#so expect some more drunk post in the immediate future | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mint-yooxgi · 2 years

Text

{2} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Yeosang & Jongho this chapter)

Words: 9,536

Warnings: Mental Illness: talks of depression, suicide and suicidal thoughts. OC gets angry a lot. A mug gets thrown at someone’s head. Slut shaming, but not done by any of the guys. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Surprise bitches!!! Guess who’s back, back again!!! Early update for you all since I wanted to post it and I like where I ended it. Definitely expect more parts coming out, I have a lot planned for this, especially with little interactions between each of the guys and the OC in the future. Hehehe, I hope you enjoy!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! I hope you look forward to the rest of whatever this series has to offer~

Main Story - Part Three

The first few days after that one fateful evening, you were a mess. Your mind was all over the place, yet at other times, completely silent. Any attempt to wrap your head around the situation you currently found yourself in resulted in either tears of hopelessness, of frustration, or you screaming your lungs out for them to let you go.

Then, came the silence. The deadly calm as the weight of the situation finally sunk in.

It happened only once, and the thought had only crossed your mind for a brief second, but it was enough to have all eight of them appearing in your room immediately. Worry was clear on all of their faces, but not only that, panic was as well. The thought of losing you, after finally having you with them after all this time, after all of their meticulous planning, had a fear unlike any other washing over them.

You had yelled at them then, screamed at them with a burning fire in your eyes as they crowded you. They needed to let you breathe. The constant checking up on you, asking if you were going to be okay was really grating on your nerves.

At least you knew they cared. At least what they told you, about only wanting what’s best for you, about wanting to love and cherish you all seemed to be true.

There was no doubt about it, not when San would bring you your favourite meals almost every day just to make sure you had eaten something. The first few times were a bit annoying, seeing as how he wouldn’t leave you alone until you had at least a few bites of food, but at least he knew you were eating.

Similarly, Mingi would always make sure you had a fresh jug of water in your room. Every day, he would make sure you drank at least two full glasses to keep yourself hydrated, making you whatever other drinks you wanted when you wanted them. Unless you were planning to get yourself drunk. Then he wouldn’t exactly comply with your wishes.

Jongho would offer to read to you to take your mind off of things, but you’ve still yet to accept his offer. He would pout, but place whatever book he brought with him on your nightstand, at least giving you something to do to take your mind off of things for a while. An escape, if only briefly, that would give you some semblance of normalcy after being thrown into a world unlike any other.

Yunho and Wooyoung would always attempt to cheer you up in any and every way they knew how. Their antics, unfortunately for you, would sometimes work, unable to stop yourself from cracking a small smile at their banter back and forth, or some stupid joke they would tell you in attempts to make you laugh.

Yeosang was probably the most respectful out of giving you the privacy you so desperately craved, except when you would start thinking about when you needed or wanted something. Then he would be the first one to appear with said item held in his hands, bringing you ice cream more often than not in the middle of the night when you were truly feeling sorry for yourself and the situation you found yourself in. He always lingered for a bit, silently hoping you would ask him to stay and comfort you, but you never did. Honestly, it was probably for the best, anyways. They all were probably the last people you really wanted to see at this point in time.

Still, you refused to so much as even look at Seonghwa or Hongjoong. Each time they passed by your room to check up on you, you would pointedly ignore them, curling in on yourself until they would sigh deeply and finally leave you alone.

Two weeks later, and you decide that you’ve had enough. Finally, it’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourself, and take whatever control you can back of your own life. No more wasting your days alone, in the dark, with only self-pity to keep yourself company. If they truly intend to put their money where their mouths are, then you’re going to test that every chance you get. After all, if they are ready and willing to do anything and everything for you to prove to you how much they truly love and care for you, how much they want - need - you in their lives, then you’re going to make them prove themselves to you.

Perhaps you hold more power in this situation than you originally thought.

Letting out a sigh, you allow your mind to go blank, humming a small tune to yourself as you toss the covers off of your legs. First things first, you really need a bath. Perhaps some self-love and personal care will end up going a long way.

Sinking into the warmth of the frothing bubbles, you hum. Again, the calming scent of lilac and honey drifts through your nostrils, the water serving to relax your tense muscles and soothe your mind. You figure you’re going to need all the rest you can get in the next twenty or so minutes as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to do.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later and you’ve finished washing up, dried yourself off, and changed into a fresh pair of clothes. Briefly, you shoot a tense smile at yourself in the mirror, mentally preparing yourself for what you’re sure is going to be a shitstorm as soon as you step outside of your room.

Turning towards the door, you take a few cautious steps forward. Taking a deep breath, you turn the handle, exiting these four walls that you have familiarized yourself with over the past two weeks. Finally, after hiding yourself away for so long, wallowing in your own thoughts, you step outside the room, crossing the threshold into the hallway and feeling as if you’re stepping into a new life. Which, in reality, you are.

As soon as your foot enters the hallway, both Yeosang and Jongho are in front of you, Wooyoung following close behind. The three of them watch you carefully, worried that you might try to do something rash, like attempting to sprint past them and run for the exit again.

You tried it. Once. The first night when everything happened. They watched you sprint right past them, still wearing that gorgeous gown, and practically fling yourself out of the front doors. Only, as soon as you left through one door, it’s like you were entering back through the other.

A looping entrance. A simple spell, or rather, curse in your mind. Every time you attempted to run out of the front door, you found yourself sprinting back through the entrance, a frustrated look on your face as a feeling of hopelessness washed over you.

That was the final snap to your sanity which landed you in such a state of limbo for the past two weeks. You’re just glad you managed to pull yourself out of it.

When you meet their gaze, you make no sign of acknowledgement. They cannot hear any thoughts of you wanting to escape running through your head for the moment. The only thought they can hear, is a constant repeating of you wanting some coffee.

“Where-“ Jongho takes a step forwards before halting right in his tracks as you raise a hand to stop him.

“No.” Your pointer finger is raised as if to say ‘hold on a moment’, making sure to keep a safe distance away from all of them as you look into each of their eyes. “Just follow.”

As soon as you turn to start walking down the hallway, Mingi appears before you, a steaming cup of coffee held in his hands. Wordlessly, he hands it to you, and you meet his gaze for only a moment.

A curt nod is all he receives as you take the mug from his hands, sipping on the warm liquid. He swallows. At least it’s better than nothing.

What’s going on? Hongjoong’s voice echoes through all of their heads, a tinge of worry to his words.

We don’t know, but at least she’s out of her room. Yeosang replies, following silently behind you as you begin to lead them down the hallway.

She’s out of her room? San’s voice is full of excited disbelief, and they can hear the clanging of a pan falling onto the ground coming from the direction of the kitchen before he’s appearing right next to Wooyoung just as they breach the lobby.

Yunho is the next to appear, having been walking down the opposite hallway at the time, monitoring your thoughts as soon as this commotion started. Her mind is blank.

Should we be worried? Jongho’s fingers twitch, itching to pull you into his arms and ask you what’s wrong. A thought he knows is echoing through all of their minds this very second.

The last time her mind was blank, she stabbed Hongjoong with a knife. Seonghwa reminds them, appearing in the lobby in the next second, a swatch of fabric still clutched in his hands.

She also tried jumping off of her balcony. So, let’s not forget that, either. Wooyoung says, worry lacing his tone.

I don’t think I could forget that even if I tried. Mingi shivers, recalling the panic he felt seizing his entire body when he walked in for your daily glass of water consumption to see you with one leg already hitched up on the ledge of your balcony. He’s just lucky he caught you in time before you could hurt yourself. Not that you would have gotten very far, anyways.

Reaching the main desk, you turn back around to face them, leaning back on the counter with the mug held in your hands. As soon as you raise your head, Hongjoong appears before you. Though, this time, instead of averting your gaze like he’s become so used to these past two weeks, you meet his eyes, and the intensity that he sees shining in your own has a pleasant shiver running down his spine.

The eight men all stand around you in a semi-circle, giving you enough space so that you do not feel crowded by them. Starting from your left, Jongho stands, followed by Yeosang, San, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Wooyoung, and then Mingi.

A moment of silence settles over all of them as they stare at you, waiting patiently for you to speak. Some - San, Wooyoung, Jongho, and Mingi - even find themselves holding their breaths in anticipation. Not that any of them particularly need to breathe…

“We need to talk.” Your first words to all eight of them in weeks, and they can only blink at you in shock. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Your words seem to snap them out of whatever daze that they’re in.

“You know we can’t let you go.” It’s Yunho who says it, and they watch as you turn your gaze to him.

Your eyes flash, a fire igniting behind your irises as you take a deep breath in.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I know.” You watch as they all visibly flinch at your words, but you continue anyways. “For five minutes, I would like to not be reminded of my own helplessness right now. Thank you very much.”

This time, they grimace, having the audacity to look somewhat ashamed of themselves. At least, San, Jongho, and Mingi do.

“Look,” you sigh, bringing your one hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself. I’m tired of feeling like I’m trapped here, and that I have nothing to do. More than all of that, I’m fucking tired of letting myself fall back into old habits. Bad habits. I do not need to go back to feeling exactly as I did during the darkest part of my life.”

They can all hear the way your breath hitches, voice straining with the emotion of your words.

“We didn’t know-“

“Of course you didn’t! You don’t know anything about me!” You cut Mingi off, your anger rolling off of you in waves as you glare at them. The mug of coffee is clutched so tightly in your hand that you’re surprised it doesn’t break. “Do you even know how I felt at the lowest point of my life?”

Even though the question is rhetorical, you can sense that they want to respond. You can just tell that, no, they do not know how you felt because they weren’t there. However, you bet the very air you breathe that they’re dying to figure it out. Probably about to probe your mind for those memories. Memories that are painted with the darkest parts of your soul; moments in which you felt the most empty, the least in control of your life.

“I know you all want to know, but it doesn’t work like that.” You say, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t get to shift through my memories whenever you damn well please. None of you deserve that privilege. None of you deserve to know me, especially not like that.”

“We just want to understand,” San reasons, a pleading look in his eyes.

“You want to understand?” You throw his words back at him with a voice of disbelief. “Fine.” You huff out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but here’s a little glimpse into the second worst night of my life.”

It happens so suddenly, that all of them are inhaling sharply as images fill their heads. In an instant, each are overcome by the exact same emotions you felt - grief, anger, disappointment, loneliness - that their senses get overwhelmed. So much so, that Jongho, Wooyoung, and Yunho have to steady themselves on their feet as your memory washes over them.

And that wasn’t even your worst night.

Just as quickly as it started, the memory gets cuts off, all eight of their gazes fixating on you in a moment. You can just feel the way they’re looking at you right now, and you hate it. Especially when Yeosang, San, and Hongjoong all take a cautious step towards you, each wanting to comfort you in their own way.

“I didn’t do this for pity, and don’t any of you dare feel any gratitude for what I just showed you. You know nothing.” You resist the urge to slam the mug down on the front desk, opting to take a few deep breaths and gently place it on top of the counter instead. You turn back to face them with another deep sigh. “Look, if this is going to work, there are some things I need from you all. Do you understand?”

A light begins to shine behind their eyes, heartbeats increasing as hope floods through their veins. Even though you basically just told them not to, they all cannot help but to feel that you sharing that memory with them meant something. No matter how insignificant, you trusted them for a brief moment, and they sure as hell will not let it go to waste, nor will they ever forget this.

Is she saying what I think she’s saying right now? Wooyoung’s eager voice echoes through their minds.

“This doesn’t mean I’ve accepted this,” you motion around the general vicinity with your hand, narrowing your eyes slightly at the eight men before you, “or any of you. I simply have some conditions of my own so I don’t end up like that again.”

Mingi’s, San’s, Yunho’s, and Wooyoung’s shoulders all drop, while the other four do their best to look unaffected by your words. Still, it doesn’t mean they won’t try. It doesn’t mean that you haven’t just given them all hope.

“Anything,” Seonghwa breathes, clinging onto that piece of fabric in his hands for dear life.

Your one eyebrow twitches upwards, meeting gazes with him briefly, as you cross your arms in front of your chest. Leaning further back onto the counter, you nod to yourself.

“I want my phone back.”

You can practically see the protests building on their lips, so you cut them off before they get a chance to speak.

“Listen,” you begin, “you’ve said it yourselves: I’m in your domain. I don’t even know if there’s service here, and who the fuck would believe me if I told them about the situation I’m in. I’m pretty sure I’ve already lost my job for up and disappearing out of the blue, and I’m sure my family is probably worried sick about me. Let me contact them to tell them I’m okay, so they at least get closure for however long I’m going to be stuck here for. I don’t want my parents thinking I’m dead.”

“That’s all you want your phone for?” Yeosang asks, slight disbelief coating his words.

“Of course not.” You huff out a laugh. “I need some source of serotonin. I want my phone so I can do all the things I usually do on it. Minus a few things, of course. I need some sense of normalcy back in my life.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Yunho speaks once more, crossing his own arms in front of his chest.

“That’s rich, considering I should be asking you that.” You match his tone. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you all can hear whatever I’m about to do through my thoughts, anyways. There is a severe lack of privacy there, but put it this way. How do you expect me to trust you if you can’t trust me? It’ll have to be an effort on all of our parts to make this work.”

There’s a hint of worry in your tone, the slightest bit of fear hinted at in the way your shoulders tense ever so slightly as you look at them. Even without your thoughts, they can see the uncertainty radiating off of you towards them. Truly, it pains them to no end.

“You know we would never hurt you,” Mingi says, his voice soft as it cuts through the tension suddenly filling the lobby.

“We promised that we would protect you,” Hongjoong adds, just as tenderly as he watches you with a gentle gaze.

Your eyes flash, “can you protect me from yourselves?”

Immediately, they all straighten, save for Seonghwa who takes a small step backwards as they all stare at you with wide eyes.

“We just told you that we would never hurt you.” Yeosang frowns.

“That’s not what I meant,” you shake your head. “There are many ways one can be hurt rather than just physical pain.” A thought flashes through your mind that has them all recoiling as if you’ve just mentally burned them. “Do you understand why I’ve been so terrified these past few weeks? I know nothing about who you are, or what you’re capable of. I bet you’ve only shown me the bare minimum of what each of you can do with these powers of yours. How do I know you’re all not just waiting for the prime opportunity to take advantage of me? How do I know I can trust you?”

“You think we would force ourselves on you?” Jongho’s voice comes out small, echoing the hurt and worry each of his brothers are feeling right this very moment.

Even though you say nothing, your gaze says it all. The uncertainty, the fear they can all see hiding within your eyes has their hearts feeling as if they are being suffocated. Never do they want you to think that they would do such a thing to you. Never do they want to have you look at them with such terror in your gaze again.

“Is this part of the reason why you’ve been hiding in your room this whole time?” Seonghwa voices, a hint of sadness tinging his words.

“We would never do such a thing.” Hongjoong states, eyes pleading for you to look at him, to see the sincerity shining in his gaze - in all of their gazes - but you refuse, averting your gaze to your feet. “Especially not to you.”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” Your lips tighten into a thin line as you give him a terse smile. “But if you ever break that promise, if any of you go back on your word,” you take the time to meet each of their eyes, squaring your shoulders as you do so to let them know how serious you are in this very moment, “I will never forgive you.”

None of them have to look into your mind to know the deadly truth that lingers in your words. The statement of fact that you have just uttered settles into their very core, echoing through their minds as they continue to stare at you, watching your every movement carefully as you take another shaky breath in.

Then, it’s as if a switch has flipped inside of you as you mentally tell yourself to calm down once more. You need to at least attempt to start trusting them, and they’ve given you no reason to think otherwise. Yet.

“So,” you raise a brow, “my phone.”

Immediately, Hongjoong makes your phone appear, holding it in his hand. Just as he goes to hand it back to you, he pulls it away and out of your reach. You frown.

“You can have your phone back on one condition.” He says.

“What?” You ask him expectantly.

“Change your lockscreen.”

You simply look at him, incredulously. Your mouth parts slightly in shock as a mental image of what you remember to be your lockscreen flashes in your mind. Like hell are you going to change your favourite photo of your favourite male idol who managed to help you through the darkest part of your life in his own way, even if he doesn’t know it. Of course, you do not fail to miss the way that all eight men tense around you, the jealousy clear on all of their faces.

You huff out a breath. “Do you really think you’re in any position to be telling me what I can and can’t do with my own belongings?”

“Then I guess you don’t want your phone back that badly, do you?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice as he quirks a brow, his eyes shining with that tint of jealousy as he holds your phone just out of your reach.

“I could go back to completely ignoring your existence, if that’s what you want.” You deadpan, eyes narrowing as you watch him visibly stiffen at your words.

Only Seonghwa truly knows exactly what that feels like right alongside Hongjoong, so he offers the younger a comforting hand placed on his shoulder. Neither of them want to experience that again. They would rather spend twenty years in the arctic, buried beneath the snow than have you go back to pretending that they do not exist.

