#I just sit there and provide occasional comments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugarnspice630 · 28 days

Text

Fancall Fiasco - Hongjoong

"Fan service my ass! Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?"

•pairing: meandom!nonidol!hongjoong x idol!fem!reader

•word count: 4k

•tags: reader has an idol stage name that they go by, established relationship, mdni, smut, dirty filthy pure smut, possesive and MEAN hongjoong, degradation, name calling (whore, slut, cheater, etc), hair pulling, oral (m&f receiving), deep throating, belt restraints, spanking, slight spitting, edging, overstimulation, biting/marking up (f receiving), slight cnc(?)...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: Being an idol, you have to provide fan service to your loyal followers, however your boyfriend thinks you went a little too far with this one male fan and decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

A/N: Phew howdy this is FILTHYYYY! Longest fic I've ever written too I think. After my call with Hongjoong, I couldn't stop thinking about if the roles were reversed and he got all jealous and possessive...Definitely need him to treat me this way. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Your group recently had a comeback, and to promote album sales and meet your amazing fans, you were doing 2-3 fancall events every single day. It was exhausting to see some familiar faces and having to talk to the same person multiple times in one day, but as an idol, you have to put up with that kind of stuff and just do your job.

The outfit your stylist put you in was super edgy and went with the concept for your recent album. It was a little revealing, but you didn’t mind too much cause you felt pretty. A black crop top with a metal o-ring right in the middle of your chest, a hooded top with the shoulders exposed that had grommets and rings down the arms, and connected to this ring on the hoodie top were two belt-like chains that went down your sides and hooked together in the back underneath the hood. Many of the fans you talked to today, mostly men, but occasional female fans, complimented you and said how beautiful you looked today. It was always refreshing getting to talk to the fellow female fans, as it felt more like girlhood than the male fans just trying to get in your pants. Although there was this one fan in particular, that was unbelievably handsome. After the staff member removed the paper from the camera, you were met with a gorgeous man, around the same age as you, you assumed.

“A-ah! H-Hi Hana!” He waved to you and seemed slightly nervous.

“Hi there-!” You quickly glanced down at your note, sitting next to the album you were supposed to sign for the fan. “Felix! So nice to meet you!” You said with a smile and waved with your free hand. You stared back at the fan with sparkling eyes, and your head tilted to the side as he waved back to you.

“I’m so excited to talk to you today…ah sorry, I’m so nervous.” He covered his face with his hands but left his eyes visible so he could stare at you.

"Ahh, don’t be nervous; I’m excited to talk to you too. Actually, you’re very handsome.” You said with a smirk and leaned closer to the camera. You watched as the fan lit up with excitement and heard a tiny gasp come from him.

“Oh- t-thank you so much. Y-you’re very pretty too.”

“Oh am I~? That’s so nice to hear. Thank you so much.” You continued to smile and bat your eyes at the fan, enjoying how flustered you were making him.

“Y-yes, I actually had a question for you, if I can ask.”

“Yes of course!” You took this opportunity to look down at the album, pick your favorite picture from this specific version of the album, and place your signature in the corner, along with a couple hearts for some fan service. The fan asked their question while you were signing.

“I was wondering how you came up with your stage name?” Ah yes, the question many fans ask you because they love to hear the clever response that you came up with.

“Ahh actually, so the number 1 in Korean is "hana,” and it has a lot of importance to me. It’s my favorite number, I was the first person to join our group, and I know I’ll always be the number 1 in your heart.” You took your time saying your response to drag out the time, looking around the room to pretend you were thinking about it, and then at the very end flashed a finger heart and a wink to the fan, to which he melted and covered his face with his hands again.

“Wow…you’re so cool Hana and so pretty.”

“Thank you so much!” You covered your smile with your hand to act all shy and cutesy. As the fans say, the company's rent was due, your fan service today has been insanely good. You heard the familiar sound of the timer going off, meaning the call was coming to an end. “Aww I’m so sorry Felix our time is up.” You said with a pout and brought your hands to a praying motion.

“Aww okay. Bye Hana! Thank you so much!” He waved to you and smiled.

“Bye handsome! Thank you!” You winked one last time as you waved, and the staff covered the camera with paper and ended the call. You made sure the call was done before you let out a sigh of relief and dropped your smile. The staff member that was helping you out for the day just smiled and chuckled the slightest bit.

“You were working hard there.” She said as she grabbed the album from you, placed the sticky note with the fan's order on it, and set it off to the side.

“Ahh yeah, he was cute though! Very sweet boy. It’s fans like that that make me love my job.” You took a couple sips out of the water bottle the staff provided for you and relaxed for a few seconds before the next call started.

–

The events were done for the day, and exhausted was an understatement. You bowed to the event staff and thanked them many times before making your way out of the room and following your manager back to the designated room for your group. You quickly glanced at your phone and saw a message from your boyfriend.

Your blood ran cold. He sounded so serious. What could you have possibly done? I guess you were going to find out when you got back to your apartment. You and Hongjoong had plans to meet up after your schedules today anyway.

–

You got back to your apartment, finally wearing some comfortable clothes. You walked into the front door, took your jacket off, and started to kick your shoes off before shouting out to your boyfriend, who was hiding somewhere.

“Hongjoong! I’m bac-!” Your words were cut off by Hongjoong pressing you against the wall. His one hand grips onto your shoulder to keep you against the hard surface, and the other hand holds his phone and shoves the screen in your face.

“What the fuck is this?” He said lowly and through gritted teeth. You glanced over at the screen, breathing heavily, and saw a familiar-looking face on his screen. The video was from one of the many fan calls you had today. Specifically the really nice looking one. What was his name? Ah right, Felix.

“I don’t understand…”

“Don't play dumb with me Y/N! You’re practically fucking him through the screen!”

“N-no Hongjoong..what? L-let me see.” You reached up, took the phone from his hand, and read the post the fan had made to yourself.

The attached video had no sound, but subtitles were provided. You reviewed the video and smirked to yourself, watching the fan get all nervous and flustered again at your fan service. That’s exactly all it was. Fan service. You scrolled through some of the comments that had been made on that post by other fans.

Waahhh, omg you’re so lucky!!

SHE IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU! IMAGINE BEING CALLED HANDSOME BY HANA? GOD YOU’RE SO LUCKY

Ohhh she wants you fr fr

You smirked again and lightly scoffed at the various reactions from your fans. When you looked back up at Hongjoong to hand him his phone back, his arms were crossed, his breathing was deep and heavy, and he stared at you with aggressive eyes.

“B-baby it’s just fan service.”

“Fan service my ass!” He snatched his phone back from your hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?”

“Hongjoong no, you don’t have to do that. I-I know that-.” Your words were cut off again by Hongjoong pushing you back against the wall again and slamming his lips onto yours. The grip he had on your arms was enough to hurt a little bit, and you squirmed at the uncomfortable feeling. “J-Joong.”

“Shut the fuck up cheater, or I’ll shove something in your mouth to make you shut up.” His behavior was so left-field for you, and you didn’t know how to feel. If you wanted to be truly honest, his possessive nature was making your pussy ache and damp.

“I didn’t d-do anything wrong!”

“Didn’t do anything wrong….listen to yourself!” He yelled slightly and slid his hands down to grab both of your wrists, then slammed them up against the wall. He pressed his body frame against you, so you were completely against the wall. His face is right in your face, leaving no room for personal space. “I fucking own you; you got that? You’re mine, and when I see you flirting and undressing your fans with those seductive eyes of yours..I get a little…pissed off. So now, I have to make sure you haven’t forgotten exactly who you belong to.”

“Hongjoong I-.” Your heart was beating rapidly, and you did not know what else to say or do. He waited for you to try to say another smart remark before he took your hands held above your head, held them in one hand, and pulled you along as he started stomping toward your room. “Stop! What are you doing?”

“Teaching you a fucking lesson.” He threw his arm forward, which resulted in you stumbling forward and dropping down at the edge of the bed. He stepped back and ripped his shirt off over his head and, with one hand, threw it to the side of the room. You were propping yourself up with one arm and leaning back onto the bed as he walked closer to you. He grabbed the bottom of your chin and forced your face to look up at him. Taking a few seconds to look at your face and smile slyly.

“Are you scared of what I am capable of, Y/N?” You shook your head from side to side in response. “Use your fucking words slut.”

“N-no!” You stuttered out.

“You don’t sound so confident~.”

“I’m not scared of you!” You retaliated, but he just smirked at you.

“Guess I'll have to make you scared of me then.” Not a moment passed before he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off the bed, down on your knees, onto the floor in front of him. You winced from the pain as he dragged you down. You tilted your head up to look at him, hoping your expression would fill him with remorse. “Pathetic really. You think looking at me like that will make me forget what you did today? Think again.” As he spoke, his free hand fought with his belt to get it off. He snapped the belt to the side, almost like a whip, and squatted down to be in front of you. You dared not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes piercing into you. You felt his hand release from your hair. He tenderly traced his hands along your arms and brought them together, holding your wrists together again with his hands.

“I don’t want you fucking touching me, so this is how I’ll fix that.” He took the belt and tightened it harshly around your wrists, pulling the belt tought and wrapping it a few times, allowing the end of the belt to stick out as a grip for him to hold onto. He stood back up and pulled your arms up with the belt. Your head rag dolled with your arms being pulled up. At this point, you had given in to him and were ready to accept whatever punishment he was giving you right now.

Your eyes followed his hand, which was not holding your restraint, and your eyes were led to the zipper on his pants. He pulled the zipper down and shimmed his pants down just barely past his hips, enough for him to be able to whip his cock out.

“Open up whore.” He demanded, and you found yourself quickly obeying. He raised the arm holding your restraint a little higher before shoving his cock directly into your mouth. Pushing himself all the way in, not allowing you to prepare yourself at all. Your eyes immediately filled with tears, and you tried your best not to gag. Hongjoong had an average-sized cock, but that doesn't mean it was easy for you to take him. You heard Hongjoong groan above you, and you glanced up at him to see the look on his face. His head was tilted back slightly, and his mouth was agape just the slightest bit.

“God I’m gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna fuck this little throat of yours so good it’ll be hard for you to sing at your precious music show tomorrow.” You whimpered at his dirty talk, but also because your voice is an extremely valued asset to your group, and if you can’t perform at your best, it will definitely not go unnoticed. He shoved himself further inside your mouth, and you couldn’t help but gag so hard that you started to cough. You pulled yourself off and back away from him, and you continued coughing until you felt better. Hongjoong scoffed at you.

“Unbelievable.”

“Joongie please…” Your voice is nearly above a whisper, still trying to come back to you after having his dick deep in your throat. Your eyes are now bloodshot and watery, looking at him hoping he’ll feel some sympathy and realize he's going a little too hard on you.

“You should have thought about the consequences before flirting with that fan baby.” He shrugs and dismisses your cry for help. You braced yourself, thinking he was going to shove himself back inside your throat, but to your surprise, he pulled you up by the belt restraint, so you were standing up. He steadied you by placing his free hand on your shoulder and looking at you deep in the eyes. “You’re lucky I actually give a shit about your career. Be thankful I don’t completely ruin your fragile ass.” He tilted his head while talking to you, smirking at the end of his sentence.

“Y-yes, thank you.”

“Shut up. That wasn’t an invitation.” He unexpectedly let go of the belt, and your arms fell down in front of you, hitting the front of your crotch. You whimpered at the impact and felt the blood rush back into your arms. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pushed you, so you fell back onto the bed. Letting out a grunt when your back made contact with the mattress. Hongjoong stepped closer to the bed and gripped onto your sweatpants.

“I don’t want to hear another sound out of you, got it?” You opened your mouth to agree, but quickly closed it and nodded your head instead. "Finally, you got some sense knocked into you.” He pulled your sweatpants down, and you heard a soft chuckle come out of him. “My my, you’ve made a mess down here already.” You wanted to squirm, but his grip on your legs prevented you from doing so. Your struggle must have said enough because he took two of his fingers and placed them on the wet patch on your underwear. The room was quiet enough that you could hear the squishing sound of your wetness spreading even more, completely soaking your undergarments.

“You like me treating you like this, huh?” He said as he pushed his fingers into you harder. You bit your lip to suppress the whimper that so desperately wanted to come out. His two fingers finding your clit through your underwear and massaging it delicately. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip harder. You arched your back slightly and tilted your head into the bed.

“Look at you getting all needy for me now. Bet you were not thinking about me when talking to that boy toy of yours.” His tone was so condescending. You had really pissed him off, and he was going to make sure you knew and remembered who you belonged to. He removed his fingers from your clothed pussy and pulled them down. Completely removing those and your sweatpants in the process. You felt the cold air of the room blow across your bare area and got cold chills on your body. He harshly gripped your thighs and pulled your legs further apart, completely exposing yourself to him. You felt his warm breath against you as he leaned in closer. He pushes your legs apart a little more, and you whimper at the pain of being overstretched. Hongjoong hears your whimper and slaps the side of your leg with his hand.

“I thought I told you to stay quiet.”

“S-sorry.” You muttered and felt Hongjoong slap your side again, harder than the last time. Next thing you know, he dives his tongue straight into your pussy, licking and sliding his mouth everywhere. His warm tongue collects all of your juices that have recently come out. He swirls your fluids around in his mouth and spits it right back out onto you, licking and lapping it up all over again. His nose is pushing right onto your clit. You so badly want to take your hands and grip the side of his hair, but with your hands tied, you can’t. Your body writhes and squirms underneath him, and with every movement you make, you feel him pushing that side of you back down to keep you secured to the bed. He continues to lick and tongue-fuck you, too enthralled in your pussy to notice all of the soft whimpers and moans you have been letting out. You feel a knot begin to form in your lower stomach, but just as you are about to go over the edge, Hongjoong pulls away from you. You tilt your head down to look at him, breathing heavily and wondering why he stopped. He looks back at you and uses his tongue to lick your excessive fluids that have built up around his lips. Pulling his tongue back in and letting it rest against his teeth as he smirks at you, looking at him with desperation and confusion.

“Oh I’m sorry. Did you really think I was going to let you cum that easily? This is your punishment whore. Nothing good will come out of this, you hear me?”

You pouted and wiggled your arms to try to prop yourself up. You just wanted to cum so badly and get this punishment over with. Hongjoong takes this time to grab your sides and flip you over onto your stomach. Your legs are still dangling off the edge of the bed, and you feel him spread your legs apart a little bit with his hands and nuzzle himself in between. He glides his hand up your right thigh and caresses your ass cheek.

“Such a pretty ass, but it’ll look even better with my handprints all over it. Wouldn’t you agree?” You wiggled your hips to agree with him. He firmly grips your cheek before pulling his hand away and forcing it back down onto your ass. He watches as the skin, fat, and muscle recoil from the slap. You push your head into the bed to muffle any sounds that might come out of your mouth. Hongjoong not being satisfied with his work yet, lifted his hand up again and smacked your ass harshly for the second time. You started to feel the stinging and burning feeling. Your ass was now a pretty shade of pink, but Hongjoong was still not satisfied. He lifted his hand one more time and put all his effort into slapping your ass again. You heard him grunt as he swung his arm down. Putting all of his force into smacking you. You pushed your hips back, unintentionally asking him for more.

“It’s funny you think I’m going to give you what you want. Really? After what you did today?” Hongjoong massaged your stinging and red cheek as he said this, and you softly moaned at the feeling. Finally being able to feel some comfort after a couple minutes of pain. Hongjoong flips you around again and leans down, placing his arms on both sides of you to support himself. He reaches for the belt restraint and takes it off of you.

“This is not an invitation for you to touch me, got it?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whispered as you nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. He smirks for a second and tosses the belt to the side of the room. He places one arm back at your side while the other hand touches his cock to guide himself into you. Instead of slamming himself inside of you like before, he slowly inserts his dick into you. Your walls swallow him, and you can feel every vein on his cock. He removes his hand from his dick as he goes further in and places it beside you on the other side.

“God dammit you’re so tight.” He growls through gritted teeth. Pushing himself all the way, slowly. You squeeze your eyes shut as he fills you nicely. Happy to finally have his cock inside you after him edging you. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, unsure of where to put them since you can’t put them on Hongjoong like you normally would.

“I’m gonna drill myself so far into you that you’ll still feel me inside you days later. So you can never forget me. Huh? Remember? You’re mine Y/N. You’re my toy to fuck and play with. Think about that the next time you want to whore yourself out to your fans. I bet he couldn’t fuck you like I could. No, he couldn’t. Cause if he even remotely got close to you, he’d be gone in seconds. No one touches you except for me. You got that? Mine…you’re fucking mine!” Hongjoong spouts off, getting increasingly louder and harder with his thrusts. He has fully leaned his body down onto you, so you are chest to chest. His dick keeps drilling inside you, and your head is spinning. His dirty and possessive words go straight to your core.

“Hongjoong-”

"Yeah, fucking say my name. Who’s fucking you this good?”

“Hongjoong!”

“That’s right you slut!” He thrusts himself into you harder and faster. You feel your orgasm building up again. You so desperately want to grab onto his arms and hold onto him as you’re cumming. Hongjoong dives his head into your neck and kisses and nips at your skin, surely leaving little marks on your skin.

“S-stop! Tomorrow…schedule!” You plead, trying to tell him not to mark up your skin since you have performances to do the next day.

“No! I’m letting all of your precious fans know you’re already taken, and there is no chance of them being able to get with you.” He mutters seductively against your neck. A few more thrusts and neck kisses, and your release bubbles out of you. You cry out his name, each one louder than the last, as you cum all over his cock. “Fuck! Yeah that’s right. I’m the only one capable of making you cum this hard.” His thrusts are getting sloppy, and you can tell he is close to his release. He is still pounding into you, which is overstimulating you. Muttering “yeah” and “fuck” to himself quietly over and over again, grunting and groaning. Eventually, he fills you up with his load. Tilting his head down and panting as he tries to calm himself down. He pulls himself out of you, and you whimper. Completely fucked out and brainless at this point.

“Just to check…who do you belong to?”

“You Hongjoong…o-only you.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget that ever again; you got it?”

“Yes Hongjoong.”

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @xuchiya @bunnyluvr25

359 notes · View notes

songmingisthighs · 1 year

Text

Pretty Cute

group : ateez

pairing : yunho × reader

genre : smut

word count : 3.4 k

warning : mdni, explicit smut, yunho and (y/n)'s kind of a perv, mutual pining, cnc ((y/n)'s a horny drunk), somnophilia, sex (not piv; fingering), slight hint of size kink?

a/n : happy late LATE yuyu day <3 i wrote this impulsively and i was gonna post it on yunho's birthday but things got in the way and suddenly it felt weird writing smut in my state. but hey, i hope this makes up for my absence!

buy me coffee ?

Both you and Yunho came home giggling through the door, courtesy of the alcohol you both drank earlier. Your steps were wobbly and staggered as you tried walking into your apartment with your best friend in tow, trying to catch up with you. Seeing this, Yunho giggled and pulled you by your shoulders so you could lean on him slightly as you both managed to take your shoes off sagely and proceed further into the apartment. "Okay, we gotta be careful because you're stumbling, mumbling, grumbling, tumbling, schcumbling..." Yunho's giggle made you giggle as well, thinking that he sounded both ridiculous and absolutely hilarious for some reason. But you just let him stick by you because you love his presence and even more so when you were drunk.

