#I just stand around and fetch stuff..

[ask-comet-thecoffeeboy]

Truth M/A: How is it really like to work for Mayor Holiday? I heard she's pretty mean.

What? Mean?

W-Well, sure she can be a bit strict but it's nothing too bad!! She's got a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders I'm sure- she's probably just stressed!

Working with her it's... Well, there's lots to do! We all gotta play our parts to make sure this neighborhood is running smoothly, y'know?

She can seem a bit cold, but she's doing her best!! I don't wanna hear doubts about Mrs. Holiday, have a little more faith in your mayor!!

*He seems to have his own idea of her. Truth M!A: 6 asks left.

[lustlovehart]

Might've sent this already but I saw it in my notes while looking for something, so just ignore if you've already seen it.

Can you imagine the reader getting sick while they're with the monsters? I can imagine Riddle and Cater being utterly helpless trying to get to Trey, Ace or Deuce as soon as they realize it. Oh after getting us the proper care I can imagine Riddle inch his spectral hand close to our forehead to cool even a bit of our fever. I don't know how zombies work that much but I'm all for pathetic boys so I can imagine their limbs coming off while trying to carry us inside if they couldn't find Trey immediately.

Out of Octavinelle boys the only one who'd have much knowledge about humans would be Azul and if he is out to get whatever plants/medicine necessary in his limited human form, tweels would be a disaster let's be honest they don't see sick things in the sea cuz those creatures usually die so quickly from the harsh environment so they are out of their element, their cold skin might help with fever but too much would make it even worse. I can see Floyd trying to squeeze us to make it better but after seeing it made us nauseous he just stops. Jade is trying to remember his land facts with a serious face all the while.

Sickness Kills, Sickness no more

Another adorable idea!! I really don’t know what else to add on it as I could really see what you said about how they react!!! (≧◡≦) ♡. If it’s a simple cold, i’m sure you could just tough it out and they would never notice. Buut, if it’s genuinely something detrimental to your health, they begin to notice and panic. I thought this was cute and wrote something up! I really wanted to write Chenya in this post, but after those few Chenya asks in the past, current;t struggling on what to make him😭 Will it be kitsune or nekomata, a struggle indeed 😞

CW: (Heavy) Obsession, Jealousy, Rook is being a weirdo, Reader Has a high fever, They want to turn you into a monster too, They change your clothes for you, Implied/Wanting Murder and Actual murder (Fellow, Neige and Skully)

Featuring: Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw (Jack mentioned), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Idia, Diasmonia, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige

Heartslaybul might be the best location to fall ill actually! As all of them are formerly human, unlike the others. But… that just aids them in their guilt so it might have backfired for them. Riddles' experience as a Doctor has him feeling the most responsible for your well-being. How utterly careless… he let you get sick. What would his mother think of him? What will you think of him?

Ace and Deuce are practically rushing around to grab whatever Riddle orders for your health. When they find themself not fetching stuff and standing by your side, Ace is cursing you to stay alive, even without magic, he’ll find a way. Deuce is placing his forehead on yours, hoping his cool (dead) skin will calm down that fever. When your warmth reminds him of his failures, all he can do is sit by your side and hope you’ll say anything to him.

Trey stands next to you, being the one who moniters your body temperature when Riddle is incapable of taking human form. He’ll be silent attempting to calm everyone down, but he can’t be very useful in that regard when the bolts in his neck trickle electricity every now and then (he has shocked everyone else from stress) or even when his limbs fall out of place fromte pressure, though not nearly enough as Deuce’s; they continue to detach and crawl over to you, their own mind having them pat your head or hold your hand.

Cater… Is very scarce in this case. As you heave in your hot and cold body, you think he doesn’t care very much, which you don’t mind, everyone else is much too worried. Little do you know Cater was given the special mission of collecting life force if you end up falling to this disease. He’s determined to do just that. They’ll have everything prepared for your new afterlife. When he comes back, you can only quirk a brow at the smile he has on his false face.

It was only a backup plan… But your laugh, the way the sun hits you reminds them you’re just a frail human. Perhaps… It’d be better if you’d never have to suffer in that mortal body. Stay forever in the shadows of this hospital.

Savanaclaw is only a third qualified, as Ruggie has never been human, and Leona was cared for by other people whenever he was ill. Their biggest problem when you fall sick is they don’t really have the proper knowledge nor materials to deal with it, unlike Heartslaybul who consists of all humans, and quite literally reside in a hospital.

When your heaves grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment, Leona rests you on his tomb (if you were conscious you would’ve freaked out at him, but luckily, you’re not), taking whatever water they can salvage from Savanaclaw, they try their best to cool your fever down. The pale wraps Leona already has on your body increase in quantity, acting as makeshift blankets while he brushes your fevered face.

Meanwhile Ruggie is the one who makes mad dashes around people houses, stealing whatever possible fix there is for illnesses. When Leona is busy cooling you down within whatever his power gives, Ruggie takes his place by your side tending to your every need, albeit with confusion.

If even for a moment you cough a little too hard, or even breath too rough, their backup plan in case all fails comes closer. Though, this backup plan would be their first, if it wasn’t for a certain—hunter… Telling them you’d hate them for all time. But even then, what’s affection if a little hate isn’t there? In truth, they wouldn't mind if you despised them, as long as you’re safe.

Then again, the act of them taking the vitality of innocents for your survival, would no doubt put guilt in your heart.

When you get better, all they can think about when they look at you is how they won’t be there when you really need assistance… What better way than to leave you in this tomb with a mummy?? After all, those bandages are the only sliver of protection you have from being killed so easily… Perhaps they should ask him, how to make you stay for eternity.

Octavinelle is the exact opposite of Heartslaybul it’s actually kinda funny. (Not to them, oh goodness how do they help fevers?!?). You being sick is one of the few times Jade’s so serious, the lack of double-sided compliments scaring you more than your fever. While Floyd is desperately squeezing the cold from his body into your skin, Jade comes from behind and holds your face in his hands, cooling it down from the oceans temperature. Neither attempt works, but they don’t stop.

Azul is urgently collecting every form of marine medicinal herb there is in the sea, even going true form and grabbing ingredients the size of ships. He’ll even do the wretched ‘running’ on land if it means getting you what you need. Magic can only take him so far, those human books he read didn’t need to tell him, he already knows as much.

When Azul comes back he hurriedly tells them to lay you down for treatment, having the two diligently perform every task he asks them. Jade isn’t cracking back-handed jokes and Floyd is entirely focused and still, only time to time fidgeting as he waits. If you weren’t so dazed you’d question if they were really the sea monsters you know.

The sounds of splashing water, the feeling of hands, tentacles, and tails all simultaneously work on ridding that fever. Somehow, it lulls you to sleep.

Your body remains floating in the water as all of them have you wrapped up in their limbs. When you come to, you realize they must’ve stolen someone’s clothes as a new pair are on you, as your new wardrobe is no longer soaked in sea water. You didn’t notice at first, but as soon as you woke up, their eyes were staring deep into your skin, almost like they’re searing the memory of you well and breathing into their memory.

The longer they look at you, the more they think about you. The dangers on land are so horrible… They never get such scenarios like that in sea… that means you must stay where such illnesses can’t reach you.

When you get sick in Scarabia, Kalim will beg you to make a wish, telling you he can make you better if you just ask. It’s one of the few times you genuinely want to make one, but your voice is much too hoarse for it to come through. You open your mouth and any words are too quiet to be commanded, with each syllable replaced with a cough. While Kalim is fretting over your well-being, Jamil is staring from the side, forked tongue hissing everyone once in a while.

This Jamil is capable of being a proper servant towards other monsters, as he knows their makeup… but with you, it’s a bit of a harder case. You don’t eat humans (he thinks), neither do you have tough skin, or enhanced ability, you are a mortal through and through.

Surprisingly, it’s Kalim who pushes through and knows what to do, albeit only slightly. He’ll tell Jamil you need water, and… and…! He can name some of the materials, but sometimes he trails off. It’s been so long since…

Jamil pinches Kalims ear to recenter his attention before slithering over with the needed supplies. He’s dabbing your face with water, taking a cloth and repeatedly dunking it into the liquid. When he takes the rag to dip back into the pitcher, he halts when you weakly grab at his wrist. It’s a weak sight, a vulnerable one, yet it makes his heart race because of how… weak you look. He watches you take his hand and place it on your forehead, eyes fluttering shut as soon as that cold touch hits you.

Right… Cold blooded…

Kalim wraps you in a makeshift blanket to keep your body warm, yet not too warm, while Jamil continues to switch between both hands to keep you cool, his tail wrapped around you. The touch of your skin on his reminds him just how warm you are.

When you finally get over your ailment, Kalim has you wrapped around himself, hugging you tightly as if you’d disappear. While Jamil isn’t nearly as affectionate, every time you walk around the desert the underlying feeling of eyes following you, persists every second… A silent statement of the danger you face all alone, telling you to stay and never harm yourself again.

Pomefiore with another human, except while not as medically skilled as Riddle, much better than everyone else due to his upbringing. Though, this knowledge gets outshone by Vil and Rook, who somehow, do know how illnesses work.

“Rook, do not caress them so… Just feed them the necessary remedies.” Vil sits by your side, ridding your body of the heavy clothes you adorn, until you’re left in much thinner cloth. All while he glares at the way Rook serandes your sweating face. Even in your current state, you can’t help but judge Rooks poor timing of poetry.

“Ah, amour… Even in such a vulnerable condition... I can’t help but believe your glisten is just as beautiful as yesterdays...” you feel his wispy hand stroke your cheek, wiping away your sweat, whispering something under his breath. If you had the energy, your would’ve walked away, but alas, you don’t. You look back at the ceiling, focusing on a single crack in the flawless interior, hoping the beating in your head would leave.

A particularly hard ache in your head as you lift your hands to hit the pain out, but you’re hands are stopped by Vil and Rook taking hold of each of your limbs. Rook whispers a ‘non non’ while Vil continues dabbing cool water on your skin, reprimanding you for such a harmful action.

All this action has you wondering where Epel could be… Come to daytime, the only interval where all of them are essentially harmless unless in the shadows, Epel finally shows himself when they’re both gone. His face isn’t too visible, as the shadows inside the mansion block out all light. You open your mouth to say something, but it’s quickly covered by an apple, teeth grazing the skin. For a moment you hesitate, but your hunters has you crunch into the fruit. You watch him bring the apple to his eyes, examining the marks before smiling.

“They were so worried about the fever, they forgot about food.” he brings the apple to his own lips, fangs piercing the same place you bit, your bites unionized. You’re none the wiser to Vil and Rook in the shadows, realizing, you don’t deserve an illness like this… It’s simple, just like Epel realized, the fragility of human and deciding to rid himself of that… they shall show you the same ephiany.

Ignihydes Underworld isn’t exactly the type you can wander around in… Which is why when Idia sees you resting your fevered head on his shoulder, he panics at the sight flickering in and out of your body. No… You shouldn’t be dying yet���!

And then he comes to the realization, if you died, without any ties to reality, you and him… Would never be alone again. He’s eerily silent as you cough, eyes darting back and forth at the suggestions in his mind. When you lean into him, he stays quiet, draping part of his cloak around your body, both of you trapped in the warmth of the fabric. If you died peacefully, you wouldn't become a ghost and join Heartslaybul… You wouldn't have to worry about the fear of a brutal death and suffering through life, is this not a mercy for you?

He hugs you tighter the more you cough, an ongoing war in his mind. You would never see those guys again… He wouldn’t have to worry about them, or you preferring their company over his—

“Idia…” your voice is horarse as shivers peak through your speech, “Please…”

Are you asking to die? Are you asking for him to be the one who guides your soul? Are you… wanting to be with him? He’s already preparing a scythe in hand, but when you flip your head up to look him in the eyes, he stops all motion.

“I don’t want to…” … You don’t have to finish for him to know. He knows when a person is desperate to live, and you’re one of them. No matter how much envy consumes him when you’re with those fiends, he won’t take your life, not until you truly wish to pass on.

But, that doesn’t mean the vermin around you are spared from his dark occupation. If anything, Idia will see to it they’re sent to the next life sooner than intended.

Diasmonia is an interesting case… They all do care for your current state, and your health of course, yet there’s a lack of urgency somehow… They cater to your sickness yet do it as if they’re only fawning over you rather than saving your life.

Malleus will take a humanoid form, holding your hands as he hums a tune, retelling tales you’ve told him. Occasionally, he will place his palm on your forehead, humming when he sees it’s just as it was when he last checked. There’s no point in asking what he’s doing, he’ll only smile with a tilt of his head before returning to stone, an ominous ‘Don’t fear, you’ll feel better soon enough.’ If you let him walk out, the cycle will repeat a few hours later, furthering your worries. If you grab onto eroding stone, though, he’ll turn back and hear your whispers, not real words but vespers of some. He’ll take his other rough-edged palm, pulling your hands to his lips. For a moment, you see regret in his eyes, but it doesn’t seem to last long when he says ‘it’ll be over soon.’

Lilia feeds you his food, one that’s… particularly not consumable for humans or monsters, yet he beams as if you’ll accept it. You somehow escape from the quick end you would’ve met had you eaten it, Lilia telling you it’s better to get accustomed to their food if you’re going to stay with them… You remind him you’ll be leaving soon enough, and he laughs… you don’t know why.

Sebek… Is very confusing in his behaviors. One moment he’s asking you ways to slightly ease the pain if he spots you wincing, next he’s flinching like he suddenly remembered something and telling you to stay sick for the monster's well-being. It’s conflicting, especially in your current state, everything only seems dizzying. When you wake up from your rest, you don’t feel any better, but there’s a single flower laid on your chest. It’s not much, but the sweet scent helps you forget your headache for a little.

Silver is the only one who remotely seems worried about your human form withering away. When the others are gone he’s next to you actually performing duties to rid your fever, quickly hiding the materials whenever he senses their arrival. He’ll shush you when everything becomes too much, whispering for you to sleep; he’ll rid you of any bad dreams you could encounter, you’ll only dream of your desires. So please, sleep. You never expected such behavior from the other three at all… Until it dawns on you when they overhear their words.

“Yes, the others only seem to ponder the idea, never act on it.” You hold back a cough while you lean against the wall, listening intently to whatever Malleus tells the other. “I wish to care for them until they’re much too weak to walk anymore.” He doesn’t mean… “And then we’ll do what all of them are much to meek to do.” You feel your body crumple under your weight, built arms scooping you up.

Silver… There’s a sorrowed look in his eyes as he looks at you, mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath.

“… When they’re not human, they’ll never wish to leave this castle again.”

In the following days they continue to act like it’s your last day in the living, like your fate is predetermined. Malleus and Lilia lavish you in affection, while Sebek instructs you on ways of the dark as if you’re marrying to his family, albeit with a very distancing tone.

Every time they appear and go, you cling to Silver like your last life line, your grip is weak yet the look in your eyes acts like a command to him, insisting he better you.

And fortunately for you, you’re cured. Unfortunately for them, you’re cured.

Sages Quarter

- Rollo goes about the fever like any other one you’ve had, simply because everytime you have had one, it’s him who diligently sits by your side and aids you. (nevermind Jack… And Neige… He’s your main, he thinks, he hopes.) He’ll calmly talk you through the fever as he dabs your forehead, changes your wear, and feeds you in bed. It’s nothing he's never done before. But that’s only if the fever is normal; if it’s the high type, his demeanor take a shift and he looks much deadlier than he did before, his eye bags only increasing in depth.

“Do not move, you will strain yourself.” He watches you open your mouth, the glint in your eyes the kind you make when you’re about to throw a joke at him. Your pretty voice doesn't come out to his disappointment, only a whisper. The occurrence has him panicking, chastising you for silently laughing at your failed retort. “Is it really that funny that you can’t even talk?” he watches you mouth words, placing his hand on your lips, halting anymore movement.

You must be delirious from the fever, as you don’t protest but rather, smile at him. His chest tightens but he’s not sure from what emotion.

For a moment, your eyes go blank, and he’s swift to remove his palm, leaning into you with urgency. It was only for a moment, anyone else would’ve missed it, but not him; he remembers your eyes. He sighs when he sees the light reappear, taking his spot at your side once more.

“Do you take enjoyment in watching me worry?” you don’t have to do much for him to know you’re laughing at him, the look in your pupils tells him all he needs to know. Your hand hesitantly reaches for his cheek, brushing the back of your hand against pale skin. He takes possession of your palm, inhaling before letting the limb go again.

“M… Maybe… I do…” he can tell the effort it took to say just those few words. He watches you close your eyes before taking his handkerchief from his pocket, neatly folding the fabric on your chest.

“You… Truly—I can’t leave you like this…” … A wonderful thought. Maybe he just shouldn’t leave you, ever.

- Skully is quite literally screaming in panic, what exactly is he meant to do?!?! He basically webs you an entire luxury bedroom in your ail, gently coaxing you to lay down on the swindles of web. He smiles at your acceptance, ready to care for you with diligence! But then he remembers, that the entirety of this forest is dead. Any sign of life is quickly caught by him for consumption, any water has disappeared from streams, and plants have been desecrated for so long.

… How is he supposed to help you?!?

He can’t just wait for a wandering traveler to appear! That takes weeks or even months, he can’t wait that long! And even then, he can’t resort to feeding you the human…! It’s barbaric! For you at least... He does it all the time, but that’s because he’s a monster!! He doesn’t do it in front of you… you already seem so disappointed in him when you spy anyone just caught in his webs, the thought of you only looking at him with more fear in those eyes is unbearable—!

“Skully…—” he jumps at the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder, sweat glistening. He panics at the sight, picking you up with four of his arms while the other two set up your bed again.

“Please stay right here dear! I’ll find a way for you—” You pull his head down, close to your face, staring into all his eyes. You huff a single breath into his ear, the word ‘town’ the only audible thing. He knows himself, he stands out way too much to blend into society, so he really shouldn’t… But he can’t stop himself when he lifts you off the bed, a torn blanket he stole wrapped around him like a cloak.

He really shouldn’t… But for you he would break all manner of rules. Even, if he must be ungentlemanly, and leave a trail of webs and red in his wake, he’ll do it all, for you.

- Fellow turns his haunted head, his false joints bending to walk towards you. Thing strings begin to surround you like snakes, not touching, only moving around you.

“Fellow…? What are you…?”

“Shhhh, I thought sick people like you need sleep? My, don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe in my care!” the strings quickly push you towards him, Fellow’s false body and intricately designed clothes sound from the force you bump into him. Your head slowly turns up to look at the puppet, his face only a mere inches away from you. If he was a human, there’s no doubt he would be infected by now.

With each step he takes your hand weakly grabs his neck, the fox-themed marionette humming as the strings behind him follow close behind. You open your mouth to question what exactly he’s doing, but only a cough comes out. For a split second, Fellow looks down at you with pain, remembrance of something, something you don’t know. He’s back to the cunning showman persona just a moment later. With the opening of his fake mouth, words come from him.

“As I said, my valued hunter, I will make sure your visit to my stage…” your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, your last feeling being hard lips placing a chaste kiss on your temple. “You will never feel fear in your life again, dear puppeteer, for the rest of this stage is yours.”

A puppeteer… One that controls the doll on stage… Is that really the case here?

You wake up to the instant feeling of rejuvenation. Just what happened?

The sight of Fellow cleaning his strings bloodied with crimson, tells you It might be better to not know just how you’ve been cured.

- Neige lets you rest your head on his chest as his ivory wings envelop you in a warm embrace, telling you you’ll get better soon, he promises.

It’s not like you can deny his oath, not without a voice. Even then, if you did have one, you don’t think you would’ve anyway, it would be too cruel to tell Neige you don’t trust him to fix you. He’ll lay pristine white covers over you as he flies out the window, a sense of urgency in the angel that he never feels very often unless it’s about the dear human he’s meant for.

When he gets back, he’ll tend to you with tenderness and a gentle touch. Each dab of a towel is soft yet effective, and every spoon of remedy kind as it goes down. He’s certain it’ll work, especially with each blessing he gives you, it must, it has to.

But it doesn’t. You still lay in bed coughing, your speech disappearing with each passing moment. It doesn’t do good for his heart, and he’s not even a human yet it hurts, it hurts seeing you frail like this. But, then his breathing hitches when he realizes a certain feeling swelling inside him.

Wrath. He’s angry that the world won’t let him help you, even more so that the earth feels to do this to you in the first place. He puts on a smile for you as he sits at your bedside, but the way he clenches his fist tells you there’s something else.

“Neige…—”

“It’s okay! I’m going to fulfill my promise, okay?” his eyes sparkle with determination, and all you can do is nod.

The next time he flies over, word of an all-healing elixir reaches his ears, and so, he finds the seller, giving them the kindest of greetings in disguise. He offers up the price everyone spoke of, telling the vendor about your condition. He's hopeful this will work when he gives it—!

“No.” … What? Any other words the seller had to go out one ear and the other, only the way they looked at him seared into his brain. The next moment is a blur for Neige, only the repeated word of ‘Greed’ repeating in his mind.

… When you get better, he folds his wings far away from you, hopeful that you won’t see the black scattered amongst the ivory. Even then, he will commit all manner of sin, even fall from grace, to make sure you stay so heavenly.

