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eunoia-writes · 3 months

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Knight In shining armour • Felix Catton x Reader

Request - MAKE A FIC WHERE FELIX IS COMFORTING READER AFTER SHE’S HOSPITALIZED CAUSE SHE DRANK THE LACED CHAMPAGNE BUT DIDNT DIE JUST GOT REALLY SICK PLEASE PLEASE!!!🫶🏻

Warnings - 18+ Smut, Oral (M&F receiving, PinV, Oliver being a creep, Drugging

When y/n awoke without Felix next to her it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Felix typically got up before her to go in hai morning

“Morning Darling.” Elspeth said as y/n approached at the table adorned In Felix’s jumper and her usual bed shorts

“Good morning.” She said with a smile while Duncan brought out her usual of scrambled eggs while she made her way to the breakfast bar grabbing her usual multiple spoons of fruit and few slices of toast.

“Felix and Oliver have headed out of the day so I thought you might like to accompany me and Venetia into town to get costumes for the party tomorrow.” Elspeth said taking a sip of her coffee her eyes not leaving y/n as she walked back to the table

“I’d love to.” Y/n said taking a sip of her orange juice “it’s been far too long since the three of us did anything without Felix.” She added while Venetia laughed

“It would be nice to see you without my brother attached to your hip for once.” Y/n blushed slightly, everyone adored how inseparable the couple were especially Elspeth, she loved seeing how smitten her son was, the way he doted on his girlfriend she just adorned how in love he was.

“Don’t listen to her you two are just darling together.” Elspeth said making y/n smile as she finished up her breakfast before rushing off to get ready for the day.

After hours of walking around the streets of London the three girls got back to saltburn. Y/n walked into Felix room to see him sat on the bed as she carried in multiple bags

“Oh Fi I got us the best costumes for tomorrow you’re going to love it honestly.” She began before she realised something was right

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Y/n put the bags down walking over to him as he looked up at her with tears in his eyes “oh my pretty boy, whatever’s the matter.” Felix took a deep breath as he pulled y/n into his lap

“Ollie lied… about everything.” Felix whispered as her hands came to his face wiping his tears away “I mean everything baby, the stuff with his parents… his dad is alive.” The last four words felt like a bullet In her chest.

“Oh.” Was all she said and Felix knew how hurt she was just from that. Y/n had bonded with Ollie over the loss after she lost her dad a few months prior. She didn’t want to believe that someone could be so cruel.

“I’m so sorry pretty girl.” Felix said as tears rolled down her cheeks

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.” She asked her bottom lip quivering it was taking everything in her not to breakdown sobbing

“I brought him into our lives… I should have known.” Y/n shook her head before kissing him softly

“It’s not your fault.. how were you to know” She mumbled into the kiss before pulling away. She wiped the few stray tears that feel onto his cheeks away before standing back up and clearing her throat.

“Now back to those costumes.”

—

“God baby, you look so fucking hot.” Felix said as y/n came out of the bathroom in her costume. The same gold wings in his back adorned her. The bra, skirt and matching wings combo leaving very little to the imagination. the pair dressed as a Greek god and Goddess which Felix would argue she is regardless of the costume.

“You’re the sweetest.” Y/n leaned up to kiss Felix who’s hands instantly began to roam her body “Fi as much as I would love to stay in your room all night you mother will kiss us if we don’t show after all the effort she’s put into this.”

“Don’t really feel like celebrating.” Felix said his hands on her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck

“I know baby, I’ll make you a deal well go down there and show our faces for a while, have a few drinks and then I’ll finally let you show me round that maze yeah?” She suggested with an innocent smile on her face but the suggestion was far from innocent

“Get moving then pretty girl.” He said wasting no more time making sure to slap her arse as they walked out of his bedroom and down to where the party had already began

“Wow don’t you look hot.” Venetia said as y/n and Felix walked over to her hand in hand the music was already thumping as Elspeth walked over handing the pair a glass of champagne each making sure to tell them how cute there matching costumes are.

“Our dear cousin is out back with something to make this party a little more fun for us.” Venetia said watching the way Felix eyes lit up as he pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s temple before hurrying off.

The pair had managed to avoid Ollie so far that evening while drinking their way through bottle after bottle of whatever they could get their hands on. Felix had hardly taken his hands off her the whole evening when she suggest a late night stroll, although he knew what she was really suggesting.

The couple made their way outside into the cool summers air, the alcohol in their veins doing more than enough to keep them warm.

“You know the way right baby?” Y/n asked as they neared the entrance of the entirely pitch black maze while Felix had stopped to plant sloppy kisses all over her neck mumbling for her not to worry as she ran her hands through his hair.

Felix took the lead their laughter echoing against the labyrinthine walls, stumbled forward, hand in hand. The scent of blooming flowers lingered in the air as they weaved through the twists and turns, their steps becoming a delightful dance of tipsy synchronicity. Every few steps, he paused, their laughter bubbling over into kisses that tasted of desperation mixed with booze.

“My feet hurt.” Y/n mumbled into the kiss as she kicked off her shoes making her even smaller than her boyfriend who always towered over her.

“Not much longer pretty.” Felix said interlocking there hands once again as they continued into the darkness. The maze, a playground for their intoxicated affection, led them to its heart, where, surrounded by the fragrant maze walls, they shared a final, lingering kiss.

“Wow s’lot bigger than I imagined.” Y/n joked looking up at the statue in the center that towered over the pair of them

“The only thing you should be sayings big is me.” He joked as she rolled her eyes in the moonlight cocking her head to the side as she pulled him closer by the buckle of his belt

“Pretty heard to say that when I’ve got my mouth full.” She teased as she dropped to her knees staring up at him while she fumbled with his belt

“God pretty girl you’re killing me.” And just as he was about to have his way with her a loud snap came from a few yard away

“What was that.” She stopped in place much to his dismay

“S’nothibg baby.” Felix’s hands made there way into her hair as she looked up at him pouting slightly but ultimately brushing it off as she continued undoing his belt and pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to pull him out of his underwear

Y/n wrapped both of her hands around the bottle of his length her eyes never leaving his as she kitten licked the tip. Felix let out a shaky breath making him tremble in his spot gripping her hair tighter. Her tongue swirled around his tip before she took him into her mouth her head bobbing up and done and she took more for him each time.

“Fuck just like that.” Felix groaned as her throat tightened around him as she gagged slightly briefly coming up for air before wrapping her mouth around him again she moaned around him as he let our a rather loud moan

“Such a good girl.” He groaned which only encouraged her she kept up her exact pace feeling him tense in her throat.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He said mere seconds before he finished in her mouth with a groan watching as she swallowed him and licked up any mess. Flashing an innocent smile just to top it off.

“God what are you doing to me y/n.” Felix waisted no time tucking himself back into his boxers as he scooped her up placing her on the base of the statue wasting no time attacking there lips as he stood between her thighs his lips trailed down to her neck she let out a soft wine as he found her sweet spot

“Up.” He mumbled into her neck telling her lift her ass up so he could pull her underwear down shoving them into his back pocket while he continued sucking marks on her neck.

He left a trail of open mouthed kisses down her chest to right were she needed him the most before pressing a kissed against her clothed heat “please.” she moaned he smirked looking up at her once more as if he was asking permission

“Fi.” She wined once more before he blew hot air over her swollen clit before diving in. his tongue traced her folds before he lapped at her clit. Y/n’s back arched, electricity bolting through her nerves. Her hands flew to tug at his hair as he lapped at her clit feverishly so Desperate to taste her. He caught her off guard slipping a digit into her, groaned into her when your legs locked around his head, securing him in place. Not that he needed it. He’d stay here forever if she’d let him.

“Please Fi .” She moaned his fingers pumped in and out of her while his tongue made work on her clit. her thighs tremble and eyes roll back into her head. One hand grip the Stone she was sat on her knuckles white, while the other tugged at his locks. The pressure in her abdomen built but so does something else, something deeper at the same time. Felix took note pulling away

“you taste just Devine pretty thing, but not so fast I’m not finished with you yet.” He said as she whimpered at the loss of contact.

She watched as he pulled himself out of his boxers leaning down it kiss her again before he lined himself up with her entrance before he sank into her both of them gasping at the feeling.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned. She was appreciative of his slow thrusts her constant wines were evident of that.

Y/n’s legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer as his hips rocked back and forth

“Faster.” She groaned in his ear as she clenched around him. His free hand moving to wrap around her throat squeezing slightly as his hips moved faster.

Y/n opened her eyes for a few seconds spotting someone in the distance. She let out a gasp pushing Felix off her as she attempted to cover herself

“Ollie what the fuck!” She said as she realised who had been watching them. Felix fumbled to cover himself up before protectively standing in front of y/n.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Ollie.” He said while y/n grabbed into his arm

“We need to talk.” Ollie slurred as he made his was over to the couple. Y/n climbed down off the statue staying hid behind her boyfriend

“You’re a fucking liar Ollie.” Felix said as Ollie got closer and closer

“How could you Ollie, after I confided in you.” Y/n said snatching the bottle of champagne out of his hand chugging most of what was left

“I know I’m so sorry y/n… I really am.” He said but she just shook her head and walked away from the pair cradling the bottle as she wobbled while she listened to Felix and Ollie argue

“You need to leave Ollie.” Felix said his eyes flickering to y/n was was now slightly hunched over

“You’re still my friend? We’ll all still be friends right?” Felix didn’t give him an answer before he rushed over to y/n which Ollie took as his que to leave

“Felix.” She said as she started to go dizzy. Y/n reached out for him while he grabbed onto her

“I don’t feel good.” She whispered before her legs gave way. Alarmed, Felix scooped her up in his arms, concern etching his face.

“Stay with me, baby.” Y/n mumbled something drowsy, her eyes struggling to stay open. Felix, with a sense of urgency, began navigating the maze's twists and turns running as fast as he could carry her

“No baby keep your eyes open.” He said as he held her head up with one hand. As he neared the house he spotted Elspeth seeing a group of her friends off by there cars

“Mum!” He yelled out catching her attention, noticing the distress, she rushed over, her face turning from joyous to concerned.

“I don’t know what happened, no baby keep your eyes open for me.” Felix said once again noticing the way she was struggling to stay conscious “y/n, look at me.” He said as Elspeth rushed them towards the car calling out of Duncan.

Felix sat y/n in the back seat sliding in next to her while his mother told him she’d get the rest of the family before telling Duncan to drive to the hospital as fast as he possibly could while she climbed into the passenger seat.”

“M’tired.” Y/n mumbled incoherently as she fell limp into Felix said

“I know baby, I know but you’ve gotta Stay awake for me.” Felix’s heart was in his throat he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Felix, what happen? Did she take something?” Elspeth asked Felix had never shook his head so quickly

“No mum, she would never. she was fine a few minutes ago.” He said the panic in his voice evident he head tears in his eyes as y/n kept mumbling nonsense to him.

“Love you Fi” He heard her say before she fell unconscious

“Drive fucking faster!” He yelled hitting the back of the seat as he tried to shake her awake but it wasn’t working

“Calm down Felix we’re almost there.” Elspeth said in reality she was also just as panicked. She loved y/n like her own she couldn’t bare the thought of something happening to her.

“I can’t fucking calm down!” He yelled and as soon as they turned into the hospital Felix wasted no time rushing her inside begging for help. Multiple doctors came rushing over taking him from her arms discussing things amongst themselves.

Felix stood frozen in the middle of the room, the weight of fear anchoring him to the spot. The harsh light overhead accentuated the pallor of his face as doctors fired questions about what happened with his collapsed girlfriend. His voice caught in his throat, and his limbs felt like lead, rendering him incapable of articulating the events that led to this moment. The fear consumed him, the uncertainty of y/n’s well-being tightening its grip. Just when the anxiety threatened to suffocate him, the hospital door opens and Elspeth entered, a comforting presence amidst the clinical sterility. Her eyes met Felix's, conveying a silent reassurance that he wasn't alone in this ordeal. In that shared gaze, a glimmer of strength returned to Felix, grounding him in the support of his mother amid the overwhelming uncertainties of the hospital room.

Elspeth took over the questioning answering every question she possibly could as a nurse took Felix into the waiting room where he sank into one of the chairs terrified for y/n’s life. A few minutes later Venetia, his dad and Farleigh came rushing into the room. No one said a word.

Venetia took a seat next to her brother taking his hand in hers trying to offer him some sort of comfort in the horrific moment. The reality of the situation had completely sobered him up the adrenaline of the alcohol wearing off.

“Felix, darling have some water.” Elspeth said handing Felix a plastic cup that she had filled with the water sat off to the side of them. His hands shook as he took a sip of the water finally speaking up for the first time since he’d let the doctors take y/n from his arm.

“I won’t be able to live if something happens to her.” It was almost a whisper but everyone heard it

“She’s going to be okay.” Farleigh not only told Felix but also himself and everyone in the room for that matter all of them having the same sinking feeling.

“But what if it’s not.”

In the hush of the hospital waiting room, Felix ensnared in a web of anxiety, perched on the edge of a hard plastic chair. His knees are caught in a restless rhythm, an involuntary dance fueled by the uncertainty of y/n’s condition. The minutes stretch like elastic as he nervously glances at the clock, each tick amplifying the echo of his worries.

Unable to contain the nervous energy, Felix succumbs to the urge to pace back and forth across the linoleum floor. His steps are uneven, a physical manifestation of the emotional turbulence swirling within. The harsh fluorescent lights cast shadows that play on his strained expression, the weight of concern etched across his face.

Meanwhile, His family huddles nearby, attempting to offer solace in whispered words and gentle touches. Their eyes mirror his apprehension, but they muster comforting smiles and attempts at casual conversation, striving to create a shield against the suffocating atmosphere of the waiting room.

The air is thick with anticipation, each passing second an agonizing reminder of the unknown. Felix, caught between the pull of hope and the gravity of fear, finds solace neither in the uncomfortable chair nor the sterile surroundings. All that matters is the impending news about y/n’s well-being, an answer that lingers just out of reach, teasing the frayed edges of his nerves. What felt like an eternity later a doctor came into the room everyone’s attention on them

“I’m Doctor Robinson I’m y/n’s doctor Today.” The woman started but before she could get another word out Felix croaked

“Is she okay?”

“Y/n is doing better than we could have hoped for her case, you did the right thing getting her here when you did. Her toxicology came back and it looks like she ingested a lethal amount of benzodiazepines which we believe after conversation with Elspeth to be as a result of spiking in something she will have drank at the party this evening.” The doctor explained everyone felt a weight lifted off there shoulders as they said she was doing better

“Can I see her?” Felix asked

“She’s not awake yet, however you are more than welcome to sit at her bedside until she does wake up.” Felix shoot up out of his seat almost instantly the others silently agreeing to let him go alone as he followed the doctor to her room.

Felix heart broke as soon as he walked into the room seeing y/n laying there with multiple IVs stuck in her arm. He chocked back his tears as he made his way to sit next to her taking his hand in hers.

At what felt like only moments later as if she was awoke by his presence she was finally conscious again. Felix kiss the back of her hand as he thanked god for keeping her safe

“Hey pretty.” He whispered softly as a few tears rolled down his cheeks she smiled softly at him squeezing his hand

“Hi.” She croaked out her eyes half open. Her entire body ached as she reached out to wipe his tears away “Don’t cry Fi, I’m okay.”

“You scared me so much baby.” He said as more tears rolled down his cheeks

“god if you had - but I didn’t and I’m okay.” She said knowing where his train of thought was going. She shuffled herself to one side of the bed making room for Felix next to her as she patted the spot which he waisted no time climbing into

“Did they tell you what happen?” She asked as she got comfortable on his chest as Felix petted her head. Felix let out a sigh not sure how to approach the topic.

“The doctors said you had a lot of benzodiazepines in your system.” Felix started and he felt her tense up

“What- I don’t do that kinda thing… I’d never.” She said as tears rolled down her cheeks

“I know baby I know, mum knows that too everyone knows you’re not like that.” He whispered y/n had always made it gleaming obvious she didn’t like the idea of every taking drugs while she never judged those who did she couldn’t bare the thought of losing herself to drugs the way her father did.

“Then how?” She asked knowing exactly how but she needed him to say it

“The doctors think something you drank was spiked.” Felix said and her heart sank. Saltburn was supposed to be a space space where she didn’t have to worry about stuff like that. A place where nothing bad could possible happen.

“You don’t think…” she started and Felix knew exactly what she was hinting at. Ollie. The only thing she had drank that she hadn’t opened the bottle or poured herself was the champagne she snatched from his hands.

“I… I Really fucking hope not.” Felix whispered just as Elspeth and everyone knocked at the door wanting to check in y/n themselves

“Oh darling, I’m so glad You’re okay. You had us all worried sick.” Elspeth said rushing over to y/n’s bedside who gave her a weak smile

“Is there anything we can do or get you?” James said standing next to his wife placing a comforting hand on her shoulder

“I would really just like to go home.” Y/n said and just as Venetia was about yo say she’d go speak to the doctor Felix spoke up

“No, you can’t go home yet.” He began looking down at her “you need to stay here and get better.”

“Fels, I’m okay I just need to rest.” y/n said just as her doctor walked into the room

“Ah y/n, glad to see you’re awake.” She began as she picked up her chart from the end of the bed “I’m sure Felix here told you, we found a lethal amount of benzodiazepines in your system which is what caused you to lose consciousness. If it wasn’t for your lovely family getting you here when they did we’d be looking at a very different outcome.” Y/n squeezed Felix’s hand softly nodding to what the doctor was telling her.

“For now I suggest you go home and rest up take it easy for a few day, which I’m sure everyone in this room will see too that you do and make sure you’re drinking plenty of fluids.” Y/n looked up at Felix while the doctor went to collect the discharge papers

“See baby, I told you I’m okay.” She said as he leaned down to kiss her softly

“I’m so glad you’re okay pretty.”

“Well Im lucky I have you, my knight in shining armour.”

#felix catton #felix catton fanfic #felix catton fluff #felix catton imagine #felix catton saltburn #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #felix catton blurb #saltburn

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champagnefountains · 2 months

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So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!

ALASTOR - H.H.

A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;

Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.

After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling.

However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.

Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.

You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.

You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.

"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.

"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"

Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."

"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.

"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA.

As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.

"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"

"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.

"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"

Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"

"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.

Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."

Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.

"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.

You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.

While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself.

The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.

After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.

You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague.

"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”

Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel.

After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face.

The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.

“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.

“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.”

It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.”

Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.”

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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infinitystoner · 5 months

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First Light

AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Vetrnætr (Winter Nights) is a time to welcome winter and honor the gods of old. But, on the first morning of festivities, the only thing Loki wants to celebrate is you.

Pairing: Prince!Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Tags/Content: Fluff, Praise, Smut (Fingering, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms), Established Relationship, Pre-Thor (2011), Asgard AU

Rating: Explicit; 18+

Author’s note: A belated birthday gift to my amazing friend @loki-cees-all. You are the Goddess of Patience and Mercy and I appreciate you so very much! I hope this one lives up the hype. xx

It was easy to dismiss quiet mornings on Asgard in favor of boundless nights under the stars. But you never felt more content than when the first rays of daylight bathed the kingdom in a hazy glow. Beyond frost-kissed windows, the wind whispered a tale of winter’s early arrival, and you burrowed further under the protective arm curled around your shoulders.

Waking before Loki was a rare occurrence, and you offered up a prayer of gratitude to the Norns when you realized your lover was still slumbering beside you.

He was a being of little sleep, often arguing those bestowed with divinity had more stamina than the average Æsir, therefore requiring less rest. You disagreed.

Well, somewhat disagreed.

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you observed evidence of the prior evening’s chaotic activities: clothing and armor were strewn about the room, pillows and pelts haphazardly adorned the hearthside, and papers from Loki’s desk littered the floor, his bookshelves standing slightly askew. Even the bedposts seemed to be off-kilter.

Loki absolutely had the stamina of a god.

Still, he hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. The past few weeks preparing for Vetrnætr had taken a toll on him. Loki had been responsible for coordinating the arrival of visiting dignitaries and nobility while also leading what he’d described to you as “lighthearted diplomatic discussions” with the royal council of Vanaheim. Queen Frigga, however, had confided that he was single-handedly responsible for not only fortifying Asgard’s long-held alliance between the Vanir and Æsir but also negotiating a new trade agreement between the neighboring realms.

