Tumgik
#I always have a picture in my little brain of what a scene looks like and it’s interpreting that scene into writing
neiptune · 3 months
Text
jjk characters x how to know they're in love
cw: mentions of alcohol, i wanted something quick and fun to write, as always this is nothing but my personal interpretation of characters i happen to love very much! i really hope these will warm you up on cold december nights :)
Tumblr media
it's common knowledge that yuuji is affection & warmth incarnated therefore the question is, how can you tell that someone like him has fallen for you and is not simply being his usual self? well, he had to learn the hard way that extra efforts are needed to convey what he feels for that special someone. they aren't going to assume, they won't guess, so what's left to do if not being absolutely adamant about his feelings? you will know yuuji is in love because he will tell you. yuuji, in turn, will know he's in love because his heart will disclose the feeling to him immediately, as soon as he starts thinking that a good day is not so good if you're not around and certainly never good enough if he can't tell you about it. his love resides in his eyes and nestles between his eyelashes, it's the one thing he's jealous of and selfishly hopes no one else will ever look at you and see just how brightly you shine. he makes the process of falling for him exceptionally gentle, too: you never once have to brace yourself for the landing because he would never allow you to crash to the ground anyway.
megumi knows the second he starts noticing all the times you're not there, which means he will stop taking for granted the mornings when you utter soft greetings or show up with an extra coffee for him. he knows when the fact that you have his order memorized feels special enough to make him want to investigate & find out what your order is, an entire afternoon spent racking his brain & asking himself if you enjoy milk or cream or nothing at all, exasperation forcing him to sternly interrogate mutual friends until a conclusion is reached at last. you will know megumi is in love when he stops hiding away from your touch, pretty blush coating his cheeks as the pads of your fingers explore his features, travel along the bridge of his nose or run through his strands. his love is strong, explodes in a chest that feels exceptionally hollow when you're not pressed against it at night. megumi thinks being in love is scary and something he may not be entirely built for and yet he welcomes the feeling bravely, never shying away from a challenge with himself.
it would take nobara some time to get accustomed to the idea of having fallen for you: she doesn't let people in easily and the fact that you have managed to reserve such a unique seat for the messy spectacle that is her life takes her breath away for quite some time. she knows she's in love as she rejects the idea right away, to protect herself and to protect you. what does she have to offer, really? why would you want to take whatever she has to give? still, nobara can't help but constantly bring the thought of you with her. she's shopping, busy paying for a cute sweater and oh, would you look at that? you'd love that shirt, so she gets it. she's at the movies with yuuji and a particularly disgusting scene comes up: he's in awe and, with a grimace, she knows you'd find that splatter mess cool too. so she has to snap a picture and send it, heart nearly bursting at the little "seen" that blinks at her just a few seconds after the message is sent. nobara's love is on her lips, as they tremble when she's at her most vulnerable, when they trace your jaw and explore your throat. you know she is in love way before she stops resisting it, way before she even realizes herself.
oh man satoru will know he's in love the literal second he feels the urge to talk to you. i know the man never shuts the fuck up but he'll want to really talk to you: he can't bear the thought of his reputation, fame, or whatever you want to call it, shaping the idea you have of him. he knows he's in love because he cares about what you actually think, he worries that his smart mouth has annoyed you beyond repair, for once he is desperate to sculpt his true identity himself and engrave it in your mind. you know satoru is in love when he speaks of what he doesn't mention to anyone else: his walls are not particularly high but he calls the shots on who gets to climb over them and he wants to welcome you on the true side of his persona so badly it keeps him awake at night. satoru's love lives in his hands, pale, lithe fingers that always have to be on you somehow. he touches you to make sure you're listening, to check if you're actually in his kitchen putting breakfast together. he touches you to memorize the spaces between your ribs, to wonder if between all the muscular layers and the neurovascular bundle there is room for him to take root in the body of the very first person he truly wants to stay alive for.
suguru is already all too familiar with love and its many facets: affection, devotion, loyalty, obedience. he's received a great deal of what he recognizes as love but hasn't really ever been in the position of reciprocating the feeling in its most raw, helpless form. yet, that is exactly what you reduce him to. he'll know he's in love when all he wants is truly, actually listen to you. learn all there is to learn, explore all there is to discover. you know suguru is in love when he stares at you so intently as you speak, not even interrupting the string of sentences to warn you about the tea he has prepared going cold, his own cup turned icy long ago. you know suguru is in love because he makes no secret of how avidly he craves your presence in his life, of the way for the very first time he prays it doesn't come with any deal breakers: is it okay that he has two young daughters? will the blood on his hands scare you off? the feeling of being in love conquers his entire being, selfish tenderness blossoming in his lungs, flowing relentlessly in blood vessels and vertebral arteries. you take over. you soothe his mind. you're all he feels, you're everything he'll ever want to have. tell him, tell him, tell him and then tell him some more: he'll be there to take you in every chance he gets.
to me shoko's approach to love is very analytical, she doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. she'll know she's in love because you prompt all the usual reactions: racing heart and occasional sweaty palms, happiness, the so-called butterflies in her tummy. but unfortunately she also knows the scientific details about what's really going on, which makes everything far less romantic. noradrenaline, dopamine, phenylethylamine. love isn't but a fairly complex chemical reaction, the feeling given by attraction doesn't differ much from what stems from indulging in a couple bottles of wine. and yet alcohol doesn't smile the way you do, the thought of it doesn't make her stop in the middle of a medical examination and it certainly doesn't make her want to go out of her way to change. shoko will know she's in love as the feeling plants itself in her altered brain chemistry and convinces her that her personality should follow suit. because you'd never want someone who seems so distant, always calm and rational and so... boring. right? you'll know shoko is in love because she makes the effort and she'll know you're the right match the moment you murmur that you'd never want her to change, to be anything but the powerful, familiar grounding force that makes her so graciously human.
nanami writes more when he's in love. he's always been a reader, never has enough time to explore all the books he keeps adding to his never ending list really, but he's also always been a writer: short stories, haikus, poems, single sentences that are nothing but timid attempts at encapsulating days, moments, feelings, nights spent thinking or reminiscing. you start to become part of those stories, of those messily scribbled poems and thoughts. this will sound very cheesy but i'm confident nanami's love settles over his heart like a warm blanket. he knows he's in love when everything he reads, writes, does, leads back to you. what good are his cooking skills if he can't make you your favorite dinner? why should he buy that book he's been waiting forever to start, if there's this other novel you can't stop excitedly telling him about? did his writings ever hold any value before he could go through the pages of one of his leather bound notebooks, you comfortably settled in his arms, back pressed to his chest on the couch he only bought because you jokingly said it could accommodate you both? you know he's in love because softness settles in the corners of his eyes whenever you utter his name, an elegant fountain pen frozen mid air at the sound of your voice, the simple word kento suddenly earning a whole new meaning, always pronounced with an inflection so special it's now more than just his name.
yuuta feels a lot and he feels it deeply: fear, courage, affection. his feelings clutch his stomach and make him feel as if his insides are being squeezed. he doesn't appreciate newness, he's perfectly content with the people who are part of his life and a routine that doesn't make him wonder what the new day will bring. but then you happen and the boy who thought he knew everything is left to learn something new about himself: how he navigates a love that is real, pulsing with life, threatening to overturn his carefully built balance. he welcomes it tentatively, willing to learn, accepting the chance that he might have to confront it. but love doesn't turn out to be a challenge for him. yuuta knows he's in love because it's the first thing that feels easy in his life, to love you is the one thing that comes naturally. you know he's in love because he doesn't attempt to hide it and, hell, he doesn't even care if love makes him weird. he wants you there always, wants to ask about your day and hopes you'll also going to be interested in his. yuuta wants to pose silly questions because you're the first real person he needs to learn everything about. have you ever slow danced? how often do you experience food poisoning? what's your favorite song to sing in the shower? it's okay if you don't love him back too (as if lmfao), you have already given him everything by allowing him to find out that he can feel this way.
as a heavily stubborn & independent person, maki would understand right away that you're dangerous. a threat, even. she'd interally panic about it lol too bad you're equally strong-willed and determined to break through that standoffish facade. you succeed earlier than expected but maki won't let you know until months later, the first christmas holidays spent together, yuuta's house warming party the perfect excuse to indulge in a little too much mulled wine. you find out that maki's love is all in her voice, sincere affection vibrates along the entire story of your first encounter recounted to a table filled with your mutual friends in great, borderline obsessive detail. she remembers your hair, the outfit you were wearing, that cute tote bag filled with groceries. her voice is warm and tender when no one else can hear it, on the frosty mornings she orders to forget about cooking breakfast to keep you in bed a few minutes more, in secret moments she gets to hold you close and murmur sweet nothings in the curve of your neck, pauses between words and stifled giggles sounding suspiciously similar to i love you, i love you, i love you.
inumaki's love lives in his throat, torments him day and night because there's nothing he would rather speak of. you, you, you. he was always worried he'd fail to express how he truly feels but you happen to get it just right. not just because he makes significant exceptions for you (sorry but the man will speak and his dumbass sense of humor will cause a sore throat endless times) (yes he has used his cursed technique to ask you to stand still while in compromising positions or to give him a kiss after a stupid argument -> you'll do so and then smack his arm as he sticks his tongue out) but most importantly because the limited communication inumaki has been used to ever since forever also forced him to learn how to get the message across differently. and so you know he's in love because he makes sure you have your cup of tea ready in the morning, because he texts you pictures of stray cats or memes he doesn't really understand with a demanding '???' underneath them. you know inumaki is in love because his friends seem to know a whole lot about you and it's only the first time you're meeting most of them. he knows he's in love when you fall asleep next to him and his pointer finger delicately traces the echo of those three words along your spine over and over and over again.
1K notes · View notes
zeezelweazel · 2 months
Note
LOVED the last Leah smut it got me thinking would you be interested in writing something inspired by the new Dyson commercial that one scene where she's on her knees?
Leah Williamson| Sore Loser|
____________________________________________________
I know it's been a while since that commercial but... we were all thinking it don't lie
TW: strap on use, praise kink, mommy kink, light bondage, degradation, taking pictures during sex,
____________________________________________________
Your girlfriend is insanely competitive. Leah is always doing the most to win whenever there's any sort of competition. Especially when it comes to football. It doesn't matter if it's an important match or a friendly, Leah wants to win. But that's not how football works. Losing is a part of the game.
A part of the game Leah definitely doesn't know how to handle.
The skipper all but slapped your hand away when you went to her after the final whistle. You watched with a frown as she went straight for the tunnels, ignoring or snapping at anyone who tried to talk to her.
This is why the blonde is in this position right now. It's not a punishment, you know that's not what Leah needs, just a little something to help her forget about the match and arsenal's horrible performance.
"You look so pretty baby, taking my cock like a good slut."
Leah whines and tries to hide her face in her arms that are tied in front her. Your girlfriend always looked amazing from this view. Ass up, exposing her wet pussy for you to take, with her upper body pushed down on the bed. What makes it even better though is the gorgeous jersey she is currently wearing. It belongs to you with your number and your last name proudly printed on the back. You pull the fabric down a little bit, just to make sure that you can see your name clearly before you start slowly grinding your hips against Leah's.
You've teased the blonde quite a lot today and you're more than impressed with how well she's taken it. You've been completely still inside her for some time now, simply content on snapping pictures of her rather than actually fucking her. Leah is dripping, her juices smeared on her inner thighs and her muscles twitch pathetically at the slightest of movement.
You enjoy having her like this, when she's so desperate a single touch sends her into overdrive.
You rub the soft flesh of her ass appreciatively and hum in delight when Leah's breath hitches. The slow grind of your hips doesn't stop as you start to paw and squeeze at her ass and Leah whimpers and squirms. She mumbles something, her voice muffled by her hands. "I didn't hear you baby."
Leah throws a glance over her shoulder, her blue eyes full of desperate tears when they meet yours, and she whines needily.
"Please mommy, fuck me. I need you."
You grin menacingly when Leah finally begs like the sweet girl she is. You pull out all the way before slamming back in with a powerful thrust. Leah moans loudly and her head falls back down in between her tied hands. You go with slow but hard and deep thrusts making sure to hit all the spots that make her squeal and scream. You groan at the sight of the usually dominant captain on her knees for you moaning and whining like a whore and you pick up your phone once more this time angling the phone so you can capture her greedy cunt swallowing your strap. Leah clenches hard around the strap when she hears the clicking sound of your phone's camera and you smirk down at her.
"God you're such a pathetic slut for mommy." Leah doesn't answer but you don't expect her too, the blonde's brain so high on pleasure that the only thing she can do is moan and scream for you. After you put your phone down you rub over her clit with your free hand and thrashes against the soft sheets of the bed.
"Oh god! Please mommy I wanna come!"
You offer nothing but a chuckle at Leah's pleas as you continue to pound her into the mattress mercilessly. You feel Leah's clit throb against your fingers and you push her head against the sheets when the blonde starts begging again. Leah gets the message and shuts up, hoping that she can hold on long enough because the last thing she wants is to come without permission. You feel the other end of the strap pushing deep in you and you chase your own high, forgetting about Leah for a while.
You groan and grip Leah's hips tightly while your hips stutter and your pace turns fast and sloppy. "You're so fucking tight baby. I'm gonna to come. You want mommy to come inside your pretty cunt?"
"Yes, please!"
You moan quietly and topple over leah as you feel your orgasm approach quickly. Leah on the other hand couldn't fight back her tears. She was bitting her lip hard trying not to come, she oh so desperately wants to be a good girl for you. You take a while to gather yourself after you come. When you do you turn your head towards Leah, moving her hair away from her face and you coo when you notice the tear tracks on her cheeks. You press chaste kisses on her skin and rub her clit again. Leah moans and grinds her hips down on your hand. You pull back to focus on your thrusts not wanting to tease Leah any longer.
"Come for me pretty girl. I know you want to."
Leah comes with a scream after a few seconds but you don't stop your movements, helping Leah ride out her high. After a few minutes of pressing soft kisses all over Leah's face you pull out slowly.
You always feel bad whenever Leah looses a match. Mainly because of how sad she gets. But when you think about how she lets you ravish her after you secretly hope arsenal looses every game.
____________________________________________________
626 notes · View notes
authorhjk1 · 6 months
Note
you can't let it slide so this means... gahyeon smut coming soon?👀
Yes. Yes, it does, indeed. I hope you enjoy this one, although it's a little short.
Interlude: My crazy ex
Lee Gahyeon X Male Reader
Tumblr media
You realize something is weird as soon as you open your eyes. Sitting comfortably in your chair, leaning back, you find yourself in your office. Frowning, you try to remember what happened.
The last memory you have is of Ahin. The two of you fell asleep together. Is this a dream?
You rub your eyes as you sit up straight. Your phone vibrates and you see that you have a message. "My crazy ex"
This is weird. You don't even have your ex girlfriend's number. Who is this?
You open the message to see what the person wrote.
"I miss you, daddy? Why did you break up with me?"
You check her profile picture to see who she is.
Tumblr media
Something weird suddenly happens. As if your dream is over writing your memory. For some reason, you know her name. Gahyeon. Lee Gahyeon. And you start to remember more of her. That she is your ex girlfriend for example.
You shake your head, leaving her on read.
You are about to start your laptop, when you get another notification. Gahyeon send you a picture.
Tumblr media
"I miss your cock, daddy."
You gulp as your eyes widen at her next message.
"Remember how you always fucked my face?"
Actually you do. As if someone is slowly inserting new memory into your brain. Pictures of her messed up face flash through your mind. You can see them, but you don't have any memory on how it felt.
"Last time I couldn't speak for a whole day. Your cock destroyed my throat."
The scene plays out in your brain as you keep reading Gahyeon's messages.
"I know you have a girlfriend. But I just can't help it. Day in. Day out. I keep thinking about that cock of yours."
You feel your cock getting hard at her words.
"I can't do this anymore. I can't live without your cock down my throat."
She sends another picture.
Tumblr media
"Do you remember, when you made me cry? My makeup all messy and smeared after you pounded my mouth?"
You give in to the temptation. It's a dream after all.
"Where are you?"
The second you see that she read your text, someone knocks on the door.
"Come in."
Blonde hair greets you as you watch the woman enter your office.
"Hi, daddy!"
She gives you a bright smile.
"I knew you couldn't resist. I bet that whore doesn't suck cock like I do."
She walks over and leans over the table.
"What is this?"
You point at the glass in her hand.
"We both know what this is. You even made me drink it in public last time."
She keeps her eyes on yours as she puts the glass on the table.
Its not like Gahyeon has much convincing to do. This is a dream. And even if it weren't, Ahin would be more than happy to watch.
Getting up, you point to the granite floor. Without a word, Gahyeon gets on her knees in front of you.
"I knew it. You can't resist my mouth. It's the best flashlight for your cock, isn't it?"
You nod as you watch the blonde almost tearing your pants open.
Another piece of information flashes through your mind. Gahyeon is actually a virgin. She promised herself she would stay that way, until she gets married. Although it looks like she still enjoys getting her throat stuffed with cock.
Your pants and underwear are gone in a blink.
"That's some nice cock you have there, daddy. You know?"
She smiles up at you, before taking it in her hand.
"Can your girlfriend even take all of this?"
Gahyeon strokes you to full hardness as she keeps talking.
"I bet she can't even make it fit."
She gives your tip a kiss.
"Just like your cock is made for my throat, my throat is made for your cock. There is no way around it, daddy."
She winks at you, before taking you into her mouth.
From that moment on you realize, Gahyeon's vocabulary doesn't include the word slow. Her tongue is all over your shaft and her lips are sealed tight around your tip.
With her eyes on you, she starts moving along the length of your cock. It's like she is inhaling it. Before you can even savour the feeling of being in her mouth, Gahyeon is already two thirds down your length. Her wet cavern makes your cock warm and slick with her saliva.
Your head tilts back as she keeps going. For the blonde it's not a proper blowjob, until you are completely inside of her. Anything else is considered foreplay.
The heavy lipstick starts to smear on your cock as Gahyeon moves up and down your shaft, preparing to deep throat you. Once she does, there is no going back. Her throat is heaven on earth. No one else ever felt like this. You can already feel yourself wanting to cum.
With all of your cock inside of her, Gahyeon shakes her head, moving your cock from left to right and back. It makes you hold her head with both hands. When she feels your grip on her head, she nods, wanting you to fuck her face.
As soon as you push inside of her mouth, you realize that this will be a long dream. There is no way you are going to wake up voluntarily.
You start slow at first. Thrusting inside her mouth, feeling Gahyeon's wetness around you. Her puffy cheeks make you want to fill her mouth with cum. The sounds she is making become louder as you hold onto her head tighter.
As you keep going, more and more spit starts to build up in Gahyeon's mouth. It begins to coat your cock. Parts of it dribble out of the corners of her mouth and run down her chin. The increased sloppiness makes you want to fuck her face harder. The look in her eyes tells you to do so.
Your tip hits the back of her throat repeatedly as her face becomes a mess. Gahyeon's hands rest on your thighs as she tries not to lose balance. You feel her throat tighten with every thrust, bringing you closer towards the edge. As fast as Gahyeon starts, she ends as fast as well. There is no real point in trying to hold on.
Her gagging continues to fill the room as you use her throat like a flashlight. Her chin is now coated with her own spit. Because she is not kneeling, but squatting in front of you, her body keeps swaying back and forth due to your thrusts.
You don't stop using her pretty mouth. How could you? Her lipstick has left it's proper place completely. It's all over your shaft as you keep plowing Gahyeon's mouth. Your grip on both sides of her head becomes stronger.
"Gahyeon..."
You groan, trying to tell her you are about to cum. Her eyes light up as she carefully reaches behind her, searching for the glass on your desk.
"Fuck."
You hiss as Gahyeon's throat massages you one last time, before you regretfully have to pull out. The blonde holds the glass underneath you as you start to cum. It does feel kind of weird. As if you are donating your sperm. But you know what Gahyeon is going to do with this. So it's more than worth it.
As you feel the rush of your orgasm leaving you, you watch Gahyeon put the glass back on the table. Her eyes are fixated on your cock once more. Her lower face still messy with her saliva.
"Time for round two, daddy."
The young blonde looks like she doesn't care, if you are ready to go again or not. But the way she looks up at you makes you want to cum again. A smile flashes over her face.
