#oh but I still need to go to the library to return some books..

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Spellbook Swap

I've always wondered how couples stay together so long. My husband, Derek, and I had been married for 3 years now and while we get along great and support each other through everything, the sex had been pretty stale for awhile. Half the time he's not really in the mood and when he is, we usually just jerk off next to each other. I was getting tired of it and craved something more. But Derek was still so cute, him being a socially awkward nerd, and I was scared to tell him how I feel because he might cry.

That afternoon, I was on my way to pick him up from work. We only had one car, but since both our jobs typically had the same shift, I always headed over to pick him up at his job at the library. I didn't actually have work today so I went a little earlier to look at some books. When I arrived, Derek noticed me and smiled real big.

“Hey! You're early!”

“Yeah, thought I'd browse a bit.”

“Ah ok. I just organized it all so you get to see my work!” He smiled again and continued helping customers in line.

I browsed through my favorite genre - fantasy. I always loved ones that involved magic, spells, and amazing worlds. I noticed one book that kinda stuck out a bit amongst the shelf. It was some kind of spellbook with a brown leather cover, and had a bit of dust on it, which seemed strange because the rest of the shelf was perfectly clean. I opened it up and found that it was indeed a spellbook. I wasn't the most superstitious person ever, but I did believe there was some kind of magical force out there that could do incredible things.

I flipped through the table of contents and noticed there was a category called “relationships”. I turned the pages to the section and saw a bunch of spells - ones to make someone fall in love with you, ones to get promoted at work, ones to impress your family, things like that. I was about to close the book when I found one page - how to spice up your sex life. That was just what I needed! Even if it didn't work, it couldn't hurt to try.

I walked over to the counter right as another guy started talking to Derek. He was a real muscular guy wearing a white shirt and tan hat. His pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination with the way they were tight fitting around his ass. A mustache covered his thick face, which complemented his bright green eyes. He was carrying a tote bag.

“Hey can I help you?” He greeted the man with an eager attitude. “Need a book recommendation or anything?”

“Oh no I don't read.” The man spoke with a deep manly voice. “I mean, who has time to when you could be working out?” I could see the rare irritated look on Derek's face.

“Then…what do you need from the library?” He replied, much less eager than before.

“Just dropping off some books for the wife. We're going on vacation and they’re due tomorrow.” He took a couple books out of the tote bag.

“Allright. I can take them.” The man handed him the books and immediately turned around and left. Derek's smile returned when he saw me with a book in my hand.

“Hey! What'd you get?”

“It's a book of spells.”

“Of spells? Like real ones?”

“No way,” I laughed. “Just some dumb thing. Looks fun to read though.”

“Allright. Gotcha.” He checked me out and I sat down, waiting for him to finish the rest of the closing.

That evening after dinner I tried to seduce him but he wasn't having it once again.

“Sorry, work has me so exhausted you know?” I wish that I wanted to, but…well I just don't want to. Sorry.” I stood there defeated.

“Ok.” I let out an emotionless reply. As Derek brushed his teeth and got ready to head into bed, I flipped through the pages of the spellbook. I found the “spice up your sex life” spell and read the instructions. I needed to recite the incantation while looking at a picture of the two of us. I took out my phone, and scrolled through my gallery until I found the perfect picture. Then I started to recite the spell. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. At that point I was mad at him and now mad at the spellbook for wasting my time, so I headed into the bedroom. There I found Derek waiting for me.

“Hey…look I'm sorry. How about tomorrow morning we have some fun? I promise I'll go through with it!” Maybe the spell did work afterall! We both had a day off tomorrow so that was perfect. I was so excited that I could barely sleep.

The next morning I woke up to Derek nudging me awake. Excitedly, I turned over. But to my surprise, it wasn't him smiling at me, but a hairy guy with a mustache. He was giving me a sexy smile.

“Hey…you ready?” He gave me a look of uncertainty and cleared his throat. I didn't even know what to say but I was so confused that there was total stranger in my bed, so I had to say something.

“Who are…you?” He frowned beneath his mustache.

“What do you mean? Oh no, am I having an allergic reaction somehow? That would explain my voice and why my eyesight is blurry even with my glasses on. It's me though! My face must be so puffy…oh god."

”Holy fuck. It's Derek! But this was far beyond an allergic reaction. He's an entirely different person! He pushed the covers off and was about to get out of bed, probably to take a look at himself in the mirror, when he glanced down at his body. This was definitely not normal. He was muscular, tan, and hairy - a stark contrast to what he normally looked like. He made a terrified face, which was a strange sight on such a macho guy.

“What? What's happening? I-I…” He looked at me with worry in his eyes, and it was then that I realized WHY this was happening. It must've been the spell. I guess turning your boyfriend into a muscle hunk would definitely spice up our sex lives. But I couldn't leave him in the dark.

“I-I,” I started. “It was my fault. That spellbook I got, I used it on you. I didn't expect this though!”

It was then that I realized WHO he was. That guy we saw at the library yesterday. He somehow swapped bodies with him!

“What? What spell was it?”

“Spice up your sex life. I just…was getting bored. And you were never in the mood.”

“Oh…but it turned me into this?” He then rushed to the bathroom. I followed. He immediately recognized himself as soon as he looked into the mirror.

“Hey! I'm that guy from yesterday!? Why did it turn me into him?”

“I-I don't know! Maybe it picked someone from a recent memory?”

He gazed at himself in the mirror with an open mouth, and touched all around his face, pinching and feeling his mustache.He gazed down and admired his new muscles, feeling all around his pecs and the chest hair growing from them. He then turned around and stared at the mirror again, this time making a variety of expressions.

“What am I supposed to do? I can't stay like this!”

“I don't know! There must be something about a reverse spell in the book.” Flipping through the book, I once again found the page I needed. I read every word but didn't find anything about a reverse spell. Could he be stuck like this?

“Maybe if we see like a professional?”

“What, like a fortune teller witch lady or whatever?”

“Exactly.”

“Well. I do remember seeing something like that close to town. A psychic. Maybe they can help?”

“We could try.” I looked up fortune tellers and found Madam Cleo - Psychic. It was a short drive away. I was hoping we would find our answers there.

“I got it.”

“One problem,” Derek said doubtfully.

“What?” He stared down at himself and then answered.

“I don't think anything will fit me now…” I couldn't help but laugh out loud.“I think we can find something at least.”

We dug through the closet and eventually found the Lakers jersey that my uncle gifted me a few years back. I wasn't even into basketball and it was a few sizes too big, but at least it helped us in the end! Derek slipped it on and gazed at himself in the mirror. It fit pretty nicely.

“Not really my style…but it'll do for now.” He put his finger on his chin and then rubbed his head. He froze when he grazed the back of it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I'm…balding.” He turned around and tilted his head up to show me. He definitely had a bad case of male pattern baldness. I thought it was pretty hot, but he looked terrified.

“Hmm…well. That's something we can just fix with a hat. I walked into the bedroom, grabbed one of my hats, and put it on his head. It completed the look well.

“I guess this'll work. Maybe.” I laughed again.

“You'll be fine.”

We got to the car, Derek struggling a bit to fit in the passenger seat with his new frame, and headed over to the fortune teller. It was a warehouse-like building, although much smaller. As we were about to walk in, someone else walked out. He was a young looking guy around my age, but at least 200 lbs heavier. He looked like he made absolutely no effort to control his weight.

“Hey! That lady is awesome!” He said excitedly. “She told my fortune and said that I would lose weight very soon! I can't wait!” He then ran off, his gross looking belly jiggling up and down, and drove away.

I kinda felt bad for people like that, that actually believe that sort of thing…what am I saying? We're the ones going to a fortune teller for help. I just really hoped she was legit then.

We walked in and found that the interior was nicely decorated, completely different from the outside. Shiny wooden floors, a chandelier, and LED lights hanging from the walls. All of that surrounded a crystal ball in the center. Within a few seconds a woman dressed in a typical fortune teller outfit appeared from a curtain in the back.

“What does the future hold for you two today? Let's find out,” she said with an ominous tone to her voice.

“Actually we're not here to get our fortunes told. We need your help.”

“What do you mean? She asked, dropping the ominous tone.

“Well my husband here is a victim to a body swapping spell gone wrong.” I showed her the book, flipping to the page.

“Oh my,” she said with a concerned look on her face. “This is very powerful magic indeed.”

“But how do we reverse it?”

“I don't know for sure. But the victim should try to recite it instead.

“Victim? You mean Derek? How would that work?”

“Do not question why things are the way they are. Now go!” She said suddenly. With that, we hurried back home to recite the spell.

“Ok how do I do this now?” Derek asked.

“Just recite the spell, and focus on a picture of us.” He recited the incantation.

“Nothing happened…how was it last time?”

“Same as this time. I guess it took awhile to take effect. What should we do in the meantime?” He didn't reply, but instead stared at himself in the mirror.

“You know, now that this face actually has a brain behind it, it's actually kinda hot.” He then walked over to me and got real close. I'd never been intimidated by Derek before for obvious reasons, but this time I couldn't help but feel dominated by his brawny self.

“The spell picked this guy because you thought he was so hot didn't it? That's gotta be it.” He said with a low voice.

“Y-yeah. I admit it. He seemed dumb at the library but hey, he was a hunk.”

“And now I'm that hunk.” He started feeling all around his body again. He then glanced at his dick and began to stroke it. I knew exactly where this was going and I was all for it.

“Well then Mr. Muscle Hunk, why don't you show off that body a bit more?”

“I'd like nothing more…but I'm gonna go shower first. Who knows where this guy's been?”

“Yeah good idea. I'll be in the room.”

I was so excited! This was gonna be the hottest thing ever! I headed toward the closet to find something sexy to put on. Suddenly I felt a bit dizzy. I noticed my skin seemed to be glowing somehow. Within seconds it turned ghostly white, and then became so bright, it hurt to look at. Why was I glowing? It seemed to be just my body though, nothing was happening to my clothes. As quickly as it came, the glowing stopped and the dizziness returned. I didn't have time to see what happened, because as soon as the glow stopped I lost my balance and fell onto the nearby chair.

My clothes felt incredibly tight, but it wasn't long before I realized why. I was fat! My shirt didn't even fit over my large belly. My pants must've popped a button as my gut hung over them. I tried to get up but the weight of my gut kept pushing me backwards. How do fat guys even do this?

When I finally got up and onto my feet, I rushed to the mirror, my hanging belly flopping up and down. My face looked familiar…oh shit. I was that guy we saw at the fortune teller's! Did the spell do this? How did this happen?!

I heard the shower stop, meaning Derek was going to meet me here any minute now. I couldn't believe the hottest night of my life was about to be ruined! Why did this have to happen?

The door opened and there he was, standing there in a pair of briefs. They were always a little big on him, but with his new body, they were pretty tight. It looked like he shaved his head too. He stared at me, at first he looked shocked but then his expression changed. Was that a look of lust?

“So the spell did something to you too?”

“Yeah…look at me! I'm a mess!” I jiggled my flabby moobs to prove my point.

“Well…”

“Well?”

“It's not so bad.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean…well you know how you said I look hot like this? And that the spell probably made me like this for that reason?”

“Yeah. What are you getting at…wait.”

“Mhm.” He mumbled with a sexy smirk.

“Y-you think I'm hot like this?!" He got real close and started making out with me. It was the most intense make out session I'd ever had. The feeling of his thick mustache rubbing against my face was a sensation I would've never expected could feel so good.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Yep,” I said with a smirk.

[eternal-reverie]

I have so many posts to sift through my drafts. Like there’s some where it’s discussion posts where I wanna digest them and put my thoughts in the tags. art I wanna gush about but couldn’t find the words when I first saw it. so glad I don’t have work tomorrow; I could just sit at my desk and organize them.

[matchpointfaist]

it will come back - art donaldson

;; dark and obsessive art donaldson

cw; aggressive art, rough sexual content, drinking, manipulation, stalking??, obsessive behavior, gaslighting, kinda icky behavior??

you know better, babe, you know better, babe

than to smile at me, smile at me like that

you know better, babe, you know better, babe

than to hold me just, hold me just like that

things with art started off with a simple, well intentioned smile across the court. you were warming up, stretching your shoulders when you caught his eyes stuck on you, drinking in the tight tennis dress clinging to your skin. his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth, his gaze pin sharp and hair-raisingly intense. you had seen art before, at his matches or just around the court warming up. 

you weren’t nearly as well known, or competitive, as art. you weren’t even on the official team, you really only played as a hobby and as an excuse to get out of studying constantly. it seemed, to you, that his entire being revolved around tennis. if you saw him, it was typically on the court, or just leaving it. he always had his tennis bag slumped over his shoulder, his name ever-present like a brand. 

you brushed off his stare, trying your best to push it from your mind and continue your stretches. you were only able to relax when you saw him headed for the gate, following after his coach. your breathing calmed, and you turned to one of the other girls, gesturing to the net. “wanna hit with me? you asked her, “i only have half an hour.” she nodded, walking over to her side of the court. art’s stare was still at the forefront of your mind by the end of your 30 minutes. 

after you showered off the sweat from your practice, you headed to the library, hoping to cram in some last minute studying before your biology exam. you claimed your table, spreading out your books and walking to the vending machine in search of a red bull. 

when you returned, you were surprised, and unnerved, to see art donaldson himself seated at your table, your notebook open in front of him. “hey, uh, that’s my stuff,” you said awkwardly. his head snapped up, those blue eyes landing on you once again, “yeah, i know. sorry, shoulda asked first, i just needed the notes for bio.” his voice was confident and smooth, like he hadn’t at all been invading your privacy. “oh, didn’t know you had that class. well, i’d love to help out but i kinda need to study, so..” you trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint. “oh, no problem,” he smiled, standing up quickly, “see you around.”

you went back to your studying, but couldn’t shake the feeling of confusion finding art with your notes. you knew for a fact he was not in your class, which was only held once a week, when you knew he was more than likely practicing. you tried, and once again failed, to the push the thought from your mind. you told yourself there was no reason for him to lie, he could have just transferred into the class for an extra credit,  and went on with your reading. 

sure enough, as your bio professor handed out forms for the exam, art was nowhere to be found. you leaned to the boy on your right, your voice barely a whisper, “hey, is art donaldson in this class? i could’ve sworn he told me he was,” “nah, don’t think so. i’ve never seen him, anyway.” you nodded, going back to your own paper, mind a million miles away. 

after your exam, you went to the dining hall, hoping to enjoy a quick snack  between classes. you saw him  before he saw you, this time, and found yourself admiring the fluidity of his movement, the ease of his posture as he talked to one of the other boys you saw him with frequently. you felt crazy for ever thinking anything was off about him reading your notes. he probably took the class privately, considering his insane schedule. a few moments passed, with you continuing to watch him, and finally his eyes met yours, catching you. you smiled shyly, going back to your salad and scolding yourself for staring. 

you saw his bright white nikes from your peripheral vision, just at the edge of your table. “hey, i just wanted to say sorry for stealing your notes like that,” he said lightly, “i’m in molecular bio lab, i thought you were too. just got confused,” “oh, it’s okay! no big deal,” you replied, feeling silly for not thinking of that before. “alright, cool. hey, while i’m over here, you play, don’t you?” “what, tennis?” he nodded, taking a bite of his apple. 

your breath faltered slightly as you watched the juice drip down his chin, entranced as he licked it off his bottom lip. “uh, yeah, i do,” you stammered, “not super well, i just play for fun mostly. why?” “to be honest, i need a hitter that’s not gonna scream at me about precision,” he laughed, “love my coach, but he’s intense, and sometimes i just need to let off some steam.” “oh, i get that. i could ask around for you!” you smiled. “oh, i was wondering if you’d be interested? it’d be nice to hit with someone who’s not super competitive, and i’ve seen you play. you’re good,” he said, leaning slightly closer, “if you have time, i mean.” “oh, yeah, that would be fun! i’m really only free in the afternoons, my last class is out by six everyday,” you tried not to let your confusion show in your voice or on your face. “cool, works for me,” he said, “i could meet you at the west court tomorrow at six thirty? it’s a little more secluded so you won’t have to worry about people critiquing or anything.” “yeah, sounds good to me, i’ll be there,” you smiled. 

on your walk  back to your dorm, you ran over the conversation in your mind, examining every sentence for any deeper meaning. what would art donaldson possibly want to do with you? sure, you were fine at tennis, but you weren’t a pro by any means. you told yourself he was right, he needed someone less intense, less competitive. you were ideal for that, considering you weren’t in a position of power, or a threat, to him. 

your classes went by quickly the next day, and by six you were ready to be on the court, to see if art was genuine with his intentions. you changed into a tank top and shorts, grabbing your racket bag and jogging to the west court. you stopped yourself from entering when you laid your eyes on him. he was shirtless, back muscles flexing as he stretched his arms above his head. he bent down, touching his toes, and you watched as his toned legs flexed along with his back and arms. you could’ve stood there all night, dumb look on your face and blush across your cheeks, until your footing slipped and you stepped on a stray branch. he stilled, turning to look at you slowly, and it struck you how much he looked like a predator stalking their prey in that moment. “well don’t just stand there,” he called, a smug grin on his face. you blushed darker, embarrassed of being caught, and entered the gate. “sorry, i was just making sure it was you before i came in,” you explained, knowing he could probably see through your lie. “oh, no problem,” he reassured, “you all stretched?”  you nodded, though you hadn’t stretched, but too aware of how tight your outfit truly was to stretch in front of him, “did you just want me to hit it back? or did you want like a match?” “we can just hit for now, let you get comfortable,” he said. you nodded again, heading to your side of the net and grabbing a tube of balls. “ready?” he called over the net, racket already in his position. “ready!”

you weren’t ready for the sheer speed of art’s serve, of the way he grunted slightly when the ball left his racket, the way his muscles visibly rippled with the impact of the hit. you just barely managed to hit it back, having to jump slightly to reach the ball, and felt a sense of accomplishment watching it fly back over the net. he looked like an entirely different person than the boy you’d seen in the dining hall the day prior. before, he was all easy, fluid movement, smooth words and lazy grins. now, he was rigid, hard lines, his light eyes set with a determination you had never seen in yourself. you wondered if he forgot who he was playing, forgot that he wasn’t in the french open he had won the year before. 

art was always intense like this, it was the only time he could be himself. he could be as aggressive, as loud, as he needed to be. he could let go, not having to pretend to be polite and easygoing any longer. people asked him frequently, if he felt the pressure to perform, and he wanted to tell them he felt more pressure to perform in a basic conversation than he ever had while playing tennis. until he met you, that is. talking to you came as easily to art as swinging a racket, and that was when he knew you were both in trouble. 

i know who I am when i’m alone

i’m something else when i see you

you don't understand, you should never know  

how easy you are to need

your little practices with art continued for three weeks, with you meeting him at the west court every other day at six thirty pm. you slowly began to look forward to them, and by the fourth week, you were desperate to get out of your last class each day. so desperate, really, that you texted art at four oclock, asking him if he’d want to meet you earlier. you emailed your professor, telling him that you’d come down with a migraine and you’d have to make up any notes next week, and went up to your dorm to wait on art. thirty minutes went by, and you hadn’t heard from him, so you went to change into your tennis skirt and brush your hair up into a ponytail. a knock on your door interrupted you, and you hesitantly opened it, not expecting anyone. art stood in the hallway, racket bag over his shoulder and disheveled hair. 

