#this prompt was not friendly to me but we did something that's what counts right
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mcflymemes · 1 year ago
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PROMPTS FOR THINGS FRIENDS SAY TO EACH OTHER *  assorted dialogue for a multitude of friendly and platonic conversations and situations ranging from soft to dramatic, adjust as necessary
of course i love you. you're my best friend.
i really couldn't do this without you.
did you just call me your best friend?
that's what friends are for.
if you know me so well, what's my favorite color?
remember when they mistook us for siblings?
you're the only person i've ever trusted.
i know i can count on you for anything.
do you approve of them?
there's nothing i wouldn't do for you.
if something was wrong, i would tell you.
i can tell when you're lying.
okay, now tell me the truth this time.
i'm not leaving you behind.
i don't know what i'd do if i lost you.
let's not fight like that again.
i always knew you would accomplish amazing things.
that wasn't fair of me to say to you.
i'm sorry i upset you.
i know everything about you.
maybe we should go someplace fun.
will you be in my wedding?
we've been friends for years. you think i didn't know?
i figured you'd tell me when you were ready.
you called me your best friend.
if it matters that much to you, we'll do it.
i just want you to be happy above all else.
you deserve a whole lot better, you know.
i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.
you've always been there for me, no matter what.
i'd risk my life to save you.
we need a girls trip.
i know you better than you know yourself.
you don't think i can tell when you're lying?
you can't get anything past me.
as your best friend, i have to step in.
that's wrong, and you know it.
i love you, but not in that way.
we need to get out of here. just us.
you mean the world to me.
you deserve better than the way they treat you.
i think i have a right to express my honest opinion when it comes to my best friend.
the only way we survive this is if we work together.
you trust me, don't you?
we could sit for hours in silence, and i'd still love the time we spent together because it was with you.
i can tell you anything, and you won't judge me.
maybe we should take a trip together, just us.
i'm so happy for you and the life you've created.
you know me so well.
one day we'll end up in rocking chairs on a porch together, complaining about everything.
you're like a sister to me.
you're like a brother to me.
you're practically family at this point.
if you asked me to help you hide a body, i would.
no one messes with my best friend.
excuse me, but i'm your best friend. i think i have a right to know.
i've known you all my life.
i hate it when we fight.
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thebestofoneshots · 4 months ago
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.4 K Warnings: none Prompt: How could you even distract Remus?. Proofread by sweet @girlwihkaleidoscopeeyes
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Chapter 71: We've Only Just Begun
Saturday, January 15th, 1977 
Sirius had been tapping his feet against the stone and turning to look at the astrological clock in front of him as if it could tell him the time for the last 10 minutes. He had arranged a meeting with Minho here, and the Slytherin  was already 5 minutes late. 
Now, technically,, Sirius hadn’t arranged anything with Minho; rather, he had scribbled a quick note and sent it to him by paper plane, all in code, of course:  Mr. Green, please meet your Friendly Neighbourhood Dog in the measurer of the universe at 11:10 this morning. The Reds need some of your potions.
Minho hadn’t responded, and Sirius also knew Tom was going to Hogsmeade, so there was a high possibility he would be with his boyfriend instead of around the castle.. He had charmed the plane to come back to him if it couldn’t find Minho, and the aircraft hadn’t returned to him yet, but messenger planes often got lost or stuck in the weirdest places, so there was about a fifty-fifty chance that Minho’d gotten it, and was on his way. 
“Please,” Sirius said as he looked at the basket around his arm. He knew it wasn’t necessary to have wine – or any alcohol for that matter – in the picnic. He knew that Remus would love all the stuff he got,, especially the thick thermos with hot chocolate that Nimbletwist  claimed would be perfect for the chilly day. But Sirius also thought wine was the most romantic thing, and he wanted to treat both of his lovers to the most romantic picnic possible. Perhaps it was his French side, or just him being dramatic as he always was, but he wasn’t going to give in easily. At least not for the next few minutes. 
He looked at the clock again, trying to find something to distract his mind, when he noticed something not quite right with the hands. . Mars was not where it was supposed to be at that time of the year – Mars was on Capricorn, Sirius knew because Spellman had mentioned it an excessive amount of times back in December, claiming it was the perfect start for Slytherins and Ravenclaws who were disciplined and ambitious. 
Not only that but the more he looked, the more he realised how odd things were in the clock. The constellations were in the wrong order, the sun was hidden as if it were night instead of day; the moon appeared to be full  – but  the full moon wasn’t until the end of the month; and countless other oddities. 
Sirius narrowed his eyes at the clock and pulled his wand out. Waving it to try and fix the clock, when he did, the hands  started spinning around frantically, and a second later, there was a click. The face of the clock opened as if it were a door. He smiled, he was not expecting to find another secret passage in the school, let alone by coincidence, and yet there it was. Dark and smelling a little stale and musty, as if it hadn’t been opened for hundreds of years, but there either way.
Sirius leaned his head inside, there was a dark tunnel that seemed to go downwards. He looked at the door, and there was something carved on the side. “The Undercroft,” he read. It was carved almost clumsily with a knife, and underneath it there were 3 pairs of initials, SS, AS and OG. Sirius brushed his fingers over the carved wood and then looked curiously  at the dark passage ahead.
“Sirius!” he heard someone shout from behind along with some heavy shuffling. He shut the clock’s door, and stood in front of it as he turned to the voice. Minho was there, looking as if he’d been running. Tom was a few steps behind him. 
“You got the message then?” 
“Fell on Tom’s head as we were stepping out,” Minho said with a nod towards Tom. “What do you need me to get you? Firewhisky?? Icevodka?” 
“Uh… no…” Sirius said awkwardly. “I need wine.” 
“Wine?” Minho asked with a frown. The boys had never asked for wine before, only strong stuff that could be combined to make drinks. 
Tom tilted his head as he stared at the basket in Sirius’ hand. “Oh, yes, he definitely wants wine,” he retorted as he gently elbowed Minho and pointed at the basket. “I gather things turned out alright after our talk with her?”  He already knew it had (or had a strong suspicion anyway), but he was not going to miss the chance to tease Sirius about it. 
Unconsciously, Sirius moved the basket behind his body, cursing himself for not hiding it, or leaving it in a corner, not that he cared all that much that they knew what was going on. After all, without them, nothing would have been going on. “Yeah,” he responded. “Thank you.” 
“So, what kind of wine?” Tom asked with a smirk. . “White, Red, Rosé? Maybe you’d prefer something sparkling like champagne, or…”
“Tom,” Minho said as he turned to him, voice slow, drawing out the “O” a little bit, which got him to shut his mouth. Sirius wondered for a second  if that was what he and Remus looked like. He wasn’t nearly as… ‘bubbly’ as Tom, was he? Minho turned back to Sirius shortly after, “Do you have a preference?” 
“White,” Sirius responded. “If you can get your hands on it.” 
“Oh you’d be surprised what he can get his hands on,” Tom teased, Sirius laughed and Minho gave his boyfriend a rather reproachful look. 
“I think I could, but we’re going to be at Hogsmeade until the evening,” he said. “And judging by your basket, your date is sooner than that.” 
“Do you think you could owl it?”
“Well…” Minho hesitated.
“Sure, we’ll send it with my owl,” Tom intervened. “No one will link it to Min if it gets intercepted, , so no issue.” 
“But they might link it to you,” Minho interceeded, sounding slightly worried. 
“Mum sometimes sends me Cerisette,” he said with a shrug. “Say’s it’s good for a cough and whatnot. Minnie knows about it, I doubt she’d think it weird if she saw Ajax carrying a bottle of wine.”
“Cerisette? The same that you–” Sirius started.
“Yeah!” Tom interrupted rather expressively. “How do you think I get it when I bring it over to parties? I think we drank one of my bottles at James’ last year.” 
“Huh,” Sirius said with a smile. “Thanks for sharing.” 
“Well, sharing is caring. But you’d know a lot more about that, wouldn’t you?” Tom teased and got another shove from Minho who was a lot more considerate. Especially because he knew how hard  it was to accept new things about themselves for some people, how hard it had been for him, at least.
 “Where should we send it to?”
“Our dorm,” Sirius responded. “Sounds possible?” 
“Consider it done,” Tom said with a thumbs up.  “Now, we,” he pointed at himself and Minho “have to get going to our own date.” There was a hint of a smile on Minho’s face as he shook his head. “But we wish you the best of luck!” 
“Thanks,” Sirius said, and watched them move towards the other side, and then stepped forward. “No, Tom, wait!” 
He turned around and raised one of his eyebrows. “How may I help?” 
“It’s um… about the thing.” 
“The thing?” Tom asked. 
“You know. The thing.” 
Tom really had no idea whatever thing Sirius could be referring to. “Mate, I’m lost.” 
Sirius took a deep breath and averted Tom’s gaze before speaking again, “I mean… sex.” 
Tom rose one of his eyebrows. “I would have bet a hundred galleons that you weren’t a virgin.” 
“What? No!” Sirius retorted. “I know how that– I mean–” 
Tom started laughing, which got Sirius to look back at him, narrowing his eyes at the boy. “You’re fucking with me.” 
“You’d know if I was,” Tom retorted and laughed at Sirius’ expression once he understood what he meant. “Sorry, sorry,” Tom said as he waved his hand in the air. “It’s um… very similar as it is with a girl.” Sirius stared at Tom in disbelief. “Well, maybe not very similar, but it’s similar enough. Either way, there’s not much I can help you with, you need to figure it out with Remus.” 
“I mean, I get it but–” 
“I could tell you everything I know and it still wouldn’t help,” Tom said almost blatantly. “Whatever I do or like or, Minho does or likes – though perhaps Minho could help you more than I can – is different to what Remus does or likes. But use common sense, if it hurts, stop.” 
“If what hurts?” 
“How would I know what you’ll be doing?” Tom said with a shrug. “Talk to Remus, just like you talk it out with a girl. Think of the talks you had with Sly Sprite, It’ll be just like that.” 
“Well that was – it was a lot more instinctive than…”
“Woah,” Tom said as he closed his hand in front of Sirius' face. “I don’t need the details, thank you very much.” He breathed, “Just make sure you’re both comfortable. You know, ask for consent when doing something you’re not sure about and that’s it. Trust me,” Tom leaned in. “It’s just as instinctive.” 
Sirius, not feeling so sure, nodded. He was looking for more straight answers (ironically enough). Before he did it with a girl for the first time, he already had a pretty good idea of what he could or shouldn't do. And with you he had been confident from the start, he knew what he had to do, and he thought that was the reason the two of you had had such a great time. But when it came to him and Remus, he knew he wanted to touch and feel and see, but he had no idea where boundaries were, and he had never been so lost. 
“Let him guide,” Tom said with a smile as if he’d read Sirius’ thoughts. “He’ll know what to do, just have fun.”  And then, almost as an afterthought he added, “I’ll send you a book with some spells that might help with it.” 
“What? Spells? For what?” 
“Oh, you’ll know when you read them,” Tom said with a confident nod.
“Right, thanks,” Sirius said sheepishly. Tom sent him a short wink and caught up with Minho in a matter of seconds.
Sirius watched the two of them go before he turned to look at the clock again. The marauder part  of him wanted to see what was inside, while the  romantic and eager boyfriend part of him  was jumping out of his skin to go back to his room before you brought Remus to yours to check on Nieve. He looked at the clock one more time, bit his lip and pointed at it –as if to tell the clock not to move– before sighing and walking towards the stairs. As  he was walking past one of the corners, he heard your voices.
“It’s a terrible idea,” Remus was saying. Sirius could almost see the shake of his head as he leaned behind one of the columns; and he hastily threw a disillusionment charm over himself. 
“I mean, imagine having some of it on your birthday, or James’! I’d say Lily’s but she might not love the idea.” 
“On my birthday? You want us to use it on my birthday?” 
“Well, why not? We had an incredible time on Halloween and we were all pretty high on Tom’s potion.” 
“That was an accident! And I ended up kissing someone I didn’t even fancy all that much.” 
“Well, if you hadn’t left,” you thought as you remembered the way in which you had been dancing with him, how Sirius had straight up licked his face. “Perhaps things would have turned out differently. I could have noticed something and–” 
“I highly doubt it,” Remus said in that infuriating logical way of his which got you huffing in frustration. . “You think Sirius’s still with Slughorn?”  
“He probably is,” you retorted with a shrug. “You know how he is when he has something to talk about…” 
Sirius, who was still listening in to the conversation, perked his ears at the sound of his name, feeling somewhat excited for being in your thoughts even while he was away, if he knew how often he was in both yours and Remus’ thoughts when he was away, he would flip out. 
“But we’re meeting him later, right? I think we should figure out how to tell Peter.” 
“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “He said to wait in your room after we're done,” you shrugged. Your voices became distant as your steps echoed through the hall. Sirius leaned his head past the column and smiled as he saw you walking side by side. You had a couple of flowers in your hand and Remus carried a book, shoulders brushing together as you walked. Sirius bit his lip, tempted to sneak behind and both scare and surprise the two of you, but decided that preparing the date – the first one the three of you would have – was the endeavour of higher relevance.
Once he made sure you wouldn’t see him, Sirius  continued on his way to the common room, taking the scenic route instead of the fastest way to the dorm to make sure he wouldn’t bump into you both. 
When Remus and you arrived at the Common Room it was almost empty, save for  a few first years near the fire, one of which  smiled when she spotted you. “Hey!” she said. It was Addie Watts, the little girl you’d helped when you got to school for the first time. She looked at Remus’ still dirty face and frowned. 
“Nice to see you, Addie,” you said with a smile. “How’s that essay going?” She’d mentioned something about a very tedious essay when you saw her after the snow fight – she’d left it on the snow near the fire and everything got smudged by it. 
“Handed it in on Friday,” she beamed. “Got an  Outstanding, Slughorn said that bit about measuring twice was a great addition, thanks. Is… he okay?”
“Rushroom,” Remus said with a defeated sigh. . 
“Actually, it was him that taught me that,” you smiled as you pointed at Remus  with your thumb. “He’s really good at potions.” 
“Well, then. Thank you too, Remus!” He smiled shyly  in response. “You’re working on a potion?” Addie  asked as she pointed at the flowers in your hand. “Or did he give them to you?” 
“We’re working on a potion,” you said with a smile. “For a sick owl. Remus is helping me because of how good he is at this stuff.”
“Just not really good with Rushrooms I guess,” she laughed, Remus let out a small breathy chuckle. 
 “And you? Another essay?” you asked, changing the subject. While Rem’s face was still filled with gooey stuff, you wouldn’t say he looked  that bad. At all.
“Oh, this?” she asked as she pulled the paper. “Not at all, I’m writing a story.” 
“Yeah? About what?” 
“Cowboys,” she replied, “In space.” 
“That sounds interesting. Mind if we have a read once it’s ready?” 
“Sure.” She shrugged. “Good luck with your potions,” she added and turned to Remus,  “and your cleaning up…” 
“Good luck with your story!” He replied with an amused smile as he shook his head.
As Addie  turned back to her paper you turned to Remus and shrugged, nodding towards the stairs. The two of you walked up to the girls’ section and disappeared into your room. As he lingered by the door you kneeled down next to Nieve, she had been perched next to a pillow in the floor by the window; she cooed when she noticed you, assuming you’d bring her some food, and seemed a little displeased when you showed her what you had in your hands. Which got you to laugh. Remus watched the entire scene from his place by the door, almost in a trance from how beautiful you looked when you laughed. 
“I’m sure Lily will  have more treats for you later,” you told her, “But you’ll have to wait just a little bit for me to give you something.” The bird chirped in response, and you turned to look at Remus, still leaning by the door. “Well, come in,” you said as you gestured towards the rest of the room. “I don’t bite…” you added, and smiled when the next thing came to your head, “unless you want me to.” 
Remus tilted his head towards you and gave you an impassive and yet somewhat amused face. You just smiled a little wider, winked and leaned over your trunk to look for a towel for him to wash his face. You threw it his way and he caught it with ease, already on his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running and turned back to the trunk, focusing on finding some of the flasks and tubes you’d need for extracting. 
“Is it all gone?” Remus asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, still patting the towel on the sides of his face. 
“Mostly,” you responded, leaving the flasks on the floor, pushing yourself up and walking towards him. “You still have a bit on  your hair.” You took the towel from his hands and, using one of the wet sections, started to wipe off the small bits he hadn’t. 
“Is it better if I sit?” He asked with a quirked eyebrow when he realised you were standing on your toes.
“Probably,” you said as you bit your lip. Remus sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned closer to him (almost necessarily so), standing with  before you continued to brush some of the gooey stuff from the side of his face. You were as gentle as possible, but you had to use some extra pressure  sometimes; ; Rushroom was always a pain to remove.. “If I'm being  too harsh just tell me, okay?” you said softly. 
Remus looked up at you and smiled, nodding and wincing because the small movement ended up in a sharp hair pull. 
“Sorry,” you said. 
“It was my fault,” he responded reassuringly, patting your leg on the side softly.
You smiled, looking down at his hand for a second before turning back to his face and dragging the towel just above his ear where there was a rather thick blob of the gooey stuff. It was stuck to his hair, so you were careful as you tried to pull it off the strands. All the while he was looking at your concentrated face, almost completely hypnotised. 
“Think I’m almost done,” you whispered  as you continued, now using your nails to try and spare some of his strands from getting pulled too harshly. He hummed softly in response. You pulled another bit and then used the towel to wipe the rest clean. “Done.” 
“Sure?” He asked as he looked up at you. 
“Yeah, why?” You asked as you looked at the side of his face carefully, completely missing the small, teasing smirk on his face. With no response, you were forced to look at his face as a whole to see if there would be an answer there, only to realise he had a pleased smirk on his face. You pulled your head back just a little, straightening your shoulders and biting your lip when you figured out what was going on. “Actually, I think you might have some… here,” you said as you pointed at the corner of his lips. 
“Do I?” 
“Mhm,” you retorted, taking one corner of the towel that was still slightly wet and brushing it over his lips slowly, looking at them shamelessly as they stretched under your fingers  and then bounced back to their right position, then let the towel “clean” the section that was still stained.Using the rough texture to tease Remus further. 
“Is it gone now?” 
“Kind of,” you said with a small smile, “Maybe it needs a little bit more persistence or more moisture…” you added and leaned closer to him, licking your lips and pressing a small kiss on the side of his. You were smirking as you pulled back. 
“Did it work?” Remus asked with a breathy calm tone, nothing in comparison to the rapid�� beating of his heart. 
“Not sure,” you replied, “Maybe there’s still a little bit left.” 
Remus raised one of his eyebrows as you leaned in again, this time around, he turned his face just enough for your lips to meld  into his, as he placed both of his hands on your lower back to bring you even closer. He was soft and  tentative as he kissed you, much softer than he’d been in previous times, almost like he wanted to savour every second of it. 
When you finally pulled back you were both smiling in between heavy breaths, and he asked in a raspy voice, , “Is it gone now?” 
You licked your lips again as you shook your head and let out a small, airy chuckle, “I think so,” you said with a smile. “Perhaps we should–” 
Some strong chirping from the side got you to look towards the floor. Nieve had her beak around a small bag of jerky inside Remus’ backpack. She was chirping because  she couldn’t quite take it out, as it was squashed by other books. You started laughing, letting your head fall on his shoulder. 
Remus turned his head towards your soft hair, smiling as he felt the trembling of your laughter against his body. He was always delighted  to hear you laugh, but it was ever the more pleasurable to have you laughing while pressed against him like this. “She’s really working that bag,” he commented. . You could feel how he moved his head to look at the impatient owl, his hands still on your back, softly caressing you over your thick school jumper. 
“We should probably work on that brew,” you said, and Remus could hear the slightly reluctant way in which you said it, as if you also didn’t want to move away from him. 
“We could probably stay like this a little longer.” he said, a bit needy and quite irresistible.
You moved your head a little bit to the side , trying to sneak  a quick  look at the clock without him noticing, you didn’t want either of you to be late to the date Sirius was preparing. Even if at that particular moment staying there together seemed just as  tempting. “No, no,” you said as you pushed yourself off, now standing in front of him like earlier. “We need to finish that extraction.” 
“Do we really?” He asked with a pout. 
You were tempted to say no and go back to snogging him. “Yeah, we do…” you breathed reluctantly, leaning in to press one more  quick kiss to his lips. “Come on,” you added as you pulled on his hand so that you were both sitting on the floor. 
He took the flasks you’d already taken out and started setting up the distiller as you went back to your trunk to look for the missing stuff. 
You took out a few more flasks before turning to look at him again. “Am I missing anything?” 
“Potioneer Water,” he said as he set the proper equipment  over a small crystal stand, centering it with a wave of his wand. He was sitting crossed-legged on the wooden floor now, with the book Professor Folly had given you on his lap, as he compared everything that you’d written on  the ingredient list. “If you have some pixie dust you could speed the process up, apparently.” 
“Pixie dust?” you said as you rummaged through your vials, pulling out a nice “potioneer set” you’d gotten for Christmas a few winters ago. You’d forgotten how big it was once you opened it and about 5 different cabinets sprang out of it. 
“That’s pretty cool,” Remus said as he leaned closer to you, admiring the dark walnut of the box and cabinets. “Almost as nice as Slughorn’s.” 
“Mum gave it to me when I got top marks on potions in my first year,” you said, not quite allowing the pang in your heart as you thought of her to bring you down. “Sorted!” you said as you pulled out a small bottle. “I knew I’d have some in here.” 
Remus gave you an apprehensive look, noticing the small shift in your voice as you changed the subject before it affected  you. He sighed but took the bottle you offered him and started pouring some of the liquid into one of the vials. You took a tiny bottle with pixie dust out and leaned closer to him, closing the potioneer set and throwing it back into your trunk. “Mind helping me with the petals?” 
“Sure,” you said as you took the flowers and started pulling them off, one by one, the velvet-like surface brushing against your fingers as you gently placed them on top of a small cloth napkin. Once you were done with the first St. John’s Wort, you went for the next one. 
“We also need the anthers,” he told you as he saw you leaving the flower on the side. 
“Seed-like thing at the end of the stamen, right?” you said as you took the flower back in your hands. 
“Yeah,” he nodded as you started pulling them out with your nails and placing them on a different cloth napkin. Once you were done with that flower, you moved to the next one. Remus had used one of the enlarging pots for extra  space, and he was carefully cutting the petals with potioneer scissors before letting them fall through the small hole in the round vial. You stared at the way they gently floated on  the water as you continued to remove the anthers from the stems. 