It had been a custom for Yunho to be very touchy with you both in public and in private as he was your teddy retriever and you were his... (y/n). Even earlier at the bar, you enjoyed the feeling of him with a hand behind you resting on the bar as his body towered over you, covering you from most of the people at the club. You sipped your vodka cranberry happily which gave you warmth from the inside while he provided you with warmth from the outside, your exposed legs didn't feel as exposed even after Wooyoung made a vaguely inappropriate comment about them. He might be one of your best friends but he was still a boneheaded idiot that you love so much.

People thought that it was weird how touchy and open you were to each other, some even thinking that you both had dated. Fact is, you wouldn't deny him if he asked you out, but you didn't know if he felt that way about you. Sure, he was nice to you, but so was he to everyone else. What makes you so special? Other than the occasional (very freaking often) compliments and remarks about how he would be so lucky if he was able to call you his wherever you show him your outfits or your accomplishments, you were doubtful that he would see you in a romantic way.

Plopping onto the couch, you both rested at each end with your legs propped on his lap and his hands resting on your shin. "God, we over did it tonight," the moan you let out turned into a soft hum when you felt his hands slowly caressing the skin under his touch as he chuckled, "Speak for yourself, I can still take a couple more beers in me," he teased. You narrowed your eyes at him in mock judgment, "Sure, Giggly Giggleson, you DEFINITELY didn't drink too much even when you started flirting with me." Yunho bit his bottom lip at the mention of him flirting with you earlier, giddy that you actually noticed that he was indeed flirting and wasn't just being friendly as he intended. "How can I not when you were sitting there looking so devastatingly beautiful and delicious," his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes couldn't help but focus on its movement, sure that his bottom lip was not the only wet lip at that moment in time. But you shook your head slightly to prevent yourself from saying something stupid like blurting out how much you want his tongue shoved down your throat. To mask your inner turmoil, you rolled your eyes and snap your leg at him in mock annoyance to which he just chuckled.

The movement you made shifted the position of your mini skirt, not realizing that it had ridden up slightly. Thankfully, Yunho was gentlemanly enough to pull it back to its original position and length, of course after battling his inner urge to just pull it further up and expose your panties to him that he know for sure would be very adorable. "You're wearing a short skirt, (y/n), you gotta be careful," he pointed out, putting his hands back to where they were so his mind wouldn't focus on what was under the skirt. You rolled your eyes and moved to straddle his lap, surprising Yunho but his hands somehow found purchase on your hips in a secured grip. "There's no one here but you, Yunnie," when you draped your hands on his shoulders, Yunho was sure that you could feel his erection forming and was just screwing with him. But in case you didn't, he wanted to play it safe. "Which is even more reason why you need to be careful," Yunho leaned to peck you on the nose which caused warmth to bloom in your chest and a rosy tint to spread to your cheeks from the spot where Yunho planted his lips on. "And why is that?" You asked, eyes glimmering with slight hope, "Because you're my best friend and you're so irresistable in this skirt. If you shake your cute lil' butt at me one more time I might not be able to hold myself back from seeing what's under your slutty little skirt."

Hearing Yunho said that made you automatically wet and you had to feign rolling your eyes and pushing Yunho's face away as you got off him to excuse yourself to the bathroom. While you tried to calm yourself in the bathroom, Yunho defeatedly covered his eyes with his arms, totally embarrassed and slightly regretting that he said that in the first place. But he was right, though, he had sported a boner as a result from you sitting on top of him, knowing full well that your cunt was separated from his cock by a couple layer of clothing items. Fuck, he was so close to feeling you. With a groan, Yunho depleted into the couch, with his eyes closed, he thought of what he was going to say to you.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were screaming into your bunched up towel, absolutely wrecked by Yunho's words. Sure, you wore it because you remembered Yunho being so absolutely transfixed with the item when you both went shopping merely a couple days ago. Your plan was in motion and you don't know how to feel about that as you were sure your chances of success was no bigger than 32%. The occassional ass glancing was normal, but a full blown confession that Yunho wanted to devour your cunt made your arousal leak out of you like a broken faucet. So before you throw caution out the window, you thought it would be best to calm yourself down a bit.

Your inebriated state dulled your sense of time because when you finally got out of the bathroom, you saw Yunho on the couch, sleeping with his arms above his head. Pouting from disappointment, you walked over to him and stood by his side, thinking about what you're supposed to do now. Should you wake him up? Should you tuck him in? What if he thought what happened was just a dream and he forgot about it? But he looked so peaceful and calm and so so pretty, how could you even consider waking him up?

Yunho truly looked beautiful when he slept; his long lashes that you're so jealous of, his fair complexity, his plump lips. You had to remind yourself that Yunho was asleep and despite his confession earlier, you should try to hold yourself back from mauling him. No matter how hard it was for you. Though as your eyes trailed from his face to his neck, then his chest, then his shoulders and arms, and finally landed on his fingers, you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. It was long, pretty, and you know how some men have a severe case of man hands that made their fingers look stumpy and unappealing, but not Yunho. His fingers are just like his body, dainty and flexible yet they oddly enhances his masculinity. And for the life of you, you really do want to know how he would use them on you. Phantom feelings of Yunho's grip on your ass from earlier resurfaced and you shuddered at the memory, remembering how they were firm and possessive yet gentle and careful, it made you feel dangerous but provided a sense of safety as if telling you that you could trust him. And you do.

Without realizing, you had taken steps closer to his outstretched hand, standing so close to it that he was barely grazing you. For some reason, you could feel the warmth radiating from him even just from his digits. Your mind started wondering how exactly he would grab you and where. Your legs? Your knees? Your ankles? Or is he the type to spread you open by pinning your legs on the sides using his body? His wide shoulders would've definitely spread you open easily and it's not like you wouldn't open your legs for him. How can you not? It's Yunho for fuck's sake, your hot as fuck best friend who you sometimes (a lot of times) thought of whilst touching yourself.

As if he knew, Yunho stirred in his sleep which made you freeze in your spot, not wanting him to see what you were doing. He moved whilst still in his unconscious state and his hands moved slightly which unfortunately for you, pressed into your inner thigh with his soft palm making contact with the suddenly sensitive skin. Your body coiled from the touch and you couldn't help but let out a whimper. Everything felt so close yet so far all of a sudden and you wanted more. Though, you were fully aware that you shouldn't because Yunho was dead to the world and it would be wrong. But it felt so. so right and when else will you be getting a chance like this? Though, it didn't feel right as you weren't sure if he was okay with it or not. But he was just... Right there. Despite your better judgement, with your alcohol-soaked brain, your body seemed to move on its own before you could even make a coherent decision. The moment you realized what you were doing, you were already grinding against Yunho's arm with a lump forming in your throat. The guilt was making your stomach churn but you just couldn't stop what you were already doing. Even more so, you even moved down a bit so you could feel Yunho's long fingers directly on your covered slit. You had to cover your mouth with both your hands to suppress your moans because you didn't want him to wake up seeing you like that. Or you just didn't want any irrefutable reason to stop.

Unfortunately for you, your plans didn't go accordingly. Too busy with your ministration, you didn't realize Yunho slowly woke up with fluttering eyes and head slightly clearer than before. Ironically, the first thing that popped into his head was what you were doing as he had yet to realize that you were pleasuring yourself (or testing how you think he would pleasure you) on him. So when his consciousness finally came back wholly, the first thing he realized was something warm on his hand and something soft on his skin. "What the," Yunho craned his head slightly to see you with one hand covering your mouth and the other lifting your skirt as you ground yourself on his hand like a bitch in heat. A bitch with the neediest moans and the cutest pair of panties. God, was this a dream? Was this an imagination? Should he call on you and see if either you disappeared or he woke up in his bed with a raging boner? Or should he test the reality out himself?

Once again, your body froze when you felt something probing your cunt over the pathetic, flimsy excuse of a material. Your head snapped forward to see Yunho with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your crotch as if it was the most entertaining show ever. Or as if it was Fluffy, the three-headed dog as per his interest. "Yunho," the call made Yunho's eyes flit up to your eyes but his hand never stopped its movements on your, now that you took notice of it, sensitive pussy. You realized that you should have added something after calling him and you were sure you had the words at the tip of your tongue but when his damn middle finger slipped into your panties and started probing in your hole, you could actually feel your brain stalled and your tongue rolled into your throat.

It seemed like it would go on forever, the gaze you shared with Yunho, which made the fire that was starting in your chest grew considerably in a short span of time. From your perspective, you couldn't help but look at how lust-filled his eyes were, how he seemed hungry for you. He looked absolutely hot and maybe it was because you had never seen him look like that or look at you like that. It was a good thing though because even from just seeing it once, you know you couldn't get enough. From Yunho's side, he was taking his damn sweet time enjoying the way you look falling apart with only his fingers. Not that you knew about it, but he had a fair amount of experience imagining you under him, being used by and for him. He had even imagined you riding him like a cowboy making all sorts of noises from how good he felt inside you and also from the praises that he was giving you. Sure, he would like to praise you right then and there but by God, he was just so awestruck at how you looked and sounded. It was even better than his imagination, it was more than what he imagined. And he needed more.

Snapping you out of your pleasure-induced state, Yunho ripped your panties off easily and pulled you into his lap with a single gasp that escaped your lips. You barely registered the pieces of flimsy panties on the floor when Yunho pulled you so close that your noses were touching. "Don't worry, I'll buy cuter, frillier, and sexier panties for you," a chill ran up your spine when Yunho licked your bottom lip with a smug smirk on his face, "And you're going to do a little runway show for me then." With better positioning, Yunho was able to fully slip two of his thick and long fingers inside you with one swift move all thanks to your slick cunt. "Shi- fuck," you whimpered out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you felt your thighs tense up at how good Yunho's fingers were filling you and it was ridiculous because it was just his damn fingers. The sight of you on top of him was like a valuable renaissance art because it's dirty yet classy and he truly loved the physical proof of how he affected you so. Yunho used his free hand to flip your cute tiny skirt up to reveal the sight of your pussy absolutely devouring his digits. He loved it, he loved it so much, and he loved you so much. But that confession is for another time when his fingers are not up in you and he didn't want to make your arousal drip out of your cunt and drench his arm.

"I want to see you fuck yourself on my finger baby, make a show for me," Yunho felt his dick twitch in his pants when you let out a breathy whimper and your bottom lip quivered so adorably. "Show Yunnie how much he can make a mess of you," he demanded. Your heart dropped to your stomach when he used the nickname you used on him in a sexual way. Hearing that automatically made your hands move to his shoulders, anchoring your position as you began fucking yourself on his fingers. You were glad that he started with two because you didn't know how you were supposed to do it with three or more without your legs giving out. But you wanted to do your best to show him what you were capable of doing. Or maybe what he was capable of doing to you.

"Fuck I love your fingers Yunnie," you moaned out as your head dropped back, exposing your neck to Yunho which he utilized to plant his lips on your neck to begin marking you. Your grip on his shoulders tightened considerably when he delivered a particular suck and your mind immediately raced to imagine how that same suck would feel on your clit. Better yet, how he would look with his chin wet with your arousal between your legs. Just the thoughts made your pussy clench and your mouth drooled slightly, something Yunho didn't miss for even a second. With a chuckle sent through the skin of your neck, your body shuddered with the vibration that felt like electricity in your body. Along with your bouncing, as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your hips rolled forward when he pressed the heel of his palm on your clit, furthering your pleasure to the point that it was almost unbearable. "I- I wanna cum," you mumbled, biting your bottom lip to suppress a squeal when Yunho curled his fingers in you, accidentally grazing your g-spot. "Come on then baby, cum on my fingers and show me how much you're a good girl you are," he made a show of biting your upper chest through your sweater, dulling any pain but making your skin tingle. "You are, a good girl, right? A good, good girl in the tiniest skirt that you wear to tease any and all men that look in your way," he teased so smugly, loving how you seem to shrink under his words and he just loved it. He loves your tiny self (though metaphorically) in your tiny clothes that accentuate your everything and just drove him absolutely nuts. Your head shook quickly as you fucked yourself quicker and harder on his fingers with his palm still stimulating your clit, "No, no, no, Yunnie, just you. Only you. I wear this tiny, slutty skirt just for you," you spoke but your voice sounded small and breathy, exasperation beyond obvious to you and him. "Fuck, you'll be the death of me," Yunho grunted, thinking how much he was going to ravage you after this.

With a single push, Yunho managed to reposition you to be on your back with your head against the other armrest, legs spread open for him on his lap to provide easy access. "You better cum now, okay?" was all the warning you got before he fucked your hole even quicker than you were fucking yourself before. The slick you produced lubricated his movements effectively as well as letting out obnoxious, sloppy, sloshing sounds that told him just how wet you were. Yunho was definitely going to find a day (or night) soon enough just dedicated to eating you out.

You were reduced to a mess with your messy hair and trembling lips. Not to mention the pornographic moans you let out that may or may not cause you to receive complaints from the tenants on your floor or any other floors or even the next buildings. But you don't care, not at all, and especially not when Yunho made you cum so hard your hips were suspended mid-air, asscheeks clenched, and pussy leaking more of your juice onto Yunho's fingers. Though embarrassed at your situation, you found yourself incapable of moving whatsoever which was a contrast to Yunho who was looking at you with pure wonder and amazement, affection mixed with hunger. It was only when your hips rested back on the couch that Yunho took his fingers out of your cunt slowly, catching your attention. You couldn't deny that you almost drooled at the sight of Yunho sticking the fingers that were just in you into his mouth and sucking on them as if they were candy.

Distracted, you didn't realize that Yunho had begun unbuckling his pants and taking out his dick until you felt something heavy and hot slapping your cunt a couple times. It was only when you looked down that you saw his cock which was by far the biggest you have ever seen that you let out a soft squeak as your eyes widened. When you looked back up, Yunho was eyeing you hungrily like a predator.

"My turn."

taglist :

@hwasrie-main @yvnnieurl @kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @thesolarplanetarysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @jcngh0-hq @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @youngestdelacour @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @ming-ki @stopeatread @spooo00oky @asjkdk @shinotani

@chloepurpy @cutie-wooyo

can't be tagged :

@imswitchbabemox

network :

@cultofdionysusnet

2K notes · View notes

the-traveling-poet · 3 months

Text

══════════════════════

Laughter

══════════════════════

Once the vets, yourself included, came to the realization you’d never heard so much as a chuckle from the infamous Captain Levi, a plan is immediately formed in order to find out just how his laugh might sound.

Although, you might just discover a little more.

══════════════════════

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, alcohol consumption

Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

══════════════════════

A/N: I got inspiration from this lovely post to write a little drabble for Levi’s adorable little laugh, and getting to hear it for the first time. So here I am taking a quick break from my fic to write some fluff!

══════════════════════

Levi wasn’t one to physically express the emotions he felt on a daily basis. He kept his facial features neutral, for the most part.

Of course, if he were angered or stressed, perhaps concerned or confused, his facial muscles would respond accordingly; yet, always minutely. A raise of a brow here, a frown there, eyelids narrowing over grey pupils or nimble fingers tightening around the rim of his cup.

These were all physical signals his companions could take note of to guess at which emotion he was currently experiencing.

While discussing this once, among other things, you’d made the comment that soon shaped a plan you’d all soon hatch.

Had anyone ever seen him smile? A fleeting grin? Perhaps been quick enough to hear a chuckle, or even better; a full on laugh?

Hange, Miche, Nanaba and Erwin had no answers, and neither did you.

So here you all were now, sitting amongst yourselves in a loose circle with drinks in hand and a deck of cards splayed messily on the table top. The plan was to get Levi to loosen up a bit while under the influence, should he provide consent to your little game.

Hange had forced Levi to join the rest of you, despite his protests. Though, those soon died out when you stood and offered the man a seat with such a hopeful smile.

Grumbling all the while, he had sat next to your left and accepted a hand of cards and a bottle of alcohol. Satisfied that the first part had been accomplished, Hange shot you a triumphant grin and took their seat.

You all tried your best to either poke fun at one another or share jokes, ranging from mild to borderline offensive humor; just to catch a peak at Levi’s expression changing.

He indeed loosened up after several drinks, but hadn’t upturned his lips even once yet. Occasionally he had added onto some jest aimed another’s way, and leaned back comfortably in his chair. You were hopeful this would eventually lead to him relaxing his pressed lips into a smile.

But it wasn’t until you were on the brink of giving up nearly an hour into the card game, that he muttered a soft sound.

Reaching across the table for a card to draw, you’d scoffed under your breath with a glare aimed Miche’s way.

“Really, Miche? You play cards like titan’s shit; they cant.”

The muffled sound from your left made you hesitate to grab the card off the deck.

Surely not…

Hange nearly dropped their hand of cards, while Miche and Erwin easily let theirs clatter to the table. It finally was happening, you realized, as you stared at the raven beside you.

His red tinted face was half obscured by his hand, while the other hand laid his cards onto the table. With shaking shoulders and watering eyes, Levi met your bewildered stare and again the sound escaped him. Though he attempted to muffle it, he couldn’t seem to hold it in anymore.

Slowly that muffled chuckle turned into an actual laugh as his hand started to fall away from his mouth. His lips were pulled back in a casual grin, exposing white teeth as he took in a breath.

“…Like titan’s shit…” He giggled. Actually, giggled. The hand previously covering his face clutched at his stomach as tears lined his silver eyes. His laughter was contagious; lighter than his usual tone and somehow softer.

You stared on in awe as Hange soon burst out in laughter as well, making no attempt to hide their amusement. Erwin chuckled along with the shake of his head while Miche tried his best to grumble about the insult, but after a shared look with Nanaba he too snorted through his nose.

“That’s the best damn joke I’ve ever heard,” Levi chuckled, raising what was left of the booze in his bottle towards his lips to finish it off. He glanced back your way, and you couldn’t help but notice the blush adorning his cheeks and his ears remained as he continued to smile your way. Shaking yourself of the shock, a grin broke out over your face.

“And that’s the best damn laugh I’ve ever heard,” You giggled back, watching as he caught his breath. The tips of his ears grew a little redder, and he suddenly became very interested in gathering up the cards he’d set down, grumbling something or another under his breath.

You grinned over at Hange, expecting to silently celebrate your all’s success with them. But the section commander only grinned back at you, glancing between Levi and yourself with a suggestive wiggle of their brows.

Your flustered gaze flitted between Hange and Levi, slowly putting together what they had silently suggested. Levi caught the look and immediately reached for another bottle, and you were quick to do the same.

The game commenced; laughter bouncing off the walls and cards sliding across the table like nothing had happened. But with the sparse glances shared with Levi, accompanied by his occasional chuckle, you knew things weren’t quite going to be the same again. At least, between the two of you.

Laying down another card from your hand, you grinned the raven’s way with determination to make him laugh once again.

251 notes · View notes

joelsmochi · 1 year

Text

Joel Miller — There You Go

Part 2 here.

warnings: post-apocalypse, pre-ellie, age change + gap (joel is 53, reader is 33), smut (minors dni), unprotected piv sex + creampie, outdoor/public sex, reader has a thing for joel’s hands, joel has a thing for reader being a pillow princess, joel also has a thing for praising reader, joel loves spoiling reader what more can i say, definitely ooc joel, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), dirty talk, vanilla sex (? should this even count as a warning LMFAO), possessive!joel (only a little it's kinda cute), fluffy!joel, probably an over-usage of the word “pretty”, i always lazy proofread so there may be some typos <3

wc: 4k

a/n: there are so many mean!joel or rough!joel smuts (don’t get me wrong i be eating that shit up!) so i thought i’d do something a lil different & give y’all a sweet and endearing joel smut <3 this is lowkey inspired by the scene from jason’s lyric + inspired by a comment i saw where someone said pedro/joel would definitely talk you through it .-.