A/n: If MH!Reader got a high fever when Crowley is around, you can bet money they’re coughing into a napkin and shoving it in his face to get him sick. If their illness ends up being something really bad, plague? Even better (for them, not everyone else cuz now you have the worst illness ever??? For Crowley too cuz wtf why’d you try giving him the plague?!?)

[amirasainz]

What about Ollie x Russell!Reader. Maybe he has an extreme crush on her and everyone knows this. But Reader is very obvious so she doesn't. Poor Ollie is suffering so much, that even Geroge is helping him

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl ♥️

Schoolboy-crush

Las Vegas was a buzz of neon lights and roaring engines, the thrill of the Las Vegas GP filling the air as fans crowded around, eager for the race. George had been looking forward to this weekend, not just because of the race, but because he’d managed to convince his little sister, Yn, to come along for the first time. George had been telling the other drivers all about Yn, and when she finally arrived, his excitement was clear.

"Yn! Finally!" George called out as she joined the group of drivers. He wrapped an arm around her, grinning from ear to ear as he introduced her to the drivers. "Guys, this is my little sister, Yn."

The drivers greeted her warmly, but no one seemed quite as flustered as Ollie. As soon as Yn walked in, Ollie’s eyes had widened, and he’d barely managed a breath. She was even more beautiful than George had described. He swallowed, his palms a little sweaty as he stepped forward, trying to play it cool.

"Hi, Yn," Ollie stammered, giving her a nervous smile. "I, um, brought these for you." He held out a small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on the way.

Yn's eyes lit up as she took the flowers. "Oh, Ollie! These are beautiful. Thank you!" She smiled brightly, her genuine excitement making Ollie’s heart practically jump out of his chest.

“Y-you’re welcome,” Ollie managed, his cheeks flushed as he struggled to find the right words. “It’s, uh, no problem.”

The other drivers smirked knowingly, exchanging glances. Charles, who was standing nearby, leaned over to Lando and whispered, "Looks like our boy’s smitten, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Lando replied, chuckling as Ollie stumbled over his words.

As the group walked toward the paddock, Ollie seemed determined to be by Yn’s side. He quickly offered to carry her bag, and despite Yn’s polite protests, he insisted, flashing her a shy smile as he slung her bag over his shoulder.

"Really, Ollie, you don’t have to carry my stuff," Yn said, laughing lightly.

"It’s no problem! Really, I—I want to help!" Ollie stammered, his face flushed.

George noticed Ollie’s eagerness and raised an eyebrow. He grinned, leaning in to whisper, "Smooth moves, Bearman.”

Ollie’s face went even redder, but he just nodded, determined. George chuckled, deciding that maybe a little help wouldn’t hurt. He gave Ollie a small nudge forward, encouraging him to talk to her.

As the day went on, Ollie never left Yn’s side. Whether it was fetching her a drink, offering her his jacket when she looked a bit chilly, or helping her navigate the paddock, he was constantly there. And each time she thanked him, he’d turn redder, unable to look her in the eyes for more than a few seconds before mumbling something incoherent.

During lunch, the group sat down, with Ollie and Yn across from each other. Charles noticed Ollie sneaking glances at Yn every few seconds, his face still flushed. Taking pity, Charles decided to give him a little boost.

"So, Yn, did you know Ollie’s quite the genius when it comes to racing strategy?" Charles said, giving Ollie a subtle wink.

Ollie’s eyes widened in panic, and he stammered, "Oh, I—I mean, I’m not that good…"

Yn looked genuinely interested. "Really? That’s amazing! I’d love to hear about it."

Ollie’s mind seemed to short-circuit for a moment, his brain scrambling to think of something intelligent to say. "Uh…well…th-there’s, um, a lot of…strategy…"

The group burst into laughter at his awkwardness, but Yn gave him an encouraging smile, making his heart race even faster.

The afternoon went by in a blur. Ollie continued to be by Yn's side, clearly under her spell. Every time she laughed at his jokes—even the not-so-funny ones—he'd blush like crazy, almost dropping whatever he was holding in the process.

George finally took Ollie aside, patting him on the back with a sympathetic smile. "Listen, Ollie. Just be yourself. She likes you as you are. Trust me."

“R-really?” Ollie asked, eyes wide with hope.

“Yes, mate,” George chuckled. “Just… you might want to relax a bit. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack at this rate.”

That evening, as the sun began to set over the track, Yn was standing outside, taking in the sight of the glistening Las Vegas skyline. Ollie, spotting her alone, took a deep breath, gathering up his courage as he walked over to her.

“Yn,” he said softly, almost surprising himself that he managed to speak without stumbling over his words. “I—I, um, wanted to say that… you’re… you’re really wonderful.”

Yn turned to him, her smile gentle as she took in his nervous expression. “Ollie, you’re so sweet. Really, thank you for everything today. You’ve been amazing.”

And before he could even process what was happening, she leaned in, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Ollie’s face turned bright red, his brain seeming to freeze as he tried to process what had just happened. For a moment, he stood there, utterly silent, before mumbling, “Uh—um—wow.”

Yn gave him a soft smile, clearly amused by his reaction. “Goodnight, Ollie. See you tomorrow.” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, stunned.

It took Ollie a few moments to snap out of his daze, but when he did, he practically sprinted over to where Charles and the others were waiting.

"Charles! She—she kissed me on the cheek!" Ollie’s face was still bright red, his eyes wide with excitement. "She’s so… amazing. And kind. And—she smelled like… like flowers, I think."

Charles chuckled, patting Ollie on the back. “I know, mate. You’re smitten.”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. "Honestly, we all saw this coming. You’ve had heart-eyes for her since the moment you met her."

Ollie grinned, barely able to contain his excitement. “She’s just… she’s perfect.” He turned back to Charles, his voice full of admiration. "What do you think I should do now?"

George, overhearing, walked over with a smirk. "Well, if you’re lucky, maybe Yn will be around for more races. Just keep being yourself, mate. I think she’s already noticed how much you care.”

Ollie looked up at him, a hopeful smile on his face. “Do you really think she does?”

George gave him a warm smile. “Oh, I’m pretty sure, Ollie. Just take things slow. You’ve got plenty of time.”

As they all stood there together, Ollie couldn’t help but smile to himself, his heart racing with excitement as he thought about Yn. It was a good night in Las Vegas. And who knew what tomorrow would bring?

[venmondiese]

ESPRESSO

-ˋˏ| summary: Late at night, Aemond thinks of you to keep himself awake. And he doesn't doubt to ask for your help to do so.

✧ | Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader

✧ | word count: 1.5k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Masturbation, Submissive Aemond..., Sending nudes and stuff.

✧ | notes: i wanted to try something new and short as i was busy, and this came up. very obviously inspired on expresso by sabrina carpenter!

miss you

It was no surprise to get messages of this kind from him, especially when he was so busy with the last bit of college. Aemond has told you how many essays he has to do, and how many exams are left.

It was almost the start of summer, and he liked to torture himself by studying two careers at once.

miss u too ;)

There was something peculiar with your relationship with Aemond, you loved to be a tease around him. But it was partially his fault, since he entertained your whims. 

His brother Aegon was the only one aware of this situation between you two, since he catched you both in the act. Not even having sex… yet it did not look good for Aemond. 

Aemond always texted you in the nights, where he was up until late, studying. You also worked late, but you did it for different reasons. 

“Mhm… Alys never wanted to do those things with me…” he confided in you once, to which you responded. 

“Mhm. Too bad your ex didn’t do it for you”

 He often tells you how you were like a dream girl, something you took pride in. Aemond wasn't just some love sick puppy. He was truly a good catch, and yet he was all wrapped on your finger. 

It was due to both of you being quite nonchalant about the whole matter. If it worked, nice. If not, whatever. Yet you both found this weird teasing game interesting. 

I can’t sleep. 

You checked the time. It was 2:37 AM. It was no secret he couldn’t sleep, and you were awake too. 

It’s late. Go to sleep.

His answers always came quickly. 

I can’t. I am finishing one essay and then the other. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping.

Aemond wasn’t the type to do small talk, or whine about his problems just because. He didn’t do things just because. 

You had a small smirk as you rolled to your stomach in bed as you saw his message. You type yours quickly.

Boo ;( 

You turn your nightstand light on, as you get up to go and fetch a glass of water as you wait for his answer. He probably already replied by the second, but you truly didn’t care. You liked to tease him on this. Sweet and slow. 

As you come back on your bed, your cat goes away to the movement, as you take your phone sipping your water.

 Can I get a picture? Please.

He was always like this. Wanting a small encouragement as if that would make his performance at his studies better. 

And you indulge him. Aemond knows that even if he was the one taking all the initiative, you don’t ignore him for a reason. And he loves when you play hard to get. 

Sometimes, when he made something to displease you, he had to apologize as he kissed you. Or sometimes you’ll tease him, stroke his cock over the clothes and then abandon him to his luck. It drove him insane, and it made him want you further. 

He was sitting on his desk, the light tried to make him focus on the papers in front of him, yet Aemond could only wait anxiously for your message. Every two seconds he checked his phone. He yawns as he looks at the hour. 

It is probably ten minutes later when the notification of a video pops up, and he stands up to watch it from his bed. He knows he needs it like this; he was almost painfully hard, since he had been trying to do it on his own, but he needed you. 

Your video is all he needs. The lightness of the video comes as too bright, but he manages to get over it. You were wearing that lingerie that he loved and gifted you, which you sometimes put it with a babydoll that matches.

Yet this time you weren’t wearing it, and he could see your shiny skin, probably you oiled it up a bit to his delight. It takes him a while to separate his eyes from your clothed cunt, to see that you weren’t wearing the bra that comes with the lingerie. 

You were a tease, not allowing him to see your cunt as he would love to. He gets totally distracted by you, imagining anything but his studies, and all of his thoughts were filled with you. He often allowed himself to try any new idea you have, no matter how weird it might sound, he gives it a shot for you. 

You twirl around to allow him to check you out in that outfit. Oh you looked so pretty, and so tempting like that. It drove him insane, as his hand moved down almost by pure instinct. 

Your next message kills him.

Was it what you wanted?

He never plays hard when he is hard and needy.

Yes. I’m horny as hell. I can’t concentrate anymore. 

You smirk, as you ponder for a moment before texting him. 

Want my help? I think you should give it long and slow strokes, baby. Up and down. 

You don’t hear from him for the next 5 minutes, honestly. He was dead silent, he left you on read and nothing more. 

And then the video he sends starts loading on the chat, and you lean back on your bed as you bite your lip, seeing the blurry preview while you wait.

You didn’t want to play hard to get and see it later; you opened it immediately when you saw the frame of Aemond’s naked chest, as he propped his phone up on his nightstand beside his bed. Even if it was clumsy, you could see his chest flexing as he tried to accommodate it so it wouldn't fall. He wasn’t as experienced as you with video angles for these kinds of things, but it made it all hotter. 

As he lies back in the pillows, you can see how he bites his lip, his hand drifting down from his chest to under his pants. You accompanied him when he bought that pair; green and black squares. He didn’t like the shirt that came with it, and you were so thankful for it because you could see his toned chest that you so much liked. 

“Fuck…” He groans, moving his waistband lower, just enough to let his cock slip out and he doesn’t waste a moment more, his hand strokes it slowly, as the pleasure starts building up in his lower belly. 

As his cock slid through his fingers, you heard his heavy breathing, murmuring curses as his back was against the headboard of his bed. His cock was throbbing, as he looked at his cock with a half-lidded expression. You could see it all, and the angle made it all better. Aemond was usually very restrictive when it came to sending nudes; he never added his face or even allowed his long platinum hair to get in frame. But this was a full on feast after what now seems as crumbs. 

Even if he started with slow, long and teasing strokes, he quickly became more and more eager, as his cock twitched and leaked. Soon enough, his hips bucking into his own hand as he groaned loudly, as his head leaned back from how good it felt fucking his own hand. 

“Fuck, this feel so good…” He groans, as you could hear the wet sounds and the bed moving under his movements. Aemond was never too vocal or too quiet, but tonight he seems rather eager, and with good reason, since his stress is probably the source from his high drive tonight. 

You always loved how thick he was, and you could see how red his tip was as he thrusted his own hand, whimpering in the microphone. 

“Gods… Oh, fuck” he mutters as you could see how his thighs trembled and his groans where louder. His balls tighten up, and you could see how he was close to cumming, increasing his pace by minute. 

Even if he tried to prolong his pleasure, it seems he was rather more prone to show you the effect you had on him. 

As he came undone, muttering a line of curses and pleads, you could see how he came, cum spilling over his fingers in hot and thick roped that you’ll love to lick it. He made sure to milk every last drop, as he gasped and turned to the camera for a moment, biting his lower lip as he was flustered, his cheeks rosy and his chest moving with each breath. 

As he was spent he leaned over to the camera with a half lazy half sheepish smirk and he ends the video, not saying anything else after it. 

It is after you end the video, you get another message from him. 

I’ll be thinking about you all night. 

And you sure hoped he did. 

[sixosix]

SLEIGHT OF HAND | LYNEY

summary you will not let lyney get to you. unfortunately, lyney already got to you the moment you met eyes. after all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?

or, local sumeru architect goes to fontaine looking for inspiration and comes out of it with three rainbow roses and a crushing magician.

warnings 13+, gn!reader, follows the fontaine archon quest, so there are major spoilers throughout the entire fic! MURDER (lyney trial spoilers) + feminine french pet names ough + bff!Aether loml + sweet talker lyney + KISS SCENE (suggestive)

notes 8K words. thank u to my french bff art @aanobrain who said lyney is a magician he would say mon lapin 🤧❤️ + other various french pet names. thank u to ellie hyomagiri & earthtooz too for hyping this up, my supporters…

“500,000!?”

Sumeru streets are always bustling with its people—from children skipping around the neighborhood to frantic scholars who zip back and forth before returning to their homes when the moon is high. However, the sun is beating down on everyone right now: street vendors are making a profit, dogs are barking as they play fetch with laughing children, and you stand across the blond traveler and his floating companion.

You wince at the volume of Paimon’s shrill voice, inciting bypassers to send miffed glances your way. Embarrassed, you cover the side of your face with a hand, whispering, “Is—is that not enough? I can—”

“No, no, it’s not that!” Paimon’s arms flail around, eyes blown comically wide. “It’s just, you know, more than what we earn from our daily commissions combined!”

“Oh, I see.” you nod, relieved. “Well, I can lower—”

“No, no, no, no,” Paimon interjects hurriedly, and even the traveler shakes his head. “Pleasure to do business with you! Paimon and Aether, at your service!”

“Really?” you can’t believe your luck—the traveler himself agreed to escort you to Fontaine! Or does it count if Paimon agrees on his behalf? “That's a relief. Even Katheryne of the guild had a strange expression when I posted my commission.”

“It’s probably because of the amount of zeroes you might’ve accidentally put,” Paimon murmurs.

Aether tugs on her foot as if warning her. “We'll be leaving soon. Are you prepared?”

“Oh, yes. My stuff’s over there by the bench, you see?”

Aether and Paimon’s faces simultaneously fall. “All of that?” Paimon starts counting it, gaping when she has four little fingers held up.

They sure complain a lot. “You can still back out.”

Aether takes a deep breath, making his way over to your luggage. When he brushes past, you hear him chanting 500,000; 500,000; 500,000 under his breath. He wordlessly carries all of them, his chest puffed and expression grave.

“They’re heavier than I thought,” Aether wheezes out as Paimon flits worriedly around him. “How long are you going to be staying in Fontaine?”

“Oh, just a day or two, maybe,” you say, taking pity and taking one bag from him. “Most of what’s inside are art supplies.”

“Ah,” Aether says.

“500,000,” Paimon reminds him.

“We’re close,” Paimon says, flying back to where you and Aether are still walking behind, him heaving and you offering water now and then. “I saw a huge ravine-looking view! It was like a city on a waterfall!”

“R-Really?” Aether puffs out a breath, sweat rolling off his temple.

You tried prying some of your bags away from him when it seemed like there were monsters up ahead, but he refused instead to fight them with one hand on his sword. He still won. You guessed that he was trying to make traveling easier for you, yet all you felt was immense worry.

“Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” Paimon asks, floating beside you. “You look unwell.” You should ask your companion that, instead.

“I’m a bit nervous. After all, it’s my first time traveling outside of Sumeru.” You smile, patting her head. She doesn’t seem to mind, beaming back. “But I need to get out of my comfort zone to be better, right?”

“That's right! Paimon has a feeling you’ll enjoy Fontaine!” You and Paimon glance at Aether when he heaves a heavy breath, yet he only waves the pair of you off with his free hand. “Before you know it, you’ll be itching to travel again once you’re back in Sumeru.”

“I'm only there for work. I just need to learn a lot, and then I'll enjoy it.”

“Still a student through and through, huh…”

“I can see it,” Aether chimes in, looking all too relieved to rest his arm finally. “I can see Fontaine up ahead.”

You feel the cool breeze brush against your face, a refreshing change from the past hours you and the other two have been trudging through the desert. You could strip off layers and dive if you could. You can make out the harbor even miles away, pouring water out like an endless waterfall stretching for miles.

Arriving in Fontaine is introducing yourself to the rustle of layered skirts, the water-kissed smell, and citizens left and right babbling about tragic endings and thrilling climaxes.

Aether sets your bags on the floor with a heavy exhale. Paimon feeds him with another jug of water.

“I guess we’re here now.” You pull out a heavy pouch you’ve been keeping in one of the bags Aether had been holding over his shoulder. Paimon takes it with greedy, greedy hands. “Thank you for keeping me safe and carrying my luggage, Traveler— are you even listening to me?”

“There’s a girl over there,” Aether says, now staring ahead.

You and Paimon turn to look; sure enough, someone is standing by the edge, looking forlornly over the water. Half of her foot is off the platform, making Paimon fidget.

She gasps. “She isn’t going to jump into the water, is she? Maybe we should go check on her…”

Halfway through Paimon’s sentence, you gathered the courage to speak to the girl with the cat ears.

“Hey, miss.” Her ear twitches. “Is something the matter?”

She turns, looking faintly surprised. If you weren’t so close to her, you wouldn’t have been able to tell there was a change in her expression. “I'm fine. thank you.”

“Oh.” Now things are a little awkward. “Is there something in the water you’re looking at? You might slip if you keep tipping forward.”

She peers below, unworried—silent.

“As long as you’re okay, I guess,” you sigh, awkwardly hovering above her shoulder when realizing it might come off strange if you touch her. “I’ll leave you be.”

Her lips twitch, something close to a smile. You don’t stick long enough to admire it, heading back to Aether and Paimon and shrugging at their inquisitive looks. “She says she’s fine.”

“I think it’s time for me to separate,” you say. “I want to take all of it in as much as possible. Paimon has my payment. Thank you both so much for keeping me safe.” Mostly Aether, though. But Paimon was there, emotionally.

“It’s no problem,” Aether says, his smile warmer than when you first met him. “Stay safe out there. You can look for us if you need anything else.”

“I don’t always pay 500,000 for each of my commissions.”

Paimon wilts. Aether flushes, stammering, “Not what I meant.” You laugh heartily as they wave when you walk off to the aquabus, hopefully, prepared for what Fontaine will give you.

Your sketchbook is a page away from completion when you hear about a magic show at the Opera House. Not that it was hard to miss—everyone and their grandmothers were prattling about nothing else but the entire day.

Fontaine is known for its love for dramatics, but the twins they keep mentioning must be a one-of-a-kind spectacle to have half their region’s population speak about them so reverently.

After wandering for hours, taking in the endless sights of fresh water streaming and grand castle-like modern buildings, you find yourself in the Fountain of Lucine. You’ve heard of Fontaine being somewhat titled the ‘City of Love,’ but seeing couples surrounding each nook and cranny of the tourist spots was still astonishing.

(You console yourself by thinking that there’s something romantic in sketching frantically while the rest of the crowd are sucking faces.)

To your luck, you spot three familiar heads in the fountain plaza.

Aether senses you before you can even say anything, glancing to the side and smiling when you wave at him.

Paimon flutters excitedly. “Y/N! We didn’t think we’d see you again this early. You look like you’re glowing.”

“Was it that obvious?” you laugh sheepishly. “Fontaine is beautiful; I couldn’t even stick too long in one place before I see something else that catches my attention.” You look to the girl you met earlier, who nods politely. “Hello. Are you three acquainted now?”

“Mhm!” Paimon says, hands on her hips. “This is Lynette! She’s inviting us to the show they’re holding here!” She gasps, “Speaking of—”

“Ah,” Lynette says quietly, “I couldn’t get an extra ticket. I’m sorry.”

Lynette is the magician you keep hearing about? With her seemingly reserved personality, you wouldn’t have guessed it. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Paimon,” Aether speaks up. “They gave you your ticket, right? Why don’t you just float next to me or sit on my lap?”

Paimon’s eyes sparkle. “Great idea! That way, I can give my seat to Y/N, right?”

“You guys…” Your chest feels warm as Aether hands you one of the two tickets in his hand. “You really didn’t have to.” Is this what 500,00 gets you? The loyal companionship of Aether and Paimon?

“It’s a good idea,” Lynette says. “My brother wouldn’t want you to miss the show. He’d be devastated.”

“If you insist, then I suppose I can’t refuse.” Aether and Paimon do a cute little cheer. “But I need to return to the hotel; I can’t be watching a magic show carrying all these.” Surely Aether can understand.