"I'm going to drain you so much, daddy. You won't be able to cum all day tomorrow. I will suck all that cum out of you."
Her hand finds your cock once again. She strokes your half hardened shaft as she tries to make you hard again.
It only takes a couple of moments, until you are deep inside Gahyeon's throat once more. You feel like she can't live without your cock down her throat. Your hands have now moved from the sides of her head, to the back. Holding onto her blonde hair in a makeshift ponytail, you hold her in place as you fuck her face.
Tumblr media
Gahyeon's eye makeup starts to become messy. She didn't put much on, but small black streaks are starting to form on her skin. They start right underneath her eyes, wander over her cheeks, until they reach her jawline. Tear after tear rolls down her pretty face as you use Gahyeon as you like.
Her face and her mouth are a match made in heaven. These tasty looking, plump lips, her puffy cheeks, her big round eyes, her blonde hair. All of it looks like she was made personally by a deity just for you. Or she might even be one.
That ridiculous thought flashes through your mind. Gahyeon's lips sealed tight around your cock as her tongue is pressed against it. She? A goddess? More like a succubus. Although you wouldn't even mind. It's not like you can stop now.
You feel your second orgasm already approaching as you fuck Gahyeon's throat mercilessly. She still doesn't tell you to stop or to go slow. It looks like she is really enjoying the rough treatment she and her throat are getting.
A small puddle of saliva has already formed on your granite floor. Her chin, your cock, her boots, everything is coated in it.
"Fuck, Gahyeon. You are the devil."
You feel her smile around your cock. She can't look up, since your grip on her hair is too tight. As her body keeps swaying back and forth, her messy ponytail sways from left to right.
When Gahyeon starts to move her tongue along the underside of your shaft, you realize it's only a matter of seconds. There is no way you can hold out longer than that.
You feel one of her elegant hands slowly caressing your balls, trying to give you that last push just a second earlier.
"Gahyeon..."
You only have to moan her name like that, Gahyeon knows what to do. Immediately, the glass is ready once more. You shoot your second load into the glass, where the first one is still waiting.
Closing your eyes, you hear Gahyeon putting the glass back down. Both of her hands are on your cock immediately. As you see stars due to how sensitive you are, you know that you will work late tonight.
"Come on, daddy. Just a little bit more."
Gahyeon takes you into her mouth again.
"Please, Gahyeon...."
After having barely survived your sixth orgasm, the blonde is already pushing you towards the seventh. The glass, which is standing on your desk is half full with your cum already.
"Give me that delicious cum of yours."
She sighs seductively, while stroking you closer and closer. By now, cuming is almost painful. You have to hold onto the desk, unable to stand probably.
Because you can't even fuck her face anymore, Gahyeon is more than happy to do all the work.
She closes her lips around your cock again, taking you into her mouth once more. Her blonde hair is sticking to her stained cheeks and forehead by now, due to her sweat and saliva. You feel like your cock is twice as heavy with all her spit on it. Long strings connect her lips with your tip whenever she leans back a little.
"One last trick, daddy."
You search in your fake memory of her, trying to find out, what it might be.
Gahyeon starts slobbering all over your cock and you can't focus on anything else. Although she is sucking you off as fast as usual, the process is starting slowly. But after a couple of moments, the first bubbles start to appear. Over time more and more form around your cock and her lips as she makes a mess of herself and your dick.
The blonde succubus in front of you makes you see stars again as she coats your cock with bubbles of her spit. More and more form around her mouth, the roll down towards her chin, until they fall to the ground. Most of them pop on your cock or in her mouth though, as Gahyeon does her best to squeeze, literally, the last drop of your cum out of you.
"Gahyeon..."
She smiles up at you as she backs away. Her lips covered in those small bubbles. Her hand strokes you as she reaches for the glass one last time.
"Fuck."
You groan as you cum for the last time today. There is not much left. Barely half of the usual amount mixes itself with the glasses contents.
"Time for the main event, daddy."
Gahyeon whispers seductively. You have to blink once or twice to recover all of your senses.
"The most delicious drink in the world."
Your cum hungry ex girlfriend puts the glass with your cum on her saliva smeared lips. She looks up at you as she tilts the glass.
When your thick cum reaches her lips, Gahyeon opens her mouth. She squinches her eyes shut as the delicious liquid enters her mouth. More and more of your warm cum floods her taste buds.
The blonde's mouth is already full and yet she barely drank even half of it. Her puffy cheeks are more than just full. She looks a like hamster.
With her eyes on you, Gahyeon takes one large gulp after the other. One, two, three gulps she needs to finally empty her mouth. The sticky seamen makes it hard for her to swallow properly.
"It tastes so delicious, daddy. Nothing tastes as good as this."
She tilts the glass once more and you are unable to do anything but watch. The last half of your cum finds its way into Gahyeon's hungry mouth. It is wide open as you see her pink tongue reach out to lick up every last remaining drop on the walls of the glass. Her mouth is full with white cum as she looks at you.
Her throat bulges as she swallows almost four loads at once.
"So yummy."
Gahyeon sighs before smacking her lips. Strings of cum connect her tongue with the roof of her mouth. Like small spiderwebs, they still fill her mouth.
"I hope we can do this every day from now on. Your girlfriend doesn't need to know, daddy. I bet she can't even swallow two loads at once."
-----------
I hope you enjoy it, the next chaper will be revieled soon. You can still vote for it.
480 notes · View notes
ratcash-wasgud · 10 days
Note
So like you know that one anime my dress up darling? Yeah so basically Mizu AU that but Mizu's a photographer who loves anime stuff and reader who's her fav cosplayer
Reader does a lot of risque cosplay stuff though and makes Mizu blush having to take close up shots of her body :3
hey lovely!
i've never seen this anime lmao, but this sounds good so I'll give it a go !!
I also made some audios for this one, beause RAAAAAAAAHHHHH I'M FERAL
(btw this is pretty short, and kinda unfinished but I didn't just want to leave this one in the drafts forever.)
Tumblr media
"Okay, could you...hold your hand up a little? Like...to your face?" Mizu mumbles from behind the camera, her tounge darting up to wet her lips. She has done this a couple times before, doing a free photshoot for you while you're in cosplay. Not only because it has both of her favourite things: Anime and pretty women, but because well...it's you.
She has seen your cosplays online a couple times, so when she ran into you on a con, and she asked for you number to do a photshoot later, and you said yes despite her suttering, she almost wet her pants in excitement.
She loves taking pictures of you, in and out of cosplay too. During your three months of knowing eachother Mizu has developed a fat crush on you. She has realized that under you lovely exterior, you're so very sweet on the inside. You always smile even when her camera isn't in her hands, and you bring her sweets and little gifts everytime, as if you owe her anything. If anything, she owes you for letting her gawk at you.
This time is different though. Mizu couldn't take one single usebale picture so far, because her hands are violently shaking. The reason is simple...today's cosplay is Misato, from NGE. But this time, you have your Misato wig and makeup on, but you're outfit consist of a towel wrapped around you, referencing that one scene where she runs out of the bathroom. Why? It's niche. And you love niche stuff.
"Okay uhm...sorry, can we...take a quick break?" Mizu lowers the camera, needing to take a deep breath. She has never been this close to an almost naked woman before, and it's fuzzing up her brain. Plus that almost naked woman happens to be you, so she definetly needs a breather.
"Yeah, sure." You say, straightening your back and getting out of the pose you were just doing. "Is anything the matter?" You ask, giving her that sweet, but so oblivios look she love-hates. It's unbelievable to her that someone as hot as you can be so unaware of the effect she has on people.
"No, no, I just...it's just...I need a bathroom break." Mizu says, not really wanting to admit how insanely attracted to you she is. It would help sooooo much if you knew by default. She escapes to the bahtroom like the coward she is, and washes her face. She checks her phone just to see the groupchat blowing up.
Taigen: omg are u dead yet?
Akemi: staaawp she is probs nervous leave her alone >:(
Ringo: Is she still there? Tell her she is pretty and her smile shines like a thousand suns!
Taigen: dumb ass advice
Taigen: tell her her ass looks good
Akemi: can u stop acting like a dog
Taigen: why it usually works
Mizu just sighs as she reads the texts. They are definetly not helping. She comes out of the bathroom in the same helpless state she was in before. When she sees you again, you're leaning against the wall, the towel slipping a little lower, giving Mizu a clear picture of where your areola starts. She swallows hard, but it's somehow dry and tries her best at wiping her sweaty hands in her pants in the least obvious way.
She must've been staring for a while because you hit her with a "What?" and a chuckle.
"Uh...nothing." Mizu blinks rapidly to snap herself back to reality. "Just uh...you know." Mizu awkwardly gestures at her chest, micking a pulling up motion. "Your uh...fans might die if I took pictures like that."
You look down, realising your towel has slipped. "Oh...Oh God, sorry!" You akwardly laugh as you pull it up. "Jesus...that's so embarasisng." You say, trying to laugh it off.
"No, no, it uh....shouldn't be embarssing. It's fine." Mizu says, waving her hands around in a way that's supposed to be dismissing. "I liked it." She adds quietly.
But, it somehow made it's way to your ears, as you lifted an eyebrow.
"You...did?" You chuckle, tilting your head.
"Uh, I..." Mizu is stunned. Fuuuuuuuuuuck nobody ever hears what she's mumbling why now? Why the most embarassing thing ever?
163 notes · View notes
mayasaura · 7 months
Note
sorry if this has been answered before or if there's a post about this, but I've been seeing a lot of posts labeling harrow as schizophrenic and/or having trouble recognizing reality, including the one you just made about crux as harrow's caretaker and reality-indicator.
I realize that these interpretations come from htn, but I'm curious as why people feel that it's always been a trait of harrow's instead of a side effect of the lobotomy?
I was under the impression that she created the reality problems as an excuse to cover the blocks in her memory, especially since we know that wake/the sleeper didn't possess her until after gtn and most of her confusion happens in the river bubble.
even the "hallucinations" of the body don't really impact her perception of reality, and it's actually alecto's soul not a real hallucination. the only questionable moment I can remember is when she sees cytheria under the bed and ianthe says there's nothing there, but we know ianthe is a duplicitous legend so I read it as ianthe lying to harrow lol
long story short, I was wondering if there was scenes in gtn, ntn, or post-realization htn that indicate harrow has had these reality problems pre-lobotomy? or if you know of a post analyzing it further? sorry to throw this at you, I just haven't seen any analysis of it but I saw your post so I was hoping you would have more info :) I really adore all of your tlt analysis posts!
Hi! Yeah, if you go into my '#harrow's schizophrenia' tag, I've made several posts about it, and other people have added on to a few of them with further elaboration.
But I don't think I've ever laid it out fully like a thesis. And I have several stressful things I should be doing right now, so I can't think of a better time to get into it.
When Harrow's brain is editing Gideon out, there's an effect a little like a record skip. Her memory snags on something, very briefly, and then quickly moves on. Or she'll make an assumption or say something that doesn't actually make sense without Gideon in the picture, but she won't notice. The most prominent example is the details in chapter 3 surrounding her opening of the Tomb:
Tumblr media
Just ellipsis "found out" ellipsis to skim over the very large part Gideon had to play in those events. If she were to interrogate the memory, it would be strange that she doesn't remember how her parents found out, but doing so would make her brain bleed. She would black out, and most likely forget what she was trying to remember.
And an example from the same chapter of a statement that doesn't make sense, unless you know about Gideon:
Tumblr media
Two things are important about these examples, the first being that they don't upset Harrow. She doesn't think they're strange, because she barely thinks about them, which was sort of the point of the lobotomy in the first place. The second is that they can be immediately explained by plugging Gideon into the Gideon-shaped hole in Harrow's memory. If you know about Gideon, and what Harrow's done, there's no mystery remaining.
In contrast, there are other details in chapter 3 about Harrow's childhood that Harrow did, and does, find strange and upsetting.
Tumblr media
Gideon didn't attend services, and she most definitely didn't participate in chants. Putting Gideon back in the picture does nothing to explain the "weird, thuddering beat" Harrow finds disruptive. But it does sound an awful lot like an auditory hallucination, as does hearing doors open and close where no doors were opening and closing.
Maybe we could try to explain the doors by supposing she was hearing Gideon coming and going without remembering the source, but that doesn't really track with how we know her mind processes the missing pieces. If Harrow were papering Gideon over in her memory, it wouldn't be important who was or wasn't opening doors and where. The focus of her memory would quickly shift, just like it did when trying to remember how her parents found out about the Tomb, in order to avoid looking at what she's hidden from herself.
Then there's the next paragraph:
Tumblr media
Again, plugging Gideon into this memory does nothing to explain it. Even if Gideon had been in the habit of sneaking up behind Harrow and attempting to choke her out—which, yikes—Harrow has already seamlessly blocked out the memory of one attempted strangulation. Then there are the phantom ropes she sees, her parents' method of suicide haunting her.
The forgetting where she was, losing time, and false memories do seem at first glance like they could be explained by the lobotomy, seeing as that is sort of the whole purpose and effect. But I'm pretty sure even these are real memories. Again, because of the focus of her attention. She's remembering having forgotten, while the lobotomy make her forget to remember.
Then there's Harrow's overall behavior. Her reactions to her hallucinations, especially in the River bubble, which imply that not all of this is new to her. She isn't shocked, or caught off-guard. She has coping mechanisms. She's figured out what evidence she can probably rely on to rule out hallucinations, and what's more likely to be suspect. A lobotomy, even a necromantic lobotomy, doesn't come with built-in tools for coping with its effects. Her memory of her past without Gideon in it is fractured and incomplete, not an entirely new life story with new life lessons.
Finally, from Nona the Ninth, some evidence that Harrow's problems with reality definitely predate the lobotomy:
Crux remembers them.
Tumblr media
417 notes · View notes
vhstown · 3 months
Text
hobie brown ★ general headcanons
Tumblr media
content/warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of violence, implied abandonment (?), depictions of fictional dystopian govt + police
a/n: it's about time innit 😭😭😭 a couple little thoughts about the guy that has taken over my brain for the past 6 months give it up for spider punk ‼️ very much inspired by @qiupachups's hcs go check em out here
Hobie tends to code-switch a lot depending on who he's around. At the Spider-society, he tones his accent down so people can understand him, but speaks in his natural accent around the mandem & people he likes (e.g. Miles 😁) He's the menace EVER though so he dials the Cockney up to 100 when he's fighting cops outside of the East End because they don't understand it 💀
Even though his handwriting is... atrocious, it's actually because he's picked up the style of ransom notes. In his universe, any sort of communication can be intercepted, so it's better that he can't be identified by his handwriting. That's why it's always changing, and he's half-decent at forgery too.
Speaking of writing, he can do a bunch of pen tricks. It's almost annoying how good he is at it, and if you were to ask him how, he'd just shrug. He's just that guy, you know?
His universe's Aunt May is a lovely lady from the West Indies and she runs F.E.A.S.T in Camden. They're not actually related, but he'll always see her as his aunt. She definitely helped him out after a rough patch in his life, and he volunteers often at the shelter. Everyone there has just accepted the 7ft punk walking around a couple days a week giving out breakfast and coffee.
Hobie is also bizarrely resourceful. He has a LOT of plants in his boat, and some of them grow vegetables! He knows all about gardening and makes the best preserves and soups. It's a good time to be at F.E.A.S.T when Hobie comes in with his little cloth bag full of veggie goodness.
About the rest of his family, Hobie's parents... He doesn't even know who they are himself, to be honest — not like he wants to. However, he does have siblings and a few close cousins. They're all separated, but Hobie does his best to find them. He's the oldest of them all (so far, at least?) and though they don't see him much like a brother at first, he makes sure they're taken care of, regardless of how much younger they are than him. They're always running around F.E.A.S.T, so on the days where Hobie isn't there, he can be sure that Aunt May has a few little helpers (though they're quickly growing taller than her...)
Good with animals. Even the ones that seem a bit rabid warm up to him after a little while. He knows when to leave them alone, when to give them attention, what to feed them, etc. That's why it's not unusual to see them following him around, and a bunch of kittens at his feet eating while he eats his own lunch.
Not actually a big drinker. I like to think he only has a couple of drinks or is just an insane heavyweight because there's no way he's gonna be dismantling the dictatorship if he's piss drunk. There's been a couple times where he's knackered after a night out, though. Just another reason to hate mornings, it looks like.
Most of the stickers on his guitar are from different shows and rallies he's been to, and/or organised, but only a few out of the hundreds he's been to (there's only so much space on a guitar, after all.) It's almost like a little look through his life since he joined the punk scene. Besides, who wouldn't want to beat your local government-made villain over the head with a picture of a cartoon dog?
Absolutely, utterly, undeniably terrible at singing — or is he? Not exactly. He can hum just fine, so singing should be a piece of cake, right? He's alright at a few songs, but "happy birthday" isn't exactly something you'd be performing at the Royal Opera House (he does anyway, but that's a story for another day. Fisk's 56th birthday goes just swimmingly with Spider-Punk on the front of the news.)
Despite that, he's not particularly fond of being known as "Spider-Punk". His Spider identity isn't really meant to be identified, despite how loud his whole get-up is. He's got a lot of people depending on him, and he's careful to never leave a trace of his real identity. That also means, however, that pretty much every punk in the area has a target on their back — let's just say Hobie's got a little "BEATING UP BLUE BOTTLES 101" on a Saturday morning for all his punk friends.
Since the government's got little recording devices and cameras everywhere, Hobie's taken it upon himself to... "borrow" them. He's got a couple mates good with tech, so he's on the scene pretty fast with his own crime-tracking network — pretty sick.
In fact, Hobie's friends (in his universe and others) are pretty useful for more than a few things. For pretty much every situation, he "knows a guy", whether that's related to tech, music, clothing, art, putting together a bunch of random stolen parts to make a dimension watch...
iN CAse
it dON'T
WoRK ouT
— HoBie
🎸💫🕸️
@phoenixinthefiles (since i alr tagged chewy lol)
hey hey hi these r a bit shorter than usual but i just wanted to put these little thoughts out there ^^ might make a part 2 if i have any more thoughts idk we'll see!
rbs super appreciated have a good day and check out my atsv masterlist here!
222 notes · View notes
drmaddict · 2 months
Text
Spooky Girl
Summary: Ghost, Soap, Rudy and König have a girlfriend who just likes things, that are a bit spooky. (Just a few little scenes that my brain spit out.)
Wordcount: 2.497
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Ghost
"Are you growing your hair out, L.T.?" Johnny laughed and flicked Simon's wrist.
Simon reacted as expected. Not at all. He stared at Johnny motionlessly.
"Fits the look, after all.", the sergeant winked at him.
Simon rolled his eyes and pulled his sleeve over the hairband on his wrist.
Johnny continued to grin. "My sisters say these scrunchies are best for the hair. There's less friction. So no split ends."
 Simon continued to stare at him.
"Are you going to tell me why you've got that thing on?", he grumbled.
"No.", was Simon's simple answer before he turned back to his food. It was nobody's business. (Y/n) was nobody's business, or what was between them.  It was still too fresh anyway. This was his first mission since they had met. He wasn't sure what to make of this relationship yet. He liked her. It wasn't because of that. He was just too used to being alone. It scared him. His therapist would probably have found a bigger, more important-sounding word for his emotions, but fear seemed appropriate enough to Simon.
She was weird. He was weird too. He had started to like the weirdness. He was probably too old for her. Maybe he wasn't. He'd never been in a relationship. He'd never had to discuss the fact that his hoodies were actually HIS hoodies until a few months ago. She had only told him that they were hers now, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. But she looked really cute in them. She'd beamed at him when he'd unceremoniously thrown three of his hoodies on her bed. 
"Until I get back.", he'd mumbled.
She had then pulled her hairband off her head and put it around his wrist. The black satin with the little skulls on it was soft and had immediately clung to his skin.
"So that you'll really come back.", she had said and kissed him on the forehead.
"Always.", he had mumbled.
 "Who is she?" Johnny asked him directly. He looked at him with gentle playfulness.
Simon snapped out of his memory. He looked into his friend's blue eyes.  "You don't trust me with a 'he'?", he grinned under his mask.
"Well then HE definitely has long hair."
Simon shook his head in amusement. "A little one from home. It's still fresh."
"Photo?", Johnny continued to grin.
Simon shook his head.
"Oh come on!"
"No Johnny."
Johnny looked at him like a petulant puppy. "At least describe her.", he sulked.