Though, Hongjoong cannot deny the sense of pleasure he experiences at knowing you can essentially go toe to toe with his remarks. Your wit truly is like no other. He loves that about you, he always has.

Wordlessly, he hands you your phone, and the relieved smile that paints your face makes it feel as if the whole room has just brightened. Truly, there is nothing like seeing you happy, and they will do anything and everything they can to please you, starting with this.

Tucking your dead phone into your back pocket for safe keeping, you lean back onto the counter, resting your palms against it for support.

“I also want my laptop back.” You say. “Same terms and conditions apply. Just let me have access to wifi again.”

This time, it’s Wooyoung who makes your laptop appear, holding it delicately in his hands as he passes it to you. Your lips quirk ever so slightly as you hug the piece of technology to your chest, mind already reeling with everything you need to catch up on.

“Okay,” you nod, unable to keep the relieved smile from tugging at your lips. “Okay. This is good.”

A small silence settles over all of you as they allow you to collect your thoughts. A tenseness that they didn’t realize they had all been holding in their bodies leaves them as they see you relax, even if only just the slightest. Faintly, grins tug at their lips.

Progress. They’re making progress.

“If I’m going to be living with you from now on,” you begin, “then I need to get some things from my apartment.”

“Whatever you need, we can grab for you.” Jongho says almost immediately after you finish talking.

“No,” you retort, shifting your laptop to your left arm and cradling it like you would a baby. “I need to grab some things from my own apartment. I don’t care if you come with me, but I need to get my clothes.”

“Again, just tell us what you need and we’ll get it for you,” Mingi repeats the youngest’s words from only a moment ago.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head. “There is no way I am letting eight men pick and choose my own clothing for me, let alone my underwear.”

You fail to see the way Wooyoung’s lips twitch upwards in nervousness as the sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears. Immediately, your attention is on the man standing just to Hongjoong’s left, now holding two torn strips of cloth in his hands.

“See what I mean,” you gesture to Seonghwa who stands there, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he clutches onto the fabric held in his hands for dear life. “Keep it in your pants, Handsy.”

Seonghwa’s scowl only deepens when he hears Wooyoung laugh, his eyes flashing as he looks towards his younger brother. “That’s rich, coming from the one who already stole a pair.”

A silence so deadly settles around the lobby as you stiffen, your breath hitching in your throat as Seonghwa’s words register in your ears. Slowly, almost robotically, you turn your head to the right, staring directly at Wooyoung with a tense smile on your face as you blink. “What?”

“So, clearly, neither of you are going with her to get her clothes,” Yunho sighs, shaking his head.

“Hang on,” you practically slam your laptop onto the desk behind you before circling your hands around each other in front of your body in a rewind motion, “can we just backtrack here for a second.” You turn once more to look at Wooyoung. “What did you do to my panties?”

Wooyoung sucks on the inside of his cheek, his eyes looking everywhere but at you for the time being, “I don’t think you want to know.”

An image of your ruined panties flits through all of their minds as Wooyoung recalls the very last activity he remembers doing with them. Almost immediately, the seven of them groan, Yunho smacking the younger upside the head as Wooyoung chuckles.

Again, you smile tensely, your eyes blank as you watch Wooyoung rub at the back of his head right where Yunho has just smacked him. Honestly, it’s freaking them out how you appear so calm, tilting your head slightly as your eyes close and your mind goes blank, that forced smile still tugging at your lips.

Before any of them can react, you grab your empty coffee mug from the desk and fling it at Wooyoung’s head. Luckily, he manages to dodge in time, the sound of ceramic shattering against the floor behind him breaking the tense silence.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t take things that don’t belong to you!” You shout. “Especially if they’re mine!”

“Do you want them back?” He offers, holding his hands upwards as a sign of defence against your rage.

“No! I most certainly do not want them back after whatever the hell you did to them!” You fume, an image of burning whatever pair of underwear he stole flitting through your mind. “This is what I mean when I say I want privacy. I don’t want to have to worry about any of my other things going missing because of you guys.”

“And they won’t.” Hongjoong promises, shooting a pointed look at Wooyoung who just narrows his eyes in response at his leader. He knows they all would have done the exact same thing as he did if given the chance. Hell, Seonghwa even told him to ‘save some for the rest of us’, if he recalls correctly.

“I sure as hell hope not.” You retort, another sigh falling from your lips.

“Some of us will take you to get your things, soon,” Mingi voices, cutting the tension in the air.

“Good,” you nod. “I’d appreciate it.”

Turning slightly, you grab your laptop from the desk and tuck it under your arm once more. You turn back to face them.

“I can take you after you put your laptop back in your room and plug your phone in to charge,” Yunho offers, yet again reading your mind.

You shoot him a look. “I am not going anywhere with you until you learn to stop doing that.”

“Then who-“

“I’ll go with them,” you cut San off with a motion of your hand, pointing at both Jongho and Yeosang using two of your fingers. “They can take me.”

Jongho stands there, momentarily stunned as all six of his remaining brothers turn to look at both him and Yeosang. The elder of the two is just as shocked as the youngest is, though he’s simply better at hiding it. Though, Yeosang cannot help the smug grin that tugs on his lips as he sees you turn away, his brothers glaring at him with jealousy clear in their eyes.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you say without so much as sparing a glance over your shoulder. “Then we can go.”

True to your word, it only takes you two minutes to make your way back to the lobby. Though, now that you take a closer look, it appears more as a grandiose foyer than a hotel lobby. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder just how extravagant they made this place. Perhaps you’ll have to go exploring when you get back.

“Ready when you are,” Yeosang smiles at you, waiting off to the side with Jongho standing right beside him.

A simple nod of your head is all he receives in response, noticing how the other six stand off to the side. You nearly let out a huff at the way both Yunho and San stand with their arms crossed in front of their chests. Wooyoung, Mingi, and Seonghwa all wear slight pouts on their faces, though at least the eldest is better at hiding it that the others. Still, there is no mistaking the classic downturn of his lips. The only one who remains an anomaly to you is Hongjoong.

There he stands, eyes transfixed on you as his hands are shoved into his pockets. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he almost looks unbothered. Only, you know that that isn’t the case. It’s moments like this where you wish you could read people’s minds just so that you could know what he’s thinking. Hongjoong smirks.

“Okay,” you say, turning back to the two men beside you. “Let’s go.”

You manage to take a few steps towards the front doors before you notice that they aren’t following you. You quirk a brow, seeing Jongho’s shoulders shaking in laughter.

“What are you doing?” Yeosang asks, having not moved a single inch.

“Heading to my car. What does it look like I’m doing?” You shoot him an incredulous look.

“Oh, no, we’re not taking a car.” Jongho says, closing the distance between the two of you in a few strides. “Hold on tight.”

“Wha-“ before you can even protest, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and transporting the two of you to your apartment.

As soon as your living room comes into view, you’re stumbling out of his arms. Your head spins as you see Yeosang appear from thin air right before your very eyes. Blinking a few times, your one hand comes up to cradle the side of your head, nausea building in your chest.

“Fucking hell, Jongho, you can’t just do that to her for the first time,” Yeosang is immediately in front of you, helping to guide you into sitting down on your sofa. “She’s never jumped before.”

Concern is written all over Jongho’s face as he comes to kneel before you. Though, only Yeosang can hear how smug the youngest is right now. Of course he just had to be the first one to wrap you in his arms and transport you here. It’s not like Yeosang wanted to have that privilege, or anything.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asks softly as you notice Yeosang dart off into your kitchen, appearing not even thirty seconds later with a glass of water held in his hand.

“Yeah,” you brush him off, accepting the glass with a small nod in thanks before taking a sip. “Just a warning would be nice, next time.”

“I did tell you to hold on tight,” Jongho chuckles, receiving a smack upside the head from Yeosang. “Ow.”

“Do you want to freak her out again?” Yeosang reprimands, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head.

“Relax,” you shoot Yeosang a look. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.”

Both males simply quirk their brows at you in response, Jongho getting back to his feet in the next moment.

“How did you even know where my apartment was, anyways?” You stare at them expectantly, the worst already flitting through your mind as you take another sip of water.

“I don’t think you’ll believe us when we say this is our first time stepping foot in your apartment.” Yeosang replies, casually making himself at home and sitting in the recliner closest to you on the couch.

Your eyebrows raise, placing your glass onto the side table. “Stepping foot in my apartment? What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Jongho begins with a giddy smile, sitting down on the sofa beside you and casually throwing an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch, “we’ve never actually physically been here before.”

“How exactly does that work?” You stand, turning to face both men as you cross your arms in front of your chest. You do not fail to notice the way Jongho pouts as you do so, missing the fact that he just technically had his arm wrapped around your back, even if only for a brief moment.

“When you first summoned us, we could only appear near you through glass objects.” Yeosang explains.

“Summoned you?” Your head tilts, disbelief clear on your features. “When, and how the hell did I summon you?”

“October twenty-fourth.” Jongho recalls, smiling fondly as if the memory is the most pleasant one he has ever experienced in his life.

At your confused look, Yeosang speaks once more.

“You and that one friend of yours, Reina, decided to ‘read from a book of spells’ if I recall correctly.” Yeosang adds air quotes around that specific phrase, an amused quirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“No, it was Reina who read from the book,” you frown. “Why the fuck did you decide to haunt me?”

“You’re the one who caught out attention first,” Jongho admits with a shrug. “You weren’t panicking, and you were skeptical about the whole thing. Well, until Hongjoong and Seonghwa started moving shit around in the room you guys were in.”

You think this is the first time you’ve ever heard Jongho swear, and to say it catches you off guard would be an understatement.

“Yeah, don’t let his little innocent act fool you,” Yeosang chuckles. “He may be the youngest, but he swears worse than a sailor.”

“Hey!” Jongho protests, throwing one of your couch pillows at Yeosang who easily catches it with one hand while making a face at the younger.

You cannot help yourself. A chuckle escapes you. One which you immediately regret when both males are whipping their heads over to look at you, their gazes locking on your figure as soft smiles adorn their features. You clear your throat.

“That still doesn’t explain much,” you mutter, averting your gaze almost shyly. A fact which has both of their chests swelling with warmth.

It’s been so long since they’ve had a decent interaction with you, that they’re both going to savour this for as long as they can.

“You were the one that stepped up to protect your friend,” Yeosang continues. “You were the one who took charge and disposed of the mirror you guys used for the summoning.”

“Yeah, and?” You cross your arms.

“And we liked that about you.” Jongho replies, leaning further back into your couch with a smile still visible on his lips. “We’ve all been hooked ever since.”

“Getting rid of the mirror didn’t actually get rid of any of you, did it?” You sigh, shaking your head slightly.

“Nope,” both men reply at the same time.

“Great,” you exhale a long breath. “Well, I suppose this is my life now.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Yeosang jokes, immediately regretting his decision to attempt to tease you when your eyes flash, a frown painting your features.

“I’ll go pack now,” your voice is bitter, a tenseness to your shoulders that wasn’t there a moment ago when you turn your back to them and begin to retreat to your bedroom.

As soon as you’re out of earshot, Jongho is throwing the other couch pillow at Yeosang’s head.

“Way to go, asshole.” Jongho hisses. “And we were finally making progress again, too.”

“Oh, don’t you dare blame all of this on me.” Yeosang rolls his eyes. “You’re the one that got all handsy first.”

“No, our eldest did that,” Jongho retorts, his words rumbling with the hints of a growl.

A scowl pulls onto Yeosang’s face as he leans back in his seat, both men now reeling in the bitterness that they felt - that they continue to feel - at the fact that Seonghwa of all people got to touch you first.

What they each wouldn’t give to have been in that position. To have you beneath their touch, to hold you in their arms, has always been one of their biggest fantasies. If only they could make them all into a reality. They would do anything to please you, and they hope that one day you’ll let them prove it.

Thirty minutes later and you’re appearing from down the hall, lugging two full suitcases with you. Immediately, both males are on their feet, each taking a bag from your hands.

“I have more, hang on,” you say, moving to turn around. However, before you can so much as face your hallway again, you see your suitcases disappear from their hands, vanishing in thin air. “What the fuck.”

“Our teleporting works on all things, both organic and inorganic.” Yeosang explains, casually, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you reply, a hint of wonder in your tone which makes them both smile faintly. Then, you blink, as if realizing something. “Wait, if you guys can do that, then can-“

“Wait!”

“Again, what the fuck!” Your eyes go wide as you open the door to your spare bedroom where you keep all of your bookshelves to find them completely bare. Your stomach drops as panic washes through you. Have you been robbed? No, you don’t think so. It wouldn’t make sense with all of your valuables still here. “Where are all of my things?”

Of course, you had more than just books on your shelves. Photos, little trinkets, and even some extra folded blankets were held in this room, not to mention all the volumes of manga and albums you have been collecting over the years. All of them, vanished without a trace.

“One of you start explaining.” You turn to look at the two of them who stand wide-eyed in the doorway, and you just know they had something to do with this. “Now!”

“Remember that library Hongjoong told you about?” Jongho answers, a nervous lilt to his voice.

“You’re telling me, that he came to my apartment, alone, and brought all my belongings from within this room with him back to your domain?” You ask, a deadly look shining in your eyes.

“He wasn’t alone,” Yeosang replies. “Seonghwa went with him.”

Yeosang shouldn’t have said that. Yeosang really should not have said that.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Angry doesn’t even begin to describe you as you run a hand over your face, feeling your body begin to heat as white hot fury courses through your veins. “When?”

“The day after you finally came to us.” Jongho decides that there’s no use in lying to you anymore. You were bound to find out soon, anyways.

“So, that thing about only being able to appear near me in glass objects was complete bullshit, wasn’t it?” You narrow your eyes at them.

If either one of them so much as damaged anything, or so much as got a spec of dirt, or hell, even a fingerprint on your collection, there will be hell to pay.

“No!” Jongho immediately raises his hands in front of himself in defence. “That was all true, we swear!”

“There needed to be a physical connection between us before we could transport ourselves anywhere that you’ve been that we haven’t,” Yeosang tells you, attempting to be a voice of reason for you during this time. “Your friend may have summoned us, but you didn’t. So, even if we wanted to appear around you in the physical world, we couldn’t. Only metaphysically until we established that connection.”

“Well, this is just making me feel loads better,” you huff, sitting on the edge of the guest bed while rubbing your hands over your face. “I-“

A knock sounds from your door, interrupting your train of thought.

Immediately, both males are turning around with a scowl on their faces as they practically glare holes into your front door. Neither particularly enjoy the loud thoughts radiating from your much too friendly neighbour who has just decided to pay you an unexpected visit.

“We’ll talk about this later,” you say, going to move past them as you hear another knock - this one a little more eager than the first - sound at your door. However, before you so much as undo the lock, you turn to face them once more, quirking a brow in the process.

Do you mind grabbing my other bags? They’re in my room.

Both males can only stand there and blink, momentarily stunned by the fact that you’ve just willingly spoken to them using your thoughts. Ecstatic doesn’t even begin to describe how they’re feeling, forgetting for a brief moment about the male behind your front door as pleased growls build in their throats, threatening to escape them at any second.

Without another thought, they hastily head to your room, practically shoving each other out of the way in order to be the first one to cross the threshold into your own private space. A space in which you’ve just practically invited them into for the first time, completely unaware of the meaning behind your request.

As soon as you see them disappear down the hallway, you’re breathing a sigh of relief. Turning back around to face the front, you flick the locks, swinging the door open in the next second. The sight that greets you brings a smile to your lips.

“Calum, hey!” You don’t think you’ve experienced this sense of happiness, this sense of normalcy in weeks. “How’ve you been?”

“Hey!” He greets back with a smile, pulling you in for a hug which you gladly accept. “I’m doing great! How have you been? I haven’t seen you around lately, is everything okay?”

You pull away from him, holding him at arms length as your smile shifts from genuine to semi-strained. “Yeah, I’ve been okay. Just busy lately. Life has really been kicking my ass.”

You share a small laugh, worry tugging at the back of your mind. You feel as if there’s a storm brewing behind you, hidden just around the corner of your hallway. One that you cannot control.

“If something’s the matter, you can tell me,” he says, genuine concern reflected on his features as his hands move to hold your own in his. Gently, he strokes his thumb over your skin, squeezing your fingers reassuringly. “I’m here for you.” Then, as if he’s finally decided to speak his mind, “I’ve missed you.”

A soft call of your name draws your attention to the side as you feel an arm snake around your waist from behind. Sparing a glance to the side, you see Jongho standing beside you, glaring directly at the man standing across from you. “Who’s this?”

“This,” you not-so-subtly elbow Jongho in the ribs, getting him to drop his hold on you in the process as you shoot him a pointed look, “is my neighbour, Calum.”

