#(you know in comparison to blowing their head off) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoyokalicent · 3 months

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soon you will be mine, oh, but i want you now.

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

summary: you're felix's favorite girl, you had been since you were young. what happens when you're all he needs?

warnings: cursing, mentions of fucking and alcohol, felix is a freak and in love with his best friend.

a/n: this little fic is based off fallingforyou by the 1975 bc its arguably one of their most heartbreakingly good songs so!! (lyrics in bold)

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i'm so excited for the night all we need's my bike and your enormous house

the strobe lights were almost blinding as you search the large house for felix. felix, who all but got on his knees to beg you to accompany him to the house party you now wander around aimlessly.

"princess!" you barely hear felix over the booming sound of music being pumped through every speaker in the house, "lost you for a minute there, you ok?"

his hand finds yours immediately walking with you toward the sliding glass doors, "just need some air, fi."

"me too, i'll go with you." i'll go anywhere with you, he means.

his hand leaves yours and felix can't help the bout of disappointment he feels in the pit of his stomach, wishing he could hold your hand just a little longer.

felix watches you intently as you open the door with the hand that not long ago was occupied his own, and once the door is open enough for you to exit your hand slots right into his own.

"do you have a cig?" what a stupid question, you see he has a full pack in his back pocket, you don't know is that he wants to share one with you, to see the red smudges of your lipstick around the end of it before he takes a drag of his own.

"f'course." you rake your hands through your black handbag, the handbag he purchased for you while his family was on holiday in paris. once you pull out your worn pack of cigarettes you follow up with your light pink lighter, "hm?"

it was your signal for him to light it for you, he takes the lighter out of your hands and cups a hand around your lips, lighting the cigarette for you. maybe its the drinks, the cups of liquor you had poured for him making his head spin, or maybe it was you, the thought of you being his one day. just one day, but he wants you now.

after your long drag you pass the cigarette to him, blowing out the smoke and looking out toward the backyard where friends were dancing, and lovers were making out in the dark corner by the trees.

"i've always loved nights like this, its so easy." you say, reaching your hand back out for the cigarette.

"me too, fun." he responds, as you flick the ends of the cigarette and watch the ashes fall onto the concrete, "always have fun with you, princess."

the nickname fell from his lips easily, something he had called you since you were a princess on halloween in grade school, never failing to pick on you for it.

"wanna get out of here?" felix asks looking for your confirmation, just wanting to be alone with you, not having to deal with farleigh's knowing glare.

"i do, fi. walk me back?" another stupid question, but this time coming from you, "or am i staying with you?"

"you'll stay with me, princess."

i'm caught on your coat again you said, "oh no, it's fine"

the weather in oxford was completely contradictory to felix's mood. the grey sky with icy winds had no comparison for the light reflecting from his smile. he was sat in some dingy diner (somewhere that only you could get him to step foot into) waiting for the check with you beside him.

he completely rejected your idea of sitting across from him, arguing that, "i haven't seen you in ages, why would i want you to be anywhere but my side?"

your lips were wrapped around the straw of the strawberry milkshake you swore you needed, shamefully felix can't help but think about your lips. the way they break into a smile, the way they sing your favorite songs, the way they'd look wrapped around him.

you're his best friend for goodness sake.

"fi?"

fuck the thinks, "princess."

"do you think we could go to the corner store? i wanted to get those crisps you like. i've been wanting them since the other night." you ask him with hesitation, as if he has ever denied you anything, as if he ever could.

"yep," felix pops his p, mirroring something you had always done, "quite a walk, sure you want to in the cold?"

you take one last sip of your milkshake before responding, "i've got you to keep me warm, don't think that's enough?" he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

his silence is telling, for as long as you had known him he was never one for comfortable silence. but, with you he could sit for hours without talking, just to be with you.

once the check is payed, by felix, you are bouncing out of your seat, forgetting the jacket that was resting by the end of your back.

"forgetting something?" he holds the jacket up, opening it for your arms to slip into effortlessly.

before your hands have the chance to zip up your jacket his are working at the zipper, toward the middle of the jacket the zipper stops.

"huh?" he says, trying to find where it went wrong.

his mind is racing as he tries to find the flaw in your jacket, when he finds the culprit it almost warms his heart. the fringes of his own jacket were caught in the teeth of your own. a piece of himself was caught in a piece of you.

"sorry bout that, princess."

"oh, no s'fine." without hesitation he zips your jacket all of the way, not wanting to risk you catching a cold. going as far as to giving you his own scarf and putting your hood up for you.

"and what would i do without you?" you ask, hooking your arm in his own and resting your cheek on his bicep as you walk down the street.

"freeze, and possibly have to buy your own food."

feeling of your arms i don't want to be your friend, i want to kiss your neck

felix loved the feeling of your bed. the soft linens your mother had sent from southern italy, the fluffy blankets, firm pillows, the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist with your head lodged between his shoulder blades.

he loved it, right now, he longed for it.

farleigh was next to him talking to some guy at the pub and all he could think about is what you were doing. felix truly tried his hardest to get you to go with them to the pub, but you swore up and down tonight was your night for rest and relaxation.

stupidly, so stupidly, felix thought he would have more fun at the pub entertaining girls he'd never go home with instead of entertaining you.

"wanna get out of here?" a girl asks, pawing at his chest. all he can do his feign disgust, why would he want to leave with anyone but you?

"no," he responds, and sees the look on her face drop, "thanks" his words are slurred and all he can do is think to count the drinks he's had. the liquor really has affected him, usually he has you mooching off of whatever he has in his cup.

but, not tonight.

"farleigh, i need to go." felix pats farleigh on the shoulder, signaling his leave of absence.

"tell princess i said hi." farleigh responds, mocking his nickname for you, and felix can only open and close his mouth with a nod. felix starts his walk out of the bar with a slight wave to farleigh.

the walk to your dorm was quick, and his legs moved in a brisk walk, quickly starting to border a jog. wanting to get to you, get into your shower, get into your bed as quick as possible.

he dodges groups of partygoers and their judgmental glares skillfully, if they knew what he was running to he's sure they wouldn't be looking at him the way they were.

he arrives at your dormitory and ditches the stuffy elevator that would take too long, he doesn't have time for waiting. his legs move up the stairs, slower this time. almost savoring in the excitement of seeing you.

the many cups have him thinking, what if he told you now? he waits in front of your door, waiting. not knocking, just thinking. thinking about happy he could make you. thinking about what he could do for you, what you could do for him.

just before his mind could catch up with his movements he's knocking on the door. reeling in what he could say to you, and then you open the door.

your hair is in your rollers, and your body is drowning in your light yellow nightgown. ignoring all signs of sleepiness you smile, "felix?"

"i do not want to be your mate." your smile immediately drops, and your eyes open wide, suddenly he wants to jump down the flight of steps he had just climbed.

"what the fuck, felix?"

"no, no, no, princess, not like that." his large hands take your face into them, so tightly that your cheeks are smushed together, not to hurt you, never to hurt you.

"then how felix? you come to me in the middle of night to tell me what?" your words are slurred to the grip he has on his face.

you can smell the whiskey radiating off of him, making this all the more confusing, his hands fall from your face to his sides, "i don't want to be your friend." he takes breath, a deep breath, "i wanna kiss your neck"

"huh?" you ask again, slowly getting at what he means, but needing him to say it. say what you had been thinking for the last year.

"there was a girl at the bar, and she wasn't ugly. at all. she wanted to go home with me-"

you cut him off, "felix."

"sorry. but, i didn't want to go with her, all i thought about was you. coming home to you, maybe even kissing you, hugging you, fucking yo-"

you cut him off again, "felix."

"i just-"

"you what, felix?"

"i really love you. i love you so much i only think of you, i only think about you so much i can't hear a song without thinking about you. i love you so much i've started to lose my mind! i love you so much, princess." his lips smash into yours, and you taste him. the whiskey, the mint lip balm, the cigarettes, you taste him.

you kiss him until his hands start to trail toward the end of your night gown, "can't give the neighbors a free show, fi."

"can't have them seeing what's mine."

your eyebrows raise teasingly, "yours?"

"you're mine princess, finally."

#felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton fanfiction #felix catton fluff #felix catton imagines #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn #saltburn fanfction #saltburn 2023

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bombuni · 20 days

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a wild ride

summary: It’s Halloween night. Your friends have decided to take you out and get you drunk, but it’s kind of hard to focus on forgetting when the man you want to forget is standing across the room and flirting with another girl. genre/pairing: kim hongjoong x reader, slight yunho x reader, smut, jealous f2l wc: 4.4k warnings: SMUT, 18+ MDNI!, mentions of weed and drinking, cursing, drunk sex but they’re tipsy at the worst, mean!dom!hongjoong, but he's soft for reader, fem!sub!reader, bratty reader but she gets tamed quick, one instance of edging, finger sucking, name calling (just the use of ‘slut’) they’re both so possessive of each other and jealous it’s crazy bom note: this is my love letter to hongjoong’s bouncy outfit bc we moved on too fast</3 anywhooo THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1K!!! we hit it like a couple weeks ago but. it’s here now guys. I thank you for liking my works enough to follow and support and nothing will prove my gratitude but I just hope this comes close enough :) please enjoy and thanks once again everyone!!<3 also, here’s a playlist i made and listened to a lot while writing this!

You’re not really sure how your friends managed to talk you into coming out tonight. Much less, how you let Wooyoung drag you into matching costumes with him and San. Now you feel like an idiot standing in a fairly inaccurate rendition of a cat next to a pirate version of Seonghwa and Spider-man Yunho. Wooyoung seems to enjoy matching with you, although, letting everyone in the cramped house know that you three ‘have the best couples costume’ in the party. It’s embarrassing having to pull Wooyoung away from annoyed partygoers every 5 seconds, but he’s already halfway drunk and it’s sort of endearing how he boasts about you.

The night has barely started and whatever poor soul lives here should already be regretting hosting a Halloween party. There’s 4 couples making out in your line of sight, the smell of weed permeates your clothes, and the drunk-off-their-ass people in the middle of the room dancing to a poor remix of Monster Mash are sure to break something. There’s a rank scent that emanates from the wall on which you’re leaning against which makes you think someone’s already thrown up right where your shoulder is touching. Or it could just be Seonghwa’s breath, you’re not really sure.

The overwhelming heat from the bodies stuffed in the room is no comparison to the heat boiling inside of you. The humidity in the air and cacophony of noises do nothing to help your rising irritation. You try to cool it down with the iced drink in your hand, but the only way the warmth will go away is by looking away from Hongjoong-who’s in such a clear view from across the room you’d consider it God’s punishment for your selfish desire-and that’s never really going to happen. Not if he keeps looking at her while he’s dressed like that. That being in an intolerably well-fitting cowboy outfit. It’s obvious he knows he looks good, his forearm resting on the wall above the girl’s head as he leans down to hear her better. To get more intimate, to give her the same enticingly inviting smirk he gives you. Your cup crinlinking harshly in your fist snaps you out of the rage-induced trance. Seonghwa’s knowing smirk is haunting you from the corner of your eye, Yunho on your other side trying and failing to hide the same impish smile.

“You know you can’t actually blow people’s heads off if you stare hard enough, right?” Yunho chuckles, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“Ha, ha,” the sarcasm flows right off of Yunho.

“Someone’s jealous,” Seonghwa’s voice is tinged with a taunt, the smell of alcohol absolutely dripping off of him as he leans into you. You’re fully aware of his drunken intentions to piss you off, but you try your best to be mature and ignore the teasing finger he’s pointing in your face.

“Jesus, are you 12?” Smacking the finger out of your face, he stumbles back in mild surprise.

Yunho’s at least somewhat sober, laughing at the ‘pirate’s’ drunk theatrics, “I have an idea for you-”

Seonghwa lifts his red solo cup in the air and his mouth moves faster than either you or Yunho can process, “You kiss Hongjoong!”

It’s simply impossible for Hongjoong to have heard him from across the room and over the various conversations and the loud music playing, but you still shush and shove Seonghwa in a panic as if he’ll come over and shoot you down right in front of everybody. He pulls the ridiculously fake eyepatch up over his eye to stare at you incredulously, “That was rude,”

Yunho pulls Seonghwa into him, a protective arm landing over him so you won’t slap the alcohol out of his system, “Why don’t you go and, I don’t know, tell Hongjoong you’re in love with him?” He says with a mocking voice, shrugging as if it’s a simple solution.

You scoff at the tall man, “First of all, I am not in love wi-“

All of a sudden, Wooyoung pops up between you and Yunho’s bodies with his drawn-on whiskers completely smudged and cat ears gone, “Hongjoong! You looovveee Hongjoong,” he’s swaying and already moved on to telling you how much he loves you instead when you try to respond. Yunho only smirks at you, I told you so clearly evident on his pale face.

You grumble embarrassedly and glance towards Hongjoong again to make sure he hasn’t heard any of your guys’ conversation , “I don’t.”

Wooyoung hums to the song playing, balance completely lost as he drops all of his body weight onto you and tunes out of the conversation. Seonghwa’s not fairing any better against Yunho, but he’s still trying to tell you what a match you and Hongjoong are.

“All we’re trying to say is that,” Yunho pauses to move Seonghwa’s fingers from his lips, “Hongjoong’s been in a bad mood all night watching you, and now he’s chatting up another girl? I-”

Wooyoung mumbles from where he’s resting on your shoulder, “Something’s fishy,”

Yunho nods, “What he said,”

You roll your eyes for the millionth time that night. A small, naive part of you really, really wants to believe your friends. But they’re drunk, and you’ll admit you’re slightly tipsy. You’ve accepted the fact that Hongjoong will never see you as more than a good friend. You look over to Hongjoong one more time in hopes that this time you won’t feel anything, but when you turn your head you find him already looking in your direction. You can’t really tell what his expression means, but his jaw is clenched and his scrutinizing eyes remain on Wooyoung’s arms around you. It’s no coincidence or trick of the light, you’re sure, but a poorly crafted Batman passes in front of you and Hongjoong’s back to being entranced by the girl next to him.

For a second, you’re lost in space and time. You should be embarrassed and ashamed that one glance from him is enough to send you careening back into fantasies of him, but the alcohol in your system and Yunho’s encouragement makes for a deadly combination. There’s a plan forming in your head. The sober half of you is rationalizing Hongjoong’s glance and telling you it was nothing more than that; a glance. But the tipsy half tells you that you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

As Yunho sips his drink idly, you decide to take your chance, “Wanna dance, Yunho?”

He exhales sharply through his nostrils, smiling smugly because he knows exactly what your intentions are, “Sure, kitty,”

He takes your hand gently and pulls you towards the makeshift dance floor. He bows elegantly as if this is a ballroom, but he looks ridiculous doing it in a Spider-Man costume amidst people of varying states of sobriety. While you’re busy doubled over laughing at him, he sneaks his arms around you. It’s sudden when he pulls you flush against his body, brown eyes searching yours for any uncertainty before pulling your arms around his neck. For some reason, touching the nape of his neck makes you feel a certain closeness to him. Yunho leans his forehead on yours and the intimacy he’s allowing you makes you regret inviting him to dance. He really shouldn’t be pulling out all the stops for a girl who’s thinking of someone else.

Yunho takes your silence as embarrassment from his showiness, “I gotta make it believable, right?” You’ve never really thought about how tall he is until now, head tilted to only focus on you. His big hands wrap around your waist and burn where they touch.

“R-right,” you mumble, still dizzy from Yunho’s closeness.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong’s fuming behind the sea of people. Your back is to him so you can’t see the pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows painted on his face. Yunho, on the other hand, gladly takes notice when he finally looks over to him. Hongjoong’s s gone to completely ignoring the girl he was talking to, only humming ‘yeah’s’ and ‘totally’s’ when he’s prompted. He’s burning holes into your back, as if glaring will suddenly remove you from Yunho. The fuse in him blows when you laugh at something Yunho said. The sound is barely heard over the music and myriad of voices, but it still reverberates through Hongjoong like it’s a call to him. Only meant for him.

“It worked,” Yunho whispers into your ear and sends chills down your spine, “Your cowboy’s stomping over.” You look at your Spiderman smiling down at you one last time when you feel a gloved hand on your shoulder. You can’t really see under the strobe lights, but there’s surely no smile on Hongjoong’s face. He’s glaring at Yunho like you’re his property that he’s touched without permission. Yunho’s hands slide slowly off of you compared to the quick removal of yours, just to piss Hongjoong off even more. You’re sure Yunho has another sort of personal vendetta against Hongjoong now.

“Hey, cowpoke,” there’s a lazy drawl in Yunho’s voice, bordering on venomous, “wanna join us?” Yunho’s hands move to wrap around you again, but Hongjoong quickly pulls you back into his side. He’s surprised by how easily you meld into his movements, but he doesn’t know how far you’d really let him go.

“You’re both drunk,” you follow like a lost puppy as he pulls you off the makeshift dance floor, “and need to be separated.”

Yunho hums behind you, “I’m perfectly sober,”

Hongjoong scoffs and as he opens his mouth to retort, you pull away from him, “I wanna keep dancing, Joong,”

Yunho shrugs as if the issue is completely out of his hands-again, what did Hongjoong do to him?-and smiles, “You heard the lady,” Hongjoong’s eyes fixate on the taller man, fists clenching at his side. If looks could kill, Yunho would have been 6 feet under ten minutes ago. His mind races with thoughts of how to get rid of Yunho, how to keep you for himself, and how his hand is still pulsing from when he felt yours, fearing he’s become addicted to your touch already.

His tone is final, “No.”

Before you can even say anything, Hongjoong drags you through the overflow of bodies towards the upstairs of the house. You can certainly hear Seonghwa and Wooyoung hollering obscenities at you-even over the party noise-before Hongjoong leads you deeper and deeper into the surprisingly large house. The hallways grow quieter and less crowded before he finds an empty room, letting you in first. It’s quaint and sparsely decorated, the soft environment settling your nerves. As you sit on the white bedsheets, Hongjoong watches you like you’re his next meal.

He finally speaks, arms crossed and a questioning look on his face, “You good?’

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Yes. Are you?”

He doesn’t answer you because he’s not really sure if he is. In truth, Hongjoong can’t stop looking at you. He’s sure your look tonight is imprinted in his brain all the way from the short, short skirt to the ridiculously low cut top you’re wearing. He’s frustrated with himself that he feels so possessive over you, as if you’re already his. He’s frustrated with you for simply letting Wooyoung and Yunho do as they please.

You watch as he sits on the bed next to you, fiddling with the cuffs of his gloves. He’s trying to act nonchalant, but you can tell he’s holding back from scolding you with the way he’s biting his cheek. He’s good at hiding it from others, but not from you.

His words are short and sharp, “Were you having fun with Yunho?”

The question catches you off guard. You mirror him, playing with your fishnet leggings and watching him out of the corner of your eye. You’re scared he’ll say yes, but you ask anyway, “Were you?”

Hongjoong turns to you, “I asked first,”

You roll your eyes at him, “Whatever. You seemed pretty happy talking to Ms. Boobs-in-your-face,”

You’re being petty and insulting a girl you don’t even know, but the irritation from earlier is returning with a fiery revenge. It keeps building the more you think about the way her hands would continuously run down the textured white lines on his shirt. Or how he’d smile at her like she was the only person in the room. You can feel his eyes on you again and you’re too embarrassed to meet them. You’re sure he’s sporting a cocky smile now that he’s heard the jealousy dripping in your voice.

“You didn’t seem to mind Yunho grinding on you,” he spits out before he can stop himself.

That finally makes you look at him, “He was not-”

“And Wooyoung’s hands all over you,”

You gawk at him, surprised to know that he had been watching you too. Now the pettiness you’re both showing is obvious. The air is tense before you speak, Hongjoong’s intent glare making you feel small, “You know how Wooyoung is, especially when he’s drunk,”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes at you, “Doesn’t explain Yunho crawling all over you,”

You cross your arms, inadvertently pushing your tits together and Hongjoong has to hold back a groan, “Why are you so concerned with what Yunho and I do?”

There’s a mutual understanding of the jealousy coursing through the room, though it’s unspoken. In your anger, however, you can’t really process the fact that he’s possessive over you. That he’s outright admitting he thinks of you as his, and vice versa. Instead of simply kissing and making up, you keep pissing each other off. Why you keep pressing his buttons you’re not sure, but you can’t deny how hot Hongjoong looks with the black cowboy hat tilted over his face, muscular arms tensing under the dim light.

He stands to his full height again-too frustrated to stay still-moving so that he’s right in front of you, “What, so you’re into Yunho all of a sudden?”

