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redskull199987 · 6 months

Note

Plzz write fnaf Michael x femreader! It starts like a fluff and then smut👀

Lucky

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:2.4k Warnings:Angst to Fluff to Smut, this got way angstier than i thought SOWWWY- but I promise, fluff ensues, Smut ensues, so MDNI/18+, Movie Spoilers Summary:After you finally return from work, a few surprises await you at home…

Masterlist

Your day had been slow. Agonizingly slow. Time seemed to go by extra slow today and by the time you finally left your office, it had felt like you had spent a week there, instead of a day. But as you slowly made your way towards your car, your mood lightened, as you remembered what would await you at home.

Your loving Boyfriend and his even sweeter little sister.

The little family you had built over the years always managed to put a smile on your face and especially after the whole drama at that Pizza Plex, you were even more grateful for what you had.

You slightly shook your head, trying to avoid thinking of those memories. The things you had seen, while Mike and You tried to save his sister from the dead children. You hoped that they got what they wanted…and that the Monster who created them had gotten what he deserved.

Your mind was about to wander back to the memory of the springlocks violently stabbing into his chest, as a knock on your car window quite literally pulled you out of your thoughts.

A quiet gasp left your lips, as you looked outside to see who had knocked. Much to your relief, it was only your coworker, who wanted to wish you a good night. You quickly uttered your goodbyes, before finally starting the car and making your way back home.

By the time you arrived, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. You quickly parked your car next to Mike´s before moving towards the entrance.

You didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway, as you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes.

Before you could call out for Mike and Abby, you heard someone running towards you and as you realized what was happening, you quickly duck away, stumbling backwards.

Just in time to avoid being hit by the bat that was swung into your direction.

“Mike!! It's me!! It's just me!!”, You quickly yelled and reached for the lightswitch.

As the hallway was suddenly illuminated by the dim gleam of the ceiling light, you could make out the figure of Mike in front of you. He was breathing heavily. With the bat still in his hand, he was towering over you. He just looked at you for one more second, before finally realizing what was happening. He quickly dropped the bat, a hand flying to his face, covering his mouth in disbelief of what he had just done.

“I´m sorry…”, he mumbled, dropping to his knees,”I'm so sorry. I thought…I thought it was..that it was o-one of t-them..”

Your heart broke at the sight in front of you. You quickly pulled Mike into your arms:”It's okay, Mike. I´m alright. They're gone now. They're gone.”

You gently kissed his temple, as you saw that he tried to suppress his tears. You knew that he was having a hard time dealing with the gruesome events. It had left scars on him. Both physically and mentally.

“I´m sorry..”, he muttered once more, pulling you closer to him. You only kissed his forehead again and mumbled sweet nothings into his ear until he had calmed down again.

You gently cupped your boyfriend´s face and gave him a soft smile. To your delight, he returned the smile and leaned forward to quickly peck your lips.

The sweet moment was interrupted as the voice of Abby grabbed your attention. The young girl came running into the hallway, calling out both of your names. Your smile got even bigger as she quickly came over to you, giving you a short hug, before starting to ramble about what she had drawn today and that she wanted to show you all her artworks. You happily nodded at everything that she said.

“Alright Abbs.”, Mike suddenly said, interrupting his sister and affectionately patting her head,”You can show her tomorrow. It's time for bed now.”

The little girl pouted for a moment and turned back to you:”But I wanna stay up and play with you.”

You gave her a mischievous smile:”I tell you something. If you promise me to go to bed now, I will play and draw with you tomorrow the entire day. And I'll make your favorite Dinner, hm?”

Abby´s face lit up in anticipation. She quickly nodded and said good Night to you and Mike, before disappearing into her room.

Mike only looked at you with admiration,”How do you alway do that?”, he asked, as the two of you also made your way to your shared bedroom.

“It´s a secret”, You grinned and let yourself fall down on the bed. A satisfied groan left your lips, as you finally felt the stress from work dissolve into nothing but hot air.

You watched how Mike pulled his Hoodie over his head and throwing it to the side. Now only left in his T-Shirt, he flopped down beside you, propping his head up on his arm and looking down at you. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looking you up and down, before he slowly lifted his hand and gently grasped your cheek. You gasped quietly, as he suddenly leaned forward and connected your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. It only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled back again. You looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed, as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Finally, Mike opened his mouth to say something, but after a few seconds of silence, he closed it again and he opened his eyes. You looked at his dark orbs and almost lost yourself in all the emotions, he was trying to convey only with his gaze.

“It's okay.”, you affirmed, “I know. You don't have to say anything, Mike.”

The boy only smiled at you and it was a genuine smile. One, that you rarely got to see.

Without another word, Mike suddenly sat up, pulling you with him and into his lap. You gasped loudly at the sudden change of position, which gave Mike the chance to put his mouth back onto yours.

This kiss was different. It was passionate, hungry even. He groaned lowly as he pulled your body tighter against his. Your hands pressing up against his chest, while he explored your Body with his.

“Mike..”, you warned him, as he started to kiss your jaw, your skin burning like fire everytime his lips touched you.

“Your sister…”, You mumbled again, but you and him both knew that it was already too late, that you were already at his mercy, the gaze of yours just as hungry as his.

“We'll be quiet.”, he finally answered, as he pushed you off his lap and onto the mattress. You watched how he now also pulled his Shirt over his head, before leaning down to kiss you again. You moaned against his lips, as you felt his cold hands wander under your sweater. He squeezed your hips tenderly, while making it his mission to let you drown in his kisses. As he finally parted to help you out of your clothes, you immediately missed the feeling of his lips pressing against yours.

Quickly you pulled your sweater over your head, discarding it on the floor. Mike only admired you for a few seconds, his gaze wandering all over your Body and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“Don't look at me like that.”, you mumbled and gently put your hand over his eyes.

Mike only chuckled at your antics,”Like what?”, he asked, acting all innocent and letting your hand remain on top of his eyes.

After a few seconds of Silence, you slowly pulled your hand back and his eyes went back to look at you.

“Like that.”, You croaked, looking away from him.

“But why?”, Mike teased, pulling you closer to his body by your hips,”I love what I am seeing.”

Upon hearing his words, you looked back up at him. his eyes held no ounce of doubt. He was a hundred percent sure.

“I love you too, Mike”, You smiled and quickly pecked his lips. Mike only returned the smile,”May I?”, he asked, mentioning towards your bra.

You quickly nodded and mere seconds later, your bra joined the heap of clothing that was already on the floor.

Mike´s lips quickly latched onto your breast, as his hand gave the same attention to the other. With a moan, your head lolled back in pleasure.

“You like that, hm?”, Mike mumbled, as he pushed you back down on the bed. You weren't able to form a coherent sentence anymore, so you just nodded.

“Please, let me have you.”, he urged, his hands wandering to the hem of your pants,”Let me make you feel good.”

“Mike please..”, You finally pressed out,”I need you..Need you inside of me.”

That was all the confirmation he needed, before finally pulling your pants down, alongside your panties.

He slowly pushed your thighs apart and started to kiss up the inside of your calves, but never quite touching you where you desperately needed him.

“Mike please.”, You whined again, while trying to keep your voice down. But your eyes widened in surprise and you tried to suppress the loud moan that made it´s way up your throat, as Mike suddenly pushed two fingers inside you without a warning. His tongue joined mere seconds after, as he ate you out like a man starved.

Your hand wandered to Mike´s hair and you gently pulled and pushed at his head as he was working you closer to your release. You could already feel that coil form inside you and after only a few more seconds, it snapped and with a suppressed moan, you came against his mouth.

As your heavy breathing started to slow down again, Mike finally looked back up at you, the desire in his eyes bigger than ever. He quickly latched his lips on yours again and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you hungrily.

Your hands now wandered towards his sweats and as you grabbed his already hard member through his pants. He groaned lowly, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Quickly, you pulled down his pants, leaving him now also bare in front of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed his length and gave him a few experimental pumps. That seemed to do the trick on him and you watched how Mike´s brows furrowed, as he melted against your touch.

“Wanna be inside you..”,he mumbled against the skin of your shoulder. With anticipation, you lined him up with your entrance and looked back up at him. Mike was looking at you questioningly. And as soon as you gave him a small nod, he finally pushed inside of you.

You grabbed onto his biceps, as the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure. Mike slowly started moving in and out of you, grabbing your hips tightly. You suppressed a moan by sinking your teeth into his shoulder. Not to pierce the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.

You could hear Mike mumbling incoherent words into your ear, as he picked up his pace, desperately trying to push you over the edge again.

“Mike..”, You moaned, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the sweet sweet relief and as you looked back into his eyes and saw the adoration that he had for you, you were done for it. You clenched around him and came all over his cock. Mike followed soon after, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.His thrusts got slower and sloppier and he finally pulled out of you, his breath still heavy against your skin. He quickly kissed your temple, before getting up. After a minute, he returned with a damp cloth and a water bottle. With a smile still on his face, he gently cleaned you both up, before slipping back into bed with you.

You chuckled, as he nuzzled his head into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled his body closer to yours. His warmth engulfing you fully.

“Good Night, Mike.”, you smiled and gently kissed his cheek.

“Night.”, he replied with a yawn.

It didn't go unnoticed by you, that he didn't use his pills to fall asleep today. Or the recording of nature sounds. He didn't even look up at the Poster of Nebraska, that was now hanging over his bed again.

Looking at your beloved one last time, you smiled once more before finally closing your eyes and letting sweet sleep engulf you.

Bonus:

“Mike!?”

“Miiiike!?”

“Miiiiiike!?!?”

Your eyes snapped open and within a second, you were sitting up on the bed. Your gaze wandered to the door, where loud knocks and shouts were being heard. After a few seconds of trying to understand in which century you had woken up in, you realized where you were and the events of last night returned to you.

“Mike?”, You mumbled quietly and tapped your boyfriend's shoulder, who was laying next to you,”Mike??”

With a groan, he finally looked up at you and before you had the chance to say something, he tumbled off the bed due to leaving too much over the edge.

You couldn't suppress the chuckle that left your lips as you leaned down to check on Mike.

“Morning.”, You smiled, as you realized that he was fine. You quickly leaned down to peck his lips, which immediately seemed to wake him up more.

“Miiiiike!?!”

Your sweet moment was interrupted, as you heard Abby banging against the door again.

Mike let out an annoyed groan before getting up and putting his pants back on.

“In a minute, Abbs!”, he yelled back and the banging on the door finally stopped.

“We have a lot to do today.”, you said as you finally got up too and started to get dressed.

Mike only looked at you in confusion:”What do you mean?”

“Remember how I made Abby go to sleep yesterday?”, you chuckled and softly kissed his cheek before walking to the door. Pushing the handle down, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Abby who grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her room to show you her drawings.

Mike could only look after you with a tender smile on his face. How had he gotten so lucky?

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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i am so BUMMED when i realized ive read all of your polymarauders works. can i get more of them please? especially the one like the 'casual dominance' fic omgg. that one made me feel THINGS. btw!!! congrats on reaching the 1k mark. totally deserved <33

-🥀

Wow babe, that's a lot! I'm really glad you're enjoying them! I know I've written a few since you sent this in, but I decided to treat this as a request for specifically casual dom!marauders because I'm weak for them too :*

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Your teeth chatter as you step out of the fastest shower of your life, barely drying yourself off before starting on your makeup. You’re so dumb. You’re so, so dumb. Of course it’d be the night before your presentation that you’d accidentally set your alarm for PM instead of AM. How many times had you stirred, thought about getting up, and decided to wait until your alarm went off? It had only been when you’d woken to an empty bed, sunlight coming in through the window, that you’d realized.

You’re still running on the adrenaline of that waking jolt, now mixed with the extra edginess from your frigid shower since you couldn’t afford to wait for the water to warm. You probably won’t be late, but you’re definitely going to be late by pre-presentation standards. You’d planned to get there a half hour in advance to set up and mentally prepare. Now you’re going to have ten minutes at best, and that’s only if you can get out the door in the next few. You finish with your makeup—your hair’s just going to have to dry on the way—and turn to where you’d hung your pre-selected and Sirius-vetted presentation outfit the night before. The hangers sit empty.

You go into the bedroom, hoping one of the boys had laid them out on the bed while you’d been in the shower. Nothing. Just your socks and shoes where you’d left them by the bedroom door.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, pulling the socks on because you can do that, at least. “Shit shit shit!”

You take off down the stairs, relieved to see Sirius on his way up. “Hey! Do you know where—” your foot hits too close to the edge of one step, slipping down to the next. It seems inclined to keep going, but Sirius’ hands catch you around the waist.

“Jesus, baby.” He looks down at your feet as you get them under you again, eyebrows drawn together. “Running down the stairs is already a punishable offense, but with socks on?”

