#this is what happens when she’s so good for two seasons so you build your protektion

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

SOMETIMES, you'd like to know who your mother was before she became your mother.

You want to know where the acidic and corrosive elements that precede each of her statements come from. Perhaps she acquired it from your father—someone even more poisonous than she was. However, from how it blended with her expression every time she said: “a man’s heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing!” you can't be convinced otherwise that before she met your father, she wasn't like that—that she was once a loving girl before he wrecked her and made her your vengeful mother.

Time heals all wounds, they say. And yet, as far as you know, your mother's is still dripping with blood. Rotten. Maggot infested.

You believed it was exactly what she wanted—so that it wouldn't heal, so that she wouldn't forget how much it burned and constricted her. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, and she will undoubtedly carry it with her until death. “A man's heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing,” she says, as if she's sure you'll forget what happened to her—to both of you. As if losing the love of her life was hereditary. “Don't you see, sweetheart? We are a paradox of contrasts and twins.”

You're still wondering whether it was a warning or a prayer. Good mothers ensure with all their body and soul that the past does not repeat itself, that their daughters do not embody everything they might become – their mothers. God forbid they dragged themselves across the floor, trembling fingers stretched stiffly clawing at doors that had been long since being slammed shut. However, your mother wasn’t always a good mother, and she often swore over her mother's grave that you would feel the same way she did.

And yet, despite her curses and how much you hate her as much as you hate your deadbeat father, apparently a sense of familiarity is what you're searching for.

Perhaps, that’s what made him catch your eye.

Soft footsteps were created when several pairs of ballerina pointe shoes came down the hallway after the performance ended. Smiles and laughter were among them—a familiar sight; the audience was satisfied with their performance, and they were sure that the ballet director had no more notes for them because, firstly, Marie, the main ballerina in the role of Giselle, had become the center of conversation thanks to her gifted movements, leaving no room for talking about little "building" errors for the other dancers. Second, this season has reached its end, which means they won't be showing "Giselle" again for at least the next few months.

“I saw you sneak chocolates before the show, El.” One ballerina teased.

“They're for energy!” Eloise insisted with a grin.

The ornaments on their heads moved as they both laughed. You flashed a smile but didn't dare enter into the conversation. Satin-clad feet kept moving in the direction of the corps de ballet dressing room door. More laughter and gossip ensued as you passed through the door to the small vanity you shared with another dancer.

"So where are you going after this?" someone at the next table asked, not at you.

You turned around, periodically glancing in the mirror to wipe away the last traces of makeup. "I don't know! Somewhere that can help me relieve stress, obviously. Soph?” Claudine directed her question at another, still not you.

“Sorry, girls, but I have to sit this one out. My mamma has been protesting about me coming home late lately ever since she saw some protests on TV. You two have fun without me.” Sophia declines—that leaves Jules and Claudine alone then. You were ready to return to your own thoughts when Sophia's hazel eyes fixed on you and called your name. "What about you?"

Claudine turned to you, her lips forming a teasing smirk. “Gonna go home and practice some more, no doubt,” she teased. “Live a little for once! Come out with us.”

You focused on untying your pointe shoes while the other two laughed. “No thanks, I'm tired. Think I'll just relax tonight.”

Rather than a teasing smirk, now Claudine's lips resembled a declaration that she was correct once more: "Look, I'm right, aren't I? She's still the same boring girl. No surprise that the best role she can get is dancing as a leaf in the background." It's no longer a myth. It is no longer a myth that other dancers—old and new—only see a robot prodigy, soulless in her single-minded pursuit of perfection. Your movements were full of precision, tempered by years of being under the training of a Russian coach your mother sought out for you. And yet your body is sharpened for nothing more than the purpose of being a vessel. Hushed jokes about you selling your soul to the devil for your skills.

“Aww, not even for one night? Loosen up that tight bun of yours?”

You shoved the last of your things hastily into your bag, not paying attention as someone else's hairbrush and chapstick were forced to sit on top of your toiletry bag—you can always return them tomorrow. The other girls are still laughing while you swing the overstuffed duffel over your shoulder.

“Goodnight,” you say tensely, clutching the strap of your bag so tightly your knuckles turn white. Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your shoes and hurried out of the dressing room, their taunts echoing in your ears.

London streets glistened wetly as you made your way down the sidewalk. The recent rain left dark spots on the pavement. You pull your coat tighter around you, shivering in the damp night air. As you passed a rowdy pub, loud voices and laughter spilled out onto the street. Warm light and the smell of beer beckoned from within, but you hurried on without glancing in, not wanting to face anyone's eyes.

The entrance to the subway glimmers under the streetlamps. You descend the stairs slowly, your shoes clicking on the concrete steps. The underground platform was nearly empty at this late hour. A lone figure dozed on one of the wooden benches, and a teenage couple whispered together further down the tiles. Your eyes roam over the tiled walls and ads for shows you'd never see—anything to avoid looking at other people and risking a confrontation.

The screech of brakes announces the arrival of your train, followed by beams of lights illuminating the dark tunnel. You boarded the mostly empty carriage and sat down, watching the dark tunnel walls pass by. On the opposite side, your weary reflection in the glass glances back at you.

Soulless.

Soulless ballerina.

TWENTY-THREE YEARS HAVE GONE BY: Thirteen times, you were part of the corps de ballet in Swan Lake. And now, the new director—whom they “imported” directly from somewhere in France to replace the old one—announces that the next season will be Swan Lake. You don't have anything against it—why should you? Thirteen times. Thirteen times in the corps de ballet, and this time will make no difference to you; just another faceless dancer in the flock, never the Swan Queen—they wouldn't risk a soulless ballerina in the spotlight. But wouldn't audiences grow bored of the same classic retold so often?

"Now now, I know you are all tired of this ballet," he said calmly. "But we will be doing something different - a new interpretation, with a fresh artistic vision. This will be Swan Lake as you have never seen it before. Rehearsals will focus on bringing new emotional depth and dimensionality to these iconic roles. Who knows – maybe some new faces will emerge for leading roles. I’m looking forward to seeing what you all can do. Now let us begin."

The familiar piano notes of our warm-up piece drifted through the studio as you took your place at the barre, fingers curling around the worn wood. You close your eyes and focus on steadying your breathing. Even when your muscles hurt from fatigue, you persist through well-known stretching exercises with a focused effort. Your eyelids flutter open, and out of the corner of your eye, you see the new director watching silently at the edge, his sharp eyes taking in each dancer.

“One.. and.. two.. and..”

As you move on to tendus and plies, you let the rhythm of the count wash over you – “.. three.. and.. four.. and..” Your burning thighs, your stretching calves, your flexing toes. "First position...and plié. Second position...and tendu. Third position...and rond de jambe." and the coach's familiar count. Your mind wanders as the dancers continue, thinking about the director's words about seeking new depths. Stealing a glance through the mirror, your eyes returned to the man—his ringed fingers in front of his lips as he pondered.

The music continues to play, swelling with a crescendo. You concentrate on your movements again, lifting your legs high according to standard and extending your lines through fingertips.

You found your eyes drifting to the director's reflection in the mirror more and more. The coach's voice faded into a blur as you studied his intense expression, watching for any sign of interest or approval. But time and again, his gaze passed over you without pause, lingering instead on Claire or Amelia as they executed perfect pirouettes or graceful penche poses. A familiar ache of longing and envy twisted in your stomach. No matter how hard you focused or how flawlessly you hit each position, you remained invisible to him.

Your breaths are shallow, and your head is whirling. Your eyes couldn't stop following him; he was walking around watching dancers who weren't you. He spoke to the coach, then stepped back with his hands linked behind his back. Still not you. As the music nears the end and the dancers have transitioned into combination movements, he still doesn't look at you.

You know the truth: this will be your fourteenth Swan Lake, and you will once again blend into the anonymous corps de ballet. The reflection of a woman in the mirror—your reflection, somber with lifeless eyes and dull hair pulled back in tight bun. The director stated that he wanted to bring forth new depths and emotional aspects to distinguish his Swan Lake from those of other opera houses, therefore it's fitting that he didn't choose you. As an empty ache expands in your chest, you accept the truth: this is your fourteenth Swan Lake, being another swan for the fourteenth time.

The director won’t choose you.

He won't choose you.

He won't choose...

You.

He chose you. You don't know why or how.

An hour later, you find yourself standing in Studio A, facing uncertainly across the hardwood floor. Five of the girls sat at the end of the room while the director watched Claire give her interpretation of Odette in her white swan act. You watch her movements critically, noting the slight wobble in her lower back and how her port de bras could be straighter. Her pirouettes needed more control and spotting—you counted two extra turns that threw off her balance. Then she launched into the black swan's sinister variations. Gone was the white swan, replaced by a vixenish temptress oozing sensuality from her pores. The director made a few thoughtful comments you didn't quite catch before dismissing her.

The director breathed out your name and you were quick on your feet. He crossed his arms over his chest as you took your place in the center. You looked at the girls behind you through the mirror reflection, then at the director, then signaled the pianist to begin.

The famous White Swan melody plays, and you start. Plie, tendu, glissade—your limbs moved through the steps as they had a thousand times, polished, technically perfect. Your movements rely on muscle memory, analyzing your every move through a critical lens. First pose: left arm extended, back straight, neck long. Check. The second one: right leg stretched to the sky, toes pointed to the max. But was your ankle tilted just now? You furrowed your brows while making a mental note to adjust. Entering another glissade, you land on the ball of my foot, keeping your plie low. One.. and.. two. You count the seconds, nitpicking any imperfections.

“Slow down, dear, find your breath.” The director's voice cuts through your thoughts. Find your breath? You were in complete control of your breathing, hitting every mark precisely as the music demanded. What more should you find?

You barreled ahead through the choreography, unwilling to let up on your own rigid standards even as he continued offering feedback. "Loosen your shoulders...savor each moment rather than rushing to the next...let us see you feel the music, not just hear it."

But you are feeling it. You feel every crescendo and decrescendo—you stay in rhythm with the music as the score enters the ritardando section. How could he say you didn't feel the music when you lived and breathed each score? You knew this piece inside and out. From the opening notes, you have remembered not just the choreography but every key change and tempo variation. By the time you sank into your final pose, you were a bundle of nerves.

“Your technique is superb, but so tightly wound,” the director said. “Try to loosen up your lines and embrace the artistry, not just the steps. Now, show me your Black Swan.”

As the dark notes of the Black Swan coda swirl, you pour all your focus into hitting each precise movement with flawless technique. You arch into an arabesque, extending your working leg to the maximum while maintaining perfect turnout. Your spot was fixed, and your balance was unwavering. You continue through the practiced motions, and you fly into your final fouetté combo. As the last note faded, you struck your ending pose.

Slowly, you straightened your body and lifted your gaze to meet his, pressing your sweaty palms together tightly. The director remained silent, hand in front of his mouth, and looked you up and down in a way that made you want to flee. But, you restrained yourself, waiting patiently for his consideration. The pressure in the room was so intense that it made you suffocate.

After what felt like eternity, he gave a small nod – neither acceptance nor rejection. “Thank you, Mademoiselle, that was… illuminating. Please check the cast list tomorrow morning – we will announce our decisions then.”

The compliment is ambiguous, with two implications that you know tend toward the negative. Your anxiety failed to calm down, and all you could muster was a hushed thank you before you left the studio in a daze, questions still swirling around unanswered like always.

Now here you are, unfortunate enough to be under the wailing sky of London with minimal cover from a shuttered cafe. The dense fog and wind impede your eyesight, making it difficult to see the towering structures. On the left side, several cafes and pubs radiate their orange lights from within, beckoning anyone in need of somewhere to go for a quick drink or two. Anyone but you, apparently.

The city streets felt hauntingly deserted through the deluge of falling water. Shivering even in your coat and tights, you knelt down and tightened your scarf. Puddles of water begin to form in the potholes, and you desperately hope that the rain will stop soon; you still have a long ride home on the subway to prepare for tomorrow.

Just then, a splash of heavy footsteps caught your attention.

Through the sheets of rainfall, you glimpsed a tall figure hurrying down the sidewalk, taking in what little details you could discern. His leather jacket and boots, yet the way he hunched his broad shoulders against the storm conveyed a certain roughness. You squinted to make out his face, only to find it covered by a mask and a hood pulled too low. It's unsettling, but disturbingly, it makes you enthusiastically guess what lies beneath it—was he handsome or scarred? Young or weathered by experience? It intrigued you so much that you didn't realize he was only three steps away from you.

As the stranger approaches, you take more details that should have set off alarms. His all-black leather jacket may have been fine material, but it was worn and faded. And although broad-shouldered, his build spoke more of hardened muscle than gentility. Everything about him screams danger. When he drew up beside you, you intended to duck past and continue on your way.

But something held you rooted to the spot.

Now, two strangers stood side by side, between them were raindrops dragged cruelly by the cold wind. His towering figure was as still as a statue; for a man his size, he was skilled enough to be almost invisible, almost. The scent of him washed over you then—alcohol, but not the refined wines and spirits of high society. This was something rougher, meant to burn away thought rather than enhance it. Beneath that, cigarette smoke and a musky men’s cologne, attempting to cover something.

The man is still silent, and you should've taken this as your second chance to leave. There are only two possibilities for a man like him: a perverted stalker or a serial killer—most likely the latter, because for what reason would he decide to take shelter under the awning of a dark bankrupt cafe with a woman when the surrounding pubs are still serving happy hour?

While the stranger settles against the wall, you notice his large hand drift casually into his pants pocket. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in panic wondering what weapon he might pull out – a knife, or worse. All instincts screamed to run away, but your feet remained rooted to the ground, frozen.

“Nasty night.”

Your body comes to a complete stop. The air is forgotten, and you wonder if you really heard him speak just now or if you were just hallucinating. He has a roughness to his voice, gravels, and a low range with a hint of timbre muffled by his dark mask. Unknowingly turning toward him, you stared at his side profile until he met your gaze, and you swiftly looked straight forward again.

“Uh, y-yes, quite a storm,” You stuttered in reply, cursing your trembling voice. Gripping your duffel bag tighter, you tried not to say anything that might offend him.

Minutes pass, the rain as the only noise. Finally, he spoke again, "Subway, yeah?" Between the sound of the rain and his muffled ones, you tried hard to make out what he was saying. After fully understanding it, you give it a nod.

“Yes, the subway. Though it may be closed by now with the weather.”

The man pulled out a pack of cigarettes. From the corner of your eye, you knew he was taking off his mask. Your heart beats fast as you resist the urge to turn your head, settling to look at the dark street in front of you instead. Smoke wafts between you both, creating faint, short-lived tendrils in the air.

The two of you were in silence. You wanted to talk to him again but didn't know what there was to say; it could be that he just wants to smoke with a company, a quiet company. He let out a puff of fresh cigarette smoke, and you inhaled it all. Toxins are bad for the skin and lungs, and yet you're better off suffocating than giving the impression that you're disturbed.

“Subway's closed, like you said. No sense waiting in the wet.” He took the last drag and threw the cigarette butt into the gutter. “Come on then. Pub's the best place for now.” His voice muffled again – he had put his mask back on.

You hesitated at his offer, biting your lip as you weighed the options rapidly in your mind. On one hand, the rain shows no signs of letting up, and this awning provides only a little protection at best. But to follow a strange man through the streets, alone, allowing him to take you to a spot where inebriation may be present—where his worst pals might be waiting. Girls your age being spiked is something you hear about a lot.

Shaking your head, you manage a small smile. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I'll be right here. Best not to trouble you further on such a night.”

He tilts his head, his eyes peering from the mask's shadows as if reading your unspoken fears. Does he see the consideration behind your polite refusal—how now you are a vulnerable woman, and this relative anonymity without further conversation is a safe option, despite the discomfort? Within his dark eyes, there was a stirring that you didn't understand. Pity? Or mockery? Under his towering height and massive body, you were nothing but a frightened rabbit.

Gusts of wind drive cold droplets under the awning. You suppressed a shiver, hugging yourself tighter. “Really, I'll be fine. The rain can't last forever." A forced laugh follows your words.

You seize the chance to stare back at him. It was impossible for you to know what calculations were going through his mind, or what emotion lay beneath that mask. It's pretty unfair, you think, that he can hide under a hood that nearly makes him invisible in the dark of night while he can see all of you—a greasy-haired woman hoping the man in front of her will respect her dumb decision. It's the least he can do.

Just when you think this staring game would go on for another minute, he turns his gaze. “Suit yourself, love.” His voice comes out gruff, and your heart drops thinking you've let him down (but, for what?). "But you'll catch your death waiting in the rain."

A pang of guilt crashes into you as he turns his shoe the other way. For safety's sake, you rejected him, thinking you're being sensible; but there's an authoritative voice in the back of your mind telling you, "He's the first nice guy in a long time, and look what you gave in exchange for his kind offer." Self-doubt is playing in your heart. His back was already turning, boots squelching away into the rain.

“Wait!” You called after him, hating how small and frightened you sounded. He paused and searched back, eyes questioning through the mask. Steeling your nerves, you step into the downpour. “I'm coming with you.”

If this guy thinks you're an indecisive woman who can't even commit to a decision for more than five seconds, thank goodness he didn't say anything other than give you another stare. He led the way as he went, holding the door of one of the busy London pubs. More liquor and tobacco smells. You both entered, bringing a burst of damp wind with you. The warmth and noise within are a shock after the storm outside.

He steers you towards the fireplace, shrugging out of his soaked jacket. “Get yourself by the hearth,” he said, nodding to an empty chair. “Dry off.”

You did as he said gratefully, holding your hands out to the flames. The colors returned to your cheeks; fear slowly evaporated away.

“What'll you have, love?” He asked, and you frowned before understanding. Oh, drinks.

“Something light,” is all you say, eyes lowered again. The man gave a nod and went to give the bartender the order.

He returned not long after, setting the drinks down and taking the chair opposite to yours, stretching out his long legs toward the fire. You took the gin with a murmured “thank you.” He settled with his own—whiskey in a glass, neat. You glanced at the remains of rainwater dripping heavily from his clothes in a growing puddle at his boots. The drinks were enjoyed in companionable silence, still trying to find calm after the storm's fury.

The fire crackles merrily as you sit. Finding your voice, you clear your throat gently.

“Thank you, for…” Your fingers tapped nervously on the glass. “Well, for everything, I suppose.”

His eyes lifted from the flames to meet yours, and you offered a small smile. “I’m (Y/N).”

As the name slips out, you berate yourself. How stupid, giving up something as personal as your name! This man was still a stranger, no matter his kindness so far. For all you know, bad intentions could be lurking behind that calm gaze even now. But in the cozy glow of the fire, your sense of awareness wavered, lulled to sleep in a false sense of security.

He merely nodded, moving his hand to the mask hook over his ear without expressing much emotion. Your eyes widened, and your heart was pounding. The breath in your lungs stilled in anticipation as the fabric peeled slowly back, inch by inch. Is he about to...?

The man removed his mask, appearing at ease and lacking in secrecy. He looks at you, and you quickly look aside, pretending to offer him a little privacy. You wait for him to finish, to put it on again, but he never does. Is it okay to look-

Deciding to no longer be the uneasy one (since the guy looks completely unconcerned as he takes a long sip of his drink), you follow suit and allow the liquid to cascade down your throat. There's a slight thump as your glass hits the aged wood. Your curiosity is piqued even more by the fact that he hasn't made any moves to wear it again. Slowly, you raised your gaze, meeting that unveiled gaze – a secret not meant for your eyes.

Blonde eyelashes – pretty. Faint shadows hung under the eyes. Light stubble. Scars dotted his jaw, thin white slashes earned from unknown origins. His nose sat slightly off-center, clearly broken more than once in past altercations—bar fights, perhaps? Though something about the precise thinness of the lines didn't seem right for brawling. Regardless of which one, he is clearly no stranger to violence, and being near him is enough for someone to sense the danger he was capable of.

But, there is something about that powerful jawline, the intensity found only in his hooded eyes, spokes of steel and intricate details that defy explanation. Fire in his eyes. Even after taking off the mask and grasping it between his lengthy fingers—just when you think all the curtains have been exposed—he still remains a mystery.

(And you're just another gullible woman who believes she knows how to solve the puzzle.)

You wait; surely he will offer his own name in return now that you've bared yours. But seconds ticked by in the silence, and still he said nothing.

A flush crept up your neck at the realization that he had no intention of reciprocating. Did you misread this entire meeting? Why did he bring you here if not to talk? You observe his stony profile, wishing you could see past him. Did he intend to remain a mystery—an enigma full of intrigue? Or is it actually a test to see how long your curiosity can last?

Your fingers fidget with the condensation on your glass. Under this new tension, the easy silence fell away. Seeking an escape from the awkwardness, you looked for something, anything. Your gaze landed on a group of regulars in the corner, laughing boisterously.

“Do you, um, come here often?” You ask lamely, cursing your inability to make small talk. But there was an amused glint in his eyes that put you back at ease.

“Aye, I'm 'ere often enough,” he replied, taking another sip. You assume he finds humor in your discomfort, rather than mocking it. The knot in your shoulders loosened, and you relaxed into a smile again.

For good or ill, this man stirred something deep inside you—and you're desperate to scavenge for light, safe conversation topics to continue the conversation.

“So, um, what kind of work do you—” You catch yourself, cheeks warming. Too personal to ask a stranger met by chance. You let out a dry laugh. “Sorry, I don't mean to pry. It’s just… making conversation.”

At the small thud of his glass meeting the scarred wood of the table, your eyes darted up in surprise. Already empty—have you been so lost in thought that you missed him finishing? A swell of questions rose inside you as you watched his movements for a clue. Would he signal the bartender for a refill, extending your time together? Or was this the end—the strange encounter came to a close because you somehow offended him for prying too much?

“Military.”

Unexpectedly, he gave a single-word reply. Military—that explains a lot, from his physique and bearing to the scars and the lingering scents that cling to his coat.

"Oh!" was all you could think of as a response. More questions swim to the surface, demanding to be asked, but you quash them, not wanting to risk being presumptuous a second time.

Feeling indebted, you then offer, "I do ballet, with the Metropolitan Opera." The words slip out before you can check them, and inwardly you curse yourself once again. 

Great. Name, job, and workplace. Why don't you give him your address next?

You bit your lip. Risking a glance up, you hope he won't take your openness as foolishness. His quiet acceptance has so far calmed your nerves, and now you find yourself craving that ease again.

“Must be rewarding,” is all he offers—you grow accustomed to his terse responses. Plain, perhaps even half-hearted, but you smile as though he had read you a lovely poetry full of flattery.

“Yeah, it's really rewarding to dance and like, share that joy with others.”

Liar. What can a soulless ballerina have to share? So far, frustration is what you inflict on your director, and criticism is secretly a “reward” for your fellow dancers. You understand perfectly well, from the top of your head to the balls of your toes, that there is no joy that you can share. However, this man didn't know. He doesn't know who or how you are. Since the very beginning, you have spoken truth to him; allow this one deception to pass.

Your fingertips made a gentle squeak as they rubbed across the condensation on your glass. “If I may ask… what inspired you to serve?”

For a moment, he was quiet, considering with eyes turned to the flames.

"It was a calling, I suppose," came the gruff reply. “The world had its darkness even then. Felt a duty to stand against it.”

After providing an answer, the two of you returned to silence. You gazed thoughtfully into the flames, thinking of how you might spark another conversation that didn't rely solely on question and answer. The last thing you want is for him to view you as overbearing or pushy.

“What drew you to ballet, then?”

It was unexpected for him to pose a question, and you were taken aback when he did. Your lips curved into a smile as you thought about the answer, and your mother's role in starting it all.

"Well, I think it started because Mom thought ballet was 'cute'." A tone of amusement permeates your voice. “She had no idea about the art or discipline—she just wanted to see her little girl swirl and spin in frilly costumes. But I had fun dancing, dressing up, and listening to the music...”

Somewhere in your head, your mother's voice echoes again. Bitter and resentful, encased in an everlasting nightmare. Your mother stood in the audience, and you ran towards her, tutu skirt fluttering gently. She wiped her eyes and knelt down in front of you, whispering, "You were marvelous, sweetheart," as she drew you in. She smiles, but it stops short of her eyes. Then a string of apologies, saying that he’s gone—that she knew he had promised you to be here, but he's gone. Dad is gone. And he'll never see what you can do.

“My first real performance, in elementary school… I was so proud when the curtain fell.” You continue, remembering another face that has long been a ghost in the past.

("Why did you let that man walk away?")

You clear your throat softly. “After that, it just felt right, you know? Like I'd found where I belong.”

Liar.

Steering away from the bitter past, you change the direction of the conversation again. “Are you from around here?” It's a simple question, maybe even stupid. His accent alone makes it plain he grew up in this land, but, no matter how long you've lived in England, you have a small grasp of regional dialects within the country.

“I mean, I know you're obviously from here—your accent kind of gives it away.” You waved. “I just meant—is this area home for you? Or are you from elsewhere originally?”

The barest upturn of his lips catches your eye. Was that a smile? On this gruff, grumpy stranger who has only revealed so little so far? Your heart beats at the sight, rare as a summer snowflake. He reached into his pocket, took out a cigarette, and held it between his dry lips. The lighter ignited, and white smoke was blown out.

“Manchester, originally,” he said, intonation hanging. He took another drag of his cigarette before exhaling slowly and adding, “A different world now. You?”

“I've been in the city for years now, but I'm from San Francisco.” You said. “When the chance came up to transfer here from my old opera house back home, I leapt at it. Felt it was time for a fresh start, to spread my wings and live on my own. And maybe get out from under my mom's feet—love her to bits, but she can be a bit much sometimes.”

From your own remarks, you can't help but question if mothers are as harsh on their sons or if this is solely reserved for daughters. Girls are taught to keep close to home and their hearts, while boys are free to roam and explore. Is it any wonder, then, that spreading your wings felt like escaping? You wanted to ask him but ended up lacing your tongue tightly.

The fire's burned low, just embers burning gently in the fireplace. Time passed unnoticed as the two of you sat chatting quietly. But outside, the rain began to subside until it was a fine patter on the roof.

“Storm’s passed, seems.”

As he speaks, you glance up to find his guarded mask has fallen once more into place. The easy openness that had soothed tired nerves now closed again – strangely making you bereft. A feeling of melancholy welled up in your chest at the thought of parting, of kissing away the intimate bubble the two of you had crafted and going back out there into the cold reality where you would be strangers again. Your fingers fidgeted in your lap as you searched for words.

“I suppose you're right… it has eased off some.” Your voice came out small and awkward to your own ears. Licking your dry lips, you added, “thank you, for your company. It was…nice, not to feel alone.”

 He stood up, stretching his tall frame. After this, the spell of the evening will evaporate, and everything will return to the reality of loneliness once again.

“C'mon then, let's get you home,” he said gruffly, offering a hand to help you up. His strong hand envelops your smaller one—rough yet tender, sending warmth through your limbs that have little to do with the fire now dying.

Pushing through the heavy doors, the night air is a contrast to the warmth of the pub. Thick fog covered the streets, rain-slick stones glistening under the street lights. He waved at the first cab that passed—and you prayed it wouldn't stop so you could buy a little more time with him.

It stopped. The night was set to end.

He holds it while you slip inside. Through the open window, your eyes met his; he crouched beside the window, broad shoulders hunched. He's talking to the cab driver, but you can't hear it—not when your heart flutters madly in your breast over a single question. The ache of still not knowing his name. It seems wrong, unfair, that he knows you so well, yet you know nothing of him in return.

The cab lurches into motion, snapping the spell. Panic rises in your throat; you can't let him disappear into the night—to the back of your head like another passerby.

“Wait—please! I don't know your name."

Before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out in a desperate rush.

The second ticks by as you wait. He finds you foolish, for sure—just another desperate, nosy girl who wants to play detective the second she sees a puzzle. The clinginess in your request must have given the impression that you were a fool in love—gullible and name-obsessed.

Something shifts in his dark eyes, and you hope it's a wall crumbling away. Then, in his low rumble – “Simon.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, almost parting your lips in question before—

“Name's Simon,” he repeats.

(And the sun breaks through storm clouds.)

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #reader insert #simon x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley angst #simon riley angst #ghost angst #simon ghost riley x reader angst #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley x reader fluff #writing commission #story commission

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

For some reason I feel the need to defend Violetta when people say she’s annoying in season 3, but also she is annoying in season 3 so they are not wrong 😣 But I still get like ”😡 Why are you saying this stuff about my child. I mean I sort of agree but also 😡😡😡😡”

Though I will say one thing and that is, I totally get why she was upset with Fran not telling her about Diego, cause it was like ”not even my BEST FRIEND trusts me anymore?” but yeah, maybe she didn’t pay as much attention or she perhaps would have asked Fran about that herself, or perhaps search her up like ”You were gonna tell me something, right? Can you tell me now?” - but their reunion is so nice and after Vilu read her letter it was like she realised everything, all sides, and tbh after Franletta’s reunion, Violetta could much easier build up her relationship with Leon again - which as i have mentioned before, Violetta and Leonetta get really back on track after 3x50 for me, and I think it was because Vilu just needed that push back to earth, back to reality and actually act like herself again - the kind, not as obnoxious girl she was in S2

#this is what happens when she’s so good for two seasons so you build your protektion #protection* #and then s3 tries to make you tear down your protection and you’re in a constant battle #idk what happened there at the end it’s 1 AM and I was gonna talk about one thing and then fell into talking about another thing #i think it was the reason I made this post was that I saw someone say Violetta didn’t listen when Fran tried to tell her about Diego #which like #it’s TRUE but it’s not the FULL TRUTH #wndkkrkrl #so much in s3 is complicated cause we see EVERYONE’S SIDES #AND WE GET EVERYONE #WNEKEODOFOODF #violetta #Diecesca #Franletta #leonetta

[jacaerysgf]

Deja Vu | Pt. 1

s.m: You are falling to your death. Your final wish is to be able to go back and stop the war. It seems the gods have granted your wish and you open your eyes to be back to the fateful day before of lucerys trial months before your 'death'. You must do everything in your power to prevent the war even if the only way is to find herself in the arms of the one man she hates most, Aemond Targaryen.

w.c: 8.6k

c.w: minor spoilers for the later seasons of hotd, putting anything else here would be spoilers. but theres nothing too crazy don't worry. NOT PROOFREAD theres smut i promise for the freaks out there.

a.n: this is literally just two freaks trying to see if they can match each others freak, enjoy !

masterlist - part two soon !

d.t ml @venmondiese

You’re falling. How long have you been falling? They say when you die you see your whole life flash in front of your eyes but all you see is the grey sky above you.

You are going to die.

You expect to be more scared. You should be screaming, crying, yelling for help. But as you fall through the skies the one thing you feel is regret. As you watch your dragon be chomped up by vhagar, the way your body burns after being lit on fire, you just saw your brother be knocked off his own dragon into the sea.

Whoever is listening to me now. I will beg of you. If i can only ask for one thing, i wish to go back. To stop this all from happening. To prevent the war. Please. This is all i wish. If in death i only wish to remember the good. Please.

You allow yourself to close your eyes. You shall meet the stranger soon. You expect it to hurt once you hit the ground, yet it does not.

Instead your eyes burst open with a jump and you take many a deep breath.

“Are you alright dear?” You look in front of you with alarm. Your mother and your step father look at you worriedly. What in the hells is happening?

You were just in battle. You look down at your outfit and realize you are wearing the same outfit you had been wearing to the keep when you arrived for Lucerys trial. You look back up and notice your parents also appear to be wearing the same outfits as that fateful day. You were sitting in the same carriage, the same familiar bumps in the road.

