#her curls during this performance

[distantdarlings]

BY THE FIREPLACE // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 2.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* You have been an Animagus for around a year now. You have quite a knack for learning everything you need to know about it quickly and Professor McGonagall really likes you. However, a fellow classmate, Theodore Nott, does not like you. And you couldn't care less. Both of you are in for a surprise when you accidentally meet in the library. (Fluff?, sort of Comedy)

+ WARNINGS - Language, nothing else really

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Fantasy - Mariah Carey (don't judge me)

---

“And, ladies and gentlemen, please remember: ten inches of parchment on the side effects of incorrectly transfiguring a toad back into a human!”

Professor McGonagall’s voice pierced the slight murmuring that had started amongst the crowd of students. You suppressed a groan at the assignment, knowing well enough that you’d be putting it off as long as possible. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful to be here, it was just rambling on about the properties of toad warts left over on humans after unfortunate experiments didn’t really get you going, at least, not like they did Professor McGonagall. 

You had found a kind of special liking for her after you had put yourself through the very exciting—albeit brutally difficult—process of becoming an Animagus. It had been your absolute dream since accidentally discovering that your mother was also one. You had been wandering around the garden during the summer between first and second year and had come across an absolutely beautiful doe. You had stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the creature’s beauty. Just as you were going to hold your hand out to the creature and offer it some of the grass blades clutched in your fingers, the creature before you changed entirely. Its long, graceful body curled into a small flash of light and then, without so much as a breath, your mother was back. Standing in the place of the deer. You could hardly believe your eyes.

Your mother was an Animagus and you thought you should be as well. She had warned you of the difficulties and hardships of the process and how annoying it was to have to get registered with the Ministry of Magic but you didn’t care. The wonder that had been in your eyes when you’d seen your mother transform surpassed all the cons of becoming one. You were going to be just like her. And now you were. Well…sort of. You were an Animagus but, much to your disappointment, you did not transform into a beautiful doe. You were a cat. Not a sleek black cat or a graceful Sphinx. No. You were a large, overgrown, long-haired European Maine Coon. At least, that’s what you were pretty sure you were. You hadn’t exactly performed a DNA test on your Animagi identity. You wondered if that would even work. 

The crowd of students urged you towards the door and out into the grand hallway just outside the Transfiguration classroom. The light poured through the gorgeously carved stained glass windows along the stone walls and illuminated everything in its wake. You absolutely adored the castle and its beauty and reckoned you didn’t stop and admire it as often as you should. 

A body bumped into you roughly, nearly making you lose the books clutched in your arms. You gasped at the sudden shock that went through your body when you realized you’d nearly missed a step down the staircase, your heart dropping through your ribcage.

“Hey,” you shouted. “Want to watch where you’re bloody going?”

The culprit turned with an annoyingly charming smile printed on his lips. His darkened eyes found yours amusedly and sent you a single wink. Your blood boiled.

“Sorry, darling, I’m in quite a rush,” he smirked.

“Doesn’t mean you can break through crowds like a giant,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. “Maybe you should take a second to think about the other people in this school and not just yourself for once, Nott.”

“Bite me, love.” 

Asshole. You watched the back of his head disappear amongst the rest of the students as they waded around you as if you were an island in the midst of an ocean. You could not stand that boy. He and his stupid friends had been nothing if not the most obnoxious people you’d ever met. Even from your first day, he was rude, loud, and annoying. No matter how handsome he was, he couldn’t just steamroll over people. And yet, because he wasn’t ugly in the slightest, everyone just let him do whatever he wanted. Him and all his friends. It made you so angry. 

Your eyes found your watch. You probably—erm, definitely, needed to get started on the paper for McGonagall’s class. That’s what pointed your feet toward the direction of the library. The thoughts of the warm hearth and those plush green chairs that hovered around it were calming the worries for this assignment. The library was—in your opinion—one of the most comfortable areas in the entire castle. It oozed comfort and warmth, much like your dorm room. It just felt soothing. You had noticed the amount of time you were spending in there was increasing as the days got colder. The fireplace in the dorms and common room were just as warm, of course, but those areas tended to be more populated during the day. And if you were going to get this paper done, you likely shouldn’t be surrounded by friends. You could be quite talkative when it came down to it—especially when it came down to procrastinating an assignment. 

One of the large wooden doors to the library came into view slowly as you sauntered down the stairs just before the entrance. You could practically feel the warmth radiating from the vast room. Sweetened chills broke out over your arms and a small shudder passed down your spine. You clutched your books a bit tighter to your chest as you pushed past the threshold and felt the warmth on your skin. 

You smiled gently as you made your way toward your usual fireplace. The smile on your face seemed to grow exponentially as you realized nobody was even in the general vicinity of your favorite spot and…thank Merlin…the tea cart had been brought around. The silvered, intricately designed cart that the librarian left out for wandering and cramming students sat right beside the fireplace. On it sat a few tea cups, a large, enchanted teapot that filled itself back up as soon as it was emptied, two sugar bowls, a large cream pitcher, and a few crumpets and cream horns. You might have died and gone right to the afterlife. 

You set your bags and books in your favorite armchair—the one on the left—and made your way over to the wonderful cart. You shivered in delight as you prepared yourself some tea, just the way you liked it, and grabbed a cream horn—or two. Wandlessly, you conjured the wool blanket that sat upon the foot of your bed and snuggled in amongst the cushions. This was absolutely delightful. Between the tea, the snacks, the warmth, and the dim lighting, your homework was the last thing on your tranquil mind. Your books and bag remained untouched. 

Once finished with your snack and beverage, you found yourself closely watching the curls of flames dance in the fireplace. Soon enough, absolutely without your consent, you were gently lulled to a deep sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut and your breathing stilled, your hands were curled against your chest and your knees were brought up against you. 

-

Theo rounded the corner of the main stairway just before the library. He had an enormous amount of work to do and figured he wouldn’t get anything done if he stayed with his mates. He watched his feet as they jogged down the stone steps, his bag jostling on his shoulder every few moments. 

Once past the doorway, his eyes found that set of green armchairs in the corner just in front of the fireplace. There appeared to be no one in them and he smiled a bit. Hopefully he’d be able to complete all of his work without any interruptions. 

He set his bag down beside the armchair on the right. He reckoned he should start on the paper for McGonagall’s class since it was likely going to be the most difficult way. He should probably just get it out of the way, then everything else would be a breeze. 

As he began to rummage through his bag for the appropriate materials to get started, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A white wool blanket lay spread across the other armchair and an empty tea cup, plate, and school bag were discarded beside it. He figured someone had been working there only moments ago and had slipped away for a quick bathroom break or something of the like. A groan began to build up in his throat as he realized he likely wasn’t going to be alone after all. Whatever…as long as they were quiet. 

Finally, his fingers brushed his quill set and the Transfiguration book. He pulled everything out and settled himself in the chair, preparing to get to work. A thought popped into his head as he spread everything out comfortably. He wondered who had been sitting there. If it was someone he didn’t know, he’d likely have no issue ignoring them. He kind of hoped it was none of his friends, though he could have sworn he’d seen that bag before. Maybe it was Enzo’s?

An hour or so of straight working went by before Theo came to a pause and set his things aside. He stood from the chair and pulled his body into a sweeping stretch that popped a few joints along the way. He groaned at the pleasurable release, grateful that he wasn’t so stiff anymore. His hands shoved in his trouser pockets and he began shuffling in place to try and work some feelings back into his legs. 

The person who had been there previously, he realized, had never come back. Being as curious as he was, he glanced around the library, spotting only a few fully concentrated students with their heads down. Whose stuff was this? He nonchalantly wandered over to the items and squatted down next to the bag. He picked it up gently and rolled the fabric around in his hands. He wasn’t trying to be too nosy, just wanted to see if there were any embroidered initials or names. Quickly, he flipped the top flap open only to discover a messily scrawled name imprinted over the white tag near the top of the bag. It was, much to his dismay, your name. That obnoxiously uptight girl in his Transfiguration class. Every day, in and out, rubbing everyone’s nose in the fact that you were bloody awesome at McGonagall’s class and everyone else was just shit. He wondered if you were cheating or doing some favors for other students. No way you were that good at that boring class. 

A slight movement out of the corner of his eye shocked him away from the bag. His hands frantically dropped the material and he backed away quickly, not wanting to be caught snooping. Yet, he saw nothing. He glanced around wildly trying to find the culprit of the movement but not seeing anything. He could’ve sworn he—

Another movement. From the center of the white blanket. A cat. A rather large one, at that. Yawning slightly and stretching its little limbs out. His heart nearly melted. 

“Aw,” he smiled, “hello there, love. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He slowly slid his hand over the edge of the chair’s cushion and rubbed the back of his first two fingers over your head. Unbeknownst to him and your sleepy state, both were blissfully unaware of who was touching whom. You yawned once more and curled into his touch. He laughed softly at the movement and began petting your head with a full hand. A deep rumbling purr radiated from your chest at his movements. 

You weren’t sure what about this dream was so real, but bloody hell was it comforting. An unknown character in your dream was ever so gently sliding a hand over your head and occasionally scratching under your chin. Maybe it felt odd for them to do that, but it was so relaxing you didn’t care.

He stood back up and gently scooped your curled figure up, keeping the blanket wrapped softly around you. He took a seat in your armchair and placed you on his lap. His fingernails ever so slightly scratched over your head and smoothed the hair along your back. Your thick, bushy tail curled lovingly against his chest ever so often. 

Something that you didn’t know and something that Theo didn’t know, either, was that you had the subconscious tendency to transform into your Animagi identity when sleeping. Whether as part of a dream or mumbling in your sleep, every once and a while, you would slip down to your smaller self and remain curled up as such. It had been going on for a couple of months now and you had yet to notice it. Your roommates most definitely had but they had said nothing as they assumed it was a purposeful action. They figured it would be nice to sleep as a cat as well. 

The purring emanating from your soft chest rolled against his leg as he continued to brush his fingers through your fur. Your head occasionally curled further into his stomach at these gentle actions. This might have been the most relaxing dream you’d ever had. 

“Hey, man, been looking everywhere for—”

“Shush!” Theo berated the loud voice. Mattheo came around the back of the armchair with a look of confusion plastered on his face. He glanced down to see the feline stretched across his lap, an eyebrow raised.

“The baby is sleeping,” Theo whispered, smiling gently. His hands never stopped brushing you. 

“Did you find him—?”

“Oh my god, shhhhh!” Theo repeated. Pansy and Enzo followed the same path that Mattheo had. And just like him, their eyebrows cocked awkwardly. All three of them glanced at the other.

“I told all of you I was going to the library to get some homework done,” Theo whispered.

“Yeah, it sure looks like you’re getting a ton done,” Pansy rolled her eyes.

“I was...,” Theo insisted, “before this baby wandered up. Isn’t she just the cutest?”

“Yeah, adorable,” Mattheo mocked, a smile building its way onto his face. “I’d love to have McGonagall Jr. sat on my lap, if you know what I mean.”

Enzo and Pansy’s faces blended from blank to confusion to realization to stifled laughter. Theo was extremely confused and becoming a little irritated. 

“Ew, what is that supposed to mean? I don’t think all cats are related to Professor McGonagall—wait, she’s not even really a cat, she can turn into one. I don’t think she’s really related to any cats,” Theo argued.

“Yeah, man—not what I meant,” Mattheo laughed. His two companions began to laugh with him. “Whose bag and stuff is that?”

Theo glanced down at the bag and snack plate that had been left behind as he refrained from rolling his eyes. He probably shouldn’t admit he knew who the stuff belonged to as he totally figured it out by snooping, but they didn’t necessarily have to know that.

“That’s that really irritating girl that’s in McGonagall’s with us, you know? The one I ran into this morning and was like ‘Why don’t you watch where you’re going, blah, blah,’ do you remember?” Theo spoke.

“Yeah, I remember,” Enzo giggled. “It’s almost like she's still in the room with us.”

“I know, that’s her stuff,” he nodded in the direction of the things left behind. “I was wondering when she was going to come back and get it but it’s been like an hour and she hasn’t come back.” Theo shrugged and returned his focus back to you who still remained curled comfortably in his lap. His thumb brushed over your closed eyes and ears. 

“Did she ever leave?” Pansy laughed. “Maybe she's still here.”

“Maybe so, I didn’t go looking for her, though,” Theo responded, brushing a finger down the slope of your nose.

“Yeah, she was acting kind of catty earlier,” Enzo spoke. The three students burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs and flicking tears from their eyes. Anger rose up the side of Theo’s neck.

“What is your deal? Is something funny? Anybody want to fill me in on the joke?” he asked. They remained laughing as hard as they could, almost as if they wanted to annoy Theo further.

“Whatever, me and my new friend are going to study elsewhere. At least she doesn't laugh at me,” he harrumphed and grabbed his things, keeping you cradled tightly in your blanket in his right arm. The three students didn’t stop laughing the whole way as Theo stomped off, taking you with him, and touching his nose to yours with a smile. 

“Oh, Merlin,” Pansy chuckled, a tear falling from her eyes. “So we all knew that she's an Animagus, right?”

“Yeah, she told me last year when her acceptance letter from the Ministry came in. She was pretty excited about it.” Enzo struggled not to start laughing again. “She's really nice and really smart, I think Theo can be a bit much sometimes.”

“Yeah, I agree with that….” Pansy responded. There was a few moments of silence before Mattheo tilted his head towards the other two.

“So, we’re sticking around for when she wakes up and realizes she's sitting on Theo’s lap wrapped up in a blanket like a child, right?” he laughed. The other two chorused a variety of ‘yes’ and ‘absolutely,’ as they made themselves comfortable at a table near the one Theo had assigned as his. This was quite possibly going to be the best thing that ever happened.

Part Two!

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #reader insert #slytherin #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson #gender neutral reader

[cupid-styles]

the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)

in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).

I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

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. . .

When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.

What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”

So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.

She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”

Easy enough, right?

But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 

But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 

She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.

“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”

She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.

Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”

Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.

With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.

. . .

“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”

She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 

“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”

She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 

She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 

Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”

Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”

“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”

He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”

She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 

“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”

“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”

“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 

It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Can you shut the door?” 

Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”

“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”

“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”

Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.

“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 

“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”

“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”

Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.

“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”

“That’s awful for you, Harry.”

He shoots her an angry look. 

“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”

“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”

Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.

“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”

She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”

He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”

She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 

“What?” 

“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 

“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 

She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 

“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”

It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”

He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 

#writing #hockey h #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot

[explicit-tae]

Carnal Desire (1/3)

The last person you expected to see was an ‘old friend’ from nearly a decade ago, but you’re determined to show the man that you’re no longer the little girl he use to know. @bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111

Word Count: 2.070

Warning: smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, haegeum type vibes fr fr, grinding, finger sucking, the reader is down bad, but so is yoongi, kissing, sucking,

“You’ll do amazing, really!” Bunny - your co-worker - says as she pats the highlighter upon your cheekbones. “You’re already on your way to becoming a favorite.”

You take a deep breath and nod.

“Please stay focused. We have very important people tonight.”

And there it was, your nerves kicking back in once more.

You only been here for a week - the high end strip club is more than you imagined. You often thought it would be littered with creeps and smelt of cheap booze and cigarettes - but maybe you just chose the right one. 

Your name is being called now and from behind the curtains, you notice the lights dim, and the red spotlight appears. You clicked your heels, rounding the curtain and made your way towards the middle of the stage. It’s amazing how you were able to turn your nerves off when needed be - you were highly grateful that you didn’t need any liquid courage to do so.

Bunny was correct when she said it would be a busy night - and the important people she spoke of had to be front and center. You sway your hips to the pole, hooking a leg around it and swinging as you do - a routine you practiced for the past two days.

You often don’t look into the crowd while performing - you were a natural overthinker and the last thing you needed was to mess up in front of a group of men. However, this was different. You had important people here tonight and your boss informed each dancer tonight to “appear” available and interested.

You regret taking her advice.

You drop to your knees slow and sultry, crawling towards the edge of the stage. Smoking typically wasn't allowed, but important guests always got their way. Your eyes focus on the man smoking and you froze.

Those eyes - such cold and feline-like eyes. They flash in your mind and you were brought back to your childhood; specifically your teenage years. As the smoke clears, as does your vision on the man - pale, porcelain-like skin, hard eyes and a low smirk on his lips.

Yoongi.

Min Yoongi was before you. He was the important guest tonight - he looked it. Even in the sea of people, you can smell the expensive cologne mixed with the nicotine smell. He appeared clean shaven and had not aged since you last saw him a decade prior.

Yoongi brings the cigarette back into his lips, his fingers curling as he does so. Your eyes glance to his hands, large and veiny and full of shining diamonds. 

Your eyes begin to grow dry and you blink. You finally inhale to not have your head go any more lightheaded than necessary. 

You hear a hiss of your name and your body immediately reacts. You begin to crawl once more, your eyes on nobody but Yoongi now. He furrows a brow and appears amused and curious.

Min Yoongi was before you.

Your Min Yoongi.

The same Min Yoongi that your father despised - called him a thug and everything but a decent human being. Father’s never approved of their little girls being hooked on an older man - but he was only two years older; if that. The same Min Yoongi who you had once admitted to loving during too many drinks and even when you insisted on showing him you weren’t a little girl, he never took advantage of your advances.

Min Yoongi was before you now - and you weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a woman that grew into her curves and appearance, and you were determined to show him just that.

It’s crazy to think that just one look at him made you feel as you did as a teenager - shy, but willing, giddy and wanting to prove yourself to him.

Yoongi leans closer to the stage just as you lean forward. Your manicured hand grasps his large ones and grasps the cigarette. You were never a smoker - he knows this. But he only smirks as you take a puff of it and blow it at him.

Your time was up, but your eyes linger onto Yoongi’s longer as you exit the stage. You feel it all fall on you at once - the nerves and nausea. Yoongi was here. He had seen you like this - what was he thinking? Has he remembered you? 

“What was that?” Bunny heels slam against the floor as she rushes to you. “Do you know who that is?”

Yes. “No.”

Bunny’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Suga is?”

Suga. Yoongi must have made another name for himself. He was once someone your father considered bad news and you can only guess what he was into back then - but Yoongi is a man now. He surrounded himself with men, him directly in the middle. He was an important member of whatever society he ran with; you didn’t really care much to ask.

“I was told to entertain the guests.” you shrug your shoulders. “Suga seems to be a very important person.”

Bunny nods with wide eyes. “Extremely. He dabbles in organized crime and is one of our biggest spenders here. You-”

“Y/N.”

You freeze, as does Bunny. 

“I’m dead.” you murmur to Bunny who slowly nods.

Your boss’ eyes are upon you when you turn. Her arms are crossed as she motions you to follow her. 

“I-I didn’t mean-”

“You aren’t in trouble.” your boss murmurs as you saunter towards her. “Seems like your little stunt caught Suga’s eye. He never pays for a dance.”

Yoongi did remember you.

Your heart races as your boss points to the back rooms, the further room in the back. The only room without a camera.

You look yourself over in the mirror. Your hair appeared to be in place still, as did your makeup. Your lingerie hugs you nicely and your heels were just an added bonus. 

It grows hotter and quieter as you make your way down the hall to the back room - a V.I.P section. You slide the door open and make your way in. Yoongi is seated upon the round, leather section. The room is surrounded with mirrors and low lights. On the table forward him is a large bottle of champagne - the most expensive there was at the club - and two glasses.

“Sit.” Yoongi says as you close the door behind you. He goes to pour both glasses of champagne, handing you one as you round the table.

“Thank you.” you murmur. It takes everything in you not to melt - but you are grown now and no longer the shy teenage girl.

You sit on his lap, legs swinging to trap him between your thighs. Your eyes meet his as you drink the champagne.

Yoongi’s pink tongue coats his lips as he leans back into the couch. He doesn’t go to move you from your laps, and even if you did, you wouldn’t leave without a fight. After all, he paid for your services - private dances weren’t cheap and especially not in the V.I.P backroom.

You discard your glass beside you without a care, licking your own lips.

“Y/N…Y/N…”

Your arms are fresh with goosebumps when you hear his voice say your name. He down the champagne, free hand rubbing against your thigh to your waist. 

“How much you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” Yoongi finally says as he finishes the champagne, discarding his own glass to the side.

“I can say the same for you…” you begin to roll your hips. “...Suga.” All the girls are informed to not be so close to a client. They paid for a certain amount of time - and in that time you were told to stall, only sitting upon them at the last few minutes of the dance.

Yoongi’s hands are as large as you know them to be, both now cupping your waist. 

“How is it that when my name comes from your lips it sounds sweeter than ever before?”

Yoongi’s eyes rack over your figure.

You were no longer the little girl who followed him around against her father’s wishes. No, you were now a woman - a full grown woman who grew into her chest and hips. He recalls the amount of times he (against your own knowledge) would have to assure no creep used your naivety to their advantage.

Yoongi’s girl is what they called you - even back then. No matter how much he told anyone that you were nothing but a close friend to him; someone he would protect because he had a heart.

“Where have you been?” Yoongi allows his curiosity to get the best of him. He was no fool in knowing the pure hatred your father had for him - even if Yoongi never took advantage of your feelings for him. When you were old enough to consider making your own decision, you were shipped far away from Daegu - and that was ten years ago.

You continued your lap dance, your hands placing themselves on his shoulders. Yoongi is but a man and his eyes rack your figure in the tight lingerie, large hands rubbing up your side with a lick of his lips once more.

“My dad sent me to live with my aunt and continue school there.” you respond. “I came back when he got sick.”

Yoongi furrows a brow. Your father was sick. He hasn’t seen the man since he last saw you.

“Dropped out of school to take care of him. Now I’m here.” you roll your hips against the bulge forming in his pants. “With you.”

Yoongi feels your hands rub from his shoulders to his torso.

“What about you, Suga? You seem to have made a name for yourself.”

Yoongi was being far too modest for your liking. You grasp his hands in yours, eyes staring right into his. You allow his hands to roam your body, setting them right onto your breasts.

“I have.” Yoongi murmurs, voice deeper. “I own this city now, baby.”

You swallow at the pet name, leaning closer. You want to capture his lips with your own - they were so rosy and soft. 

“I bet you do.” you murmur, warm breath against his lips. “Does someone run it with you?”

Yoongi tilts his head. He gives you a snicker. “You still got that crush, huh?” he teases. He squeezes your breast lightly before his right hand cups your check.

You grow hot at his words, swallowing thickly. You wouldn’t allow him to treat you like the same little girl you once were. You were an adult - you were in control of your own desires. 

“It’s more than a crush now. I’m not a little girl.”

Yoongi knows this - he wants to tell you just how much you’ve grown since the last time he saw you. 

“I can show you how much it’s grown.” 

Yoongi can’t take his eyes from you. Your tongue peeks out and wraps around his thumb. You suck on it, eyes boring into his own. His cock twitches at the sultry act.

“Y/N…”

You moved fast. From sucking onto his thumb to your lips upon his. Your thighs clenched him beneath you tightly, never wanting to let go. 

Yoongi loses himself in your touch, arms wrapping around your bare body, touching skin he never knew he would ever long to touch. 