“These also go in there?” You asked as you finished with the last one. 
He shook his head in response. “No. We should give them to Nieve  as snacks,” he explained. “The book said they were really good for swelling and that they could also work as antidepressants. But we have to rinse them in some water first.” 
“I’ll work on that,” you said as you took one of the unoccupied vials and allowed him to continue with the distillation. He had already connected everything and was now placing  the small firestone he’d turn on for the steaming process. “Will that be enough?” you asked as you looked at the stone, using your wand as a spoon as you rinsed the seeds in the water. 
“Not sure,” he said honestly, looking at the dark stone that was about the size of a thick gobstone. When you bought these firestones, , they were a little larger than the palm of your hand, the absolute perfect fit for a burner dish. In classes, you normally used alcohol burners, but firestones were much more practical to carry around (even if a little more expensive). Remus continued “I might have one in  my bag, care to look?” 
“Not gonna find anything weird this time around?” You teased as you pulled his backpack from the bed. 
Remus groaned and hid his face on his shoulder, “Will I ever live that down?” 
“Hell no!” you smiled, already digging through his bag to try and find the small tin box that usually contained the firestone. “I mean, you had a whole strip of those muggle rubbers, , it was hilarious.”
“Torturous is  more like it,” he retorted as he shook his head and closed the lid on the round vial. 
“I think I’ve got it,” you said, pulling your entire arm out of his bag. There was a metal tin in your hand with a  firestone logo on the lid. . You opened it and carefully levitated it towards the burning tray he’d already set up. It was a bad idea to touch firestones with bare hands if you didn’t know when was the last time they had been used, since they normally retained heat for weeks after being turned off. 
“I don’t think I’ve used it since I bought it,” he informed as he adjusted the tray and shot a small flame from his wand to turn the stone on. 
“There was nothing funny this time around by the way,” you said as you gave one last look at the bag and then placed it next to you. 
Remus raised an eyebrow as he turned to you, for a second he’d swear you sounded at least slightly disappointed, which somehow got him to feel bold enough for what he said next, “I store them away from prying hands now.” 
You turned to him with an amused smile, about to say something, when the cuckoo clock you use to wake up started making a fuss . You turned to it with a small frown, you had not programmed it to make a sound at – you checked the clock – Noon??? Already? 
You wondered if Sirius was done with the preparations for  the date as you stood up to look at the clock. “Is everything alright?” Remus asked.
“Mhm,” you said as you reached the clock. There was a tiny piece of rolled parchment  stuck to the beak of the little metal bird, who in turn, looked rather annoyed as it  tried to get rid of it. . “Hold on  a sec, little one,” you said as reassuringly as you could, as you held the small bird in your hands and unstuck the paper. 
Once it was out the bird chirped, gave another cuckoo and went back to its  little home with a rather indignant flip of the head. You took the piece of paper and unwrapped it. 
Awake now, sleepy head? I made sure your roommates would stay asleep with some silencing charms around their beds. It’s been a while since we’ve talked, and I’ve heard some rather unfortunate stuff about you and Christmas; the ghost and portrait gossip is all over the place. Anyway, thought of checking up on you. Meet soon? Secret spot? Use your charms, Peeves has been  patrolling with the Slytherin prefects.
Jackdaw 
“And?” Remus asked when he thought you’d finished reading the note. 
“It’s from Richie,” you said with a shrug. “I think he messed up his prank, though. This was clearly meant to go off at  midnight. . He probably thought it would be funny to surprise me late at  night.” 
“Would it have been?” 
You shrugged, “Not for me, but the intention is what counts and now I believe I should think of a little revenge anyway, ,” you smirked. “He wants to meet me at the secret hideout.” 
“The snogging  spot he showed you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah,” you said and then turned to look at him. “Why? Want to come along?” 
“To your ghost chats?” 
“I was thinking of the secret spot more than the ghost chats but I guess that too,” you teased again. “We could leave this here, right? no risk of fire?” 
“What? Like, right now?” he asked, turning to you. “I mean, It’s going to take a while,” he said as he looked at the slow-falling drops that had just started to condense from the distilling process. And as you thought about it,  you could also just snog him  right here in your  room, if that’s what you wanted. Unless you wanted something else. “Why?” Remus asked. 
“I was thinking we could get some music from your room,” you said casually. You had no idea how you’d bring him back to his room until 5 seconds before you said that. 
“Not sure about leaving the fire by itself though. You know it’s never a good idea to–” 
“But firestone is self-extinguishing, isn't it?” you reasoned. “Once the water is out it will turn itself off. I mean, have you ever heard of a fire caused by firestone?” 
“No, but–” 
“Well then?” You said with a smile. 
“In the rarest case that something did happen, you wouldn’t really want to be the cause of a fire in the Gryffindor dorms, would you?”  You huffed in return, he was right, extremely right, and yet you had to find a way to get the two of you to his room. “You could go get the music, I’ll just stay here and watch,” Remus suggested.
Not a solution. “How about you get the music then? I’d like to see what you pick.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Ideally we’d pick something together, but yes,” you added with a confident nod.
Remus bit his lip, and looked at you as if to search for confirmation; although there was definitely something about you that he couldn’t quite pin down, you seemed quite certain about having him go instead. “No teasing if you don’t like my picks,” he warned, pointing a finger your way.
“There is no way I won't  like your picks,” you said with a confident smile and a wink, extending your hand to his to help him stand. 
“Hope you don’t regret those words,” he smiled, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on  the nose before fully standing up. You looked up at him with a dumb smile as he walked outside. 
The second the door closed behind him, you picked up your wand and pointed it at the firestone, “Extinguere,” you muttered. Normally you could just silently cast it, but with firestone (that already ran hot for weeks after being used) it was much better to articulate perfectly. Once that was done, you levitated towards its box and made sure it popped as you closed it. 
Nieve chirped from the side and you turned to her with a smile. “I’ll have this ready for you later tonight, alright?” She chirped again and you took out some of the treats you had stored for Reese and gave them to her. She seemed pretty happy as she took small bites and moved around them curiously. A movement that was particular to younger owls and oddly reminiscent of a pigeon. You levitated the contraption  for distilling on top of your desk to make sure nobody would trip on it, and walked over to the bathroom to give yourself a quick once-over.
This was your first date with the boys, should you change your uniform for something nicer? You bit your lower lip as you looked at your reflection, not knowing if you should do something special or not. You ended up walking over to your trunk and digging through it. A dress? you wondered as you looked at some of the stuff you had. Skirt and blouse? You glanced  at the clock. You ended up changing your uniform for a slightly shorter skirt and one of Remus’ jumpers, before casting a disillusionment charm and walking downstairs. 
You thought that perhaps Remus would already be in their room, so you pretty much ran towards the common room only to discover he’d been held up by Johnathan Ackley, who was trying to convince him to give him a hair for polyjuice. He claimed it was for a class, but Remus, and perhaps anyone who got asked, would have known Slughorn would never ask his students for such a thing. 
“Sorry,” Remus said. “Perhaps you could use one of yours?” 
“Slughorn said it had to be someone else’s, please?” 
“Not happening,” Remus said with a soft shake of the head. 
“How about I give you 5 galleons?” 
“Not even for an endless supply of chocolate, mate!” 
You tried not to laugh as you looked at the two of them and walked upstairs, this time to their room. Once you were there, you opened the door only to find Sirius frantically arranging  some things  on  the blankets  he’d laid out on the floor. 
He looked up only to see the faintest of shadows walking inside. “Starshine?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes in your direction. 
You closed the door, deactivating the spell as you did. “Need help?” you asked as you kneeled  down next to him. 
“Just making sure everything’s where it should be. Where did you leave Moony?” 
“He got held up by Johnny Ackley wanting to make a polyjuice brew out of him,” you said with a smile,  looking at the set up and raising an eyebrow at Sirius.
“Oof, our boyfriend is causing some heartbreak by saying no,” he smiled. 
“I mean, I would never give any of my hair to Johnny,” you said as you remembered when he’d asked. “Recipe for disaster.” 
“But Moons is too nice, he could be persuaded.” 
“By you, me or Prongs, there is no way he gives his hair to Johnny,” you said as you picked one of the grapes laying about, but Sirius waved his hand and the fruit went back to the bowl it had been on. “Hey!” you protested.
“You can eat them after he arrives, it took me a while to stack them up.”
You looked at the bowl and then turned to him again, “You didn’t stack them up!” you said with an accusing frown. “You just placed them there!” 
“You can’t prove that,” he replied haughtily. “For all you know, I placed them grape by grape.” 
“They’re still on the stems! !” you argued. 
“And?” 
You huffed in amused disbelief and picked out the entire bunch. “Hey!” he complained, taking your wrist in his hand and trying to pull  it away from the bowl. You just smiled further and tried to levitate the grapes  away from him with your wand. You had just gotten a hold of them  when he grabbed your hand, forced you to drop the grapes in their place and pulled you towards him, spinning you around until he had you on his lap, pinning both of your arms crossed over your chest so you wouldn’t be able to manoeuvre your way out.  
“Sirius!” you complained in between laughs, turning to look at his smug grin as you shook your head. He smiled brightly and was about to say something witty when the door burst open. He smiled. Finally. 
You also turned your head towards the door, the two of you beaming when you spotted your tall boyfriend. “Surprise!” Sirius  blurted out, echoed by you. You were both beaming  as you saw Moony staring  at you, still at the door, confused and astonished. .
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Series Masterlist | Next Chapter
TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversauru @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies @barking4you @profoundpidgeon @nagareboshi-chiyo @x4ramyluv @bookishbabyyyy @panhoeofmanyfandoms @randombibitc
A/N: I am BAAAACK... Hope the universe has been treating you as delightfully as it should be while I was gone. Dad's surgery went well, and we're finally back home, things are looking bright for the next few weeks! Which means GC is going to get updated as it used to (hopefully xx) Love, Lils
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azzibuckets · 1 year ago
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This is sort of a long and specific request but I just have this idea of an ansty fic idea for pazzi or reader.
azzi gets her wisdom teeth out and she’s like all loopy and when paige takes her home, they are all cuddled up. Azzi talks about the love of her life in third person and paige doesn’t realize it’s her until she does… but basically she’s like heartbroken until then.
loopy in love [pazzi]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: i know i said i was taking a break from pazzi fics but god bless anon for giving me the best prompt i’ve ever read
word count: 1.5k
masterlist | part 2
“Make sure she takes acetaminophen or ibuprofen if she feels any pain,” the nurse instructed. “She can also sleep with an extra pillow tonight to support her neck and help circulate blood flow.”
“Alright, thank you. I’ll keep all that in mind,” Paige said gratefully. She looked over at Azzi, who was slumped in the chair. Her eyes were dazed and her cheeks swollen with numbing from anesthesia, but Paige’s heart warmed. Azzi had never looked cuter, she thought.
“I understand you guys are basketball players?” The nurse looked up from her clipboard of sheets with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah. How long is she out for?”
“No strenuous activities for at least three days, and definitely no cardio for five. We don’t want any rebound swelling or bleeding,” the nurse explained. “Other than that, you just need to sign her release form, and then you guys are good to go.”
Paige nodded, accepting the paper the nurse handed her and starting to work her way down the page. The nurse walked over to Azzi. “Make sure to keep biting on the gauze, okay hon? Your girlfriend can help you replace it with a fresh one every 20 minutes.”
Paige’s head snapped up from reading the fine print. “Oh, uh, we’re not dating.”
The nurse looked taken aback. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I just assumed…” she stared uncomfortably between the two of them. Paige flushed, knowing that the way they’d entered the office a few hours earlier hadn’t exactly looked very friendly. Paige’s hands had been wrapped around Azzi’s waist as she’d whispered reassurances in her ear.
“No, it’s okay.” Paige scratched the back of neck. “We kinda get that a lot.”
The nurse nodded awkwardly before hurriedly making an excuse to leave the room. Azzi wrinkled her nose, eyes following her out. “Did she think I had a girlfriend?” she slurred.
“She thought we were dating,” Paige breathed out a laugh as she signed the form.
“Ew!” Azzi gagged on her saliva. “I’m sorry, but we could never be together.”
“Geez,” Paige muttered, trying not to let the younger girl’s words sting too much. “I didn’t think I was that that revolting.” Paige turned the form into the receptionist before helping Azzi out of her chair. “Up we go,” she said softly. Azzi stumbled, but tightened her grip on the blonde’s arm to keep steady.
In the car, Azzi stared moodily out the window. Paige chuckled; she’d expected for the anesthesia to make Azzi more quiet and subdued, even though a part of her had wanted a loopy and crazy Azzi to laugh at. “You okay?” she asked.
Azzi started sniffling, and that’s when big tears started rolling down her cheeks.
“Woah.” Paige almost braked the car. “Hey, Az, what’s up?”
“I miss her!” Azzi cried out, folding her arms like a grumpy toddler. “Everything hurts and I can’t feel my tongue and there’s blood and I just want her.”
Paige’s heart sunk. She knew she should be supporting Azzi right now, who was so out of it from the drugs, but she couldn’t help but welcome back the burn of jealousy she’d gotten so familiar with the past few years. Pining over your best friend in secret was not an easy thing, but it was something Paige had become awfully good at.
“Miss who, babe?” Paige asked gently. “I can call whoever you need.”
Azzi dramatically threw her head in her hands. “Nooooo!” she wailed. “You can’t. Or else she’ll know.”
Paige bit her lip. “Know what?”
“That I’m in love with her!”
Paige sucked in a breath. Lately Azzi had been acting distant, coming back to their apartment late at night and making excuses for missing their movie nights. Paige had had a creeping suspicion that Azzi was talking to someone new, had been spending her hours with a new girl or guy she’d met. She’d tried to respect it - she knew Azzi would come to her and tell her if the relationship ever evolved into something serious. She always did. And now here Azzi was, confessing in her stupefied state.
“You’re in love with someone?”
Azzi leaned her head gloomily against the window. “You don’t understand, Paige.”
Paige hesitated. “I understand. I’ve been in love before.”
“No,” Azzi insisted. “You don’t. You don’t understand.”
Paige laid her hand over Azzi’s in an attempt to pacify her. “It’s okay, Az,” she soothed. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. Let’s just get you home first, yeah?”
Azzi snatched her hand away. “Of course you don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, shifting in her seat to move further from Paige.
Once they reached their apartment, Azzi seemed to be in a slightly better mood. “I’m hungry!” she exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind them, immediately making a beeline for the kitchen.
“Uh uh,” Paige denied, running so she could stand between Azzi and the cabinets. “You’re not allowed to eat anything for a few hours.”
Azzi pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. “Pleaseeeeeee?” she whined.
Paige stifled a laugh at how adorable the younger girl was being. “I’m sorry, but no,” she said firmly.
“Ugh!” Azzi aggressively brushed past Paige, knocking her shoulder as she stormed out of the kitchen. “You hate me.”
“Quite the opposite.” Paige followed Azzi as she flopped angrily down on the armchair. “Stay here, alright? Imma go get some pillows and blankets for you and we can watch a movie?”
Azzi didn’t respond, staring grumpily at the dark TV. Paige rushed to gather the softest and biggest blankets she could find. She cursed at herself for not setting up the couch earlier. Now Azzi had to sit there waiting for her. Once she got everything, she threw it on the couch and tried to make it the most comfortable, padded blanket and pillow ridden couch in the history of all couches. “Come on Azzi,” she encouraged in a sing song voice. “Sit on the couch. It’s super comfy.” She patted the couch.
“Will she be there?” Azzi asked hopefully.
“Be where?” Paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“On the couch. With me.”
The blonde rolled her eyes, trying to hold in her exasperation but failing mightily. “Are you talking about that girl again?”
“Yes,” Azzi breathed out dreamily. “I think she’s it. She’s the one for me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Even before the surgery she was the last thing on my mind.”
Azzi sounded way too detailed right now to be talking randomly from being hopped up on drugs, which finally confirmed Paige’s suspicions. There had to be an actual girl that Azzi was talking about. She made a note to ask about it later, when the anesthesia wore off. Azzi had never spoken about anyone like this before, so this girl must be a big deal. A hot shot, Paige thought moodily to herself. But she’d support Azzi, like she always did whenever she started something new with someone. Don’t let her know, Paige reminded herself.
“So? Did you call her?” When Paige didn’t respond, too lost in her thoughts, Azzi’s bottom lip started to tremble. “You said you would!” Paige rushed to her, rubbing her back in the way she knew the dark haired girl liked.
“I don’t have her number, Az,” she said gently. “I’m sure we can get her to come over later, though.”
“She’s so pretty and she’s so kind,” Azzi said, now sobbing again. “I just want her here. Everything is always better when I’m with her.” She leaned into Paige’s embrace.
“Come on, Az, let’s sit on the couch, alright? Let’s put on a movie and you can try to sleep the anesthesia off,” Paige prodded. At last, Azzi got up from the armchair and sat reluctantly on the couch. Paige grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around the younger girl. She made sure to stuff extra pillows under Azzi’s neck. “Comfy?”
Azzi nodded. Her tears weren’t flowing as heavily anymore, which Paige took as a good sign. “What do you wanna watch?”
Azzi perked up. “Cinderella.”
“Cinderella? When did you get into Disney?” Paige laughed, but she put it on.
Azzi nestled into Paige’s chest. “Cinderella looks like her,” she sighed happily. “Which is why I like it.”
Paige’s heart started beating rapidly. “What does she look like?” she asked slowly.
“She’s blonde. Has the bluest eyes ever,” Azzi murmured. “And she’s sooo good at basketball. You would love her.”
Paige bit the inside of her cheek. Was this really happening? There was no way this girl Azzi was speaking of was her. She felt excitement rush through her, but she tried to tamp it down. She wasn’t the only blonde, blue-eyed basketball player in the world. Feeling slightly guilty that she was interrogating her best friend in this state, she asked, “What’s her name, Azzi?”
Azzi inserted her leg between Paige’s so that their bodies were now intertwined. “Why does it matter?” she muttered, her words muffled by Paige’s shirt.
Paige softly traced the parts in Azzi’s hair with her finger. “I’m just curious, babe.”
Azzi yawned, sleepiness taking over her. “I can tell you later. If you want. Maybe.”
“Oh, we are so talking about this later,” Paige said under her breath. But for now, she continued playing with Azzi’s hair as Cinderella played in the background, lulling the girl to sleep.
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strawbeerossi · 2 years ago
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Take It
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unsub!Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer has plans of keeping your night going. Now it’s your turn to make it up to him.
Content/Warnings: Gagging, hair pulling, oral (m rec), face fucking
Word Count: 1.1K
Kinktober Day Twenty Two: Face Fucking
Part two to Day Twenty
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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“Why don’t we keep this going, hmm?”
You were unsure of what to say as you let your mouth fall open at the mere idea. Were you really about to go on with his sick delusions and games? It was difficult to say no, your pussy aching for more after the starter course that Spencer had given to you.
You didn’t get to answer as he helped lift you, only offering a grin as he was nudging you to get on your knees for him. “There we go. See, you’re such a good girl when you follow directions. I bet you’re dying to see my cock, aren’t you?” You didn’t want to say that you were but your head was nodding anyway, going against your wishes.
“I knew you’d be a whore.” He smirked, hand now gripping tightly to your chin as he was making you look him in the eye. The normal pretty honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, every friendly aspect behind those eyes long gone. This was how he wanted you, exposed and on your knees. He’d deal with your shirt later but right now, he was happy to see you on your knees, pussy juices surely running down your thighs from your climax earlier as well as the slick from arousal your body was supplying you with. As his hands were working to get his pants pulled down, Spencer had them down to his ankles as he was working on his boxers as well. Your eyes were widening the minute your eyes caught sight of his cock as it smacked against his stomach. You could feel drool running from your mouth, causing the male above you to chuckle. “Come on, feel free to touch. Good girls deserve it.” He winked, watching as your hand was hesitantly gripping the hardened shaft, hand slowly dragging along with it as your eyes were focused on him.
He was beautiful, hooded over eyes fixated on you as he let one hand move to grip your hair. “Come on. Don’t leave me waiting. I didn’t do that to you, did I?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. No, he didn’t. So you were diving in, tongue swiping over the thick tip of his cock while collecting a few beads of precum that were slipping from his slit. “Fuck. That’s it.” He urged her to continue, prompting her to let her lips wrap around the tip of his cock now. You took her time as you massaged the skin with your tongue, cheeks hollowing as you were suckling and just trying to enjoy your time while savoring the cock in you mouth.
Spencer wasn’t having that though.
Without warning, your head was pushing shoved down onto his cock, your hands quickly gripping his thighs for support as you gagged around the shaft in your mouth, not even fully taking him and already you were choking. He didn’t show you much courtesy, pulling you off briefly to let you breathe, watching the spit from his cock connect with your mouth from a long line of saliva. “Picture perfect. Fuck.” He growled, which wasn’t something you’d expected.
However, you weren’t given much time to say anything before you were shoved down on his cock again. This time though, he wasn’t as kind as he kept your head in place. “Come on. You can take it. I know you can. Breathe out of your nose.” He murmured, which you’d complied with that much, using your nose to breathe and try to relax your throat as his hand was using your hair to guide your movements.
As your head bobbed along his cock, your eyes were closing as your tongue was flat on the underside, tracing a vein stretching the throbbing shaft as he was using you as if you were a human fleshlight. His foot had moved between your thighs, chuckling. “Rub that needy cunt on my shoe, I can tell your clenching your thighs together.” He chuckled, lifting his foot up to bump against your clit as the electricity shot through your body.
While his cock was making a brutal assault on your throat, you were reduced to gags and whimpers as your hips rocked against the boots he had on. You were soaked and desperate for anything. However you knew that you had to play his game now. That’s the only way to get what you want in the end. “Fuck. How does it feel to be used? I bet you love it, don’t you? Choking on my cock gets that pretty pussy soaked, didn’t take you for a girl who likes to be roughed up but I’ll take what I can get for sure.” He chuckled darkly, watching as his cock disappeared down your throat as he was shoving your head down more.
At this point, your nose was brushing against his pubic bone as you were tearing up from having to swallow his full shaft, something you didn’t think was possible. It was pitiful how much you enjoyed this, how much you relished in the attention of a man who made it known he’d been stalking you. You should’ve called the police but instead you were sucking his cock while he was roughly thrusting into your mouth, surely bruising your throat in the process. There were no hopes of you being able to talk in a clear voice after this.
