, right? He considered calling Paul back, just so he could understand, but held off, scrolling through the rest of the page.

Her picture was one of her dressed in a dark orange suit, in front of a microphone, caught in the middle of some speech. Her hair was pulled back and her mouth set in a placid smile. He recognized her, but she looked so unlike the woman he had known.

But then he didn’t know her, did he. Four dates?

He shook his head, and decided he’d learn more.

Born in Boston, like she said, while her father was getting his PhD at Harvard. Her mother had been a woman he’d met in Boston: Sophia Pallas. Which did sound as Greek as she had said before, though that wasn’t mentioned in the article. And Sophia Pallas’s name wasn’t a clickable link. Her parents had been married before her birth, it said, in a small, private ceremony after a hasty approval from the king and council, before her mother had died from complications. He frowned, a twinge of sadness running through his gut.

Poor Annabeth. But then, could you ever feel that way about a princess? She grew up in Sweden, then her father had remarried, and they’d spent a lot of time in the US while he pursued scholarship. Boston, Virginia, New York and San Francisco. She’d gone to Harvard like her father and uncle, and majored in Architecture and International Relations. Currently, she was working for a private company based in New York.

It was all so like she’d told him. Except for everything else. Tours around Europe and Asia. Speaking before the EU and UN. Charity appearance after charity appearance after charity appearance.

And then, under the subheading “Succession:” King Randolph’s wife and two daughters, Crown Princess Emma and Princess Aubrey, were all killed in a boating accident in 1992. Since then, His younger brother, Prince Frederick, has been his heir presumptive. If King Randolph were to marry again, and have children, those children would replace his brother in the order of succession. However, over the past twenty-five years, King Randolph has repeatedly stated that he had no interest in doing so, and has acknowledged Frederick as his heir.

Sweden became the first European country to adopt absolute primogeniture in 1980; therefore Princess Annabeth precedes her half-brothers Prince Robert and Prince Matthew in the line of succession. Should her father become King of Sweden, she will be the heir apparent and Crown Princess. If she ascends to the throne, she will be Sweden’s fifth Queen Regnant.

Well, that answered that question well enough. He’d fucked the future queen of Sweden. Not some minor princess, trading on a title for the old world glamor of it all, but a real life (almost) crown princess.

Shit. He’d been playing, in the back of his head, with the idea of going to Sweden after the games were over, swept up in her descriptions, and maybe a little bit in the thought of seeing her again. But he wasn’t doing that now. The last thing he needed was to get charged with treason or whatever.

Getting drawn and quartered didn’t sound like any fun.

Well damn, he recognized the feeling then. He felt guilty. Guilty for sleeping with a princess, guilty for sleeping with a future queen.

Which was stupid. She’d never once given any indication she hadn’t wanted it.

He’d slept with plenty of people before, and never felt bad about it.

So why did he feel this way?

Fuck. He couldn’t just sit here and stew. Paul was probably asleep, and he didn’t want to call Hazel back. She should be asleep, but maybe she was doing something else that he didn’t want to think about.

So he sent a text.

You awake?

I am so happy you finally texted me back

Can we talk?Please?I know its late, and shit is weird

His phone rang. Jason did not wake up, so he didn’t feel bad about answering.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kid.” Luke said, his smirk clearly and annoyingly evident in his voice. “Anything interesting happen to you lately?”

Percy groaned. “This is all your fault, you know.”

“Me? You were the one seen making out with a princess.”

“You’re the one who introduced us.”

“Yeah, I saw that her Wikipedia page says she lives in New York. She the girl from the club?”

Percy sighed. “Yep.”

“Nice.” Luke said, “I need to remember; next time I bring a girl back to my place, I get to tell her all about the time my baby cousin had Princess Annabeth over.”

“I’m so glad my shame is going to help you score chicks.” He said with all the scathing judgment he could muster, laying in a twin bed in the dark.

“What shame?” Luke sounded genuinely surprised. “Dude, you bagged a princess. That’s some classic shit. Very Perseus of you.”

“I don’t think Perseus had to deal with paps. And I think Andromeda probably mentioned the whole princess thing to him beforehand.”

“You didn’t know she was a princess?”

“Paul’s the royal watcher,” He reminded Luke. As though Luke would forget something he passively held against Paul, “Not me.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t tell you?”

“She did not.” Percy said, “She even gave me a last name and it wasn’t…” He scrolled up to the wikipedia page to see the house listed under her photo: Ynglingar. “It was in English, nothing to do with… how do you even pronounce this?”

“Ynglinar,” Luke said, like it was easy. Because the bastard was all good at languages, while Percy could barely read English.