“hey, sorry i came as soon as i saw your text. sorry, i fell asleep after my match,” he said, and you took in his full appearance. his eyes were still hazy, and he had slight creases on his cheek from his pillow. you couldn’t help but think what a beautiful sight it must be to wake up next to him. “oh, you didn’t have to do that, i just got out of my last class and didn’t have anything else to do,” you said, attempting to downplay your desperation. “well we can go down to the court now, here i’ll carry your bag,” he smiled, and you reluctantly passed him your pink racket bag. “let’s go then,” 

the walk to the court was oddly quiet, with art seeming to be in a bad mood and you not wanting to speak up and irritate him farther. once on the court, as always, he seemed to transform. his hits were much more aggressive than usual, his typical quiet grunts turning into full on groans as he served. you noticed how tense he looked, almost uncomfortable, and after half an hour you dropped your racket. “what’s going on, art?” you asked him, approaching the net. “nothing,” he said dismissively, serving another ball just to send it flying against the fence. “i can tell something’s up, you can talk to me,” you said, tilting your head up at him. you weren’t used to this side of him, so short and borderline angry. “i said i’m fine, do you want to play fucking tennis or not?” he snapped, and your eyes teared up in shock. “i guess not,” you snapped back, picking up your racket and rushing off the court, “i was just trying to be nice.” 

you made it halfway back to your dorm before you heard art calling after you, his tone pleading even from a yard away. “please wait, i’m sorry,” he called, and you heard his steps bounding up to you. you kept walking, desperate to be back in the comfort of your bed, and felt his fingers circle around your wrist, pulling you to a stop. “i don’t want to talk about it, art. just don’t worry about it, i’ll see you around,” you said, your tone clipped. “i am worried about it, i want to apologize. i shouldn’t have snapped, you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m just really stressed out and i shouldn’t have taken that out on you. will i still see you tomorrow?” he rushed out, looking at you intently. “it’s fine, seriously. i get it, i know you’re stretched really thin. we don’t have to do this anymore, i’m sure you get more than enough hitting practice with your coach and in your matches. thank you for the experience, though,” you said, turning away from him once again. “you can’t just blow me off,” he said, his rough tone from earlier creeping back, “i’m trying to apologize, not cancel our practices. if that’s what you want, then fine, but don’t blame it on me.” 

you walked away quickly, ashamed at the tears now slowly rolling down your face from the confrontation. you didn’t want to call off your practices, but you also didn’t want to become his verbal punching bag because he was exhausted. he didn’t come after you this time, and you felt more hurt than relieved. your tears kept coming, even after you reached your dorm room. you were so upset, you never even stopped to wonder how art knew which dorm was yours. 

three days passed, and you didn’t hear from him at all. it took almost all of your self control not to send him a text, or stop by one of his matches, but you held yourself back. on day four, there were flowers outside of your door. you rolled your eyes, squatting down to read the attached note. ‘west court, six thirty. art.’ you opened your door, placing the bouquet on your desk and throwing yourself onto your bed. your mind raced, debating if you should meet him or not, wondering what he would possibly have to say. you felt completely out of control as you changed into your tennis dress from that very first day you saw him, grabbing your racket and locking up your dorm. 

you walked onto the court at six thirty on the dot, with no art in sight. you sighed, sitting on the cold pavement and stretching your legs. ten minutes went by, then twenty, no art. at seven, you rolled your eyes and left the court, pulling out your phone to text him. ‘really nice, art. thanks for the flowers.’ you sent it, turning off your ringer and going back to your dorm, wanting the day to be over. you showered, changing into your pajamas, when you noticed your top drawer was open.  you knitted your eyebrows, sorting through the drawer, but not noticing anything missing. you told yourself you just left it open, and put on a movie on your small tv before going to sleep. 

the next morning, you woke up to a text from art. ‘i’m so sorry, i meant to come but got caught up in one of my classes. can i make it up to you?’ you ignored it, going about your morning routine and turning your phone off once you got to your literature class. when you exited, someone grabbed your wrist, yanking you out of the door frame. you gasped, your heart rate spiking, but immediately relaxed when you saw his familiar head of blonde curls. “what the hell, art? scared me to death,” you scolded, putting your hand on your chest. “you didn’t reply to my text, i just wanted to see you,” he said softly, rubbing your wrist where he had grabbed you, “did you like the flowers?” “would’ve liked seeing you more, but yeah, they were pretty. what’s going on with you? you’re acting so weird,” “i told you, i’ve just been stressed out. do you wanna get dinner or something? i feel like we’ve spent all this time together and we barely talk,” your eyes softened, and you nodded, “yeah, i’d like that. don’t stand me up this time,” “i’m not, promise. i can pick you up at seven?” “what should i wear?” “i’ll have something sent up to your dorm. see you at seven,” he said, and left you standing dumbfounded in the crowded hallway. 

at six, you climbed the stairs to your room once again, this time finding a department store garment bag hung over your doorknob. you blushed to yourself, taking it off the knob and entering your room. art had sent you a beautiful dark red dress, a silver necklace hung around the neckline to pair with it. your face reddened even more, your mind going to how much money he must have spent on this. as you pulled the dress from the bag, you saw a small note tied to the hanger. ‘you’re gonna look gorgeous. art’ you giggled to yourself, feeling like a high schooler giddy in love, and held the dress up to your body. he had somehow picked your perfect size, and only after looking in the mirror did you recognize the signature stanford color. 

you quickly straightened your hair, putting on the new dress and digging into your closet for shoes to pair it with. you sighed loudly when you came up empty handed, pacing around the room barefoot, unsure of what to do. you heard a knock on your door and ran your hair through your hair anxiously as you went to answer it. art stood in the hall once again, this time in a white button down and pressed black dress pants. your breath caught in your throat, all thoughts of your shoes gone as you took in the way he filled out the thin white shirt. “i realized i forgot shoes, and i had some time to kill so i hope these are alright,” he said, holding out a black shoebox. “oh, thank you so much. i was just thinking i didn’t have any wear,” you breathed a sigh of relief, moving back to hold your door open, “you can come in, i’ll just put these on and be ready.” he nodded, his eyes darting all around your room as he entered. you sat on the edge of your bed, leaning over to open the box. your breath faltered once again as you saw the gorgeous black heels. “these are beautiful, art. thank you,” you said, taking them out carefully. you slid one on, fumbling with the clasp. “do you mind helping? sorry, i can’t get the clasp with my nails,” you said, blushing slightly. he shot up from his seat, nodding, “yeah, here,” 

he kneeled in front of you, taking your calf into his hands gently and clasping the shoe with ease. he gently took your other foot into his hands, his thumb rubbing circles on your ankle as he slid your foot into the heel. you could feel your pulse all through your body, heart racing at the simple feeling of his gentle hands on your legs. “hey, how’d you know what size to get me?” you asked suddenly, realizing you hadn’t thought of it before. his face reddened just barely, and he said, “oh, i must’ve just noticed when you were stretching or something. i probably just guessed.” you nodded, still questioning it in your mind but not pushing it further. you closed your eyes in pleasure as he ran his hand up your calf, before standing up and holding the same hand out for you. “shall we?” 

he took you to a dimly lit, obviously expensive italian restaurant just off campus. “this is beautiful, i’ve never been here,” you said, in awe of the detailing on the walls and the subtle beauty of the design. “i’ve been once, with my parents when they were in town for a match. it’s pretty nice, nice wine selection,” he said, pulling out your chair for you. you thanked him, smoothing your dress down and sitting down. he took his seat across from you, immediately opening the drink menu, his eyes raking over the options. “do you have a preference?” he asked, peering at you over the menu. “no, i’m not much of a drinker so whatever you recommend is great,” you told him. the server came over, and you noticed how he instinctively turned toward art first, like he commanded all the attention in the room. “what wine would you like, mr. donaldson?” the server asked, and the realization struck you that art wasn’t just famous on campus, but more than likely all throughout the country. “we’ll do the 2005 pinot noir, thank you,” art replied, handing him the menu, “and you can just leave the bottle.” “perfect, i’ll be back shortly with that,” you smiled at art across the table, your eyebrows raised, “so, mr. donaldson,” you giggled. “yeah, unfortunately. nineteen years old and getting called mr. just because i won a few games,” he laughed, but you could see the tension underlying his laughter. “well, i think its cool. you’re a big deal,” you said reassuringly.

the waiter returned quickly with your wine, pouring you both glasses and asking art what you’d both like for your main course. “i’ll do the eight ounce wagyu with a caesar salad,” he replied, then nodded to you, “and she’ll have whatever she wants,” “oh, i’ll just have the ricotta ravioli, thank you so much,” the server nodded, heading to put your orders in, and art grinned at you. “you’re so polite, it’s endearing,” he said, his eyes gleaming. you blushed slightly, “i was just raised that way,” you said. “tell me more about how you were raised, i wanna hear all of it,” 

there was not a quiet moment the entire evening. you talked all about your life, growing up in the south, while art told you all about his busy upbringing in palo alto. his life was all tennis lessons, private school and flashy cars, something you were not accustomed to. you found yourself wishing you could have known him when you were both young, before the world had shaped him into the hardened version of himself he was now. he seemed calmer through dinner, like you could see the tension melting from his body with every laugh that left your lips, or every brush of your hand against his over the table. 

with all your talking, you didn’t notice his one glass of wine to your four, didn’t notice how his jokes started to get much, much funnier, how the touch of his hand started to feel almost euphoric. when he said it was time for him to get you home, you protested, telling him he couldn’t drive yet. “oh, i’m alright,” he assured you, “i had one glass before our meal even came, i promise i’m fine to drive,” you pouted your lips, confused why he had stopped but let you keep downing glass after glass. a slight pang of anxiety formed in your chest at the thought that maybe it had been intentional, but you quickly pushed it away, telling yourself that art wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, or make you uncomfortable. 

the drive home was full of laughs and his hand was on your thigh, rubbing small circular motions. you sighed, leaning your head back against the seat. “tonight was really fun, art. thank you again, for the dress and the shoes and everything,” you said sweetly, adoration in your eyes as you watched his skilled hands around the steering wheel. “of course, it was my pleasure,” he said, glancing over at you. the streetlights made his blonde hair look like a halo. “we should do it again,” you said. “yeah, absolutely. whenever you want,” he smiled, “i’d love that.” 

he walked you up to your dorm, holding onto your arm the whole way to keep you steady. “i think i’m a little drunk,” you finally admitted, halfway up the stairs. “yeah, i can tell,” he said, grinning down at you, “you gonna be alright in here alone?” “oh, yeah, i should be fine. you could stay for a little, if you wanted,” you said, focusing your eyes on his lips as his grin widened. “oh, i don’t know if that’s a good idea tonight,” he said, “but next time, of course,” you pouted slightly, but nodded, agreeing. “well here’s your door,” he said, gesturing to the doorway, “do you want me to unlock it for you?” you nodded again, handing him your keys, watching as his fingers wrapped around the key and twisted the lock. “thank you, art,” you giggled, “thank you for the whole night. no one’s ever taken me to dinner before. not a boy, anyway.” “i find that hard to believe, but i’m glad i could be the first,” he smiled, pushing a stray curl from your face, “you should get some rest. goodnight, love,” he leaned down, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to your cheek, and he was gone before the warmth of it had time to fade. 

you woke up the next day, head pounding, dress still on. you smiled to yourself as you remembered the events of the night, trailing your fingertips across your cheek where art had kissed you. you got dressed for classes with a skip in your step, unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face all the way through the day. you didn’t have practice with art that evening, so the thought to surprise him popped into your head. 

you approached one of his tennis friends, michael, in the dining hall. “hey, sorry if this sounds weird, but do you know art’s dorm number? i had something to give him, and-” he cut you off, smirking. “yeah, it’s 38. second floor, third door on your right. knock yourself out,” he said. you blushed, thanking him quickly and leaving. the embarrassment of his presumption stunted your confidence in your actions, but you proceeded to his dorm anyway, sure that he’d want to see you. 

when you approached room 38, you hesitated to knock, questioning yourself once again on if this was right or not. as you stepped closer to the door, you heard quiet moaning, so faint it was barely noticeable. it was definitely a man, all breathy grunts, but you couldn’t tell if it was art for sure. you told yourself he must have a roommate, surely he didn’t have a girl in his room, surely he wouldn’t do that to you. your mind raced, until all thoughts were halted by the clear moan of your name through the door. your heart skipped, and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip, confusion clouding your thoughts. you should just leave, you thought, just go and never speak a word of this to him. but curiosity got the best of you, and suddenly you were knocking on his door, cheeks red and eyebrows furrowed.

you heard some clambering inside, before moments later, a sweat sheened, pink cheeked art opened the door. “jesus, what are you doing here? you scared me,” he said, and you took note of how breathless he was. “oh, i just wanted to say hi, since we didn’t have any practice today,” you said, “can i come in?” “yeah, of course, come on in,” he said, quickly recovering his face and smiling down at you. you entered his room, taking in the tennis posters covering the walls, the dark comforter on the twin size bed. it was clean, cleaner than you’d expect a male dorm room to be, but smelled distinctly of art. “this is cozy,” you complimented. “it’s alright, about as good as one of these shitty dorms can be. i’m just waiting for my sophomore year so i can live off campus,” he said, shrugging, “i like yours much more. here, you can sit anywhere.” you sat on the corner of his bed, not wanting to make yourself too comfortable, “so, were you busy when i came? i’m sorry if it was a bad time,” you could’ve sworn his face reddened, but he quickly recovered, insisting that he hadn’t been busy at all. “did you want to do something? or were you just saying hello?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “just saying hello. i need to get home, i have a seven am lecture. i’ll see you at six thirty tomorrow?” you confirmed. “yeah, of course. i’ll see you then,” he smiled, and you gave the room one last scan before heading for the door. “well, goodnight art,” you smiled, walking out into the hallway. you couldn’t shake the feeling that the light pink panties shoved just under his bedframe had been yours.

two hours later, you were laying in bed, unable to sleep. all you could think about was what you had clearly seen in art’s floor hours prior, and your mind raced with the possibility that they were yours. he could’ve snagged them when he came in to give you your shoes, but you couldn’t understand why he would possibly do that. your imagination ran wild, filthy images of your panties wrapped around his cock, the sound of him groaning out your name as he fucked into fist, his cum all over the pink fabric. your thighs squeezed together, hot tension building between them. you wondered what it would feel like for him to touch you, for those long, skilled fingers to work their way into your core, to make you fall apart for him. you wondered if the sounds he made during tennis were anywhere near as alluring as the sounds he’d make while he fucked your throat. you couldn’t ignore the burning, intense desire anymore, and slipped your hands into your pajama shorts. you tried your hardest to suppress your moans as you circled your fingers around your clit, thinking about art, about his toned arms, his long fingers, his plush pink lips. how good it would feel to have those lips wrapped around your clit instead of your fingers, how beautiful he’d look pumping you full of his cum. you came quickly, art’s name shamelessly tumbling from your lips as you bucked your hips to meet your own hand. you fell asleep thinking of him holding you. 

don't let me in with no intention to keep me

jesus christ, don't be kind to me

honey, don't feed me, i will come back

the next day, you went to your classes, trying your best  not to let art completely consume your thoughts. hot shame burned the forefront of your mind from what you’d done, the things you’d thought about him. part of you was worried from the intensity, the suddenness of your closeness and attraction to art. part of you wondered if you should end things before they got to be too much. you weren’t used to this, to this all consuming need for another person. you told yourself this wasn’t like you, touching yourself to the thought of a man you’d only been on one date with. and you worried about why, and how, art had your things in his room. you were ashamed at how hot you’d found it, now acutely aware of how dangerous it could be, a man being that interested in you that he would stoop to stealing your panties from your room, to moaning your name behind closed doors. most of all, you were ashamed of how you didn’t care, how you wanted to fall into whatever this was with art, how you’d let him do whatever he wanted with you. 

at six thirty, you entered the court you’d become all too familiar with. art was serving to the fence again, beads of sweat already rolling off his back. “how long have you been out here?” you called, smiling when he turned to face you. “not too long, got bored waiting on you to get out of class,” he replied, crossing the court to stand before you, “maybe we could do something else, instead of practicing. i’ve worn myself out,” you found this hard to believe, but didn’t protest. “like what?” “whatever you want, we could go to dinner or see a movie or you could come to my room. whatever sounds best to you,” he said, already putting away his racket. “maybe we could go for a walk? if you’re not too tired, of course. i’ve been cooped up in classrooms all day,” “yeah, of course. a walk sounds great,” 

the two of you walked all around campus, talking about your days and how exhausted you both were. “i don’t know how i’ve never asked you this, but are you staying off campus next year too?” he asked you suddenly. “uh, no,” you said honestly, “i can’t really afford to move out of the dorms, to be honest. i’ve got my tuition and housing covered, and i really don’t mind the dorms, they’re comfy,” “you could always stay with me,” he said, and you stopped in your tracks. “i actually wanted to talk to you about that, well something like that,” you said, your anxiety almost tripping up your words, “do you think maybe we’re, well whatever we’re doing, is moving a little fast? i know we were practicing together for a while, but we’ve only just started really talking, and i’m just not used to this kind of thing,” his expression hardened quickly, his eyes darting everywhere but you. “yeah, that’s fine, it’s not really a big deal to me,” he said dismissively, “i was just being nice.” “oh, yeah of course. i feel silly now,” you rambled, laughing awkwardly, “it’s just, you know the date was really lovely and i’d love to do it again, but i didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” “and what idea would that be, specifically?” “just, y’know, didn’t want us to get ahead of ourselves. didn’t want you to get the idea that it was more than it was or anything,” “and what is it exactly?” “oh, i don’t know. we’re friends, and i really like you, and i like getting to know you-” he cut you off, his jaw tight, “friends? that’s what you think we are? friends?” 

your brows furrowed, confused, “well yeah, i thought we were friends. are we not friends?” “i didn’t know that’s all this was, no. but that’s fine, if that’s what you want,” he backed away from you slowly, looking like he had the night he yelled at you. “art, wait, i didn’t mean-” “no, i get it completely. i’ll see you in a couple days, yeah? have a good night,” “wait, don’t go,” you protested, but he was already quickly walking away from you. you tried to ignore the irony in your position, how you had left him standing there in your previous fight. you tried to ignore the flashes of pain in his eyes when you said you were friends, the look of betrayal across his face. you focused on coming up with a plan to make it up to him, as he had with you, and this occupied your mind your entire walk home. 

art spent the next few days miserable, throwing rackets during matches, snapping at his coaches, straining his muscles to the point that he spent each afternoon with the team’s physical therapist. he couldn’t believe the audacity, the stupidity of you to say you were just friends. you had to have known, had to have felt the intensity in his feelings for you. he told himself you didn’t mean it, but each time he pictured the certainty on your face, his anger made his concern for your feelings on the situation dissolve entirely. it was like you did it on purpose, talking to him so sweetly on your date, showing up at his fucking dorm, just to claim you were friends. friends didn’t touch themselves to the thought of the other, didn’t moan friends names as they came, alone in their dorm room. granted, you didn’t know that he had seen, didn’t know that he had almost came at the high pitched moans you let out. he was sure, now, that he’d never get to hear them for himself. 

a week after your fight, you worked up the courage to send art a text. ‘hey, miss you. i’ve been trying to plan some grand gesture, but they all feel wrong after the date you planned. meet me at the court tonight? we can talk, or we can play. whatever you want, just come please,’ you sent it, biting your lip with anxiety awaiting his response. 

it can't be unlearned

i’ve known the warmth of your doorways

through the cold, i'll find my way back to you

oh, please, give me mercy no more

that's a kindness you can't afford

i warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born

you'll hear me howling outside your door

he responded to your text an hour later, a simple, ‘i’ll be there,’ but it was good enough for you. you once again put on the tennis dress you’d worn the first time art had noticed you, putting your hair into a neat ponytail and lacing up your nikes. at six thirty, you waited anxiously for his arrival, reapplying your chapstick to busy your hands. he walked in, a careless, lazy expression on his face, but you could see the squareness of his shoulders, the hardness of his jaw. “thank you for coming,” you said, your voice timid. “of course i came,” he said, his voice as tense as his muscles. “i thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see me, after what i said. i need to apologize, i don’t think we’re just friends, i just didn’t know what else to say. i don’t know what this is, but i really like you, and it scares me,” you rambled, your face hot. he quickly crossed the distance between you, his gaze intense. “and?” he bit out. “and what? and i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, art. i don’t want to just be your friend, i never wanted that. it’s just, you make me feel all these things so strongly and it really is scary-”

 “you don’t think it’s scary for me? all my life, i’ve only been good at tennis, at shutting the fuck up and playing the game, and that was fine with me. i didn’t care about having a fucking girlfriend, didn’t need real friends, didn’t want to spend my time hearing someone else tell me their bullshit problems, nothing. i just played the fucking game, minded my business, if i needed to get off i’d fuck some randmon fan, i didn’t care. and then i saw you, and fuck, you’re just so pretty, and you looked so oblivious, so fucking sweet. i just had to have you. do you know how that felt? all my fucking thoughts, everything, just you. i waited, i was so good and i waited but then i had you, right on the tips of my fucking fingers i had you. then you look me in my face and tell me we’re just friends? fuck that, i’m not your fucking friend. i have sat by and been patient and i’ve kept it to myself but i won’t wait anymore, i won’t fucking do it. i need you, goddamn it, i think about it all the fucking time,” 

before you could say anything, he tilted your jaw up to face him roughly, crashing his lips into yours. you were taken back by the force, your feet stumbling slightly, but his hand on your low back righted your posture. the kiss was rough, teeth clashing and his tongue searching desperately for yours. you moaned into the kiss as he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, the taste of your blood filling both of your mouths. he pulled away, his bloody lips kissing down your neck, biting roughly as you just gasped above him. his hand held your jaw still, his thumb digging into your pulse point, choking you slightly. “you don’t know how long i’ve waited for this,” he growled, kissing back up to the shell of your ear. he raked his teeth over the sensitive skin, his breath echoing in your eardrum, “wanted to fucking bruise you and bite you and make you cry for me.” he pulled away from you suddenly, pulling you over to the edge of the court, right against the fence. “art, wait,” you protested weakly, your hands coming to his chest.

