#he’s a good guy and very kind but I’m not really attached to him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he��ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.�� It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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leo-muscle · 2 months

Note

I’ve heard a little bit about this King Leon guy. Who does he think he is to call himself a king? Seems far to pretentious if you ask me. I wouldn’t be caught dead bowing to someone like that. Not in a million years.

Sure I’m the most basic looking white dude on the planet. My face gets lost in the crowd and my body is light enough to be blown by a breeze. But a king can’t change that, and I would like to see him or any of his subjects try to.

"Are you sure about that?" The bartender told you. You had just arrived on your vacation in Haiti, and the resort's bartender had decided to strike up a conversation with you over drinks. He was enormous, seven feet of pure surfer boy muscle, with a thick gut that was the very picture of strength. He would have been the most beautiful man you had ever seen, if you weren't in the middle of a massive rant.

"Oh, absolutely." You continued. "Whoever these 'kings' are, I don't want anything to do with 'em. Who are they to declare rule over the entire world, and who are we to listen to them?"

It was true, of course. Much of Africa, the British Isles, Central America, and even the islands you were now in had been united under the rule of these Kings. While many praised them for their novel social reforms and exponential increase to quality of life in their domains, many others, yourself included, remained attached to the old ways. Even this vacation was a scouting trip, to see if whatever propaganda these Kings were putting out was true.

"On the contrary, my friend, I am perfectly happy to listen to the rule of my King. You should have seen this island before King Kai came here. Homelessness, poverty... it's all been amended since he arrived."

"Really?" You asked, taking a big swig of your drink, savoring its tingle on your lips. "And NO one's uncomfortable being ruled by just one person?"

"People love King Kai. He is kind and just, like any good king should be. You'll see that soon enough." The bartender said.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, your heart racing.

"Oh, nothing much. Just give it a few seconds."

"What are you-- UGH!" You doubled over, your skin on fire with a sensation entirely alien to you.

The bartender walked out from behind the bar, and soon, his magical hands went to work. With his kingly essence in your system, you could be molded into a respectable citizen of the world.

He started with your pecs, cupping them from behind as they burst through your tropical shirt with new strength. They were enormous, voluptuous pillows, jiggling with muscle and a thin layer of fat.

He then moved his hands along your shoulders, pumping them into cannonballs of strength. The moment his hands reached your arms, they pulled and pushed, leaving your twiggy biceps and forearms as but a fleeting memory, replacing them with pulsing, powerful cannons of strength. In awe, you flexed your right arm, forming a mound easily as big as a baseball if not more.

You moaned softly as King Kai's beautiful hands lightly traced a six-pack onto your stomach, each ab popping into existence, forming an impenetrable wall of strength.

Soon, his hands navigated south, one massive hand palming your flat ass, while the other grabbed your tiny three-inch cock. You moaned, long, low, and hard as both of his hands began to move out from your body, pulling your cock and ass with them. Your cheeks rounded out into a big, bouncy bubble butt, bigger than most women's. It shook with strength and sexuality with every slight movement you made, much like your cock, which had grown so big with the King's touch that no pair of pants could conceal your enormous bulge. His touch was electric on your shaft, causing you to pre almost endlessly.

Your mind was in heaven as he continued to your legs. Your cock was at full mast at its enormous eleven inches as he took his hands to your legs, and blew them up into corded steel pillars as big as any christmas ham. You moaned, your cock firing blanks as he looked you deep into your eyes, placing one hand to completely cover your currently-unchanged face.

"As much as I love my people, we cannot be a global community if all my citizens are homogenous." King Kai said. "Hmm, where should I send you..."

Your skin flickered through thousands of shades in a single moment, before settling on a tone a few shades darker than your original. Your hair darkened to black, and you instantly sprouted a thick dark mustache, and a chinstrap beard to match. Your eyes became narrower and monolid, your stare intensifying into a sexy smolder. As King Kai leaned in and kissed you, your bulk increased, and your muscle became padded with a thin sexy layer of fat.

"Cum." King Kai commanded you, his voice sexy enough to send you over the edge.

You had been reborn, a Vietnamese stud in the Carribean. Your brain was aflame with new neurons, making connections faster and better than ever before. You knew you had been improved, in every conceivable way. You were stronger, smarter, wiser, and you had no one but your new king to thank.

#male tf #male transformation #race change #muscle bear #bear tf #jock tf #pec growth #butt growth #asian tf #mental change #kings of the world

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hezuart · 6 months

Note

New helluva boss episode is out, any thoughts?

Season 1 Fizz: Robo Fizz was mean and called children ugly. Real Fizz called his guests “freaks”. Called Moxie an "ugly little bitch". Bragged about his fame and the money made off his robots and was even really pissed off his robot was destroyed at that theme park and wanted to sue

Season 2 Fizz: Extremely insecure, extremely nervous, hates the robots produced in his image, never bad mouths anyone and is really kind and nice to his competition, knows ASL and gives inspiration to children