“Well, that doesn’t sound anything like Chase,” Percy said, “which is the name she gave me.”

“I see.” Luke said. “I mean, is it that big of a deal?”

“That I fucked the future queen of Sweden? More than once?”

“Oh, nice, I didn’t know if they interrupted the second time.”

“They didn’t.”

“Nicely done.”

“Luke,” he said, “please. I’m genuinely freaking out here.”

“Okay, okay.” He could almost see it happening in real time, Luke shifting from his douchebag persona to the decently brotherly figure he was underneath. “I’m sorry. How can I help?”

“I feel bad.” Percy said. “I feel bad about this, and I don’t know why.” He hadn’t done anything wrong. What was there to feel bad about?

Luke said after a pause, “Well, if I had to guess, it’s probably because you really liked her. Didn’t you.”

“Of course.” Percy said, and then, he really thought about it.

He had liked her–a lot. Not just in a ‘I like you way’ but in the old, middle school, summer camp ‘I like you like you’ way. It wasn’t just her beautiful hair and captivating eyes, or her long legs and small, perfect breasts, but the way she rolled her eyes at him and insulted him in ancient Greek, the feel of her mouth as it smiled against his, the sense memory of her hand as she slipped it into his in some poorly lit Mexican club, sending his heart racing.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Shit. “I do like her. I mean, I did. Or… maybe I still do…”

Except there wasn’t really any maybe about it.

He could hear Luke laughing on the other end. “Well, how do you feel about becoming Lutheran?”

“Fuck you,” Percy said.

“I’m just saying, according to Wikipedia, the family is Lutheran, and the heirs have to be, too.”

“That’s not–are you trying to make me get over her, then?”

“Okay, okay,” Luke said, “How about this. The royal family traced lineage back through recorded history, to the semi-legendary and legendary kings of Sweden,” He offered. “Like… folklore says they’re descended from Norse gods and vikings and stuff.”

“That’s cool,” Percy said. Though most of what he knew about vikings had to do with the Varangian Guard. He might have studied classics, but he stuck to the languages and the written down bits of mythology. He certainly wasn’t an archaeologist, a medievalist, or an early Christianity expert by any standard.

Still, any ancient history was good history.

“I still feel bad though, Lutherans and Norse gods or whatever, or not. I just–I feel like shit, and I don’t know why. I didn’t even do anything!” He’d been the perfect gentleman. She’d been a great lay, and an even better girl. It’d been fun and easy, like champagne on a warm summer evening.

So why did his stomach still feel like it was about to drop out of his body entirely?

“I’m sorry, kid.” He said. And normally Percy chafed at the term of endearment. Had been since Luke started using it when Percy was in second grade. But today it was almost welcome, and made him unbearably homesick. “I wish I could help more. Maybe you just need to sleep the night off?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, “maybe.”

“It’s all going to work out, I promise. This isn’t the Regency era or whatever, when Lady Catherine comes and tells you you aren’t good enough for her niece.”

“It looks like Annabeth’s Aunt was named Nathalie, not Catherine. And she’s dead.” Percy said.

“There's the impertinent literalism I know and love! You’re getting better already.” Luke’s confidence was almost enough for Percy to buy it. “But seriously, Percy. Get some sleep. You’ve been going ninety miles an hour these past few days. You need rest. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Percy agreed.

“It will all be fine, Perce. I promise.”

“I sure as shit hope so.” He said, “Thanks.”

They signed off with their good nights, but Percy didn’t go to sleep. He kept on scrolling. Reading backwards and forwards through wikipedia, memorizing the lines of succession: Frederick, Annabeth, Robert, Matthew, Magnus. And her favorite causes: learning disabilities, artifact repatriation, historic preservations, girl’s education, domestic violence.

At some point, he fell asleep, phone in his hand.

But it wasn’t for long enough. In some horrible twist of fate, he was woken up by Jason’s alarm at 6 AM.

He wanted to scream. And throw a pillow. Or let an earthquake swallow up the room, and Jason’s phone with it.

But he only sat up, bleary eyed and not feeling any better.

He silenced his phone, because he knew when it hit 8 AM on the East Coast, he’d start hearing from people he really didn’t want to. And he watched Jason get ready, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with a kind of unearned, inexplicable hatred.

“Want to come down to breakfast with me?” Jason asked, “I can wait for you.”

“Yeah,” Percy said, “Sure.”

He was much slower, and less bouncy getting ready. And he was, as a general rule, a morning person. But he’d had a bit of a stressful night.

He stumbled after Jason, down through the halls and through the village, ready to make a beeline for the coffee. As they stepped into the cafeteria, he could see the heads turning, and hear the slightly charged murmur.