“i’m done fucking waiting,” he snarled, his hands roughly grabbing your ass, “not gonna wait anymore. gonna make you all mine, see if you ever try that friends shit again. if you don’t want this, you tell me to stop,” his fingers came between your thighs, pressing into your cunt through your dress, “but i don’t believe you want me to stop, i can feel you through your slutty little dress.” you moaned as his fingers curled against you, grinding your hips into his hand desperately. he turned you around suddenly, your face pressed against the chain link of the fence. the cold air surprised you as he flipped the skirt of your dress over your ass, yanking your panties to the side. “we can’t do this here,” you protested, trying to straighten out your back, “someone will see.” “why do you think i always bring you here, baby? nobody’s gonna see a fucking thing,” he said, his tone smug, “nobody’s gonna hear you moaning under me, hear you cumming on my cock. we’re all alone out here.” 

you gasped loudly as he kneeled beneath you, his tongue sliding between the folds of your pussy. your legs immediately began to shake, your knees nearly buckling. his tongue slid inside of you, fucking you with the tip of it as his fingers came around to rub at your clit. “art, fuck, please,” you moaned, grinding against his face roughly. he pulled away, his fingers continuing their motions, “please what? you want me to fuck you against this fence like the fucking whore you are, hm? is that you want?” when you just moaned in response, his free hand smacked your ass roughly, digging his nails into the sensitive skin, “fucking answer me.” “yes, please, want you to fuck me so bad, i’m sorry just please,” you begged, your voice nearly breaking into a sob. he was behind you in an instant, his clothed hips rubbing against you, his breath on your neck. “gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget why you ever told me we’re just friends,” he said, biting down on your neck roughly. you knew you’d have marks the next day, could feel blood bubbling to the surface of your barely broken skin. 

his joggers came down, and your breath hissed as he teased your entrance, rubbing his cock between your folds teasingly. “tell me again you want me to fuck you,” he spat, gripping your hip with one hand. “need you to fuck me, art, please,” you pleaded, trying your hardest to rub your hips against him, gain some friction. without warning, he slid into you, both hands on your hips roughly now. “fuck, oh my god,” you all but screamed, hands clinging to the chain link desperately. he fucked into you at a vicious pace, one hand on your hip, one underneath your stomach holding up. “you look so fucking pretty taking my cock,” he groaned, leaning over to you to press hasty kisses down your back, “feel so fucking good,” “feels so good, thank you,” you moaned, near tears from the intense pleasure. “thought about this for so long, you have no idea what i’ve done, what i’ll do to you if you ever try to leave me,” he growled, his thrusts getting even rougher. his balls slapped against your clit, the added stimulation sending you even closer to the edge. “want you to cum on my dick and fucking suck it off,” he moaned,  and you could tell from the stutter of his hips he was close too. he changed his position, fucking into you faster, and you nearly screamed at the new sensation. “art, gonna cum, fuck,” you moaned out, your walls constricting around him tightly. his hand came down to your clit, rubbing harshly, desperately, and you let go. 

your orgasm hit you roughly, crying out and your knees giving way completely. he fucked you through it, holding back his own orgasm until he was sure you were through. when the spasms around him slowed, he pulled out of you roughly, forcing you to your knees in front of him. “open your fucking mouth,” he moaned, holding your jaw tightly. you opened for him, sticking your tongue out as far as you could manage, and he slid his cock into your mouth, groaning loudly as he did. you could’ve cum again just from the taste of you and him, all mixed together, a filthy reminder of what you’d just done. he fucked into your mouth roughly, hands holding your ponytail tightly. “gonna cum down your throat,” he moaned, his hips stuttering once again, “so fucking close, you’re doing so good,” as soon as you cast your eyes up to make contact with his beautiful blue ones, he lost it. he came straight down your throat, hips bucking wildly and profanities flying from his mouth. you swallowed as it came, and his hips slowed eventually, until he pulled out of your mouth entirely. “did so fucking good,” he panted, pulling you to your feet, “kiss me,” and you did, your mouth still tasting of his cum. he groaned into the kiss, his hand going to your hair once again. 

you pulled away to catch your breath, leaning your forehead against his chin. “that was so good, baby. are you okay?” he asked you, his voice softer than you’d heard it in days. you nodded, still catching your breath, and he tilted your chin up to face him. “don’t ever do that again, okay? don’t want you to ever question what we have. you’re all mine, and i’m all yours, and nothing else matters, yeah? isn’t that right?” “mhm, you’re right. i’m sorry again, art, didn’t mean it,” you said, resigned to anything but him in this moment. “it’s alright now, baby. you know better now,” 

he had you right where he wanted you.

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim's fiancee gets arrested when a cop (let's say Lucy or someone) (this is after they are rookies) arrests her because she looks like a suspect they already caught, his fiancee told them she was engaged to Tim but they didn't believe her and Tim gets mad at the officer - <3

wrong place, wrong time - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: very sorry about how long its taken me to write, had a lot of stuff to do this week lol! this ones a little short <333

word count: 850

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Waking up with Tim being gone was normal, even after he had left the military his day continued to start at 6 am sharp. Although on weekends he would cut himself some slack to hold you until you were ready to get out of bed and begin with your various tasks you two needed to get done.

Today didn’t start off any different, waking up only a few hours after Tim had, at a ripe 8:30am.

Rubbing your eyes you flung your legs to your left, your warm feet chilling almost immediately at the cold wooden flooring of you and Tim’s shared bedroom. A shiver shot through your nerves and up your spine, you sighed lightly at the shift in temperature and made your departure to the bathroom.

The spring air seeped into the sunlit room, the fresh morning breeze filling your soul with flowers and bright colors. Music filled the house whilst you finished your morning routine making breakfast and feeding Kojo.

You started out your afternoon deciding to head to the local library, wanting to return a book you had borrowed before you were charged with a late fee. 

The library wasn’t full since it was the afternoon and school was still in session, “hello! i’m here to return a book” you said in a chipper but quiet tone. The librarian smiled and took the book, checking it back into the system and sending you on your way.

Your next stop was a supermarket, you had only a handful of items that were needed. Tim had run out of coffee filters this morning and you needed more shampoo, you also opted to get a new water bowl for Kojo, not that he needed one, you just thought it was cute.

As you walked out to your car you were stopped with a taser pointed directly at your torso, “get on your knees with your hands up!” a woman yelled.

Your confused manor caused your reaction to be delayed, causing the police officer to yell once again. “Get down on the ground with your hands up, now!” you immediately get down to your knees and put your shaking hands up. 

“You got the wrong person, I swear! Call Tim Bradford, he's my Fiancé!” you pleaded, the cop with the name ‘Chen’ on her shirt just scoffed and laughed you off while stuffing you in the back of her squad car.

The ride to the precinct was uncomfortable, the cuffs were digging into the skin of your wrists. “Officer please, I'm not whoever you think I am. All you have to do is call Bradford, he’ll tell you exactly what I'm telling you know” you tried to plead your case once again, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Tim doesn’t have a fiancé, he was my T.O, i think i would know a big detail like him having a girlfriend” she laughed, feeling as though it was ridiculous to even entertain your words.

As you were brought into the station to get your picture taken and be put into holding, Chen passed you onto another officer and went to tell Grey about her catch. 

To Lucy’s surprise everyone had already been packing up the evidence and started paperwork, “what’s going on?” Lucy questioned, “we caught the killer, she was at her parents place shooting up when we got there” Tim explained. Lucy was confused, “so if you caught the killer, who do i have in holding?” the question hung in the air, Tim looking at her with perplexed eyes.

Lucy walked Tim over to holding and that’s where Tim saw you, “oh thank god!” you exclaimed seeing Tim. He hurried over to you taking your cuffs off and waving off the other officers. “Chen, why is my fiancé sitting here in cuffs?” Tim sternly asks, Lucy looks down, stuttering and trying to explain herself.

“Tim it’s fine, she was just doing her job” you did your best to defend Lucy, “No y/n, this is not okay, if it had been anyone else this would be a lawsuit” he turned his body at you but his tone was directed at Lucy.

“Tim i’m sorry, I didn’t know we had already caught the suspect and she looked exactly like our suspect” Lucy tried to explain, stumbling over her words.

“You are going to go to Grey and explain everything, lucky for you, y/n isn’t going to file a report against you” Tim assigned Lucy, to which she scurried away. “Are you okay? oh christ your wrists,” his questions and concerns came at you with speed.

“Tim, baby, I'm okay,” you smiled trying to calm him down. Tim held your wrists in his hands, and kissed them. He hoped his love would be enough to soothe your angry red skin, “i’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened” he persisted. 

You shut him up with a kiss, “drive me to go pick up my car” your smile made him relax. “Yes ma’am” he laughed, telling Grey where he was going, and walking out hand in hand with you, still profusely apologizing.

[fukashiin]

high school sweethearts au

— w. riddle, ace, leona, jack, octatrio (collectively), jamil, vil, rook, silver, malleus

⤷ oh dear diary, i met a boy, he made my dull heart light up with joy.

a/n: a valentine's day special!! i enjoyed writing this sm<33

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS AS

⤷ THE STUDENT LIBRARIAN !

- the student who volunteered for library duties when no one else would. he mostly works behind the counter with his eyes glued to the screen of his computer—looking for the names of those who had overdue books to return. an esteemed honour student at the same time, the envious mixture of methodical and dutiful that makes the role of a student librarian fit him like a glove.

- he mostly reads at his own pace—a fascinating volume of historical topics covered through the years. rusted evidence that he likes to give his own insights on at the tip of his fingers. sometimes people catch him wondering a bit too far, as his eyes stray off to certain page for way too long.

- despite his free time, he still takes care of his own duties that needs to be carried out, from arranging books back to their rightful shelves, tidying up used tables of its multi-coloured eraser shavings and lost pencils that he hands up to the lost-and-found.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- you often stop by the library for self-revision, a thick stack of textbooks that sit pretty at the side of your table as you have your own necessities. you don’t have much to do after this particular study session, so you plan to head back to your own dorm after reliving your memory of the chapters the teachers have went through with you in class today.

- strangely, unknowingly—the table you sit at is always empty. always reserved for a certain someone. that’s when your relationship with riddle started to bloom.

- any time he spots you at the corner of his eye once you enter the air-conditioned space, he throws a small smile your way and elegantly places the book he was reading down to stroll to your side to help you carry your bag that you were sure was about to dislocate your shoulder. 

- he sits by your side whenever you needed help, some topics just simply played a baffling game of chess with your head that you dread to the core. but he’s more than happy to help one way or another. either to point out to you specific key words, gently grabbing the highlighter out of your grasp, initiating eye contact with you with the textbook closed to help you memorise important points for so long the rate of his heartbeat starts to speed up—

- the air between you two really alleviates your burden and the packed schedule you have to attend to on a daily basis. with school is a bucket of workload that’s dumped onto you. with riddle, is a soft feeling. you don’t have to worry about your planned itineraries for the day and you can be yourself for a while.

he’s full comfort, a swift reminder of those drizzly cinnabuns you two go for a bite for when classes are over for the day. 

- it’s no surprise he has his plate full with library duties either. so to pay him back, you offer him to head for a bookstore somewhere outside the campus, assuring him that you’ll deal with things when his mom intervenes for his “unthinkable” behaviour. in return, he’ll purchase as many books for you as want. hard covers, too.

ACE TRAPPOLA AS

⤷ THE PLAYER ON THE BASKETBALL TEAM !

- it’s as in-character as you think it is. you’ve lost count of the number of times he’s pointed a conspicuous finger at you when you’re sitting on the bleachers, yelling out your name and promising he’ll score a shot for you! much to his disappointment (and surprise, for some reason), the ball just bounces right off the hoop and crashes into another player on the team.

- the indoor sports hall is a huge advantage for him since it lets him connect his phone to the bluetooth speakers, letting him blast out his music of choice that consists of endless tracks from nba youngboy and eminem when the coaches were absent and the company could carry on with free training. 

- his classmates adore him, but the teachers hold their breath in at the thought of having him in their class. a truly slothful student to some extent—but is able to ace every test given out. higher authorities wanted to believe their eyes were playing a trick on them when they take a glance at his report card that contained a full, gleaming row of straight A’s.

- cheeky at heart and playfully flirts with whoever he wants just for the fun of it, not to get their contact number just to ghost them later on like he did with a past lover. he’s learned his mistake and he’s willing to do better, both academically and athletically. but he supposes he could get used to the popularity for a while.

YOUR DYNAMIC 

- resists the urge to dropkick his teammates whenever they send out mischievous whistles his direction when they see you with him. he’s just asking for your notes! nothing else in mind like scrawling his phone number down on some lined-paper and slipping it into the back of your notebook in hopes that you notice and send out a few messages to him when you’re back at your place (and develop into something more...?)

- the type of person who didn’t believe in young love at first before he met you. now, you two make small trips to the school cafeteria to purchase your favourite smoothies when practise was stopped to a 5 minute break. smoothly sweet talks his way out of paying—but doesn’t see your kindness to be taken control over. In return, he tells you the answers for the upcoming test he was able to get his hands on, whether you’re going to use them or not.

- denies (anticipated) accusations that you and him were together in an “uncool” manner, according to him. it’s even worse when you’re present, there to see his face burst in pink and his speedy mannerisms, like telling you to “ignore them!” or shoving you into the nearest locker so his friends don’t catch a glimpse of you.

- sometimes his eyes stay on your face for way too long the atmosphere starts to contort into a weird, one-sided stare-off when it’s supposed to be your one-on-one study session with him. you take notice that he’s not looking at the tip of your pen that’s pointing to a specific part of his notes and threaten to poke his eyes out if he doesn’t focus. you could only giggle internally when he fumbles about and retracts his stare from your face.

- questions you if you’ve been in any past relationships, only to reject hearing your answer when he’s too afraid that he may be outshone in some way.

- but you reassure him that you haven’t, and you’re more than happy to enter into one with him. with that, you see him gleefully punch a fist into the air once he’s off on his way to tell his teammates about it, too in his thoughts that he forgets about the teasing he’s about to be bombarded with afterwards.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AS 

⤷ THE CLASS SLACKER !

- similar to his junior ace in some ways. petty, bored, but effortlessly gets the highest grade in the class. it’s no surprise that even the overachiever who sits behind him and sees his big, outstanding ‘100′ penned in red at the corner of his paper that easily outdoes their imperfect ‘98′, has to keep their tongue in to ward off the nasty feeling of shooting the rudest vulgarities out of their mouth.

- lessons in session automatically translates to “do whatever you want for the period”—no matter the subject he takes. he often gets caught folding paper origamis or writing down the most prankish notes just to crumble it up and toss it the teacher’s way.

hands a little too skillful has him crafting numberless spitballs that he uses as imaginary missiles to shoot into random people’s hair. the preppy boys can wave a sad goodbye to hair day when leona appears with a handmade launcher in the hallway.

- though with such a behaviour, leona somehow seems to make himself appear approachable from his short-formed responses and dismissive nods. but could anyone have ever guessed that he would act so mind-blowingly different with someone else?

YOUR DYNAMIC

-  if he ever catches your mood down in the dumps, he insists you to come with him to the cat cafe that holds many cuddly creatures to help aid the minds of those tireless students piled with projects to complete with mind-boggling deadlines. either he enjoys getting swarmed by the adorable army of kitties himself, or looks at you with the softest eyes thinking about how you strangely resemble them as you get lost in distant laughter when one of them decide to curl up in your lap.

- sneakily shares his stash of snacks that he managed to shove into his bag at the back of the class when the two of you were luckily placed together during seat arranging. each low-key pass of a sweet was complimented by his deep chuckle as he feels rewarded by the numerous suspicious stares that fly by both of your ways.

- nonchalantly terrifies any cheap intimidators when he catches you getting cornered. you wonder if his initial plan backfired and that he actually made them fall in love with him with his unfairly gorgeous face? (you don’t blame them)

- growls at whoever takes the chance to wake him up from his day-to-day naps, rolling his eyes at their dumbassery when it’s a whole different story when it comes to you. when you do it (with panicked warnings you got beforehand), leona takes a while to get familiar with the touch of your skin and swishes his tail from side to side when he recognises your oh-so sweet scent he cherishes to the moon and back. 

raises an eyebrow at you for being so brave to take the opportunity to wake him up, promising he’ll pay you back tenfold when in fact, he really, really hopes he can grow much more affectionate with you when time passes, until skin contact becomes a normal thing between the two of you.

JACK HOWL AS 

⤷ THE (ACTUALLY SMART) JOCK !

- people genuinely wonder in disbelief why he’s so taken aback by the number of students who swoon over him when they see him doing his daily sets of warm-ups in the gym by himself. his ear twitches in the slightest when he feels four—five, pairs of eyes burning right into his back.

- he’s a lone wolf to some extent- but that doesn’t mean he’ll drive away his friends who thrive to stretch right beside him, despite being a literal twig compared to jack. they’ll all do tons of sets together while emitting the roughest groans from their aching bodies until sweat is seeping ceaselessly out of their outfits.

unsurprisingly, jack is still up and full of stamina as he silently praises himself for not being as slow-minded as his friends since he changed into his p.e attire ahead of time. +10 health gained back for him.

- the coaches normally pick him out as the representative when international competitions are around the corner. with him representing the school, there’s definitely going to be headlines and news reports made about them! except when he actually wins it isn’t. people are seen firing bountiful praises online at jack for his athleticism for a 16 year old, in awe at how he always manages to place first.

- is more than happy to help anyone out when activities take a wrong turn and result in them being injured. whether if it’s being in a wheelchair or in crutches, he takes the opportunity to bring them to their destination on time.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- his eyes immediately dart to you when the teacher announces for everyone to form a pair for pre-activity stretching. he takes the lead to call out what set of stretches to do and helps to adjust your posture or the angle of wherever your arm is pointing to. his firm hands coming in contact with your body invites a quick rush of blood to your cheeks, startled with the sudden proximity that came about. it doesn’t help the fact that his steady breath is on your skin, unaware of his swift movements that he didn’t bat an eye to (why is he like this?)

- when all the physical stuff is done for the day, he’ll give you a small nudge on the shoulder and tell you he’s going to get some water. what took you aback was when you thought he was getting it for himself—being as hardworking as he is, it only makes sense to reward himself for putting up with you and your incapability with some activities.

 - but instead, he brings back two bottles of water, briskly handing one over to you before he open his. he makes sure to assure you that you weren’t a problem at all, and that you deserve a restful break after all your physical exertion.

- not just crazy athletic but simultaneously smart as well! but when his classmates ask for his homework answers in dire need to not be caught by the teacher, he hits them with a “you should’ve done it at home” and gets up from his seat to hand in his work. you don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for that person. the student then gawks at both you and jack when he lets you in on his answers instead.

- even when he has an enormous fanbase full of people who adore him and wish to talk to him more just for the sake of it, he always makes sure to come to you first, to check in on your health, both mentally and physically, to know that you’re healthy and ready for the day. 

OCTATRIO AS 

⤷ THE POPULAR GROUP !

- as the owners of a lounge that’s quite far from school grounds with quality dishes you’ll never find anywhere else and their dashing looks that shoot an arrow right through people’s lovestruck hearts, it’s no wonder that their popularity skyrockets through the roof when you found out that they go here. you’ve seen a few of the posts they share on magicam—and they’re the perfect definition of young, beautiful, and dirty rich.