Your tongue dances with him, his hands cupping your ass, guiding you to continue to grind against his bulge.

“I want you, Yoongi.” you murmur against his lips. 

“I know, baby.” Yoongi grunts. “I know…”

Your teeth clasps down onto his bottom lips, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Then take me.”

Yoongi shudders, holding onto you even tighter.

“You can have me. All of me.”

Yoongi shakes his head, breathing quickening. Your words ring in his ears non-stop.

“I want to be your girl.” you continue - you refused to hear anything other than approval. “You can have all of me right now and forever.”

Yoongi lips are against the skin of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. Your words are getting to him, his cock begging to take you.

But you weren’t a common whore - not just some pussy to wet his cock. You were someone he cared for deeply.

“You are my girl.”

Your lips meet his once more and your heart feels satisfied - it’s the same words you wanted to hear for years now.

Part 2 | Part 3

#yoongi x reader #mafia bts #bts mafia #yoongi mafia #suga x reader #bts smut #bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #min yoongi #bts suga #bts yandere #yoongi yandere #bangtanwriters net #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #yoongi smut #carnal desire #suga smut #explicit-tae #haegeum

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Dance (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd attending a ball and being bored to tears until you appear in the crowd.

A/n- thanks to everyone who read and supported my other Feyd fic!! I hope you all enjoy this one too :)

Word Count: 1,353

Warnings: none

The ballroom is overrun with diplomats and politicians. All dressed up in their very best attire, each one is hoping to impress those richer and more influential than themselves.

Feyd observes with a bored demeanour, swirling the blood red wine in his goblet. He’s leaning against a white pillar, staring out at the people with keen dark eyes.

A celebration of this degree isn’t something to be missed, his Uncle had said, insisting on his attendance.

So he attends, although he is bored from the lack of any meaningful conversations or actions. The feast was the best part, his favourite piece a bloody rare steak that practically melted in his mouth.

No one has come to speak with him out of a desire to just chat. No, each person who spoke had an ulterior motive and fear in their eyes. They want to be on the Harkonnen’s good side, lest they become victims instead. So, they chat about inconsequential things, all the while their hands shake and betray their frayed nerves.

Feyd found it amusing at first, but has since grown tired of it. These fickle politics and the endless pursuit of money. Money and power make this universe worth living in.

Music begins to play, a sensual drum beat joined by the strumming of string instruments and an angelic vocalizer. The sea of mingling people part as they allow the dancers the necessary space to move.

Feyd’s lips curl as he watches people join in the dance, the ballroom finally used for its original purpose.

People in skin tight dresses, fashionable suits, those showing too much skin, some showing none- the room is flooded with a menagerie of humans.

Each one is dancing with a partner, bending and swaying to the rhythm. All accept one.

He watches her move in perfect synchronization with the lilting music, lifting her arms high in the air. She avoids the stuffy aristocratic dancers who hardly allow the music to carry them.

She looks like a woman possessed. As if the melody has taken root deep within her and bids her to perform a marvellous spell.

It must be a spell, for he finds himself bewitched.

No one else has captured his attention so profoundly this whole event. He hasn’t even spoken with her yet and oh how he wishes too.

He must.

Feyd has never before desired to dance. Not unless it was the dance of battle, of blades clashing and blood dripping.

You have changed that.

As he watches you deftly twirling and clapping gently to the song, he cannot stop his body from acting on its own accord.

And Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, fearsome warrior, finds himself pushing through the crowd to join you in your hypnotic dance.

You notice when the handsome stranger leaves his spot by the pillar, his eyes fixated only on you. You’re not sure how to feel.

During the dinner, you had walked by him on the way to your designated place. You’re from a minor house, not fit to sit with the guests from the major ones. Not that you minded, it’s always been this way.

He had caught your attention immediately. Brooding and gorgeous, with full, sensual lips and the palest skin you’ve ever seen, how could you resist admiring him?

He hadn’t noticed you then.

He notices you now.

A soft smile graces your lips as he reaches you, dark eyes boring into yours. You stop as he reaches out a sculpted hand.

You take it.

His hand is warm, and you can sense the strength hiding just beneath his skin. This man is dangerous, you realized that when you first spotted him.

To your surprise, he is an excellent dancer, leading you in perfect harmony to the music. You can barely hear the music over the pounding of your heart.

This wasn’t what you expected.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” you whisper once you’re close enough to hear each other.

His smirk is prideful, “A fighter must be lithe and nimble, my lady.”

His voice is raspy, deep. Again, you are taken by surprise.

“You must be an excellent warrior too.”

You spin around, his hand guiding you. He has dropped his smile, replaced it with a predatory look reminiscent of a hungry panther.

“The best,” he replies, supporting your back as he dips you downwards.

The other dancers seem to fade away as you dance with him, this frightening stranger. His touches are like a fire unto you, his gaze a steady burning.

He dances as if it’s a battle of dominance. He leads without hesitation, and you answer with the fluidity and grace befitting a lady.

It’s exhilarating.

And it’s gone too soon as the music dies down and the other clap for the musicians.

Breathing heavily, you simply stare at this man who joined you in rapturous movement, not wanting it to end.

He hasn’t let go of your hand.

You don’t want him to.

“What’s your name?” You ask before he can slip away and disappear forever. If he did, you’d at least want to remember his name.

He smirks, “You don’t know me?”

“No, or I would not have asked,” you point out.

He chuckles, revealing blacked teeth, “I am na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my lady.”

You blink at this revelation. You’ve never met a Harkonnen before, let alone a such a high ranking one.

Feyd expects you to recoil in fright, surely knowing the brutality his house is known for. He is taken aback when you smile.

“I am pleased to meet you,” you in line your head slightly as you supply your own name.

He realizes his hand is still clasping yours and that you don’t seem to mind it one bit. Feyd gently tugs you towards him, “Come, it is too crowded here.”

Perhaps foolishly, you allow yourself to be led away from the ballroom and into a quiet hall.

It’s late, and you can see the stars through the sheer curtains of the hallway.

“Are you enjoying the festivities? You seemed unhappy,” you ask. “I saw you by the pillar.”

“I was bored,” he admits without care. “Before the dance.”

“And now?”

“And now I have welcome company and my boredom has fled in the wake of your beauty.”

He traces a hand, still so warm, down your cheek. You bask in the attention, wondering if this is all a dream you’ll wake from in a moment.

Feyd’s hand goes lower, until it grasps around your neck and tightens. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to still your breathing. With his grip tight, he pulls you forward and kisses you deeply.

It’s intoxicating.

He kisses like he dances, dominating and alluring. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he continues his assault on your senses.

“Everything was dull until you danced into my sight,” he rasps as you catch your breath. “I’ve never seen such a vision.”

“I have never seen a man like you,” you confess, resting a hand on his chest. “You have such intensity…”

“Does it frighten you?”

“No, no it thrills me, my lord.”

The way those words roll off your tongue has Feyd hooked, his mouth latching onto your neck as he cups your face with one hand.

“Do you know what I’ve done?” He asks, unsure why he’s asking.

“I know you’ve danced beautifully,” you smile. “And I know your touch feels electrifying. And I know you’re going to take me into an empty room.”

You withdraw from him slightly, awestruck at the hunger in his eyes.

“And what happens then?”

He retakes your hand, not too gently this time, and practically drags you to the nearest room, slamming the pen the door.

Luckily, no one is in there.

“You know what happens next,” you say, already stripping him of his fine shirt before doing the same to yourself.

Feyd is glad he decided to come to this festival, thanking his lucky stars as he stares in awe at your beauty.

He wonders if you make love as spellbindingly as you dance.

He’ll soon find out.

#female reader #reader insert #feyd x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd oneshot #feyd x reader #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dune part two #dune x reader #feyd imagine #dune

[dustykneed]

the rough childhood trio with their childhood pets. (each of these gets a couple sentences of variably cryptic context-- all up for interpretation, of course. in my head these are all bittersweet ^^)

i-chaya wasn't supposed to be at school, technically, but amanda had a talk with the teachers, and they concluded that it was logical to allow i-chaya to continue to accompany spock to school, when his performance showed such marked improvement when she was around.

sometimes, during intervals between lessons, which were always timed precisely for optimal development of social skills, spock would sit cross-legged in a corner of the schoolyard, and i-chaya would sink down onto the red sand beside him and nudge at his cheek with her damp nose, and spock would reach up into her coarse, thick coat and press his forehead into the safety of her fur until the stinging remarks of the other children would melt and fall away in the harsh vulcan sun.

"he's up there in the stars, jamie. whenever you feel like you're on your own, just look up at the night sky and count the stars. he would've been so proud of you."

james tiberius kirk read, once, that pigs were unable to look up at the sky. from then on, he made sure to prop all of the pigs on the farm up every so often, so that they could look at the stars with him. for his birthday, his mother knit him two matching sweaters with stars on the chest-- one for him, and the other for wilbur (the grandpiglet of the sow she tripped over a decade ago).

bones was raised, essentially, by the large, calico barncat who lived on the mccoys' farm. she had not been named, and she wouldn't let anyone else touch her-- only bones.

when he was a baby, she curled up beside him in his crib with her tail around his ankle to stop him from crawling out and hurting himself.

when he got older, on difficult days, she would grab him by the sock and drag him to the old rocking chair in the attic and curl up on his lap and bite at his fingers until he could bring himself to pet her, and then she would purr and purr as he stroked through her warm, soft fur and rocked himself better in the big rocking chair. if anyone tried to drag bones away, she would hiss and yowl and bat vehemently at the intruding hands until he could be left alone.

#star trek #star trek tos #tos #star trek aos #aos #star trek fanart #jim kirk #spock #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #mcspirk #triumvirate #star trek headcanons #mcspirk headcanons #dust trek hcs #dust writes #ok it's actually not true that pigs can't look up-- they can at a roughly 45° angle #they just are really short-sighted and can't actually see the stars or the clouds in the sky #but SHH nobody tell jimmy. he'll be sad #baby spock #i-chaya #just my take on their childhoods-- i feel in my chest that they all came from fractured environments in a sense #but they get to heal. They WILL heal!! and so will all of us ^^ #Yes i drew all of these today #i was struck by inspiration in the first five seconds and proceeded to go feral

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Hard Ren

Porn Star! Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader

Summary: Hard Ren is known for not cumming during his scenes until now.

A/N: I'm biting on the bars of my enclose while i write this.

Warning: NSFW, spitting, choking, role playing, rough, happy ending, ladies we are porn stars too!

Word Count: 3.3K

Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Anyone who watches porn knows who Hard Ren is. 

Hard Ren is known to have stamina like a fucking animal. He fucks like one and he’s good at it but what he is worldly known for is he never cums when he fucks. When he does cum it’s only when he’s masturbating.

Yeah, a porn star who doesn’t cum when fucking other people. Hard Ren has done interviews about it. He jokes about it and tells them that his cock hasn’t found the right person yet. This sparks something with the female porn star community because they all want to make him cum. None of them ever succeeded. 

“Kylo.” The dark haired man looked up from his phone when his manager, Hux stopped the car. 

“We’re here.” Kylo follows Hux out of the car and into the studio to his dressing room. Kylo performs his usual preparation before filming. 200 pushup and crutches. He curls his 150 pounds dumbbells along with lifting his barbell while Hux tells him more about the person he’s going to fuck. Kylo was in the middle of a rep when he heard Hux mumbling the name of the porn star. 

“What’s her name again?” 

“She’s new, you probably haven’t heard of her but she has a fan base already. Not ugly like the last one” Hux told him while typing on his phone. 

Finishing his usual preparation and getting dressed with the clothes laid out for him, Hux walks with him to the set. Kylo was fixing the sleeves of his blue jean button down shirt. He goes into the mind set as a teacher, that was the script. He's done this multiple times, he plays the college professor and the girl plays the student looking for extra credit. 

His head shot up when he heard laughter. Director Phasma is standing next to a woman. Phasma is showing her the story board with a pleased look. When he saw you, he’s starstruck, since you were the one that he watches when he does his masturbating videos. He plays it cool, of course but the moment you give you a smile. His cock is already hard. His most viewed video of him masturbating was thanks to you. He came on his chest to the video of you on a bed with your legs spread and your cunt of full display. He liked your moans and how you pout while playing with yourself. 

“I like your work.” You tell him as Hux and Phasma speak on the set. You look up at the 6’3 dark haired man while playing with your fingers nervously. 

Excitement ran up and down your body at the sight of him. “I like yours too.” 

You smile at his words. He runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “Especially the one with you on the bed.” 

"There's a lot of me on the bed." You said jokingly and he laughs. "I like them all." 

You blush at his words. He had seen your work. When the camera was ready, you and him got into place. 

“Please, Professor Hard Ren. I need this extra credit. I won’t pass the semester.” You begged him as you walked towards him. Ren was leaning against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed around his chest. You played with the bottom button of his shirt

“There might be something you can do for me.” Ren said, wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to him. 

“I’ll do anything.” You whispered as he leaned down, his large hands pulling the dress up to your hips. 

“Anything?” He asks as he cups your ass, giving it a good and hard squeeze for the camera, making you moan. He pulls you close to his chest as he tugs the thong to the side. 

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper.

About to do what you do best, you start to tug on his belt. Ren leans back when he notices what you were doing. He helps you while you unzip the black slack and goes down on your knees in front of him. Your mouth drops open as you stare up at him as you pull the slacks down to his ankles. He’s in full commando, and his cock almost smacks you in the face if you haven’t caught it first. His cock was thick and pink, his fat head is begging to be licked. 

Ren groans at the sight of your little pink tongue licking his cock. He grips the edge of the desk when you spit on his cock and start to use your spit as lube to start jerking him off with both hands. He tries his best to not shut his eyes because he wants to see you. He wants to see the moment you put his fat cock inside that little mouth. 

He moans out loud when you start to suck his cock, gagging, his thick girth stretching your mouth. 

“Fuckk.” Ren moans when he starts to move his hips forward, he uses a hand to hold the back of your head. He feels his balls tighten up when he sees your eyes filling up with tears. His thighs are wet from the drool and spit. He can see the spit dripping off the corner of your mouth. 

“Yes, gonna give you a good grade. Keep sucking you teacher's cock.” He tells you as you bob your head up and down on his cock. He sees your pretty face start to turn red and he pulls you off of his cock. He grabs his cock and pats it against your cheek then trace your lips with the head of his cock. 

“Open your mouth, show me that fucking tongue.” You obey and he taps the head of his cock on your tongue. 

“You’re so fucking hot. You know that.” Ren leans down to take your arms. Helping you up, you were shocked when he cups your cheek, bringing your face up close to him. He kisses you while he gently pushes against the desk making you sit on the edge

You look at him with wide eyes when he pulls away from your lips. He takes his shoes off and removes his pants as well. For a moment you forget about the camera when he takes his shirt off. He looks so good on video but in person, this man was sculpted. You can see every beauty mark on his skin. Looking at his abs, you looked further down, passing the light happy trail, you can see a vein aiming down to his cock. It took all the strength in you to not throw yourself in the ground to lick it. His cock stood out, proud and hard. 

He gets near you, grabbing you by the chin and kisses you again. He makes you spread your legs, pushing the dress up. He lets the camera panel over at your pussy when he pushes the thong to the side. Running his thick fingers run up and down your slick slit.

You don’t even pay attention to the camera behind him. His thick fingers rub your clit making you moan as he kneels down in front of your cunt. You feel those thick fingers slide into you.

He’s a messy and fast eater when it comes to pussy, he knows it but right now. He takes his time, he sees your cunt so many times while he comes. He couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. Looking so pretty with legs spread and your pussy practically pulsing. He kisses your mound enjoying the scent of your musk. He grins at the sound of you gasp when his nose hits your clit. He presses his lips against your lips. Licking your slick, he gets hard by how good you taste. 

He grins against your cunt when moan loudly. Your moans are heavenly to him, it sounds real and not fake as the others. He feels your fingers through his hair as you gently push his face against your cunt. Ren is pumping himself as he licks your cunt, he savors your taste. He looks up when he hears you call for him. He feels his heart flip inside his ribcage when you look down at him. He whines when your hand on his hair goes down to cup his face. Ren doesn't let you speak, he quickly stands up from his knees to kiss you.

You look over his shoulder when he starts to kiss your neck. Phasma waves her hand at you, signaling you that it's fine you didn't have to say your line. You couldn’t do it even if you tried. Ren was taking control, removing your dress for you. 

“Prettiest fucking tits.” He says as he leans down to kiss your breast. You blush when he practically pulls the desk close to him so he can get near you. 

“I want to fuck you so bad.” He says as he looks at you, his hands grab a hold of your hips, spreading your legs open. 

“You can.” You told him looking up at him with a smirk, batting your eyelashes. 

“I’ll do anything for a good grade, Professor Ren.” You said as your hands grabbed his throbbing cock, slowly jerking him off, rubbing the tip of his cock with your thumb. 

“Jesus Christ.” Ren moans when you use the other hand to grasp his balls, pulling them softly. You watched as he stood still as you kept touching him, he threw his head back, you bit your bottom lip as you watched his tense up. 

“Come here.” He tells you, you gasped when he wrapped your legs around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he picks you up from the desk and walked over the couch on the other side of the office set. You hear him whisper close to your ear, he tells you to relax, he won’t drop you. 

The camera zooms on to your ass when Ren sits down on the couch, holding you tight on his lap. His big hands grasp your ass, pulling your cheeks apart showing your holes.

“Can I ride you, please?” You asked him and he grins, nodding as he leans back a bit. He smiles when he notices the excitement on your face. Quickly getting back to work, he groans as you spit on his cock, rubbing it up and down on his shaft. 

“Just like that.” He praised you when you rose up and gently sat on his cock. His eyes never left your face, he wanted to see that look on your face when his fat cock splits you open. He bites his bottom lip when he sees your face, that same face you give to the camera when your pussy is being stuffed.

He holds your hips when you start to bounce on his cock. He thrust upward making you cry out, he grins and does it again. You place a hand on his chest, making him stay in place but Ren being much bigger than you does it again making you whine. 

“Can’t take it? Huh? Can't take your professor's big cock?” Ren asks you. He chuckles when you nod, pushing yourself on his chest then sliding back down. He grabs your arms pulling into his chest as he grunts sliding further down on the couch so the camera can go under him. 

“Good girl.” He shouts as he started thrusting upward like crazy making you moan as he fucks you hard. Your ass bounces every time he thrusted up to you. Your poor pussy being stretched wide up, the camera zooms in to see Ren’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your slick is running down his shaft to his balls. 

Your face is squished against his hard chest as he rams into you. He holds you down with one arm and the other, he brings it up to your face making him look up at you. 

His nose bumps with yours and you see him going in for a kiss. 

“You feel so good.” You whispered against his lips then kiss him. You moan when his hand grips your hair making you wince when he pulls it. 

He shakes his head, “No, you do.” He licks his lips as he continues with his thrusts. He hears you moan loudly, it sounds so soft exactly like the video he uses of you. 

“Rub your pussy for me.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond. You squeal when he grabs you and pushes himself up. He lifts you and drops you on your back. The camera man moves standing behind him, zooming into your face. 

Spreading your legs wide, you’re smiling at Ren as he jerks himself off. His eyes are wide as he stares at you. He gets turned on even more by how much you're enjoying yourself, looking so pretty rubbing your cunt in front of him. You bring your knees to your chest as close as you can. Your arms go under your knees and you rub your clit, giving it soft smack making you moan. 

Your fingers don't feel as good as his, you finger yourself while looking at him. He’s staring at your cunt then back at your face. You stick your tongue out at him as you give your cunt another slap making him groan. 

You’re giddy with excitement when he comes over to you, he man handles you pushing your knees further back and lowers himself. You squeal when he smacks the head of his cock on your cunt. 

“How bad do you want an A+?” He asks you, raising a brow at you. 

“Really bad, professor. I want it. Please.” You pouted at him. 

You know he does it on purpose, he just looks down at you with a smug look on his face as he slides his cock up and down your slit painfully slowly. You huff at him and grab his cock, surprising him. 

“I want that A+, sir!” You cry out pushing his cock at your entrance. You look at him with a pleading look and Ren thinks he just died and gone to heaven. 

You keep on surprising him, taking control like that, grabbing his cock like you own it. Fuck, you practically did already. All of his masturbation videos ended with him cumming so much because he was looking at your videos. Of course the viewers didn’t know that, the cameras were always aiming at him, at his lower half. 

“I’ll give you that A. Imma fucking give it to you.” You cry out when he thrusts into your cunt in one harsh thrust. Ren doesn’t pay attention to the camera under him, all he can stare is your face, your tits bouncing by his harsh thrusts. You were losing your grip under the your legs, trying your best to keep them to your chest. 

Ren wants to feel you cum, he wants you to cum on his cock. What a dream would that he thinks to himself as he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing your slick over it. He’s rough with it, making you grin as you shut your eyes with pleasure. 

“Chock me.” You cry to him as you open your eyes to stare up at him. 

“You like that?” You nod quickly as he complies to your request. Ren groans loudly when he feels you clench around him when he grabs a hold of your neck, he can feel your heartbeat and it just makes him goes faster. 

“Oh-h-h fuck! Shit!” Ren shouts he holds the couch with one hand as he goes balls deep in you. He feels you holding his arm, his grip around your neck tighten and he throws his head back when he feels you cum. 

You are crying his name and that was it for him. It broke him completely. 

“Can-can I cum in you?” He shouts as he looks back at you. You’re staring up at him with teary eyes still feeling the hard orgasm you just had. 

“Yes.” You said meekly, he removes his hand from your neck and holds your chin. Keeping your head in place, staring up at him as he thrust into your sloppy pussy. 

In the corner of your eye, you see the director and the crew staring at both of you with wide eyes as Ren groans loudly. You can’t help but whine when he does one last harsh thrust. He moves the couch and he keeps you in place as he fills your womb with his hot milky cum. 

“F-fuck.” Ren moans as he releases your chin and slouches a bit. He cups your face as he tries to catch his breath. His thumb runs over your bottom lip and you do something that you have been craving to do since you saw his hands. Grabbing a hold of his wrist you stick his thumb in your mouth, sucking it as you stare up at him. 

He feels his knees go weak and he pulls away and sits down next to you with a grunt. He has his head throw back over the couch as he sits there, with his limp cock. 

Ren hears the camera man tell you to keep your knees to your chest. Phasma praises you and he opens his eyes to see you. You’re playing with his cum, rubbing his cum all over your cunt and mound. 

“Fuck yeah.” A crew member whispers when you scoop Ren’s cum dripping from your fucked hole up to your lips. You made a moaning sound as you tasted it, licking your lips seductively as the camera pans over to your face.

You walk out of the shower, thanking god that Phasma was a saint when it came to her workers. She had a shower installed in the dressing rooms. You really didn’t want to go home with cum dripping out of you. Your manager had applaud to you and said Hard Ren just came because of you. 

Feeling amazing after the hot shower, you got dressed with the extra clothes your manager packed for you. Fixing your hair, you grabbed your phone, looking at the recent messages from your manager. You frowned because she had sent you a message saying that she was waiting for you in the parking lot then a few seconds later. She sent you a message saying there’s a surprise for you in the parking lot. 