He got his breakfast as usual, but it didn’t stop. And Jason had found a table in the middle of the room, so he couldn’t even hide in a corner, or around a beam.

Jason was already digging in. “Hey, man,” he said, as Percy was sitting down. “Why is everyone looking at you?”

Percy dropped his head on the table with a loud thunk.

***

Annabeth thought she had some idea of what the consequences would be for getting caught making out with a random guy. Helen would yell at her, her dad would be disappointed, Mary would leak a story about her to the press, the tabloids would rake her over the coals, and they would all have a great laugh at her expense for about a month or so before moving on to the next scandal, her ill-fated kiss relegated to an interesting anecdote on a BuzzFeed listicle about royal bad behavior. It probably wouldn’t even rate a mention on her Wikipedia page.

She was wrong. She was so wrong.

This was so much worse.

The Microsoft Teams call consisted of Helen, who was actually in Mexico with her but apparently couldn’t stand being in the same room with her right now, her father, looking politely concerned, King Randolph, not at all paying attention, and a handful of PR and Parliament representatives, all in various states of shock and disapproval, including one older minister who was clearly playing some kind of mobile game.

Oh, to be a career politician who had achieved the nirvana of not giving a single fuck.

Annabeth had already had Minecraft opened while Helen introduced everyone on the call–all thirty-five people. She had something to build.

Helen had started the meeting in an absolute rage, only held in check by sheer professionalism and passive aggression. And Annabeth couldn’t even blame her ADHD for distracting her. Hans was sitting across the table from her, invisible to the camera, but hearing every word. He could catch her up if she missed something important.

“Well, your highness,” Helen finally said, “Would you like to explain yourself?”

“I don’t know what’s to explain: I went out for a walk with a friend of mine. I didn’t know there were photographers waiting for me. They took a picture when we kissed.” She tried to sound nonchalant. “These things happen.”

“Well, they should not,” said Helen, and then directed someone else to speak.

“We don’t know anything about this man, other than the fact that he likes to cause a spectacle of himself.”

“Excuse me?”

“It's getting him a great deal of press, and notoriety. He might have called the photographers himself.”

“He wouldn’t have had a need,” Annabeth argued, “He didn’t know who I was.”

“A likely story.”

It wasn’t any such thing, he didn’t even understand why she was supporting Sweden in his race.

But luckily someone else cut in, a security guy. One of Hans’ bosses, but the ones who did the logistics stuff, not the actual work of having to deal with Annabeth. Normally she didn’t like him for just that reason, but today he spoke in her favor. “We’ve determined that the leak, as it were, traced back to the hotel. Someone staying there called a paparazzi friend, who followed her car. We have no evidence to think Mr. Jackson had anything to do with this.”

“Yes yes,” Said someone else, “But what do we even know about this man?”

Annabeth felt like she could answer that question: he loved his mom, and the ocean, and ancient Greece. He had a sweet smile and beautiful eyes and a tongue that would not quit. He’d gone to Yale, but nobody was perfect.

Luckily, that wasn’t a question for her.

“The man in question,” Cut in Christiana, a PR person that Annabeth had always liked. Mostly because she was born in the 90s, had a rocking pixie cut, and didn’t act like there was a stick up her ass. “Is Perseus Jackson.”

Annabeth hadn’t known Percy was a nickname. Perseus. Like the hero. Well, he did say he was Greek.

“According to Mr. Gunderson’s team’s report, he’s the son of Sally Jackson, though the father’s name on the birth certificate is listed as unknown. Birthdate, August 18th, 1993. He’ll be 25 in just a few weeks.” Annabeth hadn’t known that either. And for a second wondered what she should get him for his birthday, before mentally shaking herself. “He’s on the USA Olympic Sailing team, a spot he won after placing first in the US trials. He also won the Hempel World Cup Series at the Princess Sofia regatta last year. He primarily lives in New York City. And his permanent address is in an apartment on the Upper East Side. though the apartment is rented under the name Luke Castellan.” Annabeth had been to that apartment. Had eaten eggs there and been eaten out there. “Mr. Castellan is an investment banker whose family has a long association with Mr. Jackson’s. His mother worked as a home aide to Mr. Castellan’s for many years. It appears the families are still close.” It was interesting that nothing had come up about Percy and Luke being related patrilineally.

“And Mr. Jackson’s family?”

“As I said, father is listed as unknown, and so we are still trying to find something. Mrs. Jackson is an author. I do believe her second book, Danaë, was a bestseller in several countries around the world, including the US, UK, and Sweden, in translation. She is currently married to a Mr. Paul Blofis, who is a teacher in New York City. And they have a seven year old daughter, Estelle Jackson Blofis. Maya?”