“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer’s breathing was shaky, his thrusts in your mouth growing sloppy as he was roughly tugging on your hair to elicit a moan to fall from your lips as your were digging into his shoe even more now, letting the laces of the boot rub against your desperate clit as your slick was coating the shoe. You were meeting his thrusts the best you could as you were bobbing your head, your goal to bring him to climax.
It wasn’t long until you were nearly choking as he was shooting his cum down your throat without warning, his hand shoving your head down more as he was emptying his heavy balls into your mouth and making you swallow everything. The warm cum had your body shivering, his foot eventually moving from between your legs and leaving you desperate as he pulled his cock out of your mouth.
“I can see why your ex came around a lot. Best throat and pussy I’ve ever came across. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He sighed in content while resting his hand against your cheek. “Get up off the floor sweetness.” He instructed, making you quickly follow his orders. However, your heart shattered when he kissed your forehead. “I have to get going for the rest of the night. Heard my phone going off like crazy earlier, which means there’s a case.”
“You better be ready for me when I get back though. Cause I promise that pussy is mine and I intend on making it well known.”
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neetily · 6 months ago
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Kinktober 2024 — Imaginary Best Friend Robin
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— ✧ pairing: M!Robin / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 7,102 — ✧ warnings: dubcon, imaginary friend, manipulation, breakup, ex boyfriend (role-play), shapeshifting, creampie — ✧ synopsis: hey, i know that it's been a while since we hung out, but i miss you. and you've really left me no other choice at this point...
— ✧ A/N: ONCE AGAIN I APOLOGISE FOR BEING LATE. and i thank you all for your patience, again. the winter blues killed me, but i finally got through this and hope you all enjoy... even the robin haters that follow me x finally. kinktober has ended <3...
— ✧ kinktober masterlist
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Existence comes to him suddenly and all at once, like an abrupt eruption spilling out from the recesses of your weary mind— and it’s immediately disorienting. The once dormant volcano of his life pulled into awakened with a promise, shifting under the oppressive weight and pressure that real life provides. It’s a bit jarring at first, as if being reborn into something new, someone new, prompting him into blinking a few times to rid the obscuring bright lights that intrude upon his fresh new mind for a moments breather. And it aches too, just a little, to greet the immediate upset that life has thrown at you; and by extension, himself. Seeping into his own body like it’s supposed to, because at the end of the day, he is you, isn’t he?
But as always, you remain blinding to him regardless. A stark contrast to his usual life in the dark, he cant help but to want to be more like you. Or, is it that he wants more of you? He never did answer that question in his loneliness.
A light in the pitch black, gentle hope where none is to ordinarily be found. It’s frustrating just how much he has to rely on you simply to exist, tugging on the edges of your mind every now and then to remind you of his simple validity, of his sole reason for living. But alas. It’s difficult not to dislike you, despite your abandonment… As if he was borne out of the self criticism you’ve given yourself over the years. A deeply burrowed yearning for something more, to become bigger and better than you’ve thus allowed him to be.
And he’s been waiting for an opportunity like this for years. Seething to himself in silence when you’d all but forgotten about him. And now that you need some help, you come seeking him? Out of everybody you could have reached out to, no one does it better than him, right?
Well, he’s not about to let you squander this prime opportunity by pushing back against him again. Not this time, not ever again.
Silence fills the empty space left between himself and you, or you and himself— it’s hard to discern where he begins and you end when you’re one in the same and he hasn’t been allowed to stretch his limbs for himself in what feels like an eternity. He knows that he needn’t use verbal speech to communicate with you, what with the fact that he usually resides within your mind space anyway and can talk just fine through thoughts alone. But tonight feels like a special occasion, doesn’t it? A shared understand of something brewing deep beneath the surface, a sharp edge to what once was soft eyes and childish giggles.
He’s grow up right alongside you too, y’know.
“Hi.” He eventually smiles, deceptively warm in his wanting to appear still yet friendly, even after your adulthood abandonment. Couldn’t stay away from him for too long, could you? Not when life has got you down, and nobody else is willing to stand up for you except your long time best friend Robin. As it always has been, and should be, as far as he’s concerned. “Long time no see.”
Silence once again occupies the room, and he takes the brief moment to focus in on all of the changes you’ve made since he was last perched upon your bed like this, since it’s been so long. All the new decorations, posters, trinkets, everything new that you’ve accumulated during his forceful absence… And, the new sheets that you’re currently balled up into are pretty too, like they’d protect you from all the bad in the world.
Silly, that’s what he’s for, right?
But when you fail to come out from hiding, no doubt afraid of the sudden deeper voice booming in your small private space, he lets out a friendly enough chuckle as a means to disarm you. Something endearing, something that’ll clue you in to exactly who he is so as to not scare you any further. Because he’d never truly wish to terrify you, even if he thinks you’re just so cute when asking him for help.
“You’ve changed a lot…” he trails off in genuine thought, humming to himself at the sight of all the new colours and textures and smells that surround him. “F-for the better, I mean!” he’s quick to reassure you, stuttering over his own words through how little his voice has been in use as of late, coughing to clear his nervousness when he feels your weight shift from under those safety blankets. Just a small shuffle, uncertainty present in the way you still yet remain hidden from his eager eyes.
C’mon, it’s been so long… Lemme see yo. Didn’t you wanna see me? Isn’t that the sole reason I’m here? C’mon, just a little more, promise to play nice…
Unsure of how long he’s got in your presence before you decide to shut him out for good again, or until you decide you need a well rested break with your good pal Robin, he decides to continue the conversation with or without you. Sighing briefly to himself to relieve some built up tension before tugging on your sheets absentmindedly. He can feel how nervous you are to meet him again— perhaps a little guilty too, right?
“Don’t you recognise me?”
There’s a twinge of pain to his words, hidden amongst the giddy excitement that’s difficult to quell upon seeing his bestie after such a long and lonely break. You did miss him, right? Though surely not as much as he missed you, evident from the way he practically shakes before you, unable to fully hide his true intentions despite the playful sadness that taints his voice. Its just that it’s been so long since he last saw you, and at the end of the day, he can do naught else but be thankful for the sole reason behind his existence.
It’s so good to see you again, even if you’re acting rather shy. He’s always been the best at entertaining you, especially throughout childhood when you had no one else to call friend.
And he deserves a little more respect for spending all that time in isolation, don’t you think?
“It’s me,” he tries again, smiling kindly through his words though you may not see it— it just comes so naturally to him regarding you. The niceties and hesitation. “We used to play together all the time, remember?” Emphasis on the all, because God… not a day went by when you were younger that he wasn’t by your side, too. Experiencing life with you, helping you through rough and tough times, and celebrating its victories right alongside you. There’s simply no way you could have truly forgotten all about him… right?
Of course not. Because all it takes is a brief pause, a shared held breath of confusion and interest all in the same, for you to realise your mistake and greet your old friend in kind with a rather small sounding little “… Robin?”
It’s enough, he thinks to himself. Affection welling in his heart at the meek tone you adopt, the sound of his name falling from your pretty hidden lips prompting his grin to widen and hurt his cheeks. Your uncertain nature is familiar to him, a home comfort after so long apart. You always were a shy little thing, which is why you likely made him in the first place.
“Yeah, yeah! It’s me, don’t you wanna play again? That’s why I’m here, right?”
He can sense your apprehension, though he’s not sure if it’s borne mostly out of fear from having him manifest by your side like how he used to when you were a kid, or because you feel unable to let go of things now that you’re older. As if you shouldn’t be relying on him so much, when that’s quite literally all he was borne to do. And, quite frankly, it’s all he ever wants to do— maybe even a little more, now that he’s as old as you are now. He can do so much more for you, if only you’d reach out for him more often.
He wonders if you think he’s grown up well too. Take a peek.
He doesn’t want to scare you off too much though, not yet… you’re still a little vulnerable, he understands. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t have suddenly re-appeared in your life, right? He’s gotta take his time, treat you with patience and care; right before taking exactly what he wants, that is.
So, ever so softly, he tuts down at you with loving intent. A gentle sound meant to coax you out, as you have so tenderly done so with him. Even his voice, after he takes a moment to allow you space, is as soft as ever. A taunt, maybe.
“Dont’cha wanna come out of hiding?” he prompts you, poking the lump under your sheets as lightly as he can, but he can’t stifle the light giggle that escapes him when you stiffen up in response. “I only wanna help you, promise…”
That’s it, just a small amount of manipulation, enough to have you wiggling under the sheets some more only to poke your head out from under them. And oh, what a pretty sight that immediately greets him, his chest instantly tightening with the grip you have on him— you’ve grown up very well, he suddenly decides. His heart racing at the mere sneak peek you’ve allowed him thus far, like he was a little kid all over again. He knew that all this waiting around in the dark abyss of your mind would be worth something, and he’s happy to see that he was right upon viewing your pretty face again.
Perhaps too much so, given the way he has to move around to hide his ill-intentioned love. Tugging on his jumper idly to obfuscate between his legs from your view.
“I— I mean… It’s been so long…” you almost whimper, like you’re afraid to admit your neglect so openly and honestly. Though there’s really no need, he’s here now, and that’s what matters most, right?
“It has been a while, huh?” he smiles down at you, a genuine show of his joy from finally, after all those long years alone, getting to see you and hear you again. He’s fucking missed you, and it suddenly hits him all at once as a lump grows big in his throat. Of which he does his best to swallow, for there are far more important matters to attend to tonight that don’t include bawling his eyes out in sheer bliss from being by your side again. There’s gonna be time to sob and reminisce together soon enough— but he wants to have his fun tonight. “I think we both look a bit different since we last hung out…” he inspects himself with curiosity, “D’ya think you could come out a little more? Wanna greet my old friend right!”
There’s no guilt to be had in sweet talking you out like this, because you always were a shy one. You’d get nowhere in life if not for a little prodding! So you should be thankful that he’s back again, ready to give you the little shove you need to fall off the ledge and onto his lap.
Eventually.
He wants to ease you into him again, warm you up a little, as it were. Disallowing you the opportunity to respond to his teasing by talking before you get the chance to reply, distracting you with meaningless small talk as he grows closer to your huddled form one slow inch at a time.
“Oh! Do you still have that console we use to game on all the time? I don’t remember the last time I played with you…” he trails off in thought, doing his best to recollect exactly when the last time you called upon him for some late night gaming together, and yet all he turns up is empty.
And you seem to pick up on his frustrated state, letting the sheets fall from your pretty body with a pitying gasp. “Robin,” you regard him with utter sympathy, showing your soft underside to his wanting teeth. “I’m— God, I’m so sorry— Y’know, that I, uh… I mean, it’s good to see you again, and…”
Bingo. Got you right where he wants you, pliant and begging for his forgiveness. It’s when you’re most malleable— no one knows you better than yourself, or in this case, himself, and so it’s easy to play your own worst qualities against you when you’re such a soft little idiot. Because he has all those issues too; he’s just spent enough time in solitary confinement to learn how to quell the need to please most of all.
And yet still, he yearns to earn your affections. Tutting down at you softly, as if consoling a child. Dirty words clinging to the tip of his tongue that he sucks back against his teeth, unable to meet your gaze the whole way as his eyes flutter shut to the sight of your furrowed brows and clutching bed sheet fists. You’re cute. Too cute for your own good, really.
Maybe the time spent away from you was necessary after all, allowing him ample opportunity to grow strong against your charms in the meantime.
“Shh, shh,” he hushes you gently, cooing towards you as he shuffles closer still, until his face is right before your own and he can press his forehead against your own in a loving gesture of trust. A misplaced gesture, but an attempt nonetheless to save face before he follows through on his long time coming plans for you. He’s been patient thus far, so he sure he can hold off for a little longer— in spite of the way his pants grow tighter the longer you pout up at him so prettily, fuck. Like you’re doing it on purpose, right? “It’s okay, promise,” he lets his breath fan across your face, hot and heavy to serve as a reminder that he’s very much real and alive and right next to you right now, lest you forget the very real threat he currently presents. That, and it’s exciting, is it not? To finally meet again after all those long years… “I’m glad you were doing well enough to not need me, if anything!”
Because he only shows up when you truly need him, right? When you’re all alone, lost and confused in the big scary world known as reality. At least you know that he will always be right there and waiting patiently for you to rely on him again, your best friend since childhood, right?
Though, when he picks up on the fact that you’re not so convinced of his genuine feelings for you, and that he’d never want you to feel sorry for him under any circumstances, he takes the opportunity to butter you up some more. Just a little foreplay before the main event, nursing his growing erection by pulling your dropped bed sheets over his own lap so that he has selfish access to more of your grown up body. Pretty and grown— just like him, right? Maybe that little shy eyelash flutter you send his way is the sudden realisation that he’s not some young boy anymore either, no more a child than you are in this moment. And he’s awfully close to you just now, isn’t he? Flustering you up with his sweet words and kind gestures…
“Now c’mon, less of the pity party and more of the telling me what’s wrong. It’s why I’m here, right?” He offers you, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands so as to steal your undivided attention with a soft, albeit cheeky, smile. Because he knows exactly what he’s doing to you right now, and he needn’t notice the slight pink that now taints your cheeks to intrinsically understand that he’s getting under your skin. Almost as if… you can tell that he wants you, without him needing to explicitly state as much.
Which would make sense, given that he only exists as an extension of yourself. But this song and dance is fun in its own right too, a game of cat and mouse. Cops and robbers. He wonders who will break first.
And he prays that it’ll be you.
Just a little more prompting, and he’s sure your nervous shakes will stop. Removing his forehead from your own just to drink up the sight of the unsure expression your wear when regarding him, lips slightly apart as if you want to admit truth to him, but have yet to let your defences down enough to allow him entry. That’s okay, he’ll worm his way inside soon enough. And besides, you look real fucking pretty when staring back at him with such a dumb expression.
“Y’know,” he releases his hold of your cheeks too, instead allowing one hand to rest on your thigh and the other to travel feather light up and down your exposed arm. It’s the little things, at the end of the day, that’ll have your legs opening for him. And he’s nothing if not thorough in his understanding of your wants, wishes, and needs. And what you need right now is him, correct? “You can always open up to me whenever— no judgement! I’m your best friend after all.” He’s kind enough to remind you, smiling through the thinly veiled manipulation as his touch prompts you into shivering against his fingertips, something that he wholly welcomes with open arms, because he knows that his sweetening up of you is working. Soon, he’ll have you right where he wants you, and—
You interrupt his train of thought with a heavy sigh. Deep and slow, as if steadying yourself for something. And he briefly wonders if you’ve caught on to his true intentions, but the way you nervously look around the room before biting down on your bottom lip tells him otherwise.
You’re nervous. Not because of him, not with the way you melt into his warm touch, right? No, it’s because—
“We broke up.”
Riiiiiight, you were seeing someone new, weren’t you? He can’t quite recall just how long ago, or what he looked like, or what his name was. Something... blonde, right? More bite than bark, but definitely a lot of bark, too. He has vague memories of disliking him, pounding against the edges of your mind to be let free, to show you exactly how you deserve to be treated, and yet… well, he’s just glad that you’re all alone now. Caught under the covers with that pretty puppy look you wear oh so well, begging for him. Not your ex, or any other random man he’s sure you could pull from the streets— but him. His forgiveness and help, yeah? Oh, you poor thing… your ex must have really gotten under your skin to leave you resorting to him now, pawing eagerly at your old best friend for some well worn comfort in such trying times.
But Robin can hardly blame the guy for ruining you. He’d like to do the same, ultimately. And he’s about to, after a little more consoling. Gotta get you in the right mindset for it, warm you up to his needy touch and leering eyes before finally taking what he rightfully deserves. Keeping his touch as light as possible on your shivering skin, if only to allow you the space to continue opening up to him.
It’s for your own good, he muses to himself.
“It, uh… Yeah, it’s been weighing on me, I think…” you mutter, mumbling to yourself at the end as if you were ashamed of how much some idiot has you feeling down, but this is a reason to celebrate, no? Now you should have no qualms with his advances, a sly smile tugging on his lips at the sound of your misfortune.
“Ah,” he hums down at you in faux thought, taking a moment or two not because he has to be careful with his words, but instead to show you a false sense of care. An attempt to hide just how thankful he is to learn of your troubles, when he really can’t think of anything better right now. “I see… So, you need some cheering up?” He prompts you, dropping both his hands down to your thighs with a soft squeeze, and the way you jolt a little in response does nothing to dissuade him. If anything, it only strengthens his resolve to softly open you from the inside out. Leave his hands marked over every inch of you so that you can never forget about him ever again, letting his nails bite into you just a little, the smallest amount, as a silent threat. A dare, even. Dare you to try and leave me again.
“R-right…” you stutter, and he can hear the physical gulp you make when he meets your gaze with a smitten smile. That’s it, he thinks to himself. That’s all the consent he needs, really. Just a spark, because he knows you so well, doesn’t he? The best, even. A conjuration of your own imagination, only now in the flesh. Touching you, letting his hands roam up and down from your knee to almost your inner thigh— he hasn’t crossed the unspoken boundary yet, has he?
“Just, um… Robin—” you whisper his name, and he can’t wait to hear it falling from your lips later tonight. Hopefully louder, and more fraught with need, as opposed to with confusion and worry.
“Yes?” He replies simply, far more focused on how soft and squishy your thighs feel under his lecherous touch, biting down on his tongue to withhold the sinful compliments he wants to spill, because he doesn’t want to scare you off when he’s already came this far.
“Could— can you maybe wait a bit?”
“For what?”
“Um…” he knows exactly what you want to ask for, but he’s not gonna feed you the answers on a silver platter. Cocking an eyebrow up at you when you struggle to get your words out, making it ever difficult for you as his hands finally settle on your inner thighs and you’re forced into squeaking in response. “T—This,” you motion to your thighs, tenderly covering his hands with your own in such an affectionate manner that he can’t help but to gasp in response, you fucking tease. “Can we, uh…”
“Look,” he steals the moment away from you, pouncing on your inability to stand up for yourself—just look at your ex boyfriend, God—taking the opportunity to force himself further against you. Enough to have your body leaning back against the bed headboard with his hands nestled neatly at either side of your lap. He has to stretch some to properly hover over you, but it’s so worth it given the way you stare back at him all dewy and doe eyed. His tone is low and rough when he speaks, “I just wanna make you feel better. Look after an old friend, right?” He nods down at you, insinuating something he’s sure is clear on your mind when your lip wobbles in response, and yet still, you hesitate. And for as frustrating as it is to see you so unsure of yourself, of him, he can’t deny that it’s exciting to chase after you like this. Mimicking your pretty pout when you mull over his words silently, huffing and puffing to yourself as if it were even a question.
It wasn’t, by the way. You don’t have a choice in this matter, silly little lamb. It was your mistake to seek his help again. Your mistake to leave him unattended for so long.
It’s not up to you to decide how he helps you now.
“That’s all, promise.” He does his best to reassure you, but the twitch in his pants at the mere position he’s in betrays him. If you can even see it, that is. Cock angled down towards your cunt as your gaze struggles to remain on his own, wandering around your room as if doing so would somehow help you escape, or make him disappear.
But he’d never leave a poor friend in need! No, you taught him so much better than that! Squeezing at your thigh a few more times before lowering his head to rest in the crook of your neck for a deep, selfish inhale of your scent. Something he’d innocently wanted to do just to sniff how much you’ve grown, but it only serves to have him gasping for air and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull once your smell engulfs him whole and he realises just how close he is to obtaining everything he’s ever wanted.
“Thanks.” He whispers genuinely against the shell of your ear, making sure his hot breath makes you all hot and bothered with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
And he means it, even as you further freeze when he pulls back only to  ‘accidentally’ reveal his erection— it’s getting there, he has the urge to promise you. But nonetheless allows you to sit in stunned silence to gawk at the childhood friend he’s now become. All grown up, resembling more of a man than you’re used to, right?
He’s mid way through taking his shirt off for your viewing pleasure before you find the strength to speak up, and he smiles to himself at the worried tone you carry with your words. Too cute for your own good.
“Is… Do you really think this is a good idea, Robin?”
Oh, you sweet little thing… In some respects, he can understand your ex for toying with you. Playing with such naivety sure is a lot of fun. And the sheer innocence of it all, of the way you’re acting in particular, like you’d expected him to remain the same way he always was when you left him, has him gagging for it. A tight ball curled up in his tummy, a closed throat begging to relay filth. He wants for nothing more than to steal your innocence away, keep it all for himself forever and ever.
Which is why he simply nods down at you, slow and assured, letting out a quiet little mhm before throwing his shirt to the side to hook his thumb under his bottoms idly.
“Can think of nothing better, really,” he answers honestly, through all of the lies and manipulation it’s taken to get here, he’s not about to just leave himself all high and dry simply because you’re feeling unsure. After all, he’s just as much you and you are yourself, and he figures that’s gotta count for at least something. He knows what you like, what you really want, deep down in the pit of your stomach— the things you’re afraid to admit in the mirror. “C’mon, you too.” He prompts urgently, doing his best not to rush you per se, but the thick throb of his cock urges him to continue. Push past your insecurities for the greater good.
He only wants to selfishly make you feel all better again…
When you make no attempt to move and do as he says, he carefully hooks his hands under your shirt to tug it upwards, selectively ignoring your sputters and mumbles because you practically allow him to undress you without much complaint anyway. You always were a meek little pushover, and he’s all too happy to exploit it for his own benefits.
That being the sight of your tits—though still hidden behind your bra—they’re so pretty. Nice and full; he can’t stop himself from tenderly reaching out to give em a quick squeeze to test their softness. And the resulting huff of air you let out has his head spinning, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in horny frustration for how cute you are. Well worth the wait, he instantly decides. Letting his thumb dig under your bra strap enough for it to fall to your side, tickling his way to around your back to one hand unhook the garment with a loving sigh.
He doesn’t mean to move so fast, but the flood is coming, and he’s incapable of stopping it all by himself.
His voice comes out a little raspy when he compliments you, a hushed “Gorgeous…” escaping him at the mere sight of your tits, exhaling heavily when he rolls a nipple between his thumb and finger, and you instinctively arch into his perverted touch. Like your body knows that you want him too, right? Deep down, you yearn just as much as he does.