“The sun feels so good,” I think aloud. “Come lie down! You should try it!” I glance over at Joel who is cleaning the pot that we just ate dinner out of.

“You’re gonna get sunburnt,” is all he says. I don’t respond, enjoying the warm blanket the sun is providing. A few minutes later I hear him sit next to me which makes him block the sun from my face so I open my eyes and smile up at him.

He and I aren’t that close, but it never hurt to try and grow closer with him—sometimes he’d give in and laugh with me, but most of the time it was like talking to a brick wall that occasionally grunted at you or rolled its eyes. I understand though. I’m sure he lost someone he loved so deeply and that kind of shit changes you. I’ve lost more people than I can count and no matter how much you try to prepare for it, you’re just never ready. That’s why I always try to get him to smile, I want him to know that someone still cares about him even if he doesn’t care for anyone anymore.

But I know he does. I know for a fact that he cares about me. He never let’s me hold him when we’re trying to sleep but the second I hear his breaths deepen I always wrap my arms around him and he shuffles his back deeper into my body. I loved the way he was too emotionally calloused to warm up to me because it makes me want to fight harder for him which reinforces the fact that I care about him.

“Thank you for dinner, you sure know how to whip up some twenty-year-old ravioli,” I joke.

He just nods and looks at the trees in front of us.

“How old were you when this all started? Thirty-two?”

“Thirty-three,” he corrects.

“Hmm, same age I am now.”

“Ain’t that a bitch?” He huffs, clearly exhausted from our hike. I sit up in front of him and grab his hands; he tries to pull back while giving me a dirty look so I just grip him harder. “What are ya doing?” He asks.

“Holding your hands,” I say with a cheeky tone and a grin.

“Why?”

“Because I think about touching ‘em all the time,” I tease.

He takes a few breaths, watching to see if I break my smile. “You think… About my hands?”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum, “I think about your fingers.” I hold one of his hands up to my face and analyze his digits, memorizing the cuts and bruises and wrinkles along them. Even though my words are true, I still played as if I were joking endearingly, but the more I looked at his fingers the more complicated it got. I feel my nipples perk up underneath my tank top from the cool breeze and… Well, from being horny. “I think you’re a cool guy,” I say after looking at him and dropping his hand.

“Why?”

Shrugging, I say, “Because you take care of me. You teach me a lot.”

His eyebrows rise and force wrinkles onto his forehead. “I teach you a lot?”

I hum again, nodding slowly and blinking even slower not able to hide my true intentions anymore. “Yeah, you… Taught me how to use a gun safely… You taught me how to get past an infected… You taught me how to hunt a buck.”

“Shit your parents shoulda taught ya when your were a kid,” he retorts, letting me know he doesn’t see my desperation.

“Maybe,” I whisper. I carefully move onto my hands and knees, slowly crawling closer to him. “Maybe I was just meant to have you as my teacher.” The look in his cold eyes shifted yet he continues to leave me confused. I may be overstepping here, but his lack of resistance only urges me to push further and further. I bat my eyelashes at him and reach my nose just in front of his. “You could even teach me how to fuck.”

His eyes bat shut and he exhales as if he were committing the worst of sins. His eyes reopen after a few quiet seconds and they flicked between both of my own eyes. His cold irises were now warm with dilated pupils and his pulse is beating so strong I could see it pump against the skin along his collarbones. I glance at his lips more than once and press one of my hands to his thigh.

“Is this okay?” It comes out shakier than I intended it to as my breathing feels much heavier than before. Joel makes me feel so small but in the best way possible. It’s as if he were my sworn protector and I could always count on him to be there for me. Like a lovestruck twenty-year-old, I cling to him in my most desperate of times even though he pretends to hate it. I could tell he likes having someone to take care of, and I love that he takes care of me.

Hesitating, he nods and carefully reaches for my forearms.

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he whispers sounding more desperate than me.

I can’t help but simper at both his confirmation and touch, finally touching my nose to his. A knot twists deeply into my stomach, and my chest fills with waves of nervousness. “I’ve only done it a couple times,” I whisper.

“That’s okay,” he hums against my lips, his chest rumbling at the low vibrations from his voice. “I’ll teach you.”

I snicker and giggle at his words earning the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen on him in the time I’ve known him, then he presses his lips to mine so softly I thought I was imagining it. The smack of his warm mouth dazes me momentarily and I grasp onto his shoulders before completely falling into his touch. He lies back onto the blanket and encapsulates my body with his thick legs and firm arms. He whines into my mouth and holds onto my waist as if I would fall apart if he let go.

I pull away after a while to look down at him, wondering how we should start. It’s been well over a decade since my last time and I don’t want to disappoint Joel.

“Lie down,” he instructs while admiring my flustered look.

I do as he says and allow him to take my shoes off, which he does so carefully. I always pegged Joel to be a bit rougher, and eager for it, especially after a long time of waiting.

His fingertips nuzzle the hairs along my calves and thighs up until they reach the hems of my shorts and this is where my expectations become true; he wraps his fingers into the folds and tugs gently, probably trying to pace himself, but the rise and fall of my chest catch his attention and his patience runs out. He yanks my button undone and doesn’t even bother taking my shorts off, he just slips his hand inside to feel around. I prop myself up with my elbows to get a better view of everything. He strokes the stubble along my pelvis, then around my clit, dipping down to my entrance and slightly parting my lips to see how ready I am.

I inhale at the feeling of his warm finger coming into contact with my cool precum, locking eyes with him to watch the subtleties in his face change at every new feeling he notices. He just barely whispers, “Fuck,” when he rises his finger to my clit. He gives it a gentle stroke and watches me breathe slowly for him. “You’re doing so good, staying still like that for me,” he praises. I bite my lip and confidently smile at him. He starts to rub soft circles onto my skin, eliciting a gentle coo from me. The space between my eyebrows tightens at the relief and my eyes close softly. “Fuck, look at’ya… So eager for me already, huh?” I look at him and nod. “Tell me how bad you want it, doll.”

“Do you remember the night we first met?” I ask between moans. “And I had that cut on my arm that you had to clean and wrap? All I could do was stare at your fingers and—and imagine how good they would feel rubbing my clit the way you’re doing right now. It was the first night I had touched myself in almost a year.”

He squints at me sharing this information and rewarding me with more pressure from his fingers. “And how often do you touch yourself now?”

“In the past two years I’ve known you?” I sheepishly ask; he nods and halts his moving fingers. Desperately wanting him to keep going, I shout, “Almost anytime I get left alone for longer than ten minutes.”

“Since we’re being honest…” He leans down to my ears to whisper, “…Sometimes I leave you alone to touch myself as well.” He takes his hand out of my shorts to slide them off of me.

He looks around the trees, and I do the same to make sure no one living or infected is around; once we’re sure it’s clear he sits to remove his boots which I laugh when it starts to take a long time. I reach for his shirt buttons, undoing them carefully as a few were hanging literally by a thread. I push his flannel shirt off of his arms while he finally kicks his boots off, then he hovers his head over mine and just barely pushes his pants down to reveal his swollen cock. I reach for it despite my intimidation at the girth but he stops me, guiding me to lie down again.

“Joel?”

“Yes, baby?” He asks against the skin above my collarbone whilst placing lovely kisses all over my neck.

“It’s really big,” I say tensely, laughing at myself.

He gives me a juicy kiss and shares a winsome look with me. “I’ll be gentle if you want,” he promises. I barely smile, not realizing how harshly my nails are digging into his arm. I give him a slight nod and spread my legs slowly for him. “I promise I’ll be real nice to your pretty pussy.”

I lift my head up to kiss him again and he shifts to rest his body weight on top of me with his hand reaching between our bodies to line his tip up with my entrance. His tongue folds over my lips and into my mouth restlessly and I feel his hips push forward against me. I prepare myself for the discomfort, squeezing my eyes tightly and pulling away from the kiss to brace myself.

It’s difficult to breathe with my ribcage pushing against him and I feel him leave a trail of kisses along my jawline in an attempt to soothe me. I constantly squeeze around his thick cock, trying to ignore the slight burning and get used to the pain faster. He notices how long I remain tense and anxious, so he taps my cheek gently with his fingers and I open my eyes to look at him which relaxes almost every nerve in my body.

“Just relax, honey, okay? Can you do that for me?” My eyes roll to the back of my head as his raspy voice continues to beg me to relax. “Hmm? Can you relax for me, baby girl?” He pulls back a little and begins to slowly pump himself in and out of me, chuckling as he watches my body actively relaxing around and beneath him. “There you go… There you go… Here.” He adjusts his knees to be flush against the back of my thighs and moves my arms and legs to wrap around his back. “How’s this?”

I wait for him to start moving again, noticing the difference in closeness. “Yes!” I hiss. I feel his hand pop my boobs out of the top of my tank top and I look to his fingers to watch them rub against the sewn-in rose in the middle of the shirt, but soon enough his hand cups my boob and gives it a delicate squeeze. I notice my pussy get wetter at the steady pace he is going at, feeling the curve of his cock hit the deeper parts of me.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Yes, Joel,” I moan. I slide the straps of my shirt off of my arms to get a better grip on him making him smile at the now bunched-up fabric around my waist. All I can do is moan and roll my eyes back and forth at his cock filling me up repeatedly. With my thighs trembling around his hips, my nails digging into his back, and my back arching deeper into the ground, he lifts his upper half off of me more than likely to see me—all of me.

He drives his hips faster, not fully entering inside of me but using the curve of his shaft to his advantage. As my hands flail around either gripping the sheet or his arms, I accidentally dig my knees into his stomach, and I can tell it’s hurting him but he doesn’t stop.

“Come on, baby,” he grunts, somehow managing to go even faster, “cum for me, pretty girl, I can feel it—oh, look at’cha!”

I whine at the ticklish feeling of his tip rubbing against my g-spot, feeling sudden shocks in my nerves from my stomach to my feet. I feel my muscles stop squeezing around him and start pushing against him as my orgasm creeps up. Joel hunches over to pop one of my nipples into his mouth adding waves of electricity to swim through the rest of my body.

“Joel, I—“

“Shh, shh shh shh,” he mumbles against my breast. “Look at me, darlin’. Hold onto me.” My fingers wrap into his curls and I watch his eyes trail over my face. I feel myself fall over the edge and into my orgasm, and his words seem to only exist to intensify this burst of energy. “God, look at you cumming for me—oh, my God, I can feel it," he repeats. "I can feel you cumming, it feels so fucking good."

“Yeah?” I whimper. “Fuck, please don’t stop!” He grunts and gets a bit more sloppy with his thrusts which help ride out the rest of my orgasm. I release his hair and drop my legs down next to his, feeling soreness spreading throughout my thighs from them being stretched. “Do you want to switch?” I ask after seeing how tired he is.

He pretty much pouts and shakes his head, cupping my face in one of his hands. “No, baby. I wanna take care of you,” he says. “You look so pretty in the sun.”

I blush to thank him, then take his scruffy face into my hands and give him a few kisses until they turn into our tongues dancing together. I moan at the taste of his skin, pushing my hips down to get his shaft deeper inside of me.

He listens to my body and instead of thrusting he rocks his hips after resting some of his weight on me again. I feel the layers of sweat from both of us stick his skin to mine but we just ignore it. All I care to focus on are his groans and the way his cock fits so perfectly inside of me.

“I was made just for you,” I moan, reaching out to run my hands along the hair on his chest.

He shoves one of my legs up on his shoulder, bending forward to somehow fuck me even deeper. “You were made just for me?” He asks, kissing the inside of my knee.

I mewl out, cursing at how smoothly his hips continue to roll in between my thighs. “Yes, Joel!” I shout when he shoves his dick all the way inside of me, stopping once he presses against my depths. “My pussy was made just for you!”

I watch his pretty eyes roll under his twitching eyelids, and he whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers. I gasp at his shaft throbbing inside of me and cradle the back of his head.

He lifts himself to his knees again, forces my legs to spread apart, and pulls out. “Fuck, baby,” he groans with furrowed eyebrows. “You keep talking like that you’re gonna make me cum too fast.”

Grinning wide, I sit up and turn around to my hands and knees like earlier. I figured a change in position could help excite things a bit more, plus my ass is starting to hurt. I moan and giggle while I tauntingly wave my ass for him to grab. Instead, he yanks my knees back knocking me down to my stomach which admittedly hurt a little bit, but I didn’t care. I finally got to have Joel and that was all I needed.

He pushes my legs apart with his chest pressing against my back. I shudder at his warm breath on my sweat-covered cheek and ear, flinching when he nibbles on my lobe—not from pain, but surprise. He moves down to bite my shoulder, then my spine before I feel his hand push his thick cock back inside of me.

I kick my limp legs up to meet his wide thighs and lay my face against the ground. He fucks me like he’s desperate for me to know how strong he is, how weak he can get me. I arch my neck up for my lips to meet his chin; listening to his little whimpers has my entire body weak for him. I didn’t want the noises to stop, I don’t want him to stop.

“Oh, baby,” he whimpers some more, “you feel so good. S-oh good.” His breath is shaky as are his words.

“I want you to cum inside of me, Joel,” I beg before pecking his chin. I relax the arch in my neck to instead bury the back of my head into his shoulder. He stops for a few seconds to absorb my words, using this time to wrap his arms below and around my stomach. “I love the way you fuck me,” I whisper against his jaw. “You make me feel so good, baby.”

“That’s my job, honey,” he tells me, thrusting a couple of times. “Oh sh—oh my God,” he mewls. He bites my cheek which makes me giggle and turn my head to kiss him. He starts to drill in and out of me while our lips fold over each other, our moans and begs and whimpers falling out occasionally. I feel that bubble growing inside of me again just itching to be popped, and I completely crumble when he says, “You take my cock so good, princess, I know you got another one in ya.”

I can’t even speak whilst he wraps his strong hand around my neck to hold my head up rather than to choke me. I cry out his name shallowly and squeeze around him so tight I’m sure his cock started to ache. He curses into my neck, not letting up on my pussy one bit. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it.

“You look so fucking pretty when I fuck you. Look at how helpless you are, fuck. You’re mine, pretty girl.”

“I love the way you fuck me, Joel,” I say breathlessly as my orgasm doesn’t let up.

“My sweet girl,” he coos in my ear. “Keep talking to me, mmm, I love hearing you beg for it.”

By this point, I am suffering from the pain of overstimulation, which I never thought could hurt so bad but feel so damn good at the same time. “You’re so good to me, Joel,” I tell him doubtlessly. “I want you to cum for me, please.” His body jerks a few times and it instills confidence in my tone. “I want you to use me… Use me to cum, please…”

“You want me to cum in that pretty pussy a’yours? Hmm?” He cuddles his face into my shoulder blade, striving to reach even deeper inside of me. “Turn around. I wanna see you,” he whispers; I turn around and he lifts me onto his lap, still standing on his knees. His burly forearms manage to hold me up enough for him to keep doing all of the work, but by this point, I was thankful for it with how much he’s worn me out. “You take my cock s’good. Look at your pretty face, your pretty little helpless face.”

I watch as he takes his lip between his teeth into his weeping mouth, breathless gasps leaving my own. He looks so majestic with how the sun casts subtle shadows along his face; his vulnerability coats the look in his eyes as his face begins to relax which tells ms he is close. His nails dig into my spine and he looks to me for reassurance.

I run my fingertips over Joel’s broad shoulders and blink slowly, drawing my tongue out to lick his lips briefly. “Can you cum for me, baby?” I ask softly.

“Yes,” he says, heavily nodding his head. “Anything for you, honey.” He kisses me swiftly, smiling at me and stroking my thumb over his cheekbone. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

We both moan out little praises against each other's faces and lips and sometimes kiss roughly. My chin burns from his stubble but I don’t pull away from him. I don’t want to. I just want to feel all of him.

He tells me he’s going to cum once more and I say, “Look at me, baby. Look at me when you cum.”

I hold his head still in my hands and rock my hips against his, but he stops me by pushing my hips into him and holding me there. I whine but allow it, cockily grinning at him when I feel his warm cum paint my walls. He is a whimpering mess, cowering his face to my chest. His body twitches underneath my legs and his hands fall to my ass, squeezing it enough to lift my hips up and back down a couple of times. Grunting when he finishes, he peels his face from my skin to smile down at me after lying me down carefully. He looks around for a moment before pulling out and laying next to me.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” he says, still out of breath.

I look over at him and twist to my side. “It’s okay. I know you like taking care of me.”

“Do I now?”

I nod and hum. “You’ll never say it, but I know you do.”

Joel also turns onto his side to stare at me. “I like taking care of you,” he admits with a hoarse voice. He reaches to pull my shirt straps back over my arms before covering my boobs, then grabs my panties to slide them up my legs but stops when he gets to my vulva just to place a kiss on it. He half-dresses himself before pulling my warm legs onto his lap; I sit up to get more comfortable and stare at his hands massaging my legs. “Your face is sunburnt,” he tells me.

I touch my cheekbone and flinch when I feel it is indeed sunburnt. “Dammit.”

“Doll, I want ya to know that this doesn’t mean nothing to me. It isn’t nothing, I mean… It’s something… If you want it to be.”

“Something?” I question with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah…” He shrugs, looking back down at my legs. “If you want.”

I crawl into his lap, responding to him with a loving kiss. “I want you. Not something.”

“Oh, pretty girl…” He moves some hair from my face and bashfully smiles at me. “You already got me.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou smut

1K notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 2 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 15.

Summary: Oliver's first night and the next morning at Saltburn, and you learn that not only does he know more about you and Felix than you'd assumed, but he knows even less about the social rules of a place like this than you'd imagined.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, we finally get the basis of the consensual pervert/enabler dynamic between oliver/reader(/felix). its implications in this chapter but will probably get more explicit in future.

A/N: 4908 words. venetia catton is a menace to society and i am in lvoe with her. set up is being set up!! we're getting there, friends!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

You wish you hadn't looked out of the window. You wished you hadn't cracked open the door to step onto the balcony. You wished you hadn't waited up.

Dinner had ended hours ago, and Felix was well and truly asleep, but you'd left your smokes on his balcony and had taken a break from going over the guest lists for the upcoming events that Duncan had provided you with. It was something you did every year, it helped calm your anxiety around these formal events, to be well versed on all the patrons in attendance, making everyone feel as though their place at Saltburn mattered, if only for a night. There was most certainly some deep, psychological root of your crippling social anxiety and fear of faux par and failure, but that was almost certainly a problem to investigate in the future.

The lilac study had been functionally unused since before even Felix had been born, sitting idle and untouched but beautifully furnished directly across from his room, on the other side of the long gallery, with a beautiful view of the gardens. It became unofficially your study many years ago, though sometimes Felix would use it too if he had some kind of Summer project he had to attend to. But now it was yours, set up with a bulky computer for the occasional emails from your family business that you were becoming slowly more involved in. Mostly, however, you spent your time thoroughly poring over these dossiers of guest lists with attached relevant information, committing all of them to memory.

After spending most of the day high, you felt guilty enough to get a head start on the Summer that evening.

But just before midnight you'd needed a smoke.

Oliver and Venetia painted so pale in the moonlight, Oliver half dressed and clearly ready for bed, Venetia with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders that you knew she wouldn't have brought herself. It doesn't seem to be a particularly deep conversation, but you think you can see Venetia smiling, and a smile like that can never mean anything good. Surely she'd told Oliver some pretty lie about why she was out there, but her room was on the other side of the house.

