#i am just complaining out loud. i enjoy complaining.

[2amriize]

⟡˖ RIIZE drunk confessions

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre crack, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

Shotaro didn't usually get drunk, but when he did, it was hardly noticeable, as his personality remained as happy and energetic as ever. Still, he had confessed to you that most of the time, he tended to forget what had happened while he was drunk, which is why he didn't like getting too drunk. He preferred to enjoy a party while completely sober.

That night, you and Shotaro had made dinner plans for your birthday, as he knew you had wanted to try a sushi restaurant for a long time, and he had decided to invite you as part of your birthday gift. When you ordered drinks, Shotaro decided to try a mango drink with a funny name, not realizing it contained alcohol. It wasn’t until you had finished the first round of sushi that Shotaro began to realize the drink wasn't just mango, which made you laugh quite a bit. You spent some time laughing at the way Shotaro was complaining about the drink, saying that it didn't mention anywhere that it had alcohol and that he felt deceived.

"Don't worry, Shotaro, you usually don't get dizzy anyway."

"But I want to remember tonight..." he murmured as the waiter placed another tray of sushi on the table.

You continued chatting while eating, sharing funny anecdotes and reminiscing about old times you'd spent together. At some point, the conversation shifted to the crushes you both had back in high school, recalling how Shotaro had liked a girl for quite some time.

"Aren't you curious about how she's doing now? Maybe you two might like each other."

"Not really, I'm not interested in her anymore. There's someone else on my mind."

"What? And you haven't told me?" you said, crossing your arms as you looked at him.

"No, it's just that..." Shotaro looked at you before letting out a small sigh, placing one of his hands on his head. "It's someone you know."

"Huh?" You paused for a few seconds, but since all the friends you shared were already in relationships, you looked at him, confused. "I can't think of anyone..."

"I don't want to say it out loud because I know I won't remember it tomorrow, but..." Shotaro looked back at you with a small smile. You exchanged glances for a few seconds, realizing that the person he was referring to was you. You couldn't help but blush and look away after a few seconds, nervously trying to change the subject.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

Seeing Eunseok drunk at your door was the last thing you expected that night. You had talked to him a few hours earlier, and he had told you he was going out to dinner with some friends, so you never expected to receive a message saying he was at your door at 1 AM, just when you were about to go to sleep. You opened the door in your pajamas and found Eunseok, who was a bit dressed up. You noticed his eyes looked a bit more tired than usual, and his cheeks were pink. It was when he walked past you that you realized he smelled like alcohol.

"Are you drunk, Eunseok?" you asked while closing the door, watching him as he sat down on your couch.

"Maybe. A little... quite a bit," he said, running his hand through his hair, messing it up as he laughed.

"What are you doing here at this hour? You should go home, you look tired."

You murmured as you returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for Eunseok. You sat beside him on the couch, shaking your head as you sighed.

"I know... but I started walking, and I ended up at your door. Don’t you think it’s fate?"

"What fate, Eunseok...? How much have you had to drink?"

"Not much..." he whispered, taking a sip of water before getting more comfortable on the couch and looking at you. "Y/n, actually..."

"Yes?"

"No, nevermind."

"Eunseok, you can't start a sentence and not finish it. You know how much I hate that..."

"Actually... I came here because I missed you, I really wanted to see you, y/n," he murmured, looking directly into your eyes. "Lately, you’re the only person I think about, I can’t get you out of my head..."

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

Sungchan loved going to parties. You weren't really a fan of them, as you got tired quickly and felt stressed when there were too many people, but sometimes you agreed to go to parties with Sungchan because you always had a great time, even if only for a while. That night, your group of friends had plans to go out partying, so Sungchan picked you up from your house to go to the club. As soon as you arrived, he immediately went to get drinks for you and himself. You spent about an hour dancing with everyone, laughing, and being silly. You weren't sure how he did it, but Sungchan got drunk way too fast. Even so, he was always looking out for you, keeping an eye on you in case you needed anything. Sungchan was the kind of person who became a bit sillier when he got drunk. He said nonsensical things, couldn't stop laughing, and made everyone around him laugh too. He just wanted everyone to be having a good time all the time.

After a few hours in the club, you started feeling like your social battery was running out. At first, you tried to hide it and hang on for a bit longer, knowing that if you said you wanted to leave, it would ruin everyone’s mood. Even so, Sungchan noticed that your mood had dropped a bit, so he leaned in close to your ear and said, “Do you want me to walk you home?” You felt a little guilty about making him leave, but Sungchan kept insisting, so the two of you finally left the club.

On the way home, you talked about silly things, anything that came to mind, goofing around as you walked through the streets. You couldn’t help but laugh whenever you were with Sungchan. At one point, when you were close to your house, you started playing “marry, kill, kiss.” At first, you picked people you didn’t like or those you really liked. In one of the rounds, you decided to include yourself and two girls you knew Sungchan had liked at some point.

“I’d kill both of them and marry you, obviously,” Sungchan answered with surprising speed.

“That’s not how the game works, Sungchan, you can’t kill both of them…”

“But I don’t want to kiss either of them. I’d kiss you too.”

You kept walking beside him, looking at him, confused by how casually he responded. You had gotten nervous at his answer, but he seemed completely calm.

“Sungchan, you’re way too drunk.”

“Maybe,” he said, laughing and scratching his head a little. “But I don’t lie when I’m drunk, y/n. I could kiss you right now, but I’d rather be sober for our first kiss.”

ᯓ★ WONBIN

"I think I'm a little dizzy..." Wonbin said, looking at you. His big eyes were gazing into yours, and his cheeks were starting to turn red. You couldn't help but smile and touch his cheeks, noticing how they were gradually warming up.

"That's because you drank half a bottle in less than five minutes, Wonbin," you said with a small laugh, pouring yourself a bit into a small glass.

Both you and Wonbin preferred staying in rather than going out, which is why whenever you felt like hanging out with someone but didn’t want to go out, you would always text each other. That night, you decided to meet up, drink some alcohol, and chat since it had been a while, and it was one of your favorite plans together. Usually, you'd both drink slowly and never get too drunk, but that night Wonbin seemed intent on getting drunk, which surprised you since you'd never seen him like that before.

"Your hands are really cold..." Wonbin mumbled after you removed your hands from his cheeks, placing his own hands on them instead.

"They're always cold," you laughed, watching how he was acting while taking a sip from your glass.

You both talked about your usual topics, sharing the latest gossip you'd heard about people you knew. After an hour of drinking, you could definitely tell that Wonbin was getting a little drunk. You loved teasing him normally, but it was even more fun when he was drunk because he looked so cute when he complained. At one point, both of you fell into a few moments of silence, and you noticed Wonbin’s gaze on you. You looked back at him, locking eyes for a few seconds, but when you saw the way he was looking at you, you looked away, feeling a bit nervous.

"Why are you looking at me like that? You're making me nervous..."

"It's just... you look really pretty," he murmured while still gazing at you.

"Don’t say nonsense, Wonbin, you’re too drunk."

"Maybe I am, but I’m not lying... I really like you, y/n."

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

You and Seunghan had gotten along well since the first day you met in class. I mean, everyone liked Seunghan because he was very kind to everyone. You couldn’t deny that you had developed a little crush on him, but you knew how popular he was and thought he probably only saw you as a friend, so you never said anything and had no intention of doing so. Your class group had organized an end-of-year dinner after the exams, so you had all met at a restaurant. As always, Seunghan sat next to you since he was the person you were most comfortable with in your class. At the beginning of the dinner, everyone talked about the teachers and different subjects, but as the night went on, the conversation shifted to gossip and confessions. On top of that, many of your classmates started drinking and getting drunk. You didn’t like drinking alcohol, so you were completely sober. What you didn’t expect was for Seunghan to get drunk, and what surprised you most was the way he acted. Unlike the others, who became much more active and loud, Seunghan seemed calmer. In fact, he was much more affectionate than usual, acting in a way you had never seen before. As the night went on, people gradually left. Eventually, only Seunghan, you, and a few others remained at the table, though Seunghan was already struggling to keep his eyes open. He had drunk too much and was starting to talk about random things, laughing at everything.

At one point, you felt his head rest on your shoulder, which surprised you and made you a little nervous.

“Seunghan… are you okay? Do you want me to call a taxi?” you whispered, glancing at him and grabbing his arm to keep him steady.

“Y/n... I have something to tell you…” he whispered in a low tone, gesturing for you to lean closer. You laughed and leaned in to listen. “I like you...” he whispered a little clumsily before pulling away and giving you a small laugh.

You froze, staring at him. Did you hear him right? Did Seunghan just tell you he liked you? After a few seconds of staring in silence, you shook your head, thinking he only said it because he was drunk.

“Guys... did you know I like y/n?” he said to the others left at the table, who laughed at how drunk he was.

Feeling embarrassed, you decided to call a taxi and grab Seunghan to leave. “I think it’s time to go home, Seunghan…” After dropping him off at his place, you couldn’t help but spend the whole night kicking your feet, thinking about the way he had just confessed to you.

ᯓ★ SOHEE

You loved seeing Sohee drunk. He was already funny normally, but when he got drunk, he became overly extroverted and energetic, which made you laugh a lot. There hadn’t been a party in months, so it had been a long time since you’d seen Sohee drunk. But that night, both of you had been invited to a friend’s house party. It had been weeks since you’d been able to hang out with Sohee due to your schedules, so besides being excited about finally going to a party, you were also excited to see Sohee after so long because you had missed him a lot. Not even an hour had passed before Sohee was dancing everywhere, jumping around, and joking with everyone. You loved seeing him so happy, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. You had been together the whole time at the party, but when you returned after grabbing another drink, you found a girl had approached Sohee to talk to him. At first, you felt a little disheartened, but you thought maybe this was Sohee’s chance to meet someone, and who knows, maybe start dating. You couldn’t deny that sometimes you wondered if you liked Sohee, but you always ended up with the same conclusion: you didn’t know.

You decided to go out to the patio to drink, as you didn’t feel like being around the others at that moment. You needed a quiet moment after dancing for so long. After spending a few minutes alone with your thoughts, you noticed someone sit beside you. When you looked, you found Sohee, who sighed and then looked at you, laughing.

“Weren’t you with a girl, Sohee?” you asked, looking at him while sipping your drink.

“Yeah... she came up to talk to me.”

“She was pretty cute, wasn’t she?” you let out a small laugh, nudging Sohee, who seemed rather serious.

“Well, maybe.”

“Is something wrong, Sohee?” You looked at him, noticing his cheeks and ears were a little red. Although Sohee could be very energetic when drunk, there was also a moment when all that energy faded, but he still remained pretty drunk. Most of the time, when this happened, you would stay up late talking about anything together. “Didn’t you like the girl?”

“No... Actually, I’m only interested in one person,” he said, resting his head on his arms and staring at you intently.

You were surprised to hear this and stared back at him. The two of you locked eyes for several long seconds. You couldn’t quite explain it, but you felt like Sohee was speaking to you with his gaze. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach from the way he was looking at you.

“Sohee... you know you won’t remember this tomorrow, right?”

“Then remind me, y/n, so I can tell you when I’m sober.”

ᯓ★ ANTON

You and Anton had never gotten drunk before, but when you were younger, you had both promised that the first time you did, you would be together. That’s why you were now in Anton’s living room. You had bought some pizzas and a few bottles of soju since it was the drink all your friends had recommended at some point. To be honest, both of you were excited, but deep down, you were a little nervous about how it would make you feel. To your surprise, after finishing an entire bottle of soju between the two of you, you only felt a little happier. Unlike you, Anton was acting quite differently. First of all, his ears and cheeks were completely red, which you found really cute. You also noticed that he was talking more, and his voice had changed. It was slightly deeper and a bit louder, which surprised you; though you could also tell he was struggling to say some things. After finishing the second bottle, you felt a bit more dizzy, but you decided not to open another one, seeing the state Anton was in. He couldn’t stop talking nonsense and was becoming very touchy with you. You thought that one of you had to stay a bit sensible in case anything happened.

You had already finished eating and were both sitting on the couch watching TV, with Anton’s head resting on your shoulder. At one point, you felt his gaze linger on you longer than usual, so you looked back at him, feeling a bit nervous about the way he was staring at you.

“Is something wrong, Anton...? Are you okay?”

“You have such beautiful hair, y/n…” he began to murmur, making you chuckle. “Your laugh is beautiful too, and your eyes, and your lips…” You both fell silent for a few seconds, looking at each other. “I think I like you, y/n.”

You couldn’t help but be surprised at hearing this, shaking your head several times as you felt your cheeks heat up. “Anton, you don’t know what you’re saying, you’re drunk…”

“I’m serious, y/n, I like you so much. I could kiss you right now…” he whispered, leaning closer to you, but you grabbed his shoulders.

“Anton… let’s talk about this when you’re sober…”

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor

[lovendermist]

You know how Hange is sometimes called Hans? I feel like reader finds it attractive and uses Hans to call Hange instead of the usual coupley ones

Can i request scenarios with this idea? I find it so adorable

Darling, what did you just call me?

Come again?

Type: Scenarios, fluff, Hange being called Hans

WC: 1,696

Pairing: Hange (or dare I say Hans) x Reader

A/N: Hnggg this is so cute. Thank you so much for requesting this! Also, I wrote this down (like, pen and paper) during my vacant time in college, which I thought was really interesting because I didn't think I would actually make something I'm happy with considering how sleepy I am during those vacants! I'm kind of proud of myself for that. Only the part by the end is the one written on google docs, and of course I edited some of the sentences online, but still! Hope you enjoy!

hange masterlist

Hange being called Hans :)

It took you a while to realize that Hange tried their very best not to make it as obvious that most of your actions and words had such effects on them, driving them wild with desire and with love.

It always starts in the smallest of things. A slightly different style in clothing or even a different earring, but of course, Hange never fails to shower you with all the affection they can give you. They just keep it at a certain level as to not overwhelm you, because god knows you won't ever be able to leave the room if Hange was in the mood to show you just how much they love you, how much the slightest change in appearance is enough to make them swoon and be all overprotective.