- people would kill to watch them pass by in the hallways of the very school they’re in. this trio, with their alluring cologne and clad in neat, tidy clothing that doesn’t even necessarily have to be of the latest trends but still making them look amazing—ambling in the bustling halls? suddenly, lessons were called off for the day and there’s no homework due the day after. the trio quietly snicker to each other in the process.

- there’s definitely a fangroup about them. all they could be doing was to order lunch at the school cafeteria, and the group chat students made based on them would turn wild when floyd faces back to give a sly “cheese~” at the camera that was facing his way.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- unfairly spoils you to death as they give you special discounts at the lounge, telling you that it doesn’t matter whatever you order, their vip customer is always getting 10% off the price. if that’s too low—azul’s more than willing to give you a better benefit. proceeding your easy-earned discounts, jade suggests that they carefully plan out a drink based off of you and your personality, questionable intentions in mind as he proposes the idea to make it the most expensive drink on the menu too.

- absolutely loves to have you sit at their table during break, letting you in on their latest gossip. the amount of intel that they collected on their recent “customer” that created a scene at the lounge for not being open when it clearly had its working hours placed at the entry is rather concerning. floyd gives a shameless wink your way and tells you to not reveal this treasured piece of information. (gaslight gatekeep girlboss)

- weekend sleepovers at their place consists of them researching the finest ingredients and dishes to add to the menu and them serving up some steaming platter for you to try your taste buds on to give some feedback on it.  well, including a small competition to win your heart over as well.

- people are flabbergasted at the amount of attention you receive from these three. “jealous” wasn’t a word too far off to describe their feelings either, and it wasn’t any better. you’d sometimes wonder whether it was a good idea to become friends with this particular trio.

but you can rest assured that they’ll handle with any bad outcomes that dares to come about, and if it’s regarding their large fanbase—they have just the solution. nobody would say no to rushing to the lounge and being up to date with the latest release of their newest dish that you so nicely tried out for them.

- even as the three of them secretly try their best to win your heart over, they’ll also make sure to check with your boundaries and query you if they ever pass the line of comfort. if that so happens anytime, they’ll apologise by doing whatever you want free of charge! they dote on you a whole ton, and truthfully, relish in the time they get to spend with you.

JAMIL VIPER AS

⤷ THE SKATER BOY !

- the student who’s effortlessly charismatic because of his chill and dismissive attitude. the teachers are either pulling their hair out because of him or praising him for being early to class as they spot him waiting outside with him and his rusty ipod he just found that’s been collecting dust in his storage room. he vaguely remembers it as a gift given by a loved one, hence, why he keeps it safe wherever he goes.

- comes to class ROCKING those white vans like okay??? i see you???

- concerning him and school as a whole—it’s just as if he slithers right by his classmates’ attention like how a snake slithers through grass. he’s awfully sly and nimble, skipping class just to head out to the skate park that’s spray painted in graffiti all over by some infamous artists. he personally doesn’t care—it just adds to his presence of mind and how much fun he’s going to have. self-skating sessions are a fresh breather for him, indifferent to his number of absences.

- and don’t forget the secret rush of ego he gets when people stop and stare to watch him do his challenging tricks over the ramps and metal railings. it’s mesmerising how his hair flows so prettily in the wind and the golden glow of the sunset that highlights his features, like, how some people dramatise, an angel fallen from the blinding heavens. jamil rolls his eyes behind their backs once he’s finished his set of tricks.

YOUR DYNAMIC 

- honestly didn’t think of you much when you two first met, but now his heart, baggy clothes, and skateboard are all yours.

- when you spot him alone in the corner of the classroom when it’s a free period, a smile inevitably creeps up his face and he gives a relaxed wave as you come up and say hi to him. you’ve always been rather interested in his music taste and what was playing on those ipods of his, so when you do make it noticeable to him, he takes out the left side of his earphones and places it in your ear for you, fingers brushing the shell of your ears. you hope he didn’t feel how boiling-hot it was.

- daily stop-bys at the vending machine to talk about hot shit. you both agreed to pay for the drinks for the other on some days and do the same back. he finds such a leisure time so precious and, as much as he’s having double thoughts about it, he’d very rather much spend his alone time with you than in a class filled with students. especially when the class clown is present. eugh.

- he’s memorised your go-to drinks by now, and whenever you’re absent from school, he makes an effort to walk to your place to tend to you and hand over your favourite beverage once you’re up and better than ever.

- texts you in the dead of the night, asking if you’d want to head over to the skate park with him there to teach you some tricks he’s learnt on his own accord. agreeing was probably the best thing you’ve done all day, with the built-up pressure you get to release on your time with him as he helps you get rid of your muscle strains. he holds your body close, keeping you balanced on his skateboard as the late night breeze whisks through your clothes and the luminous shine that comes from the stars above makes him feel grateful for being here, with you. alone and together with no one to interfere.

VIL SCHOENHEIT AS

⤷ THE SCHOOL TRENDSETTER !

- as you may have guessed, the student who has the largest following in the entire student body. to help maintain his public image—he makes sure to arrive to school glammed up, with smooth and silky hair he applied the perfect fragrance of rosemary oil on to and his latest combination of outfits that’s bound to go viral both on magicam and in the school. he makes it a habit to bring along his miniature makeup pouch with him wherever he goes!

- instantly gets a whopping 100 views on his latest story he posted on his account about the most recent addition to the school cafeteria’s menu. he’s hyper-aware of his calorie intake, so he probably criticises it in the caption. “0/10. doesn’t make my ass fatter than it is now”

- sometimes has to leave mid-class to attend his monthly photoshoot session. there’s no doubt he’d be starting to pack his things during class and his classmates would already have an idea on where he’s about to go. the close circle of his friend group promises to notify him about the homework that’s going to be due soon, and he makes sure to blend them an incredibly tasteful smoothie he heard about not too long ago in thanks.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it just had to be one of those days where you’re at your worst. vil can tell as much from your gloomy behaviour and sloppy appearance that does your figure no favours. though he lets out a disapproving click of the tongue, he places his hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that whatever you’re going through will come and go. 

- and, he hands out this one-of-a-kind opportunity to even purchase whatever apparel from the hottest brands that’s to your liking for you. who could ever ask for a better offer?

- if things are still dour, he lets you stay in his room for the night. the type of supportive friend (he hopes not for long?) to give you reassuring affirmations that whoever broke your heart doesn’t deserve you (and he does). he wants you to know that you’re ethereal just the way you are, and you shouldn’t downgrade yourself just because of somebody or something you can pass by. there’s some vinyls he keeps at a shelf at the side of his room,

if you want to play a song of your choice on the record player, he’s more than delighted to let you.

- when annual prom nights are going to take place a few days away, vil rings up his model agency to call upon another fashionista to help out with your outfit for the stirring night you can’t sit still for. converses with the right person they picked out and makes decisions set in stone, with the exact measurements that compliment your figure along with a flawless colour.

he takes the chance to do your makeup for you, and you can’t tell whether it’s because he’s taken familiarity with your visage or to just get his face closer to yours just to fluster you. you’ve taken a wild guess that it’s both.

- once prom is over and the crowd starts to clear out, vil books a cab back to his place so you two can have your well-deserved baths for as long as you want, accompanied by his endless supply of skincare products. he loves seeing you grow and blossom into a better person. he’ll make sure to do it alongside you, until he actually claims your heart.

ROOK HUNT AS

⤷ THE THEATRE KID !

- a cheerful soul who skips through the halls while humming a tune from one of the latest musicals he watched. his seemingly never-ending glee that lights the hallways up in an eye-blinding radiance is beyond people’s comprehension. rook, frankly, doesn’t mind the stares he gathers from such a spaced-out area, as long as he does his other theatre friends good in promoting the drama club.

- people mostly catch him hanging around in the auditorium, sitting with the other club members as they take out their practise on vocalisation and in depth emotion building. newcomers of the club deeply look up to him, as the most passionate member of the club where all the roles he’s taken on has made his heart soar above the clouds.

- one of the volunteers who helped in producing the script for the upcoming play the club is putting together. he advances in dramatising the scripts if they’re too flat in tone or feeling, even adding the most unnecessary dialogues of french, which the majority of the cast doesn’t even know a lick of. though, he makes a vow to them to teach it until they’re all absolutely wasted to the point where practise wouldn’t even be going anywhere.

- works hand in hand with vil behind the stage, who helps to sew up suitable costumes and applying the makeup for the cast in the makeover studio.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it’s utterly embarrassing—but he vocalises ALL his poems and thoughts about you that he recited back at his place to prepare for the public audience. by audience, I mean everyone at the cafeteria.

he sings all of the praises he’s been holding in since the day he made mere eye contact with you while standing on an occupied table, most likely taken by the misfits. he sees it as his own individual stage and seizes the opportunity in his hands. you’re dying to go hide in the nearest restroom.

- encourages you to audition for the latest play his club is planning, (secretly) wanting you to take up the role that jointly has a special form of relationship with his! he gives an overly joyful “that’s up to the judges!” when you ask him who would be playing the other role. how many times has he made you uneasy again? (you don’t want to admit that you do enjoy being with him.)

- he’ll make sure to schedule a period off to help you practise and perfect the script that was chosen for you in the empty auditorium. he eagerly savours the time he gets to hear you, your beautiful voice, out loud, like never ending music to his ears.

- aside from the dorms, he lives in a multimillion neighbourhood, and he would be ecstatic to bring you over to his place anytime. you’re slack-jawed the second you enter his home, a wealthy interior designed by specially chosen professionals just for his house. he drags you by the wrist to watch the latest musical that was released in the theater that his family chose to install.

- so—the set of people who were chosen for the roles are out? you’re glad, but rook is a leaping ball of sunshine when he takes a glance at the name list (as if he didn’t play a part in convincing the judges one way or another). he genuinely cannot wait to see you shining so brightly on stage, as he prepares a divine bouquet of roses he’s planning to give you once it’s all over to congratulate you for all the untiring effort you’ve put into this play.

SILVER AS

⤷ THE FLOATER !

- luckily for him, he wasn’t the type of student who garnered much attention after being transferred to the school. he’s received some greetings by those who actually mean it, but all in all is content with where he’s placed in for now.

- being a regular loner has him sitting outside on the unoccupied bench for him to eat his lunch. a simple but memorable ham and cheese sandwich which he remembers getting spoiled with from his caretaker since early childhood. he holds everything they do immensely close to his heart, thankful for having the utmost kindest person in the world to look after him. he’ll make sure to pay back for everything he’s indebted to when he’s older.

- with restless desires to grow familiar with the school grounds, he takes a small walk to the library and school store to send a salutation to riddle, the boy who’s in the same year as him and the shop’s very own Mr. S, a guy who’s devoted a ton of his life to this shop. silver thinks about how there’s so many sentimental people who wander this school, a little of the opposite of his stone-faced persona.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- he’ll admit, he was slightly taken aback when you fearlessly took a seat next to him on the bench when he wasn't on guard. he jumps a little, thinking there was a nearby predator who was ready to pounce on him any second. but no—it was another regular student who roams the school halls like any other. he’s never seen you before despite being the one who joined the school later—in fact, he’s never really been with a familiar face other than sebek.

- but you just smile and giggle at him when you notice his lost nature. ah, he felt a flare of life ignite in him with such unforeseen kindness being thrown at him. there’s no doubt he's going to be the slightest bit wary of you, but you take his uninterested course of actions as a yes and stay by him for the rest of the period. 

- you don’t make voice the fact that it was you who carefully placed the bundle of flowers on his head when he fell asleep on the arm rest.

- after a few months of hushed whispers and note-sharing in the middle of class, he presents the idea for the both of you to own your own personal diary to journal your daily happenings. a secret note-taker, between two hearts that flicker with a hint of trust for the other.

you both enjoy reading what the other has written for the day, and silver hopes that he’ll be able to point out the tiniest bit of a confession you could’ve possibly written down somewhere for him, as much as how insensitive he is.

- while classes are out and people start to take their leave, you and silver are to stay back to dutifully complete your classroom cleaning before the next day of lessons. who knew such a mere task could put the both of you in a difficult situation? you both reach your hand out to grab the duster to wipe the board, only for your fingers to graze each other as a spark of electricity courses through your bodies, feeling warmer than ever.

- when you’re finally done, it coincidentally starts pouring out of the blue. with the both of you standing at the school entrance, silver strips off his cardigan and uses it to shelter you, holding your figure close as the both of you run in the rain like your lives depend on it. he wishes you didn’t have to arrive at a gazebo so soon, he still wanted to see you, in his clothes for as long as he wanted.

MALLEUS DRACONIA AS

⤷ THE (NOT SO) SECRET ADMIRER !

- often gets recognised for his godly visuals, though he doesn’t pay much mind to them? yes, he makes an effort to keep himself presentable as a wielder of royal blood, but he doesn't see all the craze over his face. his aloofness only makes people swoon over him even more.

- he’s rather quiet in these busy halls. he charmingly excuses the person who accidentally bumped into him head-first, proceeding with his walk until he arrives and stops in front of one particular locker. onlookers goggle absently, thinking about what he’s doing in front of another person’s locker? his is way further away than where he is, so what..?

- malleus sighs in contempt when the bell indicating the next lesson’s beginning rings.

- class is dismissed for lunch and stays glued to his seat as he pulls out an ancient history book to pick up where he left on. his table is uncluttered, and he places the well-researched tome on his desk as he starts reading through its contents once again. nobody is aware of his hidden yearning for a specific person to come running by, catching him in their view through the window, saying the most, honey-sweet “hello!” anyone could ever dream of.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it’s not much of a secret admirer at this point, when it’s so glaringly obvious who it is. as if he was starring in a Hollywood film, glances at all directions in his way to make sure no one was present to disrupt this long-awaited momentum. once again, he stops by at your locker to open it and set down the letter, inside. one that was signed off with his initials as he positions an aromal rose just beside it.

- with the help of his relatives who are comfortable with internet devices—he’s able to search up the latest trends of deserts and lattes from the nearest coffee shop that’s located somewhere near. he’ll ask you if you’d like to journey with him into the city to a particular eatery that grasped his fancy, he assures you that he has the money, and he made sure to reserve a seat on the balcony as well.

- daily alone time with him in the music room as he gracefully plays the violin for you that only makes you swerve his lane even more. with the doors shut and the curtains closed—not fully as to block the outside light—the most euphonious tunes fill the dim lit room as pure gold spill over the strings. an individual performance he dedicated all and just for you.

- when the end of the school year is near, he readies himself to confess to you with all his body and soul. he takes it upon himself to call up a meeting with you outside of school in the evening, just when the glorious sun starts to set.

he talks his promise, rubbing your deathly cold hands in his, and voices his words of honour to make you the most fortunate person alive to be with him. who could ever ask for a better confession?

[something-about-sunflowers]

ALRIGHT, *cracks knuckles* let's get into that teaser, shall we?

Should I itemize this? I think I'm going to itemize it lmao.

So:

Starting here because this is a baseline for Stede, he's got no neckerchief here. This is likely early in the season, probably the very start.

Man's got a fuckin' ARM.

This is Ed. You can see the bare right arm in both shots.

Red neckerchief. Ed's scrap of silk? Beat to shit if it is, which, he did toss it out to sea so, it would be.

Ed's not wearing the knee brace. Or gloves for that matter. I know the knee brace being an actual mobility aid is unconfirmed canon/fanon but it does make me :(c to see him without it. Either it wasn't actually considered as a mobility aid or he's lost it like he's lost his gloves OR he's going without it because he doesn't care if it hurts.

Closer shot of the neckerchief.

I just wanted to point out all the knives stabbed into the table. Also, those look like bits of paper on the windows, did they keep some of the books to repurpose for window blocking purposes?

THERE HE IS!!!!!!!! Other people have already pointed out the makeup and his ring still on his tie, along with the whip on his hip cjizzy real. He's got a new baldric but I also think his clothes look. Darker? Than in season 1? This is a darker/heavier contrast setting but it carries into other shots of him too I think? Like they're less sun/saltwater faded or something?

Other thing to note: If I have my orientation right, this is to the right of Stede's bed nook and to the left of the library, which means this shelf is the one with the auxiliary wardrobe opening mechanism. Which I bring up because:

This little guy seems to be in the place of the mannequin. Ed kept the auxiliary wardrobe and gothed up the mannequin to justify it still being there.

SO much here. This is, I'm fairly certain, Benjamin Hornigold. This camp he's set up (along with what he's wearing) looks like it was made out of a shipwreck. Ed's barefoot and missing his jacket and gloves, and his shirt's torn up at the sleeves. Definitely where he washed up from his dip in the ocean.

Note the trees and the lighting, that comes up later. Ed shoots here and Ben moves with the shot but it doesn't look like he was actually HIT by it to my eyes.

'Wanted. |Blackbeard| Villainous Pirate. Murderer, thrice over. $400 Reward for the criminal responsible for: theft - brigandry - larceny - arson - tax evasion ➡' Presumably there are more crimes/info on the back, though we see the reverse side in the next cut and it's either blank or all in very small text, I couldn't quite tell.

The poster to the right says 'Port' something which has me wondering Port Royal but that's just the only 'Port' something I know, could def be somewhere else.

(Also, just for fun:

Here's how much abouts Ed's capture would be worth now.)

Wider pic than it needs to be but I didn't wanna cut out Olu lol. ANYWAY. Neckerchief again. Also the back of the poster, see what I mean about it either being blank or very tiny?

Babygirl. . . But also that Bride Ed figure kinda slays. Little bralette with the midriff showing, I see you Babygirl. When will he be allowed to just rest and do silly little crafts WITHOUT heartbreak looming over him?

Well. Four is not nine. So. There's that. The other five could be used or out of frame though, of course.

OH. He's back to his fingerless gloves! They might actually be different from his original ones though, they look different at the wrist to me, not quite sure though.

The BOYS!!!! Frenchie looks like he's having a GREAT time. Considering he suggested they turn the hostage into a table and complained about the Republic of Pirates being a bit gentrified I'd say this is more in line with what he's used to in piracy. I 100% buy he was going along with Stede's way because he knew it was an easy ride compared to real piracy. This wouldn't necessarily be a return to form for him but definitely something he's more used to? And he gets to be kitty :3c

And FANG!!! Look at him showing a bit more skin!! Good for him!!

Everybody say 'Thank You David Jenkins'. Right now. Look at this Mad Max shit. Fuckin' Imperator Jimenez right there. LOVE that tye added the 'beard' after the 'fuck's wrong with your face?' bit in 1x10. Full 'it looked weird on you but I slay' energy.

Jim

Izzy

Fang

Near as I can tell at least. I can't make out if Frenchie is in the shot and I'm pretty positive Ed isn't cause he stayed by the cake when they charged in.

Man, yknow I know we were all kinda clowning on it a bit at the end of 1x10 but this look really is so JARRING. Like, in the dark it's menacing but in the light? It's unhinged and that reads as more dangerous imo.

Also just for comparison's sake the pre-Ed-ified version of the bride figure. He really did full on customize that thing lol.

I DON'T THINK ANNE KISSED STEDE HERE. It feels out of character of the show to pull the 'It's fine if a woman does it to a man' kind of thing with regard to unwanted kissing. This is the frame the scene starts on in the trailer. She's leaning back from him and isn't nearly close enough to his mouth to say for certain that's where she was coming from. My money is on her leaning in to whisper something into his ear, maybe under the guise of it being an advance/intended kiss, which would also explain the annoyed look when she's interrupted. She either got ACTUALLY interrupted or it's part of the act. Stede doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable as he would be if she'd kissed him or tried to, he looks confused.

Izzy going for his sword when this guy tries to get the drop on Stede. He either is starting to care or he knows how much Ed needs him alive.

Also, this is the other potential source of Stede's neckerchief. Mr, Knife right here has a red one and Stede doesn't have it in this scene. I do think this one is a little less distressed than the one Stede has though so it could just be coincidence.

See? No neckerchief. He DOES have a sword at his hip tho! So this, I think, is after Izzy's started training him.

Also, he actually looks really good in red lol.

Baby. He's definitely missing the ring in this shot. It sits higher than the baldric is covering. I want to give him a little kissie on his ouchie and then let him have a nap, he needs that.

The pants match the coat. Also, black shirt. Stede is kinda slaying ngl.

Still missing her head :(c. Isn't that bad luck?

Maybe yall didn't hear me properly with the Jim pic. I'll repeat:

EVERYBODY SAY 'THANK YOU DAVID JENKINS'.