“What’s taking you two so long?” Yeosang appears beside you, his hand finding purchase on your lower back and causing you to stiffen immediately at his touch. He meets Calum’s gaze, a look of disinterest painting his features as he scrutinizes every inch of the mortal before him.

At least Jongho and Yeosang can agree on this. This human has nothing on them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Calum blinks, a bit taken aback. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit-“

“Watch your mouth.” It’s Jongho who cuts you off, successfully making you jump at the harshness of his tone, words directed at the man before you.

You can feel Yeosang’s fingers tense on your back, and you just know something bad is about to happen.

“Anyways,” you say quickly, already reaching to close your front door. “Great seeing you again!”

Without another word, you slam the door in his face, turning to look at the two demons practically fuming now as you rest your back on the now closed door. One look into their eyes and you see nothing but darkness swirling within.

“What the fuck was that about?” You frown, a hint of fear trailing down your spine.

“We’re leaving.” Yeosang reaches for you, but you recoil back, eyes wide as you press yourself against the door.

“Please, don’t be scared of us.” Jongho says, his tone suddenly soft as he finally reverts his eyes back to their normal colour.

“You would not believe the thoughts projecting themselves out of that thing’s head.” Yeosang adds with a huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“That person has a name,” you mirror his stance, frown still tugging at your features.

“Not for long,” Yeosang mumbles, and you swear your eyes nearly bug out of your head.

“Excuse me?” You look at him, incredulously.

“He doesn’t deserve to live with the things he was thinking about you.” Jongho breathes, eyes seeing past you and appearing as if his gaze is following Calum’s figure as it retreats back down the hallway and into his own apartment.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Well, they did tell you that they would do anything for you. Honestly, you shouldn’t be surprised that killing isn’t beneath them.

Yeosang and Jongho share a brief look. Of course they would kill for you. What type of demonic lovers would they be if they didn’t?

“Go on, then,” you motion for them to continue with your head. “What was he thinking?”

It’s Yeosang who meets your gaze first. “He didn’t actually care about how you were doing. The only thing on his mind was how he could get into your pants. Apparently, in his mind, you’ve been nothing but a ‘teasing bitch always leading him on’.”

“Huh, you think you know a guy.” You scoff, shrugging in the next moment. “Not any different than the majority of men I know. Honestly, I’ve been called worse.”

“He called you a-“ Jongho pauses, his entire body shaking with white hot fury as his eyes flash black once more, “a ‘slut’. A ‘fucking whore’ as soon as he saw us appear beside you.”

“Again, not the first time a man has called me those things after I’ve rejected them,” you say, nonchalantly.

You want to question whether or not they’re lying to you, but their reactions are far too genuine to simply be an act. You’re starting to understand what it means for them to lose control, especially when you are concerned.

“Who?” Yeosang immediately takes a step forward, causing you to push yourself further back into the door until he’s correcting his mistake, making the both of them take a few steps backwards to give you some space.

“You think I keep a list of all the people who have wronged me?” You laugh dryly, a roll to your eyes. “Yeah, Samantha pushed me off of the swing set when we were five and I scraped my knee. Jaehyun broke my heart last year and he didn’t even care about it.”

They both scowl, thoughts overcome with the need to protect you in any and every way they know how. These people have wronged you, and they no longer deserve to live for defiling you in such ways.

You sigh, not believing the words that are about to come out of your mouth. “Take me back.”

They blink at you, attempting to put a leash on their rage for the time being.

“Take me back,” you repeat, pushing yourself off of the door to stand in an upright position as your eyes close. “I’ve gotten everything that I came for.”

Just as Yeosang goes to reach for you, your eyes are flinging opened.

“Wait!” You’ve just remembered something.

Immediately, you brush past them and reenter your bedroom. A moment later and you reappear, three large stuffed animals clutched in your arms.

“I can’t believe I almost forgot these guys,” you shake your head, noticing the way the two of them wear looks of amusement on their faces. You narrow your eyes. “Not a word.”

Jongho raises his hands in a motion of surrender, while Yeosang simply quirks a brow.

“I sleep better when I’m holding onto something,” you admit, a heat rising to your cheeks. “The pillow isn’t quite cutting it anymore.”

Little do you know of the way your words effect them. Both would gladly let you cling to them whenever and wherever you wanted, especially if it meant you slept better through the night. Hell, they know they would rest better holding you in their arms for as long as you’d let them. Really, you need only ask.

“Alright,” your voice manages to pull them out of their thoughts. “Let’s go.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling. One that settles into your bones and fills your lungs as you take what are probably your final breaths in this apartment for the rest of your life. The harshness of reality slaps you in the face as your emotions begin to overwhelm you, resisting the urge to cry as you realize that you don’t want to go back. You don’t want to leave the home you so delicately created for yourself the past few years. You don’t want to abandon who you were, or what you did.

Only, before you can so much as utter a final goodbye, Yeosang is placing his hand onto the small of your back once more. In an instant, your room at the hotel greets you, and you find yourself blinking away tears as you throw your stuffed animals on the newly made bed. It looks as if someone cleaned your room while you were gone, your freshly packed bags sitting off to the side.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asks, voice soft as he takes a step towards you.

“No, I am not okay.” You hiss, turning around and sitting on the edge of the bed.

However, before either of them can say anything else, San, who had been walking past your room at hearing your thoughts returning within the vicinity, storms inside at seeing you in tears. Cautiously, he kneels in front of you, worry clear on his features as he spares a glance at his brothers out of the corner of his eyes. Cupping your face in his hands, he manages to wipe one of your tears away before you’re shrugging him off.

San stands, turning to face the others in the room. “What the fuck did you two do?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Yeosang narrows his eyes at the aforementioned male who is currently glaring at both him and Jongho.

“If this is about that bastard-“ Jongho begins, before you cut him off.

“I couldn’t give less than two fucks about him right now,” you snap, and you swear both Jongho’s and Yeosang’s chests rumble with pleased growls, whereas San just looks confused, his brow furrowing in response. “I really didn’t think I had to spell this one out for you.”

No, you really don’t. Your emotions lingering throughout your thoughts tell them enough, and all they can do is frown. If they could, they would take all of your pain away, replacing that longing, that sadness within you in a heartbeat. However, they cannot. The best they can do is offer you any sort of comfort that they can. Whether you choose to accept it or not is another story.

San turns his attention back to the other two males, his voice low. “What happened?”

Both Jongho and Yeosang share a look between themselves before they’re sharing their memories with their brothers. All of them.

And you let him live? Seonghwa snarls through their minds, and none of them have to see him to know the pure and utter fury that is shining in his eyes right now.

Anyone care to take a trip? Yunho hums, and they all know a maniacal grin is stretching over his lips in this moment. I think we owe the little worm a visit.

Already ahead of you, Wooyoung replies, a malicious glint in his eyes as he catches his own gaze in the mirror.

Skin him alive for me, would you? Mingi voices, already deciding that he’ll stay behind to make sure you don’t do anything rash. Besides, you thought about wanting to explore your new home earlier, and he’ll be damned if he isn’t at least one of the ones to show you around.

I’d prefer if you burnt him to a crisp, honestly. San adds, watching you carefully as you stand from your seated position on the bed and walk past the three of them into the bathroom. He’s also determined to stay back and watch over you, even if he so badly wants to unleash the seventh layer of hell upon the pathetic excuse of a human that so much as thought he could have any type of chance with you.

If anyone gets first dibs on how we torture the mortal, it’s us. Yeosang states, a cold fury held within his eyes.

Yeah, Jongho huffs, you guys had no idea how hard it was not to tear him apart limb from limb right then and there.

Then why didn’t you? Wooyoung snaps, anger clouding his mind.

Believe me, we wanted to. Yeosang sighs, both him and Jongho vanishing from the room as they meet the others at the front.

We just rather preferred not to have our beloved terrified of us for the moment. We’re pretty sure we’ve already freaked her out enough for one lifetime. Jongho purses his lips, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the five of them converge.

Looking around, their brows furrow. Someone is missing. Someone who has been very silent throughout this whole ordeal. Someone who is usually the first one to act when something like this happens.

Immediately, the five of them are transporting to your apartment. Opening the front door, they make the short trek down the hallway to Calum’s apartment, already feeling the wrath radiating outwards in waves. Carefully, they push the door open, eyes bleeding black as smirks tug at their features.

There, in the middle of the living room, stands Hongjoong. A blade rests in his hand, dripping with fresh blood as he glares at the man pinned to the wall before him. A man who lets out a muffled scream, struggling against the daggers piercing his skin and holding him in place off of the ground as he sees the five men enter the room, their eyes as dark as night and screaming for vengeance.

Hongjoong turns to look at them with his eyes already pitch black and screaming for blood. “Took you long enough.”

1K notes · View notes

fermentedfanfics · 1 year

Text

a little wine and charcoal.

hello welcome to my first writing that wasn’t a rewrite in a while. i hope you guys enjoy this ?? i randomly thought of this idea at like three in the morning and wanted to write it so bad– so forgive me if this is a little all over the place or written badly because i finished writing this at like six am and wanted to post it immediately. i might make a sequel to this, i kinda wanna write some smut for them. please know that this fic is explicit and for 18+ audiences only, minors dni.

summary: you enjoy taking figure drawing classes at your local college a few times throughout the year– this month you take up figure drawing again and find you’ve caught the model’s eye. (model!loki x artist!f!reader)

warnings: (possible smut for future sequel) fem!reader, make out sesh, reader is a little drunk, more than a little she’s a lightweight like me, light praise kink, kind of dry humping, orgasm denial, slight dom/sub dynamic (reader calls loki sir.) i’ll add more if i think of anything. word count: 3.2k

You are keenly aware of a pair of eyes on you, and you’re almost afraid to lift your gaze off the newsprint paper in front of you.

For a moment you wonder if you’re the only person who feels uncomfortable, but when you drag your gaze across the room you find everyone hard at work– focused on properly taking in the form of the man in front of you. Was he really a man though?

His ivory skin is chiseled like a marbled statue, and his thick, pitch-black hair was pulled back tucked behind his ears at the start of the class but has loosened and fallen into his face now. It’s given him a disheveled look and you’re rattled by how attractive he is. You’ve barely drawn anything, but you’re glad he’s not fully nude. Well– he is, but the way he’s posed has completely covered himself. You aren’t sure how you’d hold up if you were able to see him completely.

These figure drawing classes were supposed to be a source of relief for you. Twenty-five dollars and three hours of drawing live figures in silence with a couple of cups of wine was such a steal, and you’d truly enjoyed the last few times you’ve been– but the recent model has stolen that comfort from you.

At first you didn’t want to be conceded, clearly he was not staring at you directly. But the entirety of this month, each time you’d come and sit in that stuffy little classroom and painfully tried to draw the most beautiful being you’ve ever laid your eyes on, you could always feel him staring. It’s intensified by the wine you sip on throughout the class, your skin humming with the warmth of the alcohol and hot just from his mossy shaded eyes watching your every move.

Your hands delicately slip around the epicure of the glass next to you, it’s red and stinks of cheap wine but you drink it anyways to break the edge. Finally taking your eyes from the paper in front if you to the model, you swallow thickly when your eyes meet. You didn’t mean to look directly at his face, but curiosity got the best of you. Gripping the piece of charcoal in your hand, you begin to sketch.

You avert your stare from his face and to his body, and your mind wanders as your hand moves. Does he like your gaze? Observing every curve and rocky edge to his sculpted form– does it turn him on as much as it does you? You’d probably notice if it did. Each sip of the wine has your mind cloudy, and fills you with a kind of confidence you know isn’t good for you. Sneaking a peek to his face, you instantly regret it. His stare is intense, and the shine on his lips indicate he’s wet them with his tongue sometime between you taking your time studying every part of him and the last time you looked him in the eyes. You shiver.

The class wraps up faster than you expected. The conductor of the class brings the model a robe, and when he leaves the room bursts with conversation. “My god he was sexy, I couldn’t focus the entire time!” One of the women next to you boasts. Each class has a set of people who've never tried it before, or you’re simply just not lucky enough to get paired with anyone you’ve drawn with before. You feel seasoned among those around you, but you would be lying if you said the model hadn’t affected you in the same way.

You swallow the rest of the wine from your last glass, setting it down on the nearby tray it sat on. Trying to drown out the chattering and clattering of the class putting themselves together to leave, you try to pull an image of the model from your brain. You’ve seen him three or four times now, you didn’t keep count– each time you try to engrave him into your mind. You think this drawing is the closest you’ve ever gotten, fingers stained with charcoal. You decide to take this drawing home instead of leaving it like that last time.

By the time the room is empty, you’ve finished gathering your things. You take your time, knowing you have to call an uber since you finished about three cups of wine and you were a lightweight. Taking one last look at your drawing, you begin to take it down from the isle you used.

“I think yours is my favourite out of the bunch.”

His voice completely startles you, causing you to tear the top of the paper for a split second. You quickly stop yourself, letting go of your drawing allowing it to float helplessly to the ground so you wouldn’t completely destroy it. Instantly annoyed, your hazy, drunk gaze looks over your shoulder. It’s then you realize the class model is speaking to you.

He’s fully dressed, the first time you’ve seen it. It seems more intimate, you feel yourself burn hot at his voice as he apologizes, bending over and picking up your drawing. Smooth, sultry, and thickly accented– he’s rendered you speechless. “I always like the ones you draw– you’re very good.” He offers the paper to you.

“Thank you..”

You barely whisper your thanks, carefully taking the drawing from him. The rip doesn’t reach the art, thankfully. All your words are caught in your throat, he’s openly staring at you this time and you think he knows the effect he has on you. Swallowing your spit, you visibly relax ever so slightly as you begin to roll it up ready to leave.

“Do you come here often? I’ve seen you before.”

“Couple times a month.”

“Mr. Kilmyer let me keep some of yours of me, they’re hanging in my home. You’re incredibly talented– is this your profession?”

You’re trying to be respectful and listen to him, but you can’t. Your skin is boiling and the way the stupid cashmere turtleneck he wears fits him so perfectly that you can practically see his sculpted form beneath it is driving you up the wall. Though, that’s probably because you’ve seen him naked before and want to see it again. It’s fresh in your mind, and every time you blink you get a flash of his intense gaze. Wine plus him does not mix well.

“No.” You breathe out. He’s stepped closer, you’re in a full blown conversation with him now and you can see the quality of his face better. He has beautiful high cheekbones and strong brows giving him an intoxicating expression. His lips are thin and pink, you see he’s put chapstick on now. You wonder what it tastes like.

“It’s just a hobby. Um, thank you– I’m glad you like them.”

He cracks a smile, and your heart leaps so far into your throat you’re sure you can taste it. He seems to realize he hasn’t introduced himself, and offers you his hand. You’re delighted. “I am Loki, it’s a pleasure.” Your hand slips into his easily, a friendly shake sending electrifying shocks across your sensitive skin. You’re too drunk for this.

A little smile curls onto your lips, finally he thinks. “Y/N.”

He catches the slow blink of your eyelids, it’s late. You’re tired, and drunk– he can tell. He pulls his hand away and tucks a strand of his own hair behind his ear, drawing you in more. Does he know how sexy he is? You think he does. “I apologize, you must be tired. I don’t mean to take up your time, it’s just amazing to me how you’re able to master the human form in such a beautiful way.” His compliments give you a dopamine rush, your brain is fuzzy like the sizzling of a firecracker.

“I have to order an uber, so it’s okay..I have time.” You simply respond, he watched you drink those three glasses of wine.

Loki opens his mouth to say something, closing it as a thought come across his face. He sucks his lip in ever so slightly, biting it. He thinks for a moment, finger coming to his chin to caress it. His skin looks so soft and you’re instantly jealous of his own hand. Everytime you see him your mind floats away. Every single time he models, he’s fueled the bank in your mind to use late at night when you’re feeling lonely. You feel guilty a lot of the time, using a stranger to pleasure yourself– but you simply think of it as a one night stand. (That you keep going back to.)

You’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss his pretty lips, how it would feel and taste. You think he tastes like some kind of bourbon, and maybe caramel. A delicious mix. You especially enjoy remenecing on how he’d look at you while you drew him, how his mossy eyes bore deep into your soul and ignited a sexual flame in you faster than anyone ever had.

“Those can get quite pricey, hm?” He pauses, drawing your mind back to your conversation and away from your intrusively nasty thoughts about him. Loki rubs the side of his neck slightly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “Well, I know we only just officially met– but I could drive you home if you’d rather save the money?”

His offer lingers in the air for a moment, before a surprised oh leaves you and your brows raise. Free ride from the pretty model that eats you up with his stare every single time you see him? Yes please!

“I would hate to bother you..”