“Did you just bring me up here so you can interrogate me on my love life?” you mumble.

His jaw clenches again, “You’re so mouthy tonight, you know that? I’m getting sick of it,”

He’s invading your space now, lips so close you could just reach up and touch them with yours, “What are you going to do about it, Hongjoong?”

The words seem to set something off in him, his lips on you so fast it’s dizzying. His warm hands automatically find their way to your hips as he pushes you backwards onto the bed. He’s finally figured out how to silence you, muffling any sounds you make with his mouth. Anything that comes from you, he wants for himself. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, both too focused on getting out all the built up feelings and frustration. Neither of you care about anything but getting more and more of each other. You feel his tongue finding its way into your mouth and you don’t put up much of a fight anymore.

He doesn’t pause his attack on your lips, panting while he speaks, “You gonna keep mouthing off, baby?”

Your mind short-circuits at the nickname. Although a large part of your annoyance has now dissipated, his lips like water to soothe the burn of your desire, you still want to see how far you can push him,

“Dunno,” you pant out.

His right hand slides up from your hip bone to your jawline as goosebumps follow the trail of his touch. A whine slips out of you when Hongjoong’s hand contracts, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout so your focus is on his words. He can’t help the prideful smirk when he hears the noise you make, happy to know he has such an effect on you.

“I know,” a kiss to your jawline, “I’m going to show you who you belong to,”

You wiggle in his grasp, but he’s holding you tight, “And exactly who do I belong to?”

He smirks down at you, thoughts running through all the ways he’s going to break you, “Oh, you’re funny,” he leans threateningly over you, “You’re very funny,”

Just because you enjoy the game of stirring him on you continue, “Yunho said the same thing,”

He smiles dangerously at you. Not dangerous in the sense of attractiveness, but more in the sense that it’s a warning to the vicious, envious territory you’re entering. You feel your resolve melting against him, the air suffocating you with the thick, heavy feeling of pent-up desire. However, he doesn’t even let you get the right words out before he sticks his thumb into your mouth. It’s surprisingly appetizing, and you don’t wait for his sign to go before wrapping your lips around it. It’s your silent apology for what you said.

Now, his smile is gentler. But it’s Hongjoong, and Hongjoong doesn’t let things go so easy.

“Sluts needs to be quiet,” he whispers softly, but it’s who it’s coming from that makes it so you hear it loud and clear. You nod in obedience, still lapping as he adds more fingers into your mouth, exploring this part of your body.

“You know what else sluts need to do?” You shake your head and open your eyes up at him, “They need to fucking behave.”

He growls, “You’re gonna take what I give you until I’ve had enough. Then I’ll give you what you want,”

You want to whine and protest, but he’s looking at you like that’s not even an option. He stares down at you, taunting and challenging you. Hongjoong knows you’re not happy about his rules, but he doesn’t care. You need to learn to forget about anyone other than him. He won’t stop until you do. Your mouth pulls off of his fingers with a pop and you realize all too quickly what a mistake you’ve made.

His eyes squint at you, “Did I tell you to stop?”

You peer up at him with a guilty look, pout heavy on your lips hoping he’ll show just the slightest bit of mercy. But once again, it’s Hongjoong. He manhandles you towards him, back to his chest and for some reason it feels like you’re a complete puzzle.

He gropes your sides, pulling you close so you can feel how hard he is for you. The feeling of him rubbing against you makes you moan, the sheer satisfaction of finally getting what you want making you high on the pleasure. You know you’re supposed to be quiet, but the excitement of going against Hongjoong just ‘cause makes you want to do it more.

You spot his blue hair out of the corner of your eye as he leans down to your ear, “You’re gonna be quiet and take it like a good slut,” His right arm comes up and around your neck, pulling you in as if you aren’t already close enough, “Unless you want Yunho to hear?”

His clothed dick is making you weak. It’s the only friction he’s given you so far and it’s already breaking and tearing you apart. You shake your head vigorously, spouting nonsense babbles as if you’re appalled Hongjoong would even suggest that. However, Hongjoong seems all too enticed by the idea of everyone hearing how loud he can make you. You try to get more from him by rutting back into him, hoping he liked your answer, but he stops your hips.

“Sluts don’t get what they want, baby,” He pants into your ear and you realize he’s just as torn as you are, he’s just better at hiding it. His hand finds its way under your skirt, fumbling to pull your panties down. The sound of your wet pussy fills the room as Hongjoong plays with your folds, agonizingly slow to make you shake with anticipation.

He smiles down at you, “You’re so fucking wet,”

Before you can say anything snappy, he slides in you. He fills you just right, and you don’t want to sound crazy, but you feel like your pussy was sculpted just for him. His cock drives in you and hits right where you need it to. It makes you want to fall over, too weak to hold yourself up, but Hongjoong stops that from even happening.

You’re whining for more, “Keep being loud and Wooyoung will hear you,”

You gasp as he thrusts in you, but it just spurs him on. Being buried in you feels right, like it’s where he was made to be. He chalks up his intensified feelings to the alcohol flowing in his system.

Your moans mix together, “Seonghwa too? Want me to make everyone in this house know who’s fucking you?”

You can barely keep your head up, much less respond to him. The bed squeaks as he thrusts in you over and over again, limbs entangled. You start to think Hongjoong may have some jealousy issues, but you don’t mind.

His hand snakes around you again, this time reaching to play with your clit. His fingers make your knees buckle, the rhythm between his hips and his hand sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You don’t have the energy to process it, but all the while he’s telling you how he’s the only one who can touch you like this.

Your lower half is on fire, white hot sparks of pleasure flowing all the way from your abdomen to your toes. All of your senses are heightened because of Hongjoong’s touch and you feel the pleasure reaching its tipping point, right before Hongjoong rips his hand away and stops his hips.

Your complaint is right on the tip of your tongue, but Hongjoong drags you like a ragdoll over him before you can get the words out. Your senses haven’t even come back to you yet, but Hongjoong looks up at you with the cockiest smile and you feel that same bliss again.

His hands on your hips turns your nervous system on again, “You wanna cum, baby?”

Your voice comes out hoarse, “Yes. Yes, please, Joongie,”

He looks up at you contemplatively, as if deciding whether you deserve to finish or not. It makes a defiant whine build up in your throat the longer he takes.

He shushes you with a nudge, “Then work for it.”

Hongjoong’s tone is final and even though you’re on top of him, there’s no room for control or for arguing. He looks up at you expectantly, simply waiting for you to obey. You want to grab his collar, make him regret talking to you like he owns you, but unfortunately he in fact does.

The cowboy hat is befitting now, so you take it for yourself. His blue hair is disheveled and tangled underneath it, but he still looks celestial. A laugh rips out of him as the hat tips over your head when you look down. You pout at him, but the giggles slip into groans when you slide down him again.

It’s entirely too distracting for Hongjoong, and he has to bite his lip to hold back from cumming on the spot. You’re too tight and wet, too perfect for him. He almost regrets putting you in this position now.

But you look too good all sweaty on top of him, mouth parted open in satisfaction, with the sound of skin against skin accompanying you. Watching you bounce with his hat on makes him feel a little crazy.

His hand reaches for your clit again, finding that spot that he’s learned your body really likes. Your back arches against his fingers, shuddering at the feeling of him. His fingers follow a pattern against you, persistent in their goal to make you cum. It’s too good, too fast. You can’t help it as your body falls over him, pleasure overriding your ability to function.

Hongjoong laughs at you, “Can't do anything on your own, huh? Dumb slut needs me to help,” You nod against his neck, hiding your embarrassed blush.

He, uncharacteristically, kisses the crown of your head. You suppose it’s an apology for the way he hauls your thighs over him, then slams you back down on his cock again. Once again, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. You feel the heat rising in you again, your body tightening up against Hongjoong.

This time there’s no signs of him stopping, his forearms keeping a tight hold of your thighs as he spears you on his cock over and over again, his desperate pants right by your ear.

He senses you’re near your tipping point, “See? All you needed was a good fucking for you to behave,”

You nod brainlessly, simply following whatever he says with only one thing on your mind.

“You can cum, baby. Want you to be loud so even fucking Yunho knows,”

You feel it coursing through you. It’s been a slow build up waves caused by Hongjoong, but now with his permission it turns into a full-on tsunami hitting you. The pleasure shoots through you, your entire body seizing up as it takes over you. Hongjoong fucks you through it with slow, shallow thrusts. Or at least he tries to, before the feeling of your tightening pussy finally pulls the orgasm out of him. He’s quick to pull out, his cum splattering all over his lower abdomen.

When you’re done, you’re left panting and sweaty on his still shirt-clad chest. You feel his racing heartbeat against your hands, heavy breaths beating against you. You look up and Hongjoong has the softest, tranquil smile for you.

“I only danced with Yunho to make you jealous,” you mumble amidst the silence.

His hand runs through your hair under his hat, “I only flirted with that girl to make you jealous,”

You’re scared by how soft and intimate it’s suddenly turned. You’re scared Hongjoong only thinks of you as a fuck buddy now, nothing more nothing less. So, You don’t say anything else.

He knows you by now, knows where every cog in your brain goes and how it works. Hongjoong pokes your cheek gently, “That means I like you a lot,”

“Oh,” you feel your heartbeat pick up speed, “me too.”

“Good,” he smiles at you again, that charming and sugary sweet smile he only gives you, “then we’ll go on a date.” You nod into him, blissful peace finally settling over you.

You’re halfway to sleep when Hongjoong speaks up again, “Can I have my hat back?”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong imagines

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sereneres · 7 months

Text

“introducing le sserafim’s only…” ⁰

le sserafim x 6th member!reader / 3.3k

summary. — “introducing le sserafim’s only extroverted member (ln yn) in 10 minutes or less.”

warnings. — reader is considered an extrovert / video format is inspired by @/jihyoruri’s yt series

🎬 — sleepy yn

“hello~” eunchae greeted quietly, the top of her face – the bridge of her nose, eyes, and forehead – the only thing visible on the screen. “we’re practicing for our debut today… which is going to be in around two weeks or so, if i’m not wrong, and–”

“cam’s too close t’your face, eunchae.” a voice – rough with sleep yet airy like a daydream – interrupts, and the younger girl blinks before moving the camera further away, revealing a bleary-eyed yn clinging to her shoulder.

“oops, didn’t realize that.” the younger girl says as she chuckled nervously, embarrassment tinting her cheeks with a light pink. “heh, if it’s not, uhm, obvious, i’m not really used to this yet.” she then sighs, frowning. “it’s starting to feel like i won’t ever get used to it.”

you also frown, raising your head from eunchae’s shoulder and sandwiching her face in between your hands. “you’ll get used to it, ‘nchae.” you murmur, eyes more wide and attentive in comparison to their normal half-lidded and hazy state. “you just have to believe in yourself.”

[oh she’s so cute-]

“m’kay.” eunchae responds, words slightly muffled by the fact that your hands were squishing her face. “c’mf you lef go mew?”

you blink, tilting your head. “what?”

the younger girl sighed – though, of course, with her cheeks pressed together, it was more like she was just blowing air out of her mouth – and took one hand off of the camera to pull down yours from her cheek. “anyway, as i was saying, our debut is in a few days, so we’re practicing for it.”

“more like we are practicing for it while yn daydreams.” yunjin snorted, plopping down beside eunchae and waving at the camera. “hello, everyone.”

“‘s nothin’ for me t’practice.” you murmur sleepily, once again laying your head on eunchae’s shoulder. “○○○’nnie said i was good to go.”

eunchae gasps dramatically, turning to you with wide eyes. “yn-unnie, you can’t just say her name like that…” she trails off, a brow raising ever so slightly. “can you?”

[lmfao not yn almost leaking her staff’s name 😭]

“don’t worry, they’ll edit this part out or at least bleep ○○○-unnie’s name.” someone says somewhere offscreen. “that’s what they did back then…”

“aw, does that mean that there’s a chance they’ll cut this part out of the video?” eunchae asks, deflating ever so slightly, a pout on her lips.

[don’t worry, eunchae, it didn’t get cut ⌃⌃]

yunjin, amused by the younger girl’s visible disappointment, laughs. “with you acting this cute, eunchae, i don’t think they’ll do that.” she says, petting the girl before looking up. “unnie, come say hi to our fans.”

there’s a sigh before a mess of black hair covers the camera, inciting shrieks and yelping from the two girls – eunchae and yunjin – and a whine from you, who had been rudely awakened by the loud screaming in your ear.

“hello.” chaewon greets, eyes bright with mischief. “i hope you’re liking the video so far and- oh wow.” she blinks, her brows furrowing. “being upside down is sort of giving me a headache, so i’ll be saying good bye for now…”

“mmph, why’re you guys s’loud?…” you murmur sleepily, eyes closing. “g’back to practice…”

[boss baby #2]

“okay…”

“yah, just who do you think you’re ordering around?”

“chaewon-unnie~”

“oh fine… urgh, those puppy eyes are so not fair.”

[they are definitely not fair.]

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“hello, everyone, i’m– mph.” you yawn, making you raise a hand to your mouth and turn your head away from the camera for good measure. “s’rry ‘bout that.” you murmur, rubbing at your eye as you blearily looked at the camera. “hello everyone, my name is ln yn and i will – hm – be your host today.”

[why does she introduce herself like this as if we don’t know who she is??? it’s cute though.]

“ev’ryone’s probably asleep right now.” you continue to say, stretching your arms up and humming quietly. “it’s pretty early ‘n the mornin’, ‘n they usually sleep late… ‘cept for ‘kura-unnie.”

you then stand up, picking up the camera in the process, and trudge outside, only to nearly bump into a more awake sakura. “ack-”

“ah, ynnie, you’re awake.” she murmurs, blinking at you with surprise and confusion on her bare yet pretty face. “i thought you said you were going to sleep in today?”

[oh?]

“that was b’fore manager-unnie told me i had somethin’ scheduled t’day yesterday night.” you sigh, scratching the back of your head and messing your hair up even more than it already was. “i jus’ wished she told me earlier… that way i would’ve slept ‘nstead of staying up.”

“is that so?” sakura asked, tilting her head with a curious look on her face. “that’s odd, manager-unnie always tells us at least a day before…”

“right?” you huff, crossing your arms. “‘s weird, but it’s whatever. i need to get ready to leave in a hour or somethin’, so ‘m gonna have to start gettin’ ready now.”

[does anyone else find the way she talks cute? no? just me? okay…]

“ah, hold on, ynnie.” she said, pulling out her phone and fiddling with it. “let me just call manager-unnie and ask if you really have a schedule today. maybe she got the date wrong.”

you said nothing in response, choosing to instead hum quietly as you watched the older girl contact your manager, occasionally looking at the camera and making funny faces in an attempt to entertain those watching.

after a quiet conversation – which would only last a few seconds for those who were watching – sakura pulls her phone away from her ear, a half-smile half-grimace on her face. “alright, ynnie, i’ve got some good news and some bad news. which one do you want to hear first?”

“the good news.”

“alright, so the good news is that you don’t have a schedule today.” she says, smiling as she watched you pump a fist in the air sleepily, something you did often whenever you were too tired to cheer loudly.

[mother kkura is back again-]

“and the bad news?”

“you have a schedule at around five in the morning tomorrow.”

[oh. that’s not- uh.]

“oh, okay… wait, what?!”

🎬 — clingy yn (sort of an extension to sleepy yn?)

“yn-unnie is the clingiest out of all of us.”

chaewon, confused, looks away from the camera to raise a brow at her youngest member. “what?”

[our pupu leader is so confused lol]

“someone asked who the clingiest member of le sserafim was.” eunchae explained, lifting her phone and showing the older girl the said comment. “see?”

“ah…” the leader was quiet for a brief moment, eyes fixed on eunchae’s phone, before she nodded her head. “yeah, ynnie, out of the six of us, is the clingiest member. in fact, she might even be the most clingiest person i’ve ever met.”

“like, there’s clingy, and then there’s yn-unnie.” the younger of the two said, giggling. “it honestly surprised me because she didn’t seem like the type to like physical contact when i first met her.”

“ynnie does looks cold on the outside but is very warm and gooey on the inside,” chaewon said before turning to the camera. “did you hear that, fearnots? our yn may look heartless, but she isn’t!”

[yn on the outside: ⛓️🌹💔☠️ vs yn on the inside: 🍫❤️🍰🍓]

“yeah! and–”

“hey, c’ld you two keep it down?” a sleep voice interrupted, sounding mildly irritated. “‘m tryin’ t’sleep here…”

[speak of the devil and she will appear…]

“ah, sorry, yn-unnie,” eunchae said apologetically, wincing as she looked away from the camera, presumably at the older girl herself.

chaewon, on the other hand, was not so apologetic. “you knew we were going to go live in this room, yn, so why did you decide to try and sleep here of all places?”

“mmph… ‘cuz the dorm felt too lonely…” came the sleepy response, making chaewon, who looked somewhat indignant only seconds ago, visibly melt like chocolate in hot milk.

[oh. my. god?!]

“see?” eunchae said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. “i told you yn-unnie was the clingiest!”

“…who ev’r said i wasn’t?”

“she even admitted it!”

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to you, you were just hugging yunjin. to said girl, you were like a blanket. a heated and weighted blanket.

to everyone else? you were practically all over her.

[she’s laying on yunjin like she’s a bed or something 💀]

“yah, yn, get off yunjin before you squish her into the couch.” chaewon sighed, tugging at your arm in an attempt to get you to stand up. “we also have to go rehearse in a few minutes, so you’re going to have to get up either way.”

you whine, nuzzling your head further into the yunjin’s neck as you pulled your wrist out of your leader’s grasp and tucked it under you. “five m’re minutes, unnie, please?”

[oh she’s so cute-]

“we don’t have five more minutes, yn-unnie.” eunchae deadpanned, staring at you through the mirror. “chaewon-unnie just said that we only have a minute or so before we have to go on stage.”

“unnie~”

[ln yn uses the attack, “puppy eyes”]

“get up, ln yn, or else.”

[it, unfortunately, does not have much of an affect on her opponent, kim chaewon, who has become somewhat immune to her attacks.]

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“our manchae is so cute…” yunjin cooed, chaewon nodding her agreement while sakura and kazuha let out hums of agreement, their eyes alight with adoration as they watched their youngest member pose with an aloof expression on her face.

[our eunchae has grown up sm T⌃T]

“she always looks cute when she’s pretending t’be serious.” you murmur, nuzzling further into yunjin’s neck as you wrapped your arms around her waist. “‘s like a kitty pretending t’be a lion…”

[ah yes, clingy and sleepy yn.]

noticing how sleepy you were getting, chaewon sighed before separating the two of you. “yn, you can’t fall asleep right now.” she murmured, looking apologetic. “you still have your photo shoot left to do, and if you miss it, we’ll have to reschedule everything.”

hearing this, you frown, having forgotten that you would be the last one to get her pictures taken. “‘m sorry unnie.” you apologized, bowing your head and rubbing at your tired eyes. “didn’t realize i was about t’sleep until m’eyes closed…”

“it’s alright, ynnie, i’m not upset.” the older girl then lifted your head up, cooing upon seeing the frown – which was, admittedly, very pouty – on your lips. “i promise, once we’re back in the car, you can go right back to sleep.” she then smiles. “sound good?”

[AAHDGAJHS??? CHAEYN <333]

now a little bit more awake than you had been moments earlier, you nod in response, and chaewon’s smile visibly grew wider as she patted you on the cheek – it was something she did often, though you never complained because, well, she was the kim chaewon – before letting you go.

“i have no idea how she can sleep so easily like that.” kazuha murmured from behind the two of you, looking at you with awe written all over her features. “it’s really cold in here.”

[such is the power of exhaustion.]

sakura chuckled, smiling as she watched you talk animatedly with chaewon. “as long as she’s with one of us, that girl could sleep anywhere.”

“that, or i’m just really comfy.” yunjin simpered, wiggling her eyebrows at the camera and at the girls.

shaking her head, sakura sighed before walking away from the two younger girls to greet eunchae, who had just finished her shoot. kazuha, on the other hand, just smiled politely, choosing not to say anything lest it sound rude.

[kazuha: 🙂]

🎬 — extrovert yn (read: introverted extrovert yn)

“for being an E, ynnie is a lot like an I.” yunjin mused as you all ate dinner, chopsticks in the air and pointed in your general direction.

[this is the first time they have ever mentioned yn’s mbti btw]

“ah, that’s right!” sakura says, eyes widening as she clapped her hands together. “i totally forgot about that.”

“wasn’t kazuha-unnie also an E?” eunchae asked, raising a brow.

