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theodorenmyth · 1 day

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OKAY! Random idea, it’s like angst-fluff scenario where mattheo and reader are close friends but like Mattheo is secretly whipped for them🤬 like boy would obey them if they told him not to fight. But oddly reader has like a toxic best friend who talks loudly of something about reader. It could be like abuse, trauma or anything and it makes them shut down and not show their face around Hogwarts for a few days perhaps since it spread around like wild fire. Mattheo IS PISSED! You can end the scenario how ever you want! <3

　Whispering Shadows

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x GN! Reader Summary : As secrets and betrayals ripple through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, you find yourself at the center of a storm. Your closest friend Mattheo Riddle, who harbors deeper feelings for you than he's ever admitted, becomes your unwavering support. When a toxic friend exposes your deepest wounds, you retreat into solitude, but Mattheo's fierce loyalty and love draw you back into the light. Amidst the turmoil, unexpected confessions blossom, revealing a love that has been quietly growing all along. Together, you navigate the whispers and shadows, finding strength in each other. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 990+

It was a cold evening in the Slytherin common room, the usual buzz of chatter filling the air. You sat by the fireplace, the warm light flickering across your face as you laughed at something Mattheo Riddle had just said. You and Mattheo had been friends for what felt like forever, and while his reputation for being tough and a bit of a troublemaker preceded him, you knew the real Mattheo – the one who would drop anything for you, the one who secretly cared more than he let on.

The door to the common room swung open, and in walked your other best friend, Lisa. She was loud and brash, never one to filter her thoughts, which sometimes was refreshing but often exhausting. Tonight was one of those exhausting nights.

"Hey, everyone," Lisa announced, her voice cutting through the room like a knife. "Guess what I heard today!"

You looked up from your conversation with Mattheo, who instantly stiffened at her tone. There was something about the way she said it that set off alarm bells in your head.

"Oh, don't keep us in suspense," one of the other Slytherins said, half-interested.

Lisa smirked, her eyes locking onto yours. "Well, it's about Y/N here. You know that family stuff they went through last summer? Turns out, it was even worse than we thought."

Your heart sank. "Lisa, don't—"

But she didn't stop. "I mean, can you believe it? Their parents are getting divorced because their dad was cheating, and apparently, Y/N knew the whole time. I can't imagine keeping something like that a secret. No wonder they were so messed up last year."

The room fell silent. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, the weight of their pity and curiosity crushing. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor and never be seen again.

"Lisa, shut the fuck up," Mattheo's voice was low, dangerous. He stood up, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Oh, come on, Matty," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like it's a secret anymore."

"Don't you fucking dare call me that. You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Mattheo took a step toward her, his anger palpable. "Y/N trusted you, and you just threw it in their face for what? A bit of gossip?"

You couldn't bear it anymore. You stood up, your vision blurring with tears, and ran out of the common room, the whispers of your classmates following you down the corridor.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You spent the next few days avoiding everyone, hiding in the less frequented parts of Hogwarts. You skipped classes, meals, and only ventured out when you were sure no one would be around. It was too much – the stares, the whispers, the constant reminder of everything you'd been trying to forget.

On the fourth day, you were sitting in an empty classroom, staring blankly at the chalkboard, when the door creaked open. You turned to see Mattheo standing there, his expression softening when he saw you.

"Y/N," he said quietly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

You wiped at your eyes, trying to compose yourself. "I didn't want to see anyone."

"I get that," he replied, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "But you can't hide forever."

"I can't face them, Matty," you admitted, your voice breaking. "Everyone knows now. They all look at me like I'm some kind of… victim."

"You're not a victim," he said firmly, crossing the room to sit beside you. "You're one of the strongest people I know. And if they can't see that, then screw them."

You managed a weak smile. "You always know what to say."

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "I just tell the truth. And the truth is, you're incredible. Lisa… she doesn't know what she's talking about. She had no right to say those things."

"Why are you so good to me?" you asked, looking into his eyes. "I don't deserve it."

Mattheo took a deep breath, his gaze never wavering. "Because I care about you, Y/N. More than you know. And it kills me to see you hurting like this."

There was a vulnerability in his eyes that took you by surprise. You'd always known Mattheo was protective of you, but this was different. This was… more.

"You don't have to do this alone," he continued. "I'm here for you. Always."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Thank you, Mattheo. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He squeezed your hand, a small, comforting gesture. "You don't have to find out." He wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, his arms wrapped around your body protectively.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Word of Lisa's betrayal spread quickly, and soon enough, she found herself ostracized by most of the Slytherin house. It was a small comfort, but it helped knowing that others saw her actions for what they were.

With Mattheo by your side, you slowly started to rejoin the world. You went back to classes, meals, and even the occasional Quidditch match. The whispers didn't stop immediately, but they lessened, and eventually, people moved on to other gossip.

One evening, as you and Mattheo sat by the fireplace in the common room, he turned to you, a serious look on his face. "You know, Y/N, I've been thinking."

"About what?" you asked, curious.

"About us," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "About how much you mean to me. And… I think it's time I told you something."

Your heart raced as you waited for him to continue.

"I love you, Y/N," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've loved you for a long time. And I don't want to keep it a secret anymore."

A wave of emotions crashed over you – surprise, joy, relief. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. "I love you too, Mattheo. I always have."

He smiled, and for the first time in days, you felt a sense of peace. No matter what happened, you knew you had Mattheo. And that made all the difference in the world.

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mediumgayitalian · 2 days

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fic rec friday 19

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

Falling For You (Literally) by peanutbutterapple

Will Solace was positively sure of two things. 1. He was unwaveringly devoted to his boyfriend of nearly a year, Nico di Angelo. 2. Of all the demigods at Camp Half-Blood, the Aphrodite kids were not to be toyed with.

love how theyre still working on their relationship in this one!! like they are clearly into each other and they know that but that is not Enough to sustain a relationship. cool commentary that relationships take work AND the work doesnt have to be hard/bad, there just needs to be effort. loved that.

2. I got a boy back home who's unlike any other by sunburst_city

“Ew,” Will says when he pulls away, licking his lips and grimacing at what Nico assumes is a mixture of stale sweat, dirt, and other things Nico would rather not think about. “You taste nasty.” “Excuse you. You try chasing down a rogue hellhound across a fucking bayou.”

this one was so cute!! it's a small thing but i love the dynamic where nico is such an Explorer you know. because it's very uniquely solangelo in terms of pjoverse!! they don't both want the same things. will is more of a homemaker and always has been. he's not a fighter and he doesn't want to be. he holds down the fort at home, he makes sure everyone is okay, he keeps people in line. whereas nico is right in the throes of the battle, in the middle of everything. they went on an adventure together and it was really hard for both of them. i like reading stuff where they have their own thing and they're very proud of each other for it.

3. fall asleep until it's only you and me by by sunburst_city

There is something frighteningly tangible about all her dreams involving Percy Jackson. 6 instances Annabeth dreams of Percy.

WHAT IF ANNABETH HAD GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO HER HUH. WHAT THEN. WHAT FUCKIN THEN. WHAT IF SHE HAD A GODDAMN MOMENT OF PEACE IN HER LIFE ACTUALLY

4. Overhead by cabeswaters

Will and Cecil really need a new phone and Nico is weak for boys with freckles. (Or, Will overhears a conversation he wasn't meant to and for once it's not a bad thing.)

overheard is the best trope of all time idc. truly elite. there is nothing more romantic than discovering your beloved talks and talks and talks about how much they love you to others!! it is flattening!!

5. Watch Me While I walk Away by @buoyantsaturn

“Actually, I’m taking over the route - Connor, nice to meet you,” the driver said, before going through the usual sign here, first name, last initial spiel. “Thank you very much, and I’ll see you around!”

oh being that whipped is EMBBARRASSINGG truly i get him. mitchell u are so real. and will is correct it is just like legally blonde how LUCKY

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

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teapartyprincess4two · 2 hours

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Y/n and Matt get closer when it's just them 2 in the house, and i was thinking Fluff and Smut like a lot of Smut. Maybe Matt is a virgin but Y/n aint so she teaches him???

End of the World- M. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x Matt

classification: Zombie Apocalypse AU, smut, fluff, angst/sad (kinda? Idk it’s a mix of everything)

inspiration: request^^

warnings: 18+, MDNI, set in modern day, use of y/n, literal sex, slight cursing, zombies & general apocalypse stuff (death, lnives, guns, killing, blood, hunger, dehydration, etc.), kinda long

summary: No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.

—

If anyone would’ve told you two years ago that you’d be huddled around the hood of a car, staring down at a worn out map, covered in blood, you would’ve called them crazy.

Two years ago your life was convenient. Now? Now life was simple, all you had to do was survive. All the things you wished would disappear; homework, bills, work, none of them mattered anymore. But they were easily replaced with an even greater burden, a zombie apocalypse and the end of the world.

Two years ago you wouldn’t have had even a spec of dirt under your fingernails, yet here you stand covered in blood that isn’t yours, weeks worth of dirt and grime, and sweat dripping down your forehead. Your hair is pulled back into a ponytail, exposing your shoulders to the harsh Texas heat and further working towards dehydrating you.

Two years ago you wouldn’t so much as hurt a fly. Now you wouldn’t think twice before pulling the trigger if it meant you had a chance at survival.

Two years ago you didn’t have to worry about where your next meal was coming from or if your bedroom was secure enough to sleep in. But the world has changed and so have you.

It’s been months since anyone in your group has had a good nights rest or a warm meal. All you’ve done is run from anything that threatens to harm you. Although you’ve all managed to set up a temporary moderately safe camp within the woods, it’s been difficult to stretch resources that are already scarce.

Food, water, clothing. These are all things that you wish you didn’t need. Why? Because leaving camp to retrieve them is dangerous. But, it’s been 2 days since your last run, and canned goods can only last so long, especially when there’s mouths to feed.

Chris uses his knife to point to an unmarked location on the map, “Nick and I will head south. I saw an old water tower in that direction when we passed through, maybe there’s a town nearby.” He uses the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead before returning it back to the map, tracing the blade up a road.

“Matt and Y/n, you two try looking in this area. We haven’t checked there yet and if we’re lucky it hasn’t been completely ransacked. You might find something…” Chris pauses, taking a look at the group of people not far behind. They’re chatting, all of them wearing exhausted expression and filthy clothes. “…something to get the group through the next couple of days. We can’t stay here anymore, place is crawling with infected.”

Chris became the leader of your group easily. He had a great way of talking to people, of showing them that even though the world was ending, the glass was still half full.

“You want us to split up?” Nick whisper shouts, a clear alarm evident in his tone. “Remember what happened last time? We lost a third of the group!” Nick flails his arms in desperation, almost like he’s willing Chris to realize the stupidity of his actions.

Nick was reasonable and smart, but too kind for his own good. If he wanted to, he could’ve become the leader of your group and done just as good of a job as Chris, but Nick was too empathic to take on that responsibility. He felt the needs of the group and often was led more by emotion than by reason or logic.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Chris bites back.

You stand next to Matt, watching the argument unfold. This was typical for Nick and Chris, but it stressed you out every time.

“If we had more people, we wouldn’t have to split up. But we’re low on supplies and can’t wait around for food to magically appear,” Chris says.