You carefully tilted your face upward, committing the splendor of him in this moment to memory. Swathes of amber light illuminated the rise and fall of his chest, mapping the gentle exhales through parted lips that assured you he was alive. That he was real. That he was yours.

Your family and fellow courtiers had thought you mad when you turned down the advances of several of the Allfather’s golden warriors. But it was when you refused Thor that you’d stirred up any true semblance of trouble. Then again, the elder Odinson had attempted to court at least half the eligible maidens of Asgard, so it wasn’t that scandalous.

What everyone didn’t know then was that your heart secretly belonged to another. And even now, years later, it was hard to comprehend that he returned your affections. But he did, and he made sure you’d never have reason to doubt him.

For so long, he had existed in the shadows of those around him. Only a sacred few saw his light shining through. And once he’d revealed the whole of himself to you, how could anyone else possibly compare?

True, he could be unpredictable and disruptive, but Loki approached everything in life with an unwavering sense of humble dedication. His fidelity was one of the things you loved most about him.

“My beautiful miracle.”

You’d only meant to think it—but hearing the whisper of affection fall from your lips seemed the perfect way to commence the day. Tracing patterns across the exposed skin of Loki’s abdomen, you studied the contours of his handsome face. Long lashes fluttered against high cheekbones as his eyes darted back and forth behind closed lids.

“What is it you dream of?” you whispered, gently placing a kiss on his sternum.

“A prince dreams of many things.”

His reply caused your heart to stutter within your chest. The trickster had been awake all along, basking in the warmth of your sentimentality like a cat soaking up the sun.

“I should’ve known you were only pretending to be asleep,” you pouted as he finally cracked open his eyes to peer down at you.

“Mmm, you should have,” he said as he wrapped his hand around yours, bringing it to his lips and tenderly pressing his lips to your fingertips. “But, I did have the most interesting dream. It’s worth hearing, I assure you.”

Loki was nothing if not convincing, and you were curious.

“Go on then. I’m listening,” you replied with a playful roll of your eyes.

Loki cleared his throat as he fluffed the pillow under his head. Stars above. He was as dramatic as he was mischievous.

“It was the final night of Vetrnætr and the kingdom was blanketed in snow. I was tasked with riding into the forests alone,” he said, absentmindedly trailing his fingertips down your arm as he spoke, “to defeat a great beast with my magick.”

His voice was impossibly alluring, much like Loki himself. Soon, you were clinging to every word—mesmerized by the magnificent man beside you.

“I found myself in the depths of wilderness—where no other soul had dared to tread before. I, of course, was quite brave in the face of this unknown danger.”

“Fearless, some might say,” you offered.

He hummed in agreement, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Finally, I reached my destination. But a horde of Bilgesnipes was blocking the creature I’d come to slay.”

“Oh?” you said apprehensively. He solemnly nodded.

“So, I conjured a simple spell to vanquish them. Imagine my surprise when I realized they were not, in fact, angry Bilgesnipes but your dreadful snores plundering into my subconscious mind.”

Your brain stuttered—did he just? Bilgesnipes?! Loki smirked at the utterly bewildered expression on your face before mimicking the way you opened your mouth in shock. You’d walked right into his little trap and he was enjoying it far too much.

“Loki Odinson! I do not snore.”

You sounded less defiant than you hoped, and—in a bid to get him to renege the obvious lie—you wriggled out from under his arm and tossed a pillow at his stupid, handsome face.

“I beg to differ.” Deep, mirthful laughter rumbled in Loki’s chest. “Now, wait a minute—”

Much to his dismay, you’d moved to the edge of the bed. As you gathered one of the fur blankets around your nude form, Loki propped himself up on his elbows, those stark green eyes focusing on you with an intensity that didn’t seem justified this early in the day.

“Darling, don’t go. I was only teasing.” He grabbed your wrist, and the coolness of his fingers against your flesh sent a thrill rippling through you. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

The offer was tempting but, with Vetrnætr on the literal horizon, you had a never-ending list of obligations to attend to.

“You know we’re both expected at the first morning feast.”

“Yes, and that is still hours from now. Come back to bed.”

“It will take me hours to get ready for the celebrations.”

Loki clicked his tongue as you shimmied off the bed. “What a shame you don’t have a skillful sorcerer at your disposal.”

“Such misfortune,” you quipped, fingers reaching to secure the fur around your shoulders. A curse left your lips as nothing but cold air enveloped you instead. Loki shot you a wink as a wisp of seiðr danced across his palm.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“Where there are wolf’s ears, wolf’s teeth are near.” Dimples adorned the corners of his mouth as he grinned up at you.

“And now you’re not making any sense!”

“So come back to bed, little fox. Please. Help me make sense of things.”

Three thoughts inhabited your mind in this moment: a persistent chill was quickly settling in your bones and Loki’s bed was impossibly warm; applying the ceremonial makeup you were expected to wear today would take at least an hour—and having Loki glamour it on would be terribly convenient; and, finally, you were absolute shit at denying him anything. And Loki knew it.

He stretched his long legs as he awaited your submission. The action caused the silk sheets to settle low around his waist. Shadows traversed the deep V of his Adonis belt like divine brushstrokes while sunbeams highlighted the devastating muscles of his godly physique.

You never stood a chance.

Your pulse quickened as you propped a knee on the mattress, giving him a coy smile. “Satisfied, your highness?”

Loki inhaled as he surveyed your figure. It was easy to assume he was memorizing the smooth curves and soft dips of your body. Every imperfection, dimple, scar—he’d studied and worshiped each precious part of you. But in truth, he knew the map of your body better than he knew the wilds of Asgard—how to expertly navigate your release, to intimately claim you as his time and time again.

“Not quite.” His eyes glinted with desire as he curled his hands around your waist, guiding you to settle against the pillows. You watched in awe as he pulled the sheets over the both of you, adjusting the layers of covers and pelts as he caged you in his arms.

“Perfect.” It was no more than a whisper. But the sense of pride that thrummed through you must have been palpable, because Loki leaned down and brushed his mouth against yours. You barely had time to inhale before his tongue was swiping over your bottom lip and then moving against your own in eager, equal measure. He was heavy on top of you as he settled between your open legs—your collective arousal evident as your bodies seamlessly slotted together. It was exhilarating and grounding and you ached for him. When you dug your fingertips into the firm swell of his ass in a silent plea for more, he broke the kiss.

“What is it, my love?” you asked, noticing a glimmer of tears swelling in his eyes as he pulled away from you. You cupped his cheek, and his gaze flitted across your face.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Loki took in a deep, shuddering breath before kissing you once more. Sparks of white-hot heat ignited your skin as your heart hammered in your chest. Could he sense how wildly it was beating for him? “I’m so proud of you. You know that, right?”

How could words ever truly express that the love you possessed defied explanation, transcended comprehension, and overwhelmed every fiber of your being? How could you adequately convey that his praise was your Valhalla?

You finally managed to say, “I know,” but your response melded into a moan as Loki’s lips made contact with your nipple, rolling its twin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re so good to me.”

“So good,” you echoed, arching into his touch as Loki’s hand skimmed your curves before dipping between your legs.

He found you slick and ready for him, and he easily slid two fingers into your cunt, his palm pushing upwards against your swollen clit. Delicious pressure built in your hips with each skillful turn of his wrist and you greedily bucked into his hand, grasping at his biceps for leverage.

You were quickly losing yourself to the adrenaline searing through you, igniting every nerve ending like a thousand meteors shooting across the night sky. Still, you knew Loki revelled in the euphoria of your unraveling just as much as you did. He yearned to hear your small whimpers of pleasure, to feel your hands on his body and your fingers twisting in his hair as you came undone at his touch. To be connected without reservation.

He’d once confided in you that the reassurance of your touch sparked something within him comparable only to his seiðr—you had become just as much a part of him as the ancestral magick that flowed through his very veins. Imagining a reality without either was like envisioning a world without sunlight or stars.

“Loki. Loki.” His name was witchcraft on your lips and his fingers deftly twisted inside you in response. When he slowed his movements, you clenched around him, desperately running your hands over the broad expanse of his shoulders. His skin was damp with sweat, his muscles quivering under your fingertips.

“And so eager. Gods, you’re gorgeous when you’re about to come apart.”

When Loki was nestled between your thighs, worshiping your body as if you were the only thing in all the Nine, time stood still. You were teetering on the edge of sweet release—right where he wanted you. A frustrated noise caught in the back of your throat as he removed his fingers, your thighs trembling as your climax began to ebb.

“Patience.” He spoke purposefully against your heated skin, as if reciting an invocation.

“Til árs ok friðar.” Loki paused, looking up at you with eyes so full of adoration you felt as though your heart would burst. He repeated the ancient phrase. “For a good year. And peace. That is my wish for you—for us—my love.”

You were completely lost under his spell. Your only tether to reality was Loki. His forearm heavy across your midriff. His tongue flat against your clit.

“F-faen, I’m– please,” you slurred, your chest heaving with ragged, uneven pants.

“That’s it,” Loki coaxed. “Come undone for me.”

At his words, the overwhelming tightness in your core snapped. Your orgasm ripped through your body—your mind clearing itself of every lingering thought. The wild beat of your heart became the soundtrack of your bliss and you sobbed as the tip of his regal nose rubbed against your sensitive clit. His tongue continued to lap at the warm center of your cunt as aftershocks rolled through you, your body involuntary jerking at the overstimulation.

“Too much…”

“One more, darling. If not for me, for Asgard.” A wicked grin spread across his face—his lips and chin glistening with your arousal—before he dipped his head back between your thighs. “Consider it a royal decree.”

It was pointless to argue with him, especially when he set his mind to something. You wound your fingers into his unkempt hair, and before long, you were curling up off the bed as you juddered under his touch for the second time.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you came down from your high. Loki pressed his forehead to yours.

“A final gesture of goodwill,” he murmured, the blunt tip of his cock nudging your entrance.

“We’ll be late to breakfast. I- I dare not disgrace your good name, my prince,” you said, gasping into his mouth as he pushed deeper inside you. You didn’t care if you missed every single celebratory banquet this week.

“I’m honored you think so highly of me, little wife.” You groaned in unison as he bottomed out with a swirl of his hips. “But it would not be the first time we’ve vexed the House of Odin thus. Nor the last, I hope.”

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki #loki fluff #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

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neolxzr · 6 months

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OK so heres some of my favorite things that were talked about during the enter the florpus commentary thing yesterday:

one of jhonen's favorite things in the whole movie is the writing in zim's kitchen that says "do anything is real?"

they clarified specifically that gir was not lying and he did in fact eat a baby at the crazy taco

gir smells REALLY bad. theres like rotting organic matter in his body at all times. he stinks

zim's human suit is made out of actual human skin

zim is acting drunk on nacho cheese during that scene in his house because richard horvitz recorded it while drunk

they planned to have this whole thing with tak's ship only agreeing to go to moo-ping 10 because it knows tak is there. they wouldve shown her in silhouette during that brief explosion and she wouldve stowed away on the ship without anyone knowing and then wouldve shown up towards the end of the movie, but they decided to cut it out

zim did not need to frame membrane for a crime in order to get him into space prison and likely just tossed the guards like 5 bucks for it. its a shady place. they did specify though that if he did frame him for something, it would have been jaywalking

they pointed out during that scene where zim is celebrating peace day on dib's lawn that zim's reaction to seeing dib was very much genuine and that's just how his brain works. he is genuinely surprised to see him pop out of his own house. (they also described his reaction as like "being surprised to see your best friend")

the ham joke was ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to the film and at some point jhonen remembered it and was like GUYS. WE ALMOST FORGOT THE HAM

there was supposed to be this joke where it cuts to and from gaz and dib in tak's ship and they would've had to stop at like a warp station or something and theyd be waiting in a long queue of spaceships and the radio is broken in the ship so theyre stuck listening to that one song. then itd cut to them like totally braindead drooling from listening to it for so long. and then a little later itd cut back a FINAL time and theyd know all of the words and both be singing along to it. but this was also cut out so only the last bit remained

when asked "who would win: minimoose or mrs. bitters?" the answer was along the lines of "neither, i think all of us lose in that scenario"

the tallest are just two dudes who happen to be the same height and therefore have to share the same job. they are not brothers and they are also not gay lovers ("as much as you want them to be, they are not. there is no love in this universe")

skooge is in fact alive and lives in zim's basement. they wanted to keep the number of "hey remember this thing from the tv show!" moments to a minimum so he was not mentioned in the movie. but he is there

#cryn rambles #invader zim #this is based pretty much entirely off of my memory btw Sorry i was not taking notes #im sure people will be uploading clips and stuff i saw people recording on their phones at different points #but i was not one of them. my phone was already like 3/4ths of the way dead when i walked in #also zadf real ANYWAYYY #kinda obsessed w jhonen's rapr shade LMAO #the whole thing was fucking hysterical im so glad i was able to go #anyways. there was so much more but these were some of my favs or just ones i thought were notable #also jhonen was excited for alan wake 2 today. my friend (big alan wake fan) was very excited to hear this info #iz tag

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spicysix · 11 months

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📖 + "I think... I'm in love with (Name)" || "Congrats on being the last one to find out" prompt w eddie omgomgomg💗 also congrats on 400 angel <33

thank you my loveee 💖💖💖

here comes, hope you like it! (a little dialogue heavy, sorry for that!)

join the celebration!

every day for us, something new

"Gonna make some more popcorn, guys! Get the next one ready," you said, getting up from the couch where you were sitting between Eddie and Argyle.

"Get me another coke, please!" Robin, from the floor, asked.

"Oh, get me another beer, sweetums, will 'ya?" Eddie joined in.

"No one else ask me anything, I don't have hands for more!" you exclaimed before leaving for the kitchen.

Movie nights were routine at this point. After all the trauma and the babysitting and the saving the world, the least you all deserved were some fun nights chilling with your friends. Steve or Nancy would host, you'd all take turns choosing movies for the week, and you'd get together to watch and gossip and just be around each other in non-threatening ways. There was no bond like the one created between life-or-death situations.

Eddie's eyes followed you as you walked out of Steve's living room. Jonathan chuckled.

"What?" Eddie asked and Nancy and Robin groaned in unison.

"You are. So. Dense," Nancy complained.

"I don't think he's dense, I think he's just stupid," Robin completed. Eddie hated how she and Nancy came to sharing a single braincell lately.

"C'mon, let's take it easy on our brochacho. The matters of the heart aren't easy," Argyle said, words all considerate but his smirk was nothing but teasing, and Eddie wanted them all to just shut the fuck up.

There was a loud noise from the kitchen, and Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

"Don't worry, I'm okay!" you called out before anyone could even say anything, to Eddie's relief, and he sat down again.

All of his friends were looking at him funny. What was this plot against him, honestly?

"What's going on?" he asked, waving his arms around in annoyance.

"Dude. Use a single neuron. You'll understand," Steve advised, letting out a dramatically exhausted sigh.

Eddie just stared back at them, one at a time, for several minutes. Trying to find the answers in one of his friends' eyes, or just hoping to be scary enough to make them tell him at once.

"I can't do this, he's the dumbest man alive," Jonathan said after a long while in silence.

What were you even doing in the kitchen for such a long time? Popcorn gets ready in like, five minutes.

"He's never been in love before, maybe he just doesn't recognize it," Steve pitched in, and he knew that information because Eddie had told him once.

What did it have to do with anything?

"What does being in love has anything to do with this? Who's in love here? No one's in lov-" he started, and then he stopped.

Thought about your smile, and that funny little laugh you saved only for his stupid jokes. The way you'd hug him tighter and longer than everyone else. The way you and Robin shared perfumes, a fragrance he didn't really like much, but on you he'd love - something about the way it'd interact with your natural skin smell, and it intoxicated him in the best of ways. He thought about how soft your skin was, and how he loved when you ran your fingers through his hair. He thought about how he thought about you first thing when he woke up, and he thought about you last thing before sleeping. How he thought about you even when asleep - how he'd dream of you, and him, your hands clasped together, your lips on his.

"Oh my god, I think I'm in love," he muttered.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out," Nancy answered. He just looked at her, freezing, hands trembling a little. "What are you thinking about so much, just go!" She nodded at the kitchen and, once again, Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

He practically ran to the other room.

"Steve, your cabinets are a nightmare," you said, back turned to the door as you heard steps.

"Not Steve," he said, and you turned to face him. That smile, the one reserved just for him, on your lips.

"Eddie! Here to help me? Does anyone want something else?"

He just shook his head and walked closer to you. Took your hand on his, and your skin was just as soft as he thought about constantly.

"Is everything okay?" you asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, just came to a realization."

"Care to share with the class?" your words all teasing but your smile was nothing but sweet. He wanted to kiss you.

"I want to kiss you," he said out loud.

Your smile grew wider, "Well, do it, then."

And he did. And it was so much better than in his dreams. Yous lips were soft and tasted of whatever soda you were drinking, and your hands craddled his neck and you sure could feel his pulse going a million miles per second. But he didn't care, because you seemed eager for more, tongue poking at his lips and he let you in, and it was like fireworks exploding inside his head. He feelt fuzzy, and warm all over, and the happiest he's ever been. Because he's in love with you, he realized, and he was kissing you and you were kissing him back.

It felt like years before you separated, both panting a little.

"Oh, man, I like you so much," you mumbled, lips still almost pressed to his so he feelt every vibration in each of your words. It tingled him, head to toe, in and out.

"That's my realization," he responded, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again when you heard steps behind you.

"C'mon, slow lovebirds, where's my damn popcorn? I wanna watch the sequel!" Robin showed up, picked up the popcorn bowl and her coke before leaving again.

You and Eddie laughed, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again.

Neither of you got to watch much of the sequel.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #lui's strange celebration #lsc 📖#lui writes

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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Astarion Very Happy Ending, Part 2

Hey y'all, so I did a part two of this because I love happy, insanely, fluffy romantic endings. So I'm going hard here. There will be one more part!

Also, don't judge my Gale x Shadowheart bs here 💀💀 Long story short, first playthrough that was abanadoned, I picked her orgin and did get sweeped up by the mage man. It has not left my brain since.

Also, this has a time skip! A pretty long one too (10 years)

Astarion had been having… thoughts lately. Ideas that he couldn’t quite shake. Nothing bad, no. There really wasn’t much to complain about in his life, not anymore. Not when he could walk in the sun freely, unburdened by parasites and his own vampiric nature. The two of you were free to explore the world with no shackles, not including your religious zealotry. And ironically enough, his own.

Astarion would never have guessed that he’d ever become a Selune convert. Well… even now convert may have been to strong of a word. Yes, he was immensely appreciative for the whole sun immunity blessing and he did have a newfound respect for the work of her worshippers. But Astarion wasn’t exactly looking for a deity, or anyone, to be subservient to. Not again. No, he’d much rather watch his love do the dirty work for his savior than fully commit himself. Besides, just because he wasn’t devoted to Selune didn’t mean he wasn’t devoted to you. Which might as well have been the same thing.

Astarion loved you, adored you really, but gods could you be nonsensical at times. He was so happy the two of you had met because someone had to keep this idiotic fanatic alive. Someone to remind you that no darling, not everyone is redeemable. Please put the goblin down.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being your protector. It was the least that he could do considering everything you’d done for him. And he just… liked having a valid excuse to accompany you everywhere. Astarion had never imagined himself to be such a clingy lover, but here he was. The two of you had been attached at the hip for nearly a decade now, with no end in sight. You had built a life together, had friends together, adventures and celebrations that filled his days with endless excitement and amusements.

That is one thing Astarion had to give Selune and her worshippers, they didn’t exactly lead boring lives. Though he supposed half of that had to with just how involved the opposition was. The two of you had slaughtered enough acolytes of Shar over the years for him to know just how covert they really could be. But it wasn’t just bloodsport that made things interesting, though it certainly did help. The exploring for ancient artifacts definitely helped to fill the time, as well as the constant search to find a cure for the rest of his unholy symptoms.