Later, with your hands finally empty and charcoal-free, you rush back to the Opera Epiclese, the person standing guard kind enough to open the doors despite being a minute late.

“Welcome, one and all, to the Opera Epiclese!” The audience roars with cheers as the spotlight illuminates a figure on the center of the stage. You hurry to your seats, brushing past Aether and Paimon. “I am the star of today’s show, Lyney.”

Lyney bows, then stands upright with a Cheshire cat grin.

The thunder of the crowd’s applause is deafening. If you weren’t able to see it, you’d think that you hadn’t been clapping at all—senses numbed and your fixed stare all on the boy on the stage.

Your eyes catch on the small braid on the side of his head before the gleam of his eyes hypnotizes you.

He’s handsome, you think dizzily at the back of your head.

“Don’t blink,” he says, his voice lower as if meant to be a whisper, “or else you might miss it.”

The show proceeds. A dove soars away from inside as he flips his hat; you flush at hearing the soft laughter that slips from him after. The cards that materialize out of nowhere descend to the floor. His fingers shuffle the cards while talking to keep the audience satiated; they fly off his hands, yet he doesn’t lose focus, stretching them mid-air with a sleight of hand. They fall apart and come together neatly and precisely.

His stage presence is demanding. It would be as if Lady Furina herself would accuse you of committing a crime if you were to look away for even a second.

Then, when he scans the crowd, busy twirling his cards in his fingers, his gaze catches your awed ones.

Something in the air shifts. Or maybe it’s that it slows.

A card slips from his grasp. A mistake. He blinks and breaks eye contact, laughing heartily to play it off. But you don’t believe it—not when you swore your limbs locked in place as well when lilac drilled into your soul.

You breathe, hands bracing against your chest. What was that?

You would’ve played it off as something you imagined if not for Lyney continuing to glance at you occasionally. His slip-up had been forgotten, as though it was all part of the show.

(Is it also part of the show when it seems he’s unable to tear his eyes off of you?)

Of course, the twins prove their worth. They showed you exactly why the people of Fontaine adore watching them through theatrical magic, cards in their sleeves, and defying logic.

You’ve shuffled to the edge of your seat as Lynette disperses into bubbles and comes back alive. You’ve held your breath as Lyney emerges from the box across he was in a moment earlier.

You’ve also been witness to the murder of Cowell.

CRASH.

The shatter of glass resounded along with the horrified gasps of the audience. Sickeningly enough, you could almost hear the crack of bones if you hadn’t been crying out in alarm. Yet, as they gape and shriek over the sight of a limp arm popping out, you find your gaze tracing back to Lyney, who stands motionless in front of the box.

When Lady Furina points fingers and has everyone siding against him, the guards escort the audience from the Opera House. All evidence presented left Lyney in a spotlight unlike his performance: with a disgusted and unamused crowd. Even you have to agree that it isn’t looking well for his case at all.

Yet all you can think of as you leave the room is that Lyney looked as terrified as everyone else was—much too raw of an expression for someone to accuse him of anything at all. He looked young and scared.

(His hands were shaking.)

The rest of your Fontaine trip is admittedly duller when you’re a little more familiar with its city and don’t have a yapping little fairy and a capable Traveler by your side. It’s hard not to hear chatter about the events that went down: Lyney’s trial, Aether volunteering to be his lawyer, and the truth behind the real murderer.

It solved a case beyond the murder of Cowell. Fontaine sure has its mysteries, and the crowd sure loves them as they would a magic show.

You keep your hands busy. Last night, you found yourself thinking back to the magic show, to deft fingers weaving through cards, to violet eyes that kept on flickering to you. By the time you snap back to reality, you’ve subconsciously drawn shapes and lines that suspiciously look like the magician himself: the curve of a smile, piercing eyes, and you entranced by it all.

Flustered, you crumple his face staring back at you out of sight. Yet you can’t bring yourself to throw it away.

You shove the last bit of garlic baguette in your mouth to furiously bat these unwanted thoughts away.

“Isn’t that Y/N?” Paimon’s voice is unmistakable, a short distance off.

You jump out of your skin, spinning to see Aether and Paimon waving and walking over to you. You thought they'd already left Fontaine after that; you wouldn’t blame them if they did.

“Y/N! We haven’t seen you since the Opera House performance,” Paimon exclaims, twirling around your head like a thrilled fly circling a trash can.

You hold onto her back, hoping she’ll stop making you dizzy. “We were escorted out before I could say goodbye. I couldn’t watch the court trial but heard it all turned out fine.”

“That’s right!” Paimon nods proudly. “Paimon helped a ton during it; you should’ve seen it! What have you been doing?”

“I found a fellow architect while visiting the cafe nearby, and we chatted for hours,” you say, remembering that your voice is hoarse for that reason. You also don’t tell them you couldn’t get a certain magician off your mind. “I learned a lot. I don’t regret coming here one bit.”

Paimon says something else that you’re sure you’ve nodded absentmindedly at while your gaze wanders over to the two familiar people a few feet behind, watching you three with cat-like eyes—and it’s not just because of Lynette’s unique features.

“Those are the magicians, right?” you gesture behind Paimon and Aether as if you haven’t already familiarized yourself with their faces.

Paimon nods. “Uh-huh. You should introduce yourself! They look like they want to talk.”

Something about that feels foreboding. “Um, no, it’s fine. I don’t want to be rude and interrupt your conversation.”

“No,” Aether says firmly. He seldom speaks; you might as well play along if he says so. “Besides, Paimon is right. Lyney wants to talk to you, you know?”

“Oh, yeah! He kept mentioning seeing someone sitting beside us! And it couldn’t have been Neuvillette because he said it was an unfamiliar beauty that bewitched this weak magician’s heart.” Paimon nods, even recalling how he’s enunciated each syllable theatrically.

“I’m sorry?” you blurt. “Lyney recognizes me? What did I do?”

“Paimon thinks it’s because Lyney is curious about who Lynette met! He was like that with us, too.” Paimon changes her pitch to match Lyney’s. “Are these your friends, Lynette?”

Aether’s eyes feel like they know something you don’t. “It won’t hurt to strike up a conversation with Lyney. He’s been shaken up since the trial.”

There’s something unspoken hidden in his words. “What does that mean?”

Paimon doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to where the twins are waiting. Aether chuckles as he jogs behind.

“Paimon, Aether,” Lyney says, almost sly, “You haven’t introduced us to your friend here.”

“Paimon can do it!” She floats on top of your head and does a bit of jazz hands. “This is Y/N, the one who commissioned us to escort them from Sumeru up to Fontaine.”

“Generously,” Aether adds.

It’s a little embarrassing to have the legendary Traveler and Paimon introduce little old you to a famous magician such as himself, but his grin is still excited.

“From Sumeru?” Lyney repeats, smiling wider when you nod—as if that crumb of attention is enough for him. “I see.”

He performs a bow around the same height as where your hands rest; he takes one, kisses the back of your palm, and smiles against your skin. “I’m Lyney, and she is my sister, Lynette.”

“It’s nice to see you again.” You smile at Lynette, who nods in return. Lyney straightens to look at his sister.

“We met when the Traveler and Paimon just arrived at the harbor,” Lynette sighs even without looking at her brother.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, meeting Lyney’s eyes. The spot where he kissed is still warm—tingling. “Your show was incredible, despite what happened. I’m glad that the truth revealed itself.”

“Thank you.” Lyney’s gaze sharpens. “I saw you at the performance, yes. I was worried for a second you might steal the show if you were to come up on stage.”

You blink. “Are you saying—”

Lyney grins, “I apologize that the night had to end that way; it must’ve been horrifying. Say, what if I give you a little show right now to make it up to you?” Did he make it up to each one of his audience, too?

This is not a man acting “shaken up,” as Aether put it.

“You really don’t have to.” You glance at Aether and Paimon, silently asking for help; however, they’re too far gone, urging you to say yes with gestures and encouraging nods.

Lyney tilts his head, demanding your attention on him once more.

You sigh. “I would love to see it if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!” Lyney looks like he’s the sun bursting personified. “It would be a pleasure, ma chérie. Not to worry, it’s nothing life-threatening. I just need you to focus on me.”

Not that it’s hard. The others have become a dull buzz in your mind as Lyney holds your gaze. “Okay.”

Lyney smiles, much softer, satisfied. “Good. Now,” he tips his hat, “recently, I’ve received a little lesson from someone about the language of flowers. Are you familiar with them?”

“Not in Fontaine, no,” you mumble, watching his hands closely. You were expecting a rabbit to hop out of that hat any second now.

“Shame. But I suppose I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun.” Lyney snaps his finger, then deposits his hand inside his hat. “Hmm… Oh? Something’s not quite right. Would you mind looking into this hat for me to see if the flower is here?”

You hesitate. The hat is so close to him.

Swallowing, you nod, leaning in to inspect his hat at a careful pace. All you can sense is the faint scent of heat Lyney is emanating, the breath you two share, and the pounding of your chest. You swear you could also hear his, matching yours.

“The hat’s empty.”

Lyney smiles wider. “Yes, perhaps because you already have it.”

You jump back in surprise, your hands patting your body to see where he could have snuck the flower in. With your frantic movement, the flower falls off from what seems to have come from your head—Lyney catches it.

His mouth carves into a smirk, leaning to invade your personal space, his free hand coming up to tuck hair behind your ear. “Careful.”

Your face is burning. Plucking the flower out, the delicate and tender pink sears into your palm. “What does this flower mean?”

“What does it, I wonder?” Lyney whispers thoughtfully. “I suppose you’ll have to tell me once you find out.”

And when he inclines backward, it feels like you can breathe again. Time flows normally, and the people passing by seem much louder than before—as though you’ve surfaced from underwater.

Lyney clears his throat. “Shame I haven’t prepared myself a grand show for you, but I suppose that would call for another time, wouldn’t it?”

Lynette is looking at Lyney as if he is stupidly amusing.

“Thank you,” you say, burning, burning. “For the show, I mean.”

“That was a little weird,” Paimon whispers to Aether, but she is terrible with keeping volume and has everyone turning to her with varying expressions. “P-Paimon means that was good! Wow, Lyney! Isn’t that a different flower you gave us? That’s the flower Charlotte was talking about, right?”

“Rainbow rose?” Aether supplies.

“Yes! It means—”

“Ahem.” Lyney is quick to interrupt. “Lynette and I must take our leave now, if you don’t mind. It was fun catching up with you two.” You have to hold your ground and not look away when he hones in on your figure. “And it’s a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger. Look for me if you want more.”

His smile is a little devilish, you now realize.

“Bye,” Lynette says blankly, following after her brother, who seemed to be hurrying to exit.

His ears were red.

“You’re still staring.”

“I am not,” you rebuke hotly, flailing to cover Aether’s mouth with your hands. Yet all it does is bring your attention back to where Paimon and Aether are staring—the rainbow rose on your person.

Paimon and Aether yelp when you drag them away despite Lyney having already left the scene.

“Hey—! Don’t just go dragging Paimon around like a balloon like that! Did Lyney get to your head that much?”

“He did not.”

Paimon tilts her head, frowning. You shy away from her worried gaze, glaring at the flower instead. You still don’t know how Lyney managed to get it there; you hold it to your chest, where your heart is racing miles per minute because of his stupidly smug smile.

“What does this flower mean, Paimon?”

Paimon seems elated to be of help. “Easy! Charlotte told us that Rainbow Roses mean ‘passion’ and most notably ‘romantic encounters’!”

“Passion,” you curse. The rose seems as if it is staring back innocently, unknowing of the turmoil you’re going through because of it. “Romantic encounters.’ ugh.”

You can still remember how Lyney’s eyes twinkled as you felt his breath against your face.

“Ooh, he thinks he can trick me. He thinks he can affect me just because it pleases him to do so. I’ll show him. I’ll show him! I am not a blushing maiden!”

“You’re already very affected by this,” Paimon says, yet it’s lost by your newfound determination. Two can play at this game.

You’ve definitely been staying in Fontaine longer than what you told Aether and Paimon, but you can’t leave yet. Not when you found yourself walking to a flower shop to purchase a vase, fiercely digging through soil, turning gentle when your fingers reach for the Rainbow Rose. Not when you see it in the corner of your eyes as you try to sleep, and you find yourself daydreaming about a charming violet-eyed virtuoso.

It’s for research, you excused lamely at the hotelkeeper who didn’t ask why you’re extending your stay. In truth, not that you’d tell anyone. It was because you were hoping for another grand show from him. A farewell show for you—closure.

If you were to travel back home and get too drunk to think straight, Kaveh would learn about your crisis (romantic awakening?) and laugh at your face.

In hopes of looking for your Fontaine architect friend, you spot Lyney instead, on the side of the street surrounded by cheering kids. They clap and jump, and Lyney laughs. “One more, one more!”

“Again?” Lyney does an exaggerated sigh. “I’m starting to run out of cards in my sleeves. I’ve guessed my entire deck from your hands by this point!”

“But, Mr. Magician,” one of them whines, pouting up at him and blinking, “we want to see more! We want to know how you do it!”

“Alright, how about this, hm?” And then Lyney peers right at you. Ironically, you’re the one startled when you’ve been watching that entire spiel, and he hasn’t acknowledged your presence beforehand. “Y/N, would you mind giving these children a little show with me?” He gestures for you to come closer.

“What show?” you ask suspiciously, taking slow steps in case he pulls out another flower out of nowhere.

“You don’t have to worry,” Lyney laughs. “Will you be my assistant for this show? You are very familiar with this trick.”

“Please, we want to see!”

You falter at the little kids’ excited grins, especially when paired with Lyney’s pout and round eyes. “Okay, tell me what to do.”

His eyes do the little gleam again. “Stand in front of me, mon lapin.”

Your heart is skipping beat after beat, making itself known as you shuffle until Lyney is directly behind you.

“Relax, chérie, you just need to stand still.” It’s a little hard to relax when you feel his breath against the back of your neck, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that, so you keep your chin high and relax your shoulders. “Good.” 

He begins to speak louder to his awaiting audience. “I know it’s hard to keep your eyes off this beauty before me, but watch the hat for a surprise, alright?”

He flips it for his little audience, one hand resting on your waist and the other extended to hold his top hat. The proximity is almost suffocating. You watch with bated breath, and they complain about it being empty.

“Oh, is it?” Lyney hums, twirling the hat until it’s flipped upside down, presented right before you. “Perhaps I need my assistant’s help.” You snap out of your daze when you realize he’s talking to you. “Y/N, do me a favor and show them the flower inside.”

You reach inside the hat and, much to your surprise, feel a stem. You pull it out; the Rainbow Rose stares back at you, almost mocking you, saying he did pull out a flower out of nowhere. It's this trick again.

The kids gasp in awe and confusion—it’s all the same for Lyney, who snaps his fingers and creates magic like he was made to. Like magic was for him to summon with his hands.

“What? It was empty!”

“Where did that come from? I was watching Mister Magician’s hands the whole time!”

“Are you a magician, too?”

“No,” you say lamely, holding the rose, feeling Lyney still patiently standing behind you. Heat crawls up your neck. “No, I’m not. It’s all Lyney.”

“It’s all me,” Lyney echoes in amusement. “You’re quite magical yourself.” Finally, he spares you, pulling away to stand beside your figure. He doesn’t take the rose back—maybe even give it to one of the children. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “That’s enough for today. The sun is setting, and your parents might get worried.”

They pout and slump their shoulders, but Lyney has this older brother's sternness to him that has the children scurrying back home anyway.

You then realize having to stand in front of Lyney was unnecessary.

The flower is warm. Lyney’s eyes slip to yours.

“I didn’t even have to stand in front of you like that,” you complain, heart inclined to race off your body.

“Yes, but I feared that I would slip up again if I were to catch a glimpse of your face,” Lyney admits smoothly. His lips curl into a smirk when you stare wordlessly. “What? Don’t believe me? I had to improvise when I saw you watching from afar.”

“A great magician such as yourself? Making a mistake? I doubt it.”

“You already have such high expectations placed on me, chérie,” Lyney says, his smile easy, but his ears are a little red, poking out from his hair. “That’s no good. With no audience, I’m just plain ‘Lyney’ to you.”

“No trickery? No cards up your sleeves?” you play along.

Lyney doesn’t miss a beat. “No, though I do have a few more roses begging to be held by your hands.”

“They can keep begging.” Lyney grins wider when you glance down at his hands. “Do you give them off to everyone you meet?”

“Who do you take me for?” Lyney isn’t offended; he laughs, delighted. He is preening under the sunset—or maybe it’s your attention. “Of course not. At least, not like this.”

You stare, unimpressed. “Sure.”

“So cold, chérie,” Lyney sighs, plucking the stem from your fingers to slot it behind your ear. It seems he likes doing that. “Here I am, trying to get you to warm up to me, and you treat me like this.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be going back home soon anyway.”

Lyney’s expression shifts into something more unrecognizable, his eyes dipping down to somewhere below your nose. “Oh. Avoiding attachment?”

You nod.

He grins, and he’s still so close. He knows how to entrance his audience, pulling you in until you forget to resist. Always watch the hands; yet Lyney could be digging a dagger to your side at this moment, and you wouldn’t even notice.

“I’m flattered you even want to avoid me because you know you’d get attached,” he purrs, tilting his head. Is Lyney just big on personal space? 

“Don’t assume,” you retort. “I know how guys like you think. Even a magician as great as yourself can’t trick someone who’s already seen through it.”

“It would be easier if it were just a trick, wouldn’t it?” Lyney sighs, much to your confusion. “I take it that someone has told you what this flower means?”

You’ve nearly forgotten all about it. “Yes.” You find yourself unable to look directly into his eyes. “I know.”

But even with that, you can still feel his heavy gaze, pinning you down and threatening the strength of your knees. You suppose it comes with being a performer—watching his audience carefully, pinpointing each micro expression to say the right words.

“There doesn’t have to be any attachments.”

“What are you trying to say right now?”

Lyney’s reaches for your hip, sharing your gaze like he doesn’t know how to do anything else. “That you enamor me. That I am holding back from wanting you. I know you feel the same—you can never hide anything from a magician. But if you’re concerned,” he mumbles, “then this doesn’t have to mean anything. You may call it infatuation.”

You want to laugh. Or maybe you want to cry. Most of all, you want to nod helplessly, wrap your arms around his neck, and give in. It’s hard not to when he looks at you like that. “You want me that bad?”

“I almost want to disagree.”

“Almost?” Lyney gets closer, and you stop him with a palm on his chest. “We’re outside.”

Lyney grins. “Have you forgotten what Fontaine is also known for? No one would bat an eye. Love is in the air, and all that.”

“Absolutely not.”

“So still you’re letting me?”

You laugh this time. Letting him, as if you aren’t the one itching to pull him close and find out what he’s like behind the curtains. “Are you asking me as plain old ‘Lyney?’”

Lyney brightens, clearly pleased there wasn’t a ‘no’. “Yes.”

“No tricks?”

“No tricks. No strings.”

You let him lead you away into some dark alleyway. He kisses you like he was longing to do so all his life. You have only met him that fateful day, not even a week ago. But you claw at him like you get it—like he’s ruined you for anyone else the moment you shared gazes in the Opera House.

Romantic encounters, you quietly recall as Lyney swipes a thumb over your aching bottom lip.

You don’t see Lyney the day after that. And for some reason, it makes the itch worse. (Perhaps it’s because you’ve gotten a taste and can’t get enough.)

It’s mostly your fault, the sudden disappearance—you’ve cooped yourself up in the hotel room, buried your face in pillows, and screamed. You berate yourself for giving in, but another part of you—one that’s louder than any other thought in your head—wants to do it again. Wants to hold his handsome face in your hands and have him kiss you breathless. That was nothing like you had ever felt before.

You groan. It’s another new day. You might as well make some progress with your portfolio.

There’s a Café you’ve been visiting more often than not. Ordering a drink and spending a good chunk of your day sketching the view. Instead, you find yourself staring at Aether, Paimon, and Lynette seated at one of the tables.

Lynette’s eyes flick up to yours as she sips tea. She murmurs something to the other two, and you watch with amusement as Aether and Paimon’s heads snap to face you.

You let your gaze wander, eventually landing on Lyney, who is reciting his order with his charming-act-on smile, who is present because of course he is. You want to turn and run away, but that’d be letting Lyney win, and you’re nothing if not stubborn and prideful.

“Y/N!” Paimon greets once you’re within earshot, kicking her feet happily. “Good morning! What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast,” you reply, waving at them. Aether pulls a chair from the other table and gestures for you to sit. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope!” Paimon swipes a fork from the table and digs in on the Ile Flottante, leaving nothing for Aether. “Lynette and Lyney told us about another show they’re holding to make up for the previous one.”

“Mouth full,” Aether reminds her, a little too late as the Ile Flottante spews from her mouth.

“Really now? Maybe I can pay properly for a ticket this time,” you laugh, nodding at Lynette. She smiles faintly, hiding it behind the rim of her cup. Lynette sure is the polar opposite of her twin brother.

A shadow looms from behind, the silhouette of a figure with an unmistakable top hat. You tilt your chin and see Lyney peering down at you with a sweet smile. You will yourself to keep your gaze focused on his eyes only and nowhere else below the nose.

Speak of the devil…

“Sweetheart,” Lyney says instead of exchanging pleasantries like a normal person.

“Lyney,” you reply in kind. Then you look away upon realizing that Aether, Paimon, and Lynette had been silently watching the exchange with muted, stunned expressions.