“Do you know where my presentation outfit went?” you ask in a rush.

Sirius blinks. “No. It’s not where you left it?” You shake your head and decide this conversation is no longer a productive use of your time, moving past him. “Don’t run,” he says after you, and you slow to a slight hustle down the remaining steps.

You practically skid into the kitchen, where Remus is just about to sit down at the table with his cup of coffee and James is running the blender. You raise your voice to be heard over it. “Do either of you know where my presentation outfit went?”

James stops the blender. “Morning to you too, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

You feel like you could burst into tears, but that would just waste more time. Why is no one cooperating with your need for efficiency?

“I’m going to be late!” you stress to James, turning around to survey the kitchen, the living room, like they’ll just be hanging in some random corner where you somehow forgot them. “I need my clothes, have you seen them?”

“Dove.” Remus takes you by the shoulders. “Breathe. You’ve got time.”

You exhale, trying not to twitch as your skin crawls with urgency, or to lecture him on how little time you actually have. Remus watches you patiently. His hands slide up to either side of your face once you no longer seem like a flight risk, thumb stroking your cheek.

“Your outfit’s in the dryer,” he says in a soothing voice, still holding you as if to keep you from running off. “I was warming it up while you were in the shower.”

Your next inhale scrapes on the way in, a grateful pressure building behind your eyes. “Rem, that’s so sweet,” you say. “Thank you.”

Remus gives you a smile and a little shrug, more casual than the faint pinkness of his cheeks would suggest. He lets his hands skim back down your neck, giving your upper arms a light squeeze. “Why don’t you let it finish running while you have your breakfast, yeah? That way there’s no risk of spilling on it.”

You shake your head, aware this won’t go over well but too anxious to worry much about it. “I don’t have time for breakfast,” you tell him. “I need to catch the bus in, like—” Your eyes search for a moment before landing on the microwave clock. “—five minutes.”

“I’ll drive you,” Sirius says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he comes back downstairs.

You glance at the microwave clock again in case you read it wrong the first time. “You can’t,” you say. “You’ll be late.”

Sirius shrugs. “I don’t have a presentation. They’ll deal with it.”

You look to Remus, expecting him to object to Sirius’ proposed tardiness, but he only nods, sitting down with his coffee.

“Are…are you sure?” you ask Sirius, trying to adjust to the sudden non-urgency of your situation.

“It’s no problem,” he promises you. “Stop looking so upset, honey, just eat your breakfast.”

“Drink your breakfast, is more like it,” James says proudly, coming in from the kitchen to pass you a glass of whatever he’d been concocting in the blender. It’s a murky brown-green, and you try not to wrinkle your nose for James’ sake.

“Thanks.” You take it from him tentatively. “It’s…it’s a smoothie?”

James laughs at your expression, and you think you hear Remus snort into his coffee. “Yes, it’s a smoothie. The color’s because of the chocolate protein powder and the spinach, but it’s got fruit, too, don’t worry.”

You swirl the glass a bit, assessing the color. “Why so much spinach?”

James sets a hand on your shoulder, encouraging you into your chair as he joins the three of you at the table with a smoothie of his own. “Iron, sweetheart.” He casts a pointed glance at your legs, spotted here and there with purple-and-yellow blotches of skin. “Seems like need it. You’re bruising like a peach lately.”

Remus hums in agreement as you take a tentative sip of the smoothie. It’s not bad, though you can feel little bits of spinach sticking to your teeth. You make a mental note to have Sirius check your smile before you get out of the car later.

“And I saw that look in your eyes when you stood up too quick from the couch yesterday,” Remus says, quirking an eyebrow when you look at him in surprise. “You’re not as subtle as you think, dove.”

You bring the glass to your lips again to avoid making a response. Sirius laughs, and when you smile sheepishly, his grin turns goofy. “Hold it there,” he says, taking your jaw in hand. You keep your smile in place as his eyes narrow. “Front tooth on the left. My left.” You lick at the piece of spinach, and he nods, dropping his hand.

“Knew I could count on you,” you tell him. “Thanks, Siri.”

Sirius pecks you on the cheek. “S’what I’m here for, gorgeous.”

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russellsppttemplates · 16 days

Note

Matilda being so in love with Logan when she’s really young that Lando has to be stern with him and everyone laughing cause he is never usually serious

"Daddy! Since you and Logan are not driving, can we go see him, please?", Matilda wondered. She heard this morning that Williams were also having their reserve driver doing the Free Practice session, and since she knew her daddy wasn't driving either, it would be the perfect time considering she knew better than to wander around the paddock on her own.

"Am I really giving in to our daughter's driver crush because I can't say no to her? Yes, that's right", Lando whispered in your ear before picking her up, "yes, princess, let's go!", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving you with Fraser and a sleeping Charlotte.

Walking into the Williams garage with his little girl, Logan spotted the little Nottis straight away, "hey, Tilly! How are you? It's been a while since I've seen you", the american driver smiled.

"I'm good, and you, Logan? I made a drawing for you", she fished it out of the front pocket of her dungarees, unfolding it to reveal a drawing of a blue car and who Logan assumed was himself.

"Thanks, Tilly! I'm going to find somewhere safe to keep this!", he smiled, letting her explain all the details she had drawn.

"I'll go look for a folder or something to keep it safe", one of the Williams staff said, "I'll go with you!", Matilda said, "I'll be right back, Logan!", she noted as she left Lando and Logan.

"You can't ever break her heart, you hear me?", Lando stated much to the amusement of everyone around him who heard the serious tone, "which at this age translates in not waving at her and crashing your car or not getting a good position - she understands enough of how the grid works enough to get sad whenever you don't get a good position, so that's a no".

Logan felt somewhat intimidated from his tone alone, "you do realize some of those things are a bit outside of my control, right? I can't make the car a rocketship if it wasn't built that way", he reasoned.

Lando knew what it was to have a car you wished would be faster, "don't break her heart, understood?".

"Yes, sir", Logan said before Matilda pulled on his hand once she got back, "Lucy got a folder so you can save the drawing, yay!", she cheered.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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bloompompom · 8 months

Text

rebounding; one-shot

“Don’t you want to give it a try? I mean, haven’t you ever thought about it?”

✧ content: ~10.5k words. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/roommate au. reader is dumped by unnamed boyfriend for "plot" purposes (what plot?), lighthearted with slight hurt/comfort + angst, complicated feelings, pure filth, eren’s bad with emotions but so are you, rough sex, praise, dirty talk, 'pretty girl' as a pet name, mentions of masturbation, light overstimulation, oral sex (f!receiving), protected PIV sex, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only

It was little more than a passing thought when Eren realized he hadn’t seen you since he’d been home. It wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary, considering your boyfriend’s shoes strewn near the front door—Eren tripped over one earlier—but he thought you would have come out for a snack or a trip to the bathroom or something by now.

Perhaps it was best to give you two some privacy.

On his way out, he opted to text you instead of knocking on your door to check if you needed anything. He took his time gathering his wallet and keys, but even after a few minutes, you still hadn’t opened the message. He got the hint, loud and clear.

The five-minute drive to the corner store didn’t eat up much time, and Eren spent the first half of the hour trying to figure out how to kill the next. He stalled for as long as he could, running down his mental checklist for household essentials and uselessly debating between soda brands. But after a while, he started to feel like a weirdo for stalking every aisle twice over.

Eren didn’t like to be at the apartment when he was there, your boyfriend. It wasn’t anything personal—

Okay, maybe he could admit it was a little personal. Eren had told you before that he was a major douchebag, but hey, at least he was honest.

Anyway, it wasn’t like anyone wanted to be around when their roommate was getting laid, but Eren had nowhere else to go and a gas tank bordering on empty. He couldn’t even take the long way back home.

Somewhere in his gut, Eren hoped you’d be there to greet him when he returned. Not for any special reason; he was just bored. What was the point of having a roommate if they were always locked away in their bedroom?

Of course, you’d only been ‘locked away’ for a handful of hours, but that was like an eternity to Eren—always one for dramatics. For him, it was an ordinary Tuesday night, with nothing to see or do except wait until he was tired enough to sleep. He couldn’t even enjoy his show because you scolded him for putting on an episode while you were out. ‘I can’t believe you watched our show without me!’ He wasn’t sure when the ‘our show’ thing started because it didn’t even seem like you paid it any attention.

Unfortunately for him, when Eren stepped through the front door, you weren’t curled in your usual nook on the couch. Your boyfriend’s shoes were still annoyingly kicked to the side, and not a single thing had changed since he left. The apartment wasn’t that spacious, and it didn’t take long to learn the walls were about as thin as cardboard, which made the silence eerie as Eren slipped from his shoes. Even the metallic clang of his keys on the table felt out of place, like he was walking on eggshells in his own home. Something was off.

Before he could put his finger on it—before he could even crack open his bottle of soda—he discerned the first sign of life from your room. Shouting, but Eren couldn’t pick out if it belonged to you or him.

Your bedroom door swung open. Eren didn’t see it but heard the swoosh of it, the rickety wood shrieking in its hinges. Your boyfriend stormed down the hallway, shoulders tensed and hands drawn into fists at his side. What did Eren say about him being a douchebag again?

Then, he shot Eren this glare. This downright nasty glare for no good reason, flagrantly huffing and puffing his way to snatch his jacket. He was rough with it, leaving the chair wobbling but still upright.

Prickly, and merely seconds away from acting on it, Eren’s disgust curled at his lip to return the sneer. But the asshole was out the door—even made sure to slam it behind him—before Eren could ask what the hell his problem was.

The apartment went quiet again. The door stopped quavering and the room was still. Though your boyfriend was gone, the strangely thick, suffocating air lingered. Eren didn’t know what to make of it. He couldn’t move, firmly planted in the center of the living room like his feet had taken root. He didn’t want to know what just happened, lest he wished to get wrapped up in your relationship drama, but he had this dreaded feeling he was about to learn regardless. Especially once the sniffling began, faint, but spilling from your room and into the hall.

The door to your bedroom was still open. Eren grazed his knuckles against it, carefully trying to catch your attention. You saw only his head at first, tentatively poked around the corner. After he decided the coast was clear, he made himself known, loosely leaning against the doorframe like he always did when he had something to tell you.

Your instinct was to hide your face—to quickly swat away the tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was your best attempt at collecting yourself, but it was worthless because Eren had already seen the puffy-eyed look on your face.

You straightened out, uncrumpling your legs and letting them hang from the edge of the bed. You started to fumble over snot-coated words. “God, sorry. I probably look like a mess.”

Eren couldn’t begin to guess why you were apologizing, and immediately, he felt a pang of sympathy. Despite how it struck him iron-hot in his chest, he didn’t know what to do with it. His body stiffened.

Thinking (hoping) you’d laugh, or at the very least chuckle, he didn’t disagree with you. Instead, he pitched you a boyish yet well-meant, “What’s new?”

You pulled a face but otherwise ignored the comment, reaching toward the box of tissues on your nightstand. Eren was surprised there were any left, considering you were surrounded by what appeared to be a hundred of them. Balled up and scattered across your bed, the floor, and even one on your lap. He didn’t want to, but he took a cautious step into your room. He even took another, squeamishly watching you loudly blow your nose.

He should say something, shouldn’t he?

“So,” Eren started, rocking back on his heels once. “What happened?”

You glanced over at him, still looking pretty awful. You had smeared the streaks of mascara across the crests of your cheeks, even to your temples, tinging them like soot. Eren’s stomach seized up as he fought off his primal urge to back away slowly and retreat to his bedroom.

You sucked in a breath and answered, “We broke up.” Between the words, your bottom lip started to quiver. “He broke up with me.”

Say what you wanted about Eren—label him a cynic or accuse him of being heartless, perhaps both—but he didn’t particularly enjoy dealing with others’ emotions. To put it bluntly, they repulsed him, most especially the waterworks that accompanied them.

Eren averted his eyes like you were some tragic spectacle. He hated seeing you like this. It was such a bummer, no different than spotting a kitten forgotten in a rainstorm. He wished he could console you, find an umbrella and run to your rescue, but that was much more complicated than it sounded.

If he had known about the breakup earlier (if you had responded to his text message), he would have brought you something back from the store. Ice cream or red wine—the sort of stuff he’d seen in movies—he didn’t know. Ugh.

He remembered his bottle of soda, still sealed with its condensation cooling his hand. He extended it to you, offering, “Here. You can take this if you want.”

Face buried in your palms, you pried your gaze higher and, unexpectedly, grimaced.

“What? No, I don’t want that right now,” you grumbled. Eren could be such an idiot sometimes.

Your voice was sour enough to sting, like he had purposefully salted your brand-new wound. His face said enough—a resounding yikes—but he didn’t stop there; he continued digging his own grave.

Eren nodded his head in the general direction of the front door. “You know, he probably hasn’t gotten too far. I could go kick his—”

“I think I just want to be left alone.”