I can't get over how Stede's just standing there politely with his arms behind his back lmfao.

Also, Izzy's got his right leg up, he's putting his weight on his left. . . 'foot'.

I SAID EVERYBODY SAY-

I know tits and all but also. The belly. I would like to. Bite.

*ahem*

ANYWAY. On the left (our left) side of the barrel you can see the tip of his right boot so he's def got that leg off the ground. Perhaps someone is trying to relearn their footwork? Now that they've got a different balance than they're used to? And perhaps a difference in sensory input in the leg he's standing on? Possibly?

This is the same beach Ed was on when he did the fuckin' RAD takedown of the other officer but it definitely looks like different times of day. Having both in the teaser is def meant to be a red herring. He doesn't have the neckerchief in this shot either.

Bra för honom. (Is how google translate tells me you say 'Good for him' in Swedish.)

Is Jackie's hair the same here as it is in the VF pic with Ed? Or like, similar enough to be a 'later in the day after some Fun™ messing it up a bit'?

Roach!!! Fully sleeveless now, added a belt, got some flowers tied to the strings/straps of his apron. Looks like he's having fun lighting that cannon lol. Pretty sure this is the same scene as that one leaked photo of him dancing with Fang and Izzy's green screen sock. He had the flowers in that, right?

[Ran out of allowed images, please hold]

[roguelov]

OKAY BUT IMAGINE;

Becoming Morpheus's safe space or his emotional support human. Like one day you're walking through the Dreaming and you find Morpheus, who is completely overwhelmed with his feelings and is hiding from everyone. So you, who has been completely nervous and a little intimidated by him bc he's literally an Endless, go up to him and hug him without hesitation. You comfort him without asking any questions or trying to get him to talk about it. You just let him feel with no judgement.

Que to like maybe a couple weeks or months later where Morpheus just constantly seeks out your touch for comfort. Like will literally cross a whole room just to touch you no matter whoever is there or wherever you two are. He just automatically relaxs at the touch and he also like to see the light blush that appears on your face because despite how normal the touching is by now, he still makes you nervous in a butterflies in the stomach type of way.

OH MY GOD MY HEART IS MELTING AT THIS I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THIS UNTIL YOU SAID IT

You were in the library assisting Lucienne with reorganizing all the new books. The two of you were talking about anything and everything. It was calm, and enjoyable.

Until such a peace was interrupted.

Hasty footsteps cut through your melodic conversation. You both turned your head to find Morpheus marching through the library. His eyes determined and somewhat harsh as each of his steps were filled with a near righteous purpose. He seemed to be on some personal - and dare you say important - mission. As if, he was trying to locate something, or someone.

Morpheus’s eyes flickered over to you. Instantly, he beelined it directly towards you. Once within your grasp, he hugged you from behind.

Someone. He was trying to find someone, and that being you.

You tensed up, feeling your heart skip. His arms tightened around your waist as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder. He let out a deep long heavy exhale as some internal weight lifted off of him.

Lucienne bit back a smile. You glanced at her with wide eyes, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks. She knew of your small crush on the Endless, a secret she swore to keep. “I will finish later, there are other things I must do,” she said with a slight playfulness in her voice.

You wanted to call out to her, to tell her not to go, but all those words died on your lips. Once she disappeared from sight, you let out a small sigh. She will give you grief later.

“Apologies,” Morpheus murmured, still clinging to you. You tensed at the soft hypnotic timbre of his voice. “It has been a … difficult morning.”

With each passing second, the stress continued to melt off of him. How could one hug, one touch from you, calm him so immensely?

“It’s ok,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “Just took me a bit off guard.”

“Should I -“ he slowly removed his arms.

“No,” you blurted out. “It’s fine, really. You just looked so … so … angry earlier, I didn’t know what you were going to do.”

Morpheus sighed, returning his arms around you grateful for it. “Again, I am sorry if I alarmed you.”

“Please you don’t have to apologize. If I can bring you any kind of comfort then I’m happy to help.”

His arms gave you a small squeeze, almost as if in a silent thank you. “You truly are a wonder to behold,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttered at his touching words. “How so,” you asked with a giddy smile as you placed your hands over top of his.

“You can always calm my chaotic emotions.”

You turned your head slightly to peer at him from the corner of your eye. All you saw was his messy ruffled hair. You leaned your head towards his, and lovingly rest it against his. “Always happy to help,” you whispered softly into his hair.

Morpheus was thankful to have hid his face, for he knew if you looked at him you could see his unspoken love for you. A mortal who went from stranger to confidante. His dear mortal whose words and touch can assuage any turmoil within him. His infatuation that held his heart in a way he could not comprehend. His love who he hoped would stay by his side when he gathered the courage to ask.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

Thank you for everything.

“Of course, I’m always here for you,” you hummed.

[dustofthedailylife]

A Gift For You

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham, Cyno, Heizou x (gn!) Reader

Summary: They plan to give you something for White Day (Info: White Day is the counterpart to Valentine's Day where you usually get the person who got you something, something in return.)

Tags: Fluff, best friends to lovers, pining, mild cursing, very slight angst for Heizou and Cyno at first but also not really, they have good intentions haha!

A/N: This is my White Day gift for @feeblescholarmyass! I hope you like it :3

ALHAITHAM

Two knocks on the door of your office snapped you out of your work-induced haze. 

You’ve been working non-stop on this project for the Akademiya for months now and have only been allowing yourself breaks to eat or sleep. Well, to be fair, sleep was negligible too, seeing as you only got around three hours of it per night for a couple of weeks now. 

What didn’t help was that you just couldn’t get a hold of a super rare edition of a book that was practically essential for this paper. However, the physical copy was lost to the void of the library as it was never returned. And since the Akasha terminal no longer worked you also couldn’t fall back on that.

“Come in.” you answer, rubbing your eyes quickly in a futile attempt to make yourself look less tired. But deep down you knew there was nothing that could hide the deep purple eye bags you’d been carrying around like a designer accessory the past couple of weeks.

You continued to read through one of the many books on your desk as the door was opened quietly and you heard long strides approach your desk.

“Are you seriously still working on this?” a familiar voice asked reprimandingly.

You looked up into the face of Alhaitham who looked down at you in a less than amused and almost accusatory way. You genuinely didn’t have time for this now, as much as you would rather spend every free minute you had with him instead.

“Well yes, I am. Things have been going slower than I had planned and the deadline is breathing down my neck.” you sighed burying your head into the book you had been skimming through prior. “What did you want?”

“You are going to take a break.” Alhaitham remarks. This wasn’t a plea, he was leaving no room for protest. He snatched the book out of your hand and placed it on a table out of your reach.

“Hey! Alhaitham! You can’t do that. I need to finish this.”

“Yes, I can. And I will.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “When was the last time you ate?”

Well, damn. There was nothing you could hide from him, was there? He always saw right through you. Always had. One of the perks of being friends with a genius, you thought to yourself. And your silence following his question seemed to confirm his suspicions once again.

“Come on. Let’s go to the Tavern, I’ll treat you to lunch.”

You knew there was no point in resisting so you tagged along and unsurprisingly as always, he was right. Getting out of your cramped office and breathing in some fresh air was balm for your soul.

You sat down outside of the Tavern, both ordering a meal and talking about some recent research you both were interested in. Well, it was mostly just you ranting about your project and the sheer stress the lack of one certain book was causing you, but he listened to everything attentively. 

You once again came to realize what an incredibly calming effect talking to him had on you. Despite how fast your heart started drumming inside of your chest every single time without fail. You suspected that he likely would never be interested in you beyond the friendly relationship you had with him and you didn’t mean to destroy what you both had by laying your feelings for him bare. So you simply kept them locked within your heart and simply basked in his presence whenever you could.

“Oh, since we’re on the topic. I bought something the other day. This is for you.” Alhaitham suddenly pulled a book out of his bag and slid it across the table. You only had to glance at the cover briefly before you realized what it was and your eyes became as wide as saucers.

“Th-this is… the super rare copy of Ancient Nomad Language and Symbolism! How did you–?”

You were awestruck. You had no idea how he managed to get his hands on a copy. It was as if this book had vanished from the face of the earth. Aside from the fact that you could no longer buy it either or just for an extremely inflated price. How in the world did he get his hands on this?

“Let’s just say, I have my methods.” he replied with a hint of a smug smile painted across his lips.

“How much did you pay for this? I promise I’m going to pay it back–”

“No need.” he shook his head to deny your offer. “Consider it a gift.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me.” you blurt out, almost brought to tears by this act of kindness. With this, your project was saved, and after so long you could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Well, in fact, I do. Considering that you didn’t shut up about this book for the better half of a month now and everyone you spoke to knew how much you wanted it.” he stated factually.

“Hey! No need to get all snarky with me now, when I just want to express my gratitude!” you chuckle and playfully roll your eyes, prompting him to smile smugly in a barely noticeable way once more.

“It was my pleasure. Besides, today is White Day, so it was only logical to get you something.” he remarks and he continued to drink his coffee entirely unbothered as if he didn’t just insinuate the most unbelievable thing you had ever heard. He surely misunderstood something here, right?

“Uhh–” you pause. “You know what this day is for right?”

“Naturally.”

You felt like your heart was about to jump right out of your chest any second. What did he mean naturally?! Was what you deemed impossible actually true and…

“Do you… like me?” you whisper, too scared and unable to speak any louder because it felt like all air had been knocked out of your lungs.

“Looks like you’ve finally caught on as well. I thought you’d never realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I repeatedly asked you out for lunch or dinner? Or why do you think I keep returning your books for you if you’re very capable of doing so yourself? Amongst other things.” he enumerated.

“Well yes, but that’s what friends do.” you retorted confusedly.

“Then let me spell it out for you.”

He put his cup down on the table and leaned forward. He stared deeply into your eyes before ushering three words you’ve always, deep down, longed to hear from his lips.

“I love you.”

CYNO

Three Matra ringing on your door at 10 in the morning was not what you had expected to see today, but here you were nonetheless. They had arrived just as you were about to head to the Akademiya for work but effectually canceled all plans you had made.

“Good morning?” you questioningly asked, raising an eyebrow at them. “Can I help you?”

“We would like to ask you to accompany us back to the Akademiya.”, they plainly stated, signaling you to follow them.

You quickly grabbed your keys and tracked behind them with unease pooling at the pit of your stomach and a violently beating heart. 

What could the Matra possibly want from you? Did you conduct some illegal research? Did someone turn you in for plagiarism to save their own skin? Or did it have something to do with academic funds? As far as you were aware, the answers to all of these questions were no.

You didn't commit any serious academic offense to your knowledge and never planned to do so in the first place. But being called in by the Matra always had something to do with that, so naturally, you had a very bad feeling about this and couldn’t help but desperately try to find the answer to it in your head before you’d arrive.

You knew your best and long-time friend Cyno, was the General Mahamatra but even he wouldn’t show mercy if you seriously screwed something up. You knew he didn’t take academic offenses lightly - it didn’t matter who it was who committed them. He dealt out punishment equally.

The way to the office seemed like it was taking forever and many people along the way to the Akademiya threw you pitiful glances and were whispering as you were escorted by the Matra.

Once you arrived at your destination you were led into the General Mahamatra’s office. The Matra who had escorted you were bowing their head down once before they left you and Cyno, who was standing behind his desk, alone.

“There you are!” he stated, sounding surprisingly cheerful. Well, at least compared to usual anyway. He certainly didn’t seem sinister or as if he was out for your head.

He walked around his desk and came to a halt just in front of you. You slightly twitched as he put one hand on your shoulder and looked right into your eyes. This entire situation was odd, to say the least.

What didn’t help was that the warmth that radiated off his hand on your shoulder was entirely distracting to you right now and made the blood rush to your cheeks and your heart skitter in your chest.

“U-uhhh…” you stammered, unsure what to say or do.

“Do you still remember the special animated Genius Invokation card of Tighnari you got me last month?”

What? Was something wrong with it?

“Uhm… yes, of course, I do.” you reply, uncertain as to where this was leading.

He nodded as his lips curved into a small smile. “Follow me.”

You trailed behind him out of the Akademiya and along the streets towards the outskirts of Sumeru city. You remained silent the entire way, intimidated and unsure about his intentions. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was taking you and whether he was intending to exercise his judgment where no one was able to bear witness to it.

He came to a halt next to a small, run-down house at the border of the city and leaned against the fence there, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing below himself. You cautiously came to a halt as well, making sure you maintained some distance from him.

“So… w-what did I do?” you carefully inquired.

“Well,” Cyno cleared his throat as if he was struggling to find the right words. He stepped a little closer to you once again, taking your slightly trembling hands in his. “You stole something.”

“What? I did n–”

“You stole my heart.” he interrupted both your words and ability to form clear thoughts.

You parted your lips with the intention to say something but every word seemed to have died in your throat. You knew he was one to often speak cryptically so you were uncertain about the true meaning behind his words.

“What?”

He took a deep breath as if he was preparing to say something impacting before pointing toward the fence he had been leaning on with a dead-serious face.

“I fence-y you!”

At this point, you couldn’t help but chuckle. The hilarity of this entire situation was unbelievable. Not only did he have you worried sick he also chose to confess to you after years of pining with some stupid pun.

“Did you seriously lead me here just because there is a fence here?”

“Curses. I feared you would not understand… see fence-y sounds like fancy which means I–”

You quickly pulled him in by his neck and pressed your lips softly against his, successfully stopping him from explaining his joke. The feeling of his lips on yours was something you had dreamed of for so long. When he slung his arms around your waist the endorphins rushing through your bloodstream made your head swim and you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. You wondered if he felt the same.

“That was supposed to be my gift to you,” he remarked with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours. “but you beat me to it.”

You playfully punched his chest with a chuckle. “Idiot. You have no idea how much you had me scared to death with this entire scheme of yours. I fence-y you, too”

“Allow me to make it up to you again. Do you like raisins?”

You questioningly raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to this time.

“No? How about a date, then?”

Someone seriously needed to remind you again why you fell for this guy.

HEIZOU

You were walking through the streets of Hanamizaka to run some errands when you bumped into your long-time friend aka. the best detective in town. Or maybe even in the entirety of Inazuma.

“Would you look who it is!” you perceived the familiar voice coming from your right.

You turned your head only to spot the familiar tuft of auburn locks and the pair of mischievous green eyes that always made their owner look like he was up to no good.

“Heizou!” you cheered, hugging him tightly.

“It’s a good thing I run into you actually. I’m onto something and you’re just the person who could help me out.” he remarked.

“Oh, is that so?” you asked stemming your hands on your hips proudly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Indeed.”

“So, what do you need from me, Mr. Detective?” you tease.

“Alright. So, as you may or may not know it’s White Day. I’m looking for a present for someone since I’m going on a date, and I want to get something for them.” he explained. 

You had to try your hardest to not drop your smile. It almost faltered just now, but you couldn’t let your disappointment show. He didn’t know you had feelings for him, so to him, you were still nothing more than his best friend. Obviously, he would come to you with something like this. It’s also on you for not telling him about your feelings for him, too.

As much as your heart ached while thinking about it, you simply had to try to be a supportive friend in this situation. Even if it would most likely prove to be a challenge. Both for your heart and also to hide your dislike about this from him, since he was generally very perceptive. It was in the job description after all and he was one of the best in his field.

“So what do you say?” he interrupted your train of thought. “Will you help me?”

“Sure!” you agree, faking a smile. 

You followed him through the streets of Inazuma City walking past several restaurants and storefronts continually catching yourself getting lost in your own thoughts while he was talking. 

Your mind was way too occupied with reproaching yourself for not opening up about your feelings. Would you still be able to look him in the eyes when you soon saw him with someone else by his side? Or would you be strong enough to still be as close to him as you are now, despite your aching heart? These were questions the future you would have to eventually find answers to, but for now, you decided you should focus on helping him.

“Which restaurant would be a good option for a dinner date?” he pondered tapping his chin with his index finger.

“Well, I do like Uyuu Restaurant just across the bridge from here. But then again, it tends to be rather crowded on holidays. So maybe Kiminami Restaurant instead? And quite honestly, the food is also better there in my opinion.” you advised.

“I see. Great!” Heizou cheered writing some things down in his notebook.

“So…” he began again after he was done taking notes. “Now for the present. I have no clue what to get them, yet.”

“Well, what a lousy detective you are if you can’t even sneakily ask them about what they would want.” you teased.

He raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, acting playfully offended at your remark.

“Hey now! No need to get personal! Besides, that would only be the last resort! Anyway, hypothetically speaking. Imagine I’d get you something for White Day. What present would you want?”

For Archon’s sake, did he really have to have you imagine that? Getting a present from him on White Day would be a dream come true so he could practically get you anything and you would be head over heels for him all over again. But naturally, you couldn’t just outright say that.

“I don’t think this should be about what I would want. You should consider what they could want instead.”

“Hmm. I see your point. I could just ask them directly, I suppose?” he proposed tapping his chin as if deep in thought.

“No numbnuts! That’s not something you just ask them. It’s supposed to be a surprise, you know?”

“But then it may be even more important if you could give me an idea knowing what you would want. To gather some… inspiration, basically. I have to consider all possibilities after all.” he lightly bumped his finger on your forehead and smirked slyly. “So what would you want… jewelry? books? something to decorate your home with perhaps? Or maybe–”

“I fear I may not be of much help. I genuinely wouldn’t know what I would want.” you quickly interrupted.

Aside from wishing to be the object of affection of the man in front of you. But it was probably better if you buried that hope alongside your feelings for him once and for all.

What you were dying to say to him for a long time, had died in your throat the moment he told you he was going on a date. And as much as you honestly wanted to help him with this, you couldn’t recommend him something in good faith when it made your heart painfully throb the way it did right now.

“Hmmm.” he pondered looking at the ground with crossed arms. “That’s a shame, I’d immediately know what I’d want.”

“Oh? And what would that be, Detective?” you replied cheekily, quickly trying to distract yourself from the aching feeling in your chest.

“You.”

“What?” you falter.

“Do you happen to be free later?”

“Y-you–?”, you stammered.

“I set you up? Hmm, I suppose you could say I did. Sorry about that, but I had to find something out first.” he hummed, leaning in a little closer with a smug smile before whispering in your ear. “And I’m pretty sure I connected all the dots by now, did I not, sweetheart?”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[hyukaboosgf]

can i req lee suho x fem!reader plspls

just a fic where he helps reader study (shes good at acedemics tapi yeah yk the feeling of bring dtupid allat)

and bro comforts her when she cries allat

this request is so cuteeewkwnaj

Heart to Heart!

Lee suho x fem!reader

playing: Heart to Heart by Mac DeMarco

summary: You were sitting alone at a table in a library, books and notes scattered all over the table. Lee suho who was in the library to return a book, saw your exhausted figure.

Warnings! : kind of angsty (not sure) but fluffy ending !

“move it kid!” the man behind Suho whispered yelled at him. “oh sorry” he responded in a small voice eyes still trained on you.

When Lee suho came into the library with the intention to return a book he borrowed, his eyes somewhat found your figure in the corner of the library. But this time you looked different..

And by different he meant you looked tired.

After he returned the book, he decided to walk up to you. When he came close, your head was still on the table with your arm surrounding it. His initial thought was that you were probably asleep. But unbeknownst to him, you were actually doing quite the opposite.

You weren’t just alone though, you were alone at a library at 8 pm. you should be at home right now unless you had a tutor to meet or atleast a friend to study with you!

After staring at your seemingly down figure for a short second, he decided to come up to you “hey y/n?” he said in a small voice. but you weren’t answering.

He tapped your shoulder with two fingers and that’s when you realised there was someone. Startled, you replied “Oh Suho!” shocked to see him on this hour at the library. But he had always been unpredictable.

“are you ok? why are you sleeping in the library?” he asked you in a polite tone. “Oh me? i was just studying for the mid term exam” you replied to him in a slow voice.

He wasn’t sure if it was his eyes or his heart telling him that you looked malnourished, but he sure knew you definitely needed a little help with studying, considering you looked a bit tired.

“do you need help?” he offered. You were shocked honestly, you never thought Suho who you barely even know, would want to study with you. “are you sure? don’t you need to go home at this hour?”

You didn’t really mind if he studied with you, it’s just that you didn’t want him to think you were stupid. That’s the last thing you’d want.