Lyney, holding a tray of drinks and food in both hands, scoots the chair next to yours with his ankle. “I wasn’t informed that Y/N would be joining us,” he says, setting the drinks and plates down like a waiter with a flourish. “You can drink mine. Let me order another.”

You hold onto his wrist as he makes his way back. He turns to you, surprised. “Let me at least pay for my own breakfast.”

Lyney grins, delicately withdrawing from your grip. He places a loud kiss on your hand. “Don’t worry about it.” And then leaves, because he can’t take no for an answer.

“Is it just me,” Paimon starts as you resign yourself to finishing Lyney’s drink (It’s your favorite, the one you always order), “or is Lyney acting weird around Y/N?”

Aether laughs. “There's definitely something going on. Don’t end up staying too long in Fontaine, now. What was it you told us? ‘A day or two’.”

You huff, your face turning unbearably warm. “Shut up, you two. I am here to do research, not to find a summer fling.” You’ve already failed, but they don’t need to know about that.

If you were to touch your lips with your fingers, you’d think of no one else but Lyney’s hands on your hips and his mouth swallowing your words.

Lynette clears her throat, a quiet but noticeable thing. “Don’t be fooled by my brother, Y/N.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still keeping my safe distance.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. Don’t be fooled by my brother.” She stares at you from the rim of her cup—something about that has you listening obediently. “No matter what he tells you, he always cares too much. No matter what you may think, he always gets hurt first.”

“That’s not…” You can’t imagine that. From the start, it’s always felt like he was the one who could do what he wanted.

No tricks.

Lynette is his twin, after all. She knows him best.

No strings.

Defeated, you sip on the straw with the same fervor of an aggravated hilichurl, and that’s the end of that.

Conversations during breakfast are much lighter when Lyney returns with a full meal as his treat. Celebration, he says. Celebration for what? Who knows? Lyney winked, but his glance directed to you said enough.

“You say that you don’t want to get attached, but you’re awfully close to the Traveler, of all people,” Lyney says offhandedly once the others have left for their own matters.

You lean against your seat, grinning. “Are you jealous?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead upturning his nose as if scrambling to regain control. You laugh, oddly endeared. Lyney turns his head away, trying to hide the smile that curls his lips upon hearing it.

“Hey,” Lyney says seriously, reaching for your hand. “Where have you been yesterday?”

“Why? Missed me?”

And because he’s Lyney, he takes his time kissing each of your knuckles. It’s more intimate than the whole ‘no strings’ arrangement you agreed on, but you suppose Lyney thinks that any physical attention is free reign. “What would you do if I said yes?”

“You’ll be fine,” you say slyly. “You’ll have to get used to it if you want to risk your heart just to get laid.”

He rolls his eyes, tugging you closer. “I’m not risking anything to get laid. Do you think so lowly of yourself, chérie?”

“Isn’t this all there is to it? Physical attraction,” you ask, genuinely confused.

Lyney blinks. “Of course, but—” His eyes flicker down, and his words trail off.

When you speak, you feel your breath bounce back from his skin—a testament to your proximity. “Lyney,” you whisper. For what? Urging him to continue? Urging him to close this distance? You’re not sure, either.

You have so much to ask. What do you mean? Why can’t you finish your sentence? Why don’t you just kiss me already? But it’s hard to speak; Lyney’s name is all you can think of. 

You whisper his name again. His grip on your hands tightens and loosens, a frustrated frown creeping up his brows.

Your hand shoots out to reach for the back of his head and give in. He flinches for a second before relaxing completely.

His lips almost taste sweeter than his words. Almost as sweet as how he finds purchase on your waist and holds your chin during every kiss.

You pull away to breathe, missing how he leans closer to chase after you and pouting when he can’t. “Yeah. That—That didn’t have to mean anything. I just wanted to know what it felt like again.”

“Yeah.” Lyney licks his lips, his gaze unable to tear away from where yours are swollen. “Yeah, I know. You taste like my drink.”

Really, no one’s surprised you gravitate towards each other again, feeling like you’re soaring and melting into a puddle at the same time. Lyney doesn’t touch you where you both know would cross the line, but he grips near possessively to what he can, as if breathing you in and worshipping your skin.

You know after this, he’d go back on stage, fooling his audience with what’s invisible to the average eye, as if this never happened. You know this because this is your deal: satiate the feverish attraction you have with each other and leave once you’re satisfied. (But you also know that you’ll be thinking of his touch and his lips while you stare at the vase beside your bed.)

Lyney is a magician, first and foremost.

He hooks you in, and keeps all your attention to himself like he’d die without it. Then he disappears with a snap of a finger. He’s finished his trick, leaving you befuddled in your seat with more questions than answers.

As you drift off to sleep, all you can think of is that there are two roses now.

“Brother.”

Lyney looks up from where he’d been entertaining Rosseland, seeing Lynette with a stern face. “What? What happened?”

Her tail flicks. “You said you weren’t going to get attached.”

Lyney exhales softly, his eyes slipping shut. “I’m not.”

Lynette finds herself smiling softly. “I may just be your assistant, but you can’t lie to your own twin.”

He buries his face in his hands. With his sight gone, images of your face while whispering his name flash in his mind. His eyes fly open, mortified, his whole face red. “I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t think it’d be deeper than that.”

He was the magician in this, but it felt as if you were the one who tricked him instead.

It’s been two weeks since you first arrived in Fontaine. By this point, you’ve grown more familiar with its views than your own city. Having Aether, Paimon, Lynette, and even Freminet around doesn't make it any easier for you to feel at home.

And then there’s the Lyney Situation. You meet up most nights, more than that when he’s free from shows. He keeps seeking you out, and you keep letting him in. There was one night where Lyney spent the night instead of heading straight to the door—and those nights turned into two, then three, and then he finds any excuse to keep doing it.

It’s not like you could stop. He told you look for me if you want more, and you always want more, because how could you not? Lyney treats you like he’s never had to take care of anything more precious but still manages to render you breathless like you’ve never experienced thrill the way he gives it to you before.

But you still have to go back home. And Lyney still has his own life, has his secrets. He feels untouchable even when your arms are wrapped around his neck.

No strings attached can still work for summer flings, doesn’t it? And what are summer flings, if not just that?

Lyney hovers above with his hands caging your face. He’s grinning so wide—and you’ve seen all kinds of smiles on him with your time spent together, but it was never this genuine.

“You’re bad for me.” He says it like a confession, a prayer.

You raise an eyebrow. “What did I do to you?”

His hand trails down until he’s rubbing shapes on your hips. “Make me feel like I’m myself whenever I’m with you.”

At your silence, Lyney clears his throat. “But it’s not like that, don’t worry. I just mean—”

And how does that even make sense? He pours his heart, then later reveals it’s nothing but a decoy to keep this facade realistic.

“Oh,” you say.

That was the final act you’d been waiting for. The final trick—the farewell show.

And so you pack your bags—shoved your sketchbook back inside, face forward, and promise not to look back. Leaving Sumeru hasn’t even been this hard.

Aether and Paimon shouldn’t be surprised if they find you missing; they’d been the first to know that your stay in Fontaine isn’t meant to last forever. And you’ve warned Lyney about this. Avoiding attachments? It felt more like running away from your problem.

Lyney is a busy man on his own; you’re nothing but some architect from a different region who happened to get caught up with him at the right time.

You sigh and call for the aquabus.

A hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you to collide against a familiar chest. Lyney’s eyes are wide, almost insane. Sweat clings to his forehead, and his breath comes in frantic pants.

“W-What—”

Lyney’s eyes search your face. Or maybe it’s him trying to convince himself that you’re right there, in front of him. “You didn’t even tell me.”

“I—I’m sorry—”

“Were you just going to leave like that? Don’t you think I at least deserve a farewell?”

“Lyney, I’m sorry. I know, that was stupid.” You haven’t seen him with an expression like this before—so raw and broken, begging to be glued together with your hands. “I didn’t want to formally say goodbye because I knew I'd want to stay.”

“That’s stupid,” he repeats in agreement.

You breathe shakily, eyes scanning the stunned crowd. What’s The Great Magician Lyney doing here? Holding some stranger in his arms? That must be what they’re thinking.

“How did you even know I was leaving?”

Lyney’s eyes cut down to his hand, gripping a crushed rose. “I was paying a visit to an empty room.” Embarrassed, he tries to toss it away, but you take it before he can.

You wordlessly place it in its home: the spot behind your ears. You don’t tell him that the two other roses he gave you serve as bookmarks in the sketchbook you’ve used all up in Fontaine. Where you’ve drawn his face more often than not.

Lyney groans in frustration, his hands curling around your waist. “Is staying so bad?”

“It’s not like I’m leaving forever.”

And then you notice Lyney’s hands. They’re shaking uncontrollably, not unlike how it did during that incident—and with it came the frantic exhales, as if natural human breathing alone is already hard enough for him.

“Oh, Lyney,” you say softly. You drop your bags and embrace him fully.

He doesn’t hesitate in pulling you closer, burying his face on your neck. “Don’t—don’t,” he gasps, “don’t just try to leave like that.”

It’s hard seeing Lyney like this. He’s usually so composed and easy-going. He gulps in a deep breath, and his voice cracks as he calls for you. This must be something out of his control—something deeper than the back of his stage.

“Y/N,” he whispers.

“Lyney,” you call back as gently.

He swallows your surprised noise with his mouth, moving against you like you’re his last meal on Teyvat. He’s still shaking, but it has subsided the longer you stay pressed against each other. You’re not sure if it’s his Pyro vision or if it’s your skin burning at the thought of Lyney’s skin against yours. It’s searing.

This is different from the last kisses you shared.

Passion, you think dizzily, breathless from his hunger. This is passion.

“What was that for?” you ask, embarrassingly winded.

Lyney brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. He looks sad. As though he only comes alive when you’re with him. “A kiss to make up for your absence in the following weeks.”

“I can always come back,” you say. “No, I will come back. I promise. I just need to get home for a bit.”

“Okay.” Lyney nods, exhaling heavily. “Yeah. I know, I understand. Once you come back, come straight to me, alright?”

“Of course.” You lean in to kiss his cheek. You’ve never done it before because it always came off too intimate. And judging by the blush that explodes on his face, he thinks the same.

It all doesn’t matter. The line has been crossed days ago; you’ve just been turning away from seeing it.

He kisses you again. Then again. “Have a safe trip,” he says in between kisses. “I almost wish you commissioned me to escort you, regardless of the price.”

“What, you want 500,00?” The aquabus has arrived; Lyney grips you a little tighter, childishly willing himself not to see it.

“500,000 kisses, and more.” Lyney rests his forehead against yours, his captivating eyes keeping you still, the way it always does. “But you can give me that when you come back.”

( Before they were taken away from the stage for an investigation, Lynette comes up to her brother and asks, “What happened back there, Lyney? I thought you were about to twist your own fingers.”

He is unsure how to tell his sister that he saw your awed expression and nearly lost his wits.

“It was nothing,” Lyney admits, his face growing hot at recalling his slip-up. 

It wasn’t out of embarrassment, no—not when the memory of your wide-eyed beaming expression and how his mind blanked along with the skip of his heart plagued his mind.

“It was nothing,” he repeats numbly. It’s not. It was the start of something. )

a/n ok just a quick rant this fic BROKE ME. it was like every other day i hated then loved writing this fic. im not used to writing fics this long so pacing is not my forte </3 but i just feel proud of myself for finishing this so HOPE U LIKED IT. if ure still reading until here ily ❤️

more a/n two lyney fics and two kissing scenes. i can’t even lie to myself. everyone can tell.

more more a/n it was halfway through writing this fic that i rewatched the magic show and only noticed lyneys hands were shaking and i GOT SO SAD OMF 😭😭😭😭

[fawnindawn]

even at our worst, we know we'll still be okay (luke castellan x apollo fem! reader)

summary: Where Percy's insistent pestering forces Luke to rethink on his possibly not platonic feelings for you, his best friend, and Percy's questions are answered for him with Luke's reaction to you being heavily injured on your return from your quest.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

a/n: i'm actually in love with this, maybe it's just the friends-to-lovers in me (where a love confession happens because one of them was near death's door-) but man.. also, i love including percy so much he's such a kid.

masterlist for this series next

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Face it, man. You're whipped."

Percy watched Luke choke on his water, coughing as he tried to swallow past the sudden accusation. Wiping at the excess that dripped past his chin, Luke raised a brow at Percy.

"Whipped? For who?" Luke questioned, eyes averting and staring straight ahead, beyond the training grounds towards the meadows in the distance, seemingly searching for something or just doing a poor job at avoiding Percy’s unimpressed stare.

“I’m not blind, as much as Annabeth claims, to this...love stuff.” Percy huffed, half in exasperation and half in exhaustion as he leaned forward using his sword to balance himself. “You’ve been depressed ever since she left for her quest.”

Luke doesn’t need to hear your name to know who Percy was referring to. It’s been weeks since you were chosen by your father, Apollo, to descend on some mighty quest to fetch back his lyre that had been stolen. It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous quest, but Luke had felt his gut sinking when he first heard the news from you.

“Why does he need to send you out there, where you could possibly be tracked down by monsters to get back a musical instrument of all things?” Luke snapped, exasperated as he runs his fingers through his curls, pacing back and forth in the Hermes Cabin, while you laid on his mattress looking undeniably calmer than he was.

“Luke, my dad won’t purposely send me on some death trap. I'll be fine.” You tried to reassure him, waiting for him to calm down in his pacing before you extended your hands in his direction right as he turned to make another round through the cabin for the seventh time. “Hey, come here.” You gestured. “Sit with me.”

He hesitated, stopping in his tracks as he finally took the time to look at you, noting your concerned expression at him. As if you weren’t about to descend on some ridiculous quest to god knows where all because your father couldn’t pluck up the effort to collect the instrument himself.

The longer your hands stayed outstretched for him, the more his anger and frustration dissolved into the overwhelming need to be near you. One second, he’s standing and the next, he’s laying in bed with you, your arms wrapped around him to stabilise him even though he should be the stronger one. The one to look out for you.

Laying his head on your shoulder as he wrapped one of his fingers around your hair, curling it in his palms, he spoke again in a soft whisper only for you to hear. “I’m worried.”

“I know.” You responded, your hands tracing at the curve of his shoulder, stopping at his collarbone, before your finger moved to tilt his face by the chin to look at you. “You trust me, right?” You ask, knowing his answer but wanting to hear the reassurance all the same.

“Course' I do.” He replied immediately, his eyes intense as he made eye contact with you. That was without question. You could ask him to walk into blazing flames, and he'd trust you would ask for good reason.

“Then you can trust that I’ll make it back alive.”

“Alive can mean lots of things.” He muttered, his eyes growing distant, the ghost of blood and a stinging burn running down the half of his face appearing uninvited in his mind.

“I’ll make it back alive and unharmed.” You reiterated, a knowing look in your eyes as you unconsciously traced at his scar, leaving warmth where it resides, making him shiver instinctively. “It’s a promise, Luke.”

He stayed silent, before slowly moving his hand to cup yours that rested over his scar. “I’m counting on it, sunshine.”

That promise rested over Luke’s conscience, gnawing at the back of his heels, chasing him daily from the early hours as he forced himself not to break over the stress and anxiety before putting on his golden boy facade, to pretend that he wasn't constantly distracted and nauseous over the thought of something happening to you without him being there to protect you.

He would've snuck out of camp if he could, just to find you, but Chiron had been tight-lipped on your destination, his all-knowing gaze piercing right through Luke when he had tried to nonchalantly ask about your whereabouts.

"I wish I could help you, Luke." Chiron had told Luke a few days after you had gone. "However, Apollo's request was clear. Only she shall take on this quest. No one else." The pin-point gaze Chiron had locked onto Luke made it clear he was talking about him.

"I am not whipped." Luke denied. "She's my friend. Like how you're my friend."

"I don't think your friendship with her is normal though." Percy fired back quickly, sipping on his own water as if he didn't casually demolish the older boy. "I swear I caught you bringing her back after curfew to your cabin, a few times in fact."

Luke felt his cheeks flush at Percy's sudden interrogation, smashing facts after facts on an early Tuesday morning. "I've been having.. nightmares lately. She's the only one who keeps them away." He didn't know why he felt like he had to explain himself to the kid, but the longer his friendship with you went under fire, the faster he wanted to get out of this conversation.

"You don't think that's something you should think deeper about?" Percy muttered with a shrug.

Luke is left speechless, his mind short-cutting at the sudden implication of.. him feeling something more for you? His most recent memories flashed through his mind. You tucked under his blanket as you laid beside him for the last night before your quest, a sleepy smile etched on your lips before you whispered him goodnight and he pulled you into his chest so he could feel your heart beating against his to push away any tricks currently playing on his mind, bringing light to how you're the only person he believes could calm him down and bring him peace-

"She's my best friend." Luke replied, more to himself than to Percy. "I'm just worried for her. A quest like that shouldn't take so long, and I keep imagining-"

He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to say his fears out in the open in fear that his words would jinx it, but Percy knew where he was getting at. Percy inched closer to Luke, moving to pat him awkwardly on the back in an effort to comfort him. "It's normal to be worried. From what I heard from Annabeth, you two are really close. I didn't have much conversations with her before she left, but she seems brave, and smart too. I have no doubts she'll make it back. If she's half as good as you, there's no way she wouldn't."

Luke felt a real smile crossing his face, the corners of his lips quirked up at Percy's words. "She's not half as good- she is better than me." He turned to look at Percy, that shine in his eyes noticeable as he talked about you. "Don't let her hear that when she gets back though, she'll talk my ear off for ages."

Percy returned his own smile, elated to see Luke have some improvement in his mood, proof being the first genuine smile Percy's seen in weeks coming from him.

"So.. do you want to stop for today?" Percy attempted with a casual tone.

"Why? Backing out already?" Luke teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he inched towards the kid jokingly with his sword raised.

"No!" Percy denied frantically. "I swear I'm not using the sympathy card as an excuse to get out of training-"

The sounds of a horn cut off his words, groaning across the camp, reaching the training grounds in record time. Luke felt his heart palpitate, nearly crashing into his rib cage.

He barely had time to think, yelling to Percy with urgency flying off his tongue. "Catch you later, Perce!" Then, he was off, his legs carrying him up the hills and back towards the camp entrance.

He heard Percy yell his name in confusion, but he could apologise later for his sudden departure.

You had come back to him.

The journey seemed too long, his shoes scrambling for ground, barely scraping the dirt as he ran towards the front of camp. He didn't know what to expect, a celebration with cheers from the other campers on your arrival, a glimpse of your face with that smile he loves. What he didn't expect was the silence as he came towards a slow jog before ultimately stopping at what seemed to be a crowd gathering around something- or someone.

He pushed his way through, barely making the effort to apologise over the thought of seeing you. His eyes finally caught onto what the onlookers were staring at, and his heart dropped.

You laid on the ground, passed out with what seemed to be dark, angry coils covering your skin, ranging from your neck to the outstretch of your back that was exposed from the gash in your shirt. That stupid lyre laid not too far from you, its golden strings ripped apart.

The sound that tore from his throat barely sounded like his voice, yelling out your name as he pushed through the final barrier in the crowd before reaching for you. He nearly made it before someone dragged him back, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

The curses that left Luke's mouth would make anyone wince, and he had to resist the urge to punch whoever was holding him back as he twisted his head to face his repressor. "Chris! Get out of my way." Luke hissed, still trying to make his way to you, fury twisting in his gut as he couldn't fathom why no one's helped you yet.

"Calm down, Luke!" Chris pleaded, desperation in his eyes forcing Luke to falter. "I know you want to help her but you have to listen to me. Whatever attacked her left something contagious on her body. Someone already tried helping her but it spread to their skin too!"

Wait? While whatever was attacking your body seemed to grow more intense by the minute, as Luke's gaze locked onto your form and watched the sickening, black coils spread further and further up your neck.

"Rodriguez, does it look like I care if it spreads to me?" Luke spat out, giving his friend a final push. "If she dies, I won't ever forgive myself for standing on the sidelines. Let me go now."

The cold venom in his tone made his friend loosen his hold just enough for Luke to rip himself out of his arms to drop his knees beside you. He grabbed hold of your shoulder, which still had shreds of your shirt to prevent him from being stung by whatever was infecting you, but his other hand which grabbed hold of your back did not face the same fate. The coils snaked onto his palm, and he gritted his teeth at the burning sensation.

Just as he turned you around so he could lift you up, he heard the familiar sound of hooves stamping against the soil and he looked up to see Chiron approaching with a grim expression. No words needed to be said as Luke met eyes with the centaur, a mutual understanding as Luke wrapped his arms around your torso and legs.

He pushed through to help carry you up, barking orders for the crowd to part way as he made his way to the infirmary. The longer he held onto you, the more every bone in his body seemed to scream to let you go, but he only focused on every step it took to get you closer to help, his eyes unable to look away from the paleness of your skin, the blue to your lips.

It seemed unfit for a child of Apollo, a child of the sun, to be dull and lifeless. You looked dead, and if it wasn't for the faint drumming of your pulse he could sense from your wrist, he would've struck the name of your father with such unbridled hatred, Apollo himself would descend from the heavens to condemn him.