Evident from the fact that he’s currently undressing completely before you because he doesn’t know how to hold back or wait, stepped off the bed for just a moment to expose himself, cocky confidence present in the way he easily slips back between your legs once naked to toy with the edge of your bottoms absently.
“Robin, I—” your stutters interrupt his self indulgence, but he gives you his full attention anyway. Because he truly does love you, yknow. Would give you the world if he could— hell, he might as well craft you one right here, right? “I’m not so sure if— if this is a good, um… good idea, yknow?”
“Baby…” he coos, rubbing soothing circles against your hips before slowly dragging your bottoms off anyway, keeping them in the same pile of all the other discarded clothing items. “Is it because you’d rather it was someone else?” head tilted to the side with his question, he figured you might need something like this to feel a little more comfortable the first few times he fucks you, so he doesn’t mind accommodating you in the meantime.
You will wish it to be him eventually though, he’s sure of it.
The benefits of being your imaginary friend, located deep in your mind space, is that he can mold this world to his liking— and that includes himself. Waiting for you to blink before switching to the spitting image of your ex boyfriend, cock and all. Reaching down to wag it against your front, a quick few taps against your exposed slit with a sharp intake of air. Though it’s his first time feeling your wet little cunt riding against the tip of his cock, maybe you’ll get on better with the thought of your ex coming back to reconcile with you, yeah?
“Look,” he begs of you, voice a tinge deeper, darker, maybe. One that commands your attention with a low tut— he’ll have you reacting that way to his own voice soon enough, he promises you. “I can be anyone you want me to be,” he sighs softly, forcefully dragging his cock down and pushing it back up with his hand wrapped tight around the base of it, his head hanging low at just how good you feel already for him, slicking him up so well now that he’s pretending to be your ex lover— you fucking loser. “All you gotta do is ask, I can do anything for you in here, just—”
He’s not sure what he wants to say next, stunned into silence given the look of absolute worry you wear when he takes a glance at your pretty face. It has him promptly catching his tip onto your entrance on instinct alone, letting out the softest little moan at the way you instantly twitch for more around him— so you do want him. Or is it because you wanna fuck through the left over feelings from your ex?
Either way, he’s not complaining. He could never, especially not given the way you automatically cling to him, shivering like you were cold despite the warm heat that not only engulfs him, but also from how hot and heavy his cock feels as he pushes inside. No time to wait, God, hasn’t he waited long enough? Holding on to a shared breath for just a moment or two, fucking little humps in and out of you to wet his whole cock sticky until he’s able to rest balls deep in your tight little hole and he can finally exhale.
He just— he doesn’t— God, he’s been waiting so fucking long to feel this exact wetness. Dripping all over him, tightening and constricting his movement to small ins and outs; he doesn’t ever wanna fully leave your hole ever again. Just wants to make you feel good, yeah? Be whoever you need or want him to be. Have you solely rely on him for eternity.
That’s what best friends are for.
For pinning you down by your hips so that he has enough leverage to draw his hips back just enough to leave his tip inside, the resulting tight suck of your cunt just begging to keep your ex’s cock throbbing against your walls is almost too much to bear, his heart stuttering through a few beats when you pout so prettily up at him as if he was being unfair.
When really, you’re the one treating him so unfairly, silly!
Squeezing his tip so well, leaving him struggling for air as he huffs out in an attempt to lift that fuckers blonde bangs out of the way— solely so that he may appreciate how cute you look when he steals you from the inside out. Literally and figuratively, holding you hostage within your own mind so as to have his way with you, and some fun too while he’s at it. He’s got no choice but to slowly roll his hips back into you, a slow in and out for you to once again grow accustomed to the cock that’s been fucking you for a while now—he’s sure not to go too fast, not until he’s able to fuck his own cock inside of you, his own shape—with gentle moans slipping past his tongue in sheer awe of how perfect you feel. Like he always knew you would feel, honestly.
Growing up with you, he’s been privy to details others might not have been. Like the best ways to touch yourself, or what sort of kinks you’ve got, and how much you want. Always wanting, aren’t you? And he’s so willing to give it all to you and more, fuck, you can’t even begin to understand just how badly he wants nothing more than you. You, you, you, babbling something on the end of his cock as he riles himself up into picking up speed, just a little bit— enough to have you once again arching up into him, or into your ex? Fuck, he doesn’t care anymore. Can’t, really, when you sound so fucking sweet under him like that, choking on your words in a mix of pleasure and confusion. You’re so pretty when you’re being so malleable, lulling into his lap as he thrusts in and out exactly how you like.
You’re so easy to use. It’s no wonder you were so easy to abuse, too.
All of his praise gets all choked up when he hears the bed squeak from under him, shaking under the heavy weight of his deliberate thrusts. His convincing fucks, attempting to win you over in spite of his outward appearance— doesn’t he fuck better than him? Better than anyone ever will, hovering above you to make sure you can’t escape his grip, nor his leering gaze, and especially not his throbbing cock. All veiny and fat, pumping at such a rhythm to leave you in a silent plea for more, he assumes. And you’re just gushing around him too, clawing at his arms for any semblance of purchase— or are you trying to push him away? A sly smile appearing on his lips to contrast your open mouthed whines; try as you might, he’s not letting you go for a fucking second.
You just feel too good to stop, really. What was once a perverted dream has now became reality, and he’s physically forced into humping your shape into the sheets below with sheer need, like it’s intrinsic to him to be on top of you, balls slapping against your backside, inevitably fucking you up the bed a little from how eager his thrusts are. “Can’t stop—” he eventually apologises, though it’s not a real sorry from the get go. A platitude at most, because he’d never be sorry about making you sound so pretty, all high pitched and greedy, body begging him for more given the way your hole practically sucks him off with slick. How it drools out of you, his own precum spilling around his fat intrusion and down into a puddle to stain your sheets as a reminder of his affections.
Look, it begs, how well I fuck you.
“Feeling good?” he taunts you from above, in a voice not of his own, but the manner. The attitude of it, shared only amongst the bestest of friends. Communicating I told you so in one raise of his brow, though short lived as it may be due to how much he struggles to keep up with himself. Fucking himself stupid, because he can’t control his actions, because he’s finally gotten everything he’s ever wanted, and he wants more.
So he paws at your tits too, rough and unruly with his tough. Perhaps a little influence from his shapeshifting into your ex? Oh how he used to hurt you, right? And Robin wouldn’t want to do that to you, not on purpose anyway. And yet still, he pinches at your nipples unfairly so, just to hear you make those squeaky cries for a break again and again, the feeling of your nails digging into his tensed up arms is so nice too, especially when paired with the way your lashes flutter shut in pure bliss. God, he knows he must be right. Can feel the way your legs obviously shake behind him, and the way your cunt quivers around his cock, and how you can’t get a single straight forward sentence out, and—
“Wait!” you yelp, both pained and unwilling, an impulsive thought turned verbal. C’mon, you don’t really want him to stop, do you? You’re so close! His free hand snaking between where his cock pumps you full to rub generous circles around your clit for a little more convincing, promising to help you feel better than you’ve felt in weeks since the breakup, if only you’d give in just a little more—
“Wanna feel it,” he selfishly admits, drooling over the way you writhe and tremble under him; you’re so hot when you’re trying to hold back, y’know that? That cute little scrunched up face you wear has his cock twitching some more, balls taut at the sight of your tightly closed fists barely knocking against his chest. You’re real cute for thinking you’ve got a chance. So cute, fuck, he loves you so much that he can barely stand to make you wait any longer, pressing tighter circles against your sensitive clit, a little sloppy and a little messy because he knows you like it that way, and you can’t fucking escape his seedy touch, fucking into you more fervently now the closer you get, and he grabs and tugs at your tits more as a means to stay grounded, but it helps that the action has you moaning even louder than before, and “Give it t’me, please—” he ends up begging, whining himself from how absurdly good your fighting back has him feeling.
And he wanted to last longer, in truth. But he’s happy to have at least lasted long enough to feel you cream his cock as he shoots the fattest load of his life deep into your pretty cunt. All puffy and red, he pulls your lips aside to get a better look at how well you take his cum, how it oozes out of you from the copious amounts of it, and how fucking pretty the sight is to behold. Humping into you just a little more to fuck you through your orgasm, as thanks for how breathless he is during his own, before falling over you to encase you in his own heat as the lack of concentration causes him to return to his normal self. Plain old Robin, heaving against your equally panting chest as a stark reminder of exactly who just made you feel so good, who still has you yet trembling and whining idly as he allows you space to come down from your high.
It’s hard to deny you feel better, he bets.
And it’s not long before he peppers your forehead in many little kisses as you lay dazed with this stupid look on your face that he just adores so much. Can’t contain himself, affection dripping from every quick lipped kiss pressed against every inch of your face that he can reach and then some, finally settling on your lips to which he’s unbothered about the fact that you don’t reciprocate in kind— you’ve just came. He understands the need to go slow, and he’s got all the time in the world to give you as much as you need.
Because this is it, he muses to himself. Here, with you under him and in his arms, dizzy and exhausted from getting fucked as good as he can give, this is it. Light laughter crawling up his throat for him to cough away— “You’re amazing,” he praises you honestly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before exhaling contentedly, repositioning your relaxed body so that you’re facing him on your side, and he can cuddle you all night long if he so wishes. “I mean really, fuck—” barked laughter escapes him in utter disbelief, “Dunno what your ex was thinking, but God— ‘M never letting you go.”
And unfortunately, he truly means it. In every sense of the word, pulling you closer to his chest so that you can hear just how hard his heart thumps for you, even now as he comes down from his high. Keeping you close like glue, where no one can ever hurt you again, all safe and sound in your own mind with the best company to date!
And when they find you, they’ll find no other explanation other than: a coma. Poor thing… he’ll stay with you throughout it all— you won’t have to suffer all alone ever again.
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youaintnothinbuta · 1 year ago
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Hello!!! I saw you wanted some sort of army Elvis prompt so I thought I'd send one through!!! Love your stuff by the way. Daddy!Elvis 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he's so cute!!
Ok...how about...Elvis is doing like a party (can be army Elvis or Vegas Elvis or anyone of his phases up to you!) and he and the reader have been together a while, but while they're catering...this one guy and old friend of Elvis's gets a bit TOO touchy feely with her, and takes advantage of her going around catering to people by asking for continuous drinks and stuff until he's drunk. When she tells Elvis he laughs it off the first time. But then when the drunk man gets angry with the reader for refusing to serve him any more drinks he gets a little 'too' angry for Daisy and does something (you can make up what) and then she tells Elvis when she pulls him aside in tears. And then he becomes super 'protective' Elvis....please? 🥺🥺
Hope this is ok!
❤️
“She’s being a real brat.” — Elvis Presley x reader
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Omg thank you for replying n for the inspo ily!!! I hope this is okay 💗 I purposely didn’t mention a time so read it as any Elvis era you like
Summary: see request^^^
Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x reader
Word count: 970
Warnings: fluff!! There is some unwelcome attention and arguing but Elvis looks after you <3
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“Don’t forget, baby, we gotta bring all those chairs outside for everyone before people start arriving,” you reminded Elvis, as the two of you prepared for the party he was hosting.
“Oh, right, thank you honey.” He kissed the side of your head, heading outside to deal with that, while you unpacked the crackers and cheeses and alcohol, his chef preparing the actual food, of course.
That evening, once everyone started arriving, you and your husband made yourselves busy, making sure to greet everyone. As the evening wore on, you found yourself bustling around, making sure everyone’s drinks were topped up and their plates were full. Amidst the lively chatter and music, you were approached by an old friend of Elvis’, a guy you vaguely remembered from previous gatherings.
“There she is! What a stunner Elvis has got himself,” he complimented you as he took another full glass of champagne from your hand, though it didn’t really feel like a compliment.
With a polite smile, you acknowledged him. “Thank you. Yes, it has been a while.”
Initially, his conversation remained innocuous, but as the night progressed, his demeanor shifted. His touches lingered longer than was appropriate, his compliments veering into the realm of discomfort. You thought it was quite interesting too how he only became this way the moment your husband was out of sight.
“Why’s your mister letting you walk around like this? I can’t take my eyes off you,” he remarked, his gaze lingering a little too intently as he brushed his hand over your lower back.
“Thank you,” you replied, a nervous edge creeping into your voice. “I should attend to the drinks.”
Stepping away, you discreetly sought out Elvis, who was engaged in conversation with other guests.
“Elvis, could I speak with you for a moment?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to you, concern furrowing his brow. “Of course, what’s the matter?”
Hesitantly, you confided in him about the man’s unwelcome advances, hoping for some form of intervention.
“That guy, he’s been getting too familiar with me. I can’t even place a name to his face, I don’t even know him.” you pleaded quietly.
“Don’t stress, honey. He’s just being friendly,” he reassured, though his words did little to assuage your discomfort.
As the evening wore on, you went from feeling uneasy to borderline violated. The man, now visibly intoxicated, began demanding more drinks, despite his already inebriated state.
“Hey, sweetheart, another round over here!” he slurred, his voice growing increasingly belligerent.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve had enough,” you replied, trying to maintain composure despite the rising tension.
“Pardon?” He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
You knew he was trying to give you an opportunity to change your words, but you didn’t, repeating yourself. “You’ve had enough to drink.”
“Listen, little girl,” he plunked his empty glass down on a table, his words slurring.
He gave you a gross smile, curled his finger towards you in a come hither motion. As not to cause a scene in front of other guests, you listened to him, even if it was against your better judgment, and leaned in to him.
He positioned his face far too close to yours, startling you with a yell, “you don’t tell me when I’ve had enough. I’ll have as much as I damn well please!”
Your heart raced, and a sense of dread crept over you as his demeanor grew increasingly aggressive. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to find safety in the presence of Elvis. How dare someone speak to you like that? Especially in your own home. You feel uncomfortable and unsafe, and you most certainly didn’t want him in your home anymore.
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You were able to pretty quickly and easily pick Elvis out from the large amounts of people, tugging on his shirt to pull him aside.
“Baby, what happened?” Elvis asked, immediately clocking your glossy eyes. You began to recount what he had said to you.
“Elvis, he won’t leave me alone. He’s getting aggressive,” you implored, desperation colouring your words. Elvis’ expression hardened as he listened, his concern giving way to resolve.
Elvis approached the guy, who smile at him.
“Just the man I was looking for! Will you tell your girl to get me a drink, she’s being a real brat.”
“Listen to me, ain’t no one gonna talk to me like that, especially not about my wife,” Elvis asserted, his voice cutting through the noise of the party, “you need to leave.”
The man’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of defiance as he squared his shoulders, clearly intent on challenging Elvis’s authority. “Come on, buddy, don’t be like that,” he slurred, his words punctuated by the stench of alcohol on his breath.
Elvis’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he glared at the man. “I said leave,” he growled, his tone brooking no argument.
For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, tension high, then, with a defiant snort, the man turned on his heel, stumbling towards the door with unsteady steps. As soon as he was out of sight, Elvis turned back to you, his eyes softening with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to cup your cheek.
“I am now.” You nodded.
“I’m sorry, I should have listened to you. Why don’t you hang around me for a while.”
“It’s okay,” you placed your hand over his that was on your cheek. He placed a kiss on your lips, before pulling you into him, dancing with you. You laughed at his spontaneity, as he spun you around, mouthing the words I love you. You replied the same way, as others around you cheered and danced, the party quickly picking back up.
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nentenkoneko · 30 days ago
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I am of the belief that Tiger likes to feed stray cats, so he accidentally ends up a stray cat army that will protect him from a mugger who tries to steal from him. This can also be the writing prompt, hehe
Such a cute idea! I had a lot of fun trying to mold it into something that kinda resembles a story, even if it turned into more of a group of small slice-of-life moments rather than focusing entirely on just the prompt itself (curse me and my love for banter between characters). Thanks for the suggestion :)
And you’re totally right, by the way. Tiger would 10000% casually have a mini army of cats.
Word count: ~5000 Main 'tags' I'd use to describe this: Fluff, slice-of-life, humour, and cats. Lots of cats. Other characters come and go but the cats are forever. Cats for life.
“-and this lil guy is Tachio.” He scooped up the large, mottled brown cat into his arms. Tachio settled with little fuss, as he always did, his big furry head coming to rest against the fabric of Tiger’s hoodie, eyes already beginning to close sleepily. “I called him that ‘cause I was eating pistachios when I first met him.”
“Wow.” Joe snickered. Not mean, or biting. A teasing, friendly tone. “Great naming skills you have there, Ti.”
“Better than some other cat names I’ve heard.” He scoffed, “I mean, what was it you called your childhood cat again? Mittens?”
Joe mock-gasped. “You leave Mittens out of this you heathen.”
“Mittens has to be one of– no, the most overused name for cats.” He continued, settling himself down onto the floor, Tachio still in his arms, dead asleep. The concrete was cold beneath him, but not uncomfortably so. He grinned up at Joe, “It’s kinda like how everyone calls their dog ‘Buddy’, or ‘Max’. It’s so boring.”
“Hey now, cut me some slack–” Joe whined, even as his face cracked into a smile. He followed suit, lowering himself down to sit beside Tiger, narrowly missing sitting atop Dalgona, an old, cream-coloured tabby. She darted away with a grumpy huff, disappearing behind one of the nearby dumpsters. “I was like, five,” He added with a roll of his eyes, “it was the best I could come up with.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
A loud, obtrusive “mreow” had Tiger glancing upwards. Bright, sharp, golden-yellow eyes blinked back at him. He chuckled, “See? Rye agrees with me.”
“Rye.” Joe echoed, “Like… Like rye bread?”
“I like to name a lot of them after different foods I like.” He pointed up to a balcony high above them, where a lone cat lay, sprawled out on her side. She was basking in a small, rare patch of sunlight that had crept past the high walls of the surrounding buildings. Her fur, usually a dull, muddy-brown, was shimmering under its rays. “That’s her up there.”
“Very cute and all, but we need to go back to the name, brother-” Joe made a weird, scrunched-up face, “-Rye? Is rye bread seriously your favourite kind of bread? Really? Not, like, brioche or literally anything else?”
Now it was his turn to make a face, “I thought brioche was a pastry.”
“No, it’s…” Joe paused, then frowned the more he thought about it, “Maybe…? Ugh.” He waved a hand, “Besides the point, okay? Rye is disgusting.”
“Meow.”
He couldn’t help but snort. “I think she took that personally.”
“I could tell.” He shook his head with a mock-sigh, “Getting back on track– are we feeding them or not? That’s what we came to do, right? Feed your little mini army?”
A mini army? As if. “I was waiting for you to finish bashing my naming choices first.”
“Still gonna continue bashing them, ‘cause that shit’s nasty.”
“Whatever you say, man.” Carefully, Tiger slid Tachio out from his arms, letting the cat lazily flop down across his lap, his furred chin resting against one of his thighs. He napped on, oblivious.
Now, with his hands free, he could reach for the bag he’d brought along with him. The sharp sound of the zipper immediately caught the attention of the cats lurking in the shadows around them. Bright, eager eyes popped out from the darkness. He grinned. 
“They’re like little ninjas.” Joe muttered quietly, his own eyes wide, “I didn’t realise there were that many. I counted like, seven, not seventeen.”
“There’s usually more, honestly. Quiet night.” He busied himself with rummaging through the bag, pulling out two plastic containers, filled to the brim with chunks of fresh chicken and fish. “Here–” He tossed one towards Joe, who fumbled to catch it. “If you wanna make any friends, you’re gonna need that.” 
“I thought they were friendly…” He glanced between the container and the manifested crowd of hungry cats, “You said they were friendly.”
“Friendly with me, yeah.” He laughed, “They don’t know you, you gotta earn their trust.”
“I’m gonna get bit.”
“We’ll start you off easy.” He promised, already scanning the crowd of cats, gaze landing on a familiar speckled figure.  “Tutorial round, yeah? I think I can see Pepper– on your left. He’s probably the friendliest here.”
Joe squinted. “Pepper..?”
“Yeah. Black fur, little white specks. Kind of like ground pepper?” He shrugged, “He’s a big baby. A little shy, but he’s not mean.”
Joe shook his head with a quiet laugh, “You’re seriously running a whole grocery store out here.”
"Hey now, I branch out." He giggled, “There’s maybe like, three of ‘em who aren’t named after food. I let Miko name those ones.”
"You dragged Miko into this?”
“Only sometimes, when I’m bored.” He hummed, cracking open his container of food. The quiet crowd became loud with excited, hungry meows, the cats gaining more confidence now that they could outright smell the food. “I like annoying him. Like I like annoying you.”
“As much as it pains me to say this, you don’t annoy me at all.” Joe chuckled, opening his own container in tow. Pepper poked his head out further than the other cats, beginning to slink over, towards Joe, just as he’d hoped. “You just make me question my sanity sometimes. Like why I agreed to come sit on the floor of some shady alleyway on a Thursday night to feed cats.”
“You enjoy it, deep down.” Tiger gestured to Pepper, still slowly padding closer, sniffing the air curiously. “He likes chicken more than fish. Hold some out for him and he should come right up to you.”
Joe scooped out some chicken from the mix, his nose wrinkling in mild disgust at the jelly-like texture. "If he claws my face off, you’re paying my hospital bill,"
"Deal.”
As expected, he didn’t get his face torn off. Instead, Pepper, after a few more cautious steps, simply bit the bullet, waltzing right up to Joe before snagging the piece of chicken from his outstretched hand, gulping it down in a flash. As soon as he’d swallowed it, he immediately began nudging at his now empty palm, meowing incessantly for more.
Joe looked up with a broad, almost childlike grin, "See?” He puffed out his chest, “Natural-born cat whisperer right here."
Tiger chuckled, throwing a piece of fish out from his own container. "Not bad for a guy who named his cat Mittens."
Joe mock-scowled, but he couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he fished out another piece, watching as Pepper took it eagerly, purring all the while.
“I need your help.”
“You know it’s, like, nine PM over here right now, right?” Miko yawned loudly on the other end of the screen. The angle of his camera was tilted slightly, his face half-buried underneath what looked like the many thick, cozy blankets he knew Miko kept on his bed at all times. “I’m about to go to sleep.”
He waved a hand dismissively, “You being an old man and going to bed early isn’t my problem.”
“Well then what is your problem, exactly?”
He darted out of frame, returning moments later with a little, squirming, white-furred kitten. Holding her out towards the camera, he waited for the lens to focus so Miko could get a better look before speaking, “–what should I name this one?”