“If we hadn’t split up the first time, we’d have more people,” Nick snarks, storming away. Chris groans, running his hand through his hair. This was much more responsibility than he could handle, but as the youngest, strongest members of your group it was up to you all to pull the heaviest weight.

“We’ll be fine. Y/n and I are always careful,” Matt finally chimes in, placing a firm hand on Chris’s shoulder to ease any tension. “Besides, that part of town is pretty deep into the woods. I doubt any infected will be lurking and if they are, Y/n’s good with a gun and I’m fast.”

“I’m fast too,” you chuckle, knowing that Matt is trying to make light of a dark situation.

“True. I just gotta be faster,” he replies, sending you a cheeky wink. You laugh, earning a small round of laughter from Chris and Matt in return.

Chris visibly relaxes, grateful that at least one of his brothers isn’t giving him a hard time. But truth be told, Matt didn’t agree with Chris’s plan, he was just smart enough to keep it to himself. He knew that doubt created fear, and once fear infected you, you were as good as dead.

That’s what Matt was good at, being quiet. It came in handy on runs like this, especially because he was so quick on his feet. It’s your favorite characteristic of his, he’s a good listener, he’s observant, and you know that you’ll be safe as long as Matt is with you.

“Alright. Let’s head out, we’re gonna lose the light,” Chris instructs, jogging in the opposite direction of the camp to begin loading up a few trucks with guns and ammo.

“You two can take the car.”

Matt mulls the idea over. A car would be faster, but definitely much louder. Noise attracts anything looking for its next meal, especially the infected, and with only you to cover him he’s not sure he’s willing to take that risk.

“Nah. We’re walking. The town’s not too far, we’ll make it back by tomorrow morning the latest,” Matt replies, tossing a rifle in your direction. You’re quick to catch it and just as quick to respond, “Are you sure? A car would get us there and back before dinner.”

He understands your concern, but he can’t risk losing you, not after all the losses he’s already suffered. “Just trust me,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes being enough to calm your nerves.

“Whatever you have to do, Matt. Just come back,” Chris says, slamming the trunk shut.

—

Leaves and dry grass crunch under your feet with every step. It’s late summer and the Texas heat has managed to kill everything left alive that wasn’t infected.

You’ve been walking for two hours, only running into a few infected on the way, managing to take them out with nothing but your blade. Matt hates using guns, in fact you’ve only seen him use them on very rare and necessary occasions. You never understood his apprehension, I mean it’s the end of the world for Christ’s sake, but you’ve never questioned him.

“Heads up,” Matt whispers, nodding his head in the direction of a gas station.

You follow his gaze. It seemed like an easy place to loot. Apart from the few rotted corpses that roamed the exterior, only parked cars litter the parking lot, most of them still connected to the gas pumps.

“We’ll go in through the back. There’s got to be dry storage there,” Matt says, crouching and leading you towards the back of the building. You hum in response, readying yourself with your weapon and following closely behind.

Your scent must carry because as soon as you’re within 10 feet of the infected, their attention is drawn to you. Their arms are limp at their sides and their walk is more of a stagger, but it always manages to get your blood pumping.

“Hurry!” Matt whisper shouts, reaching behind him for your hand. Soon he’s pulling you into the building, shutting it securely behind you and bringing his pointer finger up to his lips to instruct you to keep quiet.

“I’ll go left. You go right,” you mouth, beginning to walk the aisles of the store while ensuring to keep your back to the wall. Matt nods, perusing the aisles as best he can while his life is in immediate danger.

Infected bite and claw at the glass windows, snarling as they watch you and Matt like prey. Sometimes you wondered what their life was like before they were bit, but the second one is close enough to harm you, all sympathy leaves and you don’t think twice before unloading the clip.

When you’re sure the building is secure you put your knife away and grab a shopping basket, securing it in the pit of your elbow as you load it with as many supplies as you can. Chips, jerky, candy, canned food, oil, rags, water, any and everything you two can carry is being thrown into these baskets.

“How are gonna get all of this back?” You ask Matt, noticing the even greater pile he’s accumulated. He scratches his head, taking a look around for something that’ll help lighten the load.

From the corner of his eye he spots a few duffel bags. Matt grabs a few and motions for you to begin packing them with as much as possible. “If they get too heavy I’ll carry them.”

“Bet you wish we had a car now,” you chuckle, neatly organizing the duffel bags.

“Not when those things are staring back at me,” Matt says, shuddering as he looks behind his shoulder to see the group of infected that have pooled at the entrance of the building.

—

You’re carrying two duffel bags full of supplies, one weighing on either one of your shoulders. Matt’s holding three, two rest on his shoulders and he’s carrying the other in his hand. He holds the straps so tight that his knuckles have managed to turn white.

The both of you are exhausted from the strength you’re using to carry this supplies back to your camp, from the long trek up-hill, and the energy you exerted to take out at least a dozen infected.

You stumble on a rock, the weight on your shoulders making it difficult for you to fix your footing. “Hey, you okay?” Matt asks, examining you with his eyes.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” you wheeze, hunching over and supporting yourself with your hands on your knees.

Matt’s tired too, of course he is, but it’s not like you two can set up camp in the middle of nowhere while surrounded by infected. He remembers seeing a few houses further up the road, it’s not a long walk and if you can make it, you’ll be able to rest there until morning.

“C’mon I think I saw a neighborhood, just push through a little longer. We’ll rest there for tonight and pick back up in the morning, okay?”

He waits for you to catch your breath, rubbing your back and comforting you, but never once letting his guard down in case something gets a jump on him.

You take a deep breath, straightening up and adjusting the duffel bag’s straps on your shoulders.

“Okay.”

—

The walk to the neighborhood was much longer than you thought, and you were starting to wonder if you were lost.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

Matt looks at you from behind his shoulder, subtly rolling his eyes before averting his gaze forward again. “You wanna lead the way, princess?”

The nickname makes you chuckle, mostly because you knew Matt used it when his mood was starting to sour and that only ever happened when he was hungry or tired. By the looks of it, he was starting to become both.

A small town comes into view just as you’re about to reply. It looks like you’ve stumbled across the Main Street, and as packed as it is with abandoned businesses and stores, a residential home is nowhere to be seen. “Didn’t I tell you I saw a town,” Matt snarks, a hint of sass laced in his tone.

You hum. “No. You said you saw a neighborhood. There isn’t a house anywhere to be seen. We might as well season ourselves for the damn infected to eat.”

A twig snaps in the distance. Your voices, although relatively quiet, have already worked towards alerting the undead of your presence.

“Shut up,” Matt grits, pulling you close to his body. You know better than to argue, instead pressing your back against his and unsheathing your knife.

Snarling and growling echoes through the town, bouncing off the buildings and making it difficult for you to pinpoint exactly what direction they’re coming from. That doesn’t stop Matt though, instead he uses the hand that isn’t holding a knife to grab your arm.

“Stay close,” he mouths, so inaudible that you almost don’t catch it. You nod your head, taking a fleeting look at your surroundings before following Matt through a back alley between a cafe and a gym (or what used to be a cafe and a gym).

The alley is a dead end, fenced off at the end with nothing but hungry zombies reaching through the metal rods in attempt to grab you. The old you would’ve screamed and cried for help, but you’ve learned to suppress your fear in order to survive.

You take a firm hold of your knife, stabbing it into the head of as many infected as you can. Quiet grunts emit from you and Matt as you clear the path, watching undead body after body hit the ground. For a second you feel sad, but only for a second. You don’t have time for trivial things such as emotions anymore, especially not when a trail of flesh eating monsters follows closely behind.

“Through here. C’mon,” Matt ushers, opening a door that leads into a gym. Although it’s safer than being stranded outside, the brick walls can only protect you for so long. You do a quick sweep of the room, looking for anything useful while also ensuring there aren’t any hidden surprises.

Once you’re sure it’s safe, you motion for Matt to follow you with a head tilt. He locks the door behind him, barricading it with an old elliptical before following you into the next room.

You enter a changing room, lined with showers and lockers that were sure to have at least one fresh pair of clothes. You set the heavy bags you’ve been carrying down, sighing with relief as you stretch your shoulders. Matt does the same, joining you in rummaging through the lockers for a new, clean shirt.

A lot of the clothes is tucked away in backpacks, most of it being unflattering male clothing, but you weren’t big on fashion nowadays. “Here. Found this for you,” Matt says, tossing a white tank top your way. You hold it up in the light, “Cute. Thanks.”

You’re about to change your shirt, without any real warning for Matt, so he quickly looks away and fixes his gaze on the shower heads and tiled walls. His hands fiddled with an unopened bar of soap he found in one of the lockers. Matt doesn’t know why he grabbed it, it’s not like he had access to running water, but a man could dream.

“I wonder if the showers work,” he thinks out loud.

You stand behind him, wearing only your bra and underwear as you wonder the same thing. God knows you could both use a shower right now. “Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head in wonder.

“Only one way to find out,” you shrug, pushing past Matt and sauntering over to the knob. You twist it quickly, patiently waiting for even a single drop of water.

Nothing, just groaning pipes and a slap in the face for naivety.

“Guess they don’t,” you say, standing under the shower head and looking at Matt with a sad smile. He chuckles, and just as he’s about to give up too, cold water spurts out abruptly, hitting the back of your head and running down your spine.

“Holy shit that’s hot!” You gasp. In all the excitement, Matt forgets how inappropriate it would be to join you in the shower under regular circumstances, and throws his clothes off. You’ve somehow already managed to remove your remaining clothing and have started scrubbing at your skin with your bare hands, letting the water run down your face.

“Matt! Hurry before it runs out!” You say, waving your hand behind you blindly. He doesn’t skip a beat, joining you under the shower head and letting it relax his sore, aching muscles. The water draws an audible groan from his lips, bringing you back to reality. You were naked and taking a shower with Matt, someone who was a stranger to you before the end of the world.

Suddenly, he remembers the bar of soap still in his hands and he accidentally takes in your naked figure as he opens it. His dick immediately rises, a clear indicator that he’s enjoying the view.

“Turn around,” he instructs, running the soap under the water and lathering his hands up. You do as your told, immediately feeling his fingers tangle themselves in your hair as he massages your scalp. It wasn’t necessarily an in depth hair wash routine, but it would suffice for now.

Soon, you’re turning around and rinsing the soap from your hair before reaching for the bar and instructing Matt to do the same.

“Here lemme get you now.” You shuffle behind him, tip toeing to reach better. Although it was odd and unexpected, you were glad to be sharing this moment with Matt.

The rest of the shower is silent as you and Matt bask in the warm water that runs down your bruised and battered bodies. You try keeping your limbs to yourselves, save for the brief moments Matt’s erect member brushes against your thigh or butt, but it’s hard when there’s only one shower head. You want to say something, mostly because you’ve had a crush on Matt from the moment you met him and his group, but you don’t. This isn’t about pleasure, not in this world at least. It’s about survival and the second you forget that, you get hurt.

“Haven’t felt that clean in years,” Matt chuckles, shoving a shirt over his head. The shower seems to have brought his spirits up, providing both of you with a new surge of energy. Little things like running water meant so much more now, especially when you’re trudging through highly forested areas and fighting for you life on the daily.

As you’re about to reply, a loud bang echoes through the locker room, followed by the sound of shuffling in your direction. You’re putting your pants on, buckling them quickly as you try to keep quiet. Your eyes are wide in fear and anticipation, watching Matt for a signal on what to do next.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing the duffel bags from before and darting his eyes towards the exit. Your gun, which you hadn’t used at all today, rests in your hand. Matt holds his as well. He’s on guard, raising the weapon close to his face as he inspects the area.