You didn’t think much of it. You were still tired from having sex and you were starving. You just thought she was being like this because of the accomplishment you just did.

You walked to the exit still thinking about him, Ren. He was just as handsome in his videos and his cock was something to die for. You were feeling pretty good for making him cum. He looked so fucking hot cumming. 

Pushing the door open you walked to the parking lot and frowned when you saw your manager wasn’t there. 

“Hey.” You looked over your shoulder and saw Ren leaning against the building with a cigarette in his mouth. He’s wearing different clothes as well, dark jeans with boots and a graphic tee. He had a leather jacket on and his hair was damp. 

“Hi.” You answered back and he gave you a soft smile. 

“You hungry?” He asks, throwing the cigarette on the ground after blowing a puff of smoke. 

“Starving.” You tell him as he walks towards you. He bites his bottom lip and for a moment he looks a bit shy. 

“Me too. I know a place. Wanna come with me?” You nod at him and give him a smile. You start walking with him out of the parking lot when he tells you his first name, Kylo. 

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x you #kylo ren smut #kylo ren au #Kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x y/n

[lessi-lover]

the fun part II l.williamson ~

06 ★ ~ l. williamson

dating a professional footballer naturally had its undeniable advantages, and being with the one and only, - leah catherine williamson, certainly had its benefits. her god sculpted physique, along with her strikingly cocky personality, was a constant source of worship, motivating you to become a regular gym enthusiast yourself. this of course meant taking it upon yourself to try and successfully make the gym as enjoyable as you could for everyone. even going as far as creating a roster so all the girls could enjoy their respective music, even though majority loathed the exercise off the pitch, rather wanting to do what they did loved the most, - playing football.

with the 23/24 barclays super league fastly approaching, morale was at an all time high, with a large portion of the girls just returning from the world cup, - your own team having been the first national team to make it to a semi-final in australian history.

however, even though you and the english skipper had been together for quite some time now, you had never officially worked out in the gym together before. you dedicating your body to football as much as you could, given you were a fresh transfer, and leah spending majority of her time in the private gym or in the physiotherapy wing, recovering from her ACL injury.

but in this particular moment, you found yourself wishing you had moved to arsenal earlier.

your eyes were fixated on the blonde, captivated by the way her stomach glistened with a thin layer of sweat, emphasising the work she had spent on defining her stomach, during the international break. her black, training top clung tightly to her body, she had pulled the sleeves up, revealing the captain’s strong and large biceps, while her shorts showcased her muscular thighs with perfection.

you tried to concentrate on your gym partner, - steph, the australian defender and yourself were attached at the hip, having first met at an U17 camp, you had immediately clicked, as you had both gotten older you often were tagged "the work wives," which guaranteed you were sure to hear remarks from both leah and dean, weekly.

praising your resilience, steph couldn't figure out why your breathing had suddenly become so shallow and uneven. trying to gain your attention, she waved her hand in front of your face a couple times over, but your thoughts were consumed by the blonde goddess doing weights in front of you. 

leah, always looking for you in a crowded room, noticed your consistent gaze on her. Increasing the weight, she turned over her shoulder, wearing a smug and cocky grin on her face. she turned her body to face you, slowly lifting her sweaty shirt over her head and tossing it aside where a couple of the girls were stretching. if only the she knew what she was doing to you, - newsflash, the blonde knew exactly what she was doing, she always did.

you snapped out of your trance, attempting to regain your composure and focus on your exercises. however, her presence in the gym was overwhelming. every curl of the obnoxiously heavy weight she performed, every flex of her strong arms, seemed to hypnotise you, making it impossible to concentrate.  “are you alright y/n/n?” steph asked, resting a comforting hand on your back. you didn’t respond, too infatuated with the blonde. “i think you should take a break, yeah? i'll let you catch your breath.” steph helped you to stand, walking away shaking her head in confusion.  

the sight of her well-defined abs and the sweat trickling down them was mesmerising. "enjoying the view?" she yelled over at you, her voice laced with confidence, - she knew she could do the simplest actions that would get a cracking reaction out of you. a few of your teammates exercising nearby rolled their eyes at their vice captain.

“you alright there, baby?” the blonde finished off her exercise and started to make her way over to your gym mat. even the way she walked, amazed you. "i... i can't concentrate," you confessed, your voice barely audible over the loud gym music and nearby chatter of your teammates. leah’s taunting chuckle filled the air, a deep, alluring laugh that sent shivers down your spine. "maybe I can help you with that," she purred, setting down her phone and water. she cockily approached you, a smug grin plastered on her face, her piercing eyes fixed on yours, filled with desire and hunger. she took a seat on the mat, slotting her body behind your own.

she extended a soft hand towards you, a silent invitation for you to sit on her lap. "come here, love," she asked, but you knew better than to take this as a request, - it was an order. you hesitated for a moment before giving in to the undeniable pull she had over you. taking her hand, you let her guide you closer until your back rested against her front. her touch electrifies your body, igniting a fire within you, and you find yourself unwillingly relaxing into her strong arms.

leah’s hands settled on the side of your thighs, beginning to guide through the exercise. your breath caught in your throat as her fingers traced aimless patterns on the skin where your shorts had ridden up, sending shocks throughout your body. after about 15 reps, you let your head fall softly onto her shoulder. lifting your mouth to her neck, “le, we could get caught.” you whispered, trying to stay as invisible as you could in the crowded gym. she moved her hands up and down your arms. “i know baby, isn't that the fun part?” she responded, placing her chin on your head, exhaling deeply into your hair. the tight proximity between the two of you and intense exercise left you breathless, as you struggled to find words. your mind completely overtaken by the blonde. "you know," she murmured above your ear, her voice sending cold shivers down your spine, "i've always wanted to be your spotter." her words hung in the air, laden with unspoken promises and desire, leaving you utterly starstruck.

“you think we can finish this at home, darling?” leah whispered lowly in your ear, lightly kissing your neck.

#woso #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community #arsenal women

[suugarbabe]

Saving Grace VI

[Chapter 6]

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

word count: ~3.3k

warning: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, smut, slight male overstimulation, 18+ content MDNI

Your heart had never felt so full. Laying on the couch in the common room with Mattheo on top of you, his back to your front as he laid between your legs. His head was resting on your stomach, his arms draped over your thighs as your legs intertwined with his. Soft snores are coming from Mattheo as you continue to trace your fingers through his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp. 

You looked over his face, noting the different scars. The one along his right side, that went through his eyebrow and over his cheek, had been there before you met him. He told you he got it the summer before he came to Hogwarts, something about a ‘task his father had challenged him with’ went not quite as planned. You lightly traced it with your thumb and he seemed to unconsciously lean into your touch. 

He had a couple other small scars from nicks and such in fights, but your favorite one was on the bridge of his nose. It really wasn’t quite a scar yet, but you knew it would turn into one eventually. The scab across it was nearly healed, leaving a thick line of pink skin. The week after you two had made it officially official, Adrian had come to bother you again, this time trying to grab you away from Mattheo in the middle of the hall, yanking on your elbow. 

You had seen Mattheo fight plenty of times, but this time it was like all he could see was red and all he wanted was Adrian dead. It took Theo, Draco and Blaise to finally pull them apart. Mattheo came out with just one deep gash on the bridge of his nose, while Adrain was in the hospital wing for a week. Mattheo got a month’s worth of detention, the last of which he served today. 

McGonagall made him reorganize the quidditch locker rooms and their respective closets. It took him nearly all day, hence his exhausted and sleeping figure on top of you. But you didn’t mind, you loved when he was able to be more vulnerable and loved that he felt safe enough to be that way with you. He was always displaying himself as so tough and unbreakable, you often had to remind him that he, too, was merely human and would break if he didn’t allow himself time to relax and recover. 

You were so engrossed with how pretty your boyfriend looked sleeping that you had zoned out, completely forgetting the other people around you. Pansy’s snapping is what finally broke your trance as you looked over to the couch across from you, giving her an apologetic smile. 

“Merlin, you two are so lovesick on each other,” she teased, causing the others to smile along with her. 

“Thank Salazar you finally admitted your feelings for him, I swear we were all going mental just waiting on you two to make it actually official,” Theo stated, lighting a spliff and taking a drag. 

Your face turned into one of confusion, “What do you mean ‘finally admitted my feelings for him’, what are you on about?” 

Draco rolled his eyes, “Cousin told us you guys were faking it.” You went to sit up a little straighter, however Mattheo’s grip on your legs prevented you from moving all together. 

“You mean you all knew it was fake? I mean, it’s not anymore, it hasn’t been for a while, but you all knew in the beginning?” You looked at each one of their faces. Enzo looked guilty, Theo and Draco both wore annoying smirks while Blaise and Pansy just had huge smiles. 

“To be fair, we didn’t know until after your little show at that first party,” Theo wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Still think about it sometim-” he was cut short thankfully by Blaise throwing a pillow at his head. 

Blaise turned to you then, “At first we thought he was just bringing you to the party as his date for the night, you know, like he was known to do. We played games and had a lot of fun. But during your little performance I noticed someone watching the two of you, specifically you, very closely.” 

You rolled your eyes, his name coming out like a grumble from your mouth, “You mean Adrian.” 

Blaise couldn’t help the slight smirk on his face, “Precisely. So, the next morning, when we were all a little more sober, I decided to ask Mattheo what was going on.” 

“At first he tried to deny everything, saying it was just for the night or whatever, but I could see right through it,” Draco pipped in. “Eventually, he told us how Adrian was being a proper creep and you asked for his help -”

Enzo interrupted him, “And Matty boy was talking about you for months before that.” The rest of the group seemed to nod in agreement. 

You couldn’t help the look of shock on your face, “W-what are you guys talking about? Months before?”

Blaise smiled at you, “That’s right sweetheart.” You looked back down at Mattheo’s sleeping form, admiration clear on your face. You traced your thumb over the apple of his cheek and he stirred slightly. His long eyelashes fluttered open, his voice thick with sleep as he spoke, “You lot talking ‘bout me?” 

A few members of the group laughed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, “All good things, love.” He grumbled slightly, turning over so he was now laying on his stomach, burying his face into your jumper covered chest. 

“You still sitting with me at the match tomorrow?” Pansy asked excitedly, finally able to have another girl with her to watch the boys play. 

Eyes still closed, Mattheo answered for you, “Course she is, gonna be wearing my spare jersey.” You smiled at Pansy, nodding your head in agreement. 

“And here I thought she’d be wearing mine,” Theo, ever the sass-master, felt the need to interject and quickly regretted it as Mattheo fully opened his eyes. You ran your hand through Mattheo’s curls, essentially soothing him back to a calm state before giving Theo the finger for riling him up.

xx

You wanted to curse whatever founder decided that deep into Scotland was the best location for Hogwarts as you pulled your stocking cap down over your ears. You also wanted to curse whoever decided that quidditch season needed to be in the bloody winter. 

“How the bloody hell do you look so cute but I look like a bundled troll?” Pansy poked the stuffing of her jacket near her stomach. You huffed out a laugh, “Oh please, Pans, we both look like stuffed olives. Green is normally so flattering to me, but right now I feel like a pickle.” 

You and Pansy continued to make comparisons to different green foods back and forth, not being able to contain your laughter as you found your seats in the stands on the Slytherin side. You weren’t sure if it was your relationship status, or if you and Pansy just got lucky, but you managed two front row spots in your house section, giving you the perfect view of the pitch. 

As both teams came out from the locker room tents you joined your fellow students in cheering loudly for green and silver. As members of both teams started doing warm up laps around the pitch, a particularly curly haired captain was hovering right in front of you and you couldn’t contain the grin that spread over your face. 

“Well don’t you look adorable this brisk afternoon, princess,” Mattheo was balancing on his Firebolt, leaning over the banister at the front of the stands. You stood from your seat, leaning closer to him, “I know you love pickles so I figured I’d copy the look to keep you motivated.” 

Mattheo let out a hearty chuckle, “S’that what you think you look like?” You nodded, biting your bottom lip to suppress the grin threatening to spread across your face. “Well you’re correct as always love,” Mattheo closed the gap between you two, placing a gentle kiss to your lips that ended far sooner than you wanted, “I love pickles and you look delicious.” 

You giggled slightly as you pushed his shoulder, effectively pushing him farther from you. With a wink he was soaring back down to the ground, meeting Madam Hooch and the other team's captain. As Madam Hooch released the bludgers and the snitch your adrenaline began to rise. When she tossed the quaffle in the air you were off your seat, keeping a close eye on Mattheo as he maneuvered around the pitch. 

Quidditch games were not foreign to you, you’ve even played it a little on holidays with your friends and such, but there was something about watching Mattheo, watching your boyfriend that made it all the more exciting. 

It definitely helped that Mattheo was a wiz at the game, gliding through the air, catching the quaffle like he’d been playing the game since he came out of the womb. He was especially cheeky this game, though, throwing a wink or a point your way every time he scored. 

The game was so exciting and Mattheo managed to pay you so much attention that you nearly forgot that Adrian was also on the team. That is, you forgot until you saw a bludger head straight for Mattheo. Thankfully he saw it and ducked out of the way. 

You followed the path that the bludger came from expecting to see the colors of the opposing team. Your eyes narrowed to slits as you saw Adrian Pucey hovering on his broom, bat in hand and a smirk plastered on his face. 

Adrian had arrogance, that was evident when he made eye contact with you and sent you a wink. You're sure your face was displaying a scowl but you held up both hands with middle fingers for good measure. 

You weren’t sure the game Adrian was playing at, but you knew Mattheo could finish it. After two more goals you saw Adrian smack another bludger, again heading straight towards your boyfriend, whose back was turned. 

You thanked Merlin for Theo as he came bolting towards Mattheo, using his own bat to beat the bludger in a different direction. Mattheo turned around, confused at the commotion as Theo very obviously shouted something at him. 

Mattheo then flew over where Draco had been, who was very obviously on the hunt for the snitch. Draco’s eyes were darting around the sky, searching for any glimpse of gold as he took in whatever words Mattheo was speaking. 

In an instant Draco was off, the Slytherin section erupting into cheers as he presumably found what he was looking for. Mattheo flew over to Theo, exchanging words. Theo nodded his head in understanding. 

The heat of the game was happening but your eyes stayed glued to Mattheo as he flew to the other side of the pitch towards Adrian. Cheers and shouts erupted around you, leading to an understanding that Draco likely caught the snitch and Slytherin had won. 

You watched as Mattheo all but dragged Adrian off his broom and to the tunnel leading from the pitch to the locker rooms. You watch as Mattheo’s fist connects with Adrian’s nose. Everyone else is seemingly distracted by the victory but you can't tear your eyes away from watching Mattheo beat the living shit out of Adrian not ten meters from everyone else. 

When you see Mattheo walk away from a crouching Adrian on the floor and head to the locker rooms you immediately follow, ignoring Pansy’s calls about where you were going. You rushed down the steps of the stands, taking as large of steps as your legs would allow as you reached the opening of the Slytherin locker room tent. 

The locker room was empty as everyone was still on the pitch celebrating. You walk further into the room, hearing a shower running. You shed some of your layers, taking off your hat, scarf, Mattheo’s extra jersey and your thick jumper. You toed off your shoes, pulling your socks along with them. 

The steam from the showers curled around your legs as you entered the shower stalls. When you finally reached him you saw the water at his feet run pink against the tile. You were sure the majority, if not all, was Adrians. You step into the stall, not caring that your clothes were essentially going to get soaked. You placed a tentative hand on his back.

He flinched at first, relaxing quickly into your touch. “What did he say, Teo?” He kept his back to you, doing his best to have a jovial tone, “If you wanted to see me naked again, love, you could’ve just asked. No need to storm the showers.” 

You rubbed your hands up and down his back, massaging his obviously sore muscles, “Mattheo…”

He let out a long sigh as he placed his hands on the wall in front of him. You saw a few cuts on his knuckles that you made note to heal later. “He deserved it,” his voice strained slightly, like just talking about it was making him angry all over again. 

You nodded, though you knew he couldn’t see it, “I’m sure he did, love, but what did he do this time?” 

His muscles tensed again, “It was about you. Had your name in his filthy fucking mouth. He..” Mattheo took another deep breath, you rubbed up and down his back, encouraging him to continue, “Well first he tried to knock me out with two fucking bludgers.” 

“I saw, right coward move if you ask me,” your rested your hands on Mattheo’s shoulders. He placed one of his on top on yours as he continued, “Then when I dragged him down, asking him what his problem was, he started talking about you. Starting saying foul things about you, saying he could have his way with you if he tried hard enough, that you being with me was all a lie and if he asked he could ‘have you up against a wall and calling his name’ and I just lost it.”

He turned to face you, hands gripping at the wet fabric on your waist, “I’m sorry princess, I just…I couldn’t stop myself.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, neither caring about the vulnerable state Mattheo was in in the shower stall. 

His posture indicated he felt bad for his actions, or at least feared that you might be mad at him. In reality you were anything but angry. You know it shouldn’t, but seeing Mattheo fight just…spurred you on. 

You tugged lightly at his curls and he lifted his head up, soft brown eyes meeting yours. “I love when you fight for me, Teo,” you twirled a curl around your finger at the base of his neck. Mattheo’s mouth upturned ever so slightly, “Yeah?”

You could feel his fingers dip under the hem of your shirt as you nodded your head, “Yeah, I know it’s kind of bad, but when I saw you hitting him earlier,” you pushed Mattheo back slightly, gripping the bottom of your soaked shirt and peeling it up and off your body, Mattheo’s eyes shot straight to your green lace bra, “I just wanted to get you alone and show you how much I really,” you popped the button of your jeans, “truly,” you dragged them down your legs and stepped out, “appreciate it.” 

He knows he’s seen you bare before, but there was something about you standing in soaking green lace that had his body responding before his mind could control it. Mattheo, for once, was at a loss for words, but you didn’t mind taking control for a moment. 

You placed a hand on his strong chest, pushing him back with the slightest pressure as your trailed your hand down his abdomen, feeling the dips and curves of his muscles that quidditch helped sculpt. His eyes held contact with yours as his back hit the tile wall.

Your hands continued to explore his body, thumbs dipping into the v-cut of his hips before grabbing him fully in your hand. You stroked him with light pressure, Mattheo’s eyes rolling as his head leaned back against the wall, “Your teasing me, Princess.” The statement came out in a breathy moan. 

“Just trying to show my boyfriend how thankful I am that he’s always there to defend me,” you slowly fell to your knees, dragging your nails down his thighs as you did so, eliciting a soft groan from Mattheo. 

You hold your mouth open, sticking out your tongue. You hold him in your mouth for a moment, just feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue. 

You’ve only been any type of intimate a few times since officially being called ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’ but you had made a mental note to take your time and enjoy it all in the beginning. 

“P-please, Princess. I n-need you to do something,” Mattheo’s begging went straight to your core. You pulled him from your mouth slowly, trailing your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

You wrap your hand around him, small strokes up and down as you kitten lick his tip. His hand finds home in your hair, lacing his fingers through the wet strands. 

You flatten your hand at the base of his cock, fingers spread across his pubic bone. You do your best to open your throat as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth. Your thumb applying light pressure where his balls meet his base, massaging the soft spot there. 

“F-fuck, holy shit, love, do that again,” Mattheo pleads. You hum in acknowledgment, repeating the action. Mattheo’s eyes roll in the back of his head and he knows he’s not going to last long. 

When you cup his balls, rolling them lightly in one hand as you deep throat him and hollow out your cheeks, Mattheo can’t even stop himself before he’s shooting hot ropes down your throat. 

You continue to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks out again and milking him for all has. Your hand is back at what won’t fit in your mouth. 

“Fuck, Princess, no more, I can’t,” he hissed through his teeth, grip tightening in your hair. You feel his thighs twitch under your palm but you don’t stop, wanting to push him just a little bit farther. 

His eyes roll to the back of his head and his upper lip quivers, you hum along his shaft, tapping his thigh to silently tell him to look at you. 

He stares down at you, eyes glazed over with lustful stupidity and that’s when you slowly drag him from your mouth with an obscene pop. You give one last long lick from base to tip before kissing his hip, grasping on to his forearm to help you stand up. 

Mattheo is still spent, leaning against the tile wall with shaky legs, one hand on your hip while the other cups your cheeks. 

“You tryna kill me, Princess? Where the fuck did that come from?” He’s breathless as he strokes your cheek lovingly. 

You shrug your shoulder slightly as your wrap your arms around his waist, “Just saying thank you.” You batted your eyelashes, doing your best to look innocent. 

Mattheo used his thumb to tilt your head up slightly, slotting his lips with yours. It was slow and sweet, his lips wet and heavy against yours. When he pulled away you found yourself lifting to your tip toes trying to chase after him. 

He chuckled slightly at your response, thumb tapping playfully at your bottom lip, “Cmon, love. Let’s get dressed before the rest of the lads get in and then we can go back to my dorm and I can,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “return the favor.” 

You slapped his chest playfully, “Cheeky offer, but you don’t have to do that. I’m more than happy with what transpired just now.”

Mattheo smiled your favorite dimpled smile as he grabbed a handful of your ass, “Oh, love, but I want to.”

taglist: @v1olentdelights ; @cherry-hoe ; @itsamusical4life ; @chaosartic ; @b3ean ; @l4venderia ; @mypolicemanharryyy ; @ma-las ; @usmell4 ; @carav4l ; @thereeallink ; @jinxxangel13 ; @stvrlightt ; @taylors--version ; @classicfandomavenue ; @lucyispan ; @moonlightreader649 ; @badasseddy ; @icecube1912 ; @kezibear ; @julerry ; @little-miss-naill ; @kaitlyn2907 ; @laurajmcmanus ; @onlyangel-444 ; @unstablereader ; @aunicornmademedoit ; @im-unwellbabe ; @football1921 ; @kalulakunundrum ; @ayla-1605 ;

if you're not underlined i did try to tag you and it didn't pop up, sozz loves :(

#saving grace #saving grace series #saving grace part 6 #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #golden era

[bts-0t-7]

Sharing The Moment | MYG

Pair: Yoongi x reader 

Summary: You and your son went to D-Day 3 to support Yoongi. Your son stole the show after appearing on stage and ARMY was absolutely… swooned. 

Genre: fluff, established relationship, parents au, married au

WC: 1169

Before the both of you stepped into the stadium, you could feel the ground vibrating from all the fan’s anticipation. The arena felt alive before the real show even started. It was the last day of Yoongi’s D-Day tour in Seoul and all the fans were there early. Whether is it giving out fanmade gifts, food, or drinks, they - Is that a tangerine in her hand? And is that a whole bag of it?!

The atmosphere was electric but for you, today was something even more special. You were not only here as a fan but also as Yoongi’s family. While ARMY’s certainly had eagle eyes, they have yet to catch on that you weren’t the only surprise that day. Your son, Min Ji-Hye, a carbon copy of his dad, was the source of the surprise. His little body was buzzing with energy. 

Since young, Ji-Hye has looked up to his father’s music and absolutely idolizes him. Every time Yoongi works from home or comes home with new music, Ji-Hye would demand listening to it even if it is the rawest version. Of course, Yoongi tries to keep the cursing to a minimum whenever Ji-Hye is around. 