Simon sighed and rummaged for a small photo in his pocket. The boy wouldn't stop anyway. He plonked it in front of the sergent and stared at it.
Johnny stared at the photo. "A goth chick?" Johnny reached for the photo, but Simon immediately pulled it back to him and put it away. Johnny looked at him in surprise. "Hot.", he grinned.
Simon just grumbled.
"Yes, I get it. I can see it. You fit together."
Another grumble.
 Johnny grinned like an idiot.
"What?", Simon snapped at him.
"Does she have a friend?"
Simon just rolled his eyes. His cell phone buzzed.
A message from (Y/n). When he opened the message history, he saw a picture of a rabbit skull.
'For your collection?' it said underneath.
Simon looked at the picture. He had been glad, that she didn't see his little hobby as disgusting. But that she was now also participating in it. It was a beautiful bone. Completely intact.
'Beautiful. Where did you get it?‘
'Judas picked it up on our walk.‘
Judas was her dog. A stubborn but tough creature. It was probably her type. 
'Put it on the ant farm. I'll bleach him when I come back next week.‘
'The three of us are waiting for you. ;)'
When he looked up again, Johnny was still grinning at him.
"The little one really has you wrapped around her finger."
Simon just raised an eyebrow.
"Good for you L.T."
Simon grumbled in agreement.
Tumblr media
Soap
"What magazine did you cut that out of?" Kyle laughed.
Soap pulled off his boots. "Huh?" he groaned and looked at his friend.
Kyle pointed to Johnny's locker page and the photo hanging in it.
Johnny followed Kyle's suggestion with his gaze and immediately furrowed his eyebrows. "That's my girlfriend you douche!"
"That's never your girlfriend! She's far too pretty... Apart from the fetish make-up."
Johnny threw his boot at Gaz. "Don't talk about my girl like that!", he growled.
Gaz raised his hands defensively. A grin stretched across his face. "Oh come on."
Johnny continued to scowl at him. Simon came into the changing room and looked at them both wordlessly. Without another comment, he went to his locker.
"How can you always train with that thing on your head?", Johnny asked him.
"Habit.", came the curt reply.
Johnny rolled his eyes as Gaz clapped his hands with a laugh. "So you've got a type!"
Johnny looked at him in confusion. Simon paid him no attention at all. 
"Dark and intimidating," Garrick winked at him and nodded towards Simon.
Johnny followed his gaze and a blush immediately appeared on his cheeks.
"I don't have a type!", he barked.
Gaz chuckled in amusement. "Sure."
Simon slammed his locker shut conspicuously loudly and disappeared just as wordlessly as he had come.
The two of them looked after him.
"She's very different from him.", Johnny grumbled immediately.
"Is she?"
"Yes, she's very reserved, but when you get to know her better, she's really funny. She likes to tell jokes, you know? Even if she's more into dark humor. And she likes her order, but accepts my chaos and she's not immediately put off by my job. Well, she goes to therapy, but she's actually really tough."
"Where did you two meet?"
"At a shooting range for my brother-in-law's stag party. She's really amazing. She could almost be a sniper and..." Johnny eyes widened.
Gaz grinned knowingly.
"Oh God! I'm dating L.T.!" Johnny exclaimed, overwhelmed.
"Really, how did you notice?"
Johnny threw his second boot at him. "What if I'm just trying to replace something with her?", he asked anxiously.
Now Gaz looked at him, confused. "What now?"
"Well... What if I subconsciously just saw her as a replacement. God I'm such an asshole."
"How many times did you try to enroll before you were finally eighteen?", Gaz asked him firmly.
"I stopped counting. What's that got to do with it?"
Gaz shrugged his shoulders. "You're nuts, but you know what you want. You've never accepted an alternative before."
Johnny looked at the photo in the locker. "No I never have."
Gaz nodded. "You clearly have a thing for mentally unstable Halloween decorations, but that doesn't mean you only want the girl as a substitute."
Johnny nodded. "Yeah, you're right. She's really great, you know?"
Gaz grinned. "I'll take your word for it."
"She always makes chocolate muffins, that look like the little coal men from Chihiro.", Johnny smiled at the photo. "And she can cook! I really put some weight on the last time, I was with her. It's almost like the good old times at grandmas.", he grinned to himself. "Even if it scares me a little, how relaxed she is with the house ghost."
"Please what??" Gaz blinked at him in surprise.
"The house ghost. She calls him Edgar. After the guy who built the house. She bought this old victorian house and at night you can always hear the back door banging open and shut and someone running up and down the stairs. But never up to the top floor. That was  built on later. I nearly wet my pants the first night, when I went to see what was going on and this gigantic mirror fell on me. The thing was secured with six sturdy wall anchors! SIX! Well, I didn't set foot in the house for two weeks after that, but she says she's negotiating a deal."
Gaz looked at him with horror in his eyes.
Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "I'm used to it by now. But the noise is a bit annoying."
Gaz gave him a forced smile. "You see. You don't have anything like that with Ghost... No ghosts with Ghost."
Tumblr media
Rudy
He was sitting in his small kitchen with Alejandro, listening to everything about Ale's last date, until they were interrupted by a loud noise.
Ale flinched in surprise and looked at the kitchen counter behind him. Rudy immediately ran to the counter and grabbed a cell phone. He wiped the green icon across the display and held it to his ear.
"(Y/n)s phone. Rodolfo on the line. - Yes, you forgot it here. - No, no problem. - Good. See you in a minute."
He placed the device on the kitchen table and looked into Alejandro's shocked face. "What? Was? That?"
"(Y/n) left her cell phone."
Ale looked at him like he was stupid. "What was that sound?"
"Her ringtone?" Rudy replied hesitantly. "Yeah... Her taste in music is a bit...  special," he admitted, looking at the device again.
"A bit? It sounded like a pig had been tormented.", Alejandro said indignantly.
Rudy grinned. "Somehow that relaxes her." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I think the band was called... I can't remember. Lorna something."
Ale looked at him skeptically. "Wait. Is she coming over? I can finally see the mystery (y/n) with my own eyes?"
Rudy sighed. "Be nice, please."
"I'm always nice."
"Hmph."
Ale gave him an annoyed look. "I'll pull myself together."
"No subliminal threats.", Rudy stated firmly.
Alejandro started to speak, but didn't get the chance.
"And certainly no direct ones!"
The colonel fell back against the back of his chair, annoyed. It wasn't as if he had no manners. If anything, some even found his temperament attractive.
"Fine," he grumbled.
Rudy nodded in satisfaction as he heard the front door open.
"Hey." (Y/n) called down the small hallway.
Rudy stood up and walked towards her.
Alejandro didn't know what he had expected, but somehow he had always imagined her... pinker.
When Rudy spoke of his girlfriend, it sounded like he was talking about the sweetest creature on earth, who couldn't hurt a soul. Alejandro had envisioned a girl in a summer dress with pink lipgloss kissing Rudy on the cheek.
What he saw was a girl dressed in black. Transparent cut-outs, heavy boots and various buckles adorned her body.
Her lips, which Alejandro had always imagined to be pink, were painted black, just like her eyes.
She gave Rudy a quick kiss on the lips. "Sorry, I'm only here for a moment. Sofia got tickets for a concert today. I'd rather not ask how. Oh hi!"
She waved to Alejandro.
"This is Alejandro." Rudy introduced him.
He waved at (Y/n), overwhelmed.
"I'm (Y/n)." she replied quickly.
"You sure?" asked Ale before he could stop himself.
Rudy immediately gave him a warning look before turning back to (Y/n). "Be careful."
She kissed him again on the tip of his nose. "I'll text you when I get home. Bey Alejandro!" she called out and was already gone again.
Alejandro looked dully into the hallway. Rudy looked back with a raised eyebrow.
"Well I didn't expect THAT.", Alejandro said.
Rudy sighed.
"Oh come on! You described a lamb!" He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "Not a little vampire. No matter how cute she seems to be."
Rudy sighed devotedly and sat down at the table.
"She's just like I told you."
"So... a black lamb?"
The corners of Rudy's mouth twitched. "Yes. That fits."
"To get back to the, let's call it 'music'."
"I don't get it either.", Rudy smiled with amusement.
Tumblr media
König
"Little bat?" König asked his girlfriend cautiously. She was sitting in one of his shirts next to his legs in front of the couch, looking thoughtfully at her puzzle, while the movie of her choice was playing on TV.
"Yes Bear?" she asked without looking up.
His eyes darted to the television at a particularly organic sound, before quickly settling back on her.
"Um... I know I said 'My job is war and I can take more than nornal humans'."
(Y/n) looked up and grinned mockingly.
"But I admit that your warning was probably... justified."
She grinned at him openly. "No (y/n)! I've seen and done things-"
"All right!" he interrupted her. A woman on the television screamed. "Is this girl still alive?" he asked in disgust.
(Y/n) pressed a button on the remote control and the movie stopped.
"There's no way anyone could survive something like that," he huffed.
His little bat just took a sip of his coffee. "The lore is, that Art keeps someone alive ,until he's satisfied. He decides when you die."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"It's horror. It's not supposed to make sense." She patted his gigantic thigh. "You held out very well, but you dropped out of the movie. You lost the bet. You have to order today.", she smiled mischievously.
He grumbled and reached for the tablet.
"No! You have to call! That was the bet."
He looked murderously at the phone. He hated ordering food. Which made no sense, considering his job and his career in it. He was a grown man. He made most people afraid, but still. These everyday situations weren't exactly easy for him. It wasn't like it used to be, but it would never be normal either. Nobody had to like him in his job. No one expected him to be polite. In the real world, there were all these rules and unspoken regulations.
"Like always?" he asked her. She just nodded and went back to looking at her puzzle.
Sometimes it was funny. They both weren't the most confident when it came to social interaction, even though the world always thought they should be. Him because of his body. Her because of her look.
They had started making bets. The loser had to make phone calls or tell the waiter in the restaurant that the food was going back.
He ordered the pizza and felt (Y/n) put a hand on his knee. He had started wiggling his legs again. A habit that had always upset his mother. She stroked his knee with her thumb and he brought his limbs back to rest. With a sigh, he tossed the cell phone towards the pillow. It was nice that he didn't feel any anxiety with her. It was nice to have someone who gave him the space to find peace.
"What kind of picture is this going to be?", he asked her, stroking her hair and looking at the dark puzzle.
"Blackness."
"Blackness?"
"Yes. It's just black." She grinned.
"Why?"
"Because we as humans like to play God. The nice thing is... There's a reference picture."
He grinned. He loved how she was amused by little things like that. He loved his little bat. Her and her bloody pointless puzzle.
181 notes · View notes
5starluvr · 12 days
Text
Guys my age [1.kisses to my ex’s]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Paring:Bang Chan x reader ,Lee Felix x reader
Genre:fluff,crack,angst,smut
Warnings:mentioned drinking,cursing,cheating
Previous | masterlist | next
Tumblr media
Her tears traced stained tracks down her cheeks, blurring the idyllic scene before her. Candlelight, once a warm embrace, now flickered accusingly, casting dark shadows on the wall.Yeonjun’s voice, usually a sweet melody now sounds like someone screeching on a board , each word a fresh shard of betrayal. The phone, clutched white-knuckled in her hand, displayed the undeniable evidence – a picture of him , entwined with another girl in a club.
The air grew thick, a suffocating weight pressing down on her chest. The melody, a love song he claimed to have written for her, became a twisted mockery, each note a searing reminder of his lies. A strangled sob escaped her lips, shattering the fragile illusion of their perfect night.
Mark's gaze flicked up, finally catching hers. The playful smile he'd worn for the "performance" faltered for a fleeting moment before morphing into a practiced mask of concern. "Hey, babe," he cooed, completely missing the storm brewing in her eyes.
"No," she rasped, her voice a broken whisper. The word ripped from her throat, raw and primal. "Don't touch me."
Confusion flickered across his face, quickly morphing into a sneer as she showed him the video’s and pictures . "Don't be dramatic,babe," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "It's just a picture."
The casual dismissal sent a fresh wave of anger crashing over her. "Don't you dare minimize this!" she exclaimed , her voice surprisingly strong despite the tremor in her hands. "This picture says it all!"
He leaned back, a smug smile twisting his lips. "Says what, exactly? That I know how to have a good time with friends? You're the one who's always so uptight,y/n. Maybe you should loosen up a little."
"Friends?" she shrieked, shoving the phone with the picture in his face. "This doesn't look like friendly to me!"
Yeonjun scoffed. "Come on, it's just a kiss. It doesn't mean anything."
"A kiss?" Her voice cracked with disbelief. "You were making out and had your hands all over her! Don't you try to gaslight me, Yeonjun! I'm not stupid!"
He scoffed again, the sound laced with irritation. "Gaslight? You're the one blowing this whole thing out of proportion. You need to trust me more,y/n ."
"Trust you?" Her voice rose. "How can I trust you after this? All those late nights you claimed were 'practice'? All those vague excuses? Don't you think I noticed?"
His face flushed a deep crimson. "That's different," he snapped. "This group is about to take off, and I can't afford to miss practices. You wouldn't understand."
"Oh, I understand perfectly!"She spat back, tears blurring her vision. "I understand that your ‚group' is more important to you than our relationship!AND that you’re allowed to just make out with other fucking girls!"
He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Here we go again. You always make everything about you!"
The that’s the final snap. With a final, heart-wrenching sob, she stumbled towards the door, her silhouette disappearing into the cool embrace of the night.„FUCK YOU“ she yelled.
————
The city lights blurred into streaks of shimmering pain as she stumbled out of the building . Tears, hot and angry, streamed down her face, blurring the world into a watercolor mess. Reaching her apartment, she fumbled with the keys, the door slamming open with a bang that echoed through the hall.
Collapsing onto the couch, she grabbed her phone, the incriminating picture burning into her brain . A choked sob escaped her lips, and with trembling fingers, she dialed her friends number.
"Hey, you okay?" Nari’s voice, usually laced with playful banter, held a note of concern that sliced through her defenses.
A tornado of words spilled out, a broken narrative punctuated by hiccups and shaky breaths.Nari listened patiently, the silence on the other end a comforting presence. When she finally finished, a pregnant pause hung in the air.
Then, Nari’s voice boomed through the phone, a stark contrast to her own despair. "Absolutely not! You listen here, beautiful. Pretty girls don't cry over ugly boys, especially ones who cheat. Plus, honey, trust me, he was broke anyway. What kind of future is that?"
A choked laugh escaped the younger, a flicker of defiance replacing the despair in her voice. "Broke? Seriously?"
"Seriously," Nari confirmed. "Now, listen up. Shower. Put on a dress. Club.We are going to go out and be pretty girls because I am NOT going to let a ughly guy like that make you that upset!. Operation Distraction is a go. We're going out tonight, and you're going to forget all about him."
The idea of going out made her want to just curl up and cry, but Nari , with her blunt honesty had a way of cutting through the fog. Maybe, just maybe, a night of loud music and getting shit faced was what she needed . Maybe, just maybe, the thunderous beat of the club could drown out the deafening silence of a broken heart.
With a ragged breath that echoed the devastation within her,she rose from the couch.
——-
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes no longer red-rimmed and puffy, looking at herself in the black dress she'd pulled on. It clung to her in a way that would make her boyfriend,well ex-bf mad.
The traitorous tears welled up again, threatening to ruin the carefully constructed facade. She squeezed her eyes shut, picturing her friends voice, blunt and fierce: "Pretty girls don't cry over ugly boys." Taking a deep breath, she forced a defiant smile. Tonight wasn't about him, it was about her enjoying herself .
The drive to the club felt like a blur. The city lights, usually twinkling with a festive charm, seemed cold and indifferent. Reaching the familiar throb of bass and the flashing neon signs of the oh so famous club RED LIGHTS,Nari and her parked as steeled herself. This wasn't her usual scene – she preferred staying at home or going out with a select group of people. But tonight, she was desperate for a distraction, a way to drown out the deafening silence of her broken relationship.
————
"Remember last time we drank on new year and I crawled under a table to eat grapes !"
Y/n couldn't help but crack a real smile this time. Relief and a surge of gratitude washed over her. Her friend was a lifesaver. Before could even respond, Nari was out of the car, grabbing her arm and pulling her in.
"Whoa!" Y/n exclaimed, stumbling slightly in the black heels she bought a few months ago. "Careful there, you crazy woman!"
Nari surveyed her with a predatory glint in her eyes. "Damn, girl, you look incredible!Black makes you look sexy!." She leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "You know, if we weren't best friends, I'd totally let you hit it tonight."
Y/nchoked back a laugh, a genuine one this time. "Seriously,girl? That's your plan? Distract me with bad pick-up lines?"
Nari winked. "Hey, it might work! Besides, tonight's all about having fun and forgetting about that jerk. We're gonna dance like nobody's watching, sing along like we know the words, and maybe even find ourselves a hot distraction or two. Operation Distraction is a go!"
Y/n, despite the lingering ache in her heart, felt a spark of excitement ignite within her. Maybe she was right. Maybe tonight wasn't about forgetting, but about remembering who she was – a strong, independent woman who didn't need a cheating boyfriend to feel beautiful or worthy.
————
Taglist 11/50: @readr1221 @ihrtlix @korthbum @itzbangchan333 @ihavetoomanyaesthetics @bakedlilgoonie @ihave0hearts4me @rylea08 @chxnb97 @hyunjinloverrrr @angelicg1rl
Taglist open just dm me!
129 notes · View notes
myteavsricochet · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Favorite firstprince fanfics, another incomplete list:
(Part 1)
Come Let Me Love You
Henry always struggled to have a good night's sleep. Alex made it easier over the years they had been together, but little cries in the middle of the night always woke Henry.
A little glimpse into a future where Alex and Henry are doting fathers to a beautiful little girl.
Obliviously Devoted
She looks at him in the way only June can. She's the only one he'll allow it from without a fight. "I don't know if you're ready to have this conversation or not."
His fork clatters to the plate in front of him. "What is that supposed to mean?"
June sighs a sigh of long-suffering and pinches the bridge of her nose, before she looks him dead in the eye and sets his world upside down. "You know you and Henry are dating, right?"
Alex gapes at her. Mouth hung open, eyes blown wide. "W-what?"
"I say this with all the love in the world," she says. "But sometimes, I swear, you are the most oblivious idiot on the face of the planet."
Tags: idiots in love, oblivious acd, best friends to lovers, alternate universe - roommates/housemates
(even though you want to) please try to never grow up
“You better have a good fucking reason for sending me to voicemail, Hen.” He glares at the phone for one second before he actually sees the screen, and then his face melts into something Henry can only describe as fond. “Oh,” he whispers, dropping his mug of coffee onto the counter so he can lean in closer to the phone. “Look who’s there.”
“Yeah.” Henry keeps his voice so low he isn’t even sure Alex can hear him. He doesn’t seem to mind, eyes taking in the picture in front of him with parted lips, the edge of his finger covering the camera when he undoubtedly reaches to caress his daughter’s head.
Or, Alex misses his daughter when he goes back to work after a long paternity leave.
tags: domestic, tooth-rotting fluff, family fic
Let Me Wash Away Your Worries
Alex has had a terrible week. Henry is right there to take care of him.
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Bath Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Romantic Fluff, Praise Kink, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Worship
ephemeral enchantments
in which Henry is an overworked barista with a tendency to embarrass himself in front of everything that breaths and Alex is charmed from the first time he met him.
Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Awkward Flirting
Three fights Alex and Henry never had
Yes, Alex and Henry got their Happily Ever After. But that doesn't mean everything was just automatically perfect when they moved in together...
Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff
am i homophobic? (URGENT) (PLEASE HELP)
Now, it might be pretty early in the morning and Alex’s brain functions might not be working as quickly as they normally do, but he can still put two and two together. There's a strange man in their kitchen. Henry is shirtless, rumpled, and holding two pairs of boxers. Henry and this Sam guy slept together. Which… obviously is fine because Alex is not an asshole, but he’s definitely feeling something about this development that he will examine at a later date. But of course, instead of saying something normal, you know, like a normal person would, he says, “Ohh.” Like a fucking weirdo.
or: the "am i homophobic?" roommate au that no one asked for
Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Sexuality Crisis, Mentions of homophobia, no one is like actually homophobic though, Idiots in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Unsafe Sex
The shape of your lips bruising my heart
So, that neck-kissing scene in the bloopers? Yeah, that one. Well. I wrote it.