You follow behind him trying to keep as quiet as possible, fully expecting him to shoot whatever lurks behind the wall. But, as you near the exit, you see it.

Tense shoulders relax, lowering your weapon and sheathing it back into your belt. A squirrel sits on the cement floor, grooming itself and chittering away. You want to approach it, maybe even pet it, but Matt stops you with a hand to your chest.

Unlike you, he’d inspected the entirety of the situation and didn’t let himself become distracted by the first cute animal that crossed his path. After recognizing that it was a squirrel, he wondered what could’ve lead it into the building in the first place, causing him to check the window it entered through. A reanimated corpse stood right outside the window, dragging its feet as it paced back and forth in search of the fluffy animal.

“Let’s go. We’re done here,” Matt ordered, pulling you back towards the exit. And just like that, you were off to find somewhere to sleep, leaving the fluffy animal to fend for itself.

“Bye little guy.”

—

“Forgot how quiet and boring the world is,” you huff, slumping down onto the worn out mattress. Whatever energy the shower provided you was now long gone. You and Matt walked for another hour before finding the initial neighborhood you were searching for. And, after that, you spent another hour finding the perfect house and clearing all its rooms.

“Quiet’s nice,” Matt replies with a soft groan, joining you on the mattress. It sinks with his weight, the coils creaking as he becomes comfortable.

“You’re just saying that cause you want me to shut up so you can fall asleep.” You kick your shoes off and unbuckle your belt, letting it fall to floor with a soft thud. A smile tugs at Matt’s lips. “Right now yes. But in general, quiet’s good. Means we’re safe,” he replies, toeing his own shoes off.

Matt shuts his eyes, fluffing the pillow under his head and willing himself to finally get a full nights rest. This house is safe. He secured all the rooms, barricaded the doors, and his weapon is on standby. He can finally rest and relax. But, of course, your mind begins to wander and when your mind wanders, your words follow. “Guess you’re right… But quiet also means you’re not learning anything about the people you care about.”

A deep breath causes Matt’s chest to rise and fall. He doesn’t understand why you’re trying to be all philosophical at the end of the world. Nonetheless, he responds, “I know you, Y/n. I know you’re strong, I know you’re a kind person, and I know you have my back. I also know you’re annoying, but I trust you and I learned all that from watching. Sometimes you just have to watch people. In quiet. Can we sleep now?” He turns onto his side facing away from you in hopes that you’ll drop the topic and fall asleep.

You stare at his back. “Those are all things you learned about me now. I was nothing like this back then.”

Matt takes another deep breath. It’s obvious you’re in the mood to talk, maybe because you finally feel safe enough to keep your voice anything above a whisper, so he decides just to give in and turn your monologue into actual dialogue.

“Back then?” He asks. Matt shuffles on the mattress, now staring at the ceiling as your eyes remain on him. “Yeah, before everything went to shit. Before the end of the stupid fucking world when the little things used to matter. You know, like first kisses and picking the perfect outfit for a date with a cute guy.”

Matt picks at his fingernails, listening to every word that escapes your lips. When you put it that way, he really didn’t know anything about you. “Okay, so tell me about yourself then. Pretend like we’re not in a strangers house, in a strangers room, on a strangers bed, and tell me all about Y/n… Before the ‘end of the stupid fucking world.’”

You chuckle, preparing yourself for the vulnerability you’re about to put on full display, but now that he’s put you on the spot it’s much harder than you thought.

“Okay so… you already know my name. Hmm. My favorite color is pink?”

Matt scoffs. “That’s the real you? C’mon, you can’t go on this whole tangent about how you were different before and then say THAT.”

“Fine fine.” You think for a second. “I was a waitress at a hotel bar. Mixing drinks was easy, the customers were nice, my coworkers made the job tolerable. Mostly only worked weekends because I was at school during the week… I went to UCLA. Go Bruins!,” you let out a breathy laugh, “My siblings were going to visit me that weekend, the weekend it all happened. They had planned the trip for a long time and finally were gonna make the drive.”

Your mind goes to a dark place, the only thing anchoring you being the hand that Matt places on yours. You clear your throat before continuing, “I had a small off campus apartment. Cleared the living room out and everything for them. Even deep cleaned.” Matt squeezes your hand.

“College was fun while it lasted. My parents worked really hard to send me off. They threw me a going away party and everything, even dressed up my dog as the school mascot,” a small pause as you recollect your thoughts, “I had a puppy named Pig. Well he wasn’t a puppy, more like an old fart, but the name suited him. Named him after my favorite animal and because he had the pinkest nose when he first adopted him.”

You feel yourself becoming increasingly sad as you reminisce on what once was. “You know what? Maybe quiet is nice,” you laugh solemnly, wiping the tears that are rolling down your face.

Matt offers you a warm smile, thinking of something, anything, to get you to smile again. But he can’t help it, he’s curious, and since you’re already on the topic he wants to pry further into your personal life. “What were you going to school for?”

“Engineering. I’m shit with numbers, but I was pretty undecided so my parents just chose for me. Brandon would help me a lot. He was really smart… really sweet… But enough about me, tell me about you. Who was Matt before all this?”

Matt ignores your question, instead posing one of his own. “Who’s Brandon? Was he your boyfriend?” He cringes slightly, both at his boldness and at his lack of awareness of your vulernable, emotional state, but his curiosity keeps getting the best of him.

You snort. “Brandon? God no. He was my best friend, sure, but I was definitely not his type. Plus, I never had time for anything serious. I made time for the fun stuff, but never the commitment.” Matt couldn’t hide the relief on his face even he tried. A relationship status meant nothing during a zombie apocalypse, yet he found himself relieved to know that your heart didn’t belong to another.

“I’m sure you had girls swarming you,” you continue jokingly, poking Matt’s sides with a teasing edge. He makes a noise, something between a groan and chuckle as he runs his hands down his face.

“I take that as a yes?”

He hums, remembering the short lived internet fame he shared with his triplet brothers before shit hit the fan. “Some would say that. If you consider subscribers and followers as swarming girls.”

You visibly cringe, “Oh God. Were you one of those thirst trappers? Bet you went to influencer parties and vlogged your morning routine.” Matt laughs loudly, a genuine laugh, one of the few you’ve heard from him since you met.

“Rent was due, okay?” He replies between laughter. Soon you’re both laughing, bodies clumsily bumping as you clutch your stomach and wipe away tears. Your bodies are impossibly close, closer than they should be on a queen sized mattress, and you only notice it once your laughter dies down.

Your eyes have locked with his and your noses even manage to graze. Neither of you make an effort to look away or even to apologize for invading the other’s space. Instead, you do the unthinkable, the one thing you didn’t allow yourself to even think about doing even when he was naked in front of you earlier. You kiss him. You lean forward and close the gap, moulding your lips onto his.

Matt doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss. His hands find a comfortable resting place on your upper thigh and lower back, using the little energy left in his body to pull you closer. One of your hands lays on his chest while the other gently weaves its way through his hair.

The kiss is sweet and innocent, and it could’ve been over by now, but because you’re both so touch starved you separate for air and dive right back in. You moan against his lips, caressing the side of his face your thumb before moving so you’re cradling his waist. Subconsciously, as if on instinct, you grind down onto him, wanting to feel and explore him further.

Matt wants to go further, and he knows you know it too, especially with the display he put on earlier in the shower, but he’s a virgin who’s afraid to disappoint. So, he pulls away from the kiss and holds your hips in place with strong hands.

“I— Give me a second,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut and gulping so hard his adam’s apple bobs up and down. Matt’s mind is racing, every possible outcome for this situation playing through his mind.

You sense his apprehension, plus it’s written all over his face. You never want to push his boundaries or make him uncomfortable. So, you do the only thing you can think to do. Quickly, you shuffle off of him and off the bed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought— today in the shower— I’ll sleep downstairs on the couch.”

You begin to gather your things, leaving Matt dumbstruck as he stares between you and his raging erection. If he didn’t speak up now, you were going to get the wrong idea and he’d miss his chance at a shot with you. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

“Wait.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, gently pulling you back down onto the mattress.

Matt prepares himself for the vulnerability he’s about to display. He’s nervous, embarrassed, scared, and to top it off you’re the hottest girl he’s ever seen. And it’s not just because you’re the only one left either.

“I’m a virgin.”

Your eyes blow open in shock. “But earlier you said about the? I just thought?” He laughs at your inability to form a coherent sentence, but he gets the gist.

“It was hard to trust people when I was famous, especially girls. I never knew if they truly liked me or just wanted to have my name associated with them for the clout. But it’s different now, I know I can trust you. We took a shower together without making it weird after scavenging through old worn out clothes to find something slightly newer than what we had. You’re covered in the blood of monsters we killed to keep each other safe. You’re here with me when I have nothing permanent or safe to offer.” Matt pulls you back onto his lap, sitting up against the bed frame so your torsos are parallel.

“I should’ve said this a long time ago, but it’s hard to find the time when you’re fighting for your life on the daily… I care about you, Y/n. A lot. I’m not sure what to call it yet, but I care about you and I trust you. I trust you enough to do this.” You’re touched by his words, feeling their effect on your heartstrings and your throbbing core.

“I trust you too, Matt. So much more than you’ll ever know.” In that moment those words felt more real than an ‘i love you’ ever could. Matt leans forwards and kisses you, holding you by the neck. This kiss is different than the one from before, it’s needier and laced with lust.

His hands travel towards your tank top, tugging until he successfully untucks the fabric. You pull away from the kiss and lift your arms, allowing Matt to remove your shirt in one swift motion. The smile on his face as you slowly begin roaming your hands all over his body is genuine, filled with admiration, love and lust.

Your fingers beginning slipping his flannel over his shoulders, your mouth falling down to his broad shoulders to pepper kisses on the skin there. Soon, you’re both removing the rest of your clothes and Matt’s excitement has him flipping you over on the old, worn mattress. He gawks at the sight beneath him. You lay there completely exposed with only the soft moonlight that trickles in through the blinds to illuminate your body. Matt takes it all in, relishing in your beauty like it’s the last time, because in this world it very well might be.

A gentle hand trails from his stomach down to his penis, tracing the outside of his cock and watching intently at the way Matt’s eyes screw shut in concentration. It’s been so long since he’s touched himself and the sight of you alone is enough for him to combust, but he pulls himself together. You trace your thumb over the slit, coating his member with the natural lubrication that’s already spilling out before dragging his cock along your folds. Matt’s breath hitches at the new sensation, you already feel so warm and soft, he doesn’t know how he’s meant to last even one second once he’s actually inside you.

“We can stop if you want to.” Matt gulps, shaking his head feverishly. He doesn’t want this to stop, he’d never want this to stop, even if it hasn’t even really started yet. “No,” his voice is choked, “don’t stop.”

Your lip is caught between your teeth as you continue to guide the tip to your entrance, finally unwrapping your fingers from around him and instead wrapping your legs around his waist. Finally, Matt moves, sinking his cock into you slowly until he’s completely bottomed out. The initial feeling is euphoric, so euphoric in fact that his arms wobble as he tried to keep himself from collapsing on you. You love seeing him like this. A strong man who’d do anything to protect you, so weak and vulnerable from your touch.

