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#I’m tired and this is all I could think of
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baby finn series, babysitting and date nights
series list - house divided - bedtime stories - sneaking onto stream
lando norris x mom!wife!reader
summary - uncle carlos comes over to babysit finn as you and your husband enjoy a night out. 
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when lando had finally turned the latch of the lock to your shared home, he let out an exhausted sigh. he had been in the sim all day with a long road ahead of him in order to secure a win. he was drained. he had been there the entire day, missing dinner and almost missing bedtime. all he wanted was to hug his young son, kiss his beautiful wife, and take a long hot shower. the universe, however, had other plans. 
opening the door, lando was met with baby finn running circles around you in nothing but his diaper. you locked eyes with your husband and he could feel the exhaustion that you were exhibiting, too. finn wasn’t being bad, he was just being a kid. he had loads of energy that you and lando could usually keep up with in high spirits, but, work had been kicking both of your asses. you were both burning out.
“finn, honey, please it’s time for your bath,” you let out a sigh, bringing your hand up to brush the hair out of your face. lando walks over to assess the situation fully, bringing your tired body into his arms for a hug. you slump against him as he kisses your forehead and locks eyes with his son.
“finn. bath. now,” your husband puts his foot down and your son happily runs towards the bathroom, not grasping the exhaustion or irritation of his parents - thankfully. one thing neither of you ever did was push your problems onto your son, and you never wanted to. 
“thank you, i’ll head in there in a min-” you begin but your husband cuts you off with a kiss. 
“no, we agreed you’d take the morning, i’ll take bedtime. i’ve got this,” lando replies with a swipe to your bum. 
“but you look tired, love-”
“so do you. it’s alright, who knows? maybe finn’s innocent energy will rub off on me, eh?” you chuckle at his question and wordlessly nod before he continues, “go get ready for bed, i’ll call you right in,” one more smack to your bum and lando is heading into the bathroom to start his son’s nightly routine as you follow his polite orders to take care of yourself. 
around a half hour later, lando is calling you into finn’s room for a cuddle and a tuck into bed. as you arrive, you can see finn slowly losing his energy cuddled into your husband’s arms, letting out a yawn. 
“is my sweet boy tired?” you question towards your son, seeing lando nod his head yes as finn lets go of a quiet ‘so much mommy’. 
“i think he had a case of the late night zoomies,” lando lets out a laugh as he gently sets his son into bed, proceeding to get him comfortable under the blankets. you both then lean down, kissing his forehead, wishing him a good night's sleep, and reminding him you’d see him in the morning. after the lights are off and the door cracked a bit open, lando leads you down the hall towards your bedroom with a firm hand on your lower back. 
you collapse onto the bed in a huff once you enter, leading your husband to quietly laugh at you - still cautious of the sleepy boy down the hall. 
“i’m heading to shower, love. care to join?” lando offers with eyes wide and smile even larger. you grant him a feverish nod and begin to follow behind him eagerly as he giggles. 
once you were both stripped and into the steamy shower, lando’s body slumped against yours, his back being attacked by the hot water and his head resting on your shoulder. you run your hand gently through his wet curls as he lets out a deep sigh. 
“wanna talk about it?” you whisper into his hair. lando shakes his head and mumbles into your shoulder, “could you repeat that, love?” you giggle, shaking your shoulder a bit to move lando’s face out of your neck and into your view. his hands grip your waist as yours are guided to rest on either side of his face.
“i just want to relax, we haven’t had a day just us to relax, i miss my wife,”
“i miss you too but that’s the life of parents, lan. maybe if you had pulled out three year-”
“alright, alright,” he exclaims, “you don’t need to harp on my pullout game for me to get the picture” he laughs while reaching behind you to grab some body wash. 
“i do agree we need a small break, though,” you sigh, “work has been draining me, i don’t want it to affect finn,”
“ya know who’s in town next week, love?” lando’s eyes sparkle as he asks, prompting you to laugh and let out a shake of your head, urging him to continue, “carlos,”
-
“okay, bud. uncle los will be here very soon, do you remember what we talked about?” lando is on one knee, bent at your son’s level and looking oh so fine. his black button up with most of the top buttons loose, the dark pants to go with it and the chains dangling from his neck already had you worked up, but the adorable nature of his fatherhood? now that’s hot. 
“yes, daddy,” your son replies, you can tell he’s attempting to hold in his excitement as much as he can as he is almost vibrating due to his little bursts of energy. 
“can you tell me again, bubs?” lando holds onto his son’s hands, searching his eyes at an attempt to really have finn understand the importance. 
“um, say pwease and tank you!”
“very good, what else?”
“be nice,”
“good, bubs, anything else?”
“do what uncle los say?” finn adds his last answer with an unsure smile as he eyes his dad with a tilted head. lando chuckles at his son’s cuteness and kisses his head, nodding in confirmation for your son to listen to his babysitter for the night. 
“and help him out, baby. if he needs anything, okay?” you add on, making your entrance in the room known. lando looks over to you and it seems as if his heart stopped, but it hadn’t. if anything it was beating so fast it could've flown out of his chest. standing up from his position on the ground, he makes his way over to you, mouth agape, eyes raking your figure, and head slowly shaking left to right. 
“you look…” your husband drinks in your appearance again, eyes scanning you from head to toe, “absolutely breathtaking,” he finishes off, his right hand coming over to hold his heart. 
“thank you, my love,” you giggle a bit, stepping to him in order to plant a kiss to his cheek, “you clean up pretty nice, too,” you shoot him a wink, walking past him and towards your son. 
“thanks for walking away, dear. this view is much better,” lando lets out a chuckle, eyes not daring to drift from your ass, until your head swivels - and he catches your smile.
“anytime, baby,” you laugh at his antics, leading him on as you bend over to grab your son, slower than usual. you hear a deep groan come from lando but before anymore comments were made, the doorbell rang throughout the home. finn drops from your arms, beginning his race to the door. 
“finn! wait until i open the door!” lando shouts, jogging over to where your toddler was attempting to reach the handle. 
“i big like you dada! i do it!” finn jumps again, trying with all his little might to reach the handle. lando comes behind him, scooping him up from behind and holding him near the handle and lock. 
“alright, go ahead big boy,” lando urges his son to open the door, and when he does, his excited shrieks are all that fill the house. 
“UNCLE LOS!” finn has wiggled out of his fathers’ grasp and already launched himself into carlos’ arms. 
“hola, pequeño,” the ferrari driver lets out with a chuckle. 
“i so excited you here!” finn is squirming up and down in carlos’ arms as the adults all just laugh at the adorable kid. lando pulls him out of carlos’ arms for one more brief chat about his behavior as you hand carlos the important babysitting list. 
“basically, it's all the numbers you don’t already have, like fewtrell and i think my mom, and then his schedule is here,” you continue briefing carlos as lando begins to stand and make his way back to you, “you don’t have to be too strict about this, just have fun,” you assure carlos at the end of the run through. 
“i’ve got it, you guys have fun. finn and i sure will,” carlos begins to usher you two out the door, a hyper-active three year old seemingly glued to his leg.
“call if you need anything, and i mean anything,” lando emphasizes to his friend.
“lando. it will be fine, you muppet. go enjoy your night with your wife, i’m going to catch up with mi amigo, finn, here,” at this point he is pushing you and your husband out the door and you both laugh at the door shutting in your faces. lando extends his arm for you to hold with a ‘m’lady’, and you both make your way to the restaurant. 
-
at the restaurant, the maître d' guides you to your table and lando proceeds to pull out the chair for you to take your seat. both now seated, he begin to ask what drinks to begin with, lando responding with his and you responding with ‘just a water, please’. walking away to fulfill your orders, lando spares you an odd glance.
“it’s our night off, love. you didn’t want to get a drink?” 
“no, just a water will do it for me,” you respond quick, your husband still eyeing you with oddity, “im glad we’re doing this,” you continue, reaching across the table to hold his hand in yours. 
“me too, a night just to ourselves was very needed,” he lets out with a smile. 
“i just hope our boy isn’t causing too much chaos at home,” you sigh, the waiter coming over to take your orders and drop off your drinks. lando just mumbles a ‘they’ll be fine’ almost to assure himself before placing his order. 
-
“vroom! vroom!” finn squeaks out on the floor, rolling his red ferrari cars around the living room. carlos joins in with a laugh, proceeding to hold his own decorated sainz55 car - finn’s most prized possession - and run it around their make-shift track. he quickly pulls out his phone to capture the moment and ease the parents minds.
“finn, look here! it’s for mommy and daddy, smile!” carlos instructs the little boy. finn looks up, letting out a huge smile and giggle, before crawling into the ferrari drivers lap. one more picture - a selfie this time - of finn clinging onto carlos’ neck, and carlos hits a quick send to his friends. 
-
“here, honey,” lando pulls his phone out and sends it your way in order for you to also see the adorable array of photos your babysitter had sent. 
“well aren’t they having fun?” you place a hand over your heart as you speak, too in awe of the little chubby cheeked smile staring back at you. 
“this was a grand idea,” your husband reiterates, putting his phone away into his pocket after typing a response back. you both share a look and a smile, before continuing your previous conversation and finishing your food. 
-
making it home a little past finn’s bedtime, you both didn’t know what you would walk into. bedtime was finn’s only struggle, therefore him being awake when you arrived home wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for what both you and your husband expect. 
except, when you walk in, your house is clean, quiet, and calm. carlos stands from the couch in order to greet the both of you, while you’re both scrambling to pick your jaws off the floor. 
“i’m assuming it went well?” you ask with a laugh while carlos brings you into a light hug.
“si, finn was a gentlemen. he passed out on the couch by seven and i just carried him into his room after that,” you and lando share a look of disbelief before carlos continues, “we played with some cars, ate some dinner, watched a movie, and he went down really easily,”
“can you move in?” lando pops the question into the conversation as carlos laughs off the request, “i’m serious, sainz,” your husband pushes again.
“did you two enjoy your night?” the ferrari driver ignores his friends jokes, directing his attention to you.
“we did, thank you so much for this, carlos,” you respond with a smile, “we really appreciate it,”
carlos gives you another hug goodbye and you begin to make your way towards finn’s room to check on him as lando walks carlos out, continuing his pestering of ‘how did you do it, mate?’ and ‘you don’t understand he hates bedtime’. 
you stand in the doorway of your son’s room for some time, admiring the sleepy boy all cozy under his racecar blankets. feeling a hand on your waist, you turn and catch your husband in a kiss. 
“let’s go to bed, love,” he offers once you break apart. you give him a silent nod, and you both make your way into your bedroom - lando stealing one last glance at your son. 
walking into your bedroom, you discard your heels and begin to unzip your dress.
“ah, ah,” lando stops your movements, replacing your hands on the zipper with his own, “allow me,” you giggle a bit as he continues to unzip your dress, letting it pool onto the floor. he pulls your back into him and begins to pepper your skin with sweet and sensual kisses as you blush in his hold, “we still need to make baby number two,” he mumbles into your skin while continuing his kisses. your body stiffens, lando feeling and understanding the tension releases your body and turns you to face him.
“what is it, y/n? do you not want another baby anymore?” he asks quietly, as if he’s scared of your answer.
“no, no. it’s not that,” you reply, head hanging down to stare at your feet.
“then what is it?” lando cups your chin in his hands with his question, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“it’s just that,” you sigh, searching lando’s eyes, “we don’t need to keep trying, if there’s already a baby on the way,”
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luveline · 2 days
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Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3
i love u!! fem!reader, 1k
You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 
“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 
Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 
“No,” you force out in a mumble. 
“Are you sure?” 
It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 
“I might be,” you decide. 
Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 
“Do you?” you ask. 
“What?” 
“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 
“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 
“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 
He glares for show. “So serious.” 
“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 
Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 
You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 
Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 
“Makes you sad?”
He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 
You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 
“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 
You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 
“How do you feel?” he asks. 
“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 
“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 
“I’m fine.” 
He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 
“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 
“I’ll be okay soon.” 
“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 
You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 
“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 
“I know.” 
Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 
“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 
He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 
He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 
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Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.
I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.
This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)
My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.
But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.
So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.
My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.
My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.
I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)
It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.
After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.
My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)
I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.
I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.
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b14augrana · 2 days
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‘Nervous’ — Lucy Bronze
(see pt. 1 here)
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Summary: You find yourself sitting next to Lucy on the team bus during the ride to your first match after an interesting first impression.
Warnings: Teen reader so no smut and also not proofread xx
A/N: This was requested!! Sorry it took ages for me to write this second part, it’s been a hard week for Barça fans 🫤. Bear with me guys but this is kinda short 🤦‍♀️!! I’m making up for it with a part 2 of my Ona fic if anyone cares heh… 😅
Meditating. The only way you could possibly shake off the nerves of your first game... if that was even possible. What was a big deal to most players was an even bigger deal for you. Not because it was a special match of any sort, but because you felt like you had something to prove, y'know, being 17 and all. Being young, underestimated, and in some eyes, unreliable.
That all led you to sitting cross-legged on your bed, meditating and almost losing your breath completely trying to hold it and calm yourself down. You couldn't tell if it was actually calming you down or just getting you closer to losing consciousness, so you stopped shortly after.
The team bonding sleepover you had with your new teammates had flown by, and before you knew it, it was 6 something in the morning and you were calling a taxi to take you back to La Masia, your bags slung on your arms and weighing your already tired body down. That was a couple days ago, and now you weren't as groggy and you had retrieved the t-shirt you left at Aitana's house.
You liked it though. You got to know the girls and you definitely bonded. You just could not stop thinking about Lucy.
She was cocky, and she was attractive — that was probably the worst combination. What made it even worse was that she knew she was attractive.
It wasn't just the way she talked, but the way she sat with her legs spread and her arms splayed along the couch, the way the muscles in her forearm slightly flexed with every slight movement, the way she smiled. The way she was very, very well aware of the effect her actions had on you.
"Muchaha, vamos!" said a voice from the hall of the dormitories which you could only recognise as Ona. She peered around your door frame, rolling her eyes. "Are you gonna move or keep sitting there? We've got a bus to get on!"
"Shit, I forgot about that. Lo siento," you replied, snatching up your gear and almost tripping on your way out. You stumbled down the hallway and down the stairs, exiting the academy complex to be faced with the huge team bus. It was staggering to realise how big it actually was, and you were glued to the spot in shock for a moment before a firm tug on your wrist snapped you out of your trance and dragged you onto the bus.
At first glance, it looked like there weren't any seats at all. "Where are you gonna–" you started, but then you were cut off. "Looks like someone saved you a seat, Ona remarked.
You looked at her, your eyebrows knitted in confusion, and they tightened when she dashed to the back of the bus and slumped next to Aitana. You threw your hands up and shook your head in further confusion.
She pointed to the only other vacant seat, and their simultaneously mischievous winks didn't make sense until you looked over to where they were pointing.
Lucy was looking at you with a smirk, and beside her was an empty seat. Your eyes widened as you glared at Aitana and Ona, pleading and begging with your eyes for them not to make you sit next to her. They had obviously picked up on your behaviour around Lucy, because they pretended not to notice you, leaving you with no other option but to sit next to Lucy. Her smirk was far from welcoming, and it actually irritated you as you threw your bag into the overhead luggage compartment and sat down, crossing your arms.
"What's wrong, (Y/N)? Did I do something?" she jeered, whispering in your ear. "Cut it out, Lucy," you snapped back.
"Hey, this isn't my fault. You're the one that's all frustrated for no reason about sitting next to me when I’ve done nothing," she replied, laughing at your behaviour.
"You’re too pretty to be scowling like that. Gives you wrinkles," Lucy continued, looking over at you with that same smirk that you just wanted to slap off her face. That same smirk that drove you crazy in more ways than just one. You couldn’t tell if it was just her personality, or if she deliberately did these things to get under your skin. Either way, that’s what was happening.
"Whatever. Thanks, I guess," you mumbled, not being able to help the warmth in your cheeks. You knew it was wrong, because you were 17, she was God knows how old, but you couldn't help whatever it was that made you want her despite wanting to hate her so badly. It was a contradiction you couldn't escape, one that would seem to trouble you until you were 18.
It was irritating to be so bothered and nervous by the woman beside you who could do nothing and still make your breath hitch. Ona and Aitana were probably having a field day in the back of the bus as they watched you struggle, knowing exactly why you were behaving the way you were; because you were attracted to the Englishwoman. You knew it came with being a teenager, but having desires about a certain someone was the last thing you needed on this day specifically, let alone every other day that you’d have to spend with her because it was inevitable.
“¡Mírala! Obviously she likes it,” Aitana whispered to the other Spaniard on her left.
Ona snorted and replied in a hushed voice, “Ni siquiera es mucho más joven, pero aún así sería ilegal. ¡No queremos que Lucy vaya a la cárcel!”
They tried to stifle their laughs as they watched you sneak not-so-discreet glances at the woman beside you. Their attempt was successful for the most part, because you and Lucy didn’t hear, but Patri did, and she gave Ona and Aitana a suspicious glare.
You weren’t paying attention to them — you were too busy distracting yourself by counting down the minutes until you arrived in València… and also the days until your 18th birthday. For no specific reason.
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Text
R&R
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Pairing: Cassian x Reader
Summary: Cassian was tired and you were taking forever to get your ass back home.
Word count: 1k
Warnings: nothing! fluff <3
a/n: A little drabble as I ignore my homework.
~~
Cassian was tired. 
He felt it in his bones and the cracks of his skin.
Dirt was ingrained in every crevice of his leathers, dusting out as he shucked the articles to the ground and stepped into the steaming bath. Training didn’t usually take this much out of him, but there were a host of recruits that he needed to train, all so eager to be part of the troops after the victorious War with Hybern. 
All eager but so, so inept.  
And then you weren’t home when he got here, which pissed him off. 
All he could think about during the hours of training drills and conditioning and corrections was coming home to you, pressing his face into your neck, and falling asleep to the warmth of your skin. He had sent a spark down the bond when he started his journey home, which—to him—was a request for you to come home as well. 
You did not. 
Cassian dried himself off and threw on the closest pair of cotton pants he could find, falling into bed with a huff. 
Ridiculous. 
He was in bed and he was alone. 
He covered his eyes with the bulk of his arm. 
He’d sleep then. Fine. 
Only he couldn’t sleep. The bed smelled like you and he tugged at the bond again. This time, you actually did offer him a reply, and Cassian wanted to drown in the warmth you sent through his chest. 
Where the hell were you?
He flipped onto his stomach and shoved his face into a pillow. He should be able to sleep without you there. He was Illyrian; he had slept in far worse conditions. On rocks, in a tree, standing up against war-torn buildings—Cassian could sleep anywhere at any time. But then he met you and he fell in love with you and you weren’t getting your ass home fast enough.
Cauldron help him if you ever decided to go on vacation. 
Mor had tried something like that when you were freshly mated, posing a girl's trip to you and Feyre. That idea hadn’t gone far.
It had been more about sex and lust and being so enamored by you that he couldn’t breathe back then. Right now he just wanted to get some damn sleep. 
The bedroom door clicked open and unrelenting joy washed away the irritation he was harboring for you. Because how could he be irritated when you came into the room all soft and smiley and bright? Upon further contemplation, Cassian decided that no, he wasn’t ever irritated at you, actually. 
“Hi, Cass,” you called, the sound muting the headache that had begun to form behind the general’s eyes. “How were the recruits? Are they ready to charge into battle?”
You flitted about the room, taking off your coat and setting your bags down and not paying attention to him at all. Cassian fought the urge to tackle you onto the bed just to get you to stop moving. He couldn’t even get a good look at you like this, and he hadn’t seen you all day. He left before you woke up. 
“Yeah maybe in a few years,” Cassian grumbled, following you with his eyes as you started cleaning up the damn room. “C’mere, sweetheart.” 
“I will in just a moment. This place is a mess. You got dirt everywhere, did you know that?” 
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up later, just come here.” 
You tsked and ignored him. Cassian cursed at the ceiling.
“I was out with Mor earlier and we stopped by Nyx's school to surprise him,” you giggled, grabbing a stupid broom. “He was adorable, of course. He painted you and Az for one of his projects in art. You’ll have to see it when he brings it home. I swear, Cass, he is just hmph—” 
The broom clattered to the floor, forgotten along with the dirt that lined the wood. Your cheeks were encased by Cassian’s hands as he kissed you, and he ran one back to entangle it with your hair. Gods, you smelled good, like strawberries or apples or whatever fruity perfume you were trying while you were out shopping. Cassian deepened the kiss and relished in the surprised sound you made. 
“You didn’t even kiss me when you came in,” he practically pouted, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Or look at me.” 
You gripped at his biceps to keep yourself upright, his body pressed so closely to yours. “I didn’t mean to,” you whispered. 
“I know.” He nudged your nose with his. “Lay down with me.” 
“But the floor—” 
“Lay down with me,” he repeated.
A brief pause, a small nod; right now, it took very little to make Cassian so inexplicably happy. 
He gathered you in his arms the moment your body hit the sheets, burying his face in your neck like he was supposed to do about thirty minutes ago. And then you ran your fingers across his scalp and Cassian decided he was dead. There was no other explanation for this type of bliss. 
“Did you have a bad day?” you asked softly. 
“Day was fine. Long, but fine,” he grumbled, pulling you tighter, pressing his lips to your skin. 
You hummed. “Then why couldn’t I clean the room?” 
“Because I’m tired and you were over there.” 
“Not seeing the correlation, my love.” 
Tire was weighing heavy on Cassian’s mind. His body relaxed even more into the bed as his hands ran down the length of your body. 
“I need to hold you to fall asleep,” he replied as if it were obvious. Because it was. 
“Oh.” 
He grunted out a confirmation.
“Well, I’m not exactly ready for bed yet and I told Rhys—” 
“I love you,” Cassian interrupted. “Please stop talking.” 
And then Cassian was no longer pissed or annoyed or tired because nothing was out of place. Sleep found him quickly.
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puckinghischier · 1 day
Text
Tattoos Together
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: based off of the song tattoos together by lauv
notes: this idea was way better in my head, but i still think it’s cute and turned out alright. i’m obsessed with this song and knew i just had to write a nico fic based off of it asap. also, i know the timeline is all over the place bc nico is captain in this, and holtzy and dawson are here, but it technically takes place after jack’s rookie season. the beauty of fiction is that literally nothing is real, so let’s just all pretend everything is normal and chronologically correct 😊. hope you enjoy!! :)
[2.7k]
~
Summer was your favorite season for a number of reasons. First of all, you loved the warm weather. Being able to sit outside and soak up the sunshine was something your body desperately craved during the bitter New Jersey winters. You also loved the overall happiness of the general population that seemed to radiate during the summer months. Your favorite reason, however, was the fact that your best friends were always available to do whatever you wanted them to, because hockey isn’t played in the summer.
You hated that the Devils didn’t make the playoffs this year. You were as devastated as they were during that last game of the season, but you can’t lie and say you weren’t also ecstatic. You knew, the moment they lost the game that eliminated them from any sort of play off position, you were going to get a summer full of sun and fun at the lake house.
You had decided to take the warm season off from any internships or courses, not wanting anything to come in-between you and nearly four, uninterrupted months with your boys at the lake. You had decided to transfer to a college in Jersey so you could spend more time with Jack, not so you could stay in a strange city while all of your friends go to your favorite place on earth.
This year was especially exciting, considering Jack had convinced a group of his teammates to join in on the summer antics. Your anticipation for the warmer weather to arrive was only heightened once you learned a certain hockey captain would also be in attendance at the lake house.