“He has a very positive presence on social media and no history of scandals,” chimed in one of Christiana’s assistants on the call. “He’s got over eight hundred thousand,” she paused, glancing at something off screen, “um… make that almost a million followers on Instagram alone. And he frequently uses his platform to talk about poverty and mental health issues.”

“He’s an influencer?” The scorn in the man’s, who had been introduced, but who Annabeth had no memory of, voice held no question about his profession.

“He’s an athlete,” Annabeth cut in, “a sailor. That’s why he’s here. He just happens to be popular.” The fact that he made himself popular on purpose… that was irrelevant. “He is, after all, in Mexico for the games.”

“I do not understand,” And she could see a little of Helen’s mask slipping, “how you managed to meet him here.”

“I didn’t meet him at the Olympics.” Annabeth said. “I met him right before I left New York. I didn’t even know he would be here until I saw it on his Instagram later. And he didn’t know I would be here until we ran into each other at…” she paused, not wanting to recount that particular event to everyone present, “...at a dinner a week ago.”

Hans smirked at her behind her computer.

“That is a very long time to be running around without approval.”

Annabeth blanched at Helen’s words. “I was unaware every single one of my friends needed to be approved by you, Ms. Persson. I would like to know your requirements. And also why you get to be the one making those calls.”

She could tell by the flare of the other woman’s nostrils that she knew she had spoken out of turn. But over her computer, Hans gave her a look.

“We are all concerned, Your Highness,” Helen said, “about your safety.”

“Well, as per our predetermined agreements,” she said, “I am not accompanied by Hans everywhere in New York. Because it was agreed he would cause a distraction and impact security negatively.” She took a deep breath, “After we met again in Mexico, Hans… Mr. Gunderson did a full background check. Which I believe we heard some of just now.”

She scanned the faces. Most of them looked bored. A few were frowning at her. Helen looked like she had swallowed a lemon. But Christiana was smiling and her father was suppressing one of his own.

The security specialist cleared his throat. “I assure you, Your Majesty, and Ms. Persson, we have done a full background check on Mr. Jackson. Even before last night’s event. Unless new information comes to light, this is a matter of public relationships, not safety.”

Well, score two for Hans’s boss then. She liked anyone who bested Helen.

She wished she had been able to help with that hiring process. But unfortunately, it had been made for her. Mostly by Mary, Princess Frederick. She often wondered if Helen was under orders from her stepmother to poke at her until she snapped and resorted to violence.

It was a brilliant plan.

“So, getting back to Mr. Jackson,” Another PR person, who Annabeth knew on sight, but did not know by name, said, “He seems fairly careful with sponsored content on social media.”

“And does he have any kind of career beyond social media?”

“He’s a trained classicist,” Annabeth said quickly. Her eyes went to her father and uncle, both of whom perked up immediately. “He graduated from Yale two years ago, but decided to take a break from academia for a few years to pursue his sailing career.” There was a long history of European royalty engaged in Olympic sailing. No one could fault him for that. Except perhaps for her uncle, who seemed to be bored again.

“Well, that’s not so bad.” Said someone else. She was pretty sure she was a parliamentarian. Jonsson or Jansson. Annabeth could not remember. “Though, of course the expectation, before marriage, would be that he steps away from his social media career. And possibly his sailing also, though that might be discussed more in depth.”

That launched a round of several people speaking.

Annabeth only just barely managed to get her call out of, “I’ve only known him for a few weeks! I am not asking for permission to marry him right now!” It managed to silence most people, but not everyone.

Shame that the straggler had to be the worst one of them all.

“But what color would the children be?” Asked someone else who she didn’t know. Her jaw dropped open–as did her father’s, Helen’s, and several others–and everyone began speaking all at once, again.

“Please, ladies, gentlemen–please.” Maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the flickering border around his video which caught everyone’s attention, but her father managed to cut through the digital crowd, calling their attention so he could speak. “I think it’s a little… early for that kind of discussion, minister, as Annabeth said,” he managed to get out, frowning even more firmly, and glossing over the word “early” like it was most definitely not the word he wanted to use.

The man in question harrumphed, but muted himself.

“Now, then.” Prince Frederick was doing his best to look comfortable with the topic, but the shifting of his suit jacket sleeves implied he was playing with his hands beneath the screen, twisting his fingers together. Annabeth could relate. She was doing something similar right now. “I understand that this situation is… less than ideal, shall we say, but I would hope, as the princess’ father, that you would trust my opinion on this matter.” He pulled in a breath, eyes unfocused as he searched for the right words. “My daughter has always been both highly intelligent and perceptive, not only in her diplomatic endeavors, but in her interpersonal relationships as well.” Nice of him to say, but Annabeth privately thought he might have been overselling her a little bit on that last one. “Not only that, we can hardly blame her for the sudden appearance of the press.”