But it doesn't end there. What you've noticed is that what seemingly affects them the most is when you call them. Whether it's verbal or by gesture, you name it. Once, you stood patiently by the doorway, calling Hange over once their meeting was done, and you swear, you could almost see them squirm as they went to you, the glint in their eyes betraying their nonchalant stride.

The moniker "Squad Leader" and simply their own name "Hange" would make them smile. Or even if their lips didn't feel like returning your smile, it would be their eyes doing it rather sweetly back at you. Hange swears that the way you say their name is a sedative of its own, by the way the moment your voice reaches their ears, their shoulders loose a bit of the tension in them, their eyes soften, their entire demeanor turning gentle. Hange endlessly loves the sound of their own name rolling from your tongue. They don't say it out loud, but Hange wishes there were more excuses just for you to say it.

"Hanji", you called them one time, a slip of the tongue, but Hange -- or should we say Hanji, loved it. You suppose it's just the cost of having such a unique name, and you tease them about having so many names, which they giggle at. Hange especially loves how the "ji" part sounded; it was a little fast and desperate, they said. It always caught them off guard whenever anyone but you said their name like that. It was a rare pronunciation to hear from you, but god did they love it, and they'll never ever complain.

"Hans" finally slipped out one day, and neither of you expected it. Your tongue had messed up between saying their name and saying something else entirely, hence the amalgamation of such a name. Though weirdly enough, you didn't dislike the sound, and neither did Hange. And just as odd was how Hange immediately knew you were calling for them. They really do have a lot of names, don't they?

"Sorry," You shake your head with a smile at your own mistake, but it’s almost like your mind scrambles just as quickly to find another excuse to say the rather attractive nickname once more. "I meant Hange. Can you get me the spice over there please?"

Hange tilts their head to the side cutely, taken aback by the slip-up.

"No, no" They chuckle, keeping the spice you were looking for in their hand, eyes squinting rather charmingly. "Say it again."

"What?" You return their playful and amused smile with one of your own. You definitely heard them loud and clear, but it was bewildering how Hange was offering you the chance to say the name again just like that.

"You know what." Hange runs their free hand by your cheek, gliding their thumb up and down before finally settling by your chin, "My name, how you just said it." Hange squeezes your chin gently twice, smiling down at you.

You chuckle, turning soft at the gentle gesture before complying with their request, "Hans. The spice, please?" It's only been the second time, but the way it feels coming out of your mouth feels so natural and familiar already. Hange finally sets the spice by the counter beside you.

"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" You grow disappointed by the way Hange lets go of your chin as they reply, but your smile doesn't waver.

"Hans." You say it again quietly. You find yourself growing fond of the new name, and so was Hange. Or should we say, Hans? "Do people call you that often?"

Hange ponders your question for a moment, "Hmmm. Maybe once or twice, but it's the first time I've heard it again. And I have to say, it was definitely better to hear it from you, even if it was accidental."

You lick your lips, considering the option of making it a new pet name for Hange. You certainly liked the sound of it, and if Hange's not averse to being called this name, then why not?

"Looks like your tongue has a mind of its own, making that name without even knowing people called me that before," Leaning against the counter, Hange's eyes glint as they look at you, "It's quite unique, isn't it?"

"It is,” You say to yourself more than to Hange, and you can see them perk up at the mention of their name again, “Hans, huh…"

You were certainly going to use this as Hange's new nickname.

One night, Hange was being particularly stubborn and refusing to leave their work, using your very own desk and spending more time with their work and research than with you, the very opposite from what you two intended to do in the few days that they had a break. Hange's brows furrowed, eyes glued to the pages in front of them, a hand up their messy hair as they try to make sense of whatever's on the pages. Your patience was thinning, and yet all you could do was watch and call for them at random intervals.

"Hange." You called out, leaning against the doorway of your own place and watching as your own partner worked themselves away in the night.

"Just a few more pages, darling."

"You said the same thing like 3 pages ago."

"Give me some more time, alright?" Hange's tone remains stern, their eyes never leave the paper in front of them, and that's all it takes for you to walk over and press your hands firmly on the desk. Yet even with your presence in front of them, Hange's eyes are infuriatingly glued to their work.

"Hans." You called out at last, and to hear Hange's pen drop felt like a victory on its own. That, and the fact that they finally looked you in the eyes after what seemed like hours was enough for you to claim your silent success.

You smirk at their reaction, knowing very well how much of a hold that nickname has on both of you. Hange leans back on the chair after noticing your smug expression.

"You're unfair, you know that?"

"Not as unfair as you, working away like that and ignoring me completely." You walk over behind them, arms wrapped around and face snuggled deep in the crook of their neck, "Come on, snuggle with me in bed, Hans."

"You know, I don't know why, but..." Hange sighs deeply, lost in thought, yet a hand caresses your arm regardless, "That name has such an effect on me. I hate it."

"What name, Hans?" You start kissing the soft skin of their neck, to which Hange shivers at.

"That. Exactly that." Hange sighs yet again before finally standing up, twisting their body to face yours, hand lingering by your arm, "You're having way too much fun with that nickname of mine, aren't you darling?"

"Well, I mean," You let go of them, shoulders gesturing a shrug, "It's kind of attractive."

"You know," Hange says again, grabbing your hand and leading you slowly to your bedroom, "One of these days, I'm going to make you say that in bed–"

"Hange!"

"Oh?" A chuckle escapes Hange’s lips, noticing the switch up, "Why the sudden change of names, hm?"

"You’re so mean to me."

"Maybe. But you make it so fun to tease you."

Soon you settle down in your bed, but not quite done in saying the name once more, almost like a mantra in itself. 

"Hans," You whine, reaching out to Hange who was still looking down at you with amusement in their eyes as you lay comfortably on the bed. Hange soon joins you in bed chuckling at your sleepy demeanor.

"Better be careful and not say that too much in public." A kiss was pressed down your forehead, "It'll ruin the magic, hm?"

“I know, I know,” You snuggle closer to Hange, “It’s a… hot nickname, okay? Get used to it.”

And Hange does, as the days drag on. You’ve both taken a liking to the nickname, and Hange couldn’t be more happy to hear it being said almost every single day. They don’t tire of hearing it even after being used as a last resort when they’re feeling particularly stubborn and impossible to deal with. In fact, they find it endearing. Endearing for the reason that you’ve got them wrapped around your little finger and they can’t quite bring themselves to let go.

They don't dislike the fact that ‘Hans’ is what you usually call them instead of the usual, couple pet names either. They even think it’s more special that way, because you both know it’s just for them. You use it sparsely

You use it when you’re feeling needy, to which Hange will always melt at.

You use it when you’re reunited after losing them in the aisles of the grocery store, to which you’re unaware that Hange strays away from you intentionally just to hear you say that name again.

You use it when you’re sleepy and dazed and can’t be bothered to say their whole name (even if it’s just two syllables). Hange doesn’t mind.

But sleep in peace with the knowledge that whatever name you call them, just know Hans will be running straight into your arms at the end of every day.

[bluberimufim]

My nemesis, college, has kept me from writing the ending of DoS when I am literally one scene away so, out of spite, here's a snippet of the thing (derogatory) I have to write for my history of contemporary architecture class:

Colour is an often neglected theme, but one that is undoubtedly necessary in architecture. It is intrinsically linked to the expression of a work, being, sometimes, a recognizable characteristic of a style or language of architecture (some obvious examples would be the modernist architects and their use of white or the great presence of gold in many Baroque works). It is a theme from which it is impossible to escape, even if one does not make the active choice of painting (as an example, Giorgio Grassi said to have only chosen materials which already had a colour of their own, like brick, to rid himself of the decision) - all materials have colours and textures that will, inevitably, affect the reading of an architecture project. Fernando Távora was an architect of great influence in the realm of portuguese architecture, in regards to his writings and his built projects as well. His work is marked by the search for an architecture capable of combining the best aspects of modern and traditional in a new style adequate to his ideals. Much of this search involved the use of different materials and, of course, colour. Colour, on its own, means very little. What matters is the context in which it is found: the placement, the language, the material. For example: the residential neighbourhood of Ramalde, the convent of Santa Marinha, and the tennis pavilion in Quinta da Conceição all utilize white stucco on their exterior, but it would be erroneous to claim that this colour should be read the same way in these three works - something which, of course, will be explored in the present essay.

Fuck u. I wanna write about my two codependent besties having a terrible time in a fantasy land. And you force me to write about a guy I barely care about. Why u gotta make me do this?

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character

there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox

this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc

[screampied]

“tch, what are you doing.”

“hugging you.”

“i’m not stupid. why are you hugging me,”

sukuna grouses, his entire vast frame growing stiff. it was always like this with you. every few seconds, you’d be talking to him about literally anything and out of nowhere, your human arms just wrap around his waist. the demon stands still with the most repulsed poker-face, yet he doesn’t attempt to pry you off. for whatever reason, your warmth was surprisingly .. comfortable. you’ve got the cutest smile contorting against your features. burying your face into the center of his chest, the demon sighs, flicking your forehead. “oi brat, i asked you a question.”

playfully wincing at his gesture — you have a tiny pout. “you looked like you could use one,” and your arms briefly tighten around his slim torso. “also, usually when someone’s hugging you, you’re required to hug the other person b-”

“don’t tell me what to do,” and you gasp, feeling strong arms pull you in close. with an oof, you land right into his soft padded chest. your cheek tenderly rubs against the various ancient markings that paint and decorate his skin. the ‘hug’ only lasts for about three seconds before he pulls away, pretending to feel ill. a mere drama king. “disgusting. got me participating in such a revolting, humanly act. think ‘m gonna be sick.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic,” you tease, leaning into his touch. you’re met with a crimson-red glare but you could spot the vague pout forming against his lips if you squinted. out of all the pesky humans he’s encountered, no one was ever tolerable or worthy for his attention.

no one except . . . you.

a simple gesture as hugging makes him feel mushy ‘n soft inside and he hates it. loathes it, that dumb carefree grin that cheeses against your lips, the cute glimmer sparkling in your eyes. so irritating, so . . adorable.

as you rest your chin against his chest, you let off a tiny huff. “do demons not hug each other?”

“not in this way,” he murmurs, feeling an awkward lump brew in his throat. sukuna’s eyes suddenly avoid yours and you grow curious. not only that, but his body language changes. your softness was making him nervous.

he swears a plethora of inaudible curses under his breath, remaining rigidly stiff and refuses to move his beefy arms another itch. your arms wrap around him again and a huffing sigh makes his tense shoulder lower. with a grumpy grunt, his eye twitches and a single fang bares below his top lip, a sign of cute stubborn annoyance. “ack, you’re squishing me, human. release me at once.”

your chin swiftly rubs against the soft fabric that made up his personalized kimono before deadpanning. “not until you hug me back.”

“i am hugging you back.”

“no you’re not,” you giggle, burying your face inside between the opening slit of his clothing piece. his body heat tepidly radiates against you and you’re engulfed with his loud natural scent. the demon’s almost always naturally warm, your personal heating pad. he shoots you a vexing glare, nostrils flaring up in exasperation before his arms awkwardly pull you closer. “hey, not s- so tight, ‘kuna.”

“now you wanna complain? you’re gonna take this hug,” and you giggle, feeling him gingerly shove you into his broad chest, squeezing you tight.

sukuna sassily rolls his eyes at the audacity,

he’s never been one to participate in such ludicrous, but if it was with you, maybe it wasn’t that bad. sukuna stares down at you, a weird soft feeling pooling its way into his heart — after a while, he unwraps his arms from your body, ruffling your hair. “stupid.”

with a cheeky grin, you wrap your arms right back around his torso, nuzzling against his chest like you were a kitten. with a gruff groan, his arms suddenly mirror you, slinging around your waist, pulling you close tightly. how annoying, he’s starting to enjoy this little thing called ‘hugging.’

sukuna slowly adapts to the warmth of your body against him, a faint smile creeping on his face at your next adoring words. “love you ‘kuna.”

“you’re gonna experience a deadly cough in five days, brat.”

“huh?”

“hmph. i said . . i love you too.”

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 TELLING THEM THEY'RE PRETTY!

FEATURING: dazai osamu, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol

SUMMARY: telling the bsd boys that they're pretty! (wordcount: 3.5k; sfw; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i had cute dividers but this won't show up in the tags if use them D: ! i had sooo much fun with this! i hope you guys enjoy! :D

DAZAI OSAMU

You can’t seem to drag your gaze away from him. 

As a long day of work comes to an end, you rest your head on your arms and lean on your desk. Kunikida is still tapping furiously away at his computer, Tanizaki and Naomi are whispering about something together, Ranpo is sorting through his candy, and Atsushi and Kyouka are looking through files. But your eyes are tracing over Dazai Osamu as he leans back in his chair, lazily spinning and bobbing his head to the music he’s listening to. 

The setting sun casts an ethereal glow over him, his lips idly turned up and his lashes brushing his cheeks as rests his eyes waiting for the day to end. Dazai Osamu is pretty—you’ve always acknowledged that—but there’s something about the peace of this moment, the domesticity of the office and the ambience of the lighting that has you utterly enraptured.

He looks so at ease, and Dazai Osamu is never at ease. Even when he throws up that clownlike mask of his and spends his day entertaining under the guise of joy and humor, you can always see the strain in the corner of his eyes and lips. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible really—if you were anyone else, you’d miss it, but you’re not anyone else, much to his displeasure, because you know he hates how easily you can see right through him.

After a few minutes, Dazai peeks his eyes open—and you’re almost breathless, because his eyes are like melted honey beneath the sunset, warm and gentle, glittering with amusement. You think you can stare at him forever and never tire of it.

He rolls his chair closer to you, resting his forearms on your desk so that your arms are brushing and laying his head down on them so that his face is mere inches from yours, matching your position. There's a smile on his lips, soft and teasing as he whispers, "You've been staring at me for five minutes."

"Mhm," you agree, voice just as quiet as if to not disturb the tranquility of the office. You can feel his breath light against your face from the proximity he's laying at and you can smell peppermint on his breath from the candy you’d seen him swipe from Ranpo’s desk earlier when the other man had gone to speak to Fukuzawa.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks playfully, dark eyes glimmering as he waits for your response.