"Please." He begged, holding onto you tighter despite his body's cries not to. Begging to who, he did not know, but if any being could save you from the fate you did not deserve, and pass it to him instead, he would gladly offer his prayers and worship. If it meant saving you, he would take your pain and suffer it tenfold just to see you open your eyes again.

It took you five days to recover. The infirmary had been quarantined and no one save for Chiron and Will, the main healer from the Apollo cabin, was allowed in. In those five days, no one dared approach Luke, who seemed near death's door despite having received his own small dosage of ambrosia to heal the coils that had managed to sink into his skin. He had begged Chiron to let him visit you, but Chiron deemed him too unstable to be near you, your recovery process a fragile thing that required tentative hands and patience.

Waiting to see you was a torture not even he could have envisioned for himself. He had been torn apart at the seams, of his belief in the gods and the scars that were immortalized onto his body. He had lived through days of water and nothing but false hope, hiding from monsters and other horrors before he made it to camp, arriving as a scrawny boy with eyes having witnessed events no kid his age should have to go through. Yet, no pain he had experienced could compare to his fears of losing you. If he-

He couldn't think of it without wanting to puke, but if he lost you somehow, he would lose his faith in this world. There would be no one to hold him back, no you, to stop him from letting go of the world that failed him and tearing it down.

It didn't help that in those five days, he had dreams. Of a different world, of salvation. A dark, ancient voice called to him, older than time, with whispers of promised glory and revenge. There was no you, none of your soothing touches or voice to wake him. In those five days, his strength faltered and he made a deal.

On the sixth day, he was woken frantically by a shake on the shoulder from his sleep. He roused awake, dizzy and still-half asleep to see Chris talking to him in rushed incoherent words.

"Awake- She's awake, sleepy-head!"

Luke was half-dressed, still fighting off sleep with aggressive rubbing to his eyes as he tugged on his t-shirt, rushing towards the infirmary with Chris hot on his heels.

He burst through the front door, holding his breath when he finally saw you, propped up on two pillows talking to Will. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he rushed over to you.

You turned to him then, just in time to see him blink his tears away. "Luke." You called to him softly, and time seemed to stop just for the two of you, and he could only see you in his vision.

"Can you guys give us some privacy?" You asked politely, eyeing Will and Chris, but your eyes never drifted far before moving back to him.

"Of course." Will responded, quickly getting up from his chair towards the exit, dragging a confounded Chris with him with a tug on the back of his shirt. "Hey! I wanted to see her too-" "Give the two lovebirds some time alone, you idiot."

Luke inched closer to you, his heart beating so loudly in his eardrums he swears you could hear it too. You lifted your arms to him and he didn't waste time, taking you in his arms and embracing you so tight, and yet he felt he couldn't be close enough.

"You were dying. In my arms. I felt it when I carried you in here." He muttered into your shoulder, shaking as he finally let out the exhaustion and pain he had been feeling since the day you left.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." You apologised, rocking him back and forth as your voice croaked up. "All I thought of was you. When I fought against that beast, I kept repeating my promise to you. That I would come back to you. You saved me."

He shook his head, feeling his tears wet his cheeks as he pulled back to grab you by the chin, a gentle touch like he was afraid you would disappear if he couldn't see you talking to him, that your voice would be a hallucination he concocted. "I should've stopped you from going. I had a bad feeling since I heard about it. I should've protected you- prevented you from getting hurt in the first place-"

You stopped him with a kiss, desperate yet shy, before pulling away and pressing your forehead to his. "I love you, Luke. I was so scared I would never get to tell you and it would've been my biggest regret. I love you so much, Luke, and I'm sorry if this ruins anything between us but I can't hide it anymore-"

Luke cut you off the very same way you did, but with such intense hunger you gasped when he kissed you, sloppy and with even more desperation, tugging at your bottom lip and pulling you closer with his hand at nape of your neck. "I love you." He muttered through quick breaths. "I love you, it actually hurts because of how much I do." He admitted, grabbing your hand to place right above his heart, which is owned completely and only by you.

He leaned in once more, addicted to the taste of you, kissing you with one hand holding yours to his heart, the other pulling you close so that there was no space between the two of you. When he had to stop so you both could gasp for air, he pressed his forehead back to yours, the first smile stretching at his lips in days. "I never want to be apart from you ever again, you hear me, sunshine?"

You giggled at his words, nodding slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Extra: Luke reappears with you the next day when you insisted on wanting to get out of the infirmary after being cooped up away from the sun for so long. ("You're such an Apollo kid." Luke teases, which you ignore with a roll of your eyes.) He's with you every step of the way, and now that your feelings are out for each other in the open, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you on the cheek or fawn over you without hiding his intensity.

When he makes eye contact with Percy over the room, the damn kid gives him a wink and a thumbs-up.

a/n: i want to expand so much more on this, with kronos taking advantage of luke's weak mind during your recovery and more, OMGGGGGGG. tell me if you guys want more pls and i'll make more parts. thank you for reading if you made it this far <3

update: I am officially making this into a series called ‘everything in between’. To those who want to follow more on their story, you can comment on whether you want to be added to the tag list for this series or check the masterlist!

[little-diable]

Hillbilly Cowboy - Tyler Owens (smut)

I just love writing for him, I don't know why, but damn I l o v e it! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader's home gets destroyed by a tornado, but what happens when Tyler Owens and his crew show up to help? Will she accept his offer to find shelter at their house or push him away?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), shower piv, this is filthy, choking, lots of teasing, talks about losing a home, but mainly fluff and smut

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.6k words)

“No, fuck off, I don’t need a hillbilly cowboy like you messing with my stuff.” (Y/n)’s voice was hoarse, trembling with sadness and anger. She had her calloused, bloody fingers pressed into her waist, eyes set on the man who was standing close with a confused expression tugging on his handsome features. 

“We’re just here to help, sweetheart.” He kept his voice quiet, hand stretched out for (y/n) to take. But she no longer could think clearly, distracted by the past hours and the knowledge that all her things were gone, ripped from her by the tornado hitting her and her neighbours homes. 

“I know who you are, I’ve seen those videos. I don’t want somebody who makes money off this destruction around.” She tried to turn from him, urged on by her anger. But (y/n) didn’t get far, losing her balance as her vision suddenly grew blurry.

Tyler Owens was instantly by her side, catching her before her exhausted body could force her to the ground. She was torn between her screaming mind and the way her body seemed to search his closeness, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against hers to protect her from herself. 

“C’mon, at least allow me get some food and water for you first.” This time she didn’t protest, letting him guide her away from the mess she was surrounded by, her no longer standing home and the belongings she hadn’t cherished enough until today. Tears kept dripping from her exhausted eyes, tears she didn't manage to wipe away, not as Tyler gently pushed her into a camping chair, not as he fetched some stuff for her, not even as he crouched in front of her with one hand placed on her knee in a comforting manner. 

“Thank you.” It was just a whisper, but enough to draw a smile onto his handsome face. Wordlessly (y/n) began to stuff some food down her throat, knowing that she needed as much energy as possible. It didn’t take long for her thoughts to start spiralling again, wondering where she’d go from here, knowing that there was nobody around to support her. 

“Fuck, what will I do now? Is there a sleeping shelter? How do I find a new home?” The sadness dripping from her words wiped his smile right off his face while Tyler tightened his grip on her knee. His thumb rubbed gentle shapes into the fabric of her dirty trousers as she got buried by her avalanche of fears and questions. 

“Do you have any friends or family you could call?” She only shook her head, unable to speak another word while her throat grew tight. Tyler kept studying her, letting his eyes wander over her tear stained cheeks. 

“We have enough space in our home, you can gladly stay with us for a while.” He expected her to protest, expecting her to call him a “hillbilly cowboy” like she had done when he had first stepped onto the property and then again a few moments later. But (y/n) kept quiet, staring down at her food and the bottle of water she clung to. 

“Do you really mean that? Are you sure about that?” The slight nod of his head was enough to draw a sigh from (y/n). She let herself ponder over the offer for a few more moments before parting her lips again, knowing that this was her only chance to find shelter without others she didn’t like near. 

“Alright, thank you.” 

……

“Here, this is the bathroom. I’ll ask Lily for some clothes or you can have one of my shirts.” It had been hours since Tyler had stepped into her life, gently pulling (y/n) out of her darkening state before he had begun helping her. They had tried to save whatever they could, packing up bags with belongings that had been scattered around the property. Exhaustion had followed her around, and (y/n) had crashed the second he had guided her to his truck, instantly falling asleep before Tyler had even started driving. 

“Are you sure I’m not intruding?” Her voice was quiet, struggling to fill his room while her eyes were focusing on her dirty fingernails. Tyler stepped closer, and with his fingers finding her chin, he tilted her head up towards him, forcing her to get lost in those piercing eyes she had felt on her frame for the past hours. 

“We’re happy to have you around for as long as you want to stay, (y/n). I promise.” She didn’t find any words, could only shoot him a slow nod before he let go of her again. Without speaking another word, Tyler stepped out of the bathroom to give her some privacy, letting (y/n) be alone with her racing thoughts. 

She shuffled out of her muddy clothes, letting them drop to the ground before finding shelter in the shower. The second the warm water hit her skin, her tears started falling again, forcing a sob out of her she didn’t manage to hold in. Her body shook with every sob, drowning in the sadness she had felt ever since her eyes had taken in the destruction of her home. 

Only the sound of Tyler softly knocking on the door – to tell her he had found some clothes for her to wear – managed to pull (y/n) out of her state. She pushed her face under the water, letting it wash away her tears before stepping out of the shower to dry herself. (Y/n) didn’t dare look at her reflection, not wanting to see the lifeless sensation swimming in her pupils to remind her of the mess she was stuck in.

Slowly, she opened the door to Tyler’s room, finding it empty. Her eyes instantly found the big shirt and a pair of shorts he had laid out for her, next to what seemed to be still wrapped up panties. Even though the shorts and underwear seemed to belong to Lily, (y/n) was sure that the shirt was Tyler’s. 

His scent wrapped itself around her as she put on the shirt, reminding (y/n) of the way he had pulled her into his chest a while ago, mumbling to her that everything would be alright. It felt like a sick joke, losing her home the same day she meets a man she had sworn to cuss out only to feel herself drawn to him, a thunderstorm was brewing deep inside of her and Tyler Owens was the cause of it all. 

“(Y/n)?” His soft voice reverberated through the room like a summer breeze, gently cozying her along to draw her gaze towards him. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest while his eyes took in her frame. Only as she shot him a reassuring smile did he allow himself to step into the room, moving towards her to pull (y/n) in for another hug. 

She clung to him as if he were her life vest, supporting her body as if it was the sole purpose of his life. No words were shared as he held her, allowing (y/n) to try and ground herself. Too many sensations clashed through her, and yet she found herself being grateful that Tyler was right there to hold and guide her. 

“Food should be ready in a few,” Boone’s voice echoed through the air, ripping the two apart. Tyler kept his hand placed on her waist, studying (y/n) for a few more moments before he stepped away to open the door and guide her downstairs. 

……

“(Y/n), c’mon, sweetheart.” She was ripped out of her sleep by his gentle voice, followed by him shaking her. Sweat was pearling on her forehead, heart racing and hands balled into tight fists. It took her a second to let her eyes find his concerned ones, studying how Tyler was kneeling next to her on his bed, staring down at her. “You’re alright, just a nightmare.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was small, letting him barely hear it as she sank down on the mattress again. Embarrassment clung to her, filling her system while Tyler was sitting next to her, not daring to leave her side just yet. 

“There’s nothing you have to apologise for, sweetheart.” Tyler squeezed her wrist before he slowly peeled himself away from her. (Y/n) let her eyes study his frame for another second before she spoke up again, letting her hand reach out to find his. With both their eyes set on their hands, (y/n) slowly interlaced their fingers – something that made their hearts skip a few beats.

“Would you stay? Please?” Tyler had taken care of her ever since their paths had crossed almost twelve hours ago, he had taken her in, had held her, had listened to her rambling. And even though she barely knew him, her heart ached for his closeness, needing to be held by him again. 

“Of course I will.” She pushed herself away from the spot she had been resting on, making room for Tyler who laid down next to her. Within seconds, Tyler had wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling (y/n) flush against his front. Her body instantly relaxed, making her feel as if he was the light guiding her out of her darkness, the one who’d lead her to safety if she let him. 

Tyler’s lips pressed a kiss to her hairline, making her breath hitch in her chest. (Y/n) could only try to shuffle even closer while trying to lure herself back into her tired state, suddenly feeling completely awake. 

“I’m sorry for being so mean to you.” She mumbled the words, barely able to let them roll off her tongue while embarrassment threatened to drown her. Tyler’s chest shook as a laugh left him, forcing his eyes back down to meet hers. The smile tugging on his lips was all too bright, leaving her chuckling while her hand started to move on its own, cupping his cheek to feel his warm skin pressing against hers. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You are allowed to call me a hillbilly cowboy anytime you want.” Now it was on (y/n) to laugh, to momentarily close her eyes to shake off the heat crawling up her spine like dark clouds forming a storm so intense she’d have to live through it all once again. Tyler’s hand danced up and down her spine, touching the spots that were buzzing with heat, leaving her breathless. 

“Careful, Owens, otherwise I will keep on calling you that.” His hand stopped moving, resting on her lower back to pull her slightly closer. With one of her legs finding its rest between his, Tyler kept her trapped. She felt his breath ghosting her lips, making (y/n) awfully aware of their closeness. 

“I would be honoured.” (Y/n) slightly shook her head, letting another soft laugh rumble through her while her hand moved from his cheek to his lips. Softly she traced his cupid’s bow, finding herself wondering how it must feel to kiss him. A thought he seemed to pick up on while tilting his head down further, about to close the gap between them. 

“Will you let me kiss you?” His question was met with a widening smile. And then everything stopped spinning and moving, no longer spiralling down the rabbit hole her anxious mind had pushed her into. Suddenly everything was still, nothing could be heard besides their gasps as Tyler kissed her. 

It was a careful kiss at first, letting both of them adjust while her hand dropped from his face to his shirt. She fisted the fabric as if she was desperately trying to hold onto him, all while Tyler pushed her even closer with his hand still resting on her lower back. 

“Let’s get some sleep in you first before I properly tire you out.” Tyler whispered the words against her lips, unable to bite down his grin while she stared up at him. (Y/n) only rolled her eyes at him, trying to turn from him though without much success, letting go of another laugh as Tyler kept her caged to him. 

……

It was still early as she woke again, still pressed against Tyler’s front. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the kiss, the way he had held onto her, how he had touched her with more care than she probably deserved. She gave herself another moment to soak up his closeness before she peeled herself out of his hold. 

With her eyes set on his sleeping frame, she crawled out of the bed to make her way towards the bathroom. For the first time since stepping foot into this house, (y/n) allowed herself to look at her reflection in the mirror. A smile tugged on the corner of her lips before she turned towards the shower. Tyler’s shirt fell to the floor, her panties following moments later. 

She was too distracted by the feeling of the warm water cascading down her back to hear the door being pushed open, allowing Tyler to study her. His eyes danced up and down her frame for a second before he stepped into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him – a sound that told her all about his nearing presence. 

(Y/n) didn’t react to it, she didn’t turn towards Tyler – patiently waiting for him to take the next step. Perhaps she was insane, perhaps this was something she should run from, and yet she didn’t feel the need to run, no, all she wanted was to be close to him. Seconds kept fading by, seconds where she wondered if she should turn towards him after all, but then she felt him near, front pressed against her back with one arm finding its way around her waist. 

“Morning,” his raspy voice left her shuddering. Goosebumps rose on her skin, growing in number the second his lips found her neck, softly kissing her wet skin. 

“Morning,” she repeated the word. With a soft sigh, (y/n) turned in his grasp, letting her arms find their way around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. The kiss grew deeper instantly, forming a mess of tangled limbs and tongues, letting their hearts race in sync. Tyler pushed her back against the shower wall with one leg resting between her thighs, pressing against her heat. 

“So, will you tire me out now?” Her teasing words left her without much strength, breathless from the shared kiss. A fire was burning in his pupils, growing stronger with every touch, every shared moment, and neither of them wanted to tame it. 

“Only if you know how to ask for it nicely.” A beat passed between them, then another, all while her smirk grew and her hands began to wander down to his chest. His muscles grew tense beneath her touch, leaving her buzzing for more. 

“Fuck me, Tyler. Pretty please.” His lips found hers again, silencing her rambling self while his hands explored her body. Every touch of his managed to set another part of her ablaze, a wandering fire that left its mark on her body, never fading to remind her of this moment – of how she gave herself to a man she barely knew.

“I can’t wait to have my way with you, to tie you up and fuck you stupid.” His words left her moaning in need, allowing her mind to paint all these pictures. The feeling of his calloused fingertips finding her pulsing bundle managed to distract (y/n), letting her head roll back to expose her neck to Tyler’s lips. His lips left their own marks on her soft skin while his hands took care of her every need, rubbing her bundle as he pushed two fingers into her. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, feels like you were made for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) gave herself a few moments, allowing him to push her closer to her high with simple movements that felt better than ever before. But she was hungry for more, desperate to feel him resting on her tongue to make him feel whatever it was she found herself addicted to now. She pushed Tyler away with a soft grin, looking up at him to distract him from her wandering hand, how it found its way to his twitching cock. 

With her teeth leaving marks on her lower lip, (y/n) sank to the ground, staring up at Tyler with an all too innocent gaze. His raspy moans filled the bathroom, growing louder the second she parted her lips to give his tip a soft lick. He was throbbing for her, needing more – whatever she was willing to offer. 

“Atta girl, let me in.” She slowly took more of him, feeling him resting on her tongue, allowing (y/n) to feel every part of the soft skin. Tyler’s hand was buried in her hair, keeping his strong hold on her as if he was about to prepare himself for another rodeo, set on winning every single prize. And he’d win them all, with grace, with her mewling his name and the silent promise that from today on he was the only one to make her feel this blinding high. 

His strong hold encouraged her to move, to bob her head while her hand took care of the parts she couldn’t reach without choking. Tyler looked like a god, towering over her with his muscular body on show, with his lips slightly parted and his eyes glistening with an intensity she’d never forget again, sure that she had just found her new favourite colour. 

(Y/n) hummed around him as his hips jerked, forcing his cock further down her throat. The way she looked up at him, eyes filled with encouragement, was enough for Tyler to start fucking her mouth, using her as if they had done this numerous times before. She allowed him a few thrusts, giving him just enough to push him into that drunken head state that would slow his movements, distracting him from the way she was about to pull away. 

“What-,” his question was cut short as she rose back to her feet and met his lips for a kiss. All tongues and teeth to perfectly express the need both were set on, guiding them towards the high both were aching for. 

“I want you to cum when you fuck me.” She looked all too innocently while speaking words like this, robbing Tyler of his strength to fight back. With a smirk thrown her way, he pushed her against the tiles, keeping her caged between his broad frame and the wall he was about to fuck her against. “I have an IUD, and I’m clean.” 

“Me too, but fuck, are you sure? I don’t mind grabbing a condom.” Her soft chuckles were paired with another kiss she pressed against his puffy lips. She clung to Tyler as her hand found its way back to his aching cock, giving it a few more tugs before guiding him closer. Tyler could only push her hand away, replacing it with his own to align himself with her heat and to push into her. Her walls fluttered around him, instantly teasing the man who tried to hold himself back from fucking her too hard, not wanting to leave her bruised after their first time together.

“Behave, sweetheart.” The command was met with a laugh rumbling through her, a laugh that turned into a moan as he bottomed out, leaving her full and stretched. Her fingernails were clawed into his skin, holding onto Tyler while he started fucking her with perfectly calculated thrusts. 

“Where’s the fun in that? I thought you’re all about taming wild things.” His hand found her throat, pinning (y/n) back against the tiles while giving her a silent warning. Tyler’s grip wasn’t strong enough to cut off her airstream, and yet just enough to heighten her senses. They struggled to hold eye contact, even as Tyler wrapped one of her legs around his waist to fuck her even deeper, making her feel every inch of him. 

“I’ll take my time taming you, you’ll lose your will to fight quickly enough, baby.” The words were rasped into her ear, making her tremble against him. His thrusts met her swollen spot shaking straight through her while his hand kept a tight hold on her throat, not giving (y/n) a chance to pull away. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” She didn’t dare protest, not when her orgasm was all too close. (Y/n)’s fingers found her heat, rubbing her bundle to make herself cum, while Tyler kept snapping his hips. Moans clawed through the both of them, filling the bathroom while she choked on his name, letting her orgasm wash through her.

“Cum inside of me, please.” It was all he needed to hear to fall over the edge, letting go with another raspy sound. He imprinted himself on her walls, clinging to her as both their bodies shook from the intensity of their orgasms, making them all too aware of how perfect they fit together. 

“If you always fuck like this, I will never leave this place willingly again.” (Y/n)’s confession drew a loud laugh out of Tyler. He pulled out of her while keeping a strong grip on her, only to pull her in for another sloppy kiss.

“Would that be so bad, sweetheart?”

[jscrawls]

Grave mistakes

Gotham City is full of a lot of characters, criminals, creepy clowns, man eating plants, eccentric billionaires. But all that rolled into one household?