His head finds the place where your neck and shoulder meet, forehead resting in the divot there as he slowly begins thrusting. Soft grunts and groans brush against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Praises fall from your own lips as his tip continues to kiss your cervix, egging him further in helping you reach your climax. But tonight was about him, as long as the man on top of you convulsed with pleasure you’d be happy.

Matt’s hips snap against yours, picking up the pace as he chases his orgasm. It’s so close, right on the edge, and from the way he sounds and feels you’re close too. “Keep going, Matt. Don’t stop,” you moan, pulling him in closer with your legs around his waist. Matt whimpers your name, sucking and biting on the skin of your neck harder with each passing thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, words choppy and interrupted by pants and moans. All you can do is whimper in return, snaking a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. As soon as your fingers touch the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body goes into overdrive. Your legs are shaking, pussy fluttering around his cock as you grip his shoulders and moaning his name. The feeling of your walls pushing and pulling around him, mixed with the way you chant his name, pushes Matt over the edge. His hips tremble slightly as he spills his load inside of you, unable to pull out before the wave of pleasure washed over his body.

Your bodies remain intertwined for a while, both of you trying to catch your breath. Matt reluctantly pulls out of you, relishing in the way your body chases after him. The mattress dips as he slumps into the spot next to you.

“Thank you.”

You turn to face Matt, a confused look on your face. You’re not sure where this will lead your relationship, but you never expected a thank you after sex, nor had you ever received one.

“Thank you?” You chuckle, curious to where the conversation was heading.

He hums. “Yeah, for not letting me die a virgin.” You can’t help the snort that follows.

“Well in that case, I guess you’re welcome. No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.”

Matt smiles again, a sight you’ll never grow tired of. He leans in for a kiss, pulling you close and keeping you there. The kiss is sloppy, mostly because you’re both exhausted from the days events, but neither of you dare pull away. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring or if there will even be a tomorrow, all you know is that this moment right here is real and you’d like to enjoy it for as long as possible.

“Get some rest, we have a long trip tomorrow.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Thank you so much for this request my sweet anon. I’m currently rewatching (binging) TWD and needed to get some zombie apocalypse type story out of my system, so I hope you don’t mind that I used that idea on your request. Also, I know you requested for the reader to teach Matt and I didn’t include really any of that here. I focused on the whole Virgin!Matt aspect of it all. Hope you all enjoy, sorry for not writing a lot later :P I’m deep in the trenches of Daryl Dixon fanfiction right now so if u need me, that’s where you’ll find me (if u can’t already tell by my reblogs lolol)

luv u all xxx

- L.A.M.B 💗👼🏻

—

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likedovesinthewindd · 8 hours

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dvd : patrick zweig

summary: patrick has no good hopes for your date | content/warning: reader and patrick were married (duh) and have a child, language, crying, talks of divorce settlements and stuff, suggestive content | a/n: okay guys I actually did it yay!! this really strayed away from the original idea, but I still like it, hope yall do too 𖹭

The TV was a little too loud for nine in the morning, and the smell of the first batch of burnt pancakes still hung thickly in the air, making you scrunch your nose in irritation. The dishes had been put on the backburner last night, and now the heap of ceramics and stainless steel taunts you from the dining table where you sat cutting at the not-burnt pancakes drowned in syrup.

Emmy sat across from you quietly, watching as you cut at her food, her little hands laid on the table palms down. "There you go, baby," you smiled, sliding the plastic plate full of uneven triangles over to her, which she accepted gratefully. "Thank you, mommy," she said softly as she took her plastic fork in hand.

You stood from the table, kissing the top of her head as you put the butter knife in the already full sink before moving to the small living area, seeing if any of the toys scattered around would be ones she'd like to take with her.

You spotted her brown teddy bear perched in the corner of the couch as if it were watching TV. You picked it up, fingers running over the soft pink bow at the front of its neck, color faded from time. Her dad had bought her the teddy the day she was born, and she had been attached to it since then. You were surprised it wasn't sitting next to her right now as she insisted it should most nights at dinner.

You placed it on top of her overnight bag, picking up the remote next to it to turn down the TV's volume. You look over at Emmy as she was still quietly eating breakfast, her fingers sticky because she keeps dipping her fingers into the syrup. You went into the bathroom and grab her toothbrush, taking a moment to fix your blouse in the mirror.

You put the toothbrush in the bag, once again checking to see that you had all the essentials. When you were sure you had everything, you took her plate, the last quarter piece of pancake obviously uninteresting as she had resorted to licking up the syrup on the plate instead. You placed the plate by the sink, rummaging through the drawers until you found the packet of moist towelettes, taking a few and gently wiping at her cheeks, chin and hands.

You held the sides of her squishy face, kissing her forehead before pulling back with a smile. "Are you ready to go?" you asked and she nodded excitedly, making your smile widen.

The car ride to the other side of town is fast and when you knock at the apartment door softly, bags slung over both shoulders you're half surprised to find Patrick looking like he had a full night's sleep and like he's been up for a while now. Emmy bursts with excitement, jumping into her dad's arms, who receives her with joy.

He looked good. You could tell he shaved this morning, and the tired bags under his eyes have lightened considerably since last time you've seen him. Maybe he's been sleeping better, or he managed to score a match or two on the lineup. Maybe he got laid. You tried not to think about that.

"Hey," he said, balancing the four year old on his hip as she laid her head on his shoulder. "Hi," you breathed, taking the heavy bag from your shoulder with a grunt. "I packed in her medicine bag, I think she might be coming up with a cold or something," you started, patting the side of the bag before he took it from you.

"And uh, some of her toys," you said, handing him the second bag.

"Okay," you sighed, focusing back on Emmy. "I'm gonna miss you so much, baby. Gimme a hug," you said, taking her from Patrick as she wrapped her arms around you tightly. She was surprisingly not very clingy for her age, so she wasn't too sad to see you go, but you always suspected that was just because she was more of a daddy's girl anyway. The waterworks usually started when she had to depart on Sunday nights after a weekend with her father.

The whole system you had worked out worked very well for all three of you, but it was admittedly difficult to adjust to. The whole divorce itself was a difficult process, on the cusp of becoming messy before common ground was finally found.

The two of married hastily, dumb on love and ready to start a life together. Your 26 year old self really thought it had been the best decision to marry at that point because you were truly deeply in love and it just felt like the right step. Fast forward to a few years and a baby later, things had fizzled down to too many arguments and a connection that was seemingly no longer there.

The divorce procedures stretched on for ages, and things like custody and visitation only made that process longer. Ultimately, though, things worked out seamlessly and it seemed like the two of you were happier apart. Your daughter was getting used to the new schedule Patrick started dating again and invested all of your extra energy amd time into your daughter.

It looked like Patrick had no problem moving on really. He started dating not too long after the final papers were signed but none of his conquests were permanent. On the other hand, you kind of stayed idle for a while, still licking your wounds and feeling sorry for yourself. It really wasnt until recently you started getting out there again.

It wasn't without hesitation either, but your friends wanted you to be happy again, and they weren't accepting the "too busy being a mom" excuse anymore, their reasoning being that you could be happy and be a mother. So you said yes and agreed to a date set up by one of your friends. It wasn't your thing, but it was either that or going on a dating app, and the thought of that alone made you shiver, so you trusted your friend's judgment.

✰ ⊹ ˚.

It was Saturday night, and your stomach was churning nervously as you made your way to Patrick's apartment complex. You were already made up for your date and you had to ask Patrick to watch Emmy for the night because your mother was out of town. He had no problem, hardly did, and he looked ecstatic to see the little girl when she jumped into his arms as she always did.

She tucked her head into the crook of his neck as her tiny arms wrapped around his neck and it gave him the opportunity to get a good look at you. A small smile playing on his lips and you immediately knew what he was thinking. You cursed yourself for reacting the way you did, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze as your eyes briefly shot down to your heels.

"You going out?" he asked when you handed him Emmy's overnight bag. "Mommy has a date!" the little girl said excitedly before you could answer, and Patrick's eyebrows shot up. "Emma," you said, trying to sound stern. "A date?" Patrick said as he looked over at you. "Yes, I have a date," you said. Patrick only nodded before he gently placed Emmy down, squatting down to whisper something in her ear before she was running into the apartment.

He stood back to his full height before throwing Emma's bag over his shoulder. "Do you have a few minutes? I wanna talk to you about something," he said softly, his head nodding to the inside of the apartment. You check the time on your wristwatch. It was 20:43 and the date wasn't until nine. You shrugged, making your way inside with him.

His apartment was clean, but messy. You never spent a lot of time in here anyway so you allowed yourself the chance to look around a little as you follwed Patrick.

Emma was sitting on the living room couch watching a movie on the old DVD player Patrick refused to get rid of. He showed his age with his preference of media consumption. He had a box next the TV full of movies he had collected from childhood and throughout your life and he still had his old CD player from high school with an assortment of CD's packed into one of the unoccupied kitchen cupboards.

You gently smoothed your hand over Emma's hair when you passed her as she sat watching The Little Mermaid for the umpteenth time. Patrick led you to the kitchen, and you quietly sat down by one of the kitchen table chairs pulling at your dress as it rode up your thighs just a little.

Patrick sat down across from you, his eyes on the back of the couch where Emmy sat before his attention was back on you. "So, who's this guy?" he asked, keeping his voice low. You scoffed, brows furrowing. "I thought you wanted to talk about something serious," you said. "This is serious," he reasoned. "No, you're just busy," you said with a laugh. "Of course I am. Now tell me," he said. You sat back against the chair as you crossed your arms, sighing defeatedly.

"He's one of Fran's friends," you said. Patrick nodded, giving you a look that told you he wanted you to continue. "He's an accountant, I think. Real put together guy from what I can tell," you added. Patrick's face scrunched up a little. "Sounds like a prude," he deadpanned, and you rolled your eyes. "Bye, Patrick," you said, rising from the chair and grabbing your purse on the table. You gave Emma a big kiss on her head before you made your way out of Patrick's apartment. He walked you to the door, seeing you off with a "have fun."

✰ ⊹ ˚.

Patrick was praying you were having an awful time right now. It sounded bad, terrible actually, but Patrick couldn't stand the thought of you with someone else. The thought of you laughing at some other guy's jokes made his skin crawl. It was so hypocritical and extremely selfish considering he's been on more dates than he could remember after the two of you split. They never led to anything serious, though. None if them fulfilled him, his thoughts always drifting to what you two could've been late at night.

He tossed and turned in bed, usable to fall asleep with his thoughts plaguing him. Were you enjoying yourself? Did you like this guy? Were you already talking about a possible second date? Is he taking you to his place tonight?

The soft knocking broke his train of thought and he quickly rose from bed with a grunt and made his way to the front door. He looked through the peephole, surprised to find you staring back at him with a frown on his face. He opened the door, immediately standing one side so that you could come in.

You didn't say anything as you made your way to his couch as if you lived there, plopping down as you ran a hand over your face with a sigh. "How was the date?" Patrick found himself asking, a bit of bitteness to his tone. He sat down next to you quietly.