The both of you found your seats in the middle catalogs which the staff has reserved especially for the both of you. Ensuring that Ji-Hye wouldn’t fall off his bumper seat, you started to set the area for the both of you so that you wouldn’t miss a single second to find some water. You were so engrossed in ensuring that your son had everything he needed that you didn’t realise Jin and Hobi were standing right next to you. 

You jumped when you felt a light tap on your shoulder, immediately turning around with large eyes, hoping that you wouldn’t cause trouble for your husband if you got mobbed or something during his concert. But you found two laughing figures and calmed down once you heard Jin’s signature laugh. 

“Yah, don’t scare me like that!” You chided.

“It was you who weren’t paying attention! We were here the whole time!”

You were about to shoot back another snarky remark when - “Seoul, ARE YOU READY?” 

Cheers from all directions engulfed you as fireworks lit up the stage. Yoongi came blasting from the backstage and no matter how many times you have been to BTS concerts, you never get tired of seeing them perform. The raw passion in their movements and voices always ensures that the audience has one of the best concerts. 

You turned over to see Ji-Hye at the edge of his seat, eyes glued to the stage. You had dressed him in Yoongi’s stage outfit, complete with a cap that looked a few sizes too big (it was taken from Yoongi’s closet). With his cat-like eyes and gummy smile, he was essentially Yoongi 2.0. 

Watching your son sing and jump to the lyrics of his father, your lips curled upwards in a loving smile. While he didn’t quite understand the depth and innuendos of the songs, he was enjoying himself and you knew how much this concert meant to him. With the news of Yoongi’s enlistment, you knew that your time together would be cut short for two years. 

You had told him that telling ARMY a day after the concert wasn’t going to be the best decision but management pulled through so it was scheduled as it is. So both of you continued to enjoy the concert with the new addition of Uncle Namjoon. 

As the music filled the stadium, Yoongi delivered an electrifying performance, pouring his heart and soul into every lyric. His presence on stage was magnetic and the fans were completely enthralled. You thought that you could hold back the tears as he broke down in front of all his fans but the tears streamed down your cheeks, staining them in a salty caress. 

Amidst the sea of fans, Ji-Hye suddenly squirmed and wriggled his way past the people in front of him. Running down the steps, you tried to catch him when Namjoon suddenly grabbed your wrist. “He’s safe, don’t worry. There are guards everywhere.”

But you couldn’t help but worry. What if he got lost? What if fans start to swarm around him and he can’t make it to Yoongi or any of the guards in time? Your heart skipped a beat as you saw his little figure making his way up the stage. There was a collective gasp from the fans nearby as they realised what was happening. 

The surrounding security personnel recognised him and allowed him to approach the stage, guiding him carefully so that he didn’t fall down the large steps. Yoongi had just finished a ‘Life Goes On’ and was taking a moment to catch his breath when he saw little feet running up towards him. His eyes widened and broke out into a huge grin when he saw him, squatting down to his level and spreading his arms. The fans, realising that he was Yoongi’s son, started to cheer even louder. 

The moment Ji-Hye crashed into Yoongi, every ounce of fear that Ji-Hye would be afraid of the cheers washed away in that instance. Yoongi scooped him up, hugging him tightly as your son laughed into the microphone, causing another wave of cheers to vibrate the stadium. It was a moment of pure, unscripted love between a father and his son. You stared at the two most important people in your life on stage, celebrating as if they were the only ones in the world. 

The fans were absolutely swooning - taking in this whole scene with hearty eyes and red faces - their hearts melted by the sheer adorableness of the scene. They watched as Ji-Hye whispered something into Yoongi’s ear and Yoongi’s eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. 

Yoongi turned to the fans, holding Ji-Hye high above his head like the scene from Lion King. “This is my son, Min Ji-Hye.” He announced proudly. “He’s a little ARMY like all of you.”

The fans erupted into cheers, shouting their love for both Yoongi and his son. Ji-Hye waved at the crowd, his gummy smile wide, grinning from ear to ear. Your heart felt so big that it was going to explode. 

As the concert continued, Yoongi held Ji-Hye in his arms, dancing with him on stage during a couple of songs. It was a moment of pure joy and it was clear that this concert had become something extraordinary - not just for the fans but for Yoongi and your family. 

After the concert, Yoongi was still beaming with light as he continued to hold Ji-Hye in his arms. “You know, you stole the show today.” He chuckled to his son.  

Ji-Hye looked up at his father, eyes shining with admiration. “Daddy!” He swung his little legs. “I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

Yoongi’s heart swelled with love. “You can be anything you want. Just remember to always be yourself.”

#btsfanfiction #bts #btsff #fluff #love #femalereader #music #yoongi #minyoongi #alternate universe #establish realtionship au #au #idol au #yoongi x reader #yoongi x oc #Yoongi x you #yoongi imagine #yoongi love #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #married au #parents au

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SEVEN: SHE'S THUNDERSTORMS

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✦ summary: in which corroded coffin performs at the hideout (wc: 9.3k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF, jealousy, jealous!menace!eddie, the kiddos make an appearance!!!, uhmm kissing,,, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, uhm thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. SO VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT. hopefully this makes up for it. as usual the song is by arctic monkeys, and the other song mentioned is lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. but we'll pretend like its all by corroded coffin so shshsh.

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

“Dude, I’m telling you it was not my fault.” Gareth exasperated desperately, hands up in the air in defeat.

But Eddie was quick to shake his head, “You drove her here, how is it not your fucking fault, Gareth?” He spat, bitter and angry. 

“She insisted! She wants to apologize to Pinky!”

“What?” Confusion etched across Eddie’s face. 

With an annoyed sigh, “Yeah, the whole fuckin’ world has to revolve around her,” Gareth muttered under his breath, knowing that saying anything about you would drive Eddie crazy. 

“Watch it,” Eddie warned, mouth downturned in disgust almost immediately. 

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Gareth, I’m not gonna tell you this a second fuckin’ time, okay? Don’t do that shit around me and never say one fucking word about her again, you got that?” He gritted through his teeth, his hand unintentionally clenching into a fist. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“I mean it,” Eddie spat.

“Fine, fine!” Gareth threw his hands up in defeat, both of them downing their drink before scurrying away. 

Shit.

You knew you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to get a drink for the group, surfing through the sea of people—which was unusual for The Hideout. Still, you guessed the only celebrity from Hawkins was enough to have people swarming in, and Gareth and Eddie happened to be chatting right behind you. 

Even though it stung to hear Gareth talk of you like you were the fucking anti-christ, hearing Eddie defend you like that had that familiar warmth spread through your entire body. And you hated it, you hated the soft spot you’d always have for him, how it would take you back to five years ago when he would be there for you, every single time. 

Fucking great, you had so many people to avoid tonight; Chrissy, Gareth, and Eddie. 

With a sigh, you quickly disappeared into the crowd, carrying a tray of drinks for everyone. Plopping it on the booth with a slight sloosh. 

Everyone reached for it and you were quick to slap away Max, Lucas, and Dustin’s curious hands. “Oh, come on!” Max protested with a groan. 

“Not legal,” you hummed with a narrowed gaze. “Yeah, I’m sure you were legal when you were shotgunning beers and smoking joints like it was your lifeline during senior year,” Lucas mumbled under his breath, quick to get settled into his seat with a huff. 

You gasped dramatically, “Lucas Sinclair!” Exclaiming as he gave you a simple shrug. 

“So what’s new with you and Mr. Rockstar, now?” He teased, and you narrowed your gaze at Max who snickered underneath her hand. 

“Nothing,” You mumbled, shying away from everyone’s gaze on you. 

“Good thing, we can always ask the other party, too,” Dustin chimed in with a smirk, head pointing toward behind you. 

There was a slow tap on your shoulder and you were quick to jerk your body around. 

Of course.

Eddie. 

His soft gaze was dumbly addicting, that boyish grin curled deliciously on his lips while amber eyes took you in wholly. 

His gaze wandered to your figure, the midnight blue dress embracing your figure, accentuating your curves, its hem grazed against your mid-thigh, allowing him to get a glimpse of your sun-kissed legs, simple but exuding how breathtakingly pretty you were. 

He couldn’t place why your brows were so tightly pinched together, or why your arms were crossed against your chest, plump lips downturned with a pout. Still, you looked so pretty, so alluring that he could barely form any sentence. 

Mind captured entirely by you, almost feeling paralyzed while he took you in. 

“H—hey!” He stammered, awkwardly putting his hands in the back pocket of his chained black jeans. He was just him, and oh, god, you were you. 

Plush lips that curled into the prettiest smile, the most captivating eyes, even when you seemingly looked upset, brows pinched together, those glossy lips downturned, you were perfect. 

You ignored Eddie’s greeting, your piercing glare was still not that noticeable to him, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked, and how he was glad that he saw you before his set. He wanted nothing more than to see you watching him perform the songs he wrote all about you. 

“Wow… Uhh—you look… amazing,” He mumbled, breath getting hitched on his throat when he saw your unreadable expression. 

And all you could do was give him a tight-lipped smile. Almost immediately wiping that glow off of his face, face going momentarily blank. 

But he should’ve expected this, he knew you wouldn’t jump into his arms at any opportunity, he deserved this. He needed to do more, he needed to win you back. 

He opened his mouth to speak, desperate, needing your approval, but you interrupted. “I—I’m going to get a drink,” you mumbled, face flushed with heat, you didn’t know how to act either. 

Eddie glanced over at the tray of drinks on the booth, with his head tilted, “there’s a bunch of drinks over there,” he mumbled, he didn’t want you to leave. 

“I can see that, but I still want my own,” you sassed with a narrowed gaze, not letting him talk back once you left to go to the bar. 

Eddie watched your figure leave with a deep sigh, turning to the booth to take one of the drinks. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yup,” Steve muttered with a nod, and Eddie was quick to give him a death glare. 

“So, will you finally enlighten us on what happened with you and Mrs. Grumpy over there?” Dustin huffed impatiently, grabbing three drinks from the tray now that you were gone, handing the other two to Max and Lucas with a grin.  

“She didn’t tell you guys?” 

“No! Which is a shame because she usually can’t say no to my adorable face.” Dustin blinked quickly, batting his eyelashes while Eddie shook his head at him with a chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon, Eddie, just tell us!” Max let out an impatient huff, her captivating icy blue gaze was pleading in a way that he could never say no to.

These doofuses would always be his weakness. 

“Yeah, Eddie, pretty please?” Lucas added exaggeratedly, mocking Max as she hit him in the chest playfully. 

“Fine, fine!” He sighed, running his hand over his forehead in frustration.  

“But nothing really happened and I don’t think it’s—” When he felt everyone’s gaze piercing through him, he was quick to shut up.  “Okay, okay!” He huffed.  

“She came to my trailer guns ablaze and then just slammed the note against my chest, calling me a coward, and then I told her off—”

“Wait what?” Max was quick to interrupt him, brows pinching together. 

“Yeah, I told her I wasn’t the one who left.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, didn’t you kiss Chrissy in front of her?” Max taunted.

“Yeah, and did you not bring her to Steve’s?” Dustin added. 

With a huff, he turned back to Steve. “Jesus, Harrington, did you gang up all of them against me?” He just gave Eddie a shrug. 

“That’s not even the point! Everything has just become too convoluted with us,” He spat, anger returning quicker than you intended to, while the rest of the gang sipped their drinks with an ‘oof’.

“It’s not convoluted, just tell her how you feel!” Max inquired, gently, almost like she was trying not to tip him off. 

“I—” He took a deep breath. I will. He wished to say, but saying it out loud felt too real. And you were right, he was a coward.

“I’m gonna properly apologize and make things right by her,” he muttered, taking a big sip from his drink. 

“You better hurry up, rockstar,” Steve taunted smugly, the weird face he pulled was making crinkles appear on Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie’s head cocked toward Steve, aggressively. “You better tell her how sorry you fucking are.”

With an all-knowing snort, Steve’s finger accusingly pointed towards something behind him. “Or someone else might swoop in.” 

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled, rolling his eyes before he turned around with a huff. 

Oh, shit. 

Everyone’s gaze turned toward Steve’s accusatory finger, a slight ‘shit’ escaping from Robin’s lips which Nancy elbowed gently to shut her up. 

Eddie could barely move, his entire face feeling hot and jaw clenching involuntarily, jealousy shooting through him faster than the alcohol swimming in his system. 

Because there you stood, in front of the bar, with your head tilted sideways, a pretty grin sitting on your lips, mellow gaze looking up at the guy in front of you—dirty blonde, hair cut shorter than Eddie’s but almost as long as Steve’s, wearing the most expensive and tidy outfit Eddie had ever seen—making him feel stupid for choosing to wear those black chained jeans. 

His scowl was anything but pretty, brows furrowing in a way that made him look like a complex puzzle, eyeing the way this stranger was touching you. 

“Oh, isn’t that—” Robin spoke up, and the entire table shushed her because they also realized exactly who that was. 

James.

Your ex, not Billy, of course, the other douchebag before Billy. 

He really wasn’t much of a douchebag, a genuine, nice guy, and to make matters worse he was a total gentleman; attributes Eddie would never call a typical high school Jock. 

The relationship only ended because he went to college one too many states away, the distance getting between the two of you, but Eddie always referred to him as ‘the douchebag’ The jealous feeling sunk into his chest even then. 

Rich kid, a jock in high school, older than both of you, someone who had his life together. Everything that Eddie never was. Everything Eddie always wished to be.

But now, seeing you with him made something almost click in Eddie’s head, like he was meant for you as he suited you much better than Eddie ever would. 

He could treat you much better than Eddie would, sure Eddie had his name now, the riches he never had back in high school. But he was still just Eddie.

And he was certain James never kissed Chrissy, he’d never fuck up like Eddie did.

He watched the way your eyes lit up when he was animatedly talking, his gentle touch on your arm, the smile that curled on your lips. 

What if he asked for your number? What if he wanted to reconnect? What if you said yes? Just because Eddie had been a total fucking idiot and couldn’t see what was right in front of him? 

He tried so hard to push the idea of the two of you together back into his mind. To make sure it never left, to make sure it never manifested. 

But the way his jaw clenched and the deadly glare burning through both of you showed that he couldn’t. 

He was jealous, a type of jealousy that quickly translated into anger, one he could almost feel on his skin, hot and prickling rage stabbing into his body, agonizingly slow, making it harder for him to stay glued there and not do anything the more he eyed the hold James had on you. He was standing too close for Eddie’s liking. 

Usually, he’d let this feeling sink back into his mind, take a breather, smoke a couple of cigarettes, and then act like nothing was wrong for the rest of the night while he spent it sulking. Keep that rage caged in his chest, so he could keep his feelings contained. 

But he couldn’t do that this time, no. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers, not again. He was going to fight for you, he was going to show you that you belonged with him. 

No matter what Mr. Fancy Pants could offer to you, he needed to tell you how he really felt, he needed to make sure you knew. Because even if he could feel the insecurities jabbing into his brain, he always knew, deep down that there was something there between the two of you. Something always left undiscovered because both of you were cowards.

He couldn’t let that happen again, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Oh, I get the appeal now,” Max murmured, breaking the silence between everyone, and earning a hard glare from Eddie. 

“What? He seems nice, has pretty hair, much better than Steve’s, and that outfit probably cost more than your wedding,” Max spoke bluntly, now earning more than just the hard glare of Eddie, mouth hung open Steve looked offended, Nancy and Jonathan narrowed their gaze, but Robin snickered behind her hand, almost giving Max her approval. 

“Max!” Lucas reacted before them and Max furrowed her brows, a smirk earning her way to her lips. “You’re still my number one Lucas, don’t worry,” She hummed, pinching Lucas’ cheek and ignoring Dustin’s groan.

“Dude, why would you do that?” Dustin whispered, eyeing Eddie worriedly while nudging Steve by his jacket. 

With a dramatic huff, Steve pulled his collar back, “Relax, I know what I’m doing.” 

Eddie’s fingertips absentmindedly traced the rim of the glass in front of him, his eyes never leaving the two of you when he downed the drink, slamming it back on the booth, making everyone flinch. 

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie muttered, a forced chuckle escaping his lips. 

“What are you even going to do?” Robin inquired, almost mocking.

A smirk landed on Eddie’s face. “I’m not going down without a fight, Buckley.” 

“Not this fucking time,” he hissed, almost all the brows of the gang raising at his determination.

“I’m gonna tell her how I feel, and I’m not letting another douchebag ruin this,” Eddie mumbled, and a dumb smirk was placed on everyone’s face almost too quickly.

He was going for it, and the soap opera was continuing, the gang watched in excitement.

“Was he ever really a doucheba—” Dustin’s worries were quick to die down when he threw him a deadly glare.

Without another word, he stormed off to the side of the bar. Quick, too fucking quickly that it almost gave him a whiplash. He didn’t know what had taken over him, eyes burning the back of their figures as everyone else at the table watched him with a proud look. 

But the child-like jealousy he felt within his body was uncontainable, it felt like his face was almost too hot to touch, he was desperate, quite literally. 

The tap on James’ shoulder was anything but gentle, making him turn to Eddie with his pair of brows furrowed, and Eddie’s muscles were quick to tense. 

His dark gaze only softened when he looked back at you, muscles relaxing, and creased brows returning to their normal form. 

The jealousy eased inside of him, not dissipating quite enough, but slowing with one gaze from you.

Back in the booth, with another sip from his drink, Lucas huffed, “Five bucks says they’ll confess by tonight.” 

Robin was quick to snort at him, “You’re trusting them too much, kid, Steve’s ‘little push’ might help them,” She mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “But Jesus fucking Christ, just look at her face, she’s going to go off at him. The most they’ll probably do is have another fight, get just a little bit close to talking about their feelings, and then do it all over again.”

Steve, ignoring Robin’s theories, exclaimed with a smirk. “Ten bucks that Pinky will sleep with Eddie tonight!”

“I second that,” Max said with a grin.

“Steve!” Nancy warned with a disapproving tut. 

“What?” He huffed. 

“They’re kids!”

“We’re nineteen!” Max groaned. 

“I turn twenty next month!” Dustin chimed in. 

“Still!”

“Fine, fine!” Steve sighed with a glare at Nancy, “Then ten bucks that they’ll kiss tonight!” 

“No fucking way.” Robin shook her head. 

“Nah, they’ll at least kiss tonight,” Jonathan said with crossed arms. 

“Are you guys seriously betting on our friends?” Nancy said with a furrowed brow. 

They all nodded vigorously, “Fine,” Nancy muttered. 

“Then I second Steve, ten bucks for them sle-kissing.” Nancy corrected herself, earning a wicked grin from Steve. 

“Come on!” Robin groaned, dissatisfied by Nancy’s answer. 

“I agree with Robin,” said Dustin with a shrug.

“Finally!” Robin exclaimed, hands rubbing together in victory. “Someone with common sense. There’s no way those idiots are going to do anything but fight, just watch her come back here, all fuming about how much she hates Eddie.”

They all shrugged, going back to continue watching the soap opera unravel in front of them. 

“James!” Eddie greeted with faux excitement, a grin playing on his lips, amber gaze remaining on you. With your brows creased, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ you mouthed behind their awkward hug.

He shrugged, and his hands clutched James’ shoulder harshly, making him chuckle awkwardly. “Munson, the man of the hour!” He greeted him with a beaming smile.

He really was too nice for his own good, wasn’t he?

“I’d ask what you were up to, but it seems you’ve been doing just fine, rockstar,” James exclaimed, returning a friendly slap to Eddie on his shoulder—in a much nicer way than Eddie intended with his.

You smiled uncomfortably, your gaze still throwing daggers at Eddie, who was actively avoiding it. “I have to say that last album? Fucking Christ, had it playing over and over again for days.” He beamed again, much to both of your dismay.

That all-knowing smirk on Eddie’s face disappeared, the unexpected compliment seemed to make him uncomfortable, conflicting with the defensive walls he had put up.

“Uhh—thanks man,” he chuckled awkwardly, casting a quick, scrutinizing glance at you, catching the small smirk on your lips.

“What have you been up to?” He asked, curiously, desperate to know what the two of you were talking about, nervous to see if the two of you would do anything more than this.

The confidence in the way James held himself, his slicked hair, his fancy outfits up close, Eddie’s insecurities washed him over once again. Now with that part of his brain convincing him that the two of you would somehow end up together again.

“Oh, you know, I was just in town, got a nice job here, thought I’d stop by to see Corroded Coffin play, been seeing the posters everywhere—great marketing by the way,” He hummed, flashing Eddie a smile. 

And Eddie returned a forced one, lips pursed together in annoyance. “and then I thought I’d get a drink, but then I heard this familiar voice next to me, yelling to the guy next to her to fuck off for attempting to steal her drink, and I thought oh that’s Pinky.” Eddie couldn’t help but not keep his gaze on you, studying your features, almost gauging your reaction, trying to nitpick something to fuel his jealousy. 

“Been a long time, but I’d never miss this one’s sassy voice and that pretty face,” He mumbled with a sly smirk, making Eddie’s face scrunch and almost making him scoff out loudly. 

“Oh, stop it!” You mumbled with a smile, all flattered, and Eddie’s gaze narrowed, jealousy overtaking him again. 

“So you two are… reconnecting for the old times' sake, huh?” Eddie asked through gritted teeth and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Eddie—”

With a smile, James turned to you, “I mean I’d love to grab a drink, are you free tomorrow?”

“Ah! I wish I could, but I need to help Nancy out with some wedding stuff.”

“How about next wee—”

“She’s busy,” Eddie interjected quickly. 

“Eddie!” You warned with your brows raised, heat rising to your cheeks, what the fuck was he doing? 

“Can I just—steal you away for a minute?” Eddie turned to you with his jealous gaze, hand gently having a hold on your arm. 

“Oh, sure, man!” 

“No!” You and James exclaimed in unison. 

James stared at the two of you with his brows furrowed, both of you breathing heavily, an intense gaze connecting the two of you. With a sigh, you followed him out of the crowd, an apologetic smile thrown toward James. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

You scoffed, “Me? What the hell are you doing, Eddie?” You snapped, naze garrowing. 

“I’m not locking lips with James that’s for sure!”

“Jesus Christ I was not locking lips with—” You halted abruptly, the absurdity of the sentence hitting you like a wave. Taking a moment to breathe, “What are you a child?”

“Well, if pointing out the obvious means I’m a child then so fucking be it!” The words tumbled out of his mouth harshly, almost lost in the din of the bar. 

“The obvious? Do I need to remind you that you were the one who kissed Chrissy?” You accused sharply, your anger returning and cutting through Eddie’s jealousy like a knife. 

“Look, I—I’m genuinely sorry for that, Pinky, I am. I should’ve never done that, it was a mistake—” His voice strained, getting lost amidst the background clamor, their set was about to start and Eddie could careless. 

He took a step closer, but you didn’t budge. “You don’t kiss someone as a mistake, Eddie! You don’t invite them to brunch as a fucking mistake!” You snapped, tone a poignant mix of bitterness, jealousy, and an equal amount of hurt. Teary yet ablaze gaze bored into Eddie's, breaking his heart more and more. 