Miko pulled a face almost instantly, “Seriously? I thought you only fed the strays, now you’re full-on adopting them?”
“I’m not– I don’t usually.” He huffed, “These guys are a litter from one of the cats I was feeding. She trusted me enough to show me her kittens.” Adjusting his grip as the kitten tried to claw her way up his arm, he added, “And I’m not keeping them, for the record, just housing them until they’re fully weaned, then they’ll be off to new homes. Their mom’s here too. I’m getting her spayed as soon as I can. She’s not happy being inside, though.” He chuckled, “So I doubt she’ll be heading off to a new home herself.” Detaching the tiny claws that had wormed their way through the fabric of his shirt, Tiger brought the kitten back out towards the camera, “But they deserve names in the meantime! C’mon, help me out here.”
“I should’ve never answered your call.” Miko muttered, staring at the kitten intently for a moment before sighing, “..how about Snowball?”
“I’ll take it.” He grinned, “Thanks for the contribution, Anija.”
Miko shook his head with a laugh, “I can’t believe I still put up with you. I’m not paid to like you anymore, you know.”
“You know you love me, pay or no pay.” Tiger couldn’t help but sing-song, gently putting Snowball down, watching as she waddled back towards her siblings. He reached down into the pile, plucking up another kitten. A lanky, bony little thing, which let out an undignified squawk, flailing around in his arms like a fish out of water, “What about this one–?”
Miko leaned in closer, squinting at the screen. “He looks like he’s got about three brain cells.”
He reached for a nearby tube of cat food. The kitten, upon spotting the treasured item, settled almost instantly, mouth snapping open, waiting. His bright little eyes stared in rapt attention all the while. He barked out a laugh, “He definitely does.”
“You like food names, right? What’s that American food called again?” Miko tapped his chin idly, brow furrowed in thought, “The one with the funny name?”
“There’s a lot of American food with funny names.” He snorted, wiping the kitten’s fur as he gulped down the food, flecks of chicken-paste going just about everywhere. “Like this thing Bo was telling me about the other day- a sloppy joe? It sounded disgusting.”
“I got it-” He clicked his fingers, “Spam. That’s that canned meat block thing, right? Spam?”
“Oh, yeah, spam.” He hummed, "Blok loves that stuff.”
“Yeah, well, that cat looks like that stuff.”
He chuckled. The kitten really didn’t, all things considered, being a greyish white like his sister, but the food-paste had dyed his whiskers a pinkish, flesh-like hue. “He does now he’s all covered in meat goo.”
“Spam. Take it or leave it.” Miko yawned, “‘Cause I’m too tired to come up with anything else.”
He kissed the kitten atop his furry little head, making sure to avoid the gross gooey spots. “Spam it is, then.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hello to you too.”
Tiger barely made it three steps into the alley before his oh-so-familiar welcoming party descended. 
Without Joe here, or any other person he might’ve forcibly dragged along, the cats were much more open. More willing to come out at just the scent of him alone. Just turning into the alleyway itself was enough to receive an audience of eyes on him. Cats appearing left and right from high ledges, or peering out from beneath dumpsters and wooden crates. 
There were his usual few who always came right up to greet him Rye, Saffron, Tachio– and Pepper too, of course, ever the gentle, welcoming sweetheart.
Unlike one of his other more regular cats. Sushi, a white-and-cream cat who had the patience of a toddler, had leaped out from one of the higher perches in the alleyway, latching onto his leg as he walked with an abrupt meow. Her claws dug deep into the fabric of his joggers, prickling at the skin underneath as she began to climb, meowing all the while.
“Alright, alright!” He couldn’t help but laugh, wiggling in a feeble attempt to get her off. She clung tight, though. He should’ve called her barnacle or something… Maybe parasite? That seemed more fitting. “Gimme a second, Sushi– geez,” 
Once he’d gotten a bit further into the alleyway (and Sushi had gotten further up his body, now clung to his hip) he put down his sports bag, his now free hands instantly moving to pluck the cat from his clothes. She purred, her rough tongue licking at his hands as he swiftly deposited her back onto the ground where she belonged, before moving back for his bag. He’d shoved some food in here somewhere…
A flurry of meows had him groan, even as he grinned. A hoard seemed to form around his bag, cats eagerly jostling against one another as they tried to practically merge with him as he unzipped the bag, pulling out the food (and quickly shooing away the more curious cats, who had instead focused on attempting to drag his sports gear out from the bag, rather than the food). He zipped the bag back up quickly– he’d be damned if he lost another shoe or sock to one of these furry thieves.
The food itself wasn’t anything amazing this time- usually he brought chicken, or fish. Something he knew the cats would appreciate over basic kibble, but he hadn’t had a chance to stock up on wet foods yet, as of this week, so kibble would have to do. Not that it seemed to bother the cats, who swarmed the floor as he spilt the kibble onto it, the sound of tiny teeth crunching and snapping quickly echoing around him.
Now that everyone seemed settled, he allowed himself to sit down fully onto the concrete floor, Rye quickly moving to secure his lap, stretching out along his legs with a scruffy purr. He rubbed at the back of her ears fondly.
Crap, his shirt was covered in fur. Caked in it, even; it was hard to tell what the beginning colours had even been at this rate. He hadn’t brought a damn lint roller this time either… 
Oh well. 
He breathed, exhaling tiredly. Pepper bumped his head against his leg, as if sympathetic. It only served to cover him in more fur. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, reaching out to pet the gentle tomcat. “Thank you, Pep.”
One of the cats Miko had named many months ago also bumped against him, reaching her body up to rest her paws against his shoulder, leaning forward to sniff his ear curiously. Her nose was cold and wet as it pressed close. He had to stop himself from outright flinching at the random protrusion. “And… Thank you, Haru… I guess.”
Haru meowed… Right down his ear. That he had to flinch away from. Haru let out a strange hmprh sound as she was dislodged, slinking back to the ground. She turned away almost instantly, back towards the kibble, and continued to graze on it as if nothing happened.
Tachio, who had been somewhat nearby, batted a paw at her as she went. He missed entirely, by miles, even, but at least the thought was there.
Tiger couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the scene.
“Anyway, this was only supposed to be a short trip,” He spoke aloud to himself, checking the time on his phone as he did so. “Five more minutes then I gotta book it, otherwise I’ll be late to practise.” He scrunched his face at the mere thought, “Last time I was Coach made me run ten laps around the pitch. That sucked.”
A few cats looked up at his words, chirping back, as if protesting. Others bumped up even closer to him, meowing and purring. He couldn’t help but smile at the attempts. They wouldn’t work on him.
Until five minutes turned into ten. 
Then fifteen. 
Then twenty.
Oh he was so screwed…
He ended up running twenty-seven laps around the pitch this time. Each representing a minute he was late by. A new record, honestly. For both how late he was and how much he’d run. Fun times.
“Hey, Tiger?”
Tiger grabbed at his water bottle, bringing it up to his lips to take a quick sip, “Yeah, Joe?”
“I just realised I forgot to ask, so, well–” He sounded sheepish as he slumped down nearby onto one of the changing room’s many benches. “How’s Pepper doing?”
“Don’t tell me he’s looped you into the whole cat-thing too.” North groaned from across the room, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he made his way towards the showers. He couldn’t help but laugh at the grumpily-fond look North threw his way. “This is turning into some sort of cult, Tiger, I swear.”
“How’d you even know what I was talking about?” Joe chuckled, his confusion ebbing away the more he thought about it. “Wait, don’t tell me-”
“You aren’t the first, Joe.” North snorted. “And I bet you won’t be the last, either. He’s dragging all of us in by the second. I mean, I was only there a few days ago for like the third time. Not to mention Rasta’s been helping him out for months.”
Rasta blinked at the mention of his name, glancing up from his phone, confused, “Hm?”
“He’s talking about the ‘cat cult’.” Joe quoted with his fingers, “Am I seriously the last to meet the family? I’m offended, Ti’.”
“Not the last, amigo.” El Matador called out smugly from his locker, adjusting his hair in the mirror he kept on the inside of the door, brushing the long black strands up into his typical ponytail. “But that’s because unlike you, I refuse to be dragged into some stinky dump and catch lice and whatever else those cretins carry. Absolutely not.”
Tiger couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Who said I even wanted you near them to begin with, El Matador? You might be carrying something yourself.”
“Even the mutts of the street want to meet me, Tiger.” He shot back, “And the only things I carry are Gucci, Prada, and Balenciaga. Things I’m sure those mutts have only ever dreamed of.” 
“Mutts are dogs, dude.” North sighed, pinching his brow, though the edges of his mouth quirked up into a faint, exasperated smile, “These are cats. Stray cats.”
“Strays don’t sound nearly as demeaning as it should.” El Matador huffed, “I’ll stick with mutts, thank you.”
— 
"Hi, Mrs. Liang!"
The little bell above the door chimed as Tiger slipped inside. The scent of the store hit him instantly, as it always did: dry hay, dusty plastic, and the heavy sweetness of something floral and powdery. It was familiar, and comforting. Like he’d walked right into his grandmother’s living room after a long day. 
Or a horse stable… Both ideas were nice, though, so he couldn’t really complain.
"Nǐ hǎo, Tiger," Came the usual elderly voice from behind the counter, warm and friendly. "Back so soon? I could've sworn you just left!”
He laughed, already halfway down an aisle, basket swinging from one hand as he scanned his options. "I practically live here, nǎinai. I thought you knew that by now."
"At this rate, I should be charging you rent.” She hummed, “Or at least letting you sleep in the back. I could make you a bed out of the bags of millet I have."
"Tch. If you start paying me in tuna cans and cat toys, maybe I’ll consider it." He poked his head out the end of the aisle, flashing her a grin. "I could be your on-call cat guy.”
“You already are.” Her face creased with a smile, “And I don’t have to pay you whatsoever.”
He ducked back behind the aisle with a huff, “I guess I’ll have to rein back in on how much I help out around here.”
“You’ll come crawling back.” She teased with a laugh, “You always do. You and your crazy obsession with those strays, I swear. I’m surprised they don’t follow you home.”
That made him chuckle, “Sometimes they do, actually.”
“Oh?”
“I had one sneak into practice once.” He grabbed a bag of kitten formula– he figured maybe it might be useful if any of the kittens needed some at any point. “She managed to crawl into North’s locker. Spooked him so bad when he opened it back up that he almost punched the locker door.”
Mrs. Liang let out an amused puff. “I’m sure he wasn’t too pleased with that.” Her face came into view once more as he finally finished up, wandering out from where he had hidden between the aisles, hoisting his now-full basket up onto the counter. Her eyes held a sort of parental sternness that made him duck his head in mock-shame, “And I’m sure neither was your Coach.”
“Yeah…” He laughed, “But it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t think one of them would hide in my bag.”
She gave a low, noncommittal hum, looking up from scanning the items to send a wink in his direction. “Sure, sure.”
“Gah.” He whined, making her giggle, “Stop judging me. I check my bag now before every practice.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, sending him another wink. He couldn’t help but giggle too “Whatever you say. Now. Back on the more important things– why don’t you go grab some more wet food? On me, of course. For the little ones, yes?”
"Ah ah ah, nǎinai." He wagged a finger at her, shaking his head fondly. "You know I make more than enough to pay for it. You’ve gotta stop giving me freebies."
“I’m not giving you freebies.” She argued halfheartedly, “They’re for the cats, unless you plan on eating them yourself.”
He pulled a face at that, “Now I’m definitely not grabbing more.”
She tutted, “You never let me spoil my grandchildren, lǎo Hǔ.”
He couldn’t help but snort, “They’re not my children. They’re more like… friends?”
“And I’m not your grandmother.” She pointed out with a teasing grin, “But yet here we are, and I want my grandbabies well fed. So go get the damn cans, young man–”
Night had begun creeping in by the time Tiger finally managed to save himself from Mrs. Liang’s ‘freebie argument’ and get himself out of the store. The sky was grey and clouded, heavy with rain; the only light coming from the yellow-bulbed streetlights leaning over the pathway as he walked.
Now that he’d escaped the calm wrath of his pseudo-grandmother, it was time to head home, get out of his training gear, and collapse onto his couch to watch some crappy TV with his little hoard of kittens. That sounded like heaven right now.
The walk home wasn’t too long, thankfully- if he took the back routes, that was. Luckily he knew these alleyways like the back of his hand, and while they weren’t too bright, lacking the lights the main streets had, they were bright enough to maneuver through with ease. And that lack of light meant a lack of people. 
Not that he was avoiding people, but sometimes even he preferred some quiet in his hectic life sometimes.
Especially after having spent all his energy bantering with Mrs. Liang. And from running laps around the pitch because he was just a few minutes late.
Not to mention also lugging his sports bag along, full to the brim with both his sports gear and the cat supplies he’d just purchased. Usually he’d bring regular bags, but having only been able to slip in last-minute because of practice getting in the way, he’d resorted to shoving the food in there, instead. So much easier to carry, slung over his shoulder. Not that it didn’t weigh a ton, though, because geez, it did. The thing was a whole workout to carry. His back wouldn’t be thanking him in the morning, that was for certain.
He turned the corner, shifting the weight of his bag slightly as he did so with a grunt.
And that’s when he noticed it. Footsteps. Somewhere behind him. Light, but with an obvious weight behind them. As if someone was trying to sneak, but lacked the frame to do so.
His gait quickened. There was no reason for him to look back– that’d only draw more attention. Walk forward, ignore. Simple– he wasn’t too far from his house, either. 
Besides, what were the chances this was an actual criminal? He wasn’t the only damn person walking around this time of day. He was getting anxious over nothing.
The footsteps grew quicker. “Hey.”
Okay, maybe he’d misspoken. He had far too much bad luck…
“Hey.” The stranger repeated, practically storming after him, “You know I’m talkin’ to you, dammit.”
A big, burly hand shot out, gripping the back of his jacket. He couldn’t help but try and squirm away, but the hand only tightened, a hot breath against his ear. “Fuckin stop.”
Tiger couldn’t help but grit his teeth, instantly stopping his movements. “What do you want?”
“Wallet, bag, the usual shit.” The guy sneered, “You never been mugged before or somethin? Wanderin around in these alleyways? You’re one lucky fella.”
“What can I say? The people I meet aren’t usually assholes.” He bit back. He found himself shoved into a wall for that comment. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Take it, man. There’s nothing of worth in it anyway.”
The stranger’s free hand dragged his bag’s strap over his head, letting the bag drop to the floor. “I’ll be the judge of that. Don’t think I don’t know who you are– you’ve gotta have some good shit in here somewhere.” The hand shoved him into the wall once more, his head bouncing off of the bricks. “Now stay there and don’t fuckin move. You look at me and I’ll kill you, got it?”
He kept his head pressed against the wall. His forehead was warm, and wet now, with what he assumed was blood. “Got it.”
Tiger couldn’t help but wince as he heard the zipper, followed by the sound of cans being haphazardly tossed out onto the concrete floor as the bag was looted. Hopefully they wouldn’t break, it’d be a shame to waste the food. “You some sort of cat-fanatic or somethin?”
“Something like that.”
The carton of formula he’d bought just moments ago hit the ground, a slosh of milk exploding out from the now broken seal. Oh come on. “There’s jack shit here.”
“I told you that.”
The hand was back now, against his jacket, the hot breath back, pressed to his ear. “You got that stupid charm on you that you always carry around?”
His heart lurched at the mere mention of his charm. His shoulders hunched instinctively. “That’s not worth shit either.”
The stranger’s hands moved upwards, towards his neck. “Liar.”
“I’m serious–”
“Mreow?”
Tiger could’ve almost laughed at how the pair of them instantly paused at the sound.
From his peripheral, he could see a little black blob, wandering down the middle of the alleyway. From some of the casted moonlight hitting the alley, he could just make out white speckles.
…Was that Pepper…?
Well this was awkward.
He bit his lip as a finger looped around the necklace his charm sat on, dragging it up so the charm was exposed from where he usually hid it behind his shirt. The stranger chuckled. “For someone who says otherwise, this shit looks mighty expensive.”
Pepper tottled closer, meowing again. He felt the stranger stop to look down at the cat, kicking a foot in Pepper’s direction. “Shoo!”
Pepper hissed, scrambling backwards slightly to avoid being hit.
…Before running and jumping right up onto the guy, claws and teeth fully bared.
“What the fuck-!?” The stranger screeched, letting go of Tiger  as he stumbled backwards, Pepper still hissing and yowling all the while.
Tiger took this opportunity to move, forcing himself away from the wall and spinning around to take in the view.
The man was huge, a big, bulky, tall guy, but he looked absolutely dwarfed with fear as Pepper clung to him, hissing and screeching and snapping, teeth and claws flying.
“Geez.” Was all he could say– because seriously? Was he actually seeing this right now?
He blinked as a few more eyes peered out from the darkness. No way. No way.
Rye, Tachio, Sushi, Haru– all of them were here, darting out from the darkness, looking just as pissed as Pepper did. They joined their fellow cat in what could only be described as a movie-esque battle scene, jumping atop of the stranger and beginning to claw and scratch at him as he cried and babbled, flinging one off only to have two attach themselves in their place. “Get them off of me–!! Please!”
“Uh.” Tiger’s voice couldn’t even begin to be louder than the current war-cry of his weird little cat army. He shrugged at the man, instead moving to sit himself down on the concrete below before he ended up falling down. That blow to the wall earlier clearly took its toll on him. “Sorry…?”
He blinked as a weight settled in his lap, looking downwards despite the nauseous feeling that overcame him as he did so. “Oh.” He grinned at the scruffy-looking, elderly cat curled in his lap. “Hey, Hotdog. I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”
The stranger continued screaming and yelling, beginning to now try and scramble up from where he’d collapsed against a nearby wall. He took off, sprinting down the alleyway, falling into dumpsters and trash as he went, a hoard of cats still clutched tightly to him, with others following suit, yowling and hissing as they ran.
Tiger figured he could sit here then. For a bit, just to regain himself a little. Seemed like his ‘friends’ had everything covered… If the echoes of the stranger’s screams still ringing out into the night meant anything.
Hotdog yawned, nuzzling up against him with a scratchy purr. He accepted the love happily.
*Slaps roof of car* This bad boy took me far too long but it was worth it.
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deadgirlwalking91 · 5 months ago
Note
For the prompts, I'd love to see, like, Adam and Lute at a coffee shop. Interpret however you wish! Love your stuff.
Hey, Sal! I decided to play around with this prompt a little. For context, it's a human AU and as I suspected, I couldn't keep it to 500-750 words, haha. Hope you enjoy!
It was the third time she’d been in this week.
Granted, it was a Friday, so there wasn’t anything necessarily odd about that. The cafe had a shitload of regulars that visited multiple days in a row. Like the weird, steampunk British dude with a lisp, or the loudmouth Aussie chick with the massive cans. Or, worse, the short redhead who seemed a little…unstable. There was something about her that unnerved Adam—probably that time she looked him dead in the eye and licked ketchup off the blade side of her knife with a sadistic as fuck grin.
That day, he’d sought refuge in the kitchen until she’d finally left.
None of them compared to her though. She was cool and collected; never stumbling over her order or digging around blindly in her purse for loose change. Was she friendly? Not really, but that added to her mystique. Though, she did crack a half-smile at one of his lame jokes once. That was cool.
Adam wasn’t serving when she walked through the cafe door that morning. He’d been in the kitchen, waiting for Lucifer to hurry up with the loudmouth Aussie’s breakfast. The rosy-cheeked fuck had been taking his sweet-ass time with her breakfast, and she’d bitched and moaned to Angel that it was taking too long. 
“Hurry the fuck up man, she’s about to cause a scene and I refuse to get my ass chewed out because you’ve counted exactly how many parsley leaves you’re sprinkling over her eggs or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.”
“It’s fifteen, and we don’t have five star reviews on Yelp for nothing, you know.”
“I’d be willing to bet my left nut that the reviews have shit all to do with you.” 
Lucifer shoved the plate towards Adam, looked him dead in the eye and slammed his palm onto the bell. “Service.”
“I’m right fucking here, you don’t need to—”
“Adam!” Charlie rounded the corner, panting slightly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Can I get you to take table eighteen her coffee?”
Table eighteen. That was her. Adam’s hands grew clammy, and he wiped them subconsciously on his jeans. “Charlie, someone’s gotta take this to table eleven. She’s about to explode.”
“Leave Cherri to me.” Angel strode into the kitchen and leaned against the open, steel shelves. He crossed his long, lean arms over his chest and shot Adam a grin. “You take the ice queen. ‘Sides, we all know you’ve got a thing for her.”
“Fuck off, no I don’t—”
“Adam,” Charlie pleaded. “Please just go and serve her the coffee. I’ve left a muffin on the counter for you to take her, too. Tell her it’s on us.”
“What if she doesn’t like muffins?” Adam asked lamely. “Have—have you seen how fit she is? She’s probably, like, gluten-free or some shit.”
“You’re not into her, but you’re worried she’s gluten-free? Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Lucifer, I swear to fuck—”
“Dad, cut it out.” Charlie scolded. She took Adam by the crook of the arm and steered him out of the kitchen. He flipped the bird to Lucifer behind Charlie’s back, who returned the gesture with a one-fingered salute of his own. “She’s not. She’s ordered one before. It’s raspberry choc-chip, and she messaged the cafe’s Instagram to let me know it’s the best muffin she’d ever had.”
“Did she, you know, happen to ask about a tall, extremely good-looking waiter—”
“That’d be me you’re referring to,” Angel chirped as he sashayed past, Cherri’s breakfast held high above his head. “She didn’t mention a wannabe rockstar who’s never played a gig outside of his mom’s garage.”
Adam wanted nothing more than to shove Angel into the wall. Instead, he groaned and rubbed his eyes. He was in desperate need of a stiff drink. It was an urge he usually felt towards the end of each shift thanks to Charlie and her band of misfits, but the desire to down a shot of whiskey hadn’t quite hit him as early as eight o’clock in the morning before. 
There was a first time for everything, he supposed.
“Ignore him,” Charlie whispered. She squeezed Adam’s arm. “Just be yourself; you’ll be fine. Now, hurry up before her coffee goes cold and Husk has to make her another one.”
Adam heaved a sigh as he grabbed a tray and loaded the coffee and muffin onto it. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited at the prospect of getting to talk to her for the third time that week. “Here I go. If I make an ass out of myself, I’m burning this joint to the ground.”