“i was, but then i became an I.” kazuha murmured, taking a sip of her drink. “i had always been gotten E-something-something before though, so…”

“i feel like it’s our fault that you became an I.” chaewon said, chuckling while also looking somewhat apologetically at the japanese girl. “sorry about that, by the way.”

[they converted an extrovert into an introvert lol]

kazuha giggles, shaking a hand and dismissing the leader’s apology. “don’t worry, unnie, i’m pretty sure i was more of an I deep down. i’ve always been half-and-half between I and E anyway.” she pauses, turning to look at you. “yn, on the other hand…”

“huh?” having been more focused on your food, you had been surprised when you looked up to see all five of your members looking at you. “what’s happenin’?”

[now that i think about it, yn never knows what’s happening- she has zero self awareness 😭]

“we’re talking about our MBTI’s.” sakura explained, leaning forward with a curious look on her face. “are you sure you’re an E?”

you blink. “uh, yes…?” you say, somewhat unconvincingly. “i got entp a few months ago, right bef’re our comeback. why?”

“yunjin-unnie commented on how introverted you act despite being and extrovert.” eunchae said, pointing at said girl. “and then kkura-unnie asked zuha-unnie if she was an E, zuha-unnie said she was an I, and chaewon-unnie apologized to her for making her an introvert.”

“ah… is that so?” you hum, nodding to yourself. “when i was searchin’ up stuff ‘bout my MBTI, it said that entp’s were the most introverted extroverts.”

[…someone fact check that]

“why couldn’t you just be an introvert?” yunjin playfully grumbled as she crossed her arms and pouted. “that way, we could’ve had the biggest introverted group!”

[that title belongs to fromis_9 but okay-]

you shrug unapologetically. “‘dunno, i was just born this way.”

[yn and her idgaf attitude 😭]

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“i’m back!~”

eunchae, upon hearing your voice, perked up immediately and scrambled to get up to go greet you. “yn-unnie! what took you so long? the vending machine wasn’t that far away, was it?”

“ah, no, it wasn’t, i just had to help one of the newer staff members.” you say, chuckling. “they got lost looking for the bathroom, so i had to show them where it was before making my way back.”

[…what?]

“a new staff member?” sakura asked, looking up from her phone. “did they ask you for help or did you go to them?”

at this, you blink owlishly, unsure of how to respond. “uh, it’s a mix of both? i saw them wandering around and looking lost, but i didn’t like, go up to them or anything. i just stared until they felt me staring at them.”

[yn: 😶😶😶😶]

“that… that’s it?” chaewon asked incredulously. “you stared at them and they just came to you?”

“well, no, they noticed me staring, i gestured for them to come to me, and… yeah.” you giggled somewhat nervously, having noticed that all of your member’s eyes were on you. “then i showed them where the restroom was.”

“wow.”

[yeah, wow-]

“that’s an extrovert for you…” eunchae murmured, eyes wide. “if it was me or one of the other unnies, i don’t think we would have done that.”

“actually, i would have–”

“shut up yunjin.”

[she got shut down rq 💀]

🎬 — random moments with the fimmies.

“doesn’t it hurt your neck to do that?”

you hum questioningly, peeking an eye open to see sakura standing above you with her hands on her hips, one of her eyebrows raised. beside you, kazuha giggled quietly, the slight shaking of her shoulders making you whine in complaint.

[she’s so- AHDSBNA]

“ahem.”

“ah, s’rry, ‘kura-unnie.” you murmur, rubbing at your eyes sleepily. “what’d you say? couldn’t hear you…”

sighing but not surprised, sakura shakes her head and repeats her question. “does it not hurt your neck to always keep it twisted like that, yn?”

[twisted is… an interesting word choice.]

“twisted?” you repeat, lifting your head from kazuha’s shoulder. “what d’you mean by twisted?”

“well, you know…” noticing the lost look on your face, sakura, once again, sighed before tilting her head to the side, her cheek almost touching her shoulder. “like this. every time you sleep, you always have your head tilted like this, even when you’re in bed.”

[????]

“oh, really?” you ask, frowning. “so that’s why chaewon’nnie keeps tellin’ me that i’ve got horrible sleepin’ habits…”

“ah, is that what she was scolding you about this morning?” kazuha questioned, raising an eyebrow with an amused smile on her lips. “i was wondering what that was all about. turns out, she was just telling you off for having bad posture when you sleep.”

[chaewon = mother]

you, on the other hand, weren’t amused whatsoever, which was made very evident by the sleepy pout on your own lips. “‘s not m’fault. i just… sleep like that.”

“hm...” sakura hums, her expression . “in that case, i suppose there’s nothing we can do but force you to start sleeping with proper posture.”

“proper-” you yelp as the older girl abruptly grabs your face, squishing it between her hands and making you sit upright. “‘nnie! ‘at’re yu d’in’?!”

[…what’d she say?]

“wow, you can barely understand a single word she’s saying.” kazuha muttered, watching with apathetic eyes. “not that that’s any different from how it normally is…”

[kazuha?!!)3$]

“uh, do we even want to know what’s happening here?” chaewon asked, standing by the door with a look of concern and exasperation on her face.

“probably not?”

“no.”

“maybe??”

“‘elp!”

[💀]

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“ack-”

chaewon frowned, her brows furrowing as she turned her head. “yah, what are you doing back there?”

“nothing!” came eunchae’s very loud reply, followed by a loud thwack!, a grunt, and shrieking.

[’nothing’… sure.]

“that doesn’t sound like nothing.” the older girl said skeptically, sighing and turning to her phone with a exasperated look on her face. “i’ll be right back, okay, fearnots? i need to make sure those two aren’t doing anything dangerous.”

she then stood up to leave, waving goodbye to the camera before walking away, and it doesn’t take long for those watching the live to hear yelling – shrieking – and wailing, though no one could tell who was doing what.

[what the fuck is happening off screen 😭]

and then yunjin popped into view, her glasses askew on her face and her hair messy.

“hello fearnots, how have you been?” she asked, dropping onto the couch with a groan. “ynnie and manchae started arguing over who are the last oreo a few minutes ago, which turned into a pillow fight that they somehow managed to get zuha and kkura-unnie involved in.”

[comments: what about you?]

“me? are you asking about me?” yunjin asked, pointing to herself with a look of surprise. “i was just minding my own business in the corner of the room until then someone – i think it was kazuha? – threw a pillow at me, so i threw it back, and, well…” she gestured to her hair and face. “this is what happened.”

[yikes.]

“yah, you little-! get back here!”

“aaand i guess chaewon-unnie got involved too.” the american sighed, clicking her tongue and shaking her head in mock disappointment. “honestly, as our leader, you would think she had more self-control…”

[damn okay-]

“huh yunjin, what did you just say about me?” chaewon questioned, sounding much closer than she had been moments prior.

”nothing!” yunjin responded, smiling nervously as she glanced at something off camera. “unnie, when did you get there?”

“it didn’t sound like nothing.”

[chaewon sounds so suspicious of them 💀 that’s totally valid tho]

“aha… ha… ha.” yunjin gulped, looking away from – presumably – chaewon and at the phone in her hands. “uh, i’ll see you guys later, assuming that i don’t die right now.”

“yah–!”

[and that’s the end! make sure to like and subscribe and to hit that notification bell so that you won’t miss a single video! cheers :)]

masterlist.

#sereneres #seren.writes #kpop x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #lesserafim imagines #sakura x reader #chaewon x reader #yunjin x reader #kazuha x reader #eunchae x reader #lsfm.yn

655 notes · View notes

keeksandgigz · 5 months

Note

hi keeks! just passing by to share some eddie thoughts lolz

lately i’ve been thinking of having eddie be the first guy you give head to so you ask him to talk you through and he does!! (more like tries to) but who can blame him?? he’s trying not to blow his load in seconds while you’re trying to look up at him to see his reaction and make sure he’s liking it (which just turns you on cause he’s just moaning and throwing his head back and you can see him swallowing and and and)

anyway now that i’ve finally built up the courage to send you an ask i might keep sending more so i’m sorry in advance for the spam i might make during christmas break🙏🏻 also i’m sorry if something i said doesn’t make sense, english is not my first language lmao

thank u love!! send me all the asks ur little heart desires i'll have plenty of time to kill during christmas break <3

i honestly have no experience with being talked through my first blowjob lol i just kinda went for it. also this got a lil angsty/ fluffy i sorry.

obviously this is 18+ smut below the cut

"...but what if I like, bite it?" you say, looking up at brown eyes.

You're perched in between Eddie's hairy legs, on your knees in the uncomfortably thin carpet of his room.

Your elbows on his knees, head rested on your arm, looking at him. Fear? Nervousness? A little bit of excitement?

He's a towering mass of smattered curls, eyes shadowed by the bangs hanging low on his lids, covering the black tar pits that his eyes have become.

"You won't bite it, baby. Just keep your lips like this" he tucks his lips under the curve of your teeth, a silly smack of the lips, a quick open- close- like a fish- which makes you laugh.

He's good at this. At making everything seem easy, a lighthearted task. Not like you're giving your first blowjob or anything.

"You still want to do this, right?" he asks, petting your hair, sensing the nervousness vibrating off of you. You nod.

"Alright, sweetheart. Just let me know if you need to stop. Smack me on the leg or something, really hard" he huffs out a laugh. He may seem calm and cool but the truth is that he's literally about to bust.

You, gorgeous thing you, wanting to give him head? He gives himself the grace of five minutes (and that's a lot, still) before he cums all over himself.

So he sits there, dick out at full mast, as you work up the courage to take him into your mouth.

You switch between looking at him, then at his dick, then at him again. A subtle cry for help, as he grabs the back of your neck, cradling your head.

"It's alright, baby. You don't have to take all of it at once. I know it's a lot" he chuckles, helping you inch your head closer towards his pelvis.

You look up at him, and you feel yourself heat up at the sheer cockiness that statement alone had.

"C'mon sweetness. Open up" he whispers, "Baby steps, yeah?" he says, looking at you with the most utter devotion and a little endearment. You look so sweet looking up at him eager to please.

"Yeah" you weakly let out as you open your mouth, letting his tip nudge your tongue. He hisses. He had been waiting for this.

"The lip thing, baby. Like I told you" he says. You follow suit, tucking your lips over your teeth, still looking up at him for a sign, anything to show that what you're doing is right.

"Tongue, sweetheart. Use your tongue, please" he says, voice already strained and clouded by the sheer feeling of you holding his tip in your mouth. Feeling the slow rise and fall and jerks of your tongue under the head of his cock.

You follow his instructions and begin swirling your tongue around his tip, you cringe at yourself for thinking about the comparison your friends told you at school once. Like a popsicle. Oof.

You feel Eddie jerk in front of you. You swell with pride.

"Thaaaat's it, baby. Doin' so good" you shiver at the praise, continuing what you're doing as he takes a sharp breath through his teeth. He's not gonna last five minutes.

After a few seconds more of swirling your tongue, you decide to try what your friends have shown you countless times during sleepovers with a poor banana you didn't end up eating.

You begin to bob your head, taking more of Eddie in your mouth. A loud gasp escapes him as his tip begins to hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart. Jus' like th-that" his hips stutter, making you take way too much of him int your mouth. Using another tip your friends gave you, you tuck your thumb in your fist, trying to not make yourself gag.

The trick reveals itself to be useless, as you feel bitter bile rise up your throat. Your throat makes a gagging noise, alarming you.

You push Eddie out of your mouth as you sputter and cough at the unfamiliar feeling. Tears begin to prick your eyes from the embarrassment.

"I'm s-sorry" you pant, the feeling of humiliation creeping up your cheeks.

He tucks himself back in his boxers and gets off the bed to quickly kneel in front of you.

"Shit, I'm sorry. baby. Should've been more mindful" he cradles your face, feeling your cheeks growing hot.

"I'm just not good at it" you say, huffing defeatedly, looking anywhere that isn't his sad puppy eyes.

"No, baby. That's just not true" he pouts "Baby steps, remember? Next time we can take it slow" he says, caressing the skin of your cheeks with his thumb. All you do is nod.

"Can you show me your pretty eyes, sweetheart?" you raise your head to finally look at him. He smiles, bright and joyful. "There she is" he whispers, placing a kiss on your nose.

"My friends are a bunch of fuckin' liars, I did the thumb thing to not gag and it didn't work" you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby, you won't even need that trick once you've done it enough times" he smiles against the crown of your head, giving it a gentle kiss.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #keekswrites #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson blurb

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reiderwriter · 5 months

Note

could you write a fic with a fem reader where spencer’s going through withdrawal and he’s being like snappy and stuff when she’s just trying to help? idk if that makes sense?

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took me so long ㅠㅠ I hope this is everything you were looking for!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN! reader

Warnings: mentions of drug use, mentions of addiction in the family, and spoilers for Season 2 of Criminal Minds.

You can check out my masterlist here!

In comparison with the other members of the BAU, you had the most experience with recovery. So you knew that it wasn't easy. Spencer Reid didn't.

The moment you'd noticed him stepping out on the team, spending more time isolated and with a shorter temper, you knew. Tobias Hankel had only tortured Spencer for a day, but he was still inside him even months later.

The day you realised he was using, you moved yourself into his apartment.

“Hi,” you said as he opened the doors, bleary-eyed from whatever hit he just dealt himself. “My apartment flooded, and I had nowhere else to go.”

Spencer Reid would always help others before he helped himself. It took a few more hours to broach the discussion of the drugs, but when you did get him to give in, you could feel the weight flowing off his shoulders.

“I can't get his face out of my mind. The drugs, they help. And I know they're not really helping, but it's like I'm not strong enough to care.” He'd broken down into tears, placed his supply on the tables in front of you and picked open the wound that had never fully healed properly.

Step one to recovery was accepting you needed help. Step two was harder.

Slowly decreasing his intake until he was free of the drug. Watching him for any negative reactions in the field and at home, dealing with the underlying trauma.

You had to talk to Hotch about it, of course. But he knew about your father, and to a certain extent, you knew about his. A single shared look was enough for you both to agree that Spencer needed everyone's support.

So you dropped him off at his meetings. You picked him up afterwards. You watched him in the field for any mention of addiction and drug-related psychosis that could lead him down a dark path of what ifs.

You held his hand. You kissed his head. You were there.

Even when he tried to show you he didn't deserve it.

“Spencer,” you'd started the conversation trying to get his attention, knowing from the far away look that he was missing the numbness that came with the high.

“Spencer, you look tense. Are you okay?” He'd whipped his head around at the words, a scowl on his face.

“You don't need to hover over me like I'm a child, Y/N.”

“I want to know that you're okay.” You said back, pouring yourself a glass of water to calm yourself again. Sometimes, Spencer made every little question an attack, and you had to learn to dodge the blows.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I want to take care of you.” Your calm reply had him angrier though, as he snorted with a single reply.

“Like you took care of your dad? That worked out so well, didn't it.”

Ten years and any mention of the man who had raised you still had you freezing in shock. You almost didn't notice when your glass tumbled to the ground, to be smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.

It was almost as if the crash woke Spencer up from his stupor, his gaze growing regretful as he stood and approached you quickly.

With a hand and a shake of a head, you stopped him, though.

“Let me clear the large pieces on my own. I don't want you to get hurt.” Kneeling, you did just that, picking out recognisable edges and sides and transporting them carefully into the trash.

“I'm not going to sit here and let you do all the work, Y/N. I'm… I'm sorry.” His voice whispered those last few words as he kneeled next to you sweeping the glass up, careful not to cut himself on it.

You wiped the tears from your eyes as both of you worked busily, letting your argument hang in the air between you.

“I know you're sorry, Spencer,” you whispered as the two of you worked, still not brave enough to look him in the eyes. “My dad was, too. He never meant it, though.”

“I mean it.” He stopped moving, and you finally looked up to his eyes, to the life there that sparked, that had been buried by Tobias Hankel. Motivation.

With the glass cleared, he stood, reaching out a hand to you to help you up. You took it, letting him assist you. He didn't let go after, though. Not immediately.

He stepped closer, and you relaxed into his chest, resting an ear over his heart. It was still beating, and that was what mattered.

“I can't fix you, Spencer. I can't make this better. I can't do that for you, because you have to do it for yourself. That's what my dad never understood.” Your voice was barely audible, but you knew he could hear and knew he was listening.

“I can't reverse what he did to you. But I promise, I will be here to remind you that you are a good man. To remind you of what you are like when you're you how much I love you, how much we all love you.”

“I'll stand next to you and look into that mirror every morning and tell you what I see. A good man on the bad days, the same man on the good days. I don't want to fix you, Spencer. I want to love you, and I want you to accept that you're worth it.”

His head rested on top of yours, and you could feel his small wrecks of tears as he sniffled. Inhaling your scent, he could've spent the night wrapped in your arms like that.

“Thank you. For saying that. For being here. I know it's not easy.”

“It's not. But you're worth it.” Clinging to him, you let the moments tick by, never releasing him from your warm embrace.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #mgg #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 8 months

Text

Home Is Where The Heart Is.

Synopsis - They say home is where the heart is. Your heart belongs to four guys you call your best friends. Also known as - four important times the boys told you they loved you.

Pairing - Frankie Morales, Will Miller, Santiago Garcia, Benny Miller x Female Reader.

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - is it weird that I have sort of compared each boy to a room in the house? maybe! but we're rolling with it, because it worked in my head. this is the first of a few fics like this, much like Tethered, Time and Tranquility - I have a few different TF boy comparison ideas. love these babies so much. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You follow the laughter floating down the hallway into your backyard. Standing against the doorframe, you watch as the boys double over in amusement while Benny reenacts the time Frankie fell in your pool. Their faces are illuminated by the golden glow of the fairy lights adorning your deck, moonlight shining down.

"And none of you helped me! Hermosa had to come and rescue me! At least I know who loves me the most," Frankie chuckles, tilting back in his chair to catch your eyes.

You make your way over and kiss him on the cheek, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I don't think there was ever any debating that. You've always been my favourite," you coo, ruffling his hair gently.

"Give us a break," Benny teases. "We all know I'm your favourite, sweetheart."

Santiago scoffs and jabs Ben in the ribs, yelping when the younger man elbows him in retaliation.

"Cariño, put them out of their misery. Tell them I'm your favourite."

You catch eyes with Will, who's grinning at you across the table. He doesn't even have to say anything. He raises his eyebrows and winks at you, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. You can't help but smile back.

"I mean, Will is currently very high on the list, because he built this table for me today."

Everyone groans as you and Will laugh, knocking on the table to check his handiwork.

"You did a good job," Frankie praises, kicking at a leg to see if it holds.

"I built your couch!"

"You can't build a couch, Ben."

"He did! It needed assembling!"

Benny blows you a kiss, thanking you for the assist.

"I did most of the painting," Santiago chimes in.

"Until your weak ass knees gave in," Frankie laughs.

Santi shoots daggers at him, both of them chuckling.

"Me and Hermosa tiled her bathroom. That took fucking forever."

"Frankie, I told you that I'd call a guy for that, and you told me you were the guy."

"You can't tell me those tiles aren't gorgeous."

You shrug, squeezing him tight.

"You're right. They are. I admire them everytime I shower."

"Ooo, tell us more," Benny teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Pervert," you and Will say in unison, both shaking your heads.

You settle into the chair next to Frankie, popping the cap off your beer.

"I honestly don't think I'd have any furniture without you guys. This house wouldn't be a home if it wasn't for you."

All of their attention is on you, focusing as if you're the only girl in the world. You feel like it sometimes, when you're all together.

"I can't believe you've been moved in for an entire year," Santi muses. "Feels like only yesterday we were helping you unpack all those boxes."

"Time flies when you're having fun," you beam at him.

As the evening settles and the sun begins its descent, you start to think about just how many parts of the boys live in your house. The furniture, the paint, the lights. At least one of them helped you with basically every single element. You think of all the memories filled with happiness and laughter that have happened here over the last year, and your eyes well with tears. You meant what you said, earlier. Your house wouldn't be a home without them.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Living Room. Benny.

You're tangled with Ben on your newly assembled couch, a cheesy romcom acting as background noise. We have to test it out, he'd said. Just in case.

So here you are, nestled into his side, strong arm slung over your shoulder to pull you closer. You sip your drink, paying virtually no mind to the movie. You're making a mental list of all of the things you still need to do for the house - tile the bathroom, buy a lawnmower, paint literally every room. But the couch is a start.

"I can hear the cogs turning in that brain of yours," he laughs, pinching your side. "We're supposed to be relaxing. You know, really getting a feel for the couch."