“It’d be my pleasure, truly! I do feel a bit honoured talking with someone who views me in such a lovely perspective.”

You don’t fight again after that, a sheepish grin taking hold of your lips– you giggle. It’s heaven to his ears. “Sure.”

The walk to his car was short, but he continued to ask you questions– egging you to socialize with him. You wanted to just stare and eat up his features, engrave as much as you could of him into your brain because you’re sure this is the last time you’ll see him. You’re able to muster up questions to ask him, so you’re not such a boring chatting partner. He is giving you a ride home after all. Loki does not model often, but he did get roped into it after his brother suggested him. It’s relaxing for him, because he’s able to mentally check out for a few hours and not worry about anything– it’s nice.

You realize he may have just been spacing out in your direction and you’re deeply embarrassed that you came to the conclusion that he was equally staring at you. Loki opens the door of the passenger side for you, it’s amusing to your intoxicated little brain and you can’t help but laugh as you get into the car. “It feels like you walked out of a fairytale.” You murmur.

“Never had a gentleman open the car door for you? Such a shame.” He tuts at whatever past relationships you’ve had, and you can feel your standards raising.

Your drunk limbs find immediate comfort in the seat of his car, relaxing and laying your head back. The car ride is peaceful, and he lets you roll your window down so you can feel the cold wintery air on your skin. I’m a fan of the cold. Loki simply stated when you worried over him becoming too chilled. The cold air feels good on your warm skin, you know you’re in for a good night sleep.

Loki comfortably chats with you the entire car ride to your home, giving him weak directions as you try not to drift to sleep. Is it weird you feel completely at ease, and safe, with a complete stranger? Yes. But so far, he hasn’t given you any reason to feel any other way. In reality you wanted to fall asleep in his arms, but his car would have to do.

Thankfully you’re able to keep yourself awake, and when he pulls into your driveway you raise your arms above your head to stretch. It’s a damn good stretch, a euphoric feeling rushing through your body as you feel your muscles contract. Loki delightfully takes in the rise of your shirt, the sliver of skin showing your belly before you plop your arms back into your lap. You’re eternally thankful to him.

Looking back over to Loki to thank him for the ride home, you’re unsettled by his deep stare on you. It makes your chest and head thump once more. “Thank you for driving me home, Mr. Loki..” You try to be respectful, but you’re only turning him on.

“Of course,” He hums, not sure if he wants to let you leave just yet.

You don’t think your night will go much further with Loki, your hopes are not high. But when you grab for the handle to open your car door, his warm hand is wrapping around your free one. “Y/N..” He starts, and the way Loki says your name is magical. It’s the first time, and you’re a little worried at how much of an effect it has on you. You shiver once more, gulping thickly. “Yes, sir?” Your voice wavers for a moment, and you can’t help your usage of sir. You do wish to be respectful to him afterall. Your usage of sir seems to break him, make him snap– Loki is quickly leaning over the console and caressing your face with his hands.

“May I kiss you, Y/N?”

“Yes, please.” Your response is quick, and his lips crashing into yours is quicker.

Your stomach explodes like fireworks feeling his lips on you, and the desperation that follows only makes the heat rising in your core burn brighter. His lips are much softer than you were expecting, coating your own in that chapstick you can now taste is strawberry. You moan after tasting it, and Loki takes this free time to work his tongue towards yours. His lips are sweet like strawberries, but his tongue and mouth is minty and the stark contrast makes your head spin.

Loki’s left hand is wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you closer while his right hand cradles your face like you’d simply disappear if he let you go. The desperation in his kisses make your stomach twist in the familiar sense of need, want. Your hands have found his biceps to hold onto, fingers digging into the fabric of his pine-green cashmere turtleneck. “You taste so divine.” He breathes into you, devouring the whimpers and moans that float from your throat with every kiss.

Each compliment he spews is another match thrown into the fire thats on your skin. Your head is indescribably fuzzy, and you feel like you’re going to pass out. But it’s good. It’s so, so good. You might doubt this to be a dream later on.

The hand on your face is exploring you now, and it doubles all of what your feeling. His hand slides to your hip, rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. It’s overstimulating at best, and turning you on even more. You instinctively rub his biceps, feeling his muscles underneath. Loki drags his hand down your thigh, rubbing and caressing just the same as you are to his biceps. It’s stimulating the heat growing in your pants but it’s not enough and when you buck your hips ever so slightly all thoughts are thrown out the window.

Loki’s hand palms your clothed cunt, ripping a ragged groan from the back of your throat. He hasn’t even moved yet and you feel like you’re about to melt, about to cum. Please, please, please, please. Your tortured voice peeps into his mouth as he bites your lip. You spur him on without even trying too hard. Slowly, but with pressure, Loki begins to rub his fingers and thumb up and down the length of your cunt.

You hiss, and before you can moan out his kisses are occupying you once more. His tongue barrages your crevices once again, exploring your tongue, teeth, roof of your mouth– anything he can. “So good for me, good girl.” He moans praises, and you echo his vocal pleasure with your own. Thank you Mr. Loki, please! Feels so good, sir.. Your groan hitches when his thumb glides over your clit through your jeans and panties– he’s instantly dragging his thumb across the area. It shocks you like a voltage, your body tensing in utter glee as it begins to climb for it’s release.

Please, sir! You gasp as his simple drags of up and down have turned into calculated wiggles and zigzags that have you keening. Your skin is burning, and you’re so close. So, so close. He can tell by your breathing, your gasping between kisses– it’s so cute. Just as you’re about to reach your climax, just as your about to cum Loki seamlessly removes his hand from your warm, wet clothed cunt and grabs the side of your face in a deep kiss.

You finally tap his biceps, and he releases you from the passionate, breath-stealing kiss he pulled you into. You’re gasping for air, trying to ignore the wetness of your panties and dull ache coming from your hole.

Loki catches you slightly as you slump, head far too heavy for you to hold up now. He remembers you’re drunk, and a giddy smile comes to his features. “Oh dear, I ‘ought to get you inside, yes?” He’s so sweet again, like he hadn’t just stolen your soul and heart with those kisses. If you weren’t so drunk you’d be pissed.

Scratch that– you are pissed. Your body is screaming for release, and you know you’re going to be too tired to rub one out once you’re inside your home. But Loki looks so mesmerized by you, so encaptured.

A small line of drool has dripped from the corner of your mouth, and tears have streaked your cheeks– your eyes still welling from lack of release. “Oh, princess..” He murmurs, kissing your cheeks where your tears roll down from.

Without another word, Loki gently releases you to rest against your car seat before exiting the car and making his way around. He opens the door for you, and helps you get out of the car. Your legs are wobbling, like a new-born deer. You want to throw yourself against him, beg him to come inside and finish what he started but you’re too tired. You’re too exhausted, and it’s hard keeping your eyes open. Perhaps it’s best the two of you stopped here.

He escorts you to the front door of your house, and places a loving kiss on your forehead and lips. He watches you fumble to open your door and get inside, bidding you a goodnight before heading back to his car.

You’re still buzzing with excitement by the time you crawl in bed, your bag and rolled up drawing laying haphazardly on your desk. You want to cry, weep even. You’re unbelievably horny and he simply just left you like that– although you want to keep thinking about how much he screwed you over and how much you’re going to pounce him the next time you see him, sleep has taken over.

You fall asleep with Loki on your mind, and a determined mind for next time.

Next time.

306 notes · View notes

lis-likes-fics · 2 years

Text

Mirror, Mirror*

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, finger sucking, deepthroat (with fingers), ungodly use of Eddie’s rings, breast play, slight hair pulling, praise kink, idk if this counts for voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, aftercare... A/N: Idk why this took me about a month to finish, but here it is! I hope you enjoy reading this filthy oneshot about Eddie that was soley inspired by him and his rings and his hands. I had to repost this because the first time got like.... nothing on it, and I think Tumblr just started messing with my posts or something, so here it is again. Happy reading! Enjoy and leave plenty of feedback/comments!

How it happened, you'll never know.

You just know that the position you find yourself in is a position you hope to repeat sometime in the near, near future.

"It's another right, Steve!" You roll your eyes at him for having to give directional aid.

"I got it! Jeez," he huffs and shakes his head. He pulls into the parking lot of the Hideout, eyeing the building with a skeptical look. "This place?"

"Yeah," you nod, grabbing your bag to pull over your head, "come on." You look at him and tilt your head, "Don't look like that. It'll be great!"

Eddie was having one of his shows tonight. It is the first one you have ever been to. Eddie had to be there early to set up, so you made Steve take you and insisted he watch the show, too. He agreed only because he wanted to support his friend with his best friend...but also because you threatened to cut his hair in his sleep if he didn't.

He follows you out of the car as you both walk into the building. It looks like a punk spot, with spray paint graffiti—on both the outside and the inside—and posters of bands and sexy women lining the walls. The lights are dim to keep the spotlight of the small stage significantly more important. There is a bar on the side across from the stage and the audience is a little bigger than you expected from what Eddie had told you.

You don't see him as you walk in. It's the first thing you do: try and find him. Steve walks closely by your side, as if he's your own personal bodyguard. You believe he's convinced that he is your own personal bodyguard. You let him believe it, whatever makes him happy.

You don't end up finding Eddie—which doesn't surprise you. You and Steve go to the bar and grab a couple of drinks to hold you over until the concert starts. On the small stage, the instruments belonging to Eddie's band are set up and ready to be played.

It is a while before the concert actually starts, but you aren't disappointed when the announcer makes his kind of half-hearted introduction of the band. You're pretty sure you are the loudest person when the applause for the band ensues as each member walks onto the stage.

You smile up at Eddie when he stands center stage. He's as handsome as ever with a Corroded Coffin tee (one that matches your own and Steve's), paired with his leather-jacket-denim-vest combo and the bandana you gifted him forever ago wrapped around his forehead. You can tell that he searches for you immediately, finding you just as fast.

You wave at him and then blow him a kiss, which he catches with a cheesy grin and presses to his chest. He steps up to his mic when his guitar is placed over his shoulder. "What's up, Hawkins?" he greets with that large smile you can never get enough of.

The crowd is good tonight—albeit small, it's a step up from five drunks. They cheer and respond as excitedly as a Hawkins crowd can. It helps that a few other friends are in the audience to support him. "I see some familiar faces." His gaze finds you again and he winks as he continues, "And some really pretty ones, too." You playfully roll your eyes at him.

He finishes up his small intro, choosing not to stall too long before he finally starts the performance. The first song is an original, one you helped him write when he asked you for inspiration. It turns out, you had been the inspiration because he only really started writing chords and lyrics when you began aiding him. Hearing it being performed now really brings into perspective how much this song was written for you.

It's when Eddie goes into a guitar solo, fast and impassioned, that you begin to get distracted. You're lucky Steve is too caught up in the good music to notice you because you are definitely not cheering excitedly anymore.

The way Eddie handles his guitar, the way he plucks and strums the strings with skilled fingers. It makes the room ten times hotter than you found comfortable. You aren't spared when the solo is over and the rest of the band comes back in for the chorus because his hands continue to strum hypnotically.

Eddie looks up as he plays, eyes looking to find you to see if you were enjoying the show. He was intrigued to find that you are trained on a very specific part of the show that he had not realized would be highlighted as much. You look as though you had been put in a trance by the way you stare at his hands.

The song comes to a close as the crowd erupts in cheers for the band of punks. It breaks you from your trance and you begin to clap and scream for Eddie again. Steve nudges your shoulder with a smile, "You're right, he's awesome."

"I told you!" you respond after you shake away the last dash of your hypnosis. "Worth the threat, right?"

He shrugs a shoulder, "I still would've preferred you not threaten my hair, but sure." You nod with another smile and look back at the stage as the guitar picks up to start the next song. This one is a different one, not one of Eddie's own writing but one that you know to be one of Eddie's favorites—Master of Puppets.

You always encourage him to play it at one of his shows, but he always insists that the band isn't quite ready for it yet. You take it as a win as you watch him begin the song. He only looks at his guitar for a few seconds before he nods, confident enough to look away as his eyes lock with yours.

Great. Now you know that he notices you.

The dark look in his eyes as he stares you down and plays is enough to tell you exactly what he was thinking. He saw you staring at his hands, he saw you squeeze your thighs together, even if you hadn't even noticed yourself doing it. You can't help but to bite your lip, pulling it between your teeth. You give him a smile and a wink to try and distract him. It only works a little bit as he turns his attention back to his guitar while the rest of the band picks up.

But Eddie is already forming his plans in his head.

Driving back home with Eddie is interesting. He has a smirk on his face the whole time as he stares slyly out of the windshield. It's relatively quiet, aside from your occasional chatter about the performance. It puts you on edge, has you closing your legs too tightly when he gives you a certain look.

You feel warm, very warm. He knows this, and it only makes his smirk grow.

When you finally reach his home, you help him move some of his equipment inside. He's uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, it doesn't help your nerves. After everything is put away, he curls up with you in his room, pulling you between his legs and wrapping his arms around you to pull your back against his chest.

It's a nice moment, intimate and close. You blush madly, enjoying the feeling of his warm embrace. His lips come close to your ear, brushing against the shell and making you shudder. You can feel his smile against your skin, you can hear it in his voice, as he speaks. "What was your favorite part about the concert?"

You shift, bringing his arms to wrap around you tighter as you shrug with a smile. "Definitely watching you shred that guitar." You bite your lip teasingly, "It was amazing."

He smiles wickedly, you don't have to see it to know. His hand splay over your stomach as his other arm comes around your neck and rests over your shoulders. "I could tell," he says. "I saw you staring at my hands. You were practically drooling."

You knew you had been caught. You saw it in the way he looked at you when you locked eyes before. Him telling you know, especially with the position you are in, set your body on fire. You hold your breath as he continues to speak, his low voice rumbling in your ear.

"Did it excite you?" he wonders. His tongue darts out to taste your skin. You shudder. "I could tell it did. Do you like my hands?"

You try to hum, but it comes out as a whimper as you mold against him. The sound is helpless, nearly pathetic. His large hand comes to rest on your shoulder, brushing against the side of your neck. Again, you whimper.

You can feel him poking against your back. The damn bastard is already hard, excited by the idea of you being fascinated by his hands. "What do you want, hm? You want me to touch you?"

You hum, giving no verbal response as you simply nod your head. He shakes his head with a soft tut. "Words, sweetheart. Gotta use your big girl words," he purrs.

"Yes," you whimper.

"Where do you want me to touch you? How do you want it, hm?" His questions set your body on fire. "You want me to put my hand around your throat? Or grope these amazing tits? Or do you want me to stick my fingers in your mouth, or maybe in your pretty little pussy?"

You moan this time, your chest heaving at his words. "Yes, please."

He laughs, "Well, which is it? I've only got two hands, sweetheart."

Damn him and his stupid fucking antics that prevent him from giving you what you want, what you need. You blush, face flushed deep and way too warm.

"Come on, you gotta tell me what you want, babe," he coos.

You huff out a breath, your words fumbling as you try to form them. "I want...you to...want you to..."

"C'mon, tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you," he promises, biting your earlobe as he whispers the words against your neck.

"My... My tits...want you to touch them," you say. Your voice is barely above a whisper, a shy little murmur of words that makes Eddie want to pepper you in kisses and praise you for being a "big girl". You continue pathetically, "And my neck."

He beams, lust-blown eyes watching you adoringly. "That's a good girl. I can do that."

And he does. He takes your breast in his hand, squeezing and groping, rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching. His other hand wraps around your throat, his fingers settle over your neck to feel your pulse thumping and slipping under his touch. And then he squeezes, just a light constriction that makes you moan.

You stretch your neck, allowing him more space as his hand perfectly fits around your throat. You raise your own hand to grasp his wrist, tensing as you whimper. "Tighter."

"That's right," he smirks, as if he's remembering something. "My girl likes it rough."

The way he says "my girl" is possessive, a proud statement of his adoration for you. He holds you tighter—your tits, your throat—he pulls you to him like you're the only thing in the world he needs.

He pulls his hand from you just for a moment, before tucking it under your shirt and grasping the front of your lace bra. In one quick, rough pull, the bra snaps off of you and you gasp, "Eddie!"

He silences you, smacking his lips over your, using his hand around your throat to pull your head back, resting it on his shoulder. He kisses you deeply, roughly, teeth and tongue clashing as he devours you. And you let him, moaning against his mouth when his hand squeezes your breast, pinches your nipples.

His warm hands and cold rings press into your skin. It feels like heaven. You're already dizzy and gasping, begging with your body for him to fuck you. But you know he won't, not yet. He enjoys toying with you too much. No, he's going to take his time. He's going to make you beg, make you scream for him. He isn't going to give you what you want until you do what he wants: become a sobbing mess of pathetic pleas for pleasure that you know only he can grant you.

He pulls away from your lips with a smack. Your eyes stay closed before he suddenly whispers in your ear. "Look."