If Charlie heard his thinly-veiled threat, she ignored it. Probably calling her girlfriend to give her a play-by-play of him looking like a dickhead in front of the hot customer.
She didn’t look up right away when he first approached. Her chin was propped up by her hand, and she was deeply engrossed in scrolling through her Instagram feed. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat awkwardly that she looked up, her pale, blue eyes gazing at him as if they were piercing through his very soul.
A slightly dramatic description, but whatever.
“Oh, hey.” She hooked her short, platinum hair behind her ears and stared at the tray, her expression slightly puzzled. “Did I order a muffin? I don’t—”
“It’s free,” Adam blurted out. “Charlie said you messaged the cafe and said these were your favourite, so I thought that—but if you don’t—”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I did. Whoever came up with the recipe for this is a fucking genius. I’m obsessed.”
Like fuck Adam was going to pass that compliment onto Lucifer and inflate his already massive ego. He set the muffin and her coffee down on the table, praying that she didn’t notice how the glass cup rattled against the ceramic saucer. “I actually suggested the flavour to our chef. It’s my favourite, too.”
He didn’t, and it wasn’t. His favourite was actually triple chocolate chip. She didn’t need to know that, though.
“A man with good taste.” She flashed him a wide smile. “I like that.”
“Yeah, well…” Adam shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Glad there’s something that keeps you coming back.”
“Oh, there is.” She wrapped her hands around the latte glass and cocked her head at him. “You know, you serve me every time I come here, and I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Adam. And yours is Lute. You come in every Monday morning and order an almond latte to-go. You bring your own reusable cup—it’s black with some kind of cool design that I can’t make out—and I’ve told our barista if he fucks up your order he won’t hear the end of it. From me, not you. And it—it’s been good, uh, seeing you in here more this week.”
Jesus Christ, what the fuck was wrong with him? She didn’t need all that extra information; all she’d done was stated that she didn’t know his name. Technically, she hadn’t even asked for his name. He’d just rattled it off like some lovesick sap in a bad nineties rom-com. All he needed was large cue-cards and a boombox.
Actually, Adam was pretty sure neither of those things belonged to the nineties-era of movies, but that wasn’t the point.
“Anyway,” he mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears burn. He was going to go and stick his head in the freezer. “You, uh, enjoy the coffee and the muffin. They’re on us. I’m gonna go and—”
“Wait.” Lute reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “You know, this is a pretty big muffin, and you guys seem quiet this morning. It’s gotta be close to your break time; why don’t you split it with me?”
Adam glanced over at Charlie, who was pretending not to eavesdrop as she cleaned a nearby table. She shot him an enthusiastic thumbs up and retrieved her phone from the pocket of her apron; thumbs furiously flying across the screen. His smartwatch pinged, and he quickly glanced down at the message that flashed across the screen.
Great. It wasn’t her girlfriend she’d been updating. It was the fucking work group chat.
Charlie: He shoots, he scores!!!
Adam shut his watch off without a second thought. There was no way he was letting the likes of Lucifer and Angel ruin this moment.
“Yeah,” he breathed, sliding into the chair opposite Lute. “Yeah, I’d love that.”
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boundbyeclipse · 7 months ago
Note
3(fluff) or 5(fluff) with Lars Ulrich??? Seems like it’d be really cute for him:>
Hope you’ve been having a good day!🫶
-👻
i only have eyes for you
genre : fluff
word count : 952
tags : softie!lars, lars x reader, one swear word, and that's basically it
from the prompt list : 3. "I'll walk you home"
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It was a chilly November evening, the sun going down and slowly disappearing within the horizon, fall leaves crunching under your feet as you walked  to the cafe. You adored the colors of them, as well as the scent, it was such a beautiful time of the year. But you weren’t the only one thinking that way - Lars thought alike, who was right beside you. The boy with long, luscious brown hair and dreamy green eyes was taking you out on a date for the first time ever since you two met. 
It happened two months ago, while Metallica was performing on the stage, you arrived to pay a visit to your brother who worked as a staff member for the boys. Once the show was done, he kindly introduced you to all four of them. They all looked really handsome, but specifically Lars. You found him magnetic, it was hard to stop staring at that guy the whole entire time. The hair, the smile, the voice. Oh, did he notice. But you weren’t the only one who found it hard to look elsewhere. Lars clearly had trouble with it too.
The boys, being friendly and nice, offered to go eat something and just hang out with you and your brother all together. Sure, you agreed, because why not? Anyone would say yes to going out with Metallica. Now that was one hell of a lucky day. 
Well, ever since then, Lars got to see you more and more because you would come to visit your brother almost every time they had a concert. You knew you were welcome there so it was not a problem for anybody to have you coming. 
Eventually, Lars found himself thinking about you so much, every day and night, to the point where he realized that he liked you a lot, and that he had to do something about it quickly. Mind you, he’s quite the possessive type, so Lars wasn’t going to let anyone else pull you away from him. And with that being said, after having dinner with the boys, he called you and asked you if you wanted to go out for coffee. First move was successful. 
That’s how you ended up here, in this cafe with Lars who sat in front of you. You couldn’t help but smile the entire time you two talked and whenever he made you laugh a lot. With him, time was flying and you didn’t even think about it until you looked at the clock. 
“Wait, what? We’ve been here for three hours already?” your eyes widened upon realization. 
“Shit, I thought we’ve only been here for like an hour” Lars chuckled, leaning back in his seat and also taking a look at the clock on the wall to his left. 
“You okay with spending so much time with me?” 
He shrugged, “I don’t mind that, we got nothing to do tomorrow anyways” 
“And you still chose to invite me on a date today instead of tomorrow after you’ve had your rest, ugh” you jokingly rolled your eyes and sighed, shaking your head  in disbelief. 
Lars smirked to himself avoiding eye contact as he fiddled his fingers as he had his hands in his lap. He was just thinking about what to say to you. 
“I’m just like that. If I don’t do it now, I might not get the chance to do it ever again” 
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
“Do I look like a skittish cat that’s going to just run off suddenly? I didn’t give you my number only to disappear the next day” 
“Who knows, maybe you don’t like me” he smiled to himself, fixing his hair and placing his elbows on the table. You only shook your head and looked at him with a giggle.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, you idiot”
It made him smile wider, genuinely, the teasing from you made him feel happy. That’s one of the things he liked about you so much - when you called him names and had a bit of an attitude to yourself. He only wanted to know more about you.
After another twenty-ish minutes, you decided it was time to go home since it was getting late and you both needed to get some sleep. It was also already dark outside and you weren’t so comfortable with walking home on your own. But to your surprise, Lars spoke up.
“I’ll walk you home” as if he could read your mind.
“Really?” “Yeah. I’m not letting you go all alone when it’s this dark out” 
You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide the smile that was breaking out, but failed as it was impossible to stop it. 
“Thank you” 
“Thank me later” he said, helping you with your coat. 
The walk was soon over as you reached the location of your home, standing right in front of it together as the wind began to pick up pace. It was getting colder, too.
You shrugged your shoulders up in response to the wind. 
“Can I thank you now?” 
“Yes”
“Thank you, Lars” 
Both of you smiled at each other. 
“No worries. Now get your beautiful face inside and get all cozy and warm, alright?”
“Okay. And you text me when you’re back and safe. Got it?” 
Lars nodded.
“I will” 
Oh, how much he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want to rush. But that’s okay, he’s got all the time to do it. So instead, he just patted the top of your head before saying goodnight and heading back to the hotel they were staying at, sending you a text right then and there,  just as he promised. 
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echoghost1 · 2 months ago
Text
Phic Phight Phic #1!!
Title: The Future Without You
Word Count: 1,463
Prompt: What if instead of ordering the death of Danny Phantom the observants just assimilated him as one of them instead?
Prompter: @skarlettskwrl
You can read it on AO3 or down below the cut!
A chill ran up Danny’s spine, followed by an involuntary gasp of his ghost sense fogging his breath.
He glanced around both to try and spot the ghost, and to find a place to hide so he could transform.
He didn’t see the ghost, but was able to slip out of view in a nearby secluded walkway.
Once he was in ghost form he looked around again for whatever set off his sense.
“You’ll be coming with us.” said a voice from behind him.
He spun around to face the speaker and was greeted with an ectoblast to the chest.
He tumbled backwards and found that once he had righted himself they were now in the ghost zone.
“Well, this is less than ideal.” Danny quipped in an effort to stay calm.
“What isn’t ideal is the future that you ruin!” the ghost who blasted him retorted.
“How did I ruin something that hasn’t happened yet?”
The ghost glared with it’s singular eye and pointed an accusatory green finger at Danny, “We have seen what you are going to do.”
A second identical ghost added, “We have watched as you destroy both the lives of the living and the souls of the dead.”
It was followed by a third copy, “We will not allow this to pass.”
Danny tried to keep up with what they were saying, but it was hard enough to keep focus on one person talking nonsense, let alone three.
“Destroy lives? Ruin the future? This doesn't sound like something I would do. Are you sure you’ve got the right guy?”
“We are more than certain.” a fourth identical ghost said as if floated up behind him.
“Both of who you are, and what you become.” Said a ghost on his right.
Danny couldn’t tell if it was a fifth one or one of the previous ones.
“This future is set and we can not allow it to happen.”
“Then tell me what I have to do to avoid it? If I know what happens, I can make different choices.”
“We can not leave this to you. It is too important. You’ve done enough damage already.”
“But I haven’t done anything!”
“Yet.”
How was Danny supposed to argue with that? How was he supposed to fight against a future he couldn’t even see? A future he could barely believe could even happen.
He wasn’t sure he could even fight his way out of this. He was outnumbered and they had already ambushed him once.
Plus running was pointless, they already knew how to find him.
If he couldn’t fight his way out maybe he could talk it out? Or at least stall until someone friendly came along.
“How do I know you aren’t just making stuff up? I don’t even know who you are!”
“We are the Council of the Observants. We watch over the timestream and see all that is, was, and ever will be.”
“We vowed to never interfere, but we must this time. We must keep the future from being utterly destroyed. It’s the only way.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Simple. We’ll remove the problem from the timestream.”
The group of Observants rushed Danny before he could even react.
Several pairs of green hands held him in place. Their grip on him was as firm as it was numerous.
More members of the council floated towards them. A pair was working together to carry a chest over.
“Wait, what are you going to do? What do you mean by removing the problem?”
“Patience and you will see.”
He watched as they opened the chest and pulled out a robe that looked exactly like the one they all wore.
Seeing that only made him more confused. 
He'd been expecting some sort of weapon, not an outfit.
“We had thought that the answer was to kill you.”
He tensed and tried to escape but all he could muster was a slight wiggle of protest.”
“We would have had to outsource the task due to our oath.” 
“There is only one ghost we could ask,” another Observant continued, “and while he may share our gifted sight, he does not share our vision.”
Danny raised an eyebrow at that. “Aren't sight and vision the same thing?”
“Not quite, young one, but you'll understand soon enough.” 
“How? First you tell me I'm some sort of future criminal and that makes me bad already? Then you say you were going to kill me via some kind of future seeing assassin or something, but then changed your mind? And now your showing me a spare robe? Nothing any of you say makes sense!”
He struggled against them again but this time they loosened their grip.
He thought he was going to get away, but instead they just forced him into the robe from the chest.
It was way too big for him. His feet were completely obscured but when he switched to his ghostly tail just a bit of the tip peaked out past the hem. The collar was so stiff and tall all he could see was whatever was directly in front of him.
A pair of Observants on either side of him held out his arms and removed his gloves. 
“Hey! It's one thing to make me wear these weird robes but don't take my stuff!”
“You won't be needing those anymore.”
They pushed him closer to the chest and one of the many Observants that wasn't holding him reached into the chest and pulled out a mask.
It was painted to look like a giant eyeball. It looked exactly like theirs. 
He had a horrible feeling that if they put that mask on him, there would be no going back.
“Please don't.”
“Do not be scared. Once the process is complete, the future will be saved.”
“It won't matter in a few minutes, but would you like to know why your future was inescapable?”
Danny nodded both because he wanted to stall them and because he was curious.
“By the end of this week, your life would have changed forever. Everything you knew, everyone you cared for, will be wiped off the face of the earth.”
“Everyone?” 
“Yes, everyone. They all perish and you are unable to save them. This leads to our problem.”
“The problem is that your crushing loneliness drives you to madness. In turn this madness leads to the destruction of everything. You lose everything and then destroy all that you can get your greedy little hands on.”
He wants to protest. He wants to say he wouldn't do that.
He wants to.
But he can't. 
He can barely wrap his mind around the idea of losing them at all. Everyone all at once sounds so much worse. 
And he can't even save them? Even with his powers?
“But you won’t have to worry about that once we’re finished.” One of the Observants said as they gently caressed his cheek, “Soon you will be one of us and it will be impossible to be alone again.”
“Once you join us you’ll know all that we know.” Another Observant reassured, “The line between you and us will cease to be.”
As much as he knew he should be terrified, part of him wasn’t scared at all.
Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched that he would destroy everything when everything that mattered to him was ripped away.
If he really was going to do something so horrible, should he be mad that they have to stop him.
Is it really that bad if the punishment was inclusion to their group?
How could he argue when everything they were offering was the fix for every problem he had.
He always hated being different. Never really liked being alone. He didn’t want to be bad.
And if everyone he loved was about to die soon, he wasn’t leaving anyone behind that would miss him anyway.
What more could he possibly want?
He closed his eyes and braced himself.
The mask was pressed against his face and then it went further. 
The line between his skin and the mask blurred until he could no longer feel the difference. 
He waited a moment, long enough to take a breath, and opened his eyes.
No.
They opened their eye. They only needed one to see the timeline.
They had been released at some point. They weren’t sure when. They had been a tad preoccupied with becoming their new self.
“Can we see the future now?” they asked.
They knew what it was like from the shared memories, but they wanted to see with their own eye.
“Yes, let us verify that the problem has been eradicated.”
They followed their fellow Observants to the viewing chambers.
If they had a mouth, they would be smiling.
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anystalker707 · 2 years ago
Text
Jealous? Me?
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x [gender-neutral, afab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Jealous sex Tags: Transmasc friendly / Dom-Sub undertones / Penetration / Strap game / Bottom law !
KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST
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          You sat on the bed in the cabin, with your back against the wall, messing with a paper you’d found on the bedside table. It had nothing important nor special, but anything counted if there wasn’t an opening for a talk. He noticed it, certainly, Law was a smart guy, though he was also awful at talking about anything that involved feelings, whether they were his or not. Obviously, he put some effort into it when it came to you, and it still wasn’t any easier.
Law tried not to look a lot at you. He glanced around the cabin, restless, trying to find something to do after placing his sword down and leaving his hat on the desk. The desk, bedside table, adjusting the poster on the wall. None of it really worked. Eventually, he slowly let out a breath and stripped down to his boxer shorts to get ready for bed and sat down next to you. As much as he tried to rethink every single little thing he’d done that day, Law just couldn’t figure out what exactly made you act like that. It was a normal day at an island, restocking and chilling around a little. He had even been around you for most of the time.
Okay. There needed to be a first step, right? Law rested his head on your shoulder—or at least tried to, meeting the mattress instead. “Babe,” he sighed, bottom lip sticking out a little, as he crossed his arms. No answer. He raised his eyebrows a little, thinking for a moment. “Come on.”
“I can’t believe this still happens,” you sighed as you put the paper away and looked at Law. “Every single time, you’re always letting someone hit on you. Last time, it was that guy at the open market when we were buying food, but today, it was that woman at the docks. Like, I know you don’t flirt back or even think about anyone else, but can’t you at least push them away? It was obnoxious watching her shove her tits into your face while you just sat there. Are you dead or something?”
Well, Law did seem dead, to some degree. You couldn’t help but find it a little funny when he looked up at you with his droopy eyes, dark circles under them—your face didn’t mirror your thoughts, though.
“I’m sorry.” Law pressed his lips together. “You know that I just don’t care. It’s not like they know me or they’re going to kiss me or anything. Does it even matter?”
You narrowed your eyes at Law; he furrowed his eyebrows, looking up for a moment before he sat up, slowly exhaling. Despite your attempts to pull away, he still wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder.
“What I’m trying to say is that they’re unimportant. I only have eyes for you,” he mumbled, kissing your shoulder.
“At least be a little more considerate because I hate watching this happen,” you sighed, rolling the paper up to smack Law’s head then put it away again.
“Ouch,” he groaned, scrunching his nose. “You know you’re the only one who gets to touch me, to kiss me, to see my bed hair, to see me all skrunkly whenever sleep-deprived… The only one who gets cuddles, love, this body, kisses,” he continued listing, observing your face carefully—his heart fluttered at the smallest sign of a smile on your face. “But I will try to be more attentive about it. For you, babe.”
A sigh escaped your lips, and Law felt your shoulder relaxing under his head. “Okay.” You nodded, looking at him. “But I still expect you to make up for it. Come on, Law.” The fact you said his name instead of a pet name made him look at you again, pausing as he met your gaze. “Did you even remember my existence after that woman in the docks started flirting with you? I bet all you think about now are her tits, with the way she kept shoving it in your face. You barely talked to me after that. You only approached me now, and…”
“Stop being so dramatic!” Law groaned as he threw a leg over and straddled your lap, facing you. “You know how bad I am with this stuff, and you kept avoiding me!” His palms pressed both of your cheeks together as he looked at you in the eyes. “What was I supposed to do, hm? I was thinking about you all the time!”
You crossed your arms over your chest with a scoff. “Untrue.”
Law’s eyebrows knitted together, and he pouted again. “I only have eyes for you. I literally have a tattoo with your name, pictures of you everywhere, I take you everywhere. What else do you need?” He wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you close, and you wanted to laugh at his growing desperation.
Of course, he loved you. Protecting you was always Law’s first reaction whenever some danger approached, and he needed to spend at least a certain amount of time with you during the day, or else he’d get extremely clingy. Not to mention the small things he did, like making sure you were always eating properly or drinking enough water, always knowing when you needed hugs or space.
“You’re so fake!” You clicked your tongue, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his collarbone—his hands rested on your back with the change. “You don’t even like me, Trafalgar, you just use me because there’s no one else for you in the sub!”
Law felt like dying. He knew it was playful banter, but there was a bottom of truth, and he didn’t know what to do right now to get that off your mind. Whatever he had to say turned into a gasp once you started nipping on his collarbones instead of just kissing, also making your way up his neck. A soft groan escaped his lips as he leaned his head back, and the new kisses up his throat made him groan again.
“Goddammit, (y/n),” he sighed.
The soft touches on his back made Law shiver, feeling your fingers trace down his spine gently, eventually slipping into his boxers—he swallowed dryly as he kept still, despite the frustration once your hand pulled away.
“I hate you.” Law rubbed the back of your neck, humming at how your lips sucked a mark into the side of his neck.
“I know,” you chuckled as you leaned back and looked at him. “If you didn’t hate me, you wouldn’t be letting anyone else hit on you like that!”
Law’s eyes widened as he glared at you, clicking his tongue. That was getting ridiculous. “I’m yours,” he said with a nod. “I’m all yours. Only yours. Your property, your boyfriend, your girlfriend, and whatever else you want.” His face fell as you chuckled more, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. You were insufferable, but he loved you so much it hurt.
“You’re so cute when you’re desperate like that,” you chuckled, but you were shut up by a kiss this time. Despite the initial lack of reaction, you slowly kissed Law back.
The soft kisses started gaining urgency in no time—Law’s teeth tugged on your lips before he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth at the first opportunity you got. Fuck, it made you groan. Your hands tightened around his waist, and Law finally felt like he was getting somewhere.
“Stop being so annoying,” Law breathed against your lips. “You’re lucky that I love you.”
You eyed him with a smirk, shaking your head a little. “Do you, though?” Before there was any interruption, you shifted your positions, making Law fall back on the mattress. “Whatever. I think it’s about time I give you a little reminder about who you belong to.”
Law perked up a little at the same time his cheeks burned, and he had to close his eyes for a moment. “I’m not against that.”
“Of course you aren’t.”
It didn’t take long for you to undress, get the box from the wardrobe, and get the strap-on ready, but it felt like an eternity for Law as he buried his face into the pillow he hugged, also undressed. He was thankful you couldn’t see his cock under him because he was afraid he’d started leaking already just from the pressure of the occasion.
The mattress shifting around him brought Law back to reality. He lifted his head as he felt you straddle the back of his thighs, and the soft kisses pressed between his shoulder blades eased part of the anxiety. With a soft hum, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the pillow again, sideways this time. He loved the way you touched him, so careful and loving. Your fingertips traced the tattoos on his back, going down to his tramp stamp—your thumbs pressed to it so nicely, rubbing circles into the skin. He moaned at something as simple as that.
“Stretch?” You asked, receiving a hum of denial in response. It rushed things a little.
The lube was cold, eventually warming up as you spread it evenly over your fingers. Your thumb held Law’s ass cheek to the side and exposed his waiting hole; he gasped, tensing up under you once two of your fingers pressed to his entrance. In soft circles, they traced his hole, spreading the lube before starting to push in. Law let out a sound that was muffled against the pillow, clenching tightly.
You didn’t take long—since Law didn’t need you to stretch him first, you didn’t bother lingering around sensitive spots or curling your fingers up inside him, only spreading the lube generously. The strap’s dildo was next.
Law visibly tensed up a little as he felt you shifting, but he didn’t move. A knee sank into the bed beside each of Law’s thighs, and there was an elbow by his side before he felt the toy press to his entrance. He moaned, pressing his eyes shut as he felt your cock slowly push in, stretching him so nicely as his walls accommodated around it, and his back arched a little bit once he felt it start pressing to his sensitive spots. It felt so good.
“Fuck,” you whispered, letting your other elbow sink into the bed as well, now that you didn’t need to guide the toy into him anymore. Your chest pressed to Law’s back, feeling it rise with his breathing, which easily fell out of pace as you started moving your hips.
The first thrust was shallow, barely having anything moving, but it helped you adjust your position to find enough support to make things easier. Law hissed as he felt you slowly build a pace, his fingers wrapping around the pillow as his cock twitched between him and the mattress. He could relax according to how his body got used to the new pleasure, burying the lower half of his face into the pillow, muffling his moans.
“Still thinking about someone else?” You breathed into Law’s ear, your voice carrying that bitter tone that agonized him so fucking much. “Or did you remember who’s your actual partner, hm?” A gasp came from Law as your hips snapped particularly sharply, pressing to a sensitive spot inside him. “You must like making me jealous,” you sighed.