“Well, what if we—”

“Seriously, Eren,” you snapped. “Go away.”

Tears collected in the corners of your eyes again, welling up like dew. Then your bottom lip did that trembling thing again. It must have embarrassed you; that was why you rushed to slam the door in Eren’s face. At least, that was what he told himself, rather than admit you didn’t want his help, that he was only making things worse. That maybe he was the last person you wanted to see right then.

Honestly, that might have been the case. Not just in that fleeting moment but for the days to come.

It had been over a week since that night, a very strange eleven days in the little apartment you both called home. It wasn’t like you to keep to yourself. Even when Eren first moved in, when he was little more than a stranger to you, you liked his company. You told him as such. ‘I just like to have someone to talk to. That’s all.’ And you’d do just that, chatting to pass the time it’d take to wash the dishes or whatever menial task you were up to. Eren never minded, but it did make it harder to adjust to the quiet. He could even admit he missed your unnecessary commentary while he watched TV.

He supposed it was naive of him to think you’d bounce back from a breakup after only a week. But were you really that hung up on this guy?

No, Eren was sure you were giving him the cold shoulder for badgering you less than a minute after your boyfriend had stormed out. Not that it wasn’t deserved, but for the record, you never apologized for slamming the door in his face.

Neither of you wanted to lose this childish stand-off, nor were you above butting heads, no better than a couple of rams, if given the right provocation.

To outsiders, the two of you may seem like an unlikely pair. But the reality of it was you shared this apartment for well over a year now. Eren wasn’t your original roommate, that was your friend Mikasa. After a few months of living together, she was offered an internship a few hours south of here, out of commuting range, and took it on a whim. That internship turned into her dream job, and her friend Eren’s sublease turned into one of his own, for no other reason than it just worked; it was as simple as that.

So one could imagine why Eren had trouble wrapping his head around it. By now, it was customary, borderline a requirement of living together, for you to annoy one another. You’d poke and poke and poke, as roommates tend to, and no matter what, the other would come around. Eren always did. You always did.

But this time, even Eren’s bribes didn’t work. Not even a latte from your favorite cafe—conveniently located on his walk home from the gym—softened you. That was when he knew it was bad, worse than when you discovered he’d been snitching from your expensive hair products in the shower. It was awkward and tense and, frankly, unbearable.

It was Saturday night, probably creeping into Sunday morning. Eren’s eyes burned, a bit bloodshot when he last checked. He took it as his sign to shut off the computer.

You still weren’t home. Eren didn’t know where you were; he told himself he didn’t care, but his rampant curiosity said otherwise. Throughout the night, he’d excuse himself from his video game, telling his friends he’d be back in a second, and on his way to ransack the kitchen for the umpteenth time, he’d check to see if your purse had returned to its rightful spot: draped over the back of the loveseat. For whatever reason, your absence irked him.

You knew there was a chance Eren would still be awake when you came home; you just didn’t expect to bump into him.

You stood in your entryway, your coat only halfway down your arms and sagged around your elbows, when Eren emerged from the hallway. He had a hand shielded over his squinted eyes as they adjusted to the brash overhead light.

His white tee held the wrinkles of his bedsheets. It was an old shirt, by the look of it, its collar drooped in the front and a hemline that appeared slightly thread-barren against his charcoal sweatpants. He must have fallen asleep with his hair tied back; stray strands framed his cheekbones and curtained his lidded eyes. He blinked them a few times, hard, then let his hand slump to his side. He studied you with a judgy once-over.

“Did you just get home?” He sounded as groggy as he looked.

“Yeah.” It was a rather redundant question, given your current state of toying with your strappy heels, bounding around on one foot as you tried to slip free of them.

Eren retrieved his phone from his pocket. “It’s almost three in the morning.” He showed you the screen as if you requested proof.

“So?”

“What were you doing out that late?”

You couldn’t decipher his tone, and for the life of you, you couldn’t read the expression on his face. For once, it was blank. Tired, but blank.

“It’s none of your business,” you snarked.

“It is when you wake me up.”

You had difficulty believing you had woken him up in the thirty seconds you’d been home. Regardless, you brushed him off with, “I was out with a friend.”

You were purposefully vague because it truly was none of his business. But you let your attitude seethe to the forefront, with it, an implication you didn’t intend.

Eren gave you this look, stern and accusatory, but more than anything, he looked absolutely baffled with you.

“You didn’t.”

He thought you went crawling back to your ex.

You didn’t correct him in time to prevent his ranting and raving.

“You can’t be serious. After what he did?” He was referring to the nasty breakup. “After everything?” And that was referring to the rest. You were aware Eren had become an unlucky bystander to your relationship, frequently caught in the fallout of every nuclear fight.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wiping the sleep from the inner corners of his eyes as if it would clear his head. “You could be with anyone you want. Why go back to him?”

You were insulted he’d think so lowly of you, that you needed a fatherly lecture from him of all people. You were fixed on that, not reading between the lines when you barked, “So what if I did? Why do you even care so much?”

Eren didn’t care. What possibly gave you the impression he cared? You were a big girl, you could date whoever you pleased. You were certainly doing whatever you pleased; the only reason he was even talking to you—the only reason he was awake—was because of you, loudly stumbling through the front door in the middle of the night, unwilling to consider his perspective on the situation.

A situation you created, by the way. Not just tonight but eleven days ago. It didn’t need to exist in the first place. The drama, the theatrics—all of it. You must have forgotten Eren wasn’t the one who dumped you.

So in his mind, the better question was, “Why are you being like this?”

You defensively knotted your arms over your chest. “Like what?”

Eren opened his mouth, raring to sling some smart-ass comment your way, but he only stammered. He blamed it on the fact that he was torn out of his slumber and immediately thrown into the ring with you, but truthfully, he could have eight hours of sleep and a shot of espresso and still suck at this sort of thing. You know, emotions.

Words failed him miserably. He gave up on them and waved a hand over you like you were supposed to know what he meant by it. “Weird and stuff.”

“Weird and stuff,” you mocked with a pointed scoff. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“You’re never here anymore,” he said in exasperation, “and when you are, you’re ignoring—no, you’re actively avoiding me.”

You wanted to do exactly that, to roll your eyes and stomp to your bedroom. Eren knew that. He was daring you to prove him right.

In a way, ending a spat was much like defusing a bomb, wasn’t it? Both backed you into a corner, forcing you to make a decision on instinct alone. You’d clip a wire, red or blue, the choice was yours, and cross your fingers that it was over. You could deny, deny, deny, put it off for another day, just to see if it explodes. Or you could end it.

You exhaled reluctantly. “I went out for drinks with Sasha. We went back to her place, got to talking, and I lost track of the time.” He matched your sigh, and you watched the sink in his shoulders. “The breakup was long overdue. I don’t think one night out would change anything between us.”

You told Eren the truth not because it was any of his business but because guilt pitted your stomach. Yes, he was upset you woke him, you understood that. And undoubtedly, it was a part of the reason—at least why he was testier than normal, which was saying something—but hearing him now, you realized it ran much deeper than that.

The tension in the room eased its grip on your throats. You sensed he was about to offer you some cliché, but if it would be anything like his last attempt at cheering you up, you weren’t interested.

You beat him to it, confessing, “He dumped me because of you.”

The sentence fell to the floor with a blundering splat. You plopped this thing between you and expected him to know what to do with it.

Eren’s eyes narrowed and flickered over you, head to toe. He took in your words, scrutinized and dissected them. Before he could draw his own hasty conclusions, you elaborated, “That’s the reason he broke up with me—why I’ve been avoiding you.”

He snorted derisively. “That’s a load of bullshit.”

“That’s what I said. But he told me I either had to move out—find a place of my own or live with him—or it was over.”

The mood shifted. Eren stared back at you apprehensively, waiting for you to go on as if you hadn’t made up your mind already—as if you were about to break your lease on the spot. He couldn’t fathom the obvious answer.

“And?”

You exaggerated it when you extended your arms out at your sides. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

You looked and looked at him, but for once, he didn’t say a thing. You disarmed him; he tucked his hands into his pockets in his own Eren-y way of surrendering.

“It sounds stupid, but I like what we have. I like this,” you said genuinely, even if you weren’t quite sure what ‘this’ was—your living situation, your roommate-ship, your friendship with Eren. Whatever it was, it was comfortable, and maybe it was just some lame proverb, but you couldn’t help but think: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

You shrugged. “And I’m definitely not about to ditch it for some jealous douchebag.”

He finally cracked. His lips bowed into a small smile. “At least you can finally admit it.”

Deep down—like way down in there—you recognized none of what happened was Eren’s fault, but that didn’t lessen the blow. It became easier to pretend as if he wasn’t there, just for a while. It was irrational, it was your gut reaction, and by the time you realized how petulant it was, you were too ashamed to fess up to it. All it took was a bit of cornering, you supposed.

You and Eren were too close, apparently. That was what your ex-boyfriend believed for however long he chose to keep it to himself. He stewed on it, a simmer at first, until it bubbled to a seething boil, splattering you when you removed the lid and asked, ‘Why have you been so distant lately?’

Once the argument ensued, it was like you no longer spoke the same language. Anything you said, any explanation you gave, wasn’t good enough. To him, you were irredeemable. He had already set his mind on that ultimatum—a rather expensive one at that.

You weren’t oblivious to the fact that some may find it strange you were in a relationship with one man while living with another, but was it that bizarre a concept? It was how the cards fell, so you made the best of it, which wasn’t too difficult, actually.

It became clear just how long it’d been bothering him when he began to list everything you’d done wrong over the months, even going as far as to count your crimes on his fingers. Looking back, you should have stopped him there; no one needed to be with that kind of person, anyway.

Firstly, and what appeared to be your greatest sin, was that he hated when you borrowed Eren’s hoodies; it really didn’t happen often. Eren left them thrown about the apartment, so you’d only wear them to empty the trash when it was raining or when you went grab a coffee down the street on a chilly day. According to him, he was always finding them in your room.

You could appreciate his perspective on that one, but he should have mentioned it sooner. His second reason—and this was where they started to become silly—was that he ‘always’ (he used that word a lot) heard Eren in the background when he’d call. You told him it was farfetched to think Eren’s naturally loud demeanor was somehow your fault.

Then he became more upset, ridiculing you for, in his words, being all ‘Eren this, Eren that’ about everything—another exaggeration. In your defense, if you turned to Eren, it was only a matter of convenience because he was literally across the hall. You never explained this; he didn’t give you the chance, so you tuned out his other reasons, more focused on trying to make sense of this tailspin.

It hit you then, not like a smack across the face; it was stealthier than that. It prowled from behind in a low rumble, creeping down your spine before pouncing, taking you captive in one go.

“Eren?”

The mildness in your voice surprised you. You spoke his name in a quiet request, the same way you would if you needed something from him (you did). He was immediately suspicious. Still, he met your eye, acknowledging you with knitted brows.

Whenever you needed something, you turned to Eren.

You had to choose your words carefully, but there was no careful way to go about this.

You bit down on your bottom lip, unwittingly wetting it. “Would you kiss me?”

What you needed now was to forget. To lose yourself in his body, just for one night.

The softness in his voice contended with your own. “Why?”

He didn’t say no. His face certainly didn’t say no, either. And he didn’t draw back when you neared him.

Sasha spent the evening encouraging you to find a hookup, telling you the only way to get over someone was to get under another. But meeting someone new was hard.

“I don’t know,” you slowly said. “Just want to.”

Eren flinched, only slightly, when you laid the tips of your fingers on the back of his wrist. You grazed them higher up his arm, noting how the hairs stood up as you went.

“Don’t you,” you started, in an almost temptatious way, “don’t you want to give it a try? I mean, haven’t you ever thought about it?”

He sucked in a breath and his lip went with it, pinched between his teeth. He shut his eyes because he was pretty sure he was about to kiss you. It didn’t help that the sight of you was incredibly distracting, either. He still had to decide what to do, and all the while, his thoughts juggled around in his head; he couldn’t hold onto one without losing another.

It was a terrible idea. Downright awful. Even so, it didn’t feel so bad when he felt your hand on his chest, even if it made his heartbeat hammer.

Eren opened his eyes to your face, nothing else. He took you in, from the top of your head to the very tip of your chin. Your hair was a bit out of place, expected for three in the morning, but your eyes were as bright as if it were the middle of the afternoon. Something about them was alluring, though he couldn’t pin it. They grew, bigger and bigger, until they were out of focus. Closing in, your noses brushed, and Eren’s ‘yes’ died on his lips as he placed them to yours—an answer to one or both of your questions, he wasn’t sure.

He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you, losing his words between your lips as he asked, “Should we be doing this?”

You inched back, still extremely close, enough that your breath warmed him. “Why not?”