"Right, right. Sorry," you chuckle, nudging him with your shoulder in retaliation. "Just thinking about all of the shit I've gotta do."

"Hey, we've got plenty of time. And you've got four guys ready to do whatever needs to be done. There's no rush."

Exhaling loudly, you realise he's right. There is no rush. Yes, you may have a never ending list of things you need to get done, but there's no time limit. You can take each job as it comes.

You turn your attention back to the movie, discovering that it's actually half decent. By the time you're an hour into it, you and Benny are laughing along. It's a sweet coming of age story, two teenagers falling in love for the first time.

You watch as the two characters share a kiss, all clumsy hands and unsure touches. You smile, and start to think.

"This bringing back memories, Ben?" you tease.

"Oh yeah. First time I ever made out with a girl, I couldn't get her bra undone. I was trying to give her a hickey at the same time, and I snapped the clasp against her so hard I made her bleed. Safe to say, we didn't make out again."

Both of you are crying with laughter, vibrating the couch with it.

"I can see the image so clearly. Teenage Ben with his frosted tips and his puka shell necklace. Bet you broke some hearts, huh?"

"Shut up," he chuckles. "I got tonnes of girls back then."

"I'm sure you did," you joke, pinching his cheeks.

He pinches your thigh and pulls you closer, settling back into the cushions.

"You know, I've never had one," you say after a while.

"Had what?"

"A hickey."

Ben pulls away and turns to face you, looking at you incredulously.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Never got one as a teenager. Now I'm a grown ass adult, I always warn my partners not to leave marks. Guess I just missed out on the whole hickey thing."

Ben smiles at you, mischief rife in his eyes.

"You want one?"

You quirk your brow and turn your body towards him, putting some distance between you to look at him properly.

"What game are you playing, Benny Miller?"

He laughs, and the sound makes you smile so wide it's blinding.

"No games, baby."

"No?"

"I believe getting a hickey as a teenager and having to figure out how to cover it up in embarrassment is a rite of passage. And I'm weirdly sad you missed out on it. So, I'm offering to give you that experience."

"Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Exactly. Because I am a kind, selfless, giving guy."

You pause for a moment, watching his face carefully.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "Show me what you've got, makeout king."

He chuckles at the nickname, but grabs your thighs to pull you closer. Benny plants a knee between your legs and leans over you, using a strong hand to hold onto your jaw. You tilt your head to the side, and brace yourself for his lips.

Instead, he takes his time. He noses up your neck, and then traces the path with the tip of his tongue. He blows onto your heated skin, making you shiver. Humming at your reaction, he leans in again, and connects his lips to the spot underneath your ear, kissing it softly.

"Benny," you breathe. "Don't tease."

"Whatever you want, baby."

Benny picks a spot on the side of your neck and sucks. When he's satisfied, he grazes his teeth over the mark, and uses his tongue to soothe the sting. Your eyes roll back, and you cant your hips into his knee between your legs.

You both lose yourself in the moment, chests heaving and breath panting. You separate yourselves to look at one another for a moment, neither of you breaking the gaze.

Suddenly, you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to stop it escaping. Within seconds, Benny joins you. Before you know it, you're both crying tears of joy, sides hurting and abs aching.

"Oh shit," you choke out between giggles. "How the fuck am I gonna cover this up?"

"That's half the fun, baby!"

"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking his side. "You're the worst."

"I love you too," he grins. "You're the best."

And when the rest of the guys ask what happened the next day, you and Benny discover that you make good improv partners. No one questions your elaborate story involving the couch and a runaway screwdriver. Benny winks at you cheekily, and you can't help but smile.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Bathroom. Frankie.

Repeated knocking at your front door breaks you out of your reality TV induced haze. You check your phone for the time. 8:34pm.

You swing it open to be met with the sight of Francisco Morales. He has Ava perched on his hip, fluffy pink backpack held in his other hand.

"Hey, you guys. You okay?"

"Hermosa, I'm so sorry for just dropping in with no warning. I have a favour to ask."

"Anything."

"Can I bathe Ava here? We're having some sort of plumbing emergency in our bathroom, and we can't get a guy out until tomorrow. I want her to have clean hair for when I take her back to her Mom's."

You wink at Ava, who sticks her tongue out at you cheekily. You mimic her and smile, glancing back to her Dad, who looks like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders.

"Of course you can," you assure, reaching over to grab Ava from Frankie's arms. "Come on, baby girl. Let's get you clean!"

Frankie exhales a sigh of relief, and follows the two of you upstairs, locking the door behind him.

"Frank, did you bring shampoo and stuff, or shall we just use mine?"

He unzips the backpack and pulls out a couple of bottles.

"I have shampoo, and conditioner, but no body wash or anything."

You root around in your cabinet, finding a bottle with a label that contains words like sensitive and hypoallergenic.

"Vanilla and chamomile. Is that satisfactory for you, my princess?" you tease, grinning when Ava beams at you at the nickname.

You turn the water on and start to run the bath, trying to ignore the way you can feel Frankie's eyes on you as you bend over the tub.

"Bubbles, or no bubbles?" you ask, already knowing the answer. "Right. Stupid question."

"These tiles are hideous," Frankie says from behind you.

"Thank you, Frank. Appreciate it," you tease. "I'm gonna call a guy about getting it all retiled."

"What?"

"Don't call a guy!"

"Why not?"

"I'll do it."

You look at him in confusion, before realising he's very serious.

"Do you... know how?"

"Hermosa, it's not rocket science. We can figure it out together."

You deliberate for a moment, looking at him carefully.

"Okay. As long as you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't."

You smile at him before leaving and disappearing downstairs for a minute, trusting Frankie to watch the water.

"Where did you go?" he asks on your return.

"I just put a towel in the dryer, so it's warm when she gets out of the tub."

Frankie steps over to you and cradles your face in his hands, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. He's always been good at that - saying so much without saying a word.

"Princesa, you need help?" you ask, laughing as she struggles, head stuck in her shirt.

Soon enough, Ava's sat happily in all the bubbles, splashing around in the warm water. You and Frankie sit on the floor next to the tub, legs tangled and bodies pressed together. You lean in and rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you.

"Thank you for this. Seriously. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"It's no problem, Frankie. I love seeing her. Wish I saw her more."

"Me too," he says quietly.

You look up at him, and grab his chin so he meets your eyes.

"You're a damn good Dad, Francisco Morales."

He goes to protest, but you cut him off.

"You are. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You're doing a good job. I mean, look at her. She's happy, she's healthy, she loves you so much. What more could you ask for?"

Frankie stares at you for a moment.

"You're right."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Shut up," he laughs, dipping his hand into the bath water to splash you. You splash him back, and before you know it, the three of you are completely soaked. Completely happy.

You eventually get around to cleaning Ava's hair, shampooing and conditioning as carefully as you can. She loves the fact she gets to use your body wash, and slathers herself in it, making you both smile.

You wrap her in the dryer warm towel and sit her in your lap on the floor, rocking gently as she snuggles into your chest. Frankie pulls you both against him, wrapping his arms around you tightly. The three of you sit for a while, peaceful and content.

"I know I don't tell you enough," Frankie murmurs. "But I love you."

"You tell me everyday, Frankie."

"I do?"

"You don't always have to say it out loud, but I know. The way you smile at me across a room, the way you always have one eye on me when we're in public, the way you trust me with Ava. You tell me you love me in a million different ways, every single day."

"I love you," he says again, surer this time.

"I love you. Both of you. So much."

When Ava falls asleep in both of your arms, you convince them to stay the night. The next day, she can't stop telling everyone about the best sleepover ever, with her Dad and her best friend.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Kitchen. Santiago.

You're completely in your own world. An upbeat, catchy melody hums from the radio and radiates around the room as you slide across the tiles in your socks. You grab your mixing bowl from the cabinet, picking up the bottle of vanilla extract too.

Your hips are swaying, head nodding, feet tapping along to the beat. The sunlight is beaming through the kitchen window, keeping the room bright and warm. There's flour covering every possible surface, sugar sprinkled over the counters. An array of bowls, cups and spoons litter the worktops - a visual representation of your efforts. You've barely even began baking, only just having measured your ingredients. You've set yourself up for an entire day of preparation, ready for the exciting occasion.

You're humming away to yourself, completely oblivious, when two hands plant themselves on your hips from behind. You shriek and throw your elbow backwards, connecting with the person's ribs. You spin around to face your attacker, only to be met with the sight of Santiago Garcia hunched over.

"Fuck!" he groans, clutching at his side.

"Shit! Santi, fuck. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Welcome home to me, I guess," he laughs breathlessly.

"Are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, Santi. I thought you were an intruder or something. You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow!"

He smirks slowly, before winking at you.

"Surprise."

You finally calm your rapid heartbeat down enough to register what's happening. You grin at him, before running and jumping into his arms, holding onto him as tight as possible.

"I missed you so much," he breathes into your hair. "Four months is too long."

"I've been counting down the days," you whisper into his neck. "We all have."

He finally puts you down to take a good look at you.

"You look good, cariño. This dress is real pretty."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

He knows what.

"Looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?"

He laughs, twinkle in his eye. The sun has kissed his skin while he's been away. He looks tanned, glowy, alive.

"Last time you looked at me like that, we ended up naked in your hot tub."

"Good times, huh?"

"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking him on the arm.

Santi looks around, and takes in the scene before him. Ingredients scattered, bowls full, oven preheated.

"What are you making, cariño?"

You survey the kitchen quickly before answering.

"Nothing."

He smiles, Cheshire cat style.

"Nothing? You've measured everything out. The oven is on."

You're trying to figure out a way to cover this up, to make up a lie as fast as possible, but it's no use. He can see right through you. You might as well be transparent when it comes to the boys.

"I'm making you a cake," you mutter quickly under your breath.

"What was that? Hmm?"

You roll your eyes and scoff, but give him what he wants.

"I'm making you a cake."

He looks genuinely surprised, gentle smile gracing his face.

"You are?"

"Yeah. I wanted to do something special for you coming home. Tomorrow."

"Sorry, cariño. I didn't know I was coming back early. Thought I'd make the most of it and surprise you."

"Well, now your surprise cake and your surprise party aren't a surprise anymore."

"There's a party too?"

"Shit."

The two of you laugh as he slings an arm around your shoulder.

"Thank you, cariño. You didn't have to do all this for me."

"I wanted to. I'm so excited that you're back, Santi. There's so much I've missed doing with you."

"I made a list."

"Of?"

"Of things I wanted to do with you when I got back. It's what kept me going - thinking of going to that lunch spot with the sandwiches we like, our annual road trip to Cali. It kept me sane."

You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You lean up and press your forehead to his, both of you exhaling. You stay tangled together for a long moment, enjoying each others long awaited company.

"You know what was on the top of my list, though?"

"What?"

"Painting your goddamn kitchen."

You laugh, pulling back to look at him incredulously.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly. This colour is fucking awful."

"It's not that bad."

"It's terrible."

"Fine, fine! Whatever you want, Santi. You can paint my kitchen if that's what your heart desires."

"It is," he grins. "I can think of nothing I want more. We'll do it this weekend."

"Okay," you smile. "Now, about this cake..."

"Can I help you?"

"I can think of nothing I want more."

"I love you," he tells you, stroking a thumb across your cheekbone.

"I love you too. So much, Santi."

The two of you spend the afternoon baking Santiago's cake, singing and dancing around the kitchen. You turn a blind eye to him licking the spoon and sticking his fingers in the icing. You're just glad to have him back, annoying you again.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The Bedroom. Will.

"Can you pass me that screwdriver please, honey?"

You would, but you can't take your eyes off the man currently kneeling on your bedroom floor. His chest is glistening with sweat, warm in the morning sun. The light illuminates the room in balmy hues of gold, shadows dancing across your faces.

You and Will agreed to dedicate today to building all of your flat pack furniture. You've been sleeping on the floor for weeks, and it's finally taken a toll on your back. So, Will showed up bright and early, ready to tackle your bed, dresser, nightstands, desk, and whatever else presented itself. You were barely awake, still in your pyjamas, sleep heavy in your veins. But the sight of Will, toolbox in hand and smile on his face? That's enough to motivate anyone to assemble furniture all day.

"Honey?"

"Shit, sorry. The green one?"

"Please."

He smirks at you like he's reading your dirty thoughts. He probably is, knowing him. If anyone you knew turned out to be telepathic, it'd be Will. You're convinced he was some sort of psychic in a past life.

"You okay over there?"

"Yeah, I'm good. You need a hand?"

"Come hold this up for me while I screw it in."

You shuffle over to sit next to him, leaning over to hold the piece he's gesturing towards. He's trying desperately not to look down your shirt, and you're trying desperately to ignore the way he smells like heaven.

"C'mere," he murmurs under his breath, scooting backwards so you can get closer to the bed frame. He grabs your hips and pulls you so you're sat between his legs, holding onto the wood steadily. He wraps his arms around you from behind and gets to drilling, placing the screws in perfect rows.

Every now and again, he stops to press a kiss into your hair, or onto your cheek. You smile every single time, heat creeping across your chest. He eventually changes his path, trailing the kisses down onto your neck, shoulders, back. You're breathing so heavily you wonder if you're about to pass out.

"I like this colour," he whispers into your ear.

It takes a moment for your mind to register what he said.

"...Hmm?"

"The colour on your walls. I like it."

"Oh," you murmur. "Santi helped me pick it. He was only gonna do the kitchen, but then we were on a roll, so we ended up painting every room in the house."

He chuckles, tightening his arms around you and encouraging you to relax. You lean back into him, resting your head on his firm shoulder.

"This place is really beautiful, you know," he says lowly. "It's so... you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"The best thing. Beautiful house for a beautiful girl."

"You're a smooth talker, Miller."

"I learned from the best."

The two of you sit intertwined for a while, reveling in the comfort the other person brings. After a while, Will speaks.

"Okay, strong girl, you wanna help me put the mattress onto it?"

You flex your biceps, making you both laugh.

"I mean, I could do it single handedly... but sure, I'll help you."

"That's my girl."

You both make light work of the mattress, picking it up and throwing it onto the frame effortlessly. Will helps you put on your sheets and pillows, standing back to admire his handiwork.

"We did a good job."

"You did a good job, Will. I just sat over there and stared at you the whole time."

"Thought I felt eyes on me," he laughs.

You don't know where it comes from, the sudden honesty. It creeps up your throat out of nowhere, clawing to escape.

"I'm always looking at you."

Will turns to look at you, confusion written across his face.

"No matter where we are, or what we're doing. The most interesting thing in the room is always you."

His features soften, gentle smile tugging at his lips. He strides towards you and cradles your face in his big hands.

"I love you," he tells you so sincerely it makes you want to cry.

"I love you, William Miller. My love for you is just so... overwhelming. Some days I just want to scream it from the rooftops. I don't know what else to do with it."

"Give it to me," he says without missing a beat.

"What?"

"All the love. Don't throw it into the abyss. Give it to me. I want it."

You grin at him, a bright, blinding thing. He reciprocates, before leaning down and smashing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your knees give out from the sheer love he's kissing you with, both of you tumbling to the floor.

You pull his shirt over his head, exposing his gorgeous, sun soaked skin. He's so broad it makes you clench your thighs together. He tugs your shirt off and throws it across the room, paying no mind to where it lands. The two of you don't separate your lips for more than a second.

He's rutting his hips into yours, the friction making you dizzy. You try and push his jeans down, fingers fumbling with the button. He takes pity on you and shoves them down himself, adding them to the pile of clothes scattered across the room.

Will wastes no time, throwing his boxers behind him and pulling your underwear down your legs. He pushes into you with effortless ease, both of you ready and eager. You unanimously groan in relief, panting rapidly. You claw at his shoulders, leaning up to connect your lips.

"I love you," he whispers against your mouth, hips gliding into yours.

"I love you," you gasp, resting your forehead against his. "I love you I love you I love you."

Will slides a hand down your body to rub quick circles between your legs, dipping his tongue into your mouth as he does it. He's swallowing your moans, licking the whines from your lips. He can't get over how sweet they taste.

"Come for me, honey. Give it to me, good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

You back arches off the floor, nails scratching down his back. Your vision goes white, stars clouding your view. Will groans, deep and low, spilling into you. You both ride out your highs while Will murmurs sweet sentiments into your ear, against your skin, into your mouth.

He collapses onto you, smothering you with his weight. You don't mind. Every part of your body is touching a part of his, and it still isn't close enough. It'll never be close enough. You could sew yourself into his ribcage, and you'd still want to be closer to his heart.

The only sounds that can be heard are two sets of heaving lungs. When you've snapped back to reality, you thread your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails across his scalp and smiling when he leans into your touch.

"Will?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Why did you just build me a bed, and then fuck me on the floor?"

He takes a moment to register what you've said, before breaking out into contagious laughter. He's vibrating against you, both of you high on each others company.

"I didn't even think," he wheezes. "Fuck, we're idiots."

"You can say that again," you chuckle. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Will rolls off and lies next to you, linking his fingers with yours.

"You ready to keep building?"

As much as you'd happily stay where you are forever, it would be nice to have actual furniture in your bedroom.

"Let's do it," you say as you sit up.

You scramble around for your clothes, both of you beaming at each other as you get dressed. You walk over and wrap your arms around his neck, looking up at him.

"I can't wait for you to move in."

He grins at you, pecking your lips.

"I can't wait either. Two more months and my lease is up. Then you're stuck with me forever, honey."

"I wouldn't say stuck. More like the luckiest girl in the world."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Shut up," you laugh, grabbing the toolbox. "Let's build our furniture, shall we?"

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"You've made this place really beautiful, you guys."

"Beautiful house for a beautiful girl," Will grins at you across the table.

"Ugh, I hate when they do that," Benny complains.

"Do what?"

"Look at each other like that. It's like they're communicating through their minds, or something."

"We're silently talking about you, dipshit," Will teases, jabbing his brother in the side.

"Before the Millers kill each other, we bought you a present, hermosa. Think of it as a one year housewarming gift."

Frankie hands you a large rectangular parcel, wrapped carefully. You rip open the paper, discovering a large, ornate picture frame. In it, is your favourite picture in the world.

You and Will's first dance.

Frankie had taken the picture, unbeknownst to the two of you. You're both swaying to the music, arms wrapped around your husband's neck, completely lost in each other. Around you, the lights twinkle as your closest friends and family look on in awe.

"Frankie," you breathe. "Thank you. All of you. I love it so much."

"We thought you could hang it above your fireplace," Santiago offers. "In that big empty space."

"It's perfect," Will agrees.

"It's like the final piece of the puzzle," you whisper. "Now our home feels complete."

You trace your fingers over the frame, overwhelmed with adoration for the four boys staring back at you.

"I love you all," you tell them, glancing around the table. "So much."

"Love you, hermosa."

"Love you too, cariño."

"Love ya, baby!"

"I love you, honey."

The chorus makes you beam so bright, you're convinced your smile can be seen from space.

@kmc1989 @modernperplexity @sia2raw @pimosworld

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 14 days

Note

So, I been curious and I wonder if you have answers; how strong is Idia? I know physically that a new born kitten could woop him, while technology wise not even the master control could stand against him, but what about magic wise? And where does he stand in comparison to the other dorm heads? I know in ch 6 he was strong as heck but isn't that mainly because he was getting energy from the blots?

(Thank you for your time)

Mmm, well... I don't think "magic strength" alone accounts for how good of a mage someone is. You could have all the power in the world but could be a terrible mage just because of how you use it (like if you lack control), or perhaps because you can only cast a few powerful spells before you blow through your energy reserves. All spells are also not made equal; there are defensive spells, offensive spells, healing spells, and more! Because of all that, it's hard for us to really quantify how "strong" a mage is, because really each mage seems to specialize in their own skillsets. It's not "which class is the strongest?" but rather "which class fits your preferred play style?" For this reason, I'm not going to be formally ranking the dorm leaders but instead will point out their strengths and weaknesses.

As Idia points out in book 6:

Riddle has an artificially large magic pool because he started his magical training from a young age. He is capable of casting strong spells and favors offense, but also has low physical stamina and tires easily (from blot accumulation) because he tries to brute-force. His mental state is also said to be heavily impacted by external factors.

Leona can cast spells quickly and effortlessly; his magic pool is described to be "huge", but we don't know how this really relates to the other problem children in terms of scale. He also seems to boast precision, as he can "tailor" his defensive spells' strength to counter his opponents. Because of how efficient Leona is, he barely accumulates unnecessary blot. Stress does not have much effect on how fast he produces blot, but intense emotions do cause a significant spike in him. Additionally, Leona is skilled in flight due to playing magift/spelldrive.