"It was okay," you said softly. "Okay? Then why do you look so disappointed?" he asked. "I dunno, he just wasn't it. I didn't feel anything," you said, your hands smoothing over your legs. "Which makes me feel kinda bad because he was a really nice guy, y'know? But I just didn't feel that thing," you continued. You already felt hopeless and it had only been your first date after getting back into the game. You supposed that was also why your marriage ended the way it did. Why you even married in the first place. You moved very quickly, latching onto something good and letting go as soon as that feeling started dissipating. You didn't like challenges or downsides.

You hadn't even noticed the tears pooling until you felt one rolling down you cheek. It all set in and now you really felt like an idiot; crying about a failed date at your ex's house. You got up from the couch, Patrick following promptly as you turned your back to him in a poor attempt to subtly wipe your cheeks.

"But, uh. I actually wanted to come pick up Emma. Y'know since I have the night to myself," you said, looking down the hall. "I don't mind looking after her, yknow that. Give you the night to yourself?" he said and you nodded. "Yeah I know that, I just figured," you said, shrugging. "I don't mind," he repeated. "I know," you said, "I just didn't wanna be alone tonight."

You hated the way your voice cracked when you said it, the way the tears couldn't stop once Patrick wrapped his arms around you in consolation. You hated the way he still used the same cologne you loved and the way you missed his smell, your hands tightening their hold on his shirt. You hated how right it felt in the warmth of his arms.

After a while his hand gently held your face when he could feel you calmed down, wanting to see your face. He placed a kiss to your forehead and your whole body grew warm at the feeling of his lips against his skin. He pulled away and looked down at you. He didn't say anything, but you knew exactly what he wanted to say anyway. So you raised your face closer to his and you kissed him. Deeply, nothing spared, no timidity present as you kissed him like your life depended on it. Like you needed it. And Patrick returned it tenfold, holding you impossibly closer as he deepened the kiss, tasting you like a man starved. In a way he was, too; starved of you for far too long and in desperate need for another taste. And another.

His lips left yours and regained their place on your neck, kisses planted up the expanse of your skin until he found that special place right behind your ear. You hummed as you felt his hands grabbing at you greedily, refamiliarizing himself with the soft skin and pillowy curves he once knew like the back of his hand. You grabbed onto his face, once again meeting him in anthor kiss that stole all the breath from your lungs. He moved the two of you until you were both laying on his couch, him on top of you as you made out like a pair of teenagers.

By now your dress had ridden up almost all the way and Patrick took your leg by the back of your knee to bring it up to his hip. "D'you know how much I missed you?" he breathed as his lips kissed at your collarbones, pulling at the straps of your dress to get them out of the way. You unlooped your arms from his neck before taking them out of your dress' straps. When Patrick pulled the fabric down hurriedly he groaned at the sight of your bra, your tits perfectly encapsulated in the beautiful soft pink lace.

"You got all pretty for that loser, baby?" he asked but you were way to worked up to even register what he was saying, only softly moaning when his hand squeezed at one of your tits. "Huh?" he kept on as he kissed the top of your breasts that peeked from the cups before kissing over your breast in the bra, too softly for your liking but still enough to have your lower stomach jumping in anticipation.

He looked up at you, moving back up your body until his face was right by yours, noses rubbing as he looked down at you in pure admiration. Like you hung each star in the sky yourself. "I really fucking missed you," he spoke the words against your mouth, the vibrations tickling you. You closed your eyes to try and get away from his unwavering gaze but you quickly found yourself opening them, not wanting to miss a single second of this moment. "I missed you too," you spoke softly, the words foreign in your mouth now that you've said them out loud for the first time ever. He smiled widely before kissing you again.

Your hips bucked up against his impatiently and his grip on your hip tightened, lifting it as he pushed down against it to give you exactly what you wanted. You moaned into his mouth and just when you wanted to repeat the action a small voice broke out in the otherwise quiet apartment.

You both pulled away with a gasp, everything hitting you once when you realized where you were. You both seemed to realize now wouldn't be the best time or place for any of what you were planning on doing, so you moved to fix your dress while Patrick got off of you with a sigh, making his way to where Emma slept.

You waited a few minutes before joining him in the guest room. The room was already sparsely decorated, a few things she always left behind finding permanent residence there while a few of her drawing were stuck to the cupboards. Emma was already back to sleep when you made your way into the room just as Patrick tucked her in, leaving her with her kiss on her head.

He made his way over to you quietly, wrapping his arms around you once again with a sigh. You accepted it gladly, once again breathing in his scent. "I'll go get you something to change into," he spoke into your hair as he rubbed between your shoulder blades. You nodded, lifting your head to look at him. "Are you really doing this again?" you asked, the scare sobering you up a lot more. "I can't see myself with anyone else," he said truthfully and at that moment you realized you felt exactly the same, only nodding before he left into his bedroom.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #likedovesinthewindd

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jmdbjk · 15 hours

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Namjoon's June 15 letter

A much better translation than the one on Weverse.

"...it felt great to get together with the members after a really long time and have a heart-to-heart over drinks (though more than half the conversation consisted of military stories.. haha). It had been nearly 10 whole months since we did something like this. Why did I miss these guys so much.."

I hope we get to hear some of these military stories too. Absence makes the heart grow fonder... you take something for granted until you don't have access to it anymore. Makes these group photos even more precious nowadays.

"Jin hyung did always tell us that he missed the other members a lot, that we were going to feel the same. Now scattered apart, living somewhere in Gangwondo, I understand it, it resonates so deeply."

I felt that to my core. I am so very thankful Jimin and Jungkook have each other. I cannot fathom either of them trying to get through this time alone. So thankful.

"Actually talking face-to-face, I was reminded of the things that remain unchanging, the place that I have to return to, the person that I was.. it was a meaningful, precious time for all of us."

Namjoon realizes where he belongs, with his brothers of BTS and with us. Just like Jin realized he was finally home, onstage, with Army, where he belonged.

Going to wipe my tears and re-gird my loins to get through one more year. We still have some things to look forward to: Jungkook and Tae's documentaries? Jimin's song or album? Jimin and Jungkook drinking around the world? Jin's album! Whatever Hobi has for a 6-month post-discharge plan!

Whatever they give us, I am going to cherish every moment until we get to see them walk out of their respective barracks for the last time next June.

Apobangpo, everyone!

#i'm not crying! you're crying!#i actually sobbed #😭😭😭#i'm usually not THAT dramatic but i guess seeing their faces hit me hard #bts military service #namjoon #jimin #jungkook #jin #hobi #taehyung #yoongi

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lilac-hecox · 1 day

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Destiny - Ian/Anthony - ianthony

(My contribution to the first day of Ianthony Week at @mywaybacktoyou) about 1,000 words written in like half an hour but it's been on my mind.

It was always going to end this way. Even when Ian was twelve and met Anthony in sixth grade, even then, it was always going to end like this. It was a hello that was always destined to have a goodbye. Maybe it would have come even sooner if not for Smosh and the life Ian and Anthony built together, a life that required them to be friends, to be close, the same life that extended their friendship was ultimately what ended it.

You can’t fight destiny or fate and Ian barely believes in those types of things, but Anthony does, and Ian believes enough to know that there were too many steps that were taken in their journey to follow the steps backwards at this point. There is no bread crumb trail, no markings to use to find their way, blind, groping, back to where they began.

Because that life is gone. Those versions of them.

They don’t live in their house in Sacramento. They don’t spend the night at each other’s houses. Ian still remembers the day Anthony grabbed his shoulders in excitement and squeezed hard, and his eyes were glimmering with something, something real and alive, and Anthony told him.

“Ian, this could really be something. We could do this.”

And they did. But at what cost?

Their friendship isn’t just for them. The most devastating part is that the ending will not be for just them either. It won’t be private. It can’t be. Ian and Anthony have made their content and success off the sacrifice of their relationship in privacy and meaning, and so, what does it even mean now to give up the last remnants of what is there? To give the carcass of their friendship to the alter of the viewers and let them dissect the corpse of what was there. What does it matter?

“We’ll still see each other,” Anthony says, his eyes so dull, so dark, so far away from the nineteen-year-old that saw all the possibilities laid out before them.

Ian doesn’t recognize Anthony. He doesn’t recognize himself.

“Do you think so?” Ian asks, because as it is, they don’t even hang out now. A few weeks ago, some last-ditch effort to reclaim what they had, they sat in Anthony’s apartment, and they played video games, and the motions were there, but everything else was missing.

“I’d like to,” Anthony says, his voice small and unsure and full of so much hurt that Ian wants to cover his ears, and he wants to turn away, wants to be blind to this, wants to be anywhere but here and now and having this conversation.

Then, they are looking at each other from across the expanse of Anthony’s dining room table.

Ian wishes he were twelve again. He wishes the most pressing matter would be whose house they are going to spend the night at this weekend. He wishes he wasn’t saying goodbye to the only person he felt has understood him since he was a child, the other half of Smosh, the other half of himself.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Anthony says, his eyes so tired when he looks at Ian.

“About leaving with you?”

“Yeah,” Anthony says, “fuck Defy, dude. We can do this on our own.”

“That means walking away from Smosh and what we made. And then what happens to the other cast members? To the team depending on us?”

Anthony’s jaw is set tight.

“What we made has been gone. Smosh is dead. I don’t know what the fuck you see when you look at ‘our’ channel, but it’s not Smosh and it isn’t ours. Everything else is Defy’s problem. They’re the ones that pushed for our videos to change, they’re the ones that brought on new cast members and threw them in without letting us warm them up to the viewers. They fucked up and they can deal with it. You and I can start over again.”

There’s a pleading to Anthony’s voice, a desperation that slices Ian in two. Even as Anthony speaks, Ian knows he isn’t brave enough to go. He can’t follow. He can’t abandon Smosh.

In the quiet, Anthony knows the answer, because Anthony still knows him like the back of his hand despite the distance between them.

“You’ve always been a coward,” Anthony mumbles.

The words hurt, but maybe they hurt more because they feel true.

“I can’t leave Smosh behind.”

“But you can leave me behind,” Anthony supplies.

“You’re the one walking away!” Ian blurts out, feeling a heat in his chest, his heart beating too fast.

“Not from you.”

“You’re walking away from everything, Anthony.”

Anthony runs a hand through his hair and sighs and then he presses the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“I have to, Ian. I can’t be a puppet for Defy anymore. They ruined Smosh. They ruined us.”

“And I have to stay.”

Then, the matter is settled, as it was always meant to be. Every beginning has to have an ending and life isn’t a movie or a sketch, and Ian can’t will it to go the way he wants it to. He thinks of the nervous twelve-year-old he was so many years ago and how good it felt to have a best friend, how good it felt to be living his dream life with his best friend, and Ian can’t imagine that twelve-year-old knowing that someday, it would all end up like this.

This is their ending, whether he likes it or not. This is destiny, or fate, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. This is Ian and Anthony living out the consequences of years’ worth of actions. This is selling to Defy. This is Anthony getting engaged. This is an awkward dinner with drinks in New York where Ian felt like he was drowning and couldn’t voice a word to Anthony.

This is them setting up a filming date to announce Anthony’s departure.

This is Ian shrugging on his coat and Anthony lingering near his own front door and it feels like there are a million things to say to one another but at the same time the silence is thick, choking, and Ian wants to run. He wants to run back to Sacramento, to their old house, their parent’s places, their teenage bedrooms, to the science class in a Del Campo middle school, and he wants to tell those twelve-year-old boys not to sell to Defy, and to talk to each other more, and not to be so damn afraid of what the world thinks their relationship is supposed to be.