Oliver is unconventionally wonderful, and she is, and forever will be, Venetia Catton.

He will fall for her tricks, and you're sure part of her, just like her brother, just like yourself, would fall for part of Oliver's unsuspecting charms.

Just like she said she had with Eddie.

No, this was deliberate, you were sure; Venetia was playing this dangerous game again.

Retiring back to your study, you make sure to keep the door ajar to hear of anyone coming through the gallery. Saltburn is a creature that groans when you tread in the wrong places; you, like Duncan, had long ago mastered the art of moving around the house in total silence. None of the Cattons had ever felt it a necessary skill to learn. Oliver hadn't even been here a day. His footsteps practically echoed like drum beats.

"Everything okay, Ollie?" You shoot for casual, voice loud enough that you know he'd hear it in the quiet ambiance of the night, but that it wouldn't disturb Felix. The footsteps stop. There's no tell-tale creak of his door. Then, he moves towards you.

"How'd you know it was me?" Oliver, at your door, is shirtless. Oh. Right. Of course he was. He had been in the garden only moments before.

"I saw you downstairs," you say, trying to regain your train of thought. It's the easiest for him to digest, and most of the truth. He hadn't seemed to like the thought of you knowing his prescription earlier, even though you were just embarrassed to admit you'd stolen his glasses for a few days back in the first few months of meeting him, throwing enough money at an optometrist that they'd figured out his prescription from his current glasses. Right now you didn't want to tell him that you had spent enough time here that you could distinguish the Cattons from their staff, and distinguish each of the Cattons by footstep alone, and that Oliver's was so blatantly different to everyone else's that it was easy to deduce it was him. No, you don't say any of that.

"Oh," Oliver says awkwardly, shivering a little. Despite the heat of the day, it had cooled off considerably, "I spotted Venetia down there, I thought she might have been sleepwalking."

"Was she?" You ask with an automatic little smile, not wanting to give away how much you knew this to be Venetia's game.

"Said she was looking at the moon."

A sight you knew was perfectly visible from her own room. But you bite your tongue on that.

"So no?" You let the smile ease to something less robotic, something knowing, and Oliver sheepishly shook his head. Settling back in your chair in the lamp light, you look him over. Had he always looked so... you remember how he'd looked in the moonlight of your room and you have to look away, lest you get yourself flustered.

"Are you alright?" Oliver speaks up, taking a step into the study, finally letting himself look around. "Thought you'd be in bed."

"I'm meant to be," you admitted, "but I was getting ahead of this year's Summer schedule," you gesture to the book, and Oliver finally comes and joins you. He leans down over your shoulder, squinting at the pages, your shoulder pressed to his hip. He squints a little longer. Ah, "you're welcome to have a good look at it tomorrow," you offered brightly, pointedly not saying when you're wearing contacts and actually able to see, but Oliver thankfully seems to take the hint, even if he's still clearly awkward about the reminder. His hand then comes to rest on your shoulder, looking down at you and the way you're glowing in the gold light.

A moment passes; there's something on his mind, but you'll never push. Eventually it always comes out. It doesn't take long this time at least.

"Felix brought someone else to Saltburn, didn't he? Before; not just you," Oliver says softly, eyebrows knitting together. Fucking Venetia, you thought ruefully. Some of it must show on your face, because Oliver's hand comes up from your shoulders, thumb against the faintest scowl that has wrinkled your brow.

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing really," he says faintly; while his expression is no longer concerned, there's something about the way he's watching you, cataloguing every small moment and movement of your face, each looking in your eyes, everything about you and your reaction that makes you feel... studied. Catalogued. Seen. You don't flinch away, don't move, just let yourself react, and let Oliver watch all the while. Then, after a moment, his hand is moving again, holding your chin, thumb running so gently over the curve of your lips, "called me lucky is all," he mumbled, as if transfixed by your face, by the way you're allowing this moment to go on, "said you didn't even like the last one." His words dip with disdain as he recalls what Venetia had said; what a snitch she was, you found yourself thinking.

"You need to be careful, Ollie," you tell him faintly, warning on your lips as you found yourself biting your tongue on a past that you don't feel is yours to really speak on. It was true that you had never been best friends with Eddie, but you were still rather fond of him. Even if that fondness was born from Felix's. Even if you were glad to be rid of him. Even if he hadn't even made it down the driveway before you were sending emails and worming your way into the Oxford administration usernet.

"Careful of the cold-blooded Cattons?" He asks, voice surprisingly idle, as if bored by the warnings, unphased by them. Where had his earlier trepidation gotten to, you wonder, right as Oliver gently caresses your cheek, "or should I be careful of you?" There's something in his voice that you're sure you'd only heard when he was looking up from between your thighs.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself meeting his curious gaze. The lamp paints his cool skin gold. One conversation with Felix and his hesitancy is gone. It's like you picked up right where you'd left off with each other before Felix's jealousy had awoken. It's actually a little infuriating, bordering on embarrassing, how taken you are with Oliver's quiet confidence.

After a moment in which you struggle to find the right words, Oliver actually smiles at you. It's almost condescending, like he understands the effect he has on you in these moments.

"Don't be jealous, pet," he tells you. Immediate, flustered shock flashes across your face before you can even stop it. But he doesn't tease, doesn't draw out the moment, he simply lets you breathe in and adjust to the moment, to his use of the nickname.

Saltburn creaks, the tell-tale noise of the old house settling into its foundation; Oliver, unfamiliar with the way the Estate echoes it's own, predicable, discordant melody of a night, looks to the door with sudden nerves once more. Something about his momentary uncertainty of his surrounds reminds you to breathe, to settle yourself like the house you practically grew up in.

You give a tired smile like it's all merely a joke, closing the dossier on the table in front of you.

"You should go to bed, Ollie," you tell him, voice nothing but warm and gentle, "we both should." Oliver ducks his head obligingly, stepping back from your seat to give you space, but still waiting patiently for you.

Once the lamp clicks off and the two of you are drenched in darkness, Oliver's voice cuts through the darkness as the two of you make your way to the lighter, long gallery.

"It must be nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you don't have to pretend."

"Pretend what?"

"You know, the thing that's going on with you and Felix, whatever you want to call it." He says it so casually that you respond without really thinking. After all, he had a point; it's one of the many reasons you loved Summers at Saltburn.

"I don't even know the right words for it," after a long moment to think, you admit sheepishly. Then, moving to the long gallery that's still dimly lit, you look to Oliver with mild confusion as you fully process his words, "you... know?" Oliver, shirtless and in his pyjama bottoms, leans casually against his doorframe with a coy little smile. "How much do you know?" His smile grows wider; even from here his eyes look like they're shining with amusement.

"I don't think that kind of talk's appropriate for polite company," he teases, and you can feel your heartbeat racing. Sure you weren't careful at university, but you thought you'd at least convinced everyone it was platonic. Somehow.

"What- Oliver what does that mean? What have you seen or heard or -?" You babbled, flustered beneath his knowing gaze that suddenly burned with desire.

"Don't you want to be wanted anymore?" Is all he offered, simply wishing you a good rest of your night, slipping into his room. You're left flustered and speechless and honestly getting a little hot and bothered trying to figure out exactly what he was implying, and what he had seen.

Back in your room, you flick on the lamp on your side of the bed, trying to remain as quiet as possible as to not disturb the already sleeping Felix as you undress yourself, searching for your pyjamas. You're so in your head thinking about the encounter you'd just had with Oliver, trying to understand all the implications he left unsaid, that you don't even hear Felix yawning and shifting in the bed, half woken by the light.

"Hot," he mumbles after a long, appreciative hum, wearing a wide smile that would have bordered on leering if you didn't know him better. Actually, it was leering, but if anyone was allowed to leer at you it would be half asleep Felix, "this is perfect," he muses, pulling back the blankets to make room for you on the bed next to him, "you can stay like this; come here, don't worry about the pyjamas, no-one cares about them -" and you're more than happy to tuck yourself up against him like this. Pyjamas were more a habit than anything else, and Felix draws shapes on your bare back as you're both falling asleep.

Yes, you think to yourself as you're drifting off, it is nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you didn't have to pretend.

The next morning you decide to chalk Oliver's boldness and implications up to the late hour, and don't feel the need to mention it over breakfast. Or, well, not all of it.

"Is there something wrong with the toast, pet?" Pamela asks gently across the table, her big, doe eyes boring into you where you'd been glaring down at your plate for the past five minutes. Venetia and Farleigh have been talking quietly together on Felix's other side, clearly comparing notes on Oliver already. Looking up at her just as the other two go quiet, you try and reassure her that everything's fine, even if your face hasn't quite gotten the message.

"Come on, shouldn't you just be happy that -" Venetia starts, but you cut her off before she can say something demeaning about either yourself or Oliver, knowing her too well to trust her mouth at any time of day, even over breakfast with the whole family.

"I am happy Ollie's here, Ven," you told her flatly, leaning forward to level an unimpressed look at her around Felix, "less thrilled about you being weird and coquettish outside my window," even though your façade doesn't show it, you're pleased by the pleased little cackle Felix covers with a sip of his drink, "do they not have the moon on your side of the house?" You snipe, and Venetia immediately rolls her eyes.

"See, I told you," Farleigh clicked his tongue pointedly, refusing to look at you in this moment, "possessive."

"Existing in my own home doesn't make me weird," Venetia gives a mean, humourless smile back, "and talking to our houseguest after he approached me doesn't make me coquettish."

"It does when you're doing it in that little, damn teddy nightgown and talking shit about me!"

"Christ, Vee," Felix sighed with faint disappointment. While your ribbing could be construed as playful or even jealous, Venetia always took Felix's negativity to heart. Not that he'd ever been able to tell that; Venetia always did well to hide her hurt behind further, thorny barbs.

"I wasn't talking shit," she sighed, terribly exasperated all of a sudden, "I just told him you were like one of those angry, little purse dogs Paris Hilton carries around," Venetia said without a hint of apology or remorse, "which of course makes Felix Paris -" Felix tears his slice of toast in half and jams both halves into Venetia's cup of tea without warning, causing her to shriek with absolute indignation.

"Felix, please," Elspeth sighs from beside Pamela, who'd all but leapt from her seat with shock, watching as two of the staff suddenly swarmed the flustered young woman to start cleaning the spilled, soiled drink from the table.

"'Felix, please'?" You huff mockingly under your breath before your best mate even gets the chance to be indignant for himself, "Venetia, please," you correct haughtily, though you're quietly glad that Elspeth has chosen to pointedly ignore you. However Venetia herself casts her gaze to you and Felix, both of you wearing near identical, childish looks of irritation, to which she responds in kind. Venetia sticks her tongue out at you both.

Pamela just watches Venetia's poor teacup despairingly as it's whisked away. Elspeth sighs deeply, and asks if anyone had informed Oliver what time breakfast would be. It had slipped your mind, and judging by the look on Felix's face, it had slipped his as well.

By the time Oliver joins you all, the tense atmosphere had disappeared, easing to something light and bright as you and the Catton family looked forward to the day, and to helping Oliver get properly acquainted with the Estate. During the discussion, the planning, you make a mental note to find one of the many beautiful books on Saltburn and the intricacies of it's heritage for Oliver to have a look at if he wanted to. While the idea of researching one's holiday home may not sound like the greatest idea of fun to most people, getting familiar with the house your best friend always took for granted made you feel like you understood it better, made you feel like you knew what you were settling yourself amongst.

"Y/N, dear, is that copy of Percy Bysshe Shelley's poetry still amongst your collection?" Sir James brings up, his eyes bright and wide. The book in all it's aged glory is sitting on your shelf in Oliver's room at that moment.

Very suddenly you're hit with a rush of affection, and the memory of a sweet summer afternoon, of being captured by Love's Philosophy written so simply on those pages. Those summer afternoons turned into evenings and the maze became the kind of magical only you could seem to feel, but that Felix would always indulge you in. Oh. You had to bring Oliver along, see if he could feel it too.

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, giving Sir James a smile across the long dining table. He seems delighted, apparently having read Percy Shelley's biography not to long ago, and has since wanted to reacquaint himself with the poet's work. For a moment, Venetia lights up with genuine interest and intrigue; for as long as you'd known her, she'd shared her father's passion for history, both harbouring a peculiar fascination for the sordid private lives of prominent creative figures.

Several years ago, Venetia had gifted her father the biography of Howard Hughes for Christmas; the following year, Sir James had pulled enough strings to get them both in attendance as VIPs for The Aviator's world premiere, the film based on that very same book. Venetia says the best part was meeting and having drinks with Leo DiCaprio; the only photo that she got properly printed and framed from the premiere, the one of her and her father beaming, says she's lying. They still spend hours in the library together when James isn't working. Venetia almost seems to be relaxed in those moments, from what you'd observed.

Oliver is back to being his quiet, awkward self when he finally makes it to the table, all fidgeting and uncertain steps towards the only empty chair at the table. Venetia lights up a cigarette as a new teacup is placed in front of her, both she and Farleigh observing Oliver's every movement with anthropological curiosity. So, instead of looking at either of them, Oliver looks to you, giving an almost nervous smile as he sits gingerly.

The mood is almost cripplingly uncomfortable.

Oliver tries to order a full English breakfast; Duncan looks like he'd just called his mother a cunt to his face.

The second hand embarrassment at the failed formality makes you feel like you're seconds away from some kind of empathetic anxiety attack, so you jump to your feet as the rest of the family act like they really live in a reality where every other person knew every secret high society script they were born knowing. They recover, but not quick enough for Oliver to not be tense, nor for you to not have made your way to the breakfast table on the side.

"Breakfast is on the side, darling," Elspeth says with an almost forcibly bright air, but falters as you call out that you've got it.

"You don't need to do that -" Oliver mumbles awkwardly, but is cut off when Venetia starts actually barking at you with a wide, mean smile.

This time, Felix picked up one of the cooked tomato halves from his plate, squishing it in his hand over Venetia's new cup of tea, letting the pulpy remains splatter into her now second ruined drink that she couldn't cover fast enough.

"How would you like your eggs?" Duncan ignores the petty siblings as the poor service staff once more whisk away Venetia's teacup, much to her exasperation. Oliver looks to the butler nervously, wondering if this was a joke or a test, assuring him that he could get them himself, but it's Farleigh who cuts in, voice like ice.

"The eggs are made for you," he explains coldly, barely looking up from whatever he had been working from, but his gaze flicks from Oliver's nervous expression to you, over his shoulder, carrying a plate loaded with food and scowling at him and his tone. Finally, convinced that it wasn't a joke, Oliver awkwardly asks for fried eggs from Duncan, who complies, and simply seems glad that the interaction had ended. When you put the plate down in front of Oliver, he glances up at you, almost looking apologetic.

"You really didn't have to -"

"I know," you responded cheerfully, giving his shoulder a squeeze, "you can get yourself breakfast for the whole rest of Summer, but it's your first day."

"You're very kind, very good to me," Oliver looks up at you through his lashes, blue eyes shining, grateful, stumbling through his words, "you- you're very good." For just a moment there's a flash of something more deliberate in his eyes that the others don't seem to see, and he watches the way the praise hits you with intent.

"Oh my god," Venetia groans across the table, "it's like you want me to bark at you -"

"Venetia, I have more tomatoes," Felix warned without even looking at her, but pointing sharply to emphasise his words. You thanked him airily as you returned to your seat and he beamed at you while his sister called you both terribly childish. She did not appreciate being reminded that she was the one barking in the first place.

It's Felix who breaks the tension to tell Oliver about the earlier discussion about the Percy Shelley biography, but it's Venetia who brings up the story of the poet's doppelganger. As she regales them all with the story of the housekeeper seeing the image of Shelley waving at him out of the window before realising the poet was in Italy and he was on the third floor, she tells it as if it's simply some scandalous gossip. Felix Catton, in possession of something of a rabbit heart when it came to anything remotely spooky, begged his sister to stop, even going so far as to cover his ears, but she seemed to enjoy getting under his skin, blithely ending the story with the housekeeper drowning only hours after the event.

While Elspeth announces that the story gave her goosebumps, and you admit it did send a shiver down your spine, Farleigh blurts out, without looking up from his notebook -

"I heard he fucked his sister."

While Sir James clearly didn't appreciate the addition, it's surprisingly Oliver who finds his voice.

"I think that was Byron."

The certainty of the correction is enough to get Farleigh to actually look up from his work. That's not how this was meant to go, at least that's what you think is on Farleigh's mind. Very rarely was Farleigh corrected at Saltburn; either the Catton's weren't as well researched on whatever he was spouting nonsense about, or they simply didn't care, but the point is Farleigh wasn't corrected at Saltburn. Farleigh could get away with the little white lies he told for fun here. He certainly wasn't fact checked by a newcomer at breakfast with the whole family.

When Oliver looks away from Farleigh, across to you and Felix, he sees the near identical smug little smiles you're both giving him. Both of you look rather pleased, and you see him almost grow rather flustered across the table. At least until Duncan sets a plate of fried eggs down in front of him.

Oliver's face falls, fork prodding the warm, gooey yolks almost like he's cautious of them.

You're back to watching, to observing and cataloguing further information about your guest. Runny eggs make Oliver sick; he looks it too, or perhaps that's simply the discomfort that comes from knowing he'll have Duncan's intense presence looming over him to take away what he'd just so kindly brought. Skin prickling with discomfort and desire to help, despite knowing there was nothing you could do, you fidget and try to finish your own food.

"Think I might head down for a swim after this," you hadn't, but you needed to say something to break the silence. Venetia and Felix are both quick to jump on the idea with enthusiasm, and Farleigh reluctantly agrees, if only to not feel left out. Across from you all, Oliver's trying to make himself as small as possible as he works on the breakfast you'd brought him. Never assuming, always waiting for an invitation, even now - "you game, Ollie?" You grinned.

Of course he was.

All you could think about as you searched for your nice bathers was how different Oliver was from last night. Then, your mind wandered back to that conversation, to all he had said, all he had implied. Catching a glimpse of Felix, already ready in just his swim trunks, towel slung over his shoulder, leaning and looking so effortlessly gorgeous and tanned already in the doorframe, you think of Oliver's implications. Clearly he'd seen enough of the two of you in private to understand the extent of your actual relationship, and considering the shit you got away with in public, and how both you and Felix admittedly couldn't be too bothered with things like closing the blinds when you have other things on your mind, you've got something of an idea of what Oliver may have seen. No, it wasn't appropriate for polite company.

But he'd slept with you, had seen and possibly heard you with Felix, and clearly had a thing for Felix himself. Why was he holding back? Why was he continuing to tease you the way he had last night? What kind of game was he playing?

Fine, if Oliver wanted to be a tease, wanted to play games, you could more than match his energy.

One of the many skills you'd picked up from a life spent next to the effortlessly attractive Felix, was learning how to put in the effort to appear effortlessly attractive even in comparison, in any situation. Of course you were hot, that was a given, but there was an art to the way you moved and smiled and behaved and posed and focused attention on yourself like it was a science you'd absolutely perfected.

Which is how Oliver, the last to arrive to the little, wooden jetty by the lake, found you laying out, glittering and glistening with water as the droplets clung to you, had your flattering bathers clinging to you in just the right way. Feet hanging over the edge, you arch your back just enough to tilt your head back, to watch him approaching upside down. Hands appearing casual, but carefully placed, one rested on your hip and lower belly, while the other reached out to give him a wave, your smile wide and sharp.