Who on earth is this guy???? You’re not Fizz??? By god, she’s done it again! Another male main character has been uwuified!! 😰When will it end???

~~~

Mammon: “You’ll be like the son I never had!” Fizz is elated at this, but Blitz’s dad already treated Fizz like the son he never had? Literally gave him a card saying he wished Fizz was his son. He was treated super well and was the most beloved within his circus. I mean, he did lose that, and him explaining everything he has is because of Mammon, and so I get it, he has an attachment to all this. I like that we are expanding on his character, but I feel like its overdone. The insecurity is a little too much. The panic attacks are a little too much. (Dude lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident and its a creepy fan that he probably has to deal with on a daily basis that sets him off? I feel like he would be a tad bit mentally and physically stronger to deal with. I mean, he fricken talked back to STRIKER, a serial killer holding him for ransom locked in a cage last episode??? But he freezes up when an annoying fan criticizes him? Just feels inconsistent.)

Mammon saying “If you’re a chick, give up on your dreams, because woman ain’t funny” and then Vivziepop’s name appearing in the corner… there’s so much to unpack there. I think Viv meant it as like “I’m a woman, so I can write that joke!” or “I’m a woman, who wrote this show and is therefore funny so Mammon is wrong and it's ironic!” But it's been established that Viv neglects and mistreats her female characters. They’re either all bitches or cardboard cut outs whose entire existences revolve around a male character. It’s low-key sexist. On top of the fact that, Viv may not actually be funny because most of the actually funny jokes in the show were written by Adam and Brandon, who are both men. So its VERY ironic, but not in the way she believes it to be.

The irony of Mammon hiring an Imp who idolizes him only to exploit him and treat him like garbage… weren’t their exworkers of spindle horse that felt that way?

Some people think that Fizz’s creepy fan is like.. Viv’s poke at her critics but I don’t see a comparison at all. This guy is a super super big fan that wants to work with Fizz, which isn’t what the Viv critics want. I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point- is that they want nothing to do with her? So I’m pretty sure this guy just represents a creepy fan, which everyone gets. Like a Syndrome character.

Also in season 1, Blitz killed imps left and right for Stolas, but when that fan is actually getting close to Fizz and threatening his life, Blitz doesn’t kill him on site. He just hits him with a gun. Thank goodness he kills him later but Blitz has never really been discreet. It was just weird forced timing I guess. Season 1 Blitz would have never hesitated. He would have killed that guy on site.

I will never get over Asmodeus’s weird coat, his anatomy changes with whatever he’s wearing lkdsgjldkfj

Mammon and Fizz are pretty much just Valentino and Angel Dust , but no physical exploitation (other than his robo replicas)

The Glam and Glitz sisters are really cool I’m obsessed with their performance, but we go right back to Viv’s 2 types of women: bitches. They’re bitches to each other too. They’re sisters who have like amazing choreography and on stage chemistry, and yet they constantly fight, like… how do they even function

ALSO THEY GOT TOM HARDY TO SING HE’S NARRATING THE COMPETITION YOU GOT THE INTERNET’S FAMOUS MUSICAL COMEDIAN TO SING A SONG FOR YOUR “COMEDY” SHOW WHERE THE SONG ISN’T EVEN FUNNY It looks like he wrote it himself but… if even Tom can’t make it funny then who can???? I’m mad on his behalf

Also… the ASL imp

…. “I want to be a clown just like you! : D “ Fizz: Exploited for money as a clown ever since he was young, gained a boatload of insecurity because his boss was so pushy, forced to deal with sexual encounters, sold his likeness into a popular sex doll without actually wanting to, lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident because the circus tents aren’t safe- Also Fizz: “You can do whatever you want to : ) “ This would have been a sweet moment if this wasn’t Helluva Boss!!!!!! This is Hell!!! what on earth are you doing Viv!!!! Kid pls do literally anything else with your life Also how and why does Fiz know ASL

Ozzie and Fizzie getting a love song is cheesy you know, but…. Stolas X Blitz fans wish man… they WISH Oz x FIz is literally just the better Stolas x Blitz. Like this what the Stolitz fans want but its given to the side characters for some reason. Fizz’s end song was nice but All our main characters are just so flat Sad uwu special sweeties that have done nothing wrong... I'm just so sad to see them become former shadows of their badass selves. Our main characters were greedy, selfish, mean, sometimes creepy assholes. Now they're not. It was either an accident, they're hypocrites, or they were abused- and im like... this is Hell, can't we still have our main demon characters be assholes? I'm so curious what the explanation is gonna be for Blitz x Verosika. Is she gonna be framed as the bitch who ruined the relationship? Did Blitz "accidentally" steal her car and credit card because he was drunk? Like what else are we gonna strip away so he's "relatable"?

Nice to see Wally Wackford back I missed him

I like how fiery Ozz’s design gets Ozzie confessing he loves Fizz to an entire crowd so all of Hell knows and everyone is like “OMG I KNEW IT! GOOD FOR THEM!” Being with a low class demon was something to be ashamed of. A power imbalance. Something seen as taboo in Hell. Now we have 3 top sin embodiments dating the lowest of low class in Hell and not only do people not care negatively, they’re happy for them. There’s no stakes. Our main characters can do whatever they want “You’re gonna regret revealing that Ozz!” how who are you gonna tell? the romance police? fricken Now we have Mammon! Add him to the reoccurring villains I guess!!!! yeesh

(Clowns are apparently also like… influencers in this world for some reason???? I still don't understand Vivziepop's clown obsession I think this is just not my jurisdiction )

All things considered, not a bad episode for season 2, but im kinda at the point where I don't think helluva boss is gonna deliver anything outside of abused main characters with cute relationships I don't think they're gonna do anything else

#helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #text post #ask

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illiterateaffairs · 11 months

Text

DISTRACTIONS V | A SLIGHT MALFUNCTION

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 5,901

summary: afc richmond is off to amsterdam for an exhibition match, but the problem with going on a trip with the team is that jamie is on the team. poor guy just wants to know what he did wrong.

A/N: if someone is out of character in this chapter, no they aren’t. pretend i’m a perfect writer!

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

So you’re definitely screwed - and not in a fun way.

The evening when Jamie came over to share pizza and watch Grey’s Anatomy with you ended with him spending the night. It was the first time he did so without sex being involved. The worst part was that you initiated it. You both let time get away from you - and Jamie became very invested in Meredith and Derek’s tumultuous relationship - so you told him he could crash since it was so late. You’d offered timidly, fearing he’d think it was weird since this wasn’t your usual routine. But he didn’t even hesitate in agreeing, and you didn’t turn him away when he followed you to your bedroom.

Something shifted between the two of you after that. You actually felt like the friends part of your friends with benefits situation carried more weight. Now when he came over, instead of immediately jumping each other’s bones, you shared a meal, watched a show, or even played a game after Jamie noticed the few board games you had stowed away in your closet.

And you talked more, too. He started telling you stories about his family; how close he and his mom were, and the strained relationship between him and his father. He never went into much detail, but you could gather that his dad was definitely not a great person. You liked that he trusted you enough, though, to let you in on even a tiny bit of his struggles. It made you understand him better. Naturally, you also started sharing more with him, such as how lost you felt before coming to the U.K. You’d confided in him about the lack of friends you had back in Chicago, since Mason practically isolated you from the world outside of his own, and how insecure that made you. “Well, now you’ve got a whole football club who’d do just about anything for you,” he’d whispered, gently running a finger across your cheek as the two of you laid in bed.

At one point you almost told him a funny story about your childhood that involved Ted, but you bit your tongue and gave your uncle a fake name. Jamie cackled, though, as you described your Uncle Steve’s attempt at helping you with a science fair project that ended with baking soda shooting out of your fake volcano and into his eye. When you caught yourself musing that Jamie’s laugh must be the greatest sound in the whole world, you knew you were in trouble.

You were fucking screwed. You and Jamie agreed: no feelings. The second one of you felt weird or that you didn’t want casual sex anymore, you’d stop. You never discussed what would happen if one of you felt more, because it seemed implausible. Yet, here you were.

The obvious solution was to call it off. Jamie probably wouldn’t care. On to the next. But the selfish part of you couldn’t do it. He was just so cute and sweet and he made you feel good. And not just in bed - in general. When you were around him, you felt confident and happy and safe. Mason, at least towards the end, made you feel anxious and inept and small.

Maybe that was why you were feeling so over attached. You were used to the bare minimum from a guy, that now that a decent one was showing you attention and kindness, you were obsessing over him.

But Jamie wasn’t just decent, he was…Jamie. And despite every bone in your body telling you not to, you really liked him.

So, over the course of the last few days, you did what any reasonable person would do: ignore the problem until it just goes away. Unfortunately, the problem was Jamie and he was a little hard to ignore, since you worked with him. But you did your best to put some distance between the two of you. When he wanted to come over, you told him you had plans with Sam or Keeley. When he wanted to sneak away to your office, you told him Rebecca needed you. When he showed up at your flat with takeout from the Chinese restaurant you’d offhandedly mentioned loving once, to which he remembered, you fucked him on the couch and ate cold lo mein afterwards. But that was your only moment of weakness.

You told yourself you couldn’t avoid him forever; just long enough for your feelings to dissipate. You were just in some sort of honeymoon phase, and once the novelty of him wears off, you can be normal about everything, until you both inevitably get bored of each other and move on. It was never meant to last forever.

You have to ignore the way your heart aches at that thought.

It’s because of your fool proof plan to get over Jamie that you decide not to attend Richmond’s exhibition match in Amsterdam this weekend. Something you hadn’t told Jamie, or anyone for that matter. Which is why you’re starting to feel particularly awkward as Ted sits across from you at your desk and goes on and on about the trip.

“I was thinking when we get there, we could grab breakfast and sight-see for a bit before the game. Maybe Beard will tag along. What do you think?”

You’re pushing a piece of chicken around your plate absentmindedly when Ted looks up at you, and furrows his brows.

“What’s wrong, Kiddo?” he asks, setting his own plate onto your desk.

You look up, with wide eyes, “Who, me? Nothings wrong. I’m great! Fucking fantastic.”

He tilts his head, fixing you a look.

Your shoulders drop as you sigh, “I just…don’t think I’m going to go to Amsterdam this weekend.”

Ted’s eyes widen in shock, “What? Why not? I thought you’d be excited! New country, new adventures. You know, Amsterdam is one step closer to Iceland.”

You huff out a laugh as you rub your temple. “I know, and I do want to. I’ve just been feeling kind of run down lately. I feel like life's been kind of go, go, go since I got here. Which has been great! But it’s catching up with me and I think I just need to unwind for a weekend by myself.”

While this isn’t exactly the truth, life has been a bit hectic, so you hope he buys it. Ted nods thoughtfully, as though he wants to ask more, but accepts your answer.

This time you tilt your head and give him a pointed look, “What?”

“Nothing,” Ted’s quick to respond, “What you said makes sense. I guess I just haven’t checked in on how you’ve been coping with everything. You’ve seemed so happy since you’ve been here. You and Sam seem to get along real well, and Rebecca always sings your praises. But you are thousands of miles away from the only home you’ve ever known. Heck, I’ve been here for almost three years, and I still sometimes wake in a cold sweat craving barbeque sauce.” Ted smiles when you giggle. “All I’m saying is it's okay to miss home; to miss your parents, even to miss he-who-shall-no be named.”

You're surprised when, despite Ted avoiding his name, the allusion to Mason doesn’t make your head spin. You snort, “Well, while I do miss my dads and deep dish pizza, I can assure you I do not miss Voldemort.”

Ted hums, “That’s good.”

“You’re right, though. I honestly have really loved my life here these past few months, but I think I made myself skip the part where I processed all the changes. So, I think some time to just be will be good for me.”

“I think so, too,” he nods, “But the team and I sure will miss you this weekend.”

You don’t have time to bask in the sentiment when a knock comes through your office door. Before you can respond, the door opens to reveal Jamie.

You swear time stops for a second, as Jamie looks from you to Ted, and Ted looks from Jamie to you. You just blink, practically staring into the abyss. You know Jamie is scrambling for an excuse as to why he’s here, as you try to rationalize why either one of them is in your office. Thankfully, Ted has more than one brain cell and is able to play it cool.

“Hey, Jamie, what brings you here?” Ted greets cheerfully.

“I’m, uh, here to ask if I can see the videos we got today at practice.” Jamie makes up and you’re almost proud, “I have to make sure my public image is maintained.”

“Yes, he’s very stringent about that.” You add on, giving Ted a playful eye roll about Jamie’s ‘antics’, and he’s none the wiser. Ted gives you an amused smile.

The older man gets up and starts gathering trash into the takeout bag to dispose of. “Well, I should get going. Thanks for dinner, Kiddo. Don’t tell Roy, but this is why you’re my favorite coworker.” Ted turns to you in the doorway and winks from behind Jamie. He pats the younger man on the shoulder, and as he leaves, shouts back, “Good night, you two.”

Jamie shuts the door behind him, “Do you have dinner with Ted often?”

You shrug, “Sometimes.”

Jamie nods, and you’re relieved neither of them were suspicious of anything. You’re still overwhelmed by the two of them crossing paths like that, that you’re late to processing that you and Jamie are alone in your dimly lit office which is exactly the type of situation you’re trying to avoid. However, Jamie doesn’t initiate anything like you’d expected. Instead, he flops down into the chair across from you, almost dejectedly. He beats you to the punch before you can ask.

“Why aren’t you coming to Amsterdam?”

That takes you aback, “You heard that?” You glance briefly in the direction Ted disappeared in, “Did you hear anything else?”

“No,” Jamie frowns, “I got here right when Ted said the team would miss you.”

You hold back a relieved sigh.

“We will miss you, by the way,” Jamie adds, “Me especially.”

Your stomach flutters. What the hell did that mean?

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah,” Jamie nods, “Hotels are the best places to have sneaky sex.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, honestly grateful he’d snapped you out of your stupor.

“Sure they are. Especially when you’re sharing a room with one of your teammates.”

“Well, I could get us our own room. A private suite. Maybe with a jacuzzi tub.” Jamie reaches across the table, taking your hand and rubbing it gently with his thumb. “That is, if you come with us this weekend.

You stare longingly at your intertwined fingers and he almost has you. Luckily, you have a miniscule shred of willpower left.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” you reluctantly pull your hand from his, “I really need to stay in Richmond this weekend. I need some time to relax.”

“Well, I could help you do that,” Jamie scoffs.

“Jamie, please.”

You must give away how desperate you are in your tone, because Jamie’s playful expression changes to concern.

“Are you alright?” he asks, “Did something happen?”

“No,” you shake your head aggressively, “I promise. I just want some alone time. I feel like my social battery just needs to recharge, you know?”

After a moment, Jamie still looks unsure, but nods. You think he’s going to say something else, before he’s standing up.

“I guess I’ll see you next week, then?”

You nod, and then throw him an encouraging smile, “Break a leg this weekend.”

Jamie’s face scrunches in confusion as he juts back, “What?”

You squint, “You’ve never heard that saying?” he shakes his head, “It means good luck.”

“Why the fuck would breaking a leg be good luck?”

You stare at him for a few seconds before frowning, “I don’t actually know.”

He shakes his head and continues to the doorway, giving you one last look as he wishes you a goodnight and disappears from view.

Sourly, you realize this was the first time he hasn’t offered to drive you home since you’ve met. Maybe that was for the best.

Jamie Tartt doesn’t yearn.

He’s liked plenty of women. He’s even loved a couple of them. But he doesn’t obsess over them.

You’re different, though. Apparently.

As soon as he left your office after finding out you weren’t coming to Amsterdam, he couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. It really wasn’t a big deal. It was two days. You weren’t even a couple. And yet, the idea of being apart for that long made his chest hurt. What the fuck was that about?

He’d been having confusing feelings a lot recently when it came to you. The two of you are closer than ever, bonding over little things between really, really great sex. At the same time, he felt like you were pulling away, and he couldn’t understand why. He thought you were having fun together. It really seemed like you enjoyed yourself, whether the two of you were just hanging out, or participating in your more extracurricular activities. But maybe you were getting tired of it. Maybe you were getting tired of him.

Shit. What did he do wrong?

And why does it bother him so much?

It was all your fault, really.

You with your kind heart and sweet compliments, which didn’t feel earned but he appreciated. You with your safe and comfortable embraces. You with your absolutely addictive laugh, that he’d jump through hoops to hear over and over again. You with your fucking eyes and the way you touch him during nights together, making him feel so wanted. You’ve gotten him accustomed to a certain lifestyle, one that he’s never experienced before, so now he wasn’t sure how to go back to before you started hooking up. Maybe that was what unnerved him. He was afraid if you stopped the benefits, the friendship would also stop, too. A little bit was about missing the sex, but mostly he’d miss you.

God, how you’ve ruined him.

Now here he was, surrounded by his teammates, in one of the greatest cities in the world, as they all mourned yet another loss. Despite how soul crushing these consecutive losses have been, Jamie finds himself more upset by the fact that he can’t see you tonight. With that thought propelling him, he jogs out of the locker room and finds an empty hallway to call you in. He doesn’t care if this makes him seem weird or desperate. He just wants to hear your voice.

“Hey, Jamie,” your soft voice answers after two rings. He clocks that you still sound a bit off, but it soothes him nonetheless, “I saw the game. I’m sorry.”

He manages to laugh, “Why are you watching football when you’re supposed to be relaxing?”

He smiles when he hears your own laugh through the phone, “I can multitask.”

There’s a beat of silence before you continue, “How’re you feeling? How’s the rest of the team?”

“Everyone’s miserable,” Jamie says point blankly.

“Wow, no hesitation there.”

“Yeah,” Jamie chuckles dryly, “Wish you were here, though.”

He listens intently as you sharply inhale. When you don’t respond after a few seconds, he calls out your name.

“Hey, Jamie, I’m in the middle of cooking dinner and if I don’t hurry, half of it is going to boil over. I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Tell the team hi for me.”

Before Jamie can even say goodbye, you’ve hung up. That doesn’t sit well with him. Not just because you ended the call so abruptly, but because he knew you really only cooked when you were anxious. Something was definitely up. Even if it had nothing to do with him, he finds himself wishing you’d at least want to confide in him.

Later that day, when the team has boarded the bus, the morale is criminally low. It’s so bad that it has Ted Lasso declaring that he’s revoking curfew and encouraging everyone to pull an all-nighter in Amsterdam. Suddenly, Jamie’s mood is boosted for the first time all week. A night of debauchery with his teammates was the perfect thing to get his mind off of their losing streak and you. Unfortunately, Roy has his own shit going on and decides that he needs to take it out on Jamie, by forcing him into an all night training session. Despite the disappointment, Jamie will take a distraction in any form at this point.

So, he plasters on a smile and forces Roy on a running tour of Amsterdam. By nightfall, he’s annoyed the grumpy coach into admitting, one, that he’s never seen a windmill and doesn’t believe they exist, and two, that he doesn’t know how to ride a bike.

Naturally this leads to Jamie teaching Roy how to do exactly that. After a series of attempts that are simultaneously humorous, frustrating, and endearing, Roy successfully manages to stay upright, and the two of them bike off in search of a windmill.

For some reason, Jamie finds it in himself to apologize to Roy for making fun of him earlier. He’s also surprising himself when he tells Roy about his childhood visits to Amsterdam. The first involves a suppressed memory of his father taking him to lose his virginity, and the second with his mother, that he actually looks back on fondly. He’s never told anyone about either of these trips - even you.

He supposes Roy could sense this, when he makes an admission of his own; that he’d been taking his anger out on Jamie because he’d found out Keeley has a new girlfriend. That’s all Roy says on the matter and Jamie doesn’t push him for more.

Not long after that, they finally make it to a windmill. Jamie genuinely smiles, taking it as a win when Roy appears mildly happy. If Jamie could tell his childhood self he’s staring at a windmill in Amsterdam with his hero, that kid would probably shit himself. Now Jamie’s just happy they get along at all.

Maybe it's because of the bond they seemed to forge that night, or maybe it's the sleep deprivation, but as they start biking back, Jamie finds himself confiding in Roy about something else.

“Hey, can I get your opinion on something?” Roy doesn’t say yes, but he also doesn’t say no, so Jamie continues, “I’ve been sleeping with this girl-”

Roy groans.

“I know, just hear me out. We’ve been hooking up for a while now, and it's just casual, which is great, but recently she’s been acting weird. I think she’s making up excuses not to see me and it bothers me that she’s not telling me what’s bothering her. But we’re not in a relationship, so why should I care? I mean, I do care. Like, if she’s upset I want to know so I can help fix it. But I care as a friend, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to figure out is how to ask her what’s been going on, without fucking up our situation and making her think I like her more than I do,” Jamie explains in a rush.

Roy discreetly rolls his eyes, “Well, it does sound like you fucking like her.”

“What?” Jamie almost veers off the road, “I do not!”

“Yeah, you definitely do.”

“No, we’re just friends who occasionally have sex,” Jamie states firmly.

“Alright, so if she told you she wanted to stop?”

Jamie hesitates, but eventually responds assuredly, “I’d respect her wishes.”

“And if she wanted to start seeing someone else?”

Jamie’s expression becomes pained.

Roy chuckles as he shakes his head, “I fucking told you.”

Jamie sighs, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I’m not supposed to…like her.” I promised myself. This was not the time for Jamie to spiral, but now his heart was racing. He knew he was too attached to you, but liking you? Romantically? And all it took was Roy fucking Kent to point out the obvious for it to sink in.

“Well, tough shit,” his coach scoffs, “You like her, so what? You think she doesn’t like you? She must if she’s been putting up with you for however long.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jamie rolls his eyes, “And I have no idea how she feels, but that’s not what freaks me out. Its if she does feel the same way, it’ll be real, and when I inevitably fuck it up, I…I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve never met someone like her, and the last thing I want to do is mess things up like I always do.”