Eren knew you didn’t need him to break it down for you. You were Mikasa’s friend, his roommate. Someone he wanted to keep the peace with, even if you were making it difficult.

“Won’t it make things weird?”

“I thought I already made things weird. And stuff,” you teased. He shot you the unamused look you anticipated. “Whatever. You already pop a boner when you see me after the shower. Do you really think this is what will make things weird?”

Heat scorched the tips of Eren’s ears. It had only happened twice! And there was no way you knew about that. Unless you were looking for it, he supposed, but thinking about that made him more nervous.

It was that damn robe of yours. The one you only wore from time to time, the telltale sign laundry day was near. Eren had only seen it a few times, incidentally of course, just if you’d pass one another. Still, he could picture it then. It hardly counted as a robe, so frail that he was surprised anyone would spend money on it. It bordered on see-through, clinging to your body as you’d leave the steamy bathroom, into the cool hallway—

You lightly smacked his arm. “I’m just messing with you.”

He deflated in relief, but the feeling didn’t last long because you were still between his hands, sitting dangerously low on your waist. In that moment, his sense drizzled from him much like a leaky faucet: drop by drop at first, then a burst pipe. Now, he wasn’t sure there was even an ounce left.

You batted your lashes at him. “C’mon, you’re really going to make me get off myself?”

Okay. Now he was absolutely certain any and all sense had drained from him.

Eren swallowed hard. “Will this help you get over him? Because I’d really like to never see him again.”

Yeah, that worked. That was how he’d justify it: he was merely helping you out. Nothing more. Then things would be fixed, and everything would go back to normal. Better, even, because now he wouldn’t have to deal with your ex-boyfriend anymore.

“Mhm,” you murmured, but desire had been lowly buzzing between your legs for the better half of the evening, leaving you fuzzy enough to agree to anything he said. Anything to keep the fire in you alive and burning. But right then, you weren’t sure if there was anything—no body of water great enough—that could douse it. You didn’t mind; you found pleasure in it because at least you weren’t burning alone.

You went to kiss him again, but Eren dodged it with a small tick of his head.

“You just told me you liked this,” he said. “But now you’re willing to risk it? What if this is a mistake?”

He was still struggling to understand you. He always struggled to understand you, even after living with you for over a year, but this was next level. You had him dumbstruck.

Let there be no misunderstanding: Eren wanted this. He was just another twenty-something-year-old guy, of course he wanted this. It was just that he was also very aware of the consequences.

You touched his mouth with the tips of your fingers. His lips were wet with your spit—a combination of yours and his. You pressed down, ever so lightly, to shush him. You didn’t want words; you wanted incoherency. Purposeless and meaningless sounds and syllables, groans pulled from the back of your throats.

“If it’s a mistake, then let’s make it together.”

You invited him with a peck at first, a taste, then he pulled you back in to devour you whole.

Eren kissed the same way he lived: passionately, intensely, maddeningly. He was better at it than your ex, which you didn’t expect. The thought of what else he could do better made your stomach flip.

His palm warmed your cheek as slender fingers wrapped around the back of your head. Like an anchor, it kept your lightheaded self tethered to him. He smelled of sleep, and he smelled like him. The heady scent coiled around you. You inhaled as you kissed him, and when his mouth dipped to the delicate skin behind your ear, you buried your nose in his hair. You imagined your face shoved in his sheets, how they’d smell the same. You’d inhale it then, too, through gasps and an agape mouth.

You smoothed your hands higher on his chest, over his shoulders. Your nails gently scratched at Eren’s back, and even through his T-shirt, it set his nerves ablaze.

The part of his brain demanding he pump the breaks finally shut down, his entire body thrilled by it. It was all physical, fueled by carnal desire. He acted solely on what he wanted, and that was for your lips to stay exactly where they were. To stop you now would feel like abandoning a hearth in the winter. Instead of taking his hands against your shoulders, pushing you away to create some distance, he molded them around your hips.

You clasped your hands around his larger ones and placed them on your ass. You squeezed down on them, encouraging him to fondle you—to feel you—and he took to it as if he’d already thought about everywhere he’d like to grab.

Mistake or not, Eren knew if he ended it now, the palms of his hands would feel hollow the second you’d left them.

You didn’t bother debating between bedrooms and made the decision easy by heading for the couch. If you were being honest, you’d thought about fucking on this couch before—not with Eren obviously. The cushions were deep-set and roomier than most. It was evident you and Mikasa didn’t spend a fortune on it, but at least it was firm and wouldn’t give too much beneath you. You felt like it was made for fucking but respected your roommates enough not to give it a spin. But with Eren, everything was shared. Everything belonged to you and him. You could do it wherever you wished.

Eren laid you back on the couch and positioned himself above you. You wriggled below him, attempting to make any space for him to fit between your legs. It was nearly impossible in such restricting denim. You mumbled a ‘hold on’ into his mouth as you darted your hands down for the button. He was eager to assist. Once your jeans were undone, he pulled them past your knees, freeing one leg so you could kick them off the other.

Settled between your legs, Eren kissed you again, and you tasted the desire on each other’s tongues. His sweats did little to hide how hard, and heavy, he was against your leg. You imagined if you slipped a hand below his waistband you would find he wasn’t wearing boxers.

You bunched his shirt in your fist. You tugged at the hem of it, lifting it out of your way so you could greedily glide your hand beneath. Tracing between the divots of his abs, you felt the way they tensed as you trailed higher up his chest. Once it was established that it wasn’t needed, Eren sat back on his calves to peel it over his head, and it was on the floor a second later. Yours was next, but it was a bit more complicated than his cotton tee.

“What the fuck,” he muttered once he realized it wasn’t coming off. He fiddled with the strings tied around your neck, more frantic to get under the fabric with his fingers and tongue than he was concerned with being romantic. “How did you even get this thing on?”

“Sasha helped,” you relied matter-of-factly, though a bit breathless.

Did she have to knot it this many times?

You arched your back as Eren slipped his hands beneath you, blindly reaching for any of the ties. The straps had been digging into your shoulders all night, marking your skin with soft indentations. With every slackened string there was a sense of relief until, eventually, Eren had the shirt bunched around your midsection, your tits out. That was what mattered to him; he could figure out the rest later.

He cupped your breast in his hand and brought his mouth to it. Your skin was supple and smooth under his impatient lips, balmy and warm from pressing your bodies together. With a pointed tongue, he flicked over your nipple. When it was perked, he sucked lightly until your breathing began to flutter. He pulled off you with a pop, thumbing over your nipple as he turned to gift his attention to the other.

Eren’s touch was resolute, weighed down by hunger as his hand mapped its way down your side. It both unnerved and ignited you—the titillating vulnerability that came with being with someone new; how he caressed you for the purpose of exploring, seeing for himself what you liked best.

Heat pooled in your stomach. Lapped at you like the tides, though far less tranquil. Summery waters lured you in, kept you still and contented beneath Eren, kissing him, letting him kiss you, everywhere. From your neck and the dip in the center of your collarbone, focusing the most on your breasts. Then at your hipbones next, where it tickled the most. He must have liked the sound you made, reminiscent of an airy giggle, because he grazed his teeth there, pulling the noise from you again.

But as was certain, the tides would ebb; tepid waves turned to sea swells. Deep in your stomach, that dull yet glowy ache begged you to do something about it, your hips kneading into him, inviting him to tear off your underwear and fuck you already.

Eren leaned back when his fingers met your underwear. He hooked the band of them with his index finger, toyingly sliding it along your stomach. On instinct, you twitched, feeling frustratingly helpless to him. You bit back a strangled murmur along with a hiss urging him to get on with it.

Though your panties separated you and him, his eyes were still transfixed on where you wanted him most. And he knew how badly you wanted him there by the telling damp spot on the fabric.

Eren pressed the pad of his thumb to it, his other fingers rested atop your pelvis. He made soft circles against you, slow and testing. He observed every flick and flinch in your expression, his mouth slightly slacked in a smile that widened with your whimpers.

When he finally started to remove your underwear, it revealed just how wet you were for him—for your roommate. The back of your neck fevered when you noticed the lewd string connecting you to the soaked fabric. Eren snapped it with his thumb, and your humiliation only worsened when you watched him bring it to his mouth.

He didn’t anticipate going down on you. You only wanted to get off, and so did he, and a quick fuck would more than achieve that. But as he played with your clit, your tiny moans had him craving to hear how you sounded when you were wrecked, sobbing out for more. And with the way you were spread and dripping below him—well, he wouldn’t want any of it to go to waste. Not with how sweet you tasted.

So without hesitation, Eren dove between your thighs, gripping your hips and pulling you against the heat of his mouth.

Immediately, you throw your head back. It bumped the armrest with a thud loud enough to catch Eren’s attention. He glanced up to check on you, and right then, you found the sight of him inexplicitly striking. You didn’t know why, but it was as if his piercing eyes had pinned you to the spot for him, like he had control despite being down between your legs. You went blind to anything but him and his eyes, dazzlingly green against the flush tinting his cheeks.

Once he realized you were all right—it didn’t faze you one bit—Eren pressed a kiss against your clit before swiping his tongue through you. You shivered as he licked you with broad, lazy strokes of his tongue, savoring you, the button tip of his nose nudging your clit.

“Oh, God,” you breathed sharply, chin tucked to your chest, following it with a series of heavenly moans that were anything but holy.

Eren parted you with two fingers. He added more pressure with his tongue and swirled it around your clit. You screwed your lips together rather than allowing another cry to spill from you. It bubbled in your throat, and you swallowed thickly to keep it at bay before the neighbors could learn how debauched you sounded when Eren made you come. But when he closed his lips around your clit, sucking gently, you had no choice but to bite your knuckle instead.

Admittedly, you had wondered if he was actually talented at this or if the girls on the other side of his bedroom walls were only trying to boost his ego. He answered your inexplicit question by delving his tongue inside you, fucking you with it.

“Don’t stop,” you rushed to choke out, your back curving up from the cushions. “I’m almost there.”

Closer. You needed him closer.

You clung your hand to his head, raked your fingers through his hair. The useless tie slipped from it as you disheveled his bed head further. You pushed back the pieces that hid him from you, tugging as you angled him to the spot that made your thighs quiver.

“Do that again,” Eren breathed, fanning the command over you.

You did. He groaned, and you felt the couch shift as he rutted into it.

Your stomach contracted, that last gasp hitching in your lungs. Whatever glorious thing he was doing with his tongue felt like fire licking up your spine. He brought you to the very brink of becoming undone until you were writhing as you teetered it.

It was slick between your legs, you and the cushion beneath you drenched in your arousal and saliva. Eren’s mouth slipped around the more you wiggled. It didn’t matter where he held you, how deep his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, he couldn’t keep you still. At this rate, you’d fall off the couch, undoubtedly taking him with you.

Eren wrapped his hands around the backs of your knees, pinning them to your chest in a reminder to hold them out of his way. You replaced his hands with your own, whining when you felt his fingers at your slit. He glided them between you, coating them until they slipped right inside. He dragged them in and out of you, increasing his speed until he discovered the tempo that made you pulse around him. Then he curled them, just right, aiding his tongue in driving you to your release.

“I’m coming—fuck, I’m coming,” you whispered, ragged and hardly audible at the end.

Eren sounded equally muffled, groaning as you started rolling your hips over his mouth. You heard him mumbling, but it was distant and overshadowed by your heart thrumming in your ears. You couldn’t make out what he was saying—something about how fucking hot it was—but you felt his raspy timbre vibrating against you as you shattered.

Your legs dropped to your sides, quivering as you rode out the final pulses of your orgasm. You closed your eyes, unable to focus on anything but finding your breath.

Eren planted a long kiss against you, easing you down with wet, open-mouthed kisses, trailed from your inner thighs to below your navel. Each sent another shock through you. He continued until you were face-to-face again.

“How was that?” Eren asked. He was cheeky with it, grinning and everything, so you responded by flicking his bicep.

He was still smug about it as he tilted to kiss beneath your jaw, intermittently nibbling at your earlobe. You lolled your head back, offering the expanse of your neck to him. But when you saw him reach for the band of his sweatpants, you rested a hand against his arm.

It took him a second, but when it clicked, he said, “Condom. Right,” and pushed himself off the couch.

Your shirt was still gathered around your midsection, clammy and sticking to your skin. You wriggled free of it, shimmying it over your head before you flung it to the opposite side of the room. It felt wrong to lay on the couch like this, bare and fully exposed. You thought to cover up with a blanket but reminded yourself there was no point; it’d be on the floor, just like everything else, in a matter of minutes.

You were still lying there, fidgety and a bit limp, when Eren returned. He was rustling with the condom wrapper as he joined you on the couch. Calmly as ever, like he’d done it a million times before, he lifted your legs to make room, setting them over his lap as he sat beside you. He smirked to himself when he noticed you were shaky in his grasp.