As great as being in the sun was, Astarion wasn’t quite satisfied with that being the end. It was almost certainly impossible to find a full on cure to being a vampire spawn but… that wasn’t stopping either of you from looking for it. It was morbid, but Astarion wanted his life to have an ending. A natural one like what he hoped for you, not one where he was doomed to immortality and bloodlust until the end of time.

Thank the gods that he had managed to fall in love with an elf. It at least gave him centuries instead of decades to figure out a solution to an eternal problem. Which brought him back to his current problem. Because the two of you had many, many years ahead. And as far as Astarion was aware you both planned on spending them with each other. Which implied… certain things.

Astarion had never been someone to fantasize about marriage. He had no reason to, not when he had been too busy barely surviving. Even when things became serious between the two of you it hadn’t been on his mind. He was much more concerned with keeping you at all instead of keeping you forever.

But that had changed recently. Maybe it was because he had seen you officiate countless weddings over the years; young couples always clamoring at a chance to get a newlywed Selune blessing. Or maybe it was how others took note of the lack of a ring on his finger, taking it as an opportunity for unwanted flirtation. But either way, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing about it really, as he was want to do when it came to you.

He just… didn’t exactly know how to broach the subject. What was the reason? A silly little ceremony and a ring had no bearing on the depth of your relationship. He knew that. The two of you were bound to each other by choice, a love that felt as though it got stronger every day. But… it would be nice to have you in such a way. For the world to be aware of the seriousness of what you had together, shown simply through a pair of rings. And the thought of calling you his wife was quite enticing.

He wasn’t quite sure why he was so hesitant to bring it up to you. Well… there was the slight delusional thought in his head that reminding you of forever could possible wake you up into realizing just how much better you could do than him. It wasn’t true, he was aware. But gods, your relationship had lasted a damn decade. When was he going to start feeling secure about all of this?

It didn’t help when Gale of all people beat him to the punch. He and Shadowheart had developed quite the bond since your tadpole days. And your excitement over the announcement was adorable. Adorable enough for him to wonder just how you would react to it happening to you.

But he shoved his worries to the back of his mind, too busy being dragged all the way to Waterdeep for the week-long nuptials. You were highly involved in the wedding, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Shadowheart had stayed your best, most appreciated friend throughout the years, the two of you eternally tied through your shared goddess alone. You wrote to each other constantly and this was far from the first time you had dragged him across the realm for a visit.

But this was probably the best time. He had to give the people of Waterdeep this, they knew how to celebrate. He wasn’t one to complain over a week filled of music, dance, and drink. The ceremony had been nice as well. Heart-warming even to watch Shadowheart walk down the aisle, smiling in a way she never could when she was devoted to Shar. With Gale sniveling at the other end and you officiating of course.

The jealousy had been an unexpected touch. He couldn’t help but wonder what you would look like in her place. Dressed in white and silver, walking towards him with eternity in mind.

It certainly wasn’t helping his dilemma, he could tell you that much. He was still thinking about it when they made it to the reception. It was impossible to bury thoughts of marriage when you were at a wedding. Would you want a large celebration like this? Or something more small and intimate? Hells, the two of you and a cleric in the middle of the woods would suffice to him.

“To think, Astarion Ancunín at my wedding in the sunlight,” Gale laughed as he plopped down in the seat next to him, effectively putting an end to his internal fretting, “Who would have ever imagined?”

“Certainly not me,” Astarion scoffed with the slightest hint of a smile, “But I suppose things change.”

“I suppose they do,” Gale agreed, his eyes scanning the dancefloor for his new bride. There she was, dancing and giggling with you in the middle of ballroom, “I just never expected it to be for the better.”

“It is a wonder that we’re all still alive,” Astarion agreed, smiling to himself when Shadowheart dipped you as you laughed hysterically, nearly falling over herself in the process, “Let alone being able to find love. Who would have thought the worshiper of the goddess of the dark would end up here.”

“Turns out she was hiding quite the personality behind the Shar mask,” Gale laughed, “Though I suppose we have Tav to thank for that. It was a real fight on who would have her as their best woman. A fight we both obviously lost. Though officiating seemed a good compromise.”

“She certainly has the experience,” Astarion sighed, “But I have a feeling this one will be her favorite. She’s happy for you two. We both are.”

“I’m happy for you too you know,” Gale added with a small smile, “I always thought the two of you would work out. I even made a killing in the pool we had going on for it.”

Astarion stared at him, brow raised, “You had a pool?”

“Oh absolutely,” Gale confirmed, completely shameless as he listed out the rules, “It got quite competitive after awhile. First, it was all about if you’d ever realize your feelings for her. Then when you went and did that we were betting on how long you’d both last before you left. And then when that didn’t happen, well. Let’s just say I got a few platinums richer.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at the news, barely even surprised, “I feel as though I’ve earned a cut of that.”

“Unfortunately it’s now our honeymoon fund. But I’ll owe you one.”

That was another aspect of this whole debacle that Astarion hadn’t even thought about. But gods, did it sound nice. Whole weeks dedicated strictly to the two of you. No religious duties or adventures to worry about, just… them.

The joy of the thought must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew Gale was looking him up and down, a small smirk on his lips, “What’cha thinking about over there?”

“That this wine is mediocre at best,” Astarion lied, avoid Gale’s eyes, “Tell me you at least got a good deal on it?”

But Gale wasn’t taking the bait. He was still watching him like a hawk. That was the problem with getting closer to people, and having, gods friends.

You had to deal with the discomfort of being read like a book, “Does our little Astarion want to be wed?”

Astarion flinched at the accuracy, taking the time to shoot him a glare as he avoided the question, “I am nearly three centuries older than you.”

“Perhaps, but we both know two of them don’t count,” Gale said, barely missing a beat, “So tell me, do you already have a ring picked out?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I can help you pick one you know, there are many fantastic jewelers in Waterdeep. I believe she has the same ring size as Shadowheart, we can bring her along.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the small blush creeping up his neck, “I want you to know that if this wasn’t your wedding day I would have slapped you by now. Consider my reluctance as your wedding present.”

“How generous of you,” Gale chuckled. But then he started to speak quieter, his voice taking on a more gentle and serious tone, “She would say yes you know. You’ve had her wrapped around your finger since the day you held that dagger to her throat.”

That was an exaggeration, but Astarion would be lying if he said the mention didn’t make him preen the slightest bit, “You forget that I did have competition.”

“Oh, barely,” Gale laughed, “You don’t get to reminisce of what could have been when you won. Gods, no one had any chance against you. And trust me, we tried.”

Astarion blinked at him, more than a little surprised, “You did?”

“Of course we did. We all did. What do you think Shadow and I bonded over? But the pining stopped eventually. Then it became…something more. Something deeper. She’s… a magnificent woman, my little shadow. Who has gone through too much…” Gale trailed off, his eyes still following his bride as he softly smiled, “Suffice to say, neither of us are pining anymore. And I’m sure Shadow would love nothing more than to help plan her dearest friend’s nuptials.”

“Who ever said that you two would be involved?” Astarion scoffed, just to be an ass, “For all you know we’ll elope in Neverwinter.”

But Astarion’s grip backfired, if the smile on Gale’s face meant anything, “So that means you are going to propose?”

Oh for fucks sake. Astarion glared at him for the accuracy, at a loss for words. Besides it… it was true. Of course he was going to ask, where else would this fanatic line of thinking end? He just hadn’t expected Gale of all people to be the one to force him to admit it.

“I-yes,” Astarion sighed, finally giving in, “Are you happy now? Yes, I’m going to.”

“Extremely,” Gale grinned, “Because you just won me another three hundred gold.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #cute bullshit #proposal planning #yeah we're getting married #who can stop me #you can't #fluff #fluffy fluffy fluff

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kikyo-bnha-imagines · 8 months

Note

Reader with a memory loss condition, any character, hella angst 🙏

BAKUGOU KATSUKI | MEMORY LOSS

Katsuki thought he’d lost you for good. The sight of you covered in blood, eyes squeezed shut, and barely even breathing... it was almost too much to bear. If he couldn’t even protect the person he loved most, then how the fuck could he call himself a hero?

But against all odds, you survived. The universe decided to have mercy this time, even though he’d failed to protect you. He’d fucked up, and the guilt would follow him forever, but at least he was being granted a second chance.

Unfortunately, your life had come at no small price.

“I have to warn you, Bakugou,” the doctor frowns. “She’s... different now. All of the healing and surgery have taken care of her life-threatening injuries, but she suffered severe head trauma, and it’s put her in a state of disorientation.”

Katsuki clenches his jaw. “What are you trying to say? I know it’s gonna take her a while to recover. It’s not like I expect her to be up and running right away. As long as she’s safe—”

“I’m referring to her brain. Well, more specifically, her memories. We did an initial screening, and it’s quite clear that she’s suffering from amnesia.” The doctor offers a sympathetic smile. “I just wanted you to know, so that you can prepare yourself.”

“...oh.”

Katsuki doesn’t know what else to say. Really, what can he say? You’re alive. That simple fact alone is worthy of celebration. He's just grateful that you’re still here, living and breathing. He doesn’t have to say goodbye to you. He’ll never, ever be ready to say goodbye to you.

“This is still a very early diagnosis,” the doctor reassures. “Following a traumatic event, some patients suffer memory loss for a few days, weeks, or in rarer cases, months, but it’s not guaranteed to be permanent. In fact, temporary amnesia is far more common. It just takes a while for the brain to repair itself.”

“I get it,” Katsuki nods. Right. It’s all going to be fine. You’ve just come out of a life-threatening battle, so it’s no wonder if your mind is in disarray.

There’s no need to panic. Katsuki loves you, and you love him.

As long as you’re together, whatever it is, you’ll get through it.

“If you’re ready, then you’re welcome to go see her now,” the doctor encourages.

Katsuki doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps into the hospital room without sparing a breath, and sure enough, there you are. Sweet, lovely [Name]. The love of his life, all covered in bandages, but looking just as beautiful as always.

Katsuki swallows his tears. He already cried his heart out when he first thought you were a goner, and he cried even more while you were in intensive care. There’s no point in crying anymore, not when you’re alive and well. Seeing him with a weak, broken expression won’t do you any good.

For your sake, he needs to be strong.

“[Name],” Katsuki mumbles. He walks over to your bedside and pulls out a chair so he can sit close. He isn’t normally much of a smiler, but being next to you like this—something he thought he’d never be able to do again—makes his lips curl up at the sides and tremble in relief.

You’re alive. Your injuries have been healed, for the most part, and there won’t be any lasting damage. There’s no reason why you won’t be able to keep enjoying life, just as you've done up until now.

Overwhelmed with emotion and the desire to feel the warmth of your skin against his, Katsuki reaches out to grab your hand.

You recoil immediately, and in that moment, Katsuki’s heart shatters.

“Sorry,” you swallow. “Um. I don’t... I don’t know who you are.”

He feels like he’s about to throw up. The doctor mentioned amnesia. He did mention amnesia. But... isn’t this way too extreme? This is like the kind of stuff that happens in movies, or when elderly patients are in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s.

You blink, searching his expression for a clue. “I’m sorry,” you frown. “I feel like I should know you. It sounds like you know me. But it’s just hard. It feels like my head is all foggy. I’m really, really sorry...”

And then you start crying. You cry and cry, even though you can’t possibly be to blame, and all the while, Katsuki is helpless to do anything but watch.

“It’s not—” He swallows hard, wiping his eyes so that he doesn’t start crying too. “I-It’s okay,” he chokes out. “It’s not your fault, [Name]. I’m Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki. Does that name sound familiar at all? It’ll come back to you. I promise it will.”

“I don’t know,” you sob. “I don’t know. I just don’t know...”

He’s never wanted to hug you more in his entire life, but how can he? From your perspective, he’s nothing more than a stranger. You wouldn’t even let him hold your hand. All of those years spent together, all of those incredible memories you’d shared... they’re gone. Just like that.

“It’s not your fault,” Katsuki mumbles brokenly.

He says it again and again, but he’s not even sure you hear him over the sound of your own cries.

The past few months have been the hardest of Katsuki’s entire life, and regretfully, the days ahead aren’t going to get any easier.

Your amnesia is permanent. Or, at the very least, the odds of you making a recovery at this point are so small they may as well be zero.

Katsuki isn’t the only person you’ve forgotten. You forgot a good chunk of the classmates you went to U.A with, major life events, and even certain encounters with villains—including the very incident that nearly claimed your life. The doctor said it’s very common for traumatic events to be forgotten, and while Katsuki is glad that you don’t have to remember something so horrible, why did you have to forget all the good stuff too?

It’s just not fair. Katsuki knows he should be grateful. He still gets to see your pretty, smiling face, he still gets to talk to you and hear you laugh from time to time. None of that would have been possible if the doctors hadn’t fought tooth and nail to save your life. At least you’re still young, your body is in healthy, functional shape, and the personality he fell for is still largely unchanged.

Katsuki doesn’t want to complain. He doesn’t want to take what he still has for granted.

But it just really fucking hurts.

He hasn’t been able to hold you in months. He hasn’t been able to kiss you either. Even though he’s told you that the two of you used to date, you’ve forgotten all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. It’s taken time for you to let your guard down, especially since everything’s so difficult to make sense of.

You’re friends. At the very least, Katsuki is still a part of your life. But every time he cracks an inside joke or accidentally makes a reference to something that happened in the past, and he sees the confused look in your eyes, a part of him breaks.

Still, he refuses to stop trying. He’ll never stop trying. The doctors said that certain memories can trigger other ones, and in rare cases, even patients with severe memory loss were able to make a miraculous recovery.

Katsuki never used to be the type of person to hold out hope for a miracle, but nowadays, it’s all he ever wishes for.

“It’s pretty here,” you say, sighing happily. Your gaze flickers towards the beach’s shoreline, and you admire the gentle, rippling waves as the sun descends through the sky.

Katsuki just stares at you. “You’re prettier,” he replies.

“Oh, pfft,” you brush off. “Quit hitting on me.”

He wants to do more than just hit on you. He wants you wrap his arms around you and slam his lips against yours, meeting you in the most desperate, passionate kiss he can muster. If it was up to him, the two of you would already be rolling around in the sand right now, bodies pressed together so close that you could feel each other’s heartbeat.

But he can’t. You’re not ready yet. You’re not ready, and... you’ve forgotten. You’ve forgotten the happiest moments of his life.

So, he’ll wait. There’s nothing else he can do but wait. Starting over from the beginning is painful and gut-wrenching. It’s an endless cycle of despair. You might never remember. There’s a chance you might not even fall in love with him again.

But at least you’re alive. At least you’re here with him right now.

Katsuki will never stop trying, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he cries. He’ll form new memories with you, and even if those disappear one day too...

He’ll just start all over again.

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #romance #mha headcanons #bakugou katsuki x reader #angst #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha oneshots #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou

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euorian-pdf · 3 months

Text

Pt. 2"눈을 보고 말할래요. "보고 싶었어요"

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆synopsis: you're living your best life, leaving everything behind in the past however a small 'family' gathering at Levi's home threatens to unfold everything.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆contains: modern au! everyone, Levi's mom and uncle are alive in this au, mentions of swearing but not actual swearing, Carla is also alive, Eren's dad is absent, mentions of medication.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆wc: 9.8K.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆tw: swearing, mentions of pills, medication use and brief manipulation.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ Here is 1 and 3

Life is going great.

You're done with finals, you're graduating in a few weeks, and you've prepared your graduation gown and a bucket list of all the places you'd like to visit during your friend group trip to the country you've always wanted to travel to.

You've made new friends, such good loving friends. You love them like a relative, like a long lost possession about to bid its goodbye once more. You cherish the time you spend with them and they've shown you that they feel the exact same way.

All of you get along so well, you find joy and solace in each other's company, and the laughter is actually genuine. It's a huge contrast to the previous chapter of your life, where toxicity and ugly attitudes were all you knew about friendships. Now, the warmth of genuine friendships surrounds you. And you couldn't be more grateful.

You've also fallen in love with composing songs and soundtracks, which was originally brought up by a friend of yours after they saw you playing around with a launchpad and they started grooving crazily to the beat you made up on the spot and other times you created melodies that made them cry.

So now, you part-time compose soundtracks for this new uprising director, Levi Ackerman. He's French-Japanese, very well-known in the film industry and you may or may not have the biggest crush on him. He's blunt, reserved, stoic, and loaded with creativity. Nowadays, you are working on his breakthrough project, his films create a canvas for your musical symphonies and all of this wouldn't have happened if your friends didn't lovingly force you to email him your samples.

Honestly, they are your biggest hype-mans, your number-one fans, and your admirers. They tell you that you're so talented that if you released some of your music, you'd be winning awards left to right. But you don't think they'll believe you if you tell them.

You have won awards, plenty of them, more than you can count however the problem is you've won them indirectly.

4 years have passed ever since you went no contact with your 'old friends' and in those 4 years while you were living your best life, working hard to get to where you are right now, they have become popular and not just '10K popular and one viral hit' popular, we're talking about '10 million albums sold, a world tour (and another one coming up), Billboard's most weeks on chart, surpassing world legends and 3 Grammys' popular. Connie on the other hand became a YouTuber and he's amassed a total of 13M subscribers and Historia started a fashion company on par with the leading designers of today.

Half of the songs on their albums that supposedly broke the charts were produced by none other than...you. Most of the ideas on Connie's YouTube channel were brainstormed by the both of you and you see familiar designs on the clothes that celebrities wear because it was you who created that blueprint.

The last two you can't take much credit for but for the songs? Your compositions, your melodies which you have poured all your soul into, have become the backdrop of their meteoric rise.

You don't know how to feel, everything seems so bittersweet.

On one hand, there's pride in your work being recognized on such a grand scale. On the other, there's the confusion and overall sense of unease that comes with the realization.

You had so many questions surrounding this topic such as, 'Why didn't they credit you' and 'Did they do it on purpose or was it accidental'

After all, no one knows where you are, you are left with no information, you cut off everyone and now that you think it through, realistically there was no way to credit you.

While curious about their whole uprise to fame, you remind yourself that although you do deserve the credit and the fame, it's not what you're looking for right now. You've got a different helmet on and if you have to regain contact with them to gain your rightfully so credit, they might as well keep it.

You are interrupted from your session of zoning out by a p!ng, an email pops up on your computer with the subject being Urgent and the sender being Levi Ackerman.

Urgent:

come over.

You've grown accustomed to his antics by now, as you have been working together for about 2 years now. If he says 'It's urgent' it's very likely that it's just 'I don't want to ask anyone else because it's embarrassing so I'll ask you'

So you reply back with a call, smiling to yourself as you decide to tease him a little. After the 5th ring, he picks up which is funny considering he's just staring at the phone ringing until he deems it's the right ring to answer to seem like he was busy.

"What?" He asks sighing as if he has better things to do with his time.

"Oh no, it's nothing. I'm just wondering when you'll switch to texting because I can't really keep up with fossils" you reply trying to get a rise out of him.

"The only thing fossil is your humour" He retorts unfazed as he sips on something in the background, obviously tea.

"Are you sure it's not your age, I'm pretty sure you were friends with Aurelius at one point"

"Cute, are you sure it's not your personality, I'm sure I've met thousands of people with the exact same everything as you."

"Ouch, I didn't deserve that" you reply, feigning hurt in your voice when you're actually just joking.

"So what do you need? What is so urgent" you ask, curious of what it is this time.

"Come over and you'll know" He responds curtly and before you can respond, he hangs up on you. You scoff, internally noting to give him an earful when you get to his place. You roll your eyes at his attitude, his characteristic not unfamiliar to you.

With a quick text to your roommate, you inform her about your plans for the night and that food is in the fridge. Anticipating her lack of response due to her own night out partying, you head out, leaving the message to be read by her whenever she can.

Levi's home is a 15-minute drive from your apartment, he lives in the middle of the very fashioned neighborhood. Despite being full of creativity and the creator of films that have everyone on the edge of their seat, the man can't design his house at all. He has the design of a monochromatic minimalist, with no sign of color anywhere, you can't stand it. Everything is grey there, you feel the color getting sucked out of you when you enter his house.