Your eyes flutter open and you look at his blushing face, but he's not looking at you. You follow his gaze across the room where you see a mirror. You hadn't noticed it there before, you feel stupid for not noticing it.

The sight of you is erotic, flush against him with your legs spread wide, his hand cupping your neck and your breast. A fresh wave of arousal washes through you at the sight reflecting back at you, locking onto Eddie's dark gaze through the mirror as he drinks you in.

"Look at you," he coos. "So pretty." You flush under his praise, breath catching in your throat when his teeth tug on your earlobe. You bite down hard on your lip, and your eyes flutter as he pulls you even tighter to his chest. One hand sweeps down from your breast to rub over the black ink in your skin for just a second with a deep groan before returning to your tit. Your eyes land on it, the only tattoo on your body that you had. Eddie's name in dramatic serif and black ink embedded into your skin. It always drives him crazy whenever he sees it, a tattoo you decided to get in honor of his own.

With his hand holding your throat, he pulls your head back up so you're watching. You moan his name, whisper it like a prayer as his head buries in the crook of your neck. He kisses along the skin of your throat, his teeth grazes and his tongue laves the veins hiding beneath your skin. The sounds he makes directly into your ear are all naughty, they're sinful and they make you drip while he gropes you harder. "So needy," he whispers.

His fingers flicking your nipples soon aren't enough. You're needy, growing more and more needy by the second. His hands on your skin are perfect, but now you need them somewhere else. Somewhere closer, somewhere deeper. "Eddie," you mewl. "I need more."

"More?" he responds, like your demand is entirely absurd. "What do you need more of, hm?" His hair tickles your cheeks. You feel his warm, wet tongue glide along a large patch of your skin. It was no kiss and it was no kitten lick as the languid muscle quite literally laps you up like a man dying of thirst.

"I want..." you struggle to get the words out, flushing once again as you grow self-conscious of yourself against him. You repeat the words, trying and failing to force them from your mouth. 'I want you to fuck my pussy with your hand.' But the vulgar words just make you squirm, they make you want to hide your face in his neck and never come out. But you know he's going to make you say something, you know he won't let you hide away from him. He'll make you declare your wants to him so that he may deliver, even if he already knows exactly what it is you want from him.

"What do you want, baby? I can't help you if you don't tell me." He whispers the words into your ear, pulling back only so he can look at the side of your face as you breathe shallowly while still gripping your hand tightly around his wrist.

Your voice is such a quiet little whine that he honestly cannot hear you. "Want you to...touch my pu..." You can't even finish the word, too shy to get the word out. It wouldn't have mattered if you'd gotten the word out, you're just too quiet. Even with his face only inches away from your own, you go unheard.

He loosens his grip around your throat, even if he knows for a fact that his hand isn't what is making you so quiet. "What was that? I couldn't hear you. You gotta speak up."

You whimper pathetically before you lift your voice just enough for him to catch a whisper of your words. "I want your fingers...i-in me."

You feel his smirk against your skin when he dives down back into the crook of your neck to taste your skin again. You feel like candy the way he licks you, like a lollipop that he's ready to devour. "Where?" he breathes against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your lobe.

You hum uselessly, still struggling to find a word that doesn't make you want to hide away. He helps you out a little, "Your mouth? Do you want me to shove my fingers into your mouth, sweetheart?" You melt against him and can't help but nod. It isn't what you had in mind, but you'll be damned if you pass up the opportunity to taste his fingers, to suck on them as he pushes them as far down your throat as he can manage.

"Please," you say, too desperate, too pleading.

He smiles and does exactly that as he lets go of your throat, "Okay. Open wide for me."

The way you drop your jaw makes Eddie's cock twitch against your back, poking against you through the layers of his pants and your clothes. It's too fast and too wide, and he has half a mind to put his cock in it instead of his fingers. But he doesn't. You asked for his hands, so he would give you his hands.

He groans and licks his lips, his tongue lingers on his bottom lip as he focuses on the way a line of drools already slides down your chin. You're far too eager than you should've been, and he wants to fill your ears with a string of dirty words and half-hearted insults about how desperate and how pathetic you are for him. But he doesn't. He just gives you what you want.

You feel two thick fingers rest over your bottom lip first, sliding in deeper to sit on the top of the tip of your tongue. You push your tongue out farther as a silent beg for him to give you more. He obliges and slides his fingers in deeper. His second knuckles brush past your lips and your eyes flutter shut.

"Close," he orders, tilting his head up and shaking some of his hair from his face. You do as you're told, wrapping your lips around his knuckles and closing your eyes in the process. He feels as your tongue wiggles in your mouth, pushes involuntarily against his digits to taste him.

"Suck." The single word is nearly a growl, deep and primal in his chest as he stares at you with lust blown eyes. He clenches his teeth as you instantly respond, suckling on his fingers as you wet them with your saliva. You moan mutedly, melting again. His eyes close and his head falls back. How he wishes it was his cock your pretty lips were wrapped around right now, but his fingers would do just fine—for now, anyway.

"God, you are amazing. Look, baby," he groans. Your gaze finds the mirror again, and you raise a hand to wrap around his wrist again. Your middle and index fold against his and push gently. Eddie complies with the movement and furthers the length of his fingers into your mouth. He moves, slow, paced, and deep into your mouth. The metal of his rings nearly sting against your warm lips, the tips of his fingers brush against that part of your mouth that is so close to your gag reflex, yet so far at the same time.

You moan once more, a very muffled version of his name mumbled around his thick fingers. "Don't worry," he breathes into your ear. "I'm all hot and bothered, too."

You'd already known that—with the way his dick is pressing against your back so harshly, you'd be a fool not to know—but his admittance just makes it so much harder to contain yourself, and you suck. You suck his fingers deeper into your throat, pull his rings past your lips and cover them in your spit as his hand shifts just enough to be able to push just enough down your throat that you would have gagged (if he had not already done so much training for your throat already).

Saliva runs down your chin and wets your lips. The sight makes you clench around air. The palm of Eddie's hand is practically drenched. He's so hard by now, gripping onto whatever he can (which just so happens to be your poor breast, as his nails dig into your skin so deliciously) to stay grounded enough to not end his teasing so quickly and just fuck you. He wants to draw this out for as long as he can, reduce you to a mess of sobs.

But you're just so perfect.

He curses under his breath multiple times as he watches you suck his fingers in deeper. "I bet you'd be even worse if my fingers were covered in your cum, huh?" he grunts naughtily into your ear. You shudder, your core throbbing as he continues to hold the upperhand. You nod to answer his question, sliding your tongue between his two fingers and licking the skin that stretches there.

He huffs. "I'm going to be nice to you, sweetheart," he mutters. "I'm going to ask you a question, and all you have to do is nod or shake your head. Alright?" You nod, eager to please. His lips brush against the shell of your ear once more, dragging along the skin there to make your whole body shudder. "Do you want my fingers in your pretty little pussy now?"

The moan you let out is too deep to be considered a moan. It bounces off your chest and rumbles there desperately at his words, which had set you on fire. You nod so quickly, you make yourself dizzy. You yelp around his fingers as his lips wrap around a large patch of skin and his teeth bite.

As your lips fall open, he removes his fingers from your mouth. You whine, but he quickly silences you. "Hey, I'm just switching you out, baby," he smiles. Then he chuckles. "Not that I think you need help."

He replaces his fingers with his mouth and kisses you, devours you as he moves his hand from your breast and uses it to push your pants and matching set of underwear off of you. You shiver as the cool air of his room meets the burning throb of your pussy. The palm of Eddie's dry hand strokes along your inner thighs, teasing and taunting you as it inches closer and closer to where you need him most.

He distracts you as you move closer still to his lips. You gasp when his wet fingers make a long line up your pussy, tracing along you and seeing just how wet he'd made you. He smirks and chuckles, puffs of air blow against your face. "You're dripping, sweetheart. Keep watching."

You reach out and take his lip between your teeth as he strokes you. He breaks the kiss, almost reluctantly, and turns your head to face the mirror. The way you moaned was nearly identical to the sounds of those pretty girls on Eddie's VHS porn tapes. His middle finger, still clad in his rings, pokes at your hole. Your breath speeds at the anticipation. He drags out the moment for a long time, tapping and circling to taunt.

When you whimper that tiny "please" that slips through your lips, Eddie finally abides. His finger slips inside of you, sinking deeper into you inch by torturous inch. You hold your breath in your chest, gasping when the icy touch of his ring brushes against you. Watching each little bit disappear, knuckle by knuckle, was hypnotic, to say the least.

He silences you by slipping the fingers of his other hand into your mouth. They push down and tap on your tongue, thrusting in and out in time with his now pumping finger in your pussy. You moan around him, closing your lips and suckling just as his thick finger curls.

A second finger joins the first, spreading you open for him. They thrust and curl. You moan and find yourself grinding your hips into his palm.

And all too quickly, he removes his hands from you. You whine and he just shushes you again. You hear the clattering of metal against wood as Eddie takes off his rings, and your eyes linger on how wet they are. He doesn't leave you to writhe much longer before his fingers are thrusting into you again. His fingers push deeper inside of you.

Eddie buries his head in the crook of your neck. His tongue licks you again, his teeth nibbling and biting to mark you up as his. He whispers things into your ears, encouraging you along as the palm of his hand grazes your clit. When his fingers spread, you whimper and push your tongue between the two fingers in your mouth as well.

The sounds he makes in response have you gushing around him. "Jesus, you're amazing. You like suckin' on my fingers while I fuck you with my hand? Hm?"

You nod, whimpering something unintelligible around him. He feels your hand suddenly twist behind you, squishing between both your bodies and cupping him. He nearly gasps when you press your palm against him through his pants. There's a tent there that makes the both of you breathless..

You watch as he brings his lips to hover next to your ear, whispering lowly. "Yeah, you feel that? You're making me so hard right now."

That knot in your stomach begins to build, to tighten in your abdomen as you feel the sparks of your release. His thumb presses against your clit as he feels you clenching around his fingers. The sounds of his fingers slipping in and out of you are sinister, they make your eyes roll back and your breath stutter.

You whisper his name, moaning at the flurry of sensations rushing through you. He nods against your neck, his lips grazing your skin as he watches you through the mirror. "I know, baby. Go on and cum for me. I know you want to."

You do, and you do it with a shout. A gasping breath rips through you and you toss your head back over his shoulder, flexing your jaw as loud and breathy moans tear through you like a symphony of pleasure. Eddie watches you come undone with trembling thighs and curling toes. He groans and thrusts his fingers deeper when you clench around them, dick twitching against your back as you gush.

He shushes and whispers in your ear as you come down, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and pussy and smoothing them over your thighs, smearing your spit and release all over your skin as he calms you again. You're a gasping mess as you lean into him, dizzy and tingly.

"That feel good, sweetheart?" he whispers in your ear. You allow a breath sigh to slip past your lips when you feel his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh as he squeezes. "Feel all nice and fuzzy?"

The way he speaks to you was so gentle, teasing and almost taunting. You nod, giving into his words as you look at him over his shoulder and beg him to kiss you. He does, leaning forward and allowing you that pleasure. When he pulls back, he gives you a malicious smile, "You wanna make me feel good, babe?"

You nod, fucked out and eager to please as you lick your lips. "Yes," you say.

He smiles, "Good girl. Get on your knees for me." He helps you sit up on shaky legs, your knees digging into the mattress below you as he presents you in front of the reflective glass. It looks so naughty, you completely naked and dripping and he's fully clothed with hands covered in you. His cheeks and neck are flushed red, his messy hair is messier, tangled on his head. He's pretty.

He kisses the back of your neck and uses his hand to smooth down your spine, lowering you gently so you are holding yourself up on your hands. He admires the view of your body before him, your curves so deliciously laid out for him. He pushes your hair to the side and touches the tips of his finger to your shoulder blades, tracing them appreciatively before stroking down your spine once more to reach your ass.

He gropes and grabs handfuls of flesh, squeezing you until your skin flushes red. Both of his hands touching you, his thick fingers prodding your skin greedily, make you moan helplessly. A yelp rips from your throat when one of his hands smacks you out of nowhere. The sound is sharp and loud, makes your skin sting and turn into ripples of pleasure.

He smooths his hand over the area he's marked and chuckles lightly. "Sorry," he says half-heartedly, "I couldn't resist."

You feel the bed shift as he slips off the bed. You follow his movements, watching him pull his shirt over his head and discard his pants. Still in black boxers, he reaches toward the counter and picks up a hair tie. He combs his fingers through his messy hair, watching you watch him as he puts his hair in a bun. He walks over to you, bends down and lifts your chin with a knuckle. "Wanna see your pretty face," he tells you, placing a peck on your lips.

The sound of fabric sliding against skin has your body tingling in anticipation before the bed shifts again. You bow your head, waiting with bated breath and moaning when his hands find your bare skin again. Eddie's body bends over yours, his hand coming to wrap around your throat just to cradle you. His lips graze against the shell of your ear and he places a gentle kiss there before he whispers, "Are you ready, sweetheart?"

You nod, and he tuts. "Uh-uh," he says. "You gotta use your words, baby. You know better. Do you want me?"

Again you nod, this time with a pathetic little moan. "Yes, Eddie," you say. "Yes, I want you, please." Then you feel his smile spread over his face as he kisses the back of your neck. Another "good girl" has you weak for more reasons than just your fresh orgasm.

Then he pushes himself inside of you, and you gasp once more. He fills you up, makes you feel nice and full as he pushes in inch by delicious inch. With the arousal and cum lathering your pussy, there's no resistance as he slides in. His hips press into your red ass and he bottoms out with a mix of a groan and a whimper. He twitches inside of you, and your limbs tremble in response.

"You gonna be a good girl and moan for me?" he asks, breath blowing out in puffs into your ear. You respond with a moan, earning a delightful smile from Eddie. His chest pulls away from your back and you miss the warmth of his skin as it is replaced by the chill of the air in the room.

His hand presses against the back of your skull, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls your head up. You nearly go limp at the sensations rushing through your body with that one little pull. "Look," he tells you. You find yourself in the mirror, biting your lip hard at the sight of Eddie behind you as you hold yourself up on your hands and knees. His tattoos stand out against the expanse of his skin as you eye the tattoo of your name near his V-line.

You had told him that it was cheesy when he brought the idea up to you, presented a bunch of what-ifs he never let you finish when he told you he wanted to get it. He just pressed his lips to yours, told you he loved you, and then set up an appointment. Then you got his to match. Staring back at you now, it warmed your chest, made you all fuzzy and tingly in a lot of places. It's like a claim, like a reminder for him to know who he belongs to, as yours is for him.

"I want you to watch me ruin you, sweetheart," he breathes. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," you keen.

Eddie beams, and then begins to move again. He pulls out, slow and agonizing as his cock drags against your walls. It makes you writhe, makes you clench and whimper for more, more, more. But Eddie knows what he's doing, he knows just how to play with you. By the time he's nearly fully out, nothing but his tip poking at your pussy, he shoves himself back in with a rough thrust that makes you see stars.

You cry out, fisting the sheets as you hang your head. He pulls you back up to look again, makes you watch as he does the same thing over and over again, building in pace and force as he slowly becomes rougher. One hand wraps around your waist, holding you tightly as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

Soon, he's fucking into and sending delicious shocks of ecstasy through your body. Your legs are a trembling mess, your arms are slowly dwindling in the strength they need to hold you up. You have lost track of your moans, you can hardly hear yourself begging Eddie to keep going, please. His grip on your hair tightens, still doing his best to keep from actually hurting you as he forces his eyes to stay open so he can watch your body bounce on his cock.

The sounds that mix in the room of your collective noises and his hips slapping against your ass make you moan louder. You don't register the pleasure tears slipping down your cheeks, tears that make Eddie's cock twitch as he tends to you.

"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" he asks. "You crying 'cause it's so much for you?"

You gasp and gush, watching your body jerk forward with each thrust of his hips. "Yeah," you whimper. "Fuck, Eddie! You make me feel so good."

The words are choppy, spoken between mewls and sighs as you lower yourself on your elbows. You bury your face in your arms, your hands still grasping fistfulls of Eddie's sheets as your only lifeline. Eddie lets you lay down for just a moment, but doesn't ease up. It anything, you give him a new angle to fuck up into you from. He presses himself so deep inside you, fills you to the brim as you cry out for him.

After a moment, he lifts your head again, this time by slipping two fingers into your mouth and making your suckle on them. You take it greedily, turn your head to allow him to thrust his fingers into your mouth like he's doing with his cock. He feels your pussy beginning to flutter around him as his hand on your waist snakes around to press against your clit.

"You gonna cum for me?" he breathes. "Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Please," you beg, slack jawed and teary eyed.