In which Alex has a hard time leaving the hotel after their night in Paris.
you’re leaving (now i’m left amongst the living)
Six years since they've been together, Alex and Henry were now a far cry from the lovestruck couple they once were when their history began. If you ask Alex, all of it was Henry’s fault. If you ask Henry, he’d agree and say that Alex was right.
But before Alex could ever find out why Henry does not seem like the man he once decided to spend the rest of his life with, he already walked away from it all. Now, Henry was alone, left to deal with whatever shattered remains he could salvage from his life.
Or, the one where Henry’s sick and Alex only finds out two years after they've broken up.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lawyer Alex, Writer Henry, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hospitalization
Fifty First Dates
Henry has used a dating app exactly one time. Predictably, the date turns out to be terrible. The bartender, however, is not.
OR
A cute stranger’s solution to Henry’s woeful dating life is to set him up on fifty first dates.
Most People Exist
Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz.
———
Henry is a nurse, Alex is a patient.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Cancer, Nurses & Nursing, Minor Character Death, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, They will end up happy I pinky swear
i want your dreary mondays
“You little menace,” a voice says from the door, entirely too fond to be anything mean. “I told you to wait by the car, not go inside.” The man steps inside, shaking the rain from his hair, and Henry is treated to the sight of the most beautiful man he’s seen in his entire life, standing in the middle of his shop with clothes dripping to the floor and raincoat bundled up around him. He notices then the umbrella clutched in the little boy’s hand, the innocent wide eyes watching his father, and the picture forms in his head.
Or, five times Henry makes a piece of art for Alex's son on his drinks, and one time he does it for Alex himself.
It's Nice to Have a Friend
Two boys meet on a beach, build a sand castle, write letters, and fall in love.
Tags: Alternative Universe - Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Slow Burn, Growing up together
Leave A Message
"This is Alex Claremont-Diaz's phone. If it's a business matter, I don't know how you got ahold of this number, but if you have my number that means you probably have Zahra's. Call her instead. If you're friends or family, just text me. If you're anyone else, I'll call you back as soon as I can."
Or: Alex's voicemail message over the years, and the messages people leave for him.
I must tell you what you will not ask
Henry's lower lip wobbles, and a fresh tear rolls down his cheek. Alex watches it track down to his chin, and wonders if Henry would mind him wiping it away. “I really was looking forward to seeing them.”
Another tear escapes, and this time Alex can't help but lean forward and brush it away with his thumb. Henry's breath catches, and he looks at Alex, wearing an expression he can't quite parse. “Come home with me,” Alex blurts out.
Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?
drive-thru mornings
“Would you like to pay cash or by card, sir?”
Alex startles, but recovers quickly and smiles charmingly at the girl in the window. Maggie, her tag reads. “By card, darlin’,” he says. “Actually, could I pay for the man behind me, as well? I have no idea what he ordered, but he’s strikingly handsome, isn’t he?”
Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in love
you turned a moment (into forever)
Sharing an apartment with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. They’re best friends, prices in Brooklyn are absurd, and they had both been in urgent need of residence – it only made sense.
Except for the small, tiny, teeny, barely there fact that Henry has been in love with Alex from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And the fact that Alex doesn’t know, and can never find out.
Or, as coffeecatsme so eloquently put it: Roommates AU where Alex has insomnia and slips into Henry’s bed every night because it’s the only way he gets a good night’s sleep.
You Can Hear It In The Silence
At the Lake House, Henry doesn’t run when Alex tells him he loves him. But he can’t say it back; too afraid of the consequences it would have, no matter how true it is. But as the truth settles in, Henry decides Alex is worth fighting for. So he does.
A Long Way From the Playground
Henry and Alex were best friends growing up until they went to separate colleges and they grew apart. When they see each other again as adults, against the odds, both living in the same city again, will it be a joyful reunion or will the pain of the years apart get in the way? How do you become friends again when there is so much of the past in the way?
Oblivion
The man starts to cock the hammer of gun, and Alex squeezes his eyes shut, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.
“Stop!” Henry shouts, his voice cracking. “I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll do anything…just please, don’t hurt him.”
Alex’s eyes fly open, shooting Henry the same incredulous look that he gave him in the hallway, and Henry knows he’s shown too much of his hand, revealed a part of himself that he’d sworn he would take to his grave, but he’s too full of fear and desperation to feel self-conscious about it now. He can deal with the consequences when they get out of this.
If they get out of this.
******
What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?
Confidential Memorandum
"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?"
"Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?"
Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult.
It was a little girl.
"Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?"
"Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter."
Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.
we thought we ruled the world
Alex stares down at his latest text from Henry. A link to an article he’s seen about ten versions of so far. He’s managed to resist clicking on any of them, but now Henry is sending it, so he supposes he should at least give it a skim.
How Prince Henry’s Relationship With FSOTUS Lost Ellen Claremont The Election
............
Or, what would have happened if Ellen lost.
Run, Don't Walk
Henry loves sex. He loved sex even before he was with Alex, although there's something to be said for the level of precision and intimacy acquired through years of learning each other's bodies. He's liked being filled from the first time he ever experienced the feeling, and he doesn't think he'll ever love anything quite as much as he loves getting fucked.
But this? This is giving him pause for thought.
Tags: Porn without plot, Marathon sex, Henry loves sex, and Alex, and sex with Alex
london bridge has fallen down
Alex can feel the eyes of the room on him as Shaan approaches his side. Then, Shaan quietly murmurs in his ear. They’re words he’s thought about before, distantly wondering about what might happen when they were finally uttered. How their lives might change. There’s nothing that can prepare him for the reality of it though, nothing that can prepare him for how his breath hitches when Shaan speaks.
‘London Bridge is down, Sir.’ 
---
Queen Mary is dead. Henry doesn't know how to feel.
Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy)
"You don't owe me anything."
"Of course I do. If you have time now...there are things I'd like to say."
Alex hesitates.
"I know I don't have any right to ask you to listen," Henry adds. He sounds so hopeful though.
A little closure doesn't sound like a terrible thing. Agreeing to go with Henry, alone, to Kensington Palace sounds like returning to the scene of a crime.
It's been over a decade since their breakup - Alex is now a single dad forging his career as a lawyer, and Henry's finally getting the courage to stand up to his grandmother. In finding themselves, can they also find their way back to each other?
235 notes · View notes
gogomatthew · 6 months
Text
You’re mine
KINKTOBER DAY 2: Mutual masturbation
PAIRING: SPENCER REID X READER
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST HERE🎃💗
warnings: stalking • mutual masturbation • semi public sex • humiliation • phone sex • paranoia? • mentions of violence • let me know if I missed any •
A/N: sorry about the KTOBER delay.. this ones a little dark but ill make up with a sweet one next week! reminder english isnt my first language but feel to correct any grammar mistakes
summary: Spencer fears he is being stalked after receiving gifts from a secret admirer only to fall for her • MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+
“Hey whats wrong?” Morgan stops Spencer as he rushes into the BAU frantic with an orange envelope at hand “Gather everyone in the conference room please” he gets out of morgans grip and makes his way there. “Whats this about?” Hotch walks in confused on the whole situation, raising a questioning eyebrow at Spencer “Ive been on edge the past month and yesterday I received this..” he hands the envelope to Hotch. Inside theres a handwritten letter with the words “I know you were thinking about me” and multiple photographs of Spencer jacking off in his room.
Truthfully he didn’t want to show anyone but this was getting out of hand. In the photograph his room was illuminated by warm toned lamp, his mouth hung open and anyone with half a brain could assume he was letting out sounds of pleasure, his head was thrown back and his eyes were shut tightly, while his hand wrapped around his leaking dick as he lazily sat on his desk chair with his trousers hanging around his ankles. Hotch’s eyes go wide for a second as he quickly puts the pictures away only making his subordinates blush grow a burning pink. The team share a few glances and connect the dots in an instant. “Morgan you have experience in obsession crimes.. what do you think this is?” Hotch asks after analyzing the letter he spoke up “Are these the only “gifts” you’ve gotten? any other notes we should know about?” morgan glances up at him making sure to put emphasis on the word “gifts”
“I-I mean theres always a lingering feeling im being watched and I got a bouquet of flowers last monday along with a letter every other day from a “secret admirer” but I didn’t think much of it.. I just assumed some neighborhood boy was playing a prank on me..” he says running his fingers through his silky brunette hair, clearly stressed out “looks like you’ve got a groupie” spencer looks back down to morgan “HUH?” morgan hands the letter back to spencer “The writing is clearly written by a female, its dainty and not aggressive.. almost as if to show her love and devotion to you instead of threatening you. That isnt to say she wont get violent later on.. it may trigger her to see you with another woman around her age maybe something set her off and decided to finally make her move.” hotch lets out a breath “Morgan, Reid, you stay here and find a motive, Prentiss and I will go to the scene and try to get more geographical information on how they even managed to take these photos.. wheels up in 30” and with that everyone’s getting to work.
They made a geographic profile, retraced steps, came up with a profile and even a plan on how to catch the unsub. “We think our unsub is a female in her mid 20s, if you were to cross her path shed blend right in, shes not very confident or careful but she is smart, if you bumped into her she’d apologize even if it wasnt her fault, she has an obsessive personality though she probably doesn’t even realize it odds are if she were to go through a psychotic break she would only go after Spencer or people close to him so we don’t have to worry about civilian safety” after notifying the local PD they develop a plan.. Emily was going to pretend to be Spencers girlfriend, holding hands on the subway, walking him home, spending time in his apartment ect, to get a rise out of the unsub, it was a long shot that youd even buy it if youve been stalking spencer but it was worth a try “you sure you got this?” she looks up at Hotch as he adjust her mic pack and silently nods as Spencer copies her movement.
That afternoon he and Emily walk out of the subway station hand in hand making their way to his apartment, god Spencer wasn’t lying.. Emily could feel eyes on her but couldn’t pin point where they came from but they managed to make goosebumps arise from her. That night there was no love letter at his door. This was either the start of a psychotic break or you backing down. Morgan was stationed at the location they assumed the photographs were taken, assuming you’d come back. Emily spent the night at spencers place and left during the early hours of the morning to make it all the more convincing. After she left Spencer did his morning routine like usual, a shower, setting the coffee pot, changing, grabbing his satchel and heading out but he was stopped by a piece of paper that was stuck between the front door and the frame, falling onto the ground. The note was different, it seemed messy and rushed. It read “Im still here” a shiver ran down his spine. His gut told him to just get on the subway and go to work and develop his highly intelligent team but his brain told him to take matters into his own hands. He stormed out of his building and made his way onto the sidewalk hoping to be able catch you before you got too far. He had the profile now all he needed to do was find you and he knew just how to do that. He stormed into the subway station proceeding to walk a little faster than usual. He felt eyes on him and immediately he turned around and met your eyes by sheer luck. He kept his eyes on you and you stayed frozen in place looking away from his gaze but not moving an inch.. could it be you? He knew morgan always trusted his gut and maybe it was time he did the same. As he started approaching you your eyes went wide and you sped walked away. You fit the profile, the only thing they didn’t mention was how attractive you were. He caught up to you quickly having the advantage of long legs “hey” he puts a hand on your shoulder giving you goosebumps “im meeting my girlfriend for coffee but I dont know which track to take.. do you think you could help me?” he give you a nice smile that you return but he notices your demeanor going cold at the word girlfriend.
“yeah totally! where are you meeting?” your fists are clenched at your sides, this was almost too easy “Virginia coffee house” he says simply “you’re gonna want to take the 53, it should get here in about 10 minutes.. that’s actually where im heading too” he smiles a little wider “I don’t suppose you mind waiting with me then?” you nod “not at all!…” you fidget with your fingers “actually im gonna go to the restroom” you turn to rush off with him hot on your heels, he wont forgive himself if he lets you get away.. he has to trust his gut when it’s screaming right at him he needs to know more. He follows you into the bathroom at the station which is thankfully empty and locks the door behind him “Spencer what are you doing?” you say and quickly realize your mistake as his expression falters “I never said my name was spencer..” your eyes widen as you start to back up into the sink “sorry I- my brains all scattered��� you try to play it off with a laugh but hes not laughing. He starts to get closer and closer to you as you continue to step back “heres what I think and feel free to correct me if im wrong, but just know ill know if you’re lying, I study human behavior for living but of course you already knew that” your backed up completely into the sink and have nowhere to run as he continues to get closer until he finally towers over you face inches apart “I think you’re my little groupie.. I think you watched me get off and took pictures to touch yourself too.. I think you leave love letters at my door.. I think you’re jealous of my fake girlfriend and I think..” he whisper the next words right into your ear “you’re desperate for me” he hates to admit it but some animalistic part of him just wants to take you right there in the bathroom and make you scream his name to humiliate you just as you did to him. You’d proudfully admit that his accusations made your panties soaking wet, having to squeeze your thighs together for any friction.
Just then a loud knock at the door interrupts you both breaking away “whys the door locked?” you hear through the door “you’re right” you say before speeding off and disappearing into the crowd as soon as the lady at the door gets it open. Spencer rushes out ignoring the strange looks he gets but ultimately looses you. He lets out an exasperated sigh and with that hes on his way to work.
Coming back to an empty apartment was never fun but he couldn’t shake his head off with what happened just a few hours prior in that bathroom. He starts palming himself through his trousers and groans wishing it was you. He unbuttons his jeans and pull out his dick, stroking it as it fill the room with the wet sounds of his precum smearing all over his shaft “fuck” he sits at his desk and there he sees you. You’re on the balcony of the building across the street. The complex next to the one morgan was previously situated at the day prior. Camara leaning next to you, phone in one hand as your other hand starts to glide down your abdomen between your thighs successfully getting a whimper out of Spencer.. hes never been this exposed. He hears his phone ring and you mouth at him to answer it and he obeys. You let out breathy whines as you start to circle your clit matching the pace of the hand wrapped around his dick. His eyes are open staring straight at you, he dosent want to miss a single second of this. His own morality not even bothering him anymore, not when he feels this good and has this view. “Fuck” He stands up from his seat and walk closer to the window, he starts to glide his hand faster even teasing himself by running his finger through his slit “mmm” he knows you can hear him but he cant hold back his sounds god hes never felt this good under his own touch, he thinks it’s pathetic he has to imagine its your even though you’re only a few feet away. “faster” he demands. His ty is loosened but his shirt is still on and how you wish you could just see all of him, you insert 2 fingers into yourself struggling because theyre not long enough to give you as much pleasure as you need, you lean over the edge and hold on to the railing of the balcony giving spencer a better peek at your tits “you’re fucking c- crazy” he says with heavy pants inbetween every word “me? im not the one stroking my dick to my “stalker” god you hated that word but you heard him refer to you as that before, he lets out a deep growl “yeah well im not the stalker” the call is filled with whines and moans from both ends, you start nearing your climax “im gonna- hah-“ your words are cut off by your loud whimpers “aww cmon baby- you can write someone whos never even seen you heartfelt love letters but cant- ah finish- mm your own sentence” hes teasing but in reality hes in the same position as you “fuck- you” his open mouth turns into a smirk “bet youd like that” thats it, something in you snaps and your practically screaming and writhing in place as Spencer delivers his final pumps to his cock before he’s leaking cum onto his own chest with heavy whines as he tries to catch his breath with his eyes closed.
When he finally opens them to see you shock is evident in his face when you’re already gone and the line is left ringing. He buttons his pants and runs to his front door trying to catch you but instead his eyes land on another envelope. He opens it expecting it to be another love letter and pictures of him jacking it only to be met with photographs of YOU touching yourself, your mouth dropped open, hand on your pussy, only showing the bottom half of your face, the note attached reads “you have my phone number now.. id appreciate going on a date with you before you turn me in - your dearest Y/N” god this was going to be fun.
242 notes · View notes
babyjakes · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
darling dangers.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
Tumblr media
event | kinktober 2022
prompt | vibrator
pairings | mean!dark!best friend!ransom drysdale and soft!dark!best friend!jake jensen x innocent!reader
warnings | non/dub-con (reader is reluctant and resistant.) ran and jake are absolutely taking advantage of reader. ran is an asshole, jake is a little better. heavy humiliation, babying, dumbification, mocking and degradation. crying kink. ransom holds reader down. pussy slapping. forced fingering and use of vibrator. heavy clit focus. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. jake is doing most of the work, ransom's just there to be mean lol.
word count | 2,312
Tumblr media
an | um oh my godddddd, ,,, this idea has been swirling around in my brain for so long and finally, finally i get to bring it to fruition >:-)) welcome to kinktober, whores <333 also sorry if this one feels awkward or rusty? i've been writing whump for the past month so getting back into the filth felt a little clumsy :-((
Tumblr media
As soon as you see the small black box sitting out in the open on the counter between your two best friends, both of their faces drawn in expectant expressions as they stand just waiting for you to walk in on the perfect scene they've orchestrated- you know you're in deep, deep trouble.
Ransom's crossing his arms, a small smirk forming on his face when he sees how wide your eyes have gone. Jake's giving off more disappointment than amusement, which honestly hits deeper than the twisted pleasure his counterpart's apparently finding in the whole ordeal. Gulping as you take a step forward into the kitchen, your voice betrays you by trembling as you dare to speak up. "R-Ran? Jakey? What's going on?"
"You know, it's funny, princess. We've been wondering the same thing," Ransom jests as he places a steady hand on the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as he pauses to glance at the blonde standing beside him. "Right, J? We never would've imagined our precious little angel- our sweet, innocent y/n- turning out to be such a whore."
Tears prickle in your eyes at the remark; bottom lip puffing out slightly in a pathetic frown, you shake your head in defense. "N-no, don't say that. S'not true."
"Aww, look at her, Jake. Think she's gonna cry already. Go on then, sweetheart. Know you can't help it, you've always been such a sensitive little thing."
Brow stiffening in anger, you glare at the brown-haired boy. "Stop it," you whisper through your hurt and confusion. Why are they doing this to you? They're your best friends, your Ran and Jakey. What would ever drive them to humiliate you like this? You would've never seen it coming. "Wh-why were you going through my mail, anyway? You have no right."
"Well, it helped that we were expecting the package," Jake finally breaks his silence, letting out a small sigh as he crosses his own arms. "An email popped up about your order status while I was helping you fix your phone last week. Couldn't believe it, our sweet y/n, ordering from a site like that. But it looks like there was no mistake here." Turning slightly, he reaches out to pick up the little box with a single hand. Eyeing the picture on the lid, his disappointment only seems to grow as he looks back at you, "Buggy, d'you even know what these are made for? You have no business buyin' something like this; you're much too little, y/n."
Cheeks burning at your friend's patronizing words, your eyes narrow further. "Of course I know what they're made for, Jake. I... I'm not stupid, I'm a big girl. I can order whatever the hell I want," you shot back.
At that, Ransom chuckles as Jake can only manage to shake his head in further disappointment. "A big girl, huh? We'll see about that, babycakes."
Tumblr media
Everything happens so fast, you're barely able to process it. Before you know it, the pair have whisked you away to your bedroom, Ransom laughing cruelly as he carries you over his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, they have you surrounded on the plush duvet of your queen-sized bed, the brunette coming up behind you to trap you in his arms. As he leans back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed, he brings you with him, pressing your back up against his broad chest as you squirm in haste. Jake approaches the two of you on his knees, the box with your new toy still clasped in his hand. Writhing a bit as Ransom tightens his grip on you, you finally find your voice. "What the fuck-? Let go of me, let me go! What are you doing? This is-"
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Jake tells you sadly as your other friend eventually gets a good enough hold on you to overpower your resistance. "This is for your own good, y/n. You need'ta learn not to mess around with these things. It's not safe for a little girl like you."
"Learn? What do you mean?" you cry as Ransom's large hands come up to pry your knees apart, using his own strong legs to hold you open. As soon as you feel the cool air of the apartment hitting the thin layer of fabric covering your delicate mound, you freeze. Peering down with wide eyes, you see that your little tennis skirt has flipped up in the most unfortunate of ways, leaving your lacy pink panties on full display for everyone in the room's viewing pleasure. Heart pounding heavily in your chest, you clear your throat.
"R-Ran, Jakey... please..."
"We're not gonna hurt you, baby. Just gonna show you how dangerous these things can be, that's all. You're safe," Jake hums as he lays down on his tummy before you, scooting up between your widespread legs to come almost face-to-face with your now quivering core.