Were you replaying your life as some had claimed? But it felt too real. “Sweetheart?” your mother reaches forward. as best she can as viserys sits on her lap, and grabs your hand, “Bad dream?” Maybe it had been all such a terrible terrible dream. “Yes, I'm sorry mother.” She squeezes your hand before letting go, going back go bouncing viserys on her leg.

You lean back and take a couple deep breaths. It was simply a terrible dream. But when you turn to your right you gasp, “Lucerys.” He looks at you with wide eyes, “Are you well sister?”

You cant help but hug him, turning your body towards him so he is practically sitting in your lap, shoving your head into his neck, filling his pulse race against your forehead. “Sister? What are you doing? ow this is uncomfortable!” You ignore his whines as your eyes build up with tears. Months, you have gone months without seeing him, hearing his voice, smelling him, feeling his pulse, you missed him. You missed him so much. “Are you crying?” your tears had begun to drip down his neck and soak into the neck of tunic.

“I had a terrible dream.” You rush out as you sob. Because that's all it was. An awful dream. You feel Lucerys unstiffen as he relaxes in your touch, allowing himself to get comfortable in your lap as it grows clear to him you have no intention of letting him go. you hear him whisper to you “I am alright sister, i promise.”

You say nothing in return, just allowing yourself to listen to his breaths. It is almost as if it was real, him truly dead. You try to ignore the churning of your stomach as he begins to play with the ends of your hair, his head soon drops to your shoulder and you hear his breath relaxing. He’s sleeping. You slowly turn yourself to be facing forward, his head falls into your shoulder as he begins to softly snore. You rub your hands up and down his back as you finally rid yourself of your tears.

“Was your dream truly so horrid sister?” You turn to your left and there sits Jacaerys, next to him sits Joffrey who was fast asleep. You try to ignore the flashing images of arrows pelted into his skill that appear in your mind when you see his face. You reach your hand up and touch his face, your hand lays on his cheek as he blinks at you. “So horrible.” He grabs your hand from his cheek and laces your fingers with his.

“It was just a dream dear sister. Do not fret.”

Yes. That's all it had been. A really awful terrible dream.

Yet it gets harder to deny it was in fact all just a dream as the sequence of events play out exactly the same as they had. How your mother had been greeted at the gate, how your parents told you and the boys to entertain yourselves while they went to go meet with viserys. Even the walk to the courtyard was the exact same save for the way you clung to Lucerys which he was more than happy to let you, as he had his own nerves about being back in the keep.

This was so strange. You watch as Jacaerys eagerly approaches the swords, the way Lucerys looks around anxiously, the way Joffrey trails at your other side. You felt sick.

Your stomach drops, as you think about what you had been praying for. Were the gods truly giving you another chance? To fix this? But how would you even fix this? You know you cannot let it happen as you feel Lucerys tightly grip your hand. You have to do everything in your power to make sure he stays safe, to make sure they all stay safe.

But how would you even go about such a thing? The family is basically beyond repair. You know of what will occur, if you can’t figure this out. You try to come up with anything.

Suddenly you hear the clanging of swords and you whip around. As much as you hate to admit it an idea pops in your head. No. This can’t be it. There must be something else you can do. Not him. definitely not him. Yet you find yourself getting pulled along by Lucerys to watch the fight.

He truly is such a skilled swordsman, you would know you’ve seen him in the fields, even having gone head to head for a moment before you fled. You can barely pay attention to the fight. This is it. If you’re really going through with this you would need to start right here right now. You must be able to come up with something else right? There is no way this is the only option.

“Nephews, have you come to train?”

Your mind comes up blank. You feel Lucerys move to hide behind you as Jacaerys takes a step back.

His eye finally moves to you, “Niece.”

You have no other choice.

You let go of Lucerys and take a step towards him, you put on your best smitten look and smile at him. “Uncle, its been too long.”

You must be bold, you must do anything for your family.

You offer him your hand, it hands in the air for a moment and you fear he will simply brush you off. You’re sure your brother are staring at you confused but you can’t be bothered to care as an amused look graces Aemond’s face and he tilts his head.

He grabs your hand and brings it up and his head far down enough to lay a kiss on the back of you hand. You let the smile on your face grow no matter how much you wish to spit at him.

“You have grown into a beautiful lady dear niece.”

You bring one of your hands to cover your mouth as you look down at the ground. You feel Lucerys tug at the back of your dress but you cannot give up.

“and you have grown into a fine prince dear uncle.”

The sudden marching through the hall should not startle you the way it does. Maybe you had just been so lost in your act you could not remember when it had happened. You watch with blank eyes as Vaemond stares you down, you doubt his fate will change and he no longer scares you the way he once had.

You turn back towards Aemond and see he is already look at you. You smile at him before you turn you back to your brothers. “If you wish to go you can, i wish to stay here.” Jacaerys looks at you with worry, “Truly?” You remember you had all quickly fled to your rooms after seeing Vaemond and you knew he would soon suggest you all head back. yet you can’t go not now, not when you must make this believable.

You nod eagerly and they hesitate, especially Lucerys who truly does not want you to leave but you urge them too, it would not go as well if they were here.

“Shooing off your nephews dear niece? how disappointing.” Aemond finally speaks as you watch them quickly walk away not before sparing you once last glance before they turn the corner.

You hate to admit you think he is handsome. Probably the most handsome man in the realm. When you look at him he has a smirk on his face. “Would it be scandalous to say i wish to just spend some time with you my prince?” He raises his eye brows and a look of surprise crosses his face before it drops back to his more stoic look. He takes another step towards you and the smirk graces his face once more as you bashfully look away from him. “You truly wish to?” No. definitely not. “What if i said i did?” You whisper towards him.

He looks like he about to say something else before a voice cuts in behind him. “The prince still has training to do. He best not be faced with any,” Criston looks at you with a glare which leads you to try to hold back you eye roll, “Unfortunate distractions y/n”

You open your mouth to say something, you are unable to stop yourself, wishing to spit some vile insults at him but Aemond speaks before you can. “It is princess to you ser Cole, best not forget yourself.”

You can’t help the smile that grows on your face and the warmness that spreads though your chest. No. You should not be feeling like this. He simply did it as he knows it is rude to not address you correctly, you know it would certainly make him mad.

It amuses you the way criston bites his tongue and mummers to himself for a moment before speaking again. “My apologies princess.” You nod, not wishing to fight with him as of now. “But the training yard is not a place for, you, it would be best if you left.”

You still think he is talking to you inappropriately but you will not say anything to him for now as you simply turn back to Aemond. “I suppose i shall leave, but will you take long? I wish for someone to show me around the gardens, if you would of course.”

You fold your hands behind your back as you stand up tall, You can not faulter. It would be good to get away for a moment, as you have a request you must make. criston speaks before Aemond does, “I will request a guard for the princess-” “I shall not be too long, though i would hate to make you wait.”

You shake your head a begin to walk backward, the smile on your face growing “I will wait as long as it takes dear uncle, please come fetch me i shall be in the library.” You turn before either of them could say anything else and hurriedly walk up the steps and out of view.

Once you are far enough away from the room you lean against the wall and take a couple deep breaths. You feel sick but you can’t help the way your heart races as you think of the interaction.

Was he always so, charming? Well the last time you had met you had been children. Until the rest of your brothers and step sisters you did not see him on driftmark as you had been bed ridden with a fever during the service and your mother thought you too unwell to travel. You had no clue what happened and you had no clue that would be the last couple moments you spent in the keep as you woke up one day on dragonstone, apparently having been taken while you were asleep.

He was always a meek kid, you being a couple years his senior, never really spent that much time with him. You remember seeing him getting picked on and you would scold your two younger brothers and send an apology to him but beyond that there was nothing too it. He was certainly a grown man now.

No. You shake your head to yourself and slap your cheeks. What were you thinking? This is the man who murdered your little brother. Who slaughtered house strong. You could not be thinking this this. It does not matter. You no matter how much you despised him had to get this done. You do not walk towards the library. Instead you walk far up the stairs until you are stopped by some guards.

“I would like to speak to my grandsire, is he free?”

“The hand should take care of any concerns you have.”

“I am first born daughter of his first born daughter Rhaenyra Targaryen you will allow me entry if he is free.”

You cross your arms and stare at the guards who look at each other before they allow you entry to the room. You have not seen him in years you doubt he even knows who you are. So when you hesitantly enter the room and come into his view you try not to gag at the sight of him. You had forgotten how close to death he looked, it know being clear to you he was on his death bad, basically standing at the strangers doorstep.

“Aemma?” You whine and walk closer to him. “No grandsire it is me, y/n. Rhaenyra’s daughter.”

He is silent for a moment before he lets out an ah and a smile graces his face, allow you to grab his hands and sit on the bed next to him. “Yes yes y/n, my dear its been so long. too long.” You nod and smile as best you can at him. “Yes grandsire i have missed you.” He agrees and squeezes your hands.

“There is a proposal I’d like to ask you of.” You hesitate, this is really it. You have no clue if this is even going to work. But you have to try, even if it kills you you must try. “I am sure you could see how our family has been divided as of late,” You know exactly how to pull at him, how to get him to agree, remembering his speech from the fateful dinner that will probably occur tomorrow. “I hate it. I wish for us to be a family together. Which is why i must tell you. I have been in love with Aemond since i was a young girl. He is the man for me grandsire i am sure of it. So i must ask for your blessing in our union, to grant me my one true wish. To make our family whole.”

You are proud of yourself that you do not throw up. You are sick. You cannot believe you are even asking this. But you have to, you see no other path forward. If you can convince him to be on your side and stop this maybe it could all be prevented. You could be a fool walking into a lions den but it does not matter, you have to try.

“Yes yes that is all i wish for yes you shall marry him. oh the wedding will be beautiful, and we will be all together.” You do not have the heart to tell him he will probably not make it to the wedding. instead just smiling brightly and thanking him, squeezing his hand tightly. “Oh thank you grandsire this makes me so happy.” He nods eagerly before he begins to cough, telling you he needs some rest but as you walk away you can see him fall asleep with a smile on his face.

You are going to be sick. You are going to marry him. If you live long enough to marry him, if he does not kill you first. You try to hide the fact that your hands are shaking so badly and you stumble slightly as you walk as you make your way to the library. You know him to be a ruthless man. A Kinslayer. And now you were going to marry him. You were totally screwed.

You are unable to sit still in your seat, constantly rocking back and forth or tapping you hand and feet as you wait for him. He has no clue you’re sure. and your hopeful your grandsire will tell no one definitely not Alicent or most certainly not otto. You should have said something about it before you left but there is no point on dwelling on it now. as you try to relax in your seat.

“You are truly waiting for me.” You sit up out of your seat and turn to him in alarm. He had changed into more a more formal dark green outfit.

“of course uncle, i was truthful when i said i would wait for you.” You can’t read him. He does not speak for a moment, keeping his gaze stuck onto you, looking you up and down. You feel like he is analyzing you, trying to catch even the most minor slip up from you. Like he can tell you are trying to trick him. You can’t have him thinking like that, so you eagerly walk to his side and smile as sweetly as you can at him.

“I apologize if i interrupted your busy schedule uncle.” He smirks and shakes his head, offering you his arm, “Do your brothers know you are here?”

You shake your head and look at the ground. You do not get to see the pleased look that finds its way one his face until he grabs your chin and lifts your head up to look at him, taking a step closer. You feel your chest tighten. You do not understand why you feel this way, why his stare and the simply tilt of his head as your breath quickening. “How curious.”

He drops your chin quickly and acts as if nothing had just happened, offering you his arm. “You said you wished to see the gardens yes? They have grown rather nicely in your absence.” You hesitate for a moment as he raises his eyebrows with a smirk at your hesitance. You certainly cannot faulter now. you cant let him catch on to you, you can tell he has his suspicions.

You eagerly grab onto his arm and take a deep breath, accidently allowing yourself to be consumed by his addicting scent. You cannot stop the delighted hum that escapes you and your gasp covering your mouth. You are humiliated. You turn your head towards him and notice a different look on his face as he stares at you. He says nothing, simply letting out a hum before speaking, turning his head away from you. “We should head out now, the garden is lovely in the afternoon.”

You are glad he says nothing and simply nod and he begins to lead you out of the library and towards the courtyard. You attempt to ignore the stares and whispers of the maids and other ladies in the hallway as the two of you walk. You’re sure word will spread of the two of you walking arm and arm together, you are already dreading the talking to you’ll probably get from your brothers, your mother and especially daemon.

You cannot think about that now. Not as you finally arrive in the garden and simply begin to stroll through the large hedges of grass.

“I wish to know how you’ve been fairing uncle,” You stop for a moment pressing your free hand against his elbow in your laced arm, “I am embarrassed to say.” You bashfully look away, as if you do not wish to say it.

You are shocked you are able to act so well. Or at least you hope you are. You have to get him to believe you, you hope he is at least slightly convincing by your performance.

Your hopes are somewhat confirmed when his arm grips onto tight and looks your way, “You should talk freely with me my sweet niece.”

You blush at his words, unable to control the heat that flows up to your face. You are only happy he seems to be convinced, yes that is it.

“I have missed you.”

He turns you to face him and your breath stops. You two are chest to chest and he’s staring at you with dark eyes. You can feel his breath fanning on your face as you try to ignore the pounding of your heart at your proximity.

“You should not say such things to just anyone my sweet. Some men will not be as kind as i am after you say such things.”

my sweet.

You attempt to pull out of his arms but he keeps you there firmly. Staring you down as if he was a predator looking at his prey, you can’t help but whine quietly and you hear him hum, his grip tightens on you before he lets go. Taking a step back and coughing into his fist.

“I apologize, i lost myself.”

You can’t do anything but nod. Breathing heavily as if its the first time you can breath in years. You grip onto the spot where your heart is and grip the fabric tightly as your heart beats louder than it ever has. He looks at as stoic as he always does while you must look like a disheveled lady who just got caught in a scandal.

You basically were, feeling so caught by aemond who simply stares at you, his eye never leaving your face as he watches your every movement.

He opens his mouth to say something before a scared maid comes approaching you two, “my prince-” “What is it.” He spits at her, his face leaving yours angrily as he stares at the girl. The poor girl is practically shaking, she bows, “I am so sorry my prince but, the queen has requested your presence.”

His face drops as he straightens up at the mention of his mother. You suddenly notice the eyes you feel staring at you. It gives you a chill which runs down your spine, you look around the gardens for anything and notice nobody other than the maid and of course aemond. Then where are those eyes coming from?

“Of course, tell her i shall be there shortly.” “she requested i walk you to her immediately my prince.” You suddenly turn around and look upwards and you see two pairs of eyes staring right at you. Otto and alicent. How long had they been watching you? Had they seen what just happened between you and aemond? Not that anything had happened. No definitely not. Just two people talking.

“Of course.” You turn back to aemond and give him a nervous smile. He notices the look on your face and tilts his head as he looks at where you had just been looking. He tsks and turns his head away, you swear you see him roll his eye as he huffs. He looks back to you and grabs your hands, you try to pull them out of his grasp, your head flicking behind you, worrying they will see but he keeps you tightly in his grip.

“I am sorry to leave you, i shall see you dear niece.” He pulls your hands to his face and leaves a kiss on the backs of your hands before he drops them and walks off, not even waiting for the maid to follow after him. The maid quickly bows to you before hurriedly running off after aemond. You look back up and notice that the two of them are gone, you let out a sigh of relief praying they had left before they saw any of that.

Maybe you should be hoping they had. Then your act would be more believable. You never thought this would turn out like this. Maybe he just believed you far too much and was no acting on it. You wish you felt a sickness in your stomach, you want to hate him. He killed lucerys. You should hate him, you have hated him these last couple months. Nothing has changed, you do hate him. Do you?

You stand in the garden for a while your mind running a mile a minute. Are you getting so into your act that you're truly starting to believe it?

No. Enough of these foolish thoughts. You hastily move out of the garden, you should just head back to your room and sleep. Its late afternoon, you fake fatigue from your travels to avoid talking to your parents and brothers and lay down on your bed after a quick bath.

You stare up at the ceiling as the thoughts from today come spinning back up. Will this really work? Will this even be able to prevent anything? or are you just doing this for your own selfish gain? No. This absolutely had to work. You could not bare to go through what you had months ago, you still do not even know if anything is even real.

You try not to let your mind spiral and descended into madness as the sky turns from light to dark, skipping dinner. it’s not good to think about answers you will not receive until you see it for yourself. You should just try to sleep, but the way you are tossing and turning your eyes not even fluttering closed you fear you will not sleep a wink tonight.

Suddenly you hear soft knocks laid on your wooden door and you shoot up. For a second you think it may be aemond, you knew of aegons more horrendous personality maybe aemond is of the same mind and wishes to claim something from you? No, aemond is certainly not as depraved as him, you had known he took a mistress during the war, that witch, but if the rumors were true she was the only woman he laid with.

You open the door and let out a sigh. “lucerys.” You do not know if what you feel is relief or disappointment. Why would you feel disappointment? You watch as your brother attempts to smile at you before he looks meekly at the ground. “Can i, can i sleep with you sister? i cannot sleep.” Your heart aches at the sight of him, he had not come to you last time, had he felt the same way and could not sleep but felt like he couldn't come to you? was your over display of affection for him today the thing that gave him the confidence?

“of course you can.” You open your door wide enough and allow him to pass by you where he hurriedly scurried in and flops himself onto your bed. You smile at him as you walk over and lay down beside him. He smiles softly at you and lets out a quiet thank you as you begin to stroke his hair. “Are you alright?”

His face drops and he takes a deep breath, “i am scared. Why do they question us so? I wish we looked more like ser laenor and less like ser harwin then they would not question us, then we would be able to stay at dragonstone together, instead of being here.” Your heart begins to ache, you continue to stroke his hair.

You know of his doubts, his worries, and you wish you could do more to sate is worries. You know the trial will go fine tomorrow, knowing viserys will come to defend his heir, but he has no clue of that. Nor should you but you do.

“Everything will work out luce i promise. Leave it to mother to worry about.” “But i do not wish for her to worry. I wish i could do more for her. Maybe i should not be named heir to driftmark.” You sit up causing him to look at you alarmed. “Lucerys velaryon do not say such things. You are a wonderful boy who shall grow up to be the most honorable man, you should not speak down on yourself.” You cross your arms as your heart tries to be ripped from your chest as you remember. If you do not succeed he will probably be killed, by the man you are trying to court.

This whole thing was ridiculous.

He seems content with what you said and simply smiles at you, his eyes droopy with sleep. “Thank you sister.” You continue to comb his hair with your fingers as he’s lulled to sleep. You press a kiss against his forehead and allow him to press himself into your side.

You can’t allow anything to happen to him. You cannot allow yourself to be swayed by aemond’s charisma. He killed your brother. He was heartless and ruthless, a kinslayer. You cannot be swayed. he does not make your heart thump and have your breath racing.

You almost allow yourself to fall asleep before heavy banging on your door jolts you and lucerys up. You two look at each before looking back the door. “Who could be here this late?” No. He was not here was he? Another set of banging hits the door and you gulp.

There was no way right? You freeze as your hand hits the handle. What would you say if it was him? What would you tell lucerys? What would he do if aemond do if he saw lucerys? What would lucerys do if he saw aemond? you know the two will meet eventually, which did not go well at all, so what if its truly him?

You grab the handle and pull it. Letting out a huge sigh of relief as he storms past you. “You were not at dinner.”

He turns to you his arms crossed, your brother crosses his arms at you in the middle of the room. Baela and rhaena follow into the room, closing the door behind them. “I have been tired all day brother, i wished to rest.”

“You were not tired when you were walking around in aemonds arm rather cozy.” you ignore him, greeting you sister baela and smiles and gives you a warm hug before stepping and crossing her arms at you too. “Not you too.”

“What could you possibly have been doing with aemond?” You sigh and walk back to the bed, sitting on the edge. “I do not know what you wish me to say.” “I wish for you to explain to me why you were with him.”

You sigh and throw your hands up. “I simply wished to see him.” “You wished to see him? are you mad?” “Is that so wrong?” “Yes!”

You flop down on your bed and sigh. You feel the bed bend down next to you and see you jacaerys face staring at you. “you are acting strange sister, i simply am worrying for you.”

“it is so wrong i wish to bond with my other family members.” “They are not like us you know that sister.” You sit up and stare at them. You wish you didn't have to do things like this. You wish you did not have to do this. You wish you did not have to see the look of hurt on rhaena’s face or baela’s glare, or jacaerys anger or even lucerys confusion.

But you cannot give up now. Standing up to glare at the four of them and cross your arms. Your voice tight with anger. “I do not excuse what happened between you all on driftmark if anything i hate him for it. but you will not understand, i simply wish to spend some time with my other family. We should all want to mend what has been broken, bury old hatched and build, if not a loving family relationship, then atleast a civil one. I am sorry that i am the first person to realize that it is no good it would do no good for blood to be bad between is, not for us, not for rhaenyra. or her claim. We as family must have each other's back. and if we are not at least civil with these people they will never support us.”

The four of them are silent and you let out a huff as you fall onto your bed and close your eyes. “If you wish to hover and argue with me you may but you will be arguing with a wall. I know i am right and i will be sleeping. You are free to talk amongst yourselves.”

You roll over and keep your back to them. You feel lucerys get off the bed and you assume the four of them have huddled in a corner, whispering to each other. They would not understand. What you are doing for them. They would not even believe you if you tried. Though you hope your story is believe able enough.

You try to sleep. Though you are unable to knowing they are lingering not too far away from you. You feel movement around you and the door opens, footsteps trailing out before it softly closes. A part of you fears you might have scared lucerys off. but when the bed dips next to you you feel relief. “Can i still sleep here sister?” You turn around and look at his nervous gaze and nod, grabbing his cheek and smiling at him. “of course you can stay.” He smiles and lays down at your side, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

You don’t fall asleep for a while. Simply staring up at the ceiling and feeling lucerys shuffle around in your arms every once in a while. You pray and pray that tomorrow afternoon will go exactly as it had the first time. And for the dinner. You would have to get a lot more creative to try and figure out how to prevent that.

It is now morning and you had been planning on walking to jacaerys room after breakfast before you are suddenly stopped. “Good morning.”

“Good morning my queen.” You bow and attempt to bite your tongue as she gives you what you know now to be a clearly fake smile. “How have you been faring? it has been a long time since we’ve spoken.” “I have been well, as all my family has been, my queen.” She nods and folds her hands behind her back. “I wish for you to walk with me for a few moments.”

It is not a request. She is telling you. So you nod and she walks, not even looking to see if you are following though you are. You know what she wishes to ask. Though you pray your grandsire has not mentioned the proposal to her and she simply wishes to ask what you had been doing with aemond. Not that you would have an explanation for that either.

“I have just been wondering something. if you would clear my head.” The sound of metal clanging behind you would startle you if you did not know criston trailed behind alicent like a damn dog. He should make it less obvious that he is glaring at the back of your head.

Please do not ask about the proposal please do not ask about the proposal,

“I had seen you with aemond in the gardens yesterday, thats curious is it not?” You try to hide the shaky breath of relief you let out. You simply hum , “it is not so curious. We are family after all.”

You act like you do not near the mumbling of ser cole behind you. Something suddenly click to you, he was probably the one who told alicent of your outing with aemond and you grow irritated.

Alicent merely huns though you know there is more she wishes to say. You are silent as she attempt to gather her words properly. You do not even glance at either of them, keeping your gaze forward. Its odd, despite the fact you should be more stressed out talking with the queen you feel more at ease then you were with aemond.

“I suppose you’re right. Its simply been a long time since you’ve been in the keep.” “Exactly the more reason i would wish to spend the afternoon with him. It is rather a shame our time was cut short.”

You don’t get to see the way her eye twitches and the way criston rolls his eyes but you can assume so. “Yes. I am sorry i had to pull him away for somethings..” You can hear how her words are not sincere but you decide maybe you can make her feel bad.

You turn to her with mock shame in your face, “Oh gods i had no clue it was you who pulled him away, i am so sorry i would not have complained if i had known it was you.” She turns to you and has a look of embarrassment on her face, “It is no issue truly, do not fret.”

You smile at her and she gives you a weak clearly forced one back before you turn back forward. It’s fun messing with them.

“My queen.” She quickly turns around where a guard was standing, “Your presence is required in the council room your grace.” She nods before she turns back to you.

“Good day princess.” “Good day my queen.” She scruries off without another glance but ser cole spares you a glare before he trails after her. You sigh and roll your neck out before walking back to your own room, no longer having any interest in speaking to anyone. It would probably be best to have some alone time before the trial anyways.

The trial goes exactly as expected thankfully. Viserys walks up exactly as before, rhaenys says jacaerys and baela and rhaena and lucerys will marry, daemon cuts off vaemonds head. All the exactly the same. It gives you erriry feeling, now you are so sure you have been transported in the past. You keep lucerys hand tightly in yours during the trial though you knew how it would go, allowing him to lean against you in relief afterwards.

The only difference is you can’t help but find yourself glancing at aemond throughout it all. His eyes drift to you as well numerous times, a small smirk finds itself on his face every time you lock eyes. You look away bashfully every time but you always find yourself looking back to him.

You quickly rush out the room after everyone had been dismissed, hoping to avoid everyone. You find yourself in the garden once more, finding a secluded bench and sitting down. Leaning your head back and letting the sun hit your face.

You allow yourself to relax, listening to the sound of the wind and the bugs, breathing in the scent of flowers and grass, enjoying the way the sun and the wind hits you. You don’t know how long you’re lying there. Not until you finally decide to open your eyes and stretch.

You turn to your left and let out a shriek. “Aemond!” He has an amused look on his face as you cover your racing heart with your hands. “I did not mean to startle you my sweet.”

You turn away from him and readjust yourself to be sitting upright, keeping your gaze forward. You merely hum in acknowledgment, not trusting yourself to speak. The nickname. Maybe it has just slipped his mind to add niece at the end of it.

“I merely wanted to see you” You look to him and see the amused look on his face. You still cannot tell if he’s genuine or not, he keeps his emotions completely in check, only allowing you to see what he wishes you to.

You smile, putting on a sweet face as you bravely scoot towards him. “I an happy to hear that uncle.” He hums, continuing to watch you. You squirm under his gaze and cough into your hand due to nerves.

Why do you seem to be enjoying yourself? Why do you like his eyes on you? You hate him. He killed your brother for gods sake. He didn't in this timeline you suppose. No. Why are you trying to rationalize this with yourself? You had just sworn you would not be pulled in by him.

Yet when he leans forward and gazes into your eyes you find your mind turning into putty. “What have you been up to these past few years my sweet? i fear we did not get to talking much today during our time together due to,,,”

He trails off, looking away almost bashfully as if he is embarrassed about what had happened. You’re sure he probably is, you would be if you were him. Not that what he did was wrong, no it was wrong, very wrong of him to grab you like that and have you so close to him. To say such a romantic statement to you and you two are not even courting. Thought you two wouldn't be entering a courtship anyways, well would your engagement count as a courtship?

“I have not been up to much. I’ve been doing some studying, some reading, lady things.” He nods at your answer but he looks displeased like thats not what he wished to hear. “How have you been uncl-” “Are you betrothed?” You look at him alarmed and try to catch you breath as he leans in closer to you. “I will apologize for being forward later but i must know.”

“Why?” You breathe out with a hushed breath, as you notice his eye drifts to your lips. “You must know. You must know already why i wish to know, why i must know.” No. You don’t know. You certainly don’t wish to. You shake your head and let out a meek no while he nods and gets closer. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a chill runs down your spine as his lips brush against yours and you shiver.

“My prince.” He lets out sound close to animalistic as he whips his head to the left to glare at the squire while you pull all the way back and turn your head out of view, scooting farther away from him.

“Your mother is looking for you-” “Tell her i am busy.” He barks out. Thought you are not looking at him he can tell’s clenching his jaw and glaring. “She requests you now-” “You should go uncle-” “I am never allotted a moment of alone time and the one time i am she demands me? Tell her i am busy at once.”

The squire looks back and forth between you two and you say nothing, simply flushed with embarrassment. This was humiliating. Were you truly about to kiss him? and you were happy you were about to kiss him? You could not believe this. He nods simply, eyeing the two of you for a moment longer before nodding and rushing away.

You breathe heavily as you stare at your lap, your heart racing. What was happening to you? You begin to speak as you turn to look at him, “If your mother needs you maybe you should go- hmm!” he kisses you with a sense of fever you have never experienced. Sucking up every little sound and breath you take, one of his hands finds its place on your jaw.

When you open your mouth a little to gasp he eagerly shoves his tongue in your mouth, pocking and prodding, eagerly dominating you, leaning his body over you to where he is basically covering you completely, leaving you to lean back against the corner of the arm rail.

You grip onto his forearms, unsure of what you are doing. After what feels like an eternity he pulls away from you, eagerly rubbing his nose against your face affectionately, a small true smile falls on his face at your dazed look, his thumb affectionately rubbing the side of your cheek.

“Ao issi sīr gevie issa dōna.” (you are so beautiful my sweet) You flush. You hate him and the way he makes you feel. How dare he. You are supposed to despise him, make him pay for everything he’s done to you, to your family. But this Aemond hasn't done anything. This Aemond who’s gazing into your eyes like you are the stars in the sky, like you are the center of the universe. Maybe if this all works out and there can be no bloodshed there will be no reason to hate him truly.

Suddenly his hand lightly trails down your sides and to the sides of your thighs where he finds himself rubbing circles on your thighs. It is a silent exchange. The eye contact you share being more than enough. Your breath continuous to race as he keeps his eyes on you. one of his hands trailing down your legs and under your dress. Your breath speeds up and your heart quicken, is it even possible for a heart to be beating this fast? Would your heart burst from your chest?

He is a terrible man. An awful one. For being so unaffected while you are panting at a single touch. His hand lays on your thigh as he continues to gaze at you, he stops and you gulp, opening your mouth but unable to speak. He has stripped you of your ability to do anything. You look at him confused why he is not doing anything and then you realize something.

He is waiting for you.

For your queue. for your permission.

You have only heard and read about the affairs between men and women, you have never experienced something like this, he had even taken your first kiss. If you did this it would all be getting too real. Were you truly going to sully yourself like this? It would not technically be sullying yourself as he is to be your husband, no other man is meant to touch you anyway. No man is good to touch you other than him. You don’t want another man to touch you. Only him.

He is surprisingly patient. Not moving his hand an inch. continuing to gaze at you with that same dreamy look. You still cannot get a good read on him, is he truly trying to do this because he holds affection for you or is he merely attempting to manipulate you? had his mother told him to persuade you to get you to submit to him?

You nod to him.

It doesn't matter to you. You want him. Terribly to the point your heart begins to ache and your stomach twists and turns.

He finally begins to move his hand where you are soaked. He merely brushes his fingers against you and you move to grip his forearm tightly staring at him with wide eyes. He continues to simply gaze at you, unable to take your hands off you as he slips past your underwear and shoves a finger inside of you.

You gasp. One of your hands moving to grip his shoulder and pull him closer to you as he lightly begins to wriggle it around, feeling the inside of your walls. You are glad you are in a far away part of the garden for if anyone were to hear you, you would surely be ruined. Yet you couldn't find yourself to care as he pressed his lips against yours in a messy, open mouthed kiss as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. You are surely hurting him with how hard you are griping onto his shoulder, put his spare hand slides up your dress to begin squeezing your breasts as you gasp loudly against his lips. His lips leave yours occasionally, instead pressing against your cheeks and around your lips.

His finger quickens in pace where he slips in yet another finger giving you a delicious burn in your stomach. He stretches you out, his hands scissoring against you, his fingers pressing against your tightly walls which grip against his fingers harshly. He can move his fingers freely however, as you are completely drenched, allowing him to easily move within you.