Warning: contains mentions of blood, witchcraft, general spooky stuff, it's an Addams reader they're gonna be freaky,

Part 5: picking up a good read

🔹🔹🔹

Barbara was having a good day, she really was. the sun was out for once and the people in the library were all behaving themselves beautifully, as if infected by the warmth shining through the large windows. her coworker even brought her a caramel iced macchiato unprompted, Then you walked up to her.

She didn't mean to gawk at you, really. She's a professional after all. But she's heard a lot about you the last two weeks from multiple sources, from Cass expressing concern to dick ranting like you made an attempt on his life with your cooking.

She smiles thinly at you when you clear your throat, right, gaping at bystanders is rude.

“Ahem, how can I help you?” what could you possibly want at the library? Please don't start asking about something demonic or inappropriate-

“Hi, I'd like to check these out please.” They smile as they drop a few books on the counter and slide them within grabbing range, Barbara is averse to taking her eyes off you even as you stand there with an innocent, unfaltering grin, yet she forces herself to act normal as she grabs at the books and takes the brakes off her wheelchair…. Botany encyclopedias? Please don't be something nefarious-

“oh are you starting a garden? I tried that last spring, didn't go well.” it's a weak attempt at probing and she knows it, she just hopes it's not that obvious.

You pace the other side of the counter to keep even with her as she rolls over to the computer, still wearing that unnerving smile on your lips. “Something like that, my roommate is quite upset in my plant rearing abilities so I thought I'd do a little reading.”

Barbara knew you didn't have a ‘roommate’ as of two days ago, dick or Bruce would've noticed. How'd that change so fast?

“oh, that's nice of you…. You got plans for a bit of horticulture around your place then? I'm jealous at anyone with a green thumb honestly.”

She sets the books on the counter next to the computer, taking her sweet time to scan them just so she can try to squeeze anything out of you. You've been nothing but polite besides the creepy staring- yet she's more than suspicious of you, you're not just some rich goth with antisocial traits, God knows she's seen plenty of that around this city. you're….. Off. Maybe she's been around zatanna too much.

“maybe a few house plants.” Barbara almost sighs in relief at that.

“though my new roommate does seem fond of the carnivorous ones, she's already covered the front gate in some lovely meat eating fly traps.”

Barbara knew it was too soon to relax.

“Oh….. Sounds fascinating.” She's floundering a bit, her smile getting tighter as she grips the wheel bar tighter with one hand.

You smile wider, either happy with how the conversation is going or you're reveling in her discomfort. For whatever reason Barbara thinks you're somehow not picking up on it.

You reach into your pocket and Barbara tenses, eyes widening behind her glasses as she waits for you to pull something horrible. Instead you pull out a…coin? “Thank you very kindly my friend! Do you accept gold here?” Who the hell carries gold coins around-

“I…. I've never asked?” this isn't how she expected her afternoon to go, she doesn't want to call her supervisor to ask what the libraries stance on paying check outs with gold of all things. She just wanted to sort the last of her stacks and then go home and binge watch bridgerton until it was time for night activities.

“If it's a bother I'll go fetch my wallet my dear.” you lean against the edge of the counter with that same big stupid weirdly friendly smile on your face as you stare down at her.

that’s…..weirdly accomodating? barbara doesn’t see that much with the general public, she just hopes you’re not the type to pay with pennies next thing.

“….that would be appreciated, i don’t think we can process your……currency. sorry.” she tries not to wince as she speaks, watching you put the coins back in your pocket while she neatly stacks the books just so she has something to do with her hands, please stop staring at her.

“that’s perfectly alright! can i leave my books here or is there somewhere out of the way for them?” god barbara doesn’t want to be charmed by your politeness.

“here is fine, there isn’t exactly a line waiting on you…” you both glance around the library at that, this place doesn’t see much traffic on weekdays.

she watches you nod enthusiastically and turn to stroll out without another word, she only cringes a little when she watches you physically recoil when you walk out into the sunlight before continuing your little quest, god you’re like an awkward vampire. she waits until she’s sure you’re out of sight before pulling her phone out and sending a quick text to the groupchat, she doesn’t think you’ll try anything but she still wants to keep tabs on you. she quickly mutes her phone when she sees you coming back around the corner.

“so sorry for the inconvenience my friend!” you say a little too loudly, an old lady with a thick pair of bifocals and tight white curls loudly shushes you, barbara tries not to laugh as you whip around to stare at the woman and just as loudly apologize to her, the elder obviously flinches back from your appearance, she does a hail mary while turning around and shuffling away on clicking knees without another word to you.

barb almost pities you.

“anywho, about those books?” you turn back towards her and drop a hundred dollar bill on the counter between the both of you, that weird stare once again locked on her. barbara deadpans at the large bill.

“…..you know it’s a five dollar check out fee, right?”

“i’m well aware my good friend! i was under the impression tipping was still acceptable in new jersey.” barbara can’t tell if you’re snarking her under that painfully wide grin, once again she finds you almost endearing, maybe it’s just the money buttering her up.

“okay, funny. alright i’ll finish this up hang on…” she takes the brakes off and rolls over to the old register, a small smile on her face despite her initial dislike of you. being nice to public workers is a quick way to endear yourself to barb after all.

with the tip tucked in her pocket she bags the books up and watches you stroll towards the door, calling over your shoulder as you go. “bye have a terrible day my friend!” to the chagrin of many, multiple people shushing you as you duck back out the door.

“by lucifer this weather is absolutely horrid!”

this time barbara giggles as she watches you dramatically try to cover yourself from the sun, there’s something kinda entertaining about how….comfortable you are with yourself.

🔹🔹🔹

“repeat it.” Pamela stands over you with crossed arms and a sour expression on her face as she taps her shoe on the floor impatiently, Harleys doing something in the play room but all your focus is on the green-skinned woman in front of your sitting form.

“Don't feed saltwater to the plants.” You meet her eyes as you lean back against the couch and her expression hardens. “And?”

“Don't cut them down, and if I'm going to feed them blood and bones, ask you first so I don't give them too much nitrogen.”

You parrot her earlier yelled words dutifully, for a moment she looks as if she's going to scold you like a child but then she just sighs and nods her head. At least you were making an effort to listen to her, unlike some people in this house.

“good, as long as I see you actually following through with obeying then we'll have less problems.”

“ooh is someone getting the red special? I wanna watch!” Harley darts in the room and sits on the edge of the coffin-table, resting her elbows on her knees with a large grin on her face.

Pamela rolls her eyes as she glances back at her and points an accusing finger at her. “You're lucky you're not alongside them, I know you helped them feed my babies blood earlier. You two nearly made the ferns sick!”

although her words are just as harsh as she was with you earlier, her tone is much gentler with her girlfriend. You just sigh wistfully as you watch them while getting comfy.

“Ah, you two remind me of when I watched my dear Gomez and Morticia court each other. You'll be making sacred oaths in blood under the moonlight before you know it. I just hope I get to bring the ceremonial athame.” You wipe at your teary eyes while they both deadpan at you with varying degrees of annoyance.

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: apologies for how late this update is! Been a bit busy dealing with the bad weather in my area

Taglist: @lunarapple @ladykamos @itsberrydreemurstuff

[revelboo]

The dynamic between Reader and Megatron in Everything Is Alright is so delicious

Help Reader either way when they do finally meet carnally

I can see Megatron either being firm and dominant but not mean when he finally gets his chance

Or him melting at the touch of you and making love so sweetly and intimately

Either way he folds immediately when Reader advances their relationship 😜

He’s already lost this war, he just doesn’t realize it yet

Everything Is Alright Pt 142

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Letting himself into his habsuite, he hesitates before securing the door and heading for your tiny habitat. Kneeling he lets you slide out of his hand onto the second floor of the structure near the food prep area Swindle had acquired for him. And you glance up at him, expression unreadable before wandering deeper inside and he loses sight of you. Swindle had assured him that he’d found everything a human home should have. Everything you need. Venting softly, he glances at his closed door then at where you’d disappeared from sight.

• There’s a kitchen in here. With a fridge and appliances and a discordant bad feeling lifts through you as you reach out to touch what appears to be a kid’s drawing of a horse. Opening the fridge door, you see it’s full of food. And a half empty gallon of milk, a mostly empty bottle of ketchup, and a fast food container. This was someone’s. Heart racing, you shiver. “Did you hurt anyone when you stole this stuff?” Hoping no one was home and that they had really good insurance, because you doubt whoever he’d sent to fetch this stuff had mass shifted to get it. Most likely, they’d just ripped a wall off a house to get to the stuff inside.

• Mass shifting, he steps into the little habitat, heading up the stairs where he’d set you. And you’re standing in front of a rectangular storage device, holding a bit of paper. Doesn’t need to see your face to know you’re upset, it’s too obvious from your tone as he comes up behind you. Hates mass shifting, being so small and vulnerable. Aware that you’re still so much smaller than he is. “Swindle acquired it. I don’t know,” he admits and you spin, hip bumping against the counter. Startled to find him right behind you.

• How the heck can they move so quietly when they want to? Heart racing as he steps closer so your butt is against the counter, neck craning to watch his expression when he catches your wrist and lifts your arm. Studying the drawing in your hand and far too close to you. And you realize his servos overlap wrapped around your wrist, driving home how big he still is. “I don’t want you hurting someone else to get things for me,” you manage and those optics slide from the kid’s drawing to your face. This close, he looks so tired. Fingers itching to reach up and run your thumb under his optic and you shove the urge down. Because even if you’re bound to him, been in his memories, he’s still mostly a stranger to you.

• Those eyes. There are flecks of color in them he’s never noticed before. Close enough he can pick out individual stands of your hair, eyelashes, and he reaches with his free hand, servos tunneling into the softness of your hair. And your lips part. “Don’t mistake me, pet. I’ll do whatever I must to keep you alive,” he says, stepping closer so you’re caged against the counter by him. So he can feel your softness, your warmth against him. Won’t lie to you, won’t pretend to be tame for you. To be good. Because he’s not, isn’t even sure he can be anymore.

• His servos are in your hair, tipping your face up when he cups the back of your head and he’s pressed intimately against you. There’s a challenge in his optics, a hunger there and you know you should back down. Because he’s trying to provoke you. “You won’t hurt someone for my sake,” you counter and he growls, the low, rumbling sound humming through you to leave you breathless. Reminding you that this dangerous mech, the feared warlord, he’s yours. “I’d rather starve.”

• Head lowering, one corner of his mouth twitches at the challenge in your eyes. That defiance running like liquid fire through his lines straight to his spike. Has no idea if Swindle hurt anyone stealing these things for you, but he’d told the mech to be discreet, so must likely the dwelling was empty. But then, those humans are nothing to him. Insignificant insects. You’re the only one that matters. Lips almost brushing against yours, he vents. “You think I’d allow that, pet?”

• Hating yourself as your body heats and responds to him, to his deep voice. Wanting to close the distance and kiss him. Maybe bite his bottom lip for being a jerk. “I’m not yours,” you counter, knowing how big a lie it is. That you’re bonded to him for life, that you’re never escaping him. Taunting him with the fact that he’s not claimed all of you. Trying to provoke him, knowing the consequences. Wanting him. And he slowly smiles, expression almost predatory. Tensing when someone starts banging on the door and his face blanks, settling into that arrogant mask again.

• Almost falling inside when Megatron remotely opens the door, Starscream’s wings flick when he doesn’t see the warlord or you. Shutting the door behind him, he bends to look into the little habitat. And grits his denta to find Megatron glaring at him, pinning you to a counter. Mass shifting, he flits up into the miniature dwelling. Watching Megatron slide his hand down your spine, before tugging you to him and spinning you so your back is to his chassis and you drop a bit of paper you’d been clutching. One hand wrapped around your wrist as Megatron splays his other hand possessively on your lower belly. “Starscream,” Megatron growls. “This better be good. I’m busy.”

• Optics narrowing as he lowers his head to mouth at your throat, Megatron vents as Starscream’s wings flare. The Seeker’s expression sullen as he looks from you to him. Obviously hating his hands on you and wanting to rescue you, but not nearly as brave face to face with him. Making him want to provoke Starscream. To push harder and punish him for his hesitation. “I’m sure you have things to attend to,” the Seeker mutters, voice a low, angry rasp. And he slides his hand lower, servos teasing the waist of your coverings. Threatening to dip underneath and you grab his wrist with your free hand, but don’t try to stop him. “I can take our mate off your hands.”

• Poor Star, watching his wings trembling and flicking, you feel bad. Know he’s still worried Megatron might hurt you even though he’s bonded to you. That he can’t trust the warlord and you’ve been in his memories. Understand the pain and mistrust, don’t blame him for it. “I’m attending to what most needs my attention.” Megatron says, servos now under your pants and sliding lower as he needles Star. And you remember Soundwave pinning you against Starscream. Forcing him to accept that they’d both claimed you. Trapped between them both as they took turns with you. Lips parting as Megatron cups you to make you shiver, you lay your head back against Megatron. Let go of his wrist to reach for Starscream. ‘Star?’ Hear Megatron growl softly, the noise a warning you ignore.

Previous

Next

[muwapsturniolo]

Lovers Rock ₊˚⊹♡ M. Sturniolo

"Y-yeah, I want to kiss you."

⟢ mentions of drinking, parties, smoking, longing, loner!Matt, trouble! Reader, kissing, that's it, I think.

PT. 1

She was a drug.

Everything, from her clothes to the way she saw him, clouded his mind, infiltrating his senses—he couldn't get her out of his head.

He was addicted, and he needed another fix.

Chris was shocked when Matt started attending more and more parties, tagging along every weekend and putting on his best outfit. He'd watch the way Matt would sit on the couches or stand in the corner, nursing an Angry Orchard as his eyes darted around the scene.

It was like he was waiting for something—or someone.

He wanted to question him, demand a reason as to why he was suddenly attending parties and leaving the house, but he bit his tongue.

For the longest time, Chris had tried to get Matt out of his shell, inviting him to places and eventually forcing him to go. Now Matt was willingly going, and Chris didn’t want to ruin it.

"Whose party is this again?" Matt questioned as he followed the GPS, making a left turn when instructed. In the passenger seat, Chris tapped away on his phone, fully immersed in the small device.

"I’m not sure. Iris said it was her friend’s house, Trouble or something. Never met the person, but I heard her New Year's parties are—"

Matt tuned Chris out, his palms adjusting on the steering wheel as they grew sweaty. Much like the ones in the sky, he could feel the fireworks in his stomach, his body buzzing with nervousness.

After endless parties for weeks on end, he finally got to see her again.

Trouble.

Before he knew it, he was parking behind a few cars and walking down the concrete path, soon entering the backyard.

It seemed like one of those coming-of-age movies—people laughing and talking around the bonfire, drinks in hand. The naked trees had fairy lights strung around them, letting off a warm glow and creating a peaceful atmosphere. The house sat right in front of a lake, a dock attached, as well as a boat.

His admiration was interrupted by a drink being shoved into his hand by Chris. "Sorry, bro, no Angry Orchards. You're stuck with the hard stuff tonight!" Matt examined the red Solo cup, bringing it to his nose and sniffing, only to jerk back when the scent burned his nostrils. Chris cackled loudly, clapping his hands together in enjoyment.

"What the hell is this?"

"Don’t know, but drink up! It’s New Year’s!"

Matt looked back down at the cup, staring at his dark reflection.

Fuck it.

Chris cheered as Matt took a sip, laughing and clapping him on the back. "Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ bout!"

With that being said, the night was a whirlwind—endless drinking, people stripping and running into the freezing lake, and much more.

Matt could feel his head spinning, his vision hazy. He mumbled to himself as he fell into one of the many chairs, leaning back and sighing out, closing his eyes in relief.

"Hey, Blue..."

His eyes darted open, his head whipping to the side at the melodic voice.

There she was, all in her glory—Trouble.

"Got a vape?" she asked, just like she did the first time they met. It took a second for him to respond, his eyes fluttering rapidly before he finally spoke.

"N-no... It died today, and I couldn’t get another before Chris and I left... I brought my cigs though. Want one?"

He reached into his pocket, fetching the pack of Marlboro Reds and holding them out. She eyed the small box before plucking one from the pack and settling down in the chair next to him.

"Got a light?"

She leaned in, watching the flame dance in front of her as he lit the cigarette. She inhaled the smoke before blowing it out, mumbling a small "thanks" before gazing out toward the water.

"So..." Matt started, his mind trying to find the right words to say. She said nothing, simply smoking the cigarette and continuing to stare out toward the lake.

"You weren't at the last few parties."

"Correct."

"Why?"

She finally turned toward him, eyeing him up and down before responding. "The real question is, why were you at the parties? Last time I checked, you didn’t like them."

He went to answer but closed his mouth. How was he supposed to say, "Oh, I was only going because I believe I have a crush on you, even though we barely know each other," without sounding like an absolute freak?

She chuckled to herself, a small smile making its way across her face as she looked back at the lake. However, as quickly as the smile graced her face, it fell.

"You want to know the truth?"

She took another hit of the nicotine before answering her own question.

"The truth is... I hate parties. Most people see them as a fun group activity. At one point, I did too. But now... now it’s just a taunt, a painful reminder... I meant it when I said I see you."

A thick silence sat between them, the background noise turning into muffled static.

She looked down, feeling Matt's hand settle on top of her own, their eyes soon meeting.

"I see you too..."

He wasn’t lying, and she knew that.

Their moment was interrupted by shouting. "Ten minutes until countdown!" Everyone began to shout in joy, the noise only getting louder. The girl ashed the cigarette before standing up from her seat, looking down at him.

"You cold, Blue?"

He nodded, and she motioned for him to stand up. "Come on, let’s go."

He was curious as to where she wanted to take him, but he wasn’t complaining. He stood up, and his eyes widened as soon as his body began to tilt, the alcohol in his system hitting him all at once.

She caught him immediately, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as she steadied him. "Whoa, looks like someone had too much to drink." Despite the pounding headache he had, he chuckled at her words.

"Definitely too drunk to drive tonight. Come on, let’s get you somewhere so you can sober up."

Everyone paid them no mind as they walked toward the house, too distracted by their own actions to even care. They stepped inside, and she guided Matt up the stairs, down a hallway, and eventually into her room.

She helped him onto her bed, the boy kicking off his shoes and immediately slumping over into her pillows. She said nothing as she walked over toward her record player in the corner, flipping through her vinyls before finally settling on one. Just as she put it on the turntable, she heard Matt's voice.

"Will your boyfriend be mad?"

"Boyfriend? What boyfriend? And if I did have one, why would he be mad?"

She sat crisscrossed in the middle of the bed, her knee pressing into his hip. "The guy who grabbed you from the bathroom? Thought that was your boyfriend."

She laughed loudly at his explanation. "Kyle? Oh god, no, that’s just my best friend. I’d rather go see JoJo Siwa in concert than date him."

Matt's breath hitches as the girl lays down next to him, their shoulders touching.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, his mouth moving before his mind could stop him.

"Good."

"What's good?"

She turns her head to look at him, their eyes meeting once again.

"That you don't have a boyfriend..."

Their eye contact remains strong as their fingers hesitantly intertwine, the tension in the room growing with each breath. Just as Matt's eyes dart toward her lips, she abruptly sits up, her hand yanking away from his as she goes back into the corner, flipping through her vinyls once more.

Matt pushes himself up, his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to make his move.

She places a new vinyl on the turntable, adjusting the needle on the record before walking back over to the bed. The familiar tune of Fall Out Boy's "The Kids Aren't Alright" fills the space of the room, the faint start of the New Year's countdown being heard from outside.

"I like this song..." she says softly, taking Matt's hand and fiddling with his rings. He moves closer, their shoulders knocking into each other.

10

"Do you want to kiss me?" she asks suddenly, her eyes lingering on his lips as she looks at him.

9

He could feel the way his heart skipped a beat at her words, his fingers twitching in her grasp as he looked down at her own plump lips.

8

"Y-yeah."

7

"Y-yeah, I want to kiss you."

6

"Good..."

5

"Good," Matt adds on.

4

Silence.

3

"As the crooked smiles fade, former heroes who quit too late..."

2

"Who just wanna fill up the empty trophy case again."

1

"And in the end—"

Just as the countdown finishes and the chorus starts, their lips crash together, the fireworks shooting off behind them. The kiss was filled with longing, the two lonely souls seeking comfort in each other, craving something more.

They slowly pull away from the kiss, Matt’s hand cupping her face.

"Why'd you ask to kiss me?" he questions softly.

"Are you complaining?"

"Opposite, actually."

She kisses him once more, a quick but lingering peck.

"It's a foolish reason... I'm afraid I just wanted to."

[giuseppe-yuki]

🍕 pizza delivery 🍕

frat boy!logan sargeant x pizza delivery driver!reader

w.c.: 1.6k

warnings: like, two curse words. that's it.

summary: logan hunter sargeant from alpha phi kappa either really fucking likes pizzas or has a big fat crush on you. maybe both.

picture credits from pinterest :)

honestly, was prema’s pizza that good? sure, it might have been made with sauce from vine-picked tomatoes, hand-grated cheese, and italian-sourced pepperonis, but was it good enough for someone to order a grand total of fifty pizzas within a five day period? probably not. 

still, you stand corrected, because the unmistakable order receipt, a carbon copy of the one from yesterday, again, states the same order: 10 x-large pepperoni pizza - extra cheese.

it cannot be healthy eating this many pizzas per day. 

nevertheless, you hurriedly rip the receipt from prema pizza’s tiny, half-broken printer and head past the front of house towards the kitchen to fetch the order to deliver. the yeasty smell of fresh dough and aroma of garlic bread intensifies as you slide between a few employees and squeeze into the kitchen. to your surprise, a neat stack of exactly ten pizza boxes are placed on the counter, along with a sticky note with your name on it. 

frederik, one of the longtime pizza makers, nods his head in greeting at you before pointing towards the stack. 