"Pink lace," Ransom snorts from behind you as his hands rest greedily on your inner thighs. "She really is a little slut, isn't she, J?"
Tears pool in your eyes as your cheeks burn in embarrassment. "P-please, please don't look," you beg, your tears earning a sympathetic frown from the blonde beneath you as he reaches out to run a tender hand over the lace of your panties.
"We're gonna be doin' a whole lot more than lookin', sweet thing," he admits as his fingers press against your dampness. "And would you look at that, someone's already gettin' wet." Squeezing out a few more tears as the man prods at your thinly-covered heat, you can only whimper in response.
"Doesn't surprise me. Bet she likes us being all rough, holding her down and spreading her open. You like that, sweetheart?" Ransom teases as he brings a hand up to cup one of your breasts over the flimsy yellow tank top you're wearing. "Never wears a bra around us, either. She's just asking to be played with." At the feeling of his cool hand slipping under your top to search for your beaded nipple, you cry out, straining against his wicked hold- but it's no use. Compared to Jake and Ransom, you're nothing in terms of size or strength. And now that they've got you where they want you, you're completely at their mercy. And you're not sure how much you can trust their promise of safety, not after all they've just done to you.
The meaner of the two laughs darkly as he finds one of the little knots of flesh, pinching and rolling it between his fingers as you cry softly to yourself. "Responsive little thing, isn't she?" he marvels as Jake takes to dealing with your panties; for a moment, he pushes them aside, but then after a few seconds of rethinking, he instead just decides to simply take the thin strip of fabric in his hands, pulling harshly until the band snaps apart completely.
"There we go," he murmurs as his eyes settle down on your dripping folds. "Such a pretty little pussy you've got, sunshine. It's a shame you didn't decide to share sooner."
Looking down over your shoulder to take his own peek, Ransom groans at the sight of your untouched petals. "Fuck, y/n. You've been keeping that all to yourself? Bet no one's ever done anything like this to you before. This your first time, princess?" Your words only continue to fail you as you lower your head in shame, your response giving the two boys all the answers they need. "Well too bad it has to be wasted on a punishment. Dumb little girl thought she could order a big girl toy- these things aren't made for you, baby. You're gonna realize that very quickly."
Pulling his hands away to fiddle with the box, Jake takes his time removing the little blue bullet from its packaging. The friends were smart enough to make sure to charge it before their little ambush, meaning they now have the benefit of its full battery life to spend on teaching you your little lesson. "Here it is," Jake hums, clicking it on carefully to the lowest speed. "Now sweetheart, I'm gonna give you one chance to get yourself outta this," he bargains.
That catches your attention. Raising your weary gaze to meet the blonde's soft set of eyes, you nod reluctantly. "I want you to show me and Ran exactly what you were gonna do with this thing. Want you to use it just like how you were planning when you bought it. And if you're honest with me- with us, and show us everything it was gonna do for you, we'll let you go."
Blinking, you take a moment to think. It's a good offer, you will admit, and he even seems genuine about keeping his end of the deal if you follow through with it. But there's a part of you that just can't bear the thought of demonstrating the crude acts you were intending on performing with the toy, at least not to your two best friends in the entire world. He left it unsaid, but it was implied: Jake wants you to make yourself cum for them. And you just can't do it, you know you can't. So you decide to do the only other thing you can think of: play stupid and pray they buy it.
Swallowing thickly, you nod. Shifting a little, Ransom releases one of your hands, still holding your breast hostage beneath his fingers, almost as an impending threat. Watching you carefully, Jake hands you the buzzing bullet, the strength of the toy's vibrations causing your hand to tingle ticklishly as you suck in a deep breath.
"Go ahead, cutie. Show us," Jake encourages.
Trying to keep your hand from shaking, you brace yourself as you bring the object down between your legs, searching a little to find your glistening hole. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push in, letting the low rumble of the vibrator settle into your core.
"Alright, that's enough," Ransom snaps, causing you to jump as Jake rips the toy from your heat and grasp. "Stupid fucking baby, that was a big mistake. Are you really too dumb to know where it goes? Or do you just want us to punish you?"
Shaking his head in disappointment, Jake sighs heavily. "Good girls don't lie, y/n," he states harshly as Ransom resecures both of your arms down against your back before reaching between your legs to land a few forceful slaps against your bare pussy.
You sob at the sting, gasping as his hand comes up to pull back the hood of your clit. "Give it to her, she was asking for it," he nods to Jake.
Turning up the toy a few clicks, the blonde focuses in his gaze on your little bundle of nerves as he gently collects some of your wetness on the twitching head of the tool before easing it up against your button, earning a strained gasp from you as your whole world's set on fire. The burning is unlike anything you've ever experienced, heat blooming in your core as you burst into more tears at the sensation. Shaking his head knowingly, Jake's voice is full of disappointment as he chastises you, "I gave you a chance, y/n, but you either lied to me, or you're just way dumber than I ever imagined."
"Look at all those tears," Ransom all but moans as he twists and pulls at your nipple, grinding subtly into your back as he holds you down for Jake's torment. "Keep it right on the head, pal- don't cut her any slack. What's the matter, sweetheart- huh? That too much for you? I thought you were a big girl who could handle big girl toys. Of course you're not," he laughs darkly, only egged on by the feeling of you writhing against him, "you're just a stupid little baby who needs to be taught a lesson."
"Think she's learning pretty quick," Jake comments as he practically drools at the sight of your wetness leaking out onto the bed beneath you. Using his free hand, he gently eases a finger into you, curling up gently to rub at your soft, spongey ceiling as your eyes roll back in horrific pain and pleasure.
"Please, please..." you're reduced to mere sobs as you feel the pressure of your orgasm building up more and more in your tummy. "Please, n-no-... wait-... stop-..."
"There it is. C'mon, baby. Cum for us, it's okay," Jake coos as he twirls the head of the bullet over your swollen clit. "That's it, there you go," he sighs with a small smile as you're forced over the edge, your back arching painfully as you squirt out onto his waiting hands.
"Fuck," Ransom curses from behind you, his cock bulging needily at the sight of you being forced to cum. "She's a fucking squirter, would'ya look at that. Better than anything I was dreaming of," he groans as your little toes twitch from the overstimulation, your sobs growing louder as you come down from your high.
"P-please, please, no more!" you hiccup, the continued vibrations against your now engorged button enough to bring you to your knees.
"You think she's learned her lesson, Ran?" Jake asks doubtfully, already knowing what the answer will be as he stretches you open to add a second finger before turning up the bullet another few notches.
"No, I don't think we're anywhere near finished," the brunette responds cruelly as he slaps his hand down a few times against your throbbing heat before pulling back on your lips again to spread you out once more. "She needs at least one more, maybe two. Gotta really show her how dangerous that little thing can be."
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
thebadboyfanclub · 10 months
Text
I Want My Life Back (Aemond x Reader)
Tumblr media
As you guys have realised I adore writing morally gray moments and subtle scenes of endearment between the reader and the character so I hope you like it as well
Tumblr media
Rhaenyra was furious, she had lost so much so fast, gave birth to a stillborn, her father was dead, Aegon was crowned king by Alicents command and now her daughter was nowhere to be found, what could she have done when Otto came to Dragonstone with “civil conditions” in order to negotiate but to also announce that her beloved daughter, her precious (y/n) was in Harrenhal with prince Aemond.
“You killed my daughter and now you dare to kidnap my dearest (y/n)?!”
“Nobody took your daughter princess, Aemond and (y/n) eloped”
“You expect me to believe that? My (y/n) would never do this”
“She is her mother's daughter, as you were forbidden by your father to marry Daemon she was also kept away from Aemond, no blood need be spilled, your daughter can create new lineage for the Targaryens, let us unite in harmony again”
“By harmony you mean we bow down to the drunkard bitch that you call king? (Y/n) is probably in some dungeon begging for mercy and you dare to indicate she went willingly? Let me make something clear to you Otto, if I need to kill someone, best believe I am going for Aemond first”
Daemon threatened in a hissed tone while he stood next to Rhaenyra, her hands formed fists from anger and agony, (y/n) was her only daughter, little raven-haired beauty with eyes at the color of the wooden tree she liked to rest under on the summer days in their garden, this was a calculated move from Aemond so Rhaenyras hand will be forced into violence… and he had succeeded.
“My daughter is not a broodmare, she is a princess, I will not allow you to force into squeezing Aemonds children just so you can have leverage over me. We are done here”
There was no way for Rhaenyra to predict this, she scattered her brain that night unable to sleep for glimpses of intimacy between Aemond and (y/n), (y/n) was a sweet girl and Aemond was a brooding prude that blamed his shortcomings on her sons, there was no way (y/n) could have fallen for him.
But (y/n) did, Rhaenyra might not remember though Rhaenyra was unable to see their hands intertwining under the table or how (y/n) looked at Aemond while at the training grounds, nor was she aware of the raven scrolls that were exchanged between them all these years, (y/n) was apprised of the consequences of her actions, she expected her mother to be livid, demanding her to come back home, she predicted everything apart of her grandsires death and the greens scheming.
“We must go back, my mother will listen to me, we can explain”
“My dear I always found your naive nature adorable besides this moment, Rhaenyra will ask for my head the moment she glances upon us”
“Then I shall go alone, Aemond your brother usurped her, if we declare for her perhaps Alicent will soften and bend the knee”
“That cannot happen, it is too dangerous, Daemon will throw me in the cells of dragonstone, is that what you want? To be kept away from me?”
Aemond reached for his lover's hands and brought them up to let them rest on his chest while he gawked deeply into her eyes with a pleasing look, the raven that was sent to them by Aemonds grandsire Otto should have been burned, foolishly he let her know of the events from Kings Landing, (y/n) was overcome by grief for Viserys even though it was Aemonds father.
Aemond was worried for the future with his intentions, not for kings or queens, they could kill each other for all he cared, in fact, what a bright idea would it be to see his lovely (y/n) wearing a crown while she stood by his side? A child or two next to them, the picture was rudely ripped from his imagination by (y/n) who paced around the room like a mad woman, whispering plans to go back, Aemond would rather eat dragon glass than see Rhaenyras face right now.
“No, of course not, Aemond, she is my mother”
“And my sister, my brother, my own mother, still I stand here by your side I do not whine and beg to run back to her”
“Whine? Is that what you think? That I’m simply homesick?”
“Truth be told I do not know what to think of you anymore”
“they need us”
“I need you, me! The one that came to your chambers and promised you a future as bright as the sun and children as many as the stars above, our families kept us from one another for so long I will not let them do it again”
Aemonds voice boomed through the room, (y/n) was left as still as a grain of salt, stiff as she lowered her gaze to the ground before she looked back up to him, fear and sadness written all over he faces, Aemonds deep breaths were the only thing you could hear at the same time that (y/n) was left with countless things to say, strangely she had seemed to lose her voice, no, he had taken it from her.
“I love you, Aemond, I love my family too”
“I am your new family and you better get that through your thick skull”
“You promised me that we would be happy”
“We will, once you give up those foolish ideas of going home”
“Aemond no, please”
She tried to run after him, instinctively she was sure of what was to come alas she was not fast enough, the door shut before her eyes and the sound of keys twisting was heard as she slid down the door to the ground.
Aemond stood on the other side, listening to her whimpering and (y/n) calling for him whilst she banged on the door in desperation, every fiber of his being was screaming to open the door, hug her, kiss her, give her everything her heart wishes, thought the fear of their families intervening and twisting their fate around until there was nothing left kept him from doing what his heart truly wanted.
“Please, I have never asked for much, keep her from hating me, in the Mother's name I pray”
Aemond had earned his piousness from his mother, the fear of the seven often sneaked into his consciousness making him beg for forgiveness for seeking the companion of (y/n) in a manner that was unbefitting his station, now he was left in his own devices to navigate his relationship and properly stir it to the safest route.
“Aemond, please, let me out”
Her voice cracked as her bangs on the door were becoming smaller, slowly giving up at the attempt to change his mind.
Aemond was the only man (y/n) ever wanted, she adored her mother as deep as bones so to run away with Aemond meant a lot, on the contrary (y/n) wanted to stand by her mothers' side, why must she choose between love and family?
Minutes passed, minutes turned to hours and (y/n) stayed on the cold floor while the sun said its goodbyes and was replaced by the moon, a serene night, sounds of nature filled her ears that usually calmed her, the wind passing through the leaves was melodic yet (y/n) felt like an empty shell of a person, weak from crying she dragged herself to her bed, she did not even try to take her clothes off, she just laid there, waiting for the sweet feeling of sleep to take her away, take her to her mother.
It was a pointless task, (y/n) could not just sleep like nothing has happened, besides, the bed was too cold for her liking, it was their second night away from home and they were spending it away since Aemond decided to lock her away like a child in punishment, safe to say that it wasn’t unraveling the way (y/n) had pictured it.
While (y/n) was dwelling over the bad turn of events a shuffling of keys in the lock forced her to raise from the bed and turn her attention towards the wooden door.
“(Y/n)?”
Aemonds voice was as light as a feather as he walked into the room, the candles snarfed out hours ago meant the only source of light came from outside which wasn’t that helpful, still as the moonlight laminated in the room Aemonds silver hair alerted her.
“You are being cruel”
“You mean everything to me”
“I want my life back”
“You chose to come with me”
“Not as your prisoner”
“Can you promise me that if I set you free you won’t try to run away?”
Silence, utter silence took over as (y/n) bit her bottom lip, Aemond waited patiently before a smirk appeared on his lips.
“I thought so”
“I still need you, intensely at that, my love for you is deeper than this, I just- do you understand why I am resisting?”
“I do, do you understand why I want us to stay away”
“Yes”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Lay with me”
Her voice was meek and hoarse from crying almost until this moment until the tears dried up and the gagging from the sore throat became insufferable, her eyes swollen and red, Aemond hated seeing her like this, he wanted to claw himself and rip his skin to pieces for putting her through such emotional suffering.
He complied by taking off his jacket, then shoes and pants, slowly to not startle her he crawled into bed with her, his arms snaked around her and his one hand found her thick strands of hair while the other ran circles on her back, (y/n) took a deep inhale at the contact, his touch always had a strong influence over her, Aemond was (y/n)s milk of the poppy, addictive, sweet and numbing to point of delusions, a faint smile appeared from (y/n) as she nuzzled closer to him, her hands clung on to him for dear life.
Aemond was her prison, he held the keys to her freedom yet she wanted to stay, to love him, some would call it the stupidity of a young girl, the poets would say that the love had poisoned her blood and (y/n) was letting the snake bite her because of how sweet the kiss was.
“I will always be here for you”
“I know, I just wish things had been different”
“They will be”
“You don’t know that”
“I will do my best”
“That is still not good enough, I am sorry but it’s not, Aemond we could-“
“I will not breathe more life into the matters of our families, the people that kept us apart if you recall, I just want to enjoy your presence for one night”
(Y/n) only puffed out a breath of frustration, she hated to admit that he was right, going over it again and again would not sway him to her side of things whatsoever, if anything it angered Aemond to a bigger extent and that would make things worst for (y/n).
“Hopefully one day we can look back on this time period and laugh, your hair will be great and our grandchildren will run around us”
“That sounds like a wonderful future dearest”
“Do you think we can make it?”
“I don’t know”
He was honest as he stroked her head and she inhaled sharper to take in his scent, a scent that soothed her, a scent that reminded her of a time that they sneaked around the castle at the hour of the wolf in Aegons chambers while he was already out of the gates doing Gods know what.
“What I do know is that I will not stop until I create a haven, for you, and for our new family”
“Until we can open our gates to our families”
Aemond chose to bite back his tongue, it irritated him that she always found a way to bring them up, Aemond was certain that this rivalry for the throne would end in a bloodbath for both sides, nobody could tell with certainty that Rhaenyra or all the others would survive.
Of course, it left him anxious as well, his lovely sister, Heleana, his adoring mother, Alicent, his sweet brother, Daeron, and even the agitating Aegon who had his moments, he had to give it to him that Aegon was the only one that helped him keep his affair with (y/n) under wraps.
“We should rest, an important morrow awaits us”
“Will you help me pick out a dress?”
“I have already arranged a dress for you, did you think I was going to let my bewitching bride wear a simple gown?”
Requests are open!
444 notes · View notes
emjiroki · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
I couldn't contain myself, I had to write something for Reo. He's been plaguing me.
Nagi's stepsis! Reader x Reo (kinda enemies to lovers sort of)
Wordcount: 1k-ish
TW: Dubcon (Reo is a perv and a little selfish and a lot impulsive), explicit scenes and language, all characters over 21+, this wasn't rushed but written pretty quick cause my brain was working for once. Hope everyone enjoys 💕 likes, reblogs, and comments always appreciated.
Tumblr media
Reo always acted like he hated you, couldn't stand that you were even on the planet, despite being the one to insist on staying at Nagi's place. Where he knew you would be. Nagi's pretty stepsister who, Reo claims, is the bane of his existence; always arguing with him and being pouty like the spoiled brat you were.Nagi had explained to him on the ride over that you were just staying with him for a bit as you finished up the last semester of university before you moved into an apartment with one of your friends; But how was he supposed to keep up the facade and act like he wanted nothing to do with you when you were flouncing around his best friends house every time he showed up, with your glossy lips and gorgeous eyes that begged him to fuck your throat till tears were spilling from them. He'd never admit it to anyone but his favorite piece of material in his spank bank was a picture of you at your birthday dinner last month, wearing the tight houndstooth pattern skirt he had bought for you and and looking absolutely gorgeous in it. Had he handed you the gift bag and barely uttered a happy birthday before heading off to the gym with Nagi? sure but it didn't mean he liked you. Just... begrudgingly tolerated you. Despite stroking his cock till it was nearly raw every night to thought of fucking you full of his cum and make you his girl.
○●○●
Reo had been trying and failing for the last hour to concentrate on the game him and Nagi were playing online with Yoichi and Hayoma; but the only thing in his mind was you and that whiney voice of yours. Bratty. Pleading with "Shiro-ni" to let you have the big tv in the living room to watch one of your dumb movies, despite having a perfectly good fifty inch flatscreen in the guest room you were staying in to use. Reo couldn't help the way his dick had jumped at your begging, his breath stuttering as all the blood in his brain rushed south. He wanted you whiney and begging for him, tone dripping with lust and brain full of nothing but him.
"Died again. Damn it" Nagi groaned rolling his eyes when he Chigiri taunted him over the headset, "what is up with you tonight?". It took a moment for Reo to realize Nagi was talking to him.
"Huh? Nothing, what's up with you?" He retorted, shifting uncomfortably in the beanbag as his cock throbbed and strained against his sweatpants, "been letting us get our asses kicked".
"Me? You're the one over there spacing out thinking about my sister". Reo's heart began hammering in his throat and he could feel his face heating.
"Oh god as if" He scoffed, rolling his eyes and breaking contact to look away, "She's so goddamn annoying".
"Right, I know you like her dude" Nagi said simply, getting up to switch his controller now that the battery had died before the next round.
"Whatever, Im gonna go piss I'll be back" Reo said, his jaw tight.
"Grab those chips we got at the convenience store earlier while your out there". Reo waved him off as he shut the door but he would grab them anyway. He didn't actually have to piss, he just wanted to leave the room and break the tension, Damn that white haired bastard for calling him out and being right.
Reo didn't see you when he walked out into the living room, the last twenty minutes of your movie still playing and setting the room in a bright glow. It wasn't until he got to the doorway of the kitchen that he saw you, sprawled out asleep on the couch, the throw blanket you had been using falling off onto the floor and leaving your shirt rucked up and short sleeps shorts on full display. He nearly swallowed his tongue when he realized you were wearing one of the T-shirts he had left over here, an old one from when he was in BlueLock. The sight of your soft skin with the cotton pulled up, knowing you most definitely were not wearing a bra underneath, had his blood running hot again; saliva pooling against his tongue and his cheeks burning like open flames. 'Chips, get the chips' He chided himself, turning his back and going to the cabinet to pull the bag out. But then he was in the doorway again, bag lightly gripped in his hand as he stood there a moment, just gazing at you and wondering about everything wrong with him. Everything inside him that was shuffling his feet forward to get a look under your loose shorts, just a look. He'd just pull them to the side real easy and you'd never even know. He was on his knees at the side of the couch, chip bag forgotten on the floor, feeling equal parts shame and excitement as he hooked his fingers beneath the soft material; feeling the lacy edges of your panties. You were so warm under his fingers and it made him throb to think about how wet you'd be, what you'd taste like. He bit back a groan as he let his mind wander for a moment, thinking about how sweet you would be against his tongue and how much he craved it. Craved it like a dog. He couldn't help the feelings of shame dissipating as the mental image of you spread bare and dripping for him broke the last of his restraint. It would only be a taste, just to quell the urge and allow him a little self indulgence. That wasn't wrong right?