Eren leaned in as you rose to meet him. One of his hands supported your lower back while his other trailed up your inner thigh. His fingertips ghosted over the spots he had tasted not long ago until he was back between your legs, almost like he had never left. You melted into him with a dreamy sigh the instant he began to rub gently, placing his lips to yours as he did.

You looped your arms around his neck. His hand left your back, and you heard the familiar crinkling as he reached for the condom.

Eren reveled in every flimsy little breath you let spill into his mouth. He tightened his circles, expertly attuned to your clit. He gauged your reaction, noticing when your lips began to stutter against his own. He felt them curve into a small ‘o’ as he picked up where you couldn’t—kissing you, sucking your tongue, skimming his teeth along it, until your angelic sounds turned depraved.

The intensity at which Eren wanted this—wanted you—surprised him. You had barely spoken in eleven days, and he spent the better of the night grumbling and bitter about it, positive you’d never want to see him again. Now, it was as if you never wanted to leave his lap, and he wasn’t sure he’d let you. He could play with your perfect pussy all night; so perfect that he had no choice but to give you a taste; how warm and wet and soft you were around his fingers; how you’d feel even better around his cock.

Just thinking about it had him rutting into your leg, just once, in a helpless search for friction.

Eren caught your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted you away from his lips as he spoke against the side of your face. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your face was puckered, squishing your languid and needy, “Yes.”

He angled your jaw further. “Then tell me how you want it.”

You felt his lips tickle over your pulse point. Kissing it, sucking it, nipping at it.

“Fuck,” you cursed on an agonizingly long hiss.

“Well obviously.” Eren gave a breathy laugh. The vibrato of it echoed through you. “Look at me.” You did, as much as you could; he was still cupping your face. “How do you want me to fuck you.”

You shook his hand off, panting, “I want it rough.” Grabbing him by the shoulder, you pulled him down until he collapsed over you. You smoothed his hair back before taking his face between your hands. You wanted to see the reaction in his eyes when you told him, “Let me feel it.”

You said it as if you’d thought about it before. Eren couldn’t help but wonder if your ex did, in fact, have a reason to worry. He told himself it was a problem for tomorrow and didn’t question it again. Tonight, his only obstacle was that he was still in his sweatpants, but it was swiftly resolved when you both reached for them.

Once they were gone, Eren sloppily licked his palm. You’d almost call it crass if it didn’t shamefully turn you on, watching him wrap his hand around his cock. His eyelashes fluttered at the small bit of release. He fisted himself a few times, unbothered by your blatant staring, before rolling the condom on.

He had you on your back, your head laid on the armrest again. One of your legs was hitched around his waist, and your other dangled from the couch, creating enough space for him to nestle in between.

You felt him—how hard he was for you—pressed in the crease of your thigh. With a hand around his base, he lined himself up with you. The tip of his cock threatened to push inside you, but he only glided it between your folds in one slow, encompassing stroke. And just as slowly, an overwhelming warmth tingled down your spine.

Eren continued toying with your clit. The condom’s lube and your wetness made it easy for the head of his cock to slip between you, to dip inside and tease you. But it wasn’t long before he was only teasing himself. Teeming with anticipation, you were already clenching around him so nicely, and he hadn’t even put more than the tip in.

It wasn’t like he was any better. When Eren felt your heel dig into his lower back, wordlessly pleading with him to fuck you, he succumbed. Not with a tilt of his hips but with one plunging thrust.

Your mouth hinged open, but nothing came out. Your wilted gasp was lost somewhere in the depths of your throat. You swallowed it down before you could choke.

Caged between his arms, you were close enough to catch the slight tremble in his biceps, only once he had filled you, entirely, his body flush against your own. Above you, Eren’s eyes squeezed shut. His lips parted in a shaky, dare you say it, beautiful sigh. Thrilled, your muscles naturally spasmed around the thick of him.

Eren stilled to adjust to you; your sensitive, needy pussy wasn’t making it easy on him. Of course, you felt fucking amazing. Just as good as he imagined, but so much tighter when he split you on his cock, not with his fingers.

He took his sweet time pulling out of you, losing himself a little more as he went, ensuring you felt every inch of him, just to bury inside you generously again.

Eren fucked you with smooth rolls of his hips. And God, it was effortless how he slid into you, over and over, thanks to how wet you were. You scraped at the cushion as if it were a bed sheet, as if you could twist the taut fabric between your fingers to ground yourself.

Once Eren discovered a pace that had you both breathing harder, his head dropped. You took it as an opportunity to muffle your moans, mouthing over his neck, right where it met his shoulder. You kissed him there, flattening your hands against his back to hold him to your mouth like you wanted him to smother you.

His skin tasted salty against your tongue. If he kissed you now, you were sure you’d taste the same, the heat between you growing feverish the more you ground against each other in a sticky lust.

When the blunt of your teeth dragged over his skin, you’d argue the groan he gave tapered into a low whimper. So you did it again, harsher this time. You bit down on him, the lean muscle giving easily, and it kept you quiet enough. It did pull another sound from Eren, though. He muttered some incoherent curses you couldn’t make out, and you would have thought you hurt him if not for the way his steady thrusts sped into pounding.

The couch was a tricky place to have sex, but you knew that already. You made it more complicated than it needed to be, forgoing the two bedrooms you had at your disposal, full-sized beds and all, and cramped yourselves onto this sofa because you couldn’t keep your greedy hands to yourselves long enough to think ahead.

Already, this position wasn’t going to work. Half of you had slipped from the couch, even more with each of Eren’s thrusts. He’d hoist you back into place only for you—the pathetic, squirmy thing you were—to falter over the edge again. Only your ass at first, then it was your whole leg. Then the process would repeat.

Eren sat back slightly. He closed his hands around your waist and yanked you to him, further down onto his cock.

With a yelp, your head fell from the armrest and lightly bounced against the cushion. He replaced it with your hands, pinning them high above your head with a sturdy grasp on your wrist. Your knees threatened to clamp around him, and he used his other hand to hold you open for him, gripping the fat of your inner thigh.

“Keep ‘em spread for me,” Eren growled. “Wider.”

You liked how his voice sounded right then, almost like gravel. You’d never heard it like that, all raspy and weighed down by his lust. That and the subtle pinch in his brow gave away just how turned on he was.

You fucked like that for… You weren’t sure how long exactly. Time was irrelevant after three a.m. anyway, wasn’t it? One particularly good thrust—his hips sputtering and grinding against you as if he could go any deeper—had his elbow buckling. Unable to hold himself up and continue his ruthless pace, he chose neither and flipped you onto your stomach.

Eren tossed you onto the armrest. You planted your forearms into it, propping yourself up. You felt his hand at the center of your back, forcing a nice bend in it for him. He smoothed it down lower, taking a handful of your ass and indulgently spreading you just to watch him disappear inside.

Too weak to hold your head up, you let it drop between your shoulders, gritting a wakened, “Fuck—you’re deep.”

When he sank into you fully, bottoming out, the head of his cock brushed the spot that had you briefly seeing stars.

Eren slowed at your dubious remark, unsure what to make of it. The moment he did, you made it clear, demanding, “Keep going.”

He began ramming into you, his hand still searing into your spine. You were too far gone, too focused on coming again, to hold back any longer. The noises that poured from you were pornographic. Short and breathy bleats of ‘right there, right there’ as his cock set sparks between your legs.

Your fingers flexed and relaxed around nothing, nails piercing the meat of your palms fiercely enough to leave them tender. You didn’t know if you needed him harder or faster, and through a few choked gasps, you could only wail a pleading, “Fuck me.”

You emphasized it by rocking back into him, smushing the back of your thighs against the front of his. It said enough.

Eren’s hands found your hips and settled into the crease where they met your stomach.

“Let me know if it’s too much.”

He was so casual that it almost irritated you. Whatever snippy comment you wanted to make, you kept it to yourself for the sake of getting off again. And you were glad you did because you would have eaten your words not a second later.

Eren fucked you with one foot planted into the floor, and his opposite on the couch cushion. His first thrust stole your breath; the second knocked it back into you. He took you from behind, sealing every rut of his hips by jerking you back on his cock. In the tangled spot where ‘too much’ became ‘yes, yes, yes!’ you were lost in messy throes of pleasure.

The sound of smacking skin was more severe than even your loudest of cries. Between, you could hear Eren’s grunts and huffs through his nose, restrained, but telling of just how riled up he was to be ravaging you like this. You closed your eyes and tuned into how good you were making him feel.

Your eyes shot open when you felt your upper body slipping over the armrest, your body lurching forward with the brutal snapping of his hips. You extended a hand to the floor, the wood cool under your clammy palm, to brace yourself. And bent over that armrest, your ass perched in the air for him, you let him have you.

Eren didn’t let you hang there long, just long enough for the blood to rush to your head a bit. You were blinking and dizzy as he gracelessly swung you upright, maneuvering you so you were straddling his lap. You went with him, willingly and submissively.

You lifted to your knees before Eren seized you by the waist to impale you on his cock. You gripped his biceps as a wispy moan left you—something like an ‘ah–hah’ as a loose smile tickled at the corners of your ajar lips. Once you’d finished pulsing around him, he took care of the rest, working you up and down over his length.

He looked you squarely in the face, jaw tight and eyelids heavy with a determined look of lust. You wanted to clear the hair from his face, but before you could, you were kissing again, roughly and carelessly, with him humming as you licked into his open mouth.

When you pulled away, you were panting. Saliva connected his lips to yours. Eren’s eyes flitted down, briefly distracted by your tits, before returning to your face.

“You look good like this,” Eren told you, his voice a bit strained. He snapped the spitty string with a flick of his chin.

“Like what?” you tried to sass, but it came out warbled as he bounced you on his cock. “Getting fucked by you?”

“Exactly,” he panted through a smug half-grin. “Gonna think about this—you taking my cock so fucking good—every time I jerk off.”

That mental image did things to you.

“Mm, fuck,” you groaned, long and sweet, your teeth bearing down on your bottom lip. You shoved a hand between your legs. “I’m close—keep talking.”

If your head wasn’t tossed back, you would have wanted to slap the sick smile off Eren’s face. He would have never suspected you’d be into dirty talk.

“Oh, yeah? Gonna come again?” You nodded dumbly. “Playing with yourself—whining on top of me but can’t get there on your own, huh? Need me to tell you to come, don’t you, pretty girl?”

The words were heavy on his breath and settled in the depths of your chest.

“Yes,” you breathed, rubbing at yourself desperately.

You sensed Eren was enjoying this—uttering filth to you—as much as you did, perhaps even more. His hips sputtered as they bucked into yours, as if he wasn’t already rashly pulling you against him, stuffed to the hilt. You could already see the reddened, blotchy marks this would leave on his thighs, an unavoidable consequence of fucking like animals.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

You started rolling your hips. “I need you to make me come—please make me come.”

His cock jolted inside you, but he didn’t relent. He wanted to play with you a bit longer.

“Tell me how pretty—ah—how pretty you’re gonna look coming on my cock.”

You were right fucking there. So close that you’d do just anything—say anything. It’d spill out of you like a babbly, drooly mess of course, but you’d say it.

“So pretty—” Your shiver reverberated through your whimper, your insides ignited. “I’ll look so pretty for you when I come.”

“Fuck yeah, you are.” He punctuated it with a firm slap on your ass. You didn’t feel it because you were coming, deliriously hard.

You sounded pitchy and whiny and you just knew Eren would tease you for it in the future. You wished you could cover your mouth, but you were too overwhelmed to do anything but hold on tighter. It hit you in ripples, and you rode out every one of them, carving your nails into Eren’s arms like you could wring out the last drops of your orgasm.

“God damn,” Eren remarked, voice tight, “You needed that one, didn’t you?”

He was right, but you wouldn’t have answered even if you could.

When your shaky comedown finally subsided, it left you in a haze. You fell into him, hooking your chin on his shoulder. Soft, happy hums escaped you while you stayed there, contented, as Eren worked toward his own high.

He could have come two positions ago, but he finally allowed it to well up in the deepest part of his gut. His hands abandoned your hips only for him to lock his arms around you, holding you there to fuck up into.

Eren’s breathing began to pick up, his chest heaving against you. His thrusting turned erratic until he pumped into you one last time, deep, and kept you flush to him. It was your name on his tongue, the word he buried into your neck as he groaned from the back of his throat.

You felt him throbbing inside you as he emptied into the condom. Gradually, he moved you over his length a few times to ease himself down. After, he started to lift you off his lap. His oversensitive cock slipped from you, tearing a tiny hiss from him. When he let you go, you crumpled to the couch.

You stayed like that for a minute, staring at the ceiling, hand folded over your chest as you timed your racing heart. By the time it evened, Eren patted your leg and stood up.