His shoulders sagged under the weight of your words, the realization of the irreparable damage sinking in. 

He took a step closer, a desperate attempt to bridge the emotional gap.“Will you just listen to me?” Eddie's plea hung in the air, the room seemingly shrinking as you and Eddie’s gaze connected. Your breaths mingled, heavy with unspoken words that pulsed between you. 

Only inches apart, and you couldn’t help it when your gaze drooped down to his lips, then back to his mellow eyes.

“Eddie, this is the fifth fucking time they’ve been calling you.” Gareth’s irritating voice snapped the conversation, loud enough to have you almost jump back, as you threw Gareth a daggering gaze. 

“Just fucking wait for a second,” Eddie spat, trying to dismiss him, but the moment was gone. 

And Gareth wasn’t having it. “No way, dude we go on in like five minutes,” He scoffed, momentarily dragging Eddie by his arm.  

“Fine, fine!” Eddie scowled, shaking off the hold.  

“You should uh— go.” 

“Let me explain,” He almost begged, desperate. 

But with another dismissal, you left. 

Eddie wanted to drop everything and run to you, apologize, tell you what he felt, but somehow, some way he was always managing to fuck up the things between the two of you, now. 

It was like he was fourteen again, his dad letting him know that he always managed to fuck up something good, that he was destined to the Munson name. Like he could never manage to do something right.

Wayne, Jonathan, Corroded Coffin, and Nancy all changed that belief. 

But, you? Oh, god, you made him believe that he was good, you pulled him out of that darkness, you were the first one to believe in him, you were the one who encouraged him. You made him feel like he was on the right path, always. 

And you were the one who mattered, if he didn’t have you believing that now, what else did he have? 

With a hand on his shoulder, Jeff was dragging him back, he stared at your figure leaving, and with a sigh, he headed backstage. 

-

Aurora was the fifth song they sang, and it should’ve gotten to you, the way his gaze didn’t leave yours, how vulnerable he sounded, the way he barely even made eye contact with the guitar he was supposed to be focusing on, that should’ve gotten to you. 

But it didn’t. 

Your glossy gaze and your crossed arms, as everyone else around you cheered for him, did nothing but upset you more and more. 

Everything was so confusing that you couldn’t even make sense of yourself anymore. Yes, you were mad about everything with Chrissy, but you also knew he didn’t know everything that transpired between you and her. 

Chrissy and Billy should’ve been enough for him to not want anything to do with her, yet you still believed him when he told you it was a mistake, that he would’ve never done it if he knew. And the pool… the things he said in the car. Hours ago when you went to his trailer.

Sure, he was sorry, and he said he’d prove himself to you. 

But none of you ever out loud said anything, it had always been a cowardice dance around your feelings, and you were afraid that if this dance ended, then it would be all too real. It would all be over.

A heave of breath exited your lips, attempting to drown away the worries, but they were spiked up the second the song ended and Eddie spoke up again. 

“This next song is for my friends over there, Nancy and Jonathan,” He exclaimed with a grin, finger excitedly pointing towards the two of them, it was the first time his gaze had left yours, involuntarily your head turned to your right. 

“They’re getting married this weekend, and were kind enough to let me and my dipshit friends play,” He said with a sheepish grin, and Nancy and Jonathan shyly smiled at him, waving him off in a dismissive way, 

“So this is for the soon-to-be newlywed couple, and for the special girl next to them, who’s mad at me for a lot of reasons, and she has every right to be, I was a total ass.” He earned chuckles and some cheering from the crowd, who unintentionally all faced you. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but hey, maybe this might help my case, huh?” He said with a grin, his gaze was dangerously addicting, full of promises, and you couldn’t help the way it made stupid butterflies appear in your stomach. 

It was so easy for him to get you like this, you were starting to feel pathetic. 

Speechless, and the heat quick to rise to your cheeks, you were trying to ignore the whispers and stares from the crowd, but it was basically impossible. 

The opening chords were enough to rattle your memory, the dreamy guitar riffs from Eddie sweeping in echoing the space as if it was just the two of you. 

You knew exactly which song he was playing. 

And the vocals, added with Eddie’s smooth, sultry voice were enough to have your heartbeat raising making you almost feel small, haziness overtaking your mind. 

And it only brought back one memory to your mind. 

FIVE YEARS AGO.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

Another job interview, another opportunity you feel like you have missed.

It hadn’t been long since the two of you had arrived in Los Angeles, yet every passing minute felt like you had been wasting away your time, you needed a job, and no one in stupid LA was hiring you. 

A groan escaped your lips when you plopped yourself onto the couch, right next to Eddie who was way too into scribbling something into a notebook. 

Wait… was he using the…? 

“Is that… the notebook?” Your eyes lit up happily. It was such a small, stupid thing. 

But for you, it was important. That notebook was important. And you never actually thought he’d care about it, but it looked like he was carrying it in his back pocket. 

“Is that a crime?” Eddie sassed.

With a scoff, you narrowed your gaze. “No, doofus! I just didn’t think you’d actually use it.” 

Almost taken aback Eddie sat up straight on the couch, knees brushing against yours now. “Are you kidding? Half of this bad boy is filled with lyrics.”

“What is the other half made of?” You asked with a dangerous grin. 

“You’d have to kill me to find out.” Eddie enunciated dramatically, tone drooping lower to mimic mystery. 

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, curiosity getting the best of you. Scooting closer to him, you pouted. “Can’t you at least give me something?” You asked, all doe-eyed, tone sticky sweet, in a way that always got to Eddie. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” He groaned, almost melting into you, “You know I’ll give you anything if you ask that sweetly.”

You grinned happily, clapping your hands together in victory once he ripped up a page and handed it to you. 

“That is the chorus of a song I’m working on,” He mumbled, eyes nervously following you, waiting to read your reaction.

She's thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She's thunderstorms

Your eyes blinked quickly to process everything. It had been not too long since the both of you had come to L.A., Eddie was desperately trying to send the band’s best material to any label who was willing to sign them. 

And you had just gotten out of a horrible relationship, things had not been steady enough for the two of you to ever discuss anything about your feelings, always tip-toeing around it, but too scared to ever actually delve into it. 

Yet, you could tell this was about you, something about being described as thunderstorms stuck to your mind, maybe he somehow meant it as good. But all it reminded you of was destruction. And he wasn’t wrong. 

It was like everywhere you went, something horrible followed, exactly like a dark cloud looming over, waiting to strike anyone daring to be near you. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, teeth grazing through your nails anxiously. “Who’s this thunderstorm girl?” You asked, masking your nervousness with a brittle smile. 

He snatched the notebook back, ignoring your little huff. “Someone I went to school with,” He answered cooly and then leaned further into your face with a grin. “I was drivin’ around one day, then saw this girl’s car on the side of the road, to be nice I helped fix her car but then she became totally obsessed with me.” He recalled the first time he met you, animatedly.

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yeah, didn’t leave me alone for years.”

With a narrowed gaze, “Asshole,” you bantered.

“That’s so weird,” He hummed with a smirk “That was her favorite nickname for me,” quipped Eddie and you stuck your tongue at him childishly. 

With a slight push on his elbow, he drew closer to you. “So… what did you think?” He coaxed nervously, you could tell it was important to him, yet being this close was making your mind spin. 

“I like it,” you muttered, unable to face his beautiful features when he was so close, and your mind spinning with the fact that Eddie thought of you as destructive, too.

“That’s it? You… just like it?”

“No that’s not it, it’s just—” With a sigh you snatched back the notebook from his hands. “It’s just… isn’t this bad?” 

“What?” His brows creased together in worry, “W-which one did you not like I can change it-” You shook your head, interrupting his anxious ramble.

“No! I love all of them! But describing… uh—this girl,” Tip-toeing around it, causing Eddie to smirk. “As thunderstorms? Isn’t that bad?” 

“No, not at all. It’s a metaphor.” He shook his head, explaining gently.

“She embodies the essence of thunderstorms—unpredictable and explosive. She has the power to create chaos and destruction, and on the surface that might sound bad, yet within that destruction she sparks a new life. You know, making it so much better,” He hummed, licking his lips.  

“And she also feels like a thunderstorm, intense and electrifying, shaking up your life, in the best way possible.”

“Oh. Wow,” You mumbled, gaze turning mellow with how well he explained everything, heart melting with how he saw you, not just from the surface, like he could peel the intricate layers of your existence, appreciating every part of it. 

“Uhh, then I love that actually,” you concluded with a smile, attempting to mask the fluttering in your stomach. Did he really see you in that way? 

Did he really see you as someone worth all of this? You tried to ignore the tears prickling in your eyes, begging to pour out, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment. 

You didn’t deserve him. In the slightest. He didn’t deserve to get caught up in your bullshit. You shouldn’t have dragged him here. You were being selfish, but, god, did it feel good. 

To finally feel safe, to finally have someone take care of you, to finally have someone you could rely on. After everything, didn’t you at least deserve to be a little selfish? 

But that feeling ate away at you, even though you shook it off for the moment, it was eventually going to return. And it did. 

“You do?” His brows raised in surprise, it made you want to fuck all and just grab his cheeks and kiss him, lips plush together until the two of you couldn’t breathe. 

But you couldn’t afford that, you couldn’t afford the feelings, nor could you afford the fallout. You couldn’t lose him. 

“Mhmm,” You answered with a broken smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He always did.  

“She sounds special.”

“She is,” Eddie agreed, eyeing you with a worried look. “Very, very special,” He repeated, he could tell something was off. 

But it was okay, because he was here for you now, and he wasn’t going to leave. 

NOW:

Suddenly the room felt suffocating. 

Eddie’s gaze on you felt mocking.

It was stupid, he had just dedicated the song to you, yet all your mind could focus on was everything bad that had happened. Ruining everything good that happened with him. 

How were you even going to be with him if you couldn’t even handle this?  

Fear, trust issues, being afraid of not knowing how things were going to go, if you would fuck this up too, then that was it for you. No one else could compare, and you knew that. 

Maybe if you just knew that the same went for Eddie, if you just could see that the five years you spent apart had been just as hell-ish for him if not more. The constant thoughts in his mind reminded him that he could never be over you, truly. Sure, it hurt less now, but the scar was still there, scabbing the second someone mentioned you. The realization of knowing no one could ever be you etched onto his skin. 

“Hey… you okay?” Steve’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts, Eddie’s voice served as a background noise while his gaze was still stuck on you. 

“Y-yeah, I just—” You faltered, face growing numb and anxiety increasing when you suddenly needed some air. 

Too much, all of it was too much. 

Eddie could almost sense it, he grew worried at your frowny brows and your tear-streaked gaze. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, body jerking back scurrying out quickly when you ignored everyone calling out for your name. 

Eddie’s vocals almost halted, missing a few notes on the guitar before Gareth was quick to snap him back to it. 

His head cocked toward your direction, desperate, nearly begging to stop the show, but all of them shook their head quickly, and once Eddie turned back to see the look on Jonathan and Nancy’s face, he realized he couldn’t do this to them. 

This was his friends' wedding, and he owed this to them. When the song ended, he was quick to mouth to the others, “After the next song, we’re taking a break.” It wasn’t a request, it was final.

And frankly, the rest of them were too tired out to even argue with a hot-headed Eddie.

“So how is your plan working, dingus?” Robin jeered at Steve.

“Shut up.”

There were a couple more people outside, all leaning against the wall, chuckling while talking over each other loudly, the smoke of their lit cigarettes quick to take over your senses. 

With a cough, you leaned further away from them, mind still unraveling what had just happened. You didn’t even know what was happening anymore. 

You wanted to smoke, hand itched to reach for the pocket of your jacket and light one to take away your stress, but you could barely breathe as it was right now. 

A light tap on your shoulder snapped you away from your thoughts. 

Who was it now? 

You huffed loudly when your head cocked back.

Fucking great. 

Chrissy.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, this just had to be your luck, your feet picked up quickly, hand quick to reach for the door and go back inside.

“Please, please don’t leave,” She pleaded.

Your hold on the door remained, barely glancing back at her, “Just leave me alone!” You snapped. 

“I just want to apologize, please, then I’ll leave you alone, forever.”

“Please, just five minutes.”

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. 

Your hold on the door faltered, and with a deep sigh, you turned to her. “Fine.”

“Five minutes,” You warned, your patience already wearing thin.  

Her face lit up, blinking a few times to make sure she heard you correctly. “O-oh, okay, good,” She cleared her throat.

“First of all, I’m sorry, for everything, for what I said five years ago, for what I did with Billy, for using what he did to you like a fucking joke. For w-what I said about your parents.” She stammered.

“It’s too late, I know, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have done any of those things, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved a better friend, someone like you.” She almost looked at you like she was waiting for your approval, gauging your reaction, your expressionless face encouraged her to continue. 

“I was bitter, jealous. Which isn’t a fucking excuse, I know, I was just—” she took a deep breath. “You were everything I wanted to be, careless, had all the boys' attention, and you didn’t even have to try, you didn’t have to do anything, and they’d just fall at your feet. And I was stupid, bitter, and insecure enough to envy that.”

“That’s not my problem, Chrissy.” You spat out with your gaze narrowing, you couldn’t handle her pity party right now.

“And really, you wanted to be me? Chrissy I didn’t have parents, my boyfriend was a narcissistic asshole.I was broke.” You scoffed with an ironic chuckle, shaking your head in anger.

“I know, I know. It was stupid, and I was stupid, and you didn’t deserve any of that.” Sincerity. Something you haven’t seen from her in years.

“I just wanted to tell you that none of it was your fault.” Now your gaze narrowed, a chuckle rolling on your lips. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to protest. “No, I know you’re going to say you didn’t think that but I know you do. Even though you hate me, which I don’t blame you, I know you like the back of my hand, you blame yourself, you always did it. And I’m telling you shouldn’t because it was all my fault. A-and I shouldn’t have done whatever I did with Eddie, I practically took advantage of him like he did to me and then got mad at him, oh god, I’m such a fucking bitch, aren’t I?”

Your eyes blinked quickly to process all of it. Her apology didn’t mean anything, her words didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you knew she was right, even if you wouldn’t admit it. Because you spent many nights blaming yourself, for even opening up to them in the first place. 

“First of all, breathe,” you mumbled with annoyance.  

“Second of all, yes you are,” you huffed. 

“And, taking advantage? What do you mean?” 

“Some fucked up part of me wanted him because I knew you wanted him back then, a-and he was right there and he was being nice to me and—” Chrissy took a deep sigh, big blue eyes staring into you knowing that you were not going to like what she was going to say.

“I should’ve known.”

With puckered brows, you crossed your arms against your chest. “Known what?” 

“That he was still hung up on you,” she muttered.

You were quick to roll your eyes, “Chrissy—”

“No, no just listen.” But she wasn’t going to let you spiral.

“Look you were dumb enough then—” You threw her a glare, so daggeringly cold that she stopped.  

“Sorry,” she muttered before continuing, “Look, the two of you wasted a lot of time. And I know it’s funny hearing this from me because I took part in it, but I’m only saying this because he’s a nice guy, even though I don’t particularly like him right now, he’s a nice guy, and you deserve someone like him.” She enunciated, azure hues embodying such sympathy that had you taken aback.

“You loved him back then, too. I could see it, and I could see it in him, too. That’s what I always wanted, and maybe that’s why he intrigued me so much. But I knew he never got over you.” 

You could feel your heart skip a beat, it wasn’t anything new, but hearing this from her, it meant something. 

You needed to take control of your feelings, and hearing Chrissy’s words was doing nothing but fuel them more. “Chrissy stop—”

“No, Pinky! He told me! He told me it was you! It had always been you!” She exclaimed, her face growing a nice pink color as you stood frozen.

Your brain felt mushy, rest of your body felt so warm, but still that anger lingered. Why couldn’t he just tell you this? Why couldn’t he just show you?

“What?” You mumbled, brows pinched together.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, sighing at your reaction.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you this, and tell you to get your head out of your ass. I know I’m the last person you wanted to hear this from, but I had to at least make one thing right for you because I know I fucked up every other thing.”

You wanted to tell her to stay the fuck out of it, you wanted to tell her it was all because of her. That she basically ruined your life. But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t all her, it was Billy, too. It wasn’t all her, Eddie played a part in it, too. 

But you weren’t going to waste your breath, you didn’t need to blow up in her face for her to know she was wrong, she needed to let that feeling sink in. You weren’t going to forgive her, and you didn’t need to make a fuss about it to feel real. 

This was it. A closure. 

“I’m sorry, for everything. And I know that you won’t forgive me, but that’s okay. I’m sorry, but please listen to what I just said. Please don’t get in your head and try to ruin something this perfect, okay?”

A peaceful smile appeared on your lips, and you took a deep breath. “You’re right, I won’t forgive you.” You weren’t going to give her any satisfaction or approval, her words didn’t mean a thing. 

“Goodbye, Chrissy.” You mumbled. 

You could see her stammering, struggling to open her mouth, because she couldn’t say anything else, and this is what she promised, five minutes. It was over. 

You backed yourself against the wall, fingers fishing out the pack of cigarettes sitting in the pocket of your jacket. 

Without having anything else left to say, she left. And you heaved a sigh of breath, the tip of your cigarette smoldering when you lit it. 

You inhaled with eyes squeezed shut, head swirling with much to think about. But at least you were alone. Finally, some space for you to think, and to lay out a little bit of your stress with the most unhealthy outlet.  

And of course, that peace lasted for about a few minutes, just when you had finished your cigarette, squishing the remains on the nearest trashcan, Eddie appeared, lightly squeezing your arm to have your attention.

“What?” You snapped when you saw him, eyeing the way he looked taken aback. 

His hands held up in front of his chest in defeat, clearly not understanding your sudden rage. The laughter around you had died, people who were smoking outside the bar were clearly more entertained by your drama. 

With a huff, you dragged Eddie away from it all, still close to the bar but far away to not have any other distractions. 

He sighed, brows etched with worry. “Why did you leave?”

Your hand flew to your forehead, trying to calm your nerves, trying to clear your mind. “Eddie, are you kidding me?” You scoffed, arms wrapped across your chest defensively. “You can’t just drag me away from James, dedicate songs to me and—”

His forehead puckered. “Why not? They’re all about you anyway,” he said with a sly smirk. 

“Aurora, She’s Thunderstorms, Zero, Forget Her, Resolve, Fool, two fucking albums, all dedicated to you, you know that.”

“These notes? These stupid notes I’ve been carrying?” He huffed loudly, hand quick to fish inside of his back pocket, aggressively flipping through the pages. “Even if every nerve in my body were numb I’d still be able to feel her.” He turned the page toward you before flipping again. 

“I have tried to forget you but I can’t, you invade my dreams, my mind, my whole fucking life. You’re stuck in me and I don’t have the heart to get you out.” He shook his head, reciting it all like it was nothing, but you felt all of it. 

His notes making you dizzy. His words scrambling your mind like never before. 

“She’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever. That one is uh—in a song, too,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing with how passionate he was getting, and you held your breath, it’s like you were staring into his soul. 

Stark naked. Laying bare, he really was doing this. And you didn’t want him to stop, even though your mouth suggested otherwise. 

“And so much more embarrassing stuff that I don’t want to include to not ruin my chances,” he muttered with a lazy smile, and you hated that you could feel it in your skin, the flutters, stomach flipping in the best possible way. 

“All fucking about you. Because it was you, from the moment we met.”

“S—stop,” your mouth betrayed you, it was the furthest thing from the truth, and you needed to hear more. You needed the reassurance, you needed him to convince you. More than anything in the world. 

But it was all so scary, and he was so close to you that you could feel his passion integrated into your veins. 

“Why, Pinky, why should I stop? Why do we have to tip-toe around each other, huh?” He was desperate, eyes flashing with a newfound of desire for you, he wasn’t going to let it go this time.

And it scared you, him being this determined, getting so close to what you actually felt was making your skin crawl, because the way you could feel your heart thumping against your ribcage wasn’t normal. What he was making you feel wasn’t normal. “Because w—we can’t!”

“We can’t what?” He complained, a deep sigh escaping his lips. 

“W—we can’t do this, you can’t—”

He shook his head with his brows puckered. “Who are you to decide that? I want to, I so badly want to,” He spat, taking a step closer to you, face merely inches away from you. 

His gaze was dangerously inviting, those alluring amber eyes melted into yours, making your pupils dilate, breath hitching as you struggled to keep him away. “Please, Eddie, d—don’t.”

You gulped, hand raising to put a space between the two of you, but it was impossible. He was in your veins now. “Too much has happened, you with Chrissy and—” You didn’t even know what you were blabbering about, just anything to stop your feelings from getting out. 

“Chrissy was a mistake!” He retorted with a hiss. He hated that you saw Chrissy as a problem between the two of you. Yes, he fucked up, but it really was a mistake, he’d take it all back in a heartbeat if he could. 

Your gaze narrowed, that pettiness returned when you scoffed. “Which time, when you kissed her or when you brought her to brunch?”

Eddie let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head when he looked at you with a dumbfounded look. “Jesus fucking Christ…” He took a breather. “I can’t believe you’re doing that again,” he mumbled, realizing that it wasn’t going to be easy to get you out of this mindset. 

It was going to be hard, to convince you of anything, and he understood that, he had trust issues himself, but he wasn’t going to back down. This was it.

You crossed your arms against your chest, gaze avoiding him momentarily. “Doing what?” You muttered.

“You just— you get scared when things get serious, running away when it gets just even a little bit too real,” He scoffed, angling closer to you, fingers ruffling through his curls in frustration.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah! You call me a coward and fucking look at you!” He snapped, hands gesturingly pointing to you.

“Scrambling just at the thought of us being together.” He argued, some part of him feeling a bit insecure, that maybe you didn’t want this. But, no, he saw that glint in your eyes, he knew the little angry twitch on your lips. You felt the same. And all you needed was a little push. 

You breathed, mind scrambled and trying so hard to convince yourself to leave. “T—that’s not it, you—uh you just don’t get it!” You complained with a huff. 

Another step closer. One more step and his lips would be on yours, Eddie knew this, you knew this. His gaze momentarily drooped down to your lips, then back to your dilated pupils. 

“Then make me understand, let me help you, don’t fucking run, not this time.” It was a little jab, but something needed to get you to spill, he was playing all the right cards and you were getting overwhelmed.

“J—just stop!”

“Why? Fucking why? Tell me one good fucking reason as to why we shouldn’t try it, we never even gave it a chance!” He ranted, veins in his forehead popping with how much he was trying to keep it all together. And you weren’t even trying. 

“We wouldn’t work, okay?” 

He shook his head. “Not good enough,” He argued. 

“W—we’re on two different paths now, Eddie.” You didn’t have any good excuses, he was right. 

“Not good enough.” Once again, that same arguing tone. 

You huffed. “Too much time passed and—”

“Not fucking good enough!” He cursed, hands landing on your shoulder to keep you in place, and your cheeks flushed immediately, while still trying to deny it. You were pathetic.

“Stop being a fucking coward!” He seethed, eyes fiery and red. 

Why were you insisting on being so fucking stubborn? You were driving him crazy, yet it wasn’t going to stop him. 