The others greet him, and though his gaze momentarily flicks to them, it always returns to you. Your back arches higher as you laugh, almost lifting you up to sitting, but you lay flat when he's on the jetty, when he's standing over you with a curious look.

"Hello gorgeous Ollie," you say with a teasing grin, "was beginning to get worried we might have lost you in there," you tell him, at least trying to look like you were trying to keep your expression serious, "its a big house."

"Are you high again?" He asks, and your smile grows all wide and sharp and amused. You shake your head.

"Why?"

"No reason," he says after a beat. Again there's quiet, apart from Felix and Farleigh squabbling over something trivial back on the grass. Oliver examines you, unashamedly letting his gaze roam down your body, the way you've displayed yourself so almost casually.

"Everything alright, Ollie?" You ask after a moment, reaching out to gently touch the side of his knee, contact, reminding him all at once to get out of his head, that this was reality. But your voice drops low enough that the others wouldn't hear, hand coming away, breaking the contact as you level a Cheshire smile at him, "is there something you want?"

Already it's worth it, since you see the exact moment Oliver realises what you're playing at. There's a sharp intake of breath, but an appreciative look in his eyes that quickly flick down your body once more. Then, he turns away, face quickly turning red as you all but cackle with glee.

The game has begun.

If all Oliver Quick could bring himself to do was watch, you'd put on a fucking show.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

197 notes · View notes

sammyboyimagines · 4 months

Text

Cold Embrace

Astarion x Fem!Reader

//ahh! first time writing for BG3 since I started playing in September. So excited to write for all the characters! This takes place somewhere in ACT 2.

Summary: Astarion had a nasty habit of taking every moment to scrutinize your actions. But in a moment of forced closeness, you have no choice but to talk it out.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of Astarion's past, mean!Astarion.

Word Count: 3.7k

The darkness of the Shadowlands brought on a new wave of anxiety through you the deeper you got into the thick bristle surrounding its past. It reminded you of your home, the war-torn town ravaged by bombing, raiders of all races, and rapidly spreading fires that enveloped any hope of survival. Shortly after fleeing your home and heading to Baldur’s Gate, you had a nasty run-in with some mind flayers, and the adventure started there. The hidden shadows loomed over the party as you made your way to Last Light Inn, a shiver running down your spine.

The land itself was terrifying, but the fact that this dark realm reminded you of home was all the scarier. A runway from a young age, you found solace at Baldur’s Gate under the narrow alleyways and the occasional generous storefront owner who was nice enough to provide some currency or even some food to spare.

Every time the party left for another day of traversing through the harsh darkness, a pit of nausea sat at the bottom of your stomach like a pile of boulders, weighing you down. The faint smell of sulfur and ash filled the air, the flames of your torch providing the only medium of safety. And a flimsy medium of safety at that…

“Hey, soldier…Everything alright?” Karlach was, of course, the first to notice the change in your demeanor as she followed closely beside you. Her fiery hot temperature warmed your body as she stood beside you, notes of concern on her features. “You’re awfully quiet for someone so cheerful..” Karlach trailed off, a slight hesitation on her part.

It was true, you were generally the sunshine figure at camp, even when spirits were abysmally low. “I’m alright, it just brings back some bad memories, being here.” As much as Karlach’s comforting warmth beckoned you to dump all the information about your past right on her doorstep and walk away, you felt Karlach did not deserve to be burdened by your dark past coming back to haunt you.

“Well, either way, I’ll be sitting by the campfire later if you want to find me and talk about it, love.” Karlach pulled ahead, her hands swinging freely by her side. At times it seemed like nothing in all the planes could shake her, it was admirable. The journey through the Shadowlands was fraught with challenges, yet Karlach’s unwavering spirit and warmth brought light to the darkest of days.

You wished to feel the same way, dreaming that the overwhelming fear of losing it all would dissipate. The sunny days as you travel with your group to the Mountain Pass aided with your struggles. Long journeys ended with warm nights that felt like a comforting hug against your body on the bedroll. You watched the sky go dark and the warmth of the sun faded to a deep chill.

“Let’s change up the subject, shall we? What are you going to do about a certain someone at camp?” Karlach attempted a whisper, her voice only slightly lowered as she asked you.

The certain someone was a nuisance, a nagging pain that refused to scare off no matter how many times you threatened him midst frustrating battles after he made a snarky comment.

Astarion.

Each passing moment with the group only fueled hatred for the man—his penchant for feeding on your insecurities whenever they’d rear their head. One particular source of embarrassment in the recesses of your mind was the moment you came upon some cultists of the Absolute on the path from the Emerald Grove.

They had a sword to you, the sharp edge pressed tight against the small of your back. “Don’t you try anything, sweets. Tell me what I need to know and you’ll go free. Where is the godsdamned grove?” A low rumble of laughter shook the evil creature behind you. In that harrowing moment, you had two choices; give up the information or die.

Without a pause, you surrendered and gave half-truths. Anything that would send them down the wrong path with the confidence of ten men. Perhaps it was a survival instinct or a depressing act of cowardice. Emerging from the encounter, you felt the crushing weight of shame lingering over you. How could a leader surrender so easily?

The sad looks of pity from your party members weren’t the worst of it, no. It was Astarion’s biting taunts that sunk the deepest, an assault on your confidence.

“Are you going to be like this whenever we face anything other than a mere goblin?” His voice was laced with venom while he spoke. He shifted his weight onto one hip, eyebrows raised as he blatantly belittled you with no remorse.

You had decided to come out of the situation with grace rather than retaliation that day, especially considering the words that left his blood-hungry mouth as you turned your back to him to continue your journey; “Wonder when she’ll decide to sabotage us again.”

You pressed on, ignoring the sting as tears welled up in your eyes. Those words echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of why you were here in the first place. The party followed closely behind, just out of view.

It’s safe to say that the vampire had been less than kind to you ever since you picked him up from the trail outside of the nautiloid. But even his harsh remarks did not warrant any reciprocity from you, instead an aching in your chest that could not be explained. An odd twist among the animosity.

You fingered your blade between your hands, absentmindedly admiring the smudges and tiny chips in its shiny silver exterior. The blade was a tangible reminder of the battles and hardships you had endured, the weapon’s previously shiny exterior now marked by scars just like you.

“What’s got you down, darling? Break a nail?” Astarion’s mockery dripping in amusement, the remark was yet another dagger stabbed into your back by your supposed “friend”.

“I can’t deal with this tonight, Astarion. Please, just leave me alone.” You sounded more sad than you intended, cringing at the sound of your own shaky voice. He didn’t get the message though.

After a quick silence, Astarion retorted with some venom of his own, like always. “Whatever, sulk all you want. We’re going to Moonrise tomorrow, and if you can’t handle it, then perhaps you should hang back at camp while the rest of us do the hard work.” A fake pout spread across his lips, his hands laid on his hips.

Astarion had no idea where his hostility came from. When you’re in his vicinity, he feels so vulnerable, like you know exactly what’s in his head. Your presence annoyed him simply because he didn’t know what to make of you. Why were you being so reserved despite his remarks?

“You know what?”

Your frustration finally boiled over as you threw your silver chalice onto the ground, the shitty wine spilling out as it clattered to the dirt floor. “I’m sick of listening to you spew all this bullshit, Astarion. You don’t know shit about me, not that I’d trust you not to use it as a weapon against me!” You approached him, a finger waived in his face as you followed his retreating footsteps.

“Now now, darling. You know I’m just teasing you-”

“Just teasing? You’re an insufferable asshole. Next time you want to approach me, it’d better be with an apology or you’ll leave with a wooden stake in your torso.” Your words caused an ear-splitting silence that only made you feel leagues worse. That threat caught the attention of the other camp members, Halsin and Karlach quickly jogging over to break it up.

Karlach dragged you away to her tent, allowing you to sit while she got set up for the night. “That was explosive! Had we waited any longer, you’d both be leaving with bruises and broken limbs. What in the hells happened?” Her outrage was understandable, but the red-hot fury rushing through your veins blurred any rational thought.

Meanwhile, Halsin stood in front of Astarion with his arms crossed. They were just out of earshot but you could tell Halsin was not pleased with the situation.

“You didn’t hear what he said, Karlach.” Before you could continue with your angry ranting, Karlach put a hand up to stop you.

“Uh-uh, you and Astarion must talk this out like proper adults. Can’t believe I’m the one telling you to cool off, but it’s true.” She let out a small laugh at your pout. “And don’t give me the puppy pout, soldier…”

“Tomorrow, find an appropriate time to talk it out- without violence, please!” She grasped your shoulders firmly as she directed you towards your tent. Settling down for the night, you nestled yourself into bed with a myriad of thoughts swirling in your tadpole-filled head. As usual, sleep did not come easy.

The next morning, you awoke to the grating sound of Astarion banging two pots together. “Wake up, fearless leader! We’ve got a lot of people to murder today!” He shouted from outside your tent, snickering at his own actions. You heard Karlach shout at him as she yanked the pots from his hands.

“Get away before I break you in half…” The threat was fake, but it scared him off either way. He scoffed to himself, frustrated that the whole group danced around your feelings as if you were made of glass.

Your journey through the Shadowlands continued as you approached Last Light Inn. The aching in your feet was unbearable, each new step sent a new wave of aching through your body. The inn was so close, a faint light cutting through the dense darkness. It had to have been at least a couple of miles away at this point. Through the dark, monster-infested forest, the walk had been anything but relaxing.

The ground gave out underneath you, the dry unsaturated dirt falling and giving way to a deep hole in the ground. Perhaps it was a trap, you thought. Glancing around in the small space, you managed to find no evidence of foul play. Maybe it had just been the ground weakening after so many years in darkness?

Either way, the groaning just feet away from you made you glance below you to see Astarion slowly getting back on his feet. “Oh, this is just perfect. We were almost there, but no, we had to step into this trap-or whatever it is…” he whined to himself, glancing up at the rest of your party that stood above you.

“Shit! Hold on you two, we’ll look for something to help you out. We don’t have any rope on us, so we’ll have to see if we can find some!” Karlach shouted down at you both, digging through her pack for anything useful but not success. She whispered quietly to Gale, who gave a quick nod in response.

“Um, guys? What’s the plan here?” You voiced your concerns, and worry spread over your features.

The pair left quickly, making their way to Last Light Inn as fast as possible in an attempt to get assistance. “Where the hells did they go?” Astarion spat out, an angry expression on his face.

“To get help, what else?” You shrug. “Karlach wouldn’t leave us behind.” You leaned against the dirt wall of the hole, rubbing your temples as you felt a headache coming on.

“Unlike someone in our little band.” Astarion chuckled at his own joke, meanwhile, you were anything but amused. Direct attacks like these weren’t uncommon, but they still hurt nonetheless.

Words felt short as you searched your mind for some witty response. “What did I do to you?” You asked, a softer tone taking over. Astarion paused, looking you up and down.

“Excuse me?” He wasn’t sure he heard you right. Were you playing the victim?

“Did I do something wrong that made you decide to criticize me for everything? Or is it just your favorite pastime to make me feel like shit?” A shaky voice that came out as you spoke surprised you. You’ve faced more fearsome men than Astarion, yet you can’t keep your composure enough to scold him for his bad behavior.

Astarion paused for a moment, his breath quickening in realization of his actions. He traced his surging thoughts for a cause- any motive for treating you this way. But there was none.

Trapped in the darkness of the sinkhole, the urge to escape drew heavier and heavier as silence fell upon the two of you. Rescue could be hours- days away, who knows what danger could occur if they don’t return?

You had managed to stay far enough away from the vampire so that your backs were almost touching, a warmth from your body sending heat waves his way.

“There’s got to be a solution. Do you have any ideas? A shovel?” You cringed at your own unpreparedness, you’d forgone taking the shovel on your journey and left it in the chest of your belongings.

Your thoughts were cut off by an unwavering silence. Astarion had no retort, no sarcastic teasing, nothing. You huffed out a quick breath, the dirt wall shedding particles of dirt in consequence. “Look, I know we haven’t been pleasant with each other ever since we met, but I do not plan on dying in a hole.” You started clawing at the walls of the sinkhole, dirt clinging underneath your nails.

“I know you hate me but we have to assume the worst and-”

“I don’t hate you.” A soft voice broke the seemingly never-ending silence from Astarion’s side.

“What?” You stopped digging for a second, not being able to hear your own thoughts from the rock and rubble hitting the floor.

“I don’t hate you…” His expression softened, and his sharp features dulled into a tender gaze.

“If this is some kind of cruel joke, I’m not playing a role in it. From the way that you speak to me, would it be unfair to assume you’re not a fan of my presence?” You did not want to chew him out, but this day could not get worse, so you neglected your inhibitions for now.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why, but I just can’t…” he took a pause to think about his wording because you’d surely dig your way out and bury him if he found himself offending you.

“I can’t uh- function when you’re around. I feel like you’re- ugh I don’t know, pitying me?” He asked as if it were a question you could answer.

“Pitying you-what?” You could hardly see his face, but you could slightly visualize his white curls as he stood almost a foot away from you. You could smell his cologne, a faint woody yet citrus smell that made you dizzy.

He may be beyond aggravating but godsdamn did he smell good.

The confined space seemed to magnify the tense emotions between you. It was almost intimate, the way you could practically cut the thick tension with a knife. “You’re just so, nice…” He started speaking again, a different tone in his voice.

Honesty.

Astarion could sense your anger before you erupted and shoved him against the dirt wall. A wave of heat rose to his cheeks- was he blushing?

“Are you fucking kidding me, Astarion? You treated me like shit because I was nice to you? You better have an explanation-” He cut you off by pressing you back and right into the dirt wall behind you. Any frustrated words fell on your tongue before you could say them.

“You pick me up off a random trail, offer me to stay with you, and treat me better than I have ever felt. After years of bullshit from my master, all of a sudden you come around as a result of these fucking tadpoles, and I just trust you.” He paused when he noticed the heavy silence from you.

The unexpected confession was fucked up, especially considering that he could have had this conversation in the time he’d been in your party. “Why-”

“As much as I love to hear your voice, let me finish.” With that, your stomach fluttered in response to him. Not just his words, but his large hands that pressed your shoulders gently into the wall. It wasn’t a hard grasp, you could absolutely pull away if needed.

“I have never trusted anyone in my entire lifetime. But from the moment I pulled that knife on you, I knew you were nothing but genuine. And that’s just it. Why are you so nice despite everything I’ve done to you? Just tell me you hate me, be rude.” He begged you.

“I don’t hate you.” You were copying him now, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“See! Pity. Just tell me you have some kind of ulterior motive and you’re not the first person who has shown me any kindness in over 200 years.” He was almost moved to tears at this moment. His hands shook, just mere centimeters from yours as he pleaded for any sign of hatred on your part.

Of course, he didn’t hate you. How could he?

The way you blindly trusted him had him suspicious at first, but the more he grew to know you, the more he appreciated it. It wasn’t so much the physical aspects that he enjoyed, though you were the most stunning woman he’d seen in his many centuries on Faerûn.

Your eyes were almost magnetic, the adoring glint in them when you gawked at a cat or anything else that caught your attention made him wish you’d glance at him that way. Hells, if you’d give him a single smile, he’d be reminiscing about it for the rest of the day. Feeling the sun on his skin for the first time in several years, and seeing the forest in its full color, neither compared.

His breaths were heavy with insecurity, a pit in his stomach as he gathered the courage to raise his gaze to you.

You spoke softly. “You know you’re not a bad person, right? You’re not a monster.” You shrug it off as if it were a fact that simply rolled off your tongue without a single residual thought. “I don’t think you’re a monster.” Your voice shrunk slightly, realizing how heavy this confession might weigh on a vampire spawn.

Astarion was speechless for a brief moment, an incomprehensible look on his face. “If only everyone else thought the same, dear.” He didn’t quite know what to respond with. After all he’d put you through, the feeding, the enemies he’d made along the way; he’d understand if you had run away in fear, but you didn’t.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks of you.” You frown at his words, the feeling of his body against yours is intoxicating, but you manage to push away your lust for the time being. “Hells, it doesn’t even matter what I think of you-”

“It does! Look…” He sighed to himself, removing his grasp on your shoulders. His hands found their way to your waist, resting on the slightly rusted metal armor you had acquired somewhere in the recesses of the Githyanki Creche. “I care what you think…” His red eyes glared down at you, his gaze flicking down to your lips occasionally.

“I’ve been unfair to you, dear. I held you to higher standards and scrutinized everything you did as if I could do it any better than you. You’re just uh- not like anyone I’ve ever met, and the fact that you can understand me better than myself it seems-” He paused, another sigh leaving his lips.

“It scares me.”

Astarion’s gaze faltered from his confession, a taste in his mouth that could only be described as embarrassment. Dragged from his thoughts yet again, your warm hands met with his face as you held his cheek. “I understand, Astarion. But you also have to understand that I couldn’t have possibly known your true intentions. I mean- that was some heavy scrutiny…” You snickered to yourself, watching the embarrassment on his face melt away into a softer expression.

The rest of the campaign had not arrived just yet, and the blistering cold air was near impossible to beat. Though Astarion’s body was not very helpful for warmth, it felt better than simply standing on your lonesome in the small dirt hole.

Between the close proximity and your hand on the side of his face, his mind was clouding with desire. “Gods, how could you stand all of it? If it were me I’d have bloody killed you by now.” He said with a pout on his face.

You thought of how to respond to that. Was it not sheer luck that you hadn’t murdered him near the nautiloid after he threatened you? Have you been harboring these feelings this whole time?

“Perhaps it’s your charm, or perhaps it’s the fact that there is little other option than to be friendly with you.” You held your tongue as often as possible during Astarion’s teasing, but it seemed like he finally understood.

“No no, I think it was the first one.” He stuttered out with a gentle smile, his fangs briefly appearing, shining in the faint moonlight. “You know…the rest of the group is going to be gone for a while. I know a way we can make time go faster…” The topic of your interest in him had always kept him awake at night, but now that he was positive you felt charmed by his words despite his endless mockery, he felt warm inside.

Astarion was not blissfully unaware of his past. Men and women would see him for one thing; his body. If he were to withhold, the opportunity for praise from his master, Cazador, would be gone. You were not simply a victim for Cazador, so why did he feel like he needed to use himself to keep you?

You put a hand on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “Baby steps, darling. First, I think we should focus on getting out of this hole.” The sigh of relief that came from Astarion’s mouth confirmed your silent theory about him. The man had been extra flirtatious to practically everyone he met, and as the time you spent with the rest of your part grew larger, you could see his disdain with every passing word.

A frown on his face afterward, brows knit tight together in thought. Regret.

“Oh, well-” He paused, swallowing the urge to shell himself out. “That’s very refreshing to hear.”

“I’m glad.”

#bg3 astarion #bg3 x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion angst #reader insert

217 notes · View notes

malewifeharem · 2 months

Note

CELEB JING YUAN?? ☁️

celebrity!AU jingyuan

彡- ,, a collection of my brainrots about dating jing yuan as diff types of celebs!

cw ⁞ none unless ur allergic to rich hot general fluff. not proofread.

an ⁞ this may be a little ooc, i apologise ehe. I TRIED PLEASE I PROMISE RGRGGRHRGHGRHG

imagine ceo!jingyuan picking you up from work at your office, patiently waiting for you in his car. he doesn't understand why you want to continue working when he's already mentioned countless times how he could provide for you. you'd never have to work a day in your life again! (lets pretend we're hardworking in this) he gets out of the car to greet you with a smirk before opening the car door for you.