His will to protest was practically useless—whatever you did to him, it took away Law’s capability of forming a proper train of thought, only allowing him to focus on how good you made him feel. The best he could do was groan in a tone that mixed pleasure and complaint, and he was sure it only amused you.
A trail of kisses was left along Law’s shoulder, sometimes interrupted by soft nipping. Your lips felt so nice, hot against his skin, adding to the pleasure that only you could ever give him. The thrusts became a little more intense, not exactly faster, as you bit down on his shoulder; Law arched his back with it, moaning.
You reached deep inside him, making him feel so deliciously full, so good. His fingers sank into the pillow again, holding it tightly to himself.
It took you a while, slowly removing an elbow from the mattress and slowly stabilizing yourself so that you could reach a hand up to Law’s face. He was a little confused but gasped at feeling your fingers pushing into his mouth, two of them, forcing their way in as your palm pressed to his cheek. He was forced to stop burying his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, letting his moans shamefully fill the room along with your unsteady breathing and the occasional squelching sound.
“Ahhh,” Law groaned, unable to say anything even if he wanted to. Drool started running down the corner of his mouth, and he wanted to disappear for a moment—he felt embarrassed at the same time he felt stupidly good.
Maybe he lost track of time for a moment. His mind started getting fuzzier at some point, the corners of his vision blackening out, his cock aching as it throbbed, all somehow turning him on even more. Reality came back to him with the way you groaned, shifting a little behind him, and his tongue was already hanging out of his mouth at this point.
You were probably aware of how it made him feel and felt proud of it. Your thrusts kept going, fucking Law so nicely, keeping that angle that made his back arch more and his moans grow a pitch higher.
“What’s it?” You whispered, lips grazing the shell of his ear. Hell, the way you regretted not getting a vibrator or something inside yourself before. He was such a mess under you… It made you feel so hot, unfortunately unattended; the eventual friction of the back of the strap-on against you didn’t even count.
“I hope the next time someone is hitting on you, you actually remember how nice I fuck you. Maybe that’ll help instead,” you said sharply.
Law would never admit it, but he loved it when you’d change roles with him and take charge like that, muttering loving or cruel words to him, riding or fucking him—he was a sucker for it. He knew some things that would often trigger this change, and one of them was jealousy. No, he never made you jealous on purpose, but whenever he noticed your bad mood towards him was due to jealousy, his cock already throbbed in his pants.
The moans that slipped from Law’s lips grew each time louder according to how his orgasm approached, forming that familiar tingling sensation in the base of his stomach. His mouth ached a little from the way your fingers tugged on it, but maybe he enjoyed pain.
Law’s cum made a hot and sticky mess that’d require a change of bedsheets later, shot between himself and the mattress as he kept being fucked through his high, and even after. He whimpered, gasping for air at the edge of overstimulation that was quickly replaced by the awful feeling of nothingness at the same time your hand let go of him. He clenched around nothing as you pulled your cock out of him, arching his back then curling up a little while whimpering more. Too much to process. You were making him go crazy.
“Fuck,” you whispered, pulling back to take the strap off, no matter how messy it was. “My time now, right?” You kissed the back of Law’s neck and pressed a hand to his back. “I hope you didn’t forget me again.”
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
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lorifragolina · 10 months ago
Text
More than Roommates...?
Another entry for @harringrovesummerbingo!
It's a silly rom com and I tried to keep it short :) I hope you enjoy it!
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Title: More than Roommates...?
Square & Prompt: C1 "Laughter"
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 2501
Major Tags: Friendly schemes, Enemies to Lovers
Summary:
Steve and Billy are roommates, but they didn't start with the right foot... even if they became attracted to each other pretty soon. But both of them think that the other didn't swing the same way... Two smart friends and a good scheme are needed for making them move... or not?
Read it on AO3
“Robin, he’s not gay, it’s as plain as day”.
“I never see him with a girl”.
“It’s because he’s not… I mean, he doesn’t… he just goes casual”.
“Well you can just ask and remove any doubt”.
“Are you nuts? He’s my roommate, I can’t go and ask something like this”.
Robin snorted and shrugged. It was the third or fourth time they had a similar discussion, in a corner of the cafeteria in front of their morning coffees. Usually, Steve had some wet dream about his roommate and went to venting with her. 
“Well I’ll ask him then,” she said stubbornly, frankly fed up with the hesitation of her best friend.
“Don’t you dare! Do you have an idea of how much it has cost me to find that room? I can’t ruin things with him”.
“I know, Steve, do you forget we moved here together?”
“Yes but you are a brainiac and you have your room granted in the residence”.
Robin snorted again soundly. It hadn't been so easy as Steve was painting it,  for her, but she could understand his doubts. 
Moreover, Steve and his roommate had a rough start and now, almost at the end of their freshman year, things were smoother and it was better trying not to ruin them.
“So, did you have some action lately?”
Heather adjusted the camera and went nearer to the screen, smiling slyly.
Billy sighed. “Nothing at all… dead calm”, he moaned, shaking his head.
“Don’t tell me you're still after him,” she raised her eyes. “Why don’t you make a move yet?”
“Sweet Jesus, he’s not gay!” shrieked Billy, regretting immediately for raising his voice, even if he was in his room alone. “He’s not gay, I already told you”.
“You can’t say. Do you know how many people swing in both ways?”
“He’s not”.
“Did he ever bring a girl into his room?”
“Well Robin is always here, but…”
“But they’re having sex? No, they don’t, so?”
“Well, maybe they…”
“Why don’t you ask him out? What could happen? At least you’ll stop bothering me with that nonsense”.
Billy knew that Heather loved him madly and he didn’t take her words badly, but she didn’t live there and she had no real idea of the situation.
It was him who had to live with Steve, and he didn’t want to ruin the delicate situation they created lately.
They had bitter arguments at the start of the year;  Billy liked to blast his metal out loud and having large Skype call in the common space until late, while Steve loved cheesy pop music and he wanted to sleep in the middle of the night; Billy liked to exercise and go to the gym and take care of his appearance, occupying the bathroom for hours. Steve was equally vain, but ha was not a morning person, so he passed half of his mornings knocking frantically at the bathroom door, and when he was able to going in, he didn’t mind to use Billy’s hair and body product, driving him mad when he smelled the scent of his special hair mousse on Steve’s hair. 
One time Steve had run out of the bathroom yelling like mad because he found Billy’s body hair in his razor, starting an argument that lasted almost two weeks. As if that were not enough, they had argued also in class, bickering about some unimportant detail in the textbook and their feud had been the goss of the week. 
They kept being on each other's way in college orientation events and in the basketball matches, but after a really tense few months, they reasoned out as adults, then they apologized and the cohabitation had started to go better. 
The problem was, for Billy, that all the confront and bickering had made him fixating in Steve’s body language, his moves and gestures and to walk in the room when he was agitated, how he passed his hands in his hair or put his hand on his hips, and specially in how the little mole at the side of his mouth moved when he was arguing, distracting Billy and driving Steve really mad; he didn’t know that in those moment when Billy forgot how to blink, he was thinking of kissing that little mole and all the other moles in his face and licking his neck and biting him and…
“Billy? Are you here?” Steve knocked at the door before entering.
Billy was still on his Skype call.
“I have to go, Heater, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said in a rush, closing the laptop.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you”.
“Don’t worry, I have already finished the call”.
“Ok… something important?”
“Oh no… family thing, you know, nothing important…”
Steve nodded, taking a glass of water and drinking near the sink with his hand on his hips, pensive. Billy had to gulp his agitation and smiled tensely.
“I was thinking to have a shower, do you want to use the bathroom?” He asked kindly, one of the things he learned to do to maintain their good relationship.
“Oh, no thanks, go ahead,” Steve smiled tensely too, washing a couple of dishes still in the sink since the morning. 
He was almost sure that he heard a feminine voice, he knew that Billy had a sister but it didn’t seem to him the same voice; Billy always closed his calls when he came in the room, because he didn’t want to argue anymore about bothering calls, but Steve suspected he called always the same girl, probably his distant girlfriend and for this he never bring any woman at home. Steve didn’t dare ask to maintain the balance between them and the peace they gained so difficulty.
He suffered for not knowing, anyway… he didn’t define himself as gay, he liked girls, but he also liked men very much, and Billy in particular was his type almost exactly, although they started hating each other; but he liked ripped, neat men, well trimmed, with an angelic nuisance and a nasty attitude; and Billy, with his Californian Barbie complexion, was almost near to perfection, making him struggle to stay formal near to him. Even if Billy still hadn’t picked up any girl at college, he had a crowd of female admirers and he seemed to enjoy it, so Steve knew he couldn’t have a possibility. Moreover, if he would come out with Billy, he could feel uncomfortable; he didn’t seem homophobe, but not everyone wanted to sleep with a non straight roommate. 
“Oh, shit,” groaned Steve, raising his eyes to the cafeteria door. 
“Oh, shit,” echoed Robin, for completely different reasons. 
Billy had just entered with a stunning brunette hanging at his arm, a beaming smile and gushing with happiness.
The girl was short but curvy, with pink hearted glasses and red lips, and a pair of mini shorts that showed her nicely shaped legs; the perfect Barbie complement for Billy, sighed Steve seeing his hopes shattered in the floor. 
Robin couldn’t also take her eyes off of the girl, definitely her type, even if she seemed she couldn't take her eyes off of Billy.
“Hey,” Billy waved at Steve, who he felt he wanted to die. He smiled and waved back. 
“Hello, I didn’t know you were here either… Heather just arrived by train to visit me”.
“Hello,” said the girl, lowering the glasses and raising her hand directly to Robin. “I’m Heather”.
“I’m Robin,” she answered, breathless. They looked at each other for a long, long moment, until Billy dared to speak again.
“And he’s Steve, my roommate”.
Heather smiled again, giving him her hand too. “Oh. I heard a lot about you”.
Steve blushed and Billy nudged her. “Stop it,” he hissed, then went to the bar to order the coffee.
“So, you’re studying here too?” Heather asked directly to Robin, who blushed, leaving Steve wide mouthed and speechless. They talked a little bit, ignoring Steve completely until Billy returned with the drinks. Robin got up to go to class reluctantly.
“Well I’m staying all weekend, I hope you can join us for dinner tonight,” Heather chirped with a soundly voice, and Robin nodded and went away, giggling. 
“So you’re the famous Steve,” she immediately turned to him, resting her face on her hand. “I thought you were taller”.
“Heather!” Hissed Billy.
Steve cleared his throat. “Will you… will you stay in our room?” His voice was oddly high pitched.
“Oh no, I booked a B&B here near the campus. I don’t want to bother you two big guys,” she giggled and they both blushed furiously. 
“But I hope you don’t mind if she stays a little in the room…” said Billy carefully. 
“Oh no, not at all”.
Heather smiled and they finished their drink, then she and Billy went away to visit the campus, leaving Steve sitting there, heartbroken.
“I don’t want to go to dinner with the lovebirds!” Said Steve later, outside Robin dorm. Robin pouted and looked at him with flames in her eyes. 
“Are you stupid?” She hissed. “I’ll go even if you don’t come”.
“If you like to be the third wheel…”
“God, you’re really stupid!” Robin crossed her arms and refused to talk again with him. 
When she reached them at the restaurant, Steve looked at her, really puzzled. He never saw her so dressed up before. She barely used makeup and combed her hair with a bobby pin to avoid hair in the eyes, but that night she was wearing a fancy jacket and pants and she curled her hair and painted her eyes and lips; she was really pretty, and when he looked the glance Heather gave to her, he finally understood why she called him stupid lately. 
Billy and Steve witnessed their shameless flirtation with wide eyes, unable to say anything and looking furtively at each other, utterly embarrassed. Steve was glad she definitely wasn’t his distant girlfriend, and Billy was glad that Robin was the platonic girlfriend of Steve, but they didn’t know how to break the ice to each other and bring the topic on the table. They kept talking about trivial things, some sport results and TV shows while their friends were talking intensely and ignoring them.
Steve and Billy didn’t notice that they exchanged each other's numbers, but when they left the restaurant, Heather announced that she wanted to go resting after the trip, but she would be free the rest of the weekend to do something fun with them.
Billy walked her to her hotel and Steve and Robin went away in the opposite direction.
“What the fuck was that?” Snapped Steve once they were a little far.
“What?”
“All that thing, you were… flirting with her? You had just met her!”
Robin shrugged, looking at her mobile that had just buzzed. 
“Well she’s not his girlfriend. And he clearly hasn’t problems with queer people”.
Steve sighed. Well, there was a difference between having a lesbian friend and sleeping in the same room with someone who wanted to be in your pants.
“You couldn’t stay quiet, not for a little minute, could you?” Hissed Billy walking with her.
“You didn’t tell me she was gorgeous and lesbian, Billy. Is your gaydar broken?”
“I don’t… hey I don’t need to justify with you! I… I just didn’t realize”.
“Well it’s the perfect excuse to make a move with him, don’t you think? And you didn’t tell me he had that juicy ass, you little scoundrel”.
“Oh, please, stop! It’s a coincidence his friend is a lesbian. It doesn’t mean anything”
“Oh, it doesn't mean anything, Mr queer like a three dollar bill?”
“Stop this nonsense, I can do nothing with him. He’s straight and we are roommates, that’s all”.
Heather groaned and entered the hotel. She wrote to Robin immediately, chatting with her all night. 
“Is there some club to go dancing near there?” Asked Heather the next night, peeping a glimpse at Robin. 
“Well the Pink Flag is over there and they have good cocktails,” answered Robin immediately, waving at the end of the street. “You don’t have problems going to a queer bar, right, Steve?”
Steve blushed and nodded, of course he didn’t have problems, they went there very often, but he looked at Billy’s face, who blushed, lowered his face and nodded too. The girls joined the queue hand in hand and abandoned them behind. 
Billy tried to smile, worried, and saw the same expression on Steve's face. “Well at least they’re having a good time,” he sighed, while the girls were already chatting with the bouncer, who knew Robin, and obviously Steve. He accurately avoided confessing to Billy that he was a regular there, but he couldn't hide it for longer.
“Hey Steve, it’s been ages, I missed you! Oh, he is the guy Robin just told me about?”
“Hello… hello Alan…” answered nervously Steve, looking at his feet and running inside before the bouncer could say more embarrassing things. 
Robin and Heather were still inside, giggling at the dirty look he launched at them.
“How you dared!” He hissed to Robin. 
“Well you needed a nudge,” she giggled, disappearing on the dance floor with Heather.
Billy was looking at him, confused. “I’m not sure what had just happened outside… Do you come here often?”
Steve blushed. “Well, me and Robin, we… well, you know…”
“And what he said? You… talked about… me… with Robin?”
Steve gulped, looking away, feeling the tense in Billy’s words. 
“She thinks… well, she thinks I have… she thinks I have a little crush on you, that’s all. But don’t worry, I am not…”
“Oh shit,” Billy hit his forehead. “Don’t you see?” Steve looked at him, puzzled. “Don’t you see? They set a trap! It’s so clear!”
“A trap? But why? You don’t… don’t you…?”
Billy snickered, a little embarrassed too. “Well, well it’s possible that I… I mentioned to Heather that… I may like my roommate just a little bit”.
“Those filthy little bitches!” Snapped Steve, and Billy laughed, heartily, defusing the tension between them. Steve joined his laughter, looking in his eyes and staring at his swollen, juicy lips.
“I… I never heard you laughing…” he said, touching Billy’s arm with bashfulness. “I like it,” he smiled then, and Billy melted, looking at him with glossy, puppy eyes. 
He cupped Steve’s face and pecked him, kissing his smile, then Steve pecked him back, and they finally kissed, finally biting each other's lips, with a stupid happy look on their faces. 
“So what will we do now?” Whispered Billy, taking Steve’s hand. Steve looked at him with a mischievous smile. 
“Well, my roommate is cool, you can come in my room later,” he grinned, and Billy laughed again. “But meanwhile, those little schemers don’t deserve satisfaction”.
Billy nodded. “Agree. Let’s make them suffer a little more. But first, kiss me again”.
Steve laughed, and threw his arms around him, bursting in happiness.
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blinddreams24 · 1 year ago
Text
Plankton
A Mermay Prompt
Masterlist
Prev / Next
“Hunting lessons!” Killer added the dramatic flare of jazz hands.
You stared at him. “Hunting lessons?”
“Obviously.” He grinned and gestured at you. “You’re so skinny, you look like a pipefish.” “Hey-!” “So! I’m gonna teach you! We’ll start with the easy stuff since you’re inexperienced. Plankton are easy enough. Here.”
Killer spent the next hour teaching you how to catch plankton and other easy larger fish. After you started to get the hang of it, Killer proposed an idea.
“How about this, y/n? I’m gonna go that way, you go the other way, we’ll catch as much as we can and meet back up here. Just each of us hunting alone. Whoever catches the most fish wins!”
You eyed him suspiciously. “And what does the winner get?”
Killer’s grin widened. “A favor~. Whoever wins gets to ask a favor of the other. No questions asked.”
It was a trap. You knew it was a trap. But you really didn’t want to back down from a challenge. Besides, you were faster than Killer. Maybe that could give you just enough of an advantage to make it fair.
You shrugged. “Why not? Go on three?”
“Go!” Killer shot away from you.
“Hey!” You quickly turned the other way and sped to catch as many fish as you could. Cheater. You should have known he’d pull something like that. He was always trying your patience with stuff like that. Scratch that, he was trying everyone’s patience.
He was right about plankton being easier to catch, though you didn’t think the tiny organisms would count so you just ate them.
You’d barely caught your first fish when you felt something shift in the water behind you. Was Killer back already or did he just want to mess with you? Make you lose focus.
“If you want to win, you should go back to hunting.” You commented over your shoulder.
There was a pause.
“I’m sorry. I don’t believe that was meant for me.” Sung a new voice.
You spun sharply around. Your eyes landed on the most beautiful siren you’d ever seen.(don’t tell the boys) A golden crown on his head shimmered with a light that was rivaled by his friendly smile. His lower half hovered gently with two translucent fins as his tail curled gently under him, not quite touching the floor.
A seahorse siren.
“I don’t believe we have met.” He politely crossed his hands in front of him and tipped his head. He was surprisingly almost twice your length. “I am Dream. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh! Uh, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you too, Dream.” You tipped your head as well. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”
“I am on a mission to find my brother. He… He is in a bit of trouble and I wish to get him out. But first I must find him.” Dream glanced around, concern written on his face.
Another seahorse siren? You hadn’t seen anyone that looked like Dream. You gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen anyone.”
Dream nodded and gave you a sad smile back. “I should hope not.”
That wasn’t freaky at all.
“Ooookay?” You drifted carefully away, looking around for Killer. Where was that obnoxious skeleton when you needed him?
“Oh, I’m sorry, y/n!” Dream gasped, his eyes wide. “I did not mean to startle you! He is just very dangerous and I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Are you a new siren?”
You hesitated but answered honestly. “…Yes. Why?”
“When you get as old as me, it’s easy to see when someone is unsteady on their fins. Are you in good company?” His tone grew concerned as he became serious. Like he was hinting at something dark.
“I’d say so. I was welcomed into the pod after they helped me convert so I’m not alone.”
Dream sighed with relief. “So it was conversion by consent. Good. That’s good. How are you adapting?”
That was a lot of questions that felt very close to personal information. You grew defensive. “Why do you need to know?” You accused.
“I just want to make sure you are doing well. It is very difficult for others to adapt to the water. If you are uncomfortable, I’d like to fix that.” He gave you a patient smile. Dream was offering you a different home.
“Well, thank you, sir. But my pod has been very nice to me. I will be staying with them.” You turned back towards your food. Right. There was a race going on and you were getting distracted.
“Wonderful.” Dream’s smile was in his voice. “Would you like any help hunting?”
Oh.
Oh, that was a great idea.
You gave the beautiful siren a smile. “Sure! I’m already behind and could use the help.”
The two of you collected enough fish for two Horrors, chatting all the while. You spoke of your life before the sea. He spoke of his interactions with people on the land. Jokes were traded as were laughs.
Dream followed you back to the place Killer said to meet.
“It was wonderful getting to know you, y/n.” Dream smiled happily, placing the fish in a pile with yours.
“You too. Thank you for helping me hunt. I don’t think I could have caught this many without you.” You admitted.
He laughed. “It was no problem. I’ve helped a siren before. He also was new to the sea but he wasn’t converted like you. He accidentally escaped captivity and was lost when me and Ink found him. We had to raise him like a guppy. I think you would have liked to meet him. His name was Cross.”
“Oh! You know Cro-?”
“DREAM!!!”
Dream’s expression went from fond to furious in a second as he spun towards the voice, magic pooling into his hands. Killer tackled him before the magic could form.
“You crazy! Suicidal! Shark!” Dream snapped, fighting Killer’s teeth away from his face. Dream was shockingly stronger than Killer but Killer was fast.
“Killer! Stop!” You yelled at the chaos. “It’s fine! He’s a friend!”
Killer growled and shoved Dream away. “That is no friend, y/n! Don’t trust him!”
With the added space, Dream’s magic formed into a bow with a glowing harpoon aimed at Killer. Dream growled back at the shark. “Don’t. Move. Killer.” Killer glared at the bow, his soul twitching in front of his chest. If you hadn’t spent so much time with him, you wouldn’t have realized that Killer was scared. Dream’s eyes shot to you. “Y/n. Get out of here and find your pod. I will take care of this feral siren.” Killer snarled.
You snapped. “You leave him alone, Dream! What is wrong with you two??”
Dream looked shocked so Killer answered. “Y/n. Dream attacked Boss first. We’ve fought before. He only ever hunts Nightmare through the oceans.”
“I did not attack first!” Dream said, snapping out of his confusion. “Your ‘Boss’ murdered thousands of people!”
“And you haven’t?” Killer parried.
“Of course I haven’t!!!!!” The seahorse looked and sounded insulted.
“Dream? What are you doing all the way out…? Oh.”
Everyone looked to see a third skeleton siren. This siren was colorful with a purple question mark for one eyelight and a blue octagon in the other. He glanced between the two aggressive sirens when his eyes caught on you. He blinked and suddenly his eyelights switched to a blue star and a yellow exclamation mark.
“Oh! Hello! You’re new!” The new siren chirped. He came closer to you and you saw that his lower half was a dull grey squid. A very big, striped squid.
“Ink! Get them out of here!” Dream commanded.
All hell broke loose.
Killer attacked Dream, Dream’s harpoon hit Killer’s shoulder, and a grey tentacle wrapped around your waist. You yelped as Ink sped away with you in tow.
“Killer!!!” You called out.
Killer looked up from his frenzy, white eyelights visible in terrified concern. “Y/n!!!”
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seekers-who-are-lovers · 3 months ago
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His Return
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Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial using the prompt #FFF297 - like a weed. It is a continuation, sort of, last week’s submission. Thank you for this prompt. I get to squeeze my brain of possible ideas. Anyway, this is a sequel no one is waiting for. 😈. This is an alternative universe. No spoilers herein.
Fandom: Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master
Characters: Himemiya, Nazukihiko, Masuho-no-Susuki, Yukiya
Word count: 1064
Himemiya and Nazukihiko
“Yukiya’s a great man, Hime!”
The young woman beamed at her father, of a job well done.
“Of course, Father, though I am not sure if having him as my boyfriend will make you happy.” The friendly smile was replaced by something sinister. “But through this way, you can keep him in check, to keep him connected with our family, to you especially. You can never let him go, can you?”
“Hime, I don’t know what you are talking about.” Nazukihiko furrowed his brows. This only child of his hadn’t failed to give him a headache ever since she was born. A true spoiled brat that was pampered by her mother, the Lady Hamayū, and her godmother, Lady Masuho no Susuki, Hime was a pretty little thing whose world seemed to revolve around her. The first time Nazukihiko saw her after she was born, she took his breath away. She was his carbon copy, thus raising her wasn’t easy. Hard-headed and independent, she was eager to leave the nest only to return and be reminded of her own failures, which she solved with drugs, alcohol and bad company.
It made the situation worse after his separation from his wife a few years ago. He rarely saw his daughter. If he did, tensions escalated. Pain that was left unsaid started to brew and exposed the wounds from this misunderstanding.
“But I know you do, Father. It is all right. We can share him.” She squeezed his left shoulder and grinned. “Well, I have to go. Yukiya is waiting outside.” She waved her hand to say farewell and hurriedly left his office.
Hearing his daughter’s receding footsteps, he cursed the day she and Yukiya met each other for the first time. No, he cursed his return.
Hime met Yukiya on the day Nazukihiko threw a party to celebrate the three Michelin stars. À la maison was jam-packed, filled to the brim as they say, of well-wishers and Nazukihiko’s crew.
Returning from the school she barely visited, she noticed a youthful-llooking man who never left her father’s side. He drank his wine occasionally. He stood there looking from left to right anticipating potential troublemaker who would steal her father’s limelight. They were having a private conversation when there were no guests to congratulate her father. It stopped her from coming closer to them.
“Look here, Mr. Mystery Man…” Desperate to catch his attention, she licked her lips and twirled her long black hair until an older woman with ginger mane broke her reverie.
“A penny for your thoughts, my dearest niece?”
“Aunt Masuho, who’s that guy next to my father? Did my father employ a dashing bodyguard? When did he have one after Uncle Sumio left him years ago?”
The joy on her face faded as soon as she realised Hime’s object of desire.
“That’s lieutenant general Yukiya Kitayama. An old friend of your father’s. He sticks with him like a weed, for better or for worse, mainly for the worse.” She drank her wine too fast that triggered the coughing.
She began to massage Masuho’s back. A few people glanced at their way that made Hime giggle.
“Stop! We are making a scene.”
The way Masuho spoke about him agitated her so much. “What did he do to you, Aunty? He looks so cute.”
“Ugh, not you too.” She mock-slapped her forehead.
“What? Why? Who else? Hey, now, you must tell me everything you know about him.” Hime’s eyes went wide open highlighting the purple sheen of her irises.
“No need. He’s coming here,” Masuho swallowed the rest of her wine and was about to leave when she heard someone call her name.
“I was wondering if it was the Lady Masuho who kept on looking at me. It turned out it was really you. How are you? How’s Sumio-san?”
“Yukiya… Have I changed so much? Sumio is doing fine.”
“No you haven’t. You are still one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever encountered in my life.”
They greeted each other with their kisses not reaching the other’s cheeks.
“I haven’t seen you in a long while.” Is there sadness in his eyes?
“I was sent to Okinawa for my first assignment then I had a stint somewhere in Africa and Palestine. I just came back from Osaka,” Yukiya explained. “But I heard that Nazukihiko’s restaurant just earned his three stars, and I couldn’t resist taking a vacation and see him to congratulate him in person.”
“That’s my father…” Himemiya said. Was she so uninteresting that this Yukiya refused to look at her?
“I know. The resemblance is uncanny. From your height to the cut of your face. It is Nazukihiko 20 years ago.” He said matter-of-factly. He hardly paid her attention and resumed talking at once to Masuho.
He treats me like I don’t exist.
“I am Hime, if you want to know.”
Yukiya took her hand and shook it. Shortly after that he said his goodbyes and left the two women and went back to Nazukihiko’s side.
“Auntie Masuho, what’s up with that guy? And what is his relationship with my dad? He doesn’t leave his side.”
She saw him hold her father’s arm, lingered there and whispered something at his ear. It was so intimate that it crushed her heart. Yukiya smiled. Nazukihiko laughed and waved at his daughter gesturing her to come to him.
“Maybe it is too late to say this, but for your sake, don’t involve yourself with Yukiya.”
“Huh?”
“He’s the thorn between your parents. He’s the reason your mother isn’t happy at all. Now, go to Nazukihiko.”
When Hime’s father formally introduced them, Yukiya’s behaviour was more different. He was friendlier and more accommodating as if the man she met a while ago was another person. It disturbed Hime but it also intrigued her.
What are the adults hiding?
It was the beginning of her own fascination with Yukiya. She found out that he didn’t have romantic relations at the moment. He was presently staying at his grandparents’ mansion in Tokyo. Following the footsteps of his male relatives who held several important positions in the military, he was slowly making a name for himself.
An idea came into her head: she would court him to death. After all, what Hime wants, Hime gets. The sooner the better.
~tbc~
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Your Friendly Neighbourhood Cryptid
Roman is determined to prove that his friend Patton's fears of a spider cryptid in the forest was unfounded, so joined by his best friend (and maybe crush) Janus, he ventures into the forest at night. Surprisingly, the night takes a surprising twist.
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| Ao3 |
Warnings: Spider imagery, slightly creepy, and one slightly suggestive comment right at the end but nothing like, bad.
Pairings: Anaroceit
Word Count: 1336
Notes:
Hello everyone!!
This is a very short little fic for day 2 of @anaroceitweek!! This is for the prompt 'Conspiricy' which makes me think of Cryptids haha, and Cryptid Virgil is very very fun :3
This is a very silly short fic I wrote in one sitting haha - I still really like it though! I hope you do too :3
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“Why are we out here again?” Janus drawled as he pushed back a tree branch with his gloved hand, climbing over a root in the dark. Roman shone his flashlight down so that they could see where they were walking. The forest behind the suburbs where Roman lived was fairly thick and mostly unmanaged, so there weren’t any proper paths to follow.
“You’re the one who chose to come out here with me,” Roman huffed as he climbed down a little ridge, “You didn’t have to be here.”
“Oh certainly not, but seeing your face when Patton is proven right will be worth it I’m sure,” He said with a shrug and a grin as Roman shot a glare behind him at his best friend/maybe crush. It was hard for Roman to see in the darkness, so he wasn’t entirely sure exactly where Janus was, but he was sure that he’d seen the glare. 
“Well you’ve wasted your time, then, because I’m right,” He said, hopping onto a boulder and then hopping to another one, “There are no weird creepy horrifying spider cryptids out here in this forest.”
“Careful,” Janus said, making Roman stop just before he walked face first into a giant spider web. 
“Oh haha,” Roman said, turning so he could walk around the other side of the tree the web was attached to, “Next you’ll be telling me the spider creature made that.”
“Mhm,” Janus nodded, grinning a little as Roman frowned.
Well… there were certainly a lot of webs in this forest, Roman had never actually come this deep before. He was determined, however, to prove to his friend Patton that there were no scary spider creatures in the forest out to get him. For some reason Janus, who seemed to believe Patton’s theories for whatever reason despite how unfounded they were, had come along as well. 
Roman heard something that sounded like a distant clicking and a woosh, as though something had run past. Turning to look in the direction of the sound, however, gained him nothing, even as he swept his flashlight around the clearing they were in. Other than the number of spiderwebs present, he saw nothing, and dismissed it as some kind of woodland creature, maybe a possum, those were creepy as hell. 
“I wonder what that was,” Janus said, in a tone that Roman thought sounded incredibly condescending and honestly that was just unnecessary. 
Roman shrugged anyway, though, “Probably just a regular, normal forest creature.”
“Mmmhm, if you say so,” Janus shrugged. The clicking sound was back, followed by a soft rumble and another few clicks, Roman whipped around, trying to figure out the source of the sound. 
After a long moment of silence, Roman yelped and reeled back a little as his eyes met another pair in the underbrush - a pair with piercing white pupils and softly glowing purple irises - plus black sclera, as if that wasn’t creepy enough already. 
“What the fuck…” Roman whispered as he noticed a second, third and fourth pair of the same eyes open, he took a step back and ended up grabbing onto Janus’ arm.
“Hello there,” Janus said, only then did Roman realise he was smirking, “You can come out, he won’t hurt you.”
Roman’s eyes widened as he looked from Janus to the eyes. He wouldn’t hurt it?? He was slightly more worried about the other way around, actually. 
In a way that was almost shy, the creature stepped into Roman’s torch beam, making him gasp. 
He was humanoid and tall - taller than both Janus and Roman by a long way. Roman thought he must be at least seven foot tall - he had to have been crouching before. 
His hair was pitch black, but the texture looked to be curled, almost frizzy. In the light of the torch Roman could see that his skin was mostly a light, pastel purple, through which darker veins could be seen, making his skin look almost like marble, though down his arms his skin got darker and darker - until at his fingertips it was pitch black. His limbs too were oddly proportioned, in a way that looked just ‘off’ to Roman, he looked like a person, he was shaped like a person, but his arms and legs were too long and it gave Roman an odd uncanny feeling as he looked at him. Mostly, though, he was just…. Incredibly intrigued. 
“Woah,” Roman said softly, staring wide eyed, “You’re uh… real?”
“Last I checked?” He said, seeming… weirdly nervous as all eight of his eyes blinked. Roman thought he should have probably found it creepy, the cryptid - because that’s the only thing that it could have been (Roman might have been wrong, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud).
“You’re… beautiful,” He said, to the surprise of basically everyone there as he slowly detached from Janus to approach. The spider guy looked shocked as Roman walked up, circling him before stopping to look up at him, “Wow…” He said softly.
“Wh-what?” the creature said, turning his head to track Roman but not fully turning around. Janus was smirking in the background, “Hey - you cut it out, stop smirking at me.”
“I told you he’d like you,” Janus said, sounding very smug. Roman looked back at him. 
“You were in on this?” He asked, glaring at him, “You knew?”
Shrugging, Janus walked over, placing a hand on the spider’s arm, “Well I’d hope so, considering we’re dating.”
“You what??”
“Are you gonna be surprised by everything?” The spider guy asked, tilting his head.
“Well- I- yeah, actually, I am!” He said, eyes wide, the cryptid startled a little bit, “I just found out the spider cryptid in the woods is real and apparently dating my best friend!”
“And beautiful, don’t forget that,” Janus hummed, Roman went bright pink.
“I- Oh my god, I’m sorry-” He said, looking between Janus and the thing, “I didn’t mean to hit on your cryptid boyfriend.”
With a snort, Janus shook his head, even the spider was smiling.
“It’s fine,” He said, “And I’m Virgil, by the way - um, if you really want to hit on me you can.”
“What.”
“I mean, I’m just saying, I don’t mind,” He defended, “I mean - it’s fine if not, I know you humans are weird about monogamy sometimes, but-”
“No no no - that’s not the problem,” Roman said, raising his hands, he was perfectly happy with polyamory, he’d experimented with it before in a relationship and found it appealed to him (though the lack of communication in that particular relationship had put him off a while)
“I’m okay with it too,” Janus said, “If that’s the problem, you are… fine.”
“That’s Janus talk for ‘I like you’,” Virgil translated, making both Janus and Roman turn beet red. 
“So, wait,” Roman said, putting up his hands, “Let me figure this out.”
Both of them nodded. 
“So you,” He gestured to Virgil, “Are a spider cryptid who lives out here in the woods?”
“Mhm,”
“And you,” He gestures to Janus, “Are dating him?”
“Yes,” Janus nodded.
“So…. was this whale thing just a ploy to get me out here?”
“Potentially,” Janus smirked, Roman groaned, “Well - Patton’s fears are very real, of course, and him asking you for help was simply convenient, so I talked to Virgil about it - because normally you wouldn’t have found anything.”
“He told me he had a really cute friend he thought I’d like who was coming out ‘cryptid hunting’ in the forest tonight so I agreed to actually show up.”
“And?” Roman asked.
“And…?”
“And… do you like me?” Roman asked, leaning forward a little, Virgil smirked.
“Yeah,” He said with a shrug, “I believe so, do… you like me? Janus said you would.”
Smirking, Roman nodded, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do - but uh… I’ve never dated a cryptid before…”
“Oh trust me, it’s a lot of fun,” Janus grinned, making Virgil blush a deeper, richer purple colour. Roman giggled.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 ( if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)
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genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 years ago
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(GFL Short Fic) "A Scarecrow's emotions"
Alternative Title: WHAT IS LOVE? BABY DON'T HURT ME, DON'T HURT ME, NO MORE!
Author's Note: This was originally in a different prompt before I had a moment of realization and went "Wait a second this is WAAAY too long to just be in a headcanon!" So now it's here, and I hope ya'll enjoy! Word Count: 1.5k
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To say Scarecrow struggled understanding the emotions of others was a colossal understatement.
Before she began working under the Commander and Griffin, she despised sentimentality. Thanks to the Protocol Assimilation however, her hatred of emotions lessened.
This did not help her understand it any better unfortunately, something she continued to struggle with.
It especially didn't help that her only other encounters with emotions was with the Commander (which was fairly recent), and Executioner, who was a loudmouth tomboy of a T-Doll.
And lastly, one human who expressed interest in her, to her complete shock.
Being from Sangvis, she and her comrades were understandably treated coldly at first from Griffin personnel, barring some of the extremely friendly ones.
Scarecrow was quite used to this, considering she barely had any respect from her allies to begin with.
And given that her entire role was scouting and data gathering, she had no need for emotions, or friends.
When Scarecrow had met (Y/N) for the first time, she was honestly annoyed and quite suspicious of them, given how the rest of the humans wouldn't even give her the time of day. (Not that she exactly needed to ask them for it)
==
Scarecrow walked out of the maintenance bay and into the brightly lit hallways of Griffin's Base, prepared to make her way towards the dorms. Before she could get much further, she was stopped by one of the engineers.
(Y/N) "Scarecrow! Um, how are you feeling?"
She turned towards them, her eyes remaining unchanged as the mask obscured her mouth, showing no visible change in emotion.
(Scarecrow) "I am operational."
Scarecrow replied curtly. She observed their movements and they seemed...relieved?
(Y/N) "Oh, good! I was worried that we may not have gotten your repairs right! I don't think I've ever worked on anyone quite like you before."
(Scarecrow) "Of course. Griffin T-Dolls are far less advanced than Sangvis."
(Y/N) seemed to struggle on how to choose their next words, though it did not seem like her statement was the cause of it.
(Scarecrow) "You are fidgeting an abnormal amount for a human. Are you intimidated by me?"
(Y/N) "...W-Well, kinda, if I'm being honest...!"
They laughed nervously, but it was cut off by Scarecrow's continued deadpan stare at them. They cleared their throat and straightened their back.
(Y/N) "But, really, I was nervous that your repairs might not have gone smoothly. I see I was worrying for nothing."
(Scarecrow) "I see."
She gave them a simple nod with her facial expressions not budging an inch.
(Scarecrow) "I recognize you are simply being polite. It is wasted on me, nevertheless I will say 'Thank you'."
(Y/N) "If something's wrong with your systems, don't hesitate to come see me!"
(Scarecrow) "Acknowledged."
Finally she began departing for her dorm, processing the conversation she just had. That was the first time anyone was worried about her wellbeing.
==
Besides the Commander, (Y/N) had become someone she visited often, though it was mostly because she wanted peace and quiet and did not want anyone to disturb her thinking.
They treated her with respect, despite the fact she was a former adversary.
The fact they were so open to trust a Sangvis Doll was stupid. Humans made no logical sense to her. And yet...something drew her to them, and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn't determine why.
This was the first time that she had interacted with humans and did not want to immediately end their lives, so the change in perspective was unnerving to her. It felt like it went against her base programming.
But she did not hate the feeling. At least, it did not feel that way.
Anytime she spoke with (Y/N), she always had her mask on them, more out of habit since that was her uniform than anything malicious.
And she knew they were always staring at it, and her eyes when they replied. She didn't know why, until a few months into their 'friendship, for lack of a better term, did she know why.
==
(Y/N) "Hey, Scarecrow?"
(Scarecrow) "What is it?"
Scarecrow replied, her tone muffled and cold as ever.
(Y/N) "If it's not too rude for me to request this, could...I see you without your mask?"
She turned to them, curiosity rising in her digimind, though her face did not portray it.
(Scarecrow) "Why? I do not possess any facial features that can recreate emotion like you can."
(Y/N) "That part doesn't really bother me. I just...want to see you, if that makes any sense."
(Scarecrow) "It does not."
(Y/N) began stuttering, trying to find a better way to phrase what they meant before noticing her irises were changing ever so slightly. They seemed to focus on their face, her hands slowly reaching for the mask and disengaging the locks.
Her lips were surprisingly soft looking, and not as rough or machine-like as (Y/N) was expecting.
(Scarecrow) "However, I will comply with your request."
Her voice was finally unfiltered from her mask, the voice sounding quite soothing to their ears.
(Y/N) "W-Wow..."
(Scarecrow) "What is so fascinating about my lips? You have seen them on other T-Dolls and humans."
(Y/N) "It's not that, it's...you're really pretty is all."
Scarecrow's eyes adjusted once again, though to what emotion it was portraying, (Y/N) couldn't tell. She looked away, staring at the ground.
(Scarecrow) "Are humans that susceptible to be allured by a simple face?"
Scarecrow noticed that they had gotten closer, though she made no move to push them away.
(Y/N) "Maybe? For me I'm...more allured by you than anything."
Scarecrow turned to face them again, her face unmoved by (Y/N)'s words.
(Y/N) "S-Sorry. That must sound stupid."
(Scarecrow) "It is. You are attracted to an android that cannot even reciprocate its feelings on the most basic level."
(Y/N) "...Reciprocate?"
(Y/N)'s shoulders slumped and looked at her, noticing that Scarecrow was staring at her hand moving to theirs. The hand wrapped around theirs, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
(Y/N) froze, and realizing that, Scarecrow moved back to her normal sitting position. She must have mistaken their shock as disgust.
(Scarecrow) "I will depa-"
(Y/N) "Wait!"
(Y/N) took Scarecrow's hands again, holding onto it tightly and not wanting her to leave. Slowly, she looked back at (Y/N)'s face as it closed in.
Their eyes were closed as they leaned in for a quick peck onto her lips, scrambling everything in Scarecrow's digimind.
Her eyes rapidly adjusted themselves as she was trying to process what exactly she was feeling. The sensation of (Y/N)'s lips, their emotions, her own, everything was so overwhelming.
Scarecrow remained still for a couple seconds before looking back up to (Y/N).
(Scarecrow) "...I still do not understand why you feel such attraction for a mere T-Doll-"
(Y/N) "Y-You're not just 'some' T-Doll, Scarecrow! You're just...you."
(Scarecrow) "You have said that twice now, as if I can understand what you mean."
(Y/N) "It means that there's only one of you, Scarecrow. And...!-"
(Y/N) took a deep breath to calm down, trying to defend her existence against herself was riling them up far more than they had anticipated.
(Scarecrow) "I should be exactly what my name implies. Nothing more, and nothing less."
Her reply finally got (Y/N) to steady their breathing, their lips slowly growing into a smile.
(Y/N) "If that's the case, you wouldn't be holding my hand right now. That's an emotion, you know, and I've seen you show it!...W-Well, not directly, anyway."
(Scarecrow) "...I am unable to comprehend your logic, nor can I fully process what information has been given to me."
Scarecrow's grip on (Y/N)'s hand subtly got tighter as her eyes refocused solely on theirs. Their mouth did not tremble, nor did her tone even remotely change, yet (Y/N) could tell there was a sense of hesitation.
(Scarecrow) "...I request that you assist me in understanding emotions, and your faulty logic in putting this kind of faith in me."
(Y/N)'s smile grew even bigger as they leaned into Scarecrow, embracing her gently. At first she did not move, but moved to mimic their actions by raising her arms around their back.
It felt quite awkward, but it was the gesture that mattered to (Y/N). And they hoped that she would understand that.
(Scarecrow) "If I'm careless with my words, I could end up hurting others. So I just need to be a scarecrow – I serve in silence…"
(Y/N) slowly backed off and held her shoulders, her eyes blinking for the first time at them.
(Scarecrow) "But I won't be like that with you, because no matter how I hurt you, you'll always stay close to me, won't you?"
(Y/N) "…As long as you want me, I'll be here with you."
They stayed like that for a few brief moments before Scarecrow stood up without warning, confusing (Y/N). She put on her mask and simply stared back.
(Scarecrow) "Humph, just kidding."
(Y/N) "...W...What...?"
Scarecrow leaned towards (Y/N)'s head, her mask gently bouncing off their forehead. Was that supposed to be her version of a kiss?
(Scarecrow) "That was also a joke. I genuinely meant what I asked, I simply wanted to see your reaction since you can tell when I'm portraying emotions indirectly, apparently."
(Y/N) pouted and muttered something underneath their breath. They swore Scarecrow's eyes slightly raised in amusement.
(Y/N) "Way to ruin a romantic moment..."
Scarecrow offered her hand to (Y/N), her tone unchanged.
(Scarecrow) "Well, it's a good thing you'll be giving more, won't you?"
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