Finally, you arrive there quickly enough as the road to his neighborhood is quite deserted. You struggle to park the car in his driveway as it's very narrow but after a few minutes, you manage.

Guess rich people don't leave their houses, you think as you ring the doorbell to his house.

He opens the door and stands there with his nth cup of tea somewhat observing you before telling you 'You know the drill, I'll be in the office'.

Ah, the drill, how could you forget? You give him a sarcastic smile before watching him walk off and adhere to the so-called drill.

You have to take off your shoes, put them in a disinfectant bag, seal it up, and hang it on the shoe rack. As well as disinfecting your hands twice and hanging your coat and bag on a coat rack where you clean it both with some weird lint roller he has. You don't mind it really, it is his house after all.

After doing all that, you put on some guest slippers and head to his office. The house hasn't changed since your last visit, it's almost vibrating with greyness. You feel like smiling is forbidden, which may be, in the comfort of his home.

You turn a corner and see him sitting in his office chair playing back parts of his last movie and writing notes on how to improve. The mood would be better if the office had some sort of personality to it but no, this is an asylum.

"You know I recently came across a color palette, and it immediately reminded me of you, It was more on the brown side, with beautiful shades of wood, warm earth tones, and hints of amber." You share with Levi, attempting to bring a touch of color into the monochromatic conversation.

"There were even hints of grey" You add to gain his curiosity after he seems to have ignored you at the first attempt at making conversation.

Levi raises an eyebrow and stares at you through the rim of his glasses, clearly unimpressed by the mention of color invading his sanctuary of grayscale. "Why would a color palette remind you of me?" he questions, his tone conveying sarcasm and a hint of curiosity.

You chuckle, finding his reaction predictable. "Well, it had a certain rugged elegance like someone I know and also because I think it would suit you"

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, a faint trace of a sarcastic smirk playing on his lips. He gets up from his desk to head towards the office cabinet. "Flattery won't change my stance, I like how things are just fine. "

"I don't know what kind of colour trauma you've obtained during your centuries of living but to each their own, I guess" You joke smiling widely as he deadpans at your joke of his age before you change the subject and look upon where he's going. He has a teacup collection in his office cabinet, you think but shrug it off instantly as it kind of makes sense for the tea-addict man to have a teacup collection. The cabinet seems to be reserved for just tea, teacups, teabags, tea flavors, and even tea scents. Perhaps he was a teashop owner in another life.

He pours the pre-made fresh tea into one of the cups and places it before you, "So now that I'm here, what do you want?"

He puts his pen down and takes off his reading glasses, before interlocking his fingers and taking a more serious stance. You honestly think he's about to fire you but his glint seems a bit more personal.

"I need a plus one" he finally admits as if it was the hardest thing ever.

Your eyes widen in surprise at Levi's unexpected request for a plus one. Your lips barely touch the cup's rim and decide to taste it later for fear of choking on your tea. His usually stern demeanor seems to soften for a moment, revealing a side of him that isn't often on display.

"But for two events, one personal and the other official." He continues.

"Personal, as in you wanna ask me out?" you ask, totally confused because that makes no sense.

"Tsk, no you idiot, maybe let me finish next time" He interjected quickly hands discreetly covering his ears at the tiniest blush that formed at the tip of them.

You become flustered at the abrupt response, slightly embarrassed by your assumption. "Maybe don't take prehistoric pauses between sentences. What's the personal event?"

He takes a moment to regain his composure, the brief flicker of a curious glint in his eyes indicating that he might be enjoying the misunderstanding on your end. "The personal one is a family gathering, My mother wants me to be the host of the family gathering this month."

"And I come in where?"

"I usually stay isolated in my room because I can't stand the whole mood of the place, it's too chatty and noisy but now I have to host." He tsks shaking his head at the memory of the last family gathering.

"And you don't know how to, so you want my help?"

Levi nods, his expression serious. "In short, yes."

"Right, yeah so I still don't understand. Why don't you pick someone else, someone who you're already comfortable with" You ask, not knowing why he's asking you when he has a few friends of his own.

"Who says I'm not comfortable with you?" Levi gives you an incredulous look as if your question is absurd and the answer is obvious.

You can't help but raise an eyebrow at Levi's unexpected response. "Comfortable with me? You've been scowling at me since we met."

Levi offers a nonchalant shrug. "It's my default expression. I'm not a people person. You're the least annoying person I've met so far."

"um, thanks, I guess?"

Levi nods, his acknowledgment devoid of any neutrality. "Don't read too much into it."

You can't tell if he's being sarcastic or genuinely expressing a form of acceptance. Either way, you decide not to dwell on it too much. Levi is known for his stoic demeanor, and deciphering his feelings is like trying to read ancient hieroglyphs, so it's best not to read too much into it.

"Okay, and for the official one?"

"The official one," Levi starts, "is an award ceremony. One of my films is nominated for a few categories, and my presence is required as a formality."

"Congratulations? But then again you're not fond of award ceremonies, are you?" You nearly get up from your seat to give him a hug but refrain from doing so not wanting to cross any boundaries.

"Yeah, I couldn't care less, stupid pricks think they have the authority to judge whose art is superior. It's fucking bullshit" Levi's expression turns sour as he expresses his disdain for the award ceremony.

You sense the bitterness in his words while taking a sip of your tea and savoring the taste with a pleased hum, you realize that the world of awards and recognition might not be as glamorous and fulfilling as it seems. "I get it, awards don't define the value of your work. It's about the impact you make and the stories you tell, but you have to attend so that you gain the recognition you need and deserve, makes sense."

Levi nods in agreement, feeling warmth seeping through him as you are fond of the tea he brewed. "Exactly. Anyway, they're announcing the nominations for soundtracks too so keep an eye out for that."

"Yeah okay, that's cool, but also nerve-wracking" you admit already feeling the anxiety seeping in at the thought of the ceremony.

"Why? Because there are major actors?"

"No, the cameras, the judgments, the expectations, it all feels overwhelming," you reply, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

Levi gives you a side glance sipping on his tea and finishing what's left, his usual stern expression softening just a tad. "If you believe in your work, that's all that matters. They can go to hell with all their opinions."

You smile and nod, his words making sense as you push away any thoughts of negativity that may increase your anxiety. You think of thoughts to push back the unwanted ones and Levi seems to be the perfect solution. You can't help but stare at Levi, busy again with noting stuff down, his handwriting a mix of scribbles and cursives. How his fingers tend to be very pale and dainty, a taint of red on his knuckles from cracking them too much. How his hair falls on his face makes you want to part them away and tuck the strands behind his ears.

He looks up at you, sharp grey eyes boring into yours, eyebrows raised as a defense mechanism against the gaze you've been holding. You quickly avert your eyes and change your gaze, not wanting him to catch on.

"So which one is first and when is it?" you begin, trying to shift the focus back to the matter at hand.

"Family gathering, tomorrow at 7 pm" He answers.

"Tomorrow? You didn't think to give me a week's notice?"

Levi looks at you with a questioning gaze at your mildly surprised tone. "You and a week's notice is the same as a bouncing ball in a minefield, you'd eventually worry yourself to death with your overthinking tendencies."

"Overthinking is true but the meals need more time. so anything I need to know about the gathering, will I be the only non-family there?" you inquired, curious to know how awkward it will be.

"One, the meals are already prepared by a chef I hired. and two, no, one of my cousins, the brat, brings over all of her friends and it becomes a whole noise-fest, so you wouldn't be the only non-family," he explained, annoyance forming on his face as he recalled the headaches he's endured over the years.

You nod, mentally noting the details. "Got it. And the award ceremony?"

Levi glances at his calendar. "That's in two weeks. You'll need to clear your schedule for the whole day because it's far, the event starts in the evening."

"Alright, I'll make sure I'm available, Anything else I should be prepared for?", you reply, thinking about the preparations you'll need to make for both occasions.

Levi shrugs, "Just the usual chitter-chatter film industry shit. Red carpet, photographers, people pretending to be interested in conversations they're having when really they're full of shit."

You nod, "Got it, it's all just a show."

Levi nods as his facial features lightly soften. "More or less, It's all about appearances, which is why I rarely attend these things willingly."

"Okay, so tomorrow at 7 pm but I should come earlier, right? here at your place, no overthinking and I'm guessing the attire is casual?" You ask listing all the things you're required of.

Levi nods, "Casual is fine. Nothing too fancy and nothing too casual Just don't show up in pajamas, and we should be good."

You smirk teasing him a little, "Okay, I'll save the pajamas for the award ceremony then."

"But wait a minute, what's in this for me?" You ask slyly poking at him to see what he might offer you. You need everything he can offer to give you at this point.

Levi relaxes into his chair and crosses his arms, seemingly intrigued by your banter. "What do you mean, what's in it for you?"

You chuckle, enjoying the banter between you two. "Well, I'm doing you a favor by being your plus one. I think I deserve something in return."

Levi gives you a blank stare, the corners of his lips curling slightly. "And what would that something be?"

You pause for dramatic effect and also because you didn't think he'd play along before responding with a sly grin, "Two things, one, you'll call me by my first name, and two, you owe me dinner"

Levi deadpans at your demands, seemingly unamused. "Call you by your first name? That's negotiable. But dinner, you're practically dreaming."

"That's totally fine you can just forever be in debt."

Levi raises an eyebrow at your response, contemplating your proposal. There's a brief moment of silence, and you can almost sense the gears turning in his stoic demeanor. Finally, he lets out a 'tsk fine', a subtle way of saying 'I can't say no to you so do whatever you want'. You are too oblivious to see the stark contrast in Levi's behavior with you and with others, it's basically night and day. He treats you very differently, and though his stoicism remains, there's a peculiar comfort in the way he interacts with you. It's as if your presence manages to crack the surface of his usual 'idgaf' and 'the world bores me' attitude.

So, you like where you are right now, you like how things are going and you never want this chapter in your life to change. You've found a sense of fulfillment in your work, genuine friendships, and an interesting dynamic with Levi.

You're content.

Meanwhile on the other hand...

Eren wakes up disheveled, his hair now shorter and his moustache is long gone, shaved out of existence. He stands in the bathroom, already finished brushing his teeth and water droplets falling down his face, a product of washing his face. He looks at the mirror cabinet, deciding whether or not to take his pills. He decides not to, not being bothered to as he feels there's no point to it.

He doesn't want the stability of his moods or the functionality of his routine to actually work. It doesn't mean anything, at least not anymore.

He has two calendars, one plain white that is normal, he uses it to remember certain dates and important interviews that shape his career. The other calendar is reserved for you, your absence to be exact, he crosses out each day that passes without your captivating presence. Today it’s 4 years, 3 months, and 6 days. Every day at 7, he sits down by his desk, grabs both your calendar and his journal, and just writes how much he regrets what he did that day. He's gone through 7 journals so far and he writes for you, to you, and because of you.

He writes about how much he misses the music that used to fill his house when days were hard and he thought he couldn't get through them. How you were so patient and loving and that you didn't deserve anything that he put you through. He writes what reminds him of you, the tulips that bloom in the spring near his mom's house, the cherry blossoms he came across during his tour to Japan, or the jasmines he was gifted by an Indian fan during his trip there.

Everything comes back to you.

He feels so pathetic, so darn twisted to have said all those things to you, to have pushed you away and the worst part is, he doesn't even know why. He doesn't know whether or not to embrace the memories of your smiles, laughter, and the warmth of your presence or let it haunt him. Eren regrets the days when he let his issues take control and drive you far away from him, the days when he couldn't appreciate the simple joy of your company.

He would give everything to get you back again, but that's selfish of him, he thinks. He wants you to be happy, to live life, and never look back for him. He's torn between wanting you back in his life and acknowledging that it might be better for you to move on. The weight of his actions, the hurt he caused, and the bridge of friendship he destroyed between you and the rest of your friends are heavy burdens he carries.

Connie hates him to this day and rightfully so. So does Jean.

Eren used a recording of Connie that was taken out of context. The day of that recording was on your birthday and Connie was tired of the plain ol' happy birthday surprise because it wasn't surprising anyone. So he took it upon himself to spice things up. He decided that he'd have a fight with you the day before and the day after that he'd make a fake recording of him saying horrible things and once you got upset, he'd apologize and surprise you with your favorite flavored cake. He knew he'd get a few head smacks from you for even thinking about calling you a 'bitch' but all he really wanted was to hand-make the cake with the rest of your friend group and see you eat it half teary-eyed and laughing. But he decided against it after recording the audio, paranoid that it might actually drive you away so he resorted to just the plain non-surprising birthday party.

But no, Eren saved that recording even when Connie had deleted it from his phone. Eren drove you against everyone for mainly one reason, or rather two. Jealousy and insecurity.

Eren hated, he loathed, how you spend time with Jean, he despised how you looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, all doe-y and filled with admiration and love. You shouldn't be looking at horse-face like that, it should be him.

Eren believed he deserved your undivided attention, and the idea of you sharing those moments with Jean fuelled his jealousy. The insecurities within him festered, making him resentful of anyone who seemed to be close to you.

In an attempt to have you closer to him, Eren manipulated the situation, using Connie as a pawn in his scheme. The recording, taken out of context, became a weapon that not only hurt you but also fractured their own friendship. Connie, who was genuinely trying to create a memorable surprise, became an unknowing victim of Eren's envious tactics. This showed just how far Eren was willing to go to have you all to himself. He also had another recording of Jean also taken out of context but since he threatened Jean that he'd tell you everything, Jean thought it would be better to come out on his own terms.

But it all backfired. The fallout from his actions left a trail of broken friendships and severed ties. The fallout was severe. Connie was hurt and betrayed, harbored deep resentment towards Eren, rarely ever talking to him unless it was urgent. Connie's initial reaction was worse, first, he took it as a joke and brushed Jean off when he told him everything, and then when he entered your room to look for you, everything was wiped, your closets were empty, your gaming setup that was right next to his was completely clean, only the table remained and all Connie could see was red causing a huge fight between him and Eren.

Jean, too, felt the sting of betrayal as Eren's actions caused you to forever leave and leave them swimming in regret not only driving a wedge between friends but also leaving a lasting scar on the trust and happiness that existed between the entire friend group.

To say that they all miss you would be a heavy understatement. It's like you took away the sunshine and left them in a never-ending gloomy day. It's not the same without your crazy laughter and the way you made even the boring stuff fun. Everything's just kind of off now, and they can't shake the feeling that things got messed up for no good reason.

In the dead of night, when everything's quiet, each of them thinks about the good times and how quickly things went south. There's this heavy feeling of 'what if' hanging in the air, 'What if I never created that recording' 'What if I never told her how I truly felt about her in the past, would that have changed her decision' 'what if i didn't exist'. Eren especially can't get over the fact that he let someone as wonderful as you slip away for his own self-centered and insecure reasons.

Life moves on, yes, but it doesn't seem so in this context. Everything feels so dull, they don't have fun anymore, no one laughs genuinely, it's very awkward. Everyone wonders where you went, where you've been, how you are, if you're happy at least, and that if you are then they're happy too but they're still figuring out how to fix the mess. Your absence is this big, annoying elephant in the room. If your absence has taught them something it's that they should try to appreciate the people around them. Your absence is like a neon sign saying, "Don't fuck up."

Back to the present day time, Eren gets a text from Mikasa and he doesn't want to open it but does so that he doesn't get manhandled and thrown across the backyard.

Mikasa: get ready and be there me and auntie are already in the car driving

Mikasa: the address for the gathering is [Street Address/PO BOX], dress well pls

He groans into his pillow. Another stupid gathering, he thought he could get away from this year's gathering by traveling to America, a country where Mikasa's relatives aren't scattered around but no, the host of this year's gathering is Levi and he lives in America and specifically in the same state he traveled to. Eren can't even begin to express his annoyance. It's almost like the entire universe is against him not attending and he's not even related to anyone there. Why does he have to go, he thinks? Social events are the bane of his existence, ironic considering his whole career relies on interacting with people (fans).

Eren contemplates ignoring the text and pretending he never saw it. Maybe he can come up with a convincing excuse, like a sudden illness or something lame like 'I accidentally leaked the address, fans everywhere'. But he knows Mikasa too well – her persistence is unmatched. Ignoring her texts would only escalate the situation and so he responds with a 'fine, got it'.

He tosses his phone aside and stares at the ceiling. The prospect of facing another family gathering fills him with dread. It's not the family part that bothers him; it's the forced interactions, the fake smiles, and the constant questioning about his personal life. Resigned, he starts thinking about what to wear, already dreading the inevitable awkwardness that awaits him.

Eren makes sure to dress casually, opting for a comfortable yet presentable look. He styles his hair with a bit more care than usual, not wanting to appear too disheveled. As a final touch, he puts on his best cologne, he doesn't know why, but he feels compelled to dress properly, look proper, and act proper.

Almost as if there's something, or rather someone that's going to present tonight, that's worth impressing...

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You woke up at 10 am and left for Levi's house at 1 pm, giving yourself a few good 6 hours to prepare everything. Levi insisted that you didn't need to come so early and that he's already setting up everything but you like these kinds of things so you tell him it's fine. He tells you to utilize the catering staff he hired and leave their job to them but you refuse. It's a 'family' gathering, it should have bits and pieces of his personality embedded into his effort as well.

You couldn't find some grey cutlery so you bought what you could find which happened to be some colorful plates to Levi's dismay but you promised him that you'd keep them and it wouldn't stay in his house for more than a few days. He sighs a 'tch' at you that you don't think much of. You waste no time and get to work immediately, unpacking the bags and organizing the items you bought. The colorful plates you've chosen might not match Levi's monochromatic taste, but you believe they add a lively touch to the gathering.

You proceed with setting up the dining area and arranging the colorful plates alongside the other tableware. The clash of colors against the neutral backdrop creates a unique aesthetic, one that you find oddly satisfying. Levi also starts his part in cleaning, which doesn't take long as he cleans his house on a regular basis.

The catering staff, initially unsure about your decisions, follows your lead. As you continue to work, Levi observes silently, occasionally offering input or preferences. Despite the clash of styles, a subtle understanding begins to fold and everyone likes the outcome of the collaboration between the expertise of the staff and your knowledge of Levi's tastes.

After a few good hours, everything is set and you go change from your 'helping out' clothes to your casual clothes for the event. The catering staff bid their goodbye and Levi takes a seat in the living room.

It is now 6:00 and Levi's mom and uncle arrive, you can hear their chatter from upstairs, a booming laugh can be heard and you assume it's his uncle. You've never been more nervous in your life. 'How should you greet them?' 'What if you look too casual' 'What if you say something wrong' are all the negative thoughts flowing through your mind right now. You take a deep breath, brush them aside, and head downstairs and you immediately happen to lock eyes with his mom, she sits on the couch with an amazing posture while Levi and his uncle bicker at the door. You wonder how Levi greeted his mom, too bad you missed it.

She looks so ethereal, with long healthy black hair flowing nicely with the white dress she's wearing, and her facial features are soft and delicate, she looks like the kindest person ever, she radiates this sort of 'welcome' feeling. As if she'll accept you in your arms, sinner or priest.

You snap out of it, stopping the gawking, and continue to walk up to her. She instantly smiles and gets up from the couch.

"Who is this young pretty lady?" Levi's mom exclaims with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. You feel a mix of relief and nervousness as you extend a hand towards her.

"Hello Ma'am, I'm [Name]," you say, trying to match her warmth. "I'm a friend and co-worker of Levi's. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Ma'am?" She laughs a hearty laugh and pats you gently on the shoulders "Sweetie, there's no need to be so formal, You can just call me Kuchel"

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Kuchel" you reply, not bringing yourself to call someone much older than you by just their first name.

"You're a cheeky lady, aren't you?" Kuchel jokes with you, giving you an affectionate smile and you finally understand what the term 'girl crush' means because you've never been so positively intimidated by someone's elegance and stance. She urges you to sit down when in reality you should be the one urging her to sit down and making her feel comfortable.

Levi and his uncle also come by to sit down before he introduces himself to you.

"How's it going, little lady? I'm Kenny. I'm this kid's uncle, regrettably" he says with a smirk, causing Levi to roll his eyes and Kuchel to slap his arm playfully.