You cannot tell how he is feeling, his eye simply closed as he presses kisses against your face but his face seems as stoic as ever. Though you cannot dwell on it again as he adds a third finger. You did not even know women could take more than one but three? This has your jaw clenching and your eyes shut tightly. He still says nothing and you in return. The only sounds coming are from your moans and gasps. You press your face against the side of his, putting your lips right up against your ear as he continues to pump in and out, you are now able to hear the squelching sound coming out of you leaving you to whine. You should be humiliated.

You continue to whine and moan and groan in his ear. Pressing yourself against him tightly, the burning of your stomach roaring louder and louder. You have no clue what is happening to you, not having heard about this unusual feeling before. You want to question him but you cannot find yourself to break this silence between you.

“Brother!” The two of you freeze. Your eyes shoot open and glance at him who looks at you with the same look, glancing over his shoulder at the direction of the voice. “Brother! Where are you? I know you're here!” He groans and mumbles to himself. His face annoyed as he continue to gaze at him. He slowly slides his fingers out of him and you whine at the now empty feeling, that burning in your stomach dying down.

You watch as he stands. You are unable to move only looking at him in confusion. What was happening? “I will make it up to you.”

He leaves. Turning his back to you and does not spare a single glance as he completely leaves your view. You are left clutching the bench and breathing heavily, the daze not having left you.

What the fuck.

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #house of the dragon #aemond smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemondtargaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #prince aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader

[veganineden]

On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”

A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2

One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?

In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are. 

So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”? 

My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.” 

If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression. 

Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity. 

Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity. 

You know who does?

Aziraphale. 

And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.) 

In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.

I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation. 

Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”

So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.” 

And most likely a cottage. 

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

 - Maya Angelou

Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.  

#good omens 2 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #ineffable advocacy #ineffable partners #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #gos2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #nothing lasts forever #liked by Neil Gaiman

[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds

[cheriladycl01]

It All Happened so Fast - Grid x Ferrari Reader

Plot: Y/N has someone enter her hotel room after the grand prix and threaten to rob her, after not answering her phone, some of the drivers come to her rescue. Done in the style of a podcast/interview.

Warning: This had dark themes, of abuse, kidnapping (kind of?), SA etc

Credit to makeagif for the GIF :)

"And tonight we have Y/N with us on the podcast! And we'll be learning the truth about what happened at French Grand Prix, now that she's finally ready to speak up about what happened!" he says as you walk out, your hands were clammy from the build up of sweat on them and the lights all felt a little too bright.

"Hello, Zach how are you?" you smile to the podcaster, taking a seat in the purple studio on scotting so you were next to the cushion.

"I'm good, I'm good and how are you doing, despite everything that happened?" he asks looking over you, making sure you were okay.

"Yeah, you know I took a blow and speak to a therapist about everything but ultimately I'm back in the car and doing what I love most!" you nod, explaining how you'd not gone to the next race after the incident because of a bruised rib.

"So talk us through that day, start to finish!" he smiles and you nod, feeling safe and comforted to talk in his presence.

"It was a pretty normal day, it was just after qualifying had finished and I was celebrating with Charlie" you smile. You remembered getting your first pole position with Ferrari that year having taken over from Carlos who had made the move to Audi.

You were so happy, jumping in the arms of the crew and Fred who'd become like a father to you before finding comfort in Charles, who wasn't Charles to you but Charlie. He was your big brother around the paddock, most of them were.

"Congrats gorgeous!" he grins hugging you tightly. Alex, his girlfriend came running over, pulling you away from Charles into a big hug of her own. Alex had become like your big sister and you'd kind of become attached to her in your time in the paddock. She'd let you borrow her clothes, which Charlie didn't like as he thought they were way too mature for a young girl like you, which you'd argued against many times. You got ready with Alex in your rooms, and even travel together in the off seasons. And don't even get started on the Leclerc family who had practically adopted you after becoming Charles partner.

"Thank you Charlie! We had a great drive today! A front row lock out for us!" you cheese excitedly looking around the paddock, locking your eyes on anyone else who you could exclaim your happiness too.

"I think Lando is over there!" he smiles pointing out your paddock crush. You'd had a crush on Lando ever since he came to see you race in F2, when you started to get noticed by the likes of Ferrari and other F1 teams.

You rush over, seeing him talking to Jon and Oscar who was with his girlfriend Lily.

"Hey guys!" you grin at the two boys, and they both smile back to you, Oscar and Lily pulling you into a joint hug first and then letting go of you so Lando could kiss your cheek and pull you into a hug.

"You did amazing today!" he smirks one corner of his mouth raising and a blush coming onto your face.

You sat in the studio thinking of how Lando had made your heart flutter like crazy!

"I think after we all were celebrating qualifying with my team and everyone else we were all leaving, discussing the plans for that night" you admitted thinking back to what happened in the build up.

"Yeah, we have pictures of you here celebrating with your team-mate Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra, Lewis and a few others" he says flicking all of the pictures he had saved of you in the paddock celebrating your qualifying result.

"So, if i've got the story right? You were invited to dinner with some of your friends correct?" he asked.

"There was talk of all of us going out that night, it was my first pole position and everyone was very proud of me and they wanted to celebrate it. Obviously, for this specific race there aren't many hotels in the area so majority of the drivers stay at the same hotel close to the track for ease. So in my hotel there was Charles, me, Daniel Ricciardo, Max Vertsappen, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Alex Albon, Liam Lawson, Yuki Tsunoda and Pierre Gasly and that was supposed to be the group that went out!" you offer and he looks over you.

"Supposed to be?" he asks, looking at his notepad and you nod.

"So, Alex chose the place we were going and it was sort of a bar, sort of joint... when Lando and a few others looked at the menu they didn't fancy it so Max, Daniel, Charles, Carlos, Lando and Oscar all decided to pick their own place. I didn't want the plans to change so i stayed with Alex, Lewis, George, Liam, Yuki and Pierre. By the time we got to the bar there was security out and because I was the only one under the drinking age in the states I was refused" you laugh thinking it was sort of funny.

"Wait so they said you weren't allowed into the bar because of the drinking age?" he repeats making sure he had all the information correct.

Thinking back, the whole interaction was kind of funny.

"Yeah sorry, your underage you cant go in" the security guard says handing you back your ID.

"What?" you chuckle, the security knew who you were, i mean come on you were stood in front of Lewis Hamilton.

"Sorry, bar rules" he says with a frown before nodding for Lewis to go in.

"Mate come on, look none of us are here to drink... we're all driving tomorrow and we just want to take our girl out for a celebratory meal" Lewis smiles ruffling your hair making you giggle.

"Sorry man, no is a no. Even for you" he sighs, getting bored of the groups antics and how they are holding up the line.

"No come on I'm not having this, the whole reason we are here is because of her. We arent going in if she isn't allowed!" Lewis argues before George and Liam join in.

"Alright, either you can go in without her or we're all kicking you out right now" the head of security says coming out making you sigh and grab onto Lewis' arm.

"I'm just going to go, I hope you guys have fun but I don't want you guys to not go out for food because of me!" you sigh stepping to one side.

"No Y/N! The whole reason we are out tonight is because of you!" Lewis whines a little wanting everything to be perfect.

"Well half the group already bailed and went somewhere else so it's no issue!" you giggle.

"But where will you eat!" George asks.

"Look, I'll be bad and treat myself to a Maccies, but you cant tell anyone. Especially not Joris or Maggie, they'll have my head!" you say and after a lot more convincing you were let go.

Looking back you had no idea leaving by yourself was probably the worst decision you ever made.

"So you walked back to the hotel alone, that correct?"

"Well, i got myself a McDonalds first which was hilarious because there was so many fans that spotted me in there and I think that was the start of where everything went wrong. People quickly realized where I was and that I was alone with no security or team. I took a few pictures but left for the hotel very quickly" you explain softly, loving the interactions you got with your fans that night.

"And once you were in the hotel, what were you doing?" he prompted.

"Well, I got in immediately and I actually had someone from the hotel walk up with me, I'd felt strange the whole way home and just wanted someone to make sure i got up there okay"

"And by feeling strange, like you were drunk and been spiked?" he asks with his head cocking to his side.

"Mmm no just that I didn't feel alone, even though i was. I felt like my steps were being followed but I couldn't see anything. It was dark and I thought it must just be the paranoia, but the hotel staff were so helpful and took me to my room. The two members of staff actually looked around my whole room before leaving me alone!" you say, knowing the hotel did everything in their action to make sure you were safe.

"So you got in and you ate your food I'm presuming, what did you have?" he chuckles, everyone knew how much you loved a McDonalds.

"A wrap and a cheeseburger, I know bad but I was solo celebrating!" you chuckle.

"That sounds so good right now!" he luaghs before silencing to let you continue with your story.

"After that it was getting late and I wanted to be as prepared as possible for the next day so I got into the shower, where I didn't hear the door unlatch. I just remember rinsing the shampoo out my eyes and seeing him standing there watching me!" you gulp nervously getting onto the scary bit of the story.

"He was in the bathroom already, at this point?" he asks his eyes wide.

It was scary, you'd just finished really scrubbing the sweat and helmet grease out of you hair, you rubbed your eyes making sure they wasn't anything that was going to sting them in their before opening them.

It took you by so much shock to see the black silhouette in the bathroom, you grabbed the towel hoping it was Charles or Lando, at least someone you knew. But it was him, the man that kept you in fear of hotels.

"What the fuck!" you cried wrapping the towel around you, you couldn't see his face right now, his face was covered by the steam of the shower and his black and red Ferrari cap.

He was a fan, which made you want to cry more.

"Your gonna be quiet, yes beautiful?" he asks showing you the gun on his waist band.

You nodded not wanting to aggravate him.

Before you knew it he grabbed you out the shower by your arm. Forcing you onto the sofa in your room, at this point you'd started to cry. He hit you so hard, you bruised a rib and sprained your wrist.

"I cant imagine the panic you felt" Zach sighed comfortingly as you nodded.

"Yeah, i mean there was moments where i thought, this is it, I'm not going to come out of this alive" you sighed before continuing your accounts.

He asked you the code for the safe, which you told his straight away, he started going through all of your stuff, you didn't care about the loose cash or anything else but when he pulled out the expensive Cartier necklace Lando got you for your birthday you started to sob harder.

"Please, not that!" you cry out loudly making his head flick over to you, rage on his face.

"Mmmm from your boy Lando right?" he grins evilly and you cry more.

"GET ON THE BED!" he screamed at you and you looked at him in shock.

"What?" you asked.

"Are you stupid? I said to get on the fucking bed!" he screamed out again making you whimper and cry more from the shock as you got up onto the bed, sitting on the edge.

"Fuck, I'm not even sure I want to know where this goes!" Zach sighs after taking a sip of his drink. You explain how he had started to touch you, and you were practically naked on the bed.

"I was just going to suck it up, the gun was the scariest thing and I couldn't help but think that Charles would probably be the one to come in and find me..." you admitted, knowing it was one of the scariest moments.

"It was one of those moments where you know they talk about fight flight or freeze, ask anyone and they'll tell you I fight, no matter what but I just froze because of the circumstances..." you attempt to say without messing up.

"And before stuff got to bad?" he asks.

"I had my boys to rely on" you smile softly.

Charles had the spare room key to his room, and when he, Lando Max and Daniel were coming back and heard yelling through the door, they needed to see if you were okay!

"Y/N!" you heard Charles through the door, the guy currently fondling you looked up in shock. Charles and the rest of them rushed into the room. Max was the first to throw a punch at the guy, pretty much getting him onto the floor. Charles started to cover you up while Daniel called hotel security and Lando called the police. Charles was holding onto you as you shook, sobbing and gasping for short little breaths.

"Hey hey it's okay!" Lando says seeing you and your panicked state.

"Let's get him outta here!" Daniel says kicking his shin.

"Necklace!" you gasp out, looking over Lando's eyes and he cocks his head to one side in confusion before understanding what you meant.

Lando jumped off the bed, searching the guy's pockets until he pulled your necklace out.

"Scumbag!" he'd told him as Max and Daniel hauled the guy out of your room.

Lando came back, holding you on the other side of Charles forcing you into a sort of sandwich.

"So what happened with the rest of the night?" Zach asked pulling your mind back into the studio room.

"There was a lot of crying, lot of police. I only told the police about my injuries so they could take pictures for the report. And i somehow drove the next day, still came in P1 and stood on that podium until I fainted. I was of course pulled from the next race because i'd worsened my injuries by driving... but it was worth it for the win!"

"Woah, that truly is an incredible story!" Zach smiles, pulling you into a hug which you gladly accept.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #carlos sainz #lando norris imagine #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo f1 #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz 55 #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #oscar piastri

[imbored1201]

hiii!

could you write something where teen r lives w ona and is always attatched to her but then lucy moves in with her and now r is upset bc she has to actually use her own bed and ona ends up buying a new bed or something.

:)

Ona’s Follower

Lucy x Ona x Teen Reader

Word Count: 2k

Yours and Ona's bond ran deep; the two of you had played in Manchester together. You were just 15 when you started playing with her; it was your first season coming from the academy, and she convinced you to move to Barcelona with her.

She always took care of you, and you practically followed her everywhere. She enjoyed the company though, teaching you everything, like how to cook her favorite Spanish dishes and even trying to teach you Spanish.

You feel the moment you really got attached to Ona was when she comforted you because of your frequent nightmares.

The two of you ended up being roommates when staying at a hotel with the United girls. 

You had hoped you wouldn't get a nightmare. That didn't go your way, considering you had one. 

You were woken up by Ona, who held you that night, and the next night, you had another one. 

Back at the apartment, you continued to sleep in Ona's bed. You realized sleeping with Ona helped you a lot since you stopped having nightmares, and it turns out Ona hated being alone in a bed to the point she had a lot of stuffed animals on her bed while she slept so she didn't feel alone. 

It was a huge win for both of you. 

————

You noticed something was going on between Ona and Lucy. Lucy was coming over every day now. You would always find them cuddling on the couch, and she would even pick you guys up to take you to training and games. 

You liked Lucy; she was funny and always brought you candy, and you always destroyed her in FIFA, so it was fun. 

————

Then the next step happened. Lucy moved in. You were panicking, to you, that meant you and Ona couldn't sleep in the same bed anymore. That made you disappointed, even sadder, watching Lucy unpack all her things. The good thing about it was that you were able to see Nala every day now. 

"Want to help me build this?" She was referring to a new dresser she had gotten. "Sorry, Luce, I need to go riding around." Lucy grinned, happy you were actually using the bike she had given you.

Ona was always complaining that you spent too much time in your room, so Lucy got you a bike, hoping it would motivate you to get out and go around the city.

That bike ride took a little bit longer than you intended. You did get caught up in your own head because, by the time you knew it, it was nighttime. Way past your cerfew. 

————

"Ona, calm down; she's fine; she probably just got caught up." Ona's eyes widened. "What if she got caught up doing something she isn't supposed to?" Lucy sighed, regretting her word choice. 

"Ona, she's a good kid; she knows not to do anything bad. She'll be back soon; you're tired; come on." Lucy led her to bed. Ona continued to stare down at her phone, waiting for any little text from you. 

She spent a couple of minutes lying down in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "She has a key, Ona. Come on, you have to let the kid do her own thing at times. She'll be back soon; if it makes you feel better, I'll stay up and wait for her." Ona sighed and nodded. 

By the time you got home, Lucy had already fallen asleep. She did wait an hour though; she was worried too, but once she finally received a 'I'm okay' text from you, that worry went away, and she fell asleep spooning Ona.

Once you finished your routine, you went to Ona's room. It was just a habit of yours at that point, and when you saw her and Lucy sleeping cuddled up in bed, something burned up inside you. Jealously and sadness. Tears started to build up in your eyes

You know it was probably childish, but it was just something you were used to. Ona had been your anchor; every time something went wrong, you went running to her. With Lucy there now, you felt like you couldn't do that anymore. 

You gently closed the door and walked to your room. It was weird sleeping in your own bed for once. You hadn't done that in forever; you grabbed one of Ona's hoodies that you stole and laid down, using it as a pillow. You hoped you wouldn't have a nightmare and fell asleep. 

————

Lucy was the first to wake that morning; she hated to admit it, but she completely forgot she didn't see you come the front door; she got lost in admiring Ona's beauty to remember. 

When Ona stirred, the first thing that came to her mind was you. She thought about last night and quickly sat up, not needing any time to fully wake up. 

Lucy noticed Ona's panicked expression when she looked at her. "What?" She asked, getting up. "Where's Y/N?!" She was panicky, walking out of the room to search for you.

Lucy quickly got up and followed her as Ona checked the living room and kitchen. Lucy checked your room, and there you were. Using Ona's sweater as a pillow and holding onto a stuffed teddy bear, Lucy won you at the fair. She even won Ona one, then bragged about being too good at everything. 

"Ona, she's in here," she quietly said, gently closing your door. Ona was about to barge into your room, but Lucy gently grabbed her. "She's sleeping." Ona sighed in relief and went back to the kitchen to make apology pancakes for you. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lucy put her hand on Ona's hips. "Fuck Lucy, we shouldn't have slept in the same bed. I'm sorry. Y/N, she always sleeps with me; the poor girl gets these bad nightmares, and they stopped when she started sleeping with me" 

Lucy looked understanding and thought for a little bit. "You know, we need to get a bigger bed anyway; it would be beneficial for everyone and maybe even encourage a little more action," she smirked. Ona raised her eyebrows. "Lucy, we are not talking about sex while there is a child in the bedroom."

"Of course not; that's why we send her to Mapi and Ingrid's. What I'm trying to say is, let's get a bigger bed so she can sleep with us."

Ona's face lit up, and she immediately grabbed her car keys. "I'm going to look at bigger beds," she told Lucy, and left. Lucy quickly took over, smirking to herself for being a genius. 

————

That whole day, you only came out to eat the pancakes and for dinner. Lucy took control and barged into your room. You ended up crushing her in FIFA again.

It was now 10 p.m., and you were thirsty, your eyes hurt from playing video games all day, and you had done nothing productive all day. Mostly trying to get used to the fact that your room was actually going to be your room for once. 

————

"What's wrong?" Ona asked noticing your frown, you jumped, almost dropping your water. You weren't expecting Ona and Lucy to still be up at this time watching their romantic movies. "Nothing, just thirsty."

"Come watch the movie with us." Lucy made room between her and Ona. You shook your head, "I'm going to bed." Lucy didn't give up, though; she got up and threw you over her shoulders. 

"Luce," you whined. She threw you on the couch, and Ona was quick to hug you, so you couldn't get up. You sighed, paying attention to the movie. 

You were exhausted by the end of the movie, the comfort of Ona being next to you made it harder to keep your eyes open. You let your head fall against Lucy's shoulder. 

"How about you two snuggle in tonight? I'll take the couch. Then we'll go get the thing tomorrow." Lucy winked at Ona at the last part. You were confused but too tired to argue. The bed was being delivered tomorrow morning; it was just up to Lucy to bring it in on her own and build it. 

Ona led you to her room, where you collapsed on her bed. “Did you have any nightmares last night?” She asked as she got in beside you. You shook your head, rolling into her body and cuddling into her chest. She wanted to apologize for making you sleep in your own bed that night, but you had already fallen asleep. 

————

Once again, you woke up to no Ona. You huffed and got up, stealing a sweater that you were pretty sure was Lucy’s. “Ona?” You called out. 

You heard the front door opening and someone grunting. Nala started barking at whatever it was, so you made your way to the noise, thinking it was Ona. You let out a sad sigh when you saw it was Lucy. You loved her, but all the woman made was eggs in the morning, and you wanted Ona’s special pancakes again.

"Where's Ona?" You asked Lucy, who was struggling to bring in a mattress. "Store," she spoke out of breath. 

"What are you doing?" You asked. It was pretty obvious, but your brain was way too confused right now, and you had to ask questions. She let out some deep breaths before speaking. "Putting in the new mattress"

"Can I help?" She shrugged. "Sure, pull it," you grunted as you did what you were told. Ona wasn’t actually sure if the mattress would fit through the door; she just hoped it would. "Finally,” Lucy said, when the mattress finally got past the door. 

You were Lucy’s helper, playing with the tools, giving her whatever she needed, completely forgetting about your hunger. She proudly patted your back when everything was finished. 

"This calls for ice cream." She put a hand on your shoulder and led you out. You looked at her confused, but just went along with it. "I haven’t had breakfast," she shrugged. "It's fine.”

————

"Kid, you know I'm not going to take Ona from you, right?" You paused from where you were eating your ice cream and nodded, but you weren't actually sure how you felt. 

"Ona adores you; trust me, in a house fire, she would save you over me." You smiled at that. “But it’s fair; I would save Nala before the both of you."

"You promise you'll take care of her?" She nodded before adding, "I'm going to take care of both of you, I promise." She put out her pinky finger, which you took with yours. 

"That's why we bought the new mattress; it's bigger so all three of us could fit on that bed," you had a confused look on your face again, "Won't you be uncomfortable?" Lucy shook her head and let out a little laugh.

“Of course not; at this point, you’re my stepkid, you’re my favorite stepkid, and Nala is my favorite kid." She smiled proudly at that, and you appreciated it in a way. "Thanks, Lucy; I guess I understand why Ona fell for you now." “I’m just charming, ain’t I?” "Nevermind"

————

You still didn’t believe Lucy was actually comfortable with you being there, which is why you got ready to sleep in your own bed again. Lucy broke into your room once again, a rare stern look on her face. 

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, her arms crossed. “I don’t want to disturb.” Lucy once again threw you over her shoulder and carried you to the bed. 

She set you down close to Ona who smiled at you. 

“Sleep bebita,” Ona spoke, spooning you. Lucy got into bed, leaving you squished in between them. Lucy got closer to you, making you push her away. “You have all that space over there."

“Shut up and let me cuddle you." You rolled your eyes and squirmed away from her, but she felt you relaxing after a couple of seconds. Your eyes were closing, and in a couple of seconds, you were out.

“Thank you for making an effort with her, Lucia.” Lucy nodded as she stroked your hair. 

“I’m just the stepdad that stepped up, ain’t I?” Lucy grinned, Ona rolled her eyes, holding you tighter. “Buenas noches Bronze”

#woso x reader #woso community #barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 2

What You Gonna Do?

Azriel x Reader

A short follow up to Rainy Season since you all have been so gracious with your responses - Initially I planned a time jump for part 2 but decided to give a taste of the aftermath of her leaving. Things will eventually look up for our girl, she’s just going through it right now. Stay tuned for more! I’ve decided to make this a short series.

Part 1 Part 3

Warnings: cheating, language

Azriel

Who wakes you when the morning comes?

Azriel awoke to rays filling the room with brightness. Shit - he’d overslept. Why hadn’t Y/N woken him? He looked over to find the bed cold, as if it had been vacant for hours.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he wandered to the kitchen, lacking its welcoming aroma of fresh coffee and the sweet and savory aromas of pastries and bacon. No, it was totally empty.

Where was she?

“Y/N?” He groggily called out into the house.

Silence.

Slipping on a pair of pajama pants he wandered to the door. The chill of the house whipping against his bare, muscled abdomen.

Perhaps she was basking in the sunlight on the patio. He always loved how she looked in the morning rays - a deity in her own right. He should probably tell her that sometime.

Padding to the front door, two things caught his attention.

One, his clothes were strewn over top of his bag and two, a note was scrawled in her messy handwriting.

No - not a note. A list of rhetorical questions.

“Who wakes you when the morning comes?

Who gives you all she has to give?

Who fulfills all her promises?

Who sees the good in you?

What are you gonna do when I’m gone?

Where you gonna go when there’s nobody home?

Who’s gonna love you when you’re all alone?”

He dropped his head. Fuck - things were good last night. What happened? As he bent back down to clear up the strewn undergarments, the strong, sweet scent of Elain wafting into his nostrils.

No - those questions were not rhetorical. They were a plea. “Who?” Who is that person to him?

Clutching his chest he realized just how terrible a mistake he’d made when he fucked Elain.

—————

Y/N

The warm rays of the Summer Court and the overwhelming weight of crushing heartbreak greeted me bright and early. A mockery to the pouring rain I’d traveled through last night, showing up at my grandmother’s door like a drowned rat.

Instead of chastising me for how long it had been since I’d paid her a visit, her brown eyes only met me with compassion. She knew me well and every ounce of pain on my face spoke the words that I couldn’t get out.

She pulled me into a bone crushing hug, ran a hot bath and steeped a pot of tea before laying in bed behind me and running her fingers through my hair until my heaving sobs turned to shuddering breaths and eventually a deep sleep.

It was a strange feeling. It had been too long since I’d seen her and yet, she showed me more love and compassion in a span of three hours than I had in the last three years.

Thank the gods the rays woke me early as I had to make it to the palace in Adriata immediately.

“Leaving me so soon?” Grandmother asked as I hurried out the door. “Sorry! I promise I’ll be back before lunch.”

I’d only met Tarquin a handful of times but sensed that he was a kind, benevolent ruler. Still, I expected to meet with his officials before being granted access to his office but when he’d heard who was here to see him, he immediately made time for me.

By the end of our meeting, he’d granted me renewed citizenship in the Summer Court and wrote to Rhysand effectively barring Azriel from his court. Careful to not create tensions in the court, he revoked the current ban on Cassian so long as he could keep himself from destroying any more buildings within his court.

Despite my numb state, a small smile flickered across my face as I imagined Cassian’s reaction to the news. He wasn’t one to hold petty grudges but he certainly clung on to that of being banned from the Summer Court. I just hoped he wouldn’t be angry with me for leaving without saying goodbye.

Additionally, Tarquin discussed my skill set with me and by the end of the meeting I had been offered a paid position in teaching self-defense courses within the palace to a variety of age groups, primarily focusing on women and children. I brought few assets with me upon leaving the Night Court and my pride was too stubborn to withdraw any of the money from Azriel and I’s shared account when I left. No, I could do well enough on my own - thank you very much.

After the battle of Adriata, Tarquin had ramped up efforts of ensuring his citizens were better protected on all fronts so his offer was mutually beneficial for his court and me, ergo not solely extended out of pity. My pride beamed at that.

I gratefully accepted his offer.

—————

I returned home. Home? No, not home - to my grandmother’s house to find that my sister and nephew were there waiting for me.

“Oh my gods!!!!!” My sister Camila yelped. Practically tackling me.

“Gran! You didn’t tell me that Y/N was coming for lunch. You secretive old thing.”

Before he could say anything I swooped my nephew, Alex, up into my arms and - ouch, I was not as strong as I used to be because it was an effort to lift him. He’d grown at least a foot since the last time I’d seen him. A pang of guilt struck me out of my blissful state and back to reality at the thought. It had been far too long since I’d come to visit my family.

“Where’s Uncle Azriel?” he asked.

The question struck me like a knife. My expression faltering as I scrambled to regain composure. “He’s on a mission.” I lied.

My sister’s brows furrowed. She was always too good at reading me but thankfully she didn’t press further. I would talk to her when I was ready.

We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and catching up. Alex animatedly told me of school and all of his friends - I couldn’t help but smile as the warm summer breeze whisped over my exposed skin. The tea tasted a little bit sweeter, the air a little fresher, and the company a little warmer.

—————

“Y/N?”

Rhysand’s distant voice echoed into my mind as I lay down for bed that night. I always forgot how far his daemati abilities could carry.

“Hello, Rhys.”

“I received Tarquin’s letter. Azriel has been on edge all day and…. Well, I’m not going to ask you to share anything you don’t want to but - it must have been bad. Take all the time you need.”

“I’m not coming back, Rhys.”

The words rolled through me so quickly that I almost believed them but I knew I’d need closure at some point. For now, I wasn’t ready for that.

Seeming to sense that exact thought Rhys only replied, “Write me or Feyre if you need anything at all.”

—————

Who cries knowing you don’t care?

Night time always brought out stronger emotions in me. I’d keep my emotional barriers held high all day but as the sun set, so did those walls. As I lay in bed that night the first waves of grief blew through me. Not a wave of my own grief which had been omnipresent within me but… Azriel’s grief through our bond.

Of course it took me leaving for him to feel anything toward me through our own mating bond. I shut it down as effectively as I could and cried. Tears of anger flowed as I realized that my presence was never enough but my absence was what it took for him to give a damn about me.

Who worries what the future holds?

I grieved the future that could have been ours had he only chosen me. I let the sobs pour out once again as his pain rolled through me in waves. He couldn’t even extend the courtesy of shutting down his end of the bond as he came to grips with the ramifications of his own actions. His emotions only brought me bitterness and maybe that was a flaw on my end but it sure as hell felt justified. I spent so long giving him everything and even now, I still receive only heartache in return.

Who’s tired of empty promises?

He swore he’d love me forever but forever only meant until someone better came along. Certainly it wouldn’t be long before he returned to Elain for comfort. Would he be courteous enough to shut down the bond then or would I feel the pleasure she brought as she soothed his emotional wounds then too? As he healed and made the same empty promises to her that he had to me? Hell, had he already made those promises to her? Would he hold to them for her?

What would he do now that I’m gone?

What would I do now that I’m gone?

———————————————

A/N brace yourselves, we’re getting a different character’s POV in the next chapter 😏 🔥

Tags:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26

#acotar #sarah j maas #azriel x reader #Azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #inspired by hunter hayes #Tarquin #summer court #fuck around and find out #azriel angst #acotar angst #elriel #azriel x elain #elain archeron

[gurugirl]

A Little Naughty | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader

Summary: Your parents invite Harry to come with you for Christmas and you feel a little bit naughty after everyone's in bed.

Word Count: 3360

Warning: smut, fluffy fluff, age gap

Best Friend’s Dad Masterlist

You and Harry were dreamily staring at one another as you sipped your hot chocolate in the cute little café across from the park with the huge twinkly Christmas tree. Everyone was wearing jackets and boots and scarves. It wasn’t that cold but it felt like the right season to bundle up anyway.

It seemed like once you told everyone about you and Harry things only became better between you. You were more attached to him than ever and he was always checking on you.

You quit working at the restaurant and began looking for a better job. Which made Harry really happy. It also made him really happy when you told him you had gotten your implant removed. It was sort of a surprise for him. An early Christmas present. Kind of. You didn’t know how well it would actually go over. You’d talked about it but making that step was huge. But he was overjoyed when you told him. So overjoyed that you wound up on your tummy with your pussy being pounded into before he was coming inside of you (only after you’d already come because he was a gentleman of course). Yeah, it went over pretty well you’d say.

“Can’t wait to get you in bed later. Gonna stuff you so full every day,” he whispered and took a sip.

You laughed and looked around the café, “You’ve been stuffing me full since day one, Mr. Styles,” you teased.

You were both out getting last-minute Christmas gifts for your family. Your mom and dad invited you and Harry over for Christmas. And you’d need to stay the night most likely because the festivities usually included spiked punch and wine so you and Harry would stay in your childhood room. You were surprised when your mom also invited Harry. She said she would have felt bad if she didn’t.

Harry was nervous about the whole thing but you two were doing this together and even if things were awkward, well, that was just the price you had to pay.

.           .           .

You woke up to Harry’s morning wood digging into your thigh. He rocked his hips against you which made you laugh, “Well good morning to you. Like a horny teenager,” you stretched and rolled to face him.

“More like a horny man who’s full of vitality,” he laughed as he spoke.

“You know it’s recommended that you don’t come too often, right? Like to build up a little sperm. Every other day or something like that. And you came in me twice yesterday.”

Harry scrunched his brow, “Are you seriously asking me to wait two days before I get to come? When you’re right here,” he lowered his hand to your bottom and pressed his mouth against yours before continuing his convincing spiel, “So soft and warm. Always so wet and needy too. You don’t want my cock opening up your wet little hole and thrusting into you over and over again until your orgasming? Feels so good, though.”