You were an Academic Achiever, but lately things has been a bit hard for you . Hence, why you think your not doing good like you used to. And everything has been going so wrong lately you just don’t have enough time to think about yourself today.

“No i’ll be fine, I haven’t studied this too and since your here might as well!” He lied, he actually already did study this, he just wanted to spend some time with you. And in a small voice you thanked him.

A few minutes had went by with him teaching you a few things here and there whenever you looked at your notes confused. To be honest, you were glad he was there.

“do you get it?” he asked as he turns to you for confirmation, but when he faced you fully he saw tears streaming down your eyes. Soft sniffles came out from your stuffy nose.

“A-are you ok??” he was worried and confused on why you cried, was it because of him? did he do something wrong? “is it me? did I do something?” Truth is it was never because of him.

You shook your head, a small “no” came from your lips. He was relieved but still confused on why you cried and before he could ask you, you answered his unspoken question.

“It’s just that..” you started “It’s just that i feel so stupid lately. It’s like that feeling when your failing the only thing your good at. Everyone around me is so much better than me i’m just scared that at some point i’ll be the idiot in the corner just taking up space.”

As he heard you out he also understood the way you were feeling. He didn’t know what to do, he had never felt this way before. But one thing he did know was that you needed him. You needed him to listen and hear you out. And so he did.

“I’m sorry i know i’m ranting but i just can’t hold it in any longer.” was the last thing you said before you laid down your head on the table with your arms surrounding it.

After you had calmed down a bit, Suho got up and went behind your chair to hug you. He didn’t know what to say, but the least he could do was hug you so you know he’ll always be there for you no matter what.

No words was exchanged for a moment, it was just you and him holding on to each other. It was sweet, you liked this.

But not anything lasts for long so at some point you let go of each other. “thank you Suho.” You thanked him. And when he looked at you your eyes were puffy but your lips was in a beautiful small smile he had always admired from afar.

And as time flew by it was already 9 pm so you had to be home or your parents will get worried. As you and Suho helped each other clean the table, he asked you “y/n, do you want to maybe study again tomorrow? since it’ll be Saturday we should go to the cafe nearby”

You couldn’t decline the handsome man in front of you, so of course you said yes to his request!

a/n : hope you enjoy this ff anon!! >.<

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Five

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, implied SA, Tamlin and Amarantha are mentioned, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s off on a mission, so you train with Cassian. Upon returning, the Spymaster doesn’t like seeing you with his brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four

The next morning, you were up early but no one was there for breakfast with you. And instead of Azriel, Cassian was in the training ring. “Oh… is Azriel not here today?” You asked.

“He’s got some spying to do, so I’ll keep up with your training.” He said.

Of course Azriel wouldn’t want to keep training you along with his spying. He had so many more important things to do than babysit an amateur Shadowsinger. And it was very apparent from the training session yesterday that you didn’t know nearly as much as him.

“You ready? Or do you need to stare off into the distance for a little longer?” Cassian said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m ready, Commander.” You teased, getting in the position he started with the warm ups.

Cassian was more brutal than Azriel was, enough so that you were thinking Azriel was going easy on you. The prick. Cass made you sit in squats for longer, balance with your wings stretched out or tucked in more. It was all you could do by the end of it to not fall down the stairs to the House.

“Az said to give you these.” Cassian said and handed you a basket, your muscles groaning at the extra weight. “Said something about an owing you a massage when he got back.”

Your eyes widened and face flushed before you heard Cassian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re almost as bad as him.” He said and laughed. “For spies, you sure don’t hold back when you get embarrassed.” Cass said and winked at you before going to the dining room.

You set the basket in your room, opting to take a bath first before you went to the dining room to dig into the roast that was waiting for you. Then, you went to the library to start on your research into the Cauldron.

You never saw Gwyn. Though Rhys told you that the new priestesses normally took a while to adjust before being out of their dorms. What happened to her just yesterday made your stomach turn… and you couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been for her to wake up today in a new place. You’d have to ask Clotho how she was doing when you got the chance.

You didn’t learn anything new about the Cauldron, but you brought more books up to the personal library to read more.

You still wondered how Feyre was doing with Tamlin. You remember when Rhys told you the story of what Tamlin’s family did to Rhys’s mother and sister. And how Tamlin himself had killed Rhys’s father. Hearing about the rage that Tamlin held that day… you’d hope it had changed. You’d hoped that Feyre was happy with him, and that he would treat her well. Still, the thought of Feyre with him was unsettling to you. You couldn’t figure it out, and your shadows seemed to be just as disturbed by it whenever it came to your mind.

As you read into the night, waiting to see if you heard Azriel come back, you couldn’t help as your mind wander to how lucky you were that you ended up here after Amarantha died. How you found friends that seemed to care about you, and a High Lord that didn’t just want to use you for his own bidding, but wanted you around because he trusted you. You could get used to calling Velaris, in all its beauty, your home. And these new friends your family.

Azriel didn’t come back to the House of Wind for two weeks. Cassian had taken up your training, and you were already learning how to handle a sword (with the wooden practice ones) when Azriel watched you both from the steps.

He had been searching for the other parts of the Cauldron, ordering his spies to find out anything they could about what Hybern planned to do with it. And he only figured out that Hybern had Jurian’s eye and finger bone. Someone had snuck it off of Amarantha’s body before Tamlin killed her. He still couldn’t find out how, or who.

Seeing you work with Cassian strained something in him. A desire to be around you, or the jealousy that Cass was training you and he wasn’t. Azriel couldn’t tell what it was. Either way, he was almost proud to see you doing so well. What took most young Illyrian’s years to master, you had seem to do it in two weeks. All while taking flying lessons with Cassian as well. Cass told him that you were doing great with all of it. Better than any male he’s trained, actually. And you took it in stride too. Doing everything that Cassian threw at you. He even loaded a pack on your chest two days ago and had you fly up and down the mountain for two hours. You were almost ready to throw the pack at him by the end of it. But you knew it was to build up your strength. If you were going to be carrying Illyrian blades and a bow, you would need it.

Azriel knew you could do good. From the moment you agreed to train, he knew you had the motivation in you to do it. Whether it be from hate of what your family did to you, or from dedication to not let it happen again, he knew you would do it. He wanted to be the one to train you. He wanted to see that dedication every day. He hadn't seen an Illyrian learn so fast in a long time, and he knew it was a testament to an underlying power that brewed within you. That his shadows whispered to him about.

And yet, he took the first mission Rhys offered. There was something about you that pulled his attention every time you were in the room. And he couldn’t place it. His shadows wouldn’t tell him anything. And your few shadows that danced around his ankles up to his hands and neck whenever he was close to you drove him crazy. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you but also didn’t want to get too close. He couldn’t handle getting close and you pushing him away. Or going for another male like Rhys or Cass. Like Mor had done when she chose Cassian over him. And then never acknowledged him more than a close friend. Family. Nothing like he wanted. He may have given up on her a long time ago, but sometimes it still stung.

So he took the mission to keep his distance. No matter the tug he felt when he was around you. He fought it. And kept his thoughts and emotions about you to himself.

“Azriel!” He heard your voice say, followed by a yelp when Cassian hit your stomach with the butt of the sword.

“Really, Cass?” You growled and nudged him away before jogging over to Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been?” You asked, catching your breath.

“We’re not done!” Cassian yelled at you, but you simply stared at Azriel, waiting for an answer.

All Azriel could do was trail his eyes up the leathers you were wearing. The way they clung to your curves. The way they were already filled out much more than they were that first training day. Your hair was in a braid, but little wisps if it were out, clinging to your forehead with sweat.

“Azriel?” You asked again, not shifting under his stare like you had before. Training like this with Cassian had made you much more confident. Like you were before Amarantha came and tore your life apart. You still didn’t want to admit how much those 50 years effected you. Even if they were still recent. You wanted to put them in the past and not think about them any more that you were required. And luckily, no one had asked you much after the first day of telling them your story.

Cassian bounded over, patted Azriel on the shoulder in a way of greeting, and then picked you up over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” You yelled and clenched your fists. “Put me down,” you ground out.

“No chance, you are still training. And no pretty boy is going to distract you. Got it?” He asked and you grumbled. “Got it?” He asked again.

“Yes! Cauldron… Now put me down before I start clawing your wings.” You said firmly. He set you down back in the middle of the training ring and handed you the sword you discarded.

“What’s the number one rule I taught you about your weapon?” He asked.

“The pointy end goes away from you?” You remarked, earning a swipe of his own sword, which you blocked. “Don’t drop it in the middle of a fight without a purpose.” You said and knocked his sword back.

Azriel watched as you bantered with Cassian almost as seamlessly as you fought. At one point, you had Cassian so speechless and stunned that you were able to knock his sword from his hand. It was at that point that Cassian knocked you from your feet, your sword clattering much farther away from you than his. Cass always did want to be the one to win the battle.

It was everything Azriel could do to not go and help you out. Or coach you on how to get out from under him. Especially since Cassian was much larger than you. Not to mention better trained.

He must have been feeling generous, or you got the drop on him (probably the former) because you were able to use his weight against him and flip the two of you over so you were on top. Straddling his hips, your hands mere inches from the tips of his wings. Panting.

“Rhys wants us in the dining room for lunch.” Azriel called out, knowing that Rhys would wait. And if he really wanted you all to meet, he could speak mind-to-mind easily. But Azriel couldn’t stand to see you in that position with Cassian. And he couldn’t stop himself for imagining him under you instead. He quickly turned on his heel and vanished with his shadows back to his room.

“Just when it was getting fun.” You joked as you stood up and held out a hand for Cassian, who let out a booming laugh.

“Keep saying things like that and Az might slice me to bloody ribbons.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem too interested in me.” You said as you grabbed a glass of water and downed it. “And if he is, he sure has a weird way of showing it. He ignored me the whole first month, trained me one day, and then disappeared on a two week mission. And he’s still ignoring me.” You muttered and downed another glass of water.

“Hmm… let’s show him what he’s missing, then,” Cass said and slung an arm around your shoulder, avoiding your wings. Your shadows curled away slightly from his touch. Not in a bad way, but in a way that didn’t happen with Azriel. They always curled around him. Even if he wasn’t touching you, but in the same room. You always tacked it up to him being a Shadowsinger himself, and maybe it was comforting for your shadows to have someone else to cling to. You still barely knew how the things worked. Even after having them around for a hundred years.

You knew how to hide in them, how to listen and talk to them, how to winnow with them. But not much else. It was still a hassle most of the time when you wanted to control them. So if a few of your shadows wanted a more experienced singer to cling to, you were more than willing to let them. For a little while. You still liked your shadows. If you ever had to go without them, you wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t have the comforting feel of them whirling your ankles and wings. Throughout your hair.

“Come out with us tonight.” Cassian said once you made it down the stairs.

You looked up at his towering form and rose your eyebrows. “Where?” You asked. Even the first month of you here, you didn’t go out with them. You didn’t go into the city much either, barely even visited the town home. You didn’t want to impose on it just yet. And it was too many people who would be watching your every move. Like they did when you worked for her. So you stayed in the House. And you liked it. Plus, you started to see Gywn around the library, not speaking to anyone, but at least she was out of her dorm.

“To Rita’s. I know Mor would love it. She’s been complaining that you didn’t come last week.” He said and you smiled a bit. You quite liked the female. She was bright and full of energy. And she didn’t take shit from the boys. And barely took it from Amren, who still scared you enough to not meet her eye.

“I don’t have much to wear.” You said, Cassian cringing as you both heard a yelp from down the stairs to the dining room.

“Did I hear that we’re going shopping?” Mor said and bounded over to the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on her heels.

“I didn’t say that.” You teased as you stepped down beside her.

“Oh, please? I’ll help you pick out the perfect outfit.” She said and nudged you. You winced a bit, still sore from the training. Your braid was still a mess. But you didn’t care, you were starving and just wanted to eat. Even if you looked ridiculous.

As if reading your thoughts, your shadows swirled around your head, either covering or smoothing your hair, you couldn’t tell. Either way, you silently thanked them.

“Hmm.. fine. But I would prefer to go when it’s not too crowded…” you said and she gave you a knowing look. As if she too knew what it was like to want to hide away. You weren’t sure how she would ever feel like that. You figured she got more energy from being around people, new people, than anyone else. Where as for you… well you learned to like your solitude. Probably from the years you spent locked in your cabin while your family went to train. And then the years following that was spent in a village with no more than 50 inhabitants.

“So you’ll come out with us tonight?” Cassian asked as you entered the dining room with them.

Shrugging again, you answered, “Sure. Though if people start asking me to do party tricks with my shadows, I’m leaving.” You said and rolled your shoulders back, tucking in your wings.

“Trust us, they won’t. Not when Az is the only Shadowsinger they knew and he once stabbed someone for looking at him the wrong way.” Mor joked and you furrowed your eyebrows. Even though Azriel was a little cold to you, you could tell he was kind. Especially with the way this family acted with him.

“He was 38 and we were recovering from the war, remember?” Rhys added from his spot at the table. “And that was in Hewn. Everyone in Hewn would be stabbed if they looked at Az the way that male did.” He mentioned and then leaned back. He didn’t have his wings out today, so you figured this was a business lunch more than a formal one. They had all mainly been away, or you’d been I’m your room burying your nose in the books on the Cauldron. Or they had been meeting in the town home. Definitely not around you.

Soon you were all settled, Azriel appearing before the meal was served and sitting next to Rhys and Amren. Cassian was on your right, and Mor on your left. That left the other three across from you. It felt like someone was missing from the table, but as you counted around, you knew that was everyone.

After you had all ate a couple bites (Amren pushing her food around like always), Rhys looked up, setting his utensils down. “Cassian, I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys said. “See how the army is coming along. And if the females are being trained properly.” He said, then looked at you. “And I would prefer if you went along.” He said.

“Just with Cassian? Don’t you need to introduce me as emissary?” You asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Cass is the commander of my armies. If he says they’re to listen to you, they will.” Rhys said and you rose your eyebrows. You knew Illyrians. And you knew that wasn’t true. You also knew that Rhys knew it too. But you weren’t going to push, so you nodded.

“How long do you want me there?” Cassian asked.

“Two weeks, and then you can come back in time for the Solstice.” He said. “We’ll spend it in the townhome.”

“You think Devlon is ready for another Shadowsinger?” Azriel piped in.

“The question is, do you think Devlon is ready for the first female Shadowsinger?” Cassian asked.

You hummed. “I think you all need to be asking if Devlon is ready for me. I’m not just a Shadowsinger, you know.” You said, crossing your arms. “And I think the answer is no. Devlon used to be a friend of my father’s. He very might well faint when he recognizes me to be the daughter of Rechard Vash.” You stated and smirked.

“I like how you think, girl.” Amren said and leaned back in her chair, her arm draped over the arm of it. “I say Devlon has whatever is coming to him from her,” she said as she looked at Rhys.

He only chuckled as he went back to eating. “Was that it?” You asked and leaned forward. “Or should I leave so you can discuss what Azriel learned on that mission?” You asked.

None of them stiffened at your tone, or the implication that they didn’t trust you.

“I merely wanted to finish my food,” Rhys said with an easy smile. “But if you’re eager to learn about what the Spymaster learned, go ahead Az.” He said and took another bite of the roast.

“I didn’t learn anything useful,” Azriel said. “Well, other than that there are two pieces of the Cauldron missing and I still have no clue where the third one is. Though, it’s probably in a temple.” He said. “Hopefully here. If it’s in another Court… that’ll be harder to detect.” He finished.

“I never thought you’d be one to be down on yourself,” you said, taking a bite of vegetables. “Sounds like you learned quite a lot.”

Once again, he ignored you and looked at Rhys. “Any chance I can go back to Sangravagh and examine it again?” He asked and Rhys waved his hand. “Go where you need to, but I still have one more thing to ask of you when we’re done with lunch.” He said.

As much as you wanted to slump into your chair, you stayed still as you ate. You didn’t know what you did wrong to have Azriel act so indifferent towards you. Of all the Inner Circle, you thought you would bond with him the most. Being a Shadowsinger… it wasn’t easy. It was rare and the looks that you got. The burdens that you had to carry. You figured only he would understand. But he didn’t even try to speak to you.

And it continued into the night, after you went shopping with Mor. She even had Rhys’s in-house tailor fix all the clothing so your wings would fit seamlessly around them. All in time to go to Rita’s.

A/N: This is a fun little chapter with some of Az’s pov - a little longer than the rest. When the IC + our reader goes to Rita's in the next chapter... I think you'll enjoy it!!

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[wheels-of-despair]

Boys Are Idiots Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman gets partnered up with Steve Harrington for a science project. Which means she has to TALK to him? And be NEAR him? Eddie Munson is NOT a fan. Contains: Jealous Eddie, Oblivious Steve, Annoyed Evil Woman, Terrified Hellfire. Words: 1.6k

"Alright, see ya," you say with an awkward smile, going the opposite direction of your new project partner outside the classroom door.

You head for your locker, spin the dial, and pop it open. A Polaroid of you and Eddie falls out. You scramble to pick it up off the floor before someone can step on it and ruin his pretty face. When you stand upright, the boy himself is in front of you… but he's not looking as happy as he is in the picture you've just rescued.

"Why were you talking to Steve Harrington?"

"And hello to you too, Edward," you say brightly. "Hold this." You hand him the picture and start searching your backpack for tape. "We're doing a science project together."

"Why?"

"Because he's smart and popular and I thought maybe some of his extreme coolness would rub off on me," you deadpan.

You take the picture from Eddie and tape it back where it belongs, on the inside of your locker door, and glance at him. He is not happy.

"Or because we got randomly paired up, take your pick."

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against the wall of lockers as you swap out books for your next class. You're not sure why this bothers him so much, but you see a storm brewing on his face.

"We're just partners in a high school science class, we're not engaged, calm down."

He rolls his eyes, and you slam the door.

"K, gotta go, see you at lunch," you say quickly while leaning over for a peck. Your lips meet his, and the issue is forgotten.

Until the next morning, in the parking lot where you always loiter by Eddie's van until the bell, when Steve Harrington gives you a little wave on his way inside. You return it - just a single wave and a half-hearted smile to your classmate and his girlfriend - and Eddie turns to see who you're waving at. His body tenses.

"Relax," you grumble, giving him a playful shove. It catches him off-guard, and he bounces against the side of his van before stabilizing himself.

"He's an asshole," he says simply.

"He's been nothing but nice to me," you counter.

"He's just another rich prick who thinks he's hot shit because he gets to drive Daddy's BMW around town."

"I'm sorry it's not as cool as your trash-filled van," you tease. Eddie's face turns red. That may not have been as funny as you intended. You wrap your arms around his waist and look up mischievously, in hopes of de-escalating your insult. "But I bet him and Wheeler couldn't achieve what we did in here last weekend, in that puny little thing."

Eddie smirks at the memory. Saved by the--

The bell rings. You peck Eddie's cheek and drag him into the building, and that's that.

Until you're spotted talking to Steve on your way out of science class a few hours later. Eddie is waiting at your locker when you get there, glowering in Steve's direction.

You roll your eyes and spin the combination dial on your locker. This is getting old.

"Can you not be a dick, please?"

"How am I being a dick?"

"You know exactly how you're being a dick." You trade out your books with a little more force than necessary. "Now quit. It's not cute."

"It's not cute that Harrington's trying to make a move on somebody that doesn't belong to him."

You turn to him with raised eyebrows and bubbling rage.

"Oh, I belong to you now? Am I your property? Do you have papers confirming your alleged ownership?"

Eddie doesn't respond, so you slam your locker door and head to your next class without looking back.

He's still tense at lunch, but he didn't hide out in the woods to avoid you, so he must not be too upset.

Until you have to break it to him that you and Steve need to hit the library this evening.

"Wanna stop by Family Video on the way home?" Eddie asks, sliding his bag of pretzels toward you. A peace offering.

"Uh… can't today," you smile apologetically as you take a pretzel. "I have to go to the public library."

"Okay," he crunches… suspiciously. "Want me to drive you?"

The boys start to protest, because this change will surely impact their afternoon plans, but Eddie silences them with a wave of his hand and awaits your answer.

"Uh…" you nibble a side off the pretzel. "I'm going with Steve, actually."

His face hardens.

"Don't start," you ask of him. "It's just a stupid science project. I would much rather be watching movies with you, than scouring encyclopedias and cutting construction paper with him."

"I bet that's not what he wants," Eddie scoffs.