He nods, "Okay. You can cum, baby." He doesn't hold it out like you expected him to. He allows you to come undone again, allows you to let go as you cry out his name with a raspy throat. He throws his head back when you clench around him, clenching his jaw and nearly growling at the feeling.

He doesn't stop, even as you come down from your second high. If anything, he drives himself rougher, harder inside of you. The pleasure stacks up immediately and your weak, trembling body cries out for him as you shake and moan and gasp. "Mmph, yeah," he sighs. "I bet that felt so good, didn't it?"

You nod lazily, so full of pleasure that you can hardly moan as much anymore as you're reduced to mumbling little whimpers. A rough thrust of his hips proves you wrong as the blunt head of his cock shoves against the perfect spot inside of you. Your back arches and he takes that opportunity to wrap his fingers around your throat again, holding you possessively as he continues to fuck you like he'll never touch you again.

He adjusts his legs, hooking his ankles over yours to spread yours farther apart. "Jesus, you feel amazing, sweetheart," he praises. "Don't think I could ever live without this pretty little thing."

Eddie can feel himself reaching his peak. His cock twitches inside of you and his muscles flex as he watches your fucked out face in the mirror. "Shit, you're gonna make me cum, baby," he moans. He starts rubbing at your clit again, rough, fast circles that make you want to sob. "Are you gonna take my cum, sweetheart? You gonna watch me cum inside of you and fill you up?"

You nod quickly, so quickly that you're almost convinced that's why you're dizzy. His hand tightens around your throat without cutting off your air supply, pulling you up so that your back is flush against his chest as he thrusts into you. "Want you to cum with me," he breathes into your ear, eyes glued to yours in the mirror. "Can you do that?"

You nod again, "Yes, baby."

"Good girl," he praises, thrusting harder as his rhythm weakens. His fingers press harder against your poor, aching clit. When he can't hold on anymore, he gasps into your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Give me all of it, cum on my cock!"

And you do. You come undone with a loud, squeaky moan as you cry out his name. This one is more intense than the other two combined, it sizzles every nerve ending, flutters through your stomach and your chest and makes every limb shake. You're blinded for a moment, brought back only by the sound of Eddie's loud, throaty moan of his own as he shouts your name. You feel like part of it is for you, to let you know that you're the one doing this to him, you're the one delivering sweet bliss as his jaw goes slack and every muscle tenses.

He buries his cock deep inside of you, feeling you tighten around him. His spills so deep inside of you, fills you with his cum as his fucks into you a couple more times before stilling completely. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, sticking his tongue out to lap at your skin, his teeth sinking into you as he nibbles and bites greedily.

You're too fucked out to comprehend anything other than the feeling of his body pressed flush against yours. Your mind is in a haze, all tangled and incoherent and blissfully unburdened. As Eddie slowly comes down, he begins to ramble into your ear again.

"Oh, good girl. Good, good girl. Yeah, that's much better, isn't it? You feel better? You look so pretty, all fucked out for me..." His words fill your ears as you pant and whimper. He pulls out of you, shifting back so you're both laying in the bed with you cradled against his chest. You can feel all of the wetness of your mingling releases spilling out onto your inner thighs, coating you in slick.

You slowly calm down as he continues to quietly ramble and stroke your limbs. He kisses along the back of your neck, the shell of your ear, anywhere he can reach without moving you off of his body. You move on your own accord after a moment, simply turning around in his arms so that you're chest to chest. You kiss him, long and soft and shaky. He practically whimpers into your mouth—as if he hadn't been the one holding the ace the entire time, teasing you with pet names and little commands, fucking you senseless from behind, making you cum three times in a row.

You pull away from his lips and murmur a tiny "I love you" with heavy eyes and an even heavier body as you all but slip down to rest your head on his chest. Eddie smiles, it's one of the softest smiles you'd ever seen on him as you go limp against him and get ready to fall asleep listening to the evening thumping of his heart.

He wraps his arms around you and turns you both on your sides, pulling away oh-so reluctantly and disappearing from the room. You whine and groan for him, and he returns only a few moments later with a damp cloth and a wider smile. "I'm right here, sweetheart," he assures you, spreading your legs apart as he settles between them again. He pulls you closer, as if he's going to start fucking you again. Instead, he starts cleaning you up with steady hands. "Don't want you getting all infected and everything," he half-jokes.

You scrunch up your nose at his words, speaking in an exhausted, groggy voice. "Gross."

He laughs, "You'll get some really nasty shit, like a UTI or something."

You giggle at his stupid antics. "Ew, Eddie, stop!" His laugh kicks up again and he tosses the rag away when he finishes. He plops down next to you again, pulling you into his chest as you burst into a fit of giggles. You nuzzle into his chest, curling up into him as you take in his warmth.

You sneak your hand behind his head and pull out his hair tie, letting his messy curls reign free as you take a lock between your fingers and start playing with it. You twirl it around your finger and then bring it close to your face and take in the scent of his shampoo. He watches you with sparkling eyes as you kiss the lock before letting it loose.

You burrow a little closer to Eddie and close your eyes, feeling the thick weight of slumber beginning to settle over you as you let out a definite sigh. He kisses your forehead, another long and slow press of his lips against your skin, and mutters your name. You hum lazily, too tired to reply.

"I love you, too," he says, fingers stroking along the skin of your shoulders as his arm tucked under your head flexes slightly. He watches a slow smile spread over your lips. It infects him as he grins as well. You're officially gone only a few moments after that. He presses another kiss to your forehead, and follows right behind you in your dreams.

Eddie the Banished taglist: @sweetcoffeebearr @life-on-needs @hb8301 @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie Tag yourself here...

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie my love <3 #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #female reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

575 notes · View notes

enrosadiraanisaaa · 8 months

Text

Within Session .Part Four.

Hey there cuties, glad to finally post another part of Within Session! This fanfic consist of Yandere!Leon Kennedy. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:

~Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…

Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝

This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!

I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂

This chapter does not contain any 🔞 material. This story will contain +18 content (NSFW) in the near future 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit. This story will eventually hit that point so don’t set yourself up.

Summary

As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?

A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. We're getting closer to the nitty gritty of the story. Hope y'all like this bit slice of life before shit gets fucked up. Expect the next part to be out around in two weeks.

Hope y'all enjoy the forth part! More to come 💝~ Anisssa أنيسة

Here is Part One , Part Two, and Part Three of Within Session

Cherish These Moments

Silence soon settled into the office when Leon departed out of the room after the conclusion of his session. Typically, the end of the day consists of reflecting on each session into notes. These notes along with legal documentations and insurance sheets are submitted to your supervisor every day. Now alone in the office, you were seated at your desk, hastily typing on the keyboard while staring at the computer screen to complete these synopsis to turn in so you can leave for home. It was tedious work after consulting a number of clients throughout the day, which compelled you to finish these tasks immediately following the last client. As much as you loved your job, required work tasks such as these were mundane and annoying.

At this time, you were well aware the sky was already night outside due to it being the middle of winter. The drive home was always more extensive than you would like to admit due to the snow that has accumulated over the roads, and as a Texan, you were not well versed in driving in these conditions. People back home would swear up and down hell froze over if an inch of snow touched Texas soil, but snow was an ordinary occurrence in the Midwest, especially in Omaha, Nebraska.

Eventually, you complete all the necessary notes after 40 minutes and send them through an encrypted email to your supervisor. A groan escapes your lips as you stretch up from your desk chair, standing after being seated for most of the day. With the documents and signature sheets in one hand, you turn to your chair to pull off your oversized coat from the back of your chair.

“Fucking finally, I’m out this bitch,”You mutter in a whisper to yourself, stepping out the office and turning to lock the door. In tip-toed steps to quiet the clacks of your heels in the hallway, you reach a few doors down to slide in the documents and signature sheets in a plastic wall file holder. Now, walking in the opposite direction, you head towards the entrance of the building. While the steps of your heels echoed, you swung the oversized wool trench coat around the back of your body to stuff your arms in the sleeves. At the sight of your own red blazer and form fitting skirt, an involuntary huff resonates from within as you recall Leon’s stare upon your outfit, his sly remark and odd begrudging attitude when he first notices your attire.

“Dude’s weird…”

You simply shrug, tightening the sash to keep your oversize coat wrapped around your body as you brace to trudge cautiously in this godforsaken weather. Upon opening the entrance door of the building, the penetrating cold immediately stings your skin. Among the rows of cars in the parking lot of the building, you instantly locate your car that was slightly covered in flurries. Your baby- a cherry colored 1986 Nissan 300zx with turbo and T-tops that was bestowed to you as a parting gift from your father. This car was a part of your life since childhood, the memories of riding in the passenger seat while the t-tops were off impeded as staple moments you cherished.

Around the parked cars of the parking lot, you scurry towards your car, nearly slipping the process. Once inside your car, you turn the ignition on with the turn of your key, allowing the car to warm up. Thoughts of Leon invade your mind once more as you rest back on the driver's seat. During the session, you notice his attempted subtle glances and him anatomizing your figure. While Leon was fairly attractive, you hope this was not a recurring thing in future sessions, or he might have to be referred to another therapist. Violating boundaries and etiquette as a therapist could cost your career, and all the endeavors you endured in the past would be in vain for a man. ‘Not fucking worth it.’

With that last thought, you shift the gear into drive, steering the car cautiously out the parking lot of the USSTRATCOM headquarters to proceed home. Through desolate roads, you navigate in ceaseless fall of sleet during nighttime, ultimately arriving an hour later in front of an old Victorian house. Once your car is parked on the side of the street, you venture towards the entrance of the house from your car.

The Victorian house was renovated into two apartments, the upstairs and downstairs into their own sections. Along with a roommate, you rented the upstairs section of the house that consisted of two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small living room and kitchen.

With your belongings in hand, you unlock the door to your upstairs apartment, making your entrance known to your roommate.

“Daddy’s home!”You holler upon opening the front door in amusement.

From the kitchen, a head peeped out to reveal your roommate, a 19 year old Mexican kid from California, Mateo. At this point of living six months with him, he became like a little brother to you, although you never understood why a profound kid like him lived in this city.

His caramel colored eyes peered from behind the wall, narrowing at you across the room before he visibly rolled his eyes. Mateo steps from the kitchen, clearly shaking his head at you as he glances disappointedly at your attire,”Ay pendeja, there you again, wearing a skirt in the middle of winter…” he exhales, walking towards you at the entrance.

In response to him, you shut the front door with a sly grin, loosening the sash of your wool trench coat to further reveal your attire. “Hey! I already had a new client today ogle at my outfit today! I don’t need you to say something…” You protest, walking past Mateo to set your belongings down on the couch in the living room.

A snicker can be heard from Mateo as he strides by your side,”Oh, they assigned you a new client today? And they were looking at your outfit?”He questions, crossing his arms.

You nod, sighing in the process,”Yeah, they assigned a new client today on short notice, but I don't mind having new cases. Just this new client… he kept glancing at me during the session with this certain gaze. I don’t want to already form an impression based on the first intake session of a client, but I don’t know. And my friend who is a colleague of his recommended me…”

While Mateo was intrigued by this revelation, he raised his eyebrows at you,”Oh, well is he cute?”He asks with a grin on his face, obviously to fuck with you.

There was a momentary pause from you as you huff in annoyance,”Well yes, he is extremely cute…but I don’t want to think about a client in that way,” You continue, providing a playful glare to the brunet beside you.

“What’s his name?” Mateo inquires again, resulting in your eyes to narrow at him in suspicion.

“Leon,”You simply answer, unsure where he was going with this conversation.

“Oh shit, his name sounds hot. What does he look like?” He chuckles with a cunning smile.

A perplexed expression forms on your face, shaking your head to his inquiry about your attractive client. At this moment, you kick off your heels before you plunge onto the couch despite wearing your work attire, allowing the cushions of the couch to engulf your body into a state of ease. “Mateo… I was trying to describe my day at work to you, not for you to devise a plan to fuck my client. I know you, Mateo. The dude seems broken enough,”You relent, peering at Mateo from the couch.

From Mateo, an audible gasp escapes his mouth followed by a guilty grin,”Me? I would never… Anyways… I have something you might like but you wanna come home all snarky.”

You instantly prop yourself on your elbows while laying back on the couch,”Aww, you got me something? Show me!” You demand, watching Mateo briefly leave the side of the couch before returning by your side to gently smack your face with a plastic cover. As stunned as you were, your eyesight instantly unblurs to reveal the hard case cover for Halo 2, directly in your face.

With a drop of your mouth, you direct your attention up to Mateo as he stands beside you while you lay the couch,”No fucking way, you bought me the new Halo?”

Mateo retracts the game case from your face while he smiles proudly at your reaction,”Yes! I was thinking we would invite the guys over after work on Friday for a little party… Do you have anything planned for Friday night?” He asks curiously.

A seething sound emits from your mouth as you recall plans for Friday night,”Damn, I promised Hunnigan I’d join her for some late night bingo,” You inform Mateo, forming a pout on your lips.

To your answer, Mateo merely shrugs while waving the game case with his hand as if he was enticing you,”It’s your call, or you can get your little bingo dauber and bet money you will no doubt lose,” He expresses with smugness.

You pout, contemplating how you will spend your Friday night,”But I want to spend time with my girl, Hunnigan… Fine, I will reschedule with her for a dinner date or something…Only because I want to beat ass in that game!”You huff, raising yourself from the cushions of the couch to sit up.

By leaning over the other side of the couch, your hand reaches inside your purse to pull out a pink Motorola flip phone. Upon flipping the phone open, you immediately press buttons to dial the phone number of Hunnigan. Several rings pass until you hear a familiar feminine voice,”Hey, are you okay?” Her voice responds. A guilty sensation blooms in your chest, you were timid to cancel plans with her. Seconds pass by, you seem to have paused longer than you should.

“Are you calling about Leon? Did the session go okay with him?” Hunnigan then asks on her end, her voice consisting of a slight concern.

“Ah no, it’s not about that. Something actually came up on Friday… I was wondering if I can join you for bingo another time…” You finally answer in a nervous tone.

A light giggle can be heard through the phone,”It’s fine, we can schedule another bingo date some other time.”

You sigh in relief, clutching the cell phone to your ear,”Sweet, maybe a dinner date in the city? It’ll be my treat…”

“Definitely…Well, I have to be at the headquarters building early in the morning. Let’s speak later about it another time,” Hunnigan then gently remarks.

“Sounds good! Goodnight, Hunnigan!” You beamed before ending the call, clamping the flip phone shut. With a cheesy grin, you whirl your torso to Mateo, who is leaning against the couch,”She was okay with it…so party on Friday? Maybe we can make it a recurring thing on the weekends with the guys…” You suggest while nodding.

Mateo chuckled at your proposal,”Maybe…” he simply states.

A smile formed on your lips now that there was something to look forward to on the weekends. However, you would have to persevere through the remaining days of the week, especially with the last client on Friday.

#leon kennedy #re4 leon #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x fem reader #resident evil 4 remake #female reader #within session #ingrid hunnigan #resident evil 4 #ada wong

73 notes · View notes

navree · 1 year

Note

“Haven't touched on everything I could talk about with Aegon; there's some sex stuff I've alluded to in previous posts that I almost included here but this is already long and it's an incredibly niche reading of the character, but if y'all wanna hear it lemme know.”

Yes please 🙏

I also remember reading some tags you wrote about him flinching on that “most pathetic moments” post or something like that.

So, as I said, niche reading of the character, but they appear to have unintentionally written him as someone who has a lot of trouble with physical intimacy. Which I find such a fascinating detail because it appears to have been entirely unintentional on their part and done in an episode that was largely meant to make us think "wow doesn't Aegon suck?" and instead I'm left thinking "I think Aegon has a lot more issues than they even decided on."

I unfortunately can't find the post, but I do remember that tag, and yeah, when Jace touches his shoulder during his toast (after he realizes that Aemond will beat his ass), Aegon very clearly jumps and/or flinches, which isn't a normal reaction one has to the person they're talking to patting them on the shoulder. So it's a general touch thing, for one, especially since the prior two episodes we saw him in saw that Alicent could kinda rough handle him at times. I'll go to my grave fighting the "Alicent is an abusive mother" crowing from people who have the apparent mental capacity of a frog but even still, that stuff happened, even if it makes sense (medieval society with different standards on childrearing and also one of the only two times that happened was when Aemond had literally just lost a whole eye and she was incredibly distressed). So there's already that to make the case that Aegon doesn't seem to be someone who enjoys being touched. And I'll admit that this can be chalked up to acting choices more than writing choices, that TGC likely made choices about Aegon's comfort level with being touched and that how physical Alicent would get with certain scenes would likely be more discussed between Olivia and Ty than in the script.