But he can’t.

What he can do is get in his car. And what Ian can do is look up at the lighted window of Anthony’s apartment from where he parked in the street, and what he can do is raise his hand in a wave at the figure silhouetted in the light from that apartment.

What he can do is let Anthony go.

He doesn’t really have a choice.

You can’t fight destiny.

#ianthony #ianthony week #mywaybacktoyou #my fic #my writing #my fics #angst #the besties #the husbands

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istadris · 3 days

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On the Koopalings and Bowser

I never know on which foot dance when it comes to Bowser's relationship with the Koopalings.

On one hand, yes, Bowser being a tired dad to 8 kids with most of them being adopted is cute (and a nightmare for me to handle in fics), and I respect and appreciate fanworks including that. I also understand that Nintendo retconned the familial bond and most Mario fans are used to the Koopalings being considered Bowser's family.

On the other hand, I didn't grow up with material where they are Bowser's kids, most of my exposition to them were games where they're his lieutenants, with Junior as Bowser's only son.

It so happens that I love complex relationships; found families that are difficult to define and don't fall neatly under the usual family labels; ambivalent feelings about a parental figure who clearly isn't your official parent.

With that said, hear me out on how I see the Koopa royal family dynamics :

Koopas can reproduce either with a partner or through parthenogenesis, birthing on their own a near clone of themselves (although if you ever call a Koopa kid born this way a clone in front of their parents, they're likely to beat the shit out of you and everyone in the vicinity will agree the reaction is justified, if a bit overemotional). Because laying an egg and providing for a baby all by yourself is very demanding, Koopas reproducing through this method go into a very intense nesting/brooding mode, basically turning off every function that isn't "take care of youngling" and becoming very aggressive.

When Bowser decided to have Junior (and morphed into a very broody Giga Bowser), everyone in the castle stayed clear from him...which facilitated sneaking into the castle for a bunch of half-feral orphaned Koopalings scrapping by to survive and hoping to nab enough food and money to live another day. Thankfully for them, when Bowser came across them, instead of registering them as "threat" (and eating them alive), due to how young and malnourished most of them were, his brain went "hungry baby. Must feed baby" before he dragged them back to his nest. When Bowser turned back to normal, he basically went through his day as normal, except now "normal" includes a bunch of kids.

Main reasons for this attitude :

He's Very Bad at talking about his emotions beyond "I HATE MARIO"

As far as he's concerned, the Koopalings are his kids now too. Even if he doesn't mention. If they're okay with it or course. If anyone else has an issue with it, he'll deal with them, and if they don't like it, they'll bring it up, but otherwise why make a fuss?

Kamek is the one doing the paperwork, so he's waiting for a sort of green light to put them down as his kids or something.

Kamek has been diligently dodging the question of adding 7 kids to the royal line of succession for several years now.

So for a while at the beginning, the Koopalings ended up in a weird limbo state where their status within the Koopa Troop was unclear. Ludwig, worrying the wind might turn someday, encouraged the oldest (and later the youngest) to make themselves useful. Which led Bowser and his officers and mages to give the Koopalings more stuff to do, and through the years, they gradually went up the ranks and became Bowser's Terrors and main lieutenants. Still, neatly calling Bowser "Dad" is a tad more complex than their actual feelings on the matter.

By the time Junior is 10, the dynamics go like this :

Ludwig (in his early-mid twenties) has always minded the Koopalings and is very protective of them. He's also deeply devoted to Bowser, who got them out of the gutter and gave them a chance. He's extremely informal towards Bowser and would never dare calling him Dad or even Father : it's "Lord Bowser", "Sir" or "His Majesty", and he would die for him (although not without making sure his death has an efficient, long-lasting impact useful for the kingdom). Even Bowser thinks he needs to chill.

Roy (very early twenties) is one of the only ones who remember having a dad, and it wasn't a fun experience. Still, he remembers what it was like, and Bowser being actually a decent father figure messes a lot with Roy's daddy issues. He wants to hate Bowser, especially once he's in his teens, because that's what being a cool guy is for, but even he can admit Bowser is badass. Still, most of the times, it's easier for Roy to call Bowser "Boss" and treat him as such, respect and all.

Wendy (around 16) is more than fine being Bowser's Most Specialest Daddy's Girl. She was born for this. She doesn't remember a lot from the pre Bowser life but she does keep in memory being insanely jealous of pretty girls with fancy toys, and never truly got over it. She noticed Bowser hardly refuses her anything when she calls him "Daddy", so of course that's what she uses...except when she's on the job and has to be taken seriously, in that case she falls back on "Lord Bowser"

Morton (??? either close to Wendy's age or one of the youngest, I can't decide) had no previous model for what having a dad is like. He's following the other's lead on it, but Junior calls Bowser "Dad" and Ludwig calls him "Lord Bowser" and the twins call him "King Dad" and it's Confusing. So it's Big Bowser and Little Bowser. All he knows is that he loves them both very much and the mere notion of losing them is enough to make him stress out.

Iggy (around 14) doesn't need a dad, he needs supervision to avoid blowing something up. He just loves being Bowser's "kid", whatever that entails, because he gets to mess with a LOT of people. He resorts to "King Dad", but mostly because Lemmy does it, and easily switches between "Boss", "Sir", "Daddy" and "BBB" (Big Bod Bowser. Who spent several days recovering from it the first time Iggy used it).

Lemmy (around 14, same as Iggy) is here to partaaaay. He doesn't remember anything of their life before Bowser, so for him, there's always been their big lug of a "King Dad" who needs them to bail him out of messes. He's close to Junior (due to being one of the youngest) and even if he does know Junior has a different status from him, it never bothered him and he never got trouble from pranking him.

Larry (around 14, can't decide if he's younger or older than Iggy and Lemmy) has also always known Bowser, but he's a bit more self-conscious about the situation of being sort of adopted but not officially? Usually he sticks to "King Bowser", so when he slips and calls Bowser "Dad", he usually feels pretty embarrassed, even if no one bats an eye.. He was actually a bit jealous of Junior as a kid for "stealing" Bowser's attention, but he's gotten better.

#super mario bros #bowser #koopalings #miscellaneous mario madness #long post #Ista writes

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weird-is-life · 13 hours

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hey lovie! what about a remus x reader where he sees her asleep in the back of the library one evening on his prefect rounds and he wakes her up. he is more concerned on how long she’s been studying/asleep since it’s so late…on their walk she just walks with him during his rounds because they are just chatty

they both fancy each other but neither of them think the other thinks the same. he walks her back to gryf tower snd he finally says what he’s wanted to say for years

(i hope that makes sense and if ya hate the idea, no problemo lol)

xoxo

Hii lovely🥰 ty for the request. I tried my best, hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n, like one swear word, (0.9k)

Remus has seen you many times before. Either in the common room, halls, dining room, and the most in the library.

Remus always sees you in the library. Sitting quietly more at the back of the room. Either reading some book or doing the assignments for the classes.

So it's no surprise to see you here even now. But it definitely catches him off guard seeing you here so so late. Remus was on the last one of his prefect rounds before heading to bed himself, and he wasn't expecting to see you in the library.

Remus, from a shorter distance, notices that you are asleep. Softly exhaling one breath after another. Something stirs in Remus's heart at the sight of you, but he ignores it.

Remus approaches you, and tries to wake you up as nicely as he can. He doesn't want to scare you. He gently shakes you by your shoulder, and whispers your name a few times.

You rouse from sleep, blinking, completely baffled by Remus's handsome face.

Remus thinks you are even more cute when you are half asleep. It's not doing any favors to his feelings for you. But he wills those thoughts away, and says, "sorry, y/n. You fell asleep in the library, and it's getting pretty late."

The sleep haze quickly dissappears when you realise where you are. You are up on your feet in a matter of seconds, packing your things away.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I was reading, and-and I must have fallen asleep," you explain in a mild panic. You would be in a lot of trouble if it was anybody else other than Remus that had found you here. Students aren't allowed out of their dorms this late at night.

"It's alright," Remus reassures you with a warm smile," I've done that so many times. I can't even count how many times James or Sirius had to walk down here to retrieve me."

"Really?" you giggle quietly, still very much sleepy and a little stressed.

"Yeah, really," Remus chuckles, too. "Now c'mon, let's get you to your dorm. I'll walk you there. Well, that is if you don't mind."

You shake your head. Indicating that you don't mind at all. Your cheeks go pretty pink as Remus and you start to walk towards the dorms.

You've always thought that Remus was so handsome, and so so smart. You'd never done anything about your crush, of course. Too scared to say anything. But that doesn't mean you haven't been admiring him. You have just-........from afar.

"Why were you in the library so late?" Remus asks to fill in the awkward quiet between you. And also he's a bit worried about you staying there until so late.

"Just studying, I couldn't figure out one assignment," you sigh. You still haven't figured it out, even if you stayed in the library for so many hours.

"The one for the potions?"

"Yeah," you admit in defeat," I've read everything I possibly could, but still i didn't find the answer."

Remus gives you a hesitant smile. You two are just a few steps from the dorms. You were walking too long in the awkward silence, and now the flowing conversation is about to end.

"I can give you the answer. I'll give it to you right away if you give me a second to look for it in my room," Remus instantly offers.

He's spent good few hours trying to find the answer too, so he understands how frustrating it can get. So he's very willing to give you the answer just so you don't go to bed with that on your mind. And also because he likes you, like a lot, and he would give you literally anything if you'd asked for it. He's down that bad for you.

"Really? I would really appreciate it, Remus," you say, happy about his help. You can't even think of how you could possibly thank him for it.

"Just give me a second," he turns towards his dorm, but he suddenly freezes halfway to the door.

Remus abruptly gets a better idea or well it depends on how well it goes. He just can't help his feelings for you any longer, and he needs to know what you feel, too. Even if he may get rejected, and end up with a broken heart.

Remus slowly turns around to face you again, a shy smile on his face.

"Or-r," he starts," we could go to Hogsmeade during the weekend, and I could explain it to you there. With something nice to eat and drink." Remus blurts it out in one breath.

Your eyes go very wide. Is Remus Lupin asking you out on a date or are you still very much asleep in the library, dreaming of this moment?

"L-like a date?" you sheepishly ask, blushing, and looking everywhere but him after your question.

"Yes. Exactly like a date." Remus states, looking nervous and hopeful at the same time.

You look up at him with a smile, you can't really believe that this is happening, " I think, I'd love that."

"Really?" Remus questions happily.

"Yes, really," you nod your head, sending a reassuring smile his way.

"Great. I can't wait," he tells you with a visible excitement.

"Me too," you admit bashfully.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow. We can sort out the time then. Goodnight, y/n," Remus says, giving you one more soft smile of his.

"Yes, tomorrow then. Goodnight to you too, Remus," you wave him goodbye, and quickly dissappear into your dorm before you can collapse on the spot from the way your legs have turned to jello.