You can tease him back and say yes, as you usually do and is probably what he expects—and you fully intend to do just that but the words that leave your lips are not that. 

“You just look really pretty today,” you say softly, watching as his eyes widen just a bit at your words, pink dusting his cheeks. 

His lips part to say something but no words leave them. He opens and closes them a few times and you marvel because Dazai must know that he’s pretty from all of the attention he gets from women, so you don’t understand why he’s so thrown off hearing you voice it out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him genuinely speechless before now.

“So you don’t think i’m pretty every other day?” Dazai pushes his bottom lip out into an over-exaggerated pout, recovering swiftly from your words, though you expected nothing less from him. But you can’t help but note that his cheeks are still a bit pink and there’s something indecipherable in his eyes.

“Prettier than usual,” you amend and watch as the flush on his cheeks darkens and he instead resorts to completely burying his face in his arms with a frustrated groan.

“I am supposed to be the flirt, bella,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms as he hides his face from your view. He cannot hide the way his ears have gone bright red, and you have half a mind to reach out and tug at them

You lift your hand to your lips to hide the giggle that rises to your lips, scooching your chair a bit closer so you can knock your shoulder against his. 

“I’m not flirting,” you say. “Just stating a fact.”

He turns his head to the side, just enough so that he can give you a heavy side eye—you can only barely see the red hue coating his cheekbone. 

“Not mutually exclusive,” he says grumpily, and you lean down to press your lips against his now exposed forehead, smiling softly as his eyes instinctively flutter shut and his body relaxes as the touch.

Then, you receive a pencil to the side of your head. You yelp as your hand flies to where it had made contact with you, scowling at your assailant who is none other than Ranpo, smiling widely as he waves at you and then motions to Kunikida, who is red faced and staring at the two of you. You can’t tell if it’s in embarrassment or anger.

“Not during work hours,” he snaps, and you realize that he’s definitely embarrassed, so you share a short look with Dazai, who has regained that mischievous look in his eyes as he glances over at Kunikida and back at you.

Without saying a word, or giving any other sort of warning, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a short and chaste kiss, but his lips are soft and taste of candy, and you think you might be able to kiss them forever if you get the chance.

Now you’re the one flustered, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at Dazai, who is evidently thoroughly pleased to not be the one uncomposed if the unscrupulous grin on his lips has anything to say about it.

He tosses you a wink before rolling his chair back over to his desk, animatedly complaining about Ranpo and Kunikida being lonely and bitter and getting in the way of Dazai’s chance at true love because of it—you only roll your eyes at his dramatics, as you usually do when Dazai goes off on tangents, but it’s with much more fondness this time. 

•••

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

You are not listening to a single word that he’s saying. 

It’s a dangerous situation to be in with Fyodor Dostoevsky, you’re sure he’s noticed by now and he will be petty enough to finish his brief about his plans and your involvement and then ask you to repeat what he said, but you just can’t focus. 

He tied his hair back, you note, still quite a bit awed by the sight. There are two locks framing his face and his bangs are falling between his eyes, but the rest of his hair, which has grown a bit long in the weeks that he’s been ardently preparing for the final stages of his plan, is pulled back into a lax bun. 

He looks so casual, and Fyodor Dostoevsky never looks casual. He’s dressed in a turtleneck and loose pants as he leans back in his chair. There’s a folder resting on his lap that he’s idly flipping through and he keeps glancing up at you occasionally, pale lips flat and violet eyes disapproving, but you just nod along to his words even though you know that he knows that you’re not paying attention. 

And you think, distantly, that you probably should be paying attention because he’s talking about your upcoming mission and what you should expect from it but you figure you’ll be fine—it’s a simple infiltration mission, nothing to worry about. And you’d much rather prefer to appreciate Fyodor’s rare repose than to listen him droll on about boring topics. 

Sometimes, you think if he just kept his mouth shut all the time, he’d be perfect. But you think you’d miss his sharp-witted comments and the lengthy debates the two of you have after a few glasses of wine.

He looks extra pretty tonight, even beyond the casual hairstyle and clothes and his uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor, and you think it’s because of the way the flames of the fireplace are casting an enchanting orange and red glow over his face. It makes the violets of his eyes burn alive in a way that they usually don’t, you’re far too used to the glacial visage they take whenever he puts his attention on someone. Every time he glances up at you, you swear that you can get lost in them.

“… And you are not listening to a word that I am saying, are you?” 

Fyodor is giving you the heaviest side eye as he finally calls you out, expression unamused. His brows are furrowed and his pale skin is taut with thinly veiled irritation.

“Of course, I am,” you dismiss, waving your hand. “Infiltration mission, detective agency, get close to the tiger boy.”

Fyodor looks distinctly unimpressed by your words, brows deepening—you figure you must have spoken wrongly, you probably shouldn’t have been so indifferent, and you bite back a sigh before reaching forward to press two fingers between Fyodor’s eyebrows, as if to forcibly smooth away his annoyance.

He blinks and draws back, out of reach of your arm, and then casts you an even more irritable look.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” he accuses. “This mission will be dangerous, you’ll be at risk of being exposed every moment you are in the agency and if you are exposed-“

“Your plans will be ruined,” you finish, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes. “I kno-“

“You could be killed,” Fyodor corrected, voice cold and sharp, and you look back over to him. He looks unusually intense, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the appearance that the flames of the fireplace are giving him as they flicker dangerously across his face or if it’s because he’s that displeased with you being distracted. Either way, you find your mind drifting again because wow. “Dazai Osamu is not a man to be taken lightly. When he manages to figure out who you are and what you’re doing, we will need an immediate extraction plan.”

“Careful, Fyodor,” you drawl, watching as his violet eyes narrow briefly, “almost sounds like you care.”

Fyodor’s lips twist but he doesn’t respond. You raise your eyebrows, he looks away. Your eyes shoot open.

“You have a bigger role to play,” Fyodor finally says, but he’s no longer looking at you. “You cannot be killed yet.”

“Yet,” you repeat, amused. Fyodor’s jaw tightens, he doesn’t look at you, his eyes are trained on the fireplace to the side of the two of you and you can vaguely see the flames reflecting in his eyes, burning ardently against the familiar violet.

You lean forward again, shifting off of the couch to sit on the coffee table between the two of you so you can reach him. You reach forward to brush your knuckles against his cheek—he doesn’t move away this time, but his eyes cut to the side to watch you carefully.

You don’t say anything for a moment, absently tucking one of the locks of hair framing his face behind his ear. His hair is soft, freshly washed—for once—it smells faintly of lavender and vanilla and you wonder if he stole your conditioner.

“You look very pretty tonight, Fyodor,” you say quietly, and then smile. “It’s hard to focus when you look like this.”

The expression Fyodor directs toward you is extraordinarily blank, except for the faintest specks of pink that glare compared to the pallor of his face. 

He shakes his head, looking away from you yet again. 

“… You cause me much suffering,” he murmurs, and somehow, you know that might be the closest you might get to an admission of love from Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You smile to yourself. “And you to I,” you say, voice a bit teasing, and then you add, “Now, can you tell me again what to look out for?”

The moment is ruined. Fyodor’s eye twitches and he’s giving you that unamused look again, and you think having him repeat himself might be a mistake because now you’re even more distracted, but Fyodor sighs and starts on his lecture again so you force yourself to listen.

It takes about three minutes for him to release a sigh of utter suffering when he realizes that your eyes have glazed over yet again. 

•••

NIKOLAI GOGOL

Nikolai has a wild sort of beauty about him. He’s unpredictable and dangerous, and it’s widely apparent in his frenzied laughter and chaotic behavior. His eye glitters and his teeth gleam sharply beneath the glow of the moonlight as he waves his hands around, animatedly describing to you all of the details of the things he’s been doing while you were away. 

Fyodor’s masterplan has involved Nikolai apparently taken upon an infiltration role at the ministry of defense—you think it’s a bold move for Fyodor to use Nikolai for such a tenuous mission, but he’s apparently been having the time of his life with it. Though he thinks his boss is deplorable and one of his coworkers has evidently pissed him off beyond repair, because now he’s telling you about how he’s been ‘pranking’ the man in righteous vengeance. 

You think Nikolai’s idea of pranking varies from yours, because you’re pretty sure him using his ability to break into the man’s house constitutes a crime not a prank. But you don’t have it in you to make that distinction when he’s so excitedly telling you about how every day he’s been going into his house to move around all of his stuff and hide some of his belongings to make the man squirm. He’s succeeding outstandingly in his ambition, if the videos he’s waving in front of you have anything to say about it. 

You watch as he frantically scrolls to the next video—“this one is the best,” he claims, as he has for every video thus far. You watch with an amused smile as his dark-haired coworker steps into his apartment and nearly starts crying when he realizes that all of his stuff has been moved again, scrambling for his phone to call the police, who have—according to Nikolai—apparently already told him multiple times that there’s nothing they can do about it. The video is shaking wildly, as if the person filming can barely hold the camera straight, and you’re convinced that’s exactly what it is because you can hear Nikolai’s muffled laughter coming from recording.

Nikolai naturally finds it much funnier than you do, half-way keeling over as he wheezes, his laughter shattering the peaceful night. The two of you are sitting at a park near the apartment that Fyodor had leased for you for the duration of the Yokohama operation. The moon is high in the sky, casting a bewitching glow over the lake in front of you and there’s a chill in the air—it’s a nice night all around, you think there will probably some frost dusting the grass in the morning but the cold hardly bothers you now with Nikolai pressed to your side as he laughs himself into a near-coughing fit over his harassment of his coworker. 

“Why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai suddenly complains loudly, scowling at you, but even then he keeps having to bite back residual laughter whenever he glances back down at his phone. “It’s funny.”

“It is funny,” you agree. Nikolai gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you. “It is.”

“Then why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai accuses doubtfully, and then adds, even more accusatory, “You hate me.”

You’re not sure why you aren’t laughing, honestly. Usually you’d be burying your face into his shoulder trying to smother your snickers, because even though you might not entirely agree with Nikolai’s idea of a prank, you can still find some humor in it. Because it is kind of funny. Kind of. 

But then you realize that you’re probably not laughing because you’ve been spending most of the night admiring Nikolai rather than listening to him prattle on about his escapades and watching his poorly recorded videos, so you can’t fully appreciate the humor in the videos. With his cheeks flushed from copious amounts of laughter and his eyes glowing with excitement, you think he’s very pretty tonight—Nikolai is always pretty, but the angle at which he’s sitting leaves the moon haloing behind his head, and maybe it’s just because you’ve missed him the past few weeks when you’ve been abroad dealing with a territory dispute with Tolstoy, but you think there’s something special about tonight. 

“I don’t hate you. I guess I’ve been too busy admiring you,” you finally say, a playful smile on your lips as you tilt your head to the side to look at him. “You look pretty tonight.”

Nikolai blinks, eyes wide and owlish as he processes your words. The longer he goes unresponsive, you acknowledge that a quiet Nikolai is far more unnerving than a loud and erratic Nikolai, you’d expected a more… theatrical response to your comment. A swish of his cape, him leaping to his feet with a twirl and an agreement, even just a wild laugh; instead, he looks away abruptly. He doesn’t even just look away, he physically turns his whole body away from you. 

You blink.

“Nikolai?” you ask, a bit astonished when he literally ignores you. You lean forward, trying to get a look at his face, but then he swivels around even more and your lips part in shock. “Nikolai.”

You’re only met with a face full of his soft white hair, impeccably braided, as per usual—you have half a mind to tug at it hard to try to get a response from him, but you aren’t in the mood for the lewd comment that would likely spill from his lips after. 

“Koly-“

“Poor me, poor me,” Nikolai suddenly cries loudly, “The little koshenya mocks me when all I do is try to make her laugh. Poor me, poor me.”

His hand flies to his face, melodramatic as he bemoans your alleged cruelty. You stare at him, mind trying to piece together what exactly is happening—Nikolai is always hard to predict, but you feel like this is a bit strange even for him, and that’s saying something. 

“… What?” you start to ask but Nikolai has thrown himself into a loud and theatrical tirade about how he doesn’t deserve such injustice and how he was only trying to make you laugh, and how it’s so, so cold-hearted of you to taunt him when this is the first time the two of you have seen each other in weeks. 

Nikolai is impossible to bargain with when he gets like this, so you only sigh and tilt your head up to the sky, his words flying in one ear and out the other as you wait for him to settle down on his own. 

Instead, you swear the world is against you because rather than settling down, he becomes increasingly more noisy and distressed, and his accusations become even more asinine. Now, he’s saying that you’ve always had it out for him and how you weren’t laughing at his jokes because you hate him and want to report him to the police and how he should tell Dostoy about your betrayal, or better yet, he should stuff you in his cloak and leave you there?

You side-eye Nikolai heavily as he continues on, slightly alarmed, but brush off the casual threat as just Nikolai being Nikolai. You don’t know how to shut him up, you think you might be out here all night listening to him, and now you’re the one bemoaning your fate because how did a simple compliment turn into this. 

Finally, an idea strikes. 

You brace yourself, questioning your sanity and your entire existence before you interrupt him with a loud, “Quiz time!”

Nikolai goes silent instantly, head snapping toward you, eye even wider than before. 

You think you’ve hit an all time low as you say, “Was I trying to mock you before?” Nikolai opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can. “What’s that you say? I wasn’t? Ding ding! We’ve gotta winner!” 

You think Nikolai might be having an internal crisis. He’s staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time in his life—his lips are parted, his eye void of the usual mischief dancing in it. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what. 

You let out a long breath as you go to speak up again, but before you can, his eye is glittering again, sharp and dangerous, and his lips are curving up into a slow smile. 

Nikolai inhales and then he takes a complete one-eighty as he bursts into loud cackles and says, “Ahahaha! I knew you loved me!” as if he wasn’t just lamenting your irrational hatred for him moments before.

Your eye twitches. He begins a second tirade, this one far more embarrassing for you than the last. 

You regret everything.

[liliavanrougelover]

Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm?

Summary: Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm and how would they react to it?