"Hello, I'm [Name], I work alongside Levi and we're also friends." Levi glances at you to see if you're uncomfortable in any way, he's good at reading people and you seem, relaxed and not tense as he predicted you'd be. He mentally nods at that and reminds himself to glance at you every now and then.

Kuchel smiles warmly at you. "It's wonderful to have you here, [Name]. I'm glad he's becoming friends with coworkers, he usually never does that"

"Mom, I'm 28, stop talking about me like I'm 15" Levi groans at the embarrassment, hands digging into his face.

"You're still my baby boy, no matter how old you get." She retorts, moving closer to him to pinch his cheeks and coddle him.

You coo at the rare sight, of Levi crossing his arms while his mother hugs him and strokes his hair, it's obvious Levi loves the affection his mother gives him, his fond smile gives it away no matter how grey his eyes look.

His uncle also seems to enjoy the sight, smiling a faint one as he catches you observing him. He flashes you a wink before looking back at the scene. You feel less tense now, feeling more welcome with the whole atmosphere.

It's now 7:15 and the first batch of relatives come out of a minivan, you smile and they somehow hug you as if you're a part of the family, one elderly woman asks if you're Levi's other half and you can't help but stutter on your words as you form incoherent sentences you later resort to shaking your head as a form of no.

It's now 8:15, an hour has passed and everyone is eating their starters, you look at the lively atmosphere and you feel so warm inside, everyone knows one another and everyone treats you like a relative, you feel like you belong before the doorbell rings again and you tell them that you'll go get it.

Nothing could've prepared you for who was behind that door.

You quickly open the door and get your clothing stuck on the handle of the door by opening it too quickly. You manage to say your hellos but your focus is on the door, trying to get out of this embarrassing situation.

"[Name], What’re you doing here?" a voice asks and you think it's Kuchel but once you finally get your clothing unstuck from the door and look up at the new batch of guests, you're astronomically wrong.

It's Carla, It's Carla Jaeger.

You've never thought you'd see Carla of all people here, you think you're hallucinating and that the presence of Kuchel may have triggered your longing for the mother figure who treated you like you were her daughter.

But no, it's actually Carla. How could this be and why? She's standing in front of the door with a fluffy scarf and a huge coat that hides her actual outfit. She stares at you with sadness in her eyes, but then Kuchel shouts 'Carla come in' which makes you snap out of it and open the door so that she may enter. She does so and as you try to close the door she tells you that..

"There's one more person"

And cue the anxiety, panic, and dread. You look at her, confused and worried. Carla immediately embraces you with a tight hug, as if seeking comfort or offering it, you're not sure. She cups your face gently, looking into your eyes with a mixture of affection and sorrow.

"[Name], You've grown up."

Carla whispers, her voice a mixture of sorrow and longing. The memories flood back – the warmth of her hugs, the wisdom in her advice, and the unconditional love she showered upon you. The times she'd teach you how to bake and you'd end up messing the whole thing up and she'd laugh at you while teasing.

"You look more refined" she continues, her gaze filled with a motherly pride. Carla steps back, holding your shoulders as she examines you. "But the same twinkle in your eyes remains."

"Thank you, Auntie" you reply not knowing what else, a pang of guilt heaving in your heart as you mentally embrace yourself for the person who accompanied her as the doorbell rings again.

please don't be eren, please don't be eren, please don't be eren

This is what you keep chanting in your mind as Carla gestures towards the door, indicating that you should answer it. As you open the door, you're met with the face of the person who accompanied her.

It's not Eren. Thank God

It's Mikasa.

You mentally smack yourself on the head, how could you have not known? Mikasa Ackerman, Levi Ackerman. What more clues did you need? A big red billboard?

Mikasa carries two baskets of what seems to be treats for everyone at the family gathering. She doesn’t seem to notice you since you're practically hiding behind the door as she goes forward to set the gifts down at the kitchen island and give greetings to her relatives.

Taking your invisibility to her as an advantage, you close the door not wanting the cold to get into the warmed house, and wonder where you should go and you decide you’ll go upstairs to get some fresh air, calm your nerves, and focus on the priority here.

You run up the stairs and go to the nearest bathroom, you’re pacing around not knowing what to do. You think let’s rewind a bit.

Now we know that Mikasa is related to Levi, check. Does that guarantee that anyone else who you’ve left behind could also be here, no. But why is Carla here then?

And that’s where you’re stumped. You have no clue. And you don’t want this to ruin your image with the people you just met, for you to just run off out of nowhere because someone you know is in the same room as you. You’re not like this, this is the anxiety talking. So what know them? Say your hellos and look the other way, it’s very simple.

You slap your face gently as if to beat the words into your face, that’s until you hear a booming noise from downstairs, it sounds like someone is cheering. Anyways, you think, let’s get back to this gathering. Whoever comes, came and whoever is not present well then that’s a win for us.

And with that you head downstairs, slowly observing the table where everyone is seated at, Levi with his armed crosses, Kuchel with her hand on his head, Kenny bored out of his mind and Carla exchanging smiles with Kuchel. The other relatives seem to chatter among themselves.

You quickly head down the stairs and grab a plate to get yourself some food. Carla comes along behind you, she follows what you do, also grabbing a plate and putting food on her plate.

“So how has life been treating you, [Name]?”

She asks, genuine curiosity flowing through her voice, you look at her and put your plate down to show some respect and talk to her.

“It’s going great, I’m graduating in a few weeks.” You reply, observing her features, she hasn’t changed a bit, she looks just as comforting as before. She smiles at that and pats your back.

“I’m proud of you sweetie. You deserve everything good in this life and the next”

You smile and hug her abruptly, the connection you had with Carla was unmatched, nothing could top that and you just feel so guilty for not telling her anything beforehand.

“Listen, [Name], As a mother, I need to apologize.” You look at her confused and she continues with heavy words. “I never got the chance to apologize to you for Eren’s behavior that day, if I double-checked whether or not he took his medication, perhaps this wouldn’t have become the outcome.”

“Auntie, this is in no way your fault. This was my decision, I’d like to think that either way, I would’ve left. It’s just the terms I left on could’ve been improved, but that’s also my fault. I just combined everyone in the same category as Eren and left without further notice. That’s a fault on my part.”

"Nonsense, none of this could ever be your fault." She smiles and pats your cheek,“The ever so kind [Name], you have a heart pure as the driven snow.”

You appreciate her words but can't shake the feeling that you could have handled things differently. All the guilt and regret start pouring in, you've left so many people under the assumption that they hated you, Carla was one of them, you thought that if her son despised you enough to hurt you, then what would be stopping her?

Carla seems to sense your troubled self so she takes it upon herself to make the mood more friendly and less soggy with regret. She's seen how regretful both you and Eren look and it's so dreadful as his mother and as someone who cares about you. She tries to lighten his mood up, take him to places where serotonin may be boosted, and engage with him in activities that liven things up, but to no avail. Eren was stuck in a trance of regret.

Carla wishes she could ask you to at least talk with Eren or sort things out with him. Her motherly side worried about the wellbeing of her son but she can't bring herself to do so, it's too much on you and selfish of her.

"My kitchen is in good shape, I know for a fact that it has missed your mishaps," Carla says with a playful glint in her eyes, attempting to bring a smile to your face.

"Mishaps? More like nuclear testings" you respond with a chuckle, appreciating Carla's effort to lighten the mood. Her warm demeanor and easygoing nature make you feel more at ease, at least for the moment.

Kuchel calls Carla over once more, she has a glass of red wine and she seems like she has lots of things to catch up with her. Carla gives you a nod before heading over to her and taking her plate of food on the way.

You take a moment to collect yourself, glancing around the room. Levi is engaged in a conversation with his uncle Kenny and Mikasa is on her phone. You take this as an opportunity to clean the dishes, left by the guests as they head to the living room to watch a sitcom together.

It's now 8:50. it's almost two hours past the intended time, you can let out a deep sigh of relief. No one else is coming and everyone here is sleeping here for the night. Washing the dishes calms your nerves and you feel more relaxed, you hope that Mikasa stays on her phone and does not notice you. That'd be great, but the chances of someone not noticing another in a 'family gathering' are very low. She'll probably notice one way or another.

You finish the dishes, dry your hands, and allow the families to enjoy their own company. You, however, make your way to the small seating area, opposite to the door. You grab a book from the shelf and start reading, taking your mind off all this.

In the process, 20 minutes have passed and it's now 9:30, you giggle at the book, you never knew Levi was into comedy like this, half the books on the shelf are comedy and satire books. You put a hand over your mouth to conceal your chuckles as you continue reading. The sound of laughter and conversations from the living room serves as a comforting backdrop. Despite the initial nervousness, being immersed in Levi's world, even if just through his book collection, brings a sense of belonging.

Until the doorbell rings once more.

You're on the other side of the room so it'll take a bit longer for you to open it but as soon as you get up, Mikasa is running to the door to open it. Why would she be running when she was on her phone the entire time? You're just standing there a bit confused at who it is and why 2 hours after the initial time.

Mikasa opens the door and the room suddenly turns into an incoherent noise factory. You can't see who it is because they immediately hug Mikasa but you'd recognize that grey hair anywhere.

It's Connie and behind him are Jean, Sasha, Historia, Ymir, and Reiner.

Mikasa steps back, breaking the hug, and the noise reaches a peak as everyone starts talking at once. Connie, always the ball of energy, is the first to greet everyone, Levi leaves him hanging on his fist bump and he doesn't mind as he goes on to greet everybody else.

You don't dare move from your spot continuing reading your book hoping to stay unnoticed in your little corner of the room. As everyone continues their greetings and catching up, you bury yourself in the book, pretending to be engrossed in the words on the pages. You hear Historia apologizing for being late as the roads were blocked due to snow.

The minutes pass, and you start to believe that your plan to remain inconspicuous is working. That is until you hear a familiar voice entering the room, and a chill runs down your spine. The voice is unmistakable, and dread creeps in as you hope it's just a figment of your imagination.

Eren stands there awkwardly, pathetically fidgeting with his hands as he mumbles 'Sorry I'm late'. Kuchel hugs him and playfully pinches his cheeks and he shyly averts his gaze down. You take this as a small chance to observe him from the peek of your book.

He grew a bit taller, his hair was styled to a fashionable degree, and his face was glowing although his eyes seemed dark from his eyebags as if he hadn't been getting much sleep. His azure eyes aren't as dull as you last saw them, they're still a bit dull but the color stands out more. He looks disconnected from the rest of his friends and Mikasa pulls his arm to bring him closer.

You should've picked a more discreet place but then again why should you be hiding, it's just a coincidence that all of you happen to be reunited here. However you don't want any drama, you contemplate leaving through the back door and telling Levi something urgent came up but you don't want to let him down and there's no point in doing so if you so claim to have forgotten about them, meeting them, saying hello and disappearing again shouldn't be so hard. Maybe, just maybe, you can enjoy the evening without the complication of facing them. The minutes tick by, and your hope grows. Perhaps, for once, fate is on your side.

It's as if everything is happening in slow motion, the laughter of Carla and Kuchel, Connie play fighting with Levi's uncle and Historia chatting to the elderly family members. You glance once more from between the book and you see that their attention is elsewhere. You get a text from your roommate who happens to tell you that all the roads are blocked due to a snowstorm in the area and wondering if you're safe.

you: yes i'm fine, are you at home?

claudia: yeah, it seems like you have to stay where you are until the snow dies down, don't try to go anywhere, kay?

You seem worried a bit, wondering if your friends are also at home and not outside, you check the news and it calmly urges anyone and everyone who is outside to get inside and people who are inside to stay inside.

you: damn, it looks bad out there, how's everyone, are they all inside?? i can't get through to them.

claudia: [one attachment], we're fine, see u at home tmrw. stay safe!!

You open the attachment to see all of your friends huddling in the room, windows closed and all in oodies giving the camera a big thumbs up and smiling.

You smile at that, responding with an 'okay' and sighing a deep breath as all of your friends are safe. You're convinced the universe is against you, making you trapped in a house with people you want to run away from. You can't stand the anxiety that comes with it, you put the book down and hear the distant chatters of Levi's family members telling each other about the news as they put on the news channel.

You need a drink, you think to yourself. You quietly slip away from your corner, avoiding making any noise as you make your way to the kitchen. The distant chatter and laughter follow you, but you try to drown it out. You open the fridge, and fortunately, there's an array of beverages. You grab a bottle of water, thinking that's probably a safer choice but then you put it back as wine seems like a better option in this situation.

While you're being indecisive, it seems that someone else has entered the kitchen, they have their back to you, and you see the mini man bun and immediately know it's Eren. He hasn't noticed you yet, he thinks you're just a random family member also in the kitchen, choosing some snacks, but he has trouble finding the cork opener for the wine bottle he's about to open. He can't go back and ask Levi in front of everyone because he knows his mom. will scold him for trying to drink. So he resorts to asking a stranger, you, instead to save him that trouble.

"um, excuse me?" He starts looking at your back as you attempt to leave the kitchen stealthily, sneaking quietly past the cabinets and stuffing your face in one of them. You freeze at the sound of Eren's voice. The last thing you wanted was to become involved in his search for a corkscrew. In an attempt to avoid the impending interaction, you continue pretending to browse the snacks.

"Excuse me," he repeats, a touch of frustration in his voice.

You debate whether to respond or slip away unnoticed. The room suddenly feels smaller, you feel claustrophobic and you wish you had chosen a different place to hide from the social storm. I mean, why would you go to the kitchen when they just arrived on an empty stomach?

Eren decides to approach you, still unaware of your identity, he lightly taps you on your shoulder. "Do you know where the corkscrew is?" he asks, coming up beside you and you swear this feels like a scene straight out of a Kdrama, one of those awkward side-character interactions that you'd rather avoid. Panic sets in, and you need to think and act quickly. Holding your breath, you contemplate the best course of action.

Escape seems like a tempting option. You scold yourself for feeling afraid and decide that avoiding unnecessary drama is your priority. Without turning around to face him, you respond vaguely, slightly changing your voice.

"I think I saw it near the sink," gesturing vaguely in that direction.

You sigh a loud deep breath as he heads in that direction but immediately suck it back in. As you are walking backward, you bump into someone, you pray it's someone you don't know but by reflex, you turn around to see who you bumped into and come face to face with a groaning Connie. He has his hand on his arm after he hits it on the corner of the wall and looks up at you only to have the annoyance etched on his face disappear within a millisecond.

He stands there speechless, unable to say your name, unable to even understand the whole situation, is it real? or did he play fight with Kenny a bit too hard? He can't do anything but stand there. He takes you in, every part of you and it finally hits him like a wave of strong tides. He missed you so badly, all this time, he never truly understood how much your absence affected him. The sight of you, the sound of your voice as you mutter a small 'oh', the simple act of bumping into you – it's a flood of emotions he tried to suppress.

"Hello and sorry."

Is all you say, in a monotone voice, a stark contrast to the emotional whirlwind that's taking place within you. You grab a packet of chips and purposefully move away, creating a physical distance between the two of you. You move behind him because behind you is Eren opening a bottle of wine and glancing at the whole accident, still oblivious.

Connie scoffs at your attitude, he's immediately snapped out of his trance and feels the need to confront you. You haven't even bothered to hear his side of the story, or given him a chance to explain and it's so fucking annoying.

"Sorry for bumping into me or sorry for going no contact for like half a decade, hm?" he questions, his tone carrying a mix of sarcasm and genuine hurt. The confrontation hangs in the air, and you can feel the weight of his unspoken emotions.

You want to retort back but you know that this will just lead to confrontation on a wide scale and you don't want to ruin Levi's hard work. So you ignore him and go back to sitting down on your small chair in the corner and Connie can't believe you're actually acting like this. He watches you leave to sit down on a small chair and he's so pissed. He glances at Eren who seems to be in his own world, scrolling on his phone and drinking his wine and suddenly Connie feels like starting a fight because Eren's nonchalant attitude irks him. But he refrains, he has something else to do, something better. Connie takes the opportunity to shift the attention to the living room. He interrupts Sasha's karaoke performance in front of the TV, grabbing the microphone with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Guys, I know someone with a much better voice in this house, so who wants to listen to some real music?" He declares and Sasha pouts but lets go of the microphone. This causes Jean to tell him to stop being so rowdy and sit down. He shakes his head telling them 'You guys don't want to miss out, I promise' and they seem a bit curious at his offer, wanting to know who it is.

You think he's already gone, ignoring you as well since he never liked you in your memory so you take a breath of fresh air and continue reading while glancing at Eren who drinks the wine slowly while scrolling on his phone, replying to texts from his manager asking him on his opinion of certain costumes. He looks dreadful you almost pity him.

"It's [Name]" Connie announces, and there's a mix of surprise and curiosity that spreads among the family members. One, because half of them didn't know you could sing and the other half is reactions from Carla who knows where this is going and connected the dots, and Jean and the rest because they had no idea that you're here, so they scoff at him and tell him to stop playing.

"Come see for yourself, then" He taunts and now everyone is really confused.

Eren hears your name being said and his head immediately perks up from his distracted state. He sets down the wine glass, his eyes narrowing as he searches the room for confirmation. He goes to the living room to see a glimpse of your face but you're not there. He then proceeds to return back to his spot disappointed but stops in his tracks as he sees you, sitting down on a small chair right behind the table he was drinking wine at. He's not like Connie, he stares at you with guilt in his eyes, you know you can't hide behind your book for so long so you set it down and look at him with an annoyed gaze as Connie and the others also turn around the corner of the kitchen, surprised to see you there.

Eren feels.. weird, he feels so pathetic, he feels like he’s gonna cry any minute now, going to full-on sob in front of everyone. Your annoyed gaze tells him everything he needs to know, he wants to fall on his knees and grovel, wants to tell you he'd do everything and anything to make it up to you, he places a hand on his mouth, almost to stop himself from revealing the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill out.

Everyone else seems to look at you with the same gaze, regret, confusion, guilt, surprise. Connie, crosses his arms, half pissed at you for what happened but also happy now that he knows you've been okay, Eren looks troubled like he doesn't know where to start, Mikasa has this face on that you can't read, Historia is in a state of surprise, Jean doesn't believe his eyes and Sasha and Ymir are so confused.

You don't know how to feel, you hate how everyone just put you on the spot, how you are indirectly ruining Levi's first time hosting this gathering, but most of all, you hate how much their presence affects you.

You don't do much but look outside at the snowstorm, and then tension grows higher and tighter with each second, you hate how they look at you like you are some animal in an enclosure, like a performer and people are patiently waiting for your next trick, it feels too awkward and makes it hard to breathe, you can't help but wonder if somehow standing in the snowstorm seems like a better option than standing in the storm brewing inside this house.

notes: first things first, thank you all for reading the part 1, I really appreciate it and to those who interacted, hope that nothing inconveniences you ever again in your life!! emphasis on ever. so here's to part two, crazy how it's 9K because I remember my milestone being 5K so how I got here is honestly mindblowing. I'm glad you liked my plot, I thought it might've been weirdly put but it seems not. so I hope you enjoy this one as well and let me know if you also want a part 3, I kind of left it on a cliffhanger...

divider credit: @hitobaby

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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 months

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Three Peas in a Pod

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader x Jared Padalecki (no J2 action)

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff, poly relationship, brief smut (not explicit or detailed but it's there)

Request by anon: Hi so can i request a J2 x reader one shot where the reader is a normal girl who is dating Jensen and Jared but the fan never seeing her face only hear her voice like twice because she is super shy and introverted person but Jensen and Jared convince her to go to a comic con and the fan meet her for the first time and instantaneous like her? Something fluff and romantic between J2 and reader

Summary: It's crazy to think a celebrity wants you but two of them? Being in a relationship with them is the best thing to happen to you, and all they want to do is tell the world about it.

Square Filled: poly fic (2022) for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

Never in a million years did you think you’d end up in the situation you’re in. It all started when you were out grocery shopping when you ran into Jared Padalecki. He had just given his kids back to his ex-wife when he decided to do some shopping for the week. You had the last of an item in your hand when you barrelled into him, dropping and shattering the item. He felt so bad that he offered to give you his that he grabbed.