He went to the bathroom; you knew it because you saw the fluorescent light seep into the hallway. You listened to the faucet turn on, then searched for your underwear and a blanket.

You’d already wrapped yourself in a fleece and snuggled into the couch by the time Eren returned. Your eyes lazily followed him as he pulled on his sweatpants and double-checked that you locked the door when you came home.

He flicked the light off, but when he realized you weren’t following him to your respective bedrooms, he turned back to ask, “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

You didn’t want to get up yet, whether it was because you were too sleepy, or because your body felt too doughy to walk, or because the thought of tomorrow now felt like a threat.

“No,” you told him. You tugged the blanket to your nose and nuzzled into it. “Not yet.”

“Okay.”

You figured that was that, but then you saw him head to the other side of the couch. It shuddered beneath his weight as he slumped into its cushions. When you sat up to look at him, he answered your question before you could open your mouth.

“I’ll stay here then, too,” he said cooly.

“Why?”

Eren thought on it, and though he didn’t decide on an answer, he was just as content with, “I don’t know. Just want to.”

Everything was silver in the moonlight, barely sneaking in through the cracks in the blind. All the color had been smudged away like ink, except for Eren’s eyes. You made out the glint in them as he wittily quoted you from earlier.

You smiled. “But I thought you were mad at me for waking you up.”

“I got over it,” he said with a leisurely shrug. “Besides, for some odd reason, I’m not so tired anymore.”

You laughed lightly through your nose, and Eren tossed you a small smile in return.

He was still shirtless—not that you minded, there was no point in modesty now—with an arm sprawled along the back of the couch. His breaths were no longer heavy, neither of yours were, but you could tell he was still cooling off from your pornstar sex because he was quick to tie his hair up again. Neater this time, with every strand up and off the nape of his neck.

His neck.

Eren noticed the way your eyes widened. It freaked him out. “What?”

You stifled a cackle. “That’s a nasty hickey you got there, Eren.”

He frowned. “Shit.” He started pawing at his neck, looking down as if he could possibly see it. “Is it that bad?”

“A little.” You leaned in to poke it, but he swatted you away. It only made you giggle harder as you said, “Hey, can you put on our show? The one I like.”

“You don’t even know the name of it! How can you say you like it?”

“I know it! I just—can’t remember it right now,” you said both confidently and sheepishly, if that was even possible.

He raised his eyebrow at you; you didn’t like it. “So I was just that good, huh?”

You snatched one of the pillows and launched it at his head. “I thought we said we weren’t going to make this weird!”

As you said it, Eren broke out into the sort of laughter you only heard from someone occasionally, one that made it feel like you could get back to the way things were—before everything.

And they would, just as Eren hoped. Except now, he had a pretty good solution for the next time he pissed you off.

thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut

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plistommy · 8 days

Text

Eddie likes to draw a lot.

He doodles on everything, his school books, magazines, his guitars or even his own hands.

He drew his tattoos for himself before getting them.

Steve thinks he’s really talented, and loves to stare at Eddie drawing for hours, but Eddie is still a bit shy about it, so Steve doesn’t sometimes get to see what he has drawn.

But one day when he was going to Eddie’s room to get his boyfriend's hoodie for himself - thanks to winter and its cold weather - he accidentally knocked Eddie’s sketchbook to the floor.

Couple of pages dropped out of it and as they were all spread out, Steve realized they were all drawings.

Drawings of him.

He crunched down to pick them up, but couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay and before he knew it, he was going through all of them.

Eddie made him look so… pretty.

He drew his face, his smile, his eyes so beautifully that Steve couldn’t even believe that the drawing’s were of him. Eddie even remembered all of his moles.

A dopey smile creeped up to his face as he went through them all, piling them back into a neat pile to put back inside the sketchbook. But when he picked up the last one, his eyes grew wide and he felt himself going red from head to toe.

There were several sketches of him, of his nude body with ringed hands, Eddie’s hands, touching him. One was of him laid on his stomach with a soft look on his face, but then the second one was more… intimate.

It was of him, legs spread wide and dick resting thick and hard on his stomach while a finger was pushing inside him. His face was scrunched up, mouth open in a ‘o’ shape and the knowledge that Steve probably looked like that when Eddie was doing it for him made him bite down onto his bottom lip.

He flipped the paper around and a whine got caught in his throat as he stared down to a drawing of him riding Eddie.

They had never done that before. But now, he really, really wanted to do it.

”Steve?”

Steve’s head snapped up to stare at Eddie, who was staring down back at him with a worried look.

He was leaning against the door frame, hair up in a ponytail and old band shirt on, looking like a dream, but when he saw what was going on, his eyes grew wide.

”Shit, sorry!” he panicked, crunching down next to Steve. He snatched the drawings and his sketchbook away from him and hid them under his mixtapes, acting like Steve hadn’t already seen all of them.

He was letting out these small apologies and Steve had no idea what he had to even apologize for, but when he saw Eddie blushing and not being able to catch his eyes, Steve understood that he was embarrassed.

”I didn’t, um - you didn’t mean to see those… sorry.”

Steve just stared at him dumbfoundedly before letting out a soft laugh and getting up. He moved his hands to Eddie’s face and held them there.

”I dropped it accidentally and I was the one snooping around, Eddie. I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you.”

Eddie sighed. He still couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes and it made him frown.

”You’re not creeped out?”

That question surprised Steve.

”Of the drawings? No, Eds. I think they’re cool.”

Then, Eddie finally looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes ever and Steve wanted to kiss him.

”You sure? I didn’t know what you’d think about them. I know they're a bit—”

”Amazing? Incredible?” Steve smiled softly and pushed Eddie’s bangs back, ”You’re so talented, babe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself like the way you draw me. I like it.”

Eddie looked like he was offended and pinched Steve’s hip, ”You are really pretty, sweetheart” he reassured Steve with a smile.

”Yeah, yeah. Says you.” Steve smiled and Eddie snorted a little before leaning in to kiss him.

When they pulled apart, both out of breath, a small grin grew to Steve’s face as he tugged Eddie’s hair, letting it fall out from it’s lazy ponytail.

”I have an idea…”

”And what’s that?”

Steve grinned more.

”Can I ride you?”

Eddie’s breath hitched and Steve laughed loudly as his boyfriend looked at him like he’d grown another head.

He loved to rile his boyfriend up, and this was the perfect time for that.

”You… really?” Eddie sounded so out of breath, more than he was before.

”I think it would look pretty great, right?” Steve purred, glancing towards the hidden pile of drawings, Eddie’s gaze following his.

All Eddie could do was answer a breathy ’Fuck yeah’ before Steve was pushing him down to the bed and straddling his hips.

Eddie didn’t hide his drawings anymore after that.

387 notes · View notes

hannyoontify · 3 months

Text

little stars - kwon soonyoung

member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader

genre | fluff, newly est. relationship

word count | 2k with some change

synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before

warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference

notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful

Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.

(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)

So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.

It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor.

He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response.

“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…”

In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.

The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan.

While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.

Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.

“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face.

You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.

Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”

You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”

Soonyoung nodded sympathetically.

“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.

“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.

(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)

Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.

You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan.

“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow.

Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”

Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”

“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”

He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face.

You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.

“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”

You snorted.

“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.

“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”

“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”

“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.

Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”

His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.

Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”

“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.

You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend.

Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.

You thought your heart was about to burst.

Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder.

Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart.

After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”

Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”

“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”

Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.”

You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love

“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you.

Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars.

“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?

“I love you.”

Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet.

You did.

“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”

“Hm?”

“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^

#hannyoontify.works #caratlibrary #seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #hoshi #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #hoshi drabble #hoshi svt #soonyoung fluff #seventeen imagines #soonyoung scenarios #queued

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fallingdownhell · 11 months

Note

Takes place when the Sumeru 4 (Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari) are still Akademiya students.

You're that one quiet, unassuming classmate of theirs who wears large, nerdy glasses and your main goal is to graduate without any attention drawn to you

Too bad, that backfires when one day, you somehow forget to wear your glasses to class and all of your classmates realize just how pretty you are.

Cute, I like this one.

Characters Included: Alhaitham; Cyno; Tighnari; Kaveh

Content: gender neutral reader; nothing else as far as I am aware

Word count: 1,2k words

Something short and sweet. Have fun!

Alhaitham

he does a double take at you as he looks up from his book

he's heard the whispering among other students, but didn't pay much mind to them, thinking they were over exaggerating again, like they always do

when you walk into class, looking completely different than you usually do, it takes him by surprise

is that really you? can glasses really have that much of an affect on people's appearances?

well, whatever it is, he doesn't say anything to you, just simply focuses back on his book

throughout the day, he notices that you became the main attraction for everyone. People coming up to you and asking questions, swarming all over you

he had half a mind to ignore them and just leave the situation, but upon seeing how uncomfortable you felt, trapped in this situation, he supposed he could lend a helping hand

under the guise of having to talk to you about something related to a project, he removed you from the situation

he stayed with you until you reached a quiet corner in the house of Daena, where you thanked him for his help

he just nodded at you, not really saying anything further but just looking at you

you begin to feel uncomfortable again, what if he views you as an attraction of sort like those other people?

yet, he simply asks you why you're not wearing your glasses again

having not expected him to say anything, you answer that they broke the other day and you're still waiting for them to be repaired

he just nodded again, then left and went about his day, but not before telling you to seek him out should you require his help again

you look after him, dumbfounded, not sure why exactly Alhaitham, of all people, was engaging in conversation with you and offering up his help to you

little did you know that he thinks of you as quite cute without your glasses. In his mind, they could just stay broken so he could continue to admire you..

Cyno

Does not recognize you

AT ALL

He doesn't mean it in a bad way or anything, but you genuinely look like a completely different person to him without your glasses, so what is he supposed to think?

When you walk into class that day, he sees you and immediately walks over to you, asking you if you switched up your classroom since he's never seen you here before

you're confused about his statement, telling him that you're in the right room and that you've been part of this class for the last half year

again, does not believe you

even when you tell him your name, he refuses to acknowledge that it's really you. He thinks it's someone walking around and pretending to be you

you have to show him your ID and even then, he's still not fully convinced

after all, if what you're saying is true, then the only thing different about you is you not wearing your glasses. But that little thing can't have that much effect on your appearance... right?

He wants to argue more, but then the professor comes in, ending the discussion between you two. And after class, you're gone too quickly for him to engage again

the next day, you come into class with your glasses on again and he thinks everything is fine again

He walks up to you and strikes up a conversation with you. As he was about to mention yesterdays events, you proceed to take off your glasses in front of him

"Believe me now?", you asked him

he was dumbfounded

apologizes profusely to you, for at least a week straight. He can't believe he made such a fool of himself. Such an embarrassement!

You quickly forgive him, it's not like he meant anything bad or was harming you in any way. But that doesn't mean that you can't tease him about it every chance you get..

Tighnari

does indeed recognise you

Tighnari, I think, is a person that pays decent amount of attention to all his classmates. Not excessively, but a normal amount

so of course he notices the change in appearance almost instantly, since your glasses were a big part about your looks

however, he notices that people are whispering among themselves, talking about you

most are taking guesses on why you suddenly decided to not wear them. Some guess that they were broken, others think that you just forgot. And some not so nice people think that you're doing it for attention

because, now that you weren't wearing them, everyone could clearly tell how good looking you were

Tighnari found himself getting unreasonably frustrated with those mean people, claiming that you were just seeking attention

so, he decided to go up to you and strike up a conversation. You were confused, but at the same time pleasantly so, about this turn of events

because even if Tighnari paid attention to his classmates, that doesn't mean that he interacts with them often

so for him to go up and talk to you first was a big deal. You offered the seat next to you to him, which he took and sat down next to you

the two of you got into talking and as time went on, Tighnari continued to sit next to you, even after you started wearing your glasses again

he never questions you about it, since you must have your reasons for it

he's happy as long as he get to talk to you, since during all that time, he actually grew quite fond of you...

Kaveh

also doesn't really notice it

Kaveh is always deep with his nose in another architectual project, focused mostly on him and his ideas

he doesn't mean it in a rude way, it's just that he has many ideas and he has to write them down constantly or he forgets about them

so yeah.. mainly focuses on himself than the people in his classroom, but he tries to stay friendly with everyone and keep nice conversations with them

one day, he is assigned to work on a project together with you and the two of you decide to move to the House of Daena where it's more quiet so you can properly brainstorm about it

during this brainstorming, Kaveh keeps staring at you. Honestly, it's really irritating to you , but you try to ignore it the best you can for the sake of your grades

meanwhile, Kaveh is deep in thought. He knows something is different about you, he's talked to you many times, so he's sure that you did something, but he can't quite place it and it's driving him crazy!

Until... he suddenly has a moment of realization!

he gasps out loud once he's gotten it, making you look at him questioningly

"Don't you usually wear glasses?", he asks you then, wanting to know your reason for leaving them

You hadn't thought he would notice this, to be honest. You tell him, truthfully, that you simply forgot to put them on this morning

"Hmm... you should do that more often. You look quite dashing without them on."

he says this matter-of-factly, then simply turning back to focus on the project. Meanwhile, you're a blushing mess from his unexpected compliment, yet he doesn't notice

he means what he said to you, but he didn't think it would have such an effect on you

but, thinking back on it now.. maybe this was the moment that the infatuation with each other started for the both of you...

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mixed-imagination · 1 year

Text

A Grisha's Affair - Nikolai x Grisha!Reader x Kirigan (part 1)

PAIRING: Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Grisha!reader x General Kirigan ♡

NOTE: This is the first part of a short two parter.

*** Requested by @seronsalk

*** Beautiful golden divider created by @saradika ♡♡♡

As you neared the rear entrance of the Little Palace, your heart raced within your chest, drumming a quick and frantic beat. You had pushed yourself to the limit, sprinting down the forest path until your lungs burned and your breath came in ragged gasps. You cursed yourself and wondered why you had driven yourself to that point anyway.

A sudden memory flooded your mind, creating a rush of emotions.

You pounded on Nikolai's door. You weren't sure why you were so eager to see him, but you chalked it up to wanting only to say goodbye.

The door swung open to reveal Nikolai standing in his untied robe. His face seemed surprised to see you, but with one look at you, he greeted you with a big smile "Y/N, isn’t it past your curfew, little miss Durast?

You mirrored his smile but furrowed your brows, "I'm no longer a child, Nikolai."

"No, you certainly are not." His gaze descended your figure which made your cheeks hot. You were suddenly aware of how exposed and vulnerable you were. There you stood, before this handsome prince, in a thin, lace night dress and silk robe.

You wrapped your robe tighter around your frame, praying Nikolai did not catch a glimpse of the cold night air exposing your natural body, "Let me in."

"Won't you get in trouble with your Darkling?”

"I haven't seen him in weeks," you pushed past him and headed straight to the opposite side of his room. You settled in front of his desk, leaning your hands back against the chair.

Nikolai shut the door and his smile widened. He waited for you to continue speaking but it didn't come, so he responded, "Am I his replacement then?"

“General Kirigan?”

“The one and only Darkling.”

"What, no, of course not. First off, he’s my superior, and you’re no way near—" You huffed, "Stop. I'm not here to be questioned by you."

Nikolai laughed, "Right. Go on then."

The halls were dimly lit, and you realized you had never ventured through the palace this late before. You prayed that no one had noticed you sneaking back in after your late-night rendezvous. You didn't want to risk General Kirigan finding out about your secret meetings.

The unfamiliarity of your surroundings and the thought of what might be waiting for you made you quicken your pace as fast as you could without running. As you rounded the next corner, your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart.

You crossed your arms, "So tomorrow you leave again."

"As soon as the sun rises, I'm off," Nikolai did not come closer to you. Instead, he copied your position and leaned his back against the door frame.

You found your gaze inevitably drawn to the way his torso muscles rippled underneath his robe with each subtle movement, causing you to bite your lip in frustration at the unyielding distance between you.

"And where are you going to this time?"

"Novyi Zem." Your chest ached, knowing well how long the journey would be. "There's a talented Fabrikator there that's willing to create a strong steel for my newest creation."

Your jaw dropped slightly. You were slightly offended but your playful tone remained, "What? Fabrikator? Have you forgotten I'm a durast? You could've asked me to—"

Nikolai finally stepped forward and raised his hands, "Y/N no, you're one of my closest friends, I couldn't—"

Friend.

A memory of his mouth on yours suddenly flashed in your mind.

Friends don't kiss.

You ignored it.

Breathless and with a light sheen of sweat on your forehead, you finally reached the entrance to your wing of the palace. You could see the guards standing, their eyes watching your every move.

You tried to act casual, as if you had simply been out for a stroll in the gardens, but your heart was racing with fear. What if they could somehow sense your guilt and apprehend you on the spot?

You approached them with a smile and a greeting, hoping to deflect their attention. They nodded politely, but you could tell they were eyeing you suspiciously.

As you made your way down your long corridor, you felt relieved to see the door to your bedroom. You couldn't believe you had gotten away with it.

You giggled to yourself, remembering once again.

"Saints, Nikolai, that's exactly why you should've asked me!" your head tilted and you tutted, "I bet I could do your fabrikator better."

"Better than 80,000 tensile strength?"

"100,000 tensile strength and more!"

He threw his head back, "Oh no, you're joking. Really?"

Your face broke into a big grin. "Yes, yes, yes, you bet your royal arse I can,” you laughed.

Like always, you fell into an ongoing easy conversation with Nikolai. Talking with him was breath of fresh air as you had a natural understanding of each other. Your conversations always felt like a plunge into an infinite pool that contained both his thoughts and yours.

As you listened to him speak about his latest invention, you couldn't help but get lost in not only his words but also in his boyishly handsome features. His dark blonde hair was perfectly messy and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. You stared at the way his lips moved and how the sharpness of his jawline accentuated with every sentence.

You tried to focus, but your mind kept wandering to other things, like how it would feel to run your hands through his hair and kiss him again. A heat suddenly began to rise in your cheeks, your attraction to him growing more obvious.

Nikolai stood only a few feet away from you now. He started to notice how your eyes seemed to linger on him a little longer than usual. "Are you alright, Y/N?"

You blinked and nodded, "Oh yes, I am."

"Good," he beamed and stepped closer. "So tell me. Why have you come? I've never seen you out this late."

You shrugged, avoiding his eyes, "What? I can't come and spend quality time with my closest friend?"

"Not at this hour, little miss goodie two shoes," he smirked.

You turned with your back facing him now and looked down at his desk, feigning interest in the papers placed on it. "Maybe I wanted to say goodbye. As a friend should."

He scoffed, "Don't say you're actually going to miss me when I'm gone."

"A good, best, closest friend would."

Nikolai was right behind you now. The third time you exaggerated the word, a knowing shit-eating grin grew across his face. "You sound like you have an issue with being my friend."

You finally entered your room and firmly pressed both palms against the door, shutting it behind you. Leaning your forehead against the cool wood, you lingered in that stance, still lost in your reverie.

"I am but your friend Nikolai, I have no issue."

Unexpectedly, the weight of his hand resting on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine, your silk robe providing little barrier between his warm palm and your skin. It felt as though his touch had set your nerves alight, leaving you with goosebumps despite the delicate fabric that separated you.

His thumb began tracing circles on your shoulder, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch. You felt his fingers slowly making their way down your arm, gently squeezing your skin. He was leaving a trail of fire along your shoulder as they traveled back up to your neck, only to slowly descend down again. With a deft movement, he pulled your silk robe down your shoulder. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of desire through your body.

"You stubborn thing. You don't want to be my friend, Y/N?"

He then swept your hair away, revealing a tantalizing sliver of skin to his gaze. As he leaned down, you felt his warm breath tickling your ear. "Nikolai," you whispered breathlessly.

"Why are you really here, love?" his voice was low and seductive.

You suddenly felt wet, tender kisses trail down your neck, causing your core to ignite. The sound of your mingled breaths and the soft smack of his lips sucking against your skin filled the air. Each touch of his lips made you feel like you were melting, completely powerless to resist him.

His strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him. You could feel his lower abdomen pressing hard against your backside, making you feel weak in the knees. Without warning, he spun you around to face him, his intense gaze locking onto yours. He leaned in for a kiss with his arms still wrapped tightly around you, as if never wanting to let go.

In that moment, all your doubts and fears faded away. It was just you and him, lost in each other.

You replayed the memory over and over again in your mind. The softness of his lips, the way his hands cupped your face, and the way you felt as though time stood still in that moment. You sighed, sinking further into the memory when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts, Y/N?"

Your heart skipped a beat, startled out of your reverie. As you turned around, your eyes landed on a tall, dark figure.

"Aleksander!"

The corners of his mouth curved upward, "You seemed to be lost in thought, milaya."

♡ part two coming soon....

soooo my brain was formulating the idea for this concept, and originally it was just supposed to be a one part one shot, but idk i just went off LOL. like holy, i went down a rabbit hole and came back up with enough plot for a series.

should i write a series? let me know what you think!!!

if i do, im imagining there'll be some mutual pining, angst, fluff, and spiiiice - wink wink wink -

if you enjoyed, please support me and my writing by giving me a like, reblog, or follow! thanks ♡♡♡

♡ gage

#nikolai lanstov x reader #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #nikolai x reader x kirigan #shadow and bone season 2 #alina starkov x reader #mal oretsev x reader #kaz brekker x reader #nikolai lantsov #general kirigan #mixed-imagination #sankta alina #tolya yul bataar #tolya x reader #tamar yul bataar #inej x reader #nina zenik #aleksander kirigan #shadow and bone

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mapiforpresident · 2 months

Note

may i request prompt 10 with emily fox where they both play for the uswnt, please? maybe they are rivals in chelsea vs arsenal? thank you!

Enemies No Longer

Emily Fox x reader

warnings: none

You and Emily Fox, two formidable forces on the pitch, had always shared an intense rivalry. As a striker for Chelsea, you were tasked with outmaneuvering Emily, the formidable defender for Arsenal and the US Women's National Soccer Team. Another reason you didn't like facing off with Emily is that you were both American, however you had yet to be called up to the national team. Match after match, you faced off against each other, each determined to lead your respective teams to victory.

But despite the animosity that simmered between you on the field, there was an undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air whenever you crossed paths. Emily's tenacity and skill challenged you in ways you hadn't experienced before, pushing you to become a better player with each encounter.

However, it wasn't until you received the call-up to the USWNT for the first time that your perspective began to shift. Suddenly, you found yourself thrust into the same team as Emily, your former rival now your teammate. As you trained together and shared the same locker room, you couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in your perception of her.

Gone was the annoyance and frustration that had colored your interactions on the pitch. In its place bloomed a newfound admiration for Emily's dedication and talent, as well as a growing sense of fondness that caught you off guard.

It started with simple gestures - a smile exchanged across the training ground, a shared laugh over a post-match meal. Slowly but surely, your feelings began to evolve, morphing from annoyance to something altogether more complex and profound.

As you spent more time together, you discovered shared interests and passions beyond the world of football. Conversations flowed easily between you, each one revealing new layers to Emily's personality that you hadn't previously seen. You found yourself drawn to her warmth, her kindness, and the unwavering support she offered both on and off the pitch.

And then, one day, it happened - a fleeting touch, a lingering glance, and suddenly, the truth was undeniable. You were falling for Emily Fox, your former rival turned teammate, in a way you had never imagined possible.

As you stood on the pitch together, side by side, preparing for another match, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. But this time, it wasn't just about the game. It was about the possibility of something more, something real and tangible that had blossomed between you despite all odds.

The final whistle blew, signaling the end of your first match with the USWNT. As you made your way off the field, your heart raced with a mix of exhilaration and nerves. But amidst the cheers and applause of the crowd, there was only one person you were searching for - Emily.

Spotting her near the sideline, you made your way over, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. She greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with pride. "Great game out there," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Thanks, Emily," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. This was it - the moment you had been waiting for, the moment to finally lay your feelings bare.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out to take her hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Emily's expression softened, her gaze locking with yours in silent anticipation. "What is it?" she asked, her tone gentle and encouraging.

"I... I've realized something these past few weeks," you confessed, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Being on the same team as you, getting to know you beyond the rivalry... it's made me see things differently."

Emily listened intently, her hand squeezing yours in silent support. "Go on," she urged, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I... I've developed feelings for you, Emily," you admitted, the weight of the confession lifting from your shoulders. "More than just teammates, more than just friends. I... I think I'm in love with you."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the air thick with anticipation. Then, slowly but surely, a smile spread across Emily's face, radiant and genuine.

"I've been feeling the same way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it aside, but... I can't deny what's in my heart any longer."

With those words, the floodgates opened, and all the pent-up emotions and desires that had been simmering beneath the surface came rushing out. You found yourselves enveloped in each other's arms, the world around you fading away as you basked in the warmth of your newfound connection.

And as you stood there, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together - one that transcended the boundaries of rivalry and united you in a love that was stronger than anything you had ever known.

For on that fateful day, amidst the cheers and celebrations of your first USWNT match, you had not only emerged victorious on the field but also in matters of the heart. And as you looked into Emily's eyes, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, forever and always.