Characters: All NRC students (-Ortho)

Warnings: none(?) (please correct me if I'm wrong)

A/N: I'm working on the Riddle SMAU, but it's taking longer than I expected. Enjoy these silly head cannons while you wait.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Yes and he’s grateful for it. His mother made him wake himself up. She didn’t allow him to get an alarm clock and just expected him to wake up, and that’s not exactly an easy thing to do. While he’s happy, he is used to waking up earlier than you. He probably gets up at 5:30- 6 am, I could never. He would either set up an alarm on his phone or ask if you could set one on your phone. If you set one for him on your phone, he would be grateful, but if you didn’t, he would understand. On the mornings where he wants to sleep in, he would turn off his alarm and let yours wake him up.

Trey Clover:

Yes. He would wake up to your alarm, but he doesn’t. Why? Because he has his own alarm. His alarm is set to the same time as yours because he’s not willing to get up at the crack of dawn. If you sleep through your alarm, he’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed. He’ll make sure he knows what you like for breakfast and he’ll make sure to make it perfect for you. He likes making breakfast for you so much that you may find your alarm has been silenced.

Cater Diamond:

Yes and it upsets him. He groans, flops himself on top of you and tells you to turn it off. If you do, he’ll nuzzle into you and fall back asleep. If you don’t he’ll climb over you and turn it off himself. If you want him to wake up, you’ll have to wake him up yourself. He has made a few magicam posts about your alarm. “Their alarm is the only thing I dislike about them.” -The first post Cater made when you first slept over. He tells you to turn the sound down or you’re never sleeping over again. The ideal volume is none. He’s asking you to delete it.

Ace Trappola:

It takes at least 3 alarms to wake him up and if you have that, he’ll be upset. He doesn’t like waking up and when he wakes up from an alarm? He’s not happy. He’ll reach over you and try to turn your alarm off while sleepily complaining. You can’t even understand what he’s saying because his words are all slurred and quiet. Once he’s fully awake, he’ll make complaints that you can understand.

Deuce Spade:

It takes 2 alarms to wake him and he’d be glad if you had that. He’s slept in more than he likes to admit so he’s very glad that your alarms wake him up. He’ll be a bit confused at first and ask you what that noise is. You’ll have to remind him to get out of bed or he’ll just sit there trying not to fall asleep again. He’s happy your alarms wake him up and he lets you know.

Leona Kingscholar:

It takes 5 alarms to wake him up and he hopes to the sevens you don’t have that much. If you do have that many alarms, he’ll be pissed. He’ll straight up tell you to delete it. He’ll make you delete it. If you don’t then he’ll send you back to your dorm. If you’re really adamant about waking up, he’ll get Ruggie to wake you up.

Ruggie Bucchi:

It helps him wake up. He’s used to waking up early to get him and his grandma breakfast so he naturally wakes up early. If your alarm is natural volume (not too loud, not too quiet) he’s glad that it helps him. If it’s loud, it’ll scare him. He grew up in a pretty cut-throat environment and he’s used to something trying to attack him. Please, turn your alarm down for him. If it helps you wake up, he’ll wake you up himself. Just please turn it down or turn it off. His poor heart can’t take it.

Jack Howl:

He wakes up earlier than you do. The first thing he does when he wakes up is go for a jog so he doesn’t hear your alarm. He doesn’t even know you have one. When he gets back after his jog and you’re still asleep, he’ll wake you up and offer to make you breakfast. It’s just bland cereal and milk though so if that’s not what you like, make your own.

Azul Ashengrotto:

He wakes up early. It’s what a good business person does. He’s very tired when he does though. He’s groggy and he’s trying to keep his eyes open. But, you see, he grew up in the Coral Sea. The Coral Sea is known to be a very dangerous place. Jade has said that it’s very cut-throat, so Azul has gotten attacked (probably) more than once. He hears your alarm and is sent into a full blown panic. He’s fully awake now. He shakes you awake and tells you that something’s attacking. You have to turn off your alarm and explain it to him. He eventually gets used to it. Remember to be patient with him when he wakes you up the moment your alarm goes off.

Jade Leech:

Jade has his own alarm. He wakes up really early but is still groggy. He’s thankful to have your alarm wake him up as well. He would wake up from his alarm and just kinda sit up in bed and stare at the wall, and then your alarm goes off and he finally gets out of bed. He’s especially grateful if you wake up from your alarm so he has someone to talk to while getting ready. (And he totally won’t convince you to wake up Floyd for him /s).

Floyd Leech:

Oh no. You need a new phone. The alarm goes off and Floyd lunges at it and crushes your phone. And when you get mad at him, he blames you. He tells you that you should’ve turned it off before it woke him up (Like he didn’t destroy it the second it went off). He’ll buy you a new phone if you can make him feel better after being woken up like that. Maybe turn off your alarm when you sleep over again.

Kalim Al-Asim:

He doesn’t have an alarm. He has people to wake him up so he never needed an alarm. He’ll wake up when your alarm goes off and thinks someone’s calling you. He’ll just nuzzle into your arm and murmur about someone calling you. When you tell him it’s your alarm, he’s confused. He thought everyone got woken up by other people. Whenever he hears your alarm go off, he hurries to turn it off so he can continue cuddling with you.

Jamil Viper:

He has his own alarm, but sometimes it’s best if he doesn’t wake up to it. His alarm goes off super early, like 5 am early. With how much he does, he’ll sometimes sleep through it. The first time you slept over, he slept through his alarm, but woke up to yours and he assumes someone changed the time his alarm goes off. Even though he claims that he hates sleeping through his alarm, sometimes he’ll turn it off before going to bed so he can wake up with you.

Vil Schoenheit:

He also has an alarm that goes off earlier than yours. He’ll be in his bathroom doing early morning skincare when he hears your alarm go off. He waits a few minutes before returning to see if you woke up. If you didn’t, he’ll wake you up and tell you that you should wake up the moment your alarm goes off. If you did, he’ll ask how you slept and tell you to brush your teeth, take a shower, etc. etc. (If your alarm is super loud, he’ll ask about your mental health).

Rook Hunt:

Rook is the lightest sleeper in the school. It’s his hunting instincts. In fact, if you asked him, he’d say he never truly feels like he’s asleep (He says it more theatrically). So, technically, no. Your alarm doesn’t wake him up, because he wasn’t asleep. He’ll tell you how beautiful your alarm sounds. It could be set to a tornado warning sound and he’ll still think it’s beautiful (just like you). If you don’t wake up from your alarm, he’ll continue to lay in bed with you. You don’t move, he won’t move.

Epel Felmier:

Your alarm wakes him up and he’s grumpy. It doesn’t matter what wakes him up, he’ll be grumpy. He needs coffee. He wakes up and just curls himself around you. If you insist on getting up, he insists you bring him coffee. If you make him get up, he’ll groan and complain, but get up anyway.

Idia Shroud:

He has his own alarm. He calls it “Ortho”. He’s used to Ortho coming and waking him up, so when your alarm goes off, and wakes him up, he’s confused. Was that his phone? Is someone calling him? Oh sevens, he hopes not. When he realizes it’s your alarm, he calms down. He had a mini panic attack when he thought someone was calling him. If you didn’t wake up from it, he just pokes you and if that doesn’t wake you up, he just lays back down.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus doesn’t know what an alarm is. Your alarm goes off and he shoots up in bed ready to attack whatever broke in (At least it woke him up?). You just have to sleepily explain what an alarm is. Every morning he forgets and still thinks something or someone broke in. Give him a bit of time to let it sink in. He’ll get used to it, eventually.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia has his own alarm. Five to be exact. None of them wake him up. So, why would your alarm be any different? Lilia is a heavy sleeper, especially if he spent the night playing video games. The only way to make sure he gets up is to drag him out of bed. He thanks you for getting him up and offers to make you breakfast as a “thank you”.

Silver Vanrouge:

It doesn’t wake him up. His own alarms don’t wake him and neither does yours. I mean, a loud alarm would wake him, but he’d also rush to grab his sword because he thinks someone’s attacking. You’re gonna have to wake him yourself. Just shake him awake and tell him to wake up. He apologizes for making you wake him up, and it’s best to just accept it. You can try and tell him it isn’t his fault, but he’ll keep insisting until you “forgive” him (there's nothing to forgive).

Sebek Zigvolt:

He wakes up the moment it goes off. He's up and ready to fight. He looks at your phone, sees that it’s an alarm and asks what’s happening. Just like with Malleus, you have to explain what an alarm is. He doesn’t approve. What do you mean you can’t wake up on your own accord? He thought that was just Silver. He offers to wake you up in place of your alarm. The offer is not as nice as it sounds. He essentially yells in your ear to wake up. The alarm is better.

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

[ribbonprincess]

🍯࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

note: road head (don't do that folks!) reader and Rafe refers to him as daddy,rafe is a head pusher.

You and Rafe are driving back home after a long afternoon of golfing,more like him as you were just admiring your boyfriend from the golf cart and sometimes giving him his club. He looked so hot with his white shirt and the few drops of sweat that you would occasionally see roll down the side of his face. So you do the only thing that seems right in your mind.

"Jesus,stop that- I'm driving,you're gonna make us crash!" Rafe's pushing your hand away from his crotch,making you whine as you put it back "please..wanna make you feel good rayray,I'll be quick! You just need to focus on the road,I'll be quick!"

Your boyfriend seems hesitant,looking at you before looking back at the road "okay...yeah,fine. Always need something in your mouth hm? Even while I'm driving." You're quick to undo his pants and pull the zipper down,pulling his dick out of his boxer and smiling widely before bending down to kitten lick at his tip. "thank you!" you mumble with your mouth full of him.

Rafe's eyes are stuck on the road as he tries to keep the steering wheel straight "jeez,what even got into you" one of his hands move to sit on top of your head,sighing shakily. "you just look so hot today,daddy- needed to have you." He nods to himself,pushing you down on his length "there you go...good girl" a small smirk creeps up on his face once he steals a quick glance down. Your eyes are glazed over,tears treating to spill over and ruin your mascara and he can see himself bulging into your cheek as you continue to work on him.

One of your hands cup his balls,massaging them softly making the man above you release a low growl "fuck, you're gonna get yourself in trouble princess. Behave" he says before pushing you completely down,your nose touching the small patch of nearly trimmed blonde hair "hm! Can't breathe rafey!" you whine immediately,coming back up for a quick breath.

"Hey,where are you going? back to work sweetie,cmon I'm close" you have no time to complain as he pushes you on him again,thrusting you into your mouth as best of his abilities "yeah...that's what I mean,nice and warm for me. Always taking me so well baby" your mascara Is now completely smudged all over your cheeks and under eye,making your lashes stick together uncomfortably. "help daddy out a bit baby" Rafe reminds you.

You're clenching your thighs together,moaning at the small friction you get "needy girl,sucking daddy's dick makes you horny?" he chuckles before giving you another small push "c'mon,I'll make you feel good later. Need you to focus on me"

Breathing through your nose you focus back on your work,pressing your tongue against one prominent vein that runs on the side of his dick before sucking on his tip,making him groan out loud. "fuck,yeah...'m so close sweetheart,so close" you look up at him,squeezing at his base with one hand while the other resume the work on his balls. Rafe grunts one more time before he's filling your mouth with sweet and sticky cum,making you close your eyes to enjoy the moment before pulling off him and smiling. "god...are you happy now?can't believe you just did that" He mumbles,tucking himself back in his pants with a low hiss from oversensitivity "yeah!I am,thank you rayray!" pressing your lips to his cheek you leave a sticky stain behind before settling into your seat like nothing ever happened "jeez,'m dating a freak."

[bahrtofane]

husband Jude headcannons

jude just really really enjoys married life

Word count - 2.3K+

Watch it - i got carried away sorry guys, proposal lore?? insanely sappy, even by my standards

—--

He's not a fan of you being known as his, rather he's your husband. Always correcting people during interviews and giving you the spotlight. Even when you shy away, not knowing where to look or what to say. He's always there, a gentle hand on your knee rubbing circles as he nods for you to continue. 

Every red carpet he wants to match, doesn’t care how big or small the event is. Gotta be a way you two look look a pair 

His fav is when you wear exactly the same thing so there’s no way to confuse anything for what it really is hehe 

Bouncing around while you get ready together, helping you get your shoes on while he tries his best to stand still while you fix his tie 

“Look okay?” he asks, head tilted 

You rub his arm, “you look great.” 

And he smiles wide, giving you pecks all over while you giggle, trying to shoo him away from you and closer to the door. your ride is waiting, but he doesn’t care. pouting for just one more kiss. please ? 

All his socials turn into your personal fan page, a big fat married in every bio, ring and all 

He has more posts about you then his actual job 

His teammates poke fun at it, “when are you gonna post us huh?”

He just rolls his eyes,”when I marry you i’ll think about it”

And that’s that

You're the first he runs to post a match, greeting you with the silly hand shake you perfected years ago. You think you could do it in your sleep at this rate. You came up with it ages ago when you kissed him after practice, playing with his fingers till he came up with the idea, and you with the actual hand shake. 

You're his biggest supporter, and him likewise. In every and anything you do, give him pompoms and he'd be your personal cheerleader at this point.

He just likes to have you at games. Waving obnoxiously while you tell him to pose. And he does, every time, sending hearts your way. He dedicates his goals your way. The kisses he would send the crowd in his youth now only go your way where you catch them like a teenager.

You see complications of it everywhere, he thinks it's endearing. He makes you watch them together on the living room tv while you grimace

“My face looks so weird there, oh my god.”

He flicks your arm, “you look great shush. Ha that was during el clasico, ah good times.” 

You roll your eyes but snuggle up against him anyway.

One of your favorite past times btw, nothing he loves better than a lazy morning in with you in his arms while he hits snooze on every alarm.

He tries to cook, with his stupid kiss the chef apron he got just for you. but he will need help, which you gladly give. You end up eating on the couch, covered in pillows watching cheesy shows. You've watched keeping up with the kardashians too many times to count and he still laughs out loud every time.

Jude is soft and sweet when he's not forced into a picture perfect smile and self 24/7. He's a silly guy, always trying to make you laugh. Teasing is his love language by the way.