"Seriously?" you ask. Are you really doing this? Eddie fixes you with his best glare, and you instinctively match it. You're doing this. "He's with Nancy. I'm with you. And up until very recently, I was quite happy with that arrangement."

Eddie seethes. You finally break eye contact and turn back to your lunch, although you've lost your appetite. Is this about Steve making a move, or Eddie not trusting you?

"What are you even doing with him in the public library that can't be done here?" The way he says it makes you clench your fists.

"You caught me, Eddie. We're actually going to his house to test the effectiveness of various condom brands. Wanna come watch?"

A hush falls over the Hellfire table. You and Eddie glare at each other. And then, in the blink of an eye, he's out of his chair and storming through the cafeteria doors. You close your eyes and breathe out heavily, trying to calm yourself. When you open them again, the whole table is staring at you.

"Shut up," you snap at no one in particular, and begin cramming your - and Eddie's - stuff into your respective backpacks. He'd left everything behind; his lunchbox, his backpack, his jacket.

Loaded down with an overfilled backpack on each shoulder, you head toward the door without another word. You could've sworn you heard somebody mumble "I hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight" behind your back, but you don't have time to murder anyone today, so you decide to let it slide. For now.

You have a list of places you plan on looking for him, but he's at your first stop: the van, in its usual spot in the back parking lot. He's perched on the bumper, facing the road; cheeks red, arms crossed, glaring at the ground. You reach into the pocket of the jacket that he'd left behind.

"Forget something?" you tease, jingling his keys to get his attention.

"Fuck you," Eddie grumbles without even looking up.

You're not mad. You don't have a snarky response. You just want things to be okay. You wish you hadn't teased him about Steve Harrington. You wish you'd never been partnered up with him. You wish you didn't even know his stupid rich-boy name.

"I'm sorry."

He glances at you, then drops his gaze back to the ground.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," you clarify. You let the backpacks slide onto the pavement. "Not a fan of this jealousy thing, Eddie."

You put his keys back in his jacket pocket and hold it out to him, but he doesn't take it. You take a cautious step closer, drape it over his shoulders, and retreat.

"You've gotta stop acting like I'm gonna leave you for the first jock that learns my name."

"Everybody else would," he mumbles at the ground.

"Everybody else is a cunt."

He smirks a tiny smirk, and finally looks up at you.

"Really, though," you assure him as you take a step closer. "You've got nothing to worry about. With him, or with anybody." You take another step toward him, and he parts his legs so you can stand between them. You close the distance. You're so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body. You want desperately to wrap your arms around him, but you hold back. Not yet. "Why would I want a Steve Harrington when I've got an Eddie Munson?" You cup his face with your hands, and his eyes close.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You have nothing to worry about. Say it with me." You squish his cheeks together.

"I've got nothing to worry about," he mumbles with you, through his squished cheeks.

"Good boy," you praise, leaning down to peck his still-puckered lips. When you stand, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him close. He buries his face in your chest, but doesn't hug you back.

"You still mad?" you ask, stroking his hair. One day, you'd probably laugh about the condom comment. Today was not that day.

"Not at my girls," he mumbles into your breasts.

"What about the rest of me?"

He shrugs.

You reach for his hands and bring one to rest on each of your back pockets. "How 'bout now?"

"Hmmm…" he hums into your chest, thinking about it. He gives your ass a squeeze, then he lifts his hands and smacks you on both sides. "Yes."

"What can I do to make it up to you?" you smile, knowing he's almost over it.

"Tell me you want me," he mumbles.

"Of course I want you, you idiot."

He looks up at you and bats those beautiful eyelashes. "Only me?"

"Only you." You kiss the top of his head, then move to sit on the bumper beside him. "I don't want any of those idiots. You're my idiot, and I'm keeping you."

"What if you find someone who's not an idiot?" he asks quietly.

"Impossible," you grin. "All boys are idiots."

[plutolovesyou]

going to the library with girlfriend ellie.

☆: another random, self indulgent af blurb. i love libraries, and ellie, and drabbles, and writing fluffy things for y'all. this one's definitely not my best work, but i really wanted to put a little something out anyway. there's something so healing about writing fluff.

trek, trek, you hear behind you, as you race through the endless sea of tall shelves, the musty scent of old paper filling your nose. like a machine you scan the aisles, picking up book after book excitedly. you open it, read and decide, yes, this one too! the peace of libraries has always brought you comfort, and hallucinating whilst staring at a dead tree reading has always been your favorite activity. but you’ve run out of things to read which warranted yet another trip to the greatest place on earth. unfortunately for her, you've tasked ellie to be the carrier of all the novels.

"baaaaabe, do you really need this many??" she whines and pouts, as she trails behind you and struggles to keep up.

you turn back to look at her, almost stumbling with a huge stack in her arms which is almost taller than her, it's honestly unbelievable how she hasn't toppled over yet. she frowns at you, earning a chuckle on your part. she's so cute.

"just a little more! you agreed to come with me, els, you knew what you were signing up for. and yes i do need that many, books are my life. books and you, of course."

"but my arms are gonna fall off..." she steadies herself and huffs. "fine, but let's sit down in a few minutes, 'kay?"

grinning widely and and nodding, you take a few of the books from the top to ease the weight, then you skip off happily once more to peruse the shelves, searching for something to grasp your attention, and vaguely convinced you heard ellie tsk-ing behind you. after a bit she goes to sit down on the armchairs in a little corner with a cozy lamp, slumps into the cushions with a grunt, and is relieved she can finally set down the stack she was carrying. you're too absorbed in walking around to notice, but ellie is watching you with a smile from her seat, wondering how in the world she got lucky to have such a curious minded, smart, and loving girlfriend. you meant the world to her. as you scampered around, collecting more and more books, you catch her eye and wave, and her heart just about jumps out of her chest then and there.

when returning to your tired girlfriend, she's keeping herself occupied by checking out the synopses on all the books, with genuine interest.

"i'm back!" you say in a cheery tone, cheeks warming as you add, "may have gone a bit overboard this time, sorry for making you carry it all."

"hey! no, no, i love doing this with you. honest." she smiles warmly back at you, taking half the stack you're carrying in her arms, dividing the entire haul between the two of you. the two of you begin to walk to the desk to check out, until her emerald eyes light up and she remembers, "do they carry comics here?"

"uh, i think so.."

"BE RIGHT BACK-"

she suddenly dashes off with no warning, leaving you with the sighing librarian as she has to take a look to see what they've got.

this little outing turned out better than you had expected. next stop, a hole in the wall cafe for some lunch.

☆: not sure how i feel about this one honestly, but wanted to write a little something. hope y'all still like it! oh also, does the tiny text bother y'all? lemme know and i'll use the regular one, this one's aesthetically pleasing to me, but could be annoying. ellie n her comics own my heart.

[hitomisuzuya]

scaramouche as a bully.. y/n snapping at him.. full nelson in a empty classroom.. doors unlocked..

Boom 💥

Bully! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Some degradation because it's Bully Scara.

I have never written this position before😳 I am def. going be blushing the whole time I write this. If the description sounds jank, it's because I was flustered typing it😭

Scaramouche was a menace. He had a unique way of showing that he liked you. By relentlessly picking on you. He snapped up any opportunity he got.

The university had big library. Today, you were helping the librarian put returned books back on the shelves. You were always so disgustingly considerate of other people. He didn't understand it.

When Scaramouche saw you walking down the hall with an arm full of books, drinking from a water bottle as you walked he made his way towards you.

A few moments later, you sighed, annoyed. Scaramouche had dumped the books onto the floor, and batted your water bottle out of your hand. Water was now soaking into your shirt, making the fabric cling to your chest.

You were quiet for a moment before you spoke. "Ugh, I don't understand what I did to you."

Scaramouche laughed. You really didn't know. You'd captivated him. You had the audacity to make him fall in love with you. "You are a weak little slut for me, admit it," He said, smirking down at you.

He waited for the interesting volley of reactions that were about to come from you. His smirk widened when he saw your cheeks flush from his degradation.

You glared at him, kicking your now empty water bottle at him. You almost didn't miss. Where did you get those kicks from, anyway? You were such a tiny little thing.

"Oh, don't hold your breath," You snapped.

Scaramouche smacked a hand on the wall next to your head. Ah, there it was, the quality about you that both aroused and infuriated him. You stood up to him. Usually, people folded in a second if he bullied them.

But not you.

He couldn't coax so much as a flinch from you. Why were you like this? How did you manage to show a certain level of submissive and still stand up to him? Where did you even come from, anyways?

You never ceased to fascinate him.

Scaramouche grit his teeth. You let out a small squeak of surprise when he grabbed a handful of your hair. "Defiant sluts need to be put in their place," He hissed, laughing again when he saw your cheeks flush darker.

You let out a soft squeak of surprise when he threw the door to an empty classroom, pushed you inside and slammed the door closed. You didn't fight him, not once.

He knew you wanted this, knew you wanted him.

You barely had time to sputter about the door being unlocked before he pushed you down onto your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

Now everyone was going to hear him breaking you down. No one would dare walk in even if the door was unlocked. They sure would hear you scream that you were his. He was going to make sure of that.

Angling your hips up, he lifted your skirt. "Easy access, how thoughtful of you," He purred, smacking a hand across your ass before he cupped his hand on your cunt. He nearly groaned when he felt how wet you already were.

Of course, if you said no, he would immediately take his hands off of you. Scaramouche may be mean, but he wasn't a scumbag like people thought he was.

A shaky sigh of pleasure met his ears, making a shiver dance up his spine. Pressing your face into the floor, he hastily tugged your panties down, drinking in the sight of your dripping cunt bared before him.

It looked just a tempting as he imagined it would be.

His fingers found your clit. It throbbed underneath his fingers as he rubbed it. You squirmed, trying to push your hips back into his fingers. "Ha, I knew it," He taunted, making you gasp when he abruptly pushed two fingers inside of you. "You are a weak slut for me. Now beg for me to fuck you, and admit it."

The pace of his fingers was slow at first, kissing his fingers against your sweet spot a little bit at a time. Your desperate sounding whimpers were starting to make his cock throb and harden.

He scissored your walls apart, smacking a hand across your ass again when you started moaning. Your fingernails scratched at the floor, your walls beginning to clamp around his fingers. When it got more consistent, he increased his pace. He drove his fingers harshly into your cunt, nudging his fingers firmly on your sweet spot.

You were caving fast. The words came tumbling out of your mouth before you realized it. "Please fuck me, I need you to fuck to me," You pleaded.

Scaramouche was already stroking his cock while he watched you start to fall apart. "See," He purred gleefully, "it was that easy. I didn't even have to hold my breath."

Your orgasm was building up too intense and tight that you couldn't bite back a response. "Please.." You whimpered, and that made him snap.

Scaramouche grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head back. "Good girl," He turned your head to give you a heated, open mouthed kiss. It only made you melt more for him as the breath was stolen right out of your lungs. "Now, tell them all just who is fucking you."

He drug his cock between your folds, coating it generously in your slick before he pushed himself inside of you. Your fate was all but sealed now.

You were all his now.

A fate that you gladly welcomed.

Moving your arms and legs into a V, he wrapped your arms around his legs and pulled you up. Locking his fingers behind your neck, he ruthlessly thrust into your cunt.

Scaramouche fucked every bit of frustration from you standing up to him, and every ounce of lust and passion he felt into you.

The harder he pounded into your cunt, the louder you cried out. "Go, on admit!" He commanded, "I'm not letting you cum until you do."

Your eyes widened from the threat, especially with your orgasm coiling even tighter than before. "Fine, I'm a weak little slut for you!" His pace was dizzying, almost inhuman.

Your body seized and convulsed in pleasure against him. You desperately tried to writhe from how good it felt to have his cock drilling inside of you, but his told was too tight.

Your struggle only added fuel to the fire. Scaramouche groaned in bliss, hissing in pleasure. "Scream my name, slut. Or are you going to cum like a whore before you can?"

You couldn't help yourself. "Scaramouche! Scaramouche, it's you fucking me!" You screamed as your orgasm broke apart. Scaramouche shuddered in bliss the moment he felt your release flood onto his cock.

He let out a long, husky moan as his cock throbbed, spilling cum inside of you. You mewled happily, your walls continuing to flutter and clamp sensitive around his cock as he chased his high.

When he was satisfied, he dropped you somewhat unceremoniously onto the floor. Panting, he flipped you over onto your back. Laying on top of you, he hide his face in your neck. "Don't ever leave me," He murmured.

The way you stroked his hair reassured him.

You were all his now.

[lenoraslament]

Infatuated (Tom Riddle X y/N Reader)

Part of @thatdammchickennugget Hogmarch challenge. Prompt 5 “amortentia” and “is that why you did that? Back there?

2.8k words Comedy/Angst/Obsessive Romance/Toxic Love

For all my fellow delulus

You have been Tom’s friend for years, waiting patiently for him to notice you. Completely obsessed over him. Finally at a party you spill all your secrets...

His letters are long elegant strokes, you lick your lips as his fingers move across the page. His dark brows are knitted together over his perfect eyes. The way his lips purse in concentration, makes the breath in your lungs hitch.

Unwittingly you put your thumbnail in your mouth, gnawing softly as you try to resist the urge to launch yourself across the study table and beg him to touch you.

Your eyes are still studying his hands as they write in his notebook. You consider what they may feel like wrapped around your hair, your throat. A thumb dragging across your lips or nestled between your thighs softly stroking your-

“Quite alright Y/N?” his voice is calm, soft so unlike the raging heat inside of you.

“Yes. Quite Riddle” you say with a flustered smile as you quickly snap back to. You turn the page of the potions textbook in front of you.

You dare not meet his gaze, instead you return to the mask you’ve kept around him. Uninterested, bored even. That’s how you managed the rarity of his company.

Most girls threw themselves at him willingly, eagerly. Flirting, sending him love notes, even daring to be forward enough to ask him out. Fools.

He laughed in their face, raising his eyebrow and shaking his head. The attractive outliers would end up in his bed, being politely swept under the rug in the morning.

You however, have outlasted all of them. You, his study partner, his constant companion, his friend. You knew a measured man like Tom Riddle needed to be approached with careful grace and finesse.

Years you had laid in wait. Waiting for him to notice you across the library table, sitting at his side in the great hall. Pining for any crumb of attention he tossed your way, never enough to keep you fed. Only making you hungrier.

Small moments gave you hope. Fingers brushing over passed books, genuine smiles through laughter, once he stopped down to tie your shoe when your hands were full. His finger brushed your ankle, he looked up at you with a grin as you held in a scream.

Now you sit with him at the library, closer than any other conquest has ever gotten. Breathing his air, pretending to listen to him talk about potions theory this week when you’re really trying to count the flecks of green in his eyes.

Regulus, Enzo and Theo approach the table. Your mouth tightens at the intrusion, they give you an amused glance before turning to Tom.

They invite him to a party tomorrow night in the Slytherin common room, he gives a noncommittal answer. They banter back and forth. No one seems to remember that you’re also sitting there.

They laugh and talk about the party from two weekends ago. You watch boiling jealous rage brewing underneath your calm, stoic face.

Especially when Tom mentions a certain blonde Ravenclaw who he hooked up with. You glide your tongue over your teeth as you press your quill into the page indenting down so harshly, the paper splits.

Enzo, one of the kinder boys of the bunch, extends an invitation.

“Oh yea Y/N, if you want to come…you’re welcome to…” he says in such a polite tone, you almost roll your eyes.

You also give a soft “maybe”, your eyes quickly flicking over Tom’s face trying to read his expression. Does he want you there? Should you go? You try not to stare to long as you dig for some sort of sign in his face. But there is nothing.

Disappointed at his flat affect, you sigh. Too loudly. Fuck. He looks up at you.

“You should come” Tom says with a gentle smile.

“I might” you say as you stare at the textbook instead of him, absolutely mortified at your own behavior.

Theo, Enzo and Regulus leave whispering to each other out of earshot.

“Holy shit why did you invite Y/N!?”

“She’s Tom’s friend”

“More like Tom’s pet. She follows him around like she’s on a leash and she is fucking WEIRD”

They break into laughter, unbeknownst to you. You’re too enthralled in your study session.

“Please?!” You lurch over Pansy’s vanity, her eyes are unsympathetic. She takes an appraising look at your jeans and raggedy sweater.

“No.” She says bluntly,”you’re not used to wearing nice things, you’re going to ruin it.”

You groan and continue to plead your case.

“But I don’t have anything to wear”

She continues to stare at you unimpressed.

“It’s my first party!” You whine and she smirks.

“Why would you think I care?”

She had a fair point. You were hardly even cordial with her much less friendly.

“I’ll do your potions homework. For a week. Two weeks!” You say slamming your hand on her desk desperately.

She sighs loudly and stands up quickly. Her hand plunges into the closet where she retrieves a little black dress. She throws it in your face.

“Three weeks. One stain and I will Crucio you.” She snaps as she sits back down fixing her eyeliner.

The hot singe of your curling iron bit your finger and you suck on the sear mark. Damnit. You were near close to giving up but you looked in the mirror.

You looked…good. You managed to do a decent smoky eye with some lip gloss. You only had three curls left to make after burning your hand about a dozen times. Pansy’s dress fit you like a dream. The only thing that ruined your look was your low conservative heels. They were all you had. You really weren’t much of a going out sort of girl.

You make your way to the common room, the fingers of green neon light are reaching into the hall. The music vibrates under your feet, as you enter the common room you swear you’re transported into another planet.

Your classmates are spilled out all over the common room. Taking shots, laughing loudly, swaying to the music, bodies pressing closely together. You feel like you recognize everyone and no one.

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people and activity. You feel small and alone. Am I experiencing ego death? You wonder but then a familiar voice makes jump.

“Well if it isn’t my big brother’s little stalker.” Mattheo’s voice crept up on you, your eyes widened as you looked around him to make sure that Tom wasn’t nearby.

“Quiet Mattheo” you snap as he gives you a wicked grin.

“You never come to parties,” he says ignoring your ourburst,”You look pretty hot….hoping to play interference?” He teases as your cheeks burn.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie,”I come to parties all the time”.

“Mhm”he grins watching your face.

“Oh look there’s Tom now” he says gesturing with his chin. You flip around quickly surveying the crowd.

Mattheo bursts into laughter,”You are so easy to fuck with”.

You turn back to him and smack his arm as he dies of laughter.

“Come on crazy,” he says with a chuckle,”let’s get you a drink so you can mellow out”.

He tugs your arm through the crowd and you reluctantly follow.

He hands you some punch that is actually delicious. You quickly finish your first cup and then two more. Anxiously sipping as Mattheo talks to you, not that you’re listening at all. Back and forth your eyes begin to hurt from squinting into the dimness of the party; hunting for Tom. You’ve never been this drunk before and you can feel your edges dissolving.

Finally you spot him, some girl a grade below you leans on wall. His forearm is pressed above her head as he leans over her, flirting. His hand brushes some hair out of her face. You’re not used to seeing him like this. Your stomach smolders in pain, for a moment you worry you’re having a heart attack. You can feel it splitting in your chest.

Mattheo’s hand presses into the small of your back, it’s the first sensation to register outside of the despair. You gasp and he gives you a funny look handing you your fourth cup of punch. You don’t even taste it, only tip your head back chugging while Mattheo stares at you in disbelief.

“You okay Y/N?” He leans over to you but you slap the empty cup against his chest handing it to him wordlessly. He takes it and tries in vain to stop you as you start walking towards where Tom and that usurper are standing.

“Hiii,” you say loudly as they both look at you, Tom with surprise and amusement. Her with horror and disgust.

“Hey Y/N, wow look at you…” Tom says raising his eyebrows , “Are you having fun?”

“Sooo much fun,” you slur batting your eyelashes. An awkward silence that you don’t pick up on ensues. You only grin dizzily” Tom. Can I talk to you?”

The girl looks perturbed at your intrusion, but Tom leans and whispers something in her ear making her smile.

He leads you to a corner of the party, the music dulled just enough so you don’t have to yell. The room spins a little but you focus on his eyes, his gorgeous eyes. Then his mouth and jaw. You sigh as the room spins again and it hits you all of a sudden that you’re talking. You’ve been talking this whole time. Your words collide, you have no idea what you have been rambling about. Tom nods patiently at you.