You had been drawn to Nico from the first moment you met him after Jack’s rookie debut. Jack was so eager to introduce the two of you. He had made quick friends with the Swiss player after his arrival in the garden state and he wanted nothing more than his oldest and newest friend to meet one another and hit it off. Nico gave short, but kind, responses when Jack called you over to speak to him outside of the locker room; you assumed he was just tired and wanted to get home, but once you had seen him leaning against the wall in a crowded bar a few hours later, you made it your mission to make a friend out of the quiet hockey player.
You found yourself enjoying his conversation a little too much, basically neglecting Jack on his big night. The two of you talked about anything and everything. Nico had been in the middle of a story about his siblings back home when you suddenly realized the danger you were in. You hadn’t even been around this man for more than a few hours, and you could feel yourself falling for him. His kind eyes, the deep dimples when he smiled, and the care and attention he showed every single person that came up to congratulate him on the win, while also never failing to listen to your stories and stay engaged in the conversation with you, was making you spiral in the best way.
You knew you couldn’t go there, though. He was a big shot hockey captain, and you were only here for school. With the team’s busy schedule, you didn’t know when you would see him again. As soon as the light feeling in your chest had appeared, you forced it to make its exit. You couldn’t fall for him. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for him.
Over the next few months, however, you found yourself in Nico’s presence more often than not. Any team event that Jack dragged you to, you always found your way to where Nico was, striking up innocent, friendly conversation. If you were attending a home game at the Prudential Center, you were always cheering for Nico anytime he made a particularly important or skillful play. When he would come over to yours and Jack’s shared apartment, you always had some excuse for needing to be in the kitchen when they were, or passing through the living room and then planting yourself on the couch between the two ‘out of boredom’.
Nico wasn’t making it easy for you, either. Anytime the captain would score on the ice, it was you he was pointing towards during his celebration (or sending a text to ask if you were watching as soon as he was in the locker room for intermission, if it was an away game). If he had plans with Jack he would always send you a message, inviting you to tag along. Nico had even memorized your class schedule and your coffee order, bringing you your caffeine fix on lecture mornings when he would pick Jack up for morning skate. You found yourself talking to Nico almost more than you spoke to Jack, finding it harder and harder to keep your promise to yourself.
Jack could sense the underlying feelings you had for his captain, being able to pick up on all of your tells from the many years of friendship. He saw the way your gaze would immediately start sweeping any room you entered until it settled on Nico. He pretended not to notice the way you would always come out of your room on the mornings Nico was coming by before practice, hair and make-up already done, sitting in the kitchen to ‘work on homework’ before your lectures. He noticed when you bought his captain’s jersey, alternating between the 13 and 86 jerseys every other game. He noticed the way you would instantly perk up at the mention of Nico’s name in any conversation.
Jack also noticed the way Nico tried, and failed, to hide the feelings he had for you, as well. He noticed the way Nico would skate out for warm-ups and look around the glass until he saw you, waiting a few minutes before he made his way over to the glass where you were standing, pretending to be surprised when he turned around and found you behind him. Jack noticed the way Nico suddenly wanted to always come over to his apartment instead of Jack going to what the team refers to as the ‘captain’s quarters’. He noticed the way Nico would always come back with your favorite cocktail in hand anytime you were with them on a night out.
The back and forth between you and Nico continued for months, neither one of you ever taking the next step to admit feelings for one another. Jack wished the two of you would just get it over with at this point, the inevitable apparent to everyone but yourselves. So, when Jack opened the lake house invitation to Nico, Alex, and Dawson this summer, he can’t lie and say he didn’t have some ulterior motives.
Now, as you and Nico walked ahead of everyone else, lost in your own little world, he knew he made the right decision.
You had just eaten dinner, Jack having made reservations at a local seafood place he was dying to take everyone to, when you announced you wanted ice cream. You had suggested the small ice cream shop a short walk from the restaurant, wanting to stay out in the small lake town a little bit longer. You had sat next to Nico at dinner, staying in your own conversation most of the meal, being brought into the larger conversation happening around you only if either of your names were mentioned. The conversation followed the two of you outside, talking about his upcoming trip home.
“So, when are you leaving this utopia?” You asked him, shoulders bumping as you walked on the sidewalk beside him, a car driving by, causing your sundress to ruffle and flow in the passing wind.
“Not until the end of the month. Why? Can’t wait to get rid of me?” he responds with a playful smile, putting his hand on your back, pushing you over to the inside of the sidewalk, placing himself closest to the active road beside of you.
“Not even close,” you link your pinky with his, a habit you’ve gotten into anytime you’re walking beside him. “Dreading the day, actually. This is your first summer here, and you don’t even get to experience the best part!”
“I thought the best part was that you were here?” he references the statement you made when trying to convince him to make the trip to Michigan for the summer.
“Well, the next best part,” you respond, waving off his words. “You’re going to miss the boat parade on the Fourth of July!”
“A…boat parade?” Nico questions.
“Yes! A boat parade! Everyone decorates their boats and then drives them around the lake. Everyone here goes crazy for it. People don’t spare a single expense when it comes to boat decorations. One family even paid those statue street performers to play Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty on their boat on year,” you explain, earning a laugh from Nico.
“Why do I have the feeling you would have done that if you thought of it first?” he asks in-between chuckles.
“Because I would’ve! I was so mad that I didn’t even think of it. The only year we haven’t won it. Well, other than the years we haven’t been able to make it up here,” you shrug, thinking of all the time you’ve missed out on in the past few years.
“Well, you’ll have to come up with something even crazier this year. To make up for all the lost time,” Nico squeezes your pinkies closer together, knowing how much you hate the summers you can’t come here. “Look, you could go get a tattoo of the American flag, or something. Decorate your body, not just your boat. Really commemorate the summer,” he points to the tattoo shop you’re walking past, laughing at the craziness of the idea.
Maybe it was the heat finally getting to you. Maybe it was all the lake water you had swallowed the past few weeks. Or maybe it was the build-up of the months worth of feelings you’ve had for the man in front of you, but something in you made you say “Let’s go do it.”
“What?” Nico stopped in his tracks, looking over at you like you had three heads.
“I said let’s do it,” you said again, a serious look on your face.
“As in let’s go let you get a tattoo of the American Flag?” he asked again, confirming the idea forming in your brain.
“Yes. Well, I mean no. But yes,” you start, letting go of his pinky you were still holding on to. “I mean, let’s go get tattoos to commemorate the summer, like you said.”
“Like…right now?”
“Yes, right now. Why not? It’ll be fun. At the very least it’ll be a story to tell one day,” you try to convince him, acting as if this isn’t the most out of character thing you could suggest.
“I mean, what would we even get?” Nico asks, the word ‘no’ never coming out of his mouth.
“I don’t know, whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Or anywhere where everyone will see it. It can just be something we know we have, y’know?” you continue to try to convince him.
“Hey! Why’d you two stop? The ice cream shop is another block down.” Jack asks as the rest of the group approaches the two of you.
“Y/N is trying to convince me to go get a tattoo with her right now,” Nico tells everyone, earning a collection of shocked faces.
“You two? Getting matching tattoos?” Dawson asks, looking between the two of you.
“They don’t have to be completely matching. Just something to make us thinks of this moment. This summer,” you explain. “We could all get one, actually. As a group!”
“You’re out of your mind if you think any of us are getting tattoos right now,” Jack speaks up, not scared to call you out on your stupid ideas.
“I don’t think it’s that crazy of an idea. It could be fun,” Nico surprises everyone.
“Cap, are you serious? You’re thinking about going and getting a tattoo right now?” Alex questions.
“I’ve been thinking about getting another one for awhile now, so why not right now? Like she said, it’s a good summer memory, Holtzy” Nico shrugs, sounding like he’s made up his mind.
“Of course you would agree to get a matching tattoo with her. You guys are practically attached at the hip anyways,” Dawson says, causing both you and Nico to flush a light shade of pink. “You guys go have your fun, get matching tattoos, but we’ll be eating ice cream, loving the taste of no regrets,” Dawson gives up the fight.
“Just…don’t get each other’s names on your foreheads,” Jack says, shaking his head as he walks away.
Dawson and Alex follow Jack, grumbling about how they can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. Alex slides in a “at least ask her on a date first, cap” as he walks away, Nico praying you didn’t hear the comment.
You turn towards Nico, holding your hand out. “You ready?”
He takes your hand, letting you pull him into the tattoo shop’s open door. “Let’s go get tattoos together.”
An hour later, you and Nico walked out with two fresh wounds on your ankles.
Both of your tattoos were so small you truly had to look for them to notice them. You had ended up getting tattoos that were technically matching, but could have meaning on their own, too. The artist had laid out a bunch of stencils she had ready to go, letting you pick from the pile which ones you wanted. You had found a small heart with devil horns, pointing it out to Nico and jokingly suggested he get it to show his Devils heritage. At almost the exact same time, his eyes landed on a small heart with a halo over it, his eyes lighting up.
He had agreed to get the devil one only if you got the matching angel one. So, twenty minutes later, the stencils were placed and you both sat on the table as two different artists tattooed you simultaneously.
The rest of your small group teased the two of you about it for the rest of the summer. After Nico left at the end of that month, the conversation shifted from teasing about the tattoos, to teasing about when the two of you were finally going to admit your feelings to each other. You waved off their words, sticking to your explanation of you two being just friends, but they didn’t let you forget that, in their words, you ‘basically branded’ their captain.
When Nico arrived home, Nina immediately clocked the small tattoo on her brother’s leg, questioning him about it. He told her it was just a last-minute decision, something to do after the season was over, not wanting to hear any nagging about how irresponsible it was that he let a girl he was even dating talk him into getting a matching tattoo. But, when Nina saw your Instagram post at the end of the summer, the very last picture showcasing a small, familiar looking angel tattoo, she barged into Nico’s bedroom, demanding answers.
“Nico, you better explain to me what the hell is going on here, because last time we spoke you hadn’t even told her you have feelings for her yet,” Nina interrogated Nico in their native language.
“Yeah…well that hasn’t really changed. Just…haven’t found the chance yet,” he avoids talking about the tattoo, choosing to talk about the other half of her question.
“Well after this, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she moves back home after she graduates next year and just leaves me behind?” Nico voices his fears to his older sister.
“Nico, she asked you to get matching tattoos. There’s no way she doesn’t feel the same way as you. I haven’t even fully met the girl, only having talked to her on your facetime calls, and I can see that she’s head over heels for you,” Nina encourages Nico, causing a warm feeling in his chest at his sister’s words.
“Well, when you put it that way…” Nico trails off, thinking about the events of this summer in full. “You know what, you’re right. As soon as I get home, I’m telling her. What’s the harm? And if she doesn’t have feelings for me, well, at least we’ll always have tattoos together.”
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paigebueckersmommy · 19 hours
Text
just tired - p.b
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paige bueckers x reader
requested by anon (kinda)
warnings: ed! , mental health issues, passing out
if you or anyone you know is struggling with an ed, don’t be afraid to reach out for help and my messages are open ❤️
you didn’t know what it was but recently you had been struggling a lot recently and didn’t know why. you had the worlds best girlfriend, and the best friends that you could ask for.
recently you found yourself looking at the back of food packaging, and always being tired.
the past 4 times you went to paige’s dorm you fell asleep almost instantly, which wasn’t normal for you. paige knew about your past with ed your freshman year, and was always checking in but things didn’t start getting bad for you till recently. paige had taken you on a vacation for your 2 year anniversary and you got insecure when you put on a swimsuit for the first time in months.
you were at paige’s dorm, laying in her bed with paige next to you eating a bag of goldfish. “baby do you want some?” paige said. “uh no i’m fine i had something before i came.” you say with uncertainty in your voice knowing that you wouldn’t be able to look at the food label without paige seeing. “are you okay princess? you’ve said that the past couple times you’ve been here when i’ve offered you food and your always falling asleep. i’m getting worried”paige said siting up and looking at you. “P, i promise im fine. “ you say pressing a kiss to her lips.
the next day
it was 7pm, and you were at the gym for the 2nd time that day. you were running on the treadmill watching the ‘cals. burned’ part of the screen go up when you got in incoming facetime call from paige. knowing she would freak out if she knew you were there for the 2nd time, you ran into the bathroom and into the stall at the end before picking up. you answer the phone, out of breath. “hi baby! i was wonder- ma where are you?” paige said with confusion. “oh uh- i’m at the gym.” you say knowing you couldn’t keep anything from paige. “baby didn’t you go this morning before your first class?” paige says.
“y-yea but i had some extra time on my hands tonight.” you say with shaky breath. “okay. as long as your eating 3 meals a day baby.” paige says with a sincere voice. “anyway i was wondering segue you get home if i could come over. i need to study and kk is being so loud playing fortnite… i also miss you.” you smile. “yea paige that’s fine ill be home in like 30 minutes.” you lie. you would be home in 15.
when you get home you shower, feeling faint. you change into sweats as you are cold despite taking a hot shower. you brush your hair and start walking into the living room when-
you pass out.
paige’s pov:
i jiggle my keys into her apartment door when i walk in and she’s on the floor of her living room. i immediately drop all my stuff, rushing next to her side. i start nudging and shaking her with panic, “baby wake up it’s me paige please baby,” i say as i feel a tear form and not long after i feel it fall.
readers pov:
i feel myself being shaken. was i asleep? did i fall asleep on my floor? “baby please wake up,” i hear paige say as i start to comprehend the things happening. “paige what happened,” you say, fluttering your eyes. “baby i think you passed out are you okay? why haven’t you been eating.” paige says as you notice that’s she’s crying.
“baby please talk to me. i’ve been worrried by you a lot recently.” paige helps you up as you both sit on your couch. “i-i don’t know. it’s just that i feel like my body isn’t good enough i need to lose weight.”
paige looks at you. “baby. your the most perfect girl i’ve ever met. every part of you, your personality, your body, your face, anything. you don’t have to change anything about you baby your already perfect.”
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Note
Can you do something with Logan that is super angsty? Maybe you two get in a fight over his career and your career? Then both of you realize that you can live without each other and end up getting back together.
Thank you!!
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I can’t live without you — Logan Sargent x reader
“I can’t do this anymore Logan,” you said, cramming your clothes into your suitcase.
“Do what? What’s going on?” Logan asked
“Stand by and watch as Williams destroys your career” you said.
“Williams isn’t destroying my career, what are you talking about?” Logan says slightly, raising his voice.
“Yea they are Logan but you're so blinded by your loyalty to the team you can’t see it” you yelled through the tears.
“Wait a minute, you can’t leave!”
“Yes, I can” you said, your voice steady but tears were flowing down your face. “I can’t do this anymore”
“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” Logan yelled as you went to slam the door shut, but Logan grabbed the door and stopped it.
“That team is destroying you Logan, it's taking its toll on your mental health. you can’t keep putting yourself through this” you said, as you put a hand on Logan’s arm.
“Williams doesn’t care about you. They used your signing as a PR move to bring in more American formula one fans and you're too blind to see that” you tell him.
“Don’t say that! Williams cares about me! They brought me in, they believed in me!”
“That’s just what they want you to believe. They’re using you…I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. I know you're going to stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean you left a team that loved you and cared about you, and now you're throwing it away for a team that's going to drag you through the mud.”
“Stop. Stop saying those things.” Logan said harshly. “I’m not throwing anything away. My loyalty to Williams is what’s been pushing me to do my best and not make a mistake.”
“Keep telling yourself that Logan” you say finally leaving the hotel room.
“No, wait!” Logan yelled into the hallway as you shut the door. You kept walking and didn’t turn around.
“Damnit!” Logan yelled.
“She’ll come back, she’ll come to see that it’s all going to be okay.” Logan muttered to himself.
Hours later, Logan was sitting in front of his laptop in the dark looking at old pictures of them together.
A photo of you two, looking happy came into view.
“Maybe loyalty isn’t the most important thing?” He whispered to himself.
A few weeks have gone by since the Australian Grand Prix since the night you left Logan alone in the hotel room. Logan’s home race was coming up and he wasn’t going to lie he was nervous as all get out.
Logan missed you and he realized that you were right about the team. They didn’t care about him, not like you had. Fans started noticing that Logan was looking more tired and exhausted than before the bags under his had darkened. They looked so dark that it looked like he had black eyes.
Logan’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, from stress, from working nonstop to show the team what he was made of. He looked so worn out, and it was breaking your heart. You knew that he was pushing himself too hard, and it was beginning to take a toll on his mental health, and you just wanted to be there to support him.
The race weekend was approaching, and he was still working late into the night, trying to perfect his setup. Logan’s exhaustion was beginning to show, he looked like a shell of himself. He had lost weight, and his eyes were dark and sunken. The fan base was starting to get worried about him.
You weren’t doing much better yourself. You were worried sick about him, every day. You’d lost weight, you could barely sleep because all you did was worry and think about him.
Your friends tried to comfort you, but you weren’t listening to anyone, you were focused on one thing, on getting him back.
You would spend all night and day looking for flight deals online, trying to find a way to get home and see him again. But every time you looked, they were all sold out. It felt like the universe was against you, but really it just wanted you to wait a little bit longer, to wait until the right time to reunite you.
You would constantly check the calendar, seeing how many days there were left before you could get on a flight and see him again.
Time was passing so slowly, and it felt like it was never going to end. But then finally, the day came when your flight was confirmed, and you were on your way back.
You were just hours away from seeing him again, but the feeling of relief and anxiety were equally strong. You knew you wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of you was scared of what he would say, or that he might have moved on.
You landed in the US, and you could barely contain your emotions, you were nervous and excited, and a million other things at the same time, as you got to your car. You just wanted to get to the hotel and see him as soon as possible, but at the end of the day, you also wanted to get it right, to do this the right way.
Your stomach was in knots as you pulled into the hotel, and you felt your heart racing. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, you couldn't believe you were actually back in the US.
You took a deep breath, and walked through the doors into the hotel, up to his room.
You stopped in front of the room, taking a moment to collect yourself before knocking on the door.
After what felt like an eternity, he opened the door. Logan’s face had gone pale, and the stress and exhaustion that had been weighing on him disappeared.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, his mouth was dry, and he could barely get the words out.
“I had to see you, I had to come back” you replied, trying to get the words out.
He opened the door wider, inviting you in, you slowly walked past him, and he could feel the tension in the air.
“I’ve missed you” Logan whispered, his heart began to beat faster and faster, he was overcome with emotion, and he pulled you into a tight embrace.
“I’ve missed you too” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and burying your head into his chest.
He pulls you even closer to him, not letting you go.
The air felt thick between the two of you, neither wanted to break the embrace, neither wanted to talk, neither wanted anything more than to feel close to each other again.
Finally, after a long moment, he broke the embrace and stepped back, wiping his eyes, he had almost cried right then and there.
“I’m-I’m so sorry” he said, unable to stop the words from pouring out.
“For what? “ You asked, you had no idea what he was apologizing for. All you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms again.
“I know I’ve been distant recently, and I haven’t been there for you” he said, taking your hands in his. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face.
“I just…” he began, but choked up, unable to find the right words. His lips trembled, his face twisted in regret and guilt.
“Just what?” You asked gently, trying to understand what was going on.
“You were right, my loyalty to the team has taken everything from me”. He said, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears.
“What do you mean?” You asked, he was starting to not make sense, was he just tired, it must be that, because you had no idea where this was coming from.
“You were right about the team, you said that they didn’t care about me, that they were using me as a PR move. And I tried to deny it, I tried to deny everything you said, but it’s all true…”
“I’ve pushed myself to the point of mental exhaustion, and all for what, I’ve been so blind thinking that I needed to do this, but the truth is I don’t, I don’t need Williams, I need you…” He said, staring back at you.
“Do you need me?” You said, his words caught you off guard. The reality was hitting you, he needed you, he didn’t need the team. He needed you.
“Without you, I’m lost” he said finally, admitting it out loud, he took a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried about losing Williams, and I should have been worried about losing you.”
“I need you Logan , I've missed you so much” you said, tears now spilling down your face.
“I’ve missed you too” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. You could feel the tension in the air subside, and the stress that had been weighing on you both disappeared. It felt almost as if you’d never been apart.
His grip tightened around you, not wanting to let you go, like he needed to hold you just a little bit longer. You could feel him taking deep breaths and his heartbeat steady. It was like he needed the two of you to be as close as possible for a minute, as if he needed to make up for lost time.
“I’m never letting you leave again” he said softly, tightening his grip once again. You could feel his heart rate settle, and you could feel the tension ease even greater. It felt like home.
@a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @jinx53 @jeffs77 @toasttt11 @hrts4scarr @faithshouseofchaos @vellicora
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kiss-inthekitchen · 14 hours
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favorite insomniac | spencer reid
a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words
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You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 
Obviously not great. But not insomnia.
You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 
Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 
You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 
And then you give up. 
There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 
“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 
Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 
“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 
“I can’t sleep?” 
His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 
You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 
“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 
“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 
“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 
“That’s nice.” 
“Am I wrong?” 
“No, you’re not wrong.” 
You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 
“What did you call me for then?” 
Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.
“Wanna go for a drive?”
Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 
“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”
“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 
He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 
“Now you tell me.” 
“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”
“You're what?!"
"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.
"Now? You have a car?” 
“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”
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gojoath · 2 days
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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ NEVER HAVE I EVER, OKKOTSU YŪTA
a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you.
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summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. exhibitonism. alcohol mention. jealousy / possessiveness. toxic relationships. never have i ever. talk of past relationships. wc, 9.2k.
note. another repost for the series :)
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the air is warm around you as you sway in the living room, surrounded by intoxicated friends and strangers with red plastic cups in their hands and loud music blasting through the halls of the house.
you’d sat your empty drink down a while ago and hadn’t had a moment to refill for yourself yet, so instead you stay empty handed— although you feel pretty much occupied in your company.
you’re here with your boyfriend, yuuta, and his friends as you stand around with a few of the other people you’re not sure you recognise from his class. but you listen politely, not really absorbing the information as you let your eyes wander the room. although you’re quickly brought back with the press of cold fingertips beneath the hem of your t-shirt, before it’s accompanied by a slow breath exhaled against your throat from behind.
your boyfriend was always particularly clingy in these sort of environments, attached to your side like an extra limb or at this moment, wrapped around you from behind— much like the blanket you’d tuck yourself under every night. the only difference being you’re not comfortable in your own bed and your boyfriend, yuuta, had a certain aura, an energy about him. it was the sort of chill that made goosebumps burst along someone’s skin whenever they’d lock eyes with him across the room, the kind that urged people to look away before that happened — to avoid looking at you before he caught them.
it was like a curse of sorts.
“are you okay?” yuuta asks gently as you feel the cool brush of his fingertips brush higher, smoothing along your waist, his touch is cold as always but it soothes the warm press of your own skin as he leans forward. you feel his lips smear across your cheek as he speaks, almost a kiss — like he’s asking, hoping for one.
“mhm, ‘m good,” you turn to meet him, shuddering beneath the heat of his gaze despite the way warm was never really a word that came to mind whenever you looked at him. haunting, chilling, even unsettling maybe— but the type of look that made you not want to look away. like when the naive, pretty girl in the slasher movie thinks it’s a better idea to go towards the source of a sound in her usually empty, dark apartment than leave entirely.. to safety.
if only you knew those seconds, half-seconds that the line of your gaze connected with his, were the only moments in the day that he felt anything at all.
“are you tired? we can leave if you want,” yuuta asks, almost expectantly, hoping you’d take him up on the offer to lock you back up in his apartment, all for him, away from prying eyes of drunken party goers— away from everyone else if you’d let him. he waits for your answer before he kisses you once and you always thought it was a little unexpected how touchy he could be in public, considering how apologetic and awkward he seemed when you first met.
as always, you feel yourself melt into the press of his lips, into the confidence he always kissed you with despite his demeanour and you’re suddenly warm beneath your collar as his fingers press higher— urging you closer as his tongue swipes along your lips. but before you can continue, to go further— you pull away, maybe a little too aware of the amount of eyes around you despite the way your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all,
“i’m okay, i’m having fun.” you feel his fingers squeeze tighter as you answer but he smiles,
“are you sure? we can—“
“sheesh, i haven’t seen you guys in forever. where the hell you been, hah?” your conversation is cut off by the slur of a familiar voice as it barrels towards you both through the crowds, urging their way between you so they can throw their arms across your shoulders, an arm for each as yuuta begrudgingly breaks away to stand at the other side.
“maki!” you giggle as your friend uses you to keep herself steady— both of you mostly held up by yuuta strength alone. “we’ve both been busy, yuuta’s especially—“
your words are meant innocently, more of a factual response rather than something somber but that alone seems to ignite the fiery spirit of your friend when she’s groaning as it slips off your tongue. suddenly she’s turning to your boyfriend with a tight frown on her features, an expression that he’d grown familiar to seeing— but it’s one he still manages to meet with a smile.
“oh yeah? i hope you’re taking care of my girl, yuuta.” maki growls and you watch the way he scratches at the back of his neck, the exchange reminds you of the stories she used to tell you about the first time they met in their second year. before he was able to stand on his own.
“huh?! i am, i am!” his voice is almost boyish as he responds and you find yourself smiling at the way yuuta seems to relax around people like maki and his other former classmates. you very rarely seen him interact with other people at all when you were together, it normally just being you two— by his choice, because he always said he didn’t like other people taking away his time with you. but you think it’s charming, the relationship he has with his friends and the way they playfully jab and tease him in a way that makes you giggle.
maki ruffles at his hair as she tsks and you think it’s amusing the way yuuta’s eyes are back on you when he notices the way you’re grinning. “you remember what you were like before i took you under my wing, i’m trustin’ you to protect her!” you’re pretty sure he could easily dodge her playful smacks against his chest, especially given the way the alcohol has probably impacted her precision. but you also think it’s nice that he chooses not to, watching him chuckle, maybe a little embarrassed at her words as he waves her off.
“come on, maki.. you know id kill anyone to protect the one i love,” yuuta’s blushing slightly but there’s no uncertainty in his words, instead it’s like you can hear the pure devotion that’s wrapped and woven itself around every syllable when it’s accompanied by the unwavering cut of his gaze.
but still, it doesn’t make maki falter the way it might anybody else— instead she shrugs as her arms unwind from you both to cross her chest. “yeah, yeah. i’ll leave you lovebirds, third wheeling ain’t my thing..” she groans again before she whips around to stumble backwards slightly— balanced again by your boyfriends quick reflexes as he steadies her with one hand. his free hand finds its place at your lower back as he takes a step closer to you again.
“you remember what i said, yuuta! take care of her or else,” you’re laughing, grateful to be able to have someone like maki in your life despite people who may find her to be a little rough around the edges. she was one of the best people you could have with you, you think. she offers you both a smug grin, thumb pointing against her chest as she backs into the crowd, “i’ll be the one to kill you if ya don’t!”
yuuta chuckles quietly as you both wave her off, watching her push her way through the wave of warm bodies that block her path so easily— with a power that was so uniquely maki.
another breath and he’s back on you, just the same as he was before as his body looms into you— draping over you like a shadow as his lips reach forward to smear along your cheeks again. just like before, you turn to meet him— twisting into another kiss that he meets so eagerly, greedily and you rasp softly as he traces across your skin with his finger. he was good at that sort of affection despite how binding it seemed.
“i..i mean it.” yuuta’s words are muffled slightly against your lips, almost drowned out by the music but they’re still so clear to you when they echo in his voice. although they urge you to pull away as you give him a naive blink,
“mean what?”
“what i said.” he answers quickly, like he’s desperate to get back to where you left off, “i’d kill for the one i love,” it’s almost misplaced, the kind smile on his features and the way his eyes soften slightly despite the way something cursed twists in his gaze— his words are spoken like a promise. it makes you feel suddenly cold despite the warm proximity and the stuffy room, too many bodies squeezed together but you catch a chill as you look up at your boyfriend over your shoulder.
“you say that but, isn’t that a little dramatic?” you turn in his hold, blinking up at him as your palms press flat into his chest and yuuta looks at you— intently, all adoring as his own hands loop around your waist to squeeze.
“no,” his voice sounds lower as he answers, chest pressed against yours and you wonder if he can feel the way his answer makes your heart jump slightly, maybe that’s why he clears his throat awkwardly as your gaze holds his. “n-no i don’t think so, because it’s for our love.” his tone feels unsteadier now, like when someone is quickly trying to explain a point, their views, before somebody can interrupt— he needs you to hear him justify his devotion.
“i don’t want you stolen from me, i dont want anyone else to take you away from me. so i’d kill them, so you’re happy with me.. forever.” yuuta’s arms squeeze tighter around you as he speaks, like he’s scared you’re going to break away, although something in your mind tells you that wouldn’t be possible even if you tried. still, he’s smiling— that same warm look that he’d greeted you with the first time you’d met in the supermarket. “that’s why, i’d kill them. i’d do it for you. for us.” the words roll from his lips so easily, like he’s convinced if they’re said in his soft, kind tone— meant with pure love, that it would take away the threatening effect,
despite the way it would make any normal person's blood run cold at the promise.
something tugs at the corner of your lips at the way you don’t take him seriously, your tone a resonant pull as your palms press into his chest through his shirt, “nobody is going to take me away from you, yuu.” he can feel the warmth of your hands on his skin despite the layer between you both.
“i know. i wouldnt let them.” yuuta leans in again, to steal another kiss— to take what’s rightfully his but you don’t twist and curl into him like you normally do. you pull away, and all he can feel is the coolness against his chest where your fingers had been before you tug him towards the couch, pushed into the corner of the room.
“let’s take a seat.”
the next few hours at the party pass by fairly quickly and your boyfriend is closer than ever to you as your thighs rest over his own, his fingers fidgeting and pressing into your skin between kisses and staggered breaths. it makes you feel like a teenager again, steamy makeout sessions on the couch at a party between giggles, but you feel more comfortable now— leaning into him, hidden away in the corner rather than stood in the middle of the room as his tongue binds with yours.
every kiss with yuuta felt messy but purposeful, his hold on you was strong and his mouth was hot— pressing into you, pushing his name between your lips as his cold fingers hook around the back of your neck to squeeze and you melt, everytime he does it, with every exhale he breathes into you.
you’re so lost in eachother you barely notice the way the seats surrounding you begin to fill up quickly, the drunken party-goers lured into the living room as panda and maki act as ring leaders. the booming sound of their voices draws back you and your boyfriends attention, although his eyes remain on you.
you listen intently, albeit a little kiss drunk and drowsy as you press into yuuta— you hear the never have i ever name being dropped and you know immediately what’s happening, finding a giddy smile pulling at your lips at the nostalgia that follows along with the title. you’re familiar with it ofcourse, familiar with the giggles and secrets that the game always seemed to spill— it reminded you of younger times, but you think it’ll be exciting now as maki gives you a wink before pushing the half-full beer in her hand in your direction.
“come on, you’re playing right? can’t do it empty-handed.” she falls down on the other side of the couch next to you as panda stays in his place in the middle of the floor. you feel yuuta nose at your cheek as he explains the rules, urging you for another kiss— to turn back now that he’s acquired an even bigger audience to claim you infront of. but you don’t budge, so he relents as his fingers squeeze at your waist.
“are you playing? i thought you’d want to go home instead, it’s late.” he tries again, another last ditch effort to get you home as it goes over your head. he accompanies the question with the captivating pull of his hands as he squeezes at you from where you’re almost sat on his lap.
another press of his lips and you’re smiling, “yeah, i love this game! you’ve never played?” you reply like it’s obvious and you don’t see the flash of disappointment flash across yuuta’s features because he smiles too. he leans into you slightly,
“w-what are the rules?” suddenly he’s more than eager, albeit in his own awkward way. it’s only normal for your boyfriend to want to know everything about your other loves— apart from him ofcourse. his eyes are on you as you as he asks, gazing up at you like he’s mapping out your features. like he hasn’t memorised them already.
“listen, panda’s explaining them.” and yuuta does, he listens to the game rules while his hands squeeze into your skin, he misses the taste of your lips already— wishes he could have them again. the rules are simple to follow, but he thinks maybe it’ll be his chance to let everyone see the things you both have done together— all of the different ways he’s claimed you, taken you as his own over and over again.
“ah, i don’t have a drink.”
“we can share.” you say it so softly, without hesitation and it makes him feel warm— drawing him in until he’s kissing once at the corner of your lips and squeezing you even closer into his side as he knocks his forehead against your temple softly.
“okay.”
the game starts out innocently enough; never have i ever told a lie, snuck out of my house— but then as you expect, as always it morphs into something a little spicier; never have i ever fucked someone in my childhood bed, fucked on a boat, eaten whipped cream from someone else’s bodyand with every question, every press of your lips to the beer as you take a drink, you feel yuuta fidget uncomfortably at your side as his gaze cuts into you.
he doesn’t remember this, because it wasn’t him on the other side of these experiences— looking down at you as you lapped at the cream on his body or wrapped up in the comforter of your childhood bed. it should’ve been him, he should’ve been the only one to touch you, to feel you, it wasn’t fair that people have taken what’s his— that they’d taken advantage of you, knowing he wasn’t there to protect you. it wasn’t fair. it hurts. why won’t you look at him.
his hands ball so tightly you can see the tendons, even in the low light. the keen edge of his jealousy was like flint, a spark away from fire.
“baby? we didn’t do that.” the words were expressionless, they carried no hint of anything you could read. you know you hadn’t went over your past relationships with eachother. but he’s looking at you like you’ve burned him, betrayed him as his words hiss from between his teeth— just loud enough to be spoken to you only when you finally turn to meet him. his gaze feels empty, but he blinks up at you like he’s begging you to put him at ease— you’re lying, right?
to yuuta, you were his everything— his only, was it wrong for him to expect the same level of respect, of loyalty from you? hadnt you been waiting for him to find you, to loveyou. it’s cruel, that’s why he’d told you— he’d promised to kill anyone who’d try to break you apart, he should’ve warned you that the promise extends even more to the people who’ve seen, felt you before him. who’ve stolen what’s rightfully his.
“oh, never have i ever hooked up in gojo-sensei’s classroom?” you shift at that, yuuta feels it— picks up on the way it’s accompanied by the same reaction from the other side of the room and his low-lidded gaze, his instincts follow that movement until it locks on its owner.
kamo noritoshi, they were in the same year at school— albeit noritoshi attended the kyoto campus but they’d met a few times. normally at the good-will festival — yuuta had never found him to be too impressive, the years that he’d participated he remembers beating him, single-handedly— if you could call it that. maybe he should’ve hit him harder, had you already met before that day? because now he’s looking at you, looking at what’s his with such a heat in his gaze that makes something boil dangerously beneath his skin.
suddenly, there was an ache in him, like a rotted tooth. but this doesn’t mean anything not yet, so yuuta presses closer— his eyes are back on you and he watches you, like he’s waiting. like he’s hoping, you wouldn’t hurt him like that, right? 
you feel your cheeks burn significantly when your hand twitches, almost in sync with noritoshi’s at the other end of the room as you go to knock back the remaining liquid at the bottom of your cup. it earns you a few hoots and whistles from the surrounding ex-students, your friends— but just as you feel the plastic cup press to your lips, your movement goes no further before it’s stopped by a cool, tight press of something that wraps around your wrist. almost like a plea.
“please, don’t.” your pulse jumps, for a reason that you don’t know when you turn to the source of the voice, the source of the vice grip that’s coiled it’s way around your hand. yuuta has looked at you a thousand times, but theres something different in his gaze, an intensity that you’re not familiar with. your mouth feels dry and you can hear the sound of your throat as you swallow.
“it’s not fair.” his voice was cool, but you see his jaw tighten, just a little. “you didn’t tell me.”
his face twists and almost, you think you see anger and your nerves seem like they sing with the danger of it. you almost reach for him, to soothe him, to reassure him before it can go further but your fingers rest in the air where they reach with his next look. instead, yuuta rises, giving the room a sorry smile before he’s excusing himself—
“ah, sorry— i gotta go to the bathroom.” something tugs at you with his words, just beneath your skin.
“hah? what the hell?” maki calls after him and noritoshi is looking at you both now despite the way your boyfriend pushes into the hallway suddenly. he can sense the shift in the atmosphere and you notice the uncomfortable shift in his form as he seems to sink deeper into the couch. you feel warm under your clothes suddenly, embarrassed— guilty? you’re not sure, but it’s almost immediate the way you find your body pushing up to follow.
you’re driven by the obedience, the love he’s knowingly buried into you.
“i’m gonna go check on him.” you echo a few seconds later, you’re deliberately avoiding the eyes at the other end of the room but you still manage to meet maki’s before you’re turning to leave. she gives you an almost knowing look despite the way her face stays neutral.
“hey!” panda calls but maki cuts him off as she groans, like she’s trying to save face.. for both your sake.
“agh, leave ‘em— get onto the next one, will ya!”
yuuta feels like he’s in a daze as he stalks down the hallway, he didn’t realise you’d known the kyoto students like that— known him like that without him even picking up on it. he’d let him live with those memories, he wonders if he still thinks about you? the press of your soft skin beneath his palms, how far had you gotten? what desk had you used? had he sat at it previously? studied at it? his chest rises and falls rapidly, like its trying to keep pace with his thoughts.
it’s like all of the work he’s done has been erased, your schedule he’s memorised— the people he’s steered from you, the relationships he’s ruined, not knowing that noritoshi was right there. knowing the face you make when your mind is thick with pleasure, was he able to satisfy you the way your boyfriend does? does he still remember how tight your walls squeeze as you cum?
the bathroom door closes behind him and yuuta breathes heavy as his forehead rests against the cool wood. he feels like he’s losing his mind, his progress, his facade. but he listens, he recognises the footsteps that sound a few seconds later and he smiles.
“yuuta?” your voice calls as you push yourself down the hallway, you hope he hasn’t left yet— the idea makes something pulse in your chest, something ache in the space between your ribs because you don’t see the signs, you’re blind to them when it comes to his love.
another step and you can still hear the party raging on in the room you just left, although the hallway is eerily quiet. the floorboards squeak as you go to pass the bathroom and suddenly— you’re moving, pulled forcefully into the room so quickly that you don’t even hear the door open and you go to scream, you almost do.
the movement is so fast it steals the air from you, takes it forcefully from your lungs and it’s almost instinctive the way your arms raise to push at his chest, to push him away. until you realise that the person stood across from you now, was the one you were looking for in the first place. but the door is slammed behind you and now it’s just you two in the stuffy party bathroom. you look at him, there’s something different looking back. you can barely speak.
“sorry, did that scare you?” there was something uneasy about the silence that settles between you both; like a held breath, like the rabbit beneath the hawks shadow and you can feel your pulse striking your skin. the deep blue of his eyes seem to seep into you, to fill your throat to choking. you couldn’t cry out even if you dared too.
“but you came. i knew you would” a tightness he hadn’t noticed was there in his chest— eased a little, he wouldn’t lose you yet. his voice is sweet despite the carnal look he’s giving you, his eyes seem darker in this lighting.
“i thought you left.” finally you speak and your voice rises warm and resonant, sweetly pure. would you have been upset if he did? you would’ve left with him though, wouldn’t you? not that he was ever too far away, not from you, not ever.
“not without you,” he steps forward and something burns hot in you, an impatience, a certainty. like he’s telling you he’s about to have exactly what he wants, you’re about to give it to him. but something in his demeanour makes you step back, to press yourself against the door until he’s over you— caging you there, claiming you like trapped prey. the heat rises up your neck, his fingers wrap over your face and you can smell nothing but him as he curls over you. the push of his lips seem only a second away from pressing into yours. “i’d never leave you.”
“yuuta, what was that back there?” your stomach trembles and a warm drop of pleasure spreads beneath your skin. why do you want more still? you press your palms against his chest.
“i beat him once.” you can’t move, watching. you almost don’t breathe. his face is calm and blank, not tensed with effort like the strain of his voice would suggest but then his words settle and the room grows quiet again despite the music through the door behind you. it feels stuffy, you’re trembling. are you scared? “at the good-will festival.”
he eyes you for a reaction, “did you love him?” the sudden swoop of your stomach, his unsettlingly quiet anger. you were like a fish eyeing the hook.
“yuuta ofcourse i didn’t.”
“baby, i didn’t like it,” your stomach rolls, awash with nerves and relief at once. you drink him in, there’s hurt in his gaze— his bangs fall slightly over his eyes when your own hold them. “i couldn’t think..” his teeth grit and he exhales before he continues, voice returning to something sweet. like his mask slipped, even if only for a moment. “i couldn’t think about you with him,”
“the way he was looking at you.” he goes on and you rasp softly as he draws his fingertips along your jaw before he squeezes, the press of the promise ring on his finger is cold,
“you’re mine. all of you. do you remember?” his voice was warm with desire, you feel it heat across your skin. the strength of your lust, the speed in which it flowers, shocks you. you can’t breathe now but you don’t struggle, any normal person would run— would be able to see the red flags, the warning signs that are so hard to miss but you don’t. not with yuuta, not when he’s staring at you— when he’s already caught you like a wolf with the rabbit's neck between his teeth. “that’s what you said. you promised.” he strokes you with his left hand and your hips lift to the touch, you pull him closer and you tremble.
“i’m yours,” your mouth opens underneath him and the warmth of his throat pours into yours. you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but drink him in, each breath as it came, the needy movements of his lips before his tongue follows.
it’s desperate, messy— yuuta’s claiming you like a dog. the kiss is full of teeth as he grabs at you, presses you even tighter into the door behind you as his body pushes flush against your own until your lungs quiver.
he’d normally much prefer to take you home into the comfort of your own bedroom, so he can take his time with you— pull out as many orgasms as he wants, the ones he owns without interruption. but now, he wants the whole party to know who you belong to, who’s name you moan when you cum and cream and he’ll make sure the walls remember it too. everything he does, he does for you. can’t you see that?
“i-i’m sorry, i can’t wait.” yuuta groans, exhales warm against your lips and you grab at him, your hands are in his hair to pull and he drools into the kiss— sucking at your tongue and pressing his already hard cock against the intimate skin between your thighs. “i.. i need you, baby. please.. give me what’s mine.” his words are a hormone-drunken plea and you’re hooked, drinking them up intoxicatingly— you’d let him ruin you if he asked if that same kind tone. like he hasnt already, for anyone else that is.
“i want you, yuuta. c-cant wait either.” it’s a strong pull as he moves you, but not disorientating, yet you still feel your skin burn hot where his long fingers are pressing through the thin fabric of your clothes. the fabric feels like it moulds even closer to the shape of your figure—almost like there’s nothing between his palm and your skin. he turns you both, almost stumbling across the already small bathroom, but he keeps you upright, stepping back without breaking his lips from yours until you’re pressed against the ceramic sink on the counter in the corner.
“he needs to know,” yuuta pulls away to breath deep, his palms resting against your cheeks, drawing his fingertips along them as he looks at you. “i need to know. to know it’s love.”
“i love you, i love you more than anyone.” he hums and you gasp when he finally kisses you again, cutting off your sentence before it’s replaced with a breathless exhale and he takes the opportunity to dip his tongue past your lips, allowing it to glide along your own as he tastes you.
it’s almost desperate, the way you’re pulling him closer — giving into his thoughts, his own fogged mind, you found yuuta’s devotion to be charming especially when it was coated in pretty words and compliments. he had you bending to his will, playing the part of the perfect girlfriend that he knew you’d be. you only needed him to complete you, to push you in the right direction, to love you.
you feel a coiling pleasure that’s been building tighten delightfully and his hand squeezing your waist only makes it burn brighter. you whimper against his lips and the sound drives him closer, practically pinning you against the small countertop that holds the sink behind you both until it’s squeezing against the back of your thighs.
“you’re so pretty, so warm.” yuuta groans and the deep drone of his voice curls down your spine, you can’t pull yourself away from him—not that it was even a possibility, with the way his strong grip keeps you in your place against his chest. his palms explore the topography of your hips, down your waist and up your thighs from where he’s pinning you onto the surface beneath you. he’s grabbing at you, pulling at your bones like he’ll rip you from your skin— dig through to your heart to have you, to consume you, devour you entirely and bury his love in the deepest parts that remain.
“hurry, please—” you plead against his mouth, breathing heavy with him and he feels sticky at the words, spoken against his lips. he feels his cock twitch and thicken behind his pants, he’s leaking already— heart racing from your touch alone, the kisses aswell. his thumb squeezes into your skin before he’s licking into your mouth; burying soft groans into your throat like they’re honeyed secrets and he’s losing himself in the dizzy spin of the room.
“say it first, for me.” yuuta grunts, almost begs and the kiss breaks wet as he stands tall, taps on the back of your thighs to help hoist you up onto the counter top before you jump eagerly and he’s slotting himself between them. he presses into the heat between your thighs as he almost stutters deeper, he wants nothing more than to sink into you completely.
but his relaxed bangs fall messy over his eyes with his next exhale, low-lidded and convincing. the dark glint in his eyes almost has you in a trance. “i love you, yuuta. have all of me. take it.”
your fingers tangle in his hair once more and yuuta can’t help but continue kissing you when you give him what he wants, what he needs. the hem of your skirt slinks up with his wrists, slender digits squeezing at the fat and muscle it reveals as his hands stroke up your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your legs spread around him and his fingers are trailing closer to where he needs to be most.
it happens so fast, it’s so desperate when you feel him push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed. he drags the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit as he rolls the sensitive bud and you twitch, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt before the wet disconnect of his lips from yours has you whimpering softly.
the pretty sounds you make for him still make him burn.
“you’re so wet. so soft. d-does it feel good?“ yuuta hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, like he knows what you’re gonna say before you even do— he does, because he knows you best, every part of you, every response and twitch. but you nod cutely and he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, almost whimpering when he’s not met with much resistance.
his fingers are long and you hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy when you watch him fall onto his knees between your thighs hungrily. “did he make you feel this good?” he shifts one over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, you know who he means when he gazes up at you from under his lashes. you shake your head almost frantically, panting, you can’t risk him stopping.
“its okay, i forgive you,” yuuta whispers and the words pour over your folds, “because it’s mine now. the sooner you forget about everyone else, the better. they’re not good for you, i’ll give you lots of love, i promise.” he angles his fingers inside of you up with angled purpose, like he’s showing off his knowledge of your body, of the reactions he can pull out of you so easily. but there’s some truth to his words now, he’d intentionally broken you that way— now even the press of your own fingers long to be replaced with his own.
he brushes them against the spongy spot inside of you until you’re slapping your palm over your pouty lips in a sorry attempt to muffle how needy you sound. but that won’t do, not when he’s got a point to prove— what’s histo claim, he needs everyone to hear it. who owns you, who loves you, who’d kill for you.
“don’t do that. i need to hear you, please.” yuuta’s warm breath rolls over your slick folds, it’s a second his eyes break from your own, transfixed and low-lidded with hunger as he watches his digits sink into you. until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up, he’s watching you again when your lips part to moan and it makes his cock twitch.
it’s languid the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, but he licks at the space between your folds like he’s starving— his movements thick with hunger and lust as he gives you another look. one that makes something sharp nip at your spine. you’re not embarrassed at how loud you’re being now because he told you it’s fine, it’s hisafterall— it’s what he wants, needs, so it would be rude of you to keep that from him, what’s his— when he’s being so good for you.
the pretty sounds from your lips curl against the small walls of the bathroom and you can still hear the deep bass, the giggles and laughs from the living room despite the lewd squelching from between your thighs, drowned out with yuuta’s slurps and smacks that are currently even louder. if someone were to pass by, they’d know what was going on— who it was considering the mantra of his name that you’re repeating like a prayer. like he’s your god despite the way he’s the one worshipping you.
he continues to sink his fingers into you, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a wet mess between your thighs as he laps it back up and buries his face into you with a loud swallow. every noise is so much messier than the one before, echoing from his chest while your hands grab and curl in the dark roots of his hair to pull. just how he likes, the pain makes his insides almost curl, tremble and shake. he needs more.
yuuta licks into your pussy and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you shake against the counter top. you feel him flatten his tongue against your sensitive clit before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and suckling until butterflies pool in your stomach.
“who are you thinking of?” your pussy throbs around his fingers and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin. your eyes clench tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his dark gaze cuts up into you. you feel him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side. like you’re chasing the friction, begging for him. your actions almost answer the question itself.
“you,” your head lolls forward, but your words don’t falter— your certainty makes something burst warm along the back of yuuta’s neck as he looks up at you. he couldn’t help it, he had to check— had to make sure that you weren’t thinking of someone else as your boyfriend fucked you. it should be only him, always.
“do you promise?” he asks again, just to be sure and you blink— head rolling back when he brushes his fingers against the gummy, sensitive spot inside of you and you squeeze, cry for him.
“yes! i p-promise,”
“that’s good. you’re close, i can feel it.” yuuta tells you, purrs against your folds as he works you with practiced precision. his eyes are still on you despite the way your hips twist under his touch but his body leaves you suddenly and he pulls away to break through the suddenly suffocating layers of his clothes.
“s-sorry, i need to feel you around me. i need it. all of it.” a ragged sound leaves you at his words, as he begs to feel you and it has you feeling drowsy and pliant despite the orgasm he’s ripped from you so cruelly. he quickly reveals the soft planes of his ivory skin, shoving his slacks down just enough for his cock to spring out and smear precum along the skin of your thighs as he draws closer.
yuuta really was gorgeous in his own way, dark hair messy where it falls over his face, his hand sweeping it back before he’s stepping forward and shooting you a lidded, almost sleepy look. it was like another side to him, one that he kept hidden away— like a body under the stairs or a secret. but he’s flushed to the tips of his ears despite the shadows that pool in the depth of his gaze, and you suddenly feel like you can’t get enough air with each breath.
his dark eyes pull like the tide, no matter how you swim against it.
“yuuta, i want to cum.” his smile grows, almost giddy and sweet with how much you want him— the way you rely on him to make you feel good. the way you purr his name and grab at his skin, is this how you act for him alone? but his whole body trembles when your fingers reach forward to wrap around the base of his cock, a plea— you’re beggingfor him and who is he to deny you of that.
he’s all you’ll ever need, this moment was proof enough. will you let him keep you all to himself? you’d make a pretty centrepiece in his bedroom— locked away in there forever.
“i know, baby. you need me for that, remember? i told you.” you won’t be able to love anyone but me. you feel yuuta grab you in a strong grip before he’s wrapping your thighs around his hips, but any other words are choked upon when the head of his cock finally finds your flexing cunt.
you both gasp as he sinks carefully up inside you, his hands squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his as your back arches. his cock sinks into you slowly despite the need in his movements, it’s like he’s savouring the sweet pull of your body and your cunt, like he’s being lured to his demise by a siren— a succubus. he’d follow you anywhere, he’d wait for you in hell. the length of him curves upwards and feels warm inside of you, gliding so sweetly past the spots along your walls that make your whole body twitch, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.
“you’re always s-so tight.” yuuta’s cool fingers grope just a little too hard at your hips, dragging you along his cock as he forces your walls to spread open for him and he feels something ache deep in his stomach. his desire is heavy in each laboured breath he takes as he tries to keep a firm grip on his composure— albeit it seems to slip with every saccharine squeeze of your thighs and cunt around him. but his eyes remain on you. “always.” the squeeze is like his own little reminder that nobody has touched you since he did last either. he always liked to check. to be sure.
you can only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out. but you only seems to draw him closer, pulling him into you so he can drool and smear more kisses along your features— like the way a dog would appreciate its owner. mark you in his scent. cover you in it, he’d bury you between his ribs.
you’re both sweating hard but yuuta stills feels cold, his touch soothes your overheating skin and it lights a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better. “yuuta, please move!” he feels his toes and fingers curl when you bear down on him eagerly, greedy for it, eager for more of his love. the love that he’s more than willing to pour into you, even if you choke on it.
“s-sorry,” he finally pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you and your pussy squeezes down tight on him in response, like it’s trying to lure him back inside, keep him forever. you’re tightening around each inch you lose as his fingers dig bruises into your hips and he rolls them back into you, beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.
he wants you louder, messier— all his.
a whimper leaves you when you feel yuuta’s head dip towards yours, his body leaning over you to smear a few more kisses along your jawline. he’s working your hips to meet the encouraging pull of his hands from where they’re messaging, squeezing your skin with his bruising grip and you drink it up eagerly.
the pace he’s sent isn’t fast, albeit not helped by the cramped space and the way he doesn’t want to hurt you, but the drive behind each thrust still remains— he’ll make love to you anywhere. always. he can’t be close enough to you, something in his bones wills him closer and he can’t look away— he wants your eyes on him, your heart in his hands, all of you bare. your soul. your entirety.
your body claps against yuuta’s as he kisses over your skin, teeth nipping at your neck hungrily, but determined to leave marks before his lips are gliding along the sensitive spots that have you twitching.
“y-you’re squeezing me, it feels so good. so p-perfect.” he looks at you again, emphasising his words with a few sharp thrusts, before his pace inevitably speeds up, he’s gripping so tight into your skin that he’ll surely leave bruises— he hopes he does. your hips press almost painfully into the cool countertop behind you but he’s bending your body like you’re clay between his palms. he can’t stop, you won’t let him.
“yuu— fuck, faster.“ you finally manage to respond, whispery and choked off, but you can’t deny the physical reaction you have to yuuta’s compliments, as always. your tight cunt bares down tight around him and you both gasp before his breaks off into something dreamier, his pace stuttering as follows it with a few slow, deep thrusts into your doughy pussy.
“i’d do anything for you.” he whispers, like a reminder smeared along your skin— he’d write it in blood if it would make you remember. “only for you.” and you bask in it, want to give back all that you can as he kisses along your face. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of your perfume that’s now mixed with his own scent and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach. “do you know that? everything is for y-you.” every twisted little scenario made to bring you closer. it’s all with your best interests in mind, to keep you with him.
yuuta repositions his feet and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your skin as his—leaving blooming marks between soft kisses along your neck and jawline.
it was always intoxicating to see him like this, to feel him so unfiltered and hungry, digging orgasms out of you like he’s starving— his sexual prowess still catches you off guard, no matter how many times you’ve had him like this. the positions he’s put you in— the places he’s taken you. a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble, as do your lungs like you’re looking over the edge of a cliff. you’re almost blind with pleasure.
“s-so pretty, so pretty.” yuuta tells you, his praise dripping through your rocking body and down your spine and it feels like he ignites something in you— something twisted and dark. he makes your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves. you’re past caring now— but he hopes they hear you. “i won’t let him touch you again. it’s not f-fair. you’re mine. i’d beat him again…. and again, and a-again.” he’s grunting, babbling, words lost and hidden between huffs of your name— pants as he breathes deep. you can barely hear him.
your nails dig into his forearms, pressing as you arch your chest against his own— pushing closer, heart to heart, “g-gonna cum—“ you gasp, lips parting in a pretty o-shape as pleasured tears gather at the corners of your thick lashes. his gaze falters for a moment, from you to your creaming pussy then back to you, and he feels like the breath is punched from his lungs at how pretty you look lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. as always. he’ll never tire of the sight of you— the smell, your touch. he’d recognise you even in darkness.
“look at me, on me, b-baby. please” yuuta’s words slur, scratchy and growly, letting his fingers trace along your sweat slicken skin to roll your puffy clit as he continues to pound against the right spot inside of you. the ones he’s memorised, that only he knows. nobody else would have you like this, so fucked-out, so pliant. you listen, you blink up at him— gaze cloudy beneath your lashes but you’re looking at him and it makes his chest squeeze, burn.
you’re more than eager to give yourself up to him completely after a few more clapping thrusts, arching your back as you whine long and wordless for him. the hot rush of bliss and warmth settles over your skin when you cum, the fluttering press of your pussy throwing you into an orgasm so intense you see white behind your eyes.
“i love y-you, i love you.” yuuta purrs, his cock flexing and it doesn’t take him long before he’s giving in to the needy coax of your cunt and spilling thick and hot inside of you. a low whine rumbles low in his throat as his body curls over yours with a sharp groan—pinning you to the cool surface beneath you as the sink digs into your skin.
the room is now filled with nothing more than your ragged pants as you both try to catch breath, but his body blankets you, he’s still much too pre-occupied pressing kisses to your cheeks and mouth to notice the way you’re shaking beneath him.
“yuuta, come on.” you giggle a few seconds later as the haze in your mind clears, the sound of your laugh makes yuuta shudder— push even closer despite the way you’re wrestling to push him off. you finally separate, peel away from eachother— your faces puffy and half-bruised from kisses.
“are you ready to go home now?” your boyfriend calls soothingly as he massages at your skin, letting your feet dangle from the countertop as he kneads at the skin between your hip and thigh. his eyes are on you as he stares at you, a whisper of a kind smile on his lips.
“okay, yeah. i’m definitely tired now.” you laugh and yuuta’s eyes close with his next smile.
“i’ll stay over. so i know you’re safe.” he helps you to your feet as he brushes down your clothes before fixing his own, pulling your panties back over your pussy before his load can leak out. he likes knowing you’re holding him, full of him— although it makes something in his bones shake at the idea of people seeing him drip from between your thighs instead. maybe next time.
“yuuta you’ve stayed over every day this week.” your words jostle him slightly from his lewd thoughts, catching him off guard so much he almost can’t hide the pout your answer brings from him. you’re smiling, but your words almost feel like a rejection.
“is that bad? i miss you when you’re not there, i get worried.. incase something happens.” yuuta’s hand captures yours as he stares at you but you don’t say anything. “if i stayed forever.. it would be easier.. to protect you, then i’d never have to leave.” the expression you’re wearing is unreadable, not giving him the slightest hint of what you’re thinking and it makes him uneasy. are you leaving him? do you not want him by your side? after all of those times you’ve asked him to be with you forever? were those lies?
if only you knew you’d never been without him, even when he’s not there he is— always, watching, protecting. it’s not hard for him to get into your apartment. you make it soeasy.
“i’m sorry, too much? i just don’t want to leave you yet.” yuuta exhales, the space in his chest hurts. put him at ease. for love.
“n-no, no it’s fine. it’s cute. you can stay over.” your hand squeezes his as you go to reach for the door and he moves to let you go first— smiling down at you before the door opens and your lips part to gasp.
“huh? noritoshi?” you’re unaware of how long he’s been standing there but the flush on his cheeks and the sudden restriction in his pants would serve as proof enough if you weren’t already embarrassed. but you feel yuuta lean over you again, like how he was at the start of the night except his attention leaves you this time— his haunting gaze is focused on someone else. he’s like an animal making a show of claiming it’s mate infront of another.
“um…. sorry, were you waiting?” your words are quiet, the encounter is awkward to say the least but noritoshi clears his throat despite the way he’s deliberately looking anywhere but at the two of you.
“ah, no..” he starts, “you text me. you told me to come. i thought you may be in danger.” his phone is in his hand as he turns it to you and you’re there, your number— asking him to do just that.
“i…. didnt.” it doesn’t make sense, you don’t remember the last time you even had your phone, had you left it in the living room? was this meant as some sort of prank? but who would want noritoshi to hear you and yuuta? what sort of twisted prank was that.
“she has me. i’d protect her myself. that’s what pure love is.” yuuta finally speaks after a few moments of silence, his voice is lower than normal— not the sweet tone it takes when he speaks to you. his arms squeeze tight around your waist to pull you closer and you’re still too lost in thought to pick up on the tension between the two men in the hallway. noritoshi swallows thick and yuuta leans forward to press a kiss against your cheeks before he speaks, his gaze doesn’t budge from infront of him as he does.
“baby. we should go.” the petname is soft, back to his usual gentle tone and accompanied by the pull of his hands as he guides you back through the hallway, “excuse us.”
“yeah..” you’re confused— you’re not sure what’s happening as yuuta untangles himself from you to lead you away and suddenly you really are tired, ready to tuck yourself into bed and cuddle against your boyfriends chest. you need a well deserved shower considering how sweaty you feel underneath your clothes. but still, you can’t stop your mind from retracing your steps, you’ve not seen your phone since you got here, you remember texting maki— letting her know you’d arrived… that was the last text you sent… you didn’t bring a bag, had it fallen out of your pocket? you remember you were getting annoyed about holding it… you remember… your boyfriend… offering to keep it in his pocket.
you blink up at yuuta, but goosebumps seem to rise along the back of your neck when you notice he’s already looking back. he smiles, kind, before he squeezes at your intertwined palms as he leads you.
his hand still feels cold where it holds yours.
doesn’t it feel nice to have someone care about you so much? 
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seeingivy · 2 days
Text
sweet nothing
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting fic
previous part linked here
songs mentioned: minor mentions of slut by taylor swift, new year's day by taylor swift, end of beginning by djo, turning page by sleeping at last, sweet nothing by taylor swift, and must be love by laufey
--
It feels like every new piece of information that comes your way is overwhelming as the weeks fly by. And really, that sinking feeling that things are coming to an end only feels deeper, more final as the days dwindle down to the end. 
Jean and Mikasa are getting married in two days. Your last day of filming together as a cast is in three. Lana and Sukuna are having another kid and you’re almost positive that Eren is in love with you. 
You have two weeks together before you part ways. 
Every second that the group of you spent together felt like the moments were only slipping out of your fingers, like you were hopelessly trying to hold onto a needle in a stack of hay. It was almost impulsive the way you were trying to linger around everyone – to memorize every last detail of the memories so that you can’t forget them when they leave. 
Falco and Gabi eat cereal in the morning before they go to set, Levi has a mole near his left eye, Eren loses all of his guitar picks. 
You shuffle through the stack of polaroids in your hand – an endless stack of pictures of Miaksa and Jean – and get more frustrated looking down at the empty page on your notebook. Eren’s handwriting is perfectly lined up at the top, light scribbles of lyrics and words he’s changed for the song you were gifting Jean. 
I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?
Eren explained that Jean and Mikasa, after getting engaged (for the second time), took a two month trip where they just traveled together. Most of the pictures are from that time period actually – of Jean and Mikasa drunk in random bars, cheesing in front of billowing green hills, or napping on picnic blankets. 
You look up at the two of them, clearly relieving some wedding stress by getting tipsy, and dancing with Falco and Gabi a few feet away. You can’t help but smile as Mikasa teaches Falco how to dance – and how he profusely apologizes every time he steps on her feet. It’s almost as sweet as Gabi and Jean who are trying to do the most aggressive slow dance known to man and that neither of them seem to be taking seriously in the slightest. 
“Who’s getting injured first?” 
You look to your right to find Eren hovering over your shoulder, his hair damp from the shower and the sweet smell of his soap still emanating off of his skin. He gives you a boyish grin before taking the seat next to you on the couch, leaning his chin on your shoulder as you watch the group of them. 
“I’m sure Mikasa needs a bandaid already. Falco has stepped on her feet ten times already.” 
“Poor guy. I’ve never seen him stress out over something so bad.” Eren states. 
“What do you mean?” 
Eren laughs. 
“He’s freaking out about the wedding. He’s really worried that Gabi won’t enjoy it with him as her date – because he can’t dance and that sometimes he can’t think of things to talk about when he gets nervous.” 
You frown. 
“Baby.” 
“Tell me about it. Last night he was in my room asking my opinions on pick up lines and how you even initiate dancing with someone.” Eren states. 
“What did you tell him?” 
“I told him that he should suggest getting matching tattoos. I know girls love that type of thing.” 
You turn your head to glare at him. 
“I know you didn’t encourage my sixteen year old brother to get a tattoo.” 
Eren shrugs. 
“What’s the difference between sixteen and eighteen? He’s a big kid.” 
“He would get a tattoo of a cat jumping on a trampoline if he could. And that’s horrible advice.” 
Eren grins. 
“Worked on you, didn’t it?” 
You shove him in the side, earning you a laugh from him, as he takes the opportunity to peek down at the page – mainly at the fact that you haven't been able to write anything. You sink back into the couch as he offers you a smile, before flipping through the rest of the pages. 
“I have a question.” 
“What is it?”
“Are you ever going to release any of these songs? I really think some of them are great.” 
You lean over his shoulder to follow his line of vision, to all of the songs that you had produced out of the requests that you had been given. You eye the song he’s fixated on – called Slut, that you wrote for Sasha – as you shrug. 
“I do really like some of them.” you offer. 
“I really love this one. I think it’s perfect. And a lot of them are.” Eren adds. 
You lean back on the couch. 
“I know that…things are ending. And I have to think seriously about what I want to do after I leave here but sometimes it gets complicated when I think about it. But I am sure that...that I'll do something. In some capacity.” you state. 
Eren leans back to join you, leaning his damp locks against your shoulder. You mimic his motions, leaning your cheek against his hair and welcoming the cold touch.
“I like being here and…and being here makes the songs and the acting really easy. I feel like I have that support system, of people who care about me, who can kind of help me push through it. The thought of having to figure out things without people helping me when I leave here and…and not having that makes it seem impossible.” you state. 
“You don’t need other people to –” 
“I know I don’t need other people to do this, that I can write songs and act if I need to. But, I need them for me. I’ve spent a lot of time alone and I realized I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to be here forever, I’ve…I feel like I barely appreciated the time I had here and now it’s almost over and I can’t do anything about it.” 
It’s horrible timing. That the song in Connie’s playlist switches. 
There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but 
You both sink deeper into the couch, cheeks pink as the song stops the conversation in full. You can feel that the group of them are all averting their eyes to where you and Eren are sitting, though none of them seem to comment on the fact that your love ballad is booming from the speakers. You turn to Eren and offer him a smile, one that he returns before nervously fiddling with his hair. 
“You still have time left here. You can make the most of it. And even after we leave here, we’re all still backing you up. It might not be all of us all in the same place but…but we’re here when you need us.” Eren states. 
“Yeah. I know that. But it’s just different.”
You pause, unable to put the garbled mess of feelings that’s rumbling in your chest into words. 
Three days ago Levi told you that they were going to put the house up for sale when you were leaving – and the thought of never being able to come back here, that someone else would be sleeping in your room and you’d never be able to return to it made you sick to your stomach. 
You had read the last bits of the script and it was perfect – except for the blank portions that Levi left in one of the sections. He had mentioned that he wanted you and Eren to do something similar to what you were going to do for the “what am I to you scene?” where he was going to ask you to improv whatever he had planned. 
There was a sense of urgency when he mentioned it, because that was actually going to end up being the last scene that you ever filmed. Because Mikasa and Jean were going to get married on Friday, the last day of filming with the entire ensemble was Saturday, and they were all out of there by Sunday night. 
And for the entire week that followed, you, Levi, Hange, and Eren were going to be in the house alone. Hange mentioned it as a sort of gift that Levi wanted to give you – that he wanted to grant the two of you time alone before you parted your separate ways. 
(Apparently he was just sentimental. Or projecting, according to Hange. And part of it was just that he understood because when he had his last weekend of filming La La Land with Hange, he just wanted them all to himself before he had to let them go. That he wanted that for you and Eren or just for himself instead.) 
The thought of being alone with Eren in the house, the way you were when you started filming all those years ago, made your stomach churn with anticipation. Only because you knew – that if something was going to blossom between you and Eren, if you were able to let go of whatever it was that was holding either of you back – it was going to be then. 
Or at the wedding. 
You had visited the venue with Eren a few days prior and the outdoor, woodsy venue that Jean and Mikasa had picked out was eerily similar to where Levi and Hange had their vow renewal. They were leaning into the same energy – of a backyard wedding, with all of their closest friends – and you were half convinced that the setting alone would have you word vomiting everything to Eren. 
Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day 
Eren reaches forward, placing his hand on top of your head, before he slightly rattles your head. 
“Okay, that’s enough being emo for today. Quit being sad and focus on writing the song. Jean is expecting something really great, you know?” 
You groan. 
“Don’t tell me that. I hyped it up so much to him just because he was being annoying but I’m really scared that he won’t like it. Every lyric I write is so ridiculously idiotic that I end up wanting to throw my entire book away.” 
“You’re trying too hard. Just do what feels natural.” 
You’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but right after it does it fills you with a bout of embarrassment. Because if you did what was natural, you’d lean forward and close the space between the two of you, only because you couldn’t help but feel like you were getting intoxicated by how much you wanted him every time you were alone like this. 
But that was just the thing. You weren’t alone. There were at least seven different people in the room. And the fact that it felt so intimate, so bare every time you talked to him like you were the only two people in the room made it impossible to be around him. 
Levi walks into the room with Hange, the two of them juggling cardboard boxes in their hands. Levi nearly drops all of them when Gabi and Jean almost salsa dance straight into him, but luckily enough, Niccolo is able to steer them in a different direction before they can. 
Hange and Levi set the boxes down at the center table, before gesturing for all of you to join them around the table. Eren holds a hand out to you – and it makes your stomach churn when he doesn’t let go as you both walk all the way to the table. 
You can’t help but focus on it. That you’re all circled around the table, that Niccolo is handing Sasha his water bottle, that Falco and Gabi are out of breath, and that Eren has his hand tucked into yours as he intently waits for Levi and Hange to explain. 
“As you guys all know, we’re going to be giving up the house in around a week. I know it feels a little early, but we need to start making preparations since things are going to start wrapping up really fast.” Levi states. 
“And this part is only logical. You guys were the ones who put the polaroids up. It’s only fair that you’re the ones who are going to take them down.” Hange adds. 
You feel your throat dry. 
“What?” Armin asks.  
“We can’t exactly leave them all up. Imagine how horrifying that would be for whoever moved in here after – just thousands of pictures of strangers that they didn’t know.” Levi states. 
“They would be so lucky. We’re literally famous.” Connie huffs. 
“Okay, Connie. Relax. Even then, I figured that you guys would want to keep some as you guys got ready to leave here. We can toss whatever it is you don’t want to keep.” Hange resopnds. 
It just keeps getting worse. You can’t even stomach the fact that they would even consider throwing any of the pictures away, let alone being so ready to pull them all off of their respective spots on the wall. 
“Are you insane? You can’t just throw our childhood away.” Reiner states. 
“Well, you can keep all of the stragglers. Drown in the polaroids in your penthouse apartment, Reiner.” Levi deadpans. 
“Oh, I plan on it.” Reiner responds, glaring at the two of them. 
You can tell that Levi and Hange were well prepared for the pushback. And you understand the frustrations, or at least the panic, everyone seems to be expressing. Armin’s trying to delay whatever this is to the best of his abilities – saying that the wedding pictures would be perfect with all of the polaroids in the background. Reiner said that taking everything down was only fair when Eren got to be a part of the death wall, and Sasha and Mikasa are already fighting over how they’re supposed to divvy up polaroids that we’re all in. 
And you get it, but all it does is fill you with the sinking pit of despair. 
This was the start. Taking all of the pictures down, wrapping your childhood into a little cardboard box and never returning to it again – at least not in the same way. 
The song from the playlist switches, finally mellowing out the ends of your voice, before changing to a different song. 
Levi’s ears immediately perk up at the sound of his own voice, booming through the speakers. 
Just one more tear to cry One teardrop from my eye You better save it for The middle of the night
When things aren't black and white Enter, Troubadour Remember twenty-four?
And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning
“Who is playing this?” Levi asks. 
“Connie.” Eren offers. 
Levi shakes his head, almost like it’s thrown him a distraction, before he hands each of you the boxes and a marker. You all start begrudgingly inking your name into the cardboard, before halfheartedly clutching it to your chests. A few of them make the first move, until it’s just you and Armin left lingering in the kitchen, unable to move. 
“Jesus fuck, Hange. Why would he play this song?” Levi whispers, stuck in a conversation under his breath with Hange. 
“The timing is uncanny. Don’t go crying on them now.” Hange states. 
The two of them shuffle out of the room as you turn to Armin, noting the warm tears that are filling his eyes, as you offer him one of your hands. He opts to link his hand through yours, as you both task yourself with walking over to the fridge first, as you stare at all six of the polaroids stuck under the magnet. 
“I really don’t want to do this.” Armin whispers. 
“Me neither.” 
He snags the first polaroid off of the fridge, of Erwin wearing a sparkly pink apron with Kiss the Chef embroidered into the front pocket. You distinctly remember when Eren had gifted it to Erwin for his birthday – and how he refused to stand in the kitchen without wearing it, even if he wasn’t cooking anything. 
“This picture doesn’t belong anywhere but here.” Armin states. 
You snort. You can see that Armin hesitates, but he settles for putting it in the box. 
“We’ll make a pile on the main table, of who is in each picture. Then…then people can fight it out for who gets to keep which one.” 
“Good idea.” 
It’s quiet, leave for Levi’s voice booming through the speakers, as you and Armin start yanking the pictures off of the wall. The wallpaper has been fading for years, but it’s only more obvious when you start ripping the pictures out to see the brighter color that was covered underneath. 
Armin stops you every few seconds, only to pull on your arm to show you a picture. It’s quiet smiles that you give each other, when you find one of him and Annie, or he gives you one of Hange, and it makes it the slightest bit easier. 
But some of the memories hit you like a bullet train, only because you can’t fathom how much of them you’ve actually forgotten. You only remembered that Falco and Colt had actually been to set before, years before they were even on the show, when Eren flew them out to surprise you for your birthday. Or that on that same day, Mikasa and Armin were the ones to gift you the first notebook that you had ever scribbled your lyrics in. 
They were so deeply intertwined in the memories – every single one. You suppose that’s probably why it was the hardest to let go, to walk away from all of them and limit them to just being pictures in a box. 
And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning (Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)
“Armin.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Do you ever think about that night? In Seattle?” you ask. 
He pauses, abandoning the polaroid fixed in his fingers – of you and Historia cheek to cheek – as he sinks against the wall and sits on the floor. You join him on the ground, looping in your arm through his, as you lean your head against his shoulder. 
“Sometimes.” 
“Me too.” 
“I try to pinpoint moments where it feels like things changed. And there are lots of them, but I do find myself always going back to that one. Things felt so weird and out of line in the months before that, I felt like we were all moving in different directions, and that really solidified it.” Armin states. 
You pause. 
“Yeah, yeah I agree. Sometimes I wish I could go back and change things. But I also don’t.” 
“What do you mean?” Armin asks. 
“My first instinct when Eren and I started fighting was to ask him to tell the truth, to come with us and that we’d fix everything. Knowing what I know now, I wish that I had fought harder – that I trusted my gut more because I could clearly feel that something was wrong. But I also don’t, because sometimes I think the way things played out is how it needed to be, for me to feel how I am right now.” you state. 
“How do you feel now?” 
You pause. 
“I remember when we took Connie home with us and…and he started screaming at us. I felt really hopeless. I feel like watching him act like that, to be struggling so much, really sank me into that pit I was in. But I guess, I don’t know. Maybe I needed to see that and how he is now, to see how Sukuna was and how he is now, and Lana too to know that maybe there’s some way out of it for me too after I leave here.” you state. 
Armin smiles. 
“I’m really happy for Lana and Sukuna.” 
You grin. 
“I’m really happy for Connie too. And Eren and…and us too. So much has happened that I really can't even wrap my mind around everything that has happened, but sometimes all I’m left with is that I feel really grateful that we’re all here right now. Especially you and me. Sometimes I forget that you and I faced the worst of it together and…and that we’re here right now, the way that we are, just kind of…fixes it all in my mind.” 
“I agree. I feel like we saw the worst of it together, maybe acted at our worst together too, but it makes me feel better that we both came out of it the way that we did. I feel like we never learn and even though we burn bridges, we still ended up doing what was right at the end of the day.” Armin adds. 
Armin smiles, as he pushes up off the ground and holds out his hand to you. He pulls you up, averting his eyes to behind you, before you turn to find Annie and Eren standing behind. He gives you a knowing look before he switches places with Eren – and the two of them stalk off together. 
Eren gives you a smile, before aggressively sticking a polaroid in your face. You’re caught off guard by the suddenness, before you focus on the picture. It’s of you and Eren on the last day of filming Season Three – your arms wrapped around his neck as you both smile in the camera. 
“Yours or mine?” he asks. 
“Mine.” 
“Well, you should get a move on. I’ve already stolen whatever pictures there were on the wall near the bay window.” 
“No debate? No negotiating?” you ask. 
“Absolutely not. You snooze, you lose.” 
You and Eren fall into a quiet pace, the same way you were with Armin. It seems like it’s something everyone was adapting, because the house felt quieter as usual as you all pulled the memories off of the walls. 
He’d stop here and there and place a polaroid into the palm of your hand. It was getting almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, making that melancholy that seemed to reside in your chest almost impossible to breathe through. 
It was like watching yourself fall in love with Eren all over again.
Because all you can think about is the fact that you had really liked Eren at that award’s show, that you went on a date before that press event, that filming that scene was really fun because you had spent the entire day together. 
That you used to sleep in the same bed every night, that you made breakfast together every morning, that the safe confines of this little wooden house was the place that you and Eren got to be yourselves, where your love was saved from being touched and garbled by other people. 
“Eren.” 
“Yeah?” 
“What are you going to do with the pictures?” you ask. 
Eren pauses, eyeing the messy mess of pictures in his box, before he looks back up at you. 
“I’m staying at this place by the sea, in Ireland, for a few months after the show ends. It’s my parent’s cabin, but I just want to go there and take a break before I jump into anything again. I’ll put some of the pictures up there.” he states. 
You nod. 
You’re not sure why you ask the question, and it’s almost instant embarrassment when it comes out, but you have to stick with it after you do. 
“Will you tell other girls about who I am?” 
“What?” 
You bite your tongue. 
“I just mean. If people point to the pictures and stuff, you’ll tell them about us, right? All the pretty girls you’re going to take to your fancy cabin?” you joke. 
Eren seems to visibly relax when he figures that this has to be some weird idea of a joke that you’re making. 
“Oh. Yeah, of course. Trust me, when I take my children to that cabin, I’ll make sure they know the entire story before they leave.” 
You smile. 
“And what’s that?” 
“Oh, you know. That it was a moment in time, what you and I had. That people went crazy for it, that…that you and I did too.” Eren states. 
“Who said I went crazy for it?” 
Eren rolls his eyes. 
“You have not one, but two matching tattoos with me. We’ve written so many songs about each other, that people still listen to.” 
“I was just teasing. Relax.” 
Eren hands you a polaroid – a solo picture that he had taken of you at Hange and Levi’s vow renewal – that you tuck into your box. The walls are bare and empty as you peek your head through the other rooms. And you all group back together in the main room, boxes filled on the ground as you find too many of them locking their limbs together and swaying together in the air. 
You and Eren smile at each other as Reiner catches sight of you and makes a dramatic display of wrapping both of his arms around you. Jean and Mikasa follow next – somehow producing shots for everyone out of thin air. 
The only notable thing that stands out is that Connie’s standing by the far wall, stuck staring at the wallpaper. Normally, you’d expect him to be at the center of this, making some extreme, dramatic speech on top of the table about how we were all going down in history. 
You tangle out of Mikasa’s embrace to walk up next to him, only to feel your stomach churn when you find exactly what it is that Connie’s staring at. Because it’s not a blank patch of wallpaper – but instead, his shitty spelling marked into the wall, accompanied by the one polaroid you had seemingly forgotten all about. 
Of Marco, his tub of ice cream, and his bright smile when you had all inducted him as the start of the death wall. You look to your left to find Connie crying, as you lean your head against his shoulder, unable to stop your own. 
“I can’t take it down. He…he’s going to miss the wedding.” he whispers. 
It makes your stomach ache. That Marco won’t be there to see Jean and Mikasa get married, that he won't be at the wrap party, and that someone will have to come over here and rip him off of the wall for good. 
“I can’t do it either.” 
Eren’s the next to join the two of you, his arms warm around your shoulders, before you feel him physically tense at your side when he realizes. The crowd only seems to get bigger, until the entire group of you are standing there, limbs tangled in together as you all stare at the picture of him.
Levi and Hange, who are the last to join, are the first to break the silence. 
“No one can do it, can they?” Hange asks. 
You all shake your heads. Levi makes his way to the front – and you can’t help but study him as you watch him observe the picture. 
It was no secret to you that Levi had a soft spot for Marco, that it only intensified after he died, and that it was something that Levi was going to beat himself over forever.
You think about it often – that one time that Levi insinuated that what happened could be traced back to him, because Marco’s fame could be traced back to when Levi had cast him in the show. That if Levi didn't make Marco famous, the paparazzi would have called the ambulance instead of prioritizing the photo.
When he reaches for the picture, you realize that you can’t let him do it alone. 
You walk up to his side and pull on his arm. 
“Together.” you state. 
Levi gives you wide eyes, heaving a deep sign out, before he nods. You turn back to the crowd of them standing, as you gesture for them to join. 
You all place your hands on each other, making it literally impossible for you to all stand there as you try to jump and duck under each other to secure your hands on the picture. It’s all giggles because Connie asks Reiner not to touch his butt and they start bickering before you all pull. 
But on the count of three, you all pull it off of the wallpaper, before letting go. It’s left in Levi’s hands at the end of it. 
You all let him keep it. He shoots you a grateful smile for the assistance.
--
The air is palpable the morning of the wedding. You can feel it thrumming under your skin – the anticipation – the second you spring your eyes open. It reminded you of how you used to sleep the night before a field trip, unable to contain your excitement to the point where you were unable to quiet your mind before sleeping. 
You nearly shoot up because of it, unable to stop staring at Mikasa at your side. Her hair is tousled around the pillow, the sleep mask that she put on last night sticking to the side of her face, and she’s snoring horrendously loud. 
In your excitement, you lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. 
“Jean?” 
You snort. 
“No. Don’t insult me in the early hours of the morning.” you state. 
Your voice is enough to wake Mikasa up, and similarly enough to you, she shoots up the second she’s regained consciousness. The green mask is falling off the right side of her face and her eyes are so horrendously wide that she almost looks like an alien. 
“Holy shit. “
“What?” 
“I’m getting married today.” 
You can’t help but smile from ear to ear as you wrap your arms around her neck and squeeze hard. It’s a mix of giggles, of the two of you squealing like you were fifteen again, and of you and Mikasa tickling each other in your hug.
The morning goes by relatively slowly. 
Whatever that feeling is, the warm, sweetness in the air – it’s hanging in the air. The group of you are all holed up in Mikasa’s room – Gabi, Falco, Connie, Historia, Armin, and Sasha. The rest of them were all stuck with Jean. You can already anticipate that there’s more panic and high energy in that room just from the sheer fact of Ymir being stuck with Reiner, Eren, and Jean in there alone. 
You were all in charge of getting Mikasa ready, of getting dressed yourselves, and getting her to the venue. They had to do the same with Jean – but you and Eren had to be there before to pass out the corsages and pin the boutonnieres. 
There was a slight panic in the background, but the calmness was making it taper into almost nothing. And really, the entire ordeal felt so homey, so ordinary that you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling as you all went about it, because you had been thinking – planning for it – for so long. 
Connie and Sasha tasked themselves with making iced coffee, Falco and Gabi had spent twenty minutes tracking down the Doordash order with the breakfast, and you were left alone to do Mikasa’s hair. 
It was just the two of you, humming in the bathroom to the quiet little playlist Jean had sent Mikasa as a gift this morning, as you quietly tasked yourself with doing her hair. It was relatively simple, just two braids at the front to tuck behind her ears, with little flowers intertwined in between. The veil was going to take up most of the space in the back, so you were just curling the ends for her. 
It’s quiet until you can hear her sniffling, only to look up in the mirror to her trying to blot her tears away from her eyes. You try to focus on the song that’s playing – only to find that Jean had put invisible string in the playlist – and you can’t help but smile. You pause, placing your hands on her shoulders as you squeeze hard. 
“Oh god. Are you getting cold feet because he’s ugly?” you joke. 
She glares at you. 
“Fuck off.” 
You laugh before tucking wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your chin on her shoulder. She gives you a smile in the mirror – one that you return – as she finishes wiping her tears away. 
“Now really. What is it? You can’t be sad on your wedding day or else I’ve failed as a maid of honor.” 
She shakes her head. 
“Not sad. Just…I don’t know. I was reflecting. Feeling really introspective about a lot of things and I realized that there was a point that I thought this would never happen for me. And god, I’m so fucking happy it is.” Mikasa states. 
“This meaning…?” 
“You. Braiding my hair for my wedding. Jean. Actually marrying me after everything that happened. Getting to leave here with him.” 
You swallow hard. She turns around, placing her hands on your shoulder. You distract yourself by messing with how the ends of her bangs were falling, brushing them into place before you give her a smile. 
“Thanks for coming back. I would never want to do this without you.” she states. 
“Thanks for letting me. It would be agonizing to watch this from the sidelines.” 
She leans forward and hugs you, so hard that she’s leaning her entire weight on you. And every inclination that you made of letting go gets ignored, because Mikasa holds on to you for a long time. 
“You’re my best friend.” she mumbles. 
You can feel the tears accumulating in your own eyes, the sniffling coming from your nose this time, as you hear Mikasa spare a quiet laugh. 
“Seriously?” 
“I just started getting all fucking…introspective like you were. I’ve spent my entire life here, my entire childhood sleeping next to you and when I wasn’t, it was because Jean was in here. And now you’re getting married to him and I’m going to be right next to you when it happens, and I just…” 
You pause. 
“I don’t remember when we grew up. I’m glad I got to do it with the both of you.” you finish.
You try to etch it into your memory – this moment – so you can remember it forever. The two of you in your pajamas, barefoot on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, breathing in tandem as you held each other while crying. 
She was hours away from being a wife. You were about to watch Jean and Mikasa get the perfect ending, that the nights that they spent together in your room all led to the two of them standing on that altar, exchanging vows. You would be two feet away from Eren, who was going to smile at you with his perfect green eyes and make your stomach do a somersault. 
You were going to hold hands, he was going to dance with you, and that might be the end of it. Or the start, if you’re both able to muster and get over that block that was always stuck in your throats. 
Connie and Sasha return with the coffee soon enough and Falco and Gabi with the food. You all sit in a circle, sharing bites and switching drinks, until Sasha locks herself and Mikasa in the bathroom to do her makeup and fit her into her dress. 
You take the free second to sit at the vanity, using the sweet free time to style Falco’s hair for him before you do your own makeup. You can see Connie brushing Gabi’s hair through the mirror, intently focused as he holds the bobbi pins in between his lips, and gathers her hair together at the back of her neck. You can’t help but smile as you focus back on Falco, trying to tame the unruliness of his hair with the mousse. 
“Be careful with Eren’s cufflinks today, Falco. He’s expecting those back.” you state. 
“No, he isn’t. He gave them to me earlier and he actually said that he wants me to keep them.” 
It makes your heart sink a little – only because you don’t know what it means. If he was giving it up to Falco out of good will because he was your little brother and he loved him or because he wanted to get them straight off of his hands since you two were going to be leaving and parting ways soon. 
“Well, be careful. They’re very nice. And they’re special too, so just. Take care.” you state. 
Falco frowns at you through the mirror, before turning back to look at you. 
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” 
“You seem sad.” 
“No. I just feel really sentimental. My best friend is getting married and we…we’re all going to be leaving soon. I’m watching two people who have been in love forever seal the deal before I won’t ever live with them ever again.” 
Falco frowns, before he reaches forward and wraps his arms around you. You can’t help but smile as you bury your nose into his shirt, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and laundry detergent mixed together. 
“You’ll have a lot of fun today. You’ll have Eren with you. And you’re performing your song, which will be amazing. Levi also told me that you have to save a dance from him and Connie said he’s going to mix drinks after the reception, so you have a lot to look forward to.” 
You glare at him. 
“The only thing you’re mixing is soda, Falco.” 
He gives you a grin. 
“Right!” 
“I’m going to tell mom.” 
He glares. 
“Don’t be a narc. I was trying to be nice to you.” 
“You’re going to get liver disease, Falco.” 
“Gabi and I have never tried it. We just wanted to do it together.” 
You pinch your lips together, before shaking your head. 
“I’ll just pretend like I didn’t hear that.” 
You watch as Falco’s eyes light up, before he presses a wet kiss to your cheek. You push him off, as you finish the last touches on his hair, and lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 
Falco runs off, mainly to Gabi’s side as he starts admiring her hair and she does the same to him. And as you quietly start smearing the makeup on your face, Connie takes the seat at your side at the vanity. 
It’s quiet. Mainly because he’s messing with the ends of his own hair and you’re focused on smearing the glitter on your eyelids that you don’t really acknowledge each other. You only break the concentration – and start the conversation – as Connie watches you struggle with your necklace. 
“Yikes. Want help?” 
You smile. 
“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.” you state. 
You hand the necklace over to him – and watch the smile spread across his face as he eyes the little Saturn charm – before he signals for you to turn around. The necklace falls perfectly into place before you turn back to him and silently thank him. 
“Eren’s wearing his pin too.” Connie states. 
“He is?” 
“Well, planning on it. I saw him walking around with it downstairs when we were making the coffee.” 
You hum in response, as you place the blush on your cheeks. 
“How did he seem? Is he stressed out?”
“No. He’s pretty zen, considering how batshit he was acting last night when you were running through the checklist.” 
You smile. 
“I just think he’s excited for the wedding. You know how much he loves Jean and Mikasa.” you state. 
Connie smiles at you through the mirror, before leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. It’s a weirdly antagonistic look that he gives you, that you ignore as you rummage through the colors of your lip glosses and lipsticks to find the perfect one. 
“I know how much he loves you.” 
You give him a weary look. 
“You kissed three times. He smiled into the kiss. You used your tongue. We’re not about to play this shitty game.” Connie states. 
“I didn’t say anything.” you state. 
Connie smiles and really, the fact that he was rooting for the two of you so hard, that he approved, only made your excitement to see him later grow tenfold. 
“So you know that he loves you?” Connie asks. 
You swallow hard, before shaking the thought away. 
“Well, of course he does. We’re good friends.” 
Connie gives you a glare and it makes you fold. 
“Just…don’t tell him, okay?” 
“I won’t. But you…you do know, right?” 
You sigh. 
“Yeah. I’m just stuck on how to tell him, when the right time is, if…if he really wants to. I know that he loves me but that…that doesn’t necessarily mean that he wants to give our relationship another try.” 
Connie frowns. 
“He doesn’t know that’s on the table.” Connie states. 
“What do you mean?”
“You know he loves you. He has no idea that you love him too.” 
“There’s no way. It’s…it’s obvious. I’ve given him so many signs.” 
Connie shrugs. 
“Yeah. But he’s insecure. His mind plays tricks on him…and he won’t believe it unless you tell him, explicitly. Some days he says that he thinks you reciprocate and in the next hour, he’s moping in my room about how he’s lost you forever.” 
You deflate and give him a nod, as you secure your hands around one of your tubes of lipstick. Connie shakes his head, before taking it from you and digging through the little pouch himself. 
“No, you can’t wear that.” Connie states. 
“I didn’t realize you were so opinionated about the makeup I wore.” 
“No. Well, yes. But no, no Eren likes it when you wear glossy stuff on your lips.” 
“Why do you know that?”
“He’s down horrendous.” Connie affirms. 
“I’m not picking my makeup look based off of Eren.” 
Connie pauses and gives you a look. You sigh. 
“Okay, fine. Give it.” 
He gives you a bright smile, before handing it over to you. And you smear it over your lips, before taking the open room on the left so slip in your dress and meet Eren downstairs. 
--
You slip into your dress before you meet Eren downstairs, to make sure that everyone gets tucked into the correct cars, with flowers pinned to their jackets and secured around their wrists. You carry the pair of shoes you had chosen – black kitten heels to save your feet from the walking – as you make your way down the stairs. 
You can already see Eren standing in the kitchen, placing the boxes in a line, as you feel the nervousness prickle all over your skin. His hair is pushed back, tucked behind his ears. He’s not wearing his jacket yet, the sleeves of his white collared shirt pulled up to his forearms, and he looks perfect. 
You nervously knock on the frame of the door, as you drop your heels to the ground and join him at his side. 
“Hey. Want my help?” you mumble, feeling the shake in your voice. 
Eren’s fumbling with the plastic box in his hands, his throat bobbing, as he doesn’t respond, until it’s awkwardly been too long. And it’s almost like he’s realized it – that he was staring full on, that he had ignored what you had said – as he shakes his head before looking up at you. 
“Did-did you say something to me?” 
You can’t help but laugh, as you nervously rub at the sides of your biceps. 
“Yeah. I was asking if you wanted help.” 
“Right. Yeah, yeah. I was just making sure that the boxes had everyone’s names on it.” Eren adds. 
You hum in response, as you join him at his side, and eye the little list that he had set in the middle of the counter. You start to eye the little labels, leaving little star marks next to each one you found on the paper, as you try to distract yourself and the burning in the pit of your stomach. 
“You look beautiful.” 
You feel your eyes widen. 
“Huh?”
“I mean, you’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful, but you…” 
Eren lifts his gaze from the plastic boxes, as he looks over at you, eyes striking and piercing. It sends a shiver down your spine. He places both of his hands on your elbows and you mimic the motion by resting yours against your forearms as you look up at him. 
You watch as his eyes waver – first to your lips, before they drop down to your necklace. He reaches up, twisting the little Saturn charm in between his fingers, before he smiles up at you. 
“Mine is on my jacket.” 
You smile. 
“He has to be there some way, right?” 
He sighs. 
“Yeah.” 
“Speaking of…” 
He looks around the little plastic boxes, before he reaches for one that has your name scribbled over the top. You reach for it, before he pulls back, giving you an offended look. 
“Are you insane?” he asks. 
“What? That’s literally mine.” 
“What kind of guy do you think I am? You’re my date, I obviously have to put it on for you.” Eren states. 
“Oh.” 
Eren smiles.
“Yeah. Oh.” 
Eren opens up the little plastic box, pulling out the little corsage, before fidgeting with the little flowers until they fall perfectly. You hold out your left hand to him and he slides the little ribbon across your wrist, until it’s set in place. 
He lifts your hand and presses your knuckles against his lips, leaving a quiet kiss on your ring finger. It makes your chest burn. 
“Perfect.” he whispers. 
You swallow hard, trying to swallow the dryness in your throat, as you look up at him. 
“Can I do yours?” 
“I don’t have a corsage, sweetheart. Such a shame.” 
You shove him. 
“You know what I meant.” 
He smiles, as he reaches for his coat hanging from the chair. You find the box with his name on it as he pulls his jacket on, adjusting it. You take the little silver pins and the boutonniere as you press it to the lapel. And it’s going well until you poke a little too hard, in the wrong direction. 
“Ow.” 
“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Eren.” 
You can feel your hands shaking as you try to pin it properly this time, which only gets worse when you can feel that Eren’s watching you – and that he’s amused by how hard you’re trying not to stab him with the pins. 
“That didn’t actually hurt, Y/N.” 
You place the last pin before you unclench and look back up at him. You take the second to admire the little purple flowers on his coat, before smiling up at him. 
“Perfect!” 
Eren smirks, before he leans forward. He’s so close that you can feel the breath tickling your nose when he talks and the mint in his breath. 
“No kiss for me?” 
“Huh? Did…did you want one?” 
“It’s hardly satisfying when you have to ask for it. You have to offer it to me.” Eren states. 
And you were about to, but that’s right when Jean and Niccolo come tumbling down the stairs, readjusting their collars. You can hear the cars pulling up against the gravel outdoors, as Eren hands both of them their boutonnieres, and they run out the door. 
Everyone tumbles through like a stampede – as you get stuck handing all of them the boxes and get too distracted to hand them all out. You feel your heart burst when Historia realizes that she gets two corsages – since Reiner and Connie are both her dates – and the dramatic display that they both make of kissing her hand and her cheeks when they put them on her has you giggling. 
Levi and Hange are the last ones to leave, until it’s just you and Eren standing in the kitchen, facing each other. 
“Ready?” 
“Yeah. Just have to put my shoes on.” 
Eren gives you a nod, before grabbing them from the side and getting on his knees. His arms move around your leg, exposed from the slit in the side of your dress as he secures the buckles around your ankles. 
“Too tight?” 
You clear your throat. 
He has to know what he’s doing to you. That he can’t just place his head in between your legs like that. 
“No. That’s good.” 
He mimics the motion with the other shoe, fingers featherlike around your ankle, before he looks back up at you. And he holds his hand out to you, circling it around yours as the two of you walk out onto the gravel towards the car. 
--
The four of you are lined up inside, peeking out the window, at Jean standing alone at the altar. You can see groups of people running around the little makeshift aisles – Hange and Levi sharing a drink, Lana with a little baby bump and Teddy tangled around her knees, and Sofia and Ymir admiring the flowers around the aisle. 
“Lana and Sukuna are here. I can’t believe she’s showing already.” you whisper to Eren. 
You watch as Eren’s eyes scan the room, before he catches the sight of the three of them on the left and smiles. 
“Look at Teddy’s suit. He’s fucking adorable.” 
“Sofia and Ymir look fucking amazing.” Connie adds. 
“And Niccolo!” Sasha adds. 
The three of you turn your gaze to her, giving her a side eye, before you all burst out laughing. In the time that you have to wait for Mikasa, Connie somehow produces two popsicles from the little truck outside, one that he hands to you and Eren and the other that he shares with Sasha. 
You consider yourself lucky that Connie chose the blue one for himself and gave you and Eren the lemon, which had a translucent color. Connie later realizes his mistake when his tongue turns blue. 
You look up at Eren, whose eyes are still transfixed at the people lingering around outside. 
“You don’t want any, Eren?” 
He looks over at you, and down at the popsicle, before he wraps his arm around your wrists and uses it to lift the popsicle to his mouth. He takes one bite and gives you a smile, before dropping his featherlike touch from your hand and looking back outside. 
You can’t help but use your other hand to rub the inside of your forearm, where his fingers had just touched yours. 
And you watch everyone with him, the two of you silently standing at the window. Levi keeps getting Hange refills and Reiner and Historia go in the photo booth. Sukuna basically guards Lana like a dog – refusing to leave her side, leaning down every few minutes to whisper in her ear, with what you know is constant questioning of if she’s comfortable or not. 
Connie and Sasha yank on your elbows. The two of you turn your heads only to fall silent at the sight of Mikasa, excitedly smiling at you in her pristine and perfect white dress. 
“Ready to get me married, guys?” she whispers. 
You feel your heart squelch in your chest as you reach forward at the same time as Sasha, the two of you stuck in each of her arms and the fresh scent of her bouquet filling your nose. You can’t help but admire her – the shimmering glitter on her skin, the sparkling accents on her dress, and the veil flowing behind her. 
It’s perfect. 
She lets the two of you go before she gives Connie and Eren a shy smile, and they both rise to the occasion. They make a dramatic display of clutching their chests and it makes your heart sing as you watch Mikasa smile at the praise, at the two of them making it evidently clear that she’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. Connie and Eren both lean down to press a kiss to Mikasa’s cheeks, before you all line up, standing side by side. 
Connie and Sasha stand in front, followed by you and Eren, and then Mikasa alone. You turn to Eren and he offers you a wink, as you feel your nerves bubble as the entrance song stars. 
You can see it from the window – Levi seated at the piano with the microphone in front of him. And on his cue, Sasha and Connie walk out first together. 
I've waited a hundred years But I'd wait a million more for you Nothing prepared me for What the privilege of being yours would do
Eren extends his hand out to you and you wrap yours in with his, as you both walk out into the courtyard. The air is fresh, the sun is dipping into the sunset and making a perfect mix of purple and pink hues, as the little lights hanging from the trees start twinkling. 
You can’t help but squeeze hard on the bouquet as you walk down, nerves tingling. It’s warm in the little courtyard, but only because of how the blood rushes to your cheeks – it nearly hurts to smile this hard. 
You offer Sukuna a wink as you walk past, before you and Eren let each other go at the end of the aisle. You and Eren stop before Jean, before leaning forward to give him a hug. You press a kiss to his cheek, which he smiles brightly at, before you and Eren take your spots opposite to each other at his side. 
If I had only felt the warmth within your touch If I had only seen how you smile when you blush Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough
I would have known what I was living for all along What I've been living for
Levi’s voice is piercing, so warm and full that it makes the tears spark to your eyes. And when everyone rises out of their chairs and Mikasa steps out into the light, you instantly turn your head to the left to look at Jean. 
And surely enough, Jean’s hands are shaking at his sides as the tears start to sprout out of his eyes – as he looks at her glide down and doesn’t break his eye contact once. It’s full blown tears, from both of them, and Mikasa’s basically rushing down the aisle just to get there faster. 
You look past Jean to find Eren watching the two of them, with the brightest smile on his face. 
Your love is my turning page Where only the sweetest words remain Every kiss is a cursive line Every touch is a redefining phrase
When Mikasa makes it to the end, Jean reaches for her hand and pulls her up. You take the little bouquet from her hands, and she gives you a wink in response, before turning back to Jean and locking her hands in with his. 
I surrender who I've been for who you are For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart If I had only felt how it feels to be yours Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along What I've been living for
Levi finishes the end of his song with a dancing melody on the piano, before everyone takes a seat and they start the ceremony. 
You and Eren stare at each other the entire time. 
--
The reception afterwards is cast in silver moonlight. There’s a live jazz band, a little dance floor, and obviously an open bar. It’s a rush to make sure that Mikasa and Jean aren’t entirely shit faced by the time you’re able to perform your song and keeping them away from the bar before that happens turns out to be a horrendous task. 
But surely enough, you and Eren are standing by the piano as you wait for Levi to announce the first dance. You turn to Eren, looking up at him, as you watch Levi make his way over to the microphone. 
“Nervous?” 
Eren shakes his head. 
“Have you with me. We’ll be fine.” 
You give him a nod as you absentmindedly tangle your hand in with his at your sides, that he welcomes. And when Levi announces that it’s time for the first dance, Mikasa and Jean make their way to the center of the dance floor, the two of them blowing you a kiss as you take your seat at the piano. 
The second they look away, too entranced with looking at each other, Eren slides into the bench at your side and the two of you start playing the piano together. It’s only when Eren starts singing the first verse that they look back, at the two of you sitting there together. 
Eren:  I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?
You look up from the piano keys to find Jean looking at you – smiling so brightly as the tears stream from his eyes – with Mikasa in his hands. You give him a wink, as you watch him turn his head away, his tears only increasing when he looks down at Mikasa. 
Eren and Y/N:  They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
Y/N:  On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time
You can’t help but turn to your left to look at Eren, only to find that he’s already looking at you first. He tangles his foot in with yours under the piano as your fingers brush against each other and you can feel it – the softness enveloping you and Eren, that the feeling of being around him makes your skin tickle whenever he looks at you. 
Y/N:  Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
You and Eren turn your heads back to the dance floor to watch as everyone joins Jean and Mikasa on the dance floor, hands locked together as they all smile at each other. Connie, Reiner, and Historia are trying some weird three way version of slow dance that has all of them laughing, and Hange and Levi are stuck in some deep conversation that they are whispering in each other’s ears. 
Falco and Gabi are so tense that it almost looks painful, but the smiles on their faces don’t indicate that they’re aware of how rigid they’re both being. And Ymir presses a kiss to Sofia’s cheek, which makes her laugh. 
Eren and Y/N:  They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming) Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something) I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving) You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming) All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
You and Eren turn to your left to give the jazz band a thumbs up, as they take over on the music and start playing soft violin music so everyone can keep going. And you turn back to your right towards Eren and lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck. 
And when you pull back, you secure one of his hands around his cheek and absentmindedly rub your thumb against his bottom lip. 
“Think it went well?” Eren whispers. 
You shrug. Eren smiles back, before mimicking your shrug in response. 
You can feel the breath leave your lungs as you feel a pair of two arms around you, only to find Jean and Mikasa strangling you and Eren from behind the piano. The two of you stand up, to hug the two of them openly, as they smile down at you. Mikasa seems to break off to talk to Eren, because Jean pulls you to the side. 
“Y/N.” 
“Just to be clear, that was your gift. And if you hate it, that’s too bad because I –” 
You’re cut off by Jean pressing a kiss to your cheek, before he envelopes you in a hug so hard that you can barely breathe. Jean lets go after a few minutes, his hand warm on your face as he smiles down at you. 
“I loved it. That was the song of my dreams.” 
You can’t help but grin at him. 
“You deserve nothing less, Jean. I…I’m really happy for you. Just take care of my girl, okay?” 
“That’s a promise.” he affirms. 
You’re joined by Eren and Mikasa at your sides and you can tell from the pink mark on Eren’s cheek that Mikasa was feeling just as sappy as Jean was. You reach forward and wipe the mark away from his cheek, as you look at the two of them. 
“I owe Mika a dance and then Gabi. I’m all yours after that, Y/N.” Eren says. 
You smile, before you wave him off. 
“Go ahead.” 
You take your seat back at the piano bench, as you collect the sheet music and the lyrics and tuck them into the little cabinet of the piano. You sit there for some time – watching Eren and Mikasa giggle on the dance floor before he switches with Gabi who can’t stop blushing. 
That’s until you’re joined by Levi at your side, who offers you a flute of champagne. You take it from him, as you tuck your arm into his, leaning your head against his shoulder. 
“Your song was beautiful, Levi.” you murmur. 
“Yours was too.” he responds. 
You both watch the room in silence for some time, at how animated and lively it all was. Teddy was falling asleep against Sukuna’s shoulder, but him and Lana were caught in a deep conversation – soft smiles on both of their faces as they talked under their breaths at their table. 
“I want to talk to you about something.” Levi states. 
“Go ahead.” 
Levi clears his throat. 
“I…I hear that my vow renewal all those years ago meant a lot to you. Eren and I were talking about it.” 
“Oh. Yeah, what about it?” 
“I want to know what it meant.” Levi clarifies. 
You lean back as you think about it – about the love in the room – and turn back to him. 
“That night was the first time that Eren and I said we loved each other. That…that was the last time before things went so horribly wrong. Because we sat on the bench and talked about the love in the room, about how it was between us.” 
You can feel your throat drying. 
“After that, I got so busy. I started working too hard. He got stuck on Satellite Port, he…he was around people we hated and there were just so many things that came between us. I let go but then he did too. I had him for a second and then he was gone for good.” 
You look back out at him, posing for a picture with Gabi encased in his arms. 
“I saw you and Hange that day and all I could think about was how in love you guys were. About how I knew love was real, because you guys had it. That…that was what I was going to strive for, what I still do strive for at the end of the day. You guys are perfect, you’re THE love story for me and…you always have been.” 
Levi sighs. 
“Can I say one thing to you?” Levi asks. 
“Yeah.” 
“You have a tendency to not see things as they are sometimes. Like Danny and Sareen taking advantage, like Eren saying it was okay when you let him go, and believing him when he said what he did.” 
You tilt your head to the side, in confusion. 
“Hange and I are far from perfect. I’ll tell you now, very clearly. Hange and I did a vow renewal because we needed one. Not because it was romantic and we wanted to do it again.” 
“What?” 
“We wouldn’t be together if we didn’t do it. And our relationship reached that point, where…where we needed to affirm it again. That we loved each other, that we were committed, that we were what was most important.” 
You sit back, dumbfounded. 
Levi and Hange were in love. They had always been in love. 
“I don’t get it.” 
Levi smiles. 
“What I mean by this is that…these things are normal in love. The initial attraction doesn’t keep you going. You have to pick each other, you have to be on the same side. It’s far more intentional, less cosmic as you think.” Levi states. 
You follow his gaze to Jean and Mikasa, clearly obscenely drunk out of their minds, eating their wedding cake. 
“They’re just as perfect as me and Hange are. It’s a fucking testament to them that they’re sitting here married after what happened with them. And it should be proof to you that what happened with you and Eren won’t hold you back, that…that it’ll really benefit you when it comes to it.  You’ve already gotten past the hard part, you just need to leap now.” 
You swallow hard. 
“Are you shattering my entire worldview by telling me the truth about your vow renewal so I’ll date Eren?”
“Yeah.” 
“Figures.” 
Levi looks over at you, hands warm on your shoulders. 
“Your mistake wasn’t picking him. His was not picking you when it came to it later, not in the way that mattered anyway. Now, fix it. Pick him now.” 
Levi abruptly stops when Eren’s standing at your side, tie loosened around his neck as he gives you a cheesy smile. 
“Ready for me?” Eren asks. 
Levi gives you a narrowed look, which you ignore as you nod and stand up at his side. Eren leads you to the center of the dance floor, securing his hands around your waist as you tangle your own around his neck. 
You and Eren sway to the violin in the background, the two of you quietly observing each other as you walk in step. 
“I’m sorry I took so long. I danced with Mikasa and then Gabi. Lana and Sukuna stopped to talk to me and I just got side tracked.” 
You shake your head. 
“No, no. I…it’s okay. I was with Levi.” 
Eren smiles. 
“I…I’m glad you’re here with me now.” he whispers. 
“Me too.” you whisper back. 
The live singer, a small gift that Levi and Hange had planned for Mikasa and Jean, arrives right at the start of your little dance, and her voice so soft and melodic that you can’t help but pull yourself closer to Eren as she sings, until your ear is muffled against his coat, barely catching the ends of his heartbeat. 
Time's moving so much slower lately It's like the world's playin' a joke Laughing at me for falling foolishly again But something's different with you
Traffic on Sunset doesn't phase me I'm just unusually composed That is until I touch you and I can't pretend I lose myself again, I do
I'm all in, I'm fallin' Can't get back up Can't think right, too tongue-tied It must be love
“Eren?” 
“Yeah?” 
“What are you thinking about?” 
He pulls you apart a little, until you’re standing properly and looking up at him. The violin’s are sending goosebumps down your arms as he looks down at you, pointer finger hooked under your chin as he guides you to look up at him. 
“That someone heard my prayers.” 
You smile. 
“Really?” 
He nods. 
“Armin and I used a whoopie cushion on Connie earlier. Gabi gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek and Teddy fell asleep in my lap earlier. Jean and Mikasa are getting married and I’m here with you. There was a point where thinking I’d ever end up here seemed unfathomable to me.” 
“You and Armin are so immature.” you state. 
Eren shrugs. 
“It keeps me young,” he jokes. 
Friends asking me where I've been hiding I'm losin' hours in your eyes Lost in your wonderland, I hope I'm never found There's no one else around, tonight
I'm not so used to being happy Now I just float down every street You made a sappy, stupid something out of me The kind I swore I'd never be I'm awake inside a dream
“I have…I have a lot I want to talk to you about, Eren. So…so much I want to say.” 
Eren’s eyes widen. 
“My time is always yours. What did you want to say?” 
“It’s so many things. And I want to say it right. There’s…there’s so much going on and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and I don’t want to scare you off because you and I are just doing good again and I don’t think that –” 
Eren narrows his eyes. 
“Why are you so tense? There’s nothing you could say that would hurt my feelings. It’s just me.” 
You frown. 
“That’s the problem. It’s just you.” 
You feel a tapping on your shoulder, only to find Jean and Mikasa standing by your side, with two glasses in their hands. 
“Are we interrupting something?” Jean asks. 
You groan. 
“No. What’s up?” 
“We have one last request.” Mikasa states. 
“What is it?” Eren asks. 
The two of them give each other an excited smile – cheeks glazed pink – before they turn back to you. 
“You have to let loose and drink.” they state, pushing the glasses into your hands. 
You both give each other a pinched look, before turning back to them. 
“We don’t drink. It makes me sleepy. And he doesn’t like the taste.” you state. 
“We’re not going to force you. But really, you put so much time into the wedding. We just want you guys to have fun…loosen up a little bit.” Mikasa states. 
The two of them giggle as they walk away, leaving the two of you in the center of the dance floor, nursing the glasses in your hands. You look up at him, entirely lost from your train of thought, as he eyes the liquid. 
“Do you want to?” Eren asks. 
“I don’t know. Do you want to?” 
“It’s been a while since I’ve drank. And really, I only choose not to drink because I always seem to be around people that I’d feel uncomfortable losing my inhibitions around. But it’s just you and me and you’re basically one of the only people I could drink around. I don’t think a little wouldn’t hurt, I guess.” 
You nod, following his lead. Your moment to say your piece had passed already. 
“Okay. Okay, yeah.” 
You both lift the glasses to your lips and sip. 
--
Eren has to carry you back into the house. Because true to your previous statement, wine did make you really sleepy – and two bottles of it has you curled up into his lap in the back of the car. 
Eren can feel his heart beating fast, the sensation blooming in his chest as he tries to steady his breaths. He absentmindedly runs his hands through your hair, running his finger over the sole braid tucked behind your ear. 
He doesn’t think about it very well, but he leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. Eren figures that he must have leaned too close because it has you rousing from your sleep, only nuzzling into his chest even more. 
“Are we home yet, Eren?” 
He can feel his chest tightening. 
“No, sweetheart. Almost, okay?” 
“Okay. Okay, just take me in with you, alright?” you mumble. 
Eren saves his retort about how he’d never leave you behind for when you’re awake, just so he could make sure that you’d actually remember it. And five minutes later, he’s left standing on the gravel with you, as you lean almost all of your weight into his side. 
Every move he makes has you losing your balance, almost toppling to the ground. 
“Hey. Can you lock your arms around my neck?” 
You give him a halfhearted mumble before following his instructions, only to feel him hook his arms underneath your legs and shakily walk you towards the door. You can tell that he’s stumbling a little bit – not walking straight as he almost backs up into the wall as he walks in. 
The two of you must have had too much to drink. Because as Eren walks straight up the stairs, he aims so horribly that he smacks your head straight into the wall and curses after the fact. 
“Eren.” you hiss. 
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see the wall.” 
You groan in response. 
“Look out for it next time.” 
Eren scathes his way to the hallway to his room, which he kicks open before leading you in. You all but collapse on his bed face first as he leans against the wall – groaning from how dizzy he was getting. Luckily for him, he had thought ahead to lay out clothes for himself – and that he overthought so much that there was a second pair too. 
Eren walks over to the bed, placing one of his hands on your shoulder as he shakes. 
“Y/N.” 
No response. 
“Y/N. You can’t sleep in your pretty dress.” he whispers. 
“Tired.” you respond, voice mumbled. 
“Here. I’ll help you change, just work with me.” 
Eren holds one of his hands out to you, which you take. He uses it to pull you up until you’re leaning against him, head lolled against his shoulder and his hands on your waist stabilizing you. Eren secures his hand around your face and you lean into the touch as he looks down at you, eyes side. 
“Work with me here.” Eren whispers. 
“Okay.” 
“I’m going to help you with the zipper on your dress. Just slide the shirt that I left on the side, I-I’ll close my eyes.” 
You shrug. 
“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to close your eyes.” 
“What?” 
“I don’t know. Is that weird? It…it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. And…and I’m not…I don’t know what I’m saying.” 
Eren gives you a nod before he guides you to turn around, fixing his shaking hands on the zipper as he starts pulling it down. Eren can feel his breath hitch in his throat as he turns his head away, trying to banish the thought of the fabric pooling at your legs on the floor, at the small dip in your back that he always seemed to think about. 
He can feel you tugging at his arm and he turns back to find you drowning in one of his old t-shirts, as you look up at him. 
“Are you cold? I have pants you can wear or…or an extra blanket and I –” 
“No. No, it’s okay.” 
Eren didn’t really ask for the help, maybe because he was a little bit more awake than you, but he doesn’t stop you when you reach forward and start unbuttoning his shirt. Eren can tell that it’s more difficult for you than it would have been for him, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to stop you. 
Eren pulls the shirt off and discards it to the side, before turning around to unbutton his pants and switch into his boxers. 
“You…you don’t have to wear a shirt. If you still don’t.” you state. 
Eren can feel his cheeks burning. 
“You sure?”
“I actually don't want you to. That’s why I mentioned that.” 
You’re definitely drunk, Eren thinks. 
“And why’s that?” 
“I like feeling close to you. There’s nothing between my ear and your heart when I lean against you.” you mumble. 
Eren can feel his heart constrict – even more than it was before – when you look up at him now, the glitter smeared around your eyes. And he’s not sure what it is, but there’s tears accumulating in your eyes, replacing the sweetness in his chest with concern. 
“Eren.” you whimper. 
“What? What is it?” 
You swallow hard. You lean your hands against his chest, before pressing your cheek to his chest. 
“I love you so much.” 
Eren frowns, before leaning his chin against the top of your head. 
“That’s nothing to cry about, princess. I love you too.” 
You shake your head, bringing your hands up to your cheeks as you squeeze hard on the skin. 
“No. No, I love you, Eren.” you whisper. 
“Y/N. You…you’re drunk.” 
You frown. 
“You don’t believe me?” 
“I do. But I…I don’t know if it’s because you’re drunk. You might change your mind in the morning.” Eren states. 
You shake your head.
“Eren. Eren, you’re everything to me.” 
You look up at him, reaching to tuck the ends of his hair behind his ear, as you feel your voice shake. 
“I saw Mikasa and Jean and I just…I just knew more than I already did before that I want it to be me and you. I want us to write songs together, I want to wake up next to you, I want to give you haircuts in our bathtub.” 
Eren smiles. 
“Haircuts?” 
“I love your hair short. Just a little bit shorter than it is now, because…because it looks like your hair when I fell in love with you. I’ve been falling since then and I just need you to crawl down into this hole and be here with me, Eren.” you mumble. 
Eren sighs. 
“I’d do anything you asked me to. But, but I need you to say it to me tomorrow, when…when you’re being serious.” 
“I am serious. Eren, there’s no love in the room if you aren’t in it with me.” 
Eren has no words. He has to stumble something out – something because you’re looking at him so expectantly with your doe eyes like you’re waiting for him to give in. 
“Still.” 
You nod, as you stand on the tips of your toes to tuck yourself into the neck. 
“Can you give me one thing, Eren?” 
“What?” 
“Will you kiss me? Just once?” you ask. 
Eren pulls back, eyes weary as he looks down at you. 
“I don’t want to take advantage of you. You, you’re…” 
“I want to kiss you. I messed up our second kiss while we were filming because I wanted to kiss you so bad I forgot we were working. I think about it all the time. I want it so bad and I just –” 
Eren leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. You can still taste the remnants of the wine on his lips and he’s breathing shakily into your mouth as he cradles your face in his hands. 
You can feel your heart somersault when he smiles into the kiss, when he presses two, three, and four more to the side of your face. You drop your hands from his neck to his back, the raised skin of the scars on his back underneath your fingers as he presses kisses down your neck. 
“Eren.” 
“Sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Too much. We have to go to bed because you’re drunk and I…I can’t do this if you’re drunk and I am too and it…” 
You nod. 
“You’re right. Just…just let me sleep here with you?” you ask. 
“Come on.” 
Eren walks around to the other side of the bed, not without walking straight into the wall first, before he climbs under the sheets with you. And it’s the last thing he remembers before he goes to sleep – you wrapping your leg around him and pressing a kiss right on top of his heart before he goes to bed. 
--
When you wake up in the morning, Eren’s spot in the bed is empty. And you only see him an hour later, when you’re able to reel from what happened last night and see him in the kitchen. 
There’s ten different people milling around the kitchen. Erwin and Historia, Connie and Falco throwing a football, and Sasha taste testing Niccolo’s coffee. But all you see when you walk in is Eren, who just gives you a small wave. 
You feel the rejection sting as you offer it back and take the spot next to him. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi.” 
“Happy last day of filming. Well, not for us, but…you..you know what I meant.” he states. 
You feel your heart drop. He doesn’t remember last night. 
“You too, Eren.”
--
an: oh ladies and gentleman are we ready. ARE WE READY BC CONFESSION NEXT CHAPTER AND IM SO FRRRR. not proofread maybe ill do it tomorrow if I feel strongly enough about it.
also taylor as gojo, bsfs older brother sukuna, and method acting in three days. aka. I CRY A LOT BUT I AM SO PRODUCTIVEEEE ITS AN ART (no I don't I just though this joke was funny)
alsOOOO as I wrap things up I remember someone mentioned wanting some MA chapters from eren's perspective but I can't for the life of me think about which one's would be good for that. the main one that comes to mind is when y/n gets stranded and eren comes to her rescue with ricky LOL. anyways im open to ideas.
taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol l @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami i @florichun @hoonmyluv
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randomdragonfires · 3 days
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If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 4
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Chapter 4 | Right Where You Left Me
SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.
Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.
WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY; Slow burn, I think?
WORD COUNT | 3.4k
Text Divider by @saradika-graphics
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The days passed by in a quiet, green haze.
The cave where she had been made to stay shouldn’t have provided her with as much solitude as it did, given her circumstances. But with each passing moment, she found herself healing, growing stronger, and seeing as clearly as the blue sapphire that now haunted her dreams. She embraced the quietness of it all, allowing her situation to wash over her as she came to terms with it.
She had run, and she hadn’t made it. The claw marks and gashes all over her form were definite proof. In these last few days, she had been too weak to move. She felt pain with every weak movement in her limbs, ensuring her captivity for a longer period of time. But in the time that had passed as she recovered, one thing was constant.
The nightmares, and him.
Night after night, she found herself ensnared in a labyrinth of nightmares, each more vivid and terrifying than the last. In the darkness of her dreams, the snarling beast lurked, its eyes gleaming with malice as it bore down upon her with relentless fury. She would awaken with a start, her heart pounding against her chest as she gasped for air, drenched in cold sweat. The cave around her offered no solace, its walls closing in like the jaws of the predator she’d been trying to escape in her dreams.
In her tired state of mind, she thought she had imagined his warm palm on her forehead, checking for a fever. Had she imagined his mumbled Valyrian whispers too? Ēdrugon sȳrī, mandianna, she had heard, his voice as mellifluous as the calm waters of the stream outside. [Sleep well, niece.]
She had always loved listening to him speak.
At first, his presence was a comfort, his soothing words a balm to her frayed nerves. He would speak to her in hushed tones, murmuring smooth Valyrian into her ears as she struggled to comprehend the light touch of his moving lips on her skin. And when words failed, he would hold her close, his arms a sanctuary against the dreams that threatened to consume her.
Nyke paktot kesīr, he would say. Ao sagon rūsīr issa. [I’m here now… you’re with me.]
But as the nights wore on, confusion crept into her heart, clouding her thoughts like a dense fog. His touch, once a source of uninhibited, fanciful love, now stirred something unfamiliar within her, a longing and heaviness that she could not name. She would lie awake, breathing and panting in the silence of the cave, her mind awash with questions that had no answers.
Was it his gentle touch that set her soul ablaze, or was it merely the anger at being ripped away from her beloved in the middle of the night? How did it come to this? How did he end up becoming the very safety that she sought to gain by running far and away from him? She could not say, and so she clung to him like a lifeline, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace. What else could she do?
Those were the thoughts that consumed her as she sat up, her body sore as she grunted in pain. She sat up for the first time in what she assumed could only be days, and managed to stand up too. She braced herself with a hand on the slippery cave wall, her eyes landing on the mountain of discarded bandages - covered presumably in her own blood.
She closed her eyes shut and tried to get a grip on her surroundings once more - it seemed that no matter how many times she had tried, she couldn’t come to terms with being brought to the jungle by a man who made her heart rush to wherever he touched her - no matter his intentions to hurt her family.
Are you ashamed of me, mother? For wanting him despite it all? For never stopping?
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, determined to wrestle back control from the haunting memories that threatened to take her for all she was worth. At first, all she could hear were the echoes of that harrowing encounter - the guttural snarls of the boar and the piercing screams - both his and hers - that tore through the air.
No, no, no.
But she refused to let fear hold her captive any longer. Slowly, she forced her mind to shift its focus, reaching beyond the darkness that threatened to suffocate her. Gradually, the noises of her nightmares began to fade, replaced by the gentle sounds of the forest - the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the melodious chirping of birds, and the soothing murmur of the stream of water trickling nearby. Before she knew it, the water had called to her and she walked slowly before stepping inside.
The sting of the wounds from initial contact faded and gave way to a relaxing sensation that made her skin tingle. Her shift billowed in the water, and she let herself breathe before she lifted her head up to breathe. She kept up these motions until she raised her head up to find that Aemond had come back, from wherever he’d gone. His presence, though familiar, sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through her veins, stirring something deep within her.
His expression was one that she knew all too well; there was no mistaking the lust in his eyes as they simply stared at each other, unmoving. In the calmness of her mind, it was easy to forget the weight of their shared history, to lose herself in the fantasy of a time long before the war had torn them apart. Every stolen kiss, every tender touch—it all rushed back to her in a dizzying whirlwind of emotion, threatening to consume her with its intensity.
If she were to beckon him to her right now, would he come? Should she?
The question lingered in the air, heavy with anticipation and uncertainty. But before she could find the words to speak, he was the first to look away, breaking the spell that had held them captive. With a heavy sigh, she watched as he turned away, the distance between them stretching like an unbridgeable chasm. And in that bittersweet moment, she knew that some things were better left unsaid, some desires left unfulfilled. For as much as she yearned for his touch, she also knew the pain that lay in its wake—the shattered dreams, the broken promises.
One moment she wanted to see him die, and the next, her heart would tear itself apart with how much it wanted him. She hated this, not knowing how she felt about him.
But didn’t she?
He set up a fire and sat on a log, staring into the fire like it held all the answers. What did he hope to see?
When the water went from being calming to making her feel cold, she stepped out, damp clothes sticking to her form as she walked, resembling a Goddess come to life. She took her seat next to him, hugging her knees tight as she leaned forward to take in the warmth. She breathed in the smoky smell of the fire, goosebumps rising from the heat of the fire and his gaze, now focused on her.
“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”
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Winterfell was beginning to feel less like a foreign land and more like a place she could learn to love and call home.
She had taken her time familiarizing herself with every nook and corner without intruding on what she wasn’t meant to see in her capacity as a guest. If the war ends in her mother’s favor, she knows she’ll soon be Lady of this castle - no longer a guest. She had walked around the gardens, taken her time with the Godswood, gone down to visit the kitchens, and strolled on the grounds countless times. She had made friends, people she loved to speak to and smile at every day; those who made this uncertain time much more bearable as she tried to push horrid thoughts about her family at war to the back of her mind.
And him.
Finding no answers to her confusions as to why Aemond would draw first blood by killing the brother of the woman he loved, her mind raced much too fast for her convenience. She knew why, though, deep down. She simply refused to believe it.
Believing it would mean coming to terms with the fact that he had given up on her. On them.
While she chose not to trust her mind, her heart was a lot more fickle. Lord Stark had been perfectly gracious and treated her with all the gentleness worthy of a Princess and a future wife. It was a calmer, happier, and much less doubtful relationship than the one she had with Aemond. It was steady, and it was hers now.
This would all be hers. Lord Stark would rule the Keep, and she would rule him. He was hers, and he made sure she had no doubts about the same.
The thought did not make her feel as bad as it used to. This would be her way of moving on with her life and doing her part to ensure her mother’s victory. Cregan brought her a satisfaction of doing things right that Aemond did not. She never had to doubt him or herself with this man. Lighter feelings of infatuation clouded her mind as she walked to the library, her purposeful stride taking her to where her future husband sat.
The scent of old parchment hung heavy in the air as she found herself closer to where he was, mingling with the subtle aroma of beeswax polish that adorned the wooden tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. At the heart of the library stood a grand fireplace, its crackling flames casting a warm glow that bathed the room in a soft, golden light. And right next to it, he sat in a wooden chair, elbow on the armrest as he held his face up by the chin. He looked worse for wear and dejected, and it pained her to see.
What was it about her that she only ever ended up with men who chose to brood like there was no tomorrow?
She stood by the arch, leaning to the side as she debated disturbing him when he seemed like he’d much rather be left alone. As she decided to step out and read while waiting for him to come out on his own accord, she heard his heavy voice call after her.
“Princess.”
“My lord.” She couldn’t possibly leave now, so she walked in, steps as quiet as the man himself. She took to standing in front of him, her figure forming a dark silhouette as she blocked the hearth from his view. He leaned forward and took her hands in his, and she was startled by how huge they were in comparison to hers. Aemond’s hands were beautiful in an obviously otherworldly Targaryen way, with nimble, dexterous fingers; Cregan’s were unabashedly huge and well-worked yet warm, just like him.
She would learn to stop comparing them soon. It would not be long. Damned mind and heart, forever at war.
He’d had to execute a Night’s Watch deserter today - the Northerners pass their own sentences, she’d been told. “I heard you’ve had a taxing day. I thought I’d…” It seemed silly to her now to think her presence would lighten him up given the circumstances. She turned to look at the path she’d walked through, nervous at her thoughts of inadequacy as she thought of a suitable excuse to walk away without feeling embarrassed. But it seemed that there was no need.
“I killed a man today. Swung Ice heavy and clean into his neck… and now, I hold the most beautiful woman in the realm with the very same hands.” He talked as though he was speaking to himself rather than her - there was a certain absent-mindedness about him that endeared him to her - or was it his way of showing that his mind was preoccupied?
“Aye, good fortune is shining upon me.”
She smiled, never considering that her presence could bring about that level of comfort to a man who seemed much more put together than she. Her gaze was half-lidded as she looked down at him, his head leaning forward to rest his forehead upon their conjoined hands.
“What’s it like?” She regretted the words immediately after they tumbled out, knowing very well that she was throwing into his face the very subject that he probably wished to forget.
“Do you really want to know? It is a topic unsuited for a woman of your gentle nature, Princess.”
“If you want to speak, I want to listen.”
She did not miss his somber smile, making it clear to her that he appreciated her company more than he let on - for now, that was enough. “When men pledge themselves to the Night’s Watch, it is an oath for life. It is a matter of keeping your word, of honor. And when you’ve proved that your word means little and less, you’ve disrespected those you swore to protect. When this happens… as their liege lord, it is my place to punish them for it. It is not something I take pride in, but it needs to be done. One cannot put off justice for too long. Never.”
“Does it always have to be you swinging the sword?”
“Aye. ‘Tis only respectful to the man losing his life, regardless of his fallacies.”
She nodded, understanding his reasoning, and grateful that he’d seen fit to let her understand. Most would dismiss her, saying it did not fall under a lady’s purview - but he didn’t, and she appreciated that more than he knew.
For a moment, they stayed together in silence. He only got warmer with each passing moment, a feeling of comfort in the cold air that she’d grown accustomed to. “I am grateful… that it’s you,” she said. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve by saying it, but she did anyway.
“I’m glad you’re happier, Princess. I…” She found doubt in his eyes as he debated whether or not to say the words, but she wordlessly encouraged him to go ahead by squeezing his hands in her hold. “Your brother told me that your loyalties are… divided; that you will need time to accept me. I am glad that you are.”
She tensed at the mention of her affections for Aemond, but she was quick to let it pass. She would not entertain her heart’s pull towards the man who killed her brother - she would not. Here sat a good man with the patience of a maester - she would learn to be worthy of his affections.
Almost as though he sensed her train of thought, he pulled her right back to where he was. “Princess?”
She smiled, a tired smile of resignation as she found herself grateful at the hand she’d been dealt. A time of war, where well-bred men were turned into murderers - and somehow, the Gods saw fit to give this good man to her. She was thankful, and by the Gods, she would learn to love him well.
“I’m happy too.”
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“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”
She refused to look at him. Her eyes were trained on the fire, the blaze blinding her for a moment until she turned to look the other way to escape the heat-induced tears in her eyes. She felt the dampness of her form and clothes dissipate with each passing moment, and she let her throat bob as she allowed herself to calm down.
“As long as it takes.” His voice was devoid of any emotion at all, and she was struck by how hard it was for her to read him through his words - it wasn’t like this before. She used to be able to make out his emotions from the simplest of words or noises, but now it was as though she was made to face a stranger. But then again, she didn’t know this man. The Aemond she knew and loved was not battle-tested and war-worn; he was a scholarly achiever who took more pride in himself than his spoils. How could she understand him if she did not know him at all?
“And you see no other way to exact revenge? He’s…” The weight of her words overwhelmed her, and she could not bring herself to complete the sentence.. Here she was, abducted at night from where her mother thought she’d be safe, by the man whom she once upon a time believed would protect her - eventually, both Winterfell and Aemond had led to her current state.
“The war is over, uncle. The realm is slowly getting back up and the lords are working towards peace once more. Must you truly be so vengeful? Undo all the work that is being done?” The anger and tension was palpable, with her not being able to contain herself. The more she spoke, the more she knew that all of what he did was unnecessary - but then again, this entire Dance was unnecessary, was it not? “Cregan is good to me. He’s a good man and he cares about Westeros, he cares about making Aegon a worthy King despite all the poor child has been through-”
“No amount of goodness can change the fact that Cregan Stark did not pledge allegiance to the rightful king.”
“The rightful king? Grandfather declared my mother the rightful heir long before Aegon was even born -”
“Before he was born! When he was born, she lost every right to the Iron Throne. A much more sensible woman would have stepped away, but my sweet sister -”
“It was HER RIGHT!”
“It was never hers and it was certainly not yours or your bastard brothers' to claim!” With words exchanged and thrown at each other like weapons, her hands had been animatedly moving about as was her habit. But she froze at those last words. She knew very well that he had too, if the sudden hitching of his breath was any indication.
He wouldn’t apologize, that much she knew. He was much too proud and condescending about his otherworldly and striking Targaryen features to apologize to her - for she knew very well what she was, even if nobody else would openly admit to it.
A bastard.
Her mind was a mess as she looked at him, at a loss for words. The spell had shifted, they weren’t bickering as they used to any longer. In the silence, a moment suspended in time, she looked at him - really, truly, looked.  
And there sat a boy. Not a battle-tested man who was now a hidden fugitive, but a boy. The boy that she’d known and loved. How much longer could they possibly hold on to grudges that neither had inflicted upon each other? The war had broken them, gotten them to drift apart - but where did it end?
Her heart ached as she beheld him, recognizing the boy she had once known beneath the bitterness and resentment that time and circumstance had piled upon him. The lines etched into his face told stories of battles fought and losses endured, but his eyes betrayed the weariness of a soul weighed down by burdens too heavy to bear alone.
He was tired. 
He was depressed, hungry for revenge and angry, but in close vicinity, as her hand reached up to let her fingertips graze over his eyepatch, she could not help but think. This was her Aemond. She’d waited for him to take her away, and in a cruel twist of fate, they ended up here.
In the dim glow of twilight, her voice, a tantalizing whisper, wrapped around him like a spell. "I haven't ever seen you without your eyepatch. You never let me." Each word, a delicate lure, tugged at something deep within her; a longing that she had never quite moved on from, but scarcely dared to acknowledge in her time away from him.
If she leaned in just a bit more, she could kiss him. Would it be wrong to? Did he want her to? What was he thinking?
His hand closed around her wrist, holding her delicate touch in place over his concealed eye. With a weary exhale, he released a breath burdened with the weight of countless battles, etched into the lines of his weathered face.
How had she gone this far without him? 
Before she let her fleetingly powerful feelings take over her, she closed her eyes and walked away. In the distance, a lone wolf's mournful howl pierced the tranquil stillness of the forest, making for a haunting melody.
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chatsukimi · 1 day
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POV. STREATRACER!TOJI asks to borrow your last name.
.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・
“What do you mean you don’t want your last name printed on your uniform?”
Toji, your trust fund racer and favourite bet, shrugs. “Already said, I won’t race with the name Zen’in.”
You sit down at your desk. It’s after school, and you and the spoiled soon-to-be college reject are sitting in the classroom.
You throw your hands up. “But why? What’s bad about Zen’in?”
“Everything,” he deadpans.
Staring at the guy for a flat five seconds, you realise he won’t change his mind, or explain himself, which you should have expected from a guy going broke despite his millionaire family.
Toji props himself up on the desk beside yours, leaning on his knees as though thinking. A few seconds pass.
He offers, “why don’t I use yours?”
“My what?”
“Your last name,” he suggests, breezing through the prospect at horrifying speed. “It works. You’re sponsoring me anyways.”
You blink twice. Delayed reaction.
“What?!” you squeak out.
Toji smirks, leaning on his palm watching you. “What?” he repeats, playing innocent. He sports a smug look in his green eyes and even bothers to scan your notebook splayed out on your desk, reading your last name out loud to himself. “Nice.”
No. Not nice. They’ll assume you're- you're- your cheeks heat up.
He looks at you, bearing a smile that's all teeth. 'We could be cousins.'
The guy even dares to pat you on the shoulder at that. You shake him off. No one at the race would believe you two are related.
"No."
'No?' he echoes, cocking his head, tempting you to speak. 'What could we be then?'
"We can be... can be..." you think to yourself, before noticing his hands landing on your shoulder, massaging them like a habit. He's sauntered over from his chair.
Comforting, but still...
Bad habit.
Your heart stutters.
Baaad habit.
"Hm?" He chuckles when he sees you realise. "What would we be?"
You swallow, the small proximity between the two of you taking your mind on a field trip; him standing behind your seat and you, fidgeting your hands under the desk like crazy.
"Nothing."
He raises an eyebrow.
"I don't think taking your last name means nothing," he presses, serious.
How is he saying this with such a straight face? You're looking anywhere in the classroom but Toji, hoping he might just drop the subject. What's wrong with his last name anyways? What is he even insinuating? Does he really-
"I don't think I'll get tired of that face in ten years' time," he states.
Toji Zen'in is a blunt guy. When he said he hates his last name, he meant it. When he says he wants yours, well, no one's calling this guy a liar, are they?
It's been a while since you started sponsoring his races, and he's grown accustomed to your face in the stands. Always too far away, though. You always have on that dispassionate expression as a gambler, as though he's one of the rest.
For once, he cannot be just one of the rest.
“I'm... not sure what you mean." Your eyes move to the sunset outside, ignoring the way you bite your lip.
He studies your face for a minute before smirking again. "You're dabbling in illegal motorsports and can't look me in the eye."
You wince.
You murmur, "well then maybe you should say directly what you mean then."
You're so cute like this, pretending you don't like him too.
He walks around the table to face you properly. All of a sudden you can imagine your name on his back as he gets into the vehicle to race, as the stands to hear the cheers of the crowd. He'd wear it well. He coughs to get your attention.
“I’m saying.” He places his hands on his hips, shrugging as he goes. “Maybe let's be married. Just one day.”
Only, he doesn't intend for it to be one day. He wants you to remember your last name on him, keep the moment in your head; he'll wear it better than anyone else.
It is at that moment when the times come out and the trophies are awarded that he drapes his arm around your waist. The wink he throws your way, accomplice. Spectators ask what's his name.
And this is the moment you become more than his financier or the bets you place on him to win.
He speaks it into the microphone, proud for the stadium, the world. to hear.
And this is the moment you glance up at him with more than just a shallow smile, saying 'congrats'.
The word reverberates over the race track in a powerful wave.
He spoke into the microphone and the name is yours.
pt. 1
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fluentmoviequoter · 21 hours
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Mom and Dad are Fighting Again
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!wife!reader
Summary: You and Tim become Lucy's station parents, and you show your care for her in different ways.
Warnings: fluff, brief angst, grumpy!Tim to softie!Tim, "mom and dad are fighting again" is a Castle reference
Word Count: 2.5k+ words
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“Bradford!” Wade calls.
“Which one?” you and Tim ask together.
Wade sighs, and Angela adds, “He’s tired just thinking about the conversation. That means he needs Tim.”
“Tim,” Wade clarifies. “Let the other Bradford help Chen prep the shop. I need to talk to you about something.”
“Ooh,” Angela and Lucy taunt.
You roll your eyes, but it is a bit like being called into the principal’s office. Luckily, Tim and Wade get along well. You tap Lucy’s shoulder and wave for her to follow you. After you sign for your gear, Lucy gets hers and Tim’s. Once you’re in the garage and your bag is in your shop, Lucy turns to you with a pout.
“If a Bradford had to be my TO, why couldn’t it have been you?” she asks.
“Tim is the best there is, Luce. I know he can be grumpy and push a little too hard, but I promise learning from him is worth it,” you reply.
“At least I have you to stand up for me.”
“Ah, so that’s why you wanted to be my friend.”
“We’re cops, not friends,” Tim interjects as he walks out of the doorway behind you. “Let’s go, boot.”
“We’re not friends,” Lucy murmurs under her breath. “Says the guy who’s married to another cop.”
“What was that?” Tim asks.
“Tim,” you warn gently.
You shake your head, and he takes a deep breath before getting in the driver’s seat. As you climb into your shop beside him, Lucy rolls her window down and gestures for you to do the same.
“Dad says he loves you,” she says with a wide smile.
“Chen!” Tim yells.
“I love him too. Be safe, both of you,” you call before pulling out.
“We need to talk about boundaries, Chen,” Tim grumbles.
“Better than not talking,” she argues.
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Tim leans against the side of the shop and stares straight ahead. It’s an interesting situation, but no matter how long he looks, he can’t decide what the best approach is. Lucy has spouted numerous ideas, and he’s vetoed each one.
“We could call for a lift truck,” she suggests as she paces on the sidewalk.
“Can’t get close enough,” Tim replies.
“Then you know what we have to do.”
Tim looks at Lucy, who now has her hands on her hips and a determined look.
“We have to call smarter reinforcements. Call Bradford,” she demands.
“I’m not calling my wife because we can’t- how could she even help?”
“She’s brilliant. You of all people have to know that.”
“Sounds like you should be running her fan club,” Tim complains.
“Having a hero isn’t wrong. If you don’t call her, I will.”
“And I’ll write you up.”
Lucy sighs and turns to look at the scene again. Tim runs through a few more ideas in his mind, but they all end in a worse situation than the current one. He sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“Hey,” he greets when you answer.
Lucy turns around quickly and claps quietly. Tim glares at her, but her excitement doesn’t diminish as he continues talking to you.
“Are you busy?” he asks.
“Just tell her we need help!” Lucy implores.
“Yeah, that’s Chen. And we do need help.”
Lucy pumps a fist over her head in victory. When Tim ends the call, though, she steps back and quiets.
A few minutes later, you park beside Tim’s shop and exit your car with a smile.
“Someone called for the cavalry?” you joke. “So, what’s so strange Tim Bradford had to call for backup?”
Tim doesn’t answer but grabs your waist and leads you to stand between him and Lucy. He points up through a gap in the trees and you follow his finger. Your responding “huh” does little to make Tim think you’ll have an easier time solving the problem.
“What am I supposed to do about it?” you ask.
Tim turns to glare at Lucy again, and she ducks behind you. You look at Tim from the corner of your eye and he accepts your silent reprimand and gives Lucy some space.
“Did you try to get up there?” you ask.
“No. There’s no good approach,” Tim answers.
“I thought we could climb onto the roof beside it for recon and find a way to reach it,” Lucy says. “Or maybe get a ladder truck in the yard.”
“Roof recon isn’t a terrible idea,” you agree. “Why didn’t you do that?”
“Because I don’t agree that it would get us any more information than we can get from the ground,” Tim explains.
“We can’t get to it from here, though,” Lucy argues. “This park is protected, and we can’t bring CSU out here to traipse all over it. That house is our best bet.”
“Chen, you are not in charge,” Tim snaps.
“Tim,” you warn softly. “Just hear her out.”
She’s my rookie. I don’t have to do anything she says.”
“I’m not saying to do exactly what she says, but you’re training her, not dictating her. Give her a chance to work this.”
Tim clenches his jaw and breathes out of his nose. The situation is stressful, you know, because every element of being a cop is. But Tim arguing with Lucy will only delay the inevitable.
“Please?” you add. “If her plan to scout from the roof doesn’t work, then I will call the park service and tell them to deal with it.”
“We don’t even know who owns that house.”
“One way to find out,” Lucy says.
You let Lucy take the lead and stand beside Tim on the porch as she talks to the owner of the home. He doesn’t seem inclined to let three police officers climb onto his roof to deal with something that he can’t see.
“I’m done talkin’ to ya,” he says before slamming the door in Lucy’s face. It opens a moment later and he adds, “One more thing.”
You can tell he’s prepared to do something stupid and pull Lucy back quickly. His fist misses her face by an inch, and you move her toward Tim before turning toward the homeowner. His second hit is luckier and lands against the side of your nose, but he’s not trained like you are. When you hit him in the same spot, he goes down hard and fast. You raise your hand to your face and immediately feel blood coming from your nose. There’s likely no real damage, just a busted blood vessel or two.
Lucy begins apologizing as Tim calls for backup and another unit to deal with the issue in the park. He returns his radio to his belt and lays his hands on your shoulders to look at you.
“We’re going back to the shop. Stay with him until backup gets here, Chen,” he commands.
“Yes, sir,” she answers quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Lucy,” you offer.
“We’ll discuss that later,” Tim interjects. “Let’s go.”
Tim keeps a hand on you during every step of the short walk back to the shop. He presses a wad of gauze under your nose and uses his other hand to tip your head slightly forward. When the top of your head hits his chest, you feel him sigh.
“What would you have done? If Chen wasn’t here?” he asks.
“I don’t know, Tim. A huge, gaudy murder confession nailed to a tree in a park is a new one. Park department wouldn’t have been much help, so it may have been one to pass off. Or trespass.”
Tim looks away from you when Lucy returns. You cover his hand to pull the gauze from your face, and when you see there’s no fresh blood, you rip pull an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit and clean the dried blood from your chin and Tim’s hand. Lucy waits silently, and now she looks like the one waiting to be called to see the principal.
“What were you thinking?” Tim demands when you release his hand. “You never just stand in front of someone’s door. If we hadn’t been there, or if he had opened the door with a knife, what would have happened, Chen?”
“It won’t happen again, sir.”
“You’re right it won’t! I don’t know why you refuse to listen to me or remember basic, common procedures, but it will get you killed, and I’m not going to let that happen. I will take your badge if this is the kind of police work you’ll do once you’re out on your own!”
“Tim!” you interrupt. “She messed up. We all have. Maybe let her prove that she learned something before you threaten her career.”
“No! I don’t want her on the streets alone. I don’t want to imagine what I’d hear if she was partnered with you someday.”
“Drop it,” you demand as you stand.
Your chest presses against Tim’s, and his eyes bore into yours. Lucy watches on with her hands pulled tightly behind her back and guilt in her eyes.
“Or what?” Tim asks.
“You’re making it about me. But you’re done yelling at Chen. Lucy, get in my shop, we’re all going back to the station.”
“For what?” Tim scoffs.
“To learn some human decency, apparently. And if you’re still acting like this when we get back, I’m taking Chen for the rest of the week.”
Tim watches you toss the keys to Lucy before she walks away. His brow furrows and you realize he thought you were leaving him to drive back with Lucy.
“You trust her to drive your shop?” he asks.
“What is this about?” you counter. “Because she was just in a bad place, which is the best that could have happened.”
“She doesn’t apply what she knows. Lucy is smart and she’s got instincts, but she gets excited and jumps too soon.”
“Then walk her through everything. Standing back and being a drill sergeant is only going to make her rush more.”
“When did you become an expert on being a TO?”
Tim smiles softly at you, and you pat his chest.
“Guess you’re teaching me, too.”
“Bradford,” Wade calls over the radio. “The guy you booked for assault on an officer is claiming that Chen harassed him. I need your body cams as soon as you return.”
Tim pulls the seatbelt too hard and locks it. You answer Wade that you’ll all be back with your cams shortly. After replacing the radio on the dash, you lay a hand on Tim’s arm and encourage him to take a deep breath.
“That’s not Lucy’s fault,” you remind Tim.
“It was her plan,” Tim responds.
“I agreed with it. Does that make me a terrible cop?”
“Of course it doesn’t, but this isn’t about you!”
“Then what’s it about?” you ask, your voice raising to meet his.
“I feel like I’m failing her and that’s why we keep ending up here!”
Tim huffs as he finishes, and you watch him carefully. His shoulders drop, and you want to hug him but know better than to try while he’s driving.
“You’re not failing her. But there is always room for improvement. Being a teacher doesn’t mean you can’t learn, too.”
“How do you trust her like this?”
“You said it yourself. She’s smart and has good instincts, but she needs a bit of room to learn and hone those skills without feeling pressured to be perfect.”
Tim nods, and you whisper an apology for yelling at him. He shakes his head, and you agree that he doesn’t need to apologize either.
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When you exit Wade’s office after surrendering your body cam and making your statement, you hear Angela ask Lucy where you and Tim are. Or, as you’re referred to at the station, The Bradfords.
“Oh, Mom and Dad are fighting again,” Lucy jokes.
“About you?” Angela asks, playing along but aware that Lucy isn’t completely wrong in her phrasing.
“What else?” Lucy counters.
“Chen, a word?” Tim asks as he moves around you.
You watch as he apologizes, and smile to yourself. Angela winks at you as she passes, and you join Tim and Lucy.
“Wade said I could stay with you two for the rest of shift. What are we up to?”
“We still have to deal with the murder confession in the trees,” Tim groans. “Hey, Nolan, have you dealt with a murder confession yet?”
Nolan shakes his head, and Tim looks around for Bishop. When he sees that she’s not close, Tim steps into Wade’s office and asks him to transfer the call to Nolan.
“Thanks, Officer Bradford!” Nolan replies happily.
“No problem,” Tim says.
Lucy hides her smile as she walks beside you. Every moment spent with her requires a level of parenting, and though you’re relatively close in age, you and Tim feel responsible for Lucy. As more than a cop. You show it in your own ways, but she knows how much she means to you and Tim and feels the same.
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During one of your very few days off, you want to surprise Tim with dinner. The recipe that you want has seemingly disappeared, though, and you’ll have to call Lucy to get it again. 
When her phone rings, and she answers, “Hey, Mom,” Tim shakes his head.
“No personal calls in my shop,” Tim says.
“You answer for her.”
Tim’s brows furrow until he realizes Lucy isn’t talking to her biological mom, but her station mom. He nods to let her know she can continue talking to you.
“Dad says hi,” she says, just to bother Tim.
“Dad says he needs a day off, too,” Tim grumbles.
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“Don’t you dare answer that,” Tim says against your lips. “Date night, not LAPD night.”
“It’s Luce,” you argue as you reach for your phone.
Tim catches your wrist and brings it to his lips to distract you. Your phone rings again, though, and Tim’s chimes with an incoming text. He releases your arm hesitantly and pulls you so he can lay his head against your shoulder.
“Hi, Luce,” you answer.
“Put me on speaker!” she requests happily.
“Alright. Tim and I are both here.”
“I passed my rookie exam! I know you’re both off today, but Sergeant Grey knew we couldn’t wait to hear the results. Thank you, both of you, so much!”
“Congratulations!” you and Tim say together.
“We’ll celebrate when we get back,” you add.
“I knew you could do it,” Tim says. “Good job, Lucy.”
“Okay, okay, I need to call my mom and tell her that she was wrong. Enjoy the rest of your time off.”
The line beeps as she ends the call, and you and Tim lock eyes.
“She called us first, didn’t she?” you ask.
“We really are turning into her parents,” Tim says with an exaggerated shudder.
“You look pretty good for a dad,” you tease. “And you care about Lucy no matter how much you pretend not to.”
Tim looks at you for a moment before asking, “You know Lucy’s real parents set the bar low, right?”
“Let me have this. She’s my daughter and she’s no longer a boot.”
Tim groans, but before you can tease him again, he pulls you down to continue kissing you. Until your phone begins buzzing nonstop with excited texts from Lucy, at least.
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Note
Hi! I’m not sure if this has been requested before but I’ve been working nonstop lately. I’m completely worn out and desperate for a day off. So, I was wondering how you think tangerine would react to this sort of situation with his gf/wife/partner- being very overworked, exhausted, tense, stressed, anxious? In need of some comfort, fluff, love and reassurance. -🤍
Thank you so much, I love you!!
hii!! im pretty sure it has, but that’s no problem. make sure to take care of yourself angel, really sorry you’re so tired, hopefully this can be of some comfort. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 I love you and hope you’re doing as well as you can be xx
ignore kimura’s hand 😭 the pic is just really hot
TAKE A BREAK.
tangerine x fem!reader — fluff & comfort
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word count. 637
Tangerine had noticed a change within you recently. Though it wasn't hard, anyone could.
He could see it in your eyes, the exuberant shine almost fading with every one of your early starts and late finishes. And those tired, half-smiles you'd give him when he questions it only prove his point more.
He knew you were under a lot of stress lately, everything in your life catching up with you, and all he wanted was to help you. Even if it was carrying your weight on his shoulders for a few minutes - anything just to give you a moment of ease.  
It had gone past midnight, but you were nowhere close to finishing the massive assigned workload. The dining table filled with stacks of your papers, the surface repurposed as an office desk once again. By now, the words on the page were far from legible, the lines blurring and swirling together as you pushed through the last section.
"I don't get it," you mutter to yourself, dropping your head into your hands. 
"What don't you get?" Tangerine asks, appearing in the doorway as if he were a genie.
"I don't know," you mumble, rubbing your face in your palms. "All of it... it doesn't make sense— none of it does. And I've been reading it over and over and," you cut yourself off with a sigh, looking over the array of papers in front of you. 
"Come on, now," he hushes, moving across the room to stand in front of you. "You're knackered. You need good sleep," he adds, placing his hands on either side of your head, making you face him. 
"I can't. I have so much to do," you faintly exhale - the sound weary and worn down. 
His thumbs glide under your eyes, the pads running over the dark circles and tired skin - the act as if he were trying to soothe you. "I'll help you out in the morning, alright? But not now. You need'a sleep."
"I can't," you softly shake your head, his hands moving with the faint movement. "I can't sleep knowing how much work I have."
He sighs, his head cocking to the side to maintain the eye contact you were so desperate to get out of. "When you hurt, I hurt. And you're hurting a lot right now, aren't'ya?"
The lack of response from you, silently answers his question. 
"That's what I thought," he says, leaning over to press a kiss into your hairline. "I'll lock up. You go get ready for bed, yeah?" he laces his hands into yours, helping you from the seat. "I'll follow up in a minute."
You do as asked and get ready for bed, continuing the rest of your routine from a couple hours before - brushing your teeth and peeing, changing back into pyjamas. You get into your side of the bed, the comfort almost immediately soothing the aches in your body.
As promised, Tangerine follows closely behind, entering the bedroom with a glass of water in one hand and a pack of paracetamol in the other. He makes his way around the bed to your side, setting the glass and painkillers on your nightstand.
He gets in bed from his side, slipping under the covers, his arms instinctively reaching for you under them. He pulls you towards him, holding you tight. 
"Can you give me food poisoning tomorrow?" you attempt a joke, burying your face into his chest. 
"I'd rather throw myself down the stairs and break my legs and then sit in A&E all night so you could get the day off," he whispers, stroking over the back of your head.
"Might try that myself."
He presses a kiss into your cheek, tucking your face back into the comfort of his chest. "Enough now, get some sleep."
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shamrockqueen · 18 hours
Text
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Omega retreat : chapter 4
Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader
Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, General Discomfort, nothing is what it seems, fluff, heart ache
Word count : 2131
Masterlist
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He was very understanding when you asked him to give you time to think about his invitation. It was the turning point you hoped to avoid just a little longer, appreciating instead that you could be just like any other normal girl. Yet, some things couldn't be left on the back burner.
The untouched notification continued to light up your inbox, no doubt just being the website’s way of ensuring their reservation went through and they would be paid.
You turned over to look at your phone and the little banner still sitting at the top that said, “You’ve been invited to reserve a cabin by JAMES BARNES.”
It was fitting that he’d picked the Gold Package, and you had to admit, a sexy getaway was incredibly tantalizing.
Yet, everything felt rushed, and you knew exactly why. You knew you were always going to give in, but ever since that conversation at the hospital, you wanted so badly for every choice to at least be your own. Something you wanted to do, not be coerced by circumstances.
You told yourself every second after you’d logged into your computer, your eyes still heavy with broken sleep, that this was still your decision. Accepting the invite would be your decision, no matter what reason you had to make it.
With one simple click, it was done, a cascade of hearts flooding the screen as their little mascot hopped around with joy. It was cute, yet still a little cheesy.
You set the computer aside before laying back on the bed and letting the small streaks of sun coming in from the window warm your skin. You felt so oddly relieved, yet still so anxious. It was a good start, better than what you had before.
A small ding sang through the peaceful morning, and once again you emerged from your little sheet cocoon to grab your phone from the nightstand. It was a message from Bucky, and he seemed as excited as ever to have gotten your confirmation.
‘Good morning :D’
You smiled at the message, feeling more relief spread through your tired body as you typed back.
‘Morning. I take it you got the notification.’
You watched as those three dots jumped inside the prospective chat bubble before two popped up at once.
‘I did indeed.’
‘You have no idea how happy this makes me.’
Everything he said always seemed to make your heart blossom with a new feeling of warmth. It really put into perspective how tiring all that stress and anxiety really was when it finally started to disappear.
Expressing his eagerness through text must not have been enough for him, as the phone buzzed to life in your hand before you could type another reply.
You didn’t hesitate to answer it, and your belly fluttered at the low rumble of his voice as it sang through the speaker.
“Hey, doll”
“Hi. You miss me already?”
You heard him chuckle softly, probably smiling at the bashful tone in your voice. “I hope I’m not coming on too strong.”
“No! I think it’s really sweet.”
It was nice to have someone care this much about your needs, especially above their own. It was someone who wanted to take care of you at what may well be your weakest.
You hear him clear his throat for a second, shaking the sweet and sugary vibe that the conversation had started on. “Do I have the date right? If not, then I can fix the reservation..”
“No, you remembered very well. I’m actually surprised.”
“I guess I’m just excited.”
“That makes two of us; I’m practically shaking in my boots.”
He laughed back at your goofy little retort, and you giggled nervously along with him.
“I was kind of afraid you’d say no.” His voice seemed to fall again as he spoke, giving you a glimpse of a few insecurities of his own. “Like, maybe I scared you away.”
“As if.” You laughed it off immediately, bemused at the thought that he’d consider himself anything more than the teddy bear he’d shown you.
“I needed some time to take it in for a second. I just felt so much in the moment, ya-know.” You smiled down at the phone as you spoke, hoping you could melt his fears just as he did yours. “Believe me, you're not scary one bit.”
You swear you could feel the laugh he’d let out as you chuckled with him.
He’d talked to you for hours, showering you with compliments as he finalized the details of your trip.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to take that time off? It is pretty soon.” You stepped around your kitchen, looking for a mug to pour some coffee into. Bucky watched your shapely form as it moved across his screen, smiling to himself before you turned back to the phone and caught his eyes wondering.
The conversation had since evolved into a video call, letting you see the actual smile on his face. There would be glimpses of the rough grain in his facial hair and the deepening blue of his eyes, but there were finer details that you couldn’t see.
You wanted to see so much more, and soon you will. That thought alone made you feel so much happier.
He brushed his hair back with his fingers, leaving a thick lock behind his ear and a few strands to fall back across his forehead and cheek.
“I’ll be just fine; help to be your own boss.”
“Oh? Big boss, man, huh?”
He huffed a chuckle before he spoke back, “A story for another time, but I’ll tell you now it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
You gave him a little pout.
“What about you?” He asked, in a clear attempt to redirect the conversation back to the original question.
“Oh, I always get my heat off. It’s kinda like that for Omega’s.”
You were more than lucky to work in an environment that was so welcoming to people like you, and you were sure that your supervisor would understand.
“Makes sense..” You watched his eyes wander from the screen as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. It looked so out of date that it was no wonder why he only used the webcam on his computer.
“Nice flip phone, grandpa.”
He laughed back at you with “gee thanks, doll” before tossing down the bad news. “I gotta go.”
“Awe, already.”
“Yeah, nothing like a work emergency on a Saturday.” You watched him toss the phone on his desk offscreen before turning back to you. “I can’t wait to see you, Omega.”
“I can’t wait either, Alpha.” You felt his eyes shift as you spoke, as if finally hearing you say his denomination so diffidently.
You tapped the red button on the phone screen, ending the call before you turned it off and set it aside.
By mid-afternoon, you’d since decided to knock out a few of your household chores. You were already elbow deep in some soapy dishwater when you heard another familiar ringtone. You fumbled for the dish towel nearby to dry your pruney fingers before grappling with your phone.
You accepted the call and called back a sweet greeting to one of your favorite people.
“Hi, mom.”
“Hi sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a few days..” Her concern was sweet, but you were quick to cut her short, not wanting another reminder of the previous incident.
“I’m fine, mom.”
She sighed back, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I know.”
“Any news?” Her voice lightened, truly hoping there would have been an update on your condition and even more so that it was promising.
There was plenty of news, wonderful news that you weren’t ready to break to your worrisome mothers just yet.
Better now than never, it seemed, “I met someone.”
“Oh?”
She didn’t sound happy, and every second afterward that she left you in silence made your once-airy mood deflate.
"He's uh...He’s an alpha.” Your jaw only tightens further as you wait for an answer back. Anything would be better than another ‘oh?’
“Well, that’s nice. W-where did you two..meet?” Her discomfort was never easily hidden, but at least she was trying.
“We met on this dating site, and we’ll be spending some time together soon.”
“I see. So is it a date to a cafe or dinner?”
“We’re going away for...." You struggled to find the words, "...it’s just this vacation rental somewhere quiet and calm.”
“Oh, a getaway. Sounds nice, but... you know your cycle will be coming soon. It’s probably best to be careful.”
“I-I'll be taken care of..."
“Are you sure? I can always be there to take care of you in case of another emergency.”
You felt your stomach tighten a little as she spoke.
“That’s actually why we’ll be out of town.” Your toes shifted along the floor, carting you to the fridge so you could grip the handle to better hold yourself upright.
She didn’t answer back right away, only giving you a weak “you can’t do that.”
It made the blood freeze in your veins, leaving your body tense against the refrigerator. “Mom..”
“Do you have any idea what might happen to you all that way from home?”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“The hell you do. You can’t do this. I can’t lose you.”
She seemed to spiral nearly as badly as you did.
“If I go through another heat without a partner, you fucking will lose me.” You nearly wailed as you yelled back into the phone, only to be met with a few moments of dead air.
It made the frantic beat of your heart seem louder and louder. Proof that no matter how calm the waters felt, you couldn’t escape the truth that swam beneath them.
“Sweetheart, I only want you to be safe.”
You knock your head back against the fridge before letting your body slide along the side of it, letting the newly mounting anxieties drag you down to the floor. “I’m not safe alone, mom.”
“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to wait for all this, and it’s not fair.” Her voice was just as weak as yours was now.
“It’s fine; I need to grow up sometime.” You said back, pulling your knees to your chest. You didn’t want to wallow in this disparity anymore; you were so sick of it all. It takes a single thought—a glimmer of hope shining through the dark clouds that have begun to circle around you.
You thought of Bucky.
“B..James’ is nice; I think you’d like him.” You had to quickly correct yourself, knowing his nickname had been sweet to you but could seem silly to others. You still remember the abashed laugh you gave when he first told you.
“I…good, that’s good.”
You knew that wasn’t what she wanted to say, and now you weren’t afraid to say it instead.
“You think you’d like him more if you’d gotten to meet him.”
“I didn’t say that, but yes.” You hear her voice wavering as she speaks. “I’m glad, though, that he’s nice. I hope you have fun on your trip.”
“Thank you, mom.”
“Please be safe, sweetheart. I love you.”
You sighed for a second before telling her you loved her too, and the call came to an end. You were still hugging your knees, nearly curling in on yourself in your kitchen. The floor was uncomfortable, and you finally unfolded yourself and pushed off of it. You missed the careless feeling you’d had while talking to Bucky, lamenting how easily your mood had dipped like a sinking ship.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair at all. Just when you thought you could escape the anxiety, it rounded its ugly head around each corner. Well, this time you wouldn’t be taking it lying down anymore.
You used this new momentum to spur yourself through the house and towards your bedroom. You bolted for your closet, determined now only to look ahead to your chance to get away from it all. You tore through your hung clothes, wanting to find anything that could impress your perspective, Alpha.
You found yourself leafing through more khaki shorts than you’d realized you’d owned. Faded sundresses and worn-out old sandals littered the pile, along with plain cotton panties in contrast to any lacy lingerie.
You still had a long way to go before you truly felt comfortable in your own skin. But certainly, a little shopping could do some good too.
There was a fire in your belly, burning you forward like an angry locomotive.
It will be a cold day in hell before anyone takes this opportunity away from you.
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Tag list : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault
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