Azul is a relatively slow spellcaster but makes up for that with precision and access to a variety of spells. He watches the flow of a battle, keeps cool, and then plays support/heals as needed. Idia also notes that while Azul can cast many different spells, Azul also does not have a large enough magic pool to support them and so has to be more careful about what and when he uses his magic.

Vil is very stable across the board and is quite resilient to blot. Stress does not have a huge effect on him, but the blot does seem to stick around for longer because of his larger magic pool. Something else to keep in mind is that Vil excels in making potions, which is another form of magic.

Please keep in mind that these refer to mainly COMBAT scenarios, which are not the only cases in which you would use magic... so this isn't an entirely accurate assessment; it's just the most convenient assessment since the game blatantly lays the comparisons out for us. Let's now piece together what we know of the remaining dorm leaders based on lore we have:

Kalim does not strike me as someone who has a particularly large pool of magic (it's never commented on, nor shown). I'd place him at around normal until otherwise refuted by the canon. We know he's not particularly proficient in his studies, as he just barely scrapes by in classes with intense help from Jamil. This may not always translate to poor performance in practical settings, but we also have no standout moments of Kalim pulling off impressive spells or being a notable mage. He also doesn't seem to be aware of the practical or strategic uses for his own UM unless others in his immediate vicinity are in need of large amounts of water. It's possible that he's incredibly powerful, but lacks awareness of how to best utilize his magic.

Malleus is stated in the lore to be one of the top 5 mages in the WORLD. He uses magic on a daily basis and barely blinks an eye to when he does amazing feats like STOPPING TIME ITSELF. Book 7 also reveals to us a hypothesis that fae might have access to an essentially limitless reserve of magic because they pull that magic from nature itself. I'd say that this definitively places Malleus at the top of the "magical power" hierarchy--there was never any doubt about that, the problem just comes in trying to sort everyone else under him.

And then there's Idia, whom we don't really see performing magic much by himself. No, he prefers to tinker with his computer parts which, technically, can count as magic since technomancy is the combination of technology and magic. (Does Ortho count as something resulting from Idia's "magic power"??) It's hard to say.

If I had to guess, I would think Idia is another stable user like Vil but is also highly volatile like Riddle (due to his guilt and grief being the main source of trauma). Idia HAS to cast spells or input magic into his devices because of his curse; if he does not accumulate blot, there's nothing for his curse to dine on... so it'll dine on his own magic instead, which can be detrimental to his health and wellbeing. (This is why the Shrouds are perfect candidates to work at STYX and research blot. All the blot present in STYX HQ fuels them and feeds their curses.) This implies Idia has to have output, and consistent output at that. More blot present in the immediate area may be able to power him up more and allow him to cast more spells/cast spells more frequently, but that's again highly dependent on his environment. Idia has the "flexibility" that the other dorm leaders lack, which can be a curse or a blessing given the scenario. Make of that what you will!

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gotham-daydreams · 7 months

Note

what would have happened if reader actually snapped at one of the batfam before they leave, causing the batfam to investigate their room and notice the readers life way before they leave?

Honestly if that did happen I don't think the reader would even get the chance to reach their friend's place.

Once the reader snaps, you know a whole dump of shit the Batfam has done to them in the past is just going to come pouring out. So depending on the person, the initial reaction would be different, if only slightly?

Bruce would go to Alfred before going to your room, the events being similar to how he ends up going to the reader's room in "Not Here", but instead, Bruce asks if he has actually done the things that the reader mentioned. With Alfred responding in his usual sassy, but to the point manner.

Dick would be frozen in place before trying to reach out and talk to the reader- only for them to harshly shove him with strength he didn't even know they had, and that keeps him in place for a while as they storm off. He decides that he'll check their room and ask Alfred — and which ever he comes across first, is what he ends up doing, before moving on to the other thing. Though either way, he ends up in the reader's room eventually.

Jason would be speechless at first, then annoyed a little bit. He's barely around, why should he get all this shit because the rest of the family have been unintentional assholes to the reader?... Then, he thinks about it... since he's clearly shown up enough to still help with fucking up the reader- especially to the point of them blowing up. So, he'd look in their room to investigate first, before asking Alfred any questions.

Tim just wouldn't know what to do. He'd stand there stupidly, mostly confused and shocked himself as he does try to reach out for the reader, but it's already too late. They reached the front door and left. Just like that. However, he doesn't waste much time and immediately starts his investigation. He might call Alfred while he's searching the reader's room, or even when he's on the way there, so that way he can multi-task and find out more about the reader quicker.

Cass is hurt, and does unintentionally let the reader go as they leave, but takes a minute before doing anything. She's in disbelief, but the pain done to the reader is so clear that she feels stupid how she didn't see it before. Even in their anger she could see the anguish and betrayal all over their body, and it pains her as much as the reader's words did. It takes her a minute to process anything, but afterward she searches for Bruce, Tim, and Alfred so that she can possibly get some answers. It's only after does she go to the reader's room.

Damian would be more confused than anything. (And let's be honest, out of everyone- he'd get the least of it. Mostly because he's so young and yeah, anger is unrational at times, I feel like in comparison to everyone else, who are worse offenders because they're older and have been influencing Damian's behavior towards the reader (albeit unintentionally), he just wouldn't get as much anger or anything directed towards him. Whereas with everyone else? Eh- I can't exactly say that's the case.) However, he would at least make an effort to ask Bruce, Dick, and or Alfred about the reader and how his and everyone else's behavior has effected them. Along with if they've noticed certain things about them and such. Only going to the reader's room with one of the three already accompanying him.

As for Babs and Steph...

Barbara would try to get the reader to calm down so that they could further talk- only to get ignored. She'd immediately try to talk to Bruce or Alfred, maybe even Dick or anyone she comes across before heading into the reader's room. Just considering it, before deciding that someone should do it, if someone else hasn't already.

Stephanie would also need a minute, before looking for people and making calls to the rest of the Batfam. Hurt and freaked out for how badly the Batfam as treated the reader, and what the reader might do now.

On the off chance that the reader blows up on Alfred, he just takes it before finally deciding that something should really be done. So if the reader blowing up at someone else doesn't light the fire immediately, he will do it for them.

Regardless of how it starts or who the reader ends up blowing up at- things hit the fan pretty fast.

Again, the reader doesn't even manage to make it to their friend's place before getting confronted, and basically cornered.

The moment the family finds out about all they can from the reader's room, it plays out similarly to "Not Here" except if you skip the part where they search the Manor, and instead go straight to Gotham. They find the reader easily since they're out in the open (and promptly ignore how they almost missed the reader, but the person who suffered the brief wrath of the reader was able to recognize them, so they had to do a double take to confirm). However things don't go great, maybe even arguably worse in comparison to Part 3 seeing as the reader hasn't had time to really cool down, and is already sick of the Batfam.

It just goes as terribly as you'd expect, and hey, maybe if a few of the wrong buttons are pushed, certain things happen instead of others. But if they're left alone, maybe the reader will get a bit of breathing space before it's inevitable invaded again.

Either way they'd be pushy, clingy, and would not leave the reader alone for a second- maybe even having them discuss parts of their life, along with certain events that have happened to them, so it can feel like the Batfam and the them are 'bonding'. (Even if the reader is very uncomfortable, in reality, and just ready to leave- but the Batfam is basically nailing them in place by staying close and invading their personal space.)

The Batfam becomes a part of the reader's everyday life as they don't want to miss a single day ever again. Not one. Even if the reader doesn't 'live' in the mansion anymore, but they'll move back in eventually, surely. The Batfam will take care of it either way.

With everything and anything the reader does, they'll find a way how to be there one way or another. But if they get too impatient? I'm sure you can imagine what happens from there.

Tldr: Things still go horribly, but just much faster than normal! :]

I hope this answered your question! If you'd like for me to clarify on anything or go into more detail on a specific thing I mentioned, feel free to send an ask! If anyone else has another question or anything or the sort, feel free to do the same!

#talking daydreams #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #gn reader #sibling reader #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #platonic yandere #neglected reader

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ada7201 · 4 months

Note

Ok first time requesting for a bl x reader but anyways, can we get some crushing hcs for kaisher (him having a crush on reader) and any other character you'd like

Btw you know what kind of person Michael reminds me of when having a crush? He is the kind of person that doesn't know how to get his crushes attention so he resorts to annoying them and teasing the hell out of them just so their attention will be on HIM!

Anyways adore your writing! Have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate!

thank you! this idea is so cute, i love kaiser and i completely agree with you. he is totally that type of person!

the blue lock boys crushing on you (´ε｀ )

Kaiser, Reo, Bachira, Rin x reader < hcs >

please don’t to request any ideas you have, everyone ♡

Michael Kaiser

i feel like at first he’d think he hates you, but then overtime he realises, no, he doesn’t hate you - he hates the fact he loves you.

learnt to not hate that though, and embraced his emotions! (in his own way…)

HE DEFINITELY DOES THE HAND COMPARISON

instead of trying to win you over with happy smiles and kind gestures, he chose the other option

to annoy you.

i’ve got a list of things he does to be irritating (it’s his way of flirting)

when you’re walking through a doorway, he pushes your back a little

if you have long or medium length hair, he pulls on it (a bit gently) but can also work if you have shorter hair!

steps on the back of your shoes

if he ever catches you sleeping, he either licks your ear, blows on it or whispers something into your ear

pinches the nape of your neck

if you’re wearing a hair tie on your wrist, he pulls on it so it snaps back onto your skin (ouch!)

he also shows off a LOT

as much as we wants to annoy you, there are rare moments where he’s serious about his feelings

“what do you mean, you’re going on a date?” Kaiser asks, almost offended at your statement. he was sat down comfortably on the couch in your apartment, arms draped over the back. his head was turned to you, a frown on his lips as his eyebrows furrowed.

“i’m going out to a restaurant with someone.” you say simply, fixing your hair as you looked in the mirror. “a date, Michael. i’m sure you know what that is.”

“of course i know what a date is. what i’m saying is, why?” he asks, standing up from the couch and turning his body towards you.

“because he asked me out, and he’s cute.” you respond with a scoff, eyeing him.

“cuter than me?” Kaiser asks, folding his arms and tapping his foot against the floor of your living room.

your eyes widened as you turned to him. “what?” you ask, breathily.

“i said, is he cuter than me?” Kaiser repeats himself, eyebrows slanting angrily as his frown deepened.

“i mean, i guess so—“

“don’t finish that!” Kaiser would squeal, before rushing over to you with a pout on his lips.

was very offended that you thought the other man was cuter.

he literally begged you not to go

he ended up confessing afterwards and yay!! you guys got together!

Reo Mikage

acts of service!

i honestly think his crush would start off small, then got bigger and bigger the more time he spent with you!

he definitely became your “secret admirer” because he finds it cute to watch your reactions

he also likes listening to you try and figure out who it was

he’s the type of guy to slip a love letter into your bag, oh, i wonder who gave you that!

he’s a real gentleman!

opens the door for you, ties your shoe laces, ties your hair up if you need it

things like that, you know?

if he ever hears you talking about wanting something, it’s already wrapped up and sent to your doorstep!

playfully flirts either me, if you get what i mean

he’s a bit like kaiser, but a bit more silly

like he taps your shoulder then looks away

he’s definitely one of those “flirty” friends

like Kaiser, he does the hand side comparison thing!

i think that Nagi was the one to actually reveal that Reo like you

and it was a complete accident too!

you and Nagi were both sat down on Reo’s couch, tapping away at your phones as you played whatever game Nagi chose.

“y/n, you’re such a hassle. why are so good at this game?” Nagi would mumble, eyebrows furrowing curiously as he tapped a little harder on the screen. “honestly, i don’t even get why Reo likes you.” he pouted.

“what—?” your eyes widen as you quickly snapped your head in Nagi’s direction. “Reo what?”

“he likes you.” Nagi says, before pausing. “oh, just forget i said that.” he adds, before going back to playing the game on his phone.

“he likes me?!” you ask, hands reaching out to hold onto Nagi’s shoulders and shake him.

“you lost the game, by the way.” Nagi would state, ignoring your question.

he had promised not to tell you that, oops.

“who likes you?” Reo would call out from the doorway, a smirk on his face.

Nagi looked over to you, sending a slight glare as if to say “don’t you dare tell him”

“does someone like my y/n?” Reo chuckled, walking over to the couch where you and Nagi sat before draping his arms over the two of you.

your cheeks got warmer as you felt his touch. did he really like you back?

Reo was very upset to hear that Nagi outed him

until you said you like him back!

Bachira Meguru

he talks to you a little more than he would to anyone else, so let’s hope you’re a good listener!

asks you to go places with him all the time

in his head, it’s a date

very touchy with you, unless you’re not comfortable with it

what i mean by touchy, is like hugs, holding your arm, an arm around your shoulder, and other things

gives you flowers that he picks up from the grass

he also gives you little things that he finds

like buttons, rocks, pencils and things like that

he says he likes you a lot of times, but it always sounds like a joke so you never really take it seriously

so when he was serious with you, and said that he actually does like you, it was pretty surprising!

“y/n.” he says, face morphing into a serious expression. it was honestly a little scary - seeing Bachira without a smile on his face.

“uh - yeah?” you ask, heartbeat quickening slightly.

“i like you.” he announces, straightening his posture sad his eyes bore into yours.

“i - I know.” you respond, a bit nervously as you watched him lean a little closer to you.

“and how do you feel about me?” he inquires, unable to hide the smile that’s creeping onto his face. “do you like me back, y/n?”

he watched you nod, and that’s all he needed as confirmation to giggle and pull you in for a hug.

he wouldn’t let go of you after that!

he then showed you all the “love letters” if you can even call them that… he wrote for you

Itoshi Rin

a bit clingy with you

like, he constantly feels the need to stand and sit close to you

i feel like he’d also send you some little gifts anonymously, but for a different reason than Reo

he’s a secret admirer because he’s a bit too nervous to give it to you in person

he’s way more patient with you than he is with others

he also talks to you more than others!

always asks you to watch him play soccer and “rate” his skills or whatever (he wants to show off)

he secretly takes photos of you and looks at them in his free time, because you’re just so cute!

gets a little (a lot) jealous

then he’s a bit sulky for a bit

he almost confessed his feelings to you sooo many times then realised what he was gonna do.

when he finally did confess, i feel like it was when

the two of you were both sat down on a park bench, soaking in the silence as the moon shone above both of you.

you were busy looking out at the park, admiring the scenery and smiling at the little kids who were begging their parents to let them stay at the playground or a JIST a little bit longer!

but Rin was looking straight at your face. he couldn’t help it, the moonlight just framed your face perfectly; and your smile was the most precious thing he had ever seen in his life. he made a silent promise to himself to always protect it.

it was only when you turned to face him that he realised he had been staring at you for a full 10 minutes.

“Rin?” you ask, chuckling lightly at his startled expression. his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were a bit wide, innocent, almost.

“i-“ he stuttered a bit, bashing his head mentally afterwards. “i like you.” he said.

his eyes widened further, along with yours at the statement.

“what?” you manage to squeak out.

it was too late to go back now, Rin thinks to himself.

“i like you.” he confesses, before looking down shamefully. “sorry.”

“why are you sorry?” you smile. “that’s a good thing! i like you too, Rinnie.”

“you—?” he was shocked. “you like me back?”

“yep!”

he was extremely flustered afterwards, cute! >_<

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anto-pops · 1 year

Text

To the Victor Go the Spoils - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Since Sebastian can't hold himself accountable and show up to Quidditch practice, Imelda takes matters into her own hands and bans him from being around you until the upcoming game is finished. It's something easier said than done.

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian having a terrible time in lieu of Imelda's no-sex-ban, but good things always come to those who wait.

Based on a request I received! Hope you like it anon :)

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit content

Full fic can be found here on Ao3!

It’s not like you couldn’t tell Sebastian was overwhelmed. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, despite his efforts to always hide them. A boggart could mirror him in a flash and betray his fears and his thoughts, but even then you would know what to expect beforehand, because you knew him better than anyone.

Between classes, the new Quidditch season, and his new goal of becoming an Auror, Sebastian felt like he was being pulled in a thousand different directions all at once. Realistically, it shouldn’t be so difficult for him to prioritize one task at a time. That’s how easy it would be to solve his problems; he only needed to slow down and take a breath before diving back into the bottomless workload. But it didn’t matter what he told himself or how he rationalized everything– he was still stressed and on the verge of tearing his hair out.

You watched as Sebastian pushed around a sausage on his plate, his breakfast mostly untouched while he warred with the thoughts in his head.

“You should eat,” chimed Ominis from across the table, tired of listening to the scrape of Sebastian’s fork on the platter. “Don’t you have Quidditch practice in an hour? You’ll need the energy.”

“Not really hungry,” Sebastian replied monotonously, and you frowned.

Popping your last piece of sliced fruit in your mouth, you jabbed at Sebastian’s sausage with your fork and held it up to his lips imploringly. “Eat. He’s right, you’ll be useless out there if you’re running on fumes.”

Pressing the greasy meat to Sebastian’s freckled lips garnered a small smile from him, but that was it. He gingerly pushed your hand away and shook his head, letting his chin fall against his palm with a sigh. “Sorry darling, really though. I think I’ll throw up if I try at this point.”

Grumbling something about ‘taking better care of himself’, your trio’s attention was then grabbed by the sound of the Great Hall doors being thrown open. The fact that Imelda had the strength to actually make the monstrous slabs of wood ricochet off the wall was terrifying, but the feeling paled in comparison to the fear you felt when your eyes landed on her furious expression.

“Sallow!” she bellowed over the chatter in the dining room, and a hush seemed to fall over the crowd. “Where the hell have you been?”

Sebastian’s back was to the doorway, but you watched as his eyes pinched shut at the sound of the Quidditch captain’s voice. Merlin’s beard– this was just what he didn’t need. Ominis fought a smile at the sound of Imelda stomping over to where you were seated, and when she came to stop behind you, you cast a pleading look over your shoulder at her.

“Imelda, he’s not feeling great today–”

“Bullshit,” she cut you off, and your mouth snapped shut with an audible crack. “He’s not feeling great but he still has time to run around school instead of coming to practice? I think not. Get your ass up, Sebastian, I’m not letting you miss a third day.”

His dark eyes made a full circle in his skull, but he sighed, already resigned to his fate. There was no arguing with Imelda when she was in one of her moods, and he knew he’d already done enough to piss her off by blowing off Quidditch practice two days in a row. He wouldn’t put it past her to kick him off the team entirely if he started to grouse.

Sebastian shot you a smile as he stood from his seat, although it kind of looked more like a grimace. Before he could move to head for the doors, he watched as Imelda snatched the fork you’d skewered his sausage with. She spun towards him, her free hand flying to his face in a split second, and when her fingers pinched his nose and jerked his head up, Sebastian’s mouth was left open long enough for his Captain to shove the food between his lips.

“Mmph–” the sausage hung limp in Sebastian’s slack mouth, his eyes widening at the brazen action, but Imelda only nodded once, pleased with her handy work.

“There. Eat that on the way. And you,” she pointed a crooked finger at you, making you pause. “Unless you’re going to drag Sallow’s lazy ass to the field every day this week, stay away from him. He’s useless to me if he can’t play right and something tells me you’re a bigger distraction than you are a help.”

An indignant sound resonated from your throat, but before you could formulate a retort, Imelda had spun on her heel and was dragging Sebastian out of the Great Hall by the fabric of his cloak. He cast one last irritated glance at you over his shoulder, sausage link perched between his lips, before he disappeared completely from sight, and you scoffed.

“Unbelievable. Who the hell does she think she is?”

It was a mostly rhetorical question, but Ominis chuckled across from you and scraped his remaining breakfast into a pile before answering. “She is the Captain of the team. Honestly I’m surprised it took her this long to drag Sebastian back to the field. He has been rather… preoccupied, recently.”

Exasperated, you exclaimed, “Yeah, with school! She can’t seriously think I’m to blame for him blowing off practice. Sebastian is going to do what he wants to do, we both know that.”

Ominis shrugged before spooning his last bite into his mouth, choosing his words carefully as he chewed and swallowed. “True. However, you have to admit he has spent every waking minute of his free time this week with you. It’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong, but we also know Sebastian will always prioritize what he likes to do over what he should do.”

It frustrated you to admit it, but Ominis had a point. Whatever, if Imelda wanted Sebastian to herself to focus on Quidditch, then so be it. The big game against Gryffindor was in three days. You could keep your distance from Sebastian for that long, for his sake and maybe for yours as well. It pained you to admit it, but you had been putting off studying for your exams, preferring to get tangled in the sheets with Sebastian late at night and canoodle like teenagers.