“So any way, I think that’s why we should be together” you finish knowing in your heart you must have made perfect sense. Because Tom Riddle is smiling.

His eyes are unreadable but his mouth is a grin.

That’s answer enough for you. You launch yourself forward, pressing your lips onto his. You can taste the fire whiskey on his mouth and you let out a soft moan as he catches you. Ten seconds of pure heaven before his hands on your shoulder pull you back gently.

He leads you to a chair and sits you down, stooping so he can meet you eye level.

“Wait here okay?” He asks his voice garbled. You nod with a slovenly smile

“Okay...I love you!” You yell after him loudly and he only chuckles and disappears.

To your dismay, it’s Mattheo who comes over to you a few minutes later.

“Alright cuckoo bird, time for bed” he says balancing a cigarette in his mouth as he pulls you up. His hands snakes around your waist.

“Where’s Tom?” You whine as he helps you out of the party. Your feet tripping over your heels.

“He wanted me to make sure you go to bed,” he mumbles as he tries to steady you.

“Awww he really cares,” you sigh dreamily. Mattheo rolls his eyes and leads you to your dorm. Halfway there he gives up on you balancing and throws you over his shoulder. Mattheo unlocks your door as he hums in agreement to your psycho babbles about his brother. He drops you on the bed and unbuckles the straps of your heels as you barely sit up sleepily.

“You okay?” He asks but you only curl onto your bed falling asleep. He sighs and turns the light off leaving back to the party.

No. No. NO! You sit up, stupid party dress still on. Your head pounding. No hangover can come close to the whirlwind of shame that pushed your head back into the pillow. You wanted to cry but nothing would come out but a muffled scream.

“Shut up!” you hear your roommates complain as you pulled the blanket over your head.

You wait an hour but the world refuses to crumble around you. So you reluctantly sit up and go shower. You finally cry in there.

Everything is ruined.

Right?

Could you play it off?

No. Stupid girl. You literally told him you loved him. You sob into your hand. Oh the inhumanity.

You dress and comb your wet hair. You can’t even make eye contact with the mirror.

As if you hadn’t suffered enough, you bump into a very freshly showered Mattheo in the hall outside of the bathroooms. He’s only wearing a towel around his waist, when he sees you his grin is devilish.

“There’s the little lush,”he said putting his tongue between his teeth.

You scrunch your nose at him,”Oh go put some clothes on. No one wants to see that.”

He may have water dripping from his curls, cascading down his impressively cut chest and abs, but you hate him. For the simple fact that he is not Tom.

“Oh am I happy to see you,” he teased leaning on the wall next to you,”so tell me, when you shamelessly admitted your love to Tom last night. Did you show him his name scribbled all over your notebook? Or did you wear the sweater you knitted out of his hair?”.

Your face crumpled into rage,”oh screw you Mattheo”.

You sigh when you wonder how bad it was, you don’t remember every thing you said. Although Mattheo is only joking, you know you do have a notebook with “y/n riddle <3” written on it from third year.

Mattheo bites his lip as he suppresses a chuckle,”Well, if you’re ready to go plan your wedding; he’s sitting in the common room right now”.

It takes 64 steps to walk from the bathroom to the common room. You know this because you have doubled back twice trying to build up the courage to finally see Tom. You can hear his quiet words muddled by the loud laughter of Enzo and Theo. Suddenly you feel a someone nudge you.

Regulus and now dressed Mattheo walk past you. Mattheo tosses you a wink as he speaks up.

“Hey look who I found!” He says loudly as he walks in the common room. You hiss for him to shut up as you follow him in.

Your face is already burning as you feel all their eyes fall on you. Okay….none of their eyes fall on you. Especially not Tom’s, his are pinned to Theo and Enzo who are discussing something intensely.

“Did you hear? What happened last night? So fucking crazy man” Theo says to Regulus and Mattheo.

Regulus sits on the arm of a chair,”nah what?”

“Someone handed out amortentia candies!” Enzo said laughing.

“Huh..really?” Mattheo said suspiciously. He looked over to you with an evil grin,”speaking of love…”

You cut him off, “Armortentia candies really?!” You say a little too loudly.

Enzo’s smile turns into a smirk,”Oh yea…chocolates. They were a rogue batch, it intensified love for the first person you saw”.

You don’t know what to say, your mouth hangs open and then shuts.

Tom turned towards you with a look of shocked realization,”Is that why you did that? Back there…”

You stand slack jawed, the idea rippling through your mind like heavens gate opening.

Tom only raises his brow at your silence,”at the party?”

“Yes!” you say eagerly feeling the weight of the world lifting off of your shoulders.

“I did have some chocolates at the party,”You continue and ignore Mattheo chewing on his tongue in the corner, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously.

You take a couple step towards where Tom stood next to Theo,” I must have um, yes and you were the first person…I saw ” you said trying not to blather on as the pieces of your lie came together.

He gives you a curious glance as if trying to read your expression.

You sheepishly shrug,”Gosh I am so humiliated”.

Is he falling for it? You can’t tell, your eyes peer into his searching.

Tom only put a friendly hand on your shoulder, “Forget about it” he said gently.

You nodded with a grateful smile,”Thanks Tom”.

“I was going to the library, care to join?” He asked removing his hand leaving you wanting as usual.

“Yes…let me get my books from my room,” you say. What luck. You can’t believe how close you were to ruining every thing. Fate itself must have made those Amortentia chocolates.

What you didn’t know is that Tom was watching you as you walked away. He knows perfectly well you didn’t eat any amortentia chocolates because there never were any. He started the rumor last night before he left the party.

Tom quite enjoys the little game you’ve been playing. He realized early on just how in love you were with him. At the same time he realized you couldn’t recognize when someone was using legilimency on you.

He loved to listen to the infatuated rantings in your head as he sat in the library with you, your mouth twitching as you lusted over him. The cute smile you would get as you strategized on the ways you could get him to notice you.

He remembers the day he bent down to tie your shoe, having to hide his own smile as he listened to the nuclear meltdown you had in your head as he purposefully grazed your ankle. It was so fun.

One day, he supposed, he would finally make a move on you. Sometimes it was hard to resist, as he listened to all the dirty thoughts spewing in your brain in the middle of class Iike his own personalized erotica. Last night at the party you finally snapped so he had to come up with the perfect excuse for your silly behavior. It wasn’t time for that yet.

Yes, one day he would finally take advantage of the crazy crush you’ve harbored for years. But not any time soon. He was too busy enjoying your quiet devotion, your obsession. No, Tom was not near ready to let that go.

______________

(Hehehee I never intended this to be more than a TMR one shot but I’m getting interested in exploring Mattheo’s relationship with Y/N in this fic 👀 any interest?)

[thebisexualdogdad]

fic where Maddy Perez falls for East highlands resident bad boy and they hook up after a group project

Maddy Perez x Male!reader

Maddy certainly wasn't the only person in school to have a thing for you, in fact you had already made your way through most of the cheerleading squad but unlike them Maddy refused to let you know she was insanely attracted to you.

"Looking good Perez, when are you going to let me take you out," you asked her one day in history class when she was wearing her cheer uniform for that night's football game.

"Never gonna happen Y/N," she said rolling her eyes but really she was imagining how good your head would look underneath her skirt.

Then there was that time at a party when you surprised everyone by actually showing up.

"What are you doing here? Don't you prefer getting drunk on cheap beer behind the liquor store," Maddy jokes, finding you in the kitchen as you start drinking some very expensive whisky directly from the bottle.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you," you say, offering her the whisky, "you look hot by the way."

Maddy quickly grabs the bottle and chugs some of it hoping to hide the blush forming on her cheeks, "too bad I'm not interested in letting you get in my pants but I'm sure you'll find someone else to get lucky with."

"You're breaking my heart Perez," you say playfully.

"Didn't know you had one," she cracks.

"If you ever let me take you out on that date you'd see there's more to me than just being a devilishly handsome bad boy," you say leaning in close to her.

Maddy gulps, taking another swig of whisky to stop herself from fucking you right there on that counter.

You and Maddy continued this game until you eventually got partnered up for a history project.

How the hell was she going to retain her self control and not jump your bones when you were going to be spending so much time together alone in her bedroom.

Well technically you could have done this project at the library but Maddy was horny and thinking with her pussy, not her brain.

So here you are, in her room on day three of working on your project with Maddy looking at you like a four course meal after you drove her home on your motorcycle.

Her body was still humming from the vibrations and holding onto you so tightly.

"Maddy? Earth to Maddy," you laugh, snapping her out of her trance, "I think we've got enough research notes to start working on the essay."

"Yeah, right, let me get my laptop," she says, taking a seat at her desk and turning her laptop on.

You grab the small ottoman she uses at her vanity mirror and take a seat next to her, a little too close for Maddy to stay focused on the essay.

"You want me to type? You seem to be making a lot of typos there Perez," you laugh.

Maddy pushes the laptop in front of you and stands from her chair, "I need some water do you want anything?"

"Vodka would be nice," you grin.

"I'll get you a soda," she says before leaving her bedroom.

When she returns her glass of water is nearly empty from her trying to cool herself down and she hands you the soda.

You crack it open and take a drink, setting it on the desk as you keep working.

"Can you hand me the textbook, there's something I want to look up," you ask a few minutes later and when she grabs the book she knocks your dark soda over and it spills right onto your white shirt.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry," she says running to her bathroom to grab a towel to clean up her desk.

But when she steps out of her bathroom you're standing there shirtless.

"Mind if I wash this in your sink? Its sticky and I don't want it to stain," You ask.

"Uh, yeah, yeah that's fine," she says, glazing over your abs as you walk past her to her bathroom.

She cleans up the soda and hears the water running in the bathroom, she has to get it together.

She sits on the edge of her bed and puts her head in her hands, how the hell did you have this much of an affect on her.

"Hey it's okay, it's just a shirt," you chuckle when you come back into her room.

You left your shirt hanging in the bathroom to dry and now there's some stray water droplets running down your stomach.

Fuck.

You walk over to her and Maddy can't fight the urges anymore, her hands go to your neck and she pulls you down into an intense kiss.

"Woah, Maddy," you say in surprise, pulling away from her.

"You've been hitting on me since the sixth grade, you really don't want this?" She scoffs.

"I want this more than you know, I just want to make sure you want this," you say.

"I want this Y/N, I really want this," she says bringing you back in for another kiss.

You sink down to your knees in front of her, kissing down her neck and playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Take it off," she orders and in seconds her shirt is gone.

You keep kissing down her body until you reach the top of her jeans.

You look up at her and she nods her consent before raising her hips in the air so you could tug her jeans down her legs.

"God you're beautiful Maddy," you say, kissing along her thighs, "and so wet already."

"I hate that you turn me on this much," she groans right as your tongue licks her through her panties.

"If you want me to stop just tell me to," you say.

"Don't you fucking dare stop," she says sternly and you smile, pulling her panties to the side and tasting her directly.

You moan and Maddy feels it deep in the pit of her stomach, your tongue working her in ways no other guy ever had before.

One her of legs goes over your shoulder, giving you better access.

Her arousal drips down your chin and you slip a finger inside with ease, Maddy moaning above you.

A second finger enters her and you pump them slowly, using your other hand to pull the hood of her clit back and suck it between your lips.

"Holy shit," Maddy cries out, she had been holding this in for so long she can't even feel embarrassed about how quickly she came because it felt so fucking good.

"Damn Perez, I wasn't even down there for a full five minutes," you say cockily.

"Shut up and fuck me Y/N," she demands and you happily stand up, dropping your jeans to reveal the massive boner poking through your boxers.

"You got any condoms?" You ask, stroking yourself through your boxers which only turns her on more.

"Top left drawer in my bathroom," she says.

You go to her bathroom again and find the box of condoms, grabbing one and when you return her bra and panties are gone, leaving her completely naked and now in the center of her bed.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" You say, letting your boxers join the rest of your clothes on the floor and putting the condom on.

"Didn't I tell you to fuck me already?" Maddy states and you smirk, joining her in bed.

You settle on top of her, kissing her and she moans at the taste of herself on your tongue.

Reaching down you tease her with the tip of your cock, lathering it with her arousal before easing it inside.

Maddy clearly doesn't want to wait any longer so you quickly rock your hips in a steady rhythm.

Her nails dig into your back, her bed creaking underneath you.

You suck harshly at her neck, one of your hands going to play with her chest.

Maddy moans loudly when you roll one of her nipples between your fingers, legs wrapping around your waist so you can hit deeper inside her.

"Oh fuck me, right there, right there," she chants.

Once again it doesn't take long for her to cum, this one hitting her even harder than the first.

"Do you want me to pull out?" You ask her, slowing your movements giving her a few aftershocks.

"No, keep going until you cum," she says, grabbing your ass.

You smirk and pick your pace back up, she's squeezing your ass and within another minute you're cumming inside her.

"Fuck Maddy," you grunt, your hips moving more frantically through your release.

"That felt so fucking good," she says, groaning when you pull out of her and feeling so empty.

You roll over next to her, taking the condom off and throwing it in the trash next to her bed.

"So does this mean you're finally gonna let me take you on a date?" You tease.

"I'll tell you what Y/N, if we get an A on this project, I'll go on a date with you," she replies.

"You got yourself a deal," you smile, "now let's get back to work, we have an essay to write."

"Have you ever worked this hard on an assignment before?" She jokes.

"Nope but sex is an excellent motivation and it'll be even better at the end of it because I'm going to take you on the best date of your life."

[toetickler123]

calling them by the wrong name

alhaitham, kazuha, wanderer, xiao x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, kazuha thinks you're cute (you are!), kissing, words of endearment

"kaveh?"

your voice is met with a deafening silence. in the midst of an overwhelming aura, you glance up—albeit hesitantly—at the akademiya's scribe.

he returns your gaze with a piercing, almost offended expression that forces a furrow to his eyebrows and the narrow of his forest eyes.

fearlessness takes over you in the way you repeat, "kaveh...?"

alhaitham stares at you, in utter disgust, before returning his gaze to the book in his hands.

they must be talking to the wrong person, is all he thinks. but why to him, of all people? there's a bitter taste in the back of alhaitham's tongue as he contemplates while you're calling his roommate's name when he's right there. in front of you. kaveh isn't, though.

although he isn't much of a devotee, alhaitham thanks celestia that kaveh isn't here—his presence always brings a headache.

you clear your throat before lifting your head up from your desk. staring straight at alhaitham, who begrudgingly returns your gaze, you say, "kaveh."

alhaitham looks around the empty library, his frown deepening once he sees no one else. after surveying the room, the scribe returns his gaze to you.

"i look nothing like that..." he has to mentally prepare himself to even perceive kaveh. "..." his silence indicates his failure.

the moment you turn your head away to stifle a laugh, alhaitham knows that this is another one of your petty pranks (he really needs to get you away from kaveh lest you become too much like him).

"sorry, you looked too funny just now," you mumble, still struggling to mask your amusement while alhaitham stares at you with an unimpressed expression.

in an act of wordless defiance, the scribe places his noise-cancelling ear pieces over both of his ears before feigning ignorance to your gasp of offense.

"c'mon, alhaitham!" you exclaim, poking the man's arm repeatedly before he clicks his tongue. with narrowed eyes, alhaitham takes one ear piece out before cocking his head haughtily.

"what? sorry, you just looked too funny."

he only smirks once you rub your temples in annoyance.

kazuha knows you're up to something; it's obvious in the glint of your eyes and the way you fail to suppress a scheming smile once you see him.

kazuha likes your smile, really, but this one's a little different.

still, he can't help but feel a little giddy inside at your expression. you're so cute, is all he thinks, watching you talk with one of the ship's crewmates before approaching him happily.

"heizou!" you exclaim, a giant grin on your face as your arms reach out for a hug. for a moment there, kazuha's previous worries of you scheming something fly out the window (or off the deck) as he takes a second to register what you just called him.

"dear," he returns your enthusiasm, albeit a bit cautious. "that's not my name."

"oh, sorry about that, kazuha!" you correct yourself with a feigned sense of regret, which—despite his perceptive nature—pacifies the samurai's worries. he pushes away all thoughts of warning in order to marvel at the (mischievous) expression on your face.

he soon regrets his actions once you call him, with the whole of your confidence, "venti." despite there being no one around you in kazuha's quarters, he glances around, as if to ask for some reassurance from someone else because you did not just do that.

what especially shocks him is the sheer warmth in your voice; the sound of unadulterated, pure love that brings shivers down his spine and goosebumps rippling throughout his skin. kazuha frowns a little, staring at you with half an enamored expression and another half of disbelief.

"dear," he repeats, this time, in more of a pouty tone.

"hehe," you reply unashamedly. taking his bandaged hand in yours, all you do is kiss the back of it before he regains his classic, kind smile.

"kazuha,"—there you go again, speaking in a tone of fervent affection—"i love you; it was just a prank."

humming in response, the samurai squeezes your hand before tilting his head away.

"do you, now?"

"kazuha!" your eyes widen, almost afraid that he doubted you. however, the look in his crimson eyes and the smirk that takes over his lips say otherwise.

"do you?" he asks, again. he leans closer to you, eyes sparkling.

"of course," you reply.

"well," his voice dips into a whisper, "prove it."

swiftly, you peck him on the lips; but he isn't satisfied. kazuha pulls you back in, his hands resting gently on your jaw, before smiling into another kiss.

and another.

and another.

you knew it was a bad idea, but still, you did it anyway. curiosity kills the cat, but satisfaction (in the form of an enraged outburst and an intense hurricane) brings it back.

with a deep breath and the grit of his teeth, wanderer nearly summons the entirety of barbatos' power once you refer to him as "childe." he had to do a double take, really, before finally confirming that there was no one else and you were actually calling him that.

"excuse me?!" he retorts, offended. "me? childe? do i look like that insect?" at the sight of your amused smirk and unsure expression, wanderer takes his question back.

"don't answer that. no matter what you say, you're wrong."

"bu—" you start, but wanderer quickly interjects.

"nope, i don't want to hear it."

"but—"

"i said, i don't want to hear it!"

"m'love," you say, voice barely above a whisper. wanderer is taken aback—it's obvious in the way his bottom lip trembles a little at the endearment, his ears reddening and prompting him to cough violently into his fist.

"don't..." he begins to lose his resolve. "don't call me that."

"but m'love," you say, again. "i didn't mean it!"

wanderer eyes you up and down—as if to question whether or not you think he's stupid—before huffing begrudgingly.

"oh, shut up."

"i love you," you state, partially in order to quell his anger, and partially to witness the pink hues on his face.

"whatever."

even when you turn away, wanderer's eyes never leave your form.

"... love you too," he mumbles.

"what was that?" you ask, not looking back.

"nothing."

there's this deafening silence that follows your call for ganyu instead of xiao. the yaksha doesn't know what to do, but somehow, he speeds through the five stages of grief and lands on bargaining as he glances at you with slightly widened eyes.

is it because we're both adepti? he thinks, trying to reassure himself. or maybe it's because we both have the robust souls of the adepti...

"sorry," you suddenly say, scratching the back of your head. "i meant zhongli."

xiao exclaims a shocked, "what?!" before quickly shaking his head.

"no... you did not mean 'zhongli'... that is rex—i mean, that is the funeral consultant..."

with a betrayed expression and a slight frown to his lips, xiao takes a step toward you in an act of defiance. he internally thanks the crest of the moon for the emptiness of wangshu inn's balcony; he thanks it for allowing time with you.

even if you keep calling him by the wrong name—with that innocent smile of yours—xiao is still that same smitten, lovesick adeptus that is weak to your whims.

"unless you really did mean re—ah, zhongli?" xiao asks, a slight slump to his words as he crosses his arms awkwardly. xiao looks to you in times of need, yet with your teasing tone, he isn't quite sure of what to do.

"no, xiao,"—his head perks up once you call his name—"i meant baizhu."

he blinks once, then twice, before stepping back to teleport away. you, however, know his schemes well enough to have his wrist caught in your hand quicker than he can move, his breath hitching slightly at the contact.

"i was just kidding, xiao." the yaksha has to take a deep breath at the way you say his name; it's not anything special, but your voice and tone eases his mind in inexplicable ways. xiao feels loved, he feels, whenever you do so much as utter a word—it doesn't even have to be his name.

"hmph. impudent mortal, you really have no respect for the adepti." he turns his head away, not shaking your grip away. rather, his hand relaxes in your touch.

"xiao, your ears are red."

he remains silent.