“arthur told me to tell you that he stacked all of your orders over there before he clocked out for the day,” frederik notes, before turning back to rolling out the pizza dough. there’s somehow a glob of dough in his hair and flour in the shape of a hand imprint on his back, but you pretend you don’t notice.

instead, you beam at him and give him a mock salute. 

“thanks, fred!” you respond. “it’s actually just one whole order, though.”

he whips around, brow wrinkled.

“one order?? who hell is this guy??”

you shrug, and instead turn your attention to shoving as many pizza boxes as you can into one warmer bag. as hard as you try, you can probably get a max of three in the bag. 

“eh, don’t remember his name.” you say dismissively. “kinda cute, blonde hair, blue eyes? he’s been ordering the same thing for the past five days, though.” 

frederik wipes his dough-covered hands on his apron before snatching up the receipt you set on the counter. 

nosy fuck.

“okay, well, why is this kinda-cute, blonde hair, blue eyed-” he squints at the name on the paper- “logan sargeant possibly having a twenty person pizza party every day?” 

oscar, the main cook, stops his rapid throwing of pizzas into the oven and perks up when hears the name.

“logan sargeant?” he asks, head tilted in question. “i swear he’s in my tuesday morning english lectures- i’m kind of mates with him. he’s literally so american, though. perhaps that’s why he’s obsessed with pizzas- all that typical american culture and stuff.” 

frederik “hmms”, tapping his chin exaggeratedly.

“i think, he has a big fat crush on our little pizza delivery girl here- why else would he order, like, a billion pizzas? plus, it’s not like oscar here does our pizzas any justice when he’s out here hurtling ingredients onto pizzas then shoving them into the oven at top speeds.”

you roll your eyes before snatching the receipt back from frederik. 

“you don’t get to have an opinion on anything pizza related- we still remember you’re a psycho who likes pineapple on pizza,” you shoot back. 

oscar laughs at your words and throws a handful of flour from the dough board at frederik’s head.  

“yeah, fred, pineapple on pizza is a crime, mate.”

by the time you split up fred and oscar from having a full blown fight with the pizza ingredients, shove all the pizza boxes into your warmer bags, and arrive at the allotted house, you are sure you are about to get yelled at by kinda-cute-logan-sargeant for being late with his absurd amount of pizzas. 

the warmer bags weigh down your arms and you basically teeter towards the door that has the same ugly hand-painted, peeling sign that you had eyed up the first time you delivered the pizzas. it crudely labels the house as the frat house “alpha phi kappa.” you take account the other things on the porch as you wait-

three empty beer bottles. 

one tattered miami dolphins’ football flag.

two beat-up traffic cones. 

one upside down, dusty, motorcycle-looking helmet with a giant american flag printed on the side.

four broken string lights + one working string light.

one questionably green couch that had a giant spring coming ou-

the door creaks open suddenly and the porch light comes on, effectively startling you and blinding you at the same time.

a guy with bleached-blonde hair sticks his head out, eyeing you wearily. one of his eyebrows has a sharp slit in his eyebrow, leaving a clean gap in the arch. 

“yeah?” he asks, as if you haven’t been at this god forsaken frat house for the now-fifth time in a row.

“oh-” you stutter out. “i’m- i’m here with your pizzas? um, for logan?” 

he breaks out in a wide grin immediately, before shoving the door open with a bang. 

“oh, well why didn’t you say so?” he jokes, tilting his head to the side. he pats his forest-green hoodie, obviously looking for his phone, but when he comes up with nothing, he lift one finger towards you. 

“give me one second, let me get logan for you,” he says, before bolting away.

the door is still wide open, so you just stand there uncomfortably in the open doorway. you can literally see their entire floorplan, from the semi-trashed living room to the cluttered kitchen, to even the backyard sliding door that leads to a glowing swimming pool. a dude you are pretty sure is franco from your mechanical physics class stalks by the stairwell next the door, sipping something that looks suspiciously like maté. you give him an awkward wave that he returns.

a minute later, the blonde guy thunders down the stairs, dragging a concerningly red-faced, kinda-cute-logan with him.

“okay, here’s logan for ya,” the guy says, beaming once more, before full-on galloping back up the stairs. 

“al-right,” you drag out. tearing your eyes away from whatever that was, you face logan, who has somehow turned more red than before. “your pizza?” 

you slide all ten boxes towards him, making sure to open the lid of the first one to show him pizza one of ten that was handcrafted to meet his specific needs- x-large pepperoni with extra cheese.

logan barely looks at the pizza before giving you a quick thumbs up. 

“yeah, that’s um, perfect! you know me too well, haha.” 

you begin to see where this is going. maybe frederik was right.

raising an eyebrow, you nod. 

“well, considering this is your fifth consecutive order in a five day period…yeah.”

logan leans against the doorframe, obviously trying to look cool. 

“what can i say? your pizza is.. um… top-tier. like if it was a race, it would go, like first place podium over all the other pizza places.” 

before you can respond, a car swerves into the driveway of the frat house. a guy with the fluffiest brown hair you have ever seen climbs out the car. when he sees you with the pile of pizzas in the doorway with logan next to you, a devilish grin spreads across his face. 

“ah, it’s the pizza delivery girl, eh, cabrón?” he remarks to logan. turning to you, he cups a hand dramatically around his mouth like he was telling a secret. “did logan here tell you about his pizza shrine?” he asks, before squeezing past the two of you into the house. 

logan’s eyes widen almost immediately.

“CARLOS, no-”

 a what? 

this must be a joke, right?

alas, when you tilt your head into the doorway, past logan who was trying to look inconspicuous, you spot it. 

a corner of the freaking frat house was turned into a pizza shrine. each one had multiple sticky notes on them, one of them reading: “great delivery today, she smiled at me.” and “her laugh is cute.” in scrawled, messy handwriting. 

ok, frederik was definitely right.

“so, uh… do you typically do this with all your pizza delivery girls?” you interrogate, fighting back a smile. 

logan looks at you with visible panic. 

“wait, wait, i can explain!”

carlos, or whatever his name is, yells from inside the house. 

“HE EVEN FRAMED THE RECEIPT FROM THE FIRST TIME YOU DELIVERED! IT’S ABOVE THE FIREPLACE!”

the blonde in front of you huffs, one hand covering his face in embarrassment. 

“i’m gonna kill him,” he mutters. 

you laugh at his reaction, feeling oddly endeared by the presence of the literal shrine and apparent framed receipt atop the frat house fireplace.

“do you even like prema pizza?” you gently question.

logan scratches his head sheepishly. 

“i mean, the pizza is cool an all that, but like, you’re like, um, cooler.”

well, logan couldn’t be more apparent. if he wasn’t going to make a move, though, you would. you couldn’t keep making pizza deliveries forever. 

you pull out your phone. 

“if you, you know, ever want to hang out- without the pizza excuse, just text me okay?” 

logan looks like he’s about to implode. 

he nods aggressively, before taking at least two tries to type his phone number with the speed he’s trying to input his contact info. 

“a pizza shrine??” arthur shouts, voice blaring from your phone. “ugh!! why do i always miss these things when i go home! -and then what happened?”

frederik laughs from his spot next to oscar, huddled close in a semi-circle around you in the dark, the only light coming from the call on your phone.

“and then, he gave her his number, that’s what, arthur. because i was right!” frederik trills, leaping around the just-cleaned kitchen of the empty pizzeria. “i just knew that it wasn’t because he liked the pizzas here.” 

oscar rolls his eyes. 

“well, i’m just saying it could be a factor, frederik.”

just then, your phone lights up with a ding.

logan 🇺🇸🍕: are you down for a pizza date? i actually do really like prema pizza.

oscar leaps up with a celebratory shriek, directed at frederik.

“ha! i was right too!”

general taglist: @ellelabelle @n0vazsq

[op1umeyes]

— Revenge Sex

🏵️ — synopsis. James cheated. Remus is pissed off with some of James’s recent decisions. To get back at James (and because he likes you), Remus has sex with you.

🏵️ — warnings. Badly written smut. Weird plot. Pet names (pretty girl, darling). James is an absolute douche in this.

🏵️ — author’s note. I AM DOGSHIT AT WRITING SMUT. Wrote this on a whim. God bless. Hope this is okay.

   It had been twelve days since you last saw James with his lips locked to some Huffleslut.

   Twelve days of incessant badgering, pleading, apologies, and words words words. All in-person, all irritating.

   Of course, today was no different. It had started with James ambushed you by slinging his arm over your shoulder when you stepped out of your house entrance. You shoved him away and kept walking with your friends to the Great Hall.

   “Y/n! Wait up!” James called. You groaned in annoyance and walked faster with determination. He was the one that cheated! Why did he continue to follow you around?

   His hand closed on your shoulder and he bent over to catch his breath. “Y/n, please just listen to what I have to say-“

   You whipped around, anger evident in your eyes. “No, James Fleamont Potter. You listen to me. You cheated, not me. Clearly I wasn’t a good girlfriend and wanted to throw away a relationship for someone who just wanted to sleep with the popular guy. I don’t care. And before you start that ‘Oh! But y/n, I love you!’” You upped the pitch of your voice and brought your hands up. “That’s obviously a lie. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have even considered looking at that no-good, yellow-wearing, dirty rotten Hufflepuff slut! So just leave me the fuck alone!” You took a step back, pleasantly surprised when James didn’t move. “Thank you.”

   You felt bad for not feeling guilty, but… you didn’t cheat. He did.

— 🏵️

   “Hi. Don’t get up. Please.”

   You looked up. In front of you stood the infamous Remus Lupin. Confusion painted your face: what on Earth could he possibly want? “I… okay? What do you want?”

   Remus sighed and scratched his head. His face screwed up in pain from reach up for his head. You knew why. After two and a half years of dating someone, you get to know their friends well. Honestly, Remus was probably one of the best friends you’d ever had. You both got along well and he wasn’t two faced. “This is gonna sound really weird, but… I want to get back at James.”

   You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth and nodded. Pulling it back with a ‘click’, you tilted your head. “Why are you telling me this, Remus? I want nothing to do with him.”

   “That’s the thing,” Remus went on. “He’s been a real prick lately to everyone and has been lashing out. Saying things, doing things. I’m tired of it, Sirius is tired of it- Merlin, Peter barely talks to us anymore since James… y’know…”

   “So… you want me to…?”

   “Sleep with me.”

   Your mouth dropped open. Your face went slack and you stared at the man in front of you. There wasn’t anything that would make you not want to sleep with him. He was actually extremely good looking. Girls complained abut the scars, but you thought they suited him, made him stand out, and give him that ‘don’t mess with me’ energy. “Uh.” Blubbering like an idiot in front of James’s hot friend wasn’t a very comforting thought.

   “You can say no. I understand why you wouldn’t,” Remus shrugged. “I wanted to really lay it on him and stuff but if you don’t want-“

   “Fuck yes,” your muttered. “Sure. Anything. I don’t care.”

   Swallowing, Remus examined you closely. “Really? I don’t want you to feel pressure or anything.”

   “Remus, I want to. Now that you mention it, I kinda want to get some revenge on Potter,” you trailed off. “What better revenge then with his best looking mate?”

   Remus scoffed. “‘Best looking’ is far fetched, but I’ll take it. When do you want to…?”

   “Does now work?”

   A small laugh escaped Remus’s laugh at your coy expression. Your head was tilted dangerously and the corner of your lip was raised just so. Remus would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of you in un-platonic ways while you were dating James, but wouldn’t dare saying anything. Now that James went and fucked up, what better way to get James back and indulge himself in you then now? “My dorm or yours?”

   You accepted Remus’s outstretched hand and stepped closer to him. Hand pressing into the soft fabric of his shirt. “Might not make it to a dorm,” you mused, letting your hand trail down. “Mine. Girls like to gossip. Guarantee that Potter’ll hear the news before you even finish.”

   Remus’s jaw twitched at your touch, feeling his muscles flutter under your hand. “Lead the way,” he rasped, hand wrapping around yours.

—🏵️

   Remus barely had time to close the door before you pulled his face down to yours, capturing his lips with yours. You scrambled to unbutton his trousers as he fumbled to undo your bra clasp. When both items were gone and your shirts were shed, Remus picked you up and let your hands grab his face as he made his way to the delightfully large bed. Perks of being a prefect, apparently.

   You yelped when Remus dropped you on the bed. He turned his attention to your pants, pulling them off and tossing them away. He smiled at the wet patch on your cotton underwear. “Who turned you on that much, y/n?”

   “You, you fucker,” you replied snarkily.

   Remus’s brows quirked. “I am a fucker, aren’t I? ‘M gonna be fuckin’ a girl this pretty. Not something I’m embarrassed about,” he said. You would have replied if he hadn’t dropped to his knees and pulled you towards the edge of the bed like a feather. Remus rubbed a thumb from the top of your clothed cunt to the end of the stain of arousal in your underwear. You twitched. “Like that, pretty girl?”

   “I was promised a fuck, Remus Lupin,” you complained, failing to hide the breathlessly and need in your voice. You can’t remember the last time James did more than buty his dick in you for more than three minutes.

   Remus pressed featherlight kisses to the cloth covering your soaked cunt. “Don’t get snippy. You’ll get what you were promised,” he grumbled.

   You ground your molars together to avoid sqealing when Remus pried away your underwear and drove his tongue into your pussy. With nothing but the bed to grasp, you threaded your hands into Remus’s hair. He groaned at the feeling and sent leg twitching vibrations through you. “Fuck Remus,” you spat.

   The dickhead just hummed. He moved his hands so you were pressed down by his left arm. Remus’s right pointer finger came to tease the entrance of your pussy, his tongue tracing your clit. As anticipated, you jerked at the stimulation. Remus watched you body shudder as he slipped his finger inside you, taking care to memorize how you looked from this angle. His finger curled and you jerked, a ragged moan drawn from your lips.

   Remus fingered you good, you thought through a clouded mind. His fingers where long enough to find where you needed him without much time, and he seemed more than ready to give you what you needed. 

   “So good, Remus,” you moaned out, back arching into his mouth. “Fuck! Right there Rem, please,” you pleaded mindlessly, eyes screwed shut. Remus slipped a second finger into you, chuckling lowly at your breathless gasp.

   It wasn’t long before you came on Remus’s face. Your cunt fluttered around Remus’s fingers and your hands gripped his hair hard. You came with a loud moan that sounded better than Remus imagined. Your voice trailed off and your breath hitched as Remus let you ride out your orgasm, drinking everything you gave him.

   When you laid slack on the bed, Remus pulled his fingers out of you with a lewd squelch. He licked them while you watched his lust filled eyes take in your naked form. “You taste amazing,” Remus said, pulling his cum soaked boxers off of his throbbing boner. “Can’t believe anyone would ever think of leaving you, pretty girl.”

   Remus crawled on top of you, turning your head to press his lips to yours in an oddly intimate kiss. He tastes like you. “You ready for my dick, pretty? Or are you too tired?”

   You scoffed at Remus’s last question. “Don’t insult me like that, Lupin,” you muttered. You wrapped a leg around his back and looked between the two of you. “Fuck me already.”

   Remus adjusted his hips, hesitant to bury his aching cock into you- raw. “Do you want me to wear a condom?”

   “I have potions,” you answered, bucking your hips, teasing the head of Remus’s cock. “Don’t make me beg.”

   “I’d actually love to see you beg, pretty girl,” Remus mused, sinking down into your needy pussy. He dropped his forhead into your shoulder as you let out a strangled moan at the penetration. “You’re so tight, y/n,” Remus rasped. “Squeezin’ me like I was made for you.”

   Your hands came to grip his shoulder, biting down your mewls. “Please Rem,” you begged, sucking bruises into his skin. “Please.”

   Remus started moving his hips. He knew he wouldn’t last long but the way your chest shuddered and how tight you were squeezing him, you probably wouldn’t last long either. “So tight, darling,” he grunted, snapping his hips roughly into you.

   Your mouth fell open as you wrapped your legs around his waist, doing anything to to be as close to him as possible. “I need it, Remmy, please,” you sobbed, bringing him down to swallow your screams with feverishly hot kisses.

   Of course, Remus complied. The lewd sound of your cunt swallowing Remus’s cock mixed with the sounds of your mewls and muffled moans was a beautiful mixture of sounds Remus tried to commit to memory. You gripped him like a vice, digging your nails into his skin with each thrust. “That’s a good girl,” Remus grunted as his pelvis met yours. You shook under him, eyes searching his. “Takin’ everything I’m giving you… so good for me,” Remus babbled.

   You nodded, pressing your nose into Remus’s skin- anything to be consumed by him. “Please, Remus, I’m gonna cum. I need to cum, I need-“

   “I know, pretty girl. I know. Cum around my cock, yeah? Be a good girl for me and cum,” he growled, burying himself deep inside you. You came with a loud moan, burying your sobbing face into Remus’s shoulder. His hot seed flooded your pussy, filling you with him. You whimpered and tightened your legs around him.

   “Holy Merlin,” you whispered, thighs twitching as cum ran down your thighs.

   “Remus is fine,” the lycanthrope replied wittily.

   Your chuckled and let your head fall back on the bed as you caught your breath. “Shut up and take care of me,” you chuckled. “Please.”

   Remus’s eyes softened. “Since you asked so nicely.”

bonus: James’s Reaction

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 1.7k ⇢ genre: fluff, very suggestive (no smut but discussions about/implied sleeping together lol), strangers to one night stand to coworkers to lovers? lmao i think i got that progression right, holiday/christmas themed, sleeping with a hot stranger at the office holiday party when you’re tipsy and oops it turns out they’re your new coworker trope, part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: cursing, just look at the tags and decide if u want to read on tbh. honestly this has probably more horny energy than is warranted for it having zero smut lol ⇢ extra info: this was originally going to continue on after this ending but i ended up feeling like i was losing the plot, so the other stuff i was writing is going to be a separate fic. they’re not a part 1/part 2 at all, but you can kinda see the vision if u read both i think this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: uhm so surprise hallmark movie marathon for jisung this year i guess! i did this last year where i had a(n unplanned) series of short fics with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises all starring kun and i guess i’m in my jisung era rn! so enjoy and happy holidays! ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

“I meant I usually wouldn’t have been looking to get laid at the office holiday party at all for this exact reason!” You whispered emphatically. “Except I already felt bad about myself because I got stood up, and I was tipsy, so I ended up throwing myself at the hottest stranger I could find. God, of course it bit me in the fucking ass.”

“Here. Fresh pot.” A cup of coffee was set on your desk in front of your face by Jaemin, as your other coworker Jeno helped himself to the bowl of peppermints perched on your desk.

“Are you seriously hungover?” Jeno snickered as you pulled your head out of your arms. “You left the holiday party like two hours early.”

You glared at him, taking a timid sip from the steaming cup.

“Smart choice, really, you got to miss Mr. Suh’s rendition of Santa Baby,” Jaemin informed you, hopping up on your desk and knocking your keyboard askew.

You rolled your eyes as you moved your things out of his way.

“Were we that boring? You didn’t even say bye or—”

Your gaze lazily drifted around the floor before you inhaled and immediately choked on the too-hot coffee, spitting it back out into the cup as it burned your tongue.

“Are you okay?” Jeno asked, his words garbled as he talked around the peppermint in his mouth.

“Ack—Fine,” you coughed, eyes still tracking the man who had stepped off the elevator with your boss. “Who’s that? With Mr. Suh?”

They both turned around to follow your line of sight curiously. Mr. Suh seemed to be giving him a tour, gesturing to various areas of the floor as he spoke.

Jaemin guessed, “Uh… transfer from the satellite office, maybe? I think I saw him at the party last night.”

“Oh yeah, Mr. Suh mentioned we were getting a transfer a couple weeks ago,” Jeno nodded. “That must be him.”

You quickly diverted your gaze as they changed trajectory towards your desk.

“And over here, as you can see, people tend to congregate around Y/N’s area,” Mr. Suh explained to the man with him, his tone playful. He fetched a peppermint from the bowl. “It’s the candy.”

“Good morning, Mr. Suh,” you greeted him, sitting up straight.

“She’s also my best employee, so I excuse it,” he continued.

“Jeno and I are right here,” Jaemin pointed out indignantly.

“This is Park Jisung, he started at the satellite office a couple months ago and is transferring to our team now,” Mr. Suh made introductions, not addressing your coworker’s complaints. “Jisung, this is Lee Jeno, Y/L/N Y/N, and Na Jaemin. You’ll come to know the rest of the team as well, but Y/N will handle your initial training as you settle in.”

Your alarm must have been visible on your face, as your boss’ features turned concerned. “Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“W-Well,” you began panicking even more, looking around at the folders on your desk. “It’s just that you said that the Q4 reports were top priority, and I don’t believe that I’ll be able to complete those on time to standard and train somebody thoroughly at the same time. Sir.”

Mr. Suh nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. My apologies. Jaemin: I’ll leave Jisung to you then.”

“Second choice,” Jaemin tsked as you were using all your willpower not to audibly sigh in relief.

“How do you think I feel?” Jeno joked.