Convinced the rest of the day would be boring and slow moving, you sighed and rose from your seat. “Come on, let’s head to the library. Might as well spend the next three days catching up on some reading.”

Ominis neatly organized his cutlery on his plate before plucking his wand from the table and standing. “That’s the spirit. I wouldn’t worry too much, three days is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

For some reason, you didn’t believe him.

—

Imelda made good on her word to keep Sebastian away from you in his free time. Every time you saw him around school he was wearing his Quidditch uniform, grass and dirt stains accumulating on his knees and elbows with each passing hour. He looked beyond haggard, but he seemed to be in good enough spirits when you finally sat beside him in charms class a day later. It was the first chance you’d been given to talk with him since the other morning, and Sebastian seemed as eager to be around you as you were to be beside him.

“Hey stranger,” he whispered with a smile as Professor Ronan started on a tangent about responsible wand usage.

Your grin was ear splitting, “Hey yourself. How has practice been going?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, flipping through his textbook to give the appearance of following along in the lesson. “As good as it can be, I guess. Imelda’s new trials are brutal but effective. I like to think we’ll crush Gryffindor to dust come this weekend.”

“That’s good. Is she still keeping you on a short leash?”

At that, Sebastian’s face fell, his brows slamming down in disbelief. “You have no idea. Do you know what she told me after assaulting me with that sausage the other day? She said ‘no hanky-panky until we win the game’. Apparently my having sex is a distraction and she won’t have any of it.”

Sebastian groaned under his breath when you lifted your hand to muffle your laughter. “Wow, she isn’t messing around this time. Did she put you in a chastity belt or something?”

“Thank fucking Merlin she hasn’t, but I wouldn’t put it past her. It’s the most counter productive thing I’ve ever heard in my life. How is not having sex going to win us the game? If anything it’s detrimental to my performance– I’m all strung out and whiny.”

“Honestly, I think it’s just her own unique form of punishment for skipping practice,” you murmured. “Better sort out your time management skills fast, who knows what she’ll do in the future if you start slacking off again.”

Before he could reply, Professor Ronan was instructing the class to pair up and practice a new spell. Free from Imelda’s piercing gaze for one blessed hour, Sebastian didn’t hesitate to place his hand on your shoulder, silently claiming you as his partner.

The rest of class breezed by fairly quickly, and afterwards when everyone had been dismissed to head out to lunch, you found yourself being led down a corridor into a dark, dusty broom closet by Sebastian. You felt your boyfriend’s hands on your waist as he guided you backwards against the wall, and then his lips were on yours, chasing away the hollow feeling that had existed in your chest since he’d been kidnapped from the Great Hall the day prior.

It was frantic and desperate, both of you trying in vain to taste as much of the other as possible. Your hands were everywhere; in his hair, scratching down his chest, then underneath the pressed fabric of his dress shirt as your fingers danced across his burning skin. Sebastian’s tongue delved deep in your mouth, swallowing the tiny mewls his kisses pulled from you with deep rooted pride. When his knee nestled itself in between your spread legs and pressed against your core, you couldn’t help but moan loudly at the sensation, wanting instantly to feel more of him after one mere day of trying not to be a distraction.

As Sebastian’s hand came up to undo the top button of your blouse, light suddenly flooded the dirty closet, sending the two of you scurrying apart flushed and panting.

“Well well, my little bird was right. You were being naughty. Tsk tsk, Sallow.” Imelda had her hands firmly planted on her hips, an utterly devilish smile playing on her lips. “Out you go, dear. Sebastian needs to eat lunch and then it’s straight to the Quidditch pitch for practice.”

“For fuck’s sake, Reyes. Is nothing sacred anymore?” Sebastian’s hands raked through his disheveled hair, looking like the textbook definition of ‘frazzled’ and ‘horny’.

“My rules are sacred, and you damn near broke the most important one. You seriously can’t keep it in your pants for two more days? It’s not like I’m asking you to cut off your manhood and leave it with her. It’s just pathetic at this point.”

An elaborate string of profanities fell from Sebastian’s lips as he strode out of the closet past Imelda, his hands curled into fists at his side. He said nothing to you on his way out, but you already knew he was in for it now. His erection had been painfully obvious pressed against your thigh through his trousers.

Imelda was still standing in the doorway, taking in your own unkempt appearance with a coy smirk. “You can have him back after the game, I promise. In the meantime, I would go clean up if I were you. You look like you’re in heat.”

She turned to leave then, the closet door drifting shut in your face as you gaped at the empty space where she had disappeared from.

That woman was unbelievable. You silently wished Sebastian luck with the brutal case of blue balls you knew he would be sporting for the rest of the day.

—

The game was unbelievably intense.

Imelda had definitely put her team through the ringer in the days leading up to Saturday, but the same could be said for Gryffindor’s players. Every time Slytherin scored, Gryffindor seemed to bounce back almost instantaneously with a point of their own. Your eyes had been glued to Sebastian the entire time, watching in awe as he zipped around the field and evaded bludgers with a finesse you couldn’t help but cheer for.

He scored the next point, psyching out Gryffindor’s keeper with a fake throw towards the left hoop before angling his arm at the right one. The quaffle soared through the ring, and the crowd around you roared in support.

“Sebastian scored!” you exclaimed and grabbed Ominis by his forearm, shaking him wildly with enthusiasm. “It’s fifty to forty now– we might actually win this!”

“Where is Slytherin’s seeker?” he asked, your excitement palpable enough to get his heart racing.

You searched the field for the woman in question. Clarisse Brown was scanning the pitch below her from high above, her eyes narrowed in concentration. All the noise from the stands did little to deter her focus, and you watched with rapt interest as her gaze zero’d in on the Gryffindor seeker across the way.

“She’s close to the goal post on her side– no hang on, she’s diving! She’s following Gryffindor’s seeker, I think they’ve spotted the snitch.”

Everything else happened so quickly, you barely had time to commentate any of it to Ominis before you were watching the two seekers tumble against the grass after the tiny, golden ball. A hush fell over the crowd as the players untangled their limbs from the ground, but then it was Clarisse shooting upright, the snitch clasped victoriously in her hand.

“She caught it– Slytherin got the snitch! They won!”

The celebration started almost instantly. Throes of screaming students funneled down onto the field to hoist Clarisse high above their heads, whooping and cheering and chanting songs to praise the hard earned triumph.

You and Ominis stayed in the safety of the emptying stands, but even from far away, you saw Sebastian’s head turn towards you. His gaze was one of thrilled success, and when he took in the sight of you beaming at him, a different sort of look passed over his features.

One that you were eager to see up close.

—

The Slytherin team certainly knew how to throw an after party. The common room was in a celebratory uproar, goblets of spiked pumpkin juice being passed around as chatter filled every nook and cranny of the otherwise dim, quiet room. Truly, you’d never seen it so packed.

Sebastian didn’t give a shit though. He didn’t care about toasting to his team’s victory, nor did he care to even congratulate Clarisse on catching the snitch in the first place.

No, all he cared about was getting you upstairs on his bed.

You had no choice but to practically skip to keep up with Sebastian’s long-legged stride as he led you to his dorm. His grip on your wrist was like a vice, unrelenting as he weaved through the scattered groups of people you encountered on the way. A few of them looked as though they wanted to congratulate him– maybe even strike up an actual conversation– but the look on his face must have been downright primal, because everyone of them backed up with wide eyes and hushed whispers.

You flushed under their knowing stares. Merlin.

When Sebastian tugged you through the threshold of the dorm, his lips were on yours in a heartbeat. He pressed you against the still closing door, and as it latched shut, you were jolted by the weight of Sebastian leaning against you. His hands were winding in your hair, tugging you against his mouth urgently in some desperate attempt to taste you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kicking your legs up to hook around his waist as you shamelessly rolled your hips against his, and the throaty growl he let loose had heat pooling in your gut instantly.

“Worst fucking week of my life,” he groaned the statement against your lips, and you couldn’t help but snicker. “I’m serious, I’m gonna kick Imelda’s ass if she ever tries to impose her rules on me again.”

That wasn’t going to cut it. You hadn’t spent the last three days waiting to get your boyfriend back from Imelda for him to start talking about her with his cock rutting against you. “Can you not bring up Imelda and just fuck me already?”

An animalistic sound came from Sebastian then, and he pulled away from your lips long enough to stare at you in a way that had you dizzy with arousal. “With pleasure, darling.”

He was quick to throw you down on his bed, hastily muttering a locking charm on the door before he tossed his wand on the dresser and ripped his jersey over his shoulders. The dried sweat on his skin glimmered against the glow from the hearth in the center of the room, leaving your mouth watering, and you rushed to kick off your boots to speed things along.

Sebastian was on you in an instant, kissing you senseless as one deft hand slid under your waistband and flicked the button open. He trailed his soft lips down the curve of your jaw, then lower along your neck, and he paused to suck at the skin there as he tugged your trousers down from your hips. You lifted your ass to assist, and once the restrictive material was gone, Sebastian straddled your waist so he could press his clothed member against the thin cotton of your undergarments firmly.

You moaned at the contact, tilting your head back to grant him easier access to your fluttering pulse. He licked a broad stripe down the sensitive skin of your throat while his hands began undoing the clasps of your shirt.

Sebastian’s gravelly voice vibrated against the wet skin of your neck, snapping you out of your pleasure induced daze. “Do you want me to bend you over or do you want to look at me while I fuck you?”

Damn. “I-I want to see you. Feel like I haven’t had the chance to all week.” Your hands punctuated the statement by trailing up the delicious curve of his spine, drawing a shiver from him. “Is that okay? What do you want?”

When he pulled away from your flushed neck, his eyes darkened immeasurably further, and the longer strands of his hair falling into his face gave him the appearance of some impassioned, sex-driven lunatic– but you weren’t about to start complaining. Not when he scooched down your prone form to start unbuttoning your shirt, and certainly not when he poked his tongue through his lips in thoughtful concentration.

“I just want you, I don’t care about anything else. Fuck– not even jerking off helped– it’s like there was a mental block I couldn’t get past.” The last button fell open, and Sebastian slid the material off of your shoulders, his eyes hungrily roving over your naked body. His fingers trailed up your smooth stomach before kneading your breasts in his heated palms, drawing a strangled gasp from your throat. “Did you touch yourself at all this week or were you waiting for me?”

You were embarrassed to admit that you had tried, but before you could tell him as much, Sebastian was pinching your nipples slightly and twisting, causing you to arch into his touch as a high-pitched moan sounded from your kiss swollen lips. “Mm, Sebastian–”

The sound of your voice threatened to send him over the edge right then and there. “There is no wrong answer, I’m only curious…”

He trailed off, lessening his ministrations against your breasts so you could reply. “Y-Yes. I tried, but it wasn’t the same. It never is.”

That cocky smirk was taking up his entire face, and you knew then you should have just lied, because now his ego was bound to grow out of control.

“It never is, hm? Then what do you want– what do you need to get off? Say the words, darling, and it’s yours.”

Despite the delectable feeling of his hands working you into a frenzy, you wanted to smother him for taking so long. Was three days worth of stolen glances and a crippling case of blue balls not enough to push him into action? Of course not. Typical of him to still find a way to make you beg for what you knew he wanted more than anything.

Your hands flew up to grip the belt loops on his painfully tight trousers, tugging his hips down so they were flush with the slick cloth separating your heat from him. “I need you– I need your cock inside of me, please Sebastian. My fingers just aren’t the same–”

He silenced you with a particularly aggressive kiss, breathing heavily against your cheek as his teeth came to nibble at your bottom lip before he pulled away entirely to unfasten his belt. You’d never seen him move so quickly, his quidditch trousers coming to pool in a wrinkled heap against the stone floor, and then it was just his briefs in the way. They disappeared just as fast, his cock springing free and arching proud against the hair below his navel, and then Sebastian was scaling up the bed like a predator.

When he kissed you again, he started to slide your soaked panties away, letting you kick them off when they got too low for him to follow. He placed his fingers against your overwhelmingly slick entrance, relishing in the needy gasp his featherlight touch pulled from you.

You caved completely to Sebastian as he pushed a slender digit inside, working you open slowly as your spine curved off the mattress and you whined loud. Sebastian let himself bask in the sight of you for a moment despite his baser urges; you looked great spread for him like this, rocking down onto his finger as your hands fisted in the sheets beneath you, and when you cracked open your half-hooded eyes to gaze up at him, the tenderness in your expression tugged at something in his chest.

Tentatively, Sebastian added a second finger, slowly pushing inside you and pausing briefly to give you a chance to adjust to the intrusion, but you were already writhing under him, feebly searching for something more.

“Something the matter?” he purred the question, feeling rather smug when you narrowed your eyes at him.

“N-Not to be ungrateful, but your fingers aren’t cutting it– ah!”

Sebastian had pulled his hand back and plunged his digits back in, crooking the tips of his fingers up in search of that magical spot that always reduced you to a moaning mess, and it didn’t take him long to find it. He knew your body better than you did. “Not cutting it, huh?”

You shivered as he proceeded to rub the long appendages along your pulsing walls, seemingly focused on hitting your sweet spot every time, and Merlin, was he succeeding. The pleasure was undeniable, your stomach tensing and twitching as warmth rapidly pooled in your gut, and when the pad of Sebastian’s thumb came to roughly press against your clit, there was no stopping the keening sob that ripped from your mouth. It was glorious– absolutely everything you had been dreaming about all week– and you frantically clawed at the tops of Sebastian’s rounded shoulders in a silent plea.

“Fuck, please Sebastian– I want you– I wanna come on your cock, I’m not gonna last long, please–”

He was pulling his fingers out of you in a flash, those strong hands coming to grab at your hips and haul you down the bed so you were flush with his leaking member. The feeling of your slick rubbing against his shaft had him seeing stars, and when he aligned himself and finally pressed into your welcoming heat, his head tipped back as a groan slipped through his clenched teeth.

“Merlin, you’re so fucking perfect– fuck–”

It wasn’t a slow descent by any means, but it wasn’t fast either, and you were grateful seeing as it gave you the chance to really feel Sebastian’s cock fill you up. The blunt head reached so deep, way deeper than his fingers or your own, and your nerves lit on fire when he pulled back and rammed into you, his skin slapping against the shapely curve of your ass. Every sensation amplified the fire that had nearly crashed through you minutes earlier, and once he set a steady rhythm, you were writhing in earnest underneath him.

“Shit,” you gasped after one especially rough thrust. “Fuck, fuck, Sebastian–”

“F-Feel good, darling?” Sebastian whispered, adjusting his grip on you so he could lean closer, and the new angle allowed him to shamelessly rut against you after each plunge of his cock, his own orgasm building quickly after three days of torturing himself without you.

“Yes, fuck yes, s-so good– right there–”

The sight of you moving harder against him, panting and keening and trembling, pulled filthy praises and moans alike from Sebastian’s lips. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted to cum so bad in his life– his pace had a mind of its own as he brainlessly thrusted into you, relishing in the feeling of you shaking and tightening around him before your nails were scraping deliciously down his back, and the sting had his cock twitching in a telling manner inside of you.

“I’m gonna come darling, I’m– fuck–”

You beat him to it, his aggressive tempo sending you falling over the edge with a loud, drawn out cry of his name. Sebastian fucked you hard and fast through it, taking advantage of your pulsing heat to chase his own orgasm as he wound his fingers through your unruly hair and tugged hard enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

That did it.

Sebastian buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth biting at your collarbone as he whimpered your name over and over before his hips faltered and he was coming deep, and the sound of his moans coupled with the feeling of him filling you to the brim only served to push you higher.

Completely spent, Sebastian let most of his weight fall on top of you as the ebbing waves of his orgasm coursed through him.

“Holy fuck,” he heard you mutter from beneath him, and he cracked open a bleary eye to see you gazing contentedly at the ceiling. Removing his fingers from your hair to trail lightly over your cheek, you let him drag your face into a lazy, satisfied kiss, the lush scent of him filling your brain with mind numbing bliss. “Mm, missed you.”

Sebastian’s voice was muffled against your lips when he spoke, “Never agreeing to something like that again. Quidditch can fuck right off– I don’t care.”

Snickering quietly, you wrapped your arms around his sweaty back and tugged him sideways firmly so you could lay on top of him, careful of where the two of you were still connected. “And here I was going to say this was almost worth the wait.”

“Then you, my dear, are a sick and twisted masochist.”

That got a real laugh out of you. “Hardly. When I think about it, it was nice seeing you in your uniform all sweaty for three days. Lots of dirty thoughts to fill in the gaps.”

The awareness in his eyes came flooding back as he stared up at you wide-eyed, and you made a point to commit his gaping expression to memory. “You… wait, what?”

You fought a smile as you shrugged nonchalantly, “You look good in a uniform. What else is there to say?”

Following the bob of his throat as he swallowed, Sebastian’s voice sounded tight when he asked, “Do you want me to put it back on?”

“Not now,” your fingers traced the sharp outline of his collarbones, gliding lower until they came to splay in the sparse collection of hair at the center of his hips. “I can think of a few other things I’d like to watch you do instead of strip all over again.”

“Only a few?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur, with everyone celebrating Slytherin’s victory in the common room by drinking and dancing. All the while, you and Sebastian stayed sequestered in his dorm, intending on taking full advantage of the locked door before his roommates inevitably returned to soil the fun. You two would never need to know that Imelda stood guard at the bottom of the stairs, shooing away any meandering students to different wings of the foyer. It would be her own secret to keep.

After all, she figured she kind of owed it to you for being such a good sport about the whole thing.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow oneshot #ominis gaunt #imelda reyes #my writing #this was such a fun request I LOVED writing Imelda

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topazy · 2 months

Text

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood

Chapter: 3.06

Merle was trying to intimidate you by dragging his blade across the metallic table in front of you. The screeching noise caused you to flinch. You had spent the last couple of hours listening to Merle interrogate Glenn, beating him senseless for information, but not once did Glenn break. His actions solidified your reasoning for refusing to tell him anything; you’d rather be tortured than tell him anything.

You were being kept in a bricked-up building; the white paint on the walls has begun to peel off with dampness, and aside from the one door leading in, there was no other exit for you to escape out of.

Standing in front of you, Merle cocks his head to the side and says, “That shirt you’re wearing belongs to my brother.”

“How observant.”

“He gave it to you?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Yes.”

“He ain’t usually one for sharing.”

You say nothing back. Your people would have figured out something was wrong by now, and your brother would have come up with some plan to find you and Glenn. Even if Rick has started to lose his mind, this would force him back into reality.

“Listen, sugar tits. I don’t want to hit a girl, but I will if I need to.”

It’s difficult for you to comprehend that Daryl and Merle are brothers because the older Dixon was so vile in comparison to his younger brother. Merle begins to rant about Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog leaving him on the roof in Atlanta to die. While Merle shares his version of events in which he’s the victim, you manage to loosen the tape bounding your wrists behind your back.

You don’t let anything Merle says rile you up, until he mentions Rick one too many times, and it causes a wave of anger to wash over you.

“All I want to know is where my baby brother is and where that goddamn sheriff is so I can make the son of a bitch pay!”

Using your free hand, you punch Merle in the face; the unexpected blow causes him to stagger back. When he’s stable, he pulls his gun out and hits you in the face, causing blood to pool from your mouth. It takes you a few seconds to register that blood is not just coming from your lower lip; you bring your hand to your mouth and feel that a bottom tooth is missing.

Merle jolts forward and clenches your cheeks with his hand. “Do you have any idea who you’re fucking messing with, girl?”

You smack his hand away. Glaring at him, you say, “I’m Lily Grimes, and when my brother comes for us, I’ll make sure he takes more than your fucking hand this time!”

Merle tenses them out of the room.

—

Your tongue becomes numb when you bite it so hard in an attempt to hold back tears. Since you told Merle nothing, the governor has tried to pry information out of you with various threats. When that didn’t work, he forced you to strip off all the top half of your clothing. When you crossed your arms over your chest to try and cover yourself, he just laughed at you.

The governor was now dragging you roughly by the arm to another part of the building, with Merle and another man leading the way, each of them holding guns in their hands.

You gasped in shock at the sight of Glenn's severe beating upon entering the next room. Blood streamed from his ears, nose, and mouth, while bruises marred his face. His left eye was so swollen that he could hardly open it.

“We’re through with games,” the governor says, pulling out his gun and pointing it at your head. “Now, one of you is going to give up your camp.” When you don’t answer, he lets out a dark chuckle. “No? Let’s see if this gets you talking.”