But he's still sweet, leaving notes around your house for you to find when he has to leave for away games. Hearts and smiley faces littering every inch of the paper. Some frowny faces when he knows he'll miss you extra. 

He likes bringing you to family events and bragging about how cool you are, but everyone already loves you as is, he just likes to brag. Look at how cool the love of my life is everyone, I am sooo lucky you guys look look. 

Jobe has rolled his eyes far too many times, but he's happy to see his brother so happy. Plus you guys threw a fantastic wedding. A win is a win.

When you can't be there he facetimes you every second he possibly can. Blowing kisses when he has to go. 

“Judes been complaining all day I hope you know,” Aurélien pops his head into the screen. 

You snort, “ hello to you too Aurélien.”

He gives you a wave before ruffling the top of Judes hair as he pouts, fixing it just how he likes again, “they just don't get it,” he sighs dramatically.

You laugh, “sure baby, sure.”

You make sure to keep up with the match the best you can, texting him live reactions, even if you know he won't see them till later. He likes them all the same.

Your name on his phone is a simple "mine" with a bunch of heart emojis, the contact pic is one of the two of you together on vacation, smiling with your faces squished together while laying in the sand

It makes him smile every time. he thinks you’re the cutest

He's a big fan of nicknames, weather its a version of your first name, or just a good ole fashion baby. He rarely uses your actual name. He called you something so insane like pooki bear in public once and you have yet to let him live it down.

"in a restaurant was crazy," you squint at him.

He only giggles, "but it was soo funny baby come on."

Speaking of restaurants, this guy loves a good date night 

Gigdy as he comes down the hall in his pjs, grinning while showing you the new reservations, it’s your fav place ! 

Every anniversary he somehow finds a way to outdo himself, don't ask, because in truth he doesn't even know how he pulls it off, but anything for you. Anything. 

Even if it means hunting down the stuffed animal you had as a kid and couldn't find after you lost it in your couch cushions. He finds it, after months and months of searching, making Jobe help him look, it comes in the mail and he has to get creative to get you out of the house and away from the mail the day it's supposed to come.

It gets neatly wrapped and placed on your shared bed the morning of, surrounded by a collection of other gifts, your favorite flowers, and a cheesy note that you always end up crying at. 

The look on your face makes it all worth it, when you tackle him in a bone crushing hug, tumbling into the covers in a tangle of legs while you laugh in between sniffles, he loves you. Oh how he loves you 

It's been a tradition to end the night with the very place he proposed, his home, now yours. 

He doesnt think he could forget it even if he tried. It was a whirlwind of a day. Picture this: 

He's lost all his black socks, his (and your) favorite body wash just spilled all over the shower, his hair looks awful ( he got a haircut that morning), his cologne isn't where he left it, and the private chef he hired isnt replying. All while you're not even awake yet. 

He calls his mom because what else are you supposed to do when you're set to propose and everything is going wrong. 

She only chuckles softly over the phone, “calm down jude, just breathe. You'll find your things, just take a breather and come back to things with a clear head okay?”

So he does. Sitting on his bed, towel still on, frowning. He chooses to instead pat himself dry, get dressed, and give himself a pep talk in the floor length mirror at the corner of his room. 

Turns out his mom was right, things fix themself for the most part, his socks are stuck at the bottom of the dryer, his hair isn't as bad as he thought, he finds a better cologne in his collection, and a perfect body cream. It's gonna be a good day. 

He finishes the last of the day of prep, getting fancy candles, a lighter, and greeting the decorator. Yes he hired a decorator. 

It's nothing over the top, just little changes to make his home look a little softer, changing out the curtains, placing lace table cloth with details in your favorite color. The main event is his second living room that gets covered in an arch of your favorite flowers, gentle curling to just kiss the top of the new antique chandelier that will be holding the fancy candles too. He hopes you like it. He really really hopes you like it.

He's had this planned for ages, since the moment he first met you he thinks. 

When you greet him with a silly good morning text he only grows oh so fond of you, excited to see you. He told you it was a fancy dinner at his place. A change of pace from the resurates. Both of you prefer a much more intimate night in then cameras shoved into your face while a hundred people all yell a hundred things while you're trying to chew your food. 

So you get ready, dress up and make it for dinner. When you see the familiar face of the chef, Karlos, you give him a wave and get seated. Noticing the new table cloth but you don't say anything. You don't want to be wrong so early into the night. 

Jude comes in, nervous as a school boy as he takes your hand for a quick peek, running around like a maniac back and forth. He looks nice, in a signature all black suit, and smelling amazing per usual. 

Dinner is amazing, full of your favorite courses and Jude is jittery in his seat. 

“You okay?”

He nods, a little too fast, “oh yeah. I am. Don't worry.”

You raise a brow but dont push, thanking Karlos for the amazing meal as he cleans up and heads out for the night. 

Jude gets up, telling you to stay put while he'll be righttt back. Don't worry, remember! 

He comes back, unable to meet your eyes while he gives you his hand. You take it, sliding out of your seat and following him down the hall. There's flower petals on the floor now, you look at him, but he looks anywhere but at you, chewing his cheek.

He leads you to the second living room, where the furniture has been cleared out. Replaced by a walkway of flowers and candles, leading up to where an arch of your favorite flowers hugs the curtain, new ones.

Gently pulled back to reveal the floor to ceiling windows that give way to his yard. And the most gorgeous sunset you have ever seen. A chandelier hangs above you, decorated with more flowers, and the most ornate candles and bulbs you have ever seen.

Your eyes begin to water before he even gets down on one knee, his lip wobbles, holding your hand the whole time as he confesses every little moment and reason for his love.

He loves you, he adores you. You're- youre everything. Truly and fully. You're the sunlight that kisses his skin, the stars he wishes to touch, to know, he yearns for you. Years to know you in your entirety, till he knows nothing else but you. For your name to only fully know his lips, for only he will fully know you. He sees no other, he knows no other. He wants- no needs, to give himself as he is. 

You see him, see him as more than just Jude Belingham. You see what others can not, will not. You see him, you know him. You know him better than he knows himself most days. You've seen all there is to see, all that makes him who he is. You know his stupid sandwich order at the place you hate but keep going to because you know how much he loves it.

You sit in freezing weather for the full game just to make sure you don't miss a second of him. The first to congratulate him, the first to mourn with him, the first to sooth his aches and pains. You're the face he looks for in a crowd, you're the first person he calls when anything happens. 

 And you love him with such ferocity it amazes him. 

You're full crying at this point, fat tears rolling down your cheeks till you can barely see him, and he finally gets down on one knee, fishing out a small velvet box from his inner pocket, opening it with shaky hands.

And he whispers, “will you marry me?”

You fall next to him, sobbing into his shoulder while you repeat yes over and over. He cries with you, till you're both laughing from pure joy. 

Who better to spend the rest of your life with then the man who loves you so?

Telling his family is the best part. You have them over for what was supposed to be a quick lunch, turned dinner, and you break the news at dessert, showing off your ring while they all gasp. 

They pile you into the biggest hug, smiles so wide they hurt and you laugh, you're going to get married! You think they just might be more excited than you are.

Wedding planning comes and goes both so fast and so slow. Youre so excited you can't wait, and yet every step of the way seems like it takes excruciatingly long.

Your wedding planner tries her best, bless her soul, but you want it to be completely and utterly perfect. Down to the types of chairs at the venue.

Jude lets you have your way for the most part, chiming in now and again, he trusts you fully. Knowing you're going to make it the best regardless. 

Leading up to the big day you think you just might pass out from stress and never be seen again, but the almost year of planning pays off, and you're married! 

The honeymoon is spent traveling all over while jude is wide-eyed, unable to believe he's married to you of all people. 

The press catches on soon after, even if your wedding was small and intimate. News comes out one way or another.

Jude only responds with a picture of you two slow dancing among your family and friends, captioned, “all you need to know.” and he pins it to every social media page. 

What a man huh?

[yawnderu]

Simon's eyes crinkle the moment he sees your sleeping figure, curled up on the foot of his bed with your tail protectively tucked into your body, tiny snores leaving your body as you snooze away, likely on your nth nap of the day.

With the same stealth Ghost uses in the enemy backlines, Simon moves closer to you, letting the anticipation build up inside him as he watches your soft features, a calm expression finally on your pretty face— yet the mischievous urge to ruin it took over.

His rough, calloused hand goes down to your tummy, instantly startling you awake, your eyes narrowing the moment they meet his. What used to be a calm expression is now a sour one, nose and brow scrunched up in pure annoyance at being woken up.

Your expression doesn't stop Simon's hand from trying to play with your tummy, trying to rile you up— and it instantly works, your murder mittens grasping his hand tightly as you give his hand warning love bites, switching positions only to be able to bunny kick his arm and toned stomach with your back paws.

“Ow, fuck—” Simon is quick to play along, trying to move his hand away only for your paws to hold it tighter, the playful jabs to his stomach feeling like nothing other than a massage for a man his size. He can't help the amused smirk pulling at his lips, letting you do your thing and knowing that you'll soon stop and calm down, but enjoying the moment while it lasted.

“I was napping.” You complain, scrunching your nose at him the moment you decide to finally let go of his hand, though your fluffy footpaws are resting on his chest, pushing him away whenever he tries to walk closer to you.

“'N you're awake now. You'll live.” He teases, unable to hide the mirth in his voice at the little yawns escaping your lips. His large hands grip your ankles, pulling your legs apart before he folds your body, holding your knees close to your chest while looking down at you with a small smirk.

“Who's in charge here, love?” His expression turns cockier by the second when you try to squirm away only to be pinned down by his body weight, your calves resting on his strong shoulders.

“I am.” Your confident reply only eggs him on, wanting to push your buttons just to see that bratty face some more. You're always so assertive, only making him want to get more reactions out of you.

“That right?” Your tail is flicking in annoyance, cat ears flattened against your head as you nod, poking your tongue out at him, yet not trying to get out of his hold. Simon is too heavy.

“Kiss me or I'll tickle you.” He threatens playfully, his brown eyes crinkling when he sees you try to suppress a smirk, masking it with a loud meow of protest despite obeying seconds later. You steal a peck from him— too rough and fast, yet the small kiss is a victory in Simon's book nonetheless.

“That's a good girl.” Simon's lips crashed against yours before you could quip. He broke away from the kiss only to allow you to get into a more comfortable position, your legs wrapped around his waist as your paw rests on the back of his head, pulling him in for another steamy kiss.

“You sure you wanna do that?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, not even bothering to hide the smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he sees you fully focused on kneading the only soft part of his body— his balls. Your nails aren't digging deep at all, barely even passing the thick fabric of his jeans as you nibble on his shirt, nodding your head.

He leans back on the pillow, relaxing and taking in the pleasant sensation of your kneading— only to be smacked in the head with your paw multiple times not even seconds later once you realize he's getting hard from it.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello hello! I dunno if you’re taking request but I was thinking if you can write smth silly about reader pulling the “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine” trend on Ford :3

You didn’t know how you had gotten put in this predicament where you were standing behind Ford, all the while Mabel was hiding behind the doorway -phone in hand- as she gestured for you to grab Ford by his waist and pull him in close.

Oh wait you did know exactly how you had gotten in this because Mabel came up to you that very same morning, phone in her hand as though it was super glued there, as she shown you this trend couples were doing for public validation and praise; and or to rub their relationship in the publics face.

‘What am I-‘

‘Just watch.’ Mabel exclaimed as she pointed to her phone that she had shoved under your face just as the man grabbed his girlfriend by the waist and pull her in close in tandem with the lyrics; ‘fellas grab your ladies if your ladies fine.’ Just as the video ends and goes back to the beginning.

‘And what was I meant to take away from that exactly?’ You questioned, not understanding the point of anything that was presented to you, especially so early in the morning where all you wanted to do was enjoy your morning drink without having to think so hard. However there’s never been a quiet morning in the Pines household in the history of forever, and each time a member of the Pines Family was usually the source of the unrest.

Ford trying to catch his anomalies that somehow snuck into your room

Stan loudly complaining about his aging body while burning the pancakes because he wasn’t paying attention to it.

Wendy’s loud ass snores. She’s always hanging out at the shack so often you might as well consider her apart of the family as well alongside Soos, Candy and Grenda.

Dipper being Dipper

And now Mabel with this supposedly popular couples trend. You couldn’t catch a break but you loved this family and Ford too much to care about how early it was for their shenanigans.

‘You and Ford should totally do the trend!’ Mable said as she beams at you. ‘The people would love a cute nerdy couple like you two!’

You chuckled as you ruffled the energetic girls’ hair affectingly. ‘I highly doubt your Grunkle Ford would want any part in it, he’s been in the lab all week on a recent discovery. What it is he wouldn’t tell me. He only ran into our room one day to scream THEY’RE PROCREATING and left for the lab.’

‘Please! Please! Please!’ Mabel cried as she clasped her hands together and gave you the cutest pair of puppy eyes ever as you felt your resolve crumble the longer you stared into your niece.

‘Fine.’ You playfully groaned as you allowed the young girl to drag you by your arm and lead you down into the lab where Ford was, only to shove you awkwardly close to Ford while she hide near the doorway, phone in hand.

‘Hello darling.’ Ford greeted without looking up from his work, he claims he could tell apart your footsteps from the rest of his family, but you just assumed that Stan or Dipper or Mabel kept coming down and Ford took the opportunity to learn how each of his family sounded when coming down the stairs through specific things they did.

‘Hello sweetheart.’ You greeted back as you could see Mabel practically on the brink of bursting into confetti with how hard she tried to contain her excitement.

‘Grab him by the waist.’ Mabel mouthed, her eyes becoming comedically large glittery stars. ‘Grab him by the waist!’

You looked back at Ford who was leaned over his desk, looking over his work throughly with his brows furrowed and his glasses slightly drooping off his nose. He looked handsome when he was concentrating but in your eyes Ford was always handsome even when he was explaining to you dungeons, dungeons and even more dungeons.

You looked back at Mabel who had her phone In front of her -most likely recording you- before you took a deep breath and brought your hand to Ford’s waist, quickly pulled him close to you so that his back rested against your chest. Poor Ford was a flustered mess, his cheeks were aflame, his eyes were wide and you could feel how stiff his body was against yours, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked in the moment.