You moaned. The man always had a way with words, “I mean, you know I love it. I’m not saying that. Just saying that if you really want to knock me up you gotta conserve a little.”

Harry softly swiped his nose into yours, “How about we just fuck like rabbits and see what happens. Plus we gotta go without it tonight and most of the day tomorrow since we’ll be at your parents. We’ll conserve then. But right now,” Harry pulled you in, lifting your thigh over his hip so you could feel his hard dick against your pussy, “I want to make love to my sweet girl.”

He licked at the crease of your mouth and you opened up right away, kissing him back and slipping your hands into the hair at the back of his head. You both rocked against each other as you kissed lazily until you grew wetter and wetter.

Harry gripped your thigh and angled himself to press into you, the yummy pinch of his thick head poking through your entrance had you groaning.

“See?” He rocked into you and pulled back, “Gotta take good care of you, baby.”

You nodded and let Harry take control. You couldn’t move much in the position you were in on your side, but Harry was able to drive himself inside of you as he rolled his hips over and over again.

“You want me to take care of you?”

“Yes, Harry. You’re so good at taking care of me,” you moaned your words against his mouth.

“Every day baby. Gonna have you on my cock every day like this til I put a baby in you. And when you’re all big and swollen with my baby growing inside you I’m gonna take care of you then too. Fuck you soft and slow and make you feel so good. Show you how much I love you. How much I need you.”

You loved how Harry’s big dick slid through you in long, deep strokes. How tight he held you against him. The strength in the way he handled you and yet with such gentleness that made you trust him so completely.

“Jesus, Harry…” you mewled before scraping your nails along the back of his neck.

His hips began to snap into you, the perfect drag of his cock against your g-spot had you panting and the bed shifting under your bodies.

“You make my cock feel so good baby. So creamy and tight,” he pulled back and you could hear just what he meant by how wet you were.

Harry’s soft whine against your lips before he began to move his lips around yours made you melt. You loved when your big, strong man whined and whimpered. You did that to him and you’d never get tired of it. He always let you know how good everything felt. He had no hang-ups about being vulnerable with you.

“Fuck, it’s so deep,” you moaned and nipped at Harry’s lip, making him inhale sharply. But that only egged him on. He rolled you onto your back and began to pound into you, long and heavy strokes making your tummy boil.

Harry’s hips were striking against you with each plunge inward, wet and achy with the smallest hint of pain that only made you grow wetter around him, your arousal slipping down your ass.

“Oh, ahhh!!” Harry deeply panted as he buried himself into you repeatedly.

You clawed at his back and felt the way his muscles flexed and bulged under your fingers. He was putting his all into fucking you.

The unwinding of your inevitable orgasm crashed over your limbs in a hot burst and the moment Harry felt your wet pussy clamping down on him he drove into you deeply with only a few more thrusts before he began to come inside of you, pressing deep into your guts with a heavy groan.

The throbbing of his orgasming cock had you smiling as you moaned. It was the best feeling knowing he had his release because of you.

Harry’s soft moans slowed and you laughed when he crumbled onto your chest.

You let him lie there for a bit as you both savored the moment of the soft bliss after coming together.

“I guess I should get up.” He spoke against your neck.

You nodded and laughed, “Well I do have to shower after that. And I need coffee.”

.           .           .

You appreciated how strong Harry was. He was in the middle of an ugly divorce (though it was moving along faster than you anticipated) and you knew he was stressed but he never made you feel bad. He always made you smile and laugh. But you could see him in moments he didn’t think you were watching.

Like after you’d seen him text Merry Christmas to Fae, there was a small smile on his face as he put his phone away. Something that seemed hopeful. But then he kept checking to see if she would respond. When you watched his face fall after he checked his phone again right before you were about to leave to head to your parents your heart dropped.

You didn’t say anything to him about what you’d noticed. Didn’t want to have him feel like he needed to explain himself. It was a delicate situation.

You were just happy your mom invited him to come with you because you didn’t want to leave him alone on Christmas. His first without Fae since she was born.

When he felt your arms wrap around him and felt you press yourself into his back he loosened a bit. It was hard enough to know that his daughter hated him, but now he was about to face your parents, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years. And he was the same age as they were (well, a couple of years younger but still).

“You sure this is okay?” He asked you as he placed his hands over your arms so you wouldn’t let go.

“Yes. I didn’t ask them to invite you. They wanted to.”

“Just a little nervous about this,” Harry laughed lightly and turned himself in your arms to scoop you up and squeeze you tight to his chest, making your legs dangle in the air.

When he gently put your feet back onto the floor you kept your hand on his arm to keep his attention, “If things get weird at all we can leave. They won’t, but I just want you to know I’m not going to force you to stay there if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

Harry cupped your face, “Uncomfortable I can deal with. I’ll be fine.”

.           .           .

“He’s so hot. No wonder,” your cousin whispered to you as you were in the kitchen setting everything for dinner.

You kept your eyes on the table as you set a plate at the center of the placemat, “He’s attractive, yes. But I love him so it’s more than just about that.”

She snorted and took a sip of her wine, “I guess. I mean he chose you over his own dau–“

You whipped yourself around to glare at her, “Don’t do that. You have no idea how hard this has been.”

You knew some of your family would have their opinions but you didn’t expect anyone to say anything out loud. Though your cousin tended to speak before thinking, she dropped it after that.

And luckily that was the worst of it. Your mother and father greeted you and Harry with open arms and big smiles when you arrived. Harry had brought two very nice bottles of wine and a Christmassy bouquet of flowers, which you told him wasn’t necessary but he insisted.

Your aunt and uncle and cousin had never met him before but the age gap was evident and they knew a little about what was going on. But no one made a fuss about anything.

Harry stayed glued to your side for the better part of the evening. At the dinner table, he sat next to you. When his hands weren’t occupied with a glass or a utensil he had his hand on your thigh.

Your mom bought a gift for Harry and wrapped it so that when it was time to open gifts, he was included in the moment. You and Harry sat on the floor and your cousin was on the other side of the Christmas tree as your dad handed everyone a gift.

“For you, Harry,” he smiled as he handed your boyfriend the wrapped present with a little red bow on top.

“Thank you. This is so nice,” he looked from your dad to your mom and then down at you.

You’d gotten a pair of nice wool socks and a new book, and for Harry, they got him a pair of matching wool socks and a beanie cap.

By the time everyone was done eating and opening gifts things felt warmer and looser. You figured it was thanks to your mom’s punch. Which was generously being refilled when she brought the pitcher out to top up everyone’s glasses.

You were leaned against Harry’s side, his arm around your low back as you both sat on the floor chatting with everyone. You could feel how warm Harry was and when his hand sneakily slid up the back of your sweater, just the tiniest bit, you looked at him and smiled softly. He had his own lips pulled into his mouth and in some moment of insanity or maybe it was the punch he plopped a quick kiss on your lips.

“Oh, you two are so cute!” Your aunt trilled and everyone’s eyes were on you.

“They are. I’ve noticed how sweet they’ve been all night. Better get the earplugs out for bedtime,” your cousin laughed as she looked at your dad and mom.

“Oh my god, stop,” you laughed and put your hands over your face and you could feel Harry as he laughed next to you.

Your aunt and uncle slept in the spare guest room, your cousin on the couch, and you and Harry in your old room. Your bed was small but you were looking forward to getting to lay close to him and talk to him away from the prying ears of everyone.

“Cute,” Harry said as he looked at the decorations you had in your room. “I’m guessing your parents haven’t changed anything.”

You shook your head, “No. Mom said it would always be here for whenever I wanted to come and live with them again,” you laughed. “I think she was in denial when I first moved out.”

“Understandable,” he nodded, a solemn look on his face as he sat down on your bed.

You recognized the sudden mood change and sat next to him, taking his hand, “I love you, Harry. I’m so glad we could spend Christmas together. Are you okay?” You reached across to cup his cheek.

He sighed and nodded, “I love you too. I’m happy with you, Y/n. So happy we are together right now. But I do miss Fae. This brings back lots of memories of her room. Even the photo of you two over there. I took that one if I recall correctly.”

You looked toward the framed photo of you and Fae side hugging and wearing matching overalls with goofy grins.

“I think you did, actually.” You leaned your head onto his shoulder and he kissed your forehead.

When you’d both gotten settled in the bed Harry had pulled you onto his chest and slowly dragged his hand up and down your back as he spoke in a quiet whisper, “This was fun. I’m so happy your parents invited me. Feels a little awkward but I guess that’s just part of the deal isn’t it?”

You could hear the smile in his voice as you lifted your head and put your chin over his pec to look at him in the dark, “Guess so.”

You smoothed your hand down his bare chest and to the band of his joggers before he quickly shifted, “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to make things feel better. Make you forget all about sad stuff,” you crept your fingers under the elastic of his pants but Harry stopped you, putting his hand over yours.

“Don’t. We can’t do anything in your parent's house. And besides, what about conserving? Hmm?”

You softly laughed and kissed his nipple, moving yourself to peck across his sternum to the other side of his chest, “We can do whatever we want if we’re quiet. And I have a feeling you don’t need to conserve. I bet you’re super fertile.”

Harry's chest vibrated with a groan, “Bad idea.” He grabbed your face and lifted it so you’d stop kissing his chest.

“Good idea,” you teased back in a whisper. “You don’t want to play around a little? I know we can be so quiet.” Your words were smushed with the way Harry’s hand held your jaw to keep you still.

“I don’t want there to be any possibility of them hearing or thinking anything is going on.”

Harry softly let go of your face and you lowered your hand that was in his sweatpants the slightest, “Please? Mr. Styles, I’ll be so quiet. Let me just lick you a little and pump your cock so you can come. I’ll take all the mess down my throat so we won’t even need to clean up or anything. Please?”

When your hand found his cock he was already plumping up to your delight.

“Fuck, Y/n. I already said this is a bad idea.” He was already giving in.

You palmed over him and adjusted his length so he was pointed upward in his pants, “You’re already getting hard. It’ll be so fast and you’ll sleep like a baby after. Right?”

Harry puffed out a laugh through his nose and gulped down his saliva. He knew he’d come fast if he didn’t have to worry about you getting off too. And it would eliminate any mess if you wrapped your soft lips around his tip as he began to come.

You hesitantly began to stroke him as you lowered your mouth back down to his chest, to lick and kiss again. The deep tremor from his torso let you know that he was a go as you dotted kisses all over his strong chest.

When he began to rock his hips upward in your hand you took that as your cue. You sat up and pulled his pants down to let his big cock out and you licked along his shaft, softly wetting him so you could pump his length properly.

The only sounds Harry made were the smallest grunts and soft pants as you kissed along his hips and continued to stroke him in your hand, down to the base against the thatch of dark hair and upward to his swollen head, already leaking precome. Every now and then you wrapped your lips around his tip and suckled, digging your tongue into his slit and leaving behind a healthy amount of saliva to keep him nice and wet.

Harry felt his balls tighten and he put his hand to the back of your head, “Bout to come, baby…” he whispered in a panic as you were pressed down over the head of his cock.

You kept your hand at his shaft, sliding up and down as you sucked and swiped your tongue all around his tip and the underside of his frenulum when you felt his cock tighten and then throb as he pumped his orgasm down your throat silently.

You swallowed and gulped as you lowered your hand to his balls and gently squeezed, which drew an unintentional moan from his lips but he stopped himself before he got too loud.

With his balls drained and his come in your tummy you licked up from his base to his tip and he laughed quietly, pulling you up to his mouth.

You both smiled into the soft kiss.

Harry moved a hand down to your bottom and pinched you over the fabric of your night pants. Laughing into his mouth he tsk’d at you, “That was naughty. Santa isn’t going to give you your presents this year.”

You sighed and laid your head over his chest, “Don’t need anything from Santa anyway. You’re all I want. And you were practically silent the whole time. No one would ever know what I just did to you.”

Harry breathed out a laugh and draped his arm over your back. You could feel his heart pounding, slowly the cadence got lazy as he caught his breath and calmed.

“I’m so wet,” you smiled as you whispered.

Harry hummed, “Well you’ll just have to deal with it. Because you can’t keep quiet and there’s no way your parents wouldn’t know something was up.”

You didn’t mind in all truth. You only wanted to make Harry come anyway, “Don’t worry, Harry. I got exactly what I wanted anyway.”

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @zayndrivesmeinvain @i83andrew @shamelessfangirl-3 @onceagainace @stoneyggirl2 @fairytale07 @princessaxoo @littlenatilda @stylesfever @whoreonmondays @harryspirate @lovrave @missstyles4 @cherryluvhobi @ladscarlett @hisparentsgallerryy @chesthairrry @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #bfd!harry #best friend's dad!harry #harry styles #firstpost #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #dad!harry #dadrry #dilf!harry #best friend's dad #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry #harry smut #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harrystyles

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (4)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Parts: one, two, three, five

Word Count: 4,2K, i should ask for forgiveness

Warnings: flirting, pinning, (FUCKING) FINALLY, unprotected sex, buggy detaching parts of his body during sex like the freak he is

A/N: i've been building this moment so long that i was, once more, inspired by god to make this chapter the longest ever, i hope you all enjoy and that the awaited smut doesn't disappoint and delivers (let me know, anxiety is killing me, love u all, see you in chapter 5, the final (until season 2) of this series) (again i'm really really sorry for any grammatical mistake!)

Day 5 after what happened during the Arlong Park fight, or what is the same for her = 5 AAP, (Y/N) is sure about three things:

1. With the choice of leaving her mercenary life behind, comes her new position as the ''strategist'' of the Straw Hat crew, a group of very unique people that after a couple of stops along the way, would arrive at the Grand Line.

2. Their next destination is Loguetown, which excited her; she loved the city, she never turned down an assignment that involved working there. They would arrive in a couple of days and stock up on everything they would need before beginning the greatest adventure of their lives.

3. Buggy's nose was real. Very real. And she missed him. Just a bit.

To be more precise, that bit of tension and constant sarcasm around her. She knew he was a pain in the ass, and that his staying on the ship wouldn't have lasted much more than an extra day and a half because one of her crewmates -Zoro- would have unceremoniously thrown him overboard anytime.

But it was really fun for her, so from time to time and in particular, when she passes by the helm, she finds herself remembering that annoying talking head and smiling a bit.

And so, after an entire week, they arrive at the famous Loguetown, the tomb of the most famous pirate of all time, a refuge for mercenaries, pirates and bounty hunters from all corners of the East Blue! No matter what, everything your heart could desire -except for the One Piece- you could find there. Jewelry, weapons, food, alcohol, a good bed to sleep and rest in, or other darker, macabre and adult types of entertainment.

Ah, what a city. Anyone could get lost among its endless alleys packed with people. That's why when the crew splits up, they do it in pairs, making sure that Zoro, who they had already discovered, lacked complete and utter sense of direction, wouldn't be left alone and lost among the city's infinite tide of pirates. (Y/N) is the one who goes with him, both heading to the largest armory in the city to replace his destroyed katanas while Sanji and Luffy take care of the food, and Usopp and Nami go around to do… she doesn’t really remember what. Trying clothes she believes.

She must say, however, that this swordsman is not exactly the most talkative person in the world even though their friendship has considerably grown and deepened during their little journey. Apart from sharing small notes about the city, how many people there are, or what they should do, they don't really talk that much; in her case, because she is absorbed in her surroundings, soaking in every possible detail. Him, silent because his reputation as a pirate hunter is famous around all the East Blue, and of course, in Loguetown there are only pirates. He prefers to stay alert to avoid future conflicts and have a peaceful morning. Not for him, but for his crew.

That's why when a gloved hand flies out of a dark alley, and violently covers the girl's mouth and nose, preventing her from screaming, while another grabs her by the waistband of her pants and yanks her back, forcing her to get in said alley, Zoro doesn't even notice, he continues calmly walking, minding his own fucking business, heading to only God knows where.

Farewell, mosshead.

In a blink, (Y/N)'s back collides with a strong torso, and with her heart in her mouth and adrenaline running wild in her veins, she stretches her right hand to reach the knife she has in the holster on her right thigh to destroy the asshole that dares to try to steal from her. Or murder her. Or that's her idea until she hears a familiar voice murmuring an “I got you” behind her, before turning her head and discovering the biggest, reckless buffoon she's ever met.

Buggy.

Eyes wide open, she screams against his palm, pissed off by the way he scared the shit outta her. Extremely angry, she yanks his hand away from her mouth, turns her entire body around and looks at him with what he would swear, is the most annoyed expression he ever saw in his entire life. Before the clown can excuse himself and his lack of manners, just as she begins to see that stupid smile appear on his stupid face, she slaps him so hard that for a second, he thinks his head will detach from the rest of his body.

Then, and pushed by an outburst of passion that comes out of she doesn’t even understand where, a mixture of adrenaline, surprise, her desire to kill him with her own hands and the -sexual- frustration with which he abandoned her the last time, she grabs his vest, pulls and kisses him. Again, all before Buggy can even react.

The kiss is brief. Really quick, but intense as hell, and she manages to leave him breathless. Yes, him. Only him. Because the moment they separate, when (Y/N) pushes him back, she spits out a heartfelt “You're an idiot!”

What a fucking rollercoaster. He doesn't even remember what he was about to say anymore to greet her. He's in fact, too stunned to speak. Did she slapped, kissed, and insulted him in less than a minute? Oh, she's a freak, just like him. The only difference between them is that she knows how to pretend the opposite. But she can't hide it from him. Not to the king of the freaks.

''I missed you too, baby'' he admits with an amused smile, moving his jaw a little from side to side, as well as his neck; that woman is stronger than he expected.

''Yeah? Because I really didn’t.’’ she spits once again, taking a deep breath. ''Liar'' he retorts, eyeing her up and down. ''Liir'' she instantly mocks, still recovering from the tsunami of emotions that just passed through her. ''What the fuck are you doing in Loguetown?''

''I came looking for my sorry excuses for a supporting cast,'' his crew. Were they still alive? Would have sworn Zoro destroyed all of them but who knew. ''and turns out I found the perfect, shiny, little new supporting star for my show'' he adds, as flirtatious as always around her, approaching (Y/N) again.

''Oh, I feel flattered but as I already told you, I don't like being in the spotlight. I relate way more to the shadow around it.”

He rolls his eyes but nods in understanding, reaching out to grab the girl's waist. ''Mhm. What about a private show, then? We have a play to finish, If my memory's not betraying me.'' He whispers honeyed, closing the distance between the two just a bit more. Cannot stop himself, neither he wants to. He knew as soon as he recognized her on the street, he would not let her go without putting order in their outstanding matters.

She’s about to add her usual sarcastic and smartass remark saying something among the lines of ‘without inviting me to dinner first?’ but she chooses not to. Just for once. ''I could agree to that.'' The girl admits, tilting a smile. ''Not here, tho.'' Pressing the clown's chest with her index finger, signaling for him to stay still, (Y/N) runs her tongue over her upper teeth, taking a couple of seconds to think.

In the end, she raises an eyebrow, and with an amused smile, she asks: “Do you trust me?”

''Not in a million years''

''I knew you would say that.'' She still takes one of his hands, that was still on her waist, and starts walking quite fast towards the other end of the alley, pulling him with her. He doesn’t object at all, despite not knowing where the hell is she taking him, and simply follows her lead, unconsciously squeezing her hand to not to lose her in the crowd.

Not many minutes later, after climbing some stairs and turning a few streets, there they are, in front of a beautiful tavern with windows decorated with ornate dark wooden planks, designing patterns of small squares, offering a beautiful view of its interior. The building was not one of the largest in the area, but it was not one of the smallest either. She knew from experience* that the floors above the tavern were rooms rented to the pickiest pirates. They had enough space to rest comfortably after a long voyage at sea, with a good bed and several locks on the doors and windows to prevent intrusions, attempts at robbery or murder, or a drunken idiot making a mistake and entering the wrong room.

*She knows this because a couple of years ago she needed to sneak in during the night to steal a jade seal from a famous pirate captain, who had previously stolen it from the temple it belonged to a few months before. Getting in wasn't easy at all.

Walking to the side of the building, where the windows of the rooms can be seen better, (Y/N) looks right, then left, making sure there’s no one nosing around.

‘’Here we are.’’ She announces, looking at him with a devilish smirk on her face. ''Now pay attention, here's my brilliant, unique and exceptional plan. It will absolutely blow your mind.’’ He cracks a genuine smile after hearing how she praised herself. She sounded almost like him. 

“First step: Throw your head up to that window over there,” she points said window with her index finger, two floors above their heads, “and tell me if there’s someone sleeping inside. Or if you see any sign someone rented the room.’’

Confusion is the feeling that crosses his beautiful face for a second, looking at her with a raised eyebrow and lips pressed into a small incredulous smile. She wants to sneak through the window without being seen and not pay a single berry? Exactly what a true pirate would do. He was starting to fall in love with her.

Without a second thought, his head separates from his body and floats to the open window, slightly sneaking in to check as she asked. And as fast as it goes up, it returns back down, just like a yo-yo. ''Clear'' He confirms, amused. 

''Perfect, second step: now throw your right hand, same window, and leave it there.'' And he does as she says, no questions asked, because he could not do otherwise. Because he wouldn't want to do otherwise. He was not made to follow orders and still, deep down, he knows he would follow hers. Or better said… he would follow her around. She was, maybe, not a theatre kid like him, but to his eyes, she shines brightly.

Not as much as him, tho.

Once Buggy's right hand waits patiently on the window frame, (Y/N) grabs the clown by the shoulders and strategically positions him under the window. Then she takes his left hand, bringing it forward. "Third step: with this hand you propel me into the air, with the other you grab me and you help me sneak in."

''And the final step?'' Getting very close to his face, the girl rubs her nose against his and whispers, voice low and lustful, ''You float to the window and meet me inside for that private show you mentioned before.'' He already knew the goal of that whole improvised plan, but he almost purrs when he hears her say it.

Then Buggy throws her upwards without prior notice, way stronger than she expected, and a sweet, genuine laugh escapes (Y/N)'s lips at the lack of gravity and that distinctive tickle in her stomach that rises to her throat. Not even when he uses that floating hand to catch her and guide her to the room, her feet on solid ground again, she’s able to stop laughing.

She expected this whole forbidden getaway to be entertaining, but not so, so fun. There was no point in denying the obvious: the complicity, the chemistry between them is criminal, asphyxiating, palpable, and so, so /real/. It's not only about physical attraction and sexual tension anymore, they were actually really compatible, which could only, and is already, making things one hundred times better.

As soon as she's inside, still giggling a bit, she's quick to reach the door and securely close it, fitting the bolt with a pair of lockpicks that she had on her. On the other hand, as soon as Buggy gets inside the room he chooses not to lose a single second, because every second he wastes is one less that he can enjoy that fantastic woman who is driving him crazy; before she can return to the center of the room, he has already recovered his right hand, thrown his hat to the floor along with his coat, and has rushed towards her, kissing her again, this time without a hurry, but voraciously, passionately, with the irresistible yearning he has been suffering for almost two weeks. He wants-- no, he needs to make her his. The desire making his blood boil. Her warmth, her smell, the taste of her lips-- even her laugh. It was too much. Too intoxicating.

(Y/N) welcomes him, sighing deeply against his lips, tilting her head a little, melting in the kiss, her hands flying to his hair to take out the bandana and pull at his blue locks, to which Buggy responds by grabbing her from the back of her thighs, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed, near the window. He lets some of his weight fall onto her, loosely holding himself on his knees on the mattress. She closes her legs around his waist, pressing him even a little closer against her body, excitement coursing through her veins like poison.

All that little game with the clown was just flirting, huh? Yeah, sure.

For a minute, everything is kisses, stealing each other's breaths, strong caresses on arms, legs, and back over clothes. There are bites at each other's lips, seemingly incapable of getting enough of the other, the attraction between them driving them both so absolutely insane than getting some distance to get naked seems impossible.

“Baby,” raspily, he press his crotch between her legs to let her feel his growing erection under his pants. ''I suggest you getting naked before I rip your clothes off by myself.''

She moans in response, wetter, more aroused by every second passing, unable to even think about playing hard to get this time. ''Aye aye captain'' she manages to whisper back mischievously, separating her hands from his body in order to pull her own shirt up and throw it somewhere in the room.

He grunts, but makes the titanic effort to separate himself from her, standing on his knees in front of her laying body, licking his lips, breathing heavily, eyes half-closed, already fucking her in his thoughts. Of course, seeing her undress for him is quite a show.

After her shirt comes the button and zipper of her pants. Although before getting rid of these, she pulls the scarf around the clown's neck, forcing him to lean over her again, and after it goes his vest. Given the girl's haste, he lets escape a hoarse laugh that reverberates inside his chest and decides to help her with whatever’s left between them; shoes, pants, gloves, and underwear.

''You're gorgeous'' he breathes, taking in her image in front of him. “You’re almost making me feel guilty for what I'm about to do.”

Before she could even ask, or threaten with a ‘don't you fucking dare’ or something among those lines, one of Buggy's hands flies to her own, and pins her wrists against the bed with such force, she hisses, heart in her throat, deafening her ears. She remembers herself, this was all too good to be true, and that damn clown promised to make her beg. He wasn't going to forgive her so easily, was he?

Her fault.

''Sweetheart, open your beautiful legs for me, will you?'' Returning to the bed, the clown settles between the girl's thighs, running -with the only hand still attached to his body-, one of her legs, from the knee to the hip bone in a slow and tortuous caress.

''Now, I'm pretty sure I warned you about what's about to happen last time you took advantage of my... uncomfortable, kinda-hostage situation on your stupid little boat. When you decided to push me to my limit.''

She is too aroused, too turned on to think clearly, her mind clouded by the same rush of hormones that’s making her incredibly wet. Having him now naked between her legs, threatening her in that low tone of voice, exposed helplessly in front of him, doesn't help at all; it is, as a matter of fact, making things way worse.

''You wanted me to beg, right?’’

''Exactly. It's that easy.'' After a couple of strokes, he grabs his erection and runs it slowly through her wet folds, both of them barely containing a moan in their throats at the sensation. He, perhaps, better than her, because (Y/N) involuntarily pushes her hips upwards, trying to get some more. ''Ah-ah. Want me to fuck you, sweetheart? Just beg for it. Beg for /me/.''

Being the proud woman she is, it's not exactly easy for her to seriously beg for something. Joking? Of course, any time, even sarcastically, but something is telling her, her sixth sense probably, he won't settle with a sarcastic remark and dove eyes.

Closing her eyes tightly, she lets herself be carried away by pure and absolute desperation every time he runs his erection through her, lubricating himself with her fluids. He is silent, already tasting the sweet victory he’ll feel when he manages to break her and make her beg. Although this doesn't happen as quickly as he would have preferred.

''(Y/N)'' He warns, and it's the first time he says her name out loud. The first time she hears him, with his raspy voice and his beautiful accent, pronouncing her real name instead of some compliment or silly nickname to call her.

Welcome, breaking point.

''Beg--'' 

''I need you,'' she interrupts him in a low whimper, lifting her hips. ''Bugs-- Buggy, I need you to fuck me. Now.”

Usually, it's moments like this particular one in which the clown enjoys recreating himself, making others beg a little more, -sex, mercy, forgiveness- doesn’t matter-, taking his good time listening to her moans and cries of desperation. But he can't help it, the second he hears the girl call him by his name, telling him how much she needs him, and that silly attempt of an order at the end, he knows it’s game over, and he decides to give her exactly what she wants, penetrating her suddenly the last time he runs slowly through her folds. A sweet moan of relief and pleasure escapes from (Y/N) chest along with a "Fuck, Buggy--". From him, a hoarse grunt. A shiver runs down their spines, and quickly, Buggy recovers his other hand, freeing her from his grip, to aggressively pull both of her thighs to bring her closer to him, and begins to thrust hard, all shreds of self-control escaping from his body lightspeed.

He pushes into her as deep as he can in no time, burying himself between her legs, face hidden in the crook of her neck, hands keeping her legs open, close to his hips.

She doesn't know what she likes more, the erratic sound of his breathing and panting in her ear, the desperation with which his whole body seems to search for hers or each penetration sending an ecstasy shock through her nerves, but she soon becomes a puddle of sweet moans, whimpers and breathing as heavy as his, one hand pulling hard at his blue hair, the other resting on his abdomen, nails digging slightly his skin with each thrust.

''Oh god, Bugs--’’

''Moan my name louder baby,'' he breathes before biting her shoulder, leaving the mark of his teeth imprinted on her skin. ''I want them to catch us. I want them hearing you scream my name.”

And she does. She moans his name again, just not as loud as he wants. Which means there is something, something he can do better. Something to push her to her limit, to make her a believer, and make her /his/.

Summoning all his willpower, and not before one last, violent thrust, the clown stops and suddenly pulls out of her. (Y/N) complains with a loud cry, opening her eyes to ask what the fuck is he actually doing, how dares he to stop. Thank God, she doesn't have time to threaten him before he speaks.

''On your knees.'' And of course she obliges, on all fours, the simple idea making her completely lose her mind. Only thing, Buggy doesn't intend to keep her like this for a long time; as soon as she exposes herself for him again, he buries himself once more inside her as deep as he can and starts thrusting again, slowly but strongly, ending each thrust with a loud slam. This time, both hands separate from his body, one reaching for her delicate neck, which he circles with his fingers and presses to lightly cut off her breathing. The other one flies to her mouth, pushing between her lips with two fingers that she soaks in her saliva.

(Y/N), unable to articulate a single complaint, sucks, bites and licks them, muffling against them every sound that escapes her throat.

A pleasure shock, like a lightning bolt, forces her to arch her back the moment that same hand flies to her clitoris and starts masturbating it, overstimulating her.

Buggy is really determined to make her his, to not let her forget about him, to become the legitimate protagonist of each of her erotic fantasies, so to finish driving her crazy, the hand he has around her neck lifts her up, pulling her until he forces her back against his torso in a beautiful reference to the day they met and the first time he felt that magnetic attraction inevitably pulling him towards her.

''So. Much. Better,” he manages to whisper between grunts and raspy moans, surrounding her abdomen with one of his arms to keep her in place, close to his chest, sacrificing penetrating her as deeply as he would like but without caring in the slightless because he knows, she is quickly reaching her orgasm. He can feel it in the way her walls contract around his cock, in the beating of her heart in her throat against his hand, and in how her hands reach for anything, trying to support herself; in this case, his arm around her, nails scratching his skin.

''C'mon baby, cum for me.'' He groans, refusing to fall headfirst to his own orgasm because he doesn't plan to finish before her. Under other circumstances he would have done it, he has never been the kind of generous lover who thinks of his partner's pleasure before his own. This woman is breaking some old habits and patterns just being the way she is. And he doesn't care at all.

A few more thrust, the lack of enough oxygen in her lungs and that wonderful pressure on her clitoris, and (Y/N) explodes in an orgasm so strong she begins to breathless moan Buggy’s name over and over again like a mantra, which obviously feeds his ego so, so much, it ends up sending him over the same edge, moaning her name under his breath, resting his forehead on her shoulder, hugging her body tightly as they ride their climax.

                                        …

''Told you I would make you beg'' he cracks a devilish smirk, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders when he finally lies on the mattress.

''Yeah'' she giggles, although sarcastically, recovering by the second, enough clarity to recompose her own ego. ''You also told me you would make me find the One Piece without going to the Grand Line and I cannot see it anywhere yet.''

What a subtle way of asking for a second round, he thinks to himself, clearly pleased -instead of offended- for the way his smile stretches even more, looking intently at her.

“You're right.” He would have liked to lie on the bed for a while, getting back some energy and attack again, but damn him if he ever dares to reject a provocation as bold as that one. He wouldn't forgive himself.