Coward is what had you scrambling. Because you knew he was right. “Fuck you,” You spat, body jerking quickly to leave, feet picking up quickly as Eddie groaned loudly.

So. Fucking. Stubborn. 

He was quick on his feet, letting curses slip past his lips before he yanked you to him, earning a small gasp from your lips before you finally faced him. 

Gaze mellow, but just as fiery, your furrowed brows and dilated pupils only encouraging him more and more. Flutters in your stomach had never left, your skin was burning, everywhere, but specifically on the hold he had on you. 

You didn’t manage to utter anything else, you couldn’t because he had you this time. There was no running away from it, your heart was hammering so hard inside of your chest that you were sure he could hear it. 

His hold on your arm was firm but somehow gentle, letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you go.

You opened your mouth, wanting to speak, but he interrupted, his hands now firmly cupping your cheeks, squishing you with force, and you couldn’t help the contended sigh that left your parted lips. “I’m not letting you run away, not this time,” He mumbled, words sounding like silk falling from his lips, all you could do was gaze into him. He stood inches away from you, breath fanning against your face.

He licked his lips desperately, gaze drooping to your candy-glossed, needy lips. Face so close that you could feel the desperation radiating off of him. And you shared it. You managed to take a quick breath before his hand fisted your hair and his mouth crashed down to yours.

He pressed you harder against his chest, breathless, your lips molded together, a perfect fit. And he could taste the Cosmopolitan on your tongue, a tinge of alcohol mixed with your sweetness, making his head spin, a taste he realized he’d never have enough of. 

Those little thumps your heart did were now out of control, possibly pounding a million beats a second. His small stubble scratched against your chin, rough, it should’ve made you uncomfortable yet all it did was make you kiss him harder, shutting up your brain as your mouth replied to him, kissing him back with just as much force, you melted into him, melted into his hold, and you let him engulf you, fully, completely. 

Plushy lips slightly parted apart, his tongue slipped past between your teeth, your hand finding its way to his hair, feeling the curly strands between your fingers, it’s softer than you expected and your lips parted to let out a slight whine as you tugged at them.

All those years of wishing, all those years of wanting, yearning, and needing exploded into this. Kissing like your lives depended on it, chests pressed against each other, Eddie’s hand slipping to your waist, desperately tugging you closer to him as if that was even possible. 

Your heart exploded into your chest, his tongue not wavering the chance to explore yours, sucking on it, greedily, desperately. 

The background noises disappeared, the cackles of the girls, the booming music coming from inside of the bar, and the honks from the busy street. They ceased to exist and it was just you and him. Feeling each other, completely, fully. 

You knew at some point one of you had to pull away, but none of you dared to, it was just pure desire, a hunger that couldn’t be sated. 

All the years spent yearning and pining, acting like two fucking idiots. 

He wanted to breathe you, drink you in, and he wasn’t intent on letting you go. Ever.

You from five minutes ago who wanted to refuse him, refuse this was an absolute fucking idiot. Gone. You tasted like the sweetest honey and he tasted like everything you wanted and more. It’s even needier than the first kiss, more sure, it’s like a promise. 

This is it. Both of you can feel it. This finally changes everything. 

final authors note — uhhhh so yeah... if yall wanna talk about that my asks r open LMAO.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #getaway car series #getaway car

[avocado-writing]

Ok this request might be a bit specific but can you write headcanons for halsin,astarion ,dammon karlach and lae'zel (feel free to add any other character if you want) when their petite partner comes back from fighting the god of death and suddenly they're towering over them? (It's temporary but they'll take advantage of the fact that they can carry halsin)

This happened to me in my play through, I kept trying to remove items from my inventory because I was slower and it wasn't until I came across halsin in the camp that I was like " hold on... Halsin why are you so tiny???" Then realised

LMAO i have never had this!!! do you change size during the myrkul battle? that's SO funny if so. gonna change the prompt to be a bit less specific, but will still include a size change! under a cut bc nsfw, minors dni

Astarion

your shadow falls over him. he looks up. and up, and up. "oh... darling. you've... grown."

you apologise and tell him that this is only temporary, but he really doesn't seem to mind it all that much.

sits in your lap and likes to feel very small, curling up like a cat. you can practically hear him purr.

when you go to bed that night, if you're intimate, he'll enjoy straddling you and feeling how wide his legs have to splay around your wide hips.

he falls asleep on top of you, like you're his giant pillow. it makes him feel safe and protected.

he's woken up when you're back to your usual size, slapping at him to move off you - he's crushing you!

Halsin

he feels relieved not to be the tall one for once. it's nice for him to look up at you!

"my, when you're this size, i can appreciate all of you so much more... see magnified what nature has blessed you with..."

if you're comfortable with your size he wildshapes into something small so that he can really enjoy how big you are. little cat halsin nestled in your huge shirt <3

pick him up and carry him to bed. he's thrilled.

when you lay together that night he labours over every lovely inch of you, musing in great detail about how wonderful you are, how he enjoys you feeling so large compared to him...

but the next day he is just as happy to have you back to your normal body. no matter how you look, you are perfect.

Karlach

like Halsin, she is so pleased to be the small one for a while.

keeps wanting to compare the size of her hand to yours. they're so big now! amazing!

can't stop giggling when you reach down to kiss her. likes it when you cup her face.

when you have sex, she's thrilled by how small she feels, how you can take control of her a bit physically.

afterwards she just lays there going. "wow. wow. WOW."

lets you know that she wouldn't mind a repeat performance...

Lae'zel

is confused, but you can see her try and hide a smile.

"an interesting development. is this permanent?" "it shouldn't be." "hmm. then we shall explore what it means later."

before you go to bed, she's pleased to have you slightly stronger in order to help her around the camp. you can hold her weapons and stuff for her while she sharpens them lmao

at night you can tell she's thrilled when she dominates you and you're this size. you're both even more exhausted than usual the next day, and she's just smug.

Dammon

you walk into his forge and start knocking stuff over accidentally

probably bang your head too...

he's so surprised and helps you get your bearings, asking what's happened.

you explain you took this elixir and in order to help him more in the forge... but now you're just causing a ruckus.

he smiles sweetly and brings you down for a kiss, reassuring you there's no problem and it was a sweet idea.

probably gets you to sit to the side and keep him company while he works though, he doesn't want you hurting yourself!

and bonus:

Gale

my man loves to be thrown around a bit. prove me wrong.

eyes light up when you walk in.

does a lot of experiments to test your altered strength. you suggest maybe you'd prefer to explore hypotheticals in the bedroom...

you pick him up and carry him, bridal-style, to the bedroom.

pin him against the wall and suck his cock until he's a whimpering mess...

you need a lot of aftercare for him because he becomes easily overstimulated but keeps asking for more. wears his massive love bites with pride the next day <3

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #gale x tav #gale x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #karlach x tav #karlach x reader #lae'zel x tav #lae'zel x reader #dammon x tav #dammon x reader #dammon bg3 x reader #my writing #request

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: I’ve got nothing to say except for the fact this is entirely inspired by the song

warnings: shrimp gets beat up pretty bad but you singlehandedly take out like 3 guys so xoxo

Holding Out For A Hero

The entire team, save for one, are gathered around Penelope’s monitors, holding their breaths. As the newest member of the team, you had anticipated that in a situation such as this, you’d be having the least severe reaction to the scene before you, but upon seeing Doctor Spencer Reid get thrown against a wall, you are entirely unsurprised by the squeeze you feel in your chest.

“Damn it, Hotch, we’ve gotta do something!” Derek Morgan yells, clasping his hands behind his head but unable to tear his gaze from the screens.

What should have been a simple task of meeting some witnesses regarding a local case has quickly become a hostage situation that none had anticipated.

There are unified gasps as a harsh kick is landed against the young genius’s midsection, and Hotch sighs, knowing that something has to be done, but the team are presently at a loss.

“Any presence recognised as official could get Reid killed.” Hotch reiterates, though it’s a fact none of you have forgotten.

Another kick causes Spencer to curl up in the corner, his form cowering on the monitors, and you decide that’s enough, storming out of Penelope’s office.

“Must be tough on her.” Emily glances sympathetically at the door you left through, the rest of the team nodding in agreement, seemingly accepting that you had to step out because you couldn’t stand to see Spencer get beaten up like that. While that isn’t entirely untrue, there is more of a purpose behind your exit.

Just a month ago, during your first case with this team, a local police officer had decided you were the object of his affections. While you’d dismissed his advances as politely as you could, Spencer couldn’t help overhearing the conversation, and his blood boiled.

“No need to be so stuck-up about it!” The cop huffed at you, and in the time it took for your eyebrows to shoot up, Spencer had arrived at your side.

“Speak to her that way again and I’ll have you removed from this case.” His words were cool, calculated, and enough to send the police officer shuffling away from you.

Looking up at Spencer with a grateful smile, you parted your lips to speak, but he smiled right back at you and interjected.

“I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t need to. All I did was the bare minimum, as a guy.” Spencer excused his chivalry with a bashfulness that you found beyond endearing, and have continued to do.

It seems that now, an opportunity has presented itself for you to perform your equivalent of the bare minimum for him.

Speeding through the office and over to your desk, you retrieve your overnight bag and head for the staff toilets. Digging through it, you find your emergency attire that’s typically reserved for undercover missions; a thin strapped, silky red dress that’s enough to stop traffic, and a pair of killer black stilettos.

Within five minutes, you’ve slammed the door of Penelope’s office open again and dropped your go bag on the ground, attracting the attention of the rest of the team.

“Well damn, mama, I didn’t think this would be the time, but-“ Derek begins, unable to resist a moment to flirt; with no time to spare, you cut him off.

“Button it, Morgan. Text me the location, I’m going to get Reid.” You instruct, not wanting to waste another second.

Penelope’s office is momentarily silent, several jaws falling open in shock. That is, until Derek speaks up again.

“What?! No!” He exclaims, outraged at your proposition.

You sigh. “One plus one is two, you need someone to get inside without raising suspicion - problem?”

Derek scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, actually!”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the only member of the team that’s aware of your applicable qualifications.

“Gideon?” You raise an eyebrow.

With a slow smile, Jason Gideon nods. “…She can do it.”

Derek throws his arms up in the air. “Am I missin’ something here?!”

Hotch is notably silent. Though knowledgeable on the ‘classified’ portion of your resumé, he does not know the details of your work prior to this team, save for your glowing letter of recommendation from your old boss; that, in itself, was enough to land you a place on this team.

You nod, reaching down to grab a small purse from inside your go-bag. “Yep. I’ll catch you up after. See you guys in 30.” Glancing around at the rest of the team one last time, you speed out of the office with a determination to match the loud clicking or your heels.

By the time you reach the parking lot, your phone has dinged with a text from Penelope with the exact location where Spencer is being held by the gang that are currently beating him senseless. Whistling a nearby cab, you slide into the backseat, give the address for the next street over to where you need to be, and apply the finishing touches to your outfit. With expert precision, you coat your lashes with thick layers of mascara, only to rub them, then hold your eyes open long enough to induce tears that cause trails of mascara to run down your cheeks. And with reckless abandon, you tear a slit up the right side of your dress. As the cab pulls up on the next street over to your destination, you step out with a grateful tip and begin your walk.

The closer you get to the only lit up house on the mostly empty street, you ensure your steps are unsteady and work yourself up enough, focussing your thoughts on what Spencer has endured until now to force fresh tears and actual upset to bubble in your chest. Approaching the house, you raise a shaking fist to knock on the door with deliberate weakness. The doorknob twists, and you sniffle. Action.

Standing in the doorway are the very men you’re here to see, and your bottom lip trembles as you give them your biggest doe eyes.

“H-Hello, I’m so sorry to bother you, b-but I was just wondering if I could use your phone? M-My boyfriend broke mine.” You blubber, holding your face in your hands for dramatic effect. Stuttering to feign anxiety and upset, mention of a boyfriend but purposely indicating mistreatment and vulnerability: you are no more than an easy target.

The men share a smirk.

“Oh, of course! You poor thing! C’mon in!” One of them says, ushering you inside with a cheshire grin.

These poor fools really think they’re lucking out with a punching and an upgrade from a sock.

Nodding gratefully, you stumble into their shack of a ‘home’, knowing this is just a temporary hold up for them, and mainly a location to hold Spencer.

“Wh-Who’s that?” You ask shakily, eyes widening with what should be pretend shock, but your surprise at seeing the sorry state of your favorite genius is as genuine as your intentions in being here.

At the sound of your voice, the one eye Spencer has that isn’t black with bruising, winces as it opens, then widens as much as it can to take you in. Are you real, or a vision from heaven? He’s asked himself that everyday since you joined the team, but that question has never felt more relevant than it does in this moment.

“Ignore him.” One of the other men instructs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and dragging you harshly over to a chair at the dining table.

That quick glance in Spencer’s direction was enough to bring him a second wind, a cause to fight to stay conscious. The mascara stains down your cheeks and the tear in your dress - which, on any other occasion, Spencer is sure would send him into cardiac arrest - cause alarm bells to ring in the mind of a genius. Who made you cry? Did someone hurt you? What are you even doing here? The questions in his mind are ordered in importance to Spencer, the blood in his veins that’s fighting to fix the wounds he’s sustained through his beating, burning under his skin at the thought of someone having harmed you in any way, despite his current circumstances.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” One of the men asks, and you pretend that the thought of your completely fictional boyfriend makes you wince.

“He stood me up.” You cry weakly, putting on the performance of your life.

Spencer wonders if his injuries have made him delirious as he now prioritizes whether his heart should have spluttered at your mention of a boyfriend he is certain - because he’s currently scanning through his eidetic memory at the speed of light - you have never referred to having before.

“Oh, now, what kind of man stands up a dime like you?” The man who had invited you in, jeers.

“Thank you.” Sniffling, a small smile reaches your face as all three men stand within range; one at the table with you, one against the wall to your right, the other standing behind your chair. Perfect.

The team crowd around Penelope’s monitors, the anxiety in the room palpable.

“What the hell is she doing?!” Derek yells, frustrated and confused by Gideon’s allowance for your reckless one-woman suicide mission.

“Trust me, if anyone can do this, she can.” Jason attempts to reassure the worries of everyone, a soft smile on his face as he watches you do what you do best: set your scene.

“She’s ballsy, that’s for sure.” Emily comments, undeniably impressed.

The air in the office is thick, the tension only capable of cutting with a knife; there’s a certain irony in that.

One of the men pats your shoulder with force.

“You stay with us, we’ll take care of you.” He laughs darkly, and you smile up at him.

Alright, show’s over.

Standing from your chair, you pretend to stumble over to the front door, before locking it.

“What’re you doing, pretty lady?” The man leaning against the wall asks you with a smirk.

“Actually, boys, I think you’ll find it’s me that’s going to be taking care of you. Or, to put it another way-“ Reaching into your purse, you grab a makeup wipe and quickly remove the mascara from your cheeks, smirking right back at all three men. “-I’ll be taking you out.” Looking to the corner of the room, you smile at Spencer. “Sit tight, handsome.”

He must be dead, he thinks. Doctor Spencer Reid, beaten to death and the best comfort his subconscious can provide him is the illusion of you calling him handsome.

Pulling the slit of your dress just a little higher, you retrieve the blade previously concealed in a particularly scandalous garter you acquired entirely for the aesthetic, and twirl it around your fingers.

“So, any takers? Let’s see, eenie-“ You point your blade at the man leaning against the wall, “-meenie,” You point it to the man who is standing behind the chair you’d sat in, “-minie,” You point it at the man sitting at the table, and as he reaches for something in his pocket, your eyes twinkle with mischief. “-mo!” You chirp, throwing your blade at the exact moment he raises his arm to you, pinning his wrist to the table.

In a fraction of a second, both of the other men lunge for you, and you manage to roll out of their way in the nick of time.

“Awh, c’mon guys, fair’s fair! At least give a girl a chance!” You taunt, kicking your killer heels off and chucking both at the larger man’s head, sending him stumbling backwards into the wall with the impact. One on one, much better.

Sights set on the only other person standing up in this room, you watch as his eyes dart to Spencer, and in an instant you’ve rolled back across the floor to stand in front of the corner that he’s cowered in.

“Don’t you dare.” You threaten quietly, icy stare fixed on the last man standing.

“Oh, but pretty lady, you’ve got nothing left to throw! You’re out of options.” He sneers, taking a step closer to you.

Very presumptuous to suggest you actually needed your props beyond your dramatic flair and desire to get this done as quickly as possible.

But, in the moment, you decide to humor him.

Pretending to cower further into the corner with Spencer at your feet, your eyes widen with feigned fear, the confidence in the idiot’s smirk growing as he takes another step.

“That’s it. We can forget all about this. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?” The man’s voice softens with condescension, and you nod up at him with your doe eyes.

Does he seriously think you’d incapacitate both of his friends and then decide to sleep with him? Men.

Counting the seconds, you wait until his figure looms over with you, and you lean back against the wall. You hold his gaze, doe eyes widening and bottom lip trembling, until the facade drops like a mask. Fury is a woman, and she wears a torn red dress with a smirk, her heels having left imprints on some idiot’s skull.

The last man standing’s smirk drops to a confused frown, but he doesn’t have time to step back before you lift your leg and send your knee into his crotch with as much force as you can. And while he stumbles backwards, you kick him to the floor, then kick his midsection again for good measure.

With him dealt with, you walk back over to your heels and slip them on, but as the man they previously knocked out begins to stir, you issue a well deserved roundhouse kick to send him back to sleep. Strolling over to the man who’s wrist you pinned to the table, you find that he is very clearly in shock and losing a lot of blood, but not enough to be dead just yet; you left the blade in for a reason.

“My team are watching, and they’ve probably called an ambulance by now. Whether they’ll make it in time to save you or not, I don’t care. For your sake, though-“ You pull the blade out of his wrist, tucking it back into your garter and watching the blood gush against the table, leaning close to the man’s ear. “-I wouldn’t bother applying pressure to that, because if you live long enough to serve your sentence and get out, I’ll do much worse than what I’ve been allowed to do here on company time.” And with a malicious smile, you stand back up, then spin on your heel and rush over to Spencer.

Crouching down beside him, you brush his hair out of his eyes with your fingertips, tucking it behind his ears just the way he likes it.

“Hey, pretty boy. Sorry for the wait.” You give him a sweet smile, your tone gentle, far and away from the venom with which you’d been speaking throughout your cleanup operation.

Spencer tries to speak, but immediately starts spluttering and clutching at his bruised abdomen.

“Shh, shh, don’t speak, it’s okay. The team’ll be here soon.” You coo, continuing to stroke his hair behind his ears, though it’s no longer out of place.

“N-No, it’s important.” Spencer utters, voice hoarse and strained.

Your eyebrows furrow as you lean closer to him so that he doesn’t have to try speaking any louder. “What is it?”

Taking a deep, wheezing breath, Spencer manages to find his voice again.

“Think…I know someone…who can fix your dress.”

You blink rapidly, a wide smile spreading on your face as his words set in, before you start laughing heartily.

And Spencer struggles, but he opens his one good eye to gaze upon your smiling features above him, etching every detail to his eidetic memory.

“So, I can assume that you like the dress, then?” You ask rhetorically.

This time, Spencer doesn’t say anything. Instead, you watch in equal amazement and amusement as a smirk curls at the corner of his split lips.

Within a matter of minutes, the rest of the team pull up in government issue vehicles with police cars and ambulances close behind, your targets being tended to and arrested, while Hotch and Derek help carry Spencer out to the ambulance. Due to the severity of his beating, the paramedics advise it’s best to keep him unconscious and medicated for the journey to the hospital. Naturally, you sit at his side, holding his hand the whole way.

And that’s a gesture you continue the moment he’s been checked over, too. You stay at Spencer’s hospital bedside, holding his hand until he regains consciousness, at which time you relay his diagnosis from the doctors: no serious injuries or internal bleeding, just a large amount of bruising that’ll be substantially painful for a while. Spencer is relieved by the news, but mostly relieved by your presence. He’s so simultaneously exhausted, and taken by the way you glow at his bedside, he can hardly say more than a continuous mantra of “Thank you”.

Due to his lack of serious injury, Spencer is cleared to return to work without delay, under the advice of being careful of his bruises when out in the field. In truth, Spencer knows that as long as you’re around, he won’t feel an ounce of the pain that’s supposed to be plaguing him.

The very next night, the team are called back into the office for a case, and the smile on your face when you see Spencer has him questioning once again how you can possibly be real. You seem so much more like a vision from heaven, or of heaven itself.

It’s late and the flight to the location of the case is a long one, so Hotch instructs everyone to board the jet and get some sleep, assuring you all that he’ll wake you with enough time for a briefing before you land. And the ever-calculated Spencer Reid knows exactly how to use this to his advantage. Counting in his head the average time it takes someone to fall asleep, he waits for each and every member of the team fo fall asleep before he rises from his seat on the jet and crosses the cabin to sit beside you, visibly giddy.

“I was thinking about what you said to those guys.” He begins, words rushed because he doesn’t have the patience to greet you right now.

“Which part?” You ask with an amused smile.

“When you said you’d take them out.” Spencer clarifies quickly. “I’ve been thinking about those words a lot, and- well,” He chuckles nervously. This is about to be the cheesiest thing he’s ever said. “-I wondered if you might consider letting me take you out, but in a different way?”

Your expression flashes to one of surprise, the realization hitting you like the sweetest bullet. “Like a date, or a different method of incapacitation?” You ask playfully, accurately predicting the way Spencer’s eyes widen in panic at the thought of the double entendre.

“A date!” He squeaks.

You can’t help giggling, nodding at him. “I’d like that a lot. Thank you for asking, Spencer.”

The relief on his face is palpable. In fact, he’s never felt his face relax quite like it did in that moment. “No, thank you for accepting. Are you, uh, free on Saturday, by any chance? If we don’t get called away on a case?” Spencer enquires, desperately hoping that he isn’t coming across as too eager.

You grin. “I am.”

“Good.” Spencer answers, a shy smile on his face as the reality of this situation sets in.

“Are you going to sleep?” You ask him quietly.

“To be honest, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to sleep at all until Saturday.” Spencer chuckles nervously.

You giggle at that. “Well, it’s probably a good idea to try. Do you mind if I borrow your shoulder?” You question with a teasing smile.

“No! Not at all!” Spencer says without hesitation.

“Thanks, handsome.” You say softly, resting your head on his shoulder from where you sit beside him on the jet, bundling your blanket around yourself.

There it is again, Spencer thinks. Unless this plane crashed in a microsecond and killed everyone onboard, he’s pretty sure that this time, it’s not his subconscious creating a comforting illusion. You really did call him that.

And, in light of such a life-altering revelation, Spencer plucks up courage that he didn’t know he had.

“You’re always welcome, beautiful.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #SoundCloud

[frantic-fiction]

Happy Birthday

(Gif: Alistairs)

Prompt: The gang throwing Spawn Astarion and Redeemed Durge a joint birthday party 😭

Credit to @bauldersgrave69 for letting me use their idea. Hopefully, you like it.

Astarion x F!Reader (Mostly Gender neutral but reader does wear a dress)

Warning: None. No spoilers just durge's memory lost and violent tendencies. This is pretty much pure fluff.