Feeling a sudden, sharp pain in your lower leg, you stumble forward. One of the men had sliced your calf with a knife. You spit blood from your mouth out onto the ground. “I’m not going to tell you sadistic fucks anything!”

When the governor raises her hand to strike you, Glenn blurts out, “The prison.”

The governor lowers his hand, and Merle asks, “The one near Nunez? The place is overrun.”

“How many?”

When you don’t answer again, the governor points his gun at Glenn. “You have until I count to three, Miss Grimes. One…two…”

“Eleven,” you sob.

“Eleven people cleared that whole prison of walkers?”

You nod.

Enraged, the governor places his hand on your back and pushes you to the ground on his way out. As you weep, Merle and the other man step over your body and out of the room.

Glenn rushes to your side; he tries to help you up, but you refuse since you’d be showing him your bare chest. He takes his top off, hands it to you, then turns around for you to put it on. Once it’s on, you sit upright, and you bend your leg to inspect the bleeding wound. The cut wasn’t big but looked deep.

“Fuck, that looks bad, Lily.” He moves closer to inspect your face. “The governor took your tooth?”

“Merle hit me with his gun.”

Glenn starts to look around for something to help stop the bleeding. The room you were locked in reminds you of the wooden shed in your garden that Shane used to leave his unwanted junk in.

The disgusting treatment you and Glenn received pulls at a memory—something you’d tried so hard to keep locked away inside the back of your mind. In between sobs, you say, “Rick will find us; I’m not sure how, but he will.”

—

When more of the governor's men, led by Merle, came back to torture you for more information, you and Glenn attacked them with makeshift weapons. One of the men tried to force you to stand; you stabbed him in the throat with the sharp edge of a broken pipe, while Glenn tried to tackle Merle, but you were outnumbered.

Forced onto your knees, a sob slips from your lips. The men were reloading their guns behind you, getting ready to kill you with their execution style. Glenn, who looks terrified beside you, holds your hand. “We’re going to be okay; just look at me.”

“I’m never going to see Jace again.”

“Maggie will keep him safe.”

His grip on your hand tightens as the men approach to put sacks over your head.

“It’s been fun catching up,” Merle taunts.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud bang followed by smoke, which makes it hard to breathe with your head covered. Perhaps this was their cruel way of killing you—gassing you to death.

The sack is ripped off your head, and you’re met with a familiar face.

“Rick…”

Everything is chaotic as gunfire lights up the room, but with the smoke, it was hard to see who was shooting. Rick hooks his arm around you and helps you stay upright as you run from the room.

—

As soon as Rick lets go of you to barricade the door, you stumble to the ground. He tries to catch you, but he’s not fast enough. Rick had practically carried you across the street and into a small diner, which luckily had no windows, so hopefully it would give you cover for a little while.

Maggie kneels down and tends to Glenn, who’s leaning back against the counter, while Daryl and Oscar clear the back rooms.

Rick disappears and reappears within seconds, coming out of the kitchen with a tea towel in his hand. Frantically, he ties the fabric around your lower leg, and when you yell in pain, he apologizes, “Sorry, sorry. We gotta get you two out of here.”

“How’s Jace?”

Daryl answers before your brother can. “Aside from missing his mom, the little guy is fine.”

“Carl?”

Rick's eyes soften. “Don’t worry about them right now; they are safe. Everybody in the prison is fine. Lily, Carol is alive.”

Finally, some good news.

Maggie looks over at your brother and says, “Help me get him up.”

Glenn was starting to look a lot worse, with his face becoming more swollen with each passing moment. You’re unaware of Daryl moving behind you until he hooks his arm around your waist and helps you to your feet.

Daryl presses a kiss into your hair and says, “Shit, what happened to your face?”

“I had the pleasure of meeting your brother.”

He steps back slightly, maintaining his grip without letting go completely. “My brother is here.”

“Daryl, this was Merle,” Glenn slurs as blood mixed with saliva dribbles from his mouth.

“It was him; he did this.”

“You saw him?” Rick asks in disbelief.

Glenn nods, “Face-to-face. He threw a walker at me. He was going to execute us.”

Daryl’s loose grip on you suddenly tightens again. “So, my brothers, is this governor?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “He’s somebody else. Merle’s his lieutenant or something.”

“Does he know I’m with you?” Although it was a simple question, the way Daryl was looking at you made you feel it was much deeper.

“He does now,” Glenn says. “Rick I’m sorry, but we told him where the prison was. We couldn’t hold out.”

“Don’t; there is no need to apologize.” Rick says, “We have a car half a mile down the road, and we need to go now before they find us.”

—

The fight to get out of Woodbury, the hellhole of a town the governor runs, was brutal. Someone shot and killed Oscar, and Daryl went missing.

A woman named Michonne waited on the side of the road with you and Glenn. Neither of you were able to walk far, so you stayed while Rick and Maggie had gone back to search for Daryl.

“Lily! Glenn!”

Hearing your brother's voice, you get to your feet and limp over to the tree line. “Rick, did you find him?”

Your brother nods, panting, and he raises his hand. “Now we have a problem here; I need you to back up.”

You see Daryl and smile, realizing that he's alive, but the spark of happiness you feel quickly falters when you see Merle behind him.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Glenn yells, pointing his gun at Merle.

Michonne points her sword at him and says, “He tried to kill me!”

While the rest of the group argues, Merle leans back against a tree, smirking. He was enjoying the chaos his presence caused. You make your way over to him slowly, which amuses him. “Now, sweetheart—”

You cut him off by head-butting him. “That’s for my missing tooth, you asshole!”

“Hey, now, you hit me first,” he argues.

“After you beat the shit out of Glenn!” You go to take a step closer to him, but Daryl holds you back.

“You hurt her?” He barks.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Merle sneers at his brother before turning his attention back to you. “Listen, girly, we both got a few bunches in, but I had nothing to do with you being dragged around topless; bosom’s on show for all.”

Before Merle can say anything else, Rick is on top of him, punching him repeatedly. At first, nobody intervenes, but when the blows don’t stop, Daryl lets go of you and moves to pull him off. “Rick, that’s enough!”

“Rick! Stop!”

It takes Daryl, Michonne, and Maggie to finally pull your brother off of Merle. The look in Rick’s eyes was almost feral, like one you hadn’t seen in years.

—

You sit in the passenger seat of the car your brother would be driving back, watching as Maggie, Glenn, Rick, and Daryl have a heated conversation in the middle of the road. Leaning your head back, you squeeze your eyes shut. All you wanted was to get back to prison and hold Jace.

You needed to see Jace, Carl, and your niece for yourself to fully believe they were safe.

When the car door opens, you sigh. You already have a sick feeling about what is about to happen. Without opening your eyes, you say, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“They ain’t allowing Merle to come back to the prison.”

You open your eyes to look at Daryl, who’s crouched down to be eye level with you. He appears to be in a state of despair; it's the first time you’ve ever seen him look so defeated. “You surprised me after what he did to me and Glenn?”

“No.”

You rack your brain, trying to find any other solution that didn’t result in Daryl leaving, but there was none. “None of us want you to go.”

“I know,” he says, looking down at the ground. “Merle is coming in and out of consciousness; if I leave him on his own and a walker finds him... He’s my blood; I can’t do that.”

Your eyes cut across the road to Rick, who was patiently waiting. It stung knowing that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t leave your brother behind; “we’re your family as well.”

Daryl looks up at you again; this time his eyes are filled with unshed tears. “I just… I need you to know if Merle was able to protect himself. I’d be leaving here to go back to the prison.”

“What about when he’s better?”

“I’ll find my way back to you.”

#the walking dead #daryl dixon/you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #Daryl Dixon/reader #tomorrow’s promise #tomorrow’s promise 3.06 #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #rick grimes x sister reader

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seeingivy · 9 months

Text

historic wins

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: mentions of implied SA/uncomfortable agent, nothing else too serious. reader has anxiety before performing, eren being sick in love, baddie moment

an: when I tell you writing this chapter took ten years of my life, it really did. i literally had the worst day ever regardless BUT i regurgitated out and i can't tell if i hate it bc my mood is bad or bc its actually bad if its bad let all just collectively close our eyes please bc it ACTUALLY gave me a tension headache FDSFDSF

previous chapter

You knock on the door, the stress sitting on your shoulders, as you hear rustling behind the frame. When it swings open, you’re met with Marco and Reiner answering the doors, the two of them swiftly pulling you in and slamming the door shut behind you.

“Did anyone see you when you came in?” Reiner asks, his hand still pulling you up the stairs.

“No. Was-is there someone there or-”

“Paparazzi. They’ve been swarming since yesterday, we've barely been able to leave as it is.” Marco responds.

They drag you up the stairs and both push open the first white door open. You’re met with five pairs of eyes staring you down. Eren, Connie, Mikasa, Ymir, and Historia - who looks downright horrible.

You figured it was bad. You had seen the headlines on your way down - saying Historia was canceled, her trending on Twitter, her socials getting blocked. And you always thought that situations like this were sensationalized when you weren't famous, something horrible to go through. But it’s worse than you expected.

She looks sick.

Her complexion is pale green, her eyes rimmed red, and her hair is tangled into such a mess at the top of her head that it’s making your stomach turn.

The Historia you know - glimmering blue eyes, soft blow-dried hair - is no comparison to the downright ghost you’re looking at now. And the worst part of it all is her expression.

Broken. Defeated. Crushed.

You walk forward, opening your arms for her to sink into, and she immediately breaks out into sobs. She’s crying into your shoulder, her salty tears making a home against your skin and her cries so loud they're giving you goosebumps. You can see the rest of them behind you - Mikasa and Ymir sharing a knowing look - as Historia lets go and crawls back into the middle of her bed.

You take a seat next to Eren on the floor, the two of you crisscrossed against her pale pink walls. He links his hand with yours as you plop your head onto his shoulder.

“Is that everyone?”

“Yeah, Hisu. The rest of them couldn’t get off and Levi and Hange are on their way now.” Ymir responds, her hands making small circles into her back.

“Okay. I-I appreciate you coming, even when everyone hates me right now.”

“We could never hate you, Hisu. Ever.” Eren responds the tone definitive, angry, and firm. It only occurs to you now that you’ve never really seen Eren like this - his shoulders tensed up, the look in his eyes burning hot instead of softly warm.

“I know, I just-”

“No one could ever make us change our mind about you, Historia. The shit they’re saying doesn’t even sound like you. Why would you randomly fire your agent when you’ve literally loved him for years?” Reiner responds.

Historia’s face pales at the mention of her agent, the reaction catching all of you off guard. Eren pulls his arm around your shoulder as you both slump farther down the wall, the anticipation, the anxiety of what Historia’s about to say so palpable it makes your throat dry.

“I did fire my agent.” Historia chokes out.

You remember her agent well, from when you met him at the season two premiere. He was a tall guy, with chocolate brown hair and a fair amount of wrinkles. He couldn’t be much older than your own parents, but he was always the biggest supporter of Historia. The first person in line to brag about her, about how amazing her career has been, how many credits she has for how old she is.

“Why?” Connie asks.

Historia takes a deep breath, her head in her hands and her voice shaky as she starts explaining.

“I was set to act in Endless Love, that big movie being produced at the end of winter. I had gotten the lead role and I found out on my birthday, while I was still filming that limited series. I-I threw a big party to celebrate the fact that I was turning eighteen, that I was getting my dream roles, that my work was finally coming to fruition and-”

She pauses, leaning back on her bed as she screeches it out of her voice. And what she says hangs in the air, making your head feel like solid metal.

“The party ended and he was…congratulating me on everything. And I told him that I appreciated everything he had done for me, how far he had helped me come. And when-when I said that, he said…if I was really grateful, I’d give him a kiss.”

You pause, the implication sticking in your mind. Eren had hinted it to you before. That people in the industry take advantage, that they’re so powerful, so successful that it makes them feel entitled, deserving of whatever it is they please.

“I fired him. He went on Twitter, made a few tweets about my character when the news broke and you know how he is. They’re-they’re dragging my name through the mud. Calling me spoiled, that I paid to get the roles that I had, calling me names, sending me death threats and I-”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Levi and Hange will be here any minute and you know they’ve had their fair share of this. Hange especially and they’ll know what to do and-” Ymir starts.

“This is career-ruining. I didn’t do anything- anything at fucking all and my career is over if I tell the truth. I have to stay quiet, put my head down, and take it all if I still want to do this and I do.”

You all sit quietly, head down as she pants, the words angrily spilling out of her mouth. The words hang in the air, the silence deafening. Because what do you even say to that?

Can you really compromise your own feelings for the sake of your career? Your art?

“Okay, Historia. Let’s talk, just us, okay?”

You all turn your heads to find Levi and Hange leaning against the doorframes, Erwin standing at the back too. You all stand up, Historia running first to Hange and the rest of you following suit. You and Eren reach for Levi first, squeezing him way too hard. Levi ruffles both of your hair as you look up at him, a soft smile pressed against his face.

“Okay, run off. Let us talk to Historia first, okay?”

You both nod, letting go of Levi as you walk down the hall.

“Levi?”

“Hm, Y/N?”

“I missed you.”

“Don’t be corny, brat.” Levi responds, glaring at you. You smile back and he most definitely murmurs something that sounds like I miss you too as you and Eren walk out.

The lot of you settle for milling around the kitchen, Mikasa talking Ymir down from her hill of rage in the back. You can’t help but watch Eren in the back corner, leaning against the counter with his eyes fixed on the outside.

There’s a group of stormy, angry-looking gray clouds simmering in the air above, the grass outside lush and green. It’s positively gloomy, the weather matching the storm brewing in all of your heads.

Eren flicks his eyes over at you, making a gesture for the two of you to go outside. You nod, setting down your phone as you walk over to him, the two of you sliding open the side door and walking out onto the pavement. Historia’s house opens up onto a nice green field, surrounded by lush, flowery hills.

He’s walking faster than you, his long legs carrying him to the closest slope. When the breeze picks up, it’s moving through your hair strongly and sending a shiver down your spine with it.

“Are you cold?”

“Just a little, Eren. I didn’t realize it would be this cold outside.”

He immediately shrugs off his dark green hoodie, the one you’ve seen a hundred times, and yanks it over your head. He’s placing it over your head haphazardly and you can hear him laughing at your protests.

“You know, you could have at least aimed for my head when you yanked it on me.”

“Be quiet. Let’s sit.”

He plops down onto the grass, lying flat against the flowers as you join him. You’re both watching the clouds swirl above, the blades of grass whistling in the wind against your hands.

“This is lying down, Eren.”

“Oh, shut up. Do you always have to talk back?”

You turn your head to the side, looking into his eyes.

“Maybe a little bit.”

He rolls his eyes, turning his head back to the sky. You can tell he’s more tense than usual, his jaw clenched against his skull and his eyebrows knit in irritation.

“Are you okay, Eren? You've seemed off today and-”

“Quit asking me that!”

You’re thrown off by the immediate rejection, the tone in his voice so angry it nearly makes you flinch. You can feel your skin burning - in embarrassment and humiliation for asking him something stupid-

His hand comes down on yours, squeezing three times, as he shifts over to face you. You follow suit, the two of you lying on your sides, face to face with your interlocked hands in between you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I-I’m not mad at you. Marco and Connie, they’ve just been asking all day and I’m okay and it’s just getting tiring to-”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I-I can never be mad at you, I just-just got frustrated for a second, but never at you.”

You lift your hand, placing it on his ice-cold cheek, and squeeze once.

“It’s okay, Eren. I know,” you whisper.

He gives you a smile, closing his eyes as he leans his head against the flowers. They’re pale yellow and you silently wonder if they’re as soft as Eren’s skin feels under your hand.

“I’m not okay, Y/N.” he whispers.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“I-I have a brother.”

“Zeke. I remember, Eren.”

“We-we don’t really get along anymore, but I loved him when I was a kid. He was always so cool - driving me around in his car to get ice cream, teaching me tricks on all the video games I used to play, and acting in all these really cool shows. But, he-he”

You place a hand on his shoulder, moving it back and forth and trying your best to comfort him into talking. Eren was always the worst with words.

“He had a scandal like this. And then he started talking to all these big producers, acting differently all of a sudden. He stopped talking to me all together after it all happened and only to my parents when he needed something. Even to this day, he’s come back from what happened but he was never the same. And I-”

“That’s not going to happen to Historia, Eren. Don’t think like that.”

He leans forward, dragging you into his embrace, as he digs his face into the crook of your neck. You bring your hands up, dragging him through the tresses of his brown hair as he squeezes harder.

“It just-I got iced out by him. I wanted to be around him, wanted to be him and he just stopped talking to me all together. I loved him so much and I-

“Eren. Historia loves you. She’s not going to ice you or any of us out from this because she’s not like that. None of us will. And maybe your brother had a reason for what he did.”

You and Eren stay like that for a few minutes, the words hanging in the air between you. You can feel your chest stinging at Eren’s words, his stress from the situation making more sense now. You curse the fact that Eren might have been dealing with something like death threats, people spewing hatred before he was old enough to even understand what it meant.

“Hey. You’re supposed to be on my side, Y/N.”

“This is being on your side. Sometimes that means being a devil's advocate a little bit, Eren.”

He rolls his eyes as he readjusts and you can’t help but stare at them. His eyes. Bottle green, with specks of darker shades in the middle. Like a clear ocean or a shiny gem, glittering even in the dull light of the clouds.

“What are you thinking, Y/N?”

“Your eyes have lots of colors, Eren. Pretty greens.”

“Pretty?”

“Pretty.”

He smiles, bringing a hand up to your cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of your lips. You can feel your body burning at the touch, at his eyes, at his smell all over you.

“Eren. What are you do-”

“Do you ever think about how we live in a fishbowl?”

“A fishbowl?”

“Like an aquarium. We’re fish on display, that everyone gets to point at and laugh at and enjoy. And then one day, when they don’t like us, they put their rods out and wring us out.”

“I guess, Eren. Why do you-”

“I like being a fish with you.”

You lean back, squinting your eyes at him.

“You like being a fish with me?”

“I just mean- that I- I like”

“You think I smell like a fish, Eren.”

“What? I didn’t say that- oh my god, I just meant that we’re two fishes swimming together and-”

“The plural of fish is fish. Not fishes.”

Eren rolls his eyes, getting up off the grass to tackle you in the grass, pinning you down by your arms to hover over you. He’s smirking at you, his lips only a few feet from yours.

“You’re annoying, Y/N. I was trying to be cute.”

“Let me go. Is this how you treat your fellow fish?”

“Shut up. We’re not fish together anymore because you’re rude.”

He gets up off of you, plopping back into the grass next to you. You’re both laughing, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard and the blood rushing to your head.

“I’m just teasing, Eren. The whole fish thing is cute.”

“Now you’re just saying that so I’ll stop being mad at you.”

“Hey! I get what you’re saying. It’s like…we’re fish. People stare and talk and whatever and it sucks. And no one really understands what it’s like to be a fish, even when they’re staring at us through the glass, but you do. They’ll always be something between us and them, but you and I are always on the same side. We-we have each other.”

He smiles, bringing his hand back up on the back of your neck and pulling you closer to his face. When he talks, he whispers, the breath tickling your skin.

“So if you got the fish thing why were you giving me so much attitude about it?”

“I have to keep you in line, Eren. You can’t have all the cards.”

“I don’t even have one, Y/N. Not even one when it comes to you.”

He smiles, his eyes shut as he leans forward to press his lips to yours. But before he can, his phone starts buzzing behind him and he leans back, the two of you awkwardly scrambling off of each other.

The moment passed.

“Reiner. This better be something fucking good.”

“What? Okay, we’re coming back now. Oh my god.”

Eren stands up, holding out a hand to you. You place your hand in his and he nearly yanks you up, the two of you running downhill back to the house.

“What-what happened?”

“The TV awards. They announced the nominations.”

When you both run back in, Reiner and Marco immediately drag you to the center couch, next to Historia who's crying puddles and Ymir who's holding her like there’s no tomorrow.

“Hisu got a nomination. Despite this shit.” Reiner says, smiling.

You and Eren smile at each other too, piling onto Ymir and Historia, and squeezing hard. A win.

When the program starts again, you’re all staring intently at the screen, you and Eren anxiously fumbling with each other’s hands as you wait for it. They’ve announced almost all of them, except the major acting ones which are the only ones you and Eren could really be nominated for.

“Speaking of historic nominations, lead actor for hit series Attack on Titan, Eren Jaeger, has garnered three nominations - including a major six category for Actor in a Lead Role. He is the youngest person to be nominated for this award.”