"get in, princess."

you smile at him and thank him for sending you home again — this has become a habit of his, though he sees it more as his duty. you quickly arrive at his residence and were about to bid him goodbye when he suddenly stopped you — his hand gripping your wrist, reluctant to let go. you ask him what's wrong and he just has the saddest pout on his face, looking like a dejected, kicked puppy. (lion?)

"why won't you let me spoil you... i know how much you hate your boss, if you resign, you'll never have to deal with him again. i'll pay for whatever you'll ever want and need, darling," he murmurs sleepily, pulling you closer to him so he can rest his head on your chest. how are you supposed to say no to him like this?! you don't notice his smug smirk as he hears your heartbeat fasten rapidly — he already knows you'll give in to him this time. (sly mf)

imagine artist!jingyuan who sits in his studio everyday, painting his beloved lover onto countless numbers of canvases — his work forever preserved. they all lay untouched, scattered on the floor. he's displeased. you'd visit his studio occasionally and always find him grumbling and utterly frustrated with himself. usually, when he's hit with a creativity block like this, it passes within a couple of days but he's been in this state of discontent for weeks at this point.

"i've been painting for ages now but nothing is appealing," he groans.

you turn to look at the multiple canvases strewn all across the floor and you beg to differ but ultimately decided to stay quiet — you won't be able to understand an artist's grievances anyway. you comfort him to the best of your abilities and you can tell that he appreciates it a lot — the weight of his eyebags lifting slightly. you return to the studio a few days later to see it in a completely different state of mess, the canvases from before are now replaced by sludges of clay.

"oh, you're back. ah, so you've seen the ceramic statues. it's you, my love. it seems your beauty is so breathtaking that it must simply be portrayed in multiple forms of art."

imagine world renowned author!jingyuan who sits in his garden everyday, inscribing his poems on scrolls — the work forever preserved. he hums in satisfaction as he rolls up the piece of parchment, slotting it into a case before sending it off to you via his personal cycrane. you're already reading his first draft within a few hours and pointing out any mistakes he's made so carelessly — making sure to add sarcastic comments by the side to add salt to the wound. after a few days of corrections, the work is ready to be sold to the collectors — the two of you meeting up to thank them for the smooth transaction.

"must you be so cruel every time you mark my work, my love?"

"it's because you're so sloppy with your work, 'yuan. aren't you a famous author? hm?"

"sorry, i work best with a reward-based system. maybe you should give me a kiss for every grammatically correct sentence."

"if that's what will solve your problem then fine."

"don't act so cold, we both know you'd like that."

you notice that his writings have become longer and you haven't been able to spot any mistakes either. (rip your sore lips)

157 notes · View notes

northsoulss · 4 months

Note

I don’t know if you request are still open but imagine Elisa de Almeida with S/O that’s really pretty but has a resting B face, always look tired or about to say something rude BUT she has the kindest soul, she always has a nice attitude, and is basically unable so say rude things to son because she’ll feel bad. ( my friend is like this she literally is the nicest human I’ve ever met)

softie - elisa de almeida

(a/n : hi anon! thanks for the request! this is actually my first request so i hope i did it justice! xoxo)

all your life, you have been told that you looked like a bitch by those who don’t know you very well. it did affect you when you were younger, not understanding why people thought of you that way even though you never acted like one. eventually, as you grew up, you stopped caring and instead, you started to embrace it.

you stopped trying to smile more, to look more “friendly”. you started to relax your face, and occasionally get thrown judgmental stares by the general public when you are out and about. especially since you play football, word spreads fast that psg is housing a cold-hearted striker.

that’s what you were known as. “cold”. your friends know better though. they know you were fearlessly loyal, and literally the nicest, and sweetest person alive.

you were known to be powerful and ruthless on the pitch, not taking shit from anyone. however, what the media and the fans didn’t see were the fond smiles shown to your teammates after each game, the gentle acts of services that you always provided; helping your teammates get coffee, being the first the volunteer when people needed help with something. too bad the fans didn’t see you that way.

the day rumours did start to spread like wild fire that you were dating the well known charismatic defender marked the start of your reputation crashing down. there were comments from fans like, “oh my god, how do they even work?”, and you gotta admit that sometimes it does hurt.

whenever you post your usual content on instagram and elisa comments on it with her usual “❤️”, your comment section gets real messy.

it’s easy to say that people just didn’t get why or how you two worked. you, the ruthless, cold-hearted woman, dating elisa, who was charming and bubbly, and to say the least, very smiley.

however, a few months ago, sakina posted on her instagram story a video of elisa just talking, but there you were in the background, staring with a love sick smile. needless to say, you thought the unsolicited comments would start to dial down now that your fans have seen the other side of you, but that was not the case.

“hi baby!” your voice sounds out from the hallway, sitting down to untie your shoes when you feel elisa looming over you. you look up at her with an awkward smile, seeing her with an amused smile with hands on her hips.

“hi.?” you are now confused, and elisa only laughs, taking out her phone and typing something before showing it to you. it was an edit of you, which you were shocked that she watched.

“you watch edits of me baby?” you question, brow raised trying to see her reaction, but she only shakes her head, pointing at the caption instead.

“has our fierce striker turned soft.? what?” you read out, face scrunched up into a frown as you start looking through the comment section. aside from the usual thirsty comments, one in particular caught your eye.

“oh i knew she was a big softie.. what the hell do you mean you knew?!” you practically yell at her phone, utterly shocked. you watch the edit again to see what they meant and you saw it. the clip of you staring at elisa, with eyes practically forming hearts with a fond grin.

“so.. not so cold anymore eh?” she takes the phone back and leans down so that her nose touches yours. she stares into your eyes with her piercing gaze, and you immediately shove her away, obviously flustered. you mumble a “no..” under your breath, trying to continue with what you were doing before elisa interrupted you.

“well, softie. i think things are about to get alot more interesting at our next match.” she hoists you up from the hallway bench and kisses you, lips searingly hot. you only kiss back with just as much energy, groaning when she presses you against the wall. at least now people know you aren’t just some bitch.

#elisa de almeida #elisa de almeida psg #elisa de almeida fluff #elisa de almeida x reader #élisa de almeida #lgbtqia #woso #woso fluff #woso x reader #woso fanfics #wlw #wlw love #wlw post #psg #psg feminines x reader #psg feminines #psg women #psg football

222 notes · View notes

totheblood · 1 year

Text

imagine me & you. (one)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie is the florist for your wedding, and you wonder is love at first sight is real and if it is the universe hates your guts

warnings: occasional cursing, suggestive themes, angst/pining, could this be considered infidelity? maybe?, drug/alcohol usage/mention, you marry a man i apologize

a/n: AI AUDIOS AT THE END this is a series i'm writing that is completely based on the movie "imagine me and you" which is a phenomenal lesbian romcom... i would suggest that everyone watches it but i dont want the series to be spoiled for you.. this is sugar sweet fluff and i think is overall really cute. I DONT CONDONE CHEATING! this fic is.... a gray area tho so.. enjoy! I would greatly appreciate any reblogs, comments, asks you have about this chapter. thank you for supporting me through this journey!

This was the best day of your life.

The chapel was adorned with flowers, the smell of tulips heavy in the air. The streamers were hung between each seat with careful detail, just as you had planned it months ago. You could hear the quiet chatter among guests, all beautifully dressed for the occasion, and at the end of the aisle stood your best friend. This was the day your best friend became your husband.

You had met Sully in your first year of college when his best friend, Ezra, began dating your best friend, Tara. While Tara and Ezra’s relationship was short-lived, you and Sully had something nearly impossible to break. He provided a kind of comfort that only came with knowing someone as long as you had, and a promise of a life that you imagined for yourself.

You were in love with him, you knew this. This fact had never even come into question. You were sure of your decision every step of the way and you were positive that your walk down the aisle would be the easiest thing you had done in your lifetime.

The only thing that made you nervous was the fact that everyone had their eyes on you. As the doors opened and it was finally your turn to make your way down the aisle, you knew that this was the first day of the rest of your life, but not for the reasons you expected.

Prior to the start of the wedding, Ellie was already having a shit day. Her supplier hadn’t arrived with the shipment of tulips she needed for the shop that day and it was just her luck that her last batch was already loaded in the truck for your wedding. Dina had assured her that she would call and bitch out the supplier until he delivered them, but something was still unsettled in her gut. Reluctantly, she relinquished her power to Dina for the day and made her way over to your venue to set up early.

It was the silent morning that Ellie loved the most. The air was crisp with anticipation of what was about to happen, the quiet echoed chapel that would soon be filled with celebratory cheers and applause. The idea that eternal love may exist soothed her, but only temporarily.

Ellie had found herself in somewhat of a dry spell, her only intimate interactions being with her pillow. It wasn’t something that necessarily stressed her out, but it was something that she thought about often. It wasn’t that it bothered her either, she was simply growing impatient for her chance to have this kind of celebration of love. It is legal now, she reminded herself.

As the time for the wedding grew closer, Ellie found that she was in over her head. She assumed she would be able to finish decorating by the time guests started to arrive, so she could slip out unnoticed and no one would see her in her overalls, but she admittedly had paid too much attention to detail. It was no secret that she was a perfectionist, but she knew it would cost her.

Her anxiety only grew more and more as people started to arrive and sit in the aisles that she still was yet to decorate. By the grace of whatever was out there, she finished with little time to spare and had begun collecting her things but was stopped by who she assumed was a groomsman.

“Hi, you must be Ellie, the florist.” He reached out his hand, a broad smile on his face. His eyes were a stark blue and his face was perfectly symmetrical. He oozed confidence and Ellie could tell that he had never faced a day of rejection in his life. She had a feeling this was about to change.

“What gave it away? The flowers or my overalls?” She joked, reaching her gloved hand out to shake his, a polite laugh escaping from his lips.

“It was actually your indescribable beauty. I don’t know… I heard a thing about florists being hot. I’m Ezra, by the way.” Ellie wanted to scoff, throw up, do anything that would signify she wasn’t interested in the man before her, but more than that she wanted her tip.

“Wonder where you heard that. Didn’t see that article in this month's Florist’s Monthly.” She joked back, her sickly sweet grin still painted on her face.

“Well, just wanted to introduce myself. Hope you're staying for the reception?” He questioned, moving back after the pace of the room began to change. It was becoming evident the wedding was about to start and he needed to be in his place.

“It’s my job to be there so… I’ll be there.” She sighed, picked up the bucket that had scrap flowers in it, and began making her way down the side of the chapel, careful to not draw any attention to her. Ellie had never stayed this long before, she had never gotten the opportunity to watch the bride walk down the aisle and curiosity was getting the best of her. As she tried to sneak away, she attempted to get one glance at the girl about to be married.

As you made your way down the floral-lined carpet, a line was tugged on your heart. Something inside of you was telling you to look to the left. So you did. It was almost as if time stopped for a moment as you caught a glimpse of the girl. Her hair was half pinned up, little strands of hair framing her face, her lips in an adoring smile. She was all-encompassing. This is what you imagined love at first sight to feel like. It’s what you would have imagined love at first sight to feel like if it wasn’t your wedding day.

Ellie had to stop when she saw you, your beauty overwhelming her. She was sure all brides looked this beautiful on their wedding day, but she was also unsure of that at this moment. It was an almost impossible idea that someone on this earth could look more beautiful than you did at that moment. It made her heart drop to the pit of her stomach, even more so when she saw the comforting smile on your face drop as you locked eyes and you quickly turned away. Ellie assumed you hadn’t recognized her and became confused so she quickly and quietly made her way out of the venue.

When you turned back around to get one last look at her, she was gone. You were almost sure she was simply a figment of your imagination, an ethereal dream that you had hallucinated, but what you felt was real. Almost too real.

The wedding went off without a hitch, fulfilling every dream you had for yourself. As you kissed your now husband you felt a great sense of relief, the pit in your stomach from earlier being filled. Whatever feeling you felt when you and the florist locked eyes was now becoming a distant memory. The only thing you could think of was that you had done it, and completed this task. This was what love felt like. Right?

As the reception went on and the guests were full of liquor and good music, Ellie found herself wanting to introduce herself to you, as she did with every bride. She pushed past warm bodies till she found you hunched over the punch bowl, a ladle in your hands.

“Hi,” She began, causing you to drop the ladle and turn towards her. She stood with her arms by her side and a gentle smile on her face. She seemed calm. Warm. Inviting.

“Hi.” You replied, moving to stand in front of the punch bowl, a smile gracing your face.

“We- um, we haven’t met. I’m Ellie.” She introduced herself. She smiled as you simply responded with your name.

“I did your flowers.” She stated, assuming you were unsure of who she was.

“You did?” You breathed, your shoulders relaxing. “My flowers are nice.”

“Anyways, I was just going to get a-” Ellie pointed at the punch behind you, moving towards it but was stopped by your body standing moving in front of it, blocking it from her view.

“Drink.” Ellie said, suspiciously, brows furrowed in confusion as you gave her a nervous laugh.

“I wouldn’t.” You remarked through your laughs, slightly shaking your head.

“Wh- Is there something wrong?” Ellie questioned, unsure of what was happening right now. “I’m here to help.” She watched as you blinked for a second and your smile fell.

“My ring.” You told her as you turned around and picked up the ladle again, looking down into the punch. Ellie was at your side, watching as you stirred the red liquid, a smile back on your face. “I was getting some of this punch crap and-”

“Your wedding ring?” Ellie laughed, stealing a glance at your focused face.

“It fell off.” You giggled, a sound that made Ellie’s cheeks redden. “Off and in there. My wedding ring is in there.” You turned to her, the side of your lips curved downwards into an upside-down smile. You were impossibly close to her.

“And you tried the ladle?” Ellie questioned, humor in her voice.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, a huge grin still on your face.

“And you can’t empty-” Ellie shook her head, her internal monologue running rampant. “No, it's too big. Um, alright.” Ellie’s mind almost short-circuited when you laughed at her manic raving.

“Only one thing to do.” Ellie simply stated. “Cover me.”

“What?” You question, staring at her, confusion written all over your face.

“Use the dress, I’m going in.” Ellie answered, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt before pulling you by the waist in front of her. She tried not to be distracted by your consistent laughing, but reality shook her as she reached her hand into the punch bowl.

You stood in front of her keeping watch but quickly became alert when another guest began making his way over to you.

Moving to stand in front of him and Ellie, you looked up at him and gave him your friendliest smile. Clearing your throat you offered the man a polite, “Hello.”

“They say white’s the color of virgins… if I know Sully the only thing virgin around here is the olive oil.” He commented smugly, reaching next to you to pick up a plastic cup. Ellie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she fished around in the punch. What makes this guy think he can just-

“The old jokes really are the best aren’t they?” You quipped sarcastically, a groan nearly slipping from your lips. Ellie was laughing to herself at the sound of your annoyed tone and body being in such close proximity to hers.

“I’m Dennis. Sully works underneath me but not in the biblical sense.” He reached out and shook your hand, unwarranted confidence coming off him in waves. Just at that moment, Ellie felt the circular metal between her fingertips and pulled it out victoriously.

“You’re just like he described.” You told the man, it being painfully obvious (to no one but him) that you didn’t mean that as a compliment. Behind you, Ellie shook the juice off the ring and tapped the exposed skin of your upper arm, causing you to put your left hand behind your back, right in Ellie’s view. Carefully, Ellie slipped the ring on your ring finger, its rightful place, and found herself beside you again.

“Now, I need booze.” Dennis remarked as he picked up the ladle and scooped some punch into his cup. If it was anyone else, you would have stopped him. But it wasn’t.

“Hi.” Ellie made herself known to the man.

“Hi.” He replied. Ellie tried to ignore the way he looked her up and down.

“This is Ellie.” You said, a proud smile on your face. “She’s a florist”

“Name’s Dennis. But you can call me anything you’d like.” He outstretched his hand to Ellie, a dumbstruck look on his face. Ellie’s drenched hand gripped his as if she was punishing him for his behavior.

“And I’m sure I will.” Ellie smiled, holding back her laughter as he pulled his hand away and shook the sticky liquid off his hand.

The wedding was as eventful as any wedding could be. Family members were getting drunk, Ezra was flirting with as many people as he could, and you were wrapped up in Sully’s arms. The music had mellowed out and people had found their way back to their assigned tables, ready to eat. Everyone began eating, only looking up when Sully stood up, prepared to make a speech.

You listened as he went on about how long he had waited for this day, how much he adored you, and the future he envisioned for the two of you. You wanted to relish in all the attention and love he was showering you in, but your mind continued to travel back to Ellie and the brief moment you shared with her. Ellie was most likely miles away by now, but that didn’t stop you from envisioning her there in the crowd.

You were starting to feel guilty about it too. While your husband was boasting about how you were the best thing to happen to him, you were fantasizing about the girl you had just who you were almost sure was your soulmate. There was a thickness in your throat that only grew as Ezra described how he and Ellie had ‘hit it off’ and how he was going to ask her out. It shouldn’t have upset you but you did.

The following week your mind was still on Ellie. She hadn’t reached out after the wedding, but you were also unsure of why she would do something like that. It wasn’t like there was any specific reason for her to call you, but you still waited by the phone like she would.

It felt like a regular day for Ellie, she reached the shop early and was finishing setting up. She had just opened the doors when a man had hurried in with a frantic look on his face.

“Hello.” She greeted the man, wiping the dirt from her hands on the apron wrapped around her waist.

“Hi. You’ve got to help me.” He exclaimed frantically. “I need a flower. Just one. A good one. The best!” He watched as she continued to move things around the shop.

“Okay.” Ellie said in her calmest voice, attempting to appease the man.

“This is my last chance. My last chance flower.” He told her, looking around at the various flowers on display.

“Your last chance?” Ellie questioned, finally giving her full attention to the man.

“I really fucked up. Only the right flower can save me.” He explained. “What about a rose? A red rose. What would that say?” He pointed to the basket of red roses sitting on the table.

“Love.” Ellie shrugged.

“Love’s nice.” The man thought out loud.

“And fidelity.” Ellie added.

“Not a red rose, then.” The man pushed past the roses and continued looking.

“No, not a red rose at all. It’s too obvious.” Ellie agreed with him, eager to make a sale. “If this really is your last chance we need to make it something spectacular.” Ellie moved to the other side of the shop and examined what she had in stock. There was a slight knock at the door, but Ellie didn’t look up, focused on the task at hand.

“Be right with you.” She told the unknown guest.

“That’s fine.” You spoke, your voice causing her to stand up straight. You had a pink scarf wrapped around your neck and your hair pulled back. You had this glow to you that only came with what Ellie assumed was natural beauty. Almost suddenly the air in the shop was much lighter.

“Hi.” She breathed, smiling back at you.

“Hey.”

“How are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“Good,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Great.” You corrected yourself.

“I just,” you began again but were cut off by the man making his way out the open door behind you to look at the flowers that were placed outside the shop. “Came by to say thanks.” You smiled, awkwardly putting your hands in your pockets.

“It was a total pleasure,” Ellie told you, her voice soft. She stared at you for a beat, almost forgetting what she was doing before you came in. “Listen, sorry, I’m just dealing with-” She pointed to the man outside scanning the flowers.

“Oh, of course. Go right ahead.” You blurted out, moving away from the door so she could tend to the man outside.

The man looked at you through the window, smiling upon seeing your face. “What’s your favorite flower?” He asked, making you blink at him.

“I don’t know, I think I like tulips.” You replied, giving him the kindest smile you could muster.

“They’re wrong.” He said, finger in the air as he continued to muck about. He made his way back into the store as Ellie pulled a long, colorful flower from one of the silver buckets attached to the wall.