Reo was still delicate as he moved your shorts and underwear to the side, not wanting to risk waking you by trying to take it all off, his bright purple eyes taking in every bit of skin he could see until he finally had your pretty pussy on display.
"God, angel just look at you" he murmured just below the volume of the tv, inching his face closer to your exposure until he brushed his nose against the wiry hairs at your mound. He was fulfilling every fantasy he had the moment he sucked your clit in against his tongue, running the slippery muscle up to nudged at the sensitive little bud before dipping down to taste at your entrance, your body tensing beneath his hand lightly on your hip. He couldn't get too greedy, not wanting to wake you but also so so desperate to make you cum so you'd drip against his tastebuds. He tried so hard to be gentle, delicate and light with his menstruations but the more of you he tasted, the drunker he became; vision growing hazy and his moans getting harder and harder to hold back. He was trying so hard not to buck his hips, to not cum in his pants like some inexperienced teenager, rolling and suckling your clit with his lips and tongue stimulating you so much your hips began to unconsciously chase his mouth anytime he attempted to pull away, which only drove him more crazy. You wanted him, you needed him,at least that's what his fuzzy brain was screaming. Craved him as much as he craved you for the first time and his animal brain wasn't about to let up and disappoint you. He needed you to cum for him, needed it like his lungs needed air, and any thought other than getting you to that high was irrelevant; his cock heavy and leaking through his underwear a distant thought. Drool was smearing from his lips against your puffy clit and the light rub of his teeth against your sensitivity had a breathy moan gracing his ears. Reo thought he had died and gone to heaven when he felt a hand card through his violet hair, and not that you had awoken when a desperate groan had spilled from his lips and vibrated against your pussy. He didn’t stop, trying in vain to gain his breath as his heart sat like a rock in his stomach and he was barely able to look up knowing that you would be looking at him.
"Reo?" you mumbled sleepily, pressing up against his fervent mouth even as uncertain butterflies burst through your stomach. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his face as he grunted a confirming sound, not able to tear himself away even as he gained the courage to flash his gaze up to you when you didn't push him away. The stars in his eyes were infectious, addicting in a way you weren't expecting as he looked at you; his pupils blown wide and expression pleading you not to reject him as he pressed closer to devour you and bring you to your high. You were a lot closer than you thought, the feeling of him spitting messily against your clit sending you over the edge with a cut off moan, your hand clamping over your mouth so as not to alert Nagi, your legs tensing around Reo's broad shoulders and shivers running up your spine. He eased back just as your toes uncurled, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs and smearing your slick against your skin and across his chin. You giggled breathlessly, focusing on the feeling of his shallow breaths and the softness of his hair beneath your fingers.
"Reo, if you wanted me so bad all you had to do was say pretty please" You admitted quietly, watching as the purple haired man smirked and bit your flesh teasingly before shouldering his way past your thighs till your legs were around his waist and his lips were hovering over yours, the pussy drunk look on his face only sending heat to your core again. He kissed the corner of your lips and then your cheek before trailing down your throat to your pulse point, a shaky breath and groan fanning your skin.
"P-Pretty Please"
Tumblr media
514 notes · View notes
seeingivy · 7 months
Text
sick with sadness
actor eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting fic
content: mentions of depression/anxiety, getting taken advantage of, pure sadness NO happy in this chapter
an: I am alive. I am convinced I have some underlying chronic disease or illness going on with the way the past three weeks have gone, but I am alive. we are all going to close our eyes and read this chapter and then move on.
previous chapter
--
Eren’s tenth birthday is the first time he feels it. 
He sits on the spiral staircase to watch the crowd roar on outside, well past the normal time he’d be asleep. He can feel the tiredness sitting in his eyes, the stuffy, starched suit his mom forced him to wear digging into his neck. There’s a mix of blue, green, and yellow confetti littered on the floor, a sticky grime to the usual pristine house his mom’s meticulousness affords - and he hates it. 
From his vantage point, he can see every corner of the party, the expansive glass doors letting him catch every person laughing, enjoying, swinging to the beat of the music. Armin and Bertholdt are pouring salt into Historia and Annie’s drinks while they use the bathroom, Sasha and Jean are being way too aggressive with the pinata, and Mikasa’s braiding a little flower crown for a very smiley Marco. 
His parents' friends, people whose movies he’s spent years watching when he grew up, studied when he was at the SHWA are on the right side of the lot, sparkling dresses getting ruined by the mud in the backyard and their expensive jewelry discarded on the tables. 
And all Eren can do is watch. Whatever it is, the block in his chest, that’s stopping the breath from reaching his lungs - it’s gluing him down to the seat, making every part of his brain feel heavy and his arms feel loose. 
If souls were real, his would be hundreds, thousands of miles away - detached from his real body. 
He hears a loud pounding and turns his neck to find Ymir and Reiner poking the little aquarium to the left of the staircase. The fish he picked out with Zeke on his last birthday, the picture perfect day of quiet solitude, are frantically swimming around the tank.
He watches the two of them, their inquisitive eyes laughing as the fish duck around the tank after each respective smack. The lights flicker every time Ymir pounds her closed fist against the glass, the sound so loud that it smacks against the wall behind it. 
And suddenly, the sound, that sound, is all too loud, so jarring that before he knows it there’s thick tears pouring out of his eyes and his voice is getting all tangled in his chest. He’s not sure how he got there, but suddenly he’s standing up, freed from the stairs, and yelling at the two of them. 
“Stop smacking against the glass, Ymir! They don’t like that.” 
Ymir looks over, a confused and almost bored look on her face. Reiner's eyes, he's so puzzled, only make his skin burn more. Reiner’s looking at him like there’s something wrong with him. 
Is there something wrong with him?
“It’s just a fish, Eren. They don’t even care.” Ymir says, bending back over to focus her eyes on the glass. 
“They do care! Every time you punch the glass they swim away because they’re scared.” Eren says, his chest heaving too hard, his mind not catching fast enough to stop it. 
Reiner and Ymir shrug as they walk away, the two of them giving Eren pitchy awkward smiles as they each squeeze his shoulder once. And when they’re finally out of their vantage point, the tears are only hotter, faster, scalding hot as he stares at the fish in their little cave, instead of swimming freely in the tank. 
The fish, long gone, are always what come back to Eren when the feeling returns. 
When the sadness takes residence in his chest.
--
“Sorry…line?” Eren says, giving an awkward smile to the director as he turns his neck to the right. 
The director, David Lance, rolls his eyes as he cuts filming on the scene, very aggressively calling for lunch. Eren feels his throat sink into his chest, the regret settling in regardless, as he watches him angrily storm off, the cast and the crew awkwardly shuffle behind him. 
He should have spent longer memorizing his lines. Or at least reviewed them this morning. Eren shuffles his feet to the coffee cart as he starts apologizing to the cast and crew, who are all but kind to him about his performance. Truly, his only saving grace in the personal hell that he’s living in.
Deep down, Eren knew that whatever he worked on next, wod never compare to the work that he did on Attack on Titan. Getting to work with his biggest role models, all of the people he grew up with, the girl he was in love with right across the door from him - it was virtually impossible for anything to shape up. 
He just didn’t realize it would be this fucking bleak on the other side. 
The plot of Satellite Port is mediocre at best. Another cheesy astronaut movie, clearly trying to catapult off the success of the feature film that won best picture last year. A half-assed director - who can’t even fucking direct - and maybe the stupidest dialogue he’s ever seen in his life. 
Eren’s a good actor. But even he can’t fix this. 
And he’s had enough when he hears an irritated sigh behind him and turns around to find Gianna de Anola, his prissy co-star, glaring at him. An ice-cold supermodel, Gianna’s making her break onto the acting front, trying to fall in the footsteps of her world-famous triple threat mother. 
“You know, maybe if you didn’t stay up jerking off, we’d actually be able to finish this movie on time.” she says, slouching down in her chair as her assistant brings her lunch to her side. 
If Eren could, he’s strangle her assistant every time he walked over. And then her for good measure too. 
“I wasn’t jerking off.” Eren mutters, grabbing his script from the table as he flips to the end of the pages. His lines are all highlighted and he can feel his frustration growing even deeper as he remembers he spent two hours doing this scene yesterday. 
“You want to know something embarrassing, Eren?” Gianna says, twisting the straw in her soda can with her perfectly manicured fingers. 
From the look on her face, Eren already knows. She’s going to say something that’s going to ruin his whole day. 
“Please, Gianna. I’m dying of fucking curiosity over here.” 
“You spend all your time watching your little pop-star girlfriend perform on her world tour. You wake up at the ass crack of dawn, sacrifice the movie you’re working on, probably text her good luck before every show of hers and I’ll give you twenty bucks she won’t even come to your premiere.” 
“She’s not my girlfriend.” 
Eren drops his script on to his lap, his ears burning with irritation, at idiots like Gianna. The picture perfect image of nepotism.
Eren’s not trying to be hypocritical. He knows that his parents are famous actors, his brothers at the top of the industry, which sets him out to be a premier face in the industry. But Gianna is a whole different breed. 
Because Eren’s trying. He- he has a reason for wanting to do this. There’s a difference between him and her. 
There’s a part of him, deep down, that’s enthralled with the job he gets to do. That encourages, cherishes, deeply acknowledges that what he gets to do is a privilege. 
Eren is making art. He gets to tell stories about people's lives and take every broken part of him and make it into something great. He can pour every negative, disgusting, boring, happy, ecstatic moment he’s ever had into a scene to make it something better. 
Have someone watching his work at home feel seen, have their chest stir and their eyes water because someone out there feels the same thing he does. Make people feel nostalgic, excited, sad - to feel the feelings with him. To be with him from the beginning of the story till the end, to be excited about what he has to say and what he has to do. 
Eren’s parents are famous. And by definition, so is he. But there’s a part of him, deep down, that wants to prove himself. Show that he has feelings, emotions, something to share with people that’s true, authentic - and not just because it was what he was meant to do. 
And he knows that’s not the case here. 
She’s a specific type. Part of the clear cut, mindless army of people with famous parents - living, thriving off what gets them attention next. It makes Eren sick, makes his stomach turn over in circles and circles until he’s churning with anger. So angry, so negative that it makes his skin itch like he’s covered in dirt. 
He looks over at Gianna, a smirk pressed on her perfectly airbrushed face from the makeup team, and he can’t help but feel the burning in his chest sink lower and lower until it’s replaced with ice cold. A hollow wind, rustling through trees.  
It’s because he knows Gianna is right. And that if an idiot like her can catch onto it, it won’t be fast until everyone else follows, until he’s the radio clown in the papers next week. 
Because despite your best efforts, Eren knows deep down that she’s right. 
You won’t be coming to his premiere. You’re above it. 
--
Eren swirls the fizzy drink in his hand as he leans against the wall, eyes focused on every person and almost no one in the room at the same time. And he’s trying to push that feeling down, the block in his chest, as he tries to memorize all the faces here, everyone celebrating in front of him. 
He’ll remember this moment as the sweetest one. When he can finally say goodbye to this godforsaken movie. He feels a smack on his shoulder and a sudden flash in his eyes, all his senses bombarded all of a sudden. 
“TMZ! TMZ! TMZ!” 
“Connie. Would it kill you to be quiet for maybe like five minutes?” Jean mutters, rolling his eyes as he shoves Connie to the side. 
Eren finds Connie, Jean, Armin, and Marco in his periphery, the three of them smiling big at him. Connie and Jean have clearly already had too much to drink - from the way their ties are loosened against their necks and the pink tints on their cheeks. 
And from the way they’re currently trying to wrestle each other at his wrap party. 
“Do you ever think about that? Armin is literally like paparazzi with that fucking polaroid camera. He’s been a little bitch like that since he was fifteen.” Connie says, squishing Armin’s cheek, as Armin frantically tries to swat him off. 
“Like you’re any better, Connie. You’ve been doing the same thing to Eren and Y/N since like the first day of filming.” Marco responds, taking the spot next to Eren, giving him a smile. 
“See but. That was me helping a brother get it. I got so tired of seeing his little horny, wimpy eyes I just had to help him out.” Connie responds, snickering with Jean.
“Oh my god. Connie look, it’s that girl from Death Note.” Eren says, pointing in an ambiguous mention. 
Connie’s so frazzled by the mere mention of her - and the alcohol in his system surely can’t help - that he’s dragging Jean to the other side of the room where Eren pointed, the two of them creating a mess of knocking things over as he leaves. 
In another life, and probably in this one too, Eren thinks that Connie was raised in a barn. 
Armin and Marco lean against the wall with Eren, the three of them staring across the room together now. After six months of pure torture - the most irritating director known to man, the biggest diva as his co-star, and the sweltering heat of Tampa, Florida - Eren’s finally been freed from the godforsaken Satellite Port movie. 
The day he’s been looking forward to, since he started all this, is finally at his front door and he can’t be more than relieved. He gets to hear the ratings for the movie at the end of the party, celebrate with his friends, and finally see you after seven months. 
And stick it to Gianna di Anola’s face that you still love him. Granted, she doesn’t know that you two are actually dating or that you even love each other - no one does besides your friends - but he can still have the satisfaction. Of imaging her stupid face pursed up in irritation at being wrong. That he has something she doesn’t. 
“Can I say something you potentially might not like?” Armin says, tucking the polaroid he just took - the tops of Connie and Jean’s eyes and a very confused looking Eren in the back - into his coat as he leans back. 
“Sure.” Eren responds. 
“I really hate your co-star. She- she’s so annoying.” Armin responds, sighing. 
Eren laughs as he pats Armin on the shoulder, amused that Armin thought something like that could offend him. 
“Imagine working with her for six months.” Eren deadpans, eliciting laughs from both Armin and Marco. 
The feeling - the overwhelming, all consuming wave of panic - is subsiding in his chest as Marco laughs at his side, the three of them nitpicking everyone in the room to pass the time. No one’s safe from the three of them - every stuck up friend of Gianna’s, the coattail hanging out of David’s outfit, and the godforsaken designer - they're not safe from the three of them
“David Lance has a stick up his ass and that’s what he used to write that dogshit script.” Eren says, his face hurting from smiling. 
“And the best part? Gianna di Anola thinks the script is amazing because she can’t even read it.” 
Armin, Marco, and Eren turn their heads to find Sukuna at their side, a devious smirk pressed onto his lips. They all laugh as Sukuna slides against the wall next to Eren, taking the glass from his hands, and downing the last of the liquid. He makes a weird face as he swallows, turning to Eren.
“Are you drinking apple cider?” 
“I don’t like to drink.” Eren responds. 
Sukuna gives him a polite nod before rolling his eyes, his glare focused toward the front door. Hyla Clarkson - the girl that Sukuna has publicly been feuding with for the past few months - just entered, pressing kisses to Gianna and her family. 
All he knows is that if he tallied up every time Hyla and Sukuna argued and fought, she would win - by a longshot. Sukuna’s still blacklisted from getting hired by certain studios - a fact he only knows because he only ever took Satellite Port because Sukuna was supposed to be there with him. It was a rude surprise when he showed up and got left to fend for himself. 
“So are you on again or off again?” Armin asks. 
“On. But- I. I don’t know - they’ve got this way of sucking you in.” he responds. 
“Wasn’t she dating that model last week? What’s his name again, something-” Marco starts. 
“No. You know how tabloids are, they-they’re always on some shit.” Sukuna responds. 
Eren puts a hand on Sukuna’s shoulder and squeezes, pushing even further. 
“So did they photoshop that picture of them kissing or-?” Eren says, a teasing tone in his voice. 
“She was just trying to piss me off, it-it’s all part of the chase. Plus, you should know of all people, Eren. You’re telling me everything that the tabloids write about Ricky and Y/N is true?” 
Eren lets go, his throat dry at the mention of it. He can feel his knuckles turning white against the empty glass Sukuna handed back to him, Marco and Armin finishing off the conversation for him. Eren’s too busy seeing red to even pay attention, at the thought of Ricky James. 
Eren's never met Ricky James. But he knows far too much. He’s read every Wikipedia page, scoured every tabloid, fan page, supporting comment, Reddit thread about him. 
One of the worst parts of being famous? People can comment, theorize, and speculate about every aspect of your life. Even worse? That there’s a breadth of information to pit yourself against, to pinpoint all the perfections and none of the flaws for his self-imagined competition.
And Eren hates to think that way, to take the words of teenage girls and tabloid writers to heart, but there’s a small part of him that feels sick from the entire ordeal. Because everyone thinks Ricky James is better for you than him. 
He’s a twenty year old singer-songwriter from a small town in New York, who's recently been breaking into the acting scene. Like you, he’s one of the few premiere actors who has pulled in the industry who doesn’t come from a famous family. And like you, he’s charming and mesmerizing - beloved by the people. 
And ever since you both got cast in Little Women together - him as Laurie and you as Amy - and the press tours started all people can do is talk. And Eren, every self-preservationist thread of him gone - can only listen. Watch fans edit videos of you two being cute together for ten minutes, listen to podcasts where the two of you gush about each other's talents, see that Ricky was able to get time off in his schedule to go to your tour when Eren was stuck on Satellite Port. 
It fills him with rage. And it makes him feel less than. And every time Eren tries to shut the voice in him down, to convince himself that it’s not true and that you’re still at your best, he comes out short. Granted, a personal affliction for negative thoughts is easier to shut out. To convince himself that he’s making it up. Seventy thousand people affirming his worst fears makes it harder. 
“Wasn’t it their fault you got fired from the ensemble of Last Voyage? And Satellite Port?” Armin asks, remembering the tabloid blast from the past few months. 
“Yeah, well not her but the people around her. Her dad especially - they have so much pull, it’s insane. And-and they play mind games and shit, I couldn’t even tell you the half of it. It’s-” 
Right on cue, Hyla walks up to the four of them, a sickly sweet smile on her face. She’s wearing a long, willowing green gown and watches her stick her hand out for Sukuna. And Eren’s floored when he watches Sukuna purse his lip and give a polite excuse me as she whisks him away, leaving the three of them on the wall. 
Armin gets pulled off the wall by Connie and Jean who have returned with Misa, who is apparently a really big fan of Armin’s. And by how pink Connie is, giggling like there’s no tomorrow, Eren knows it's better to stay away from him to avoid any chance of second hand embarrassment. 
“I always miss this.” Marco says, a soft smile on his face. 
“Connie being a dumbass?” Eren asks.. 
“I mean, not particularly that, but all of us being together. It feels weird to be so far away from everyone when we’re all doing things so different.” Marco responds. 
Eren knows Marco far too well to be doing this. 
“Quit trying to psychoanalyze me, Marco.” Eren asks, narrowing his eyes at him. 
“That’s my job.” 
Eren and Marco turn their necks to find Historia in a pale blue dress, a soft smile on her face. They both rush forward and immediately wrap their arms around her, both taking a second to press a kiss to her cheek. 
“So what are we psychoanalyzing Eren about, Marco?” Historia asks, the two of them giving teasing smiles. 
“Nothing. We’re not psychoanalyzing me about anything. I’m fine.” 
“Y/N. Ricky James. Everyone being so far away, but her specifically.” Marco responds. 
Historia pinches her mouth into a straight line, the look in her eyes making Eren feel like a scolded child. If it was a different person, Eren would feel pitied. By both of them. But he knows them both far too well to know they’re the few people in his arsenal who would fight for him. 
“Ricky James. Huh? Seems like an asshole a little bit.” Historia states, swiping two ice cream cups off the tray. She hands the extra to Eren, leaning towards Marco as they share the other.
“You’re just saying that because you feel loyalty to me, Hisu. I’m sure he’s a nice guy and Y/N seems to like him.” Eren responds, his chest feeling like an anvil all of a sudden. 
Historia frowns as she turns to his side, her eyebrows knit together in frustration. 
“Yeah. I don’t like him because I feel loyalty to you, Eren. But I also don’t like him because he was friends with John.” 