#emily fox #arsenal women #uswnt #uswnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

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waldau · 2 months

Note

i don't know anyone who writes wonwoo as perfect as you! you manage to capture his personality so well🥺could i please request a friends to lovers thing for wonu? you've been friends for YEARS and you've had your moments and hidden glances but this one night you're just sitting out and feeling the winter breeze together. he can feel you staring and asks why you're doing that..while you contemplate whether to give in and just confess. you're so overwhelmed with emotions for him but you're also so terrified to tell him bcos you're scared to change the dynamics your relationship has so far.

thank you so much for saying that about my writing, anon :') took me entirely too long but i had a sudden burst of inspiration after seeing the latest gam3 bo1 wonwoo with long hair 😵‍💫 hope you like this! title taken from the english version of crush by seventeen.

hearts in parallel — jeon wonwoo | 2,730 words | fluff

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

wonwoo's standing outside your car in the parking lot of your office. part of you is convinced you're just imagining things, because he's supposed to be in japan. touring. doing idol things. having fun.

every morning you look forward to the pictures he's made a habit of sending whenever he's on tour, whether they're what he had for breakfast, or what a sleeping dokyeom looked like with a moustache drawn on his face. his only motive for doing that has been to convince you to let him take you on a vacation whenever you're free, because he says there's always something you'd enjoy wherever he goes.

it's sweet. it really is. even if you have to keep reminding him that you have your usual 9-5 that's so different from his schedules.

but it is wonwoo, when you focus on the way he's standing against the hood of your car, hands in his pockets as he looks at what you assume is the view of the sun setting in the distance. crazy how he'd sent a picture of it to you just today morning from another country.

suddenly, you fell woefully out-dressed. it's your usual work attire, but wonwoo's got his airport look on, complete with a dashing coat that you've never seen before. maybe he has it on only for today.

"surprise?" wonwoo asks sheepishly, when he catches you staring at him.

you blink once more, just in case. "wonwoo?" you ask, a little uncertain. "aren't you supposed to..."

"tour ended last night," he explains, pushing himself to stand properly. "i texted you afterwards."

you think back to the messages you exchanged last night, but they're a haze at best. all you can currently think of is your calendar you've been crossing things off of for a better part of the day.

any other time, you'd be extremely happy to see wonwoo, but today you don't feel like you can match his energy. "sorry," you murmur, rubbing your face. maybe if you rub it hard enough he'll disappear and you can catch up with him when you're a bit more presentable.

"hey, no," he says, catching your wrist as you pull your hands away. "you look perfectly fine. did i catch you at a wrong time?"

you realize you just said your last sentence out loud. "just tired," you say, proud of yourself at how even your voice is despite the fact that your hand is in his. "i'm glad you're here, though."

wonwoo lets go of your hand. "then is it fine if i drive you home?"

you look at him. he looks pretty serious, and you snort. "did you seriously come here just to drive me home?"

wonwoo nods. "straight from the airport. dropped my stuff home, then took a cab and came here."

no wonder he's still got the airport look on.

"you're a weird man, jeon wonwoo," you say, searching for your keys in your pocket.

"that's probably why we're friends," he deadpans, catching the keys you toss him.

"you should be sleeping," you say, chucking your bag on the backseat. "or resting at home. not being my chauffeur."

"maybe i wanted to be your chauffeur because i'm not sleepy," wonwoo replies, slipping on his seatbelt, waiting for you to do the same before starting your car. "it's been a while since we've hung out together."

that's true, you think. ever since you got this new job, your hours have been filled with work, and even though you're not overly swamped, you've been seeing your friends a bit less frequently than you would have liked. wonwoo included. and wonwoo's also had less time to spend with you, given how the band's been planning more foreign tours in the past year.

so you're glad you're spending time with him, even if you're not at your best.

"who said you don't look good?" wonwoo asks.

you bite your tongue when you realize you've spoken out your thoughts again — it's just a testament to how tired you are, with no filter between your thoughts and words. you shake your head, but wonwoo's not having any of it.

"i came here straight off my flight and i look absolutely dishevelled. you're lucky i don't mind you seeing me like this."

"your so-called dishevelled airport look is just as good as me at my best, so don't even start, okay?"

"yah," wonwoo says, laughing. "i don't appreciate you slandering yourself like that."

"fine, what do you appreciate?"

"you spending some time with me and not worrying about anything else."

blunt, as always. you appreciate it, even if it makes your heart jump a little. and it's not that you're worrying over anything: it's just the sudden nature of wonwoo's appearance that has you a little confused. but you're not complaining.

"by the way," wonwoo says, when you finally pull out onto the main road after leaving all the traffic behind, "i got you something."

"again? wonwoo, i told you i don't need souvenirs from every—"

"this was for your birthday, sweetheart," he says, pausing to pull something out of the pocket of his coat. "i still have your stuff from japan waiting to be unpacked."

"you're a menace, won," you say, hands hesitating to accept the slim box sitting on the dashboard. "i told you i didn't want anything."

"and i told you it'd be a crime if i didn't get you anything. maybe i would've listened to you if you didn't get that insanely expensive camera for me."

you glance at him. "that's—"

"—a completely valid argument," he retorts, reaching for the slim box and putting it in your lap. "i've been waiting to see your reaction ever since i got it."

shaking your head, you make a show of opening it. one thing about wonwoo is that he somehow always knows what to gift others. you could tell him you didn't want anything, and then he'd give you something you didn't even know you wanted.

case in point: there's a dainty silver chain sitting in the box, with the pendant looking very familiar. you take a closer look at it and realize—

"you didn't."

wonwoo has his mischievous grin on. "of course i did."

it's a customized engraving of your cat on the circular coin of metal, a perfect replica down to the little discoloured patch of fur on your cat's face.

you'd complained to wonwoo, once, drunkenly, about this really cute online jewellery store that sold customized necklaces. you'd never been able to find it again despite going through your search history and searching the web extensively.

now that it's sitting in your hands, you can't help but wonder how much time he must have spent tracking it down, finding the perfect picture for the engraving.

"i don't know how to thank you," you say honestly, looking at wonwoo. he still has the smile on his face, looking straight ahead.

"just wear it forever, and you're good."

"oh, emotionally manipulating me? is that how it's going to be?" you ask, tracing the chain with your finger.

"i don't think it's manipulation if it's your cat."

you can't argue with that. you snap the box shut and put it in the pocket of your jeans. "you shouldn't have, won," you say perfunctorily.

wonwoo doesn't respond, simply choosing to switch on the radio.

for once, you're not driving, and you get the chance to appreciate how beautiful the city looks when it's nearing night.

"you hungry?" wonwoo asks, when the car stops at a red light.

you shake your head. "not for a few more hours. you?"

"nope," wonwoo says, flexing his fingers on the wheel. "but tonight's a full moon night, so i was thinking we could go to the riverside and just hang out near the pier? if you're not too tired?"

you think about it. you get to hang out with wonwoo in the moonlight, which will definitely be a sight to behold. the way he's been living rent-free in your mind for a while now is embarrassing, to say the least.

"i don't mind."

you sneak glances at him when he's answers a call from dino asking him if he's free to hang out tomorrow, when he's excited to hear one of his own songs on the radio. he's cute, and the feeling's eating you up from the inside every single time you're with him.

he just looks so...boyfriend. he's let his hair grow out, and black really is his colour. not to mention his glasses which might just be your undoing.

wonwoo parks at a spot not far from the pier.

you get out of the car and immediately get hit by a gust of cool air, and you're really glad wonwoo decided to come pick you up today, because there's no way you would've come here by yourself.

the walkway around the river seems nicer than the last time you were here, bigger and better with more lights and somehow, lesser people. it's exactly what you need right now.

you fall in step alongside wonwoo, comfortably silent as you make your way from the car park, the relative silence amplifying the sound of insects chirping and people chattering around you.

you don't look down for a second, and suddenly there's a tiny pebble that gets stuck in your shoe and trips you up. you brace yourself for a slightly hard impact, but the next thing you know is that wonwoo's arm is around your waist, pulling you into himself.

"careful," he chides softly, rubbing your back for a moment before letting go. "are you okay?"

you nod mechanically.

"let's switch sides. the light's better here."

it's these little things that wonwoo does, that make you fall for him even more. what started off as a little crush is now a hopeless, helpless twinge in your heart that multiplies whenever you so much as look at him. no matter how much you've gotten better at controlling your feelings around him, you can't help but stare at how good he looks tonight, the moon highlighting his face, its silver beams running through his black hair.

you've really, really missed this. just hanging out with him. and maybe you miss the time before you realized your feelings were so earth-consumingly deep that it began clouding every interaction the two of you have had.

"do you have the box with you?" wonwoo asks, all of a sudden.

you question his words for a second, then remember. "yeah," you say, patting at the slim box sitting in the pocket of your jeans.

"let me put it on for you?"

what should have been a calm night out with wonwoo by the riverside has now ended up into you becoming a mess of nerves, your skin burning where his fingertips touch you, fastening the clasp into place. you can't see how it looks on you right now, but wonwoo already has a solution.

"stand here," he says, directing you to a particularly bright lamppost. "you need to see how good it looks on you."

you try protesting, but wonwoo brushes away your concerns. "let me just take a picture. just one."

it's never just one picture with wonwoo, and you can't stop him when he has his mind set on something. you give in and stand under the light and try to muster up a real smile for the camera. you succeed because it's wonwoo standing behind the camera, pulling a funny face that makes you laugh.

he shows you the photos once he's done taking them, and you're not looking at the camera in a single one. he always makes you look better than you do, somehow. you return the favour, taking pictures of him posing in the same spot.

"these are good," wonwoo remarks, scrolling through the photos. "i'm glad you got the moon, too."

you nod before you say something embarrassing like you're the moon, though. you watch as wonwoo takes some more pictures of the sky, and the life around the riverside. the restaurants and shops light up the view for you but you can't help but just look at wonwoo. he looks so serene and in his environment that you can't help but wonder if having wonwoo as your boyfriend would entail dates like this on a regular basis.

"you're staring," is all he says, after two full minutes of silence.

you hum and slowly turn your gaze away from him, focusing on the trees in the distance, trying to play it off casually. rookie error.

"is everything okay?" he asks, pocketing his phone and moving a bit closer to you. "want to go home?"

you shake your head. "you?"

"no, i'm fine."

and then his hand is covering yours.

you try your best not to freak out, but under his hand, your hand is gripping the railing so tightly that you're sure your knuckles are white.

"sorry i missed your birthday," wonwoo says, leaning in close enough that he's towering over you. it's the perfect height to k—

"it's not your fault," you say, licking your lips. "you had work. and you even called me when you were free."

"still. it doesn't make up for me not being here."

"i don't mind," you say honestly, your other hand gripping the railing for strength you don't currently possess. "you're here now."

wonwoo hums, seemingly dissatisfied. your hand's genuinely burning under his, and you resist the urge to check if it's on fire.

"well, for what it's worth," wonwoo says, turning to face you, "i hope you had a good day, and i hope i'm there for your birthday next year. like a good friend."

"you are a good friend, won," you say quietly. "the best."

you wonder if you should just give in and tell him how you feel. given you know how mature he is, you doubt he's going to shun you the way you're afraid he will, but part of you doesn't want your dynamic to change. he's so easy to talk to, and he knows so much about you, and you're afraid of having to find it all over again in another person. maybe it's for the best to let this moment pass.

"you are too, sweetheart." his thumb brushes against the back of your hand, and something in you snaps.

"would you still consider me the best if i told you i liked you?"

wonwoo blinks. in the wake of his silence you can once again hear the vehicles on the road behind you, the sounds of people around you, and maybe even your heart if you shut your eyes.

"you know," he says after a while, his grip on your hand still in place, "i've been trying to give you a chance to say that for the past few months."

your brain plays a comically loud record scratch sound. you look up at him, but he's smiling.

"what."

"i...was hoping there would be a small chance you liked me, and then jeonghan let it out one night when we were out drinking. but i couldn't make the first move because i was scared."

"you were scared? of?"

wonwoo takes his hand back and rubs his neck sheepishly. "i didn't know if he was telling me the truth or making things up. you know jeonghan."

"...yeah," you say, brain still trying to get back on track. "so right now i have one more person on my hitlist."

"whoa, what? i just...implied i liked you!"

"and i just said— wait. what?"

wonwoo laughs. "do you want to be on the same page as me?"

you nod slowly, still processing things. still not believing your luck.

"here's what we'll do, then," wonwoo says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "i'm going to drive you home tonight. then we can take jeonghan off your hitlist and send him some more alcohol, just as a thanks."

you wouldn't even have imagined this a few hours ago. you trail your fingers along the railing, reaching out to hold wonwoo's hand again. he meets your fingers with ease. "and what do i get in return?"

"you get to call me your boyfriend. and kiss me, if you like." wonwoo's leaning over you again. it's the perfect height to kiss you.

and he does end up kissing you, this time.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee

#just had to get this out of my drafts #literally NO one like him btw #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes #req

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