Getting out of bed almost as quickly as he lay down a few minutes ago, Buggy cracks his neck from side to side, and taking one of the chairs next to the table in the room, he turns it in the air, leaving it pointing towards the girl.

He then sits down, leaning on the backrest, relaxed, exhaling an erotic, slow sigh as he exaggeratedly separates his legs in a clear invitation for her to come closer and sit on them.

"What did you say the other day? About liking a man with his entire body, capable of fucking you in his lap and making you scream his name?"

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece x reader #captain buggy

[lucysarah-c]

Masterlist!

All my Levi x reader fanfics and Levi fanart

Art Commission: CLOSED!

Writing Requests: CLOSED!

Headcanons and asks:

-> Little "toxic" things Levi does as a boyfriend

-> Levi dating a Swifty

-> Levi's s/o telling him she's pregnant

-> Virgin! Levi

-> Sexism in AoT

-> Homosexuality in AoT

-> Levi showing affection to his S/O in front of his kids

-> Levi having competition to wins your heart!

-> Canon! Levi (Scouts time) views on kids, marriage and romantic relationships

-> Alpha! Levi believes you would be a good mommy of his spawns

-> Wishing to be breed by Levi.

One-Shots:

-> Ackerman’s blood

Levi fears for the first time that perhaps his Ackerman's powers aren't a bleassing when his son suffers the consequences of them. Dad! Levi x Reader

-> Stoppers (NSFW!!)

Levi feels overwhelming jealous and decides that there's nothing better to set things clear of who owns who than a good old fucking. Levi x Reader.

-> Criminal Record Part 1 - Part 2

Levi insist he has done worse things in his life than, perhaps, sleeping with a subordinate.

-> Traidor

2020 what a time to be alive. The snk character are doing the same as old of us trying to survive the lockdown... playing among us! Levi x reader.

-> Father’s day

Having a soldier as a father is never easy, way less when your father is Humanity's strongest soldier. Levi's kid has the perfect gift but perhaps it's not the perfect scenario. Dad! Levi x Mom! reader

-> Couple goals

Levi hates military's formal events and you know it. Both of you still make the perfect team.

-> Baby boy

Hang out with your higher-ups as you just become Levi's girlfriend. What's the worse thing that could happen? Spoiler alert: Eren is not going to forget about this... neither Erwin.

-> Scratches down his back NSFW-ish

Repeat after me, nothing good happens in the common showers unless it’s Levi sandwiching you with the wet wall. Sadly, this is not the case. So, nothing good will happen. 

-> Blackfire

Erwin insists that Levi should educate his squad on certain topics proper of their age. Levi isn't really convinced but Commander's orders are Commander's orders… However, Erwin didn't specify on what he should educate his bratty cadets about. Levi x reader!

-> ANGEL

You met Captain Levi while working as a teacher at one of the new orphanages that Queen Historia created. He seems so willying to help. (YANDERE! Levi x reader NSFW!!)

-> Tea time

Levi is deep down a huge gossip old lady. Levi x reader

-> An Old-fashioned Girl

You're a teen living her normal life until she travelled back on time to aot period.

-> Self-sabotage

Erwin begs Levi to buy him a coffee on his way to university. Having a crush in a barista is so hard when you don't like coffee. (Modern au! University student Levi having a crush on a barista)

-> Not in season? NSFW! Part 1 - Part 2

Winter had settled in, and the scouts were busy training and preparing for the prospects of spring, still far away, to retake Wall Maria. Despite the snow accumulating outside, the building was freezing cold, and the world had secluded itself until the temperature rose. So, why was Captain Levi boiling in his own body? Something felt off, but his mind was quickly slipping into insanity as he tried to find a rational explanation. OMEGAVERSE ALPHA LEVI X OMEGA READER.

-> Levi and the first encounter! Underground! Levi

Tales of Levi's life in the underground.

-> EXPLANATION OMEGAVERSE AU

-> Fifteen, what an age to be alive!

Steal your father's car! What could go wrong? Dad! Levi x Mom! Reader

-> Laundry Problems

Levi's a very stoic calm man. He always does laundry but as a unknown piece of clothe appear, Levi's life flash before his eyes. Levi x reader

-> Bed-head Levi

How are Captain Levi's mornings?

-> Boop! You've been chosen!

Levi and you decide to adopt a kitty.

-> My Teen! Levi's modern AU stories.

There's a lot of them so here's a link to all of them.

-> EUPHEMISMS (NSFW-ish)

Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy… and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period)

-> Transactional (PURE NSFW!!!)

When you go to ask Captain Levi for a promotion, it's important to remain humble.

Little Pieces I Wrote (Self-Explanatory Titles).

-> Levi isn't romantic

-> Levi as a father part 1 part2

-> Unpopular aot opinions

-> Levi growing up in the underground 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,

-> Levi's morning with happy ending NSFW

-> Sick clingy Levi NSFWish

-> Soft Levi NSFWish

-> Horny Levi x nurse! reader NSFW

-> Levi x Passenger princess reader

-> Travelling with Levi

-> Girlfriend effect on Levi!

-> Levi loving calling his girlfriend "wife"

-> Levi and farlan as roomies

-> Levi as the father of a baby boy

-> Being humanity's strongest baby girl

-> SnK boys and pilates.

-> Levi's baby thinks Levi's tight chess works as mommy's chest lol

-> Erwin finds out that now Levi is busy at night 👀

-> Levi's only weakness... You, you and a sundress

-> Sexually frustrated Levi

-> Levi = female gaze

-> Levi using you as an excuse for anything

-> Modern au! Levi was a very attentive fuck buddy, even more attentive as a boyfriend.

-> Your horse doesn't want to share you with Levi.

-> Levi's daughter

Holy Ground (longfic! over 300k Levi x reader)

Your relationship with your boyfriend is hanging on by a very thin thread, and everything is a good excuse to not go back to your cold bed - and that’s how you find yourself in a situation that you will soon regret. This story takes place before Eren discovered he was a Titan shifter, before Wall Maria was retaken, even before it was broken. The veterans usually make fun of the cadets for being bratty teenagers, but were they any better?

600! Followers event!

Have you ever wished you could ask Captain Levi a few questions and see his reaction? Well! say no more! I left Levi incharge of my blog for a few days. Enjoy the comic with hisreactions!

2k! Followers event!

Have you ever wished you could ask Captain Levi a few questions and see his reaction? Well! say no more! I left Levi incharge of my blog for a few days. Enjoy the comic with hisreactions! Part 2! Levi's revenge.

SnK Incorrect Quotes:

63 and COUNTING silly posts of quotes that I think snk characters would say.

You think that art looks cute? I draw it! Here's a link to a few of my other pieces!

WANNA JOIN MY TAG LIST SO YOU DON’T LOSE A SINGLE POST? HERE!

#levi ackerman #levi #captain levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #aot levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackeman #levi attack on titan #captain levi ackerman x you #captain levi x reader #captian levi x reader #captain levi ackerman x y/n #captain levi x you #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titans #levi smut #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman x female!reader

[tyonfs]

netflix and chill

❝ you’ve been eye-fucking me all night, and i was starting to think you weren’t gonna get around to the chill part of netflix and chill. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee jeno x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, strangers to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, smut, couch sex, wall sex, shower sex, fingering, dry humping, lots of teasing!! and some degradation and praise, oral (fem. receiving), choking, size kink, bulge kink, hyuck is insufferable, i’m sorry this is pure filth, despite the warnings there are fluffy moments

SUMMARY ▸ lee jeno doesn’t want to give up the carefree life of a single man, not tied down by emotional entanglements and commitments. that is, until he sees you smacking a man twice your size with a stack of engineering paper. he kind of falls in love, so jeno does what any normal person does and invites you over to netflix and chill.

PLAYLIST ▸ long way 2 go by cassie • sour grapes by le sserafim • foreshadow by enhypen • lucid dream by aespa

WORD COUNT ▸ 10,087 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello hello! i went awol for a tiny bit but im back and i really hope you guys enjoy this !! shoutout to the ice cream sandwich that kept me awake to finish this. second installment of the bitch hunters series ♡ 

THE FIRST TIME LEE JENO FELT THE WORLD SHIFT OFF ITS AXIS WAS WHEN HE SAW YOU KNOCKING THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF A MAN TWICE YOUR SIZE.

Na Jaemin and Lee Donghyuck, his housemates, were still bickering behind Jeno about a pact they had made in the beginning of the year. It was a tradition the residents of the Bitch Hunters household carried out, in which they would get a girlfriend in their fourth year of college. Since their other housemate, Huang Renjun, had already accomplished a successful bitch hunting season, Jaemin and Donghyuck were arguing who would get a girlfriend between the two of them.

Jeno honestly didn’t care when it happened; he just knew he was ready for a relationship, but he was planning on waiting for the perfect girl to come along.

Jeno had flings here and there. He hooked up with Kim Minjeong for a long time before she got a boyfriend. He was a great guy and Jeno truly was happy for them, but he felt a strange feeling in his chest when he realized she was tied down.

No, it wasn’t jealousy in any sense. Jeno was on good terms with Minjeong, but he didn’t like her to the point of wanting to be in a relationship. The reason he felt so strange was because he felt left behind. Once Minjeong picked herself up and found someone that made her happy, Jeno felt like he was stuck in a rut.

That, or he just felt embarrassed to be lumped with Donghyuck and Jaemin.

It was when Jeno started dreading his 4 P.M. Structural Design class that he started to think about how laughable his situation was. He was an architectural engineering major who could outline the process for laying down the foundation for a building, but he couldn’t set the foundations of a relationship within himself.

That was when he heard the commotion.

“Cut it out already!” the person yelled. “I don’t want anything to do with you after what you pulled last night.”

“Y/N, please,” the man who looked about twice your size begged. “Can we just talk in private?”

“I already told you, I don’t wanna see your face again.”

It was rare for Jeno to get involved in other people’s problems, but you two were arguing in the middle of campus and Jeno was a little scared for you. For starters, the man was taller than Jeno himself, and he kept getting closer to you despite your protests. It always angered him when he saw situations like these unravel; some people just didn’t know how to respect boundaries.

“Whoa.” Donghyuck placed a hand on Jeno’s shoulder after he had stopped in his tracks. “What are you gonna do? Punch him?”

“Let’s get going, Jeno.” Jaemin nudged his housemate. “Causing a scene in front of everyone might make this worse.”

Jeno was a careful man. He paid his bills on time, stuck to a strict routine to make sure he completed everything by the end of the day, and abided by the rules as often as he needed to. Violence was definitely not in Lee Jeno’s book, and this was mostly because he promised his mother that he wouldn’t get into trouble. So, nope, he was not going to get involved.

“Just please don’t tell my girlfriend.”

There was one thing that Jeno would never tolerate, and that was cheating.

Whatever snapped in him had clouded his brain completely. Before he knew it, he was charging over to the guy with his hand balled in a fist, raising behind him to swing.

The sharp sound that followed the blow made the courtyard go silent. For a moment, Jeno couldn’t even figure out what had happened. His knuckles weren’t stinging at all, and he hadn’t even gotten close enough to land a blow on the man.

“Holy shit,” Jeno whispered when he realized the man had been knocked down by none other than you.

You were holding your thick stack of engineering paper in both hands, brows knitted in frustration as you realized what you had just done. You finally made eye contact with Jeno. He wasn’t sure if his heart was racing because he was absolutely terrified of you, or if he had just fallen in love with you. Both were plausible, and that confused Jeno even more.

The man grunted and started to get up. “Hey—”

This could turn ugly fast, and Jeno had already inserted himself into the situation by approaching you. Before anyone could react, he grabbed one of your hands and started sprinting in the direction of the architecture building.

(He was going to get an earful about this from Donghyuck and Jaemin later, which he was not prepared for.)

When Jeno decided that the coast was clear and it was safe for you two to stop running, he jogged to a halt and let go of your hand. His chest was heaving from exerting himself suddenly, and he felt a little bad when you had to double over to catch your breath.

“Thanks,” you breathed out, hands placed firmly on your knees, “but… who are you?”

“Um, Jeno,” he introduced. “Lee Jeno.”

“I’m Y/N,” you said, managing a smile while looking like you were about to go limp. “How’d you know I needed to go to the arch building?”

“Oh…” Jeno glanced over his shoulder. “Actually, I just wanted to get us out of that weird situation. I just ended up running to wherever my next class was.” He paused for a second before asking, “You an arch student, too?”

“I’m materials engineering, but I’m trying to switch,” you explained. “Anyway, thanks for getting me out of there. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I just kept standing there.”

Jeno laughed. “Honestly, I didn’t need to do anything. It looks like you can handle yourself just fine.”

You had a curious look dancing in your eyes, like you wanted to say something more, but you held off. Instead, you asked, “What class are you going to, by the way?”

“Structural Design,” Jeno answered with a scoff. “I don’t think you’re gonna experience the thrill of columns and beams anywhere else.”

“No way. I’m trying to crash that class.”

“Willingly?”

You giggled. “If I wanna switch—yeah,” you said matter-of-factly. “You wouldn’t mind helping me get in, would you?”

Jeno pondered on this for a second. This was the perfect opportunity to get to know you, a complete stranger, a lot better. He was already seeing possibilities of something coming out of this, but he also didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I mean, I do know the professor pretty well,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging into a grin, “so I guess I could put in a good word.”

This seemed to brighten your spirits, which was a stark contrast to the gloomy expression you wore earlier. Jeno exchanged some small talk with you, getting to learn that you were a year younger and were currently going through a quarter life crisis because you felt like you were switching majors too late. Jeno managed to reassure you that it was fairly normal to switch, especially when you already had engineering classes completed to stay ahead.

When you both got to the lecture hall, Jeno was surprised that you stuck by his side. He half-expected you to ditch him for a friend you ran into. And although you did run into a friend, you still sat next to Jeno.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel proud about that.

Actually, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling at all, but two things were running through Jeno’s head: you were very pretty, and you were probably going to be the death of him.

Later that night, Jeno realized that he had to prepare for war at the dinner table.

“And you know what Lover Boy did after that?” Jaemin jested. “He ran with the girl! Dude thought this was his K-drama moment.”

Sometimes, he found meals with his housemates to be insufferable.

Donghyuck and Jaemin were currently giving Renjun the rundown of what had happened. Jeno, on the other hand, had never wanted to die so bad. Maybe it was some sort of curse, but there seemed to be a pattern of bully victims in the households being the men who were interested in a girl.

“I won’t lie,” Renjun started, turning to look at Jeno, “I got secondhand embarrassment listening to that.”

“Thanks Renjun,” Jeno replied flatly.

“Did you ever find out what happened between her and that dude?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno recalled their conversation after class was over. He had mentioned the topic very vaguely, and then you went off on a tangent about how the guy was hitting on you at a party, and then you found out he had a girlfriend as he was practically begging you for sex. Thankfully, nothing had happened, but you were very unsettled that he was shamelessly cheating on his girlfriend.

When Jeno asked if you were going to tell his girlfriend, a coy smile spread across your lips before you showed him the text messages you sent her.

“Just some idiot trying to keep her quiet after he was trying to get in her pants,” Jeno replied, disgusted, “and he has a girlfriend.”

“Some people are just grown adults with the brains of a child,” Renjun muttered, shaking his head. Once the slightly uncomfortable silence settled—one that Jeno assumed was out of respect for your unfortunate situation—Renjun cleared his throat and asked, “So, is she nice?”

“Nice?” Jeno frowned. “Well, from what I noticed—yeah.”

“Renjun just wants to know if you’d cuff her,” Jaemin clarified, looking down as if he was more invested in his Chipotle bowl than his housemate’s love life.

“That’s not what I meant!” Renjun protested, but then he turned to Jeno again. “But, uh… would you?”

It wasn’t like Jeno hadn’t thought about that question eventually coming up, but he had just met you and wasn’t keen on answering right away. While you seemed sweet, there was still a lot that Jeno didn’t know about you. He was never the type to rush into relationships, which is why his situationships in the past never worked out; they always got tired of waiting for Jeno to make a move.

That was probably something he should be working on.

“I’m happy being single,” he answered, “and I like our little bachelor pact, save for Renjun.”

“Gee, thanks,” Renjun muttered.

“You should invite her out with us,” Donghyuck replied, and Jeno knew that was just his way of saying he was going to tease them ruthlessly.

He chewed on his salad, thoughtful. “I think I’ll hang out with her one-on-one first.”

Lee Jeno was a man of his word, so when you showed up to Structural Design a week later, you had been successfully enrolled in the class.

You slid in the empty seat next to Jeno with a grin. “I owe you big time.”

If this was some formality, Jeno felt worse and worse by your actions. He appreciated your kindness, but he wasn’t ready to break the news that he might have accidentally left out. He felt like Adam in Michaelangelo’s The Creation of Adam, except God wasn’t reaching toward Jeno to breathe life into him; Jeno was desperately trying to get the higher power to pull him out of this horrifying situation.

Perhaps you were starting to notice, too, based on how the atmosphere in the classroom shifted from its normal lecture days. It was almost obvious with how students were either buried in their notes or frantically flipping through their textbooks.

“I wouldn’t say big time,” Jeno mumbled. He sheepishly grinned before muttering, “I might have forgotten to tell you that we have a midterm today.”

Your face went a little slack.

“What?!”

You looked around you in a panic before slumping back in your seat, both hands covering your face. Jeno wasn’t sure what expression you were wearing behind them, but it couldn’t have been good.

“I’m sorry!” he apologized quickly. “Honest to God—it totally slipped my mind.”

“I’m done for,” you replied, sorrowful. “First official day in this class, and I’m gonna fail.”

Jeno balked. He had shattered any chances of a friendship with you. This would probably be the last time you ever sat next to him again. He tossed around the idea of letting you cheat off him, but Jeno played by the rules; he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he got caught helping someone cheat.

He ended up not being able to say anything to you. Despite how many times he ran through different dialogues in his head, none of them sounded good enough to ease your worries. There was no shortcut to redemption from here, so Jeno was doomed—a little dramatic, too, but mostly just doomed.

He attentively listened as the professor spoke briefly before passing out the exam, trying to ignore the distress that was just emanating from you. He kept his eyes down as he passed you the other exam packet he got, physically swallowing down the guilt that was eating at him. Jeno knew deep down that it wasn’t even that big of a deal, but he felt horrible for potentially ruining your chances of switching into the class.

“Oh, Y/N,” the professor began, grabbing the paper that was in front of you, “since you joined pretty late, I don’t think you’ll be ready for the midterm. I’ll excuse you from this exam, and you can just complete the assignments you’ve missed.”

“Thank you so much,” you gushed. “That’s such a relief to hear.”

Girls were scary, Jeno decided.

One minute you were glaring daggers at him, and then the next you were buzzing with joy. When Jeno shot you a wary look, testing the waters before he could smile, you just smirked back at him and caused him to malfunction. With that, you made your exit, leaving Jeno at a crossroads, not knowing whether to feel relieved or terrified.

Focus, Jeno. Focus on structures and beams.

“I want to remind everyone to show their work on their paper,” the professor reminded, “and, yes, Heeseung, for that last question I do want you all to find the derivation of the equations for the determination of internal forces in the three-hinged arch.”

Piece of cake. Jeno had spent all night studying the stress distribution across beams and the design of its flexural reinforcements, so he was—

Hold on.

After fully processing the words that came out of his professor’s mouth, Jeno was mortified. The sinking feeling in his chest had capsized and fallen into a pit in his stomach.

He studied the wrong chapter.

Jeno was walking out of the lecture hall with sagged shoulders when he heard your voice ring from beside him, “Why the long face?”

He was startled for a moment, wondering why you were even there. He had taken an hour and a half to go over the exam thoroughly before giving up and turning it in, so that was far too much time for you to wait around. Part of him was rather fond at the thought of you waiting around for him, though.

“Probably failed that test,” Jeno replied, as if he was completely unfazed by your presence. “That midterm was not about structures and beams.”

“That’s tough.”

Jeno had to keep himself from glaring at you, but he supposed he was failing by the way you shrank back at his eyes narrowing. “You got it lucky.”

“I just switched in!” you defended.

“Well—yeah, I guess…” Jeno mumbled. He was stuck between wanting to act childish and wanting to numb himself from the pain of failing his test. So, he offered, “Wanna get away for a bit with me?”

“You have class at noon.”

“After that, I mean.”

You blinked at him before responding, “I’m down. Actually, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to hang out because we don’t know each other that well. Might as well get comfy if we’re gonna be classmates, you know?”

Jeno grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“By the way,” you started, “if you had my number, you could’ve just texted me about the midterm.”

“But I don’t—”

“So”—you paused and pulled out a Sharpie from your bag, uncapping it to scribble down your number on Jeno’s hand—“I’ll just give it to you.”

Jeno smiled down at you as you held his hand carefully, writing your number down all the way across his palm. The way your tongue stuck out while you were concentrating was absolutely adorable. Maybe it was him feeling absolutely defeated after that exam or maybe it was the way Jeno could smell the lingering Cocoa Butter Kiss Body Splash coming from you, but he was overtaken by the urge to indulge himself.

Come to think of it, Jeno hadn’t even figured out where he wanted to take you when he proposed it earlier. He had just been speaking his unfiltered thoughts without processing them.

So, like a fool, Jeno blurted out, “Are you down to Netflix and chill?”

You agreed.

It was surprising. Jeno was actually waiting for you to shoot him down. He hadn’t expected you to look up at him with those innocent eyes and nod so cheerfully. For a moment, he was wondering if you had misinterpreted his words, but then you were asking where his house was, so Jeno assumed you had some understanding of the implication.

He made sure that his housemates were away, so he offered up his house. You seemed more than willing to go over even when Jeno informed you that you two would be alone.

He didn’t expect you to take it so literally.

He was baffled that he had actually spent the past four hours watching Shokugeki no Soma with you. Maybe it was the fact that you two were watching a slice of life anime that made it hard to set the mood, but Jeno assumed you got the hint that “Netflix and chill” had a sexual undertone. He wasn’t going to make you uncomfortable by making a move, though, so Jeno sat back and resented how the anime characters were seeing more clothes coming off than he was.

You weren’t supposed to actually chill; you were supposed to jump his bones and show him the light.

On the bright side, Jeno felt better knowing that his housemates weren’t home while you were over. There was a high possibility that Donghyuck would somehow ruin this date or make Jeno feel like he wanted to die. He could almost hear the echoes of his friends laughing at him, and Jeno was certain the lack of action he was getting was making him go crazy.

“They always drop their pants over food,” you commented, snickering at the show of several garments flying off on the screen.

“Makes it hard to believe this is just a slice of life anime,” Jeno replied, and he was a touch bitter that he didn’t use his turn in the conversation for a pickup line instead. “Do you usually watch this genre?”

“Yeah, sometimes. This show’s really popular, though, so I’m excited to watch the rest with my friend.”

Huh? You were supposed to watch it with him.

Maybe this really was supposed to be completely platonic. Jeno was starting to suspect he got the mood wrong earlier and you took his invitation as something friendly. The worst situation was unfolding in front of him right now, and Jeno didn’t know how to salvage it.

Jeno was being stupid. He barely knew you to begin with. How could he expect such a commitment from you?

He raised a brow. “Oh? Do you usually watch with other people then?”

“Not really,” you answered. “I just knew we would be too preoccupied to finish it.”

“Preoccupied? With what?”

Jeno’s mouth went dry when your hand slid onto his knee, and his head started spinning when you dragged your nail up to his thigh. He was finding it hard to figure out what to focus on when you started leaning in closer, too. Your proximity was intoxicating, your touch was driving him crazy, and he couldn’t even breathe properly when you were giving him the bedroom eyes.

“What do you think, Jeno?” you asked with a little giggle. “You’ve been eye-fucking me all night, and I was starting to think you weren’t gonna get around to the chill part of Netflix and chill.”

Holy fuck. Jeno must have saved a kingdom in his past life.

Part of him was amazed that you took four whole hours to make a move on him, but he had no room to complain when he had been holding back the entire time. The other half of him, though, was just itching to tear off your clothes and fuck you into the couch. Jeno wasn’t sure if you liked it rough, and he didn’t want to test the waters after seeing you knock the daylights out of a six-foot-two man.

Plus, he wanted to be gentle with you (for the first time, at least). Although his carnal instincts urged him otherwise, he wanted to treat you like a princess.

“Jeno,” you repeated, hooking your leg around his waist and sliding onto his lap. Jeno was taken aback when you straddled him, immediately moving his hands to grab your waist. You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward you, whispering in his ear, “Make it up to me and fuck my brains out.”

Scratch being gentle.

It appeared that you weren’t as soft and pliable as he had thought.

“God, you’re driving me crazy,” Jeno growled before grabbing the back of your neck and pressing his lips to yours. He was delighted by your muffled whimper, feeling more encouraged when you tugged his hair. Jeno slid his tongue past your lips, coaxing you to deepen the kiss further. He pulled away a little to murmur against your lips, “Want me to go slow?”

You shook your head, shuddering at the close proximity and your hot breaths fanning against each other. “I don’t wanna go slow,” you whispered.

Although you were so insistent on Jeno being rough with you, he was still gentle when he replied, “Whatever pace you want.” He brushed your loose hair out of your face. The eager look on your face just made him want to tease you. “You sure you can take it?”

You nodded once more, and Jeno grabbed ahold of your hips, rocking them slowly against his. You started to match his rhythm perfectly, whining with each roll of your hips that caused your cunt to rub against his growing bulge. He paused for a moment as he tugged your shorts down, making you lift your hips so he could remove them. There was a timbre in Jeno’s voice when he told you he was going to go harder, and all you could do was grab onto the front of his shirt and beg for more. In a twisted way, he liked having you so helpless on his lap.

Jeno’s lips met yours once more in a fit of passion, tongue sliding against yours as his fingers dug into your waist. He switched positions, flipping you over so that your back was on the couch and he was hovering over you.

The moment Jeno dragged his fingers from your hips to the front of your underwear, he noticed you squirming instantly. The sight made his lips curl into a smirk, not halting his slow, torturous motions with his fingers. Barely grazing his hands against your cunt, and Jeno already had you whining for him.

“Feels good,” you breathed out. Jeno could tell you were playing it up just to get more, and he had to appreciate the effort you were putting in. “Jeno, please…” you trailed off, hands reaching down to slowly trace the veins on his hand.

“Hm? You like my fingers?” he asked, feigning sympathy.

His voice was honey in your ears, and you were melting at the very words. Jeno was startled when you nodded, pulling his hand up so that you could suck on his fingers—so that you could show him how badly you wanted him. He stared at your lips wrapped around his digits in complete awe. Your tongue moving around his fingers was making him go crazy; it burned like a fire, like a sin. It completely doused Jeno’s fiery confidence, leaving him gawking at you.

You took the lead this time, pressing your lips to Jeno’s swiftly. What started chaste and gentle soon turned languid and hot, with Jeno chasing the taste of your tongue each time.

There was something he felt when he made out with girls in the past. It was this hazy, clouded daze in his head, like he couldn’t think straight. This time, however, Jeno had never been so alert and clear-headed. Sure, his thoughts were mainly composed of tearing your clothes off, but he was so grounded in the moment, wanting it to last for as long as it could.

When Jeno pulled away, you were both staring at each other with blown-out pupils and swollen lips. Jeno was praying his flushed cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt.

He liked your pretty lips far too much to rush things, but he agreed he would be rough. Jeno was, at his core, a man of his word.

“I’m gonna fuck you against the wall.”

“Huh?”

While you were staring at him with wide eyes, Jeno shifted off the couch to scoop you up, holding you steady by your thighs. You were clearly shocked by his strength, yelping initially before wrapping your arms and legs around him. Jeno appreciated how adaptable you were when you started stringing kisses from the corner of his lip to his jaw.

He had your back up against the wall, and his own body was pressed flush against yours.

The bed was no longer an option. Jeno was too drunk on your taste to think about moving all the way to his room, and he didn’t even care if Jaemin were to walk inside right now. (Maybe he would feel some shame if it were Donghyuck or Renjun, though; he knew he would never hear the end of it from those two.)

Clothes were taken off, strewn aside, and Jeno couldn’t help but smirk as he circled the pad of his thumb around your bare nipple, admiring how beautiful you looked when you were fully nude. You helped Jeno with taking off his own clothes, as well, and he grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose.

Although Jeno had reiterated several times that he would go rough, he was still a softie at heart.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t go hard, though. This was just the build-up, and Jeno lived for the foreplay.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, peppering featherlight kisses to your lips, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

His lips traveled down your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along its column until he reached your collarbone. Jeno’s teeth razed the tender skin, sucking delicately until he left bruises down your neck and along your shoulders.

You swallowed, instinctively bringing your hand up to tug his hair. “What if someone sees?” you asked.

Jeno hardly even flinched at the possibility. “Let them.”

There was a shift in the air, and maybe it was because of the thought that crossed Jeno’s head—that you didn’t want anyone to know what you two were getting up to. He started biting harder. Sucking harder.

“Why?” he asked between love bites. He let his tongue graze over your bruised skin. “You don’t want them to?”

You shook your head quickly, hips stuttering to a stop. You looked Jeno dead in the eye.

“No, I do.”

Jeno sighed quietly—a little happily, if you were able to pick up on that—and he tugged his boxers down so that his cock sprang out. You marveled at his size, and that only made Jeno’s ego inflate further.

“You want it?” he mumbled in your ear. “Want me buried inside that tight cunt of yours?”

You whined at his words, which turned Jeno on even more. He thought he would go crazy if he couldn’t push himself inside you soon. His cock was already throbbing painfully.

Your eyes were screwed shut. “Please, Jeno,” you breathed out. “Want it so bad.”

“Look at me and tell me what you want me to do.”

Jeno was amused as your eyes fluttered open, half-lidded but still meeting his gaze. He continued the torturous roll of his hips as he waited for your answer, even teasing your clothed cunt with the head of his cock. He was itching to tear off the fabric that was holding him back.

You hummed. “Can you do something for me?”

Jeno leaned in and whispered against the shell of your ear, “Anything.”

“I want you to eat me out.”

It was as if some beast deep within Jeno had been waiting for your confirmation, waiting to snap.

He wasn’t sure if he was testing the waters or diving in head-first anymore. Nevertheless, Jeno started kissing down your body, making his way from your chest, to your stomach, to your hips, and down to your inner thighs. Every breathless whimper from you encouraged him further, and Jeno was ready to give you what you wanted already.

Unfortunately for you, Jeno was an absolute tease.

His palms gripped the back of your thighs, sliding forward until they were gripping your hips. He bit down on the lace of your underwear and dragged it down your legs, looking up at you with a smirk as he did, enjoying the flustered look on your face.

“Want my fingers, too?” Jeno asked, positioning himself and spreading your legs apart more. You were looking at him like you were surprised that he was offering both, and all Jeno could do was grin.

“Please,” you begged.

Jeno licked one long stripe along your lips, hot and wet and messy. It was like the first taste of poison that spurred him to drink more. Your hips started squirming at the contact, and he had to push them back against the wall. He moved back up to kiss your clit, ghosting his lips along your folds. However, Jeno wasn’t satisfied by your stifled sighs and whines; he knew you could be louder if you let yourself go.

So, Jeno grabbed ahold of one of your legs, ignoring your yelp of surprise, and he waited for you to balance on the other before he draped it over his shoulder. This gave him a better angle to devour you, so he dove right in, licking and sucking on your cunt like a starved man.

That got you moaning, and Jeno felt proud that he could make you feel that good. He settled for sucking on your clit gently, showing special attention to that little ball of nerves until you were sobbing and crying out his name. His cock was aching by this point, and he didn’t want you to be sore before he fucked you, so Jeno decided to finally aid your incoming orgasm with his fingers.