Marco and Eren both clear their throats and swallow hard at the mention, the regret sitting in Eren’s chest for even saying that in the first place. On instinct, Eren wraps his arm around Historia’s shoulder, Marco following suit as they both rest their heads against hers. She sighs at the touch, squeezing both of their shoulders in response. 
Mentioning John is basically like saying the devils’ name for Historia. The music producer that she had been working with since she was seventeen and the one who all but pounced on her the second she turned eighteen. Eren thinks it’s disgusting that the same thing happened basicallly happened. Levi told him that he has forewarned him.
The two of them had made so many hit songs together, he’d basically helped Historia start her music career. When they got together that no one batted an eye. They were charming and celebrated - ignoring the fact that Historia was only nineteen and John was in his thirties. That Historia looked awkward and uncomfortable near him. 
Everything came crashing down a year ago when Historia got dumped, for lack of a better word, on the side of the street and left to a swarm of paparazzi after an argument she had with him. Ymir and Sasha were the ones who got to her the fastest, ducking her into a car, and hiding her for the time being. 
But in true Historia fashion, she was never one to be quiet. She wrote Dear John. Made art out of her pain, something Eren could only admire and love her for. Her effortless way of bouncing back, of jumping straight back into what hurt her for the sake of art was something only Eren could dream of possessing.
Something he envied when everything weighed so heavy on his mind. 
“I’d kill him if he did anything like that to her.” Eren states. 
“I’d help you.” Historia responds. 
“Speaking of, I haven’t talked to her in a while. Is she taking breaks with the tour and movie and all?” Marco asks. 
“She doesn’t take breaks. From the way she’s going, I don’t think she’ll stop till she gets what she wants. Which, you need that type of drive to do this. To get what she wants.” 
Historia brings her hand up to Eren’s shoulder again, squeezing. 
“Eren. When was the last time you talked to her?” 
“It’s-it’s been a while with the time differences. When she’s not performing, she’s writing. And when she’s done writing, she’s practicing lines. There’s not really any time for that and I’m not going to be the one to pull her back when she’s in the zone and-” 
“Eren. I’m sorry.” Historia says, her voice borderline pleading. 
“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal-” 
“Do you know how rare it is to have what you do? It’s insane that two people can even like each other at the same time but to be in love, so fully and unselfishly, you-you can’t let that get away from you.” Historia says, her eyes turning red and her voice getting louder as she goes on. 
“Hisu. I-” 
“We’re seeing her next week for the awards and your birthday. Just-just tell her, okay? I’ll kill you if you let something like this pass you by. Or I’ll haunt you from my grave if I’m dead.” Historia says. 
“You sound like me.” Marco says, giving her a teasing smile. 
“Shut up, Marco.” she responds. 
Eren leans into their touch, their limbs all still tangled together, as he sighs into the air, trying to focus on the good. That they’re here with him, even if you can’t be. And that'll be you instead of them in a week. 
It doesn’t work. The sadness still creeps in. 
--
Eren closes out all the tabs of his laptop as he sees your picture flash against his screen, accompanied by his ringtone. He slides the video call open, the mere sight of you making his heart ache. 
“Hi Eren.” 
“Hi Y/N. Ready for your show?” 
“Eh. Almost.” 
Eren glares, narrowing his eyes at you as he waits for your laugh. You’re basically primed to perfection - your hair perfectly blown out, your sparkly silver dress pinned down, and your glittery makeup shining. 
“Okay, okay. I’m ready, I just wanted to call you.” 
Eren frowns, realizing that his shortcomings were so horrible, that they were enough to illicit a call from you when you were this busy. 
“Because I’m a failure?” 
“Eren. You’re not a failure. You-when have we ever cared what the Elms have said?” 
The Elms officially released their gold standard review of Satellite Port last night. Eren wasn’t expecting much, knowing that this was far from his best work, but the review was scathing. And the articles that followed were even worse. He’d spent all morning reading them, his chest burning and his head becoming a solid rock weighing him down with every last word. 
The worst thing that we see nowadays is a waste of talent. A true, self-actualized potential fall short. Our latest example? Attack on Titan star, Eren Jaeger. After garnering himself a total of three nominations the Institute last award season, it seems that the actor is on the come down. His work in Satellite Port was described as insanely mediocre, almost painful to watch knowing that this is the same boy who acted in the infamous Thank You scene - which garnered him his first Institute Award win. Eren is nominated for four awards at the Institute TV Awards next week - Best Actor in a Lead Role, Best Actor in a Drama Series, Best Scene, and Ensemble Cast - which will most likely be his last nominations ever with the work that he’s been putting out. We’ll see if Hange Zoe and Levi Ackerman can wrangle him in place for the last season of Attack on Titan and salvage his career. 
“The things the Elms said about you and Armin back in the day were baseless. You- they just didn’t like you because of your parents. You’ve proved yourself over time and time again. I had all these things stacked up against me, there should have been no reason I failed and I did anyway.” Eren responds. 
He watches you frown on the other side of the screen as you lean forward, your eyes washed over in concern. Eren immediately feels guilty for worrying you right before you’re about to perform, trying to save face as fast as possible. 
“I’m just going to be upset about it today and I’ll be okay tomorrow, alright?” Eren asks. 
“Just today, Eren. I’ll kill you otherwise, you little bitch.” you respond, giving him your best angry look. 
Eren laughs at your profanities, which elicits a smile from you. 
“You kiss your mom with that mouth, Y/N?” 
“Mhm. And I kiss you with it too.” 
“You’re so vulgar.” 
“Wanna know something cool? Yesterday, when I was performing New Year’s Day at the start, the applause literally went on for n-” 
“Nine minutes. And then they cheered your name for another ten after you walked off for your outfit change.” Eren responds, finishing your sentence. 
“You watched?” 
“Don’t be stupid. I watch you every time you perform. I like watching you - the faces you make when you’re singing your songs and smiling at people - it’s cute. Makes it easier when I miss you so much.” 
He watches you sigh, your face contorting into a frown. 
“I miss you too. I-I’m really excited to see you next week.” 
“Me too.” 
He watches you finish off your routine - as you clip on your earrings and fiddle with the ends of the hair as your team starts moving around you, pointing at their watches to indicate that you’re going to go on soon. 
“Wanna know the stupidest thing about your tour, Y/N?” 
“There’s stupid things on my tour?” 
“Just the one.” 
“Please enlighten me, wise one.” 
“You sing New Year’s Day with a piano backtrack instead of playing the piano.” 
“What’s the point of learning how to properly play the piano when you’ll always be there to do it for me?” 
He feels his chest stirring at the words, even more when you blow him a kiss before hanging up to perform. His phone screen is left on your contact, the picture of the two of you making him smile. 
He closes out all the tabs of the reviews, replacing them with the live stream of your show as he crawls back into his bed. And when he watches you wink at the camera right before you start singing New Year’s Day with your piano backtrack, he knows its for him.
--
“Ymir. This isn’t even half convincing.” Eren says, trying to swat her hands off his covered eyes. 
“Shut the fuck up. You don’t even know what’s coming.” Ymir responds, pushing hard against his eyes as she swings him into the little foyer. 
“It’s my birthday. Almost everyone we know is in town for the award show tomorrow. None of you guys have said happy birthday to me and now you’re inconspicuously leading me somewhere with my eyes covered. Oh, I’m dying of curiosity here, Ymir.” 
“You’re no fun.” she responds, lifting her fingers off his eyes. He’s met with the sight of everyone popping confetti in his face at the same time, an excited amount of cheers filling up the air. 
Mikasa and Armin reach him first, almost everyone wrangling them in his arms and smacking him on the back. Connie offers him his first legal shot as a twenty-one year old, which Levi confiscates in three seconds. Reiner rolls his eyes as he swings a sash around Eren’s neck, which elicits an insurmountable amount of laughter from everyone.
“Mother to be?” Eren asks, reading the sparkly cursive writing on the sash. 
“They ran out of birthday sashes. And giving birth is basically adjacent to birthdays, so I figured it was the best one. It was either that or a quinceanera.” Reiner explains. 
“A quinceanera is a real birthday dumbass.” Eren responds, shoving him to the side. 
Everyone’s too overzealous and excited to hand him gifts because they’re immediately sitting him down, handing him packed boxes. Hange and Levi gift him an expensive watch, the pair of them pressing a kiss to his head, before retreating upstairs to their rooms, arms locked together and whispering in each other's ears as they go up.
Reiner and Bertholdt give him gag gifts first - which are just framed pictures of every time he’s flipped off paparazzi - before giving him his real gift, their annotated versions of the original Attack on Titan script. 
Eren’s been a big fan of Reiner’s blocking notes since they were students together at the SHWA, because Reiner clearly has no conception of what the blocking notes are actually supposed to be. Instead of writing in his own staging spots and directions from the crew, he writes his own commentary on the script. 
Eren flips to the marked page, the big reveal scene, and finds Reiner’s handwriting at the button. 
Reiner: I’m the Armored and he’s the Colossal. 
And underneath, Reiner’s inscription. 
fuck. 
He flips forward a few pages to find the Thank You Scene marked as well, his handwriting on the side. 
Eren: I’ll wrap that scarf around you, as many times as you want. 
And Bertholdt’s commentary. 
yall fucking? 
Eren snorts as he closes up the script, giving the two of them a smile, as Historia and Marco plant a gift in his lap next, skillfully packed in wrapping paper with his face on it. 
“I’m not sure if I should ruin something so perfect. I just look so good here-” 
“Eren. You’re a five on a good day.” Ymir responds, unbothered to look up from the game of soccer she was watching on the screen. 
Eren frowns as he opens up the gift, a glass showcase filled with polaroids. The first is a framed picture, one of the first of the entire cast. Underneath, Historia’s handwriting is inscribed, loopy letters spelling out Long Live. Eren smiles as he sets it to the side, observing Marco's gift. A Maya Angelou poetry book.
Eren gives the group of them a smile as he scans his eyes around the room, noticing the only face missing. The only one he was looking forward to seeing. Marco grabs his hand and drags him up the staircase, as he whispers over his shoulder. 
“She left a while ago to set up her gift for you. She should be in your room I think.” 
Eren’s nearly sprinting up the staircase as he pushes open the door, a defeated sigh leaving his lips when he stumbles in. There’s a half wrapped gift on the bed next to you, where you’re face down and fast asleep. He can see that you’re still in your party clothes - the dress and birthday hat still stuck to your head - as you nearly drool onto his sheets. 
“Nonsense, Eren. We’ll just wake her up, she was really excited to-” 
“No.” Eren responds. 
Marco swallows hard as he looks over at Eren, jaw half clenched and eyes narrowed down as he moves around him, shutting the door behind him. Eren carefully yanks the party hat and the shoes off your feet as he tucks you into the sheet properly, the tears burning his eyes. 
He takes the halfpacked gift and note from the bed, shutting the light off, as he escapes into your room to open them. To take a second, to calm whatever burning, irritating sensation is ripping his chest right now. 
The gift is a vinyl, the cover art is the same as the tattoos that you guys got together nearly two years ago. There’s a note inscribed on the front, your messy handwriting on the front. 
Eren. Our music is the best music. Here’s to many more to come :D 
He turns the vinyl over to find one song on each side - New Year’s Day on the front and Invisible String on the back. There’s a list of untitled listed underneath them, clearly meant to be future songs you and Eren write together. 
And all Eren can feel is despair. The gross, disgusting feeling that sits in his chest and never goes away is going to drag you down too. 
Isn’t it?
--
Nearly twenty four hours later and Eren’s standing on the other side of the red carpet, his palms sweaty and burning. He was supposed to walk out twenty minutes ago but his feet are glued to the foam, his throat dry. 
It always comes at the worst times. His birthday party, when he saw Zeke at Christmas, when he met Ricky James at the cocktail hour and then Gianna right after. 
Every little thing that’s been bothering Eren for the past day, the past few months is tumbling into this moment, where he’s staring at the red carpet and hearing the cameras flash behind the curtain but can’t summon his feet to move beyond them. 
Eren’s embarrassed. He’s ashamed. He’s trying. He’s trying to swallow it, trying to move his feet, to get out there to stand next to you. 
It’s humiliating. 
He feels a tap on his shoulder to find Armin at his side, readjusting the collar against his neck as he gives him a smile. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi Min.” 
“Can you do me a favor?” 
Eren tilts his head to the side as Armin gives him a smile, before turning his face back towards the curtain. 
“I hate walking on red carpets. But they’re easier when friends do them with me.” Armin responds. 
Eren sighs, a third person now catching on to him, as he stares at his shoelaces, evenly knotted against his leather shoes.
Is he that obvious? It's like it's written on his forehead.
“So, Eren?” 
“I-I don’t know if I can be a good friend right now, Armin. I think I should leave and-” 
“You’re the only friend I need. Just come on, okay? No one’s going to talk about Satellite Port, especially if I’m with you. They’re just going to try and wrangle spoilers out of you for the next season.” Armin responds, holding his hand out. 
Eren look down at his outstretched hand, blue eyes filled with such a vote of confidence that Eren agrees, stepping out into the flashing lights with Armin at his side, the two of them gaining a considerable amount of cheers as they walk out. 
Eren walks down with Armin, snapping a few pictures, before stopping to talk to a few of the interviewers, letting Armin carry the bulk of the weight as his mind spins in thirty different directions. About where he’s standing, if he should leave, how he’s a fraud and everything in between. 
Armin tugs him nearly all the way to the end as he pushes him into the auditorium, Eren’s chest heaving as he settles into his seat in between Hange and you, though your seat is still empty. 
“Eren. You okay?” 
Eren gives a halfhearted nod as Hange and Levi pinch their eyes in his direction, sharing a look, before leaning back in their chairs. Hange’s hand is squeezing his shoulder, which is all he tries to focus on as more people start piling in - cameras, lights, sounds getting brighter and brighter. 
Eren feels a tap on his shoulder to find you at his side now, a big smile on your face. 
“Oh my god. The interviewers out there were so fun.” 
“Yeah. Yeah, I really liked them.” 
He feels you pull for his hand, nestling it under the pleats of your dress, obscured from the public view, as you squeeze his hand three times. Eren tries to ignore the pounding, burning, twisting happening in his mind as he focuses on the announcer, giving his opening monologue. He’s clearly doing a bit of crowd work as he’s walking around, pointing and poking fun at the stars around him. 
And Eren’s worst fear is self-actualized when he walks over to the two of you, his voice booming in his ears as the lights flash in his face. He can feel Hange’s grip on his shoulder tighten as he starts talking. 
“Here we have an international pop-star, Y/N L/N. Originally a small town girl from Canada, her soft spoken love songs, phenomenal acting, and insane dance act have left no heart untouched.” 
Eren looks over to find your cheeks pink, a big smile spread on your face. He can’t help but smile - thinking about you crying in your room after your first panels to be what you are now. 
“And you. What’s your name again? It’s sweet they let fans sit with stars now.” the headliner asks him, eliciting a large amount of laughter from the crowd as he walks on. 
Eren swallows hard, his eyes and throat burning as he sounds echoes in his ears. 
It’s funny. It’s just a joke. It’s a joke because it’s funny that no one knows who he is. It’s funny because he’s no one compared to you and-
“I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.” Eren says, standing up and walking out. 
“Eren.”
He shakes your fingers off his wrist as he nearly springs out, loosening the tie around his throat and yanking the heavily starched collar around his neck. And it’s back. That sickening, sickening feeling in full flesh. The block in his chest, that’s stopping the breath from reaching his lungs - making his legs feel like lead, making every part of his brain feel heavy and his arms feel loose. 
Eren reaches for the closest room, an open bar playing a video of the ceremonies as he settles onto the bench, head pressed against the concrete as he murmurs out for a glass of water. 
Eren stays there - trying to feel the concrete cold against his forehead, his breath making his entire chest tremble, and his knuckles pressed white. He feels a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and lifts his head expecting Hange. 
Instead, he finds an older man - nearly in his fifties with gray hair smiling down at him. 
“Eren. It’s nice to see you again.” 
Eren lifts his head, trying to rack his fried brain from where he knows him. 
“You know, Eren. We’ve been in the same room hundreds of times. Yet, we’ve barely talked for two minutes.” 
“Ss-sorry. I don’t mean to-” 
“You and I could be really helpful to each other.” 
He slides over his card, the name gleaming back at him as the memory comes back. Years ago, at that panel, where he met him the first time. Scott Clarkson, the Stone Studios producer. 
“If you want your reputation back, if you don’t want to be the butt of the joke anymore, if you want to be the one talked about next to her instead of Ricky James, you’d give the number a call. Instead of ripping it half on principle this time.” 
Eren watches him slide off the bench, a smile pressed on his face, as he turns his face back to the screen, watching you accept the Best Actress in a Drama Series Role. He looks back down at the card, the silver shine reflecting on his face. 
Eren tucks it into his pocket. And calls the next day. 
It's the worst mistake he makes.
--
next part
taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @besenpai  @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes6 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo
300 notes · View notes
sleepingdeath-light · 11 months
Text
home again ; yandere!wally darling
Tumblr media
requested by ; anonymous (09/05/23)
word count ; 2031
content ; platonic yanderes, memory loss (the puppets all had their memories forcibly wiped), references to child/teen reader, obsessive protectiveness, author’s first time writing something platonic so… yeah
note ; i haven’t written anything like this before (sfw yandere stuff) so apologies if it seems a tad off. similarly i’m still adjusting to writing wally’s character in terms of dialogue and such, so that may also seem a smidge ooc.
fandom ; welcome home
pairing ; platonic wally darling x gender neutral!reader
read also on ; ao3
It was a beautifully melancholy evening: the stars and moon were obscured with thick, grey clouds that loomed overhead like ragged old curtains; the air was thick with dust and pollen that clung to your skin and clothes like a man hanging onto the edge of a steep cliff, digging their claws in and holding on with all the relentless might you’d come to hate; your room was only dimly illuminated by the pale blue light emanating from your monitor, the low hum of the vents the only sound to compliment the clicking of keys and the tapping of the mouse. Quiet, drab and dull; how very typical of spring.
But at the very least it gave you all the excuse you needed to sit behind a screen and doomscroll. Tired eyes skimming over articles and activists decrying the latest tragedy, thousands of crabs in the metaphorical bucket of social media all fighting for the attention of bystanders — only taking pause when you came across something all too familiar, yet at the same time entirely new.
‘Does anyone else remember Welcome Home? It was pretty popular when it aired back in the 70s and my friends and I are trying to create a complete archive for it’ — the caption read. Below it was a highlighted link and a picture that had been burned into your brain since childhood: bright swatches of paint adorning every surface, all seeing eyes as big as can be, and in front of it, that permanent smile carved into yellow felt. Wally Darling and Home, you remembered them both clearly enough — clearer than you’d have liked, even.
It had been decades since you’d actively thought back on Welcome Home, on your brief stint in stardom, and frankly you’d have rather it’d been kept that way. You still held a bit of a grudge over getting axed: ‘too mature’, yeah right! Every kid loves astrology and nobody is too old to talk about their feelings… you were only 14 for crying out loud! Too mature, your ass.
But perhaps, you reasoned, it wouldn’t be too bad to take a quick trip down memory lane. Sure you’d loved the show when it aired, but you stopped watching after your section was cut, so maybe it would be cool to see what changed in the interim — and, either way, your experiences would probably be helpful to the archivists. So no harm, no foul.
————
The site was easy enough to navigate but man you didn’t expect to get so emotional when you went looking through the recovered art. They looked exactly the same as you remembered, all of them — which is kind of silly to think about since puppets and tv show characters in general tend not to change since, well, they were meant to stay consistent. Frank was always going to look terribly stern, and Julie was always going to come onto scene with a new fabulous hairdo, and Eddie was always going to trip over his own feet on his rounds, and Wally was always going to open and close each episode with a nod to the audience. These things were staples of the characters and the show’s structure so of course they’d be the same.
But, still, you somehow felt like they should have changed in your absence. A small part of your mind, an irrational part surely, crying out that they were alive and that living things were made to change — which was silly. And, frankly, a little embarrassing that you’d even had that thought at all.