You think you can hear pretty loud cheers of the Marauders as you head to change into your pyjamas. A shy giggle escapes your mouth when you think about Remus telling his best mates about your date, and them being so happy about it.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin

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morningstarwrites · 2 days

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i’m caving despite my social terrors to tell you how WRECKED i am over this fic

1) i’ve had my tumblr account for exactly two days, and although i’ve wanted to have one for a while osas was the straw that broke my willpower so i could follow you for details and gorgeous fanart

2) your writing style is so MMMMM like i WANT TO EAT IT??? AND BIND IT AT THE SAME TIME???? like im not joking i am by no means anywhere near skilled in art but i genuinely want to be JUST so i can draw half decent fanart

3) i discovered osas at like 8 at night, with the intention of maintaining a normal sleep schedule, and then stayed up until four in the morning wide awake reading until i couldn’t anymore. then i woke up the next day with the intention of still having fic left to read on my 8 hour roadtrip, and then finished it the day before, so now tomorrow absolutely won’t come fast enough and this roadtrip is gonna kill me

4) YOUR FIRST FIC????? FOR REAL???? WHAT???????

5) i’d like you to know NONE of this is normal for me with fics, the last time i got this into a fic was a year ago and it got abandoned so i have SO MUCH TRUST IN YOU RIGHT NOW

6) i ADORE how you write luci and alastor like somehow they’re so sweet and cute while still being completely in character and that right there is witchcraft, sorcery, wizardry, biologically impossible, but somehow you portray it anyway??? and perfectly?????

to summarize, AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHOH MY LORD YOU ARE AMAZING <33

omg 😭😭 I'll respond to you point by point:

AWWW thank you! I super appreciate it!

I'm happy to receive any and all fanart, so no worries there, but I'm rly touched!

oh HAHA at least I'll update tmr, so you can read something! but i've totally binged a fic before so i get it

YES, I had to get my feelings out because radioapple has such an iron grip on me omfg, but i was super afraid of posting this story tbh

I am absolutely determined to finish the story! I'll upload even if it kills me

Thank you, I did the most ridiculous amount of analysis on them... god... but anyway I'm glad it paid off, haha!

Super love your message, thx so much for dropping by 🤩

#radioapple #hazbin hotel #of saints and sinners #ask #osas

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covenofthearticulate · 1 day

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Louis/Lestat: “ after all you’ve done how can i possibly trust you? ”

asdgfgdvjkhsbslidfj sorry this one took me a hot second, these two give me brainrot.

"How can you—?!" It's not shock, exactly, that colors Louis' voice. Merely disbelief, perhaps a shade of disdain, an overall failure to compute what feels like insurmountable audacity as he's put on the line of defense against Lestat's question.

No, not question, Louis realizes as he watches something dark and cold settle behind Lestat's eyes. An accusation. Lestat is picking a fight.

"Please be serious."

"I'm being completely serious," Lestat spits like a viper. "After all you've done, how can I trust you?"

His temper is so terrible these days. It rears it's ugly head with so little warning, consumes him completely like some dark alchemy. It’s unlike anything Louis has seen through all their years together. He can't begin to comprehend half the things that happened to him in that human body, nor the suffering he endured to claw his way back to his old self, but the one thing Louis knows for certain is that it had left Lestat with a deeper, darker rage.

Perhaps if they were someplace else— back in the jungles of Brazil, or even wandering through the city streets— it might not feel so out of place, but here in the newly polished jewel of Rue Royale, it feels jarring. Reminds him of the old wives tales of whispering at the cemetery so as not to disturb the ghosts.

The whole room seems to quake with the magnitude of his rage— there's a trembling in the beautiful glass fixtures on the wall meant to emulate their beloved gas lamps of centuries past, a dead silence in the air save the relentless hammer of his heart. The hotter it grows, the more this whole room suddenly feels like a mockery, like a hollow doll house primped and gilded to hide the rot beneath.

(It was a foolish decision to move back here. They both knew that. Foolish to build a home seek peace atop the ashes of their old life. For one split second Louis looks down the corridor, half-expecting Claudia to come bounding down to chastise them for their loud, disruptive bickering.

She doesn't, of course.)

Nothing in the space now, except the booming voice of Lestat, ricocheting from the intricately carved crown molding with all the wretched demanding of a wounded child.

"How could I possibly trust you after you left me there— after you walked away when I needed you, begged you, for just one drop of the power that you and you alone could share! How could I possibly trust you after you watched her take the knife—"

"ENOUGH, Lestat."

For one moment, Louis' face warps into something terrible, something gnarled and twisted with anguish. Something childish and brutal, bloody red. And even as he swallows down the pain, Lestat is struck by the brief rawness of it all, the unfiltered grief from depths he has never had the privilege of knowing. It strikes a different chord of rage in him, this realization that Louis cannot trust him with the anguish, that Louis, insidious gentlemanly Louis, will not share these wounds with him.

"I won't stand for this," Louis growls as soon as the last lines of grief are smoothed from his face. "I'll leave, if you don't want me here."

Lestat scoffs at the empty threat, throws his hands up through the air.

"Oh, you infuriate me when you do that."

"I refuse to engage in a conversation when you've so clearly made up your mind."

Louis takes a step toward the door. He expects Lestat to follow, but when his path remains clear, there's a new wave of dread that grips his innards. He doesn't bother turning back to face him; he can feel Lestat's eyes on the back of his head, burning like ice.

"You were always good at running away, weren't you?"

"What would you have me say, Lestat?" He's teetering on the edge of resign, running through all the reasons in his head whether it might be worth it to dig in his heels and die valiantly on this hill or lie down and kiss the sweet earth as Lestat tramples over him.

"Would you have me apologize again? Do you want me to beg on my knees for forgiveness? What could I possibly—"

Before the next syllable leaves his mouth, Lestat is there, with icy claws digging into Louis’ jaw, pressing him up against the wall with such force, his bones seem to rattle with it as he’s knocked back.

"Sometimes, I just want you to suffer, Louis."

And there is a look in those eyes— those splendid iridescent eyes for which Louis had traded his soul away. Evil. Predatory. I want you to suffer, he says, and Louis knows that he means it with every ounce of his rotten soul.

It ought to scare him. If he were smart, or had a single iota of self-preservation, it would scare him.

But it doesn’t.

Of course it doesn’t.

Lestat won’t hurt him. Not in any way that matters, not now. They’ve played this game too many times. Even with Lestat’s hand at his throat, there is a gentle melancholy in the slope of Louis’ brow, a resignation in the heaving of his chest.

"But I do suffer," he whispers. "Why else would I agree to stay here, if not to suffer?"

There’s a moment of hesitation as the words slowly make their way past Lestat’s thorns, seeping into the manic beat of his heart. With the veil between them, Louis cannot hope to understand the meaning behind the pinch between blond brows, the movement of his jaw clicking back and forth. And even when he does release him, all Louis can do is watch with that same scrutiny as he turns on his heels and rips at the curtains in a sudden fit.

His movements are slow, clunky; not those of a vampire, but those of a frustrated child. The curtain rod crashes to the ground as soon as he pulls at the fabric, but even that is not enough— curtains in hand, he shreds the material between clenched fists, pulling and pulling and pulling through the drapes as if they’re made of the finest paper. Still, even the nest of tattered fabric isn’t enough, doesn’t satisfy the need to destroy, the ache to have something to fight back against him. And there’s a scream in the back of his throat that arrives at the very same moment he feels the warm sting of tears, and all he wants is to hurt something, to break something, to tear the beating heart out of his misery.

But then Louis’ hands are on his hands, and Louis’ eyes are on his, and, and—

"This is madness, isn't it?" Lestat rasps.

"Yes," Louis exhales so deeply it nearly sounds like a laugh. "Madness."

There’s a pause. Lestat stares at Louis’ hands covering his own. His skin is so dark now from the sun, or perhaps Louis is just getting lighter with age. Either way, they look equally ghastly clasped together.

"The drapes were hideous. I can’t stand it."

"The pattern doesn’t suit them, it clashes with the wallpaper,” Louis replies. Naturally.

“I need to hunt.”

“Yes, you do.”

Another pause. He lifts his head to Louis. A silent plea in those brilliant blue eyes. Come with me, come with me, come with me, please.

With a sigh, Louis releases his hands, brings one to Lestat’s shoulder with a soft squeeze, and even that is a mercy.

“I’m going to look into replacing the drapes.”

#[banging pots and pans] I <3 POST-TOTBT ANGST!!!!!!!!#I LOVE LESTAT'S ANGER ISSUES!!!!!!!!#WHAT A FUCKING ERA OF CANON GOD I LOVE THEM #anyway thank u for sending this <3 #;answered #drabble #drabbles #my writing #desertfangs #mine #loustat

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slayagami · 7 hours

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𐙚 synopsis: after losing consciousness in a villain attack, you wake up 2 and a half years later in the hospital. the time doesn't feel long to you, so adjusting to the new updates takes you by surprise. like your boyfriend of 2 years, izuku midoriya, apologizing that he found love elsewhere, in your best friend ochaco uraraka. you find refuge and comfort in your old friend todoroki, who visited you everyday you were out. does new love blossom or do you fight for midoriya back?

𐙚 pairing: midoriya x afab!reader x todoroki

𐙚 warnings:: mild violence, cursing, cheating?, love triangle-ish, angst to fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, depression, nonchalant reader but over thinker, reader struggles expressing emotions, characters are 22

𐙚 readers quirk: poison arrow. can appear a bow and produce arrows that are ingested with poison that can temporarily paralyze or slow down the movement of who was shot. effects lasts roughly 20 minutes but depending on the victim, possible to move but will be slowed down. quirk allows the reader to have sharp sight, and can see farther and more clearer than most. reader has to train to shoot arrows more accurately. strength of poison depends on readers emotions. hero name: artemis.

𐙚 a/n: slow writer </3 SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT im such a slow and unmotivated writer but thanks for being patient and im sorry if this sucks or is short! also went ahead and added to the tags, included people who were interested in the second part! 3.03k words

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ love again

you left the hospital in daze, bitterly rethinking of the harsh words from midoriya, reliving the uncharacteristic look in ochaco’s eyes. the thing that bugged you the most is the raw emotion in his viridescent irises, the way his eyes told you so much but was trapped. like he was under control. and it pained you, because you knew he wouldn’t be with ochaco if he didnt love her. he must be confused. you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but every time you tried reasoning with yourself you became pressed and bothered, eyebrows bunching together in discomfort. it was his choice to leave, his choice to move on, his choice not to wait. that underlying fact should’ve been enough for you to ration, but your heart weighed over your reasonability.

you walked aimlessly, taking in the change of scenery. it was winter now, or at least the cusp, as trees bare nakedly from the ground, the wind blowing coldly across the tip of your nose. it grew a hue of pink as well as your ears, and you silently cursed the hospital for allowing you to walk off without warmer clothes — or even a blanket. you took in the newer buildings that were placed around, or the updated shops that took over some hole-in-wall restaurants. it felt so familiar to you, holding a sense of nostalgia, even if it wasn’t all that long ago.

your feet carried you a long way, sniffling ever so slightly as the run of your nose. you glanced up at the penthouse in front of you, neck craning to eye up the several stories it compiled. you heart pinged, migraine oncoming. this place felt familiar, and it was almost at the tip of your tongue, but i felt like your body knew where to take you. knew where you’d find comfort. knew where you’d feel safe. grudgingly you stepped forward into the building, hair blowing in several directions at the different air pressures. only then did the penthouse look familiar, the lobby remaining the same as it did years ago when todoroki first moved in, asking you for help with some boxes and casual hang outs. you dragged your feet to the lobby, allowing your body and faint memory to recollect the door your friend lived behind. a funny number to you, something so easily remembered. 808. eighth floor, eighth room. you remember always commenting how the numbers looked like a silly face, a face that could be used as an emoticon during texting.