‘What’s the meaning behind this y/n.’ Ford asked as he tried to calm his excepted heart rate and regain composure.

You kissed his cheek before nuzzling it slightly. ‘Did you catch all that Mabel?’ You asked, much to Ford’s confusion. ‘Mabel?’

‘Yes! I caught all of that!’ She cried as she popped out from her hiding spot, ‘this is going on the family group chat!’ She adds as she bolts up the stairs giggling and squealing to herself at how cute you and her grunkle Ford were, leaving you and Ford alone.

‘Sorry sweetheart, her puppy eyes are my weakness.’ You confessed as you rested your head against his shoulder, still holding onto his waist and breathing in his scent that never failed to relive you and any and all stress. Ford chuckled as he moved his head to kiss the top of yours, smiling fondly at your weak spot for his grandniece and nephew. ‘It’s alright darling, just let me know next time before you do something so bold, my old heart can only take so many surprises.’ He joked as he rested his hand atop of your own, rubbing the back of it soothingly.

‘I promise.’ You mumbled softly against his shoulder. ‘But you did look cute all flustered, do you like being grabbed by the waist?’ You then asked, only to receive silence on Ford’s and, which made you life your head from his shoulder to see that he was cover the lower half of his face with his hand.

‘Cute.’ You thought yourself, you might do this more often if this is the response you get, it was a power trip you didn’t know you needed over your cute but extremely smart fordsy.

[suckerforblondeathletes]

Drunken promises- Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x Fem!reader

Summary: You get a call from Leah while she is at the bar and you fight to get her in bed.

Warnings: None!

Authors note: hope you enjoy this while my others are being worked on!!

‘Baaaabe’ I hear Leah whine over the phone, loud music and conversations in the background.

She was out clubbing with some teammates and apparently got really drunk.

You on the other hand, were laying in bed, cozy and warm and asleep when she called you at 12:21 am.

You woke up to the loud noise coming from your phone and groan when you went to grab it.

Concern went over your face when you saw Leah contact, wondering if she’s okay.

‘Hey baby, what are you doing.’ You say softly, still half asleep. Eyes closing while you wait for an answer.

‘Just wanting you to come and dance with me…. I miss you SOO much I’m so upset.’ Leah speaks sloppily, her words mixing together and hard to understand.

‘I can’t come and dance with you but I can come get you?’ Leah groans when she hears that, you hear her speak to someone on the other side of the phone arguing about different liquors as you get up to get some proper clothes on instead of Leah’s hoodie and shorts.

‘Baabe are you still there?’ She screams into the phone making you wince at the loud noise.

‘Yes i am, i am getting ready to come get you.’ Leah cheers on the other side of the phone like she won something, making you laugh to yourself.

‘Guys my girlfriend is coming to get me!!’ She yells across the club drunkenly.

You hear movement in the other side of the phone and Leah complaining as Beth starts talking over the phone.

‘Hey yes please come and get her. She was standing in the booth singing.’ She laughs as Leah try’s to get the phone back.

‘I’m on the way, I will text you Beth when I’m close.’

You hung up the phone and get in your car. Driving to the club and texting Beth like you promised.

You pull up to the front and see Leah dancing to the music coming from inside the club, and Beth who looks like she is over it.

‘Babyyyy!!’ Leah cheers and runs up to the car, tripping but falling onto your rolled down window to brace herself.

‘Hey love, you ready to go?’ You get out and grab the taller girls waist, holding her strait.

‘Ouuu I like this’ Leah winks at you and leans in to kiss you, you dodge it and turn to Beth, seeing her roll her eyes and smile at you.

‘Good luck’ she says before walking back inside.

‘Thank you!’ You after Beth and start focusing on the blonde kissing your cheek.

Leah wraps her arms around your shoulders and gives you a hug, you return the hug before walking her to the passenger side.

‘I missed you.’ Leah says softly as you put her in the car, this was the point in her drunken state where she gets upset.

‘I missed you too baby, let’s go home.’ You kiss her forehead and close the door, walking to the other side and getting in.

During the drive Leah speaks up again.

‘I love you so much.’ She says and grabs your hand to hold hers. Smiling, you bring her hand up to you mouth to kiss.

‘I love you too. Get some sleep I will wake you up when we get home.’ Leah’s eyelashes flutter closed and she drifts off to sleep quite quickly.

-

‘We’re home Leah’ you tap her shoulder to wake her up, the mumbles something incoherent and turns over to face the window.

You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing this was going to take some effort. When Leah is asleep she wants to stay asleep and it takes a lot to wake her up.

‘Leah come on’ you get out of the drivers seat and walk over to her side, opening the door and tugging on her arm.

‘Stop’ She grumbles and turns her face to the seat, looking away from you.

You think about other ways to get her out of the car and one pops in your mind.

‘I’m going to shower by myself.’ You say before walking away from the open door and Leah pops her head up immediately.

She gets out and sloppily walks up to you.

‘Nooo why.’ She whines, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into her.

You laugh and unlock the door.

‘Leah let’s go.’ I tap her hands. But she did the opposite and tightened them around you.

You huffed and tugged both of y’all through the door, you walk to the couch and lay her down, since she had fell asleep on your back.

You went to the kitchen to make her some water and some Tylenol for when she wakes up hung over.

You walk back to the living room and try to wake her for a shower, which didn’t work this time.

So you went ahead and took one alone, and we’re currently brushing your teeth when arms came around your toweled form.

Blonde hair peeks out from behind your back and lays down on your shoulder.

‘Did you drink the water I gave you?’ You say after rinsing your mouth and now your stood there with her.

She nods and turns you around to see you in her hoodie and shorts like earlier.

‘Can we go to sleep?’ She mumbles and you hands go to run through her blonde locks.

‘Mhm come one’ You press a kiss to her cheek and temples before walking out of the bathroom so she can brush her teeth.

Sliding in bed you hear the water turn off and the blonde walks out and into the dark room to y’all’s bed.

She gets in and scoots to your open arm with exhaustion written on her face from partying.

You press a kiss to her fore head and run your hand up her back, the other in her hair.

‘I love you’ She mumbles half asleep.

You smile. ‘I love you too, now go to sleep.’

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ love and deepspace men and their random habits

warnings: none!!

characters: rayafel, xavier, zayne, sylus

link to master list here!

author’s note: feeling like a short and sweet one today, sometimes writing more than i want can take the fun out of writing so i’ll stick true to myself this time 🗣️

more below the cut! ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

he like, drums his fingers a lot. you know like that rhythmic tapping on desks?

rafayel enjoys moving around his fingers and stimulating his brain in little ways whilst he’s waiting for some paint to dry to paint another layer or when waiting for you to finish an activity.

he also picks at things, paint on the wall or at scabs (bad habit, you tell him but he never stops) - he complains and says it doesn’t hurt when you bandage it up

rafayel hates growing out his fingernails but he doesn’t bite them, he tends to pick them until they peel shorter then clip them neat with nail clippers

how to combat both his picking habit and nail peeling at the same time? slap on some nail polish, he gets to peel to his hearts content and look amazing at the same time!

“Cutie, come here. I peeled off all my nail polish, can you redo it?”

i feel like in game xavier already blinks quite a lot more than all the LIs, but i can see him also doing those like, long hard reset blinks

he’ll blink loads at once then do this longer blink and then be fine, i can just see him doing this

maybe it’s because his hair looks like it’d get in and irritate his eyes lolol

when you and him get plushies he keeps the ones he keeps on his bed, i feel like he’s usually minimalistic when designing his house but his bed??

it’s like a plushie fortress, when you visit you could literally drown in them

“I like sleep, and I like you. It’s the best of both worlds, want to join me?”

zayne is the type of person to ACTUALLY rub his temples, like what person actually does that? zayne of course.

he also subconsciously clicks pens a lot, not loud and at a high frequency - but if you pay attention to his hands you’ll notice he gently clicks and then un-clicks the pen when in deep thought

he definitely does this more when he’s stressed, the feeling of the pen popping out against his thumb is therapeutic

zayne keeps around fake plants and a watering can because he somehow found a sick sense of amusement watching you water them every time you came to his office.

“Why am I smiling? No reason.”

he genuinely rubs his hands together and it makes sylus look like a fly, he just looks so sinister and mischievous when he does it

if you ask him why he rubs his hands together he just shrugs his shoulders

“Just habit, sweetheart.”

really it’s because he has sweaty palms LMAOO and he’s an old man, of course he’s gonna do old man things

i feel like sylus likes to chew on things, imagine one time you catch him clenching his jaw and decide to give him some gum

it’s not like he doesn’t know what gum is he just never really though about buying some

after that you find stacks of gum in his draws and he’s always chewing a piece, the only thing he dislikes is discarding gum.

AN; silly silly men doing silly silly things, i didn’t think too much about these just slurred random ideas and wrote them down LMAO

[7s3ven]

ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER. neteyam x fem! metkayina! r

IN WHICH… Y/N and Neteyam’s walls suddenly come crashing down one night after a heart to heart conversation.

( requested )

Notes: mentions of sex (not written out, though), throwing up (morning/pregnancy sickness), small panic attack, a little angst, fluff ending

—

Neteyam was thankful for the Metkayina allowing his family into their home but he missed his own. He missed the trees and the forest and his friends. The forest was all he had known. He was supposed to be the next clan leader, it was a job he had been preparing for since his birth. But it was all ripped away from him when he and his family were forced to leave. Now, he had nothing. No status, no promises of greatness, and almost no friends. Lo’ak didn’t count because he had to see his idiotic brother every day.

The night was quiet and cool as Neteyam slowly stepped over Lo’ak, who was sound asleep on the floor of the hut. Neteyam rolled his eyes at his brother, who was always sleeping in odd places.

He had been sneaking out regularly, trying to get away from his crushing responsibilities. Neteyam always sat in the same spot on the beach yet when he arrived, he found it was already taken. He recognised the Metkayina as Y/N, Tsireya and Aonung’s older sister and the future Tsahik. Kiri was better friends with her than Neteyam was. Nevertheless, he slowly walked up behind her.

“Out here all alone?” He questioned, crouching down. Their shoulders brushed as Y/N turned her head to glance at him. Her narrowed eyes softened at the sight of him.

“Oh, it is only you.” She murmured.

“Sorry. Did I startle you?”

Neteyam heard Y/N quietly laugh. “A little. What are you doing out so late?” She tilted her head, looking up at Neteyam. He sat down, shrugging.

“No reason.” He replied, “I just needed some peace and quiet.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I am doing the same. As mean as it might sound, I had to get away from my family for a little bit. Aonung’s snores are always so loud too.”

A small smirk crept across Neteyam’s lips. “You should hear Lo’ak. Sometimes, he’s snores so loud that it wakes my dad up.”

“How is your family settling in, Neteyam?” Y/N inquired, leaning back to stare up at the starry sky. Neteyam held back a sigh.

“We are trying our best.” He uttered, “But it is not easy. We are used to trees… not sand and water.”

Y/N hummed. “Do you miss the forest?” She mentally scolded herself for asking such a question. Of course he did. He would not be talking about it if he did not.

“Yes. And as much as I try to enjoy all this, I will always prefer the forest.” Neteyam abruptly shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts. “But I cannot complain. We are lucky to be here.”

Y/N looked Neteyam up and down, observing his body language. Slowly, she reached out a hand, placing it on Neteyam’s. “You can complain to me.” She gently told him. “I will not judge. I will only listen.”

It seemed Neteyam had been waiting for this exact words. He launched into describing his home with a smile on his face. He told Y/N of the banshees, the mountains, and the trees that stretched across the land for endless miles. It all sounded very foreign yet fascinating to Y/N.

“My parents would not want me to complain. Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk are allowed to miss the forest but not me.” Neteyam fidgeting with his fingers, a constant reminder that he would never be viewed as true Na’vi.

“Do they expect you to be perfect?” Y/N spoke up, her voice a soft whisper over the sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shore. Silently, Neteyam nodded.

“I am the golden child. I should not be saying such nonsense… but I miss my old life. Here, I get in trouble for every little thing Lo’ak does. I know as the oldest sibling, it is my job to look out for them, but it is growing tiresome.” Neteyam looked at Y/N, who was listening intensively, “Do you ever feel that way… about your siblings?”

“Yes. Aonung is always getting into mischief and I am given the job of picking up his slack. I am the future Tsahik yet with all the scolding I receive from my parents because of Aonung, it makes me feel like a failure.” Y/N aimlessly picked at the small shells nestled in the grains of sand as she spoke. “I love Tsireya and Aonung… but I cannot always be there to protect them. And that scares me.”

Neteyam nodded. He was closer now, barely an inch away from Y/N. She would have pushed him away if he was any other boy. But it was Neteyam, sweet Neteyam who was trying his best to gain his father’s approval and protect his family. She made no move to shove him.

“I feel that something terrible is approaching… and I am scared that I can no longer shield my siblings.” Y/N kept speaking as Neteyam drew soft circles in the palm of her hand to comfort her.

“I understand.” He muttered, locking gazes with Y/N. They held eye contact and for the first time in years, Y/N felt truly seen.

The feeling of finally being understood without judgement clouded Y/N’s mind as her back hit the soft sand and she returned Neteyam’s kiss.

The days after their sudden incident were a jumbled blur. Y/N had been feeling moody as of lately and it all made sense when she threw up the food she had eaten just minutes ago. Y/N shook as she wrapped her arms around herself in disbelief.

She was frozen in fear, barely able to register that Tsireya was calling out her name. “Y/N! I’ve been looking for you. Would you like to swim with Aonung and I and the Sully kids?” Tsireya brightly beamed, having no idea of the panic plaguing Y/N’s thoughts.

“I am alright, Tsireya. Thank you for offering. I do not feel good.” Y/N willed Tsireya to disappear so that she could figure out her situation.

“Oh… of course. I will tell Neteyam you cannot make it. I hope you feel better soon, sister.”

The mention of Neteyam’s name almost made Y/N spin around and throw up again. It was partly his fault she had gotten into this mess. Why did he have to be so kind and understanding?

Y/N quietly groaned in frustration as Tsireya walked away. She lay on her back, staring up at the brightly lit sky. Her thoughts weren’t giving her a break to think clearly. Obviously, she could not confide in her parents. She would not be surprised if they threatened to throw her out. Tsireya could not keep a secret for long and Aonung… well, Y/N would never willingly tell him. He would use every chance he got to remind her.

And Y/N dreaded telling Neteyam. He was already having a hard time fitting in, he did not need the trouble of this either. If word of this spread, his family would be outcasted even more than they were already.

She aimlessly wandered the beach, thinking to herself. The pressure of gaining her parents’ approval was becoming all too much.

As expected, Neteyam and Y/N avoided each other. Neteyam thought it was best to leave her alone and give her space to think, which was something he desperately needed as well.

Y/N was feeding her ilu when Tsireya and Aonung approached her. “Sister.” The latter uttered, folding his arms over his chest, “We need to talk.”

Y/N merely sent him a confused glance. “About what?” She questioned.

“Why are you avoiding us?” Tsireya got straight to the point. She huffed. “You never want to swim with us… and you are hardly around. You do not even eat with us. Why?”

Y/N looked away, petting her ilu. “I am busy.” She lied through her teeth. “Mother is encouraging me to oversee the affairs of the village and it is more tiresome than I expected.”

Tsireya faltered, suddenly feeling bad for accusing her older sister. Aonung, on the other hand, was not so easily fooled. He had always been annoyingly good at reading people. But neither of Y/N’s siblings asked any more questions. They simply accepted her answer and left her to tend to her ilu.

A few quiet minutes passed before the wood beneath Y/N creaked. She looked over her shoulder, almost jumping at the sight of Neteyam.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “Just came to check up on my ilu. She’s been more hungry lately.” He sent her a sheepish smile, hurrying over to the creature. Y/N tried not to pay him any attention as she kicked her legs in the water, the cool droplets splashing against her body.

“So… how are you?” Neteyam spoke up. There was an awkward pause. It took Y/N a moment to register his words.

“I am good.” She responded. Neteyam took her short answer as an attempt to ice him out, which he did not blame her for. In reality, though, Y/N was trying to stop herself from exposing her secret. She knew if she kept talking to Neteyam, then his sweet voice would coerce her into revealing everything.

“Right… I’ll see you later, I guess.” Neteyam walked off, rubbing the back of his neck. Y/N tried not to show her hurt at how quickly he left, seeming like he wanted nothing to do with her.

Her ilu nudged its head against Y/N’s thigh, cooing. Y/N sighed as she pet it once more. “What am I going to do?” She murmured. Time was running out and she still had no idea what she was going to do.

She clasped her hands over her belly, sighing as she lowered her head. She rarely ate with her family now, doing everything she could to avoid them. Her siblings and even her parents were bound to become more suspicious; Tsireya was already questioning it and Aonung did not believe any of her lies.

Y/N was a strong girl, both physically and mentally, but she could not handle this. Having to keep such a large secret from her parents and her siblings, whom were her world, and Neteyam was eating at her.

Her attempts to distance the eldest Sully boy from her were becoming harder but the secret could not be revealed. She knew Neteyam would ultimately talk. It was up to her to ensure his family would not be isolated any further.

Y/N’s heartbeat spiked and despite her underwater training, she could not slow it. She placed a hand over her chest, gasping for air. “Shit.” She murmured out a word she had heard Neteyam say, which only sent her further into a spiral.

It was becoming increasingly harder to clear her mind and she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her own skin. Her thoughts exploded into a flurry of negativity.

Her father would be so disappointed in her careless behaviour. And her mother… Y/N almost threw up at the mere thought of Ronal’s look. She would be livid that her perfect daughter, her daughter who consistently kept Aonung out of trouble, her daughter who was the future Tsahik, had engaged in such acts with a forest boy.

She clawed at her skin, trying to rid herself of such thoughts that caused more harm than good. Y/N leaned forward to comfort herself but she ended up diving right into the water purely by mistake. She thought of just staying under the glistening water. It brought her comfort. There was no one talking to her while she was on the verge of a breakdown. It was peaceful.

A hand suddenly grabbed onto her forearm, heaving her up. Y/N spat out a mouthful of water, coughing in surprise. “Aonung!” She exclaimed, slapping her brother’s shoulder. Though, it probably did not hurt him as much as she wanted it to. Aonung was a few months younger than Y/N but had much more muscles.

“Why are you lying in the water?” Aonung questioned as he pulled her back onto the dock. “It is not like you to be so distant. What is the matter?”

To others, particularly the Sully boys, Aonung was mean and a bully and an outright nuisance to be around. But to Y/N, he was sweet. He was Y/N’s sweet little brother who used to come crying to her when he scraped his knee.

“It is none of your concern. I am fine. I am simply stressed.” Y/N reassured him. Unfortunately, her soft words did not have the impact they had on Tsireya.

Aonung narrowed his eyes like he always did when he could tell Y/N was lying. “You are not telling the truth. You can tell me. I will not tell mother or father or even Tsireya. It will be our little secret.”

Y/N stared at her brother then at her shaking hands which had not stopped trembling since she found out she was pregnant. “I am with a child.” She suddenly blurted out.”

Aonung was silent. He opened his mouth to say something but the pair heard a gasp behind them. Y/N quickly looked behind her, partly relieved that it was only Tsireya. She had been holding a bowl of fruits, which were now rolling around in the floor.

“I am sorry.” She immediately apologised, covering her mouth with her hands. “I did not mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to bring you some fruit so you would feel better.” She quickly crouched down to pick everything up. “Is it true… are you really?”

Tsireya sat on the other side of Y/N. Aonung swiftly reached over, grasping a piece of fruit despite Y/N’s look. She had always told him not to eat anything from the floor.

“Yes.” She hesitated.

“Damn, who knocked you up?” Aonung carelessly asked. Tsireya clicked his tongue, her long tail slapping him.

“Do not, Aonung.” She warned. “We will not tell anyone, Y/N. Do not pressure yourself into telling us the dad. We will let you take your time.”

“It’s Neteyam.” Y/N blurted out. She could not contain it anymore. Beside her, she heard Aonung choke. Y/N promptly slapped his back.

“Neteyam?!” Aonung exclaimed but Tsireya and Y/N both hushed him. “Mother and Father will not be happy.”

Y/N sent him a glare, “I am aware.” She muttered.

“Wait, this is good. This will top anything else I do. Father will be like, ‘Aonung, why did you slap Lo’ak?’ And then I’ll just reply with ‘well, remember when Y/N got pregnant?’” Aonung faced his sisters only to be met with their unimpressed faces.

“Aonung, take this seriously.” Tsireya hissed, resting her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Whatever you do, Y/N, we will be here to support you.”

Neteyam was not doing any better. The last few days had felt like a constant test on his patience. His father was always ordering him around and Lo’ak was getting on his nerve.

The last straw was when Jake had decided to scold Neteyam for Lo’ak’s actions. Neteyam had returned from the docks, still wondering as to why Y/N was suddenly acting so cold. He tried to forget that night, to move past it, but it was easier said than done. Y/N seemed to be everywhere Neteyam was.

The oldest Sully boy walked into their hut, exhausted and fully prepared to collapse. However, when he saw Jake standing in front of Lo’ak, his father’s arms crossed sternly over his chest, Neteyam almost groaned. Neytiri and Kiri were inside as well, exchanging worried glances. Tuk was nowhere to be seen, most likely playing with her newfound friends.

“Neteyam.” Jake said. Neteyam dragged himself to stand beside Lo’ak, his back straightening.

“Yes, sir?” Neteyam murmured, wanting to get this over and done with so he could tend to his own thoughts.

“Your brother got into another fight today.” Jake uttered. “Where were you? You’re supposed to keep an eye on him.”

“I was busy, sir.”

“Why weren’t you with your brother? Sully’s have to stick together.“

Neteyam, who had been trying to hold down his bubbling anger, suddenly snapped. “I wasn’t with my brother because it’s not my job to keep him in check.” It was the first time Neteyam had ever talked back. His ears flattened down, an action he didn’t usually do but had started doing because of Y/N. “What Lo’ak does with his spare time should be none of my concern. It is not my fault he fights every day.”

“Yeah, but you’re the older brother. It’s your responsibility to look out for him.” Jake poked Neteyam’s chest, causing everything to come crashing down. Neteyam, who had been trying so hard to hide his fury at how unfairly he was being treated, broke.

“It is none of my responsibility! I can’t be everywhere with Lo’ak, babysitting him! You forced me away from my home, from the forest in which I grow up in. I know nothing here! I am simply too busy trying to fit in to watch over Lo’ak! He is not the only one who needs comfort. I am still a teenager! Have you ever asked how I feel?!” Neteyam didn’t waste a heartbeat in spinning around, storming off. His swishing tail hit a bowl, causing it to fall. It did not break but Neteyam wouldn’t have cared anyway.

Neteyam left his parents and his siblings in shock at his outburst. He always took the blame for Lo’ak, what had changed?

Kiri quickly followed after Neteyam. Lo’ak, with a small nod from Jake, followed.

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri reached out for her mate, “What is wrong with Neteyam? He has been acting strange lately.” Jake held her hand, staring at the spot where Neteyam had been standing moments ago.

Jake wasn’t stupid. He saw how Neteyam’s gaze always found its way to stare at the Chief’s oldest daughter. He had been 16 once upon a time; it did not take long for Jake to form a suspicion.

“Neteyam!” Kiri grabbed her brother’s wrist, forcing him to turn around. “What is the matter with you? You have been acting so moody lately.” She pouted.

“Nothing!” Neteyam harshly insisted. “I am not acting moody.” Lo’ak caught up with his older brother but remained silent, knowing Neteyam’s anger was a result of his recklessness.

“My idiot brother, why must you be so stubborn?” Kiri groaned, “You are like Y/N sometimes, so hardheaded and annoyingly independent.”

Her name set Neteyam’s face alight. A dark blush spread across his cheeks. “She is the problem.” He finally admitted. “Y/N is.”

“Did she reject you or something?” Lo’ak voiced, arching an eyebrow.

Neteyam wished she did. This situation would have been much easier. “No… Y/N and I, we…” Neteyam trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

Kiri got the hint. She slapped his shoulder. “You did not!” She hissed. “She is the Chief’s daughter!” Lo’ak stood beside Kiri, ever so clueless.

“What? What did they do? He didn’t even finish his sentence. You guys are acting like they”- Lo’ak paused, “Oh. I get it now.”

“It was an impulsive decision.” Neteyam uttered as he resumed walking.

“One that will get you killed.” Kiri added. “You are lucky she is not betrothed yet. Have you talked to her?”

“Briefly. She does not wish to speak to me.” Neteyam was met with another slap from Kiri.

“Idiot! She must be lonely. You must speak to her so that you can resolve this!”

Neteyam groaned, walking faster in hopes his siblings would leave him alone. “She avoids me.” He said to Kiri. “I told you, she doesn’t want to see me.”

“Then try harder to talk to her! Y/N is as stubborn as you. Do you not see the pattern?!” Kiri yanked Neteyam back, “You must tell Father and Mother.”

Neteyam scoffed. “I have caused enough trouble already. I will do no such thing.”

“You are foolish. If Tonowari and Ronal find out, Father will be able to calm them. If you do not tell, then at least speak to Y/N.”

Neteyam exasperatedly sighed. “Fine. I will talk to her. Happy?” He wandered off, leaving Kiri and Lo’ak behind. He knew where to find Y/N. During her spare time, she was always at the docks, playing with her ilu or swimming.

“Do you not ever move from this spot?” Neteyam spoke as he halted behind Y/N, who was sitting where he suspected. He saw her back tense up.

“No. I have moved. To eat. I came back.” Y/N was careful with her responses. One stumble and she’d end up spilling everything.

“Kiri says I should talk to you.” Neteyam muttered as he sat beside her, dipping his feet into the water. Y/N turned to face him, staring with wide eyes.

“You told Kiri?”

“And Lo’ak.” Neteyam’s reply did not ease her panic. “But I suspect you told Tsireya and Aonung.”

Y/N nodded. “I cannot hide anything from them for long.” In truth, Y/N had returned to the docks to mentally prepare herself for telling her mother. She could hide the sudden pregnancy but her body could not. It would start to show.

“How are you feeling?” Neteyam questioned.

“Stupid.”

Neteyam lowly chuckled, staring down at his hands. “Kiri is advising me to tell Mother and Father. But I do not want to do it without your permission.” Y/N almost melted at how sweet and considerate Neteyam was.

“I do not mind.” She muttered, “As long as they do not spread the word.” It was not Neteyam who would get the harsher punishment anyway. As the daughter of the clan leaders, Y/N had a standard to uphold. She had failed after managing to balance it for so long.

After a much needed talk, Neteyam and Y/N parted ways. The latter slowly walked into the medical hut where she found her mother grinding leaves. “Mother.” Y/N said, hands clasped in front of her. Ronal hummed, too busy with her task at hand. “I have something rather important to tell you.”

“What is it, child? Could it not wait until after dinner?”

“I am pregnant.” Y/N quickly said, half heartedly hoping she had spoken too fast for her mother to understand her. Ronal paused. The leaves she had been holding previously fluttered the floor.

“You are pregnant… by who?” Ronal was trying to keep calm.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her head lowered. “Neteyam.” She whispered.

Ronal hissed in anger. “You allowed this?! When he is not your mate?!”

“I did not mean to, mother.” Y/N insisted, stepping forward.

Ronal thought for a second. “We must find you a mate.” She announced after what felt like an hour.

“But what about Neteyam?” Y/N frowned, “He is the father! Does he not deserve to know?”

“He is not Metkayina.” Ronal almost sneered, “If word of this gets out, it will create a scandal. Your father and I will find you a suitable mate.” Her mother turned to walk away but Y/N desperately grabbed onto her arm.

“No… please… mother, do not make me do this! I want him to be the father! I do not want any other idiotic boy!”

Ronal softly caressed Y/N’s face as small tears dripped down her cheeks. She finally allowed herself to cry after holding everything in. “I am sorry, my child, but it is for the best.”