But here's the thing: they've also clearly and deliberately stated in the writing that Aegon has to be absolutely plastered, completely black out drunk, to have any kind of sexual interaction at all. Helaena says it explicitly, he completely ignores her as it relates to their maritals "unless he's drunk", he was so inebriated during the assault on Dyana that he straight up doesn't remember it, and even on Driftmark he's getting himself tanked before he goes to leer at serving girls (as well as telling Aemond that the way to get through an unpleasant experience like the dinner with the Blacks is to drink a lot). This is someone they've confirmably written as a person who is doing a lot of self medicating before engaging in sexual intimacy. And that's an important detail to mark when Aegon is married to his sister.

One of the reasons why Targaryen inter-marriage doesn't seem to have been that big an issue for most of the Targaryens even in their own thoughts is because it doesn't seem like they were raised to socialize with their siblings as siblings, but rather as potential romantic and sexual partners. I won't get into a whole thing about exactly why incest is bad, that's a long and very complicated topic and we all know that incest is, in fact, bad, but one of the main components into why it's Wrong is because that's a member of your family, which is a very specific kind of relationship (it's why some writers like to use it as a shocking plot twist *coughCassieClarecough*, because of the immediate sense of wrongness that sets in once you realize someone you've engaged with romantically/sexually is related to you). Targaryens don't do that, members of the family are clearly raised to view siblings not as siblings, but as a future wife or future husband, Dany herself says it in the main series when she ruminates on how she'd just naturally expected to marry Viserys, though that was complicated by the fact that Viserys wasn't just her brother but also operating as both parent and guardian and bodyguard all in one as well as being her brother. But Alicent's kids aren't following that mold. They do view each other through a familial lens, and it is reinforced by their mother that they are family, that they are siblings, and they were in all likelihood raised via more traditional sibling socialization, not Targaryen ones.

So Aegon is marrying someone he doesn't want to marry, someone he has spent his life viewing as his actual sister, and we have no reason to believe this didn't happen pretty soon after the betrothal (let's assume it's a year afterwards and Helaena's around thirteen while Aegon is around fourteen, that's normal marriageable ages in Westeros). Not to mention Aegon appears to follow the Faith of the Seven somewhat loyally, he also partakes in prayer at the family dinner and as I've said previously, he literally hides out in a sept under the altar of the Mother in a time of crisis (the symbolism, I cry), and we know the Faith holds incest to be an abomination. So you have all of that baggage, and then you add in all that alcoholism talk AND all those other statements? Then yeah, they've essentially written Aegon as someone who not only might dislike physical contact in general, but specifically needs to be inebriated to the point of passing out in order to stand any sexual contact or intimacy at all. And yet we still know he's done it, he has kids, and wow gosh this kinda reminds me of Alicent isn't that odd?

I don't think it was done on purpose, I think TGC and Olivia and Ty made some acting choices (and TGC especially likes to play up Aegon's poor little meow meow status so I assume a concept of Aegon not liking being touched was something he'd have in his wheelhouse), and the writers really wanted to get across that Aegon is a drunken lech, but the way they did it and the baggage of all the other stuff we've seen in the show, like how these kids were raised, means that, well, yeah. Aegon reads as a character who dislikes being touched, and has a pathological desperation to self-medicate before he sexually performs, especially with his sister to whom he is married.

And it's an interesting area to play around in, not only in his specific relationship to Helaena (that's a whole trove of stuff they can delve into, especially after Blood and Cheese), but also in his relationship to other people, his bond with Sunfyre, his relationship with his kids, how it might be compounded or mutate or otherwise develop after he's injured in the war. Again, I don't think it was intentional, that's just how I see it when I look at it, but if they want to lean into it and add intentionality and do stuff with it, they could, and I think it could be very good character work.

#personal #answered #anonymous #yeah see at first i was a bit leery of the 'except for when he's drunk' remark i was like 'huh that reads a bit....huh.'#and then you look at all the backstory and all of that stuff and everything else they've set up #and tgc flinching in that scene which is just #you didn't need to do that man now touch repulsed aegon is canon #oh eggo you got issues :( sorry boo :(

9 notes · View notes

llycaons · 1 year

Text

ep6: oh shit, there’s women in this show!

the fact that nhs knocks with a secret code. lmao

every single time I see this scene I have the same thought and its ‘jc tells wwx to stop being gay for alcohol’ because that’s what wwx is doing here metaphorically

I LOVE when they’re all scrambling here and wwx crosses his legs and fixes his hair

mind-control talisman must be insanely powerful to work on lwj so it must have some kind of constraints, like it’s not a total mind control, the subject has to be caught off-guard, etc. I like to think wwx realized how unethical it was after this and destroyed it but it’s a very strong magic spell to just drop and never mention again (LIKE TIME-STOPPING)

cut-sleeve? is this an intentional nod? it seems deliberate enough. is wwx in-universe testing the waters? he seems to think lwj is straight later on

THIS SHOT. SO CUTE

how he says wife...

I think lwj def knows he’s gay he’s just resigned to being alone for life because he can’t fathom being allowed to marry anyone but a woman and he doesn’t want to do that obviously. also he’s isolated bc of the autism and reputation... god, this scene is so sad

I didn’t realize this happened so early in the series! it’s so cute!

wcz is wearing jiang purple

this kid is SO well cast, he looks so similar to wwx esp around the eyes

lwj’s posture is killing me he is so fucking funny drunk

this set is SO pretty

this scene REALLY jumped out to me on my first watch - wwx sees lwj not bend and is determined to match him. not to be outdone

HE IMMEDIATELY STARTS PLAYING UP HIS WOUNDS WHEN THEY MEET WITH LXC. god wwx is such a delight

aww, lxc. nobody else would talk about him to his mother. this is so kind bc obviously it means a lot to him

actually I think wwx is perfectly within his rights to be annoyed that lqr treats him differently based on something his mom did. come on, lxc!

SHOE FLYING AWAY. THERE IT GOES. LOVE THAT MOMENT

at this point I think wwx has a crush but he also just wants to be friends so if lwj isn’t interested in him that way (and at this point he def thinks lwj is straight) he still wants to hang out. I don’t think he expects his feelings to be very strong and in fact, in the future I read him as avoidant and scared of his feelings precisely because they’re more powerful than he knows what to do with. but for now it’s just a crush that he thinks he’s okay with not going anywhere as long as they get to hang out

lwj’s hair is so pretty here. this shot of wwx does make me laugh

hm. this means nothing to me. they’re not at a point yet where it means anything to them either and it was done just to protect wwx so *shrug*

wwx sheepishly getting off the ancestral table and then makinh gestures to dust it off is so fucking funny he has so much personality and charm

ik this is supposed to be a romantic moment but the guy looks so head empty. nothing going on behind those eyes. what do they brits say? gormless? he’s gormless

that post like ‘he becomes excited and deferential at the sight of a lesbian’ very true.

lwj doesn’t interact with many women throughout the show but he’s always very polite to them. probably still misogynistic, as every man is in this series is, but arguably less so than wwx (calls jl a mistress to demean him) and jc (has that stupid list of ideal wife qualities, genuinely tried to marry wq away from her family). he clearly respects ly a lot as his elder and I would love to have seen more interactions between him and other women.

heyyy demon subdue palace

ly being the only female leader of a very conservative and patriarchal sect is so fascinating honestly. would love to see more of her

also the rabbits with headbands might be dumb, but I think they’re cute

every single thing ly says also applies to wwx. the show hitting you over the head with parallels: DO YOU SEE HOW WWX AND LAN YI ARE SIMILAR. DO YOU SEE IT?!

I fucking love parallels. they made those women lesbians together

personal highlights:

lwj slouched over when drunk

wwx playing up his wounds when they see lxc

that shoe flying into the pond

wwx making a show of dusting off the table he was sitting on

#cql re-rewatch #SQUEEZED IT IN

5 notes · View notes

n7viper · 2 years

Note

5, 8, 13 Shakarian & 22, 30, 37, 43 & 50 Mihren for OTP asks please 🥰

Random OTP Askerinos

This ended up being a longer post than intended, so I'm putting it under a cut :)

5. Who is louder in bed?

Lia! You'd think she would learn to be a little quieter after serving on ships for so long but... no. But that's fine because it gives him a chance to cover her mouth and keep her quiet :)

8. Who causes the tomfoolery and who has to try and stop the tomfoolery?

Oho! You're subverting expectations to ask about the other ship, I see. (Because you know the Mihren answer) For Lia and Garrus, I'd say they're equally as likely to cause tomfoolery that requires a third party to stop it. Lia is normally pretty straight-laced and doesn't tend to get into trouble, but they're both just horrible influences on each other.

13. Would they hate-fuck if they were mad at one another? If they had a falling out?

Honestly, I don't think so. I could see Lia being tempted to, but Garrus doesn't seem like the type to me.

Mihren (is that then canon name now? lol):

22. Who would be a lovey dovey drunk?

I really immediately thought of Cullen, but this might actually be Mihri too now that I think about it some more. So both of them? She wouldn't consistently be more lovey dovey, she's definitely usually just even hornier than normal.

But when they're drunk and alone? More than a few times, she thinks about everything that has happened to them and has to take a moment before she gets teary-eyed about it all. She's settling down. It feels... comforting. They make such an odd couple, but it doesn't matter. They're in love. (Gross 🤮)

30. Who is older, and who makes the ‘older’ jokes?

Cullen is older by about 5 years but acts like it's by 20. Mihri only really teases him about it when he's being especially grumpy and knows that it'll annoy him.

37. When the person who doesn’t normally have nightmares, has a nightmare, how does the other comfort them?

In general, Mihri doesn’t really start getting severe nightmares until after In Hushed Whispers. Even before then, she and Cullen don’t get together until early Skyhold and don’t sleep together until after Halamshiral (done before Adamant).

This isn’t an OTP answer, but let’s take a quick intermission. This reminded me of a hc I’ve had for a while, so I’ll let you have it. Mihri and Cassandra usually share a tent while traveling. There are many times where Cass has to comfort Mihri after a nightmare. Cass is kinda awkward about it, but she does try. It takes several occurrences before Mihri finally breaks down and admits that she’s haunted by what happened in that dark future and watching Cass and the others die to save her. Ok, back to our regularly scheduled OTP hours now.

Cullen usually pulls Mihri closer to his chest, and she usually turns to face him. Even if she doesn’t, he massages her scalp and runs his fingers through her hair the way she likes it. If it’s a nightmare that causes the anchor to flare, he holds her hand. He always asks if she’d like to talk about it, but she usually declines. It’s pretty much always a lot of bear hugging, forehead kisses, and fingers through her hair.

43. How do they say ‘I love you’ without actually saying it? Ex “Have you drank any water today?”

Honestly, Cullen just strikes me as a words of affirmation kind of guy. He's the type to drive you bonkers because he's just constantly saying it, to the point where it feels like it's lost its meaning. So not much to say on that front.

For Mihri, she shows her love through gifts; little trinkets that she picks up on her travels that she says reminds her of him. She shows love with meals sent to his office, through pulling him away from his desk late in the night so that he can finally sleep. Most of all, she says it by being honest with him and not putting up a front like she does with everyone else.

50. Who is more likely to cling to the other while they sleep?

I already answered this here, but I'm obsessed with the fact that three separate people asked me this. I am so soft 🥺

#supply chain is really wild rn huh #even the lead times on ask answers is delayed #also I answered half of these in the middle of a concert so just picture that #I had to sit through a Hated Band to get to a Beloved Band #enjoy your Shakarian tasties :)#they need an OTP tag soon #lia tag #mihri tag #long post #whoops #ask game answers #mihren

3 notes · View notes

lovecolibri · 2 years

Note

SaL anon here friend and it looks like you were as pleasantly surprised by last night's episodes as I was! Of course there was too much L (and will be until she's gone at the season's end) but the fact all her scenes got butchered is just hilarious. Instead, they made room for some truly delightful Henren detective shenanigans, Eddie and May as besties, Chim bring back where he belongs (mostly), and the reminder that even with characters we have no connection too 911 can deliver some truly TBC

devastating rescues that will emotionally wreck you (I feel like it's been awhile since we've seen one and its a shame because this is a wee woo show and it's part of what makes it tick). Also you're right, Ryan would have nailed a heartbreaking version of "You Are My Sunshine", but as an alternative may I suggest Can't Smile Without You? On top of that LS was an joy, and I absolutely want a future episode to have Grace and Carlos wine-drunk and bitching about their husbands.

Our PR friend appears to be looking out for us by reminding us to keep our expectations in the ground and allowing us to be pleasantly surprised! I agree that any L is too much L (especially with her sitting in Buck and Eddie's usual seating configurations), and her moments we do see continue to be things that would work better with other characters. The firetruck scene and everyone talking about youth would have played better with one mostly younger person like Ravi around, plus seeing him and Buck competing to find the car first would have been fun, and the reality TV set was the PERFECT place for Chimney to be (and Eddie 😭 when is he coming HOME?!), and he for sure would have had some delightful commentary instead of putting down the institution of marriage as a whole to a group of people who are all either married or want to be 🙄 (*Chandler Bing voice* could she BE any more of an "I'm not like other girls" character?!) But I find the fact that they literally cut everything they possibly could, to the point that you could clearly see that the scenes in the firetruck were edited to remove her moments hilarious because they would rather have the editing looking a little awkward and disjointed, than leave in scenes of her “bonding” with the team and “poking” at Buck. 🤣🤣🤣 But honestly thank goodness for the editing team. A young woman was having her face melted off on a livestream and they had already wasted a ton of time just trying to figure out the general area where she might be! It was not the time to have them making a “fun” competition about who found the car first, or who got to use the drill to get into the house, same with whatever they had planned for those 2 minutes they disappeared into a dark tunnel together while a woman was planning to say her final goodbye to her kids. None of that fit the tone of those moments! It did make that sauna call a little weird because there was SO much set up, only for the actual rescue part to be over almost immediately, but the fact that nearly the ENITRE scene that was used in the majority of the stills got cut makes me giggle, and then they deleted their watch post on Instagram that had her and I downright cackled, because I’m a petty bench.

And what did we get in return for those missing moments? We got SO MUCH good Karen content!! Every single moment with her and Hen was GOLD and they deserved to have some fun, free, lighthearted shenanigans for once! Plus the actresses play off each other so well, and they just sparkle together. Truly something to add to the blessings pile in this very mixed bag of a season and I can’t wait for their vow renewal!

Eddie and May are SUCH an unexpected delight and I’m going to miss it when Eddie goes home to the 118 and May goes off to college (very likely, so the actress can focus on her college studies!). I hope they don’t entirely abandon that dynamic (or his with Linda) when he’s out of dispatch because it’s truly been so much fun. (It’s also proof that there are enough characters who don’t interact that they don’t need new ones to shake things up and keep the dynamics fresh, but that’s a whole other post)

We also got so much good Chim content! We got sunglasses Chim being so funny in the truck, grossed out Chim at the sauna call, we got Chim (and Hen!) on the ropes which is rare, Certified Dad Chim with Maddie and Jee’s baby box/first time using the spoon herself, and of course he was perfect on that tragic call (as was Bobby) making sure the girls had their dad. We also got some good Maddie/Madney/Buckley siblings content and I can feel the “second (or is it third?) first date” for Madney coming soooon!

911 doesn’t often have tragic calls but when they do, whooo boy they utalize them to their fullest effect! The music, the mom’s talk to her girls, the flipping “mom doesn’t need them anymore” line from the oldest sister? 😭😭😭 It was all done SO well, and showed Chim and Bobby especially taking charge in all the right ways that case needed to be handled. Bobby being the calm one staying behind to watch the girls, Chim making the decision the dad needed to be the one to talk to the kids and that they would load the mom up like they normally would, and them letting the girls wear their helmets and keeping them busy in the firetruck while Chim contacted their dad himself, it was all just so beautifully done and absolutely strikes at the heart of the show which has been so hit or miss this season. But when they are good, man, they are good.

Lone Star may be what it will be with regards to Owen, but this episode was an absolute DELIGHT! The Ryder family drama with Uncle Dave was SO much fun, and TK and Carlos getting to have a totally whimsical, fun, and funny plot was so, so, so refreshing! They have earned this lighthearted moment and it was a JOY to watch. I too need to see Grace and Carlos getting wine drunk and bitching about the strays their husbands keep around for too long! 🤣

I know this is our anniversary week and I was hoping to put together a masterlist of our posts but a whole week of being ill last week and recovering this first part of the week have put me a bit behind, but I’m sure you’ve got something for later this week so I look forward to that!

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 #911 spoilers #anti lucy donato #911 lone star #lone star spoilers #this is my third attempt at this post because tumblr hates me #i had to save this as a draft and not use the new post editor format because my screen kept randomly going white #and then i couldn't do anything until i refreshed the page and that deletes the draft #i also kept a copy in a word document just in case #and then i had to cut a whole ramble about L that's going to be it's own post #but i did it today like i promised!#and next week is may day which i think is going to be THEE serve of the season for the main cast as a whole #we've gotten some great eddie stuff but aside from some madney/maddie stuff everyone else is just kinda...there #so it will be good to see everyone involved and getting their redemption moment #i can't wait!