You turn your head, squeezing the entire circulation out of Eren’s hand as the realization sinks in. Actor in a Lead Role. Like Eren’s lifelong dream, Actor in a Lead Role. You reach forward, tangling your arms around his neck as Reiner and Mikasa pile on too, the three of you nearly strangling him by the way you’re shaking him.

“Okay, okay let me go. You’re going to kill me before I can even go to the show and lose.”

“Shut up. You’re so winning.”

He rolls his eyes at you both keep watching the lady, announcing the costume design and casting awards.

“And finally, our record-breaking announcement. Lead actress for the hit series Attack on Titan, Y/N L/N, has broken history by being our most nominated actress in Institute history. Including nominations for the ensemble cast, she has garnered five nominations, including two major six categories for Actress in a Lead Role and Breakout Actress. She is the first non-SHWA affiliated actress and the youngest to ever do so.”

Eren drops the remote and turns to you, cupping your face in his hands and dragging your face as close as he can to his.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You-you’re insane. You just-”

He nearly leans forward, pressing your lips together for the second time in the past twenty minutes, but Marco and Mikasa cut him off before you can, the two of them jostling you from his embrace to squish you in a hug. You give Eren an apologetic look, which he shakes his head at.

They’re all squishing you so hard - Levi and Hange pressing kisses to the top of your head and Historia squeezing the life out of all of you - but all you can think about is one thing. Eren, standing a few feet away from you, smiling at you like you’re the sun.

It only occurs to you then and there.

That you’re in love with Eren Jaeger.

You guys leave on your press tour two weeks later, meeting up in New York. You have a full day of interviews for the pre-awards show the day before and then you’re all going to fly out to Los Angeles together and attend the awards.

Not only are you nominated for six awards - which you still haven’t wrapped your head around - you’re also performing at the show. Your agent had reached out to you a few days after the nominations list went out and mentioned that you were listed to perform at the show.

You hacked it out with Eren. You’d play the piano and perform New Year’s Day, the song you wrote together last year on your birthday, and be done with it. It’s the song you have the most practice working on since the rest of your songs are half-baked.

But now that you’re doing press, you barely have any time to practice - being stuck between interviews all day. You shake the thought from your head as you and Eren clip your microphone jacks to each other’s shirts before walking onto the stage and standing in view.

“My name is Eren Jaeger and I’m one of the leads of Attack on Titan.”

“My name is Y/N L/N and I’m the other lead of Attack on Titan. We’re going to be taking a Friendship Test today!”

Around halfway through the interview, the crew brings you and Eren little notepads and pens, instructing you guys to compliment each other. You scribble a few thoughts down as you and Eren stand on the stage, now facing each other.

“Okay, you first, Eren.”

Eren flips the notepad in his hands, awkwardly fumbling with his fingers when he does. When he looks up, his green eyes are awkwardly meeting yours.

“Jeez, Eren. I didn’t realize it would be this hard for you to compliment me.”

“Shut up. I was just thinking about how to start.”

“More like thinking of what to say.”

“Be quiet.”

“Okay, okay. Compliment me, Jaeger.”

He rolls his eyes, giving you a smile as he runs his eyes over the notepad. He seems much more at ease now, the awkwardness from before coming off in waves.

“Y/N. I am the most stubborn person on the planet. Which only speaks volumes about how patient, understanding, and compassionate you really are for being my best friend.”

You can feel your throat getting dry and your eyes welling with tears at literally the first sentence, taken aback by how sincere Eren’s being. The soft eyes, the one he only reserves for when he’s lying down on hills or writing songs with you on the piano are out in the flesh, and they’re making your heart pound so much you’re sweating under the lights.

“You’ve always been able to sense my feelings - my happiness, my frustrations, my pain - without me having to tell you. And you always, always know how to say the right thing to bring me back down to Earth from it all. You make me a better person and I love you for it.”

You can feel the tears streaming down your eyes as reach up to wipe your tears away, knowing you’re smudging the makeup your team spent hours on.

“You’re not terrible to look at either.”

He smiles into the camera on the side and you can feel the tears spilling from your eyes, your nose filling with snot.

“Eren.”

“Told you it was good.”

“Shut up. That was so sweet, I didn’t even know you knew half of those words, let alone what they mean.”

Eren reaches forward, rolling his eyes at you as he squishes your cheeks.

“I literally just called you the best person I know and you’re still being annoying?”

“Yes. It’s a full-time job.”

He turns to the camera, moving your squished face towards the camera with him.

“Do you guys see what I have to deal with? My girl is literally the most stubborn person on the planet.”

“Didn’t you call me infinitely patient five seconds ago?”

You both stand back on your marks as you wipe your tears, reaching forward to hold Eren’s hand. You squeeze three times, which he returns with another three squeezes, before you take your own notepad and read your compliment out to Eren.

“Eren. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. Not only because you took a chance on me after our first screen test, but every other hiccup along the way was only something I could swallow because of you. You-your steadfast determination and belief in me is something so inspiring, so warm unlike anything else. You’ve always been a safe place for me, somewhere I can always run to when I need someone. I’m so glad we can always be fish together.”

Eren smiles at the fish line, leaning forward to crush you in a hug. You can smell the clean laundry smell on his shirt, breathing it in as you soak in Eren’s embrace around you.

“Hey Y/N.”

“Hey Eren.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too, Eren.”

After the interview is over, you and Eren are stuck on this stage for another hour before the rest of the cast comes to do another interview. You both stay in the back, near the snack table and run through the song again.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know why I got signed up to perform at this thing. I-I don’t think I’m ready to perform this song yet.”

“You are. New Year’s Day is a great song and you’re an amazing singer. Plus, the person you wrote the song about is really attractive, so that helps your case too.”

You reach forward to flick his cheek.

“Shut up. New Year’s Day is not about you.”

“I’m literally your inspiration. You literally wrote a love song about me.”

“You wish, Eren.”

“I don’t have to. I can see it written all over your face, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? When did you become so cocky?”

“When did you become so beautiful?”

“Eren.”

“Y/N.”

You’re both cut off by one of the crew members, a shorter, older woman standing near the table with her eyes fixed on you. She smiles when you guys both turn towards her, extending her out.

“Hi. My name is Le-”

“Leila. I remember. You helped us fix the microphone packs before we started!” you respond.

“Oh. Yes, Leila. I can’t believe you remembered that. I-I was going to ask you for a favor if that’s okay.”

“Sure. We’d love to help however we can.”

“My daughter. She’s a really, really big fan of the show. I was wondering if we could take a picture together so we could send it to her.”

You smile, gesturing to Eren to stand up with you as you take a picture with her. You and Eren are both taller than her so you put your hands around her shoulders and muster the biggest smiles you can for the picture.

“Are you sure you didn’t want us to make a video of us saying hi to her or anything? Or maybe call her if she’s free? If there’s a paper here we can sign something as well or anything you want.” you ask.

“Oh, I couldn’t impose. You guys have been so kind already and-”

“Nonsense. Eren and I are just going to sit here and I’d really love to help make her day. You work so hard day and night on these sets for us and make sure everything works by the time we get here and we really, really appreciate it.”

You and Eren end up filming a video for her daughter since she’s already asleep so you can’t call her, and you and Eren also sign a few posters for her to take home to her daughter.

“Y/N. Just so you know, you’re amazing. My daughter was so inspired when you signed yourself up to perform at the awards show after you openly talked about how nervous it makes you. You actually gave her the courage to sign up for a dance team at her school and she actually made it on the team now. My point is you’re a big inspiration to everyone and the strides you’re making for all of us don’t go unnoticed.”

She gives you both one last hug as she runs off back to the other side of the set, giving you a smile as she leaves. Eren brings his hand around your shoulder, leaning forward as he smiles at you.

“You hear that, Y/N? You’re an inspiration.”

“It’s weird to hear that, Eren. I remember being that kid watching Hange win on the screen when I was little. And if I win-”

“When. When you win.”

“If I win, it’s weird to think that I could be that for someone else.”

“You’ve always been that way. People are just noticing it now.”

“Do you have to sign yourself up to sing for the awards, by the way? Because…I never even told my agent that I had written a song. She just told me that I would be performing and then I started prepping.”

“Yeah. You have to send a demo for them to accept the performance.”

You lean back, even more confused than you were before. There’s no demo of New Year’s Day. How could they accept your performance if there’s no record of you singing it? How could they even know you wrote a song when the only person who knows you even finished it was Eren?

Eren.

“What did you do?”

“Hm?”

“You did something, Eren. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Eren.”

“Maybe, I took the sheet music and recorded a demo of me singing it. And convinced them that it would sound even better when you did it, because it’s your song.”

You smack him across the shoulder.

“You signed me up to sing the song? In public, on live television?”

“The song is good. You’re a phenomenal singer. And you can’t become a triple threat unless people hear you sing.”

You stand on the other side of the curtain, shiny and gold, as you readjust your dress one last time. You take a deep breath as you give a smile to Marco and Jean, who are right behind you, squeezing your arms.

“You’re good. You look great and you’re going to kill it tonight. And Eren just walked out on the carpet so he’ll be right there.” Marco says, smiling brightly at you.

You nod, giving the two of them a smile back, as you part the curtains and walk out onto the red carpet. You can feel your ankles shaking from the heels you were wearing, making sure to walk slowly so they didn’t tangle with the long, purple billowing fabric of your dress. As you turn to the right, you’re immediately blinded by the flashing lights and the sound of screaming from the photographers on the other side of the red carpet.

The lights are so blinding that you can feel yourself squinting, trying your hardest to muster a smile with your eyes closed. You can already feel the embarrassment coming on from how these pictures are going to trend later, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Put these on.”

You turn to the left to see Eren, his hair messily styled to perfection. He’s holding up sunglasses, a matching pair in his hand as well. You both place them on your nose, garnering a big amount of cheers from the paparazzi as you both pose together, Eren’s hand around your waist.

“How did you know?” you whisper under your breath.

“You can barely handle Armin’s Polaroid. You get used to the flashes, but the first time it’s hard to adjust. And this is a big night, so I had to make sure I had a contingency plan.” he says.

“Always thinking ahead, huh?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

All you can think about is the awards, the performance, and the anxiety building in your stomach with every passing second. You force a smile as you both walk down the carpet, stopping every few seconds to take pictures and smile. At one point, Eren stands in front of you in the camera, blocking the view.

“What a picture, Eren. You really want them to get a shot of your ass?”

“No. Your dress. It’s kind of sliding off the side.”

You look down, realizing that in all the movement and sweating you’re doing under the lights, that one of the clasps keeping the fabric in place came undone. You quickly tuck the clasp back together and look up to shoot Eren a smile.

“Thanks. You just saved me from flashing everyone on the carpet.”

“That doesn’t sound too horrible, doll.”

You and Eren turn around to find Sukuna and Nobara standing at your side, the two of them wrapping their arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheeks. Eren immediately yanks Sukuna off, his arm stiff around Sukuna’s shoulder.

“You never get less annoying, do you?” Eren asks.

“Not really, no.”

“You look really pretty, Y/N. We’re really rooting for you, we want you to win.” Nobara says, her hands squeezing yours.

“Don’t get your hopes up. These types of things are kind of a long shot, Kugi.”

“We know. Doesn’t stop me from rooting for you though.”

You smile, leaning to take a picture with her before the four of you walk off to the side, continuing your conversation.

“Where are Yuu and Maki? I haven’t seen them since they started dating and stopped responding to my texts.”

Sukuna and Nobara share an awkward look, leaning forward to whisper in your's and Eren’s ears.

“They broke up. Well, just wait. You know the mess they're in is going to find its way to the tabloids somehow.”

You and Eren cringe as you share a look, thinking about Historia’s scandal from a few weeks ago. You can’t imagine how much worse it must be when it involves the two of them. The intimate details of their relationship being on display.

“You look pretty, doll. Way more confident and self-assured than you were when I met you. It suits you.”

Eren slithers his hand around your waist, the grip firm, as he responds to Sukuna.

“She’s always been like that.”

“Okay, Eren. Pipe down. I’m not about to be swapping saliva with your girl anytime soon. Though you might want to get a move on that, everyone’s going to have their eyes on your girl by the end of the night.” Sukuna says, smirking at Eren.

“You sound disgusting, Sukuna. Like a pervert.” Nobara says, rolling her eyes at him.

“That’s what happened with Yuuta and Maki. Everyone went all gaga for Yuuta after the movie dropped. And after she sings too, Eren’s going to fight to stay afloat over here.”

“Ignore him, Eren. His neurons are decaying as we speak.” Nobara responds, giving Eren a smile.

“I’m well aware,” Eren says, giving the two of them a smile as they walk away.

As Sukuna walks away, Eren only tightens his grip on your waist, literally seething with anger as he turns to you. You can tell he’s burning, that he’s jealous or aggravated like he always is when Sukuna's around, and you put a hand on his shoulder.

“I hate that guy. So much, Y/N.”

“You know he just says that because you’re easy to piss off right?”

“Are you really taking his side?”

“I’m just saying. You give him a lot to work with when you react like that. You should try to be zen. Like a flower.”

"I'm so zen right now."

"There's a vein on your forehead that's pulsating from how hard you're clenching your jaw, Eren. You're more of a cactus than a pretty flower."

Eren rolls his eyes as he drags you into the auditorium, the two of you taking your seats at the front.

Five awards later - two of which you won - and you’re standing behind the stage ready to puke. You choked out your best acceptance speech when you won Breakout Actress, spilling tears as you spoke, and luckily enough the other award was one you and Eren won together. He carried most of your speech together, though Eren spent most of it raving about you.

Reiner’s still on stage, doing his acceptance speech for Breakout Actor and you’re ready to annihilate yourself. When you came back out after winning your award, getting ready for the performance, you received the worst news possible.

You have to play the piano while you sing. You have to play the piano while you sing because the pianist you’ve been practicing with has food poisoning.

You lie down flat on the ground, the silver dress you just put on, feeling heavy against your skin, weighing you down.

“Are you okay? Y/N, you’ll be fine, it's just a piano.”

Marco brings his hands to the side of your face, lifting your head so he can rest it on his lap. You’re totally aware of the fact that Marco’s sitting on this disgusting floor with you, in his expensive ass outfit, because you’re having a meltdown. You make a mental note to thank him for it later.

“Oh my fucking god, Y/N. Can you believe it? We’re literally breakout stars.”

You look up at Reiner, now having come off the stage with his shiny silver trophy in hand and a huge smile on his face. You give him a weak smile back, the pressure in your head only getting more intense when you realize it’s your turn. Reiner nearly cringes at the sight of you, which you ignore as you flutter your eyes shut. After the ad break, they’re going to roll out a shiny black piano you're expected to play.

“Get Eren.” Marco says and Reiner gives a swift nod. Reiner leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, whispering good luck, before he runs off into the background.

Not even thirty seconds later, you’re met with Eren, a third person now sitting on the dirty floor with you with the softest expression on his face. He’s taken both of your hands, pressing your knuckles to his lips as he presses a kiss onto them both.

“You okay?”

“The pianist. Has food poisoning. I have to play the New Year’s Day piano, Eren.”

“You have magic hands. You can do it.” he whispers.

You can feel Marco’s hands in your hair, fixing away the flyaways as you look up at him. Marco nods too and you can feel yourself feeling dizzy.

“I can’t do it. I can’t sing for the first time and play the piano. I-I can’t do this.”

"Y/N. Come on. You can do this."

You can feel the tears burning in your eyes when you meet Eren's bottle green ones, washed over in concern. And you know that it's just a piano, that it's juat a crowd, and that it's a song that you've sang a million times. But the anxiety is as big as a balloon, ready to burst into something ugly the second you walk out there under the lights.

Eren frowns as he looks over at the piano, getting rolled out onto the stage, and the crew awkwardly looking at you splayed out on the ground. They're pointing at their watches, signaling that if you're going to perform, you're going to do it now. And Eren can't let you choke, not when it's this important. So he does the only thing he can think of.

“I’ll play the piano."

You sit up and put your hands on his shoulders, squeezing hard on the fabric of his suit.

"Huh?"

"I'll sit at the bench with you. Play it for you so you can focus on singing."

“Really, Eren?” you whisper.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you?”

You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, his face immediately turning pink at the sensation. He holds his hand out and helps you up, his hands leaning forward to fix the folds of your dress. You both stand on the side of the curtains and you’re nearly positive you’re cutting off circulation to both Marco and Eren’s hands as you wait for your cue.

When you and Eren walk out, taking your seats on the piano bench and adjusting the microphones, you stare at the crowd. There’s a light flashing on you and Eren that’s partially obstructing your vision. You’re staring out at them - two hundred faces you don’t know and half a million watching at home.

Don’t choke. Don’t choke. Don’t choke.

It’s only then that Eren stops playing the piano, his hand on his shoulder shaking you. And then you realize now that he had started. Meaning he had played the entire intro waiting for you to sing and you didn’t. That you blanked on stage. He places his hand on your chin, lightly guiding your face to look at his.

“It's okay. Just you and me. Like we did on set okay?”

You nod and Eren starts playing the piano again. And before you know it, you’ve choked out the last lyric, and Eren’s holding your hand as you both bow on the stage. You see people cheering, standing up out of their seats as you walk off and you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. When you get off into the curtains, they immediately start yank the microphones off of you two as you reach forward for Eren’s hand.

“I-I blacked out. Was it bad?”

“It was amazing. You’re amazing. You-you’re”

Eren leans forward, wrapping his hands around your neck and pressing his lips to yours. You can still feel people moving around you, setting up things for the closing part of the ceremony, but the only thing you’re paying attention to is Eren. And his lips. And the way he’s pulling you closer like he can’t get enough of you.

When you pull apart, you’re both panting, smiling at each other, foreheads pressed together.

“Thank god. If I got cock-blocked from kissing you a third time, I was actually going to commit murder.”

“You want me so bad,” you say, sarcastically.

“Obviously.”

You both smile and turn to the left, to a very smiley Marco staring at you two. And then you cringe, remembering that you and Eren are literally backstage and there are like seven people who just watched you suck face in public. Marco walks up, wrapping his arms around both of you and hugging hard.

“I love you guys.”

“Marco. Don’t-” Eren starts.

“I’m not going to tell anyone. You need time to figure out whatever is going on, without Connie and Sasha up your ass the entire time. But I’m really, really happy for you.”

“Really, Marco?” you ask, leaning into Eren’s touch.

“It’s always been you guys. You guys better not break up or else I’ll come hunt both of you down. And if I’m dead, I’ll come back to life just to haunt you guys.”

You both laugh, smiling at Marco and then each other. Levi and Mikasa call you from the other side of backstage, gesturing for you to come over to watch the video of the performance. You give Marco and Eren a smile before you run off to where they’re standing.

“Told you she liked you, Eren,” Marco says, elbowing him in the side.

“I love her,” Eren responds, watching Mikasa and Levi crush you in a hug as you all hunch over the video of you and Eren performing.

Marco smiles, giving Eren a pat on the back before he walks off to join you. Eren stays, trying to commit the memory to mind. You in a sparkly, silver dress looking at him like he's the sun.

Eren Jaeger is in love with you.

Two afterparties later and you and Eren are in a disgusting tattoo parlor down the street.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this, Eren.”

Eren smiles as he presses a kiss to your cheek, the two of you leaning through the little prints in the binder. You’re getting matching tattoos.

“I can be very persuasive.”

“Uh-huh. More like hypnotic. I’m half convinced you have me under some spell right now.”

“You pick what we do. Whatever you want, I’ll get it tattooed.”

“We should do something special, Eren. Like something that has significance to us.”

Eren smiles, lifting your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles again before he responds.

“Okay, okay. Let’s do fish.”

You smile, nodding at him.

“Koi fish. Like from that show, the Last Airbender. One fish is the ocean and the other one is the moon” you say.

“I call the ocean, Y/N.”

“What? I wanted to be the ocean.”

“No. That doesn’t fit.”

“Why not?”

“Because the moon pulls on the ocean. The waves in the ocean, objectively the best part, don’t exist without the moon. I’m the ocean. You’re my moon.”

You smile, leaning forward to kiss Eren before you tell the artist the design you two want. And when the two of you walk out, matching sore arms from the ink, you can’t help but wonder how you ever got so lucky in the first place.

A few years down the line, you stare at Eren's blocked contact and think back to that moment. The two of you running down the streets, bathed in dim lamplight laughing into the night. Matching tattoos, a confession on the tips of your tongues like you're two soulmates destined to be together.

You wonder where it got so fucked up between the two of you in the first place.

next part linked here

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