you tried your best not to stand out, sinking your head lower and sliding your hands in your pockets, slipping into an elevator, though thankfully it was empty. the numbers glowed softly, changing as it passed each floor with a soft ‘ding’. you rocked on the balls of your heels, roughed up black and white converse your parents had left you fit snugly with a double knotted tie. your eyes watched the numbers, slowly growing anxious. you haven’t seen todoroki in — for him — two and a half years. the last time you remember seeing him before the hospital was moving into this penthouse, carrying boxes with yaoyaorozu. oh yeah, you remembered, nodding to yourself, he was dating yaoyaorozu last time i was here. the elevator dinged softly, the speaker muffling a short announcement as the doors shifted open. your feet stepped onto the hardwood floor, turning a hard right and letting your feet carry you to his room, large ceilings aligned with marvelous paintings and chandeliers. you remember gawking at it when you first visited his place too, hopelessly praying you were able to achieve a living space like this too.

you didn’t even know if he was home or not. if he had work, or was on an errand run. you didnt think about much, just knowing you wanted the comfort of your friend, wanting to let him know you were awake finally with your own words. a gentle knock hit the wooden door, eyes glancing down to the doormat with a faded ‘welcome’ message on it, some stains of red pressed on the corners. it was quiet, no noise or rustle, no television or mumbling. maybe he wasnt home. your teeth nibbled at the bottom plump of your lips, the nervous feeling growing increasingly worse. maybe i should leave? you sighed and spun around, lowering your head as you walked off, hands back into your pockets. you made it about halfway down the hallway before the soft sound of the door unlocking filled the air, the gentle pull from the door with a quiet squeak. you froze, not knowing if you should turn around or keep going. but the familiar voice rang in your ears so softly, and you knew exactly why your body aimless took you here in the first place.

“excuse me? what that you knocking?” you can gear the tired croak in his voice fighting back a yawn, “did you need anything?” your body turned slowly, feet picking up as you walked towards him excitedly, that nervous feeling from earlier gone. his eyes met yours, the bi-colored orbs widening with shock, lips parting ever so slightly. for him, time had completely stopped. in fact, todoroki could’ve sworn he was still asleep, replaying a dream he had often of being able to see you again. seeing the radiance that covered your face, the way your arms were outstretched in a hug. but it felt so real he swore if he woke up, the whole world might as well burn.

your body collides with his, pushing him back a few steps before his head catches rest on top of your shoulder, perfectly fit in the crane of your neck. his arms held you tightly at the waist, your own arms circling around his shoulders and neck, sniffles and pants reaching his ears. he was shocked, obviously, but stayed in the hug, not daring to move an inch. the familiar hospital spent fills his nostrils with a weird ease, his hands softly rubbing the small of your back as you sobbed. he knew now this wasn’t a dream, far too real to be. and as happy and relieved he is to see you, he cant help the worried pain he feels as the shirt on his shoulder grows more and more wet, your chest heavily heaving as you hugged him and sobbed.

after giving you the time to recuperate, he invited you inside his home, bending down softly to help you unlace your worn out converse, a hand holding leverage on your shin as the other tugged gently at the shoe. you stood there, surprisingly unfazed, using your forearm to wipe any tears from your eyes while your flushed nose sniffled here and there. with your pearly white socks now stepping onto the soft carpet of his home, a cold hand tugs your wrist to lead you to his grey couch, expectant eyes finding your face.

he had so many questions to ask, so many things that filled his brain on what to say and what he wanted you to know, but he just stared. he let you take your time. let you breathe. the sincerity of his entirety made your eyes water once more, chest puffing out whiney sobs while you laid ur head on his shoulder, a hand holding onto his forearm. it was such a domestic hold, so natural between the two. though your cries were too important for him to worry about anything else at the moment.

you gulped inaudibly, taking a small breath. you began to slowly tell him everything. the moment you woke up, seeing your parents show physical signs of aging, midoriya rushing in, the stupid look in his green eyes, uraraka expecting you to give her your blessing, and finally not even being able to remember the fight you were involved with in the first place. time did not feel long to you, which is why its even harder to understand how much things have changed.

the entirety of the situation felt completely unfair.

shoto hummed softly, letting you talk it out to him. he felt the grip on his arm grow strong as the topic of your now-ex-boyfriend came up, his own feelings getting twisted inside his heart. seeing you cry over someone like him making a stupid decision, he wished to comfort you in a domestic manner yet refrained.

"i need to tell my supervisor i need a break. and to switch me to a different agency. there's no way i can still work with izuku after this." another hum, his back sinking into the couch. "do you have any ideas where you want to go? or how long you plan to take your break for?"

you sighed, the thought of it all already giving you a headache. your yawn filled the small silence, before responding. "agency? no clue. someone who wants me to become the best version of myself and not only wanting me to make their company look better." another yawn, your eyes growing heavy. "i need to consult with my doctor since i can't strain myself for a while anyways. gotta see what she recommends me, first."

todoroki nodded in understanding, noticing the change in demeanor. his blue blanket was folded on the arm rest of the couch, inching away from you slowly to not disturb you. he reached out for the blanket and slowly laid it over to your body. he muttered softly, telling you to lay down and that you should rest before you decide to go home.

"today was tough, so take a quick nap to replenish your energy. don't worry, I'll still be here when you wake up."

warmth enveloped you on a soft cushion, a light weight draped over your body making it unbearably hard to wake up. but with a groan straining out your throat and scrunch of your face, your eyes peered open slowly to look at the familiar apartment. the room smelled of some kind of soup, the broth being enough to make your mouth water. you glanced down at the suspect of the newly added weight to your body, a red blanket on top of your figure. it was weighted, along with a fluffy white cat balled up at your feet. in the kitchen, was todoroki. you can hear the clash of metals as she shuffled through various pots, placing them as quietly as he could on the stove, yet the smallest noise still ringing through the apartment. it felt homey. and it made you feel guilty. todoroki was important to you, but so was izuku. spending the night here, feeling and finding comfort in him, waiting patiently as he cooked you some dinner, it all felt wrong. you still felt the unbearable tie between your ex, and even though your brain finally understood that things were different, and that time has changed, your heart reminds you otherwise.

your hands picked up the ball of fluff at your feet, cradling the tiny baby in your arms to ease your mind. it purred softly, nudging its head into your fingers, its heterochromatic eyes of blue and green peering up. your socked feet scuffed its way towards the kitchen, watching fondly as todoroki lifted the ladle of broth to his mouth, taste testing his soup concoction. he winced at the taste, almost in disbelief at what he tried. who knows how long he's been trying to make this. with a stifled laugh, you offer to help.

"do you even know how to cook? let me taste it and I'll tell you what you need!" for being a pro-hero, him not noticing your presence was a little silly. he jumped a little but played it off, eyeing you softly. the cat meowed, jumping out of your hands and onto the floor effortlessly, rubbing itself on todoroki. it was a cute scene, his cheeks a pale pink and his ears flushed, the soft purrs of his cat and the disheveled wrinkles of his shirt was so cute. cute? oh, the guilty feeling is back again. your smile faltered as you walk to the pot, taking whatever leftover broth was in the ladle into your mouth to taste. you had the same reaction as him, grimacing in distaste. it was so bland, like, uncharacteristically bland. and watery? and.. missing every single spice needed to make it flavorful. you giggled, lifting yourself on the tips of your toes to reach into his cabinet, pulling out every spice needed and some other ones you wanted to try.

you spent the rest of the night cooking the soup, engaging in another game of catch-up over the past two years you were in the hospital. he mentioned the newer stores that opened near your home, or the stores that closed down recently or changed locations. because, of course he would remember all your favorite locations. he kept tabs on probably everything you had an interest in. he wasn't sure if that was good or bad, though. you listened intently nonetheless, nodding in understanding or gasping at the new news. he gave you updates about your friends, how mina went abroad to model for a partnership, or how bakugou actually mellowed out for once. he wasn't as invested in you guys' friends as he was about the things in your life, so there wasn't too much said, thought he said as much as he knew.

"oh, and yaoyaorozu? last I remembered you guys were together, no? we helped you move in here!" right. yaoayorou. he refrained from saying much about her. things didn't end well with her, and to be completely honest, he was to blame for it all. with an uneasy look, he pet his cat in his arms. shoto looked over the digital clock on the wall, 1:29 am. the story was far too long to explain. but he knew neither of you were tired. but if he explained it all, would you view him differently? he bit his lip in thought, uncertain and nervous.

"we broke up not too long after you were in the hospital." he breathed, allowing himself to get comfortable in the solace of his couch. "she said I was invested in everything but her, and that I never acted like a boyfriend to her but a.. placeholder." his blue and grey eyes peer in your direction, your orbs wide but focused, taking in the new information. you didn't want to believe though, you always believed shoto would have been a great boyfriend.

"she said that? im sorry for asking about it, but I'm sure you weren't as bad as she claims. maybe you guys were compatible, to she wanted more than you could give, y'know?" you tried to reassure him, but a part of it only made him feel guilty. he pressed on, thanking you gently while he continued his story.

"I visited you in the hospital every day, for several hours at a time. I went when I woke up before my shift, I went after, I went on my days off, I went on lunch breaks. I sat in the hospital chair, talking to you and sharing a meal more than I ever did with yaoyaorozu. My life had completely revolved around your well-being and it made her upset, rightfully so. I was never intimate with her, we hardly ever slept in the same bed. Our conversations were bland unless you happened to be brought up. Only then did I become interested, or it ended up in an argument. She said if I cared for you so much then why was I even bothering with her?"

the long tangent had you shocked, feeling the irresistible heat crawl up the back of your neck to your cheeks and ears, a hand covering your mouth as you watched him. he sunk further into the couch, almost sulkingly, clinging onto the white cat on his chest. maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the magic of being up late into the night, but he continued to talk and speak nothing but the truth. as bare and open as it was.

"I think my whole life has always been about you. but you were interested in midoriya. I figured it would have been a smarter move to move on from you since you were with him. and since yaoyaorou was the only person who could've been an option I half hazardly chose her and practically exploited her feelings for me to form a relationship, just to find closure in some one-sided feelings. that's why I visited you often in the hospital, and cut all ties with midoriya and ochaco when all those articles came out."

another look at the clock read 2:33am, before his eyes landed on yours. wet, big, and full of raw emotions. you let out a small sob, before sniffling and wiping your face, the faintest blush your nose. you scooted closer, laughing.

"if you say all that, I can't help but feel bad for yaoyaorozu. I can't imagine how that must've felt, for both of you. but i won't take your feelings lightly. give me some time, okay? things are complicated for me, too. if im being honest, hearing you say all those things makes me beyond happy, its almost embarrassing. but my conscious can't help but feel guilty, I still feel tied to izuku. I mean, just the other day in my timeline we were talking about marriage. then I wake up and find out hes with my best friend." your hands reach out towards the cat as well, scratching the top of her head as she purred, your fingers brushing up against todoroki's every now and then, before he decide to holds your fingers between his, his ow eyes never leaving your face as you spoke.

"I want to take your feelings with honesty. so just give me a little more time, okay?" even though the wallowing pain of guilt still continued to eat at you, you persevered and kissed the softness of his pale cheek, his face flaming up in red. he nodded meekly, giving your hand a squeeze.

"of course, anything for you."

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