It was like something clicked in the air because you two couldn’t get your eyes off each other. You were a stuttering mess but he was so confident in both of you that he asked you out right there and then. It all happened so quickly but when were you going to get another chance like this? You were a small-town girl who was noticed by a huge celebrity.

Of course, you said yes.

He took you on a romantic dinner date overlooking the bustling city. You’re not a talker since you like to keep to yourself, but he kept you talking all night. It’s as if you two were best friends rekindling a friendship. He made you laugh, made you feel beautiful, and was super charming. Supernatural happened to be on your “watch later” list but you’ve seen many spoilers and videos of him and Jensen.

What they said about him is true. He’s super lovable, loves hugs, can make you laugh, is dorky, and loves eating. Being with him makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. How can things get better than this?

He took you back to his place for some intimate drinks where his roommate and best friend, Jensen, lives. Jensen is also newly divorced but is open to looking for another relationship if not something temporary. Being in the same room as Sam and Dean Winchester was a little overwhelming but the alcohol dulled those senses so you could enjoy the evening.

Meeting Jared was like love at first sight if you’re into that sort of thing, but meeting Jensen was something completely different… something raw and vulnerable. He tugged you to him subconsciously because he made you feel alive like you could jump off a cliff and be completely fine. You’re not sure if either man felt the same as you were feeling but you weren't going to say anything to them to scare them off.

They set out some games to play while playing an irrelevant TV show in the background. It was friendly at first until the alcohol promoted Jensen to suggest a stripping game. One thing led to another, and the game was long forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the three of you at that moment.

All you could think about was Jared’s lips on your neck, his hand massaging your breast and tugging at your nipples until they were pebbled and ready, Jensen’s tongue on your pussy, and his fingers digging into your thighs. They used you like a cock slut that night but you were more than okay with it. One thing led to another and you’re now dating both of them.

It’s your first polyamorous relationship but you three make it work.

With you having a job that you can work remotely for, they’d take you whenever they had to do interviews, press junkets, and conventions. You’re not one for the spotlight so you’re content with being backstage while they take all the glory. They have yet another convention that they brought you along with, so you’re in the back room watching a video they made recently.

Jensen and Jared talked about serious issues going on in the world currently and how they would take small steps to try and eradicate some of those issues. They are part of a group that works on removing plastic from the ocean, they donate some of their time at food banks and local shelters, and they donate money to groups looking for resources to make the world a better place.

“Listen, these are real-world issues that we need to start taking seriously today. These kinds of events can affect our children and our children’s children,” Jensen says.

“Jar, Jen, dinner is ready,” your voice comes from off-camera.

Jared and Jensen look at each other and just laugh. They’ve been really careful not to give an inkling of their relationship but then things like this happen and it can’t be helped.

“We’ll be right there,” Jared clears his throat.

“We gotta go. That's our girl.”

They leave it at that, and the comment section is raving about them being in a relationship. There are a few other videos where your voice can be heard but you’re never seen. Most of the fans are happy that the boys are happy, and since it’s 2023, being in a poly relationship isn’t that unusual. All of the fans are wondering what you look like but you’re not ready to give that out just yet.

“Hey, we have to go on now,” Jensen says from the door.

You put your phone away and approach Jared with a smile. He pulls you into him and kisses you. He keeps it short and sweet but Jensen is the completely opposite. He kisses you for much longer and in a more intimate way. Jensen is a good kisser with all the practice he’s gotten on you.

“Okay, don’t suffocate her,” Jared playfully says.

“Break a leg, you two,” you grin and watch them leave.

There is a big TV in the back where you can watch what’s going on stage, and you clap when everyone else in the audience does when they walk on. This convention is going like all the others with them telling stories from set, from their lives, and fans asking all kinds of questions. There comes a time when a fan stands up and asks a question regarding you. You knew it was coming sooner or later, and you’re curious how the boys will answer it.

“When are we going to see Y/N? No pressure on you two or her, but just curious.”

“She’s a little camera shy,” Jensen chuckles. “She’s here. She’s backstage but she doesn't really like cameras.”

It’s true, you hate them. Maybe you can give them a little something instead of a full-face reveal. You walk out of the backstage room and over to the edge of the curtains so you’re still hidden from the audience. Jensen and Jared see you creeping up on the curtain, and you stick your hand out to wave at them.

“There she is,” Jared laughs.

Everyone cheers for you which brings a smile to your face. After two seconds, you run back to the room you were in, and Jensen watches you go with a smile on his face.

“We’re working on that part of her,” Jensen jokes.

Maybe one day you’ll be more open to meeting fans and taking pictures because they seem to genuinely love you already, and it’s all thanks to your boys.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #jared padalecki x reader #j2 x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fluff #jared padalecki fanfiction #jared padalecki fanfic #jared padalecki fluff #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spn #supernatural fic

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redclercs · 11 months

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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

viii. 'cause I know that it's delicate

— the one where he is rooting for the anti-hero.

❝𝘉𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳. 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘴.❞ —𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴

warnings: did somebody say charles-centered chapter? third person pov, hate, mention of last chapter's panic attack, misogyny (i'm sorry!!! i'm going to let y/n have peace eventually i swear!!!) foul language, cheesy taylor swift references, 2.4k words (+articles as always!).

masterlist ✢ next

Can we stop proving Taylor Swift right for once? When she wrote 'My reputation's never been worse' back in 2017 we thought that would be the end of it. But in more recent times (2017 was AGES ago, guys, come on) the lyrics are still relevant and being applied to actress y/n y/ln's life. Her reputation truly has never been worse.

One thing is being called bad at your job. Which, okay, she is not (I am not biased, I'm just not stupid). y/n is great at being a RomCom actress, she has a stylist that sells her well and has good social media presence. Or had, since that's all gone now.

Even if she was lucky enough to really start making it in Hollywood, we can't ignore the fact that for the past two months y/n has been exposed as a really bad person. AND SHE'S LETTING IT HAPPEN!

While a lot of people in social media have come to her defense in the rejected marriage proposal topic, saying she doesn't have to say yes if she doesn't feel like it, others say it's what she 'owed' to Aidan Kim.

Sources, who are still yet to be revealed, have talked to magazines and celebrity sites about her romance with the guy she only sees as a toy. Does y/n have feelings at all? I guess Charles Leclerc didn't like what she said about him, since there were no pictures of them together at the Spanish Grand Prix. Losing your boyfriend and your reputation in the same week must hurt.

But that's not even the main issue here, why is y/n letting all of this happen right in front of her eyes? Hello, girl, speak up! Does she really have nothing to say in her defense?

People are eating her alive and what she does is post her luxurious breakfast in Monaco, Elix cans and Ferrari Special Edition merch. y/n doesn't care what is being said as long as people keep talking about her. You're going to regret this, girl. That's all I'm saying.

For now, let's say goodbye to the 'Queen of RomComs' reputation (2019-2023).

By Bridget Garcia

Matilde Bassi comes in the defense of y/n y/ln after last week's new discoveries on her breakup, a turmoil that has followed y/n for months now.

"She owes nothing to Aidan Kim. She's a self-made woman, and it's frankly disgusting how people want to give her achievements to some man." The former Broadway star said in an Instagram Live on Sunday June 4th.

After comments asked for her thoughts on the rejected engagement, Bassi didn't hold back: "y/n, just like every woman, has the right to say no. It's a proposal, not a sentence. Good for everyone who is brave enough to know what they don't want in their lives anymore."

Matilde hasn't walked away unscathed after such brave statements, people have started to crucify her on social media. Comments go from how she doesn't deserve to keep playing Juliet to how they're glad she lives in Italy now so they can't come across her on the street, Bassi is suffering similar repercussions to that of her beloved friend.

Let's remember Matilde and y/n were seen together in Europe in May, enjoying a short break in Rome before attenting the Monaco Grand Prix, where y/n went to see alleged boyfriend Charles Leclerc.

What do you think? Is Matilde Bassi right, or should she have kept her comments to herself and held on to whatever amount of love the public still had for her?

FROM CHISMETIFOSO ON TIKTOK: "THE FERRARI BOYS TALK ABOUT Y/N Y/LN" PT.1 & 2

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝Charles went back to Monaco for the week off before Canada, and stopped to take pictures with fans like he usually does. Someone was brave enough to ask him what was up with y/n, besties, you won't expect what he said.❞

[Charles Leclerc, in english]:❝I am lucky to have a woman like y/n in my life, she's an amazing person and a great friend—[cut off]❞

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝The Carlos video was sent by a fan that met Carlos in Spain, she also asked about y/n and Charles and Carlos assured she's loved by everyone.❞

[Carlos Sainz, in spanish]: ❝y/n is friends with everyone at Ferrari because we spent a lot of time together, I like her a lot she's fun to be around.❞

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝Well, what do you think besties? Are our Ferrari boys on a PR stunt or do they really like certain actress that has brought nothing but drama to the table since they met her?❞

June 7th, Maranello, Italy.

Charles was already having a bad day before they told him about the PR meeting. Although it seemed impossible, this season's car got shittier every time and it made his confidence drop a little more every time he got on it and failed to drive properly. Was winning Monaco really just a lucky strike like everyone kept saying?

Spain was definitely a whole weekend to forget, not only for the shitshow that the Grand Prix had been. He couldn't stop thinking about y/n's panic attack and the way she had cried in his arms that same night.

Charles is not oblivious to everything that is happening around her, and how it did seem to get worse every time. When he first met her, he didn't think it would get to this point where people who didn't even know her would inflict torture and mental abuse on her all day every single day. And although Charles has been through a fair amount of online bullying as a professional athlete and public figure, it's not in the same way that what y/n is being subjected to right now.

"Are you listening, Charles?" the Ferrari PR manager asks, tapping her fingers in front of him, a few drops of coffee jump from his red styrofoam cup and into the white surface.

He nods, uninterested. Charles couldn't care less about whatever the Elix guys have to say. He sees the way the worst of them, Stuart Schaffer, looks at y/n. Lascivious, filthy. Charles has thought about punching him more times than he would like to admit.

There was a whole presentation on how Ferrari is being perceived by fans all over the world right now, touching on several points starting with Carlos and him, the last three races and finally, the people that surround Ferrari.

"Elix is experiencing a drop in sales, and we believe this to be due to a certain public figure that has been seen around the Paddock..." the Elix representative is saying, pointing at a graph that ends at the bottom of the page.

"Maybe it's just that your drink is shit," Charles' mouth is quicker than his brain, and he knows he's completely fucked himself over by the gasps that run through the table. Except for Carlos, Carlos has to hide his laugh with a cough. "I don't know."

The only reason he drank it so often, even when cameras were off, was because he didn't know what to do with his hands when talking to y/n.

"Charles!" the PR manager hisses. There have been several times in which he has earned that hawk-like look from her, but it still fazes him.

Yet, he doesn't back down.

"If you were going to talk about y/n and blame her for whatever disaster is happening with your company, you should have at least asked her to come. Talking behind her back is low."

y/n's absence didn't surprise him, she was back in L.A. first thing Monday. And although he's glad she's not here to listen to these bunch of assholes blaming her for their mistakes, he wishes she was just to see her, to make sure she'll be okay.

His name is passed through the table again in hisses and warnings, and finally he lets go.

"This is your fault too, kid," Stuart Schaffer has his hand in a fist on top of the table, red blotches coloring his face and neck.

Charles loathes the word kid coming out of his mouth. Him and y/n are of similar age, and she's not a 'kid' in his eyes.

"If you weren't fucking that bitch while she had a boyfriend, this wouldn't be happening."

His ears are ringing and he knows it's his face now that's tinted red.

"Get out, please Charles," the manager intervenes before another word can come out of his mouth, or worse, before he reaches Stuart Schaffer with his hands. "Now."

Charles' veins feel on fire as he gets up from his seat and walks out of the conference room. Biting the tip of his tongue so as not to curse Stuart in every single language he knows.

Carlos makes eye contact with him as Charles closes the see-through door and shakes his head. 'They're going to give you so much shit,' his eyes say. And he's right.

The meeting takes an hour more and he's in one of the offices, buzzed with caffeine and bored out of his mind. He has, regretfully, scrolled down the hell that is Twitter. He's even more pissed off than before, and the caffeine is making him desperate to get out of his seat.

“How bad is it?” Charles asks when Carlos crosses the door.

“A little bad,” Carlos isn’t stressed, he even smiles. “For you mostly. But looking at the bright side, no more Elix.”

No more Elix also means no more money from them. Which won’t make a difference, he thinks.

“Thank God,” Charles lets his head fall down the back of the couch. His nape hurts.

“It also means no more y/n,” Carlos’ tone has changed and he’s looking at Charles with that puzzled look that means he wants Charles to expand on his thoughts.

“She can still come if she wants to,” Charles replies, still feigning tranquility. “I’ll give her a pass.”

And he really hopes y/n wants to. Because all he's done lately every time he goes back to the Ferrari Suite during race weekends is look for her around the room, hoping that she'll be looking at him already. It’s like pieces fall into place when it does. He knows he'll miss her if she's not there anymore.

"Yeah, me too," Carlos plops down on the couch next to him, putting his hands behind his neck. "Do you think she's okay?"

Charles shrugs, an impassive gesture that doesn't reflect the turmoil inside his brain and heart. He is worried about her, and has been for a while. "I'm sure she is, she's back in Los Angeles." They have texted often since he left right after the Grand Prix, but it isn't the same as hearing her voice tell him it's alright.

Carlos stares at him for a few seconds more, thinking his next words through. It's not like he doesn't notice the way Charles looks at y/n every time they're in the same room, he also isn't ignorant to the get-together they shared in Monaco—the one Charles shared zero details about—or what happened in Spain when neither made it to dinner.

But he wonders if Charles is aware of how hard he is falling and what kind of a mess he's getting into.

Carlos likes y/n too, although it took them some time to become acquainted. y/n knows how to throw the exact words at him to tease him, she's brilliant, and when people aren't putting her down, her good mood is contagious. She's like sunshine coming through the curtains on a warm morning.

Yet, it's obvious he'll feel more protective over Charles. He knows it's a mistake to spend so much time on social media, not only looking at what people say about himself, but about Charles and y/n, the cruel lies and twisted truths. He has thought about asking Charles whether he's really aware of the way things look to the outsiders, or how they're tearing him down too.

"What is it?" Charles asks, frowning.

Carlos shakes his head. It's not his place to say anything about his infatuation, if that's what this is. "Why don't you give her a call?"

"Yes, I might." Charles nods absently, looking at his lock screen. Pierre has sent him another link to more news about how he's a homewrecker. Pierre calls him 'loverboy' and makes fun of every new article that comes out about y/n and him. Charles hasn't found it entertaining once.

"Charles," the PR manager doesn't have to raise her voice in the silence of the room. "Come here, right now. Please."

"Told you," Carlos mutters, crossing his legs.

Charles groans and gets up. A reprimand isn't the end of the world when his car gets progressively shittier and luck left him a while ago.

And when he's not sure of when he'll see y/n again.

Charles knows he doesn't need to 'fight' in the name of y/n, or that she even would like him to. She warned him weeks ago that he shouldn't get into the nightmare that this situation is. But he'll be damned if he's going to continue letting people put her down at his expense.

y/n is not a damsel in distress, he knows. And standing up for her doesn't make him a knight in shining armor. It makes him a decent human being and a good friend.

Charles thinks really hard about this, way often. Is it okay that his friend makes his heartbeat quicken every time they're together? He feels like a teenager again, with butterflies flying around his stomach when he thinks about her. Not to mention the fact that he's tried to flirt with her several times, to no avail.

There are many things in the world that Charles wishes he could change. His luck, to begin with. But he really wishes things were different when it comes to y/n. He wants her to have peace, he wishes she'd never had to deal with panic attacks or anxiety induced by hate. He wishes they'd met in another time, when things weren't so fragile and the world could stay away from them, and wherever he knows he wants things with her to go.

And he wishes he knew if he's brave enough to deal with all of it.

"Hello?"

The wave of emotion hits him from head to toe and it takes him a moment to catch his breath. He's worse than a teenager, he knows. Charles has never acted this way before, and it makes him vulnerable in a way he doesn't completely dislike, but isn't comfortable with either.

"Hello y/n," he says, after clearing his throat. "I was um– I was just thinking about you."

There is a pause on the other side of the line and Charles looks at the clock on his nightstand. He did the math to figure out the timezones three times, yet he does it again.

"Hi Charles," her voice comes after a sigh of relief, "Were you?"

"Uh– yeah, I– I just wanted to know how you're doing."

Another prolonged silence and Charles adds: "Is that okay?"

y/n chuckles, "Of course it's okay."

"So, how are you?" Charles continues, anxiously pacing around the room. He wants to ask the right questions. "How's L.A.?" maybe that's not one of them.

"Well, it's Lalaland, what can you expect?" there is movement in the background and then a door shuts. "How's Maranello?"

"Well..." Charles isn't sure if Elix has called her already and he doesn't want to be the one to break the news. "The usual. Praying for improvement every week."

"That's something we have in common," y/n's chuckle comes without humor this time. "But I'm going back to New York in a few days, so that's something to look forward to."

Charles smiles. "Do you need any help with moving?"

"Are you flying from Italy to help me move back to New York?" y/n laughs and her genuineness is back.

"I could, if you needed me to."

He has never felt more awkward in his life, or giddier.

"Thank you, Charles. But I have two suitcases with me, I can handle it like a big girl."

It's Charles' turn to laugh, he has stopped pacing. “Just let me know if you need me, y/n.”

“I think I will.” y/n says, and after some consideration: “Can you stay with me on the phone? Just for a little while.”

And Charles is embarrassingly willing to drop everything and stay on the phone for as long as she needs to.

“Yes, sure,” he replies instead, “What do you want to talk about?”

And they talk about everything and nothing. Silly commercials, pet-peeves about airports, favorite colors and long forgotten songs. It takes more than a little while, but neither care about how much time has passed.

It’s not mental gymnastics realizing he likes her. Likes her, likes her. He feels like he’s inside one of her RomComs; already pining for her. What would the name be? Something cheesy and catchy, like 'Racing Hearts'. He likes it. And hates it, too.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” She interrupts her story about the nightmare that Paris was when filming Parisian Valentine, not minding cutting her story short.

Regret comes immediately because he doesn’t know how to fill the silence now, not with the words he wants to say.

That he knows how delicate things are right now. That he likes her for who she has shown him to be and how he is impatient to know even more about her. But he knows he’s probably going to scare her away if those silly words actually come out of his mouth.

“I like talking to you,” Charles says instead. The caffeine hasn't left his system, but he knows the new buzz comes from something else.

“But?” Y/n prompts, he can hear the change in her tone.

“No buts. I like it, I like you.”

“I like you too, Charles.” She says softly, and he pictures the small smile on her face. The one she saves for the times she's one hundred percent comfortable, like when they were at the lake in Monaco.

“And I want you to be okay,”

y/n lets out a shaky breath that makes the microphone crackle. “We are okay, though, aren’t we?” She’s thinking about the tabloids again.

“We are okay. We’ve been on the phone for two hours,” he laughs, and, regretfully, lets out a yawn before he can help it.

“Get some rest, Charlie,” y/n lowers her voice too. “Thank you for staying with me.”

The endearment, although common when people try to be cute to him, sends another wave of giddiness through his body.

"Anytime," he doesn't fight her goodbye because it's a lost cause, especially after he let on his tiredness. "I mean it."

"Thank you," she repeats, "You're a good friend."

Charles smiles, that's enough for now, more than enough for now.

"See you soon, y/n." Charles assures, a smile on his face.

"Goodnight Charlie."

─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! are we loving charles or not? thank you to everyone who lets me know their thoughts and interpretations of Delicate, it's incredibly motivating for me to keep writing and it makes me super happy! if you're a ghost reader, i also appreciate you, but don't be shy to interact♡❞

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Note

This request is actually inspired by my fic I'm writing and I wanted to see your interpretation of the scene.

Tav is the daughter of a well known pirate, basically the black beard of Baldur's Gate, but after an attack that lead to her father and alot of the crews death she roamed Baldur's Gate until the mindflayer thing happened.