He went back to eating out your cunt, using his fingers to rub your clit in precise circles. Your cries were seared into his memory, like a melody he couldn’t escape. It was making him feel like he was on fire, inciting a groan from the back of his throat.

The desperation was thick in your voice. “I-I’m so close…”

“I got you,” Jeno mumbled against your cunt, and he slid two fingers inside you just as you came.

He guided you throughout your orgasm, continuing to kitten lick at your engorged clit and fingering you as you rode out your high. Jeno could feel your walls contracting, and the feeling must have been so intense for you because he felt your legs starting to shake as well. Your other leg was on the verge of buckling and collapsing, so Jeno held you steady by gripping your knee.

“So good for me,” Jeno moaned, “so fucking good and obedient for me, doll.”

This was what Jeno loved about wall sex. He loved watching you struggle to stay upright as he fucked you out. He loved the tension despite being in such an uncomfortable position. He loved feeling you grab onto him for leverage since there was nothing else you could do.

“How was that?” Jeno asked once the pulsing of your walls slowed to a twitch. He gently removed your leg from his shoulder and stood up so that he was cornering you against the wall again. “You want more, don’t you?”

Dazed, you bit down on your lower lip, nodding dumbly at his question. You weren’t even trying to speak, though, so Jeno gripped your jaw.

“Words, angel,” he ordered.

You whimpered, gripping the front of his shirt. “I need you to fuck me already.”

Gaze on your lips, Jeno only nodded before sealing your mouth with his again. You sighed into his mouth blissfully, sliding your hands up to wrap around his neck once more. Jeno scooped you up and brought you back to the couch.

You giggled. “TV’s still on.”

“You’re gonna have to be extra loud for me, then,” Jeno replied, grinning as he got on top of you. He ran his hands along the curves of your body, exhaling slowly in utter admiration. “You ready for me?”

“Of course,” you breathed out.

He reached for his wallet first to pull out the spare condom he kept inside. When he was taking it out, you raised a brow at him.

“Is that a condom?” you asked.

“No—seasoning packet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Very funny.”

Jeno smiled at you before he used his teeth to tear the wrapper off, sliding the rubber onto his cock. Once he rolled it onto his length, he looked at you to make sure you were still okay with this. The way you reached for his cock, pumping it once and rousing a groan from Jeno, though, was very telling.

Jeno licked two of his fingers and brought them down to rub against your folds, smirking at how you squirmed and whined for him. He pulled away and pressed his fingers against your lips, urging you to open up. Soon, you wrapped your pretty lips around his fingers and sucked on them obediently. His cock twitched, as if it was telling him to hurry the fuck up already. Jeno thought he would never be able to get tired of the breathtaking sight.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he groaned.

With that, Jeno pulled his fingers away and leaned down to peck your lips softly before he slid inside you. Your eyes widened and a gasp tore its way past your lips, and the way Jeno was splitting you apart made you feel like fine china shattering into pieces. Jeno himself was overwhelmed by the sensation; the way you sucked him in was bringing his entire world down.

God, now Jeno understood why men went to war over women in the past. This was earth-shattering.

Jeno removed your legs from where they were wrapped around his waist, and he pushed them up so that they were closer to your chest. He groaned as he bottomed out inside you, relishing each cry and whimper that fell from your lips. The way your walls tightened around his cock made him feel desperate more; one taste and Lee Jeno wanted your everything.

“That’s it,” he grunted. “Take it—take it all, doll.”

Jeno started moving inside you at a steady pace once you were adjusted to his size. He pulled your hands off of him, interlocking your fingers with his and holding them above you. Watching your gaze turn lustful and your tits bounce as Jeno pounded into you was quite the sight. He fucked into you harder, slowing down for more precise thrusts.

“F-faster,” you begged, eyes trained where the two of you were connected, where his cock was buried deep in your cunt.

“You want me to ruin you, huh?” Jeno questioned in a low voice, his voice so featherlight that he wondered if you could hear it over the sound of skin slapping. “Want me to fuck you ‘till you’re sore.”

“Yes—fuck, yes.”

Jeno sped up his thrusts, groaning as his hips slammed against yours. He repositioned himself so that he was sitting up more, and it was mostly so that Jeno could push down on your stomach as he fucked you to see if he could feel his cock moving inside of you. When he did feel it moving under your stomach, Jeno’s cock twitched inside of you, causing you to cry his name out.

You didn’t verbalize it, but Jeno could tell you were reaching your orgasm once again. The way you started to seize up, mouth parting as your eyes were lost trying to make sense of the blinding pleasure, was enough for Jeno to draw the conclusion that you were very close. He, too, felt his pleasure teetering over the edge, daring to spill over.

So, with one last groan, he buried his face in your neck and came. Good could hardly scratch the surface on how it felt. Jeno felt like he had experienced an explosion of pleasure after holding back for so long.

However, his job wasn’t done; he still had to take care of you. Jeno grabbed ahold of your hips firmly and fucked into you at a swifter pace, trying to get you to your orgasm despite his sore and aching cock. The overstimulation had him practically whimpering as he fucked you harder.

You were finally at your peak, coming undone in front of him with your eyes rolling back and your jaw helplessly gone slack. Jeno smirked, wondering if he had fucked you dumb, and his smile faded when he realized he probably had. He held you in his arms, kissing your cheeks gently as you twitched and squirmed, fighting the waves of pleasure that were starting to subside.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a soft murmur, stroking your hair. “You were so good for me.”

Your chest was heaving like you had just run a marathon. “That was the best sex of my life.”

“Don’t stroke my ego.”

“I’m serious.”

(After that, Jeno invited you to wash up with him, which vaguely translated into shower sex. He helped you wash your hair and scrub your body with soap, slathering the suds all over your body. Then, Jeno pushed you against the wall after you washed off, kissing your neck with vigor before turning you around.

Jeno groped your tits as he slid inside you, taking you from the back. He pounded into you for a few minutes before you were going limp against the wall, needing Jeno to hold you up and keep you grounded.)

You were so sore and fucked-out by the end that Jeno was worried he had gone too hard on you. He helped you dry yourself with the towel and dried your hair with the hairdryer once he gave you clothes to change into. He even ordered take-out for the two of you and had dinner with you in his bed. You two talked about architecture and your dreams, and then you started talking about what shows you wanted to watch next.

Jeno was trying to decode your words in case you were talking about sex positions, but, no, you were legitimately talking about Netflix shows.

He offered you sleeping over, mostly because he didn’t want you to leave nor did he want to sleep alone after such a sensual night. Thankfully, you accepted his offer and Jeno found himself spooning you in bed. He nestled his chin in the crook of your neck and realized he had never felt so cozy and relaxed with someone in his arms. (Once he slept over in Minjeong’s bed and she kicked him out in her sleep.)

“Hey,” you whispered. Jeno hummed sleepily, acknowledging your words, and you continued, “Thanks for today. It was a lot of fun.”

Jeno tightened his grip on you. “I had a lot of fun, too.” He moved his lips to your ear. “Maybe we could do this again some other time.”

“I’m free this weekend,” you offered.

“Perfect.”

Jeno smiled and thought about all the new things he could try with you. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take you both four hours to get to business. Jeno spent more time waiting to fuck you on that couch than actually fucking you.

He froze upon a newfound, horrifying realization. You must have noticed him stiffening up because you turned your head a little, looking concerned.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

Jeno swallowed thickly. “I just realized we broke the ‘no sex on the couch’ rule.”

This was how the exchanges usually went.

Jeno would make an excuse to come over to your place—something along the lines of “we didn’t finish that show,” which was completely bullshit because you two never finished shows—and then he would fuck you on every surface imaginable. This time around, however, you were going over to the Bitch Hunters’ residence, and Jeno was absolutely terrified because he would be breaking the one unspoken rule that didn’t make it to the contract.

No sex on the couch.

(He broke this rule the first time, actually. He felt horrible about it and skipped class to deep-clean the couch.)

Sex on the couch was Jeno’s favorite, though. It presented the challenge of finding a way to get into a comfortable position, but it was also so accessible to use. He especially loved being over you so that he could show off how huge his muscles were, and balancing his weight on furniture with minimal surface area was the best way to display that.

It wasn’t that Jeno was scared to bend the rules of the contract—actually, scratch that; he was terrified. He wanted to respect his housemates, and fucking you on the couch that everyone sat on was going against that.

They had to have known that Jeno was planning to have sex on the couch, though. Jaemin had already teased him about his “Netflix and chill” date this morning, and everyone else decided to clear out of the house for tonight. Renjun was at his girlfriend’s place, Donghyuck was hanging out with Yoo Jimin, and Jaemin was getting munchies with a friend. Jeno felt like he had unknowingly sexiled them, and he felt a little guilty about it.

When you showed up around thirty minutes after his housemates left, Jeno couldn’t help but think about how thin the material of your dress was. Naturally, all thoughts of protecting the poor couch disappeared (again).

He swooped down to peck your lips before you walked in, and then Jeno spent the next five minutes wondering if he was even supposed to greet his hookup with a peck on the lips. You both wound up settling on a random episode of Never Have I Ever. It wasn’t like either of you were actually interested in the show; it was just easy to ignore as it played in the background.

(However, you told Jeno earlier that you two had to watch Don’t Fuck With Cats, and that he would face the consequences if he fucked you senseless before then. So, Jeno complied and put the show on.)

Five minutes of catching up and you two ended up making out on the couch, Jeno’s hand sliding to your lower back and pulling you flush against his body. What first was kissing turned to a heated makeout session, and that quickly turned to Jeno rolling his hips against your clothed cunt. It was almost painful how hard his cock was in his sweatpants.

He grunted quietly. “Fuck, that’s it,” Jeno growled out, his thrusts turning sharper and more eager. All he wanted to do was tear your clothes off and start fucking you; dry humping was only doing so much to satiate his libido.

“I thought we… were watching—a-ah!—Don’t Fuck With C-Cats,” you got out, whimpering each time Jeno thrusted against you at a brutal pace.

You were definitely insane, Jeno deliberated, or maybe it was the entire female population in general. You decked a beefy-looking man with a stack of engineering paper, willingly chose to switch into architectural engineering, and now you were thinking about a serial killer documentary right before Jeno was about to fuck the daylights out of you.

“We can watch it later,” he growled, pinning your hips down against the couch. “I’m a little preoccupied right now.”

You whined, arching your back and hiking up the skirt of your dress so that Jeno could simper at your soaked underwear. He could tell he was embarrassing you, and, better yet, he could tell it was turning you on.

“Jeno.” You had never called out his name so seriously, punctuating it like a slap to the face. It pulled him out of the fog, looking right into your eyes. “Fuck me already.”

“Anything for you.”

He wasted no time undressing you, tugging your underwear past your ankles and helping you pull your dress off. When you were fully naked, it was your turn to help Jeno remove his clothes. Part of him swelled with joy when he noticed that you didn’t shy away from him once, like you were finally perfectly comfortable being so vulnerable in front of Jeno.

“Choke me,” you pleaded. It was completely out-of-the-blue for Jeno, but it had surely been on your mind for a while.

Oh. That was new.

“You’re such a weirdo,” he chastised, but the both of you were very well aware of his cock twitching at your words.

“I’m not a weirdo,” you defended, then smirked. “Plus, I can feel how excited you are to try it out.”

“Got me there.”

Jeno wrapped his fingers around your neck, not adding any pressure at first so it was more for decoration. Then, he squeezed the sides gently, watching your lips part in surprise. Jeno rubbed your cunt to prep you, and he slowly increased the pressure on your neck when he felt you getting wetter. Then, he started rubbing the head of his cock along your folds.

He called out your name in that low register of his when he slid right into you, holding your legs apart so that you wouldn’t squirm. It was slow and sensual, but the moment he felt your walls throbbing around his cock, Jeno couldn’t hold back anymore. By the way you rocked your hips against his, it was clear that you didn’t want him to hold back either.

“J-Jeno, you feel—”

Jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, smirking at the half-dazed, half-stunned look in your eyes. “Angel, did you forget you’re supposed to be quiet? My roommates might be out of the house, but I still have neighbors.”

You nodded, eyes practically glowing at his words. Jeno liked how you could switch up from bratty to obedient in seconds, and he would never admit it, but he got a kick out of you being so compliant with him. It was the biggest power trip for him.

He fucked you deep and slow, and you didn’t beg him to go faster or try to get yourself off as fast as you could. It was like you were enjoying the moment with him, enjoying feeling so connected like this.

Jeno felt something rising to the surface, like it was about to boil over. He didn’t have time to be rational or think straight when he was so immersed in pleasure, but he felt so vulnerable and weak with you in his arms.

Then, your walls were pulsating around his cock, squeezing him in such a way that he was cumming next. Jeno groaned lowly against your skin, whispering sweet nothings as you sobbed throughout your orgasm. Somehow, the intimacy made Jeno’s orgasm feel ten times more powerful.

“I want this,” he breathed out, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I want you, Y/N—want you more than anything else.”

Jeno’s lips trembled against your skin. He was terrified for your response, terrified that you could end things right now. He contemplated getting off of you and clearing the air, but something told him to stop lying to you about what he truly wanted from this.

Seconds passed. Minutes. Jeno’s heart was pounding because you two were just holding each other, you stroking his hair in soothing motions while he laid on top of you.

After several agonizing minutes, you finally whispered, “I want you, too.”

You laid like that for hours, neither of you moving or saying anything. You two just listened to each other’s heartbeats in utter silence, and it was comforting.

Other than the fact that Jeno was starting to realize that he was developing real feelings for you, and that made losing you feel a lot scarier.

Before Jeno was about to announce to his housemates that he was going to ask you out, he had to make a formal apology. So, being the honest man he was, Lee Jeno got down on his knees while his three friends were watching a SpongeBob SquarePants rerun.

They were all, of course, concerned for their friend. Sure, Jeno did stupid things here and there (and it was often Renjun that asked him if he the clouds he floated in were even in our atmosphere), but, this time, they were all staring at him in sheer confusion.

Jaemin raised a brow. “Jeno? Are you on drugs?”

“I wanna apologize to you guys,” Jeno said, raising his head to meet their eyes. “I fucked Y/N on the couch.”

Donghyuck gaped at him. “Wh—”

“Twice,” Jeno admitted.

Renjun’s jaw dropped—almost comically—and he grabbed the arm of the couch to lift himself from the seat. “This couch? Why would you tell us that information while we’re sitting on it?”

“I cleaned it with the steam cleaner right after! Both times!” Jeno added quickly to ease their worries. Renjun sighed in relief and sat back down on the cushion. “I felt so bad after breaking our contract, so I did a deep clean after Y/N left.”

“I really appreciate your honesty, Jeno,” Renjun started, “but, honestly, I could’ve gone my entire life without knowing Y/N got railed on the couch that we’re watching fucking SpongeBob on.”

Jeno grinned sheepishly. “My bad.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Also, I’m planning on asking Y/N out soon, and I sort of need your guys’ help.”

“Good!” Donghyuck huffed. “You better go out with her after all the emotional trauma you’ve put poor Larry through.”

Jaemin frowned. “Who’s Larry?”

“Our couch, Jaemin.”

“Who named our couch after Harry Styles’ and Louis Tomlinson’s ship name?”

“Our couch is no longer named Larry,” Donghyuck announced, mortified.

Renjun rolled his eyes at his friends, and he turned to Jeno once again. “What do you need us to help you with?”

Jeno sucked in a sharp breath. “Well…”

Lee Jeno wanted to ask you out in the most romantic way. His gesture had to be absolutely golden—something you would remember for the rest of your life. His plan was almost perfect; he had sent you on a very small wild goose chase while he was setting up the last part of his scavenger hunt for you. It was composed of all of the places that reminded him of you.

Jaemin was stationed at the place on campus where Jeno first met you. The clue he sent you was pretty straightforward: Go to the place where you decked that creep A.K.A the first place we met. When Jeno received the text from Jaemin that he had given you the bouquet of flowers and the next clue, the second part of the scavenger hunt was underway.

Renjun was situated in front of the building where Jeno hit on you for the first time. Not that this clue was hard or anything, but he knew that you would recognize the classroom you waited outside of while Jeno failed his midterm. (He later wondered if that was probably more of a traumatic memory for him, and perhaps he had miscalculated the romantic aspect of this plan). To his relief, Renjun was able to hand you the box of chocolates along with the third and final clue.

The paper slip read Netflix and chill, and Jeno was sure you would know exactly where to go. Donghyuck was standing outside the house with a key for you. Jeno had set up a picnic for the two of you in the living room, complete with candles and your favorite movies ready to watch on the TV. He had also prepared a slideshow of his favorite moments with you; it was cheesy, but he really wanted to show you he cared. All he had to do now was hang up the letters he had drawn and cut out that read “Will You Go Out With Me?”

His plan was almost perfect.

His mistake, however, was asking Donghyuck for help.

jeno: can you stall y/n for 10 min before you let her in the house? im almost done

hyuck: aight i’ll let her in

jeno: WTFFF DID U EVEN READ WHAT I SENT

To his horror, Jeno heard the key click before the door opened. He didn’t even want to turn and see you standing at the doorway, still mentally cursing out Donghyuck for half-assing his job and getting the hell out of there so that he wouldn’t have to face Jeno’s wrath.

You sounded bewildered when you read aloud, “Will… you… go?”

Jeno was not able to hang up the last three words in time.

So, he grabbed each word and held two in either hand, and he held up the middle one with his teeth. Jeno finally turned to you and kneeled under the words on the wall, hoping this had cleared everything up for good. This was probably the messiest confession considering he had put so much thought and effort into it, but Jeno hoped you would at least like the apple pie he made.

“Will you go me with out.”

Jeno switched around the papers he was holding.

“Will you go out with me?” you corrected. Jeno looked at you expectantly before you broke into a fit of giggles, still clutching your rose bouquet and box of chocolates tightly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for ages!”

A flood of relief washed through his body. Jeno felt each and every nerve of his physically unravel and settle down. He had been so on-edge about asking you out that he didn’t realize how instinctively tense he was these past few days.

“I really like you, Y/N,” Jeno said, smiling, “and I wanna get to know you better, so can we graduate from Netflix and chill to actual dates?”

You grinned. “I like the sound of that.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I suppose a picnic at home is the perfect place to start.”

Jeno slung his arm around your waist and started explaining all the dishes he made for you, thrilled at the way your eyes lit up at every single one. He sat with you on the blanket and helped you taste from each of the plates before you picked one to start with. (You really liked the apple pie, and it made Jeno swell with joy.)

It was true that Jeno probably didn't have all of his columns and beams in place to form the structure of a relationship. All this time, he thought he was the one who was supposed to set the foundation and lay the materials out. Now, though, he realized that he could build up the framework with you, and it wasn’t so bad having someone who could understand him through and through.

Lee Jeno loved the structure and analysis that went into architectural engineering. He loved the calculations and hands-on work he had to do in order to solve a problem.

He loved building things—working toward creating his own future, his own life. Jeno preferred taking control in that regard.

Now, though, he was more than happy to share the reins with you.

Lee Donghyuck and Na Jaemin sat at a park bench, contemplating getting high off their asses to distract themselves from how they felt like complete losers. After helping Jeno with his plan and getting the confirmation text from their friend that it actually worked out, the two boys realized that they were now fighting for second-to-last place.

“You know why the two of you haven’t gotten girlfriends yet?” Renjun reprimanded them earlier. “It’s because you guys keep seeing this as a competition.”

Donghyuck was an honest man, most of the time. Although it made him sound like a shitty person, it was true that he had a competitive streak. The fact that Renjun and Jeno were kicking his ass was pride-crushing. He couldn’t believe he, Lee Donghyuck, was vying for last place with Jaemin.

The two bitch hunters with the short end of the stick felt pathetic.

That being said, it wasn’t like Donghyuck wasn’t happy for Renjun or Jeno. In fact, he had been rooting for them the entire time and encouraging them to ask out the girls they liked. That’s what friends did; they supported each other until the very end. He wasn’t praying for their downfall, either. If Donghyuck truly wanted someone to fail, he would personally be involved in their downfall, and that wasn’t the case at all.

It was shitty—he knew that. Donghyuck couldn’t shake off the feeling of wanting to be first. He was too competitive for his own good, even if it was fun sometimes.

“Are we even gonna get girlfriends?” Jaemin questioned. “You know, we’ve lived an easy life—getting by with our pretty privilege. Maybe we were doomed to fail because we’ve been so careless.”

Donghyuck groaned. “Don’t say that! I’ll go crazy if I lose.” He sighed softly and pressed his lips together. “You know, I think we’ll be just fine. It would be criminal if we didn’t get cuffed.”

“You’re right,” Jaemin replied. “I’m a catch.”

“Well, I’m actually not so sure about you, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jaemin laughed, pushing at his friend’s shoulder playfully.

That was how it was. Donghyuck never meant any of the jabs he made at his friends. He always sincerely supported them behind that joking facade of his. He truly did think Jaemin would find someone. Why wouldn’t he? Jaemin was probably one of the most attractive guys in their year. Once he got past all of the commitment issues and flightiness, he would have no problems cuffing that special someone.

“You know, I think we need to go out more,” Donghyuck said. “We need to start going to parties again.”

His friend raised a brow. “For what?”

“To meet people,” he explained. “It’s unlikely that we’re gonna fall for someone in our class like Jeno—”

Jaemin huffed. “Unlikely? Why?”

“Because you barely even go to your in-person classes, dumbass.”

“Point taken.”

“Renjun, on the other hand,” Donghyuck continued, “met his girlfriend at a party, and if he can do it, so can we.”

Jaemin nodded along to his words, holding out a hand for Donghyuck to shake. He took Jaemin’s hand and shook it firmly, as if this was a business deal they had just finalized.

“Speaking of parties,” Donghyuck started, “Yoo Jimin’s throwing a party tomorrow, and I think we should go.”

“Dude, she doesn’t want you.”

“I just said we’re going to her party!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “I’m not expecting anything, but if she happens to be into me, then that’s a win.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Keep dreaming.”

Deep down, though, both boys knew that Donghyuck was very capable of chasing after what he wanted. If who he wanted was Yoo Jimin, he was 100% confident he would successfully cuff her if he tried hard enough.

For now, though, Donghyuck watched the water ripple across the pond alongside his best friend.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE ON THIS ONE !!! let’s all celebrate league player no bitches lee jeno attaining his bitch <33 also half this fic was pure self indulgence and filth but yk it’s all for the vibes >:) i am very very excited to write hyuck’s and would start now but it’s late and i am using my energy to post this muah muah !! thank you for all the support on this series and the hype for this fic! i have been soooo blown away by the comments and reblogs and asks!! <3 

GENERAL TAG LIST ▸ @leeknowsredeyeliner @wownajaemin @geniejunn @huangberryyy @halbae @sehunniepot @jjaeyoonoh @subhyuck @itskkung @channiedani @jaemboi64 @n0hyuck @hyuckinx @domhyuckie @justhereforimagines @daegalfangirl @nctevia @legbouk @wanlore @wannabeursugarbaby @mippidimop @bockhyun @yuhuzu @tacojisung @66hycks @jenosbliss @punnshine @jenoxygen @tiramisubox @baehaechannie @studywoo @kkakkdugi @jenoslutie @luvenshiti @uglyratlmao @vantxx95 @jenlvr01 @njmcockring @swimmingkpopblog @aliceinwhateverland @bbyjayb @sayyysss @keemburley @luvjeongjaehyun @cosmicwintr @lenonie @smolpeyy @dnylwoo @nayuinchains @rbf-aceu @aerev @soobin-chois @lunarlxve @zelqueenofspades @so-showme-ill-shownu @nominsgirl @oohyansi @hiqhkey @rosiie @bellepluie @aminihhj @yixingtion @lumineuxes @lachimolalas-posts @iveivory @pckeia @jenorenle @rioderiver @fairysunooo @eternalhongshine @alyselenai @multihoe-net @ttae-yong @count-your-shadows @kindawack @jaeymark @nanascupid @yunopouts @youngandkuripot @cuteejeno @secretnovelliteraturenerd @hyuckscore @aadya-alaris @shawkneecaps @pewpewpwe00 @yourelate @jenojaeminrenjun @deaaaan @chezzontop @chims-kookies @bffbangtan @donutswithjaminthemiddle @lynniensfw @bellamendoza @spicyutas @bethm5 @bananaxsydeee @carelessshootanonymous @otchae @staysstrays @galifreyp0tt3rh3ad @jenoleeaesthetic @fullsunld @jusaminki @alexameliamg @hwasatiny @stealercore @jae-bam @airpodbaekuwu @jenosbunny @lovecherrytion @justalildumpling @fkwplctmjz @flower-lise @bmgyubear @evergreeneyesx @tamakofever @sunnylixxx @yunhon0​ @mingilingy​ @deobitiful​ @jsjcue​ @hyckio​ @liyinzen​ @baehaechannie​ @soobinscutedimples​ @sundamariis​ @popunkzz​ @baekhyunstruly​ @yunho-1999​ @artgukk​​ @rinjeolmi​​ @lmkworld​​ @baekhyuns-lipchain​​ @kpop-bambi​​ @its-taeil-time​ @beomgyus-crayola​ @brightestmark​ @friseealamode​

FIC TAG LIST ▸ @the-borahae-jj​ @meowniee​ @sovlidago​ @cdellee​ @tacojisung​ @seonghwaverse​ @taestrwbrry​ @chansbabygirl02​ @jinnieyeolele​ @verybeautifullee​ @ilvaussie​ @bellamendoza​ @etaerealboy​ @kaislinging-slasher01​ @beomgyus-crayola​  @rbf-aceu​ @rollypollypoing​​ @n0hyuck​​ @ti--red​​ @vip-access​​ @cathyoliveros10​​ @kireijae​​

CAN’T TAG ▸ @irrealitys @lilacboba @jdance01 @greentealattae97 @betweenminds @heestoe @yongsfiles @basskickswingingbrucelee @sycasz @nachotequilaqueso @artsenthusiastk77 @luminousannie @themessigurl @markleesluvur @nothingwasnotfound @morklee127 @untitled-blog9836 @slowlyweepingnacho @thatdreamerbxtch @moonlightgreleric @hyuckschocoball @nanajaemin @peachydreamies @sabrina22892-blog

#nct scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct dream smut #jeno x reader #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #lee jeno #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct oneshots #nct dream oneshots #jeno imagines #jeno oneshots #00 line hard hours #00 line smut #nct dream hard hours #nct hard hours

[desperate-gay]

Honestly a leah fic with leah being absolutely down and for reader, she has the biggest crush, she thinks she’s being subtle but she’s not. Reader knows about and teases leah purposely, leah still thinking she’s being subtle

Obvious

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

“Ooo comparing hand sizes, aye? When’s the wedding?” Lucy teases, resting her arms on the top of your seat. The blonde next to you turns around and glares at her but stops hearing your laugh. Leah’s glare softens when she sees you smile, making Lucy snicker.

“Trust me, if there’s a wedding, you’re not invited.” Leah quips back.

“Hey hey hey, no need to be hasty, fringy. If you just make a mov-“ Keira stands up and slaps her hand over her mouth. You raise your eyebrows with a look of amusement, seeing everyone try to cover up your friend’s obvious feelings for you.

Of course, you know about Leah’s feelings. She doesn’t make it hard to see. The only thing that sucks is that she doesn’t see your obvious feelings for her. You’re too headstrong to make the first move; you want Leah to get the guts to do something. It’s very funny having to see all of your friends tease you two and then try to cover it up right after as if they’re afraid a big secret is being spilled.

“Lucy, for the sake of us all, shut your mouth and lay down,” Keira says and drags her girlfriend to sit down beside her, nodding at Leah, telling her she has no more teasing to deal with anymore.

You smile at the blonde next to you and realize your hands are still pressed against each other. A light blush flushes over Leah’s face when she feels your fingers interlock with hers.

“Do I make you nervous?” Leah whips her head to look at you and sees a slight smile on your face. She opens and closes her mouth not knowing what to say, but she is soon relaxed when she feels your head lay its way on her shoulder. “I like it when you’re all shy.” You whisper so quietly she almost doesn’t catch it.

—

The WSL season has finally started, and you have an away game against Manchester United. The team is heading inside the building in their little groups, most likely gossiping about the random drama that’s happening. You’re talking with Katie as you approach the door when a flash of a person in front of you cuts you off. Focusing your eyes back in front of you, you notice a familiar British blonde holding the door open for you. Without thinking, you quickly lean over and press a kiss on her cheek before continuing to walk into the building.

Leah is star-struck as she puts her hand on the same place your lips meet her skin. She follows you like a lost puppy, letting go of the door causing it to close on the previous person you were talking to.

“Oi! Am I chopped liver?” The Irish woman shouts, throwing her hands in the air with a roll of her eyes. “Ugh. I hate people that are in love.”

—

“Heads up!”

Before you can even register what was called out, a football comes flying at your head, causing you to fall over and wince at the pain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come towards you.” Alessia rambles out from right next to you while you sit up and adjust your blurry vision. You wave her off and she offers you a hand to help you stand up.

“You’re good, I just didn’t hear-“

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?” Someone interrupts you, holding your head and moving it in several different directions to see if you have any marks. You giggle, removing the hands from you, and placing them on the person’s sides.

“Leah, I’m okay. It was just a little hit and I was startled.” You reassured her, making her shoulders slump down and releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Yeah chill out, mate. It’s not like she’s marrying another woman.” Katie says while rolling her eyes at the other defender’s dramatics.

You let out another laugh when you see Leah begin to chase down the other woman and tackle her to the turf. Everyone who was crowded around you dispersed to their previous stations and continued with training.

“Katie, Leah, no biting!”

—

You’re softly humming to the song that's playing on the radio while staring at the buildings you’re passing by out the window. Leah offered you a ride to your house after your ride went off with a certain Australian, apparently completely forgetting of your existence, but you’re not going to complain. It gives you some alone time with the blonde.

“So here we are.” The girl announces. You didn’t even notice you were pulling up to your apartment until now. You turn your attention to the girl on the driver's side and thank her. Before you have a chance to open the door, the locks go off, confusing you right away. As you open your mouth to speak, a hand cups your jaw and pulls you in. Lips latch their way onto yours without any warning, but you easily sink into them and kiss back. When the kiss parts, Leah starts to stumble over her words before you cut her off with a small peck.

“You finally did it.” You smile with your thumbs stroking her tense jaw.

“Wait, what?”

“Leah, you can’t possibly think I haven’t noticed your feelings for me. I just want to know how you and our friends haven’t noticed my feelings for you.” The blonde stares at you with her jaw slack, trying to comprehend everything that just happened inside her car.

After a few seconds of pure silence, she blurts out, “Go on a date with me?”

“Just text me when and where.”

With that, you hop out of the car, grab your gear, and wink at the amazed girl. You can’t wait to finally see what’s to come.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #katie mccabe #lucy bronze #keira walsh #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #england #lionesses #lgbtq

[seeingivy]

it's time to go

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: im sweating.

songs/media mentioned: happiness by taylor swift and it's time to go by taylor swift (not mentioned but name of the chapter!!)

previous part linked here

--

You take a deep breath in as you stand at the shining bright doors of the building, the reflective mirrors at the front showing you your small frame in comparison. You brush down the ends of your dress, ridding your palms of the sweat accumulating as you push through the doors. 

There’s a receptionist sitting at the front, with short black hair who is diligently typing away on the computer. You can see the issue of Vogue, the one the Attack on Titan cast did for season two, placed in a placard at the top of the desk. And when you look around, you see that every Vogue cover you’ve done - the one of you and Sukuna, for your albums - is displayed everywhere. 

Then again. This is a big deal. Surely it’ll be their biggest feature of the year. 