Y/N abruptly straightened her back. “No.” She firmly refused, surprising Ronal. “I have been the perfect daughter for you and Father. Do I not receive a reward in return?”

“You have a baby without a mate. I could hardly call that a reward.”

“Why will you not allow me to decide? You say it is for the best but do you really want to live the rest of your life knowing I am miserable? Will you put me through that just to keep your reputation? Is your reputation among the clan more important than your own daughter’s happiness?!” Y/N had not inherited Tsireya’s gentleness nor Aonung’s ego. She had inherited her mother’s temper.

“Listen to me, child, they will leave sooner or later. They will not stay here, no matter how much Neteyam will claim he loves you.”

“Then I will pay the price. Let me do this, mother. I have already suffered enough. I cannot do it again.”

Ronal narrowed her eyes. “Come.” She beckoned her daughter out of the hut. Y/N did not ask where Ronal was leading her; she simply followed behind.

Ronal’s sudden appearance in the Sully Family’s hut caused them to quiet down. Neteyam shared a look with Y/N, confused.

“It seems my daughter has found herself… involved with your eldest son.” Ronal spoke, sending Y/N a subtle glare. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek. “This is not the Metkayina way but unfortunately, she is pregnant.”

Chaos broke out. Jake spat out a mouthful of water while Neytiri coughed to hide the fact that she had almost choked in shock. Lo’ak muffled his loud laughs as a look of horror crossed Neteyam’s face. Kiri quietly clicked her tongue, staring at her eldest brother.

“For some unknown reason, my daughter wishes for Neteyam to be the father. I will allow this if your son proves to me that he will be able to provide for Y/N. She is the future Tsahik and I will allow only the best for her. That is all.” Ronal walked away, expecting Y/N to follow.

“You knocked up the Chief’s daughter?” Jake said as soon as the two Metkayina women were gone. Lo’ak could finally freely laugh while Neteyam shoved him.

“Shut up.” He muttered, standing to run after Y/N.

[finalgirllx]

thunderstorms

took some heavy liberties with week 3 of @thatdammchickennugget and i's jinxed july challenge to write the forced proximity mattheo riddle fic of my dreams. i hope you enjoy it just as much as i do. and also big thanks to @pizzaapeteer for proofing, i love you! 2.5k words | fluff? i think | f!reader implied

Snap. Another twig breaks underneath the tattered soles of your shoes while you continue the trek along the less-traveled grove. The air is thick with the scent of wildflowers and earth, and sunlight filters down on you through the leafy branches, casting shadows on the greenery that litters the forest floor. It is pristine, seemingly unaffected by too much human activity. 

That is until Mattheo and you embarked on an increasingly futile mission imposed by your one common interest - your mutual friend Enzo. He had eagerly insisted that it be the two of you that forage for an ingredient native to the area, claiming that adding it to a drink mix can get you wasted quicker than any brew sold in shops.

The pair of you had done well not to stumble too far from Enzo's parents' summer home. A generous invitation had been offered to your friend's group - a chance to relax and kick back there over the long weekend. A relatively secluded area, it is sparsely populated by second homes of the upper class or rickety cabins so old that not even magic can prevent them from slowly succumbing to the elements. Everyone tries to enjoy the spoils of the location's offerings, as it is a sweet spot to spend the few warmer months in Britain.

"Y'know, I am not an outdoorsy guy," Mattheo complains after another branch scrapes his forearm. "This is the dumbest mission Enzo could have sent us on."

"At least we can agree on one thing," you mutter exasperatedly. "I should have known you'd have no sense of your lefts and rights."

Two steps ahead of you, Mattheo pauses and looks back, his expression suggesting, 'You want to go there?' His brows raise, and his chocolate curls still fall perfectly over his forehead despite endless collisions with twigs and branches. Honestly, you were unsure if his looks or personality irked you more. You glare back so he knows exactly how you feel about the situation.

"Right, take no accountability for being one-half of why we are still out here," Mattheo responded in kind, then turning back to continue leading the way.

"You are rid-"

"Ridiculously handsome? I know. Come up with some new material, sweetheart," Mattheo interrupts with his unending cocky attitude. Preparing to unleash more insults, you are startled by the feeling of a cold drop on your head. Then another. And another.

A loud clap echoes above, booming in the sky, followed shortly by the rapid motion of overcast clouds moving in, blocking out any remaining sunlight. A second roar of thunder bursts, sending out another warning that a storm is fast approaching. The sudden singular drop quickly builds into a consistent shower, and the panic sets in over the both of you. Mattheo takes charge, gesturing for you to follow him and for once, you decide to take his lead without talking back, which might have been a mistake as you continue deeper into the forest and further away from the house.

Minutes felt like hours under the increasingly ceaseless downpour as you and Mattheo scrambled through the grove. Finally spotting an old cabin structure, you make a break for it and dash underneath the awning for some reprieve. Mattheo vigorously jiggles the knob of the dilapidated door, seeming to forget his wizarding abilities. Propelled by a clash of thunder, you watched Mattheo resort to brute force, managing to barrel through the door and get you two inside. 

Solely focused on escaping the pouring sky, you follow him in while heaving from the chaos.

"Nice going, genius," you admonished Mattheo while catching your breath. "Forget a first-year unlocking charm?"

"Ungrateful as ever," Mattheo responds gruffly, his amusement overshadowed by temporary exhaustion as he steps over and shuts the door that is barely held up on its hinges. "See? I got you out of the rain, and the door still works." 

The two of you take some time to shake yourselves off in a meager effort to eliminate that soaked feeling. Squeezing out your top,  you silently curse at the unpleasantness of your damp hair that now clings to your face. You looked over and watched Mattheo shaking his head, his hair splattering leftover water all over the vicinity.

"You're like a wet dog," you feign disgust, unable to resist a chance to tease.

"What else am I expected to do?" Mattheo countered, brushing his hands through his hair and hoping for the best.

"Be more tasteful with it," you suggested, suppressing a snort afterward at your own poor choice of words.

"Tasteful? You seriously went with tasteful?" Mattheo caught on, his disgruntled look from the uncomfortable wet transforming into a grin. "Bloody hell, sweetheart, I know you love my perfect curls, but that really is the least of my concerns." 

You coped by turning away to continue drying yourself off, hoping he did not see your disconcerted expression.

Once Mattheo reached a state of dampness he could live with, he stepped toward the intact windows to watch the storm outside. It was miraculous that a cabin as worse for wear as this one held its own against the onslaught.

"Well, we might be stuck here for some time. I suggest you get comfortable," Mattheo announced with a resigned sigh, glancing back to the room for potential spots to sit or, more accurately, the lack thereof. "The floor. The floor will do."

He follows through, eyeing spaces on the rickety floorboards to settle down. You roll your eyes at the idea, though the increasing weight of your legs after all that running starts to wear on you and beckon you down. So you give in, finding your own spot to settle, a perfectly reasonable distance from him. His eyes bore into you with an unreadable expression, a bit too analytical for your comfort. You are not too fond of him watching your every move. Not at all.

"Could you look elsewhere? I am not your prey to stalk," you finally snap. 

"What? This is just how I look at things. You cannot blame me; it is either you or the rotting walls," Mattheo retorts, emphasizing his point with a gesture of his hands.

"Your eyes are… they look too hard!" you complain amidst a struggle to find the right way to explain why his gaze ruffled you so much.

"Too hard? She thinks I look too hard, whatever the hell that means. Salazar, help us, a true wordsmith in the midst," Mattheo complained to himself, ensuring his frustration was loud enough to invite further squabbling.

"I am just saying! Look elsewhere!" you insisted.

"I can't help it. You are more interesting-looking," Mattheo justified through gritted teeth, his increasing annoyance evident.

"Interesting-looking? And you accuse me of being unable to talk today. Is that meant to be a compliment?"

"Tell me you would not have my head if I called you pretty, so interesting it is!" Mattheo growled in a harsh but earnest tone. He shook his head, jaw clenched to the point of discomfort over what he admitted. Just to add to the pettiness, he scooted to face even further away from your direction.

This development undoubtedly took you by surprise, silencing you momentarily in your conversation. You always had a comeback for Mattheo, but this was the first time you had absolutely no clue how to retaliate.

"Pretty?" you repeated, pushing aside your dignity to clarify you had heard correctly.

"Yes, pretty," Mattheo confirmed, his voice huskier than the bellowing moments prior. "Is that such a shock to you?"

It honestly did feel like a shock. In all the time you had known each other, the words you exchanged were cheeky at best and plain disrespectful at worst. A more tender way of describing you was not something you expected to come from Mattheo at all.

"It is. I thought I was just your favorite punching bag," you admitted. 

"Oh, please. Do you honestly believe I would answer you at all if I really could not stand you? Perhaps you are more dimwitted than I initially presumed."

"I just thought—"

"And given that I have seen you quite literally punch some poor bloke who truly bothered you, I assumed you fell into a similar train of thought, no?"

Hell, you hated it when he was right. Something about Mattheo kept you coming back for more in a way that couldn't simply be attributed to the proximity of your friend group. The feelings creeping up inside you now had less to do with being stuck in a cabin with him through a storm and more with how this predicament forced you to come to terms with how you truly felt. You visibly shifted where you sat as feelings you had no clue how to handle washed over you more intensely than the rain still pouring outside.

Mattheo rose again without warning and stalked around the cabin, this time on a mission.

"What are you doing?"

"A blanket, a towel. Something to warm you up," he replied, his attention fixed on his newfound goal, which was an insatiable need to help and protect you in your wetted state. 

"You do not have to! It will probably be full of mildew should you even find one," you protested through your sheer surprise at his kind gesture.

Initially written off as too damp to use, the fireplace centered on the cabin's back wall was suddenly vital to Mattheo's mission. Finally remembering that he was a wizard, Mattheo reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wand, and crouched in front of the fireplace.

"Incendio…" he spoke the incantation, causing a flame to spout from his wand toward the firewood on top of the grate, hoping they were not too far gone from the elements.

To your shared relief, a small fire came to life before your eyes, its glow brightening your dampened spirits which was soon followed by an embrace of its much-needed heat. 

"Yes!" Mattheo hissed excitedly, hurriedly gesturing you to come closer, and you did. The previous distance you had created no longer mattered, as you were now shoulder-to-shoulder with him for a chance to enjoy the warmth provided by the lit fireplace.

With the both of you too focused on warming up by the crackling flames and learning to ignore the blaring storm outside, peaceful silence hung in the air. A mutual respect arose between you as you ruminated over the afternoon's events.

You glanced at Mattheo, whose shoulder you were now definitely pressed against, and seized the opportunity to check him out shamelessly. He was right; that penetrative gaze remained even in his resting state. The light from the fire highlighted the warmth in his eyes that usually matched the dark of night, and his brown locks that had dried into bouncy coils perfectly suited his chiseled structure. The last remaining baby fat on his cheeks softened his enigmatic look, especially in more calm instances such as this. Few were treated to such a view of him, let alone have the capacity to appreciate it like you did. Wait - appreciating him? He seems to catch on simultaneously, the corners of his lips twitching in satisfaction over your turn to gaze.

"I am not your prey to stalk," he abruptly spoke up in a high-pitched, mocking tone to mimic your previous dramatics. You pushed your shoulder against him further as a hollow threat to get him to quit his teasing.

"You look too hardddd."

"Stopppp," you plead, pressing against him again, which causes him to turn to you finally. That stupid, intense gaze again was now much too close for comfort.

Mattheo scoops your hands into his larger, calloused ones, suddenly enclosing yours. He begins rubbing them, his touch creating a friction that warms your fingers, and despite your confusion, you don't immediately pull away.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to warm you up."

"It is still summer. They are not that cold, really…"

"Let me just have this excuse to hold your hands," Mattheo says hushedly, shutting down all of your protests. His touch is comforting, so you allow it.

"Forward this evening, are we?" you still can not resist asking with a raised brow.

"Maybe. But when else will we be trapped for a night like this?" Mattheo was right again, blasted. The bubbling chemistry was now utterly unavoidable, and this night was simply the catalyst for this new beginning.

Still, it was so recent that you likely would not change your behavior towards each other once you returned to your friends, who were probably worried sick about your whereabouts. The storm was still raging, so you just accepted that it would be easier to call it a night instead of waiting for it to pass or even worse; risking your safety by trudging through it. You silently agreed with Mattheo to let this evening run its natural course, showing your reciprocated feelings by allowing him to continue creating friction with your hands via a similar technique used to make a fire.

The rest of the evening went by uneventfully as you cozied up to each other, finding yourself leaning more into him as your lids grew heavier with tiredness.

Mattheo took on the role of a pillow, pressing his back to the floor and letting you lay against him, going as far as draping your leg over his and resting your head on his chest. The resistant part of you wanted to claim this was merely to survive the night, but Merlin, he was easy to sink into. No longer fighting the call of rest, your last conscious moment was the feeling of Mattheo pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before sleep took over.

—-------------

The chirping of birds and light rays seeping into the small windows of the cabin signaled it was time to wake up. You two had stayed wrapped up in each other for the night, which was probably the sole reason you felt at all rested.

The warm embrace of Mattheo kept you tucked cozily into his arms, providing a warmth that was now overwhelmingly hot in the morning summer heat. Suddenly, the chatter of approaching voices traveled around the hollowness of the cabin before the distinctive voice of Enzo called out. "It only took a dangerous thunderstorm to bring you two together," he remarked, a wicked grin matching his chirpy tone. You looked up to meet his gaze through the cracked window, which illuminated your intimate position with Mattheo. The cheeky disturbance startled Mattheo awake with a jump, groaning at the loud intrusion of his mates' voices.

You observed through squinted eyes as Mattheo and Enzo began quarreling. Amidst the light-hearted chaos, you heard snippets like 'It's not what it looks like!' and 'The ingredients search was a load of bollocks, wasn't it?' The goal to save face came second to your relief at rejoining your friends.

A ruse that had gotten way out of hand landed you in the last place you would have expected this morning, but the possibilities it offered left you nervous but hopeful. You watched a bit longer before stretching and getting up to join, armed with your own silly defenses over why you were caught in Mattheo's arms as the lot of you made your way back to the summer home.