“Her highness has had to deal with the press all her life,” Helen said, evenly. “She’s gone through multiple trainings–”

“Ms. Persson,” he said, shutting her up quickly. Annabeth bit back a smirk. “My point is, clearly she’s already met with Mr. Jackson on several occasions, and has judged him to be a person worth her time, without our intervention. Shouldn’t that ultimately be what matters?”

“All due respect, your highness,” said one of the ministers, “but we simply do not have enough information at this time to determine what kind of person this Mr. Jackson is.”

“I think,” her dad gently rebutted, “that Annabeth is not only smart enough, but mature enough to decide for herself what kind of person he is. Now, Annabeth.” She sat at attention. “Tell us: this Perseus–”

“Percy,” she said, quietly. “He goes by Percy.”

He smiled a bit, ducking his head. “Percy, then. Is he a nice boy?”

She nodded. “He is.”

“Then I am fully in favor of Annabeth continuing to see the nice boy if she wishes. Randolph, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Hm?” Her uncle looked up from whatever book he was reading. Annabeth caught a glimpse of ancient Icelandic runes over the camera. “Yes, very good.”

“There we are.” Her father smiled. “Annabeth, dear, now you have the king’s permission.”

Not even Helen could argue with that.

Annabeth swallowed around the lump in her throat, looking directly into her webcam. “Thank you, your majesty,” she said to the one person on this call, maybe even in the world, who believed in her right now.

Through the fuzzy Teams call quality, her father smiled.

“I think that’s settled, then,” he said, with just the barest hint of satisfaction. “As long as Mr. Gunderson and his associates continue to keep us updated if they find any more information they feel is worth reporting, I have no objections to this relationship.”

If there was still a relationship on the table, anyway. Still, her heart felt very full. She wished he was here with her, just so she could give him a hug.

Verdict delivered, the meeting swiftly concluded. One by one, the virtual participants disappeared, until the only ones left were Annabeth and her father.

He smiled at her through the screen. “Well, dear,” he said, chuckling a bit. “You certainly like to keep things interesting.”

Looking away, her cheeks faintly flushed with embarrassment, she tried to laugh it off. “I guess. Sorry.”

“No, no, I don’t mean it like that.” When she looked back, he was still smiling gently at her. “You’re having fun in Mexico? Yes?”

Annabeth nodded, sensing the unspoken question. “I am. I promise.”

It was the oddest thing of all–he didn’t question her on it. He just accepted it at face value. “I’m glad. I meant what I said, you know. Just… just be careful.” With her heart. With the nice boy. With anything else that might cross her path.

“I will.”

“I love you very much, dear.” He leaned in closer to the camera, as if he could pull her into a hug halfway around the world. “We’ll talk soon.”

Then he hung up, leaving Annabeth staring into her own video feed.

“Well,” Hans said, “that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I think I’d rather go sack a small French villiage.” The old viking princesses really had it made, she thought. They didn’t have to deal with Microsoft Teams, at least. They could have just chopped Helen in half with an ax, and not worry about what HR would say.

“Or take on a horde of draugar?” Hans offered.

“Exactly.”

“Well, perhaps, instead of that, next time you’d like to meet with Mr. Jackson, I’ll go pick him up?”

“I don’t know if there is going to be one next time, Hans,” she said, letting all her defeated weariness leak into her voice.

“Annabeth.” And he so rarely used her first name. “I know you are brave enough to take on a French village, a draugr, or even Helen and the entire Riksdag. I think you can call the one man who you just defended to a room full of people, and offer an explanation.”

He got up then, and patted her shoulder on the way out of the room. “I’ll keep Helen at bay. If you want to call him.”

“If I don’t, will you sic her on me?”

“I think not,” he said, “Because right now I’m afraid I’d come back to find an ax in her chest, and that sounds like it would be a terrible mess to clean up. If you need some time, I’ll give you some time.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“But I still think you should call him.”

And then he walked out of the room, leaving Annabeth alone with her thoughts. And the empty Teams room.