“Alright. Your interview should be up the stairs, in room eleven. They’ll start set-up at twenty and then the interview will start at half-past.” she states, handing you a shiny key-card. 

“Would you happen to know if my request regarding the piano was approved?” 

“I believe so. It should be in the room.” she responds, smiling. 

“Thank you!” you respond. 

You walk up the stairs and find the room, a few workers shuffling around the set. They all give you polite smiles as you walk straight onto the stage, an expensive brown couch on the left and the grand piano you requested on the right. 

You take your backpack off and pull out the box, filled with polaroids all tagged to perfection for your interview, as they all start adjusting the microphones and cameras into place. A shorter, older woman walks up to you, shaking the microphone pack in her hand as she gestures for you to stand up. 

“Hi! Thank you so much for helping me out today. I’m Y/N.” you respond, clipping the pack to the back of your dress. 

“No problem. I’m Leila.” 

You pause. 

“I know you. We-we’ve met before, right?” 

Her face widens in shock as she nods, a bright smile spreading across her face. 

“Yes, that’s right.” she murmurs, voice quiet. 

“It was…god. That was years ago, back when we were doing press for season two. We filmed a video for your daughter, she was asleep and she was a really big fan, right? How is she doing?” 

“She’s doing good. She’s still a big fan of your music.” she says, smiling as she loops the wires through your ears, shuffling your hair behind your ear as she readjusts. 

“That’s sweet. I’m so glad she enjoys it, that-that’s very special to me that she does.” you respond, cheeks warm and something stirring in your chest. 

You take her in full, trying hard to wrack your brain for how she used to look. She’s definitely years older now - five to be exact - but you can’t pinpoint any. No wrinkles, no tiredness - still the same woman you knew. 

But you’re miles away from who you used to be, having aged what feels like eons. You think back to the interview, the compliments you and Eren gave to each other stinging in your mind. 

Eren. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. Not only because you took a chance on me after our first screen test, but every other hiccup along the way was only something I could swallow because of you. You-your steadfast determination and belief in me is something so inspiring, so warm unlike anything else. You’ve always been a safe place for me, somewhere I can always run to when I need someone. I’m so glad we can always be fish together. 

Y/N. You’ve always been able to sense my feelings - my happiness, my frustrations, my pain - without me having to tell you. And you always, always know how to say the right thing to bring me back down to Earth from it all. You make me a better person and I love you for it.

You’re sure you're crying as you look back at Leila, her eyes wide as she reaches forward to wipe the tears. The deep feeling, the sadness sitting so deep in your chest that you’ve been trying to ignore, is suddenly too overwhelming, too loud for you to swallow. 

“I’m so sorry. Was it something I said?” she asks, her look frantic. 

You take her hand in yours, squeezing three times. 

“No. It’s me. I just remembered that interview. What Eren and I had said to each other and it made me a little sad, that’s all.” you respond, wiping your tears against the back of your hand. 

Her face deflates. 

“I’m very sorry for what happened. To the both of you.” 

You sigh. 

“Thank you. I-I appreciate that.” 

“This industry is not kind. To anyone. And having seen how you two were as kids, how genuine,  it’s sad to see what they’ve said to you both. You know that most of it, if any, isn’t your fault. People- they’re cruel. You’re a very brave girl for still coming here.” 

You swallow hard. And hope she still thinks you’re brave at the end of your interview. 

You sit down on the couch, anxiously tucking the ends of your hair towards the back of your ears, as the interviewer walks in, a bright smile on her face. Leila leaves, giving you a thumbs up as she walks away.

“Y/N. Congratulations. I’m Layla. Thank you for finally coming down for your interview.” she states, taking her seat on the couch next to you as they adjust the microphone in front of her. She has a blue box in her hands, which she tucks behind the couch. 

You don’t miss the snub she makes at you for postponing for months on end. You became a triple threat months ago. And your interview - about your career, about your work - was supposed to happen ages ago. 

“Thank you for waiting until I was ready. I can promise you-you won’t be disappointed with what I have for you. What’s that?” 

“It’s for you. We’re saving it for the end of the interview.” she states, giving you a smile. 

You nod, as you brace your knuckles against your own box, the director coming over to give you both directions and stage you properly against the cameras. 

“Hello everyone! My name is Layla Ray and I’m here with Y/N L/N. After a great deal of anticipation, Y/N is finally here, seated with Vogue, for the infamous triple threat interview. We’re going to go through the highs and lows of her career and ultimately discuss what comes with such a great title. Y/N, how are you feeling?” she asks, giving you a bright smile. 

You swallow hard. 

“Thank you, Layla. I’m doing okay. How are you?” 

“I’m great, thank you for asking. This interview has been a long time coming. Six months to be exact. Any particular reason why?” she states, adjusting her tone to be quieter, matching your tone. You can tell she’s a skilled interviewer - the excitement from before dying down as she brings the energy lower. 

“I-I wanted to be sure of what I wanted to say here. I want to be honest when we talk about my career and that requires self-reflection. I needed the time to do that. And I-I brought things here to share so I had to put those together too.” you state. 

“We’ll go back to the start then. What drew you to the industry - acting, singing, dancing?” she asks. 

You pull out your first picture, the one you ripped off of your wall. The paint is still stuck to the tape on the back, the picture of you, Falco, and Colt at your popstar themed birthday party. Colt and Falco have excited smiles on their faces, a sparkly pink crown on top of your head and your hands are clenched around the microphone, at the bottom. You can hear Eren’s words ringing in your mind. 

Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture. 

“This is me at my fourth birthday party. It was a popstar themed birthday party my parents threw for me. I performed a little show for them and my brothers, did karaoke, the whole thing. I-I saw Hange’s speech a few years later when they became a triple threat and it-it basically cemented this as my dream.” you respond, holding up the picture before handing it to Layla. 

She’s smiling, running her fingers over the picture. 

“This must be a surreal moment. A dream come true.” 

You wish. 

“Let’s talk about Attack on Titan. How did you find out about it, what was it like being cast, and on a set for the first time?” 

“I found out about it through a flier at my coffee shop. I kind of showed up on a whim and did a chemistry read with my co-star. I got the role later that week and was flown out to be with them all. I-I was overwhelmed when I got there at first. I didn’t know much about the set, the terms that you’re supposed to use, they-they had to teach it all to me, like I was a five year old. A fish out of water moment.” 

You nervously walk to the other side of the set, where Eren’s sitting in the makeup chair. The team is brushing through the ends of his brown locks, his eyes fixed on his script in front of him, as he murmurs his lines under his breath. You reach forward and snatch the paper out of his hands and tuck it under your arm. 

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” he responds, eyes wide as he smiles at you. 

“Sorry. Good morning, Eren.” 

He smiles. 

“I was joking. Did you need something?” 

“I have an embarrassing question. Can you come here?” you murmur, cheeks burning pink. 

He quickly hops off the chair, giving a sympathetic nod to the makeup team, as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his face close to yours as you talk in hushed tones. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“What’s a hot brick?” you ask. 

“Huh?” 

“Hange. They-they asked me to bring them a hot brick. And when I said what, they were like…You do know what a hot brick is, right? And I got so embarrassed I kind of ran away and now I don’t know what to do.” 

Eren pauses as he registers, which is immediately followed by him smiling and leading you towards the back of the room. He picks up one of the charged batteries of the walkie talkies and places it flat in your palm. 

“A hot brick is a fully charged battery.” 

“Oh. Right. Th-thanks, Eren.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s only like your sixth day on a set. I didn’t even know this stuff until the end of my first movie. You-you aren’t behind, I promise.” 

“Okay. Thanks, I guess.” 

“I’ll help you. Before the rest of the cast gets here. Teach you all the terms and the secrets and stuff. You’ll be a natural.” 

“Really?” 

Eren gives you a nod, the smile on his face drawing your eyes to his dimples. 

“Thank you, Eren. Really.” 

“It’s no biggie. I’ll help you with anything you want. Just ask, okay?” 

“One of our most overwhelming questions that we received was what was it like filming with your cast? Your show - along with Jujutsu Kaisen - were really the first of their types to have such a big child actor presence on them.” 

You smile, pulling out your next three pictures. The first - it's a picture of you and Bertholdt, holding a World’s Greatest Dad mug in front of Levi, who has the most annoyed expression on his face. The second is of you and Historia - tying Reiner’s hair into two tiny ponytails. And the third - you and Marco, hugging each other so hard that your cheeks are pressed together. 

“It was the time of my life, really. I-I went to sleep every night with a smile on my face. They were genuinely such good friends of mine and this experience, these memories - they’ll always be special to me.”

“Do you have a favorite memory?” she asks. 

“Hm. I-we were all kind of immature at that age. I still am. Anything related to dirty jokes, especially when Erwin or Hange were involved is a surefire favorite. Sometimes I’ll remember them and still burst out laughing.” 

The teacher stands at the front of the makeshift classroom, the lazy energy enveloping the room. The warm haze of the summer has the ends of your hair sticking to your neck, the cold desk soothing your burning skin - preventing you from listening to whatever the physics teacher is saying about the solar system. 

You look to your right to find the same sentiment shared by everyone else too. Eren’s eyes are closed, his chin resting against his desk as the sweat rolls down the side of his face. Connie and Sasha are sharing a cold drink between them and Jean’s nearly turning pink as he fans Mikasa - the only one who looks relatively comfortable right now. 

You kick Eren’s leg.

“Hm? What’dya want, sweetheart?” he murmurs. 

“Jean is fanning Mika. You could do the same.” you groan. 

You feel a light breeze on your neck as you turn your head to see Eren, leaning against his arm as he fans you with the book. You take it from his hand, giving a head shake as you turn to your side, the two of you facing each other on the aisles. You instinctively place your feet on top of his, the two of you looking at each other. 

“I was kidding.” 

“I know. I don’t mind though. You’re looking a little hot.” 

You smile. 

“Just a little?” 

“Shut up. You know exactly what I think about how you look.” he says, rolling his eyes. 

You bite back your smile. 

“And that’s why the answer is Uranus.” the teacher says, metal pointer smacking against the board. 

You look up at Eren, the two of you so incredulous - from the heat, from being stuck in here for three hours, from how stupid of a word it is - that you both burst out laughing. And then get in trouble together. 

“What the hell was so funny that your teacher had to take you out of class?” Levi asks, arms crossed against his chest as he stares the two of you down, hours later. Hange and Erwin are trying to mimic his intimidated stance, but all you and Eren can do is laugh. 

“Um. You don’t want to know, Levi.” you respond. 

“It’s stupid. We’re sorry.” Eren states. 

“No. No, I want to know what was so funny that you laughed so hard you pissed one of your nicest teachers off.” 

You and Eren give each other a look. 

“It-it’s inappropriate. We’re really sorry, okay? We’ll go and apologize right away.” 

You and Eren stand up, linking arms together as you move to walk away. Except Levi’s moved in front of you two, an entirely different look on his face. 

“Do I need to have a talk with you two?” 

“What?” you ask. 

“A talk. About sex.” 

You and Eren turn your heads to each other, eyes wide. And you immediately start back tracking. 

“Levi. Ew- oh my god. What’s wrong with you? You’re so disgusting. And-and-and a pervert.” 

“Y/N. Do we have to have a talk? Are you being safe? Why are you guys making dirty jokes in class that you can’t tell me?” he repeats, eyes burning into yours. 

“No! Oh my god Levi! It’s not like that.” 

Levi looks back at Hange as you look over at Eren, who's pouting at you. 

“What, Eren?” 

“You don’t have to act like you’re soooo repulsed by it. That’s not what you sounded like-” 

You smack your hand over his mouth, cheeks burning. 

“Eren. Shut up. This is not the time or the place to be bringing THAT up.” 

He smirks, clearly delighted by how embarrassed you are, before pressing a kiss to your palm where you’re covering his mouth. He turns back to Levi, Hange, and Erwin. 

“Levi. We’re sorry. The teacher said Uranus and we thought it was funny.” 

“Uranus? What the fuck is so funny about Uranus?” Levi asks. 

You bite down on your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing in Levi’s face - his very angry face. Luckily enough for you, you're not the first one to break. And neither is Eren. 

It’s Hange. They’re smacking the back of Levi’s back as they ask him to say it again, the four of you - Erwin having joined you - as you all goad Levi on to say it again. And you laugh so hard that by the end of it, you’re on the floor - screaming for them to stop as Eren rubs circles into your back. 

Your chest twinges, as she hands the pictures back, and you tuck them back into the box. 

“The success after season one of Attack on Titan was pretty tremendous. You guys essentially became house names overnight. How did that feel, especially given your background? Nepotism runs deep and heavy in what we do and you seem to be one of our only outliers, here.” 

“It was horrible.” 

A shocked look spreads across her face. 

“I’m grateful for it all. Don’t get me wrong. But my life changed overnight. I-I went to school and I wasn’t treated as the same person anymore, by people I grew up with. There were people hanging around my school, waiting to take pictures of me, and-and anyone who had a chance of understanding me, they were all miles away. Filming.” 

“Did you feel that often? Comparing yourself to your co-stars?” 

“Originally, no. I-I was just happy to be there. But people, I mean. They talk. It-it kind of cemented that idea in my mind. I didn’t think it was weird that I was the only one who wasn’t filming until someone pointed it out. And-and someone always pointed these things out.” you respond. 

Colt snatches the phone from your hands, an irritated look on his face as he slides it into his pocket. After a six hour phone call with your new publicist and producers - Danny and Sareen - all you could do was aimlessly scroll through social media, their words swimming through your mind as you considered your options. 

“Quit reading that shit.” he says, making an effort to storm out of your room. He hangs by the door when he reaches it, his hands pressed against the frame. 

You shuffle under the blanket, pulling the soft fabric over your head. And a few seconds later, Colt’s pulling it off, expression a bit softer than before. 

“I-I just don’t get why you read it. What’s the point?” 

“I dunno.” 

He slides onto your bed, putting his cold legs next to yours under the blanket as you complain. 

“In my meeting with Danny and Sareen. They-they’re the new producer and the manager that reached out to me. They were saying all this stuff about how I can’t drop the ball anymore. How if I have people paying attention to me now, I-I have to keep it going.” 

Colt frowns. 

“I-I don’t know how this stuff works. What does that have to do with you reading a bunch of people saying rude stuff about you online?” 

“I told them I had time to decide, figure out what I want to do next. They said I should look online and reconsider. That if I want to be a triple threat, I-I should trust them.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yeah. They-they’re right. And they seem like the type to push me in the right direction, like Levi and Hange. I know they’ll do whatever to help me be the best. They want what I want.” 

Colt shrugs. And you know he doesn’t understand. 

“Let’s talk about season two. You made history this season - by being nominated for Best Actress in a Lead role among many others, becoming the most nominated actress in Institute history in one night. How did that feel? To-to do that so young?” 

“That-that was a win. It came after something really, really intense for me actually. I-I had all these feelings about what it was like to be famous. Building for months. And-and I got them put into words for me right before that happened. It was kind of like going from a really low low to the highest of highs. I-Intense is the word I’d use for it.” 

“Could you elaborate? On that?” 

You swallow hard. 

“Being famous is like living in a fishbowl. There’s-there’s glass in between you, the viewers, and me the person. And it may seem like you can see me, that you and I are the same but the glass is always between us. You enjoy on the other side, smack against the glass, sometimes even put your rods out to wring us out. We-we’re stuck there, that’s all. I realized that and found out I got nominated minutes after. But that’s this job for you. You’re at the bottom one minute and the top the next.” 

Her eyes flutter down to your tattoo but she doesn’t make a point to mention it. 

“Let’s discuss music now. Following winning Best Actress in a Drama Series, your impressive albums and tours started. You released your debut album, followed by lover girl, and then ribbons. This-this was an insane feat on your part - most artists take four to five years to produce albums at this pace. What motivated you during this time?” 

“My manager and my producer are pushing me at every step.” 

She smiles. 

“That’s some support system.” 

“That’s not the word I would use for it.” you respond, voice cutting.

She nods. 

“That’s right. Following your last performance, rumors were flying around that you had fired Danny and Sareen, your beloved manager and producer. Is this true?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why, if I may ask?” 

“I just told you. They were pushing me at every step.” 

You sigh, looking down at your hands, knotting your fingers together. One of the first things, you could come under fire for, is talking about them, so bluntly the way you are. 

“I looked up to them. My previous example from my mentors - Hange and Levi - was perfect. Almost too perfect. Because of them, because of how willing they were to support me, to defend me, I thought everyone was like that. I thought every person who was willing to be on my team was taking into account that I didn’t know much about the industry and pushing me in the right direction.”

“And that wasn’t true for them?” 

You take a deep breath. 

“I think they used that to their advantage. That I had a blind faith in them. That I wanted to please them, to please other people. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to put out three records, to do world tours that fast. I didn’t know that it was insane that I forgot to eat some days, I didn’t know that it was crazy that they were waking me up after two hours of sleep to put me to work. I-I thought that it was all part of the hustle.” 

“How do you feel about it now? Having fired them?” 

“I-I don’t regret what they’ve done for me. I-I am thankful to them. If anything, I’m more embarrassed of what they did make me do. Why I didn’t think twice on things they asked me to do, songs they convinced me to write.” 

She looks intrigued. She knows she’s getting into the good stuff. 

“Songs like?” 

“London Boy.” you respond. 

“That brings us to Ricky James. Are you saying that you didn’t write London Boy?” 

“No. No, I wrote it. But I was asked to write it the way I did. Write a love song about him.” 

“Because?” 

“Press. It’ll get people to talk. People get bored of the same thing over and over again after years.” you respond, repeating Danny and Sareen’s words, about Eren. 

You sigh. 

“It’s embarrassing to admit that I did that. Pretend just to get people to listen to my music. I-I am ashamed of it.” 

“It’s okay. We-we understand.” 

“I don’t think you do.” you whisper. 

You can feel the tears pricking your eyes. 

“I-I regret it. It’s a horrible thing to do. Especially when, when you have real love and you give it up to pretend. And it’s humiliating to pretend, to see people coo over you and a guy you barely even know. But when you’re famous, when people are telling you this is what you have to do, when this is what everyone does, it doesn’t seem like much to give up. I-I could feel the shame crawling in my skin when I look back at it now.” 

You swallow down the regret, thick in your throat. 

“How so?” 

“The night my album premiered, Ribbons. In the past, all my best friends, they-they’d come to listen with me. Throw me a party, press kisses to my cheeks. I turned them all down that year. It’s one thing to pretend to everyone you know. It’s another thing to do it to people who know better. Who know what you’re doing. I didn’t want to pretend in front of their faces. ” 

“Speaking of that night. Could you speak on this?”

She sides the picture, the one the paparazzi took of you on the curb before Lana got to you, towards you. You pick it up and look at it - at your eyes pinched shut and your drenched hair. 

“It’s simple. Ricky James started liking me. Asked me out. I said no. And then he locked me out in the rain.” 

You see the discomfort spread across her face as she slides the picture back. 

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. But you came out of it at the top, with your hit featuring Lana Price. Was she part of your support system during that time?” 

You smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can’t sleep?” 

You look up from the shelves you were currently pawing through to find Lana, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes, as she walks over to where you’re standing. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted water but I couldn't find the glasses.” 

She smiles as she wraps her hand around your wrist and leads you to the other side of the kitchen, taking a glass out of the correct cabinet and filling it up for you. You both lean against the counter, illuminated by the fridge of the kitchen light in the dark kitchen. 

And suddenly you’re crying again, wet, warm tears falling down the length of your face. At the thought of where you were four nights ago - running in the rain until she picked you up. You aggressively wipe the tears off of your cheeks as she catches on. And Lana, despite this being the second time having met you, is quick to pull you into her arms, the sweet strawberry smell of hers filling your nose. 

“You smell like candy.” 

“Don’t go biting me now.” 

You laugh, pressing against her arms harder as your tears fall onto her shoulder, trying to muffle your sobs by clamping your mouth shut. 

“Eren told me. About Colt.” 

She pulls back, wiping the tears off your cheek as she talks, softly. 

“You’ll get better at doing this. Protecting them. I can almost guarantee it.” she says, giving you a smile. 

“How do you know?” 

“Because I did it. Which means you can too.” she responds, placing her glass of water in your hands. 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Yes, it is. I’ll help you. Eren will help you.” she responds. 

“You’re already doing enough for me. Both of you. I’m intruding on your house right now.” 

You feel two hands, warm, around your neck, accompanied with a light squeeze. And then Eren, his voice still raspy from sleep, whispering in your ear. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Say that again and I’ll kill you. What’s mine is yours.” he responds, sliding his hands off of you as he pushes the fridge door closed and opens the light. 

Lana groans. 

“God. Would it kill you to put a shirt on, ugly?” 

“Would it kill you to brush your hair, you hag? Or maybe not wake me up in the middle of the night?” 

“That wasn’t even me. Y/N woke up first!” 

“It was your croaking that woke me up, Lana. You sound like a toad.” he mutters. 

You laugh, which breaks the two of them out of their argument, and has soft smiles spreading across both of their faces. 

“You guys are like siblings.” 

Lana comes over, hands cupping your face. 

“My sweet, sweet Y/N. Please don’t insult me.” 

And then Eren’s behind you, arms slithering around your waist, his voice warm in your ear again. 

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me, princess.” 

“Quit flirting, Eren. You’re such a manwhore.” Lana says. 

“Princess was her nickname on set, dumbass. Because she’s a pop princess. I’m not flirting.” Eren responds, 

“Wow. So you’re too good to flirt with Y/N. You think you’re better than her?” 

“What?” Eren asks, leaning off of you. 

Catching on to what Lana’s trying to do, you turn around and look at Eren, trying to hide your coy expression. 

“Do you really think that, Eren?” 

His eyes go wide, hands on your shoulders. 

“No! No, oh my god! I don’t think I’m better than you. If anything, you-you’re better than me. I’ll flirt with you all you want. I swear!” 

You and Lana stare him down for a few seconds before you burst out laughing, a pink spreading across Eren’s cheek as he grumbles, an irritated look on his face as he shoves past Lana. 

“You guys are annoying. I’m going back to bed.” 

“Aw, Eren! Come back! Flirt with her!” Lana says, teasing him on. 

“Don’t stay down here too, Y/N. You’re going to lose brain cells.” he murmurs, shuffling away. 

You turn back to Lana, who's filling your glass with water again. She has a soft smile on her face, eyes warm as she hands you the water. 

“This type of stuff…it really helps.” she says. 

“This type of stuff?” 

“Good people. Who want to take care of you. Make you laugh after you cry, all that cheesy stuff.” 

You hum, leaning against the counter again. 

“Lean on Eren. Don’t get so jumbled up on what it means and how he’s feeling because he just wants to be there for you.” she says. 

“I’m trying to. I guess I just feel bad.” 

“I would have benefited a lot from someone like Eren, if I knew him when I was younger. When I was-” 

You quirk your head to the side, beckoning for her to elaborate. 

“For the longest time, I thought that this is just how guys were. Assholes. Dicks. That it was a matter of finding one who was relatively nice, good enough. That real guys, they’re never like this.” 

You frown. 

“My dad was an asshole. Ricky was horrible. My brother was the only person who was nice to me but we just- we lived so far and with the jobs and stuff we grew apart. And when I had to deal with things on my own, things I was too young to even understand, I-” 

She pauses. Swallowing hard. 

“I would have benefitted from knowing Eren earlier. Guys like Eren, like your friends Jean and Marco. Eren’s helped with a lot of my shame and made me better. I-I owe a lot to him really. I know we said what we said earlier, but he is like my brother. He’s always protected me. Overwhelmed me with kindness under insults.” 

You smile. 

“He’s a good guy. Always has been.” you whisper, heart warm at Eren being Eren, still. 

“So let him. Overwhelm you with kindness. Be there for you. You have no reason to be ashamed. And every reason to be scared. Quit feeling bad and just let him. He’s the person you’re comfortable with here.” 

You smile, leaning your head against your shoulder. 

“Dunno. You’re pretty cool too.” 

She laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know what would be cool. If you guys went to bed.” Eren says, shuffling into the room again. 

Lana groans. 

“All men have is the audacity. You just ruined a really sweet moment.” 

You smile at Eren, which he returns. 

“Can Lana sleep with us?” 

He stops smiling. 

“Huh?” 

“You sleep on the left and she can sleep on my right!” you respond. 

“Y/N.” he whines. 

“Please? It’ll be like a sleepover. I can’t have bad things on my mind before I go to bed if you’re both there.”

“No thanks, sweet girl.” Lana says. 

“I’m trying to lean on you guys! Give in.” you respond. 

They both groan as they agree, the three of you shuffling towards Eren’s room. You settle straight into the middle of Eren’s bed, as they both shuffle around - loudly talking in Eren’s bathroom. 

“Ew, Eren. Why did you just kiss my cheek? I’m not Y/N, idiot.” 

“That was for you, Lana Bear!”  

“What pervert spirit possessed you at this time of night? And you know how I feel about that nickname after what Hyla said to me at dinner, so shut up.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Lana. And I just wanted you to know I love you too. You’re like a sister to me.” 

You hear Lana smack Eren. 

“Were you eavesdropping? Asshole. I was lying. None of it was true.” 

“Okay, Lana. Sure thing.” 

“I’m serious!” 

You shake the memory from your head, as you pull out the picture for her to see, one of you and Lana that Eren took. You’re both on his couch, your hands tangled in the bowl of popcorn - glaring at the camera. Eren was blocking your rewatch of High School Musical. 

“Speaking of support systems, one of your most talked about relationships is that with your co-star, Historia Reiss. After seemingly dropping songs about each other and making up and breaking up, there’s a lot of speculation on what happened. Anything to share?” 

You smile. 

“Historia and I are friends. And friendship is complicated. You just got to witness ours first hand, that’s all. Everything between us - it’s water under the bridge, if there ever even was one. We’re just really similar and we butt heads. We still love each other at the end of the day.” you say. 

“Well that’s lovely to hear. How about Ryomen Sukuna? The two of you are all anyone talks about these days, especially after how cozy you two were on the red carpet.” 

You snort. And pull out the polaroid - of you and Sukuna, of him kissing your cheek at the awards show. And in the background, Nobara and Maki are pretending to gag. 

“We’re not dating. And we won’t ever. We’re just really good friends.” 

“Friends kiss each other on red carpets?” 

“These ones do!” you respond, smiling. 

She laughs, nodding as you tuck the picture back into the box. She swallows hard, rubbing her hands against her palms as she asks her next question. The one you know she’s been itching to ask. 

“Look. We’ve talked about your career at great length - all but caught up to the night that you became a triple threat. But there’s one person that we haven’t discussed yet, maybe brought up in passing but haven’t broached. Who I think is relevant.” 

You smile. 

“Eren.” 

“Eren.” she repeats, nodding. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“I mean, everything. How did it feel to know that you finally got him back for what he did to you, the way he dragged your career through the mud. I mean you basically had him hanging his head between his knees by the end of the night, after you ended him. Throwing his relationship with his brother in his face, the songs you wrote, I mean- that. That has to be liberating. To do all that and come out as a triple threat at the end.” 

You can feel the tears spilling down your cheeks as you take your last picture out, one of you and Eren at Levi and Hange’s vow renewal. You’re leaning your head on your palm, looking up at him as he smiles down at you. And you swallow the hiccups as you respond. 

“In what world did that night seem liberating to you? Making a joke out of the love I shared with someone? I sobbed my way through the entire last song. Didn’t even make a speech. In what world was that liberating?” 

You see the shock spread across her face. 

“I just thought-” 

You smile. 

“Since we were fifteen, all people have done is speculate about me and Eren. Are we dating? Are we in love? Are we real? Are we faking? And therein lies the issue, because I think the people, the fame - it came between something really real.” 

She stops, nodding. 

“Something real? Are you telling us that Eren Jaeger lied in his interview?” 

“I don’t know his truth. Maybe it was fake for him. But I was there too.....And it was real for me.” 

You look down at the picture, fiddling with it in your hands. 

“I-I’d like to sing my song, if I could. I-I think it’ll help explain how I feel.” you say. 

She nods, gesturing to the piano. You sit at the seat, sneaking out the vinyl sleeve from the inside of the bench and pull it out. The album cover is a picture of the cast from season one of Attack on Titan. You and Eren are front and center, smiling at each other instead of the camera, everyone’s heads going in different directions. Jean and Mikasa are looking at something to the left and pointing, Ymir is smiling at Historia who is disgusted at Connie and Sasha plugging their fingers in each other's nose. 

“This is my fourth and final studio album, called The Lucky One. And this is my first song on the record, called happiness.” 

You brace your hands against the keys, playing the tune into the air as you sing. The feeling sits deep in your chest. Your realization was simple. That Historia’s statement - that your Eren wasn’t the Eren that existed anymore - is true. You just chose to focus on the wrong part of it.

You loved Eren and he made you happy. He burned you down, hurt you in the way that only he knew how, but loved you, made you whole in only the way he could too. There's a deep hurt. 

But there was great happiness. It’s why you forgive him. Why you choose to move forward, and hold whatever love you did have close. 

Past the blood and bruise Past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind And there is happiness

There is happiness In our history Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight Leave it all behind Oh, leave it all behind Leave it all behind And there is happiness 

You wipe the tears off of your face as you turn back towards the camera. 

“Eren Jaeger is the love of my life. He’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, he’s all too willing to understand you. Too willing to meet you where you are, as you are, and look past all the bad parts of you.” 

You stifle your sob, the tears pouring out of your eyes. You glance back at the picture of you and Eren at the piano. And the memory sticks out in your head. 

“I love you.” 

You look over at Eren, his green eyes gentle and heartfelt as he takes your hand and squeezes three times. 

“Eren, you-” 

“I love you. The three squeezes - that’s what they’ve always meant.” he whispers, his hand warm in yours as me mimics the motion you’ve done a hundred times. 

You swallow hard. 

“Eren Jaeger is the love in the room. He gives people a chance, even when he shouldn’t. He’s supportive, so incessantly adamant about his belief in you, that you believe in yourself too. He loves hard, he loves soft, and everything in between.” 

“He’s the best person I’ve ever met. Until he wasn’t anymore. And I-I don’t know what they did to him. If they pumped him full of drugs, if they told him something about this industry that I’m unaware of, if-if it was something about me. But this Eren Jaeger, so full of love that it was almost spilling out of him, doesn’t exist anymore. He was real. But he’s not like this anymore.” 

You swallow hard. 

“This career, the way we live in our fishbowl. It-it’s so cruel. You all enjoyed watching me ruin him. You all enjoyed watching him ruin me. You liked that we spent our entire lives loving each other and maybe loved it even more when it came crashing down. It was interesting to speculate on, to talk about. You saw the softest love in us. In him. And then gutted it out of him like he was a fish.” 

You take a deep breath. 

“And with that, I quit.” 

The interviewer sits up, hand on your shoulder at the piano bench as the shock spreads across her face. 

“You’re quitting music?” 

“I’m quitting all of it. I don’t want anything to do with this. You already got to have him. You don’t get to have me too.” 

You give her a smile as you turn to the camera, before walking straight off of the set and into the waiting room outside. 

--

You sit on the bench outside, swinging your legs as you watch the people around you move. They’re all rushing to air the tape, which you expected. And making flash copies of the vinyl you gifted them, getting ready to post them online as the interview goes out. 

Figures. 

The only person who comes to your side is Leila. 

“HI.” you say, cheeks burning from the tears and your eyes swollen. 

She hands you the blue box, the one they hid behind the couch at the start, and shakes her head. 

You give her a strange look as you open up the box, filled with a large stack of letters. You reach for the one at the top, opening the pages to find Eren’s messy handwriting scribbled on the pages. 