Word Count: 3.1k

It's been almost a year since you found yourself aboard a mindflayer ship, forcibly shoved into an adventure - one with life-changing choices. Choices that left you with a family not bonded through blood and torture, but one of trust, acceptance, and a chance to change something in yourself that you didn't fully comprehend when you woke up in that pod.

And the most important piece of the puzzle is currently walking next to you. As close as appropriate in public, moving away from the waterfront, Astarion would occasionally drop kisses on any exposed skin he could reach. But for the most part, he was content to hold your hand in his, just happy to be with the love of his life.

It was your date night. After the chaos had died down, you and Astarion had established this weekly tradition. Neither of your previous lives before the tadpoles allowed for much personal exploration or relaxation. The dates aimed to help take back both the agencies that had been torn away violently by cruel masters.

It was Astarion's week to choose the activity. He decided to push his boundaries just a bit and go dancing - not the stifling ballroom dances Cazador demanded be performed during various public events. No, Astarion wanted liveliness, drinks, and a wonderful band.

So, he bought a lovely pale yellow sundress from a stall by your apartment and added his personal style, ending with a beautiful garment - swirls and intricate patterns embroidered as accents. Donning himself in a dashing doublet, dark greys, and black accented with a similar shade of yellow.

The blushing mermaid was brilliant, the band jovial with pounding drums, and excellent lute and violin playing. Drinks were shared until heads were fuzzy. It took a bit for Astarion to work up the courage to dance, but he quickly offered his hand. The moment it was offered, your drink was down, and with a flushed face and a smile, you took his hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

The rest of the night was spent spinning and dipping until you were dizzy. You had never really danced, and if you had, that memory was lost and not worth finding. At times, you would stumble into a spin or out of a dip, but Astarion was always there to make sure you stayed on your toes with a firm hold.

When the energy of the night waned down and the band began to play a slower tempo, Astarion didn't hesitate to pull you flush against his body. His coolness was a pleasant contrast to the stuffiness of the mostly crowded tavern.

Astarion bent down to kiss you below your ear, whispering, "I don't think I will ever run out of thank yous."

"For dancing with a handsome man, I can say it was tiring but I'm having fun." The word is still a foreign concept, but one you and Astarion have become incredibly good at together.

"Yes, this night has been the best dancing I've done in years." You card your hand through his curls; his hand trails the curve of your spine. "But my thanks go beyond tonight, with you, my love. I have felt - you see I..."

Words seem not to be able to grasp what Astarion wants to say. So, he simply smiles and captures your lips in a kiss. Not everything needs words to express.

****

"My sweet, I believe we forgot dear Evelyn's oranges."

You had just entered the neighborhood where your house resided. It wasn't anything big; neither you nor Astarion liked the idea of a big space with rooms that would stay empty and cold.  

Thankfully, you came across Miss Evelyn, a sweet elderly gnome who owned a multifamily home. Her son had sadly died when the Absolute took Baldur's Gate. His wife and child went back to her parents, leaving Evelyn with a lot more space than she needed.

Astarion and you rented the upper portion of the home. The rent was cheap and you wish to pay more, and when you tried to explain just how much wealth you could spare, Evelyn shut it down immediately. She said that her price was fair and all she needed to make it for herself.

There was no room to argue after that, so you and Astarion took it upon yourselves to help her in any way she would allow - like getting oranges.

"I'll run out early before she wakes. Eve won't even notice."

"If you try to throw me on the chopping block again, I will not be making any cookies for a month."

"You would never!" You gasped, clutching your chest in dramatics.

"Don't tempt me, darling; I can be very stubborn." He said this, holding the gate to the property for you.

"Star, you know how her disappointed look makes me feel," the gravel crunched under your feet, the porch light to the house breaking through the dark.

"Yes, well, you'll just have to hope she made her bedtime." He kissed your cheek smugly and walked ahead, taking the stairs two at a time.

His shoes hit the wood boards of the porch when you heard, "Oh good evening Evelyn dear, I do have to apologize; my love completely forgot to get you oranges. By the time I realized their mistake, the vendor was already gone for the evening."

Handsome fucking asshole. Hands bunched up the skirt as you followed up the steps. He is going to have quite the time having any post-date fun with the way he's playing.

Making it to his side, Evelyn's in her chair, a basket of walnuts beside her. She didn't say anything for a moment, leaving only the crickets. Grabbing a walnut, she placed it on the table and slammed a hammer you did not see, cracking the shell before popping the flesh into her mouth.

"I figured, you two never get the things I want when it's your date night. Whatever, just get them tomorrow; your visitors gave me these walnuts so I'm not too bothered." The words were jumbled between almost toothless gums and walnut bits. A few pieces flew outwards with trails of spittle.

"Visitors?"

"Yeah, that little ragtag group you got. The bald one gave them to me. Told me something about 'Boo' thinking it would be polite since I let them break in and all."

Astarion and you met eyes, confusion reflecting each other's. Why was Minsc here?

"Did you plan something?" You asked.

"No," Astarion quickly turned to Evelyn, " I hope our little friends haven't been too much of a bother. Have a wonderful evening, my dear. Your oranges will be in your fruit bowl come morning."

He grabbed your hand and made for the stairs to your floor. Evelyn simply grumbled "They better be, pointy," before slamming the hammer down again.

You started to pull Astarion faster up the remaining stairs. But as soon as you reached for the door, Astarion halted you with an arm snaking around your middle. His mouth captured yours in a kiss, fast and heavy before you could even speak.

You melted. It's automatic, instinctual. You sigh carding you finger in his hair tugging on the roots. The orange incident quickly forgotten and the heavy annoyances with it. Not even the question of why your friends have broken into your home during date night mattered. His lips were gone too soon.

"I don't know about you, my sweet, but I believe our little weirdos have been very rude to us." He breathed into your ear before giving it a nibble. You nodded slightly, pulling his face to your neck. The he scrapes his fangs against you throat and you gasped

"I think they should have learned by now that I like to keep you to myself at night. And on our lovely date night, where you have been teasing me all night with this garment."

He pressed your back roughly against the door. The hinges whined against the force. You kiss him again, feeling his leg press between your legs. "And how am I to know that I shouldn't be ravishing you right here against this door."

"OKAY, OKAY. WE GET IT, ARESHOLE. DON'T INTERRUPT DATE NIGHT," Gale yelled.

"Maybe the next time we think about doing something nice for you two shits, I'll remember to bring earplugs," Wyll followed.

Astarion stepped you both back fully on your feet. "Maybe this time they will finally learn." Placing one last soft kiss on you cheek, he fully pulled away and moved to open the door.

You couldn't say what you had expected to see walking into your home. But this was not it.

Bright colors of balloons cluttering the floors, strings of paper tossed haphazardly around your living room. Your dining table is scatered with wrapped gifts and a frosted cake.

Each of your companions stood, all staring at Astarion and you, a mixture of disgust, excitement, and boredom (though that was mainly Lae'zel, who stood brooding in the farthest corner with a purple cone on her head). Oddly, they all had pointy hats tied to their heads. Even little Boo.

Scratch, who with all the excitement of seeing all of his friends back at his home, had begun to use his as a chew toy. Minsc pleaded with him to stop and seemed to be having a three-way conversation between the dog, Boo, and himself.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Karlach screamed as if the words had been burning in her mouth for hours. This had each and every one of your companions repeating the same phrase.

The shocked and confused looks Astarion and you shared must be very evident because Wyll was quick to jump in. “You both shared with us not knowing when your birthday was, so we’ve all decided what better time to celebrate than the start of our journey.”

This had Astarion's hand tightening in yours, his posture stiffening. Your heart hammered against your ribs, tears brimming over, trickling down flushed cheeks.

You don’t deserve this. The little voice echoes, the same voice that chokes you at night when you lay crying in Astarion's arms as he helps you calm from a panic attack. These people. This beautiful, caring family you stumbled upon was too good for such a broken, tainted person like you. To even think about this, planning a party with cake and presents simply to celebrate you and Astarion just living another year.

Him you understand; you had already been silently planning something similar for him for months. But it’s Astarion. The man who saved you, the one who reminds you each day that you are loved and safe and no longer the puppet of a cruel god. Yes, Astarion deserves to be celebrated and showered with gifts and affection. But you? The same person whose hands are stained so red with blood you still can’t comprehend the full extent of your depravity. No, you don’t think so.

"Well," Astarion’s voice cracks, and he takes a shaky breath, clearing his voice. "I guess being the center of attention for the night should make up for postponing my plan to bend my beloved over the cou-"

This snaps you out of your self-deprecation. You clamp your hand over his mouth loudly saying, "Thank you guys; this is… well, this is just perfect."

You rip your hand away when you feel the wet glide of Astarion's tongue and the scratch of a fang. "Seriously," you groan, wiping your hand off on his chest before stepping away and walking up to give out your first of many hugs.

****

"You cheated, you fucking bastard!" Astarion points accusingly over the coffee table, glaring at Gale. "I can sense a spell; you're not as clever as you think, wizard!"

You rub his arms, silently telling him to chill but shooting a glare of your own at the man. "Not to mention Karlach is not a very good actor," you say bluntly, causing the tiefling to scoff in offense. "You know I love you, Kar, but you have never been a good liar. Gale, if you won't play by the rules, I won't be responsible if Star gets violent."

Getting up from the couch, you peck Astarion's cheek and collect the pile of dessert plates. Astarion stands to start his turn of charades, beginning to mime out his word as Gale, Wyll, Karlach, and even Lae'zel tries to guess. Though Lae'zel only seemed to guess various ways to harm an enemy.

Minsc has himself in a deep talk with Boo. The two sat close to the bay window where Halsin and Jaheria had found themselves in a game of chess. By the looks of it, Halsin was winning, and Jahiera was none too happy.

Placing the dishes in the sink, you quickly wash the cake crumbs and frosting off. You carelessly toss each on the drying rack, Astarion always hated when you did dishes always complaining of the many chips you keep putting in the ceramics. 

Once done, you walked up to Shadowheart where she was dividing the small pile of presents into two.

"Thank you," you said softly, catching the half-elf's attention. It had come to light that Shadowheart had been the one to bring the idea up. "This has been more than I ever expected."

"We're family," was all she said. And you guessed it was all that needed to be. Just a simple act of love for two people in a large, slightly dysfunctional family. You move automatically, practically tackling Shadowheart into a hug.

"This means more to Astarion and me than we'll ever be able to express." The two of you don't mention the hoarseness in your voice. And if Shadowheart felt a few tears drop on her collar, she doesn't say.

She simply hugs you back just as tight. Once you break away, Shadowheart calls for everyone to gather for presents.

It's a novel concept to open gifts while everyone stares on, waiting for expressions of happiness and thanks. It's awkward, and both Astarion and yourself share the feeling of being out in the deep end. But it's kind of fun.

You open boxes to find books and painting supplies (a hobby you picked up after you saved that rather stuck-up painter from the Zhentarim last year.) But the best is a medium-sized portrait of the party together, something you've been begging everyone for months to do. It's beautiful, and you are already thinking of the perfect location to hang it up.

Astarion receives new embroidery supplies, a shiny new dagger, and a small box. It's black velvet, and when he opens the hinged lid, a plain-looking copper band sits in the middle of a makeshift pillow.

Never one to hold his tongue, Astarion cheekily says, "Oh how quaint, look at this darling; doesn't it look just like the magic ring the tiefling boy tricked you with."

You shoulder him, and he laughs. "Actually, it's a bit more magical than that little trinket; we went to a lot of trouble for that thing, so hush," Jahiera scolds.

"Oh then please regale us with the story of this mysterious gift," Astarion smirks.

"They call it the Sunwalker's gift. It's a rare magical artifact that protects a person from light sensitivity," Shadowheart says.

It doesn't process for Astarion right away, but your breath instantly catches. You freeze in shock; how in the hells did they find this? You thought it was just a legend.

"Gale got a lead, and long story short, it's real, it's here. Fangs, you can walk in the sun mate." Karlach smiles bouncing on her feet, her flames flickering a bit brighter in her excitement.

"However, it's not perfect. You can still succumb to some effects of your hypersensitivity. But the ring should allow at least a solid 8 hours of sun exposure." Halsin quickly adds.

Astarion doesn't take his eyes off the ring. His pointer finger smooths over the tarnished band. He swallows dryly, blinking back tears as quick as they come. "This… this" he's lost for words, and no one rushes him. They all know. "Thank you, will you excuse me?"

He's gone before anyone can react. There is no judgment; everyone knows strong emotions are not something Astarion can process anywhere but alone or with just you.

"This is amazing. I'm pissed you didn't let me in on this surprise, but from both Astarion and I, thank you all." You motion for a hug and they all pile in. 

Astarion doesn't return, but no one expects him to. The party wraps up quickly after that; everyone says their goodnight and departs into the night. You lock up the house and retreat to the bedroom. He sits by the window, staring out into the silent city. He's shirtless, his pale skin ethereal in the moonlight. The ring dances across his knuckles absentmindedly, his chin in his other hand.

You make your footsteps purposefully loud as you approach the vampire. Your hands snake themselves around him, caressing his smooth skin of the chest. He catches the ring and turns his face to meet your eyes. You push some hair out of his eye. He's been crying.

"Hey handsome," you smiled, kissing his lips. He turns towards you. Pulling you on to his lap and cups you face. There's no rush to the dance of your lips. Just soft brushes and tongue caress. You pull away panting. 

"Gods, I'll never get tired of this."

"Good cause I'm quite smitten with you." You grab his hands, taking the ring from his palm. You slide it onto his left ring finger, the magic tightening the metal to fit perfectly. You press a soft kiss to it sliding off. "Now come; I want to cuddle."

He helps rid you of your dress, slipping on one of his shi in replacement. You both slide under the sheet, Astarion pulls you onto his chest, strong arms enclosing you. Your head is tucked under his chin. He presses a kiss to your hairline whispering I love you.

You play with his hand, taking it off and putting it on each finger, watching it shift to fit each one. It was quiet for a while. Both of you are just soaking in each other. 

"Our family," Astarion says quietly, his chest rumbling under your ear. You drop his hand and look up. He has a look of pure love. "The term has been one that has only caused me pain for 200 years. To think I would find a new one that could contest 200 years of shit is…pleasant. Something I didn't expect to have again"

You smile brightly, grabbing his face and pressing your lips back onto his. "We really lucked out, didn't we. Now how about we get some sleep, and in the morning, we go get Evelyn's oranges together."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just running his hand down your spine, stopping at the swell of your bum and back up again. He kisses you again. "There is nothing I'd like more."

Feedback is welcome and always makes me smile, hate does not! Have a nice day, cheers!

#astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic

[nipuni]

We went to see Phantom Madrid last weekend!! ❤️ Geronimo Rauch was amazing!! I'm going to write my thoughts on the whole performance under a cut for those interested 😊

I am going to be comparing it to the London version for reference since it's the only one I've seen live. I think my first impression was that It was better than I expected it to be! I read opinions about the Trieste production and I was a little worried but I found that I enjoyed a lot of the things I've seen being criticized.

The stage spinning around was awesome and added so much depth to scenes and made transitions very smooth. The backdrops were very nicely done!

As for costumes I think they were pretty good with the exception of Aminta's dress and the Masquerade costumes being kind of underwhelming.

The singing was good overall, although the translated lyrics are weird sometimes. The main songs translate well but some others become very confusing in Spanish, some wording seems forced and some notes are slightly altered to fit the phrases. Raoul is very calm and soft, maybe a little too much at times, Christine is very neutral and simple. Geronimo was amazing tho no notes!

Now the acting! I have opinions 😫 This show was very Christine and Raoul centric to such an extent that it flattened the plot for me 😬 Christine seems scared and disgusted from start to finish so there is no conflict in her character. She is never torn, she recoils from the phantom's touch during Music of the Night, and during Final Lair she sings the "pitiful creature of darkness" lines looking at Raoul the whole time backing away towards the phantom and steeling herself and only turns reluctantly at the last second to kiss Erik. She comes back to return his ring and just leaves it on the organ stool as soon as he turns around because she's scared to get close to him, when he sings "I love you" she shakes her head at him 🥹 like girl please give us something!!

Geronimo's phantom is a delight tho!! He whimpers, crawls, cries, screams, pants, it's great. He's acting his butt off and is the highlight of the show for me.

A thing that I really liked was in the end when the mob comes Erik is curled up in his bed crying and Madame Giry finds him there and tells him to hide under the covers and leads the mob away from him, I thought it was sweet and transitions into LND nicely.

OH also!! I really enjoyed the Phantom swinging on a rope across the stage during the ballet and Buquet's hanging, it's so good!! the flaming chandelier scene is also good!! in Final Lair they actually hang Raoul in the air which was very nice too! (and with his shirt still on) and even the angel wings and flying that I've seen people hating on was honestly so cool. It didn't look as goofy as I expected it to, it's very smooth and the lighting makes it scary, he casts thunder and flies!! the wings are not very visible since the scene is very dark. The light work was super good in general.

Masquerade and Don Juan were a bit of a let down, much simpler but not bad. I think my main issues were about the choices for Christine really 🤔 and I think some scenes needed more movement, especially the roof one (they couldn't move because they are sitting on a ledge)

The show in general feels a bit one note compared to the West End version but it was good!! I'm just nitpicky 😂 also I want Geronimo's autograph!! I love him 😭

Anyway if you want to see/hear more let me know on discord wink wonk 😁

#personal #nips photos #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #it was so crowded!! there was a long line to take a picture with the mask and roses and everyone was looking at you while you did it #that is why I look so uncomfortable lmao I was about to pass out the whole time I can't deal with crowds 😭

[justalonelybitch]

Hiding In Plain Sight

Kazuha x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: pure chaos, reader was in iz*one

Word Count: 2.5k

Buy Me A Coffee :)

As hard as you tried to listen to the words of your leader, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander to the girl beside you, Chaewon's stern voice falling deaf in your ears. Your eyes shone with mirth as you watched Kazuha's focus waver, feeling your stare burning holes into the side of her head. She couldn't help the smile that made its way onto her face upon turning to meet your warm gaze. Her cheeks burned red as you continued to silently stare at her like a love sick fool. She willed herself to turn back to Chaewon with great effort, but not before reaching out to give your hand a brief squeeze.

Your forehead creased in a frown as she pulled her hand back to her lap after a few short seconds. Staring after her hand with a pout, you silently shifted on the couch, shuffling closer to your girlfriend. Your hand crept closer to Kazuha's as Chaewon droned on about the importance of your upcoming performance. The ballerina spared you another glance, eyes softening when they landed on your subtle frown. She wordlessly closed the distance between your hands, grasping your hand firmly in reassurance. She laced your fingers together as a silent promise she wouldn't let go this time.

"Are you guys even listening?!" Chaewon's yell of exasperation pulled the two of you from a world of your own. You both exchanged shy smiles before offering an apologetic expression to your leader. The older merely huffed dismissively, ignoring the giggles of your members as they shared knowing looks. When Chaewon resumed her lecture, the two of you did your best to listen carefully so not to anger your leader. While your gazes never flickered to one another again in fear of a scolding, your hands remained intertwined at your sides.

~~

Attending what the dancer could've sworn was the millionth schedule that week, she allowed a tired sigh to slip past her lips. Her mind wandered far and wide as she willed her eyes not to flutter closed, just a few more hours. Kazuha found her gaze wandering the dressing room in search of you, unable to help the smile from tugging her lips upwards as her eyes landed on their intended target. She watched silently as you happily spoke with your stylist, admiring your stage outfit appreciatively. Her eyes filled with delight when you briefly met her gaze, beaming when your lips curled into a knowing grin.

Sakura eyed her younger member knowingly, lips twitching as the faintest of grins threatened to creep onto her face. She knew how much Kazuha adored you from the very moment she laid her pretty brown eyes upon you. The way the dancer's gaze lingers longer on you than anyone else, an exception to her boredom, her only exception. She would never get bored losing herself in you, in your irises that shone with nothing but affection for her. Tracing your features with her eyes when you weren't looking, admiring each and every detail that was unique to you and you only.

How she would attentively listen to every word that rolled off your tongue, no matter how stupid it may be. When she would unconsciously smile each time a melodious laugh passed your lips. Most of all, the way she always longed to be in your presence, whether it be sitting silently as her leg gently brushed against yours or simply standing by your side during schedule. It eased her mind, she liked knowing she would never have to reach far to find your hand. She liked knowing you were close by.

Sakura's eyes swirled with fondness as she glanced between the two of you. For as long as the eldest had known you, you had always been the reserved girl that preferred watching from the sidelines rather than drawing attention. Listening rather than speaking. But with Kazuha you were an entirely different person. She brought you out of your shell, and Sakura couldn't be more thankful for it. They all got to witness a different side of you, only none of them could seem to figure out why the Japanese girl was the only one that could make it happen. Sakura was content not knowing, she was just happy the two of you had found one another.

~~

You tugged Kazuha's- your cap down to cover your eyes as numerous bright flashes of a camera threatened to blind you. You did your best to wave at fans as you moved through the airport at an ungodly hour of the morning. A grin crept onto lips when the faintest brush of fingertips grazed your arm. No words were exchanged between the two of you as Kazuha linked her arm with yours, head landing on your shoulder as you waited patiently at security. You leaned into her comforting touch, it helped you forget about how tired you truly were.

"Where's your jacket?" Kazuha whispered, concern growing when you shivered in her grasp. "Eunchae was cold," you shrugged, sparing a glance at the youngest who bounced around happily in your oversized hoodie. Kazuha couldn't help but smile at your selflessness, though she also couldn't help but worry when goosebumps rose in the wake of the airport's stupidly cold air conditioning. "You'll keep me warm, right?" You questioned teasingly, smirking when her cheeks flushed red. Glancing around awkwardly, she nodded her head jerkily with false confidence.

Unlinking your arm from hers, your eyes landed on her timid smile as you turned to face her. She raised her brows in silent questioning, but you merely grinned cheekily, eyes dancing with mischief. Her hands were stuffed into her jacket pockets, so you took the opportunity to snake your hands beneath her unzipped jersey, wrapping your arms around her waist securely. She smiled in understanding when you buried your face into the crook of her neck, wrapping her hoodie around you, allowing you to share the warmth. Neither of you paid attention to the increased flashes of cameras at your display, simply basking in one another's presence before you would be inevitably separated for an agonisingly long fight.

~~

Zuha &lt;3: I miss you, come cuddle me

Chaewon's curious gaze flickered to you upon hearing your uncharacteristically loud giggles fill the small hotel room. "Who are you texting??" Chaewon questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion as she stared down at you. "No one," you murmur unconvincingly, the slight quirk of your lips giving you away. The older girl stared at you scrutinizingly, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. She watched as you smiled down at your phone, tapping away happily. "Y/n, I can see you typing." Chaewon muttered, unimpressed by your poor attempt at lying.

Abruptly lifting yourself off the hotel bed opposite Chaewon's, you grabbed your jacket before heading towards the door. "Where are you going?" Your leader questions, attempting to mask her worry with faux frustration. "Zuha and Kkura unnie's room, they're more fun." You poked your tongue out at your leader before slipping out of your shared room. Chaewon pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation as the door clicked shut behind her. You were certainly close to earning the role of her most troublesome child.