“What about this?” Ellie asked him, showing him the exotic flower she had in her hands. “Bird of paradise.”

“Keep talking.” He instructed her.

“Real name ‘Strelitzia’. Named after Charlotte of Strelitz. She married King George the third and had 15 kids. They never spent more than an hour apart.” She explained, looking towards you to see the grin you were hiding on your face.

“Okay, stop talking.” The man said as he abruptly left the store.

“Do you want to come to dinner?” You asked her, just as abruptly.

“ ‘m sorry?” She asked, confused by the tone this conversation carried.

“Dinner, with us. Me and Sully.” You clarified, her chest deflating a little. You watched as an unreadable expression clouded her face, suddenly feeling embarrassed by the question. “I mean you don’t have to-”

“I’d love to.” Ellie cut you off, her heart blooming as she watched your smile grow.

“Really?” You asked sounding surprised. “This Friday?”

“Yeah, Friday. Why not?” Ellie nodded, unsure of why she was agreeing to this.

“Great. I’ll just write down-” You moved to write down your address on a card you saw sitting on the counter.

“Perfect!” The man from earlier screamed, walking back in with a cactus shaped like a dick in his hands. “This is the one.”

You and Ellie both couldn’t help but laugh.

Friday came around sooner than expected. You had spent the entire day cooking, dancing around the kitchen, and cleaning up the apartment. When you told Sully about the dinner party you were hosting, he decided that it would be best to invite Ezra since he and Ellie presumably ‘hit it off’ at the wedding. Admittedly, that made you want to not only pull your hair out but also Sully’s. Instead, you simply thanked him for being so thoughtful and tried your best to make it seem like you were impartial.

The place was decorated to the nines. There stood long colored candles lit on the table, new spring placemats laid out, and bright pink tulips in a vase at the center of the table. You would never say it out loud, but the tulips were there for Ellie.

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed since you began cooking, but the sun was setting and Sully was already dressed for the guests. He sauntered into the kitchen, talking about how much he hated his job and threatening to quit for the sixth time that week.

“You say that every day, baby.” You told him, stirring the pot before pulling the spoon out, swiping your finger on it, and tasting the sauce. It was perfect.

“I know, but this time I mean it.” He told you, walking up behind you and placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Do you like Ellie?” You asked randomly.

“Yeah, sure. She seems nice enough. I mean Ezra likes her.” He responded, walking around the kitchen island.

“Ezra likes anything with a pulse.” You reminded him causing him to laugh.

“That’s true.” He smiled to himself. “But if you want her to stick around why are you introducing her to him.”

“It wasn’t my idea. You know this.” You said, pulling the breadsticks out of the oven.

“Oh, right.” was all he said before he popped a grape into his mouth from the bowl sitting on the kitchen island. You were about to scold him for spoiling his dinner but your thoughts were cut off by the ringing of the bell.

“That should be Ellie. Get the door please.” You instructed him.

“On it, boss.” He popped another grape in his mouth before opening the door for Ellie.

“Hey, Ellie. Nice to see you.” He greeted, stepping back so Ellie could make her way into the apartment.

“Hey. I didn’t know what you drank, or if you drank, so I just made punch.” She smiled, handing the bottle to Sully. From the kitchen, you were blushing at the reminder of your first meeting.

“Thank you. She will love this.” He thanked her watching as you came up beside him. Instinctively, he put a hand around your shoulders.

“Hi.” You smiled at her. The air was thick between the two of you and there was an awkward silence. Ellie blinked at you. You looked as good as you did the first time she saw you. It always startled her how her pulse raced in your presence.

“Come look at our new sofa.” You told her, removing yourself from Sully’s grip as you led her into the living room.

“Expensive new couch.” Sully corrected you.

“Can’t put a price on comfort,” Ellie told Sully, smiling as she plopped down on the couch.

“A girl after my own heart.” You smiled down at Ellie, watching as her cheeks blushed once again. Sully sat down next to her, handing the bottle of punch over to you.

“Do you believe in reincarnation? It’s just that my lover here thinks that you two have met before.” Sully asked Ellie, causing you to send a dirty look his way.

“That’s not what I-” You started.

“I think I would have remembered.” Ellie said smoothly, eyes fixed on you. You ignored the way your heart picked up speed and your face grew with warmth.

“Well, I’m going to put this in the kitchen. You two talk.” You hurried away, checking yourself in the mirror before heading back into the kitchen.

On the couch, Ellie fiddled with her fingers as she examined the room around her. It was bright and well-decorated. She could tell that every piece in here was handpicked by you and it made her feel more at ease as she and Sully made small talk.

“Anyway. How about you? Married?” He questioned. Ellie was unsure of how the conversation had led here but she so desperately wanted you to come back. “Ever been married? Ever gonna be married?” He continued to press her.

“Uh, no, no, and maybe now the laws have changed.” She chuckled as she watched the confusion cloud his face, leaning back on the couch.

“What do you mean?” Sully questioned.

“I’m gay.” Ellie flatly responded. Sully let out a laugh, before humming to himself. He didn’t know what to do in these situations.

“Lovely. Well-done.” He told Ellie, cringing at himself. Luckily, Ezra’s arrival had saved him some embarrassment.

The dinner went on as well as you’d expected. Ezra consistently hitting on Ellie, Sully attempting to tell Ezra that Ellie was gay, and numerous stolen glances between you and Ellie all occurred within the half-hour you were sitting there.

Somehow the conversation drifted to how much of a player Ezra was, earning small laughs from the whole group.

“Well, that’ll all change when you meet Mrs.Right.” You told him, pushing your food around on your plate with your fork.

“And how am I supposed to know when I do that? Hm?” Ezra questioned, looking straight at you.

“You don’t know. Not straight away, anyways. It just feels warm, and comfortable, and you hang in there and give it a chance. Before you know it, you’re like yeah, this is it.” You were unsure if you were trying to convince him or yourself, but Sully was smiling at you from across the table so you found comfort in that. “Must be love.”

“Yeah, I’m with you.” Sully agreed.

“Yeah, I’m with her too.” Ezra chimed in.

“I don’t agree.” Ellie blurted out, causing everyone to look at her. “I think you know immediately. You know as soon as your eyes…” She was staring intently at you as her voice trailed off and she averted her gaze from you. “Then everything that happens from then on just proves that you had been right in that first moment.” Her eyes met yours again. It was almost as if she was speaking directly to you.

“When you suddenly realized you had been incomplete and now you are whole.” She finished, her eye contact with you making something inside you stir. You were staring back at you, mouth hanging open. It was almost as if she saw through you at that moment and it made you wonder if she had been feeling the same way. Whatever you were feeling, she had felt too.

“Nevermind, I’m actually with her.” Ezra spoke up, breaking you out of your trance.

“Me too.” Sully laughed. “Okay, who’s ready for desser-”

“No.” You stated.

“No?” Ellie questioned.

“No, if you think that, then you think that everyone who doesn’t have all that business is just settling for less.” You argued, unsure if you were trying to defend what you had with Sully.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Ellie corrected you.

“That kind of is what you’re saying.” You fought back.

“I think she said it a tiny bit nicer.” Ezra quipped in.

“Cheesecake, anyone?” Sully said, bringing the cheesecake in from the kitchen.

The night carried on after that. You began to help Sully clean the dishes, but he insisted that he and Ezra should do it since you cooked dinner. You watched as Ellie made her way through the hallway, and out to the terrace, bringing her umbrella with her. Quietly you followed her, unsure of what your endgame was. You tightly wrapped your sweater around you, the chill from outside seeping through the walls. Ellie was sat on the edge of your terrace, staring out into the city. You watched her for a moment, content with just looking at her.

“What are you doing?” You called out from inside, causing her to turn her head and smile at you.

“It’s gorgeous,” Ellie told you, turning her head slightly towards the city beneath her.

“It’s raining.” You reminded her, the smile that was permanently on around her only growing.

Ellie closed her umbrella and ran back inside next to you. Watching you as you closed the door shut behind her. You both stood there for a moment watching the rain pour from the warmth inside.

“Sully won't come up here.” You blurted out. “He says there is a subconscious fear that you’ll throw yourself off, but he freaks when I get close to the edge too.”

Ellie remained quiet, smiling gently at you.

“Sorry about dinner.” You apologized for the tiny freakout you had.

“I’ve eaten worse.” Ellie laughed, trying to show you that she had no hard feelings toward you.

“I kind of went off.” You sighed, crossing your arms in front of you.

“You didn’t go off,” Ellie assured you gently, looking back at you with your eyebrows raised. “Okay, you went a little way off.”

This time you both turned toward each other, the air once again thick between the two of you.

“You’re wet.” You said simply as you rubbed the water off her clothes. Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as you touched her.

“I’m fine.” Ellie laughed.

“And you’re cold.” You told her, pulling off your cardigan and beginning to wrap it around her shoulders.

“I’m fine.” She plead again, reaching for your wrist as you attempted to put your sweater on her.

“You can have it, really.” You told her.

“I’m fine.” She said once more, finally giving up and you wrapped her in the sweater, pulling her close. If this was anyone else she would have kissed you right then and there. But you were you, and you were married.

“Hey, what are you guys up to?” Sully called from downstairs, once again breaking the moment the two of you were sharing.

Ellie took a step back away from you. This was a feeling she was unfamiliar with and that’s what scared her the most. She knew that you were going to be the death of her.

ai audios:

#mine #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

860 notes · View notes

iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months

Note

(Full HC)

Hello! I really do love your bodyswap HCs, so how about something about what MC ever accidentally bodyswapped with their familiar and how the M6 deal with that?

(And for the purposes of this ask, I would imagine said familiar as a Scout-like little white puppy? Like a West Highland Terrier! Or if it's simpler, then just "M6 when MC accidentally transforms into a little Scout-like puppy.")

The Arcana HCs: MC and their familiar bodyswap

~ as my anon friend suggested, for headcanon purposes MC's familiar is a Scout-like puppy ^.^ hope you enjoy these! - brainrot ~

Julian

He's got the wrong formula, but he's arriving at the right solution!

All he knows is that he walked into the room after breakfast to ask how you planned to spend your day off, and while it seems like you've already left without him, there's a new puppy on the floor!

Well hello, you seem lost, have you eaten? You're such a fine looking young canine, yes you are, you look like you could use some belly rubs, what a good puppy!

You don't get the chance to tell him the truth until lunch time. Until then, you're just his new pup, who he takes with him to work so his patients have a soothing furry companion while he treats them

Side note, keeping up with strides that long is exhausting. Luckily for you he's happy to carry you if you get tired

Almost falls out of his chair in surprise, concern, and embarrassment when you manage to communicate what's happened. The dog is you?!

Keeps having to stop himself from the previous baby talk, can't shake how strange it is to talk to a puppy like it's a person

So very relieved when you poof back. ... does he want to know where your human body was???

Asra

Put two and two together almost instantly

And now they can't stop laughing (no don't worry, they're taking this very seriously, they've established how committed they are to having you present in this world as yourself)

But you're so small and cute and don't think he doesn't notice the way your tail starts to wag out of control every time he shows you affection. It's snuggles and scritches time

Quickly figures out that it'll wear off on its own and (after confirming that your familiar has your body and it is therefore relatively safe) decides you're going on an adventure!

They're taking you on a walk, wherever you want to go

Cracks up when (acting on dog instincts) you pee on a nice patch of grass and immediately afterwards give him the most embarrassed look because you did it without thinking

Faust thinks it's fantastic. She's plopping herself on your back, and the chase the two of you lead Asra on through the crowded marketplace on the way to Selasi's booth is legendary

After you turn back, they keep commenting on what your ears/tail would be doing while you talk

Nadia

She can tell something's ... off

And it's not just the fact that there's suddenly a fluffy white puppy sitting where you normally do. It's the fact that said puppy seems like it's trying to communicate with her

She figures it out fairly quickly, and is rightfully alarmed

You're a dog right now! A cute one, granted, but not the person she likes to hold and kiss and talk to! If you're here, where's your body?!

This is all to cover for the fact that she's not very familiar with the care and keeping of dogs. She doesn't know what dogs need or how to provide it and she hates to admit it

... well, at least she knows what you need, and that's breakfast

She's terrified of losing track of you in the hustle and bustle of the Palace or of you getting crushed behind a heavy door, so she's carrying you down to the kitchens wrapped in silk and satin

She ends up taking most of her meetings out in the Gardens, where you're free to scamper and sniff and occasionally attempt to weigh in on state affairs (with limited success)

So, so very relieved when you turn back to normal

Didn't mind putting a collar on you as much as she expected to

Muriel

He felt it happen while his back was turned

When he saw you, he wasn't surprised, just disappointed

Or at least, that's what he'd like you to think. In actuality you're so adorable like this it's overwhelming him with cuteness, so of course he has to hide that behind a facepalm

No don't scamper around like that, you'll bump into something

No don't wag your tail at him like that, you'll strain something

No don't perk your ears at him like that, it's - it's - just don't do it

Inanna is delighted to play mother wolf to you. She's loping along next to you with the fondest sparkle in her eyes, standing protectively over you anytime you stop to sniff something

And she's also nudging you in Muriel's direction every chance she gets until he relents and picks you up to save your tiny legs

The woods are so much fun in this form it's not even funny

The chickens, not so much. They are not nearly as kind and almost bully you out of the clearing when you get too close to their chicken feed

This might be the first time Muriel has beef with his neighbors

Pretends it's no big deal when you poof back

Portia

Never before have you been so deeply grateful to Pepi's retained ability to speak. It saves you and Portia so much trouble and panic

Portia, thankfully, is the type of person who gets told the words "unexpected magic" and somehow hears "cool adventure time"

But first, daily tasks. She can put off work, but she can't sit still, so you're going to help her in the garden

That's right! She points at a spot, and you dig!

What follows is one of the most enjoyable mornings of your life. Dirt flies everywhere, Portia plants three new rows of carrots, and Pepi naps on the roof of the nearby shed

The bath afterwards is ... less enjoyable. The full-body scrub you get is delightful, but shivering under the weight of wet fur is not

You have never been scritched behind the ears like this and you never will again. You also doubt it would feel nearly as good in a human body, but why look a gift horse in the mouth?

Getting thoroughly brushed is Not Fun

Portia does go out of her way to find you a meal that is dog-safe and still appealing to human tastebuds, though, and she may or may not have tried eating without her hands to see what it's like

Lucio

He doesn't know what happened. He doesn't know until the end of the day when you poof back

What he does know is that right after you disappeared and he started to really panic, a perfectly adorable puppy appeared to keep him and Mercedes and Melchior company

He'll adopt you for the day while he looks for you

Mercedes and Melchior, thankfully, are quick to catch on to what happened and do a marvelous (if rambunctious) job of making sure you only get the best treatment

And oh, what amazing treatment it is. Lucio knows dogs like he knows the back of his hand

The ear scritches? Heavenly. The belly rubs? Mind blowing. Those suddenly appealing treats he hides in his pockets? Incredible

He can take one look at you and know exactly what your puppy body needs, in between his worried shrieks of your name

Mercedes and Melchior are eager to introduce you to the delights of being a dog. You learn how to fetch, chase, sniff, howl, play fight, chew shoes, and run off with Lucio's lunch!

Lucio will ask if you liked his natural musk when you switch back

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

106 notes · View notes

dawnisdreamlanding · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER 3

Ghost x Reader x Konig

Neighbor!au and Roommate!au

About me | Masterlist |

Author's note: Hey hey hey! It's been a while hahahs I actually have chapter 4 and chapter 5 planned out but i havent got the energy to write them :') All i can say is that everything in this story has been going too well right now... >:)

(Also if you have any fanfic ideas/ asks feel free to send an ask or dm me :D)

You’re waiting once again for Simon to pick you up from work. It’s now become an almost daily thing for a month now, the two of you. You’d finish work, Simon would show up in his pickup truck and occasionally the two of you would eat dinner together.

Okay, you do partially feel as if you’re cheating on Konig in some way by having dinner with your neighbor (Konig said he had a work emergency and he was going to be gone for a month or two), but your roommate wasn’t here to keep you company anymore and you weren’t willing to eat dinner alone after being so accustomed to the company you had.

Today, the atmosphere in the car seems a little different than the rest. Just a little, though. You decide not to comment on it and buckle your seatbelt before he starts driving. “How was work?” Simon would ask the usual question. “Fine,” you would reply tiredly with a sigh. The two of you would fall into a domestic routine in such a short time, yet neither of you ever really questioned it.

The patter of rain provided a relaxing white noise as the two of you sit in comfortable silence, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. The streetlamps glisten and you turn to see Simon in his balaclava that he wears only when going on missions.

“I’m going to be deployed. Tonight.” He finally breaks it to you. “Oh.” You reply, but you can’t be sure if it sounded sad or understanding. Maybe both. “Do you know when you’re coming back?” He shrugs, eyes still fixated on the road. “I’m thinkin’ 2 months at least.”

There’s another silence that follows, but this time around it’s filled with a lot of unsaid words waiting to be spoken into existence. Simon turns to look at you. God, he wishes he didn’t because the red from the traffic light paints your features in the best way, and he doesn’t think he could forget this moment anytime soon. “You’ll be fine without me yeah?” Simon finally asks. You feel like there’s a secret message lying hidden somewhere in the question by the way he looks at you, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

---

You spend your days without Simon and Konig counting. Counting how many days it’s been since they’ve been gone, and the times you accidentally cook food for two. Today marks the 2 month mark, and to be honest, you still haven’t gotten used to your apartment engulfed in darkness when you get back from work. You sigh.

---

Simon spends his days counting unconsciously. He takes another long drag from his cigarette and watches the smoke slowly disappear into the night sky outside of a bar the team decided to celebrate their victory at. It’s a little chilly. Winter is approaching, and he hopes you’re warm and tucked into your apartment right about now. Soap stands beside him, accompanying him. “You goin’ home for Christmas, L.T?” he says. Soap expects Ghost to say no, or to say something along the lines of spending the holiday alone.

Ghost gazes at the stars which is something he doesn’t really do since he was a kid and god, he swears he still sees your face as the stars twinkle. He hums. “Got a Christmas gift for someone. Gotta give it to ‘em somehow.” Soap’s taken aback at his answer but chooses not to pry too much into his private life. Not this time at least. Suddenly the bar cheers with happiness and the clinking of beer bottles. “Happy for ya, L.T.” Soap says as a small knowing smile spreads on his lips.

---

Ghost spends the time taken for the trip back to his civilian life decompressing and when he reaches home, he wants nothing more than the dinners the two of you had before he left for the mission. But he decides the moment his duffel bag hits the floor, that he really, really needs to sleep first. That doesn’t stop him from thinking about you though, cause he dreams of the moment when he picked you up from work in his pickup truck.

You’re ecstatic when Simon tells you he’s back. You prepare dinner, finally making food for two (or three, with how much this guy eats). And you’re basically skipping when Simon knocks on your door.

Dinner with Simon is calm yet filled with excitement and happiness. You both catch up on each other’s lives, and you tell him about everything he’s missed out on since he left. You tell him about the stray orange cat that found its way into your apartment once (you still have no clue how) and has now become a visitor occasionally — you leave out the part where you subconsciously named it after him.

You’re washing the dishes and Simon’s keeping the leftovers for your lunch tomorrow when the topic of long distance relationships get brought up. “I mean, it must be hard to maintain relationships, right? Especially since you don’t get to see each other for ages.” Ghost hums in agreement, a sign that you’ve learnt to understand that he’s listening to you intently. “I can’t imagine working in the military is any easier. Hell, I felt a little sad when you left too, I can’t imagine what your girlfriend would be feeling.”

“Don’t have one.” He says. And you smile a little. “Yeah, but imagine if you did. It’ll be like one of those old war movies.” You giggle at the thought and Simon joins you in washing the dishes. “Oh, my darling,” you say in an exaggerated voice of a lover. “I don’t think I could love you anymore. The pain is too much to bear!”

Your theatrics tugs the corner of Simon’s lips upwards and he looks at you softly, arching his brow. “Y’ love me?” his voice rumbles, and it sounds something akin to the taste of vanilla ice cream with caramel drizzled on top which is weird, because you’ve never really liked the taste of caramel. Well, not until now.

There’s a certain softness in this moment, you tell yourself. There’s this feeling that you don’t think you could forget this look on his face. You blink and he’s taken the soapy cutlery from your hand and starts to wash the soap off them. “I forget how much I miss my soft bed when I come back. And being able to sleep in a little longer.” He sighs and it’s your turn to hum along. “And I missed your cooking.” He says a little softer this time, eyes focusing on the bubbles as they get washed away from the water. I missed this, you think.

Taglist: @gojo-mochi

#ghost x reader #konig x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader x konig #konig x you #könig x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost cod #ghost x you #konig cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley

120 notes · View notes

writer-freak · 6 months

Text

Distraction | Vi x gn reader

Summary: You got injured in a fight and this injury was the gateway to a confession

Warnings: Gn reader, english isn't my first language, reader gets injured, Vi teasing you a bit

Wordcount: 900

A/n: Wrote this for my bestie who is a giant Vi simp. I am terrible at writing fight scenes but I did my best for this and I hope that it's at least acceptable.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more

The air was thick with tension, the distant hum of Zaun's machinery providing a gritty soundtrack to your fight. Vi's gauntlets crackled with energy as she exchanged blows with their adversaries. You were right there beside her, trying to hold your ground, but the underbelly of Zaun is a dangerous place.

A swing and a miss left you vulnerable, and the next thing you knew, pain radiated through your side. Staggering against a wall, your hand instinctively went to the fresh wound, feeling blood seep through your fingers. Vi from the corner of her eye saw you in distress and quickly took out the attacker in front of her.

With that person out of the way, she went in your direction, and sent your attacker flying with a powerful uppercut, then turning to you. "Hey, you okay?" Vi's voice was a mix of concern and urgency while she tried to look at the wound.

"Yeah, it's just a scratch." you muttered through gritted teeth, trying to play it cool. You still hadn't taken out all the attackers, and you didn't want Vi to look out for you while she should be concentrating on the fight.

She arched an eyebrow. "Scratch, my ass. We're taking care of this, immediately." Vi lunged back into the fight, her blows now backed with a protective rage. It didn't take long for the remaining opponents to scatter.

Then Vi returned to your side, her gauntlets powering down. "Come on, we're getting out of here." She grabbed your hand and you followed her through the dimly lit alleys before you reached a relatively quiet spot. Vi gestured for you to sit on a makeshift crate as she kneeled in front of you, rummaging through your bag for supplies.

"Let's see that 'scratch' of yours." she smirked taking your hand away from the injury. The wound stung, but Vi was careful while handling you even if there was still a certain roughness that was just a part of her. She worked efficiently, the tension of the fight slowly dissipating. Outside of the alley, you could hear the sounds of the city but at the moment you were just concentrating on looking at Vi and the concern that you could see on her face.

"So, how'd you end up with this?" Vi asked, not looking up from her task. "Lost my concentration for a bit, I guess." you replied, wincing as she tightened the bandage.

"What exactly made you lose your concentration?" she asked, slightly curious, knowing you're not typically that careless in a fight. Your face got a bit warm, remembering how you were looking at Vi during the fight for a second too long and ended up surprised by an enemy. You coughed slightly, trying to hide your embarrassment before answering. "Nothing, in particular, my head was just in the clouds…I guess." You mumbled the last part, hoping that she would just accept your explanation.

She raised a questioning eyebrow, obviously not accepting your explanation but letting it slide for just a little bit while concentrating on bandaging you up.

You would occasionally grunt, the pressure on your wound definitely uncomfortable, but you just bit through it. Finally, Vi stood up from her kneeling position, smiling satisfied at you. "So, will you tell me now why you actually lost your concentration?"

You groaned, expecting her to ask again but hoping that maybe, just maybe she would forget about it. You tried to come up with something but your head was just empty, which could possibly be from the blood loss. So you mumbled under your breath. "Well, maybe if someone wasn't so distracting in a fight, I could focus better." Then looking to the side not wanting to look at Vi right now. She leaned in closer to your face. "What was that?" She asked. You turned your head toward her, and annoyed repeated, "If someone wasn't so distracting, I could focus better."

She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Who, me? I'm just doing my thing, cupcake. It's not my fault that you can't help but look at me."

Her face was so close to yours that you could feel her breath, making you feel like you were overheating. Her expression was obviously teasing, she wanted to rile you up as much as possible, and it was slowly driving you mad.

So you took a deep breath, mustering up all the courage in you to retort. "Well, if you weren't always so captivating, I could concentrate on not getting messed up in a fight."

Vi's eyes widened, and for a moment, surprise flickered across her face. Then, a mischievous grin spread, and she chuckled, "Didn't know I had that effect on you, sweetheart." Your cheeks warmed, but you shot back with a defiant smirk, "Maybe you should pay more attention, then."

The banter continued a playful exchange of words between you and Vi. You two knew that soon you would need to get back out into the city again, involving yourself in fights, but just for now, you two were in your own little world.

divider credit: @cafekitsune

164 notes · View notes

thatstonedwriter · 2 months

Text

⋆｡˚ 「 Status: Online 」 ⋆｡˚

◉ Sinopsis; Loona's s/o is a popular YouTuber/streamer

◉ A/n- apologies for the wait, but I hope you enjoy!

── ˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘ ──

Being a popular online personality comes with its ups and downs. Adhering to regular posting and streaming schedules can be exhausting, but having Loona around always makes things much more bearable.

Loona will often appear in the background of your streams, and the chat is always quick to point her out. It’s almost turned into a kind of game at this point, a sort of “where’s Waldo” but specifically for your streams/youtube videos

Speaking of, Loona is usually willing to be featured in your videos, whether its a Let’s Play, or Couple’s React. Also enjoys just popping in, so there are videos where Loona is present in the second half, just because she decided to sit in with you in the middle of filming.

Avoids On-Camera PDA, but will (in some cases) allow it. She's mostly private with her affection so kissing or even hugging you on camera in front of people isn't something she's very comfortable with.

will become more affectionate if you have fancams/edits or people simping for you in the chat/comments- and by affectionate, I mean lowkey aggressive. nothing horrible, but you can expect to hear some playful threats directed at any simps you've got.

When Loona does appear in your videos, she’s a fan favorite; her dry sense of humor and vulgarity are surprisingly popular. She also doesn’t scare easy, which provides a comedic juxtaposition to your reactions if/when you’re playing horror games

Long editing sessions are a drag, but you can always expect Loona to make them more interesting. She’ll sit beside you, occasionally offering suggestions for what might make the video look or sound better. Having an extra set of eyes and ears definitely makes the process faster (though don’t expect much help when it comes to spotting mistakes- Loona isn’t one for small details- she’ll leave that to you)

definitely brings snacks and drinks for when you have to pull all-nighters

big fan of the "you cringe/laugh, you drink" premise, so she suggests that as a small series on your channel/stream

Absolutely makes fun of your ad transitions (if you happen to be sponsored) sits behind you and does that "blah blah" motion with her hand while you do ad-reads

Loona doesn't get paid much, but she absolutely saves up to try and get you new equipment for your filming set-up (if anyone asks her about it though, she refuses to admit that she cares so much)

── ˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘ ──

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss headcanon #loona helluva boss #helluva boss loona #loona headcanons #loona x reader #romantic headcanons #romantic x reader #writings.onthe.wall

88 notes · View notes

morganbritton132 · 1 year

Note

I was thinking about your angst post and how it's a little precursor to the TikTok saga-

What if Eddie's doing a live stream and for whatever reason, Ozzy's not around. Potty break maybe, he's usually no more than 2 minutes. But of course all it takes is 2 minutes for Steve to slip into a seizure, one of his bad ones. And the live catches enough of it before Eddie frantically tosses his phone and ends the stream. How do you think fans would react?

I’ve actually had a similar thought to this!

Eddie has never sat down and been like, ‘this is what’s wrong with my husband.’ Why would he? Steve is not a celebrity. He has no interest in fame, he’s deeply private, and it’s no one’s business. Eddie has occasionally made comments or referenced Steve’s health issues just because it’s apart of their lives.

Dedicated fans who take all these little throw-away comments and create a profile of Eddie’s life will connect the dots between ‘Steve gets migraines’ and why the lights are low in a video or ‘Ozzy is a service dog’ to the thud you can hear on a live-stream that causes Eddie to run out of the room. There have been many times where Eddie has been live and will drop everything, leave the room, and not come back for minutes to hours. He never provides an explanation of where he went or why.

Eddie’s live streaming in his home studio. He’s got his guitar in his lap and a notepad next to him, and he’s playing this little interactive game he does with his fans where they’ll write a song together. Steve’s not a common feature to live-streams like this but he’s slightly in-frame tonight.

Eddie’s writing down a lyric a fan sent in the chat when he’s suddenly hit in the face by a hand. He startles and opens his mouth to complain but when he looks at Steve, all he sees in the jerky motion of Steve’s arm as it spasms.

And he freezes with his mouth still hanging open. He freezes like he always does when it’s a big seizure because his first thought is never seizure, it’s always Chrissy Cunningham. He freezes so he doesn’t think to move his phone away immediately. It’s only a half-second that he’s sitting there with his mouth hung open and terror in his eyes before he springs into action, but it feels like a million years to him and the chat.

Eddie bumps the table with his phone on it, and it falls so all the chat can see is the woodgrain, but they can hear Eddie talk to himself as he moves Steve into a safer position. They can hear him talk to Steve about how it’s okay, “It’s a big one but it’s okay. It’s fine. We’ll shake it out and go to bed, and – and where’s Ozzy? Oz?!”

It is a tense two and a half minutes and then silence until Eddie picks up his phone, ends the live-stream without a word, and calls Dustin. He’ll find out later that Steve had let Ozzy out into the backyard and forgot about it. He’ll make plans to install a doggy door that they’ll probably never do and when Steve wakes up exhausted and not all there, Eddie will repeat every reassuring word that he can think of until Steve falls asleep knowing that he’s safe.

In the morning, he’ll see the outpour of people worried, concerned, sympathetic with their own stories of seizures. He’ll make a short video letting people know that Steve is fine. He’s resting. He’ll let his students know that he won’t be at school, but that he’s already writing pop quizzes if they aren’t good for the substitute. But Eddie will never tell Steve that the twenty thousand people in his live stream that watched him have a seizure are wishing him well because he doesn’t think that it’ll go over well.

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

#I think that Steve would hate to be noticed.#Growing up everybody was always watching him and looking at him and forming opinions about him based on how he looked and who his family #was and he just hates it. Then once Eddie got famous it felt like even more people were staring at them and looking for flaws and making #opinions about him without even knowing him. And now he has these health issues and his body will betray him and people will think that #he's weak or not capable and they'll stare at him and he hates it so the thought that Eddie's fans watched him have a seizure would be #mortifying to him so Eddie is not going to tell him about it #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson tiktok saga #sorry it took so long to respond to this one

943 notes · View notes

eksvaized · 3 months

Text

[ Previous ┃ Next ] [ All In One ] part 5, MDNI

Although tonight isn't your turn to take the first watch of the night, you volunteer. You are not tired, having spent half the day napping. Simon, however, is visibly exhausted. As he sits next to you, his weariness is palpable. You can tell by his drooping eyelids that are fighting a losing battle to stay open. His replies to your comments are sluggish. Most of the time after you say something, he just murmurs 'what', forcing you to repeat yourself since he didn't hear what you have said.

As you coax him into the bedroom, his gaze bores into you. A stern look fills his eyes, brimming with a concern that's hard to miss. "Just... just don't do anything stupid," he implores. His voice is weary yet laced with an unmistakable tinge of worry.

"You always tell me that," you roll your eyes and lean against the doorway. You watch as he unlaces his boots and places them under the bed.

Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, he turns to look at you. His gaze is steady and unwavering, despite his indisputable fatigue.

"I simply want you to be careful," he says, his words a mere soft murmur.

You find yourself utterly captivated by the depths of his brown eyes. They possess an alluring, almost dreamy quality as he blinks slowly, trying to fight off a sleep that's threatening to claim him. You see, as his gaze drifts downwards, drawn to your lips, and lingers there. This causes your mind to wander back to the kiss-that-almost-happened-but-didn't. Neither of you dare to bring up the incident. As the days continue to pass, you both keep acting as if it's a figment of your shared imagination.

After he diverts his attention, a shaky breath eludes you. Only then do you notice the tightness in your chest and the tension you feel in every muscle of your body.

"I promise, I won't do anything stupid, and I'll be incredibly careful," you reassure him and smile. He responds with a nod and lays down. Before leaving, you click your teeth in a playful manner, tilting your head to the side. A few loose hair strands fall in your eyes but brush them away with a swift flick of your fingers. "But... can I get one cigarette?"

"Take it. They're in my duffel bag," he says, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But leave half of it for me. There's only one left, and I'll want to smoke it in the morning."

Despite your initial reservations about smoking, you found yourself gradually drawn towards it. It brings a certain novelty to your otherwise monotonous routine. Every time you and Simon ventured out to scavenge for supplies and food, you would occasionally stumble upon forgotten a pack of cigarettes. These rare treasures were akin to finding precious gems in a coal mine, providing a brief, fleeting taste of luxury amidst the stark reality. After your last expedition, Simon found a full pack. But, with the two of you sharing, the cigarettes were depleting at a rapid pace.

As you sit in the kitchen, now and then cautiously peeking through the slats of closed blinds, the night stretches out before you like a vast sea of black ink. It feels as if dawn is an eternity away. Each minute ticks by at an agonisingly slow pace. Occasionally, to break the monotony of your vigil, you wander around the dark house. Clutching the knife in your hand, you scrutinise each room. Tiptoeing from one corner to another. Ensuring that no uninvited guests have sneaked inside.

You even muster the courage to glance through the peephole in the front door. Yet, aside from a stray dog that seems to have taken to circling the house in an anxious pattern, while a few loose biters skulk around the deserted, moonlit street, there isn't much to hold your attention. The world outside is still. The silence is broken only by the distant hoot of an owl or the rustling of leaves in the wind, adding to the eerie calm of the seemingly endless night.

You saunter back into the kitchen and sit on the sturdy wooden table that is placed near the window. Placing a cigarette between your lips, you pull out an old pack of matches. As you ignite the end of the stick, for some time, the nicotine distracts you from the quiet solitude. But then something outside captures your gaze. At first, you dismiss it as a mere illusion - a cruel trick conjured by your weary eyes. You've been awake for too long, you reason, which is why you should wake Simon before you unwillingly succumb to sleep.

But, after the third time, your eyes catch a flicker of something in the distance, you grow certain that you've indeed spotted a light. The unexpected sight of it amid the encompassing darkness startles you. As the pattern repeats, you identify the silhouette of someone meandering down the street. Squinting into the darkness, you discern two figures. One of whom keeps switching on and off the flashlight.

As they edge closer, the details become more distinct. You notice the presence of a dog dutifully trailing by their side. It's the same dog that you've seen before, the one that had taken a peculiar interest in your front yard, sniffing around with an intensity that suggested it was on the hunt for something. The sight of them approaching your house sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

In a sudden burst of adrenaline, you leap to your feet. As you do so, the half-smoked cigarette clutched in your trembling fingers slips from your grasp. It tumbles down, leaving a searing trail of pain on your exposed skin as the lit end grazes you. You hiss in response to the unexpected sting, but your attention is yanked back to the window.

A wave of anxiety sweeps over you as you question whether it could be your mother. Or could it possibly be your brother? You're uncertain, but what you do know is that you need to find out. You need to get out of the house and figure out who those two enigmatic figures lurking in the shadows are.

Before you can make a move towards the door, a firm hand seizes you from behind. This sudden intrusion freezes you in place, like a deer caught in the headlights. The same hand then moves to cover your mouth, stifling any potential screams. A tide of panic crashes over you, chilling your blood and causing your heart to pound against your rib cage. In a desperate, feral attempt to break free, you bite down hard on the fingers that are clutching your face. But despite your efforts, the person behind you remains as unyielding as a stone wall. They respond by squeezing you even harder. Their fingers dig into your skin like iron claws.

"Stop. I told you not to do anything stupid." Simon's voice is low, a commanding growl that sends vibrations echoing into your ear. His breath, warm and steady, tickles the back of your neck, causing each hair to stand on end as prickles of goosebumps race like wildfire across your body.

Gradually, you relax. The tension drains from your muscles, like water seeping out from a squeezed sponge. You realise it's Simon holding you. He only releases you once he's certain you won't panic or raise your voice. Then he pushes you aside and blocks the front door with his broad shoulders. You are confused, unable to comprehend why he is behaving this way. But you don't have time to question it or explain what you saw. You make a desperate attempt to shove him away, but he remains resolute, refusing to budge an inch.

"You aren't going anywhere!" He hisses, shaking his head and glaring at you. His paranoid gaze scans the hallway and the darkness behind you.

This is the first time you've seen him act like this. You notice the sharp knife tucked behind his belt. In his right hand, he grasps a gun. You knew he owned a pistol, but he had never shown it to you before.

"I am going," you argue, desperation palpable in your voice. "What if it's my brother? My mo—"

Before you can finish, Simon abruptly interrupts, "It's not." He spins around to scrutinise the peephole once more.

"You don't know that. Move!"

Your anger intensifies, mirroring the increasing volume of your voice, now at a fevered pitch. Simon's eyes widen as he turns to face you. His hand flies to your mouth, effectively silencing you. He pulls you into his arms, trapping you in a vice-like grip that leaves no room for escape. He refuses to let go again, almost as if he is afraid of losing you. His behaviour perplexes you. You resume your struggle, kicking and squirming in a futile attempt to free yourself, but to no avail. His hold on you gets tighter, a stark reminder of his superior strength. A sinking feeling washes over you as you realise the slim chances of winning this fight.

"Whoever it is that you saw walking down the street, they are neither your mother nor your brother. They're on the lookout for me," Simon whispers into your ear, while dragging you away from the front door and into the living room. "If you keep screaming and making noise, they'll hear us. When they come, if... If you let them find us, I promise you, it won't end well for either of us."

Your mind is a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces, struggling to understand what Simon is talking about. None of this makes any sense to your bewildered head. Yet, there’s something in the tone of his voice, a certain urgency, a hint of fear, that commands your attention and makes you stay silent.

"I'm going to let you go now," he says, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His tight grasp on your waist lessens, and he takes a step back, leaving you to curl up on the couch.

Simon moves towards the window. His fingers pull back the curtain enough for him to peek outside. "If you want to stay alive, if you want to have any chance of continuing to look for your family, you will keep your mouth shut."

TAG LIST: @randointhecloset If you want to be added, let me know!

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod #writing #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost cod #AP2 #ghost call of duty #ghost #cod ghost #fem!reader #cod x reader #simon ghost x reader

108 notes · View notes