Dear The Institute (I don’t know if you’re a person or like someone specific I’m just writing a letter to the address Levi gave me),  My name is Eren Jaeger. I’m fifteen, the son of Carla and Grisha Jaeger. I’m going to be in a new show called Attack on TItan. But that’s not why I’m writing to you. I want to tell you about my friend, my best friend.  Her name is Y/N L/N. She’s going to be my co-star in the show. You haven’t heard of her yet but I promise you won’t forget her. And I’ll make sure you won’t. Because I’m telling you now, she’s the next big thing. And you’re going to make her a triple threat.  I’ll spend this entire time convincing you until you do. But she’s amazing. It won’t take much.  You will hear from me again, Eren Jaeger

You pull another page out, opening up the crinkled pages, the block sitting in your throat. 

Hi (Can you tell me your name? It feels weird to call you The Institute. Like that’s almost dystopian.)  It’s Eren, again. Y/N is going to perform her song, New Year’s Day at the award show tomorrow. It’s her first one and it’s perfect. Like genuinely, who the fuck makes a hit song on the first try?  And even after making something great, she’s trying to be better. She doesn’t like to play the piano, but she tries anyway. Every time I try to teach her, she’s hanging on the ends of my words, trying over and over again until she’s satisfied.  She works very hard. I’m asking you to not overlook that.  See you soon (and when’s your birthday? We’re basically becoming friends at this point.)  Eren Jaeger 

You flip the pages, again. 

Good morning/good afternoon/good evening (covering all my bases, I don’t know where you live),  Now, don’t start discrediting what I’m saying as biased because of the rumors.  Granted, they are true. I adore Y/N with my entire heart. I love her with every fiber of my being. But that doesn’t discredit any of her work or how I’m vouching for it. Because she truly is amazing.  Her new movie is coming out on Saturday and her album on Sunday. Quit being assholes and give her this award already.  She deserves it. Really.  My deepest apologies (for calling you assholes and for bothering you all these years),  Eren Jaeger 

And again. 

Hi,  We broke up. And we don’t really talk much anymore. But the fact that I’m still writing this to you should be proof enough for you to at least CONSIDER her as a triple threat.  Like seriously. We aren’t even dating and I’m still raving about her work (because it’s that good).  Her new movie comes out soon.  She is all things great. The sun, the moon, the stars and everything in between. The light in the dark, every cheesy thing you can think of.  Art is a reflection of who you are. And her art has always been the best.  For the love of god, give in already,  Eren Jaeger. 

And the last one, despite being the shortest one, is what hurts the most. Dated for the day after the awards show, what you assume is barely hours after Eren was sobbing during your performance. 

Dear The Institute,  Thank you for listening. And for making her dream come true.  Best,  Eren Jaeger 

You hold the letters close to your chest as you cry into the box, nearly twenty or thirty pages you still haven’t read. Of Eren, his messy handwriting, and his endless love for you. 

His words ring in your mind. They don’t make any sense and none of it does. You didn’t have any faith in me like I did you. Your parents weren’t famous and you had no ins. I have to do something to offset that if you’re my co-star.  I’m not lying to you when I’m trying to make you feel better or tell you that you’re great. Maybe Hange and Levi are, but I’m not. I’ve always thought you were great.

You sit up from the bench and walk out the door with the box in your hand. You find Falco and Colt standing on the curb against the car, soft smiles on their faces as they push you into the car. And take you where no one gets to touch you, suck you dry, push you too hard, take what you love most away from you ever again. 

Your most haunted memory sticks out to you as you drive away. As you feel the physical weight of this life be left behind on that piano and let him go. 

The waves continue to crash, Eren’s hand raking through your fingers as you both look up at the moon, shining above you. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, Eren?” 

“Have you ever been skinny dipping?” 

You curl your nose in disgust. 

“When would I have time to go skinny dipping, Eren? And if I did, you would have known.” 

Eren turns on his side, a bright smile on his face. 

“Let’s do it.” 

“What?” 

“Skinny dipping.” 

“Eren. Quit being ridiculous.” 

He rolls his eyes. 

“I just turned twenty-two. Like fifteen minutes ago. I am the pinnacle of seriousness.” he states, putting on his best Erwin-like tone. 

“Eren.” 

“Come on. It’s like a quintessential experience. We don’t get those - prom, memorizing your crush’s classes and waiting outside them, going on a date in the city. Let’s do this one.” 

You nod as you both trudge to the shore, hands locked together as you quickly lose your clothes and run into the water, biting cold against your skin. The Seattle cold does nothing to help, the two of you shivering in each other's arms as you hold each other in the water. 

“Ttt-this was a sss-stuppid idea, Er-rren.” you shiver, glaring at him. 

“It-it’s ff-un.” he responds. 

You groan as he pulls you into his arms, your face flat against his neck as you guys hug in the water. You can feel his heart beating under your ear and you pull back to find him smiling at you, his hair matted against his forehead. You reach forward and push it out of his eyes. 

“Thanks.” he whispers. 

You nod, giving him a smile. He’s all but grinning at you, the smile on his face so big that it’s throwing you off. 

“Eren. What?” 

“Nothing. You.” 

“Me?” 

He nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Just trying to remember this moment. You and me - being real people.” 

“You sound like a crazy person.” 

“You’re not a pop star. I’m not an actor. You’re Y/N and I’m Eren. We’re skinny dipping. And I love you.” 

You turn your head to the side, confused by his sentiment all together. 

It makes sense to you now. 

--

Almost a year and a half later and you’re nervously running your sweaty hands against the pleats of your black dress. You half debate walking in, even though you flew all this way. If there’s still a place for you in this townhouse, even though you all but grew up here. 

You can hear a loud chatter on the inside, voices talking over each other as you think hard, every regret of yours running through your mind. You wonder if they replaced you already, if your doppelganger is walking around in there.

As always, this is what brings you back to them. All of them. And you hate it. Because as always, they are the only ones who understand. They are the only ones who feel it too. 

You’re fish. On the same side of the glass, separated from everyone else. 

You supposed that’s what it does to people. That being fish, to some extent, was something everyone related to - not just you and Eren, Mikasa and Jean, everyone else who was famous.

This tears down things that were a resolute fact - bringing you to places you never thought you’d return, to people you didn’t think you would ever need anymore. A fishbowl - separating you from everyone else on one side of the glass, with everyone else - normal and whole - on the outside.

Fame can do that to people. But grief can too.

The news clip rings in your head. 

. 

. 

. 

Marco Bodt, best known for his time as a recurring character in the drama series Attack on Titan, died on Friday, five days short of his twenty-fourth birthday. 

You brace yourself and knock on the door of the townhouse. Eren’s the one who answers.

--

next part linked here

an: lol. so does "passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long" still apply if he's dead....thoughts? also the lucky one tracklist

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlo l@mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi

#seeingivywrites! #method acting #eren #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x y/n #actor eren #actor eren x you #actor eren x reader #actor eren x y/n #aot actor au #aot #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #snk #snk x you #snk x reader #snk x y/n #eren angst

[worseforwords]

The Beginning

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter II of Marshmallow

The anticipation hung in the air as you opened the door, revealing Alessia to your parents. Greetings were exchanged, and your mom, with a sly grin, asked, “Hi sweetheart, is this her?” You sent her a nervous smile. “Yes, this is my girlfriend, Alessia,” you said, trying your best to sound natural. “Yes, we know who she is, darling. She’s quite the star, you know?” Your dad joked, as if you weren’t also a professional athlete. Chuckles filled your hallway as you invited your parents into your living room.

After the initial polite and just a little awkward introductions, you all settled down at the dinner table. Wine was poured, dinner was served, and the atmosphere was pleasant. Everyone made small talk; your dad made some jokes, and the initial awkwardness melted away easily.

However, you knew your mom well enough to know that as wine continued to flow, it wouldn’t be long before she lost some of her filters. “So, girls,” she began, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “I don’t recall you two ever being very close. Y/N certainly never spoke about you much. So, tell me. How did this happen?” She waved her index finger between the two of you to explain what she meant by ‘this’.

You shot your mom a glare, a wordless plea to dial it down, rolling your eyes when she didn’t respond and instead looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer. “Fell for my football skills, obviously,” you grinned slyly while internally panicking. Under the table, away from your parents’ gaze, Alessia quickly squeezed your hand, silently signalling that she had this covered, which had you looking at her expectantly.

“Actually, it wasn’t football-related at all,” she started. “You know, on the pitch, Y/N is a force to be reckoned with—focused, passionate, a bit... intimidating, honestly. I always assumed she’d be the same off the pitch.”

She paused, letting curiosity build. “At an away match early in the season, Kyra lost her mother’s necklace. Kyra’s from Australia and had only just moved here to join the team. She was probably hiding how daunting it was to move to the other side of the world at her age.”

In that moment, your eyes met, a silent acknowledgment passing between you as you realised what story she was about to tell. A subtle smile from her as you wondered if and how she knew about what you did.

“So everyone, all in good spirits of course, teased her about her clumsiness. We were all having a laugh when Y/N left the room quite suddenly, without many people noticing.” Alessia, with a fond smile, continued the story. “When warm-up time came, both Y/N and Kyra were still missing. That’s when I offered to go find them. I discovered them in the dressing room, and there was Y/N, holding Kyra’s necklace in her hand.”

The realisation hit you that she was indeed talking about what you thought she was. You didn’t know she had noticed, and you felt your cheeks flush at the unexpected revelation. Alessia’s tone softened, “Y/N was helping Kyra dry her tears, cracking jokes to cheer her up. It was a side of Y/N that I hadn’t seen on the pitch, a softer, caring side.”

Everyone at the table stayed silent, waiting for Alessia to continue telling her story as she took a quick sip of her wine. “Later, I found out from a staff member that Y/N had insisted on going back to the bus. She didn’t want to leave until she found Kyra’s necklace, tucked in between two chairs.”

As Alessia spoke, her words painting a picture of a side of you that even you hadn’t fully acknowledged, your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and something else. You hadn’t expected her to notice the small act of kindness, let alone share it with your parents. But, as her words lingered, a warmth spread through you. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

You stared at your plate, trying to hide your now likely glowing cheeks, poking at your food and thinking back to that moment as Alessia continued, her gaze warm as she sent your parents a quick smile, “After that, I started noticing more of these acts of kindness from Y/N, not just for Kyra but for everyone, and never taking any credit for it. It’s those moments that made me fall for her.”

That last sentence had you accidentally drop your fork onto your plate with a loud clang, grabbing your parents’ attention as you looked at Alessia, studying her face as it was now her turn to avoid any eye contact by focusing all her attention on gathering some spaghetti on her fork. You were pretty sure your mom was saying something like “aww” in the background, although that seemed like noise to you as you were sure you saw Alessia’s cheeks flush as well now. She looked flustered, clearly taken aback by her own words, yet somehow all you could think about in that moment was how beautiful that made her look.

The room fell into a brief silence after Alessia’s heartfelt recount of that day. Your heart, which had been racing a moment ago, now thudded softly. Alessia’s gaze now held yours, and suddenly you felt something beyond the charade you were playing. As she looked away again, you found yourself wanting to say something. Yet, words eluded you, and all you managed was a grateful smile.

You pinched yourself under the table, trying to rid your mind of the spiral it was heading towards. It only semi-worked, and any distraction was useless as long as the person causing your inner turmoil was sitting next to you, drowning you in her perfume. You didn’t really think about your actions when you suddenly got up from your place at the table. When you felt everyone’s eyes on you, you quickly stacked some plates, starting to clear the table.

Before you could grab Alessia’s, however, you felt her hand on yours, stopping you in your tracks. “Let me take care of that. Everyone got room for dessert?” Your parents both smiled and nodded as you started to panic again. “Oh, I didn’t g—” you started, but Alessia quickly stopped you again by softly putting her hand on your shoulder and sitting you back down. “Don’t worry, I got this. Just wait here.”

“Did you really do that?” Your mom’s voice drew your attention back to the table. “Yeah,” you said, thankful for the moment of peace as you took a sip of water in an attempt to cool down a bit. “That’s really sweet, honey. I guess we raised you right.”

The three of you chatted away for a few minutes until Alessia returned carrying four plates with some delicious-looking tiramisu. “If you guys are anything like this one over here,” she gestured towards you, “I think you might like what I’ve made.”

Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the surprise dessert as Alessia, upon your mom’s curiosity, spoke about her Italian roots. Your dad remarked that it was the best dessert he had ever had, to which your mom insisted Alessia sent her the recipe as she’d never seen your dad this quiet.

When everyone had finished the delicious tiramisu, your dad mentioned something about a basketball game. Alessia, a bit of a basketball enthusiast herself, asked him which team he supported, and before you knew it, they were caught up in a conversation you and your mom could not contribute to in the slightest. After a while, you decided to just turn on the game for them to watch whilst you and your mom took care of the dishes.

“She’s a catch,” your mom immediately said when you two were alone in the kitchen. “She’s really lovely.” “Yeah, she really is,” you said, and you realised you didn’t have to lie about that. “The way she looks at you, and how she talks about you is really special, Y/N. You should hold on to that,” she added. “I know mum, thanks,” you said, your head starting to spin again wondering what she meant by ‘the way she looks at you’.

When you went back into the living room to collect the last items from the table, you saw Alessia and your dad both shouting angrily at the TV. You chuckled quietly as you picked up an empty wine bottle and some napkins. A warm feeling crept into your stomach as if you had just taken a sip of strong liquor, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you seeing Alessia getting along so well with your dad.

By the time you and your mom had finished cleaning up and going through all the recent family gossip, the game was over, and everyone decided it was time to go bed. Your parents stayed in the guest room, and you and Alessia took off to yours to wait until the coast was clear, and she could sneak off to Lotte’s.

“I think that went pretty well,” Alessia started as she sat down on the edge of your bed. “I hope they liked me.” “Oh, they loved you,” you said. “You were perfect. Thank you for doing this, Alessia.” You sent her a quick but kind smile. “Alessia,” she mumbled. 

“What was that?” You asked. “Oh, nothing. It’s just I’ve noticed you keep calling me Alessia. It’s not very girlfriend-y, is it? Maybe you should call me something cuter,” she said, a teasing grin on her face. 

“Oh, should I now? Like what?” You said, matching her teasing tone, not giving her enough time to answer as you plopped down next to her. “Hmmm shall I call you… buttercup? Sweetie pie?”

“Noooo, none of those please!” She giggled. “Honey? Pumpkin?” You continued. “Y/N! You know what I mean!” She laughingly exclaimed as she grabbed a pillow to smash you with. “Muffin? Marshmallow!” 

You and your snake reflexes caught both her wrists before the pillow could reach your face. “Why are they all food related?” She grunted, trying to escape your grasp. 

“Oh, you want serious ones? Fine. Have it your way, babe,” you grinned smugly. Alessia clearly saw her chance as she stopped trying to rid herself of your grip and instead suddenly lifted herself off the bed, using gravity to push you and the pillow down beneath her.

You knew you had lost the battle when you felt the pillow connect with your face and then your body, Alessia keeping you trapped between the bed and the pillow. “Hey! Is that still not good enough?” You asked, a chuckle escaping your mouth. She pressed down a little harder, grinning at your useless squirming. “Cutie! Sweetheart? Baby girl?” You tried. 

“That’s more like it.” She loosened her grip slightly. “Sunshine,” you added as you used the momentum you gained to push yourself back off the bed. “Beautiful,” you said, a bit more quietly as you suddenly found yourself sitting face to face with Alessia again. 

There was a bit of an awkward silence after that one, your eyes meeting and then both looking away and quickly getting off the bed. “Yeah, that’ll do. Or you know, you can start by calling me Less or Lessi instead of Alessia.”

“Fine, I’ll consider it. I think the coast should be clear by now, by the way,” you said, opening the door and peaking around the corner, nodding at Alessia after. “Good night, Y/N,” she whispered. “Good night, marshmallow,” you whispered in return, to which she sent you a quick glare before quietly sprinting off to Lotte’s room.

What followed after was a restless night. A combination of all the events of the night and the alcohol still in your system left your mind a spinning mess. You eventually tired yourself out and fell asleep, but not before you noticed light starting to seep through your curtains.

When you woke up the next morning you felt exhausted and confused. At first, you thought last night might’ve just been a dream, but then you noticed one of your pillows was still on the floor, and you knew it had been real. You stumbled downstairs to be met with Alessia cooking breakfast in your kitchen. You wondered how she became such a good actress because the sight felt oddly familiar to you, like she did this for you every morning.

“Morning marshmallow,” you said, voice still raspy as you startled her out of her focused state. “Morning Y/N, how did you sleep?” She smiled, and you wondered why she didn’t fight the new nickname. “Hey, how come you get to call me Y/N?” You asked, crossing your arms. 

“So you didn’t sleep well, huh?” She looked up from the counter to meet your eyes, tone almost accusatory but her look rather soft. You had become quite good at changing the subject when you didn’t want to talk about something, yet somehow she had already figured you out. You tried to busy yourself with making coffee, but you soon felt a hand on yours, stopping you in your tracks. 

“How about you go take a shower? I’ve got this covered,” she said, hand not leaving yours before you set the pot back down. You wondered when her little touches had started to set your skin on fire yet make you shiver at the same time. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

After your shower, you made sure all doors were closed before you had your morning chat with yourself in the mirror. After all, Alessia apparently knew about your weird habit, and you could not afford having her listening in on this one. Today you were in for a stern talking to from yourself. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” You asked yourself, sending a harsh glare to your own reflection. 

“You can’t do this to yourself, and furthermore, you can’t do this to her. She is doing something really nice for you, and you can’t turn something you both agreed on was just pretend into something more. It’s not fair to her. You know she has a boyfriend. Frankly, Y/N Y/L/N, you’re being extremely inappropriate and it has to end now. Today, you behave yourself.”

As you walked back down the stairs, the smell of scrambled eggs and fresh coffee caught up with you, and you found your parents and Alessia sitting at the table with the delicious food in front of them. “Yesterday’s tiramisu and now this? She’s a keeper Y/N!”

The rest of the day went by swiftly as you gave your parents a tour of your neighbourhood and then some other parts of London, with a newfound determination to keep your walls up. ‘Friendly, but not too friendly’, is what you kept telling yourself as you interacted with Alessia throughout the day.

When she put her hand on the small of your back as you stood in line at a coffee shop, you thought about the moment before a corner kick in a football match, where your opponent would usually do the same thing. When you were sat shoulder to shoulder on a bench at the park, in your mind she was a tree you were leaning against. When that tree started to talk, you were inside a fairytale. One about friendship, and certainly without a princess. Whatever you had to tell yourself to make the bad thoughts disappear.

The four of you walked by the Thames, you showed your parents some of your favourite sights, and you walked around Covent Garden before settling down for a delicious lunch at your favourite café. After that you took them to the Museum of Natural History where you spent the majority of the afternoon. Everything went surprisingly well and your change of mindset seemed to work. When the sun started to set the four of you settled at one of your favourite restaurants around the city centre.

“Thank you for having us here, girls. I know you both live busy lives, so it’s really nice of you to spend all this time with us,” your mom said as you all waited for your dinner to arrive. “Of course!” Alessia answered with a genuine smile. “It’s been lovely meeting you, finally.” She quickly winked at you. “And you!” Your dad replied as your mom nodded along, both of them smiling broadly. 

“So, Alessia,” your mom started after a brief moment of silence. “I’m sure Y/N has mentioned this before, but Charlotte, her sister, is getting married next month.” You felt your temperature start to rise as she continued. “Now I know you’re a very busy person, so it’s totally fine if you can’t come on such short notice, but she did plan it after you two have a Friday match so Y/N could be there the rest of the weekend.”

You and Alessia shared a few glances in which you desperately tried to communicate she didn’t have to come. “So, Alessia, how would you like a little trip to Paris? All expenses paid off course.” Your mom and dad both looked at her expectantly, but before she could even open your mouth you interjected. 

“Invites went out months ago and we shouldn’t bother Charlotte by adding a plus one so last minute, don’t you think?” You asked, hoping this would solve the situation. 

“A plus one?” Your mom asked. “Don’t be ridiculous Y/N, she’s family now. Besides, I already asked your sister about it and she said she’d love it if Alessia would be there.”

You thanked your lucky stars as you noticed a waiter approach your table with several delicious looking dishes, interrupting the excruciating conversation before your mom could ask anymore questions. The food served as a perfect distraction as you all munched away and hums of enjoyment filled the air. 

You managed to keep up chit-chat about anything an everything but your sisters wedding until all four of you had finished your dinner and took the last sips of your wine. When your mom went to the toilet and your dad went to the counter to settle the bill, you finally had a moment alone with Alessia. 

“Less,” you started. “I’m so sorry about that. I promise you really don’t have to come to Paris. I will make up an excuse for you, don’t worry about it,” you blurted out. 

“Actually,” she started. “I thought it might be fun. Besides, what girlfriend would skip their partner’s sister’s wedding?” You took a moment to examine her expression to ensure she was being serious. “Really?” You asked. 

“Yeah, if you’d like that of course,” she stated, though it sounded more like a question. “Yeah, no, of course, let’s do it.” You smiled at her and she did the same as a brief but comfortable silence fell over both of you. 

“Hey, you finally called me Less!” She teasingly interrupted the moment. “Better get used to it, marshmallow.” You teased back, right before your parents returned and you both got up to leave the restaurant and head back home.

The next morning the four of you had one last breakfast together before your parents left. “So, girls. I don’t mean to rush you and there’s no pressure, but I did promise Charlotte I’d let her know as soon as possible if Alessia would join us in Paris.” Your mom spoke. You and Alessia shared a quick glance as if to check if you both still agreed on what you decided yesterday. “I would love to be there.” Alessia smiled at your mom. “Great, I’ll let her know!”

Once everyone had finished their breakfast you hugged your parents goodbye, Alessia doing the same, and they left. “Less,” you started as she smiled at you finally getting used to not using her full name. “I don’t know how to thank you for doing all this. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you admitted. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I had a great time.” She smiled sincerely. “Do you think it went well?” She asked and you glared at her in disbelieve. 

“Are you kidding me? You’re pretty much the ideal daughter in law. Polite, kind, funny, charming, beauti-” you stopped abruptly as you realised what you were about to blurt out. “-fully talented. You know, at football,” you tried to save yourself as you quickly busied yourself with gathering dishes.

“I best get going,” Alessia said as you looked up at her and noticed her cheeks having a light pink shade. “Yeah, of course.” You put down the plates and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you again, Less, so much.” The hug wasn’t as short as anticipated as you both held on just a bit longer than you would usually.

You belly flopped your tired body on the couch as soon as Alessia had closed the door behind herself. The weekend had gone infinitely better than expected. Your parents fell for your deceit and they loved your pretend girlfriend. You, however, almost seemed to fall for your own deception as well. Was it really just acting? Or did the line between pretence and reality blur somewhere? Surely it couldn’t. This was just your mind being inappropriate again.

Either way, just when you thought you had managed to get through the weekend, it turned out the adventure was not nearly over yet. There was much more to come. The city of love awaited you and your pretend girlfriend. You and your wonderful, sweet, beautiful pretend girlfriend that wasn’t actually yours.

-> Chapter III

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Your Savior

Pairing: Cop!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: angst, being taken hostage at gunpoint, fearful of your life

Request by @jessicalynnann: What about cop/detective dean and him and the reader are in an established relationship and she owns a cute little bakery… well what if something happens like she gets attacked but doesn’t tell him and he finds out and is upset but comforts her… 

Summary: You have a little bakery that is your pride and joy and a boyfriend on the police force who you're so proud of. He doesn't have a lot of dangerous cases until one day, three gunmen decide to take a bank hostage. A bank that is a couple of blocks from your bakery.

Square Filled: criminal au (2022) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You have to bake two dozen cupcakes, a two-tier cake, and a half dozen cookies before the end of the day and you’re working as hard as you can to get that done. You have flour on your apron and face, quiet music is playing from your speaker, and you have your hands elbow-deep in a bowl of batter.

The bell on the front door rings signalling someone walked into your bakery store, and you try to peek out of the room to see who it is.

“I’ll be right with you!” you call out. “Give me one minute!” The person doesn’t wait for you to come out to them so they walk into the kitchen. You’re about to yell at them when you see who it is. “Dean!”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grins.

Dean is a respected cop that everyone knows. He has been on the force since eighteen, and he’s only gone up from there. He walks behind the counter and kisses you even though some of the flour gets on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t stop by my girlfriend’s bakery?” You raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs. “No, I just wanted to say hi on my break.”

“Hi,” you smile. “Today has been hectic and I haven’t been open for nearly an hour. I just got this big order in for a birthday party this weekend. I’m trying to get as much as I can done so I don’t have to do it later.”

“Where’s Maria?”

“Coming in late. She has a sick kid at home, and her husband won’t be able to pick him up until after ten.”

“I was going to take you out for lunch but I can come here.”

“No, Maria can hold down the fort for an hour. I’d love to go out to lunch with you.”

“Okay.” He grabs one of the fresh muffins you made and takes out a ten dollar bill which he sets on the counter. “I’ll be back at twelve.”

“Hey, I don’t need your money.”

“It’s stealing. I’m a cop. I uphold the law,” he grins. He leans down and kisses you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too!”

Right before Maria shows up, your bakery filled with customers who are hungry for your sweets. With her at the register, you can focus on the big order which you’re almost done making the batter for. This whole bakery idea is all because of Dean. When you two were in high school, he encouraged you to continue bake. The school held a bunch of bake-offs which you participated in, and everyone fell in love with your food.

Starting junior year of high school, you started selling your baked goods for cheap until you got orders from practically everyone. His family owned a section of a building in the mall for their seasonal work, so they let you use it when they weren't. When Dean became a cop, you made cookies and cupcakes for all the officers in the office.

Being a cop is something you wished Dean didn’t pursue because it’s a very dangerous job, and you’re always worried that he’s not going to come home. He’s mostly a beat cop who does a lot of desk work and will occasionally do the big things like drug busts and hostage situations but those are far in between.

You don’t like it but you know he’s the best person for the job. He’s determined, he loves helping people who can’t help themselves, and he has a passion for the job. Just like you.

Noon comes faster than you think it does, and you start to clean your work space so that when  you return from lunch, you can start with a clean area. Dean walks in through the front door just as you’re finishing up.

“Y/N, Dean is here,” Maria calls from the front.

“Coming!” You put the dirty rags in the small hamper and take off your dirty apron. There is some flour on your clothes but not enough to cause you to not go out in public. That’s the reality of being a baker. You have flour on everything you wear. “Where are we going?”

“Razzio’s.”

“Italian food. Yum,” you giggle. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Have fun!” Maria smiles.

Razzio’s is located in the same block as your bakery so you two walk over there. The owner knows Dean from when he stopped a robbery fromt aking place, so now he gets free meals and discounts when he comes in. Dean still pays full price for the food even though Razzio doesn’t always take it.

“Dean! Welcome in!” Razzio greets.

“Hey, Raz. Got a table for me?”

“Of course. Window okay?”

“Perfect.”

Dean likes to try everything on the menu so he has Razzio cook him up something new every week without ordering, and every week, you end up loving what he brings to the table. It’s not unusual for Razzio not to lay menus down for you.

“So, I was thinking this weekend, we can take some time off,” Dean says.

“Like a getaway?”

“Yeah. My family has a cabin up north that I’d love to take you to.”

“It will be nice to relax instead of worrying about what orders I need to prepare for next week.”

“See? Win-win.”

“You’re a dork,” you giggle and kiss him.

Razzio is perfect like always, and you walked away with a free meal. What Razzio doesn’t take, Dean leaves as a tip for him. You walk back to your bakery hand-in-hand with a full stomach and a happy heart. You reach his police car when the radio he has strapped to his shoulder crackles to life.

“Unit 27, I got a 10-31 in progress. All three subjects appear to be armed. Please respond.”

10-31. You’ve been with Dean long enough to know that it’s a robbery. Subjects being armed means they have guns.

Dean grabs the small radio and presses the button to respond back.

“Unit 27 responding.” He turns to you. “I gotta go.”

“Please be careful.”

“Always,” he winks.

He kisses you goodbye and hops into his police cruiser. You watch him peel out of the parking lot before going back inside. It seems like not a lot of people have come in while you were gone so nothing bad happened. You resume your baking in the kitchen and slide in two batches of cupcakes into the oven when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Something isn’t right.

You walk carefully to the closed kitchen door and peer out of the small window to see three men with big guns inside the store. Maria and the other customers huddle together in fear. Are these the three subjects the same ones that the dispatcher was warning Dean about? How did they escape? Why did they come here? Are they looking to steal some food?

You take your phone out and dial Dean’s personal cell and place it to your ear. Pick up, Dean, pick up. Come on, pick up. You get his voicemail because he’s probably busy with the situation he got called away on.

“Dean, I need you here. There are three men with big guns in the bakery. Please hurry. They might be--”

“Hey!”

You look up and lock eyes with one of the suspects. You quickly hang up and duck down but he has already seen you. The man storms into the kitchen and grabs your arm tightly. You’re thrown off balance that your phone is dropped when he drags you out where everyone else is. You don’t struggle to get away in fear of being shot and let them tie you up.

“Are you the owner?” the leader asks. You nod because you have tape over your mouth. “Where’s the money?” You shake your head and he cocks his weapon. “Where’s the fucking money?!”

You mumble something underneath the tape, and one of the them rips it off you.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the pain. “I don’t have a lot of money. You’re wasting your time here.”

“No, you see, I know you have money. I see you leave this store every day with a bag full of it. Where is it?”

“Not here.”

Like hell you’re going to tell them there is a big safe hidden behind a picture frame in the abc with a bunch of cash stored there. You have most of the cash in the bank but you keep a chunk of it here for emergencies only. You’re not going to give them your hard earned money.

“Okay.” The leader points his gun at you and Maria cries where she sits. “You have until the count of three to tell me where the money is or I blow your fucking head off. Deal?”

The fear has sunk in and you start crying not only for you but for everyone else here. MAria is such a good mother and wife, she doesn’t deserve to be killed. Every customer in here has a life, someone they go home to. You cna’t do that to them. You have no idea if Dean got your message so you can’t rely on him to be here and save you.

“One.”

You look up to answer when you spot someone moving behind him. You look and see Dean’s beautiful green eyes looking into yours. He has four other cops with him that snuck in through the back.

“Two.”

He puts a finger to his mouth to tell you to keep quiet, and you look back at the man who is threatening you with a gun.

“Thr--”

“Wait! I’ll tell you!” you gasp.

“I’m waiting.”

“Okay. If I tell you, you let them go. They have nothing to do with this,” you gesture to the other hostages.

“We’ll see. Where’s the fucking money?”

You look behind the three gunmen and notice Dean and the other cops come out quietly with their guns out.

“Right behind you.”

The leader turns right into the barrel of Dean’s gun. He goes to raise his own to fight but notices the other four cops with guns on them. They are outnumbered and they don’t want to die.

“Man, you three were hard to catch. Why’d you come here?” Dean chuckles. “Lower your weapons. All of you. Turn around with hands behind your backs.”

The three men do as they’re told, and three officers put them in handcuffs. Another ones goes over to the hostages and starts to get the out of their ties while Dean rushes over to you.

“Oh, my God, Dean,” you cry.

“I’m right here, baby. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Once free, you get up and run into his arms. You break down crying and he smoothes down your hair in comfort. “I’m right here. You’re okay now.”

One of the cops calls for backup so that the gunmen are taken away in three separate cars. Paramedics come to check everyone out, and the money that the gunmen took is being processed to return back to its owners.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Dean asks.

“Yeah. They didn’t hurt us. Well, one of them grabbed my arm hard but I don’t think it’s enough to form a bruise. I didn’t think you got my message. I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I will always come. I will always be here to protect you,” he promises.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction