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#beneath the stars 100
endlessthxxghts · 1 month
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Solace
Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k
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Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.
Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx
A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.
MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG
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“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form. 
“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes. 
“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it. 
“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”
Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand. 
You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it. 
“Din?” you called out softly. 
He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down. 
“Everything okay?”
“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.
“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.
You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you. 
You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully. 
“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 
Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat. 
“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine. 
Oh, he’s starting to break, already? 
The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.
“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades. 
“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily. 
Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull. 
“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face. 
“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment. 
Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper. 
His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you. 
Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt. 
The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless. 
Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.
He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop. 
By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.
“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in. 
You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him. 
He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly. 
Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive. 
He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch. 
You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it. 
“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs. 
With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants. 
His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots. 
He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway. 
“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice. 
You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp. 
Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing. 
You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations. 
You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly. 
His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”
You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.” 
“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight. 
“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”
You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more. 
You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.
“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter. 
His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose. 
Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay. 
You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now. 
You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine. 
“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.” 
Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move. 
“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.” 
“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?” 
“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter. 
The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you. 
With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish. 
“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you. 
“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer. 
Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”
He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers. 
“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”
He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him. 
“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far. 
Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all. 
Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way. 
As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces. 
“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other. 
“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space. 
“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh. 
He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself. 
“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”
“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax. 
Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves. 
The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess. 
He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck. 
The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down. 
“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt. 
“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.
“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”
“Sounds like a deal, baby.”
“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher. 
In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself. 
You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”
“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”
“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed. 
“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”
Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."
Oh. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
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End notes:
Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶
Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭
Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶
@pedrostories
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verstarppen · 7 months
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summary; there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work
pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!!! y'all im not even gonna lie to you, seeing hayden christensen as clone wars anakin rewired something in my brain also happy race week and danny ric comeback!!
[ series masterlist ]
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 294,492 others
yndeathtrooper face reveal if you even care
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landonorris i thought you were lando norris?
yndeathtrooper i go by many names
maxverstappen1 I'm not getting dragged into this!!!
yndeathtrooper im sorry mr world champion please forgive me landonorris stop dickriding him. yndeathtrooper im about to say something inappropriate, mr champion please cover your ears maxverstappen1 Please don't do this beneath my comment.
chewie_gum WHAT THE FUCK
generalskywa1ker HELLO?
dannyavocado CRYING WHAT IS THIS
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liked by daniel3.jpg, yndeathtrooper, charles_leclerc and 90,283 others
lando.jpg something something date in monaco
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yndeathtrooper i need to make one of these jpg accounts, it looks fun
lando.jpg YES daniel3.jpg YES SECONDED
solorgana team danny crying in a ditch rn
goodbatch IT'S NOT FAIR THIS IS MY WIFE
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liked by davefiloni, landonorris, danielricciardo and 294,202 others
yndeathtrooper guess who's back, back again
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landonorris booo hope it flops
davefiloni 🤨 landonorris sir, please, i was joking im a big (new) fan
borikaskywalker YEAHHHH
therealbossk we're so back dude
danielricciardo Let me in
yndeathtrooper WAITING FOR YOU
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liked by yn.jpg, daniel3.jpg, yndeathtrooper and 96,211 others
lando.jpg stole my heart like the rebels stole the death star plans
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yn.jpg hello
lando.jpg THE JPG LINEAGE EXPANDS yn.jpg i get to double like your posts now this is so awesome lando.jpg i am once again reminding you i love you
cherryhamilton they're so adorable i feel sick
verstappenlover who's cutting onions bruh
daniel3.jpg Please stop flirting on my timeline, is it not enough that you're texting 24/7 and if not you're facetiming 24/7
yn.jpg i wish instagram would let me dislike comments BOOOOOOOOOO lando.jpg Throw him in the slammer.
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
taglist: @justdreamersdream @cha-hot
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kaiser1ns · 3 months
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𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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╹synopsis :: you hated him from the moment he showed up at the bastard munchen tryouts — you can't stand him, it's impossible, or so you thought.
╹contents :: 8.9 k words aka word vomit, fluff and two kind of suggestive scenes,mostly pre-timeskip kaiser, reader is football fanatic, kaiser loves to annoy her(he is just in love with her), just one teenager denying their feelings while the other is clearly in love, mentions of her parents - to clarify they are not dead !, mentions of real players from the actual club bayern munchen, i don't know if I can put this in the slow burn section? she hates him but she loves him.
╹notes :: 100 followers special i gave my blood, sweat and tears for this, please spare me. sorry for any grammar mistakes, hope you enjoy! for my one and only, and big thanks to @kooriou 🤍
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You hated Michael Kaiser from the first moment he stepped into Bastard München Academy, an instant wave of annoyance washed over you. His arrogance and presence got on your nerves, making it impossible to even look at him. But you had to — that was your job as a future assistant coach for the best team in Germany, and who knows maybe you can snatch your uncle's position as manager.
As the tryouts unfolded, you observed him closely, jotting down notes on his skills and trying to give him some initial stats, which to your dismay were either tier A or S. Despite the irritation, there was no point in lying, he was outstanding and he knew what he was doing - or rather, he knew what he wanted. You saw as he teamed up with the boy who wore the jersey with number 20. They made up a pretty good duo, and with Ness's passes and Kaiser's fast attacks, no one could stop them. 
Perhaps beneath the thorny exterior, Michael Kaiser was the player Bastard München looked for—someone who could elevate them to new heights. As the final whistle blew, you already knew the outcome that they would both be accepted into the team, and you'd have to get used to seeing his face almost every day. You got up and walked over to your uncle as all the recruits were lined up, looking at them, as your eyes landed on the striker with with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue rose tattoo on his neck. You stared at him, furrowing your eyebrows and with squinted eyes, a silent expression of displeasure etching across your face.
In that subtle gesture, frustration found a physical form; it was a language spoken without words, a non-verbal protest to whatever disturbance had disrupted your peace — and the one who caused it starred back at you, smirking smugly at you, but he turned back to listen to the coach's speech.
"And with that, we welcome you in Bastard Munchen. We hope you will meet and exceed our expectations, and now I will give the word to my niece Y/N who will also work with all of you youngsters." You were still lost in the staring contest with the boy who paid you no mind, and now everyone looked at you, some were getting scared seeing you so oppressed by something; were they that bad that the coach had to ask his niece about another opinion?
Your uncle cleared his throat, making you come back to the real world, a little taken back from the sudden shift of focus. "Ah, yes, of course." as you stood there with all of your glory and pride like you were the president and everyone waited for your long waited speech "As the future of Bastard Munchen, you will be the ones to continue the legacy set by the club's legendary players. Work hard so you can achieve your goals, as you should always believe in yourself. Make every impossibility a reality." 
Your words echoed through the training grounds, making the boys happy to hear something from a beautiful girl - in one way or another, something had to keep them going. As you finished your speech, you caught his eye again, but this time, there was a glimmer of amusement. Was there anything wrong with the things you said? You tried your best to sound like every coach who talks to their team with all the "work hard and give your best shot" stuff. You hope you won't become like that in the future.
Your uncle nodded approvingly, signaling the end of the meeting. The boys started leaving one by one, but the blue-eyed genius stayed, approaching you with confidence.
”Impressive speech, Little Miss, but actions speak louder than words, don't they?" he remarked with a smirk, leaving you with a mix of irritation. You haven't even known each other for a day and you already want to gouge out his eyes. "Talk about yourself, Mister. Show results, and then talk to me again."
Kaiser chuckled, his smile growing wider as he came closer to you, rising a hand as he delicately slid his fingers under your chin, lifting it ever so slightly, your breath hitched from the sudden move.
"We share some similar goals, I will give you that. Be sure to watch me making the impossible your new reality." he walked away, leaving you standing there like a statue - a blushing statue at that.
You definitely hate him.
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WEEK 2 AFTER THE TRYOUTS:
In the following weeks, as training sessions progressed and the team started bonding, you couldn't deny that Michael's skills were exceptional. Despite his arrogant attitude, there was a reason why he wore that smug expression. The team was carried by his influence, and you found yourself unfortunately acknowledging his impact. Kaiser Impact, huh? That’s one way to call it.
He approached you, the smirk replaced by a genuine smile. "Not bad, right? I noticed the way you looked only at me," he said, as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your composure as you handed him a water bottle "Don't get too comfortable now. This doesn't mean you're off the hook. There's still a long way to go."
The blonde boy chuckled, seemingly unfazed, taking the bottle from your hand, making your fingers briefly touch as he kept eye contact. "I wouldn't want it any other way, Prinzessin. Now what are my stats? I’m sure they went higher." You shot him a skeptical glance, unimpressed by his playfulness. "Stats? Do you mean your nonexistence score? Like in a video game or something," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.
He laughed at your comment. "Maybe not a game, but God's challenge, and I'm here to be the best of the best and eventually surpass Noel Noa," he replied with a cocky grin.
Rolling your eyes once more, you couldn't deny the feeling you had when talking back at him. "Fine, let's humor your challenge sent from above for a moment. Strength: still lacking, form: needs improvement, and humility: nonexistent," you assessed, ticking off imaginary boxes in the air. "But hey, you did manage to catch my attention for being the most annoying person I have ever met, so I'll give you that."
Kaiser raised his eyebrows, took a sip from the water bottle, and said, "Well, Prinzessin, catching your attention is just another bonus for me." You scoffed, "Smooth talker, aren't you? But like you said actions speak louder than words, so do me a favor and leave me alone, you are not the only one who has to work hard."
His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint as he took a step closer, narrowing the distance between you. "Oh, I plan on proving myself in more ways than one. Consider this just the beginning." With that, he went back to the others, leaving you to wonder whether he was genuinely committed to improving or just enjoying getting under your skin.
Deciding to continue your work – which for now was to arrange the water and the towels ready for the players – paying no mind to the world around you, until you felt a hand on your shoulder, thinking it was Kaiser again, but it was your uncle - the head coach. His touch was firm yet comforting, a familiar presence amidst the chaos made by the young athletes.
You turned around, a mixture of surprise and relief coloring your expression. Your uncle, Franz Bauer, wore a knowing smile that hinted comfort “How are you doing so far, Y/N? Is something or rather someone bothering you?” He spoke in a low, reassuring tone. You took a moment to collect your thoughts, grateful for your uncle's concern, but you found it strange how he always knows and notices when you have trouble.
"I'm managing, Uncle Franz," you replied, a faint smile on your lips. "Just the usual, dealing with boys my age. Nothing that I can't handle."
His gaze held a depth of understanding, and as he nodded at you. "I appreciate the help. You know, you remind me of my younger self because I too was an errand kid."
He wanted something from you, and you knew it by the way he started to talk about how much you were like him as a child. He always does it. "Just get to the point. Is there anything specific you want me to do?"
Franz laughed slightly ”You do catch up quickly,” his voice dropping to a confidential tone. "I've been observing you, and I can't help but notice the way you look at the team, wanting to comment on the formations, the positions, and the players themselves. I've been thinking about expanding your role in the team, perhaps as an assistant coach."
The proposition caught you off guard, and your eyes widened in surprise. "Assistant coach? Uncle, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure I have the experience for that."
He placed a hand on your shoulder again, a reassuring squeeze. "Well, you will be an assistant coach in training. Experience is gained through opportunities, Y/N. I see potential in you, a natural talent." your eyes widen suddenly “So, for the rest of the training session, you will be the boss.”
“But I-” he cut you off by standing behind you and pushing you forward “No objections, or I'll call your parents to pick you up. You don’t want that, right?” having no time to answer, you were next to the other coaching staff as your uncle gave a thumbs up from the benches with water and towels. That old bastard Well, you better be here training some naive and arrogant footballers, than being home studying economics.
Taking a deep breath, you accepted the challenge, even if you didn't want to. As you stepped onto the field, the weight of the whistle in your hand felt foreign, yet empowering. The players eyed you curiously, some exchanging glances, unsure of what to make of this sudden change. Gathering the team you began to give orders. "You will go against the first team and clash with amazing players like Noel Noa, Thomas Muller, Manuel Neuer and Joshua Kimich. But let go of the thoughts about the big bad wolves chasing you - you shall become the chaser." Your uncle watched from the sidelines as if he knew something you didn't. "So for starters, we are changing the formation to 4-2-3-1 as Kaiser will be the top of the attack, Ness you will be the attacking midfielder so you gotta keep an eye on blondie over here, but also beware of your rivals. "
The players exchanged glances again, as Kaiser and Ness shared a look - shocked at your words. Is this even going to work? Is she for real? You took a moment to gauge their reactions before continuing. "Remember, this is a training session, and mistakes are welcomed. Now, destroy them."
As the training progressed, the intensity of the practice match increased, with each player giving their best to impress you. As the team executed the adjusted formation, you observed them. Kaiser made strategic moves upfront, Ness showcased skillful ball control, and the defense held its ground against the opponents.
In a surprising turn of events, the U-20 team began to dominate the match. GOAL, As you blew the final whistle after Kaiser scored the 5th and final goal of the game, ending practice. He looked at you, and again with that smile - full of self-confidence. You wanted to throw the whistle at his stupid-looking face. The sidelines erupted in cheers from the staff as your uncle gave you an approving nod, acknowledging the success of your "coaching debut", approaching you with a proud smile. "See, Y/N? You have it in you. You made them believe in the impossible about beating the old dogs, and they did it."
After the game, the players gathered around for a brief post-match discussion. The atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Kaiser, still riding the high of his decisive goal, approached you with a smirk.
"Well, well, well, Y/N. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd make me the star of the show," he said putting his arm on your shoulder.
You rolled your eyes, trying not to let his teasing get to you. "This was just a practice match. Let's see if you can replicate this performance in a real game."
He chuckled, "Oh, I plan on it. Just watch, Y/N."
Ness, who had been listening to the conversation, chimed in, "I have to admit, I didn't think this would work, but it did. Maybe you're not as clueless as I thought."
You shot him a glare, "Yeah, thanks Ness." The purple-haired grinned, "No problem. Just keeping you on your toes."
As the midfielder went away, sensing that his partner wanted alone time with you, Kaiser lingered for a moment, a more genuine expression on his face. "You know, Y/N, for a moment there, I almost thought you enjoyed it. Admit it being in charge, making your own choices..."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Kaiser. This was just one game. We'll see how things go in an actual game."
Kaiser looked at you, his grip tightening. "Fair enough. But, if you ever need to test some tactics, you know where to find me~."
You scoffed, removing his hand from your shoulder, "I'm not going to Hell, thank you." he continued to look at you in a way unknown to you, making you feel kinda strange "Well, maybe just a quick visit. You might find it surprisingly pleasant." You rolled your eyes again, but there was something in your chest that you were very unfamiliar with. "I'll consider it, but this doesn't mean I like you or anything."
The boy chuckled, a teasing sound coming from his lips. "Oh, I'm not expecting you to confess your undying love for me just yet, Y/N. But I have to admit, that was flattering." You shot him a skeptical look, feeling a little hot for some unknown reason. Are you getting sick? No, that shouldn’t be it, maybe is the adrenaline, yeah that’s it.
"Is that your idea of a compliment?" He shrugged, noticing how your checks started to turn red "Take it however you want. Just remember, I'm always up for a challenge, especially if it involves the impossible of winning you over, Erdbeere(Strawberry)."
You raised an eyebrow at the unexpected nickname, playing on your face. "Erdbeere? Really?"
Kaiser grinned, undeterred by your reaction. "It suits you. Sweet, but with a bit of a bite. Plus, it's fun to see that tough exterior of yours crack a little."
You sighed, realizing that arguing with him would only fuel his teasing. "Whatever. Just focus on keeping up with the same performance as today"
He winked playfully, "Oh, I'll keep up, Erdbeere. Count on it."
as Kaiser turned to leave, his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. The teasing smile on his face softened, revealing a hint of something more genuine. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he said, his tone unexpectedly earnest.
You watched him go, and as the distance between you and him grew, you felt something. It was a feeling you couldn't quite describe, leaving you to question it.
Alone with your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay the conversation and the teasing remarks in your mind. Kaiser's parting words echoed, and the unexpected nickname he made up for you.
"Erdbeere," you whispered to yourself, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you liked the sound of it - just maybe, you will let it slide this time.
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WEEK 4 AFTER THE TRYOUTS:
After the whole fiasco with the practice match and the “Strawberry incident”, as you liked to call it, the work in the facility was getting harder - running left and right to do tasks, printing documents, ordering equipment, dealing with the teasing remarks of this annoyingly tall boy with long gold locks and light blue eyes deep as the ocean you will let him drown. If he was on fire and you had a bottle of water - you'd drink it in front of him. Yet, amid the chaos, Michael Kaiser always managed to appear, like a haunting ghost, ready to jumpscare you in the most unexpected time.
One day, rushing to deliver some documents to the medical unit, he appeared beside you. His smirk was infuriatingly present, and his voice dripped with playful arrogance.
"Running again, Y/N? You should consider joining the team as a midfielder with all that sprinting you're doing." You shot him a warning look "Maybe if you spent less time making comments and more time working, we'd get things done faster."
Kaiser chuckled, unbothered. "Ah, but where's the fun in that? I'm just trying to lighten the mood, you are always so stressed."
"Your idea of 'fun' is questionable." you said, trying to ignore the strange flutter in your stomach that his teasing somehow managed to evoke.
As you reached the department of the medical unit, you thought you finally got rid of him. However, fate had other plans. On your way back, he appeared again, blocking your way. His tall frame casted a shadow over you, and his mischievous smile widened.
"Michael, move." you demanded with the use of his first name, trying to sound stern, but he merely leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.
"What's the rush, Y/N? Can't I talk to my amazing assistant coach?" he retorted, his eyes never leaving yours.
Annoyed, you attempted to sidestep him, but he effortlessly mirrored your movements. It became a silent dance, a game of cat and mouse in the narrow corridor. Every step you took, he countered, maintaining his blockade.
"Are you always this stubborn, or is it just for me?" he teased, a playful smile playing on his lips.
"Seriously, Kaiser, this isn't funny," you protested, feeling the irritation building up.
But he remained still, his teasing facade never fading. "Come on, now, Don't lie to yourself, you secretly enjoy our little meetings. The way your eyes light up when you see me says it all."
You scoffed, sticking out your tongue, "In your dreams." Deciding you'd had enough, you abruptly turned on your heel and started walking in the opposite direction. To your dismay, he followed, like a persistent shadow. The facility's corridors echoed with the sound of your hurried footsteps and his leisurely ones behind you until the two of you found yourselves in an empty, dimly lit room.
"Honestly what's your deal? Are you stalking me now? You like stalking girls? That's disgusting." you accused, narrowing your eyes.
He chuckled, leaning his back to the wall once again, while you were in the center of the room. "Stalking is such a harsh word. Let's call it... coincidental alignment of paths."
You groaned, turning to leave. However, in your haste, you tripped over your own feet and stumbled forward. In a split second, Kaiser went off the wall as he reached out his hands attempting to catch you mid-fall. Despite his efforts, fate had its way again, and you both fell, as you landed on top of him. Your arms were at the sides of his head, and your legs wrapped around his torso.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment, your eyes widened in surprise, your face millimeters from his, your lips slightly parting as you felt your whole body burning as your heart raced to the rhythm of an unspoken melody. Seeing his features closer, he was beautiful, and now you are the one drowning in the deep blue ocean that his eyes painted. You didn't know what was going on — you didn't know what emotions you were going through, as Kaiser's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, an unfamiliar but very welcomed warmth spread over your body.
"I-I didn't mean to—this wasn't what I—"
"I've heard of falling for someone, but this is taking it quite literally," He teased, breaking the silence with his flirting, snapping you out of your trance.
You struggled to maintain your composure as you shuttered, attempting to push yourself off him. "G-get off me," your heart continued its upbeat dance, and you couldn't shake off the vivid image of his blue eyes that seemed to have cast a spell on you. 
"Technically, you are on top of me, Prinzessin" blushing furiously as Kaiser's teasing smirk only fueled your embarrassment, making you wish the ground would swallow you whole. The room felt like it had turned into a sauna, the tension thick enough to be cut off with a knife.
Just as the bickering reached its peak, the door swung open, and Ness, the ever-curious magician, stood in the doorway. His eyes widened at the scene before him, feeling a little confused at the sight.
"Oh sorry, am I interrupting something?" Ness quirked an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between Y/N and Kaiser. The two of you exchanged a quick, panicked glance, unsure of how to respond. "Yes/No!," Kaiser and you blurted out, your faces turning even redder. Kaiser, unfazed by the interruption, grinned, while you desperately tried to stay calm as possible.
Ness raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his lips. "Really? Because it looks like I walked in on a very romantic moment of your little play. Do I need to put on some slowed music?" He walked into the room, closing the door behind him as he continued to stare at the two of you. "I had no idea I was walking into a romantic drama." You shot a glare at Kaiser, who only winked in response. Trying to divert the attention, you stammered, "N-no, Ness, it's not what you think. We were just..." Your voice trailed off as you struggled to come up with a plausible excuse.
He, on the other hand, couldn't resist. "Well, it depends on your definition of interrupting." Ness chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two to your... whatever this is."  The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by your attempts to get up from Kaiser. "We were just, uh, having a disagreement," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact with both Ness and Kaiser.
Kaiser, ever the charmer, grinned at Ness. "Disagreements can be quite physical, apparently." Ness shook his head, still grinning. "Well, carry on, then. I'll just pretend I didn't see anything." As he left the room, he couldn't resist adding, "But next time, maybe lock the door." As the door closed behind Ness, you let out a breath you didn't realize were holding. Kaiser, however, couldn't help but laugh. "Quite the entrance, huh? Maybe we should argue more often."
Rolling your eyes at Kaiser's comment, you finally managed to free yourself from his grasp as you stood up in the fastest way possible, and he also rose from the ground. "Arguing more often? I think once is more than enough," you retorted, shooting him a disapproving look. Kaiser, still grinning, stretched lazily and got up from the floor. Ness's interruption had shifted the atmosphere in the room, and you couldn't shake off the embarrassment that lingered. "Thanks a lot for that," you muttered, shooting Kaiser another glare.
Seemingly unbothered, he placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Me? I didn't do anything. Ness just has unpredictable timing." He winked again, causing you to shake your head in disbelief. "Unpredictable timing, my foot. When will you stop with all of this? I can’t even have one peaceful day without you talking to me and saying all these things that you probably don’t even mean. Does it feel nice to play with someone’s feelings?"
Kaiser's smile faltered for a moment, his lively expression fading away as he saw yours. "Maybe I overdo it sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't care."
You studied him for a moment, unsure whether to believe his sincerity or dismiss it as another one of his tricks. "Actions speak louder than words, Kaiser. If you genuinely care, maybe try showing it in a way that doesn't involve constant teasing and sarcasm."
The tension between you and him lingered as you both stared into each other's eyes trying to find answers locked in the depth of your souls. Finally, you decided it was time to leave "I'm going to go find Ness and make sure he doesn't go spreading any rumors," you announced, turning to leave the room. As you walked away, your mind was a swirling mess of emotions—something you couldn’t tell. He was still vivid in your thoughts, causing a knot to tighten in your stomach. As you looked behind, he was still there dusting off his clothes.
You furrowed your brows, awaiting the unknown territory of your own feelings. The warmth creeping into your cheeks and the soft tears started to paint over your face like rain. It was an unfamiliar sense, leaving you questioning the source. Was it just fire or something deeper that can get you burned?
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1 WEEK LATER:
As the days passed, you found yourself avoiding him, unsure of what to think or feel. Everything was so messed up, that you barely slept or ate - when you were not helping your uncle in the faculty, you were at school, where suddenly your grades dropped, and you made excuses for your teachers and friends that you were busy with work - which is partly not a lie but not the whole truth either. Everyone sensed that something was troubling you, even so, you'd rather not tell a single living soul about it all. You couldn't escape the memories of that day, replaying the moment in your mind like a broken record.
Lost in thought, you didn’t realize that someone was next to you as you continued to pour water into the already full bottle that was overflowing over the sink until the person in question shook you by the shoulders. Without much reaction you turned around, your gaze clearly showing the sadness and lifelessness all over your face, you were tired of thinking about him. Your focus returned, the person in front of you was your uncle who was visibly worried about you. "What's going on, my dear? You know you can share everything with your old man" he said, the pain in his eyes to see his niece so down for the past week “It’s nothing … I am just trying to manage school and work.” Another lie left your lips.
Uncle Franz placed a gentle smile on his face. "I've known you since you were a kid. I can see through that facade. Something's eating you inside, and it's more than just school and work. Talk to me." You sighed, the weight of the past week bearing down on you. "It's just complicated, Uncle. I don't know how to put it into words."
He guided you to sit down at the bench near the sink, "Try me. I might be old, but I've been around the block a few times. I am sure it’s a boy problem. Because your mother was the same when she met your dad.”
How does he know it’s about a boy? Honestly, that was shocking to hear. Does he know about the strange situationship between you and Kaiser? Well, you hope he doesn't. Taking a deep breath, you began, "There's this boy, that I met not long ago, and let's say some things happened, and now I'm stuck in this mess. I can't escape it, and it's tearing me apart."
Your uncle listened intently, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Love can be a tricky thing, my dear. But keeping it all bottled up inside won't help. Who is this guy, and what happened?" Is that what they call love? Feeling this way because it's terrible not knowing what you want from yourself—you hesitated to answer, unsure if you want to share the details. "It's just someone, not a big deal."
“It’s Michael, isn’t it?” Your eyes widened upon your uncle’s question, and your eyes started to water, as you tried your best not to cry again. Starting to have a thing for someone is a hell of a ride, so you are going to play dumb "I don't know a person by that name." Not that dumb.
Uncle Franz leaned back. "You can deny it all you want, my dear, but your eyes just told me everything I needed to know." Feeling a mix of embarrassment, you laughed nervously, “I think you should go and get your eyes checked, you are starting to see things.” he looked at you with raised eyebrows, apparently he didn't believe you - no one would in those circumstances.
"Okay, maybe it is Michael. But it's complicated. He's so confusing, and I don't even know what he wants."
Uncle Franz patted your head ruffling your hair, "You don't know because you haven't tried talking to him. You should not be scared; just do what your heart wants.” and maybe he was right, he was always right. You just smiled at him, whipping your tears, letting him know you would try - someday eventually. “But if he hurts you one more time, we will have serious problems.” You laughed nervously, should you be scared or just revealed - guess there's one way to find out.
He stood up from the bench looking at you once more "Now cheer up and come with me, there is something I need to tell everyone on the team” and you also went with him, going into the field where they practiced.
A whistle signaled it was time for a break. Everyone gathered around the benches as you stayed closely behind your uncle, who clapped his hands, turning everyone's attention onto him, except for the boy with the blond hair who was looking at you. He took a good look at you - first at your lips, which were stuck together like a solid line, then your eyes, they shimmered with traces of sadness, yet beneath the surface, something else lingered, revealing your soul. Each glance reflected the emotions within your heart. Have you been crying? Is it because of me? He couldn't shake the feeling that he was probably the reason for your sorrow. As the others chatted, he found himself unable to look away, his attention remained fixed on you, trying to ignore the questions swirling in his mind. 
“Even if it’s a friendly game with Dortmund’s U-20, we should give our best, okay? Make sure to get enough sleep and don’t skip your meals, it’s important to have your body and mind in top shape.” your uncle's voice spoke once more as the rest of the team could be heard agreeing on the upcoming friendly game with the club's biggest rival “And Kaiser you better be excellent, no missing targets, no missing shots, no mistakes. I want you to be focused next week, on the maximum output, got it?” then the coach addressed him specifically, and for the first time, Kaiser was somewhat frightened by his look, which held something very personal against him. “Yes, sir. I will do my best” he replied, masking his uneasiness with confidence. “Good, now the training is over. You can go to your dorms and rest.”
And with that, everyone scattered, leaving just the two of you, feeling his gaze still lingering on. His blue eyes seemed to be looking into your soul, he knew what was wrong with you and that he was the reason behind it all. He wanted to apologize to you, he really did, but something was stopping him and he didn't know what exactly. Come on, say something. Alas nothing came out from his mouth, and you just turned and left without saying a word, even if you wanted to talk to him too — you didn't, leaving him with his feeling of guilt.
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A FEW DAYS LATER:
The day for the team to leave for Dortmund came, as there were no problems with the flight, but now you were at the hotel, where a big misunderstanding occurred. Being part of the female staff, you had to share a room with one of them, but the hotel receptionist thought you were part of the boy’s team, being a teenager. While everyone was settled, you stayed in the lobby as your uncle talked with the hotel staff, and Ness and Kaiser stood across from you on the sofa. The two of them were talking, and you were lost in thoughts about whether a room would be found for you. 
Your uncle returned from the reception "The problem is solved," he said as you were more than happy to go to your room and enjoy some alone time, "But you will have a room tomorrow, because some of the guests will be leaving then," and your smile faded away, faster than it appeared.
At that moment, Ness nudged Kaiser's shoulder signaling him to act, "I can share my room with you." the striker offered, the keys hanging from his hand with a slight smile on his face. Your eyes widened when you heard the offer. “Absolutely no-”
"Fine, but no funny business." your uncle cut you off, as you looked at him with the most shocked face, your gaze met Kaiser's who had been staring at you this whole time. They can't be serious, you thought, Uncle Franz can't be serious. You mentally facepalmed yourself, having enough headaches, this was just the icing on the cake.
Of all people of course it was him. What did you do in your past life to end up in such situations? Did you murder someone, poison a royalty, or haven’t paid your debt — well you sure are paying it now. 
You got up and took the keys from his hand, eyeing him suspiciously, as you got your luggage and went to the elevator before telling him not to bother you. Well, that wasn't the conversation Kaiser hoped to have with you, but it's still something. He turned to look at your uncle, now that you were not here. “Coach, are you sure this is going to work?” 
Franz chuckled, patting Kaiser on the shoulder. "Sometimes, putting people in unexpected situations helps them see things differently. Who knows, maybe sharing a room will sort the things between you two."
The boy sighed, unsure about how this would play out, as Ness patted him on the back "I just hope she doesn't make this more difficult than it already is."
“And I hope you won’t do anything more than talking. Like I said earlier, no funny business.” Kaiser just nodded “I promise."
Meanwhile, you were in the elevator, still processing the fact that you had to share a room with Kaiser, good thing you won’t sleep on the same bed. As the elevator arrived at your floor you took a deep breath and walked down the corridor, finding the room that matched the key. Opening the door, you were greeted with a very beautiful interior, a nice view of the lively night in Dortmund and ... one bed. Great, things can’t get any worse, can they? 
Placing your suitcase by the bed, opening it and pulling out your pajamas. You started to undress when you heard the door open, seeing wisps of blonde hair. Panicking you raised your voice to him not to enter the room as you were still in your underwear. God, how many awkward situations are there to overcome.
Kaiser froze at the door, his hand still on the handle, as he realized the awkward situation he had just walked into. "Sorry" he quickly averted his gaze. "I didn't know you were... I'll just wait outside.” He said, closing the tiny gap he left open. 
You put on your pajamas faster than Usain Bolt can run. Once you were ready you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you went to open the door to let him enter. It was his room after all, you can't keep him outside even if you wanted to.
As you opened the door, Kaiser stood there, his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, so were yours "I'm sorry about that," he apologized again  "I should have knocked, or... I don't know, you should have locked the door. You know, it could have been some stranger.”
Well he was right, you should have locked the door and kept him outside to sleep on the carpet in the hallway. You didn't say anything, you just went and sat on the bed picking up the phone to check the time [22:22] well better make a wish. You ignored him as he sat on the other side of the bed so you were back to back. 
Kaiser cleared his throat, breaking the silence, “I brought you this” he said, handing you a bar of chocolate, still faced with his back. As you took the chocolate you couldn't help but notice the warmth that was forming in your heart, despite the awkwardness. "Thanks," you muttered, feeling a bit guilty for your initial reaction earlier "I'm sorry too," you finally spoke up, turning slightly to face him. "I didn't mean to be rude to you. Well, maybe I did because you deserved it.”
He turned to face you, a small smile on his lips. "It's alright,Y/N”  he said softly, turning around as his eyes met yours. You agreed, offering him a smile too. "So, uh, I'll just go get changed in the bathroom, and then we can go to sleep." You nodded your head again watching as he got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. As the door closed behind him, you let out a big sigh, silence enveloping you again. You decided to start making the bed while he was getting changed. Putting the extra pillows between the mattress, marking the ‘territory’ as you lay down and curled up under the covers of your part. 
You heard the door open and then his footsteps approaching, looking up from the barricade he wore a plain white shirt that was more loose, revealing more of his blue rose tattoo, it was a beautiful design you can't lie, and a pair of black shorts. He too looked at the pillowed wall, then at you with raised brows. “If you don't want to share a bed, I can sleep on the couch.” 
“Not that I don't want to, but the couch is too small and neither you nor I can sleep comfortably on it. So that's why I put pillows in the middle, you have your part, and I have mine.” you explained, leaving him a little bit hurt because of this separation, but whatever you are comfortable with, of course. “Well, sure”
He got under his covers, trying to get cozy but the wall next to him was something he wanted to remove. How much longer are you going to hide from him? Did you hate him so much that you didn't want to see him, in the room where you both were? Guess he will talk to you tomorrow.
No, fuck that. He isn't a scaredy cat anymore, he is not the mentally weak person who constantly gave up on things he believed to be impossible. Because the chance to make it up with you is now — it's not tomorrow, it's not the next day, week, month or year. It's now.
He sat up and removed the one pillow that was separating you from seeing your faces. Catching you, closing your eyes, observing your expression how you tried to keep this innocent sleeping face, and how your chest raised with every breath. You were a good assistant and 'architect', but not a good actress.
“Y/N, I know you are not sleeping,” he whispered your name, his voice soft and full of emotion. You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, well he got you no point of pretending now. “Let's discuss everything that has happened so far. We are all alone here, no one to interrupt us.”
You sat up too,leaning back on the wooden frame, hugging your knees beneath the fluffy cover. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and warm. He noticed your nervousness, and he reassured you, with a smile "It's okay, You can tell me anything." His voice was soothing, making you calm down. 
You took a deep breath, struggling to form the words you had been holding back for so long. Your heart raced as you finally found the courage to speak, “I... I've been wanting to say... that I... I..." your voice trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you fought against your fear, this was meant to be an easy task, just to talk it out and end of story. But love is no easy task, it's a challenge that you either take and win or leave with the feeling of despair after the loss. You met his gaze, seeing nothing but love reflected back at you. 
“I like you,” you finally confessed “And I didn't know what to do after all the bickering we had, you left me questioning my entire existence. Making me feel all giddy and nervous, making me confused about your own intentions.” you felt a weight lift off your chest, he listened absorbing every word you uttered.
The soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I like you too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight of sincerity that warmed your heart. "More than you can imagine."
You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort he offered. "I'm sorry for everything," he murmured, his gaze filled with remorse and affection. "I never meant to hurt you. I didn't know how to approach you properly, and I wanted you to notice me. I wanted you to have eyes only for me and no one else, to think only of me. The only impossible challenge was to make you fall in love with me, but I don’t think I have to worry anymore ."
You shook your head gently, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand. You hesitated when your lips brushed against his own. You froze. What were you doing, kissing Michael Kaiser? You weren’t even sure if all the hatred you used to hold for him was now gone. He breathed in deeply. “Can I?" You took a moment of thought before you nodded, his hands now cupping your cheeks. His hands were so gentle, but the way he kissed you was not so much. It was like he was starving for you, the kiss sloppy, his tongue licking your lips, trying to taste all of you. 
By the time he stopped, you forgot how to breathe, taking in a deep breath, and so did he. Despite how hot and hungry that kiss was—perhaps even able to fulfill a person's hunger for another—he was still starved for more. His lips brushed against yours once more, this time, there was no hesitation on your part. You leaned into the kiss, letting yourself get lost as you felt him smile.
His hands trailed down your arms as they settled on your waist, pulling you closer to him. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's embrace. As the kiss deepened, passion flared between you, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if trying to memorize the taste of you.
Time seemed not to exist anymore, as all that mattered was the feel of Kaiserl's lips against yours and the way his touch set your skin ablaze with desire. When the kiss finally ended, you were left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to catch your breath. And as you stared into each other's eyes and as they say, eyes are windows to the soul, you knew one thing for sure — he will forever be yours, and you will be forever his.
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The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, making you arise from your deep slumber, slowly opening your eyes, trying to remember where you were. You had a very strange dream where you got to share a room with Kaiser and you two kissed. It was a nice dream indeed but things like this happened only in the romantic movies.
You wanted to go to the bathroom, but something stopped you from standing up. Confusion was encountered because why was there anything stopping you from getting up. As you took in your surroundings, the details of the dream flooded back to you—the shared room, the confession, and most importantly the unexpected kiss. It felt so vivid, so real, that it left you questioning whether was it really a dream. Looking down to see the force that kept you in a place came not from anyone - but from Kaiser himself. Wait a damn minute, Kaiser!?, you thought to yourself panicking in the process.
Reaching out and touching Kaiser's shoulder, half expecting him to vanish like a fragment of your imagination, but be was very much real , as his soft breathing and light snores reassured you that he was peacefully asleep. He turned around, pulling you down again, your back leaning against his chest, as the warmth of his embrace enveloped you like a comforting blanket. It wasn't a dream. You were indeed lying beside Michael Kaiser.
Wait, so the kiss is real? No, it can't be... right? A million questions ran through your head as you felt him rest his head on the crook of your neck. You suddenly went numb, but tried to see his face one more time, and to your suprise he blinked, trying to open his eyes, with a smile so angelic, for a person with such devilish persona.
"Good morning, Meine Liebe" he said, his voice husky and raspy. You couldn't help but blush at they way these words came out from him, "Good morning," you managed to reply, your own voice contracts to his was soft, barely above a whisper.
His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. "About last night..." he started, trailing off as if searching for the right words.
"Yeah?" you gulped, suddenly feeling scared about what he might say next. "I meant every word ," he confessed, his gaze locking with yours. "And I meant that kiss too." Your heart skipped a beat, realizing that everything didn't happened in dreamland. It was real, just like the feelings between the both of you.
"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, feeling overwhelmed by his intense but loving gaze. "You don't have to," he assured you, moving the hand that rested behind your head to pinch the check he kissed you not a moment ago. "Just know that we are together from now on.”
As you absorbed his words, a mixture of disbelief and joy washed over you. 
"Together, huh?" you echoed, seeking confirmation in his eyes. Kaiser nodded, his expression serious yet filled with a warmth that melted your worries away. "Yes, together. Me and you, like a couple."
A wide smile broke across your face, and you couldn't contain the happiness within you. "I like the sound of it.” you replied, as he smiled back at you. "Glad to hear that, Erdbeere." As you settled back into the warmth of his embrace, a comfortable silence wrapped around both of you. 
"My uncle will kill you tho." Kaiser chuckled, as he played with your hair. "Don't worry about it, he won't."
Somewhere in the hotel restaurant, Uncle Franz was on the verge of killing the first thing he saw because Kaiser was late for breakfast, and so were you. “I am going to kill that boy.”
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1 MONTH LATER:
Kaiser touched the strands of his overgrown and messy hair as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, "I need a change," he said to Ness, who was glad to do anything for his friend.
“Like a new hairstyle?” The magician asked, wondering what was wrong with his long hair. “Yeah, Y/N said that it was getting in the way, when we cuddled. And also tying it up while playing every second bothers me.”
“Well, I am willing to help, we should have scissors in the cupboards. Go sit while I find them.” the striker sat down in the chair in front of the mirror when his friend returned with the scissors.
With tentative snips and Ness transformed Kaiser's lion mane into a stylish cut, an improvised mullet you can say. As the blonde boy was looking at himself in the big bathroom mirror, and Ness admiring his final product a knock was heard from the door. You entered with a plastic bag full of snacks — it was their day off, so you thought you’d spoil them a little but.
Proudly, he turned to you, his girlfriend of one month, to hear your opinion. "Yes, definitely! And why not add something more? How about dying the mullet blue? It will match with your tattoo."
“Sounds nice, but we don't have blue dye right now.” Kaiser said, knowing that he will have to ask Ness to go to the store to buy one, “Don't worry, I do.” 
“Liebe, why do you carry hair dye in your bag?” he asked, surprised by the fact you had the item in your backpack “Well, I thought you would need one, intuition I guess.” No, it wasn't an intuition, he just talked everyday about wanting to dye his hair blue and you decided to carry a blue dye, just in case.
Women's intuition is a scary thing, he will know from now on not to mess up anything, because either way, you'll find out. But that was a worry for another day, now Kaiser was very happy with the end results. And it's the Michael Kaiser you will see from now on. 
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7 YEARS LATER:
Inside a very beautiful and cozy home, you tried to catch your energetic daughter, Mikaela, who was bubbling with excitement as the day of her dad’s arrival from the football tournament marked on the calendar finally came. Her giggles filled the air as she darted around the house, her tiny feet pattering against the floor, as you yelled while holding your 9-month-old son Matteo in your arms, who was laughing and clapping his hands at the sight, as you attempted to catch the energetic 4-year-old girl. “Mika, please stop running around, or you will hurt yourself.”
“Mama, I can't hear you!” How can she take so much from him, but not me? Just as you attempt to hold onto her tiny hand, the doorbell chimes. "It's Daddy!" Mikaela rushes to the door tip-toeing to reach the handle of the metal and swings it open, revealing your husband standing there, a wide grin on his face at the sight of his daughter.
Kaiser's heart swells with joy at the sight of his daughter waiting for him at the door. He bends down to scoop her up in his arms, lifting her as she squeals with delight. "Hey there, my little princess!" he exclaims, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
As Mikaela showers him with hugs and kisses, Kaiser spots Matteo nestled in his wife's arms, a smile spreading across the baby's face as he reaches out his chubby arms towards his father. With a chuckle, Kaiser takes Matteo from you, exchanging a loving glance before enveloping you in a warm embrace, holding you close as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips.
But their tender moment is interrupted by Mikaela's voice piping up, "Daddy, what about me?" she pouts, her arms outstretched towards her father. Kaiser laughs heartily, balancing Matteo in one arm as he bends down to scoop Mikaela up into his arms once more. He showers her with kisses, making her giggle as he sets her down, as she eagerly reaches out for the brightly wrapped present he’s been hiding behind his back, giving you some time to see each other up close, and not from the small telephone screen.
But before Mikaela can even fully enjoy her new toy, Matteo starts wriggling in his arms. "My little boy missed me too, right?" he coos, as the baby starts laughing from happiness, kicking his little feet, "See Y/N, I told you he is a future football star. Look at that kick!"
As Kaiser holds Matteo, you wrap your arms around him again. "Welcome home, my love," you whisper, giving his lips a little peck. Kaiser returns the embrace, holding you close as he breathes in the familiar scent of home. Just when you think the moment couldn’t get any sweeter, Mikaela pipes up, tugging at Kaiser’s sleeve. "Daddy, what about me? I want more kisses too!" she exclaims, puckering her lips in exaggerated anticipation.
Kaiser chuckles warmly, bending down to scoop Mikaela up once again. "Of course, sweetheart," he says, planting a flurry of kisses on her cheeks as she laughs at her father's teasing and you watch with a smile on your face your small loving family, and how you can't ask for more because you have him and you love him more than anything.
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
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srvbryn · 3 months
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Luke Castellan. Moonlight
Luke Castellan X Hades!Daughter!Reader
FLUFF <333
Summary: "we're running in the moonlight, can you show me the way again?" In which Luke fucking Castellan somehow managed to make you fall in love even more with him (ts doesn't make sense btw 😭)
A/n: GOSHH I love him sm<33 can we ignore whatever he did in the books aaaaa & CHARLIE BUSHNELL is perfect 100% I'm so desperate if you look like Charlie Bushnell hmu 🥹🥹
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The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the beach as Luke Castellan slipped away from Hermes Cabin.
His mischievous grin was illuminated by the moonlight, and he sought the company of a specific person - (Name), Hades forbidden daughter.
As he approached (Name)'s cabin, the shadows seemed to illuminated around him, concealing his movements.
Knocking softly, he waited for (Name) to open the door, her demeanour reserved and cool, a trait inherited from her godly lineage.
"Hey there, (Name)," Luke greeted, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Mind taking a stroll with me? The beach is calling."
(Name) hesitated, her shy nature evident, but curiosity sparkled in her eyes. "Sure, Castellan. Just for a little while."
Avoiding watchful eyes, until they reached the shoreline.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as they found a secluded spot, away from prying eyes.
Luke interrupted the silence. "Wonderful night, isn't it? The moonlight reflects off the water like diamonds."
(Name) nodded, "It's... nice."
As they walked along the shore, "There's something mysterious about you."
A faint blush tinged (Name)'s cheeks. "Being Hades daughter tends to make people wary."
Luke chuckled. "Well, they don't know what they're missing. I find it intriguing."
(Name) shot him a quizzical look. "You do?"
"Absolutely. You've got this aura, but I think there's more to you than meets the eye."
They continued walking in companionable silence until Luke abruptly paused, his gaze fixed on the stars. "Hey, (Name), have you ever wished upon a star?"
(Name) shook her head. "Not really. Why?"
"I heard that wishes made under moonlit skies are more likely to come true," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
(Name) smirked slightly, a rare expression for her. "I doubt that."
"Care to test it out?" Luke grinned, taking (Name)'s hand gently. "Close your eyes and make a wish."
As (Name) closed her eyes, a genuine smile played on Luke's lips. "I wish for (Name) to open up, to let people see the warmth hidden beneath that exterior."
When (Name) opened her eyes, Luke's gaze softened. "Well, did it work?"
(Name) blushed, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe a little."
They resumed their walk, the atmosphere lighter. As the night wore on, they found themselves sitting on the sand, staring at the moonlit waves.
Luke turned to (Name), his expression earnest. "You know, (Name), I'm glad I sneaked out tonight."
(Name)'s cheeks flushed again, but this time, it was accompanied by a genuine smile. "Thank you, Luke. I enjoyed tonight."
Luke grinned, his mischief returning. "Well, maybe we should sneak out more often."
The air between Luke and (Name) crackled with an unspoken tension as they sat by the beach.
Luke turned to (Name), his eyes searching hers. "You know, sometimes words aren't necessary."
(Name) met his gaze, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Without answering, Luke closed the distance, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to pause for that stolen moment.
As they pulled away, (Name) looked at him, her cheeks flushed. "Luke..."
He grinned, the spark returning to his eyes. "Some things are better felt than said."
A small smile played on (Name)'s lips. "I never expected this."
"Life's full of surprises," Luke replied, his tone sincere. "And this? This was a pleasant one."
They sat in a comfortable silence, the light casting a gentle glow over their intertwined fingers. Luke couldn't help but break the quiet. "Who would've thought the daughter of Hades could be so enchanting?"
(Name) rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Flattery won't get you far, Castellan."
He chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's worth a shot."
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gamermattsgf · 2 months
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Coming of age movie hot takes // Matt + Chris
YES, I realise that this is not a proper piece of writing, but don’t worry babies, mommy has got u covered for the weekend coming (hopefully) *nervous laugh*.
You guys can ignore this absolute yapping if u want but it’s really something that I must get off my chest because I think about it an unhealthy amount and make up too many scenarios for each of them in my head with themes and certain plot lines included. Plus, I feel like some of u are absolutely gonna eat this up lol.
But… here are my individual hot takes for both Matt and Chris and what kind of coming of age films they look like they’d star in + with specifically random but accurate details included. (Obviously these are all my own ideas and they may be vastly different to someone else’s, but I felt as though tumblr was the perfect place to brain dump this onto all of u lovely readers)
Matt:
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So first up is Matt. Matt gives very much one of those low budget indie coming of age movies where the quality may not be as good but the cinematography is beautiful, as is the plot line. Matt’s movie is the kind of movie you would go to watch and sob at for the entire time because it’s so irrevocably soul-crushing that it tears your heart up piece by piece. If he were to be in an indie movie I feel like it would low-key give off the same kind of energy as something like ‘All the Bright Places’ or possibly even ‘Five Feet Apart’.
Something absolutely tragic is bound to happen in Matt’s movie, and I feel like him dying due to some kind of terminal illness is a high possibility because I don’t know why, it just fits his vibe in a really weird way? Like- his coming of age movie has to be unbareably depressing for some reason.
He’s delicate and gentle, one of those really interesting characters that has so many layers/complications to him. Him and his main love interest share such an odd but heart-warming relationship that you just can’t help but be stuck thinking about the movie days after it’s finished. It bothers you so much that their happy ending was just out of reach.
For the soundtrack, I’m mostly getting Phoebe Bridgers vibes (specifically her Punisher album), something that’s mind-numbingly sad and fits the overall heartache of the cinematography so well that you just want to cry whenever something like ‘Smoke Signals’ or ‘Halloween’ plays beneath the ensuing dialogue. Also, in addition to Phoebe, I also get heavy Current Joys vibes such as ‘In a Year of 13 Moons’ and ‘A Different Age’. The very thought of imagining it makes me want to flat out sob.
Outfit / aesthetic wise for Matt, I envision very much warm brown leather jackets and baggy blue jeans with beat up sneakers and knitted sweaters. He always carries a tattered notebook and drives around a beat up pick-up truck. He smokes red Marlboro cigarettes and constantly seems to have one neatly tucked behind his ear (what-? It would literally look so pretty matched up with his beard and fluffy hair combo… don’t kill me). He’s shy and likes to keep himself to himself but is also hopelessly in love with our main character that also sort of keeps to herself, so he decides to pursue her before it’s too late.
I also feel like this Matt would for sure write 100 love letters to the main character but she would only discover them hidden within his notebook after he had died because when he was still alive he would never tell her what he was writing down whenever they shared moments together. Possibly Matt never got the chance to confess his feelings whilst he was alive, so they stayed forever friends and nothing more right up until he slipped through her fingers at the very end…?
(Bye I’m sobbing, why the fuck does my mind have to be so vivid and imaginative??)
Chris:
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For Chris I feel like it’s a little different. His coming of age movie would definitely be a mix between a light-hearted comedy of the classic ‘underdog that finally gets the girl’ whilst also incorporating really important life lessons into the mix of the colourfully bursting screenplay. In contrast, the cinematography is just as beautiful as Matt’s, but in a hazier way, so I’m getting very much party + late night hang out vibes from what Chris’ gives off. This includes darker, more moodier lighting, almost like ‘Euphoria’ in a way. I think his movie would more so correlate with either something like ‘Perks of being a Wallflower’ or even something like ‘10 things I hate about you’. I think the added comedy matches up with Chris’ personality in real life perfectly.
There’s definitely got to be one of those cliche scenes where they lock eyes at a party and all of the other guys on the football team are staring at the most well-known girl in school but Chris only has eyes for our main character. There’s some form of blue/pink/purple flashing lights and everything seems to take place in slow motion as they tentatively peer at each other from opposite sides of the random fish tank before them (Romeo and Juliet style) or some other form obstacle in the way.
For Chris’ soundtrack, I’m thinking something a little more upbeat, and I was possibly debating on Lorde, her songs fit Chris perfectly in my opinion, and no one understands the young mind quite like she does. The emotional vulnerability of her songs mesh together beautifully with Chris’ love language of touch and teenage curiosity and I can just envision something like ‘Perfect Places’ or ‘Hard Feelings’ playing over the back of one of those ending monologues where the movie cuts to a bunch of different scenes as maybe Chris says something really sappy and sentimental over the top of them in his voiceover.
Finally, outfit / aesthetic wise for Chris, I would normally put him in his baggy light-wash jeans and then pair it with a white t-shirt and some form of a zip up hoodie with a backwards cap, but to be honest, most of what Boston Chris used to wear way back when works pretty well too. I’m thinking, typical high school student attire, he’s on the lacrosse team, and is always wholesomely trying his best to impress the girl he’s had a crush on for years with his skills, giving the movie that light, feel-good atmosphere that leaves you with a fuzzy glow after you’ve rewatched it for about the 5th time.
(Again, actually sobbing, I wish these two brief ideas of movies actually existed wtf)
Author’s notes: I’m sorry if this is literally so stupid but I think about it so much, and I think about a lot of other possible movies the triplets look like they could star in. In fact, I even have a whole entire second series sitting in my camera roll of me explaining what horror movies I think each of them would look good in, so if u guys end up liking this one, then I would consider giving u a breakdown of my horror movie ideas if anyone were to wish it hehe. But thank u for listening to my rant and I hope it makes as much sense in your head as it did in mine… 🎀
People who I think would entertain this yapping and enjoy what I have to say here: @luv4kozume @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @rootbeerworshiper @nicksmainbitch @lacysturniolo @thesturniolos @strniohoeee @asturniolos @sturniolosreads @sturniolosstar @meanttomeet @sturniolowhore @mattscokewhore @matthemunch @mattestrella @vecnasnose0 @ellie-luvsfics @imwetforyourmom @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @stursweet @bernardsgf @fake-sturniolos @mattslutt @1800chokedathoe @orangeypepsi
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dabisbratz · 1 year
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can we cam up? eren yeager x male reader
w.c: 4.3k
genitalia terms: dick, cock, hole, fuckhole, cunt (1 time), pussy (1 time)
WARNING: spit, blowjob, rimming, anal (obvi), creampie, dirty talk, humiliation, filming, degradation, humiliation, nerd!eren, jock!reader, intoxication, may read kinda dubious but it’s 100% consensual, light d/s dynamic, alcohol, weed mention, dumbification, eren compares you to a hentai character one (1) time bc he’s deranged
a/n: i was kicking my feet twirling my locs screaming into my pillow writing this and it shows. also eren has a BIIIIG phat crush on you but i didn’t wanna get too into it… you definitely remember him, probably even sexted him w/o even knowing it was him
Let’s get one thing straight: You're not an arrogant man. Not at all— in fact, you’d consider yourself to be quite humble. This night may be about you and your winning score, but you’re humble about it. Considerate, even. So you feel no guilt when you accidentally spill alcohol on someone’s shirt, explaining that if they can somehow find you on instagram and send a DM, you’ll pay for the laundry and potential damages. The stranger peers at you with a funny glint in his green eyes as his hands pull the wet fabric apart from his skin, his glasses falling down the arched bridge of his nose.
You shrug and wave to your teammates, your football jersey loose on your form as you make way through the frat house’s large interior. Music blares in your ears for the millionth time tonight, the bass rattling your skeletal system with each increasingly tipsy step you take. Grinding, flushed bodies invade your vision, all around you as you shimmy through the sea of bodies to pour yourself another generous shot. Cool, blue rays of strobe lights dance and flicker across your eyelids. Warm, pink rays that caress your cheek like the confines of your safety helmet, the vinyl of your mouth guards. It overwhelmed you at first, so bright and unapologetic as your eyes adjusted and focused.
Somewhere beneath the tranquil hum of alcohol flowing through your veins you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket, rippling through your skin and sobering you up just a little.
Your girlfriend.
She’d been blowing up your phone all night, something along the lines of forgetting her gift for your anniversary— what was a few weeks, anyway? — and how ungrateful you were for yours. She was a good lay, a quick way to resort to getting your dick wet on particularly lonely nights; when you couldn’t stand the sound of silence dancing around your head. But that was all.
You shake the thought of her squawking voice the second you find Connie, surrounded by sorority girls with glossed lips and pink-tinted eyes. Finding solstice in his company, they’re huddled relatively close, knit together in some sort of baked clique. He’s perched over a bong, lighter in hand as he inhales the fumes with muffled haste. Pothead.
Your hand finds the crown of his head, palm nestled in the bristles of his buzz cut. Noone is allowed to touch Connie’s hair, at least not when he’s coherent enough to stop them. It usually ends in flying fists and bruised cheekbones, but all the man sends your way is a hazy glare. Someone punching the university’s all star just isn’t a good look. Especially when he’s pretty and popular with the public.
“Do that again and I’ll throw this bong at your head.” It’s an empty threat, clear of malice and slurred on Connie’s bitten lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” You steal the smoke exuding from his mouth, swishing the fog in your mouth a few times before blowing it back into his face. “Never again. Scouts honor.”
You shoot back up, mind reeling and posture straightening as a particularly pretty cheerleader hands you a bottle of something you can’t quite make out. It’s brown and rich though, smacking against the glass as you take a swig and chase it down with Connie’s leftover beer of all things.
One thing leads to another and suddenly you’re trapped between sobriety and full on plastered drunk. You remember chugging something sickeningly sweet, despite it leaving a harsh burn in the back of your throat as you took in a deep breath of victory. There were many eyes on you, loud cheers reverberating off the walls as you’re hoisted into the air for your skillful performance and high-fived by your frat brothers. But there are those green eyes again, staring straight through you with a look you can’t quite place.
Not that you can place much. You’re shitfaced.
He smells good, you later discover. There’s a strum of wind as he pushes forward and straight by you, weaving through the crowd like he’s invisible. The swaying of bodies— the sight is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, and it makes his head swim while liquor glides across his tongue, clumsy and inexperienced. He must not get invited to parties often. Or maybe he does, and you’ve just never noticed him.
He’s quite nerdy, some sort of graphic design on his stained shirt that resembles that of a video game or cartoon logo, and a poor excuse of a beard litters his chiseled jaw. And oddly handsome, pale face flushed from the alcohol, pink and pooling at the apples of his cheeks as he stares at you expectantly. But you’re not into men, and all the shots in the world couldn’t get you to even think of advancing with one. He quirks his thick brow in passing, settling back into his seat with a depleting mumble you can’t make out under the loud music.
But the alcohol paired with the sultry music-choice is doing things to you, you can’t help but stare longer than you should when he swallows down his adams apple, throat bobbing as he downs a fruity drink. His tongue darts over his lips, quick and steady as he nods along to the bass. You’re thinking with your dick, pushing past the batting lashes of cheerleaders and curvy bodies of sorority girls until you’re uncomfortably close to the guy who won’t stop looking at you.
“Do you- do you have a staring problem?” You ask, a slight slur to your voice as your face leans in close enough to count the nerd’s lashes individually.
Just to reiterate, you’re not arrogant. In the slightest.
He jumps back in response to the evasive question, strands of hair falling over his glasses as his emerald eyes roam your face. The lines are blurring now, his nerdy, almost irritating face looks kissable and inviting— his parted lips look warm and skilled. You can smell the pineapple on his tongue, sweet and citrusy.
“You heard me,” You hiccup straight into his face, watching his gorgeous features distort into something not even remotely akin to disgust, which makes confusion rack your brain. “Do you talk, or what?”
Your tongue is sharp, much to Eren’s chagrin. You’re too pretty to talk to people like that, especially him. He may look the way he does, but that doesn’t mean you can talk to him like that. It’s not like he can’t recognize a brat when he sees one. Usually, you’re a bubbly team player— everyone likes you, even if they say they don’t. Still, he shakes his head, humoring your drunken irritation. He understands, at least a bit, as he has a natural temper of his own.
Truthfully, Eren has been keeping his eyes on you for the past millennia. It started when he accidentally walked in on your practice, a sunny day that simply got brighter when he saw your face, cheerful and bright as you joked along with your teammates— Jean, Reiner, Levi? Was it? It didn’t matter, his focus was on you.
You and your sinfully tight compression shorts. You and your hands that curl into fists as you grasp at his sheets like a lifeline, as if holding them tight will somehow keep him inside of you, right where he belongs.
You and your stupid football that’d smacked him right in the face at full speed. But it was in his favor, you came running over apologetically as he rubbed away the blooming bruise. Your voice was sweet then, a melodic chirp that he couldn’t stop thinking about since then. He wants to hear it break.
It seems you too always meet at the expense of his dignity. But not tonight.
“Your phone is buzzing,” Eren grunts, sliding his glasses back up his nose and turning his head away. His glasses are fogged up, but it might just be saving his pride. He’d rather not get hard in front of the person he’s been fantasizing about for the past few months, not when you clearly had no recollection of him. He doesn’t blame you. “My bad. I’m not, yknow, stalking you or anything.”
“Oh, because staring for hours and stalking are very different things,” You’re staring at his lips now, ignoring the vibration in your hand. The second your phone screen lights up you slam it face-down into your front pocket. There isn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice, like his response is calculated and open-ended. “What if I like that?”
Your eyebrows wiggle, even with the mind splitting sensation of your brain beating against your skull. Almost as hard as your heart hammering in your chest. Eren’s scoff is barely audible over the music, but the comment has his heart racing.
You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, fists bunched up in the dark fabric as your lips press against his. It’s feverish and sloppy, your teeth occasionally grazing his own. His mouth is hot and wet, fruity essence on his tongue as it slips past your lips and into your mouth. You’ve never had a kiss feel this good. He nips at your bottom lip, pearly teeth digging into the skin until he feels you make an embarrassingly high pitched noise in your throat.
There’s a twinkle in his teal eyes as his posture straightens, slowly leaning back to catch a breath of fresh air (as fresh as it can get, anyway). You watch him readjust his position, lifting his hips instead of his actual body, practically rutting into the thickening air as he shifts. His bubblegum lips curl into a lazy smile as his fingertips circle the rim of the red solo-cup he’s been drinking from. “What if I like you?”
Your breath catches in your throat.
“Your phone just doesn’t shut up, does it?” There’s clear agitation in his voice, his arched eyebrows furrowed as your feet carry you somewhere much more secluded. Eren trails behind you, his eyes glued on the mound of your ass as you walk. He has to help you occasionally, without even knowing the layout of the place, just so you don’t fall over. The light shine of your phone screen emits across your hip, and he can see the contact of whoever it is that’s so deeply desperate for your attention.
Too bad it’s all on him.
“I’m a pop— popular man.” You finally respond, shutting the door behind you to what Eren assumes is your bedroom in the frat house. It’s between two other bedrooms and across from three more, with a sizable closet that holds more trophies than clothing.
“Can see why, pretty mouth like that,” The words slip before he can think, but it’s worth it to see the way you oh, so conveniently hiccup in response. The implication of you being some type of campus whore makes your throat feel tight, and you can’t help but twitch in your tight pants. “Talks a lot of shit, though.”
“You talk too much.” Correction: he doesn’t talk enough. But you shut him up with a kiss anyway, hungry and frantic because whatever this is, whatever you feel when you look at him, you don’t want it to end. His hands travel under your shirt, cold from his previous icy drinks, and you squirm under his palms. He spreads goosebumps across your skin, and when his fingers brush the bud of your nipples you can’t help but jolt where you stand.
A malicious grin snakes across Eren’s face, all teeth and predatory as he runs his tongue over his sharp canine teeth. “Been thinking about fucking you for weeks. The whole time we were talking, all I could think about was shoving you down on my dick.”
Oh. Your cock aches at that, which is almost already too much for you, you’ve never done this before. Not with a man, not with someone who looks at you like they’re going to devour you whole. You swallow hard, alcohol dispelling from your body the more blood rushes south, and suddenly you’re on your knees, unbuttoning Eren’s jeans with trembling hands.
The door locks behind you, a small click that only the two of you can hear. You look back up at the nerd, who’s watching you intently with a smirk.
He’s a complete juxtaposition to his appearance— if you were a bad man you’d call him a loser, but he exudes dominance and power. You want to wiggle under his gaze, shifting your weight between knees. Eren’s large hands cradle your face, oddly tender and affectionate as he rubs your cheekbones, slowly sliding them to the sides of your head. He lifts your gaze, forcing eye contact.
His glasses hang low on his nose, clouded from his breath as he lets out a satisfied sigh. You want to pull on his hair, flyaways barely reaching the base of his neck as the rest remains in a ponytail.
“This okay?” His tone is beyond sincere.
“Yeah,” You breathe, momentarily losing yourself in the forest of his irises. Blinking rapidly, Eren removes his hands from your head to free himself from his jeans, his long cock decorated in a small vein that disappears below his head. It’s pretty, arched against his stomach and dripping onto his shirt. The leaking precum makes you wonder how long he’s been hard. “Yeah. This is—this is more than okay.”
“Open,” It’s more of a command than anything, Eren’s very hands on, his fingers slipping into your mouth to pull at the corners of your mouth. Your tongue covers your teeth, your mouth watering as his salty fingertips graze your tongue. His other hand is busy working at the head of his cock, twisting smooth circles over the slit until it crashes down against your tongue. Again, and again, and again. “Good boy.”
You find yourself drooling on your jersey, sucking in a deep breath through your nose as his tip rests on your tongue. He goes slow at first, letting you suck on the tip while his fist roams his shaft. You’re a big boy, he knows you can handle much more than just the head— even if he is thick. Your eyes water immediately, gagging instinctually as he shoves his dick deeper into your mouth. “Say thank you.”
Before you can pull away with an answer, both hands return to the back of your head, holding you in place. He encourages you to breathe through your nose, cooing at your inexperienced efforts to catch the drool escaping your mouth, and even goes as far as to wipe one of your tears, “Gonna thank me? F’letting you be such a good, warm n’ wet hole for me?”
You feel yourself nodding, blinking hazily as he rocks in and out of your mouth. There’s a sound you don’t recognize coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, and it has you whimpering on the mouthful of cock. You don’t mean to make such a pitiful noise, but it feels so good, letting yourself go a little brainless over a cute boy.
You slurp loudly— not on purpose, but it earns a throaty chuckle from the man above you. He pulls out to let you breathe, his cock slowly sliding up your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit. The tears in your eyes spill unabashedly, your face nearly crashing against his dick.
“Thank you.”
“Hm? For what?”
You want to groan, to bang your fists against the wall because he’s being so mean. He knows what you mean, you know what you mean. Regardless, still focused on his cock just inches away from your face, you moan against nothing. It’s a light noise, breathy and quiet but effective enough to make his cock jump. “Please, please— I mean- fuck, thank you for letting me be…yours.”
Eren tuts, feigning annoyance as he grips your chin between his fingers, digging into the soft skin so you’re actually focused on his face. You smile into his palm, eyelashes batting against your cheek and he just can’t help but spit onto your cheek.
“What, d’you just go dumb the second you see some dick?”
You’re barely listening, instead grinding against the fabric of your jeans because his touch treatment has you feeling some kind of way. “Does your girlfriend know her boyfriend’s a cockslut too? Does she know other boys spend their nights getting your holes wet, fuckin’ you in the same bed?”
It’s much easier to hear the vibrations in your pocket now that you’re alone, the only barrier between you being the muffled music on the other side of the door. Eren’s hand leaves your jaw, and you have no complaints when he helps you to remove your jeans.
The jersey can stay on, though. He wants to fuck you in it.
He pushes you into your bed, watching you bounce in the mattress in nothing but your jersey, and helps himself into solely his birthday suit. You’re just as exposed, seemingly moreso, as he pulls your bottom half into his lap. It’s an odd position, not anything you’re used to, maybe your exes and past hookups— but never you.
Eren hunches over, his breath tantalizingly close to your hole. First, he licks a fat stripe across the surface, holding your thighs open when they threaten to instinctively close. You can’t prop yourself up on your elbows at this angle, your feet dangling over his shoulders while he holds you up. The nerd is stronger than he looks.
His tongue is hot and wet, and you feel yourself clenching when a glob of spit lands on your hole. He massages it in with his ring and middle finger, and your body finds itself squirming against his touch. You expect fingers, one at first, maybe, then another. But instead he uses his tongue, lets it dip inside and lap at your insides. Eren looks hungry, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he spreads you open and holds you there with an iron grip. A punched-out “Eren!” leaves your lips the second his tongue is lapping you up, leaving tingles up your spine and smog in your brain.
He kneads his fingers into the fat of your thighs, nipping occasionally where your skin folds into your ass, just to get another choked whine out of you. And, oh, you whine. The intrusion isn’t unwelcome, in fact, the feeling of Eren’s face slick with his spit as he tries to get his tongue as deep as he can into you makes your toes curl. You fist your bedsheets, finding comfort in the pillows you’re pressed into, and go as far as to hold yourself open for the man while he goes to grab something.
“Oh, baby. You shouldn’t have,” You shiver at the sound of his dark chuckle, and squeal when his ring finger finds a spot next to his tongue. “Look at that. Hole’s leaking. You just sit here and look pretty while I fuck it on my tongue, hm? Think you can do that?”
“Mhmmm, mhm, yeah! I can— I can do that, ‘Ren.” You sound like a bitch, with your nose buried in your pillow as you moan with every brush to that special spot inside of you. Your cock jumps against your stomach, leaking into your belly button and down your chest. Your jersey is ruined, but so are you, especially when Eren rubs your cock once, twice—
Holy shit. You’re cumming.
“That’s it, come on, give it to me.” Your jersey catches it all, right over your reserved number and embroidered nameplate. Your brain is too fried for you to care, tears streaming down your face as your hole flutters on his tongue and fingers. Sensitive now, moreso than you were before, you whimper and shimmy in Eren’s lap, simultaneously moving toward and away from his touch. He keeps you where you are though, staring at your blissed out face through clouded glasses and licking his lips like he’s just finished eating the best meal he’s ever had. And as if that’s not enough to have you cumming again already, he places an open-mouthed kiss to your puffy hole just for good measure.
“You felt so soft on my tongue, fuck, I almost busted right on you,” His cheeks are pink, and the rosy shade blooms down his neck and disappears into his chest. He pulls you forward by your wrist, sucking on your tongue and licking over your lips so you can taste yourself. He’s gonna be the death of you.“Bet this hole’s gonna be even softer. Nice and warm while you take my cock. Gonna let me cum inside? Pump that soft cunt full until it’s all creamy and used?”
He’s so filthy, so unashamed. The nickname doesn’t go unheard, and despite the slutty moan that you let out in response, part of you wants to pinch him just for that. Damn Eren and his shameless mouth! But you nod anyway, an everlasting stream of ‘yesyesyes’ floating in the air as he lines himself up to finally give you what you’ve been gagging for so prettily.
Eren just can’t help himself. Not when you’re folded up and presenting yourself to him like this. Not when your eyes are wide and your lips are parted and you’re letting out such pretty sounds. Sounds that belong to him. Plus it’s not all on him, you’re the one with an unlocked phone. You’re the one with space in your camera roll.
He’s sure the camera is shaky, maybe even a little blurry, but he makes sure to get your face in it, fucked-out and crosseyed as he pounds his dick into you, keeps you steady with his hand on your jaw. A string of precum connects you together, pooling at your ass and Eren’s thighs as his hips crash down, yours convulsing upward to meet him halfway. It’s a bit half-assed on your part, but who’s gonna blame the guy getting fucked stupid?
“‘Ren, you’re,” You sob in disbelief, eyes rolling along with your hips. “You’re— ohh, you’re fuckin’ me.”
He smiles down at you, feral and heated as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against the curve of your ass. He never seems to stop, always chasing that feeling of you clamping down on him even when you’re almost too sensitive to take it. “That’s right, I’m fuckin’ you. Just how you like it, hm? Right in your fuckhole. S’what it’s there for, right?”
“That’s—“ Absurd? Vulgar? Objectification? It’s hot. It’s hot and you know it, Eren knows it, and your dick sure as hell knows it too because you can feel your next orgasm coming. “Yeah. N’my fuckhole.”
He makes a pleased sound in response, groans and pants joining your moans when he speeds up, his slow and deep strokes becoming fast and hollow, pounding that sensitive spot deep inside you over and over and over. “Should train you to take this dick.”
“Hold on,” Despite looking straight at him you can’t understand what he’s saying, not until his glasses are placed over your eyes and you’re blinking away the prescription blur. You struggle to collect yourself, wailing as you reach for his free hand that begins to nestle between your jawline and your neck. He squeezes affectionately, lets you cry and arch on his cock while he breathlessly sighs, “You look straight outta my favorite hentai.”
And, technically, you’re making a sextape now. A tape that showcases closeups of his cock disappearing deep inside you, pummeling your puffy hole until it carves the shape of his dick into you. Until only Eren can fit, big and thick and unbelievably deep. A tape that has you, a popular and well-known straight jock, crying on the dick of a guy you just met.
“Eren, m’gonna… ‘Ren—” You may as well scream, your body tensing as you spray across your chest — when did your jersey get bunched up enough to expose you like that? — sticky cum shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body ablaze. He doesn’t let up, castelon eyes narrowed as he fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, milking himself for all he’s worth. “Inside, wanna be full, I deserve it, please, Rennie.”
He bounces you a few times, watching you fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you. It’s the nickname that gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. It’s clear you feel proud of yourself for making him tremble inside you, and Eren takes the opportunity to scrapbook the memory.
“C’mere,” He’s not asking, simply pulling you closer to the camera so it can focus on your cum-stained face. “Smile for me, baby. Tell your ‘girlfriend’ how much you like it in your pussy too.”
2K notes · View notes
starrykirsche · 9 months
Text
Two types of Stars
a 2023!Bill Kaulitz smut fic
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content: smut, (semi) public sex, praise kink, fem!reader
synopsis: tonight, at you and Bill’s shared penthouse apartment, you can’t seem to sleep. Bill wakes up to find you’re not in the bed and one thing leads to another…
a/n: hey guys! i’m really sorry i haven’t been able to get much out recently, i have several fics in the making (+ ty for 100 followers :3)
The air is still, the bedroom pitch black. After half an hour of tossing and turning, you decide you’ve had enough. Slowly propping yourself up on the heels of your palms, you groggily turn to look at your partner. Bill’s sleeping peacefully beside you in… nothing. You gently push some of his wavy blonde hair out of his face, a soft smile painting your lips. With a sigh, you pull yourself out of bed and shrug on your silk robe, the one that matches Bill’s. The wooden floor boards creak beneath your feet as you sneak out of the room.
You flick on the lamp, and a dim light fills the room. Creeping through the still air of you and Bill’s penthouse, you swing open the door to the glass balcony. Stepping out, the cool night air brushes against your barely shielded skin. The night is dark but the city lights illuminate the view. You lean over the railing and take a deep breath. This is what you needed, you think, some fresh air.
After a moment, you feel a firm hand wrap around the back of your neck. Perking up, Bill inches into your field of view, just by you side.
“I was wondering where you ran off to, Herzchen…” Bill purrs. You notice a champagne glass in his hand now, and that he’s wearing the matching half to your silk robe… with nothing underneath.
“Sorry,” You begin as you turn back to the city view, “Couldn’t sleep.”
He kisses your cheek and you can’t help but smile at the familiar feeling of his snake bite piercings against your skin. Bill slowly pulls away and turns to look at the city view, too. Gently carding his fingers through your hair as he does so.
“Soo…” Bill turns to you with a cheeky smirk, “Balcony sex?” You can’t help but laugh at how simply he says it. Like it’s nothing at all. Truthfully, you consider it. Maybe, that’s the push you need to finally fall asleep peacefully.
“Sure.” You answer astutely. He smiles and and kisses your lips gently, they taste lightly of champagne, but not enough to be overwhelming. “Fuck me to sleep…” You mumble against his lips.
Bill smiles at that and nods, “You’re the boss.” He disappears from your line of sight, and you feel his hand trail down your body until it reaches the small of your back. Pinching a fold in the silky fabric, he hikes up your robe. He bends you over on the railing a bit more and gently rubs your side, “Is this okay?” Bill asks. You nod and before you know it, your underwear is at your ankles and Bill’s spreading your legs a bit more. With one firm hand on your hip and a tattooed hand softly wrapped around your neck, you feel him slowly push himself in.
He groans raggedly and leans over to kiss your shoulder blade, which only pushes his erection into you even deeper. And you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sensation of him inside you. Slowly, he begins to pull himself in and out of you, a flurry of little moans that you can’t quite place to be yours or his. All you know is that it feels amazing.
“Oh sheiße…” Bill moans breathily from behind you. He must be quite sensitive tonight, as you can already feel him begin to thrust sloppier. Though, you don’t pay much mind to it, as you’re just swimming in your own pleasure. The hand that was wrapped around your neck trails down to your hip and then wraps around you to touch at the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where his dick is sliding in and out of you. He rubs his fingers against you in all the right ways, as he continues to sloppily thrust in and out of you, “Ah.. good girl… good girl,” Bill mutters between groans. You can feel that familiar feeling bubbling up. It just feels too good.. the friction. One thrust, two thrust, three— you’re sent into a splintering white light. Your legs shaking. The muscles of your inner walls tightening down on your partners already sensitive erection. You barely even realize it when he pulls out and strings of white shoot out against the glass panel your leaning on, right between your legs.
The two of you are a panting mess. Bill leans against the railing too now, and kisses your shoulder. “I came pretty quick that time.. sorry,” He mutters. You gasp for air and shake your head.
“No, no, the timing was perfect that time.” You give him the best smile you can and he returns it.
“I’ll clean that in the morning,” Bill quips as he gestures to the dripping semen in the glass. Nodding, you chuckle a bit.
“Bed?” You ask.
“Bed.” Bill says as he wraps his arm around you and leads the both of you back inside.
deine, kirsche. ✮
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yurinaa-world · 3 months
Note
Congratulations on 800 followers 🎉
I would like a Blade, Dan Heng and Gepard. C, D, M and O. Thank you
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✦Characters: Blade, Dan heng, & Gepard
✦Alphabet: C, D, M, O
800 Follower Milestone Event; Under The Stars
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𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒
✦Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
He’s the silent type, just keeping you close to him very close. Lay your head on his chest even if he has several cuts and stab wounds that he is ‘supposed to be careful about’ since they could get worse. His blood, His life is nothing when it comes to your tears. Just say it, and someone will disappear as if they never existed.
✦Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
Together forever. Every good thing always comes to an end it when death catches up to them. Death, he may desire it, yet he rather not have you intertwined with it. Your last person he holds the corpse of. Maybe there’s a chance for everything to be normal even after all this. To have a family. Small chance…
✦Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
On the run. Getting chased by people who want to murder you both senseless. Right at the cliff's edge, just death lying beneath and ahead. And a ring with the darkest ruby you’ve ever seen. “Till death do us part? better hurry it up.” Those words left his mouth, which left your mouth wide open. Now, of all places!? “Till death do us part…” and jump right off the cliff, but death wasn't below you. 
It's not really a wedding unless you want to get your special day shot up because of him. Skip the wedding and just go straight to the honeymoon. 
But Kafka thinks you should have a wedding! You would look adorable in a wedding dress. If you're afraid of people ruining things? Well, she’ll take things. So don’t worry about that pretty little head of yours.
✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
He's annoyed. Just looking at you gives his head a weird feeling. It’s burning hot and going so fast for you and others. It’s so obvious to everyone that he likes you that he’s even looking at you; that was a sign. He’s rough about telling you. His eyes make it look like he wants to kill you.
𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔
✦Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
He’s one that likes to talk it out with. But by no means that he isn’t freaking himself. His mind scrambled, trying to figure out any method that help make you feel better. He ends up holding you close and whispering words of comfort in your ear.
✦Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
He wants to get married. One day, or any day, he won’t be part of the express anymore, and since he has a long life span, he rather spend the rest settling down with you somewhere in a cottage and having family just treasure the good memories and leave behind the bad ones.
✦Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
100% he’ll want to marry you! He wants to make it special to you, somewhere that is unforgettable. He’s planning for months, unsure how you’ll react when he does pop the question, which freaks him out. 
Flowers are everywhere, under a pretty arch, while he goes down one of his knees before pulling out a ring box. Your breath completely stops just watching him pull the ring box and open it to find a gold ring with a pretty emerald “You’re the light of my life; I couldn't imagine myself without you. Please shine in my life forever. Will you marry me?” instead of taking the ring, jump to hug him will yelling “yes!”
✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
Once his eyes are on you, he can’t take it off you. He sees you waiting for him, ready to have fun all day.  As he walks up to you, he takes in everything of you.  March sees how he feels for you. The way he stops to look at you and breath stops, and he doesn’t hear what March says! What is he looking at that he’s ignoring her?! And then she turns to see you ahead, waiting for them. After that, she becomes his wingwoman. 
𝒢𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓊
✦Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
He notices even subtle changes. Even when you don’t even know it, he’s good at it; because of past experiences, he can tell when others feel a certain way, even with little things others would dismiss (the only thing his father could give aside from love). He doing everything to make you feel better. Talking it out with him, or just staying silent as he holds you close to his heart so you can listen to his heartbeat.
✦Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
He wants to start a family! (serval wants to be the cool aunt) but getting married first before the family stuff happens. He would be grateful–more than at–to have you in his life forever, and you feel the same as him.
✦Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
He’s nervous about your answer, just like Dan Heng, serval just hyping him in the planning stage. Finding a beautiful place that would be perfect is pretty difficult when the whole planet is covered in ice. A ring that screams his love for you, not just in price but the way he would imagine you wearing the ring.
✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
He’s seen you at his sister's workshop, looking around at her different machines in amazement. While she’s in the back, unable to answer your many questions, maybe he could tell you instead since his sister tells a lot about the machine; it wouldn’t hurt to tell you when Serval comes to see you and him talking and laughing with each other. She can’t help but tease Gepard about it later.
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waratah-vroom · 10 months
Text
Scandalous (ms47)
✨ join waratah's (over) 100 follower celebration ✨ Made to order for super sweet anon
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Liked by yndaily, ynsource and 19,274 others ynstylefiles: When will they finally admit they're dating? They're so cute together!
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"You need to leave."
Mick had barely finished tying his shoelaces when you threw him his jacket. "Pushing me out so soon, Hase?"
"No, you idiot, I mean you leave now and I'll follow you out in ten minutes. We'll meet in the car."
"This is getting ridiculous, honestly. I don't know why we can't just say we're dating."
You'd had this conversation a million times before. "You know why."
He groaned, his head falling against the back of the couch. His response was always the same. "It's so stupid."
You and Mick had already been dating for three months when your show's publicist approached you about entering a PR relationship with your co-star, Jacob. You'd flat out refused, but since you hadn't gone public with Mick yet, they'd managed to talk you into a compromise of leaving an 'air of ambiguity' between you and Jacob.
Mick wasn't thrilled, and to be honest neither were you, but it was either publicly ignore your boyfriend and get caught grabbing coffee with your co-star a couple of times a week, or damage your reputation with the biggest studio in Hollywood. That was six months ago, and your season finale was set to air in a week.
"It's just until the season finishes, then we can tell everyone."
"It's been six months, Hase. I'm getting exhausted with all the sneaking around."
You were getting exhausted too. It was tiring staggering your exits from hotels and restaurants, never being able to hold your boyfriend's hand in public. It was also getting annoying wearing sunglasses and a beanie everywhere you went, even in the height of summer. But you'd come this far and the finish line was almost in sight.
It's not like you didn't enjoy hanging out with Jacob. The two of you had become close friends since his character had been introduced as your new love interest at the start of the season. It was also helpful that Jacob was a huge sports fan so him being seen with a formula 1 driver didn't raise any questions. He also loved talking to Mick about cars so he was happy to tag along on your 'dates'.
Like right now, when you and Mick had found yourselves at a group dinner with Jacob, a popstar, two NBA players, and a few more of your co-stars.
"You know I love your friends but I really wish this was just the two of us," Mick took hold of your hand beneath the table, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "We could be home alone right now eating pasta. I would have gotten to have my desert first."
"I've been promising Olivia I'd catch up with her for ages," you whispered. "I couldn't turn her down a third time."
You would have much rather been at home too. You'd been on edge all day. Your manager was going to ring you some time tonight and you'd been over thinking the phone call since you'd woken up.
Olivia knew what day it was, how could she not when you brought it up any chance you got? She'd invited you and Mick out tonight as a distraction. "I can see the wheels turning in your head, babe," she said from across the table. "I know you're thinking about it."
"It's an Oscar nomination, how could she not be thinking about it?" Jacob asked, tossing a chip in his mouth.
It was true, how could it not be on your mind? As soon as your new film had started being shown to the press, the Oscar buzz had begun. It had only intensified when the film was finally released, and now you had an entire studio worth of pressure on your shoulders. Today was the day nominations would be announced and you were just waiting for your phone to start buzzing in your pocket.
"You'll get it, Hase. I know you will. You deserve it."
"I bet you'll feel like shit if she doesn't get it now," someone said quickly followed by a thud and a yelp.
"Of course she'll get it, the movie's incredible."
"She's incredible in everything she's in!"
You drowned out their chatter, a bubbly feeling slowly growing in your stomach. You'd won awards before; hell you'd won an Emmy for the first season of your TV show, but the Oscars were big. Really big.
A tapping on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze and Mick said, "your phone's ringing."
"Everyone shush," Olivia's eyes widened as you answered your phone. Her whole body seemed to vibrate as you spoke to someone on the other end.
"Okay, thank you," you nodded, listening as your manager said something about press and photographs. "Yeah, I'll speak with you in the morning. Okay. Bye."
The table was silent, everyone's eyes were on you, waiting for you to speak.
"I got the nomination. Best Actress."
Cheers and shouts erupted from everyone at the table. Olivia was the loudest, shouting that she never had any doubt, but your eyes were focused solely on your boyfriend.
He grinned, "ich war mir sicher, dass du es kapieren würdest, Hase."
"I don't know what that means but it sounds like you love me."
"I do love you," his hands grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face to his as he kissed you. Just as you deepened the kiss by slipping your tongue into his mouth he whispered, "ich bin so stolz auf dich"
"Again, no idea," your lips chased after him as he pulled away to look in your eyes.
He went in for another kiss but stopped when Olivia cleared her throat, "as much as I'm loving this moment between you two, there's cameras."
Y/N L/N CAUGHT CHEATING ON JACOB ELORDI
Y/N L/N SEEN KISSING MICK SCHUMACHER AT AN INTIMATE DINNER: CLICK HERE TO SEE HER RUMOURED BOYFRIEND'S REACTION
JACOB ELORDI REPORTEDLY DEVASTED AMIDST Y/N L/N CHEATING RUMOURS
"Oh my god, I'm going to have to post one of those notes app apologies, aren't I?" You'd been pacing the living room for what felt like hours.
Mick had checked his phone and it hadn't been longer than five minutes. He'd tried to pull you in for a hug but you'd shaken him off, continuing your laps around the coffee table. He'd resigned himself to sitting on the couch and letting you rant. "You haven't done anything wrong."
"People think I cheated on Jacob."
"You'd have to be dating him for it to count as cheating."
"Everyone hates me!"
"I think you're overreacting, Hase."
"You don't get it, Mick. You're not a woman. It's always our fault. They're making me out to be some sort of... I don't know... Sex-crazed adulterer!"
"Adulterer? I don't know what that means."
"Cheater, Mick. I'm a cheater," you finally collapsed on the couch next to him, your hands covering your face.
"Hase. Schatz. Love. Come here," he patted his thigh and you sighed, reluctantly moving to sit on his lap. All it took was Mick stroking your hair for you to bury your face in his shoulder and let out a shaky breath.
"You haven't done anything, okay? It's always just been me and you. You can't cheat on me with me, can you? Plus it's not like you've ever kissed Jacob or confirmed you two were dating. The media made it all up in their heads. Sure you never told them they were wrong and I'm not going to say I said it would end badly-"
"Mick," you groaned. "Not helpful."
"It'll blow over, Hase. I promise."
He looked so sure of his words, his blue eyes full of confidence. He always had a way of putting you at ease.
You pressed your forehead against his and kissed his nose. "You still love me, right?"
He went to turn his head away but your palm caught his cheek, keeping his eyes locked on your own. "Do I need to respond to that?"
"Yes."
"Ich liebe dich mehr als alles andere."
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Tagged: mickschumacher Liked by yourfriend, taylorswift and 15,392,842 others yourusername: In my lover era 💘
mickschumacher: Mein Schatz 🤍
jacobelordi: Never seen a better matched pair than you and Mick
oliviarodrigo: Cutest couple!
georgerussell63: Thank god. I think Mercedes admin was going to have a heart attack if they had to crop you out of another photo. ↳ mercedesamgf1: It's true, my blood pressure has been shockingly high.
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read more of my writing here
゚。 ⋆ mags' radio: Idk how awards nominations work... so pls suspend your disbelief. This was a fun one! I know anon said they wanted a chaotic ending, so I tried my bestest ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。
German translations (idk German so I used a translator)  Hase, Schatz = affectionate nicknames (side note: all german nicknames are adorable) Ich war mir sicher, dass du es kapieren würdest = I knew you’d get it Ich bin so stolz auf dich = I’m so proud of you Ich liebe dich mehr als alles andere = I love you more than anything
taglist: @fulla02reads @flowerchild-96 @camillalarke @cool-ultra-nerd @azxulaa @booksobsess @formulakay
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ILLICIT AFFAIRS | BILLY LOOMIS X READER 𖤐₊˚.
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summary: you know he’s in a relationship. you know that this is wrong. but somehow, you just can’t seem to stay away from billy loomis.
word count: 1.5k
warnings: angst, cheating, billy isn’t a great guy lol, reader is insecure, suggestive content, swearing, fem!reader
a/n: yes this is (admittedly a little loosely) based off of the taylor song… I never claimed I was 100% original!! idk what this is tbh but I haven’t posted in a while so <3
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
He’s barely opened the door before his hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the rain and into his warm embrace. He doesn’t even complain about your sodden state, lips crashing into yours as he clumsily backs you against the wall.
“I’m glad you made it, baby.” Billy murmurs in between kisses, voice low with lust. “Fuck, I couldn’t wait any longer. See what you do to me?”
God, it makes it so much easier when he talks to you like that. When he talks like he breathes just for you, like you’d hung the stars and moon. It’s easier to pretend that way. 
It doesn’t take long. One moment, your legs are wrapped around Billy’s strong frame and the next, you’re laying beneath him on his bed, sighing as he works on your neck. The marks he leaves are purposeful, and they’ll no doubt be a pain to cover up tomorrow. You tell Billy exactly that, making sure to inject just the right amount of that teasing tone you know drives him crazy into your voice. 
“Good,” he says lowly, “Lets people know you’re spoken for. Can’t have anyone touching what’s mine.” He grinds down as if to emphasise his point, hips meeting yours in a way that sends a jolt of electric thrill through your bones. 
At least, you think that’s what it’s from; maybe it’s all simply down to his choice of words - mine. He knew what that did to you - what visceral effect it must have on you. Knew how much it meant to you to be wanted and desired and cherished by somebody like Billy Loomis. It was all you’d ever wanted. 
Except…
“Except I’m not.” Your voice barely comes out above a whisper. Billy comes to a halt, his lips moving from your collarbone as his brown eyes meet yours. He looks confused and vulnerable in a way that makes you sorry for even bringing it up, but you can’t ignore it. Not now. Not today. 
“You are. You know that you are. You mean everything to me, just-"
“Just not as much as Sidney, right?” Her name tastes like ash in your mouth. It always came back to Sidney Prescott - sweet, smart, stunning, Sidney. The girl who barely knew you yet always made an effort to smile at you in the hallway and compliment your outfits. The girl whose boyfriend you were sleeping with behind her back. 
From the moment he’d flashed you that charming smirk of his, you knew you were a goner for Billy Loomis. And you’d tried to fight it, you really had. He was bad news, all of your friends thought so, and most importantly, he had a girlfriend. Everybody knew him and Sidney were serious. And you were better than that, sleeping with a taken man. 
Except, as it turns out, you weren’t. Not really, anyway. He didn’t even have to try to get you in bed with him, but after the first time, you’d felt so goddamn guilty that you swore it would never happen again. 
Your resolve lasted an entire week. Billy was like a drug, alluring in every possible way and so entirely addictive. You couldn’t stay away from him even if you tried. And although the guilt never entirely disappeared, it sure as hell became easier to ignore when Billy whispered sweet nothings into your ear and made you feel like you’d had everything you’d been missing your entire life. 
“Sidney?” Billy laughs, a sound almost as beautiful as he is. “Sidney means nothing to me. I’m going to blow her off, and then we can really be together, do it right.”
As awful as it is, the thought of that seems completely compelling. You want to be Billy’s, utterly and solely, more than anything on this earth. Besides, anything would be better than passing him in the hallway and pretending you don’t know every fraction of him so completely intimately.  Pretending like he’s not the first and last thing you think of each day. Pretending that you don’t solely wear the single perfume that he complimented once.
So intimately that you know that, at this moment in time, you can’t believe a single word that flows from his mouth - no matter how desperately you want them to be true. 
“Billy,” you sigh, turning your head away from his pleading gaze. 
“Come on, sweetheart,” he replies rather impatiently. “You know it’s-"
“Complicated,” you finish miserably. “I just don’t get why it has to be!”
“Look, I can’t talk about this right now. Can’t we just…” 
He trails off, and his lips catch yours in a passionate kiss. It’s too easy to sink into it, to sit back and just let Billy take the lead and give you just what you want. It’s damn near impossible to pull back, but by some miracle, you manage to do so. 
“I’m just saying,” you protest. “If you can’t stand Sidney, if she’s truly as bad as you say she is, why can’t you just end things with her?” The sheer frustration that laces your tone is evident even to you. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this Billy, it’s driving me insane, I-"
“What, so you’re mad at me now?” Billy scoffs, tone completely accusatory. “Because you knew what you were getting into - you’re hardly innocent here, alright! I didn’t trick you into sleeping with me - last I checked, you're perfectly fine with our arrangement when it means you get to be the one under me! So why d’you even care, huh - in fact, why don’t you do us both a favour and keep the fuck out of my business?”
You reel back as if you’ve been slapped. Not because of what was said - you both know the words to be true, however deep down that is - but because of how much they hurt. You knew you were a horrible person, but you hoped that Billy saw you as more than that - you needed him to see you as more than that. And by the way he usually acted in your company when it was just the two of you, you thought that he did. When you were alone, he worshipped you. Fuck, the boy looked at you as if he was completely and utterly in awe of your mere presence. And he’d definitely never snapped at you like this. 
It’s one thing hating yourself for what you’re doing, but it’s another having the one person you love so deeply confirm all the ugly parts of your personality that you work so hard to keep hidden from the world. 
He can evidently read the hurt written all over your face, and Billy’s once irritated gaze softens. “Shit,” he breathes, and you can’t tell if he genuinely sounds remorseful or if you’re naively hearing what you want to believe. 
It’s easier to go with the latter option. 
You make a move to stand, but you feel a strong arm pulling you back down onto the bed below. “I’m so sorry,” Billy apologises, pushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m being an ass, I know that. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, baby.” With your arm still in his tight grasp, it would be difficult to stand up without outright pushing him away from you. But with each hushed word Billy speaks, you find yourself wanting to stay more and more. After all, he was right. You were already guilty, and your dignity was clearly long gone. What would be the use in leaving? It’s not like you could fall any further from grace. 
Your eyes flutter closed as Billy kisses all along your jaw, mumbling apologies under his breath as he does so. “I’ll fix everything, I swear. You’ve just gotta trust me,” he vows before his lips suddenly move beside your ear. His breath is hot as he murmurs, “you do trust me, right doll?” A small, pathetic whimper escapes from the back of your throat, and you find yourself nodding before you even decide to move. 
“That’s my girl.” The honey-sweet tone of his voice is enough to make you crumble, and your fingers desperately start to make work of undoing his belt. It doesn’t take long, what with your hands working practically on autopilot. Billy takes the hint, and he eagerly pulls your shirt over your head with ease, strong fingers unclasping your bra once he’s finished. 
You’re making a complete fool of yourself, a bitter voice whispers at the edge of your mind. He’s spelled it out for you, and yet you’re still here, letting him undress you like this. How pitiful. 
It’s not incorrect. Billy Loomis had undoubtedly made a mess of you. Ruined you. Before all of this - and God, how long ago that seemed now - you were good. You were headstrong and assertive, and you’d never been one to let people walk all over you. That girl was a far cry from the person you were now, and she’d undeniably despise the idiotic fool you’d become.  
You wouldn’t exactly blame her, either. You know that when you get home, you won’t even be able to face your own reflection. You never can. 
But you also know damn well that when Billy undoubtedly comes running back to you, because he does, every single time without fail, you’ll blindly follow him right back into his arms - and right back into his bed. 
It’s awful. You know that, no matter how much parts of you try to pretend otherwise. There’s no sugarcoating it, no justification for your actions that aren’t completely shallow and selfish. You just have to hope that one day, you’ll snap out of it. If Billy doesn’t choose you - accept you fully like the way you accepted him long ago - you like to think that one day, you’ll have the self-respect to leave and tell Sidney the truth. Hope she’d accept your shitty excuse of an apology. But as you lay here in this room right now, back arched and Billy in between your legs, you know that day won’t be any time soon.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
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leonistic · 2 months
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to put on a show || lilia vanrouge
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if there was one thing the pop music club of nrc could do, it was be (remotely, occasionally, if you will) reliable. comprised of night raven college's three most interesting individuals, the band usually did little in terms of musical accomplishment, preferring to lounge about and gossip, creating closer bonds via conversation rather than music.
and in the moonlight, as the crowd roared the lyrics of their favourite songs, you cheered until your throat began to ache for your best friend strumming his guitar rapidly- lilia vanrouge. "thank you for the love, nrc! we're really grateful for the crowd!" cater announces from behind him as you crane your neck to take a better look at the ginger, but to no avail.
"this is the final song for tonight," lilia starts in his fatherly sort of tone as kalim cheers towards the other end of the stage. "you'll have to forgive me for any errors- i wrote it myself." the crowd surrounding you roars to life once again as the housewardens collected in one area stare at the united force of over 4000 mages and as the song flows beneath the stars, you hum the ever-familiar tune, eyes widening as lilia closes with a tribute.
to the ramshackle prefect, the glue of nrc. thank you for everything you've done in this one year.
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requested by @wren-dly-flowergarden on my old blog! i hope you like it :3 because i didn't (i mean, it's okay. not great. feel free to request again if you didn't like it fjhgfjdks like 100%) platonic!lilia, btw :DDD
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ughthisisntright · 9 months
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Nsfw Silco request; drunk Silco. 🍻
oooo drunk silco.... this'll be fun.
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Thumping could be heard from outside the bedroom door. You were sat in bed with a book, half-asleep but jostled awake from the sounds outside the door. Silco's bedroom door, you'd found out, was not at all sound proof.
You carefully slipped from the blankets when you heard a muffled grunt followed by a particularly heavy thud. You opened the door to Silco's bedroom slowly and saw something that you'd surely be retelling the tale about for years to come.
Silco - piss-drunk - struggling to get up off the floor of his office. His left foot crossed over his right, simply not balanced and causing him to continue tumbling over. He was grumbling something about his boots, how the soles were too slippery or whatever. You simply bit your knuckle to keep from laughing.
What seemed like an hour passed as Silco finally got his footing and stood straight. He huffs from frustration and exhaustion and shakes out his shoulders. His jacket is gone, his cravat is crooked, and his usually pale cheeks are flushed. When the floor creaked beneath you, his head whipped in your direction.
"Oh, no," he groaned. "I'm woke you!"
You snickered and walked toward him, just a few steps.
"I was awake, love," you spoke softly. "You came in like gangbusters." He shook his head at your comment, a smirk tugging at his scarred lips.
"I was quiet as a mouse," he argued. "'Cept for when I toppled over. That wasn't quiet 't all!"
You walked right up to him and straightened his cravat gently. His eyes bore into yours as you worked on him, the goofy man who once stood before you becoming the brooding, domineering Eye of Zaun you were more familiar with from this distance. His hands - albeit a little less steady than normal - came to rest on your hips to tug you closer. You glanced up at him with an innocent enough smile.
"Can I help you, darling?" Your voice came out as a purr.
"Oh, you know you can," his lips collide with yours in a sloppy kiss. No real method or reason other than connection. You could feel the desire burning within him. This always happened when he drank.
You felt soon that you were the intoxicated one. Your head swam as he pushed you back into your shared bedroom and onto your back. Within moments, the thin fabric of your panties came flying off, and his cock was pressing against your soaked cunt. His breathing was more labored from the stupor but it made him more vocal than usual.
"Oh, my love," he groaned as he pushed inside you. "I'm going to make you scream."
Your moan of approval pulled the animal out of him, a rough and unrelenting pace being set above you. His hips snapped against yours so hard, you wanted to scream in pain if it didn't feel so good. Orgasms given like candy and Silco's voice above you added to the incredible feelings, the filth dripping from his lips sinful in it's delivery.
"Such a disgusting girl. Upstairs in bed, just your underwear - fuck - and ready for me to fuck you," he growled the words. "Always ready for me to fuck you."
You cried out in pleasure as he drives into you harder. Seeing stars, having lost count of how many orgasms he's given you with his impressive drunken stamina.
Finally after what felt like ages, and your body feeling like mush, Silco buried himself inside you and came so hard, he actually screamed. The man rarely raised his voice. And he was screaming for you.
After a few moments, you giggled. He looked down at you with a concerned look.
"You should drink more often."
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Part of my 100 Followers Party!
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s-aint-elmo · 1 year
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digging out the eah content i created in a frenzy during last year’s summer of obsession part 1: my personal sapphic multishipping guide (created to explain to my friends which of these dolls i think should hold hands)
(more in-depth discussion of the ships below the cut)
the polycule that will take over ever after
kitty/lizzie; kitty/maddie; maddie/lizzie
self-explanatory. frequently purchased together do not separate. bonus shoutout to maddie canonically giving kitty a little kissie on the cheek and getting off scot-free in the books though. a wonderlandiful world was a banquet to me
cedar protection squad
once again a wonderlandiful world and once upon a time i owe you my life. kitty ESP being so adamant abt not giving a shit then turning around and fucking up those boys who were mean to cedar...... i love friendship
kitty/cerise
also self-explanatory. she was a catgirl she was a wolfgirl can i make it anymore obvious. also doribuki’s phenomenal fake dating fanfic....... transformative foundational transcendental
cerise/raven
YOU MUST UNDERSTAND. i entered eah a rapple shipper and exited the book series ready to burn at the stake for cerise/raven. book two was SO MUCH. it had everything. raven befriending cerise despite her attempts to isolate herself. texting in class. winking at each other. raven meeting the parents and hearing embarrassing baby cerise stories. cerise putting it all on the line to save raven. i’m ambivalent about shadow high but cerise gets literally one (1) mention and it’s in raven’s internal monologue wherein she equates cerise’s hood w feelings of warmth and safety. like how was that in any way necessary. i rest my case 
raven & maddie
self-explanatory as well. dabesties. the ride or dies. it means so much to me that raven always has a friend in maddie no matter how many clowns and jokers (derogatory) treat her like the antichrist. maddie the character ever
raven/apple
WHAT IT SAYS ON THE TIN. the gelphie dynamic is a classic and i am EXTREMELY vulnerable to it. they are THE ship and i will pay my respects to the end of time. i am a big fan of how they trade their roles throughout the franchise and how rich the drama and history are between them. it’s pure fucking poetry.
raven/darling
TBH. a serve. the only thing juicier than evil queen/damsel in distress is evil queen/princess charming. big big fan of darling giving raven the five star princess treatment after a lifetime of being feared and shunned and vilified. equally big fan of raven’s momentous act of rebellion giving darling the courage to be true to herself. ALSO. the absolute archetype-subversion slay of the Pure-Hearted Hero(TM) confronting the Mistress of Evil(TM) and dropping their sword. looking through the smoke and mirrors and the will of Fate itself to see the girl who has wanted nothing but to be kind beneath. swearing their heart and soul and sword to the one true good they have found. picture it. i can almost see the 100-word drabble
raven/apple/darling
now THIS is just THE fairytale couple. the evil queen, the damsel in distress and the princess charming ALL holding hands and riding off into the sunset together. dappling on its own doesn’t do it for me but raven in the mix just makes everything gel perfectly. she’s the tomato in the ratatouille the cornstarch in the spring roll water, etc etc
darling/holly
this is one of those ships where i read a really convincing fic and the more i thought of it the more it just made sense. like they'd read swashbucklers and tales of courtly love together. holly would 100% write a darling placeholder in her self-insert romance fanfic pre-relationship as a way to express her feelings. darling would 100% find out and gently pull her out of the pit of sheer mortification she drilled into the ground to escape. also the height difference is a thing of beauty
safe from the polycule
duchess/poppy
they have one singular episode to their name and it was enough. it was Everything. the dynamic you can extrapolate from that one single interaction is so incredibly appealing to me. duchess’s bitchiness belied by her palpable air of vulnerability coming up against poppy’s spine of steel tempered by her skill in gaining perspective. poppy can challenge duchess into being a better person and duchess can be poppy’s character flaw like idk she just has shit taste in women that was the price she had to pay to be moisturized and unbothered by destiny. i just think they have the potential to be the unexpected, inexplicable power couple of eah
briar/faybelle
do i even need to say anything they had a whole movie to make their case. they’re rapple if rapple got their shit together before armageddon, with the bonus of a potential curse-breaking true love’s kiss for the fanfic authors to thrash between their teeth. truly unlimited. also unlike rapple where raven is 100% against being a villain and therefore it’s apple who has to do the mental gymnastics to open herself to the possibility of a relationship w raven, faybelle is just chomping at the bit to make her momma proud and presents a compelling perspective for the whole “falling in love w your fated nemesis” thing
blondie/cupid
they are icons, they are legends, and they ARE the moment. these two are so chaotic individually, what with blondie’s criminal skillset and habit of menacing innocent woodland creatures and cupid’s matchmaking powers combined w her shitty aim, that putting them together can only mean good things. there’s this whole element of their shared passion as public figures who at their best seek the truth and guide others through matters of the heart respectively that’s always interesting as a point of irony/obstacle when they start catching feelings and have to decide what to do with them. their joint youtuber/podcaster slay can level nations
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andkisses · 8 months
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♡ dawn | yeonjun ♡
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waking up in the morning with you by his side is always sweet
♡ yeonjun x gn!reader | wc. 578  ♡ genres/tropes: fluff!  ♡ mentions of/warnings: use of pet names  ♡ a/n: prompt: peppering the other's face with kisses; thank you for 100+ followers!! i’m planning on a special event soon <3  ♡ masterlist ♡
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Yeonjun awakes at once. He knows he dreamt about something, but it’s gone, faded as reality takes hold. His room pieces itself together one by one. the window, with the shades and blinds just so, the early morning sunlight coming through to kiss away the remaining night. His pillow beneath his cheek, the bed beneath him, a comforter up to his chin despite the heat.
Slowly, his body wakes up too, more and more with each blink. One hand beneath his chin. The other arm slung out, stretched, hooked over a hip.
He’s instinctively pulling closer, because you’re too far away.
Ah.
A lazy, love drunk smile curls its way onto Yeonjun’s lips. You. His darling. His love. His dear. There is never a name perfect enough for you, so he uses them all.
You’re sleeping still, head tilted and nose pressed into the pillow. His hand leaves your hip–oh, how he wishes he could take your warmth with him wherever he goes–to brush your hair out of your eyes. It had come loose, he supposes, while you slept.
He sees your face–one he has memorized yet never tires of. The way your lashes lay on your cheeks. How your lips pout slightly in your sleep. The gentle, almost imperceptible rise and fall of your breathing. 
And suddenly, like a star falling from the sky, an idea strikes Yeonjun. Now he’s wide awake.
He moves slowly so as to not wake you–yet. The comforter falls away from his shoulders as he pushes himself upright. He leans down, pressing his lips to your temple. He pauses, relishing how you feel. He wishes he could imbue all his love into with a single kiss.
But, since he knows a single kiss won’t do, Yeonjun keeps going.
A kiss, just below the last. A kiss, on the side of your nose. Your cheek, beneath your ear, the edge of your jaw. Yeonjun doesn’t stop, pressing sweet nothings into your skin. Maybe, if he can’t take your warmth with him, then you can have all of his.
You stir, and Yeonjun’s smile is back, soft and doting. Your eyes blink open, looking around before taking in Yeonjun in front and above you. “Hi, baby,” he coos.
You taste sweet, like cherries, when Yeonjun finally gets to kiss your lips. Yes, he loves kissing you. He would kiss every inch, every moment of your skin if he could. But kissing you?
Oh so different. 
And oh so much better.
Your hand comes up to palm up the column of his neck, into the hair at his nape, just to hold him closer. Yeonjun shivers at your touch that he, too, has memorized. His hand cups your cheek. His mind is full of good things he knows you deserve.
Good things he would do anything for you to have.
When the kiss finds its natural break, Yeonjun flops down beside you. The sunlight pours in around his curtains now, making the room rich and aglow. Yeonjun sighs as you cuddle up into him, offering a good morning, love muttered into the fabric of his shirt and the crook of his neck. His arms hold you close.
The day will march on, Yeonjun knows. But for now, this moment is endless, and his happiness limitless. The kiss you rise up to plant on the corner of his lips before snuggling back down, hand safely on his chest against hist heart, is confirmation enough for Yeonjun.
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focsle · 7 months
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have you written anything about tattoos? is that relevant? don't know how your niche lines up with generic "sailor" tradition, but wikipedia simply says on knuckle tats that deckhands may get "HOLD / FAST" as a charm to support their grip on rigging, and i thought that was kind of cute.
I haven't written anything myself, mostly cos if you throw a stick out in the internet you'll find any number of articles about the symbolism of sailor tattoos, like hold fast and pigs and roosters and swallows and all that!
In my narrow window (the middle decades of the 19th century), I don't see tattoos mentioned all too often, compared to late 19th and throughout the 20th century where they became more common. For instance, this register of seaman's protection certificates (which are admittedly limited in the scope of things, since they're only from a few specific ports) from 1796-1871 rarely list tattoos as distinguishing marks, beyond the odd mention of being marked with an inked anchor, eagle, or letters here or there. Here's a neat jstor article (if you have any more of your 100 free monthly articles to read with a google account) that goes into late 18th-early 19th c tattoos that has some tables and visuals. The research was also done using seaman's protection certificates, with the following stat:
"The SPC-A records start in 1796 and include tattooed men born as early as 1746. There were 979 tattooed men out of a total of 9,772 men whose records survive from 1796 through 1818.26 These men were marked with a total of about 2,354 separate designs."
So, not a large number, but also 10% isn't insignificant. The protection certificates while a reliable source, also only describe the man in one specific moment. I'm sure a few of those men who just have their moles and scars and crooked fingers listed eventually picked up a tattoo or two in their time. Most journal keepers perhaps didn't think it important to mention who had tattoos or what of, though the typical motifs of anchors, nautical stars, girls, religious & patriotic imagery, etc. were certainly a part of the visual language at this point. Whaler William Abbe who sailed in the 1850s, devoted considerable attention to describing the physical appearance of some of his shipmates. In one instance, he wrote about the tattoos of one 'Johnny Come Lately' or 'Jack Marlinspike' (Real name, John Hewes of Buffalo NY)
'from beneath this cap his face looms out - while beneath supporting his comical head is a bare neck and breast — hairy + brown —the upper timbers to a stout hull of a boat that boast a pair of arms all covered with India ink tattooings — the figure of American Liberty — Christ on the cross — an American Tar holding a star spangled banner in one hand + a coil of rope in the other — a fancy girl — + anchors, rings, crosses, knots, stars all over his wrists + hands — the memorials of different ports he has visited — for Jack has been in all kinds of vessels from a man of war to a blubber hunter — + has consequently been to many ports.'
From the logbook of another whaler who sailed in the early 1840s, James Moore Ritchie, he had a page of his drawings with prices included. This potentially may have been a tattoo flash sheet for his shipmates:
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American whalers also noted the tattoos of indigenous people who had signed on to whaling vessels, particularly in the South Pacific. William B. Whitecar, whaling in the 1850s wrote: "Several New Zealanders in the respective crews of these vessels attracted my attention from the tattooing on their bodies" making mention of "figures on their face and breast".
I'm too sleepy to have a conclusion lol. Tattoos! They existed! Though perhaps not as ubiquitously as the pop culture sailor designs would imply, at least prior to the late 19th c.
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lovelynim · 16 days
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Take 9, recording!
ALIEN STAGE/Actors!AU - Ivan x Till
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A/N: Really, really self-indulgent fic because I NEEDED to get some fluff after the damage Round 6 did to me. Also, I added a little hc that TIll is an experience actor while Ivan is still a newbie, etc, etc, you know the drill
Also, tagging @blobbirobbi, @norieoncrack and @vash-yuu because you three gave me the boost to do it this afternoon. Also tagging @tiredleekaz because i feel you'll like this (hopefully)
Summary: Round 6's recording site. Stage scene. Take... 9, sigh. Lights, camera... action!
Word count: 1305 words.
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“Alright, let’s do it, guys!” The director shouted and the rest of the team promptly took their places. The camera pointed towards Till and Ivan as the studio was quickly engulfed by silence.
“Here we go… ‘Cure’, stage scene, take 9. Action,” the director commanded and the first beats of the song began to play right after. The spotlight turned to Till and, so, it began.
“Allow me, to the tip of your fingers. Allow me, to the ends of your feet.”
Ivan quietly hummed the song along while the cameras tilted around the other man, capturing the crowd’s motion in the background while Till’s voice took all the room in the studio. Ivan knew the team was tired and probably beginning to feel a little frustrated after a couple of mistakes, but he couldn’t help but enjoy every moment of it.
“Dissolve me in your gaze. I don’t want to let you go.”
‘Damn, he looks so cool right now’, Ivan thought as a smirk took place in his lips. The song went on and Ivan knew he had to focus. This was supposed to be a dramatic, emotional, tragic scene. He couldn’t be booping to the song they spent hours recording. Focus, Ivan, focus!
As Till continued to sing, Ivan decided it was a good time to rehearsal his lines. Maybe this would put him back in the right mood for this scene and, after all, he didn’t want to start the 10th take because he made the same mistake from 4 takes ago.
“Let me drown in you, until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time!”
Wait, was he at that part already?
Ivan opened his eyes and looked at the other guy with a slightly shocked expression. Gulping, he clenched his hands as he heard the piano keys starting to play in the background again. Time to shine, Ivan.
With heavy steps, Ivan walked towards his microphone. The camera was tilting right above him and it was a bit hard to keep a straight face, but he had to!
“Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes.”
Carefully and gently, Ivan took his hands up and wrapped his fingers around the microphone. Holding it tightly, one word after the other left his lips and, as scripted, he was singing.
“May they linger on your tongue. You can break me apart.”
Narrowed eyes stared back at the camera in front of him. To the ones looking from the outside, Ivan seemed like the most confident actor in history, literally living up to his character. But on the inside, he couldn’t help but feel some nervousness stirring up. What if he sang the wrong line? What if he looked ugly on the recording? What if his voice cracked?!
No, it wasn’t time to think about those things. He managed to look at Till with the corner of his eyes and, even when he was idling, the sorrowful, tired look continued to stick to his face. So professional!
“Sick of those nights to come, to be engulfed by silence in your gaze where I’m seen. Consume me! Yes, me, oh oh!! ~”
Ivan would only be sure once they were done recording this scene, but he was almost 100% he nailed this part. He could feel his vocal chords slightly tiring, but nowhere near enough to make him stop.
And above anything else, the most important scene of this episode was coming up. The kiss.
“To this everlasting moment.”
“Face to face we dance.”
Ivan let out a small sigh as his last line was sung. Just as the words left his lips, the pages of the script started playing inside his head. ‘With a decisive move, you throw your microphone aside and walk to him’, he remembered the director explaining, detailing how it should be done.
“With our story lost in forever’s embrace!! ~”
Ivan felt literally chills running up his back when his eyes met Till’s. As a newbie actor, starring with someone as experienced as him was always an emotional rollercoaster, full of surprising moments that he would treasure forever. But not now. Now, he needed to focus.
Gently reaching for the other guy’s cheek, Ivan moved his hand to the back of Till’s head and pulled him into a kiss.
Part of himself questioned if he was supposed to enjoy recording this part over and over as much as he was doing, but knowing how annoyed the rest of the studio’s staff was at his mistakes, he would never voice such thoughts.
The instrumental played along with the flashing lights above them. Ivan only remembered the instructions that he should make the kiss last while Till would try to shove him away, but the director never said how, so there shouldn’t be much harm in improvising a little, right?
Ivan wrapped his free hand around Till’s slim torso, resting his fingers just below the other’s ribcage. Till pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him away like the script told him to, but Ivan knew this wasn’t the lead to let him go, so he pulled the other man for another kiss.
However, there was something off. 
He was told that, yes, Till was going to try to break their kiss and free himself, but it shouldn’t be… this effective, Ivan thought. Deciding that it would be better to just play along, Ivan moved his hand down to Till’s neck while the other pressed a little harder against his side, hoping this would be enough to keep him still to the end of the scene.
But with barely seconds before the time for the score to pop up above their heads and show his character’s demise, Ivan noticed that Till… was laughing?
“Pfft- d-duhuhude!” TIll giggled, elbowing his arm in another attempt to free himself from his embrace. “Q-quit tihihickling, ahaha!”
“H-huh?” Ivan blinked, looking down to the little space between their bodies and taking a few seconds to realize what the other guy meant. “Wait, you mean this?”
“GyAHah, y-yes! Thahat, d-don’t dohohoh it! I’m tihihicklish there!” Till laughed, throwing his head back (and maybe trusting a little too much in Ivan’s strength to hold him in place).
A fuzzy, warm feeling spread over Ivan’s chest as he heard those words. What a wonderful discovery! How could he not notice this before?! “Ahah, sorry… I mean, I didn’t expect this or this to be enough to tickle you, Till, ~” Ivan teased, carelessly spidering his fingers against Till’s side and ribs.
Before he realized, there were them again: fooling in the middle of the set. Till laughing, desperately trying to escape his hug while the only worry inside Ivan’s mind was to find where else his senior would be ticklish.
“Ivan! C’mohohon!” Till laughed while the lights of the studio turned back on, illuminating the whole scene again as this take was already beyond salvation. “I cahahan’t breheheathe!”
“Oh? But you are-”
“Guys!” The director protested, making the duo stop in the middle of the scene with a surprised look on their faces. Right, they were recording. And with people around them. A lot of people. “Sigh, let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes, everybody.”
Despite the feeling of animosity towards them that seemed to spread across the rest of the staff, Ivan couldn’t stop himself from smiling and, much to his delight, the same seemed to go for Till.
“S-sorry, ahah, this one is my fault,” Till giggled as he got back into his own feet, rubbing his side where Ivan just tickled him. “Try to just, hmm… Hold my face?”
“Got it, I will keep that in mind,” Ivan hummed happily while walking off the stage by TIll’s side. Well, guess they couldn’t do much but wait for the next take now, right?
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