So you pushed that idea to the very back of your mind where it belonged and continued to scroll through the various pages of the website. Art from official books (you were sure you even owned the ‘ask Wally’ type book and that it was still at your parents’ place), merchandise like pop up figures (the sort that were found only in cereal boxes and magazines), promotional posters and even one piece from your short tenure on the show. You remembered posing for that photograph, being told to smile and to wrap your arms around Eddie and Wally — but for some reason you couldn’t quite recall what their puppeteers were called.
Or if they even had any puppeteers in the first place.
No. That can’t be right. They were puppets, characters, they had to have someone controlling and voicing them — but none of the promotional art nor your memories supported that basic truth. It didn’t make sense.
None of it made sense. This was why you’d tried to forget that show so desperately after you left. It messed with your head far too much to be worth the effort so why bother burning out over questions that could be explained by a faulty memory.
A memory that could, in picture perfect detail, recall the route from Howdy’s store to Home as clear as crystal — as if it were your own route to-and-from primary school. A memory that could replay patchy conversations between Wally and Julie, bittersweet bickering over hairspray and hairpins that you could only recall in pieces, but that still rang clearly as if you were thinking of childhood friends. A memory that was imprinted with the feeling of warm felt embraces and puffs of warm air from stencil cut mouths that would have been impossible if they weren’t alive. Moving eyes, small bodies, freely walking, freely talking — alive and well and clear as day in your mind as normally as recalling your parents arguing over a cup of freshly brewed coffee on the mornings of each shoot.
The distinctly strong smell of the synthetic hairspray Wally used that would hang around him and mixed with the scent of oil paint like a cologne — that burned your nose if you hung around too close to him in the early morning. The sheer joy of Howdy picking you up and tossing you in the air as a congratulations for your first scene done well — caterpillar fuzz that stuck to your clothes for days, as strong as velcro. The way you and Julie squealed when Barnaby shook back and forth and sent droplets of muddy water raining down on you and on her freshly done up hair — and the joke that followed her exasperated tirade as you, through giggles, explained frustration to the audience through a camera they seemed to not be able to see.
Memories that kept unearthing themselves the deeper you went into the site, eventually culminating with you tearing up at the sight of old friends you’d been forced to leave behind. Silly, perhaps, but you recall telling the audience that it was healthy to cry and to let it all go — so at least your teenage self would be proud of your emotional vulnerability.
After a good hour of this, and more than in need of a break, you finally clicked on the attached message board and typed up a simple few sentences. A greeting and a farewell all in one before you closed down your computer and went to bed.
‘I used to have a segment on Welcome Home when I was a kid. I was meant to do astrology and emotions, before I got cut for being too old lol. This brought back so many memories. Thank you, all.’
————
Wally hadn’t meant to linger — really, he hadn’t — but there had been something oddly familiar about his latest visitor that he couldn’t quite place. Even from behind the screen he was trapped within, even as he watched their message load in, he could tell that they were different. It was their eyes, those tearful knowing eyes — he was sure he’d seen them before in that somewhere different, somewhere brighter, that came before the end he and his neighbours were trapped in.
When he saw their eyes he saw himself, a twisted altered reflection of himself that was filled to bursting with the warmth and awareness that he was created to hold within himself. A child’s eyes in the form of someone who he didn’t know yet he knew he must have once. A lingering, niggling feeling in the back of his skull, like fingertips brushing and scratching and digging into his fabric brain — rearranging and scouring and destroying and reaching for something that he couldn’t quite find.
He winced and squinted and stared through the screen to no avail, tilting his head and watching them as they flicked from screen to screen to screen desperate for a sign that he could use to place this familiar stranger. Unable to do so until finally — finally — their note came through and he was able to read the short greeting they’d left behind.
Then, and only then, did those forbidden memories come flooding back. A formidable tidal wave, a whirling rapid, of bright lights and experiences and conversations that had been torn from him and shredded in the writer’s room of their long gone creators.
He knew you, he’d always known you; the child too old for their youth that visited their neighbourhood in the beginning. Who always wore a beaming smile and treated them all with a grace beyond their years, spreading kindness and joy to his friends and to the audience only the two of you knew about. Who was far taller than his measly 12 apples of verticality but who never made him feel small. Who spoke eagerly of the constellations and painted the most wonderful pictures of stars and moons and planets far beyond their reach that he did his best to capture in his paintings. Who was only 14 but felt more like an adult than he did sometimes — he, who was crafted and sewn without a childhood — but who wasn’t above play and foley.
The child who was the absolute most; his favourite transient neighbour. All of their’s, actually.
How could he possibly have forgotten you?
You with your broad toothy grins, and your warm eyes that shone brighter than the stars you loved, and your arms that were big enough to carry even more apples than he could have ever dreamed of. You, who he promised to protect and keep away from the horrors of the world, theirs and your own. You, who never turned down a favour or plea from his neighbours.
You. Just you.
Wonderful, lovable, unforgettable you. His child of flesh, not felt, but he loved you all the same.
And he didn’t get to see you grow up, because his creators deemed you unbefitting of their world and cut you from their memories as ruthlessly as they’d cut your segments from their show. Welcome Home didn’t feel very much like a home after that — even if they didn’t quite recall what was missing.
Wally didn’t even want to think about all of the horrors and harms you’d faced throughout the years you’d been apart — he could see the wear hanging heavily in the downwards quirk of your lips and the dampened glint in your eye. He knew he’d sooner kill someone than let them hurt you, he’d threatened it plenty alongside Howdy and Eddie and Frank — they all loved you as dearly as him, once.
But in his current predicament he couldn’t do much to protect you. Couldn’t coddle you, couldn’t warm you, couldn’t sooth you with those sweets you used to love (if you even loved them anymore, it had clearly been quite some time), couldn’t do anything to help. He couldn’t even communicate with you, to apologise, to tell you he still loved you and that you were still welcome in their neighbourhood.
So he did the only thing he could; he drew you a picture. A silly little simplistic drawing, scratchy and crude, depicting a strong memory he had of you. The two of you, hand in hand, with your arms overflowing with apples you’d managed to steal from Howdy (oh how he missed such trivial things) — he hoped you remembered these moments as fondly as he did. Then, to the illustration, he attached a small message, a plea just for you, before settling back down behind the screen and hoping — praying — that you’d come back.
‘I’m sorry for forgetting you, friend, please come home’
427 notes · View notes
joels-shitty-puns · 4 months
Text
The Key To Your Heart - Track 9
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader
Tumblr media
Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.
Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Panic/Anxiety attack. Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).
Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!
Word Count: 2.7K
Series List: Here!
Miss Chapter 8? Here!
Hi everyone!! I really don't feel great about this chapter, I'm sorry if it sucks. I kinda just want to get it out there though because I don't see my brain thinking up anything better. A lot of writer's block surrounding this scene. Anywho, hopefully next chapter will be better, but I still hope you like it. Although we allude to a little bit of sexual situations now that they are together, I likely will avoid explicit smut being that Pedro is a real human and I am a guilty, guilty human for writing any smut at all. I don't want to offend Pedro (not that he'd ever see it anyway, I am delusional), but I also know people find real person fiction uncomfy as a whole. That being said, I think this story may be coming to a close pretty soon. I plan to have maybe one more full storyline chapter, and at least one little side bonus chapter :) Please let me know what you think in the comments, or DM me if you wanna chat! I love hearing all your thoughts. Thank you for reading and hanging in here with me.
Tumblr media
Before the screen even had a chance to load, you canceled the request. Nervously looking at Pedro, he held your hand under the table. “What is it?” he asked gently.
“I just realized,” you replied. “What if they ask about us? About those pictures? What should I say?”
Pedro answered with a gentle stroke of his thumb on your cheek. “Whatever you feel comfortable with. I'm sure I'll be fine with whatever you say, baby. I know your privacy is important to you, and I trust you. I'm all in with you.”
“Okay.” You took a deep breath and once again began the stream.
“Live in 3…”
“2…”
“1…”
The fans began to file in, and before you knew it, you had thousands of viewers. Opting to start with your screen covered, you wanted to give an intro first before the big reveal. 
It wasn't long before the comments flowed across the screen. 
You took a deep breath, squeezing Pedro’s hand, and jumping in. “Hi everyone! It's me… a lot has been happening lately and I decided it might be time to show a little more of myself.”
-“First!”
-“Did she mean to start a live video ??"
-"Hiii! I'm a big fan"
-“Is she there??”
-“Do you guys see anything?”
“So… Here's me.” You turned on your camera, waving at the screen, your stomach twisting in deeper knots.
-“No fucking way.”
-“!?!!!!!”
-“SCREAMING”
“Hi… Some of you might know me, some might be surprised. But this is me. This is the girl behind the music.”
The comments flooded in, entirely too fast for you to read.
“I want to thank all of you for being fans and listening to my songs. It really means a lot and I hope you liked the album. Your support blows me away, especially with what little information about myself I've given.”
More comments.
“Well, I uh… guess I should read some of these comments and answer some questions. I'm sure there’s a lot you all are wondering about,” you stated nervously, starting to read.
-“Why did you hide your identity?”
“Why did I hide my identity… I hid my identity mostly based on poor self image. I never expected my music to gain popularity, never expected celebrities to know it. Never expected any of it, and it certainly brought its share of criticism. I was scared to be in the spotlight and I didn't feel like I looked good enough to be someone famous. You know? I'm not skinny, I have flaws, and that doesn't always sit well with the Internet. I guess I was mainly scared of how I would be perceived. I'm just a normal girl who had her whole life flipped upside down when I wrote my feelings down,” you laughed anxiously.
Choosing to ignore the storm brewing in the comments below, you addressed the earlier comment. “Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad I can make you feel more accepted by seeing more plus-sized people in the entertainment business. Everyone should feel seen and have a place at the table, no matter what you look like, or who you are.”
-“I think it's nice to have more celebrities that look kinda like me.”
-“You're so humble!!”
-“You should've stayed hidden lmao”
-“Shut up, asshole. Why are you here if you're going to be rude?”
-“I'm sure you're a real supermodel behind that keyboard bravery.. smh”
You weren't expecting someone to actually feel like you were representing them and making them feel seen. You didn't think you had enough of an impact for that. You certainly weren't treated that way when you weren't famous. Nobody really even noticed you before.
You could feel Pedro’s eyes on your face, his thumb swirling circles and hearts over the space of skin on the top of your hand, below your thumb. The place where his bullseye resides on his own. Does he trace that tattoo when he's nervous, the same way he is with me? Perhaps his tracing of your hand is calming himself as much as it is for you.
Desperately, you wanted to look over at him and be comforted by his deep brown eyes, but doing so would cause people to wonder who you made eye contact with and smiled at. So instead, you gave a gentle squeeze and a smile towards the screen, hoping he would understand. 
-“Hi, I'm a big fan of yours. Can I ask… is what you said on your album true? You've never been kissed before? I haven't either and I was starting to feel like I'm just a freak.”
“Oh, honey, you aren't a freak. Everyone has things happen at different times in their life. But yes, everything I wrote in my album at the time I wrote it was true. And don't worry, I have felt the same way. Seeing others be kissed, falling in love… having the things I wasn't, it really hurts. But it'll be okay.. nothing is wrong with you. You're deserving of love.”
You hoped they wouldn't pick up on your usage of past-tense wording. Pedro, still holding your hand, rubbed his other hand over your arm gently.
-“Wait… at the time you wrote it? What about now?”
The comments were going wild.
Welp…
Your hands shook, and you used your opposite hand to place on top of Pedro’s that gripped yours. He squeezed gently, feeling the nervous tremors pass through your body, continuing to rub gentle strokes over your arm with his opposite hand.
“Uhm…” your cheeks heated and your stomach sank.
“I've changed a lot since this album was first written. Experienced new things. But I'm still the same person.”
Shit.
-“Who did you kiss?! Is it the guy in your song?”
-“Will you tell us who the song is about?”
-“Wait a second… you're that girl aren't you!?!!!! The one in the pictures with Pedro Pascal!!!!”
-“OMG IT IS”
-“!!!!!!!”
-“IS HE THE GUY!?!”
-“ARE YOU DATING!?!”
The nervous tremors continued, now threatening to cause your teeth to chatter. A full panic attack was brewing. Pedro squeezed your hand again, touching your knee and trying to do his best to ground you without speaking up on your live video. Skipper could feel the waves of anxiousness pooling off of you as well and crawled forward to settle his body across your feet. You took a few calming breaths, but when you went to speak, your voice still betrayed you.
“I..” your voice cracked, shakiness evident as you could feel tears starting to edge their way towards your vision.
I can't do this. I can't do this. I need to shut it off.
You shut your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to ease your nausea and stress. 
Keeping your eyes closed, you spoke. “Yes.”
You took another deep breath. “Yes it was me, yes the song was about him. Yes.”
You opened your eyes to read the comments, tears pooling down your cheeks as you couldn't hold back your emotion anymore.
This is so embarrassing. The first time I show my face I'm crying and having an anxiety attack in front of the whole world.
You swallowed, choking back the full sobs that your body wanted to let loose. Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you began to read the comments, expecting laughter, criticism, and bullying. Instead, you were met with kindness.
Coming back to your senses, you gave a shaky smile. “Thank you guys. I'm sorry for my emotions.” You sniffled. Pedro was still rubbing your hands and arms, comforting you, having never stopped. His eyes still bore into the side of your head, and you knew he was struggling to not speak up or grab you fully. 
-“Oh my God, are you okay?”
-“I didn't mean to make you cry I'm so sorry”
-“You and Pedro make a cute couple”
-“Oh no, please don't cry”
-“Idk if you guys are dating but you seem cute”
-“I'm so glad you guys are spending time together when he's the guy in your song”
-“It'll be okay, please don't be upset”
-“You're amazing, we love you”
“Yes, Pedro and I have been spending a lot of time talking after he publicly commented on my song a few months ago. The party was the first time we met in person and we're still figuring things out,” you let go of your worries and broke eye contact with the camera, looking to your side to meet Pedro’s gaze. “But… we're happy.” You smiled at him. He smiled back gently, squeezing your hand, worry and sadness plaguing his face over your well-being. Breaking eye contact, you looked back at the screen.
You giggled before answering “well, I think that's all we have time for today. Thank you all for joining me!” You silently clicked off the stream, closing the browser, turning off the computer, and turning to Pedro. He grabbed your other hand in his, now holding both. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern etched in his face.
-“AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”
-“IS HE THERE WITH YOU!?!”
-“whaaaaat”
-“SCREAMING”
-“Shut. Up. This is insane.”
-“YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE I CAN'T TAKE IT”
“I think so,” you nodded.
“Seeing you panic and not being able to do anything without potentially making it worse… It killed me. I'm so sorry. I just wanted to pull you into my arms and end that video myself. I hated seeing you so upset.” He stared down at your intertwined hands, rubbing his thumb over them again. 
“I appreciate you being here for me,” you let go of his hand to stroke his cheek. “I couldn't have done that without you.” You met his eyes, leaning forward to rest against his forehead. He let out a shaky breath. “I love you. I'm so proud of you.”
“I love you too,” you replied with a smile. “Let's move to the couch, huh?” You asked, pulling him up from the chair. He stood, just as your phone rang, a call from Rose. You quickly answered.
“I saw the live stream. You did wonderful! Don't worry about any of the negative comments you saw or any stories that come out of this. I'll handle it all.”
“Thanks, Rose.”
“Anytime. Take care.” She hung up.
You updated Pedro as the two of you walked towards the couch. “Do you want breakfast?” He asked.
“Maybe in a minute. Can I just hold onto you for a few minutes?”
“I would love nothing more.”
He sat on the couch, you sitting next to him, before he gave you a look. “What?” you laughed. He patted his leg.
“Let me hold you.”
“I'm too heavy for that Pedro, don't be ridiculous,” you shook your head.
“You're the one being ridiculous.” He reached over, pulling you into his lap. “I'm too heavy! You're going to hurt yourself,” you whined.
“You're not too heavy. You're the perfect size, baby. Come here,” he pulled you forward, your body sliding down his thighs as he wrapped his arms around you. You straddled his lap, knees on either side of his hips while he rubbed your back gently. You placed your arms around him, nuzzling into his neck and closing your eyes. You both sighed, and he grabbed a blanket next to him to pull over your bodies. “I could stay like this for hours, wrapped in your arms” you sighed comfortably. 
“Why don't you?” He turned his head to kiss your lips. You lifted your face up, taking your head off his shoulder to kiss him deeper. The kisses were lazy and comfortable, holding each other and enjoying the warmth of being in each other's arms.
Finally the two of you broke the kiss, settling back on his shoulder, him tilting his head to lean against yours. His hands sprawled over your back, pulling you forward a bit to adjust in his lap. You let out a soft whimper at the contact, fully aware of the location your bodies connected at the moment. “Feel how much you mean to me?” He asked, his breath ghosting your ear as he pulled your hips forward again. You whined. “Yes..” you answered breathlessly. The temptation to keep doing that was overwhelming. But he once again wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back as the two of you comfortably dozed off, finally relaxed after so much stress of the morning.
Tumblr media
Hours later, you stirred, feeling Pedro still underneath you. At the feel of you moving, he stretched a bit before settling with his arms around you again. “Morning, baby” he hummed. “Guess we fell asleep,” you smiled.
“Some of the best sleep I've had in a while, here with you.”
“Same here.” You blinked your eyes open, kissing him on the lips with a peck. “What time is it?”
He turned his head to look at the clock on your TV. “5 o’clock” he laughed. “Guess we both needed some rest.” 
“Mmmm, I guess so,” you hummed, settling into him more.
“Good thing I brought nonperishables. Are you hungry?”
You pondered. “Yeah, I am,” you looked into his deep brown eyes. “Breakfast for dinner?” You smiled at him.
“Sounds perfect.” He pecked your lips before you slid off his lap, the two of you standing to stretch. It wasn't long that you two stood apart before you leapt forward again to give him a hug. He laughed, hugging you back. “I'll never get tired of being in your arms,” you smiled into his chest, breathing in his scent.
“I'll never get tired of holding you in mine,” he pulled his face back to look at you.
“Now let's eat! I'm starved,” you scampered towards the kitchen, him giving a gentle pat to your butt before hugging you from behind as you grabbed the breakfast foods. You giggled, setting food on plates as he kissed your neck, still wrapped around you from behind. “I'm starving too,” he replied back to your earlier statement with a growl, biting your ear.
“Pedro!” You giggled, smacking his arm gently. He chuckled, pulling away and grabbing his plate as you both headed to the table.
The two of you ate, filling the space with light conversation, both of you occasionally sneaking Skipper some bites under the table. He could get used to having two humans spoiling him.
The chatter came to a natural pause, eating in silence and smiling at each other across the table. Pedro stopped eating, wiping his hands and continuing to stare at you. You laughed, asking him what was up. Suddenly, he looked nervous.
“I, uh…” he rubbed his neck. “I was going to wait until after we had at least a first date to say this, but…” he trailed off, and your mind spiraled. Is he breaking up with me? Is he not interested anymore? What's wrong?
“I was wondering if… you'd be my girlfriend? Exclusively?” His cheeks flushed.
You stammered, dropping your fork on the plate. “You… you want… me to be your girlfriend?” You smiled.
He nodded. “If… you'll have me.”
“You want to be my boyfriend?” He nodded again, looking down at the table.
“Yes. Yes, are you kidding? Please! I'd love nothing more.” You grinned, jumping out of your chair to move to him.
He stood, pulling you into a hug. “Really?” He smiled at you.
“Really,” you nodded. “Now kiss me,” you held his face.
“Gladly,” he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply, his tongue asking for entrance to your mouth. You squealed, surprised, but letting him in. You'd never experienced this sensation before. But it was… incredible.
He licked your lips, the two of you exploring the inside of each other's mouths, tongues dancing together. The kiss was heated and deeper than ever before, both of you finally pulling away for air, him coming back in to peck your lips a few times, sucking your lip between his own. You sighed shakily. “Wow.”
“I love kissing you,” he smiled against your lips.
“I love kissing you. You're a good kisser,” you smiled back.
“So are you,” he smirked. “My beautiful girlfriend.” He gave a kiss. “How about that date tomorrow?” He pulled away to look at you, letting his hand rub across your lower back, just above your butt.
“I'd love to,” you stroked his face. “My handsome boyfriend.” You wrapped your arms around him again, blissfully.
“Tomorrow,” you two sighed in unison.
Tumblr media
@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @leiadjarin @hmneighbors
Thank you for reading!!! Let me know what you think ❤️
Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)
148 notes · View notes