Currently, she and everyone are at a tavern, celebrating another successful quest and honestly still being alive when she hears a familiar song and she sees four old crew members (family) she thought was gone. What is your interpretation of the scene, how would Astarion would react to the news, and seeing her reuinte with her family?

I did not expect this to turn out as long as it did lmao

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader (can be read as gn)

Warnings: fear of abandonment, alcohol/drinking, swearing

Word Count: 2,123

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The tavern was lively and bustling on the evening you and your companions squeezed in, the sun beginning to paint the sky in dramatic colors as it sets. Almost instantly, your party's spirits are lifted - yours included.

Finding a table for 7 people is no easy feat, but you manage to snag one in the corner. Drinks were served around, jokes about the battle you’d just endured and old stories of lives before the Illithid threat fill the air with an easy camaraderie. It reminds you of your father's ship, of the crew that raised you. Thinking about them again left a bitter taste in your mouth. Astarion must have noticed the distant look in your eye. He reached under the table for your hand, interlacing your fingers easily, and trying to catch your eye.

You smile at him, but your eyes are still glazed over. “I’m just thinking about my family, is all,” you tell him, as though it’s as mundane as thinking of what one needs to get from the market to make dinner. You’d told him of your father, his crew, the ship - and what happened to it. It’s been months, but it’s still too fresh. You still wake up in the dead of night from visions of colossal waves that pull your head under, and screams cut short with the slice of a cutlass. “This… reminds me of them.”

He offers a concerned smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’m flattered we remind you of drunken sailors,” he drawled sarcastically. It worked to get a laugh out of you, if nothing else.

“Drunken pirates,” you correct. He watches the smile slip, your eyes become distant once more, water pricking at the corners.

Astarion had a… complicated relationship with family. He couldn’t remember his parents, and the “family” Cazador provided were less-than-welcoming at best. As such, he never really knew how to comfort you in times like these. Not that he knew how to comfort anyone, really, but he wanted to try, at least.

“Gods,” you sigh, choked with emotion, “I miss those daft fools.” You lean your head against his shoulder. He maneuvers to wrap his arm around your middle, holding you close, and takes your hand again. “We used to celebrate like this,” you mumbled. His elven ears picked it up easily. “We’d drown the night in ale and groan about it in the morning. Played knife-throwing games as our visions start to spin and double. Sing songs at the top of our lungs, like screaming it would scare away any monster at sea.”

You sigh again. Though he can’t see your face, he can see when you use your free hand to wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”

“Darling,” he hums, squeezing your hand, “we are technically in this together. Your burdens are mine and all that. In any case, you’ve carried all of our burdens, even when you didn’t have to. I’m only returning the favor.”

“Thank you.” You lift your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. He grins, all too pleased with the simple affection you lavish on him. “Now, enough wallowing.” You clear your throat and grab your tankard. “This is a celebration. And I intend to be too drunk to walk before the night is out.”

He sighed dramatically, lifting his goblet of wine. “And I suppose I’ll be the one to carry you back to camp?”

You smirk up at him, a glint in your eye. Like this, he can imagine you as the pirate you are. Swashbuckling and taking down other ships, climbing up ropes to the top of the sails, peering out from the crow’s nest for any sign of adventure. Dry land did not suit you, he thought.

But then came the thoughts that always followed. If you did return to the sea, to your old life with a new crew, after these tadpoles are removed, he couldn’t follow. The only reason he’s safe from the sun and the burn of running water was because of the damned, wriggly things. He couldn’t follow you onto a ship to be locked away in confined cabins until night, or help if the waters chose to fold over the deck in great big waves, threatening to take down the vessel. He couldn’t have that life. Not with you.

Your head was thrown back, neck bobbing with each gulp of shitty ale. You did not see the pain on his features those thoughts brought him. He tossed back the last of his wine.

You stand and gather the empty mugs of your companions, bright-eyed and ready for round after round (Karlach only encourages this.), when something sounds across the tavern. It’s a rather large establishment, and the bustle of other patrons covers up everything. But it’s there. Loud and boisterous and-

You rush to step over the bench and find the source of the noise. Astarion frowns and chases after. He’s right on your tail as you push through drunkards with half-formed “Excuse me”s and “Coming through”s. As you get closer and closer, the sound becomes clearer. It’s not just noise - it’s singing. A cacophony of voices all singing together.

You squeeze past a barmaid, nearly knocking the drinks from her hands, but the apology is lost when you see a table full of drunken pirates. One starts to take a swig mid-song, when his eyes land on you. He’s on his feet - Is that a peg leg? - in an instant, dropping the tankard carelessly to the table.

“Tav?” he gasps. The rest fall silent, turning around to see what the man was gawking at. They thought he was imagining it, as he’d done time and again since the attack. They all leapt up and rushed forward when you were more than a figment of their alcohol-addled minds.

Astarion was pushed aside as a horde of pirates surrounded you, hugging you and ruffling your hair and all speaking hurriedly with worry and joy. He can’t ignore the pain in his chest, as though someone had driven a stake through his heart. You hugged each one, misty eyed. Questions fell ceaselessly from your lips as you asked how they survived, what happened, what they’d been doing all this time. And he knew. He knew without a shadow of a doubt. He could not hope to be more important than your family. He couldn’t be the one you chose - not when you’d recounted your friends with tales of the open ocean and your father’s crew for hours.

He quietly backed away. The others ask why you rushed off and what was happening when he returned to grab the bottle of wine. He wasn’t too sure what he said. He’d like to think it was some sort of “They found their family” said with a charming grin, and a simple, but believable, excuse to go back to camp not like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, but like a vampire with things that need doing back at camp. Alone. With a bottle of wine.

Your eyes are red and your smile is about to burst off your face when you drag your pirate family over to meet your companions. You’re bouncing on your feet with energy, introducing everyone and nearly crying again when the pirates embrace everyone like family. Your heart is soaring when you look around for Astarion, searching around the table, the bar, the crowd. And it starts falling when you don’t see him anywhere.

“Hey, have any of you seen Astarion?”

Gale groaned as he was released from a bone-crushing hug. He winced as he held his shoulder. “He said he was heading back to camp.”

Your heart crashed firmly against hard cement, leaving cracks in the foundation. “Back to- Why? Did he say why?”

“No,” Shadowheart answered this time, trying not to get caught admiring the intricate braid of another crewmate. “He just took the wine and ran.”

The warm environment suddenly felt cold and unwelcoming. Was he uncomfortable with your family? They were known to be rather callous and loud - maybe they’d scared him off? Was the idea of confronting their family just too stressful for him? Did it bring up unwanted memories? Why… Why did he run off?

You touch an older pirate’s arm, letting them know you’ll be right back. They smile and nod and pull you in for one last hug. It feels bittersweet. You dash off from the tavern back to camp.

When you arrive, he’s uncorking a second bottle of stolen alcohol, frowning and grumbling and pacing. He’s so deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice you’re there until you say his name. He frowns deeply at you. “Shouldn’t you be catching up with your family?” he asks, but it’s bitter and cold.

You frown. “I wanted you to meet them. Why’d you leave?”

He looks away, focusing instead on taking a long drink from the bottle. It’s had no time to air out; he almost grimaces at the flavor. He pretends to read the label. “It was getting a little crowded in there,” he dismisses.

“So you leave without saying anything?”

“Well,” he begins, drawn-out and sarcastic, creating a barrier between you and his emotions, “you were busy. I’d hate to get in the way.”

You huff. “Astarion, please, just tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing.” He scowls. He begins pacing again. “Nothing’s wrong! You’ve found your family again! I’m so happy for you.” He spits the word like it burns him to say it.

“Is that what this is about? My family?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?” you plead. “What’s wrong?”

“YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE!” He sighs at his outburst, glaring at the ground. His feet are locked to ground, refusing to move closer or further away - because he can’t decide which would be better. “Once this is over, once we figure out how to remove these tadpoles, you’re going to run back to the sea. To a ship, with your family. And I can’t follow.” He scowls at himself. He hates laying out his thoughts, his feelings. It feels too vulnerable. He feels exposed. “You won’t stay on land.”

You won’t stay with me.

A silent war wages on in your head and in your heart. You’re torn in two directions - forced to choose between the people who raised you, the last fragments of your father and his ship, or Astarion, your vampiric lover. It’s painful.

You step forward slowly, like he’s going to startle and run away like a frightened rabbit. He doesn’t move. And he doesn’t look at you. The bottle in his hand feels too heavy.

“I love my family,” you start. You can see in an instant as his walls come back up. His face, still upset and angry, becomes stoic and defensive. “And I love the sea.” You stop in front of him. “And I love you.”

He closes his eyes, prepared for the rejection.

“I… I had a whole life on the ocean.” Your fingers brush his hand. It twitches involuntarily, wishing to hold you, for just one last moment. When he doesn’t pull away, you tangle your fingers with his. “I want to see what a future on land would be like.”

He swallows. He opens his eyes, but he can’t look at you. He looks instead at your hand in his. “And when you decide a life on a ship is better than hiding in the shadows with me?”

You pull his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. He watches longingly.

“If I decide to sail again,” you accentuate your words with a kiss to the meat of his thumb, “I’ll come back. Over and over again. I’ll sail for a week and stay with you for a month. I’ll sail a month and stay with you a year. I love you, Astarion. And I will always choose you. And when we find a cure for vampirism, you can come with me.”

He huffs a laugh. “I’d be a poor excuse for a pirate.”

“You can scrub the deck.”

He finally meets your eyes with a playful scowl. It softens into something quiet and sad. “I don’t want to tear you from your family.”

You shake your head, stepping even closer. “You’re not, I promise. Now that I know they’re alive, I’ll be damned if I don’t keep in touch. But all they know is the sea. They have no reason to stay ashore - they’re heading out with a new captain next week.” You cup his cheek with your free hand. He sighs and leans into the touch. “I want to stay on land for a while longer.”

---

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piratefishmama · 3 months

Text

I Wish | Part 4

They were playing first. Their kit was on a real stage, set up across from where the ‘host’ would sit, along with a long couch and an extra chair set closest to the host’s desk.

They’d be taping live, which meant real singing, real playing, and Eddie felt… alive.

He expected to feel terrified, out of his depth, expected to be a complete shambles but Steve was right. Eddie felt at peace on stage. He knew the lyrics, they came to him one after the other without any delay, as if he were the one who’d written them instead of a man he didn’t, and frankly didn’t want to know.

He bounced around the stage like a teenager, exuberant, blind to the cameras, to the lights, the laughter mid-way through his lyrics was real, cackled down a microphone alongside Jeff who seemed just as thrilled to be there as he did, their smiles real their energy electric, their chemistry like lightning and where they were, what they’d accomplished no matter how hard it’d been to get there, they’d captured that lightning, bottled it.

For a brief moment, he caught Steve’s eye, the Genie off to the side of the stage, watching through the curtains that lead back behind it all, saw him smile, A sun’s worth of warmth radiating from that soft grin, a true cherry on the top of the sundae that was his life in that moment.

Then the climax, the ending riff, Jeff taking them home with the last few chords, and they were done, final note echoing through the studio until the audiences cheers replaced the ebbing echo of that final note.

It blew by so fast, Eddie barely remembered what he’d done, what he’d sang, but he’d done it.

His chest ached, his skin felt clammy, his hair was a mess that’d be fixed before they moved onto the actual talk show element of the talk show, but nothing could kill that high. He didn’t know how he could have possibly gotten addicted to anything but the thrill of being on that stage, couldn’t imagine the buzz he’d have gotten from something like The Garden if a talk show stage had given him that.

He wanted to savour it, wanted to celebrate, to ricochet off of the walls with his friends, and turning around he expected to be able to do that, but—

They weren’t on that level with him.

Gareth was already grabbing a bottle of water, hopping from the stage to meet with his own small group of stylists, Dougie had already set his bass down, his attention on getting himself backstage too, and Jeff… well, Jeff was already gone, just the sight of his back disappearing beyond the curtain, patting Steve on the shoulder as he walked past him.

Steve, who could only offer that same damned sympathetic smile before he motioned with a gentle nod of his head to return to backstage.

It wasn’t the same for them. They’d done this a thousand times, talk shows, award shows, concerts, basement gigs, dive bars, the works, they’d been around the block, done the song and dance, a talk show wasn’t anything huge for them, it wasn’t an accomplishment and even though they had all that energy during the performance it wasn’t for anyone. They didn’t have to stick around and be full of life and excitement, the audience didn’t expect it, they had the claps, the cheers, and then once the prompters cued silence, it went quiet.

They could just. Go through the motions.

He set his guitar down in its stand, he didn’t recognise it, it wasn’t his Warlock, he had no idea where his sweetheart was now, did he still have it? He didn’t know, it wasn’t in the hotel room, he’d have for sure noticed it there. There was no time to linger on that though.

His team of stylists were rushing to collect him, he didn’t even have a moment to speak to Steve before he was whisked back to his dressing room, didn’t get a moment to decompress before he was cleaned up, hair fixed, clothes changed, and anti-glare makeup reapplied for the cameras.

A whirlwind of things happening all around him and all he could do was sit there and wonder just when his friends had lost the spark for it all. Which year had been the last time they’d picked up their instruments as if it were the first time. Which year had they stopped treating their fame, their opportunities as a miracle and started treating it like just another Tuesday.

He really was trying to see the positives though, having gotten a glimpse of the highs while on that stage, he knew it couldn’t be all bad, there had to be more good because why else would they continue if the rest wasn’t worth it in some way?

There had to be other highs right?

Eddie was waiting, waiting for their cue to join the host up on stage when everything became just a little. Weird. Time slowed, the movements of everyone around him became sluggish, lagging, as though someone had actually slowed time for everyone but himself “Alright, so—” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin as Steve appeared at his side

“Is this you?” He motioned to the state of the people around him, he could see Gareth nearby in an incredibly slowed down attempt to ‘quickly’ eat a cream donut before they joined the host on set, the sight of cream slow-mo bursting from the other end of the donut one that he would never forget ever, it was seared into his brain and would remain there regardless of whether or not he went home.

Steve nodded his head “I wanted to give you a heads up, everything is happening so fast and you’re super overstimulated right now.” True, he felt like his nervous system was about to anxiety its way out of the nearest window. Steve rounded him though, stood in front of him, then reached to rest both hands on Eddie’s biceps, holding him, grounding him, eyes locked, Eddie’s focus had to stay on Steve, as if it could ever stray. “Just breathe, the host, Jimmy? He’s great, a really nice guy. He’s a singer, not professionally but he sings, got his start in comedy. He’s respectful, and he’s not going to try and trip anyone up. I would not have dropped you on some Larry King shit show, I swear. There’s gonna be a few questions about your tour, and then he’s probably going to have you play some fun little game with him, it’s going to be okay.”

“A—a game?”

“Yeah, Jimmy isn’t usually a strictly business kinda guy, I’m surprised he didn’t have you tape some weird little opener with him, they might do that in a bit once he’s met you all properly. Listen, you’ve never been on here before, so don’t think you have to pretend to know him personally. Just be yourself an you’ll be fine.” Steve had so much faith in him, and while Eddie didn’t really believe there to be any grounds for that faith given how short their time together had been, it felt nice to have it shown so freely.

Even if he couldn't help but ask, “…why are you so nice to me, Steve?”

“I told you already, I like you.” Steve brushed a stray curl away from Eddie’s face with that same warm smile, Eddie’s poor little heart thudding heavily against his ribcage. Wasn’t he a little old to be blushing like a school girl? Maybe physically, but he sure as shit felt that warmth in his cheeks anyway. He sure as shit felt the need to hide behind his hair that he currently couldn’t do. “You have a good heart, Eddie…” Steve pressed a gentle hand to his chest, fingertips resting atop his rapidly thumping heart “filled with all the right stuff.”

Don’t develop feelings for a Genie, don’t develop feelings for a Genie, dooooon’t develop feelings. For. A. GENIE.

If nothing else it was UNETHICAL.

Time returned to its natural state without warning, momentarily throwing Eddie for another loop because Steve wasn’t there anymore. Just his friends. Gareth shoving a new shirt over his head, Jeff fixing his funny little bow tie, Dougie sniff testing the shirt he was wearing as if he hadn't just put it on, last minute fixes before—

“Please help me welcome to the stage, Corroded Coffin!!” Cue the applause, and they were on. His three friends headed on first, Gareth being the only one who looked back at Eddie, Eddie who'd delayed for a second longer, having taken a step and slammed directly into a wall of nerves. Gareth took his hand without comment, and coaxed him out, a nerve destroying smile on his face that made everything just a little less scary.

If Gareth could handle it, little no-longer-baby-faced Gareth who once upon a time Eddie had looked after in his first year of high-school, all the way back when he was wide-eyed and scared of the rapidly changing world around him, Eddie could handle it.

He’d be fine.

He'd be fine.

#PirateWrites #IWishFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Genie!Steve #is he gonna be fine?#only time will tell!

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onsunnyside · 1 year

Text

:･ﾟ➴ 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭: 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Chris Evans x short!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, size difference, SMUT - minors DNI, short!reader, size kink, dom!chris, praise kink, degradation, dumbification, spitting, oral (m & f mentioned), dirty talk, choking, daddy kink, spanking, unprotected sex (p in v, anal), breeding kink, squirting, creampie.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭: 𝐈 & 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭: 𝐈𝐈 continuation.

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.38K

𝗔/𝗡 | to celebrate daddy being the sexiest man alive, here is part three of one of my first stories !! i hope you all enjoy. all mistakes are my own.

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Chris is an early bird, quite the opposite of you. Especially after long travelling trips—it usually takes a few days for you to get back to your usual lively self. Jet lag always gets the best of you but it was worth it to visit your boyfriend while he worked.

And now that he’s back home and grateful he doesn’t have to live out of suitcases anymore, you two spent the whole night catching up and soaking in each other’s warmth before retreating to his big comfy bed.

Even though he wants to spend time with you after being apart for months, he lets you sleep in. When he got out of bed, he made sure you were tucked in the plush sheets and snuggled with pillows. All warm and safe from the autumn weather outside—and Dodger who stared at you until you woke up.

When you met Chris, he only had four pillows on his bed. Now he has at least seven, not counting the decorative ones. Similarly, his blanket game has significantly evolved to a collection of the softest blankets you’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping with, oh, and don’t forget about his special winter ones that are thick and fluffy.

“Do you wanna go to the dog park?” Dodger perks up, adorable eyes looking at his owner intently. “You wanna go now, bubba?” Dodger hops down from the couch and goes toward the master bedroom. He stops, looking back at his owner.

Chris can’t help but laugh. “You’re right, let’s wake her up.” He follows his dog down the hallway and the opened French doors at the end.

You’re lying on your side, buried in the sheets with your face mushed in between two pillows and the white blanket up to your ears—he didn’t know how you slept with your face half covered. (“Can you even breathe?” “Duh, how else would I wake up every morning?” “Oh, shut up.”)

Chris slowly makes his way to the bed, shushing Dodger. “She’s tired, bubba. Do you really want her to come?”

The dog looks at him, head tilted to the side as his tongue hangs out.

“Of course, you do.” Chris sighs, wondering why he even asked. He gently caresses your head and brushes your hair with his fingers. Cooing and calling your name softly. “Wakey, wakey, darling.”

You flip over, still sound asleep with your arms above your head and quiet breaths coming from your parted mouth.

Chris barely resists tickling you, the last time he did that, you bruised his nose. So instead, he delicately traces down your jaw to your neck, shaking your shoulder. “Baby, c’mon, Dodger is going to start whining.”

As if on cue, from his spot on the bed, the dog starts making high-pitched noises. Loud enough that your eyes flutter open, immediately squinting from the bright sunshine.

“Ugh, why are the curtains open, you dick.”

“Because the plant you refuse to move needs light.” Chris glances at the little string of pearls hanging from the ceiling by the sliding glass doors.

“I told you to put another hook in the dining room.”

“And I told you to marry me before you start making renovations to my house.”

The glare you send almost scares him—but it’s Chris and it’s you, so he just shoots you an exaggerated grin. “Are you going to marry me now? Think about all of the amazing sleep you’ll get in our bed with the curtains shut whenever you want.”

Feeling forgotten, Dodger whines again. His heavy paw lands on your stomach as he noses at your face.

“I think you mean that I’ll instead get woken up by a grumpy puppy staring at me every morning.” You rub the pup’s ears, squirming away when he licks your face. “Yeah, isn’t that right, bubba? You’re a grumpy puppy when your daddy doesn’t wake up on time to feed you?”

“I think he likes when his mama feeds him more.”

You’ve gotten used to the marriage topic and Chris’ half jokes (it wasn’t a secret that he wanted to go the full mile). The media’s unrelenting rumours and debates about your relationship status were old news: “Trouble in Paradise? Details of Chris Evans’ failed marriage proposal to girlfriend!” “Captain Can’t Have It All: Chris Evans is officially the sexiest and saddest man alive”

It was funny how a lot of the articles credited close sources when in reality it was just a bunch of dramatic assumptions.

All those pesky breakup rumours end (for the time being anyway) when you post a baking video: homemade dog treats.

You posted the video on your Instagram captioned: Very proud to announce this recipe is approved by the toughest critic pup! Hard work does indeed pay off.

The video was cute, you were dressed in an apron and one of Chris’ flannels. In the comfort of his kitchen, you carefully followed the recipe, chatting up a storm with the very interested puppy (“He isn’t a puppy anymore.” “All dogs are puppies.”) at your feet.

After you finished cooking, it cut to Dodger at a miniature table, he had one of those doggy smiles and was wearing a bib, very obediently waiting for you to set up a few of the fresh treats. You gave him the go and he dug in, practically devouring the food in seconds.

Once he was done, he looked up at you in a silent plea for more, definitely giving you those signature puppy dog eyes—and who were you to deny such a sweet boy of his treats! The video ended with shaky footage of you being kissed to death by the happy pup.

People loved it, some even trying the recipe themselves and tagging you in it. Your friends made jokes about you ditching your job to become a full-time pastry chef for dogs, and honestly, you wouldn’t mind it.

One comment, in particular, catches your attention.

chrisevans: What a good girl ❤️ Will you cook for me and call me baby too?

That made you miss him even more and you immediately called him to gush about your little baking adventure.

“I miss you so fuckin’ much.” You can hear the pout in his voice. “Come see me this week, please?” Chris had a habit of forgetting that you can’t just drop everything and go with him to work. Sure, you tried your best but it was tough if he was across the globe.

Fights about that usually last a few hours at most. Chris hates going to bed angry and he’d much rather cuddle and talk it out than not say “I love you” before going to sleep.

As his birthday approached, you told him you couldn’t make it. As much as it hurt to lie to him, you had to for the surprise. Scott was already there, not wanting his brother to spend his birthday alone and when he asked if you could surprise Chris—no convincing was needed.

After getting on set while Chris was off filming, you huddled inside his trailer. It was a little hectic inside, with clothes and shoes skewed across the floor and an unmade bed. Empty coffee cups and water bottles were scattered over the counters. Working Chris was a little different than home Chris, so you cleaned up as much as you could, not wanting him to walk into a mess on his birthday.

“—I have ice in the freezer, I’ll just use that.” His voice flows through the opened window. You barely contain your squeal of excitement, quickly fumbling to fix your little setup. The door clicks open but no footsteps follow. “Did you lock my door?”

“Yeah,” Scott answers back. You hope he was recording.

Chris huffs, stepping one foot into the trailer. “No, you didn’t. It’s unlocked. I told you to lock it before you left, idiot.” When he sees you, his immediate reaction is to scream. With wide eyes and a hand over his chest, he falls back into the wall, taking a few seconds to process who’s in front of him. Then, the biggest, brightest grin grows on his face.

“Happy birthday!” You jump off the bed, tackling him in a hug. He picks you off the floor with his hands under your thighs, hiking you up high to kiss your lips with such force you get lightheaded.

“I got you flowers.” You pull away and point over at the dresser where the luscious bouquet sat. “And your favourite ice cream, that new book you’ve been talking about, a new sweater and baseball cap and—”

He interrupts you with another kiss, slipping his tongue between your lips and lowering you until your core brushes against his crotch. Scott gags, announcing to call him when you’re off to dinner before leaving. The door slams shut and you and Chris are alone.

When he pulls away, you bite his lip cheekily. “I thought presents were supposed to be a surprise.” His voice is deep and gravelly, and his lips stretch into a smirk under his moustache.

“Oh! Forget I said anything.” (You also made him a photo album, you cut up pictures of you both as children to glue together to make it look like they knew each other. It was dumb but it was cute! And Chris said he loved it!)

You freaked out about the nasty bruise on his arm and didn’t calm down until he accepted your offer to pamper him.

(Scott posts the video with a caption: Happy 40th birthday to my brother! Thought I’d get him the best present this year—a girl who can handle all his asshole behaviour! One of a kind for the best brother out there. P.S. yes, the ending of the video was as awkward for me as it was for you all watching. We’ll probably welcome a new baby in the next nine months.)

And well… Chris wouldn’t tell him but that was his plan from the moment he saw you.

Your clothes litter the once clean floor and your panties are tight in his fist as he brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply before he shoves them into your mouth, “Gotta be quiet, baby, these walls are thin.”

If he truly cared about keeping it quiet, he wouldn’t be bouncing you on his cock, using you like a toy and spanking your ass. His balls slap against the plug nestled deep inside your puckered hole, stretched and ready for him. You’re so pretty when you’re gagged, but he would rather hear you.

“Daddy, uh—uh, I can’t.” You weakly brace yourself against his hairy chest, digging your nails into his tattooed flesh. “You’re too—fuck!”

His blue eyes cloud with lust, he watches you whine and weep on his girth, babbling nonsense about him being too big, too deep. That wouldn’t do, you were made for his cock, and you fucking loved when he was all up in your guts. This was his birthday present (the best he’s ever been given) and he was going to take full advantage of it.

He groans when your walls tighten. The tendons in his neck tense and his arm hooks around your waist, tugging you closer. “Daddy’s too deep? Just wait ‘til I get in that ass.”

He manhandles you into different positions: on your side so he could wrap his bicep around your neck and make you watch in the mirror, he hooks your legs over his shoulders and bends you in half, gripping the headboard above you as you squirt again and he fills you for the first time that day, promising the end is nowhere near.

Chris fucks you like he hates you while cursing about how much he fucking loves you, his sweet girl.

“Such a little thing, poor cunt is crying on my cock, makin’ a stupid mess.” “Remember when you could only take me halfway? Fucked yourself on my tip like a dumb baby, now look atcha. Stuffed so full you can’t even think.” “That’s okay, daddy loves you even when you’re a little dummy.”

His big frame blocks any sort of light, shrouding you in shadows and bliss. Every thrust shoves the air straight from your lungs, leaving you a gasping, weeping mess. You gnaw on your fingers, squirming as he pounds into your ass, hitting deeper than ever. Your body ignites in hot pleasure, it prickles at your skin and makes tears well up in your eyes, that band tightening in your belly again.

“Look at that pretty hole, stretched to the brim with daddy’s cock, gonna have no more room when I cum in you again, huh?” He coos when you cry and kisses your wet cheeks. “You better thank me for giving your pussy a break.”

“T-Thank you, da—daddy.” You hiccup, eyes rolling back as his pace builds with speed and strength, his hips slap against your ass, obscenely wet noises filling the room.

Your juices and his previous load dribble out of your used cunt to your ass. He fucks that filth back into you, groaning lowly as your cream coats his pulsating length. “That’s my good little slut.” “Fuck—you’re so fuckin’ messy, huh? Look at that shit.” He forces you to look down, a ring of whiteness sits at the thick base of his cock, sticking to his skin and smearing to his full balls, undoubtedly a mixture of your shared arousal. “Dirty girl, creamin’ all over me. Should make you clean it up, fuck your pretty face—and make you suck on my balls too.”

Your please daddy is barely audible.

“Yeah, you want that, baby? Wanna clean daddy’s sack like a little ballslut?” He spits on your soppy core, adding to the filthy fluids that cover your petals. “My sweet baby, you’re doing so good for me. Gonna knock you up tonight, you know that?”

He licks his thumb, then brings it down to your puffy clit which was still sensitive from his mouth—and that fucking moustache. You gasp sharply, your hand shooting out to grasp his wrist. “Missed these pretty holes, missed your creamy cunt on my face. This little button missed me too, yeah?” “Daddy will give her lots of attention, sweet girl, gonna get her all swollen and make it hurt—I know you love it when it hurts.”

The trailer was rocking and there’s no doubt that everyone knew what was going on (if your moans weren’t enough).

“Daddy loves your little hole, baby, feels so fucking good.” “You worked yourself open just for me? Fingered your ass like a whore so I could fuck you?” “That’s why you’re my baby, always so good for me.”

Your mind goes blank as he fucks you stupid, drool hangs out of your mouth and you feebly push at his abs. “Poor baby, am I going too deep?” “Good, wanna fuck all that attitude outta you.”

You can do nothing but watch as he rocks above you, the light fanning around his head like a halo as sweat glistens on his skin.

“Open up.” You obey, and he spits on your tongue, then again on your cheek so he could smear it into your skin. He grips your throat, and your wispy gasps turn into squeaky uh, uh, uh’s, “You want it, baby? Want daddy’s cum up your ass? Wanna be my little cumrag tonight?” “Beg me.”

“Dad–dy, please cum in me. I wanna, uh, need to feel—” Your voice breaks into a mewl when he slips two fingers into your sore pussy. You’re rushed to the edge, teetering closer with every pump of his long, thick fingers, your juices leak out around his cock, claiming him in the lewdest of ways.

“Fucked so dumb you can’t even beg.” “What’s this fuckin’ mouth for then? Is it just another hole for my cock and balls? A filthy cumdump?” He wished you could see yourself, cockdrunk with tears and spit on your face, your makeup ruined beyond salvation—but he thought you’ve never looked more beautiful. “Must be.” He drops down to lick into your slack mouth, kissing you breathlessly as his hips stutter, his fingers thrusting into that rough patch brutally.

All it takes is a few rumbling dirty words for you to reach that high. You clench around him and he presses balls deep, taking out his fingers to rub your puffy clit. Euphoria comes in bright colours and tingling sensations, with a final cry of his name, your juices spurt out and cover his hand and lower abs.

His body gives out and he crashes on top of you, pinning you down as his seed fills you to the brim, dribbling out from around his pulsating length and down his tight balls. “Fuckin’ take it, take my fuckin’ cum—so good—”

He swipes up the droplets and brings them to your mouth, tracing your lips before rubbing your tongue. “Don’t we taste good together, baby?” He wraps your legs around his waist and starts thrusting again, fucking his cum deeper while some also leak out, adding to the messy sheets. “Daddy’s not done yet, I gotta teach you a lesson about lying to me—for my fucking birthday, ya brat.”

It was safe to say that you’ve never felt more dirtier and loved when you limped out of the trailer a few hours later, practically waddling to the car with wet cheeks that never seemed to cool down—while Chris strutted proudly with his arms full of his gifts, your panties in his pocket and waving his hotel key. “I plan on taking full advantage of your visit, darling, 41 is a milestone to celebrate.”

Chris loved winning. Whether it was a lame competition between the two of you/with his brother, or an award/role he’s been hoping for, Chris strived to come out on top time and time again. Although, he’s gotten to that point in his career where things can slow down and he’s comfortable in his place, successful and secure. (“Some would say that makes the perfect time for a wedding but what the hell do I know?” He laughed sarcastically.)

Hence why you’re currently upside down and being paraded around the house like a prize.

You squeak when his hand lands on your ass. The flesh is still sore from earlier this morning when he fucked you into the mattress. He couldn’t resist when you were so cute and bleary, sweetly kissing his chest and telling him how much you loved him. If you didn’t want to get railed first thing in the morning, why the fuck were you wearing his t-shirt and no panties to bed? That’s just asking to get folded and fucked like his little whore.

“I didn’t hear that, what did you say?”

“I’m gonna throw up if you don’t put me down!”

Another sharp spank. “That’s not it. Maybe you'll learn to believe me from now on, huh? And not be a little brat in front of our friends.” “What was it, oh—he’d never win, he’s too much of a pussy to accept the title.”

You were drunk when you said that and you thought he was too, but as he got older, he limited his beers and was sober when you blatantly rejected any of his chances of winning the 2022 title of Sexiest Man Alive.

In fact, you bet he wouldn’t win—drunk you was a troublemaker. After the whole 2021 Sexiest Man Alive fiasco, you thought the media was going to rob him again. But you couldn’t have been more wrong, especially when the headlines came out and Chris had the biggest ‘I told you so’ smile on his face.

He’s lied before (about very stupid things), why would you believe him now? Especially when he expressed how nervous he was about accepting the title before, and how he would be bullied by his friends.

“I accepted it.”

“No, you didn’t.” You giggle sleepily, snuggling deeper into the sheets.

“I did.” Chris stands by the bathroom door, shirtless with his sweatpants hanging low. “I told you when I had the photoshoot, remember?”

No, you don’t because your memory was shit. “Mhm, okay. I guess you get delirious when you’re drunk. It’s okay, baby, you're still the sexiest man alive to me.” Then you fell asleep peacefully, buried under the blankets while he wrapped you in his arms, already feeling smug about your rude awakening just brimming on the horizon.

He thinks about you so much that he dreams about you almost every night. Even when you’re in his arms, tucked against him firmly with your cold feet brushing his legs. He used to say it took a long time for him to need human contact, but now he knows it was because he didn’t have you—he didn’t have someone who he wanted to be with all the time. Even just in your presence, in the same room doing completely different things in your own space but in each other’s company.

Speaking of drunk you, Chris never failed to care for you when you were inebriated and terribly uncoordinated.

“Behave.” He set you on the floor, pointing a finger at you which you tried to bite. “No. Hey, come back.” He drags you by your hips towards the bed after you tried leaving. “Get in bed.”

“Ooh, not gonna take me out to dinner first? And no flowers?” (As if he hadn’t showered you with affection all day/night while at a friend's birthday party). “I thought Christopher Evans was a chivalrous, romantic man?”

“He is. But only to good girls.” “Are you going to be my good girl and get into bed?”

It must’ve been the alcohol or his tatted, hairy chest peeking out from under his green button-up that filled your foggy mind with endless fantasies, making you instantly obey. Usually, you’d put up some more of a fight, asking him to touch you with his big soft hands—ugh, your panties were soaked and he seemed to know it from the smirk on his pretty face.

Chris takes your silence as confirmation and grabs clothes from his dresser. “Change into these, I know you’d hate me if I let you sleep in that.” He points to your tight satin blue dress.

You shake your head stubbornly.

Chris sighs. “C’mon, sweetheart, just do what I say.” “Don’t you want to be my good girl?”

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he knew what he was doing. In a daze, you clench your thighs, and rock your hips a little from your spot on the bed, drunk and desperate for some relief, anything.

Chris plays it cool, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from touching you. You’ve been teasing him all night, kissing his neck and grinding against him, it was a miracle he lasted this long. “I have to let Dodge outside, baby. Call me when you’re done and I’ll tuck you in.”

People still bring up those photos of him groping your ass or kissing you with a hand loosely around your throat. How could they ignore the ones that so vividly show off your size difference? He was the biggest when he was in the MCU, and proudly picked you up whenever he wanted, giving the paparazzi exactly what they wanted: “Chris Evans is a Giant and We Hope His Girlfriend is Okay” “When will Chris Evans learn his girlfriend isn’t a sack of potatoes? Here are our predictions!”

He was a giant. A damn mountain of a man as you kneel between his legs under the desk. “There we go—deeper, baby.” He grunts, guiding you further down his length. The fat tip is heavy on your tongue and already leaking precum, you sneakily lick at the pearls, desperate for a taste. He holds you as deep as you can go, which is barely halfway so you jerk the rest of his length with your hand.

He’s so thick your fingers don’t meet. Chris growls at the size difference, your cute hand dwarfed by his big dick. He gently pets your head when your tongue drags up and down the underside of his girth, messily spreading your saliva. “Are you gonna stay there while I work?” You nod or try to with his cock shoved down your throat. “What a sweet girl, keeping daddy’s cock warm. You’re my good little cocksleeve, hm?”

Your size difference got him off to no end, just the thought of you struggling to take his cock or his fingers in your tight holes made him rock hard.

He also loved being a dick about it too.

“Look, baby, I found your size.” Chris holds up a pair of infant shoes, dangling them from his fingers. He pouts mockingly, “you need new shoes, honey?”

You throw the tiny stuffed animal you were holding, it bounces off his head and lands on the ground.

Chris cackles, quickly covering his mouth when a couple looks over. He sets the shoes down and mutters under his breath, “No need for the tantrum… sheesh.”

“You know what, how about you shop for a gift alone? Better yet, why don’t you go to the baby shower alone?”

“Now, now, calm down before you explode.” “God knows how much anger can fit in your body, squirt.”

Chris has no clue how lucky he is. You claim to tolerate him poking fun at your height, but you actually really liked it. Your banter was always entertaining and if you were bratty enough, he’d go all dom mode.

“Are you okay??” “What happened to you?” “Call me ASAP”

#GetWellSoonY/N was trending along with a few photographs. Specifically, the ones taken of you with Chris and his family on vacation.

There were some of you both and his family on the beach, playing with the nieces and nephews, having a picnic or sightseeing.

Although, there were some of you and Chris that everyone seemed to focus on, along with a short video taken from a different angle than the photos. (Your disguises weren’t the best, and that’s probably why you were spotted).

You and Chris are talking, his hand on your waist and yours fiddling with a camera. You were trying to change the settings and when Chris offered (for the fourth time) to help, you just scoffed, “Yeah, the old man who can barely use his phone is going to help me with a camera that costs thousands of dollars? Pluh-ease.”

The video ends just after he lands a harsh spank on your ass, hard enough that you stumble forward and almost drop the camera. Worst of all, you can hear his palm make contact with your flesh.

‘Praying for Y/N and her 🐱.’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if chris’ gf can’t walk today.’

‘Y’all see that firmness of his hand? My ass is throbbing just from watching.’

And the best article title you’ve seen in a while: ‘BREAKING NEWS: Chris Evans SPANKS His Girlfriend! Why Can’t He Leave the Poor Girl Alone?’

“Well, my publicist is not happy… again.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I don’t know. Who has the attitude problem?”

You and Chris both stare at each other, clearly having different answers to that question. You narrow your eyes, at this moment, you hate that you have to look up at him while he glares down at you, his pink lips in a scowl.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” His voice lowers and he cups your jaw, leaning closer, the blues of his eyes going dark. “You’re lucky I take it easy on you.”

You laugh in disbelief, slapping away his hand. “Tell that to my bruised ass and waddle.”

Every once in a while, the public gets a peek into your relationship. The softer side that wasn’t broadcasted all over the media.

“Play. Play. Play.” The dog repeatedly presses the button. “Okay, okay, bub.” You come into the frame, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. You grab a ball from Dodger’s bucket of toys and step out to the backyard. The sun is setting, bathing the autumn trees and grass in gold, only adding to the tranquillity. Chris gets it all on camera: you throwing the ball and cheering enthusiastically when Dodger brings it back. You shower him in pets and kisses before throwing the ball again, this time further away.

This was it—this was home. Chris used to be convinced that he’d never reach that level of intimate security, that warm place where he could be vulnerable and trust someone else wholly. His whirlwind of life was full of obstacles, long months away from home, and nasty rumours and expectations that kept him up at night, but right now, all of that faded into the glow in your eyes as you waved him over with a gleaming smile.

He posted that video after you fell asleep.

chrisevans: What a perfect day! 🌲☀️❤️ Would’ve been more perfect if she didn’t wrestle me to the ground as soon as I stepped out, but all is good, she’s smaller than me anyway.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: there we go !! the long awaited finale to one of my first series. when i posted the first part, it was my first time writing reader insert smut and now i'm a shameless slut on here. certified ballslut/sackslut! so that proves you can do anything if you just try, or fall down a rabbit hole of word porn and spend hours a day writing some yourself. but hey, i'm not complaining, i love it here.

𝐒��𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! did you know that daddy Chris Evans is the sexiest man alive?

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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