“So instead of the risk of potentially getting hurt down the line, you’d rather knowingly hurt yourself now by pretending like you don’t have feelings at all and hope they’ll go away?”

Jamie glances at Roy briefly before letting out a humorless laugh, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Roy nods ruefully, “Yeah. I know a thing or two about that.”

Jamie sits with Roy’s admission. He assumes it's in reference to his breakup with Keeley, and he’s seen how he’s handled that. Maybe he should tell you, and maybe you’d live happily ever after. But there was still a chance you didn’t have the same feelings, especially with how you were seemingly avoiding him. That didn’t really give him a vote of confidence. After a few moments, Jamie’s brought out of his thoughts when Roy surprises him by saying your name.

“It's her isn’t it,” Roy asks, “She’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”

Jamie narrows his eyes, wanting to deny it, but not seeing the point, “How’d you know?”

Roy shrugs, “You’ve just seemed…,” it nearly pains him to say, “Happier, since she’s been around.”

Jamie’s eyes soften, but then turns mischevious. He practically smirks despite the weight of this conversation, “You obsessed with me or something, coach?”

Roy grunts, “Shut the fuck up.”

“I have been, though,” Jamie admits, “Happier. Like I said, I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s so smart and funny, and so goddamn nice, despite some of the shit she’s been through. No matter how hard I try, I don’t think I’ll ever deserve her.”

Roy takes in Jamie’s words thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.”

Jamie chances a glance at Roy, surprised by his words.

“You’re a good guy, Jamie. And she’d be lucky to have you.”

Jamie tries not to be touched by Roy’s compliment, but a small smile finds its way on his face. Not many people have said this about him - he’s not even sure he believes it himself. He doesn’t know how to respond to convey his appreciation, so he just softly says, “Thanks.”

Roy looks over to Jamie and gives him a meaningful nod. “But if you tell anyone I said any of this I’ll fucking deny it.”

Jamie manages a laugh. “Aye aye, coach.”

Despite his insecurities, Roy’s belief in him is almost enough encouragement to want to tell you everything and see where it goes. You had been putting up with him - to borrow Roy’s words. More than that, up until recently, he felt the two of you growing even closer, so there could be a chance it was because you were starting to develop feelings for him, too. He was inclined to believe it was all in his head, but maybe he should start looking at the glass half full instead of completely empty.

While he definitely wouldn’t be professing his feelings to you right away, he was allowing himself to feel something akin to hope.

Wow. Losing an exhibition match, bonding with Roy Kent, and denying but eventually accepting his feelings for you all in one night. When in Amsterdam.

The pair continue to bike down the street in comfortable silence. That is until Roy accidentally veers off the road into the woods.

“Fuck!”

Back in Richmond, you’re doing a horrible job of getting your mind off of Jamie.

You started your evening by watching their match, which definitely defeated half the purpose of not going with them to Amsterdam, but you used wanting to support the team as an excuse. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of Jamie, though, so by the time the game was ending, you were knee deep in making a whole-ass lasagna you definitely couldn’t eat by yourself. After their unfortunate loss, you sent Sam an apologetic text with a lot of emojis. What you weren’t expecting was Jamie to call you, and you felt like not answering would be rude. You thought you could handle a friendly conversation, but then he was saying something about missing you and you were panicking and hanging up before you could process what you were doing.

You knew your tactics of avoiding him wasn’t exactly a nice thing to do. You just were not a confrontational person, and even though Jamie would most likely be cool with, well, cooling things off, you didn’t know how to express that to him. Jamie didn’t seem like the type to be angry at you for just asking for what you wanted, or try to convince you to change your mind, like someone else you once knew, but past circumstances clouded your brain, making it more difficult to try.

So for now, you’d try to find the space to let any feelings go away on their own. Because that will definitely work.

After over-indulging in homemade Italian food, you try to get invested in some good old TV. You try watching something new, not having had time to binge watch as of late, but you couldn’t focus on the plot enough to get invested. So, you tried watching Grey’s Anatomy, per usual, but even the iconic Cristina Yang wasn’t enough to keep your mind off of Jamie. As a last ditch effort, you threw on a trashy reality show but of course that reminded you of Jamie.

Giving up on television altogether, you decide to Facetime your dads and catch up with them. Admittedly, you hadn’t had the chance to have a long conversation with them in a few weeks, only speaking to them briefly over text or quick calls between work and football matches. You were instantly comforted once their faces filled your phone screen, and you vowed never to go this long without speaking to them.

Dad and Pops take turns filling you in on their life in Kansas, from work woes to neighborhood gossip. They also tell you about going to Henry’s soccer games and how well he’s been doing. It warms your heart that he’s most likely taken up this sport in honor of his dad. They also inquire about how work has been going for you (”it’s still really great!”) and whether there’s anything else of note to share (”nope!”). You wonder if they can sense the nervous energy radiating off of you through the phone.

Then they ask you if you’ve been writing at all. For some reason this catches you off guard. It was as if you’ve never heard of the concept. When you first got to England, you’d try so hard to write during your off time. Rebecca has even encouraged you to do so when things were light at work. However, writer’s block was still plaguing you. And recently, all of your free time was taken up by team outings, dinners with Ted, and being with Jamie. But here you are, free from all of those things for the first time in weeks.

After talking to your dads for nearly an hour, ending with a promise to do this more often, you’re hanging up and running for your laptop. You plop down on the couch and pull up a blank word document. To no surprise, you stare at the blank page for five minutes when no ideas come to mind. Normally, this would segue into you opening Google News to see if any little piece of media struck inspiration. When you do this, the first article you see is about AFC Richmond facing another defeat.

You groan, closing the browser immediately. When you’re face to face with the empty page again, you aggressively smash your computer keyboard.

Fuck Jamie Tartt.

For some reason, typing the words out on the page made you feel a tiny bit better, so you keep going.

Fuck him and his stupidly attractive face and his dumb, endearing jokes. Fuck him and his ability to invade my every thought, and the way he somehow knows exactly what to say to make me feel better when I’m sad. Fuck him and his surprising thoughtfulness and his sense of humor that perfectly complements my own. Fuck him for being so good at fucking me, that he’s probably ruined me for anyone else. Fuck. Jamie. Tartt.

You stare at your stream of consciousness thoughtfully. It was like you were making a pro-con list where every con was just a pro you didn’t want to be true. These were all things that drove you nuts about Jamie - the way he became such a light in your life without you giving him permission to. He was supposed to be a safe choice because he was so unsafe. His reputation was bullshit. He wasn’t just someone you fooled around with until you got bored, or he did. He was someone you could see yourself being with forever without growing tired of him.

Okay, avoiding him definitely wasn’t enough while these intrusive thoughts were circling your brain.

You reread the words on your screen one last time, as your hand hovers over the backspace. Before you click it, you find yourself amused by your chaotic ramblings. You even find yourself thinking…this would be a very intriguing first line of a book.

It would take some fine tuning and obviously a name-change, but if you’d picked up a book and this was the opening sentence, you’d absolutely need to know more.

Running with this thought, you start tweaking your words, while you simultaneously try to envision a circumstance for this story outside of your own.

A friends with benefits storyline would be a little too on the nose, but enemies to lovers is always a good trope. Maybe after this first line, you could jump back in time, making readers wait until the book was halfway through to learn the context for this angry thought.

Suddenly, you’re taking all your ideas and running with them. You switch between writing paragraphs, to writing ideas, outlining scenes, and jotting down incoherent thoughts that you’re not sure fit, but could honestly be enough of a thought-starter for a whole other story. No matter how it all fits together, you’re pretty dead set on a romantic comedy angle. You wonder why you hadn’t had the idea for one before, considering it was one of your favorite genres as a consumer. It probably has nothing to do with the lack of romantic-comedy-energy from your last relationship. And certainly there’s no correlation to being able to write one now with the current situation you were in.

Before you know it, it's the middle of the night and you’ve been writing for hours. You’re not sure any of its good, but its something. The one thing you know, as your eyes begin to droop, is that you’re not going to write anything of substance while your energy is sufficiently drained.

You force yourself off the couch, managing to plug your computer in, before you crash on your bed. The next time your eyes open, its 9AM, and with barely seven hours of rest, you feel too wired to go back to sleep, anxious to start writing again. So, you put on a pot of coffee and fire up your laptop. You’re relieved you’d had enough of a brain at 3AM to save your document.

You spend the whole day writing, only stopping for snacks and bathroom breaks. You only become aware of what time it is when someone pounds on your door as the afternoon turns to evening. You hastily save your word doc before sliding over to the door. You should be surprised that Jamie occupies the other side, but you really weren’t. What surprised you was how much he looked like a zombie.

“Jamie?” you arch your eyebrow, as you move out of the way so he can cross the threshold, shutting the door in his wake, “Everything okay?”

“Guess what,” he says with a dopey smile on his face, “Ted let us stay up all night, so I taught Roy how to ride a bike and we saw a windmill.”

Part of you wants to laugh, but the rest of you is just really confused.

“Wait, you didn’t sleep last night?”

“Mhmm,” he nods once.

“God, you should be passed out at home right now. Why are you here?” Your eyes widen, “Don’t tell me you drove in this condition.”

“I ordered an Uber,” he explains sleepily as he takes your hand and tugs you to your bedroom.

Despite your plan to disengage in sexual activities - and all activities - with him, you don’t bother arguing knowing this wasn’t going anywhere while he was this tired. Still, you curse yourself for finding a sleep deprived Jamie very adorable.

You giggle as he plops down onto your bed face first. He manages to hold onto your hand as you stare down at him from beside the bed.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Jamie just mumbles incoherently into your mattress. Giving up entirely, you go to fold the comforter over him, having not bothered to make your bed this morning. “While you are welcome to nap here, I’m sure your fancy bed at home would be much more comfortable.”

As you begin to tuck him in, he turns over suddenly, and pulls you onto the bed beside him.

“Yeah, but you’re not there and I wanted to see you,” he mumbles tiredly, his eyes fluttering up and down slowly.

You allow yourself to bask in this moment, with your face a few inches from his. Sitting up slightly, you gently trace your fingers over his eyelids, coaxing him to sleep.

“Well, now that you’ve seen me, you can close your eyes and get some rest,” you whisper. His face nuzzles against your hand a little before he settles into your pillow.

He mumbles something else, but then you’re pretty sure he’s fully passed out.

Sighing, you push yourself up and out of the bed. Per usual, he doesn’t stir at the movement, nor when you shut the bedroom door as you head back to the living room.

Once you’re alone and back on the couch, you let out a long sigh and rub your face. He does not make it easy, does he?

Even as warmth spreads across your face, Jamie’s words about wanting to see you echoing in your head, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach. If you really wanted to get rid of the feelings you had for Jamie - feelings that were rapidly increasing by the second - you couldn’t avoid him forever.

You were going to have to end your “relationship”.

Suddenly, you’ve lost the motivation to continue writing a romantic comedy for the rest of the night. It was fun while it lasted.

You’re not sure you mean your sudden ability to write again or something else.

A/N: well that’s no good! lol, this was the hardest chapter to do, i rewrote some of it several times, so please let me know what you think of it!

Taglist: @atabigail @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @lil-tracys @shephard17895 @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster @geek-and-proud @grippleback-galaxy @lalla-04p @gabbycoady13 @royalestrellas @qardasngan @creationcitystreet-em @percysaidnever @emily-b @mrfitzsimmons @k-n-e @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25 @escapismqueen @sokkigarden @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @dollfaceyourfear @dicgohargreeves @heyitz-julia @vampirodelascajas @grxcesmind @lizziel1410 @a-sweet-little-fangirl @scaramou @beardsplitter @gcidrvsh @ringpopdust @marveltg365 @optimisticsandwichgladiator it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #distractions series

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lynn-w3st · 3 months

Note

hii! can I request something with Syzoth? (if you write stuff with him in it of course)

can be headcanons or anything you prefer

[idea: maybe something with jealous Syzoth? That is jealous about reader that is not even theirs in the first place? Like they are friends but he wants it to be something more and is just jealoussssss and how he deals with it etc.]

have a nice day, if you don't feel like it - you can turn down this request I won't be mad don't worry :)

MK1: Jealousy At Its Finest

Pairing: Syzoth x Fem Reader

Note: This took me a bit of time to plan. I tried my best so I hope you guys enjoy read it. Also, I started writing down a bit of Babysitting 101.

Warning: Slight Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Johnny being Johnny, Szyoth is Pookie 🥺. Hope you guys enjoy 😊.

Syzoth first met you when you accompanied Kenshi, Kung Lao and Johnny to go confront Shang Tsung but ended up imprisoned in his dungeon. But when all hope was lost, he came and saved not your life but your friends as well.

From that day forward on, Syzoth had became very close to you and formed a deep bond and attachment to you. He became a bit protective since you showed him kindness and gave him a second chance . He vows to always be there for you just like how you were always there for him.

Syzoth knew at that moment he had fallen in love with you. Your kindness and compassion made him feel special and loved by you. He often ask Ashrah on how to court you properly.

Every time you would pass by or simply waved a hello at him, Syzoth would feel his heart race at the sight of your lovingly and gentle smile. He badly wants to express his feelings to you.

But a part of him feels like why should you love a freak and monster like him. He lost his wife and kid to Shang Tsung. What if he loses you the same way . Is he destined to be alone?

Whenever Syzoth isn’t busy with missions, he often times seeks you out and often stays by your side the whole day, watching you work.

Being a medical doctor can be very stressful as you have to deal with a lot of injured monks and combatants. But you really appreciate it when Syzoth assists even if he doesn’t know much about Earthrealmers culture or anatomy.

As a Zatteran, he tries his best to court you by showing off his skills and ability but no matter how much he tries to gain your attention Kung Lao or Johnny steals you away . He gets very jealous on how Johnny or Kung Lao flirts with you or how close you are with the both of them.

“Hey (Y,N)! You should totally be in my next movie. Could use a beauty like you.” Johnny said as you chuckled and gave him a smile as you were hanging up the wet blankets up in the rack while Syzoth was helping you fold them.

“Thanks for the offer Cage but I’m good. I have other things to worry about besides fame.” You said as you smiled as you pick up the basket.

Syzoth gave an intense glare at Johnny and wrap his tail around your waist in which you didn’t mind thinking it was a friendly gesture.

“Oh come on!! You would be a very big hit in Hollywood. Imagine the fame!” He said as you just chuckled but before he you could do say anything else Syzoth stood close behind you and gave the actor a very judgmental looked.

Syzoth doesn’t get jealous often but he can be very clingy of you at times and this was one of them. He didn’t like the way Johnny place his hand on your shoulder but felt relieved when you brush it off and gave the actor a smile.

“Thanks for the offer Cage!” You called out as you and Syzoth left the courtyard and headed towards your estate to prepare some dinner.

Syzoth enjoys spending every moment with you as he is hardly stays away from you as he often helps you with daily tasks and activities. He would have a lovesick smile planted on his face whenever you would hug him. You always thought he was very attentive because how he would accompany you and assist you. Totally not because this how Zatteran court their mate.

Syzoth wants nothing more than to express his romantic feelings for you as he sees this as a second chance for him to have. He wants to marry you and start a family of his own again.

You mean the whole world to him and he would anything just for you even if he has to wait for you at the end of the realms and protect you.

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

Syzoth watch in envy the way you laugh and joke around with Kung Lao who was talking about the shenanigans that Johnny did during training and how amazing your cooking was.

“So you are saying that Madam Bo’s cooking is not good enough for you, Lao?” You tease at him which made him blush in embarrassment. Kung Lao blush in embarrassment as he grab your hand and gave you the puppy eye looks.

“(Y,N) please don’t tell Madam Bo that I said that. She’ll tear me a new.” He said as you just chuckled lightly before poking his forehead. Kung Lao smiled as he decided to confess his feelings for you. “(Y,N) would have the honor to accompany on a date to Madam Bo’s.” He said.

You stared at him with wide eyes but before you could speak something inside of Syzoth snap as he was at your side in an instant and brought you close to him and silently growl at Kung Lao.

“I’m very sorry Kung Lao but my hearts belong to someone else. I see you as a brother and I hope we can still be best friends.” You said sadly as Kung Lao frown but understood you.

Kung Lao knew at that moment that you were in love with Syzoth. His suspicions were now confirmed that you’ve had a feelings for him so that means Johnny owns him a meal at Madam Bo. He smirk at how Syzoth had a possessive embrace around you. He chuckled at the sight.

“Well Syzoth has something to tell you. Let me know when the food is ready.” He said cheekily as he went to go find Raiden and Johnny.

You turn to face Syzoth who frown and averted his eyes before gently grabbing your hands. “(Y,N).” He said shyly and nervously as you gave him a worried expression. “Would you give me the honors to court and mate you. I have loved you for a while.” He confess as you were stared at him speechless with your cheeks heated up.

“You showed me nothing but kindness and gave me a second chance after everything Shang Tsung did to me. I love you very much please allow me to make you mine.” He said softly as you gave him your famous smile that he had fallen in love with. His love for you is unconditional and would do anything for you.

You place both of your hands against his cheeks as you place a gentle soft kiss which made him blush before returning the gesture. The both of you broke away as Syzoth smiled lovingly. He brought you into a tight hug as he nuzzled into you. “I love you, (Y,N). You are my forever.”

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

I tried my best making Syzoth super jealous but sadly I’m a vanilla person when it comes to writing romance. I’m more of a wholesome romantic type of person in general. Spicy romance isn’t really my specialty 🥺😣.

If you guys have any questions or concerns please feel free to message me, I’m always happy to help and available anytime I can.

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 fanfic #syzoth x reader #reader insert #reptile x reader

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iwaasfairy · 2 years

Text

┌─ “ ! „ LOVER, LOVER

tw. noncon, somno, implied size kink, praise, possessiveness, panty stealing, breeding, thoughts of violence, unreliable narrator, yandere esque wordcount. 4.8k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a follower who i'm so very grateful for ♡ thank you thank you thank you for the commission!!! clingy bokuto is just such a joy, i love him so much and i hope you do tooooo!! i really hope you like where i've taken your idea and that you enjoy reading my love! ♡♡♡ and ty ty ty to rhi and yuli beta-ing!

bokuto koutaro x fem!reader

There’s a little glimmer in Konoha’s eyes— but he’s quick to swallow his laugh. “So you’re telling me there’s no you and Bo?” he confirms, thin brow raising high on his visage to almost comical effect.

“There’s no me and Bo!” you quickly say back, trying not to laugh too when the gray haired man’s pretty eyes flick up to meet you. Bokuto’s talking, his loud voice raising the energy in the room to a peak, and you happily watch how he lights up everything around you. There’s so much happiness in his smile, and the way he carries himself, but it’s unmatched by the way he looks when he’s looking at you.

It’s only when you feel the full force of Bokuto Koutaro that you can truly, deeply appreciate him. And the force of nature he becomes when he’s in his element.

“I love him like a friend! But… I’m happy right now. I don’t want to ruin an amazing friendship for something more.” You admit it all while watching him wave his hands around while talking, brighter than anything else in the room. “He knows! I’ve told him.” As if always sensing your eyes on him, he stares back at you for a second, before his cheeks pull up even more and he scrunches his nose your way. And the ashy blond by your side slowly takes a sip from his drink, until you look back at him.

“Did Bokuto retain that info? Because…” he trails off, and shakes his head. You continue to look at your mutual friend for what feels like a while, as he slurps the coke through his straw with an unneeded amount of noise.

“Thank you so much,” your voice barely travels loud enough for the bartender to smile, watching you carry the plate all the way towards the table. Koutaro had thrown the biggest fuss when you so much as suggested staying home tonight, and- you don’t often have the heart to tell him no. Your best friend is splayed out in dramatic fashion over the tables of your booth by the time you make it back— full ‘woe is me’ as he’s about to break the tables under his weight. Something Akaashi is clearly doing his best to avoid, with the white-knuckled grip on the edge of the furniture as he sends you a desperate glance.

“Bo, you’re going to break it,” you just give them a little shake of your head, but it’s enough to have the silver haired giant perking up and looking over his shoulder for you. It’s a surprise even to you that he even heard you over the noise— less of a surprise when he’s picking the plate out of your hands before you can place it down and shoves the thing in front of Atsumu’s nose, and grabs your arm to pull you into his side.

“There’s my favorite girl! Don’t run off without me, I miss you,” he pouts down your way, and you can’t help but wonder how it’s possible that a muscled, grown man like Bokuto is as childishly needy as he is tall. And he is very tall. Despite it though, you’ve only ever known him to be gentle and kind to everyone and everything, a bundle of sunshine on two very muscular legs, and a massive pushover for- well, you. You met Bokuto when you got paired up with Akaashi on a final project— stressed to hell under last year of high school pressure. Keiji was the hardworking, quiet type; and finding Bokuto attached to your hip afterwards was just kind of par for the course.

It didn’t shock you when the light-haired, boyish extrovert took a liking to you— as the type of guy to see the good in everyone. It does still shock you a little that years later, he’s the one claiming the title of your best friend. Even with all the unbridled chaos he carries with him. The -lock pinkies and tell secrets in the dark- type best friend.

Atsumu takes a quick glance your way before holding out a shot toward you, and grins. “Yer goin’ first, aintcha? How’s about ya try outdoin’ Bokkun or Omi Omi for once. C’mere, I’ll make sure ya don’t have to hang out with that sap all night.” It’s just a joke, you know Atsumu well enough by now to know so, but an arm tightens around your waist.

Koutaro’s leaning into your body but staring down at his years-long teammate with a silence uncharacteristic of the tall spiker. His big eyes narrow the slightest bit as the uncomfortable void grows thick. Atsumu isn't even looking, already prompting others to take their own shots in the short time it took for him to get more than tipsy, with a healthy flush and lidded eyes. But you are looking, and it’s strange enough for you to give him a questioning frown over your shoulder.

“Bo?” He doesn’t say anything. “Earth to Bokuto?” you try again, attempting to laugh it off. There’s a thoughtful sort of glaze over his eyes before he grabs your cheeks in his hand and makes you look up at him.

Bokuto’s always been touchy. It’s a fact you had to get used to extremely quickly, when on only your third time meeting, he’d flung his arms over your shoulders and kissed you, backing you against a wall right in the middle of the very busy halls. It had taken Akaashi a lot of back and forth explaining to fix that one, but you like to think you became better friends despite it all. It was forgiven a long time ago. But the way he holds you now, no enthusiasm boiling over, or as much as a smile, feels off. “Don’t listen to him. Don’t drink like that tonight.” The serious tone in his voice throws you off even more, and you roll your eyes.

“Why not? It’s the weekend- We’re with friends.” Whatever he hears in your voice makes his brows tense more. And it makes you mutter softer, “Neither of us are driving either.”

He licks his lips with a strange sort of disdain. You can’t quite place where you’ve seen this version of Bokuto before, but it makes you feel a bit apprehensive, and you say his name again. This time he nods, and even puts on a smile; though it doesn’t reach past his cheeks. “Why get wasted when we can do that any other time, though? I wanna have a good time with you. And I can’t enjoy myself when I constantly have to search the dance floor for you- or check which freak is hitting on you, or trying to do something— You know you become so defenseless.” His voice gets pouty and exasperated quick, and you know he probably doesn’t get that what he’s saying might be hurtful.

It’s fine. This is Bokuto Koutaro, the guy who spent three whole years using every single free opportunity to impress you with his thoughtfulness, and to get you to admit he really was ‘your favorite person’. Even kittens have their claws, so it’s fine. “I’m not planning on getting wasted— and even if I did, I’m a grown woman.” He opens his mouth to talk more, but you’re quick to cut him off by taking his hand and squeezing his fingers with a softer sigh. “I appreciate your worry, Bo, but I’m allowed to have fun.” You expect that to be the end of it.

Bokuto is good at pushing boundaries, but he’s also softer with you. Always was so willing to listen. So you are more than a little shocked when he doesn’t settle down, getting more up into your face instead by staring down with a scorching fire in his eyes.

“No, you can’t. Not when they’re around,” Koutaro harshly replies, low in volume. You slowly brush his hand away to look back at Atsumu for support. The blond surely didn’t hear what was just said, but you’re not sure you’re comfortable with what it’s implying. If it’s implying anything at all— and you look back at your friend with more confusion. But before you have the chance to ask, Kuroo Tetsuro, mutual high school acquaintance and ever the disrupter of the peace, chimes in with a loud cheer and swoops you up into his arms to slam two whole shots down before you with a grin.

“Chug ‘em, or you have to get up on stage with me.” Bokuto’s face fades from your view with Kuroo’s exuberance, the light in his tone instantly calming your anxiety. You don’t want to fight with your best friend over nothing, your thoughts quickly chant, and Kuroo’s a great way to pick your mood back up. “That strip pole is calling our names.” You snort as he slides the glasses even closer, dragging out the scraping noise, and forget about the weird interaction almost as soon as it came.

You’re just being friendly. Bokuto knows this, knows you’re inherently, deeply wired with the ability to make it seem like the person you’re talking to is the most interesting thing you’ve laid eyes on all day. And sure, it definitely wasn’t the first thing he noticed— that probably would have been the way your eyes glistened like two fire beacons with those long, long lashes aimed at him, and then your fine fucking body; he’s a healthy, young-blooded man after all —but it was definitely a prominent factor. Despite your quiet, reserved nature, he’d been glowing coming off of the first time talking to you, like everything he was saying was just so… interesting.

It’s a stretch to call you naïve, because you’re not. You’re smart, like Akaashi is, and you managed to pull the two of them through the disaster of a final assignment upon just meeting them. But there’s something in your smile, in the way you look at the world through wide, inviting eyes that seems to beg for his attention. It makes him want to squeeze you and never let you go, if he’s being honest. He knows he’s supposed to take it slower, knows that for all your kindness, you’re not one to rush into things.

But he’s been more than patient in his eyes, and because of it, you’re now staring up at Kuroo with those pretty giggles and nods that sure as fuck made him fall head over heels for you. He’s not unreasonable. He cares about you enough to allow his friends to get near. He’s trying, truly! But Kuroo’s arm around your waist is a bit too much, blood boiling as he balls his fists so tight his knuckles turn white. The instinct to land his fist straight into Kuroo’s teeth is pushed down with a deep breath, before he wipes those sweaty palms on his pants and makes his way to you with a plastered-on smile. It falters only a little when you look up as he calls your name, and it makes his stomach tie into tight knots.

You’re so fucking good, so pretty, so— perfect; it’s really no wonder everyone else tries to cut in. If he didn’t always feel like his heart was about to swallow him up, he’d understand. You’re magnetic, a vision of his future. If he loved you any less, he might’ve already beaten Kuroo’s face bloody. He likes the guy a whole bunch, but not enough to give you up. He can only dream that you feel the same.

That you think of him when you fall asleep, when you wake up, when you glide your dainty hand into your panties and rub— “Hey, Bo,” you smile at him, before giving him a poke in the chest. It’s an adorable display of how drunk you’re getting, and he has to fight back the glare he longs to send Kuroo for getting you this far in the first place. What if he wasn’t around, if he was preoccupied and hadn’t been watching you like a hawk all evening? But then you lean in a little grin. “Came to find me?”

Of course he did, his mind chants while taking your hand in his, he’d fucking chain himself to your side if you’d allow it. He doesn’t need to say that for it to be clear to anyone watching, right? You’re teasing. So he just pats your head, and pushes himself between you and Kuroo against the wall. “You ran off without me,” his pout is back, and you give a soft ‘sorry’.

“I was going to give ‘er back, Bo,” Kuroo chants to his side, but he doesn’t waste a second looking over. If he does, he still might plant his fist into his face— and you’d get upset with him. And he’d rather hurt anyone who so much as looks at you and then himself than have you upset with him; he really does love you a whole lot, you know? There’s other ways to get you out of here— and you are so very sweet to him when he plays it off. Something about a taxi and an incoming storm is enough to have you collecting your stuff and waving everyone goodnight, letting Kuroo squeeze you in a hug much too long for his liking.

He must show it on his face, because Akaashi’s dark, questioning eyes meet his; and he takes that as the sign to get out of there. He’s getting antsier by the second. And can’t help but get handsy, wrapping his arm around your waist as soon as Kuroo’s releasing you. He bumps his friend aside and smiles over his shoulder without the slightest bit of regret. “G’night, guys!” You don’t get to say bye, and that’s just fine by him. The way he has to hold you up a little to get into the taxi is too, preferable even.

He’s so glad you’re just a little thing, really. Every part of him shows you up size-wise, and selfishly, it makes him think that he was really made for you. To protect you, hold you close. Shelter you under his body when the first drips become a full on shower. He thanks whatever deity it is that starts the downpour then, because a few raindrops run down your lashes and the tip of your nose when you look up at him getting under the overhang. He’s getting too excited, it rolls in waves off of him until he can barely contain himself. You look like everything he’s ever wanted— fuck, and how you smile at him. His hands are itching to push you up against a wall and kiss you until you’re crying out his name, maybe hike your legs up onto his shoulders.

You don’t seem the exhibitionism type, but then again— he doesn’t think you’d fight him on it. Would you? But he holds it in, and waits for you to get out from under the umbrella created by his arms. “Come on in. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to let you head home like this,” you breathe out with a sniffle, pushing at the door to your apartment. You go find some towels, leaving him in the middle of your house with adrenaline running through his veins. Now, he might not be the brightest, but this is an opening, isn’t it?

Akaashi said something about boundaries, and all he can think is that if you’re letting him into your house without a second thought, something must’ve changed. It must’ve. You might’ve turned him down once that while ago, when he was claiming your mouth in the hall— but that was then, and you both are older now, closer. He can’t help but snoop as you search through some back closet for spare clothing; entering the dark bathroom with a little sigh. Like he expected, your products are neatly displayed in the cabinet, hand towels freshly washed and folded, everything seeming more like a hotel than a house. His eyes land on the basket next to the bathtub, and a hot shiver runs up his spine.

Some lacy, frilly panties are just visible sticking out next to the sweater he met you in this morning— going tingly and burning all over his skin. He already can’t help but imagine you bouncing on his cock and tearing up at the stretch when you pout; knowing that this was underneath it is enough to set him up in flames. He glances over his shoulder, before quickly picking out the panties and bringing them up to his face. It smells of feminine products and laundry soap, but there’s a musk that's unmistakably you, and his cock twitches hard in his pants. You wore these for him, didn’t you? He feels himself chub up more the longer his thoughts wander—longing to just wrap the panties around his fist and fuck into them.

But your steps are returning, so he pockets the lingerie with quick hands and puts on his best smile. You peek your head into the door after knocking, cheeks a little shiny and warm as you hand him a towel and some fresh clothing. Big… clothing— that most definitely isn’t yours. It’s fine though, he bites through the sting in his soul, you can’t know how much he adores you, and loves you, and needs you all to himself. He hasn’t exactly made it clear, and you’re also unaware of just how fucking attractive you are, right? “It doesn’t look like it’ll clear up any time soon.” Your smile is gentle when you nod. “So you can stay over if you want to. I don’t mind!”

God, he could kiss you stupid.

His hands are restless by the time the lights are all off, tossing and turning every second longer he has to remain on the extra mattress. Don’t you have any idea of how crazy you’ve made him now walking around in your short, loose fitting pajamas? It’s a domestic dream, and you’re front, center and back in every single thought. As he lays in the silence, there’s the soft sound of your chest rising and falling, of breaths softly slipping out of you— and for the nth time this night Bokuto has to admit to himself that he’s so in love with you it’s making him feel a bit sick.

You didn’t exactly make things easy on him. He still remembers calling up Akaashi every night for weeks after you rejected his advances, when you were struggling to meet his eyes after. And sure, he’d been a bit too enthusiastic. He knows that now, knows he scared you away; you’re shy, he understands. But this time is different. This time he’ll do it right. He sits up on the bed, can see how you’re slumped into the pillow. He could eat you up with how fucking cute you are. But he’s still careful as he calls your name, twice, before slowly getting onto the bed. You barely move, letting out just the faintest breath.

And Bokuto can’t help himself, he’s already leaning in to brush his thumb over your pouty lips. It’s not bad to look. He’s allowed to look. He does that all day already, studies your face like you’re his own personal universe. You would too, if you saw what he sees. Of course, it is a little different, because his cock is straining against the confines of his boxers every second longer he’s touching your soft skin, close enough to place a kiss on the tip of your nose. You breathe out, and he can almost convince himself it’s a moan. It’s enough to have him gripping himself through his shorts and biting his lip, hard. “God, f-fuck, baby.”

He nudges your head a little closer to him, and before he knows it, he's kissing you. There’s so much he wants to tell you— spill all of his love onto you without stopping, but he figures there will be time for that later. He holds himself over you into the kiss, chest heaving and foot tapping nervously up and down. His tongue swipes over yours, claiming you once again, and moaning into it when a little puff of air dusts over his skin. Could you be any cuter, any hotter? Even asleep you’re making him so hard it hurts, one hand moving down to squeeze his balls. It’s embarrassing, isn’t it, and he chuckles into your mouth when you move under him a little. “Sorry, I’ve just wanted you for so long,” he admits, pulls back and lines your neck with kisses too.

All the while your lids stay shut, and he’s careful to untie the front of your pajamas with the softest motions he can manage. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby, I swear. Give you everything.” As he trails his fingers down your body, you wiggle aside a bit, but not enough to escape his now greedy fingers. His cock bops between his thighs when he lands between your legs, and ever so patiently pulls the shorts down the softness of your thighs, swallowing through the tightness in his throat. “Oh, shit—fuck.” You’re perfect, and a shiver goes down his spine at the idea he might be a tight fit.

He can’t help it, he’s already dipping to kiss down your pussy, rubbing you up and down with first one finger, then two. You definitely moan though when he lays a lick on your covered clit and sucks it from the hood, his hips rutting against the bed with a low, rumbling whine. Precum is making his boxers stick to the head of his cock, but he’s much too preoccupied lapping up your folds and making them all messy and wet with his enthusiasm. He’s basically shaking, but how can he not be? He’s been picturing this for fucking years. Through every date, every hookup he’s had— you’d laugh if you knew.

He sucks harder, and slides his long fingers inside you to stretch the clenching, soft walls of your pussy apart; and fucks slowly into the soft of the pillows until that turns too excruchiating to continue. So instead he shoves his boxers out the way and takes the time to fully peel your panties off your legs, then places them apart. His cock is rock hard, flushed and throbbing an angry shade of red at having to wait, before he wraps his hand around himself and allows a few lazy pumps. Just enough for a clear drop of pre to bead at the tip before he’s lifting up your one thigh over his and lining up.

Your pussy is so hot, wet by his doing, and your face scrunched up just the slightest bit. It’s agony, really, baby. His thoughts are barely a strung together mess as the head of his cock slides between your bottom lips, neck and back tight from the adrenaline. This is what you do to him. Every night. He’s gonna cum if he keeps going— and he can’t, he can’t do that to you, not when he’s been dreaming of having you for so fucking long. But leaning down to kiss you doesn’t help, and you let out the prettiest whine when he starts pushing into you.

His breathing speeds up, sweat collecting on his brow. “Oh, baby. Baby, I— fuck, I wanna go slow,” he moans back against your mouth, tasting your tongue, grabbing your tits with one hand. Everything’s fuzzy. But once the head pops in, it’s like a whole other world. You’re so fucking hot, pussy so soft and sucking him in like he belongs there— any thought of taking his time is gone. It’s impossible, his hips start pushing and pushing until he’s bottoming out and your slick, gushing pushy squelches when he pulls back. You’re godly. He clamps a hand down over your neck to keep you from bouncing too much as he pushes back in and drives himself as deep as he can go.

And back out, and then you’re making more noise. “Hmm-ugh?” Your face scrunches up hard when he fucks back into you, driving you open so deep he can feel where he’s hitting in your tummy, and moan long and high. “Ah—agh, Kou? Boku- to, wh—” you struggle to regain your consciousness when he pushes your knees back to your chest and uses his body to fuck even deeper, deeper— clenching around him so tight it’s making him lightheaded.

“I know, baby, I know. S’gonna feel good, I swear,” he’s clenching his teeth together so hard it hurts watching his fat cock push into your tight, little cunt again and again and again, watching slick gush out around his length. He can tell by your strained expression that whatever is going on in your brain is outnumbered by the way he’s pawing at your tits, or bumping his pelvis against that puffy nub.

And you do manage a stuttered, “Bokuto, s-stop,” but it’s hardly anything to be concerned about when you squeal and tear up at the circles he rubs into your clit. “What’re y’ doin, Bo?” Your tears bead so prettily at your lash line. Your body shudders under his when he raises a leg and uses it to fuck into you faster, driving the air out of you with each wet ‘pap’ of skin meeting skin. His balls hit your ass each time he bottoms out, and make his cock feel like it’s going to explode, but he couldn’t stop if he tried. With your brows screwed together and your face all hot and cheeks glossy, it’s hard to think of anything other than fucking you full of his cum.

Of bouncing you on his cock until you’re crying out for him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you so much, ‘m almost there.” He wants to give you everything— fucks deep and hard like maybe that’ll convey his thoughts better. He’s just not that good with words, you see, he’s tried and failed that so many times. But this, rutting into you like your pussy is his personal heaven; and that’s what it is— it leaves you breathless and reaching to dig your nails into his shoulder. He moans and grunts, whispering your name, fucking into your warm clutch until his balls pull tight and his thighs start aching. “Gonna cum, angel. Gonna fuck y’full- you like that, right? You want it?”

He’s rambling out without any collected thoughts, just focussed on watching as you suddenly pull tight like a bow and unravel before him, trying and failing to push his hand from between your legs. “Ohh-fuck— ugh-fuckk~” You cum with an adorable, little whine that makes it impossible for him to hold it any longer. He slumps over you as cum spurts into you, emptying his balls in your tight, little pussy until every last drop is inside. When he pulls back, his hot, white cum runs out like you’ve been entirely fucked full of him— and it makes his tongue drop out to lean in and kiss your cunny until he dies between your legs.

He could go happy, you know? But as he tries to hike your thighs over his shoulders, you must finally regain some of your situational awareness, because you’re placing a foot to his shoulder and pushing him away from you with wide eyes and tears running down your cheeks. “What are you doing, Bokuto? Wh- I- why would you—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he’s instantly cooing, grabbing your ankles and keeping you in place despite your struggling. It’s so cute, but you don’t have to be scared of him. He adores you, baby— wouldn’t hurt you for anything. Everyone else, but never you. “I’ve got you, don’t freak out.” He allows himself to snuggle up to your body, pulling you in nice and close despite the way you’re glaring through your tears. It’s the stress talking, of course, but you’ll be fine. He’ll make sure of it. “You want to come again?”

“No,” you instantly snap, and though you’re pushing at his chest, it’s so easy to keep you nice and warm pinned between his strong arms and chest. You huff a little, and look between his face and your bodies, before breathing out sharply. “Bokuto, please, I—”

“Stop wiggling, baby,” his voice comes out a little too low and sharp for his liking. “Just lay here with me for a bit. And then in a second, I’ll help you clean up, and make you something warm to drink. The whole nine yards, I promise.” He’s smiling, so fucking wide it’s making his cheeks ache. But he can’t help it, you see? You’re such a dream. “I’m so happy, baby. So, so happy, you have no idea.”

As he squeezes a little more, kinda, sorta forcing your face to rest against his collarbones; you finally stop pushing back against him, and let out a soft whimper of his name. “You’re my favorite person in the world, y’know that? I know I say it a lot, but— I really do mean it.”

#bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutaro #bokuto smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #tw.somno #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.bokuto

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salty-croissants · 4 months

Note

Hello, I have a request

Since in the show that Rayman went to college before Eden and all that.

how about the reader and Rayman were good old "college buddies".

Thank you for the request !

I’ve actually been thinking a lot about making a story something with a similar premise , so this was definitely fun to write :D

Hope it turned out okay !

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

friends to lovers ;

no warnings needed

So , as we know Rayman didn’t have it easy before Eden came along and made him a star :

pretty much nobody respected him , with people always mocking him and his appearance … sometimes even choosing to be more cruel by hurting him physically .

All this considered , I think Rayman struggled quite a lot to understand that you were showing him genuine kindness and didn’t consider him a monster like everyone else …

< Can you walk ? Here , let me help you … I’m sure they have something to patch you up in the nursery . >

< Hhh … why … why are you doing this …

Did someone dare you to be nice to me ? Is this a prank … ?

… it’s gotta be , right … ? >

< I understand why you’d think that , Rayman , it’s only natural after all you’ve been through … but I promise you , I’m not trying to take advantage of you in any way .

Now take it easy , just lean on me , it shouldn’t be very far … >

< … thank you . >

After he realized that you were someone who could be trusted , Rayman was simply overjoyed to finally have someone treating him like an actual person , and he quickly grew very , very attached to you :

he would sit beside you when you had classes together , telling you all about his dream of having his very own tv show one day and overall just feeling way more relaxed in your presence …

Tough I can definitely see him being absolutely terrified of boring you and making you leave him .

< Wait … oh god , I’ve been talking for so long haven’t I ?

Damn it - I’m so sorry y/n , we can change the subject if you - >

< No no , it’s fine Ray , don’t worry about it !

I like listening to you , and I really admire how passionate you are about making your show ! >

< You … heh , you mean it ? >

< Mhm , of course ! >

Since Rayman wasn’t exactly … popular among the other college students , you had a pretty hard time defending him from the constant bullying he was subjected to … sometimes even ending up hurt yourself .

While part of him felt happy to see that you were willing to stick with him despite everything , he absolutely hated the fact that you had become a target for mockery because of it … it was something he felt immense guilt about .

< y/n ! Are you okay ??

Your eye - >

< Oh , that ? It’s nothing … just wanted to teach a lesson to that guy that keeps calling you “alien scum” … I’m gonna be just fine Ray , trust me . >

< … listen , I really appreciate everything you do for me , but I can’t stand seeing you get hurt like this .

Maybe … maybe if we … >

< No . I know what you’re about to say . I don’t wanna stop spending time with you because of a bunch of … frankly , assholes .

I’m just … happy to be with you , and no one’s opinion will change that . >

< y/n , I …

Heh , thank you , thank you so much …

We should probably put some ice on your eye though , it doesn’t look too good . >

< Yeah , that sounds like a plan … >

It’s wasn’t long before Rayman started to realize that the feelings he had for you had become something different , and despite being incredibly anxious and worried he decided to try and bring that topic up one night :

you were both in his dorm , studying together like you usually did , but you noticed that he didn’t seem to be very focused on the papers … but on you .

< Hey Ray ? Is there something you’d like to tell me ? >

< Oh - uh … yeah , actually .

I’m just trying to find the right words to say it , since it’s … pretty big . >

You put down your pen , looking at your long time friend with curiosity .

< Well , as long as you’re comfortable with it , you can tell me anything .

I’m be more than happy to listen . >

Rayman smiled at you in response , grateful for your patience and your kindness …

Then he took a deep breath , and finally begun talking .

< Okay … okay .

You see , before I met you I was really starting to lose hope for … everything , really .

All alone , constantly judged by everyone for being different … but you already know all that , so I’ll cut it short . >

His eyes met yours , and the way his gaze softened when he looked wt you made you feel warm inside …

After all , Rayman wasn’t the only one who had developed feelings over time .

< Then you came along …

y/n , you gave me a reason to keep pursuing my goals , and … I know this might sound very dramatic , but you also gave me a reason to … well , live .

Words wouldn’t be enough to describe just what a wonderful person you are , and having you by my side is something that I’m always going to be thankful for . >

He then looked away for a moment , bracing himself for the most important part of his little speech …

< … but it’s more than that .

y/n , I know this is very sudden and I understand if it’s too much to handle … I really should’ve planned this all better , but …

*inhale* … I love you . >

There was a moment of silence following that sentence , and right when Rayman was starting to worry about just how uncomfortable he had made you , his widened the moment you leaned closer to place a gentle kiss on his cheek .

< I love you too , Ray . >

< Wait - you … really ? >

He couldn’t believe it … you actually loved him back ?

A joy he had never felt before overwhelmed him , and when he wrapped his arms around you to hold you in a tight embrace Rayman truly felt home … despite being so very far away from his own home .

< Oh y/n … I’m so happy , I’m so happy you feel the same …

I know there isn’t much I can do , but I promise you I’ll be there for you the same way you’ve always been there for me . >

His words were so loving and sincere , and when your lips finally met in a tender cascade of kisses you felt like both of your lives were going to be different from that moment forward …

As long as you and Rayman stayed together , there was nothing that you wouldn’t be able to face , even if the whole world was against you .

#captain laserhawk #x reader #rayman x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #rayman #gender neutral reader

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shiningshenanigans · 4 months

Text

If I had a nickle…

For every time I shipped a guy and a girl…

Where the guy comes from a semi-privileged background and stable home life (albeit with a very dysfunctional family who is kinda mean to him)…

and the girl is a scavenger who has been fighting to survive her whole life because of a totalitarian regime…

and they’re forced into a situation where they have to work together and kinda start getting attached to each other…

and the guy is HOPELESSLY head-over-heals besotted and in love with the girl and, like, doesn’t even try to hide it…

and the girl… kinda likes him back? But like it’s hard to tell? Because like I said, Girl has been fighting to survive her whole life, and is still very much in survival mode, and her fight-or-flight response is so through the roof right now it’s hard for her to feel that way about anyone at the moment…

also there’s kind of a rebellion/revolution going on against the totalitarian regime I mentioned earlier, and Girl is very focused on killing The Leader of said totalitarian regime, so romance is kinda the last thing on her mind…

but also their love is like this weird powerful force that’s fueling said rebellion, so she can’t really get away from it?

And she acts super cold and indifferent toward him but the second he’s in any kind of danger she immediately throws herself under the bus to save him…

(by the way they balance each other out really well, because Guy is not really much of a fighter, but he’s super charming and good at negotiating with people so he helps Girl grow in that area, cause she’s really bad at it)…

and they’re being mentored by a slightly cynical middle-aged man who “loves a good drink”…

(who totally has a crush on his cute-but-brainwashed-by-the-badguys female superior)…

oh yeah and remember The Leader of the totalitarian regime I mentioned earlier? He’s, like, weirdly invested in their love story and has been watching it unfold this whole time…

(and we don’t really know why he’s so obsessed with them, other then that they remind him of a situationship he was in ages ago, which ended really badly because he was paranoid, so now he’s living vicariously through them while at the same time scrambling to maintain the fragile power of his regime or something like that)…

and he keeps using his power to make them play weird games where he constantly tries to pit them against each other and get one of them to kill the other…

(he actually does almost brainwash the guy into killing the girl at some point, but Guy wakes up and is like “Naw man, I’m in love with her, I will endure endless psychological torture before I do that.”)

and don’t forget, “This series is actually incredibly profound and thought-provoking and has some really deep things to say about freedom and government control and the value of human life, but for some reason nobody wants to talk about those things because all they care about is shipping drama (even though shipping should be a non-issue because the narrative makes it 100% clear who the cannon romance is)…”

…I’d have two nickels.

Say it with me kids…

#thank you for reading this stupid post #once I started I couldn’t stop #sylki #everlark #loki series #the hunger games

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f0point5 · 4 months

Note

You know, I love Seb (he’s the person who got me into F1) and I respect Lewis and his accomplishments but one thing I’ll never forgive them (and a lot of the older drivers, most already retired now) for is how they treated Max when he came into F1.

Yes, he might have been their rival but he was also a teenager, a literal child and gosh… I know Max probably doesn’t really care anymore but I still hurt for him sometimes.

Especially when you consider that he was the one paving the way for his generation. When Charles and Lando and George and everyone else came up a few years later they were welcomed as the youth, the future of the sport. Older drivers talking about their talent and how great it is to see them come up.

Max didn’t get that. He got shouts of “too young”, “too reckless”, “too… too much”.

So no, to me the only real grid dad (or maybe grid uncle is more fitting, idk) will be Fernando Alonso who said that some people are simply ready earlier than others and that Max should be judged on his performance in the races, not his age (paraphrased).

Fernando who has been an idol a lot of the younger generation growing up but also exchanged helmets with Oscar and Zhou, joked with Lando on instagram, talks Le Mans with Max and probably many more moments I’m forgetting about rn.

THIS.

Honestly, I don’t really get the Seb hype. He just has never given me good vibes. I didn’t watch during the RB days so maybe if I’d seen his golden era I’d have gotten attached but he has just always seemed…not likeable. Clearly a very driven, straightforward, intelligent guy, but something about him doesn’t sit well with me. Anyway rant over.

I’m not even going to talk about LH because…par for the course.

Yes, they were all mean to him. As grown men, too, how are you not absolutely embarrassed?! I get that he’s a kid and maybe you don’t want to hang out with him or confront the fact that you’re not the hotshots anymore but omg it’s a CHILD. (And Seb who made a bit of a meal out of being a bullying victim as a kid…I see you.)

No one else of Max’s generation would have survived the way they treated him, I stand by that. They all needed the support they got, and Max had none of it from his peers. I can’t see Max being the type who cared per se, because he was probably already used to being…not ostracised, but like…observed? And also because of how he grew up I don’t think anyone’s words could rattle him. But even if he didn’t care the grown men should have known better.

If I were Max I’d still be laughing about how bitter I made men in their 30s. Like “I couldn’t grow facial hair and y’all were running scared”. But I still think it must have been a pretty lonely few years until others his age started catching up.

I think Max was really lucky to have such a tight team (Christian, Helmut, Jos, Ray, GP) around him to insulate him a bit and stop him getting pushed around but the way these men tried it. (Toto I’m looking at your for the Jos phonecall.)

Yeah Fernando is the only one who I think was ready to embrace the new frontier as it were. But he is just kind of like that. I feel like he doesn’t feel his age is the disadvantage that most do, and that’s why he’s not so afraid of younger drivers. Like, his relationship with Max, Carlos, lando, George (nye buddies lol) and Zhou (literally just today saw a quote of him talking about how nice Alonso was to him, even Lance, he treats them as much as peers as he does his own generation, it’s cute.

Also, this is kinda random but I swear Nico and Max were kind of friendly in the early years? Max has known Nico a long time, despite the age difference (he said he remembered glasses Nico used to wear at like 7, and Nico once went out with his mum?), Nico was on the jet with Max on his birthday in…2017? And I think there’s a picture of Max having flown with some guys (including both Nicos in 2016) and for some reason I’ve always had the idea that Hulkenberg was his link to that whole crew? (Idk if this whole friendship is a headcanon but for some reason I feel like these two are/were kinda connected)

But yeah, agree. Grown men acting like little bitches. That generation I think was the last generation with real bitterness between the drivers, though. Idk you wouldn’t catch me being a jerk to a kid but I’ve never been terrified of a kid before so 🤷‍♀️

#max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso

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roseharpermaxwell · 4 months

Text

RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs - Part Two

I'm such a fan of an AU, and I love how many there are in FirstPrince. Any situation you can put Alex and Henry in, I'm here for it.

Here are many of my favorites so far, 10k+ words. Give the authors some love and let me know if you find something you adore!

And they call it— by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 10k. "You're late, but at least you're wearing a more interesting tie this time," The Dog Sitter says as he opens the door, leaning against the doorframe like he's a GQ model and not a law student slash dog whisperer. Henry's mouth feels incredibly dry.

"Mishap with my socks," he says, then immediately wants to throw himself into oncoming traffic. "I mean, I didn't have any trouble getting them on or anything — I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself."

"Good to know," The Dog Sitter says, looking amused and devastatingly attractive, as always. "David get ahold of them again? He looks at mine like I look at freshly-brewed coffee."

"Yes," Henry says, relieved. "Yes, exactly that."

Creative Differences by @sparklepocalypse. E, 10k. Zahra tilts her head at him, a contemplative expression on her face. “How attached are you to the notion of being a solo artist?”

(AU; Alex is a failed solo musician and Henry's band needs a lead singer.)

Dick, Dick, Dick (You Down) by @everwitch-magiks. E, 10k. It is a truth universally acknowledged that Henry Fox is an absolute dick.

Henry Fox is an A-list movie star, Alex is in charge of the craft services trailer on Henry’s new romcom, and Alex just might be the only person on the crew who has his doubts about the world’s unfavorable assumptions about Henry. Why would Henry be a dick just because he doesn’t stop to talk to his fans every time they crowd him? Henry Fox is probably like most people: not his best self every second of his goddamn life, but decent on the whole.

As filming gets underway, Alex learns both how right and how wrong he is. Henry Fox, much like Alex’s well-stocked buffet at crafty, is a goddamn snack — but he’s definitely not like most people.

(Alex doesn’t feel this specific way about most people.)

You Came Out of Nowhere (And You Cut through All the Noise) by @affectionatelyrs. E, 10k. Alex starts to feel worse about how he reacted to the man earlier — he’s usually all bark and no bite, but how is the bartender supposed to know that? Alex can be snarky, but he’s never cruel.

Allowing his lips to quirk up into a small smile, he replies “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, really.”

“Well,” he says with a smirk, “in the event that you are lying to me simply to placate our earlier interaction, my shift ends in 15 minutes. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to stick around to chat with a perfect stranger?”

Alex’s brain stutters for a moment at his facade being so transparent that it's all he can do to stutter out a “Yeah—um, yeah. Okay, sure.” Maybe he also gets stuck on the words perfect stranger, and the immediate thought of mmmm, perfect indeed that pops up in his brain as a result. He chooses to ignore that as well.

Or, Alex is feeling insecure after a bad date - Henry shows him that he doesn't have to be

Controlled Experiment by clottedcreamfudge. E, 10k. Basically, what it boils down to is this; Alex is mostly sober when he says - to a group of people he barely knows - "Yeah, I might be a little queer, but who knows? I'd kinda like to experiment though, y'know?"

This statement, which is actually something he's thought about a lot, is met by general bobbing of heads, in the kind of bros-trying-to-be-chill way that usually happens when a bunch of straight guys are trying very hard to be non-toxic. That is to say, it's kind of awkward, but they get mad props for trying.

The only person who isn't nodding is Henry, Pez's best friend and the only known gay man in this circle of people. Alex has no clue about the others, but he knows Henry's gay because Pez once introduced him as, "the most handsome man in all of Christendom — and before you ask, no we've never shagged, which is a damn shame. Not for lack of trying on my part, of course, but Henry's one of those gays who thinks it's bad manners to get drunk and have an inadvisable fumble with your best friend for larks."

kiss my collarbone, found my archetype by uptownwarblerr5. E, 10k. English literature teacher Henry starts a new job, and immediately meets law teacher Alex (and in the process, becomes a little bit obsessed). Alex is a clueless bisexual disaster as per usual. Nora and Pez love their stupid friends. Zahra wants to go home.

Arts and Minds by @orchidscript. T, 11k. Henry felt like he was holding the shreds of his career and dignity all in one. The most profound interaction between Henry and the colleague he respected the most – had respected and looked up to since beginning his master’s degree – was now posted online, trending across Twitter, and was now up to 23 million views. Alex showing off and Henry standing there, mouth open like a fish. He wanted to throw up. He wished he had argued back, had said anything. Instead, he had all but swallowed his tongue and sunk back to his laptop, floundering for how to push forward.

23 million views.

Henry should be angry. He wasn’t.

He was going to die of embarrassment. Zahra would make sure of it.

Art history professors go viral, then go to a conference... and there was only one bed ;)

Fox Repairs (and Basic Construction) by floatingaway4. T, 11k. “Yes, so let me get your details and I’ll come over whenever it’s convenient for you,” says the voice. It’s dark and soft at the same time, kind of...velvety...and Alex curses his brain that can’t ask a simple question but can come up with a thousand adjectives for this guy’s voice.

“My details,” Alex repeats, while his brain is busy flipping through a list of similes that would get him fired if he ever put them into anything official. ‘Like honey...like molasses….like sunshine on a cloudy day…’ Nope, that’s a song lyric. He’d get charged with plagiarism for that one.

All Booked Up by @three-drink-amy. E, 11k. A book tearing up the Bestseller’s List is quickly shoved into Alex’s hands via June and Nora. Despite his resistance, he’s taken in by the book and its whirlwind romance. When Nora insists they all go to a reading with the mysterious author, Alex is drawn in by H. G. Fox, hanging on his every word. When they meet after the signing, it sets him on a path he’d thought was impossible.

Try Me On For Size by everwitch. E, 11k. "Yeah, I might be a little queer, but who knows? I'd kinda like to experiment though, y'know?"

Henry’s carefully orchestrated nonchalance melts away in an instant.

He’d been about to do what he always does at these shindigs when the topic of hypothetical queerness is brought up; come out. In this strange little pocket of humanity — this full-volume version of reality filled with red solo cups and many a youth exploring their sexuality — making his preferences known has always been Henry’s most successful first step on his path towards getting laid. And Henry does, truly, want to get laid tonight; he didn’t spend well over fifteen minutes on his hair for bloody Instagram clout. His discreet but unmistakable rainbow wristband isn’t meant to signify allyship.

The thing is, though, that Henry’s personal gay agenda for the night may just have taken an interesting turn; Alex wants to experiment.

In which Alex does experiment, and Henry is a most willing participant.

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by @onward--upward. T, 12k. Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep.

Warmest regards,

ACD

It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

Kinda think that I might be his type by @kiwiana-writes. E, 12k. “Bea.” He clambers onto his knees, grabbing her hands in his own. “Bea, take me to Thanksgiving with you.”

Bea blinks. Blinks again. “What?”

“Bea, I could terrorise your gran until she’s begging you to stay single forever.”

Or, Alex agrees to be his friend's fake boyfriend for a weekend. He is not prepared for his friend's brother.

Countermelody by @omgcmere. E, 12k. On an old tour bus, tucked into the corner of a bunk bed, there's a bit of wood that gets covered up when the particleboard shifts back and forth on the road. If you catch it just after the bus has gone over the right kind of bump, you can shine a light up and find a message etched there, with the tip of a key or maybe a Swiss Army knife.

Alex discovered it within his first week of the tour. He's never told anyone about it. It says:

RULE #1: DON'T FUCK YOUR BANDMATE

Luckily for him, as a solo artist, he doesn't really have to worry about it.

Alex is opening for Henry on tour and, uh, hates him. A lot.

Elevator buttons and morning air by dollarstoreannabethchase. E, 12k. Last night, Alex hooked up with the most attractive man to ever exist after getting stuck together in the elevator of his apartment complex. He's incredible, but the second day of the job that will make or break his career is not the time to be starting a relationship; even if he kind of wants to scream every time he thinks about Henry. So you can imagine his fucking surprise when he walks into the office the next day and sees none other than his Henry—elevator Henry, blue-eyed, British, dreamy, with thighs for days Henry—standing and talking to Pez. It’s in that moment that it all clicks, and Alex realizes. He’s Henry, as in, Henry, his other boss. Henry, his boss, a.k.a. the man who was on his knees in Alex’s bedroom last night. He is so fucked.

Or: Alex and Henry get stuck in an elevator together; Chaos ensues.

coyote ugly series by @smc-27. E, 12k. The bartender, in his mesh tank top, towel tucked into the back pocket of a pair of jeans, leans on the bar, eyes twinkling, and asks, “What can I get you, sweetheart?”

You Are the Wave I Could Never Tame by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 12k. That should be it. Henry is doing his job; the pool is getting cleaned, and Alex shouldn’t think anything more of it. Then why does he feel the slightest bit of disappointment when he walks back to the pool house and Henry isn’t there?

Or, the pool boy Henry AU that I couldn't stop thinking about until I wrote it.

Count The Stars And Constellations by everwitch. E, 14k. Alex and Henry meet at their first Partner Summit. After a single night of warm smiles and intriguing conversation, Henry is more than ready to follow his heart and enter a Match with Alex. But Alex is not.

Meet Your Match by allmylovesatonce. E, 14k. Alex had first learned about soulmarks when he was 10. June had just turned 13 and had woken up that morning with her soulmark. The two of them sat at the dinner table, in awe of the mark on her wrist. It was delicate and pretty. Three hearts intertwined like a triple infinity sign. Alex was almost envious. He wanted to know who his soulmate was so badly and he wouldn't get his mark for another 3 years.

Everybody needs good neighbours by @rmd-writes. E, 14k. To nora(9.37pm):

So a funny thing happened

My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked

From nora (9.38pm):

WHAT

DETAILS NOW

Which neighbour?

Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?!

ALEX

Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.

Captious (calculated to confuse, entrap or entangle in argument) by lucky (revolutionbarbie). M, 14k. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Alex hadn't intended to be 45-minutes late to his blind date, he really hadn't.

Thankfully Henry - broad-shouldered, blond, British and downright beautiful - didn't seem to mind.

written in the stars by @indomitable-love. G, 15k. Henry has always been entranced by the transformative power of stories; the way a happy ending can heal an ache better than any medicine.

He never set out to run a bookshop, but when he’d ended up with an obscenely large inheritance and an expanding cavity in his chest before he was even old enough to drink, there was only one thing that he wanted to do, only one way he wanted to fill the void: he wanted to be surrounded by the one place that had always felt like home – between the covers of a book. No matter the time period or genre, Henry has always found a home in books.

falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme. M, 15k. “Alex?”

The name makes Alex stop halfway to the register and look back. Henry is standing in the same spot, shifting from foot to foot, before he juts his chin out. He meets Alex’s eyes.

“Where are you traveling to?”

Or, Alex picks up a stranger on a road trip, only to realize too late he's the missing Prince of Wales.

Financial and Other Instruments by clottedcreamfudge. E, 15k. “I’m Alex,” Alex says quietly, and something in Henry’s stomach jolts. “I’m a trainee financial adviser — I think you know my mom?”

***

Financial instruments are assets that can be traded, or they can also be seen as packages of capital that may be traded... These assets can be cash, a contractual right to deliver or receive cash or another type of financial instrument, or evidence of one's ownership of an entity.

Alex has owned Henry since the second he laid eyes on him, whether Alex knows it or not.

maybe take me into your room by smc_27. T, 15k. “This is kinda boring, ma.”

She pats him on the cheek, leans in a little closer, and says, “Find something to do, darlin’. You live here. You can’t leave.”

She’s not exactly right, but he isn’t going to argue. Plus, her main advisor, Zahra, comes over. Alex is already a little afraid of her, so he doesn’t feel the need to draw attention to himself by smarting off at the mouth.

She’s still talking to him when he spots this really beautiful guy about his age, and fuck, wow. Okay.

“Not him,” his mom says into his ear, and he doesn’t even… Look, if she knows about the few guys he made out with at parties in Madrid last year when the opportunity arose, this is the first he’s hearing of it. “His dad is the British ambassador. I can’t have you breaking hearts and causing an international incident.”

OR: Ellen Claremont is the US ambassador to Canada. Arthur Fox is the British Ambassador to Canada.

When The Time Is Right by everwitch. E, 16k. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.”

“Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.”

It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.”

Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

you'll be right where i left you by smc_27. M, 17k. He wakes up to a weird noise and - once he realizes he’s not dreaming it - starts trying to figure out where it’s coming from.

He takes a steadying breath and opens the closet door, and the scream he lets out is like, practically not human at all.

He did not fucking expect there to be a man in his closet. A man who is also yelling. Who’s tall, and hot, and wearing what seems like a wool suit, some kind of medal around his neck, and a sash.

OR, a time traveling Henry AU

Tell Me All Your Secrets by everwitch. E, 17k. When Henry dates Liam, he inadvertently learns about June’s brother Alex’s not-so-heterosexual tendencies of the past. But Alex has explicitly told Henry he’s straight. If Alex had the slightest interest in being with Henry, he'd definitely have set the record straight (ha) in regards to his sexuality. Except with pride month just around the corner and Alex making another trip to New York, Henry finds himself reexamining parts of their friendship. Perhaps there is more to their connection than he's ever dared hope for?

Or: the one where Alex and Henry go to New York Pride.

Fate Marks the Spot by @preppymayhem. T, 17k. Alex Claremont-Diaz wants absolutely nothing to do with Prince Henry of Wales and would be completely happy to never speak or be in the same room with him again.

Except for the tiny fact that Henry bears his mark.

A/K/A: What if Alex and Henry were soulmates, literally.

The Art of Falling in Love by floatingaway4. M, 17k. Alex Claremont-Diaz is a struggling actor, but his next role might be his big break. To research the role, his agent connects him with her friend at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The employee assigned to show him around annoys Alex before they even meet.

Will they ever learn to get along?

(Spoiler alert: Yes. Yes they will.)

Cursed is a State of Mind by @dustratcentral and @welcometololaland. E, 17k. Alex Claremont-Diaz is well aware that he’s an absolute catch. He’s intelligent and quick witted, has an ass that absolutely refuses to quit and was once voted ‘most attractive law student’ in a slightly irresponsible and probably unethical NYU student magazine poll.

Which is why he finds it super fucking weird that his new roommate, Henry, thinks his caffeine consumption habits are a bit off-putting. So what if he has some unconventional drink choices? It’s not like Alex can’t vehemently defend all of them.

5 times Henry has something to say about Alex’s coffee choices and 1 time he says nothing at all.

team henesmee series by @coffeecatsme. E, 18k. Henry isn’t home when Alex returns from his weeklong trip to his father’s lakehouse in Texas.

There is, however, a bat hanging from their fan, wings curled around its little body, a drop of drool clinging to his lips. Sleeping.

“Huh,” Alex says, tilting his head. “I didn’t know vampires could actually turn into bats.”

Or, 5 times Alex learns something new about Henry and 1 time Henry learns something new about Alex.

Luck of the Draw by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates). T, 19k. Henry isn’t an artist, but he runs an art studio. Alex isn’t in a bridal party, but he’s arranging a bachelorette.

Neither of them are looking for love, but when life gives you lemons, you throw them in the fruit bowl and find yourself the man of your dreams.

The Beginner's Guide to Floristry by clottedcreamfudge. E, 19k. As if there's anything romantic about it; as if it's not the most humiliating death Alex can imagine. This is why he doesn't do relationships. This is why he never will. The risk, as far as he fucking sees it, is too great.

Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible.

Route 11 by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates). E, 19k. Alex thought the New York City subway was a cursed public transport system. That was before he moved across the Atlantic and took the route 11 bus every day.

A public transport love story told in 11 parts.

My Songs Know Secrets You're Sick of Keeping by ma_lark_ey, paythe_piper. T, 19k. "How about this," Alex offered, "If I win AOTY, I announce Henry and I in my acceptance speech. If I don't, we do it your way."

OR: Alex is a world famous pop punk star, Henry is still the Prince of England, and the public is onto them.

A Practical Arrangement by @kiwiana-writes. E, 19k. “I know.” In fairness, he didn’t ask his mom to delay the wedding after the betrothal was made official when he turned eighteen. It wasn’t that she expected another option to materialise—he’s pretty sure she was trying to give him and Henry more time to get to know each other, maybe move past their open animosity a little. They’ve been pushed together every few months for the last three years, their marriage an inevitability. “I just… I still can’t quite get my head around it, you know? Married. To Henry.”

All the Old Showstoppers by @cha-melodius. E, 20k. “Dunno, kinda looks like you know what you’re doing. Are those macarons?” Alex asks incredulously after a little while, and a moment later Henry sees him start slowly approaching out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t know princes could bake.”

“I’d wager not many of them can,” Henry replies as he works, letting one corner of his mouth tug upward.

(In a universe where Alex didn’t go to the royal wedding, three years later Alex and Henry find themselves both competing on an episode of The Great Celebrity Bake Off. Will old hostilities lead to disaster, or is there something else causing all that tension in the tent?)

i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme. E, 20k. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.”

“Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.”

“Yes, well, the previous occupant—”

“Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room.

Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard

For all the world to see by everwitch. E, 20k. Henry Fox — bestselling author, mystery millionaire and infamous recluse — never gives interviews. So when June is tasked with writing a profile on Henry, Alex agrees to help her. How? By posing as Henry’s next-door neighbor, charming his way into Henry’s life for the purpose of obtaining some real substance for June’s article. Eat the rich, right? What could possibly go wrong?

i wake with your memory over me (that's a real fucking legacy) by coffeecatsme. E, 21k. The ski instructor stops in front of him, takes off his goggles, and Henry about stops breathing for another reason. “Hey,” Alexander says with a grin, his face distinctly lacking in wrinkles Henry was expecting from a renowned instructor. There’s a bright grin on his face that rivals the sun, rich brown curls spilling out of a red beanie, and Henry realizes he’s absolutely fucked for a whole other reason than his inability to figure out how to stay upright in skis.

Or, the one in which Henry is hopeless at skiing despite his family's aspirations, and Mary hires Alex as an instructor to amend that.

we might just get away with it by smc_27. E, 21k. Henry is the most gorgeous man Alex has ever seen. And Alex has seen a lot of gorgeous men. He’s a fucking model.

“This is Henry Fox-Mountchristen,” Prada’s current PR lead says, and Alex smiles and pushes his hand out. “He’s a journalist covering the merger.”

Alex doesn’t know what merger or what it would have to do with Paris Fashion Week. But he does know that Henry holding a glass of champagne as he shakes Alex’s hand is maybe the sexiest thing ever, and there is just no explanation for that.

“Hi. I’m Alex.”

Henry says, “I know,” and then does this weird, forced smile at Bianca and walks away.

Alex doesn’t know how to like, not be completely obsessed with things he wants.

OR, Alex is a model. Henry is a journalist, and a bit of an asshole. Alex wants him anyway, even when it doesn’t feel good.

Fractured by clottedcreamfudge. E, 23k. Alex has been in the New York PPC for seven years, and it's seven years too long. He's not looking for his Half, because he isn't half a person. The Algorithm can kiss his sweet, Texan ass.

He doesn't need anyone - leggy, blond, or otherwise - trying to change that.

The Snow Prince by @orchidscript. M, 24k. Two little boys meet in a dream that isn't quite a dream.

Years later, two young men dance at a ball without touching.

A governor's son falls in love with an isolated prince who cannot be held.

A winter fairytale inspired by folktales, fairytales, and other stories. Alex and Henry meet twice, then fall in love a decades-old curse. When the threatened effects begin to come true, Alex endeavors to break it.

in summer air series by Standinginmoonlight. M, 25k. There’s something magnetic about Henry, though, and his feet feel like they’re rooted to the spot. He opens his mouth again and decides to just go with it. He’s on vacation, after all. Whatever fucking goes.

Or: the one Alex Claremont-Diaz flies halfway around the world to find himself and ends up finding Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor instead.

One Wild and Precious Life by @sprigsofviolets. T, 26k. In 2015, Arthur Fox was diagnosed with cancer. He went into surgery to have a tumor removed from his brain, and fell into a coma.

Nine years later, he wakes up.

Clue Me In by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 27k. Henry and Pez’s new shelter is opening in Brooklyn, and Henry is determined to spend the entire night avoiding Alex, while Alex is determined to do the exact opposite of that.

Cracked Heart by @absoluteaudacitywrites. E, 28k. Liam takes a deep breath in and out. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I’ve thought a lot about this and I don’t want to hurt you but it’s the right thing to do.” He pauses, taking another deep breath. “We need to break up.”

after hours by @dumbpeachjuice. M, 28k. “Spend the night with me. I’ll show you around the city, take you to all my favourite haunts. Give you a sample of what the real New York is like,” Alex explains, altogether far too casually to excuse the speed with which Henry’s heart has set off galloping. “Maybe you’ll even change your opinion that we Americans have no taste.”

Henry’s mouth feels sort of dry, so he swallows a large gulp of his new martini down and immediately chews through both olives to stall for time. “Why on earth would I do that?”

Alex shrugs. “It’ll be fun. I’m an excellent tour guide. I have references.”

The Byline by @rosetintednerdglasses. M, 28k. Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.

Every Star That's Ever Fallen Knows the Way to Where We're Going by @dracowillhearaboutthis. G, 29k. When Henry’s family moved in next door when Alex was four years old, Alex was not a fan.

In Your Orbit by everwitch. E, 30k. Alex, a third year student at the pilot academy — and more importantly the son of the First Commander of the Unified Systems — finds himself kidnapped by a duo of interstellar smugglers, Henry and Pez. The two space fugitives soon turn out to have a plethora of problems; between a severe illness, a freighter that keeps falling apart, and a meteoroid storm raging outside, they're in quite a pinch. Alex reluctantly comes to their aid, if only to make sure they all get out of this alive.

The thing about Henry, though, is that despite everything, he doesn’t actually seem cruel. He seems the exact opposite of cruel.

muscle memory by stutteringpeach. E, 30k. It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen.

But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.

Double, Double, Acting Trouble by @welcometololaland. E, 30k. Due to no fault of his own, Alex Claremont-Diaz winds up in a theatre class.

Due to every fault of Percy Okonjo, Henry Fox Mountchristen-Windsor finds himself roped into the very last thing he ever wanted to do - following in his father’s footsteps by being thrust onto the stage. OR

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece as Alex and Henry fall in love while performing the Tragedy of Macfish.

Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come by @sparklepocalypse. E, 30k. "For Christmas this year, all I would like is a best friend who doesn’t mind too much that I’m a prince. Most of my classmates poke fun because of who I am, or treat me like I’m too special to be their friend. I want a best friend who knows me as much as my family does and still likes me. I know that you can’t wrap a best friend up in a box and put it under the tree, but you’re magic so you know the best way to bring one."

(Movieverse canon divergence; Prince Henry, age 8, writes to Father Christmas wishing for a best friend. A few weeks later, he finds one.)

it's you and me by smc_27. M, 31k. He can’t fucking wait to see everyone. To hug Bea. To have Catherine tell him he’s handsome and tap his nose with her index finger like she’s always done. For Arthur to make some inevitably fucking terrible joke about Alex bringing two duffels and a carryon. He also honestly can’t wait to see his mom and Arthur together.

Alex just really needs this summer. He needs time away, outside of Texas, with his family and the people outside his family who know him best.

or, an indulgent summer fic in which Arthur and Ellen are best friends and their families summer together in California

Nebuchad-never had a friend like me by clottedcreamfudge. E, 32k. When the dragons came, it was like nothing the world had ever seen before – and it hadn’t been anything like the movies either. There weren’t great, leathery wings beating up hurricanes and pinpricks growing larger on the horizon until sharp, white teeth became visible; there were no screaming citizens or calls to arms; nobody saw them coming, because they didn’t come the way Hollywood had expected them to.

The dragons had, instead, crawled out of the earth, just hatched and hiccupping smoke, barely old enough to support their own heads.

The world had fallen in love in an instant.

Waiting in the Wings by DracoWillHearAboutThis. M, 33k. Henry had always known he would end up in an arranged marriage.

He had not expected, though, to end up in an arranged marriage with Prince Alex Claremont-Diaz, who he'd secretly been in love with for the past fifteen years.

when i need to get home by smc_27. E, 35k. He drives the car he’s rented up the lane and half wonders if he’s just exhausted or if the place actually looks as bad as it does.

Oh. Oh god. Christ. What’s he gotten himself into?

He can’t help thinking if Jean knew her home had fallen this far, she would’ve been heartbroken. He’s not going to let her home sit like this. He’s going to fix it. For her, yeah, but for him, too.

or: Alex inherits an English country home, and Henry lives in the cottage next door.

Seven Years by @welcometololaland. E, 35k. Seven different places, seven different timelines, seven different meetings, seven different Decembers.

And still, Alex and Henry find each other in every universe.

Take me where I cannot stand by clottedcreamfudge. E, 36k. Henry blinks at him. “Galactapol?”

“Yeah, you know – the Intergalactic Peace Force?”

“Yes, I know them,” Henry says drily, “but you said—”

“We don't have a lot of respect for them around here,” Alex informs him succinctly. “If that's the kind of line you wanna take, then maybe—”

“No, no,” Henry says hurriedly, straightening up. “Galactapol. I like it. Catchy, even.”

“Read the contract or don't, Fox,” Alex says firmly, pressing his own hand to the line of studs between the engine room and the lower corridor. “I can find another engineer if I need to, but you'll never – and I mean never – find a ship like this again in your life. Jackie's one of a kind.”

Space, smuggling, and a ship called Applejack. Everything's shiny.

Before This, After That by @orchidscript. M, 37k. Henry Fox is lost. After suffering a serious injury from horseback, he struggles through the pain, depression, and frustration inherent with long term healing. Giving up is easier.

Discontent to leave him so unmotivated, the Fox siblings go in on a new solution: a private, personal physical therapist. Enter Alex Claremont-Diaz. He comes with glowing referrals, top of his class in all his degree programs, a sparkling personality and dug-in stubbornness to match. If anyone could light a fire in Henry again, it would be him. Right?

Most People Exist by SprigsofViolets. T, 40k. Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz.

into the spotlight by indomitablelove. E, 40k. Alex Claremont-Diaz is a star on the rise.

A wildcard up-and-coming new actor who finds himself thrust into the Hollywood limelight when he’s nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Actor for his small-budget indie movie. It’s his more than he could have imagined in his wildest dreams. That is, until he discovers that also in his category is his mortal enemy: Henry Fox – generically attractive, completely boring and part of an acting dynasty that stretches back generations. In short, everything Alex hates about Hollywood.

So when a comment Alex makes about Henry in an interview goes viral, and the two find themselves thrust together through awards season, Alex can’t help but think his dream has become his worst nightmare.

Except, maybe – just maybe – Henry isn’t quite what he seems.

Down For the Count by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates). E, 40k. Alex came to Las Vegas to count cards, not feelings. Henry came to win it all.

Is it possible to find something real in Sin City, where nearly everything isn’t as it seems?

Goodbye reality, hello Vegas (the blackjack/poker AU).

What's Up, Danger? series by @cultofsappho. E, 41k. “How thick do you think I am, exactly?”

Alex mumbles something under his breath that sounds like, “Got away with it this long, didn’t I?”

Henry’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “I’m sorry, are you bragging about lying to me?”

After a long pause, Alex says, “...No.” slowly.

“Hm. Thought not.”

In which Henry can’t recognise the sound of his own boyfriend’s voice, Alex isn’t as good of a liar as he thinks he is, and living with a superhero is both exactly, and not at all, what Henry thought it would be.

In Any Universe by SprigsofViolets. T, 54k. Boy Meets Boy.

Boys Become Friends.

Boys Fall in Love.

The Red White and Royal Blue Heartstopper AU that no one asked for.

Camp Llwynywermod by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 56k. The first night of camp with Henry is always weird. Weird in the sense that they haven’t seen each other in nearly eleven months, but Alex knows that Henry has been thinking about him in the months leading up to camp. Alex is guilty of it too; often the first thing he thinks of after applying to be a counselor is seeing Henry, Henry and his stupid blond hair and stupid English accent and stupidly gorgeous face, and thinking about just how he could outdo him in pranks this year.

Alternatively, the camp counselor AU that nobody asked for.

Fall Into You by lucy_in_the_sky. E, 56k. Alex is smart and witty and kind and clever and driven…but graceful, he is not. Several stints in the ER within one semester can confirm this unfortunate fact. The only good thing to come out of wracking up his out of pocket co-pay is the gorgeous nurse with beautiful eyes and a killer smile. Maybe breaking several bones is kinda worth it.

Basically: several times Alex was a clumsy wreck and Henry had to patch him up.

The Arrangement by cmere. E, 58k. “Gran sat me down the day I finished my A levels and made it abundantly clear I was not to let anyone know about any deviant desires I might be beginning to harbor that might reflect poorly upon the crown, and there were appropriate channels to maintain appearances if necessary.”

Shaan approaches Henry with a deal from the Queen: agree to an arranged marriage with a woman to flaunt in public, and he can enjoy the services of a male escort in private. Alex comes storming into Henry’s life with sparkling brown eyes, a mischievous smirk, and a challenge, and Henry struggles to maintain control of his emotions as boundaries begin to blur.

Alex doesn’t actually care about him; it’s just a job. Right?

Down By The Water, I Saw You by @myheartalivewrites. E, 63k. “Henry straightens up, head snapping over to look at the new arrivals. Then there’s the sound of a voice he’s not heard in ten years, a voice he never thought he’d hear again.

“Fuck, I can’t cook tonight. I think I’d rather starve.”

Henry stares, mouth dropped open. A head of curly brown hair turns slowly his way and his heart explodes.

“Henry?” Alex says, and Henry can’t bring himself to reply, so he just keeps staring. Alex looks at him for a few more seconds, eyes wide, blinking furiously, before swiftly turning on the spot and walking away from him and into the woods, but not before Henry can see the distraught look on his face.”

Henry and Alex first met and fell in love as teenagers, while on holiday in Jamaica. Ten years later, they run into each other again, and have to deal with the emotional fallout of how things ended last time. And fall in love again along the way, of course.

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) by @kiwiana-writes. E, 65k. Alex is a former child star struggling to make the transition into being seen as a serious actor. He jumps at an opportunity to perform on stage in the UK, seeing it as a way to break free from the typecasting and show what he can really do. But he wasn’t prepared to star alongside someone he hates.

Henry is a recent theatre graduate who accepts an amazing role in a queer reimagining of Much Ado About Nothing. And then it turns out his co-star is none other than the man he’s been hopelessly pining after for years—even though Henry made a terrible first impression when they met.

It’s… well, it’s practically Shakespearean.

You Know I Love a London Boy series by @three-drink-amy. E, 66k. When Alex has a break off of work, he decides to get away and spend that time in London. On his first day there, he meets Henry and sparks immediately fly between them. As they spend the summer together, touring the city and enjoying each other, Alex continues to keep a very big secret about himself: who he really is.

Nova, Baby by chamel. E, 66k. Agent Henry Fox-Mountchristen is an asshole.

Alex is 90% sure those exact words are going in this mission report. Yeah, they’re supposed to be objective when writing this shit up, but that isn’t his opinion. It’s a fact.

(CIA agent Alex Claremont-Diaz and MI6 agent Henry Fox-Mountchristen don’t exactly get along, but that doesn’t keep their respective agencies from insisting they work together as partners. Then a mission in Colombia changes everything, and their relationship begins to shift and grow into something that neither of them ever expected… and something that could have deadly consequences.)

Shatter Me by @historicallysam. M, 67k. Henry is resigned to the life he's meant to lead until he meets a man so full of happiness and life that he's got no choice but to confront the secret he's been keeping for years.

Deep Blue by myheartalive. E, 76k. “I picture myself in a small house by the sea, overlooking the water. Writing and reading all day and taking David on long walks and swimming everyday. Somewhere really quiet, where there’s not a lot of people. And where nobody thinks of me as Henry Mountchristen.”

Fed up of working under his grandmother, Henry quits his job in London, dropping everything for a writer’s life by the sea. He’s desperate to focus on his work and produce something worthy, but a mouthy American with a beautiful smile and a chin dimple has other plans.

But I love him, whether or no. by @leaves-of-laurelin. E, 77k. Henry moves to New York City to help Pez with the opening of his new bar in the East Village. The location—fortunately for business, but unfortunately for Henry’s sanity—is directly across the street from a fire station. The sound of sirens is bad, Alex the gorgeous firefighter is worse. But when Alex helps Henry avoid a near catastrophe the night of the bar’s opening, the two form a tentative friendship that starts to develop into something more.

I'm Taking A Ride With My Best Friend by @cultofsappho. M, 79k. When Zahra, the leader of the Fireflies, makes a deal with Alex to smuggle some guy outside of the D.C. Quarantine Zone’s walls, Alex immediately says no. He doesn’t move people, not anymore. Not since his ridiculous, and definitely past-tense, savior complex got him into hot water with June.

What could possibly be so special about some scrawny refugee? When he had his gun pointed at Henry, the expression on Zahra’s face was not one he’d ever seen on her before. She desperately needs him alive. For once, just this once, Zahra isn’t the savior today. It’s Henry.

“What’s so important about him?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. He’s just cargo, Alex.”

Alternate Universe - The Last of Us

Never a Guarantee by clottedcreamfudge. E, 87k. Henry – Prince Henry, third in line for the throne of Windsor and Alex's goddamn betrothed – has very soft hands. Alex knows this because he is literally holding them in his, both of them standing in front of just about everyone with a title in either of their two kingdoms, while a man in an extremely large hat has them repeat oaths and other things Alex has been learning by heart since he got engaged.

Looking back on their time at the altar, Alex should maybe have read a little more into the way Henry kissed him like it was the last time.

the poem you make of me by cmere. E, 91k. "Just, you know," Henry says. "If your mum weren't the president and you were just a normal bloke living a normal life, what things might be like? What you'd be doing instead?"

After being discovered on Instagram as a teenager, Alex Diaz is thriving as a social media influencer and model who just landed a high profile, high fashion contract with Calvin Klein. Alex can get any girl he wants, and he’s loving it. Meanwhile, British poet Henry Fox has just arrived in L.A. to kick off a North American tour promoting his new, steamy book of gay erotic poetry, and he’s attracting a lot of attention.

Bad blood is immediately sparked between them when Henry blows Alex off at their first meeting. Several tabloid rumors and an Instagram tantrum later, Alex and Henry are reluctantly thrust together to make nice, resulting in a grudging friendship and a magnetism between them that Alex can't explain. Why is Henry's poetry making Alex feel like this? And just what is it about Henry Fox that gets to him so much?

(our last summer) memories that remain by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 91k. Fresh out of law school and fresh out of a relationship, what Alex Claremont-Diaz needs most is a goddamn vacation. He plans to spend his summer on a small island off the coast of Wales, three months of peace and relaxation and figuring out what the hell he actually wants to do with his life. But all that is thrown out the window when he runs into his ex-fling, Henry Fox, who just so happens to be running the hotel he's staying in for the next three months.

Four years prior, Henry Fox meets the most beautiful boy he's ever seen at an NYU party: Alex Claremont-Diaz. Henry soon finds himself whisked away to Texas with Alex, a summer full of poetry and skinny dipping and stolen kisses, and everything is perfect. Almost too perfect for a summer fling. Yet Henry can't stop himself from falling in love with Alex, falling for the lake house and everything Alex loves, even when he knows it's too good to last.

Two summers, two places of falling in love, one filled with memories of the last. It leaves Alex and Henry wondering: is this summer truly going to be their last one together?

A Long Way From the Playground by allmylovesatonce. E, 96k. Henry and Alex were best friends growing up until they went to separate colleges and they grew apart. When they see each other again as adults, against the odds, both living in the same city again, will it be a joyful reunion or will the pain of the years apart get in the way? How do you become friends again when there is so much of the past in the way?

Peaches and Cream do Sexy Murder series by @dumbpeachjuice and @clottedcreamfudge. E, 103k. There are precisely three things Henry knows for absolute certain:

1. There is nothing that can’t be solved by a good cup of tea.

2. His dog, David, is probably the person who loves him most in the world, and that is because Henry is the provider of sausages.

3. His sister would do anything for him, including, but not limited to, murdering his wanker of an ex-boyfriend.

Or, Henry is a witch with a slew of dead ex-boyfriends, and Alex has a badge and a gun.

The Consequences (Of our Actions) series by @anchoredarchangel. E, 135k. "I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.”

Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-”

“My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah."

Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part One

RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part Three

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

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gimyeongbestboy · 7 months

Text

Now Playing: Interview with Jujutsu Kaisen Cast

A/n: this is written in a script-like format. Basically kind of like watching an interview video in youtube or smn. This one is basically branching off from this fic.

Characters include: Sukuna, Toji, Geto and Gojo

[Today's Guests: Jujutsu Kaisen's "Big Boys"]

Gojo: Hi, I’m your good looking sensei, Gojo Satoru. (Gojo playfully winked at the camera)

Geto: I’m your resident curse manipulator, Geto Suguru. (Geto introduced himself with a soft and gentle smile)

Sukuna: I’m the King of Curses, Sukuna Ryomen.

Toji: And I’m the sorcerer killer, Toji Fushiguro.

[Today, these four men will be answering five BTS FAQ’s fans have regarding the hit show, “Jujutsu Kaisen”]

[First question: Is Sukuna Ryomen related to Yuji Itadori?]

Gojo: Oh! A lot of people really want to know the answer to that. (Glances at Sukuna)

Sukuna: He and I have got quite the spitting image of each other, huh? Am I related to Yuji or not? In what sense? In real life or in the show? You know, not long ago, he and I actually went on a trip together. We went to Maldives, and we came across Todo.

Gojo: How was it?

Sukuna: Honestly, it was so fun. We went scuba diving, snorkeling, watched some dolphins and whatnot. Oh you know, Yuji is actually a really good swimmer believe it or not. (Laughs) The seafood was really fresh too, and then at some point Yuji started craving wagyu.

Geto: We should go there together.

Toji: A guy’s trip? (Looks around at Sukuna, Geto and Gojo as they all nod to each other).

Sukuna: Anyways, we’re twins, or it’s what people like to say. I can’t give you a proper answer if you don’t specify. (Smirks at the camera as he shrugs).

Gojo: All that information about their trip, and he still wouldn’t say. (Amused)

Toji: A true menace. (Nods)

Producer: Your castmates, surely know, right?

Geto: (Teases) Do we though? Do we?

[Second Question: Was Toji’s reaction to Gojo losing it real?]

Toji: I’m guessing they’re talking about the fight. We were flying, huh? (Looks at Gojo).

Gojo: It was so fun filming that! We had harnesses attached to us pretty much the entire time—flinging us everywhere. I bet none of you guys ever felt like what it’s like to fly, huh? (Playfully smiles at the camera)

Sukuna: Other actors that filmed something similar?

Geto: People on amusement rides?

Gojo: You know what I mean!

Toji: Anyways, when we were all doing the script reading, we kind of get into our characters and deliver our lines with voice acting to prepare for the scene we’d film. During that time, Gojo delivered his lines really well, but when we were filming? Gojo… really seemed like he was losing it. (Laughs)

Gojo: What can I say? I slay✨

Sukuna: He was quite drunk when filming that scene was he not? (Smirks knowingly)

Gojo: (Whispers to Sukuna aggressively) Bro, shut up.

Toji: He was drunk? (Surprised)

Geto: After you guys filmed all the action scenes, we gave him a shot of alcohol before you guys filmed the scene where he was “lucid”. He’s very lightweight (smiles as he points to Gojo).

Sukuna: It was a shot for a shot (lightly giggles)

[Third Question: What did Gojo say to Suguru?]

Gojo: This is like that one question asking if Sukuna is related to Itadori. (Laughs).

Geto: Even on the script itself, his line was literally just a line.

Gojo: I had to think of something to say during filming, because they needed that scene of me saying something to Suguru. I didn’t know what to say because in the script it was just a line— a dash. So, during filming I just simply said, “I want kikufuku.” (Laughs with amusement)

Geto: I almost pulled some kind of face, but I had to hold it in (Laughs).

[Fourth Question: Are the twins Geto’s actual daughter?]

Geto: The twins are not my actual daughter, but the little girl that played Rika is.

Sukuna: Isn’t Megumi also Toji’s actual son? The set is filled with real life parents and children. (Laughs with amusement).

Toji: How did she get casted?

Geto: Basically, the director wanted to film the fight scene between me and Yuta first, and the little girls that were casted before her got scared of me during the fight scene. They had to re-cast like 3 times. They all ended up crying, and then eventually my daughter said, “Oh! Let me try!” The director liked how it turned out, so they just did all the scenes with her.

Sukuna: Wow, you out there making children cry, huh? (Says teasingly)

[Last Question: What’s the best part about filming?]

Sukuna: For me, it was definitely working with Yuji. That kid, I’m not even going to lie, is fun to be around. Although sometimes, he has too much energy. He’s very goofy and definitely brings a fun and light mood to the set.

Toji: I tend to have a very busy schedule, and so does my son— especially with both him and I being in the same industry. Though it was only for a short while, I’m glad filming Jujutsu Kaisen together gave us more time to hang out.

Gojo: For me, it would be the amount of team work that we’re all putting in to make this show a success. Everyone is honestly so easy to work with. I know Sukuna seems very menacing in the show, and maybe in real life too because of his tattoos, but he’s actually nice. (Laughs) Honestly, I’ve made quite a few new friends working on this project.

Geto: Honestly, it’s nice to be able to work on a project with Satoru again. Last time we ever worked together on the same project was when we both walked the runway for one of my wife’s collections— maybe 7 years ago? Yeah, and my wife being involved with the outfit production and my daughter being on set, it kind of made the set more comfortable to be in.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen toji #sukuna #toji fushiguro #ryomen sukuna #jjk x y/n #jujustsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #jjk gojo

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amazon160 · 9 months

Text

M.X.E.S. x Reader Headcanons 👾🐇💙

NO ONE IS WRITING ABOUT THIS GUY WHAT THE HECK

Anyways.

-he’s always been a guard dog of some sorts

-so when you first entered the security system his red flags and alarms all went off at once

-he wasn’t going to let you go anywhere near the security systems, and he wouldn’t think twice about it

-in this scenario, you were just a technician trying to do your job. You manually shut down all the animatronics to reboot some systems and stumbled across M.X.E.S.

-M.X.E.S. was shocked when you didn’t try hacking into the system like someone that he was dealing with would usually do

-you found that the M.X.E.S. PROGRAM ran a lot more smoothly and broadly than the security you usually used, so you decided to use it more often to access the Pizzaplex more smoothly

-so you paid the M.X.E.S. character more visits

-he eventually got closer and closer to you until he was able to snoop around what you were doing and kind of (?) interact with you

-the guard dog personality wore down over time

-time skip, and you’re finding yourself seeing M.X.E.S. far more often than you expected

-remember that little chip Helpi puts in so you can see him in the real world? That’s basically what happens

-you can see M.X.E.S. in the real world, spawning wherever (the con is that no one else can see him), and he’s even gotten access to your electronics.

-so when the chip is out, you can see him on or through the camera of your phone and computer

-you’d uncovered this “sassy” side to M.X.E.S. you liked to make fun of

-he enjoyed your company and perhaps grew a bit too attached to, or maybe obsessed, with you

-your dynamic was resemblant of the “guard dog” kind of persona M.X.E.S. had, but instead he tried his best to advise your actions and keep ANYTHING harmful away from you

-luckily for him, he has learned how to hijack different technologies

-and technology is everywhere these days…

-it makes it very easy for him to influence a target

-because you work at the Pizzaplex, M.X.E.S. really takes care to try and communicate better with you while you’re there

-he can only actually touch you in the AR world now, somewhere you can only be during your shift

-sometimes he’ll send more specific messages to you through the Daycare attendant. Whichever side of it isn’t active with the kids is usually active in the AR world, so most of the times a chilled out Moon will send messages

-M.X.E.S. doesn’t like Moon and Monty all that much specifically. There’s something wrong with them….

-your relationship was platonic for a while…until Moon gave you a rather specific message.

-“He was saying, ‘make sure you get to Roxy especially this weekend. Her AI’s been acting up and I think there’s a lack of power getting into her systems.’ Blah, blah, blah. Sap, sap, sap. Sappy. He saps over you a LOT. He’s such a simp. I’m the only one who can hear him, thank GOODNESS.”

-you noticed M.X.E.S. was being a little more touchy whenever he could in the AR world.

-you didn’t really mind, you knew some friends that were like that

-after a long while of going along with this, you finally recognized his attachment to you and realized you’d been starting to develop a crush on the rabbit yourself

-it sounded insane. YOU sounded insane. But it was something that you just couldn’t really help at this point

-one day you entered the system to play around with Sun and Moon’s systems, to Sun’s discontent.

-you paid extra detail to ignore M.X.E.S.

-you watched as his demeanor changed from the intimidating guard dog to a sad puppy following you around

-his facial expression practically begged for attention

-you finally acknowledged him at the end of your shift. Just before you took the mask off, you motioned for him to lean down. He happily obliged, content that you were giving him some attention now. You took his head by his jaw and pressed a small kiss against his nose. One hand went up to stroke one of his ears lightly, quickly.

-you backed away because his arms were sparking more electricity than normal

-you gave a small wave then left the AR world, leaving a sad looking M.X.E.S. icon on the corner of your phone’s home screen

-no worries, you would make it up to him the next shift you had with him.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf security breach #security breach #security breach dlc #sb ruin #ruin dlc #fnaf dlc #mxes #ruin mxes #fnaf mxes #glitchtrap

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 2 months

Text

Lonely Dancers

main masterlist | misc. jackles characters masterlist

SPOILERS! this story is set after the events of the movie and it (vaguely) spoils the ending

summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger

pairing: tom hanniger x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.7k

warnings: language, cheating, mentions of death/murder, hearing voices (briefly, very end of the fic)

author’s note: happy valentine’s day! i wrote (and barely edited) this very quickly because i wanted to publish it while it was still valentine’s day in my timezone! enjoy!

music: lonely dancers by conan gray — incredible song by an incredible artist! go pre-save the upcoming album!

Tears were still clouding your eyes as you sat at the bar. You’d driven here after walking in on your boyfriend with another woman—your two best friends had both betrayed you in the most gutwrenching way.

“Crappy Valentines?” the man a few seats down from you asked.

“Somethin’ like that,” you scoffed.

“Well–”

“Look no offense, but I’m really not in the mood to be hit on, okay? So kindly fuck off and let me drink in peace.”

He nodded curtly; “Ten-four.”

You finished the glass in front of you and gestured to the bartender for another. You downed that one quickly and again asked for another immediately after.

“Cheated on, huh?” the man from before asked and you finally turned to look at him. He had a small, sad smile on his plush, pink lips and his green eyes seemed to look at you with sympathy.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

“I, uh, I know the look,” he replied. “How about the next rounds are on me?” he offered, you smiled a little in thanks. “I’m Tom, by the way.” You told him your name, figuring it was the least you could do.

“So, Tom, I’m guessing your Valentine’s Day hasn’t been much better than mine?” you asked.

“What makes you say that?” he quoted you with a bit of a smirk.

“You’re drinking alone in a bar attached to a cheap-ass motel,” you retorted.

“Touché,” he laughed. “So maybe my day’s been shitty too… or maybe I just came here to hit on the lonely hot chicks.”

You narrowed your gaze at him, stifling a laugh; “Maybe. But something tells me you came here for the booze and not the chicks.” His smile faded a little at that but he was quick to plaster it back onto his face. “So how about we drink together for a bit and when I’m buzzed enough we head over to the dance floor and act like our day hasn’t been hell?” you suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

You both got to talking and eventually, you told him the whole story. He held back most of the comments he wanted to make; hope he drops fuckin’ dead, for example, or who in their right mind would do that to such a gorgeous fuckin’ woman!?

“Well, he sounds like a major dick,” he commented.

You listened to his story too, though he clearly wasn’t being as open with you as you were with him. But, you couldn’t blame him. His issue seemed to be about trauma linked to the actual day and less about something that happened recently.

After nearly half an hour of talking, he took your hand and led you to the beat-down jukebox in the corner.

“Does this shitty thing even work?” you scoffed.

“Let’s hope it does or this dancing thing is gonna be pretty awkward,” he joked. He managed to get a song playing. “May I have this dance?” He turned from the jukebox and looked at you, but quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “Shit, you okay?”

You sighed with a nod; “This was kind of… our song,” you admitted.

“Of all the songs for me to pick,” he scoffed quietly, mentally kicking himself. “I… don’t know how to switch it.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly, a sad smile gracing your lips though the tears stayed in your eyes.

“How about we dance to it anyway?” he offered. “That way it’ll become our song and the next time you hear it you won’t think of that cheating bastard, you’ll think of the somewhat good-looking guy you met while drinking yourself half to death?” He smirked and wiggled his brows a bit, making you let out a laugh.

“Somewhat good-looking, huh? Have you looked in any kinda mirror recently?”

He shrugged, still smirking; “Didn’t wanna seem too cocky; had to downplay my looks a little, gauge your reaction.” You let him put his hands on your hips as you both started swaying to the music.

“That so?” You put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them to the back of his neck. “And what’d my reaction tell you, handsome?”

“That this song is now officially ours,” he replied. “And every time you hear it you’re gonna remember my handsome face instead of that ugly asshole’s.”

“Thanks for that, Tom.” You smiled up at him, continuing to let him guide your movements. “I’d much rather think of you.”

You rested your head on his shoulder and his grip on your waist changed to wrap around your torso. The song was slow so he didn’t feel the need to change anything about the way you two were dancing—he just held you and gently swayed back and forth with the rhythm.

When the song ended the next one that played was more up-beat and “danceable” so you pulled away a little.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaimed, beginning to dance a more energetically while you still kept your hands on him.

He chuckled at your reaction and began dancing more too. His hands went back to your waist and he twirled you around. With your back pressed against his chest he turned up the heat a little; trailing his hands forward and up your body slowly. You smiled widely, enjoying the feeling of his touch over the thin fabric of your long-sleeved crop top. He twirled you back around, your hands catching your weight on his chest.

He looked down into your eyes; “Just thought I should gauge your reaction again.”

“And what’s it saying this time?” You smiled up at him, keeping your hands on his chest.

“That it might be okay if I kiss you right now?”

You nodded before he leaned down to place a kiss on your eager lips. Before he could, however, your phone rang and you pulled back to check it.

“Damn it,” you mumbled, seeing the name.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Tom asked and you nodded. You were about to answer but he whipped the phone from your hands and hit decline. “Stop,” he said when you reached for the phone, “forget that guy! He clearly doesn’t know how to love a woman like you—someone so gorgeous, funny… talented dancer.” The last one made you laugh through the sting of fresh tears. “And I hope he drops fuckin’ dead! How about we just keep dancing so I don’t have to see those tears slip down your pretty face, huh?”

“Guess I’m all yours tonight,” you replied.

“That’s more like it!” He took you back into his arms before he kissed you.

You woke up the next morning to the sound of someone knocking on your apartment door. You sighed and grabbed your pepper spray before going to answer it. When you looked through the peephole, however, you smiled and placed the weapon down on the table by your front entrance.

“Hey Tom, what’re you doing here?” You smiled after you opened the door. He held out the bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back.

“Happy belated Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I hope I made it a little less shitty for you and that you won’t hate this holiday the way I do.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you took them from him. You stepped aside so he could walk in. “I’m gonna find a vase for these, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”

He nodded and made his way to your couch. He knew the layout of your home and where you lived because he had driven you home last night (well, earlier that day, technically) and made sure you got inside safely. You had offered to let him spend the night but he had declined politely, saying that as much as he enjoyed your company he didn’t want the two of you to become a one-night-stand. “Besides,” he had said, “I’ve got something important I’ve gotta do.”

The idea that Tom’s ‘important thing’ may have been just getting you flowers made your heart swoon in a way that you’d never felt before.

You hurried and put the flowers in a vase before you went over and sat next to Tom on the couch. He smiled at you before you turned on the TV.

“Wanna watch something?” you asked but your eyes widened when you looked at the screen; “Oh my god.”

“Two individuals brutally murdered last night…” the news reporter went on to say the names of your ex and his new girlfriend (your former best friend). “Officials say it was a robbery gone wrong, due to a missing engagement ring presumably still in the romantic, heart-shaped box it was purchased in barely two weeks ago from a local jeweler. No suspects are in custody—”

Tom shut the TV off as tears began rolling down your cheeks.

“Th-They’re both dead…” you barely whispered. The thought of the two people you cared most about being killed for no fucking reason made a scream erupt from your throat. Tom pulled you into his chest and you sobbed, gripping his shirt with all your might.

“I-I’m so fucking sorry,” Tom whispered.

After a (very long) session of tears and Tom’s gentle shushing, Tom was making breakfast in your kitchen as you sat at the table.

“It could’ve been me,” you said. “I-If he hadn’t cheated on me, if we hadn’t broken up, I would’ve been in her shoes. I’d be dead.”

“Thank god you aren’t,” Tom said.

“Maybe if I had answered his call–”

“Don’t think like that,” he interrupted. “Just be grateful that you weren’t there and that you’re okay. This isn’t your fault at all in any fucking way, you understand me? It was just a robbery gone wrong and as tragic as that is, that isn’t on you.”

You smiled a little, though tears were still slipping down your cheeks. He had a point and even if he was technically still a stranger, he seemed to care about you.

“We’ve got her now, Tom. She’s all ours.”

“What’d you say?” Tom looked at you over his shoulder.

“Nothing.” You smiled sadly at him. “Just…thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

#tom hanniger x reader #my bloody valentine 2009 #my bloody valentine #jackles character #tom hanniger #jensen ackles characters #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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lilystyles · 9 months

Text

one of us.

part six of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note part six yay...drama awaits

brief description karaoke night leads to a run in with paparazzi. y/n's face is splashed everywhere, and harry doesn't know what to do.

warnings! alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sexual themes, angst, drama. around 5.3k words angels.

inexperienced!fwb!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

Daisy called Y/n up Thursday morning while walking to a lecture that she was not particularly excited to attend. She always felt like she had aged ten years when she stepped out of the lecture theatre. The tune of her ringtone played in her headphones as she felt the Spring wind hit her face. The weather was getting warmer but the mornings were still very chilly in London.

She hit answer instantly without checking who it was. It was likely either Harry, her mum, or Daisy.

“Y/n!” Chirped Daisy into the phone.

“Hi, Babe.” Said Y/n calmly into the phone, startled by Daisy’s excitement.

Daisy was a bartender, who owned her own small business on the side, she made handmade clothes. So Y/n was surprised that Daisy was calling her at nine in the morning, she usually worked nights and slept all throughout the day and even then she was busy with sewing and screen printing when she was awake.

“I was going to wait until I see you, but I can’t!!” She sounded completely ecstatic.

Y/n pinched her brows as she grinned at her friend’s utter excitement, “What?! What?! Spit it out, Mate!”

“James!” She cried and Y/n could only assume it was one of three things. They are moving in together, she’s pregnant, or James finally popped the question. She didn’t know if it was the latter, maybe all three. James was that kind of guy, he acted quickly and on impulse but when it came to Daisy he was more calculated he cared too much to do that.

“James?” Y/n asked walking towards the small coffee stand that was in the middle of the courtyard. She needed a very large latte to get through this lecture. Maybe even a cookie, they made this really good pistachio and macadamia nut one, and she loved it so much she had to put a ban on buying one every day because it was draining her bank account.

“He wants to marry me!!” Daisy cheered, and Y/n could imagine her arms up in the air as she ran around in her pyjamas.

Y/n made a sound of excitement and the group of people in front of her turned around and looked at her with a judging look, but Y/n did not care!

“No way!” She gasped, stopping herself from jumping up and down too. “Fucking finally!” She cheered into the phone, a big cheek-splitting grin coming across her face. They’d been together since fucking preschool.

“We are going out to a karaoke bar tonight, I’ve invited everyone to surprise them, so you don’t know act surprised. But I just had to tell you! Can you make it? 8:30 Lan Kwai Fong?”

Y/n had an assignment to do but she thought fuck it, James and Daisy were getting married! Her best friends were getting married! Finally! She was so happy for them and if she did a chunk of this essay right now it would be fine.

“I’m there. See you tonight. Congratulations, Baby!”

“Bye, love you!” Daisy chirped.

“Love you, too.” Y/n finished and hung up, she was finally at the front of the line and she ordered her latte and cookie before quickly grabbing it from the redheaded barista and rushing off to her class.

She was five minutes late so she came in through the back looking for her only friend in the class and his long brown hair. She hoped he was here, she wanted to ask him about the exam next week and she felt like she hadn’t seen him in forever.

She saw him instantly and sat down beside him, he looked up with a smile.

“Y/n, hey.” Said Mitch softly, his hair was tied up today and he was in a One Direction shirt which made Y/n giggle to herself, no one knew she knew Harry Styles except mega fans (she knew the boys too!). It was like her little secret.

Y/n handed him one of the two cups in her hand.

“Cinnamon soy.” She whispered as she opened her laptop eyes moving ahead to the boring professor who was sitting down at his desk speaking about god knows what. This class just gave her extra points towards her degree, which meant she finished quicker. Mitch was in an entirely different degree and was taking it as a prerequisite for another class. They met back in first year, study buddies.

Mitch patted her shoulder, a smile cracking on his normally stoic face. “You’re a gem, Mate.”

Y/n practically fell asleep during the next few hours but she managed to get her essay finished, all she had to do was edit now. She was very happy with that. At the end of the lecture, Mitch was telling her something about his girlfriend Sarah having a house party and that she was welcome to come swing by, it was next week.

She told Mitch she would text him, and they both rushed off with a hug goodbye and Y/n to the train that took her home to Harry’s. Her headphones were blaring Taylor Swift as she made a mental to make sure to get off at the shops so she could buy some lunch for Harry, he was busy as a bee with his new Album and since their weekend away their schedules had suddenly filled keeping them apart. She wanted to see him even if it was just over some sandwiches on his living room floor, his company vastly improved her days. And since her Uni work was done basically, she had time to see him now.

As her mind dazed off it was no time before she was at her stop and she snapped out of her daydreams.

Her heavy backpack weighed on her as she walked into the supermarket. She decided on making her version of a fast food sandwich. She grabbed meats and ingredients for salads and even got Harry this box of tea that had a little bear on the front, it was strawberry flavour which she’d never tried, the bear just reminded her of Harry. He had a pink shirt with one on the front just like it.

After she got everything she needed she caught a bus to his place, which had become a bit of a routine now. It didn’t take her long to get there, the weight of all these bags had her shoulders aching but she would carry a bolder uphill to please Harry, so what was a little groceries on a five-minute walk?

She hit the security buzzer by his fence and Harry let her in instantly. The gates opened and he stepped out of his front door with a look of surprise on his face. He was in pyjama pants and a small shirt that had a bunny rabbit on it. It showed a sliver of his tummy. His hair was up in a little top knot and she could tell he was in full work mode.

“Angel, what are you doing here?” He asked with a big grin when she was close enough to hear.

Y/n shrugged at him with a big smile on her face. “Missed you, H. I come bearing gifts.” She lifted the bags in show, “I’m gonna make us lunch.”

He pulled her into his arms and took the heavy bags from her arms before pecking her lips in greeting.

“You are a goddess. I’m so hungry.” He smiled as they walked inside.

Y/n took off her layers and boots as she walked into the kitchen following after him. The living room had three of his guitars strewn out and the book he used to write, along with loose pages scattered everywhere.

Sometimes he’d pull that little book out while they were in bed and he would try and write out how beautiful her blissed-out face was post orgasm in words, or in the morning when she met his gaze, he’d quickly grab the pink thick and full book and scribble something that he never let her read.

He said she’d have to wait and listen until his new album was out. The fact that some of his songs might’ve been about her gave her a rush of energy and smittenness towards him. She never thought a boy would write a song about her, especially Harry!

She began to make the sandwiches so he could sit and tell her about his day so far, he watched her dreamily speaking slowly and lazily as he usually did.

He interrupted himself, “You look beautiful today, Y/n.”

She blushed, her movements stuttering as she shook her head. She had messy hair that needed a wash, smudged lipstick and a pair of loose jeans and a jumper that actually belonged to him on. Harry had a way of making her feel completely flustered, like she was in a floor length gown when she was really just in lazy sloppy stained clothes. But to him, she practically was.

“Harry, do you do that just to make me lose my mind, or what?”

He giggled. “Well, partly, but it’s like an itch I’ve got to scratch. I simply must tell you. Like when you look at a pretty sunset, you can’t help but take a photo or tell everyone to come and admire it’s beauty.”

She rolled her eyes, a warmth filling her belly. “Sap.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, H. I just….feel speechless when you say things like that.”

Harry grabbed her hand from across the bench and squeezed it.

They enjoyed their sandwiches with some of the bear tea which Harry said he liked, and they watched a few episodes of Friends because that was Harry’s favourite show. It was becoming normal for them to do this sort of thing. Y/n then asked hopefully if he would come tonight.

He said he would be able to if he got back to it after the next episode. Y/n was glad to hear that.

“Do you want to use my study it’s soundproof, you can do some Uni work or even take a nap, Petal. You look sleepy. Got much Uni to do?” He didn’t want her to go, even if he was busy. He liked knowing she was pottering about. She began treating his home much like her own and he was happy. He loved finding things of Y/n’s here and there, and her scent on his sheets. Or even a strand of her hair on his jumper.

She sighed at the thought of a nap and longed for a short one. “Oh, I’m so getting into your bed.” Wondering why she hadn’t thought of that earlier, he smiled amusedly and kissed the top of her head.

They finished the episode and then Y/n left him to go sleep in his bed. She turned on the fancy diffuser he had in his room, putting in a lavender-scented oil. He’d told her one day it was one he used before sleep, usually when she wasn’t there to aid him with her soft scent and touch. She shut the curtains too to block out any light and stripped out of her clothes and slid inside his cool silky sheets. Her bare skin felt so cosy against the warmth of his bed.

She shut her eyes and when she woke up an hour and a half later she was surprised she had slept with such ease. She hadn’t realised how tired she was. She thought it was probably because Harry’s house and room were such a comfort to her now. The musky smell of his natural odour clung to the sheets, something that was just Harry — she loved it, and wasn’t something that was easily washed away. The fact she could hear him doing his thing downstairs and talking made the perfect white noise.

The soft pillow he slept on each night was like a cloud and the hum of the diffusor was calming to her.

Her small rest was needed, and made her feel much perkier, she sat up groggily, still feeling slightly asleep and confused. She grabbed her phone to check the time. She rubbed her eyes softly getting up so she could go home and get ready. She told Harry she’d meet him there tonight, because she needed her clothes and makeup, and wanted to wash her hair. When she told him she’d get the train home he refused and got his driver to take her back home. He was always like that.

He gave her a kiss on her head goodbye and told her he’d see her tonight. She smiled brightly, and he gave her one back.

On the twenty-minute drive home, she felt like a politician or something. Or royalty even, like that scene in Princess Diaries when Mia’s grandma shows up.

The driver’s name was Brad, and he was also Harry’s bodyguard. Nice, but quiet and professional. The windows were tinted so darkly, and it was such a fancy car. It had snacks, a TV, and champagne. Not that Y/n needed any of that, the drive was fairly quick and she wasn’t a rockstar on her way to perform. She was just going home.

When the car pulled up outside her apartment building she thanked Brad kindly and told him to have a good evening, and she stepped out the air was damp and smelt of rain and walked upstairs and into her apartment. She had been here all week instead of at Harry’s, stewing in her mess rather than his luxury, because she’d been busy working on Uni assignments and exams. She decided to clean since she had a few hours to kill until tonight. The pile of dirty clothes in her laundry was starting to grow eyes and a personality now and she really did not want to clean it. She started organising into piles of whites, blacks, delicates and others.

As she waited for all her laundry to be done she contemplated finally asking Harry out for real, she was sitting on top of her dodgy washing machine that tended to shake so much it fell on its side if there wasn’t enough weight on top of it. It was annoying, but she honestly couldn’t afford a new one.

She stared off mindlessly at the tiled walls of her small laundry room, imagining him as her boyfriend, what would it be like to date him officially? Would much change? He acted pretty lovely already.

They had wonderful and passionate sex, he took her to dinners and fun places, dates, and every little thing in-between. I mean, isn’t that what a boyfriend does? She’d ask any of her friends for advice if it wasn’t Harry Styles she was with and on top of that Haz her childhood friend who she hoped would not mess up the group because of their ‘relationship’. She didn’t know what her friends would say about it, and she really didn’t want to disappoint them. At Uni she had a few mates like Sarah, Mitch and Adam, but she wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt she stopped her childhood circle of friends from being normal. It was not that she didn’t trust them either, just that she knew how important privacy was between them. Nothing was private when you were famous, or knew a famous person. Also, she didn’t want Harry to find out about how she felt, what if he really only wanted sex like they had agreed on?

She also kind of wished, even if it would hurt her feelings, that she could ask an ex-fling of his. Was he just a romantic? Or was he different with her compared to the rest?

The whole thing was a mindfuck, so she liked to pretend it wasn’t something to worry about. But the weight of it was beginning to get her down. As she made it to the final task on her list of mopping her hardwood floors and having mulled over the whole thing for about an hour, she decided that tonight she’d test the waters. Mention something about them, and bring it up. Just to see how he would react to the idea, and then reevaluate from there.

By the time she’d hung her laundry out on her balcony pegging it to a wire, she realised it was already dark and that she needed to go get ready for tonight.

She made a light dinner for herself of a grilled cheese with tomatoes on too, and a cup of juice. She ate slowly enjoying the taste, and she heard the familiar sound of heavy downfall rain landing on her roof outside. Ah, London, always raining when Y/n felt herself overthinking! That was a lot, clearly. She hoped her laundry would dry eventually.

She finally finished and got up to wash the hair that was now greasier than ever, and clean the day off of her skin. After she got out feeling warm and clean, she was happy she could take her time styling her hair in her favourite way for going out and doing her skincare. As she applied the fancy mosturiser Harry had given her as a gift to her face and neck she basked in the floral and gentle smell. She sighed softly as she ran her fingers through her damp hair before drying and combing it.

She didn’t know what to wear now that it was raining. Lan Kwai Fong was a karaoke bar, and it was always so hot inside. But the air was chilly and damp now, so she decided to wear something with a few layers. She picked out her favourite jeans they were flared at the bottoms and rested lowly on her hips showing the top of her tattoo, a cute blouse that was red and black with floral designs on it, it was lacey. For shoes, she decided to wear black heeled boots that were leather and could handle the rain, and over the top, she wore a long black faux fur coat. It was warm, and she was happy with that. For jewellery, she wore her usual gold rings, necklace, earrings, and a few bangles. She’d found the ring that matched Harry’s necklace and slipped it on.

She applied makeup that accented her features and chose reddish lipstick to match her shirt. She felt pretty and was excited to go out and celebrate, though she had a slight pinch of anxiety in her tummy she brushed it off thinking good thoughts, and after all, it was just Harry. She knew that boy, he was just Harry from the end of the street. Not some wild sexy rockstar who was untouchable. Despite it all, Harry was still her old friend.

When her taxi arrived at the bar she was excited and could already see Daisy waiting out the front under James’ arm. Y/n rushed over sprinting into both of their arms and jumping up and down in pure childlike excitement.

“Congratulations!” She cheered loudly with a giggle, before settling down when she saw Finnley, Olive, Penny, and Michael all in tow. She knew it was a surprised, and instantly acted as she normally would.

She jumped at hearing the rumble of a voice behind her neck, hairs standing at the gentle vibration.

“Hey, guys,” Said the familiar slow drawl of Harry. He rested closely behind her. He squeezed her hip in a hello before hugging everyone else and then finally her, wanting to act normal. They’d always been fairly touchy.

“Hey stranger, how you been?” She said acting as if it had been the same time away from him as everyone else. He smiled knowingly.

“Not too bad, Pet,”

She smiled and all of them walked inside. Harry stayed close by her side and they made their way into a room that had a little stage and seats. Everyone placed their bags and coats down and left to get drinks. Harry and Y/n both decided to have some mojitos tonight and kick back a little. Harry was talking to the group about his work and his day, of songwriting and composing. Y/n acted like she hadn’t known that and asked questions, Harry appreciated her acting. He asked about Uni even though he already knew and then the conversation finally shifted to the real reason they were all here.

James grabbed Daisy from beside Olive and they stood up before them. Daisy leaned into his side and held his hip under his shirt. “We are getting married!” She blurted out excitedly showing her hand and the ring that rested there. It was an antique snake ring made of gold with diamonds. Very Daisy.

Y/n squealed excitedly and everyone erupted with cheers. Daisy and James then began to discuss details about when and where, and the plan. Daisy was talking about the dress she wanted to the girls and the boys were discussing how James had popped the question. It was nice. The first one of them to get married, wow. They were growing up!

The night was perfect, it was just like always; fun, lighthearted, full of drinks and laughs. Memories fluttered through the voices of such familiar faces, and Y/n felt a sense of home. Harry had barely left her side all night he remained close by and they danced every few songs, goofily twirling or doing horrible moves on purpose. Her tummy hurt from laughing so hard.

When it finally came time for Y/n to sing up there like the others she wasn’t keen. So Harry put on a favourite of hers she simply couldn’t refuse. It was One Of Us by ABBA. Harry had a very specific memory of the pair of them singing it in his bedroom once. He always tied that song to her and that night in his bedroom.

Harry and Y/n were hiding up in his room from their mothers who were having one too many wines downstairs with other parents from the neighbourhood, it was Easter long weekend. The pair of them had gotten sick of socialising and talking about what their plans were after school, they were only halfway through their final year of school and had already been asked too many times to count.

Y/n flopped onto his bed with a sigh grabbing his favourite turtle pillow, Terry, and scooped the stuffed animal into her arms. They always hid up here when they were sick of the adults. Harry sat on a beanbag by his CD player watching her. He always watched her, eyes never shying away from her face which always brought a radiance of heat to her skin.

She looked cute. She was in a pink floral dress, it was long and she had paired it with her favourite pastel yellow cardigan. Her hair was styled into two plaits with ribbons. She looked rather angelic.

She was mumbling a complaint about how she had no bloody idea who she wanted to be when she grew up, and how she didn’t think that was such a bad thing. Harry could only nod in agreement.

She looked at his tall shelf of CDs and sighed. “Put some ABBA on, they always make everything better.”

So he did.

The track played as background noise for a while as they talked, Harry told her of his aspirations to sing and she told him of her aspirations to be happy and content. Eventually, it finally hit one of her favourites, One Of Us, she gasped.

“Turn it up!”

He obeyed turning to the dial louder. She stood up on his bed still holding Terry, and began to sing and jump on the bed. For an eighteen-year-old, she felt like a kid sometimes. As she began to belt the lyrics very off-key, Harry covered his ears playfully and she stopped jumping.

“Hey, you try jumping and singing then!” She said and Harry took that as a challenge. He toed his shoes off and joined her placing his hands in hers and began to jump with him as they belted the lyrics between laughs.

Harry’s voice was soft and nice on her ears so she shut her lips just so she could hear him louder, and she wished she could just listen to him for hours. She was almost certain he would be someone one day.

When the song ended they flopped down on his squeaky bed with a laugh, backs pressing into the soft springy mattress. Then Gemma came in and made a complaint about Anne dancing.

Y/n and Harry sat up and then followed her downstairs. Somehow Y/n’s mother convinced them to get into a photo. ‘All grown up! Our babies!’.

The photo was in Y/n’s childhood bedroom back home. Harry’s hand was on her waist and Y/n leaned into him smiling, Harry was laughing in the photo Y/n couldn’t remember about what.

Harry slid her under his arm and gave her her own microphone, neither needed to look at the lyrics on the screen and as she sang and acted out the scenes she imagined went with the song. She was back in Harry’s house when the chorus hit.

He seemed to have gone back to then too. They smiled at each other knowingly. He was very close to her, their noses touching as she dragged her fingers down his chest seductively. The song was slower more dramatic so they acted out as if they felt that feeling.

Neither had noticed the flash of phones or cameras until the chorus when they turned to face their friends. Unfamiliar faces stared back at them, and Harry’s brows pinched.

Fans? Drunken people? The latter it seemed.

Y/n continued to sing into the microphone but Harry slightly deterred, stepping back from her. He didn’t mind if it was fans, but it was a private room. He really didn’t want this night to become about him. That night was about Daisy and James.

Y/n was suddenly aware of the way she had been touching him and pulled her hands away from his warmth.

When the song ended they both got off stage and Harry was swarmed. People called his name, asking for pictures and Y/n was surprised when one of them asked if she was Y/n.

Y/n frowned. How did they know? She nodded.

“Hi.”

Someone even asked to take a picture with her and in her bewildered state she let them. Harry noticed and frowned, this wasn’t what he wanted.

“I’m really sorry, guys, but this s’a private event. And m’ with my friends. I can’t take that many pictures, and I would appreciate it if you respected that.” He tried to explain. The fans were pushy and Harry tried again. Y/n didn’t know what to do, but he gave her a pleading look for her help. She snuck away, with ease, to the front door of the bar and told the bouncers the situation they walked to the room she pointed at and she went to the bathroom, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She leaned into the sink sighing deeply. It must be hard for Harry to live like this, they had nearly been spotted a few times and Y/n who kept little track of social media involving celebrities hadn’t noticed the few gossip pages that had photos of Harry with a mystery woman. Which was of course her. Harry hadn’t seen anyone else since Y/n had come to the forefront of his mind.

A paparazzi had taken one of them going to dinner in London to see Anne. It was just a photo of their interlocked hands. ‘Who is this mystery woman?’. Then another of the back of her body hidden in a coat getting in Harry’s car from that same night.

There was also a photo of Harry near her apartment walking titled ‘Harry seen leaving a friend’s house. A very pretty friend.’ That was on New Year’s Day.

Another photo was of the pair of them. It was that day they walked in the park hand in hand, Y/n swimming in his clothes. The title was called, ‘Harry on a Sunday stroll.’ It was the back of them. Miraculously Y/n’s identity had yet to be leaked. But Harry worried now that they would know. The fans had already taken photos and videos of them singing.

He had hidden all this drama from her. Not wanting to stress her out, and now he felt awful. He had ruined the night. For everyone, and Y/n would probably snap out of herself and realise now that he came with baggage.

When two large bouncers came in they realised the situation quickly and escorted the fans and people out from the room. Harry was grateful, that must’ve been Y/n. But where was she? When the room was quiet he apologised but his friends seemed to not mind too much but were grateful to be alone once more. Harry said he was going to the loo, but he was searching for Y/n.

When he left and walked down the hall hoping no one would recognise him, lost in thought and panic he felt a body bump into his.

“Sorr- Oh, hey, Petal. Yeh’ okay?”

Y/n was looking up at him already. “Yeah, you?”

He nodded, pulling her into his arms and placing a kiss on top of her head. He whispered something about how he was sorry about all that, and Y/n was too focused on him to notice the photos being taken of them.

This time both their faces were visible in it. Due to their slightly intoxicated state, they were less aware of their surroundings and so Y/n pecked his jaw and red lipstick shade was left there. They went back into the booth and began to sing some more and brush off the incident trying to enjoy the rest of their night.

Daisy and Y/n sang a Fleetwood Mac song, and soon all ten of them were on the small stage shouting the words and laughing. Daisy was holding Y/n’s hand and Harry was holding Y/n’s hip and she felt so warm, safe, and comforted between them. They belted the words without microphones and giggled together. She felt so at home, they were her people.

James began to dance very badly and serenade Daisy and the stage was theirs now. Like they were actors from the actual Shakespearean time.

Romeo and Juliet by The Dire Straights played loudly over the speakers. That was their song. James fell to his knees dramatically and it reminded Y/n of that scene in Mamma Mia on the beach.

She and the others had a few more drinks and the night grew more blurry. At around one in the morning, they began to wrap up and were all on a high from the great news of their best friend’s engagement. The group walked together in each others’ warm touch and stumbled outside. A flash of blinding white lights hit their eyes startling them all.

Y/n leaned into the nearby touch of Harry the flash burning her retinas as she tried to figure out where she was. It was disorientating. But Harry was all too familiar with it. Loud voices asked questions.

“Is that the mystery girl?!”

“Who are you dating?”

“Is it any of these women?”

“Look at that lipstick stain! Is it from Y/n?”

How did they know her name? What mystery woman? Was Harry seeing other people?

Somehow James and Harry managed to get them out of the way so they could all get into their taxis. Harry didn’t get in beside her like she assumed he would, he just leaned into the window she rolled down handing her some money. “Get home safe, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

As he watched her car zoom off he bit his lip. Maybe it was time.

Weirdly as the car drove off Y/n felt tears prick in her eyes. What was happening?

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