#SURPRISE #my fic #pjo #percabeth #pjo fic #the rivalry ends here #princess sailor au #darkmagyk #perseannabeth #patatayo #if u wanna be tagged just lmk

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katsukikitten · 3 years ago

Text

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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sunflowerdaisybee · 3 years ago

Note

Hey guy! Can I request a irl George x male reader please!!! So, George is obviously verrrryyy pretty and reader constantly flirts with him. After all readers begging george tells reader that he will meet up with him, but only if he does a hand reveal. Reader does it, and of course, everyone simps and is jealous of George because he is the one that caught readers attention. (And it can end with them meeting up if you want)

This was really cute and I feel like I didn’t do it justice, I’m sorry :/ I hope its still decent <3

Summary: Hand pics make fans crazy and George jealous

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: George X Reader

Pronouns: He/him but can also be read as they/them

[A/n]: Requests are open

"Hi George!"

"Hello (Y/n), how are you today?"

"Better now that I'm on call with you." You shamelessly flirted with George. Though that had become the norm between the two of you. You found it fun to tease and flirt with the pretty brunette and he just sat there and accepted it.

"Yeah, yeah. You've used that line before. Come back when you've got something original."

"How's this for original? When do I get to see your stunning self in person?" George froze for a second, you had never mentioned meeting in real life before.

"How about, never."

"Aw that's so mean. My Gogy is so mean to me." George just rolled his eyes.

"But seriously, when do we get to meet up?"

"Like I said, never." The two went back and forth for a few moments, repeating similar lines over and over again. Eventually one of them gave in to the other's bicker.

"Please can I come over?"

"Fine, you can come over when you do a hand reveal. On both twitch and twitter." George hadn't expected you to actually do it. You were a faceless, everythingless, streamer for a reason. So you can imagine his surprise when a notification popped up saying that you had mentioned him on twitter.

Clicking the notification, George was brought to a post with the caption 'Catch me on twitch for the live-action version tonight!' with a picture of your hands below.

"Holy shit, you're being serious?"

"Yeah, like I said cutie, I wanna meet you." George had flushed red, suddenly finding the nickname to be more than just teasing. Though his flustered state soon shifted into something else after he saw comments upon comments of randoms hitting on you. A couple of the comments were even from friends of yours that had jokingly made comments about how hot the hand pic is.

"This is ridiculous."

"What is?"

"All these comments." Things were quiet for a moment as both of you scrolled through the fast flooding comments.

"Are you jealous George?" Your voice had suddenly pipped up and nearly scared George to death. He was so focused on the comments that he had nearly forgotten about you.

"No." Though his actions said otherwise as he replied to the tweet saying 'You all can calm down, he's doing this for me, not you.' You laughed at his reply. recognizing that while he was joking, there was a hint of realism in it.

"Aw the poor baby is jealous, c'mere lemme give you a hug." You had switched into a baby voice, cooing and attempting to baby George. Though he was having none of it.

"Keep treating me like that and I won't come visit you."

"Oh, so you're gonna come here? Perfect."

"Shut up perv."

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years ago

Text

Missing You

Aelin Week May 4th: When Rowan is away

CW: language, NSFW

AN: just so you know, I wrote this in half an hour sooo… not my best smut. But I had a goal to do every day for aelin week and I wanted to get this out. I don’t know if it actually counts since aelin week has been over for a little while but either way I’m still proud of getting it posted :)

Aelin Week Masterlist//2031 words

Aelin was lonely.

Rowan had left for his little work conference nearly forty-eight hours ago, and after a weekend to herself, Aelin missed him.

This was not to say Aelin couldn’t handle her boyfriend being gone for two days. She was an independent woman, and she’d spent the alone time working out, chatting with friends, reading several novels—all without thinking about Rowan too much.

But she still savored his company, and it was an adjustment to lose the man who’d become such a permanent fixture in her life. Aelin knew she wasn’t just conceited in saying that Rowan surely missed her by now, too.

It was getting later in the evening; Rowan was likely out of any meetings by now. He was probably in his hotel room, maybe washing up, maybe reading something. Maybe thinking about her.

Aelin could call him now, and she’d ask about his work trip, and he’d ask about her weekend… and it would be sweet and refreshing.

But Aelin was nothing if not a tease.

Aelin wandered over to her closet, lazily sifting through the overflowing space. After looking through all sorts of tiny, sexy items, she settled on a nightgown, rather than outright lingerie. Not that it was anywhere near proper—the golden material fell partway down her thighs and the neckline dipped between her breasts. Every curve was on display, every contour highlighted.

No, this “nightgown” was pretty damn revealing.

A smirk pulling at her lips in anticipation, Aelin adjusted the outfit one last time, then selected a pair of black stilettos. After that, Aelin added some smoky makeup around her eyes, a swath of sinful red lipstick, and a golden necklace with the letter R dangling from the chain. That would drive Rowan crazy.

Aelin stepped in front of the mirror and took herself in. Plenty of people called her smug, so to hear her say she felt like she looked good wasn’t necessarily saying much, but damn.

Aelin was, unbiasedly, unarguably, unequivocally hot. The fact that she knew it had nothing to do with the verity of the statement.

Lifting her phone, Aelin brought two fingers to her mouth and sucked. She snapped a photo, then reviewed it.

With her fingers in her mouth, lined with ever-so-slightly smudged red lipstick, eyes pouty and innocent, hair flowing down in waves, body on display and stilettos in the photo… Aelin looked like someone out of a high-class bordello.

Exactly what she was going for.

Gleeful, Aelin sent the picture to Rowan with a caption of do you think this will be ok for dinner tomorrow?, never missing a chance to antagonize the man.

She watched as immediately the three dots signaling Rowan’s typing appeared, then disappeared. Then showed up again… and disappeared again. Laughing maniacally, Aelin sauntered over to the bed, dropping down on her back and holding the phone over her head to watch the spectacle.

After a few more attempts at speech, Rowan seemed to give up, as Aelin’s phone started ringing.

She pressed the answer button and said, “Yes?” as sweetly as she could muster.

“You’re going to be punished for this tomorrow,” Rowan said, voice rough.

Aelin bit her lip, willing away a shiver as warmth spread down her body. “Oh, really? What will you do with me?”

“I’m going to tear that golden piece of hell to shreds, for starters.” Aelin grinned. “And then I’m going to make sure you realize what a bad, bad girl you’ve been.”

“Hmm,” Aelin murmured, “I think I already realize.”

“No, baby. I don’t think you do.” And this time, Aelin did shiver.

“Where are you right now?”

“Hm,” Aelin sighed with an exaggerated yawn. “On our bed, relaxing. It’s getting kind of hot in here; I might have to undress.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rowan murmured.

Aelin smirked. “Oh?” She shifted on the bed, swapping the phone to her other ear so she could lie down on her side.

“Don’t take off that little getup. Not yet.”

“If you insist,” Aelin replied, her voice honeyed compliance hiding an edge of disobedience. “What, specifically, do you plan on doing to me upon your return, love? I’d like to know what I’m in for.”

Rowan’s soft release of breath that could have been an affirmation or maybe a quiet laugh echoed through the phone. “I’d start with those tits I love so much. Play with them, tease you. Get you dripping.”

Aelin bit her lip. She imagined what Rowan’s hands on her breasts would feel like; it wouldn’t be his usual manner bent on pleasuring Aelin, but rather an attempt at working her up, leading her toward a pleasure she wasn’t guaranteed to find. Not when she was in trouble.

“What next?” Aelin asked, making her voice as naïve as she could muster. Holding her breath, Aelin set the phone on the pillow and pressed speaker. Then she relaxed on her back, shifting so that her legs were spread for easy access. One hand began caressing the silky skin of her thighs.

Before Rowan could say anything more, Aelin drew the other hand to her breasts. She played with a nipple through the nearly nonexistent material of the nightgown, twisting and pinching, closing her eyes at the bite of pain.

“Then I’d wrap my hands around your delicate throat. I’d squeeze gently, waiting until your breath hitched, then I’d stop playing nice.”

Trying not to let out a groan at the words, Aelin tugged her breasts free from the golden nightgown, both hands administering attention now. She kneaded them while her eyes remained firmly shut, Rowan’s voice emitting from the speaker a lifeline. Aelin’s whole body was begging for tomorrow to come.

“I’d choke you until you were clawing at my hands, gasping for air. Anything to rough you up.”

Aelin didn’t need Rowan’s commentary at this point; here was where he would lose any last pretenses of being the nice guy. Satisfied she was edged on enough, Rowan would flip Aelin over and spank her. He’d keep going long after she was begging him to stop, only when he felt satisified.

It took a lot to satisfy Rowan Whitethorn.

Aelin’s thoughts started floating away to tomorrow when Rowan would be home and making good on his promise. She almost didn’t hear what he said next.

“How wet are you right now?” Rowan’s gruff voice asked.

Biting down hard on her bottom lip, teeth grazing hard enough to draw blood, Aelin’s fingers trailed down her body and pushed against her pussy. She almost groaned at how wet she already found herself. She’d felt it, felt the warmth flowing downward as she dressed and imagined what Rowan’s reaction would be, felt it as her hands ghosted Rowan’s narration, but gods.

“Not very. I’m finding this to be a bit of a bore,” Aelin retorted, but she was sure the breathiness of her voice gave her away.

“Is that so? Well, I suppose I should just hang up then. Maybe I can find a pretty woman in Doranelle to play with.”

Aelin squeezed her eyes shut, lust roaring in her ears like a shout. She and Rowan weren’t exactly traditional when it came to their sex lives, and she’d watched him fuck women before. It never ceased to leave her dripping.

But she wasn’t with him right now, and the idea of Rowan walking away to find someone else while she lay here wishing for him was overwhelming. He may be messing with Aelin’s mind, but that didn’t mean he was joking.

“Don’t go,” Aelin demanded.

A soft chuckle emitted from the speaker and Aelin’s fingers brushed her clit as the noise reverberated down her spine.

“What would you rather me do, sweetheart?”

Trying to regain some sense of control—most certainly a lost cause, but she was nothing if not defiant—Aelin said, “It’s more what I can do for you. I’m sure you’ve been working so hard this weekend; I wanted to help you relax.”

“That’s awfully considerate of you,” Rowan replied, but Aelin heard the faint strain in his voice. She smiled viciously.

“Does it turn you on to know how I’m touching myself, Ro? One of my hands is playing with my breast. Rough, just how you like to.”

Rowan’s ragged breathing filled the speaker, mingling with Aelin’s own.

“Where’s your other hand, baby?” Rowan asked. His voice wasn’t shaky anymore; it was gruff, almost like a growl. Aelin was hit with a sudden jolt of longing for him to be here, so that he could treat her like the whore she knew she was.

Aelin hummed as that other, unmentioned hand slid over her folds. Too gently to bring her any pleasure but enough to leave Aelin bucking her hips. “It’s between my thighs. Right where I want you to touch me, but I know you never would, not when I’m being a bad girl.”

“You snarky little thing,” Rowan murmured, and from the distance in his voice, Aelin knew he was touching himself by now. “Take off your panties,” he ordered.

“I’m not wearing panties,” Aelin whispered.

“Fuck.”

Aelin didn’t even have it in herself to be smug about his reaction, or the way he gradually began cursing in a steady stream, surely attending to his own pleasure. Instead, she was spending all of her focus on not losing control as her fingers dipped into her sex.

“I’m so wet,” Aelin gasped out, her fingers sliding across her core and pressing against her clit. “All for you, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and even through the poor quality of the phone’s speaker the effect was immediate. Aelin’s back arched and she bit her lip. Her fingers started drawing, quick, tight circles around her clit.

“You’re mine, baby girl,” Rowan murmured. “When I get home I’m going to show you just how much you belong to me.”

“Oh,” Aelin breathed, her hand still rubbing her clit, faster, harder, more desperately, searching for release. Her other hand, distracted as she was, had stopped toying with her breasts. She abandoned them fully and brought the other hand to her dripping pussy.

Aelin’s eyesight dimmed as her fingers slid inside, craving satisfaction too much to bother teasing. She gasped at the sudden fullness and bucked her hips, almost riding her own hand.

Rowan let out a low groan that sent chills down Aelin’s spine and she whimpered, wondering if he’d reached the pleasure she was still longing for.

“I need more, Rowan. I need you,” Aelin gasped into the phone.

“Alright, just let me hop in my teleportation machine and I’ll—”

“Fuck you,” Aelin snapped, pissed at his amusement. “Such fucking audacity.”

Rowan chuckled, and as much as she wanted to hate him for it, the sound send a wave of pleasure crashing over her. “Well, I would love to be there, but since that’s not possible, you’re going to have to do without.”

“Clearly,” she muttered.

Ignoring the venom in her voice, Rowan said, “You can do it, baby. I know you’re almost there.”

Aelin exhaled sharply. Her fingers had curled inside of her, coaxing herself forward. Rowan began murmuring his encouragement through the phone, and Aelin’s mind locked in on the words and the soft, dirty tone of his voice.

Finally, with one last bout of pressure to her clit, Aelin’s hearing faded to nothing as a wave of release crashed through her and swept her thoughts away. She was panting, her whole body tense. Aelin didn’t think she could get up if she tried.

“That’s it, Aelin,” Rowan mumbled.

Her head fell back, gaze glancing at the cell phone. “I love you,” she rasped.

“I love you, too,” Rowan replied. “And I love you in gold.”

A soft smile played across Aelin’s face at the words. “I’ll wear it again for you tomorrow, if you like.”

“Damn right you will.”

Aelin sighed as her head cleared from her orgasm. She shifted and drew a blanket over herself, ignoring the mess and the nightgown still draped over her skin. Then she reached for the phone and pulled it closer.

“Goodnight, Rowan,” Aelin whispered.

“Goodnight, baby.”

She fell asleep to the sound of Rowan’s voice.

———

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@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #missing you #aelinweek #aelin week #my writing

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