“Let me know if you have any questions, Jisung. We’re excited to have you on our team,” Mr. Suh smiled kindly.

Jisung finally spoke, his deep voice shooting up your spine. “Thank you, sir.”

As they all dispersed from your desk, you finally relaxed just a tiny bit. Until you felt a pair of eyes on you. You looked up just in time to catch Jisung’s gaze as he glanced at you over his shoulder as he followed Jaemin to his desk. You froze, unable to look away from those same eyes that just last night had stared into yours while—

Your phone ringing made you jump out of your skin, and you swore under your breath as you looked at the name on the screen. Reception.

“This is Y/N,” you answered, trying to keep your voice level.

“Oh!” Your receptionist gasped. “Sorry, wrong extension!”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, hanging up.

Time to do a very careful review of the Q4 reports that you already had finished.

Midday, Jaemin and Jeno stopped by your desk again, Jisung in tow.

“We’re taking Jisung out to lunch. You coming?” Jaemin offered.

You didn’t even spare the new employee another glance, staring at your computer monitor. “Thanks, but uh, maybe another time, guys. Have fun.”

“Alright, see you later,” Jeno shrugged and stole another peppermint.

You didn’t breathe until the elevator doors closed behind them. Once they were gone, you grabbed your purse and headed for the stairs to take your own lunch break.

As soon as the clock struck 5:00, you were gone. Mr. Suh had already sent out an invite for a team dinner at the end of next week to welcome Jisung, but tonight, you could at least leave. Hurrying into the stairwell, you made a rather embarrassing sound when you were face-to-face with Jisung on the other side, leaning against the railing, hands tucked into his slacks.

The door had already closed behind you, and he spoke before you could back out.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said plainly.

You huffed, hurrying past him to descend the stairs. “Can you blame me?”

He kept pace with you easily thanks to his long legs. “I mean, obviously I didn’t expect you to bring it up in front of everybody, but a hello would’ve been nice.”

“How quaint after your tongue was down my throat last night.”

“Pretty sure my tongue was other places too—”

“Okay, okay!” You hissed, screeching to a halt on the landing between floors to slap a hand over his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you over your hand as you continued ranting quietly. “Seriously, how was I supposed to react when you showed up today? And how are you so normal?”

Jisung slowly reached up and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand off his mouth so he could talk. “I was surprised too, okay? But I was planning on at least being civil, except you never gave me the opportunity. I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad, right? You were awfully loud.”

“Pot, kettle,” you retorted. You yanked your arm from his grasp, suddenly aware of how close you were. “I was tipsy, got stood up by my date, and thought you were somebody’s plus-one. What’s your excuse?”

“Okay, ouch.” He put a hand over his chest. “I might’ve been a little less than sober and didn’t exactly consider the possibility that I would be transferring to your team of all people, but you weren’t a pity fuck, Y/N.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you groaned, your skin getting warm. You pivoted on your heel, rushing downstairs again.

Jisung just followed you, of course. “Then what did you mean?”

“I meant I usually wouldn’t have been looking to get laid at the office holiday party at all for this exact reason!” You whispered emphatically. “Except I already felt bad about myself because I got stood up, and I was tipsy, so I ended up throwing myself at the hottest stranger I could find. God, of course it bit me in the fucking ass.”

“I thought you were really smart.” Jisung’s sincere words caught you off-guard. “I mean, I know neither of us were all there, but you seemed to really know a lot about your job. And you were funny. Obviously hot too, I mean, whoever stood you up was a fucking—”

You pushed him against the wall by his shoulders, not covering his mouth now, but just staring him in the eye. The exit door of the stairwell was right next to you, which would lead into the employee parking under the building. Most employees took the elevators, so it was only the two of you.

“What do you want from me?” You asked him, eyes narrowed.

“What do you want?” He challenged, eyes glinting as he looked down at you.

Memories of last night that you had been trying to push away all day flooded your mind now. Jisung’s lips on yours, on your neck, collarbones, his deft fingers unzipping your dress so his big hands could caress your bare skin. You had worn red lip gloss to the party, and it looked so pretty scattered across his chest and abdomen.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Jisung murmured, hands finding familiar holds on your hips, fingertips lining up to the bruises they’d left without even looking. “If it’ll be even better sober? Because I am…”

His pupils were blown, his breaths shallow and quick as his gaze flitted from your lips to eyes. Despite apparently being able to read your mind, he was still gauging your reaction, waiting to see if he’d crossed a line. Acknowledging what had already happened was one thing, suggesting a repeat was a whole other story.

Fuck it.

You nodded quickly, dropping your hands from his shoulders. “Is your car here?”

“I—Fuck, yeah.” He dug into his pants pocket for his keys as he grabbed the exit door with the other.

“Mm,” you sighed in content as Jisung pressed lazy kisses down your spine. “You were right.”

“Oh? About what?” He asked humorously, resting his cheek on your shoulder blade, mimicking your own position with your cheek squished against his pillow.

“It was even better sober.”

He laughed, running his hand down your arm to lace his fingers with yours. “I love when a hypothesis works out.”

You looked at where your linked hands rested on the mattress next to you, how natural it looked. It wasn’t the first time you held hands, tonight or last night. But it was the first time you’d done so when you weren’t in the act. Somehow, it felt even more intimate.

“What do you want from me?” You asked quietly, talking to your hands. That was easier than turning around.

“What do you want?” His voice was soft and gentle, patient yet at the same time, you could sense the underlying anxiety in the question.

You couldn’t take it, needing to see. Letting go of his hand, you turned over in his arms. When you met his eyes, you felt like you were looking at something you shouldn’t. Like he was letting you, hardly more than stranger, cradle his heart in your hands.

“I want more,” you confessed. “I-I don’t know if this is a good idea, it probably isn’t, but—”

“Okay.” He nodded quickly.

“Okay?”

“I can work with that,” he said, cupping the back of your head and kissing you again.

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

[shootingstargirl2001]

here comes my request storm (don't start to feel like you have to finish them soon like you can take your time!!)

Sooo knight percy x reader where his favorite person/ thing is his princesses cause imagine, reader askes what's your favorite thing and he's like "you"

Knight!percy x princess!reder

Warnings: Allusions to sex,undressing (to get changed)

“Princess,” He calls out as you sit on the ground in the garden, spinning a plucked flower between your fingers. “Here,” you half yell in response, not really paying attention , more focused on flower. You hear the sound of soft footsteps and gently clanking armour.

Looking up from the flower, the sight of your favorite knight fills your sight, “Hi percy,” you hum. “hello princess” he says calmly, a hint of amusmeant in his voice at your admiration with the flower. He sits down next to you (well…squats since hes in full armour with sword) with a huff.

A soft smile graces his lips as he watches you beging to braid(?) some flowers into a crown. You finish the crown and plae it on his head. “Thank you angel” he chuckles.

You gently smack him on the chest “Perseus,” you whisper shout “dont call me that..not in public atleast, what if anothe guard heard or worse, my father!” He rolls his eyes “Sorry princess.” A glare is cast his way before you go back to picking at flowers.

He re-adjusts the flower crown on his head to ensure it stays on “Regardless..its getting late, i was coming to fetch you to bring you back to your chambers.” You pout and look back to him “seriously?,” a small whine escapes your lips. :Yes, serioously.. time for you to get ready for bed”

You drop the flowers onto the ground and sit up onto your knees and press a gentle kiss to his lips before quickly pulling away, “pleassseee…just a couple more minuites” you beg. Slightly daed from the unexpefcted kiss he pauses, “what?..oh..fine..only five though,” he sighs. Your lips stretch into a smille and mutter a quiet ‘thank you’.

“how come i cant call you angel out here quietly but you can kiss me, hm?” You roll your eyes, hearing the cockiness in his voice “oh shush.”

Eventually after many kisses to pursuide him to let you stay out longer and one a bit more than steamy make out session, he gets you to go back to your chambers.

You flop onto your fluffy bed, pratiaclly melting into the mattress. Percy takes his sword off his hip and rests it aginst the foot of your bed before making him way over to you. A tap on your shoulder causes you to turn and look at him “hm?”

“Nightgown,” he reminds you, to which you huff in response but stand up. You turn so he can unlace your corset. His fingers work to unlace it with skill and muscle memory (plus he just did this in the garden moments ago for...different purposes). The corset drops to the ground once he has finished the words to untie the back of your dress.

The dress soon joins the corset and his hands instintivley go to rest on your waist. A glance back tells you percy has now completely lost his focous which makes you let out a light giggle, “oh, i get it, this was just a ploy to get me undressed.”

A chuckle escapes his lip and he grabs your night gown and hands it to you so you can pull it on. Onee you do so, you sit back on your bed and curl up with a blanket. You look up at him then glance down at the empty spot next to you then him again with a raised eyebrow.

He fakes a annoyed sigh and pulls his armour off, leaving him in his under shirt and pants. Climbinhg into bed, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you and your fluffy blanket closer. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and take a deep breath.

You hear a mumble, “You’re weird.”

“Oh?” you smile against his neck

“But.. you're adorable, therefore it balances out”

A yawn escapes your lips. “What’s your favorite thing out of your whole night?” The sleepy question spills from your mouth before you can realize the sappy stuff he was definitely about to say. “You… you’re my favorite, you're my favorite person, you’re the center of my universe angel.”

You smile so softly as sleep begins to take you for the night. “You’re my favorite thing too.”

AHH I LOVE YOU AND THIS REQ!!

[vonlycsnn]

✖ — EARLY-HALLOWEEN SPECIALTY — ✖

　　　　　　VON LYCAON x GN READER

- SYNOPSIS: you go on some decoration hunting with Lycaon in preparations for Halloween, that's when something caught your attention.

- CW/TW: none.

- A/N: oh my god oh my god oh my god HELLO HI HI HEY ITS ME. THE GUY WHO WROTE A LOT OF LYCAON X READER FICS BACK IN JULY AND EARLY AUGUST!!! IM SO SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE MASSIVE INACTIVITY... (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) September has been hectic for me and writer's block hit me like a god damn truck so I haven't been able to fully indulge myself into writing. I've missed you all so much waaaa...hopefully i can write more stuff for you lovely ppl!

Your eyes lingered towards the clothing store next to you, staring at the Halloween costumes displayed in the front.

As you became lost in your thoughts, a familiar voice snapped you back to reality. Your body shook up in surprise, but you immediately calmed down when you turned around to see him.

Your one and only love.

You had nearly forgotten that he was fetching something of his own importance and that he requested you to wait outside for a bit.

His gaze followed yours, taking a quick look at the displayed costumes and looking back at you.

"My apologies, master. It seems that I've kept you waiting." He said. You shook your head in response.

"It's fine, Lycaon; you didn't take that long."

You reassured him. Before you could say anything else, your eyes lingered towards the displayed costumes again. Lycaon took notice of this.

"Something in your mind, master?" Lycaon asked.

You snap back to reality once more and shake your head, assuring your thiren butler that everything's okay.

As the two of you were walking towards the parking lot of Lumina Mall, you couldn't help but wonder. A thought that stayed with you ever since October rolled in. You suddenly stopped, standing there as you continued to be deep in your own thoughts. Of course Lycaon became confused and worried by your actions.

He approached you, carefully grabbing your face and pulling your gaze over to him.

"Master, if you need anything else, there's no need to hesitate. Just tell it to me; I've reminded you of this many times already." Lycaon said.

"Im okay! I just...thought about something." You looked away in embarrassment.

"There's no need to hide, master. I will not shame you for what you have in mind."

You hesitate, inhaling and exhaling until you finally build the courage to speak up. You could tell that Lycaon is very focused on you; oh, what a gentleman he is.

"Ive been wondering, Lycaon. What...do you usually dress as during Halloween?"

You finally asked. While you can't see it because of his restraints, you can tell he raised his brows in confusion.

You suddenly felt embarrassed from asking such a question, and the air became heavier for you. It doesn't help the fact that Lycaon was just standing there...menacingly.

But just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Lycaon laughed softly. You looked back at him to see his cheeky little smile.

"Now what brought up that question, love?"

Lycaon takes a few steps towards you as you try and answer his question.

You hesitated again, completely scrambled by your own thoughts. Is it really okay to tell him this? Yes. No. Absolutely. Not at all.

Lycaon slightly titled his head as he waited patiently for your answer, his eyes straightening in case he doesn't hear you well enough.

"I just..." Breathe. Just breathe.

"Saw a big bad wolf costume earlier, from the fairytales, y'know? And I thought it'd..."

You looked back at him. Weirdly enough, he reminded you of those cute dog pictures where they tilt their heads in the same manner.

"It'd look good on you...maybe?" You awkwardly laughed to yourself.

Silence followed, and oh, did you feel like you wanted to throw yourself into a companion hollow and get ether corrupted—You hated every second of it.

Lycaon merely chuckled, walked up to you, and guided your gaze onto him.

"Well, would you like to go back and see how it looks on me then?" Lycaon suggested.

"Huh?"

"I'm no fan of having to act as a villainous character when it comes to these. However, I do find myself...enjoying dressing up as that antagonist in particular for some odd reason."

You weren't showing it, but you suddenly felt all giddy when you heard those words come out of his mouth. You gently took his hand and pulled him back towards the mall entrance.

"What are we waiting for then? I want to see how good it looks on ya!"

[writer-komaru]

Wild One’s Rodeo 𓃗

Warning✧ [explicit] Grinding, no protection, dubcon.

Characters✧ Boothill

Words✧ 1464

Summary✧ As a waitress for one of the most popular bars in penacony, you’ve met your fair share of strange characters. A smug man adorned in exotic furs who tried making a bet with the bartender, a sparkling knight who gave every lady in the bar a rose without even staying for a drink, even an enigmatic woman carrying a purple katana with eyes like a serpent who sat alone at the end of the bar. But never have you met a man like Boothill. A man of steel and whiskey, tying you in hemp like you’re nothing but a naughty cow he’s gonna tame. Give him a rodeo he won’t forget.

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Here’s your sundae,” you place a decked out desert in front of an impatient woman who snarls a crude thanks. You’d like to give her a good smack for making you fetch her four other deserts until she is finally satisfied but you had already been scolded two times already. You couldn’t afford to lose another job. Not in this “thriving” economy that had the lower class slaving away while the rich babbled over dozens of mugs of beer or road cars that sped down the busy streets like a comet streaking through the night sky.

You pushed away the unrealistic thoughts and got back to work. “What would ya like, sir?” “How can I help ya, ma’am?” “Would ya like a refill?” The thoughts buzzed and bounced around in your head like a hive of bees; it was beginning to drive ya mad. That was until they suddenly went dead silent.

You placed another tray of expensive alcohol (stuff you’d never dream of buying) onto the faded wooden counter when the doors of the bar flew open, almost splintering into pieces. A shot blasted out into the sky.

“YEEEEHAWW!! How’s all yall fiendin’ tonight?” He hollered out into the crowded bar catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Even though you’ve never seen this man before in your life, the guests erupted into cheers, some even standing up to greet him or share drinks. At Leary it gave you a few seconds to scope him out. He wore a tight, jet-black leather vest and pants, held up by a brown and heavy gold belt. Yet, that wasn’t the main thing that caught your eye. His vest appeared to be cut right above the nipples. But, strangely enough, he didn’t really have any. Instead, his entire upper body from the neck down to his feet and fingertips was entirely plated with titanium, or some similar shiny metal. Could he be some type of robo cowboy?

“Heyyyy little lady, whatcha doin’ on yer own?~” you gasped as he pushed you up against the counter, humming right against your ear with such a deep country accent you felt your legs tremble. He seemed to notice it too, his smirk stretching into a full on smile. “Oh my sweet darlin’, yer gonna fly away like a mayflower in May if ya keep trembling’ like that. Don’t worry babydoll, I got ya~” he chuckled with that rugged, sultry voice as he playfully stroked your hips, as if he was tinkering with some kind of machine, steadfast on fixing your loose legs. But his tinkering only wet your face ablaze.

Who even WAS this man?! You wanted to push him away and scold him but your hips were pinned so hard to the counter you could feel every inch he had. No, you can’t think such dirty thoughts about a guest, no matter how persuasive they were. And damn, was her persuasive.

“What’s with that look, darlin’? Scared I’ll bite?” Lets out a small laugh, “I might be gentle with it if ya say please, mister…~”

“P-please… mister.” you managed out breathlessly

“Awh, aren’t you a cute little lady~ why not we find out what these metal hands’a mine can do to those barrels yer hauling around, huh doll?~” his hands roamed up your body and gave your breasts a firm squeeze. That little move of his snapped you out of your lustful daze to deliver a fiery slap across his cheek.

He takes it like a champ and lets out a light whistle, “wow baby, you sting like hot iron~”

“Y-you can’t just jump on top of a stranger and have your way…” you cross your arms and turn around, peeking back at him to see his reaction. Any other waitress would have called the Bloodhounds of him. But you weren’t just any woman. You were dying for something actually interesting to your monotonous assembly-line ass job and this cowboy might be your ticket to freedom.

“Awwwhhh come on, doll face~ I ain’t mean no harm. When I saw yer curves dressed in that get up I knew I hadta show ya how to properly ride a bull~” he leans forward, taking your hand in his and kissing it with a flirtatious wink. He begins walking back to the door, your hand still in his, “if ya want some hands on learnin’, follow me, pretty thing.”

You immediately ripped off your stained waitress uniform and ran to his side, “Oh Boothill, I’ve been itching for this~”

“Have ya, now?~” he raised an eyebrow in amusement and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, “Well I know just the way to solve a pesky itch~”

“How will-“ before you could even finish your sentence he lifted both of your legs and swung them over his shoulders, your aching pussy pushed flush against his toned metallic abdomen. The hard surface sent electricity zapping through your wet folds; you were not sure if it was your desire or his robotic body sending out small shocks as if to warn you about the power it can showcase.

“Overwhelmed already?~ never been dicked down by a real man, have ya, darling?” He teases, stoking your flames.

“N-no, I have… m-many times…” you bluffed.

“You sure, babydoll? Cuz this cute little pussy down here’s singin’ a different tune and myyyy is it a sweeten’~” he bites his lip as he rubs his hips side to side, the hard as metal rod in his pants grinding against you so good you felt like cumming already and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“P-please….” You begged between gasps.

“Please what, doll?~” he smirked wickedly.

“P-please… p-ple… pl… ease….” You choked out each word, struggling to put them together.

“Two little words and I’ll stretch ya out so good your kitty’ll meow so loud they’ll call animal control,” he gave your chest another teasing squeeze.

“P-please… boothiiiiiilllll….” You cried out.

“That’s a good girl…~” his eyes narrowed with focus as he pushed aside your drenched panties and stroked your folds up and down.

“So sticky and wet… like a rich lil beehive overflowing with thick honey…” he once again rested his head on your shoulder as he aligned himself to your twitching pussy. Without so much as a warning, he rammed right inside, immediately hitting the deepest reaches of your womb, making you release an embarrassingly loud cry and a hot stream of cum all over his shiny abs. “Wowie…~ someone’s really been dying for a proper fucking, huh?” He gripped your hips tight and grunted as he attempted a deeper thrust, “I’ll milk this pretty hole for all its for.”

“Aaaaggh... nnnagggg… s-stop… n-no deep… we… aaACK!~” you choked out moan after moan, almost like you were a pent up teen again. No matter how much you begged, he only went faster and harder, with enough robotic accuracy and consistency you knew you’d be sore for days. It was like he filled each slap of skin with a silent promise to somehow, some way, get you pregnant.

He let out a particularly loud groan in your ear, “oh baby, if ya squeeze me like that… ohhhh doll…~ I just can’t take much more-a this.~ Ya ready? Ready for a real mess?”

“Y-yeah-ahh! Yeeaaaahhhh-Ahhh!” You cried out.

“Darn baby…. Oh… oh fu- f-fudge…. Hold on baby, I’m almost… oh darling, you’re perfect for me!~” with one last growl you feel a large burst of warm cum burst inside of you, dripping out onto the concrete of the secluded alleyway. But instead of giving himself even a moment’s rest, he bites his lip and shoves himself right back in, humping at you like a dog in heat.

“Shi-sugar baby, I just can’t stop breeding this pretty hole… And these massive tits here don’t make it any easier~” he gropes them a bit more before pinching your nipples with a naughty smile.

“A-aaagh!”

“Ohhh~ did someone like that~” he begins fucking you harder and licks your neck, “I didn’t know I had such a foxy lady under me~”

“P-pleasssseeeee boothill…”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get ya to that edge again…. And again and again and again, oh, you’ll have so much fun with me,” he laughed before delivering a cheeky bite to your neck. Your moans began to soften as your vision darkened, which he caught onto almost as fast as he’s drilling into you.

“I’ve got ya, doll… just let the darkness settle in.” He whispers with a soothing groan as he litters a series of bites along your neck and shoulder, each one fading your vision faster until it is purely black. When the morning comes, you’ll definitely get an ear full from your boss. That is…. If you choose to awake from this beautifully sexy daydream.

Hellooo everyone, I’m so terribly sorry it’s been so long. My life’s gotten a whole lot busier and I haven’t had any inspiration to write in a very very long time. BUT!! Even though this ain’t much compared to my usual stuff, I hope it’s still enjoyable to you all. I love yall so much, looking back at all the kind comments and likes warms my heart more than anything. See yall soon! (I’d be down for a part two if yall like 👀)