~~

Kazuha smiled when she heard the door to her hotel room creak open, placing her phone down when you came tip-toed into sight. She chuckled when you waved at her with a stupid grin, opening her arms expectantly. "Where's Kkura unnie?" You questioned, practically launching yourself into her arms. Kazuha huffed when you landed atop her but smiled nonetheless. "She went out, Yunjin and Eunchae wanted to explore." She explained, and you snorted, imagining your poor eldest member being dragged from place to place by the energetic duo. "You didn't want to join them?" You asked, but Kazuha merely shook her head, smiling down at you.

"I just wanted to spend time with you," the dancer confessed, pulling you impossibly closer in the dimly lit hotel room. "You're such a sap," you teased, ducking your head in hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks. Kazuha only smiled in response, unable to deny your claim. After a beat of silence passed, you glanced up at your girlfriend, melting under her adoring gaze. "But I missed you too," you admitted, recalling the messages she'd sent earlier. Beaming at your admission, Kazuha felt the words rolling off the tip of her tongue before she could stop them.

"I love you," she uttered, brown orbs swirling with sincerity. No matter how many times the words slipped past her lips, butterflies would always swarm to life inside your stomach every time. "I love you too," you whispered into the comfortable silence, snuggling into her arms. "But you've really got to stop making me act like a lunatic in public with your adorable texts because Chaewon unnie is getting suspicious." You huffed, and Kazuha chuckled at your strange request. "Then how will you know I want cuddles?" She asked, flashing you an adorably innocent grin. "Fair point," you conceded, feeling your eyes begin to grow heavy with sleep. Her soft giggles were the last thing you heard before losing yourself to sleep.

~~

You found yourself right back in Kazuha's warm embrace on the dorm's couch the very next week. Only this time the members seemed to be consumed by a world of chaos, one the two of you simply watched from the outskirts. You were perfectly content in her arms, feeling no desire to be anywhere else. "You guys are being boring again!" Eunchae suddenly complained, dragging you into her chaos, willing or not. As much as you loved your youngest member, nothing could move you from the comforting hold of your girlfriend.

"I'm tired," you complained, snuggling further into Kazuha's arms, face buried in her hoodie clad shoulder. "Go bed if you're tired!" Chaewon scolded you without missing a beat, hands planted firmly on her hips. "No, I want to stay here with Zuha." You huffed, feeling the dancer's hold on you tighten in silent agreement. You groaned in annoyance when Chaewon tried to tug at your arm in hopes of convincing you to sleep early for once, but to no avail.

"Hey, I thought I was your favourite!" Yunjin exclaimed loudly, eyes narrowed as you sunk further into your girlfriend's embrace. Plopping down on the couch beside you with a thud, the vocalist poked your cheek repetitively until you spared her so much as a passing glance. Swatting her hand away, you shook your head at her claim, fingers curling into the fabric of your girlfriend's hoodie. "Zuha's warmer," you uttered simply, grinning at the look of betrayal spreading across Yunjin's features.

"Unnie, you told me I was your favourite last week!" Eunchae whined, betrayal of her own creeping onto her face. The youngest's saddened expression had you reluctantly pulling away from Kazuha, rising to your feet and padding towards the disheartened maknae. "Don't be silly, I don't have favourites." You reassured, ruffling Eunchae's hair and flashing her an apologetic smile. "Except Zuha?" Yunjin inquired, squinting at you from the couch. "Except Zuha," you affirmed, the words slipping past your lips before you could stop them. The chaos that followed was certainly worth seeing Kazuha's sheepish smile.

~~

The six of you sat in a circle in the dorm's living room, numerous exclamations both happy and sad bounced from the walls, ones you were almost certain your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow. Who knew Uno could be such a competitive game? You spared a subtle glance in Kazuha's direction, nudging her upon noticing she was left with only one card. Her confused gaze found yours, to which you nodded your head towards her singular card. "Oh, Uno!" Kazuha announced happily, smiling when you clapped encouragingly. You smiled when she sported a cute frown, her eyes drifting between the stack cards and her own, determined to win.

"Y/n unnie! It's your turn," Eunchae complained impatiently, pulling you from your daze. You hummed in acknowledgement, hearing Eunchae giggle when your eyes landed on the stack of cards before you. "Pick up eight!" The youngest cackled evilly, eyes dancing with mischief. Your eyes briefly flickered to your own draw two card, but one wary glance in Kazuha's direction and you knew what you had to do. Eunchae grinned widely when you began picking up the required eight cards from the deck, and it was all worth it when you heard your girlfriend's exclamation of victory. Cheering happily, you leaned forward and pressed a celebratory kiss to her cheek despite your own calculated misfortune.

Your leader's jaw dropped at the display, eyes wide as she stared at the two of you in disbelief. Never in all the years Chaewon had known you had you ever let anyone kiss your cheek, let alone kiss someone else's. "I want a kiss too!" Yunjin requested, tapping her cheek expectantly. You shook your head in refusal, poking your tongue out at the vocalist childishly. "How come Zuha gets a kiss and I don't?" The older girl complained, still insistently taping her cheek. "Because Zuha's my girlfriend," you blurted out casually.

Chaewon's brain promptly short-circuited.

Not only had you, her child, had what she was convinced was your first kiss, but now you had a girlfriend too? "Chaewon unnie?" You questioned hesitantly, nothing was ever good when she was quiet, shouting would be closer to normal, preferred even. Her narrowed eyes flickered between you and Kazuha for what felt like aeons before she finally broke her silence. "My baby is growing up!" She cried, pulling you into a surprisingly tight hug. You fought off the grin threatening to break out on your features at her approval. No one's opinion meant more to you than hers.

"How come you never told me you had a crush?" Chaewon asked, offended that you hadn't confided in her. Sakura cut in when you began to stumble over your words, embarrassment clear as day on your face. "It was kinda obvious, Chaewon-ah." The eldest stated plainly, earning a grateful smile from you. "We never really hid it from you guys," you mumbled, sheepishly scratching the back of your neck. The leader only shushed you in response, patting your head affectionately. "I can't believe my baby had her first kiss!" She squealed, pulling you into yet another bone crushing hug.

"First?" You didn't get a chance to finish your sentence before Yunjin's hand was slapped over your mouth. Her eyes were comically wide as she shook head rapidly, pointing towards Chaewon in warning. The leader's eyes were now narrowed in a glare, staring down at you. "That's right, first kiss!" You swallowed thickly, shrinking under her stern gaze. Chaewon hummed approvingly, sending Kazuha one last warning glare before smiling brightly at the two of you.

"Unnie, is that why you always sleep in Zuha's bed-" Eunchae was hurriedly dragged away by Yunjin before she could complete her innocent question, but enough had been said, or perhaps too much. "Y/n, what was Eunchae talking about? I'm only going to ask you once." Reluctantly turning to meet your demise, you winced upon meeting Chaewon's harsh glare, wondering how it was possible for someone so tiny to be so incredibly intimidating. "I'm waiting." Your leader uttered impatiently.

You were so dead.

writing this much fluff back to back is so out of character for me, someone pls come exorcise these happy demons from me

#le sserafim x reader #kazuha x reader #nakamura kazuha x reader #le sserafim kazuha x reader #lesserafim x reader #kazuha imagines #le sserafim imagines #lesserafim imagines

[ceesimz]

Booked - Mapi x Ingrid

TW: Mentions of blood, Ingrid gets injured during a game but it's not too bad. Feliç Sant Jordi🫶🏼

For the most part, María Pilar León Cebrián thought of herself as a calm and level-headed person in almost all situations. She was only human, there were indeed a few cases where that wasn't the case and even if her friends would never deem her as a calm person overall, she was sure that when the time came she was the model person in emergency situations.

What those one off cases were, you're wondering?

Ingrid. Syrstad. Engen.

All sensibility and composure flew far out the window as soon as Ingrid was involved, and that's where she found herself today.

It was an easy game, some may call it a battering, and Mapi had been subbed out just before the 70 minute mark so that she had somewhat of a rest before the weekend for a Champion's League game. Her performance was good, if not a little boring and easy since the other team had barely stepped a foot in Barça's penalty box, and she had a big, cheesy smile on her face when she saw that Ingrid was being subbed on just as she was coming off. And if Ingrid was annoyed about the two light pats on her ass from Mapi later before the Norwegian sprinted onto the pitch, she would simply say it was just for luck.

However, luck didn't seem to be on Ingrid's side for her quick involvement in the game. All of a sudden, it seemed the scoreline of the match had gotten to the opposing team's heads and before any of the Barça girls could realise, the physicality of the game increased tenfold. There was brutal tackle after tackle, shirt tugs, arm pulls, and risky one-on-ones for headers that saw Ona land horrifyingly on her neck and the player at fault to receive only a yellow for what everyone knew was a malicious and purposeful act. Ona was fine, she stood up after taking a few minutes to come back to herself, before moving to defend another corner as Alexia and a few other players were shouting at the referee who had made countless questionable decisions already.

"We're lucky nobody has been stretchered off yet." Mapi exclaimed to Frido from her seat on the bench, arms tightly crossed across her chest over her puffer coat.

"It's not a surprise though, right." Frido sighed disapprovingly, referring to the situation everyone was frustrated at in terms of the Liga F referees.

"Es tonterías." The Spaniard grumbled, slumping back in her chair as the whistle blew for the corner to be taken.

Her sulk didn't last long, it couldn't, because perhaps the most frightful occurrence of her life carried out right in front of her eyes. The ball curled right into the box where Ingrid was marking the targeted player at the front post, and the Norwegian wasn't able get a clean jump as the player to her side stomped on her foot aggressively. But before she could fall to the ground as a result of the pain of studs being dug into the space just below her ankle, there was an agonising strike to her face.

An elbow smashed against the outward corner of her eye hard, a sharp and sudden pain that immediately caused her to feel sick to the pit of her stomach, overriding any pain in her foot. She fell to her knees with a loud, excruciating scream, one hand immediately coming up to her face as the other clutches desperately at the goalpost beside her that she slumped against. When her hand came into contact with her face, she let out another scream, this one somewhat quieter, as the pain increased due to a nasty gash that stretched up into her eyebrow which stung impossibly more when she touched it. That's when she realised her hand was covered in blood and the sight of it caused her body to weaken as she paled, absolutely not a fan of blood. Her hands fell out in front of her as she kneeled over, side still pressed against the post, and she tipped her head forward to prevent anymore from dripping down her face.

The opposition's counter attack had to be stopped by Jana before the referee eventually blew their whistle. Jana had been subbed on for Mapi earlier and was now fuelled with rage, leading to her delivering an outstanding slide tackle to the player rushing towards her on the halfway line. Everyone will give her her kudos after the game for such a perfect tackle, it really didn't get much better than that, but for now the focus was, rightfully so, on Ingrid.

Alexia, Salma, and a few others had called for the game to be stopped as they rushed over to Ingrid the second she went down, absolutely enraged that a player had suffered not only a possible concussion which should have stopped the game straight away, but also had a gushing cut which was even more reason, if at all needed, for the whistle to be blown. Lucy and Irene were already arguing with the referee as words were ushered to Ingrid, but they were lost on her due to the intense ringing in her ears.

Mapi watched every second of it from the bench. When she saw the initial stamp on Ingrid, she stood from her chair and clutched at the back of the one in front of her as she voiced her outrage at such a blatant act. However, that was nothing compared to the reaction she had when she saw the hit to her girlfriend's face, followed by the stream of red. It was almost the exact same scenario she had gone through a while back, but her fear was about a million times more intense this time around since it was Ingrid. Her Ingrid.

When Mapi went through the same injury, she had been relatively calm when it had happened, and it had stayed that way as the medics attended to her before she was able to go back out onto the pitch. This time? Her emotions ripped through her and swiftly took control of her mind.

Even as Frido tried to hold her back, Mapi raced out of the seating area and onto the sidelines. An endless amount of colourful expletives left her mouth, cussing out the referee and the other team and just about anyone she could think to blame for causing such an avoidable situation. Jona and a few of the other Barcelona staff tried to call her back and stop her from acting out, but it was futile. She needed an outlet for her worries and if disguising her anxiety with anger was the first alternative her panicked mind thought of, she was fine with that. Some rational part of her mind had prevented her from rushing onto the pitch towards Ingrid, but that's about as far as she got.

The match officials came over to her and gave her multiple warnings about her actions but that didn't stop her, nothing would stop her until she knew Ingrid was alright. By now, the medics had made it to Ingrid and were cleaning up her, but Mapi had tunnel vision that she only snapped out of when the referee showed her a yellow card. Not the player that had brutally stamped on Ingrid, not the player that elbowed her, neither of them, the referee chose Mapi instead. The Spaniard could only laugh, and she went to let loose on the figure in front of her again but was stopped by Alexia, who had noticed the situation playing out after she had stepped away from Ingrid.

"Hey! Hey! Step down, stop, Mapi!" Alexia pushed her back off the pitch by her shoulders, the shorter woman not even realising she had gone onto it. "I know you are upset but you will get suspended if you carry on. Cálmate, María, ahora."

"That puta, she h-"

"Oi! I know, I saw it. Ingrid is fine though, just a bit freaked out." Alexia squeezes her shoulders before letting go and pointing over to the Norwegian, who was now sat up with her head being held still by one of the medics whilst the other gently dabs at the wound on her face. "See? She is okay. You can speak to her when she comes off, but for now calm down. This is not something to get suspended over."

"She's okay?" Mapi mumbles quietly to her friend after a moment, a concerned frown on her face as her eyes don't drift from Ingrid's spot on the pitch.

"Yes. You can find out for yourself in a minute." Alexia tells her, hands on her hips as she stands beside her. Mapi nods solemnly, all the fight gone from her, watching on silently.

Ingrid stands up and is met with an applause as she does so, one of the medics carefully lifting the blood-soaked jersey over her head before guiding her to the sidelines. With one eye, she spots an antsy looking María waiting for her and it makes her smile, feeling significantly better than she did a few minutes ago. When she arrives in front of Mapi, the Spaniard hastily unzips her coat and takes it off before draping it over Ingrid's bare shoulders.

"Thank you." Ingrid mumbles to her, grateful for the act as she was a bit cold now that she wasn't running around anymore. Mapi can't get a word out so just nods vigorously at her, something that makes her laugh a little and it's a noise that fills Mapi with relief.

The staff urge Ingrid to sit down in a chair at the back of the dugout and the Norwegian pats the chair beside her for Mapi to sit in, to which the Spaniard does immediately.

"Are you okay?" Mapi asks her breathlessly. Before Ingrid can answer, the cut is shown to her when the medic moves the gauze away from her eyebrow. "Ouch!"

"Why are you saying that?" Ingrid laughs, wincing when the gash is cleaned again with an alcohol wipe.

"Sorry, princesa, it freaked me out." Mapi answers with another grimace, though she looks at the cut quite inquisitively for someone so 'freaked' out.

"What a kind thing to say to your injured girlfriend." Keira said from one of the chairs in front of her, Ingrid giggling as Mapi looked a bit sheepish.

"Eso es un poco repugnante." Vicky comments from beside Keira.

"Oi! That's my girlfriend, nena." Mapi scolds her before turning back to Ingrid and scoffing when the dark-haired woman rolls her eyes.

"Hush, María. You don't need to play the hero." Everyone around falls suspiciously silent around her when Ingrid says that. She squints her eyes at her friends as the medics begin to bandage her up, eyes flicking between each person. "What is going on?"

"Nada." Mapi shrugged, sending what she thought was a sneaky warning glance to her but Ingrid caught it of course. The Norwegian sends a stern look of her own to her teammates, a silent plea for them to tell her whatever she wasn't clued in on.

"Mapi got booked for running her mouth off to the ref when you went down." Keira reveals, Mapi gasping harshly and slapping her shoulder.

"Oi, chivato!" She shouts, before turning back to Ingrid with a grimaced smile. "Sorry?"

"María, why?" Ingrid fixes her with another stern look, but unfortunately for Mapi, ever the childish one, she can't really take her seriously when she's got a comical amount of bandages wrapped around her head, looking like Mr Bump from the Mr Men books. "That was silly, you didn't need to do that. You could have got suspended!"

"I was scared!" Mapi argues, shoulders stuck in a shrug as she held her hands up blamelessly. "I feel better now, now that you're..."

"I'm what?" Ingrid pushes her, knowing that the words about to come out of Mapi's mouth weren't anything along the lines of 'now that you're okay' or 'now that I'm with you'.

"Now that you look really cute with that big bandage." Mapi comments with a mischievous grin, hearing some of the girls and staff around her laugh as Ingrid makes an outraged noise.

"María! I didn't tease you when you had the same bandage!" Ingrid exclaims, nudging her arm.

"I'm kidding, princesa, I'm joking!" Mapi defends herself, placing a hand on her bare knee and the other on her forearm. "Sorry elskling, I am."

Ingrid can't stay annoyed at the older woman for too long, not when she looks equally as adorable when she's begging for forgiveness, not when she's calling her pet names in Norwegian, and not when Ingrid knows she's just trying to lighten the situation and make her feel better. It's why she loves her, after all.

"You are annoying." Ingrid murmurs lovingly, shrugging the coat off and handing it back to Mapi when she gets given a fresh jersey. "Am I good to go back on?"

The medics have cleared her for now and Jona gives her the nod, so she stands but is quickly pulled back by Mapi who grabs her hand.

"Be careful, princesa." Mapi tells her in a soft, pleading voice. Ingrid nods and smiles when Mapi kisses the back of her hand before giving her a shy wave and walking to the sidelines.

Thankfully, the rest of the game goes off without a hitch, no more nasty fouls and not quite so much fury running through the other team. At the end of the game, Mapi joins her team in going through all the post-match procedures like the huddle and handshakes and fan interactions, before following Ingrid to the physio room like a lost puppy.

Before they start to take the bandage off though, Mapi grabs her phone from her coat pocket and makes sure to take plenty of photos of Ingrid with her head wrapped up, something that the Norwegian complains about before swiping the phone out of her hand and sliding it underneath her back where she lay on one of the beds. Mapi pouts dramatically before moving to stand at the top of the bed so that she's out of the way of the medical team.

They go through the process of taking off the bandage before examining it more closely now that they're not stuck in a mid-game rush, deciding that it can be solved with some stitches. Surprisingly, it's not Ingrid whose face pales at that, it's Mapi. But she just gives Ingrid a weak smile when the Norwegian looks up at her, squeezing the taller woman's shoulder comfortingly. Then, Mapi further grimaces when one of the doctors gives Ingrid a tiny injection in her eyebrow to numb the area before they start stitching. The Spaniard has her eyes screwed shut at that point, hand still placed reasurringly on her girlfriend's shoulder, until the doctor says he's done.

He gives the couple space for a while to allow the injection to work, at which point Alexia decides to walk over from where she'd been watching the whole thing, mainly her long-time friend.

"Stitches, no?" Alexia says, wandering over still in her kit except she'd swapped her boots for a pair of sliders.

"Yeah, stitches." Ingrid frowns, not quite a fan of the idea of it.

"You scared?" Alexia wonders, quickly shooting a smug, knowing grin at Mapi.

"Mhm. Mapi wouldn't stop gagging when she was getting her stitches." Ingrid and Alexia share a laugh as Mapi pulls a face at them both.

"That's because Mapi is a gallina. You should have seen her face when they injected your eyebrow, I saw the whole thing." Alexia teases as she looks back at Mapi whose face was now quite red, Ingrid giggling and also gazing up at her embarrassed girlfriend.

"No es justo, Ale." Mapi murmurs, glaring at both women.

"Cheer up, cobarde." Alexia lightly pats Mapi's cheek twice before the doctor comes back in.

"Ingrid, try to raise your eyebrow for me." All three people in the room standing over Ingrid watch amusedly as she tries so very hard to do as she was asked, but to no avail. "Perfect. Let's get started."

Alexia moves to grab a chair and sits on it backwards with her arms crossed over the top edge of it, smirking at the slight fear present in Mapi's eyes. The pair of them stay silent as they watch the doctor stitch up her eyebrow, and when he gets to the last few, Alexia grasps Mapi's hand that was gripping the edge of the bed so firmly her hands hurt.

"Come on, Mapi, you're doing so well, amiga. Nearly done, you're doing so well." Alexia reasurres her friend dramatically, Ingrid bursting out into laughter at the ridiculousness of it. Mapi grunts in frustration and slaps Alexia's hand away, lightly shoving her out of the chair and taking her seat.

The doctor quickly does a once over of his work before asking Ingrid a few questions where he decides she's all done for the night. With a quick thanks, he nods and smiles at the three, then leaves them to it.

"We will have matching scars, princesa." Mapi grins childishly at the thought, Alexia and Ingrid both rolling their eyes.

"Buena, I will leave you both. Make sure to look after her, yes Ingrid? She's a delicate little mariposa." Alexia pouts at Mapi like she's the injured one, pinching her cheek like a baby.

"Vete al diablo." Mapi slaps her thigh once more, then watches as Alexia squeezes Ingrid's hand quickly before bidding them both goodbye and leaving the room.

Mapi turns back to Ingrid who is already looking over at her, heads both at the same height now that Mapi was sat down, and Ingrid had a humoured but adorable look on her face.

"Not you too." Mapi grumbled.

"I did not know you were so squeamish, María. You can't even look at a tiny injection?" Ingrid grins at her, moving to sit up and swing her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet grazing Mapi's shins.

"I'm not so perfect after all, princesa, sorry I kept that a secret from you for so long." And just like that, her teasing nature was back.

"Ha ha, Mapi. Very funny." Ingrid rolls her eyes, now in a little bit of pain due to the dark bruising beginning to come out.

Mapi smiles a toothy grin up at her, leaning forward to rest her arms on Ingrid's thighs and rest her chin atop them. Ingrid huffs a breath of laughter and rests back on one hand, the other moving to tuck some of Mapi's hair behind her ear.

"How do you feel?" Mapi wonders, one of her fingers pushing Ingrid's shorts up ever so slightly so that she can stroke her thumb along the soft, tanned skin that's there.

"Tired. I have a bit of a headache." In Ingrid's terms, a bit of a headache meant quite an uncomfortable headache, that Mapi had learnt in the time they'd been together.

"Well, you do not have a concussion which is good. Good for me because then I don't have to tape my mouth shut like last time." They both laugh at the reminder, Mapi simply gazing up at Ingrid. "We will get you some medicine for your head and I will drive home. Are you showering before we go?"

"Mm, no. Can we have a bath at home?" Ingrid asks shyly, and Mapi swears she feels her heart double, triple in size at the sound of her voice.

"If you'd like. Anything for min kjære. Mi princesa."

Sure, maybe Mapi wasn't always a calm and collected woman, but who wouldn't panic when someone like Ingrid was in the face of danger? María Pilar León Cebrián would, that's for sure. She'd happily get booked every game she played if it was for defending Ingrid, even if it Alexia or Jona wouldn't exactly be too happy with that. Because when the sun is staring at you with such a beautiful face, it's hard not to get blinded by it.

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