2 notes · View notes

liesoverthec · 3 years

Text

OG 911 Character Details from Canon Pt 1

Hi folks! Welcome to my post of character details for fic writers or really anyone who wants to know! All of these details come directly from the show - they’re just things I picked up on watching the show on intense repeat for screen time, so the details are about as canon as they can get. Some of them, like addresses, come from an specific episode, while others are trends I’ve picked up on. If you want a “citation” for a fact let me know and I can provide one if it exists!

I tried to include a good range of information between the 7 main characters, so that it was available for anyone.

I’m going to keep making these posts every time I get enough details collected so you can find them all under “911 canon character details” in the future! I’m committed to rewatching the whole series again for the regulars’ screen time, so I’ll be making more of these posts throughout the summer. If there’s something in particular you’d like to know, let me know and I can keep an eye out for it.

Things I noticed that might be interesting character details, part 1:

Athena and Bobby live at 1810 Fallsgrove St.

Eddie lives at 4995 S Bedford St Apt 403 (Julia made this fantastic post of the layout of Eddie’s house, and I’ve spent my own significant amount of time trying to work it out, so when I say this layout is spot on, I really mean it). (I believe this is more of a duplex situation - ie he has other neighbors attached to his outside walls, but no downstairs or upstairs neighbors.)

(These two locations are 8 minutes apart, which I personally thought was vvvvvv useful if you wanted to have someone rush from one place to another - also makes me think the 118 would be close to that neighborhood.)

Chim and Maddie live in apartment 2B. It’s a one-bedroom apartment, so currently Jee-Yun is sleeping in their room with them. I’ll be curious to know if they move as she gets older or if they magically spring up a bedroom for her - I just know there isn’t one at the moment bc Albert slept on their couch first, and then when he was injured, THEY slept on the couch.

Buck has two bathrooms! There’s one immediately to the left as you walk in his front door, and then one up in the loft, off the platform. Which I thought was a large number of bathrooms for a loft since it’s such a small space, but useful for when Christopher is visiting I suppose...

The hospital they go to for personal stuff is First Presbyterian. They’ve only started featuring its name prominently this season, but it’s the same waiting room and ER they’ve been using since s2, so I’d assume it’s also in the same neighborhood, since it’s fictional.) It’s on Altamont Street.

Given that you can see the Cecil Hotel from Michael’s apartment, I’d assume he either lives on S Spring St or S Los Angeles St. Either way he’s about twice as far from Athena and Bobby as Eddie is, and in the opposite direction.

Alcohol preferences - Athena prefers white wine, but will also drink rose and red, Hen drinks red and beer but doesn’t do it socially as much as everyone else, Chim is p much strictly beer unless it’s a fancy dinner (or tequila if he really wants to get drunk), Maddie prefers white wine, Buck drinks beer or white wine, and Eddie is a beer dude, red wine if it’s a fancy occasion (this is what they choose if they have a choice like at a bar, or if they’re hosting - eg when Athena hosts, EVERYONE drinks white because that’s what she’d choose.)

Eddie does not have the Hildy coffee maker on his kitchen counter - he still has an older model that only makes coffee.

He also likes to decorate in the color turquoise! (Maybe Shannon liked turquoise so that’s what he tends to buy?? That’s your decision, there’s just a lot of it in his kitchen. Also, his laptop case is turquoise!)

Hen gets a new pair of glasses every year. (Which means she’s doing better than me, I only get a new pair when I lose the old ones 😂)

Athena has two big diamond rings, and she wears one on each of her ring fingers (Bobby has good taste). She does not wear her rings while working.

Bobby has a gold wedding band for home, and wears a black silicone ring at work.

Hen wears her wedding ring all the time, and it’s a plain silver band.

Eddie had a gold wedding band while he was married to Shannon, and he wore it while on active duty in the Army (even during the helicopter crash). He is wearing it after Shannon leaves, but he takes it off before he comes to LA. His St. Christopher’s medal is silver with a navy border, hanging on a silver chain.

Chim prefers the short sleeve uniform. He really never wears the long sleeved one.

Eddie likes soft jazz, and will play it in the background during dinner. Idk if it’s his favorite type of music, but he likes it enough to put it on.

Buck has a picture of the ocean (I think? it’s definitely some sort of landscape) in his work locker - no other photos currently. Eddie has also been seen using this same locker.

Everyone has an iPhone and if they have a computer, it’s a Mac (this one is just bc capitalism - the show is sponsored by Apple). Hen has a red phone case, and Maddie has a navy one with gold trim, everyone else’s is super boring black/navy.

Maddie’s contact for Chim is “Howie” in her phone.

In Eddie’s phone, his contact for Buck is just “Buck”.

Bobby is just “Bobby” in Buck’s phone.

Christopher’s current interests are space and dinosaurs. And gaming!

In addition to Eddie and Albert, Chim also seems to like baseball, going off the jersey on his wall.

Every time we’ve seen Buck and Eddie drive somewhere together, Buck has driven and Eddie took the passenger seat.

Both Eddie and the Wilsons have a fireplace in their living room with framed photos of their kids at various ages.

Karen is a doctor! It’s a PhD, so she couldn’t join the team as a medic, but it does make them the future Drs Wilson. Her specialization is something to do w/ physics or chemistry etc, b/c she worked on a project for JPL on Mars, so you can run with that.

Michael is an architect, and David is a neurosurgeon who can help with emergency medicine.

Work masks: Bobby, Maddie and Athena prefer masks with a loop over each ear, while Eddie, Chim, Buck and Hen use the ones with two straps behind the head. Everyone uses the two ear loop ones for personal time.

Buck sleeps with socks on.

I hope the start to this list met up to your expectations, but if you’re looking for more then it will be on the way soon! I just wanted to get this first set out (plus it was looking a little long in my drafts 😂)

Lots of love!

🐝

Tagging: @imaginebuck

#911 fox #9-1-1 #911 on fox #911 canon character details #athena grant #bobby nash #maddie buckley #evan buckley #hen wilson #chimney han #eddie diaz #buddie #bathena #madney #henren #userac #alcohol

610 notes · View notes

dumbfuck-mojave · 2 years

Text

Randy Meeks Emoji Headcanons

(Headcanon list used here.)

Franchise: Scream

Pairing: Randy Meeks x Reader, but barely?? Mainly just general heacanons but I directly reference the reader a few times

Also Featured: OG Scream characters all implied, Tatum Riley is the only one mentioned by name.

Warnings: Mentions of food, being drunk and poor mental health. That’s really it, this is a casual post because most of my headcanons about him are in my WIP but I still made it presentable. Oh also swearing, as expected.

A/N: I popped these out quick huh lol. Anyways, still working on my big headcanon list, which includes Randy, but my Derek Feldman fic will probably be out first sorry y’all. Happy Scream 6 confirmation day!

Word Count: 1,132

@novatheghostfaceapologist @thirsting4slashers @highonbandcandy *kisses u*

☾ - sleep headcanon

HATES BEING WOKEN UP let him sleep.

Will literally look like this after being woken up:

He usually only dreams in bouts, and if they aren’t brought up because of something specific they’re the weirdest things imaginable. Actually thought something was wrong with him as a kid.

★ - sad headcanon

Man I don’t want to write sad stuff for him :(.

Has very fluctuating and bad mental health, it’s been like that for years and he doesn’t like therapists because it’s awkward.

Feels like he’s a burden and has trouble expressing emotions well so he just holds it in.

☆ - happy headcanon

His smiles are so nice. Not like the small smiles or the teasing smiles, the full “I’m genuinely happy” smiles. They’re some of the best you’ll ever experience.

Once he starts laughing, he has trouble stopping. Tears, wheezing, hunched over, the whole deal. If you want him to suffer (affectionately), keep egging him on. It hurts a little, but it’s a good hurt and a good memory being made.

Has squeaked before when he got excited.

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

Why would you want to make him angry, you big meanie.

Doesn’t get angry that often. Annoyed, sure, but genuinely anger he’s pretty good at calming himself down from.

Gets REALLY red. Overheats easily.

If he’s genuinely angry, it’s lowkey scary because his voice has power behind it, no matter how loud he is.

Arguing makes him cry. It also makes his voice crack.

It’ll make you feel bad, as it should.

✿ - Sex headcanon

^ That’s a joke but I’m not doing this lol.

The only ones I can think of that could relate to this are that his whole torso is sensitive, specifically his stomach, and he likes to be close to people he feels affection for.

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

His room is organized and messy at the same time.

Has a fuck ton of merchandise, not only for horror properties but for other things. Even if horror is the main interest he collects for.

SHELVES SHELVES SHELVES SO MANY SHELVES. They’re all filled with stuff.

His room is dark blue and there’s weirdly fitting plaid curtains on the window, which faces the street.

There’s a desk, a cabinet with a TV and VHS/console storage, and several bookshelves.

Is upstairs.

Walk-in closet, but not a big one.

Posters everywhere.

Oh yeah back to that desk it’s covered with shit that’s the only truly messy part of his room.

♡ - romantic headcanon

A great boyfriend I’m screaming.

Is super attentive and will remember everything you tell him.

Always checking in and making sure you’re comfortable.

He loves watching movies but with a romantic partner specifically TV shows are the way to go because he likes cuddling and that gives more time to cuddle.

Thus he chooses the shows with the most seasons but are still enjoyable.

Likes quick kisses/pecks.

10/10 take home to your parents/family.

Doesn’t have a type just be nice to him.

I feeling like I’m forgetting something but I’m sure I’ll do a strictly romantic headcanon post in the future sooo.

♥ - family headcanon

Is really close to all his family, both immediate and extended.

Closest to his sister, but also loves to hang out with his cousins.

Doesn’t really know what to do with babies but he thinks they’re cute.

Has this one specific aunt, single and rich, who all the cousins know they’ll get money from so they all suck up to lol.

Is socially awkward but can make decent conversation with a new boyfriend/girlfriend during their first time meeting the family. Especially if they like horror.

Considers his friends his family as well and would always drag them to family events. ALL of his friends.

☮ - friendship headcanon

A great friend awww.

Like I just said, his friends are his family so expect to be brought into things constantly.

He does respect boundaries though and knows people need time to recharge.

Your interests are his interests. Even if he isn’t interested himself in them, he loves listening to people talk about what they love.

Will also be on the lookout or anything related to your interest and will partake in events like new drops, those types of things you know.

Waiting in line for a book release he’s with you bro.

Likes video games, both playing and watching people play so it’s perfect.

Really good at comforting people.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Horror, obviously. Mainly horror movies but he appreciates comics and games.

Also likes movies in general it’s canon so.

Cracks his knuckles loud as fuck without meaning to.

Fidgets constantly with his hands. Picks and bites his fingers.

Hums to himself constantly.

Is a pretty good artist and writer, wants to fully write and direct a horror movie one day and he has the skills dude.

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

Honestly, a pretty chill dude who can go with the flow.

Just don’t be an awful person. He can even deal with very obvious flaws because he gets invested in people super quickly.

Has good judgment besides that so if he doesn’t like you figure out why immediately.

▼ - childhood headcanon

Had a pretty good childhood. They weren’t doing things CONSTANTLY but they did do a good deal of things and they were always spectacular.

Was his goal to get one memento from all the places he went to, something made him leave in a hurry one time but his dad went back to the place and got him a snowglobe afterwards.

Loved going to lakes and amusement parks specifically.

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

Doesn’t change that much honestly lmao.

Still kinda looks like a skater. But like, a dad skater.

Still activity in his interests and the communities of those interests. Isn’t an asshole prude though, he can discuss civilly.

Old man that pops off with the jokes and will also give you 50 dollars.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Parents made sure he could cook.

So he cooks and he’s really good at it.

Likes making pasta but like, ~advanced~ pasta.

Not just noodles and sauce that shit has onions, garlic, lemon, etc.

Any seasoning he loves.

Loves cooking for friends and first dates, showing off those skills boy.

☼ - appearance headcanon

I mean, we’ve all seen him hopefully lol.

I talk a little about it in my other headcanon list I’m working on but I have two and a half not included in that:

Had his ears pierced at some point. He also blushes to his ears.

Has surprisingly straight and good teeth for all the bullshit he eats. They’re always like that, he’s a wizard and Tatum is jealous.

ൠ - random headcanon

Is a food pit when he’s sober. Will not stop eating, will eat your entire kitchen do not let him loose.

On the other hand, can barely stomach anything when drunk. He has to eat small portions spaced out or he will get sick.

Likes the color pink.

Favorite season is spring.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing

No other question, just closing thoughts.

I love him.

Thank you.

114 notes · View notes

lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

Body Shots (Pierre Gasly)

Inspired by (and beta read) by the amazing @limp-wrist-max thank you Mea!

Masterlist

Word count: 3.5k

Recommended song: “Lucky You” by Sim Dane

Vacationing in Milan had its perks. Fine dining, luxury stores that were prime for window shopping, and the proximity to your best friend, to name a few.

When you'd touched down in Milan you had had no intentions of visiting Pierre. You had just finished your exams for your summer class and had a week before the next semester started up, so you had simply booked the cheapest ticket and boarded a plane.

The intent had been to have some good wine, good food and unwind. Pierre saw your Instagram story minutes after you posted it and recognized the bakery you stopped at for lunch. And once he found out you were only a few minutes away from that weekend's grand prix, he had ideas that didn't involve you reading a novel all day.

Pierre had insisted that a last minute cancelation by a family friend had left a paddock pass unclaimed and had suggested you take it.

"You're my best friend, it'll be fun to have you experience a weekend through my eyes for once instead of sitting in the stands. Come visit me."

Something in the inflection of his voice made the simple request rub you raw. He missed you. It had been months since your last get together and you couldn't blame him. The last year had been rough for him and he rarely had anyone physically at his side to help him through it.

Inviting you instead of one of his parents was about more than your current proximity to the track. He hadn't missed a beat in asking you, not hesitating to consider anyone else being with him this weekend.

Your stomach had turned as you climbed in a cab Sunday morning, not out of fear of something going wrong but because of the nagging feeling that something was about to change.

You'd known Pierre since you were kids. Your brother had raced in karting before pursuing another dream, but in the few short years you'd hung around European tracks you had managed to forge a bond with one of your brother's rivals. That friendship carried on regardless of the distance that separated you, kept alive by visits in the off season and once a year trips to the racetrack at Silverstone.

Pierre met you at the gates and you had barely seen him since.

A decent qualifying session saw the Frenchman start P10 on Sunday's race. He didn't hide the fact that he was disappointed, but come time for his final meeting with the team you'd never guess he was anything but ecstatic.

You had to be conscious about your mouth hanging open when Pierre stepped into the garage in his fireproofs with his suit half undone. The tuft of blond hair peeking through his backwards cap floats on an invisible breeze and he bounces on his toes. His brow furrows when he is handed a data sheet, listening intently to what the engineer points out.

Butterflies riot in your stomach when Pierre catches you staring and winks. You pray he writes the blush on your cheeks off as the heat and he must, because he raises his eyebrows and flexes a bit.

You laugh to cover the way you want to do nothing but strip him out of that tight fitted white shirt. Your crush was getting out of hand. Pierre's shameless, friendly flirting only escalated matters.

You told yourself it was nothing. He was like this with every girl he met, making a fool of himself to earn a laugh. You were no different, except maybe that you were a constant where most other women only got to enjoy his playful personality for a short time.

You're treated to a few long minutes of watching Pierre prep to climb into the car before he's heading out on track to line up at the grid.

The race starts off fine, Pierre's pace is better than expected. One of the Haas's breaks down at the pit entry and Pierre's strategist decides to bring him in for a fresh set of tires. A kiss seems like the proper reward for their stroke of brilliance, which affords Pierre the advantage when the pits close soon after.

Restarting on lap 28 is nail biting. Hamilton, Stroll, and Pierre make up the podium places. The entire garage gasps when Stroll goes wide at turn four. Hamilton serves his penalty and Pierre inherits the lead. Sainz jumps on the opportunity to attack.

Pierre defends brilliantly until the final lap. The team erupts when he crosses the line first, bringing home the win.

Red, white and green confetti sticks to his skin as he sprays the champagne over all of you. In the heat of it all, Pierre sits on that top step and shakes his head. You already know that the photos of him being snapped from all angles will be gorgeous, the sun shining down on the first French grand prix winner in decades.

A legend in the minds of his people and in yours.

You could scarcely believe it yourself. Your best friend had finally, after years of being pushed down, won a grand prix at the temple of speed. Red Bull had been wrong, just as you'd insisted when Pierre cried over losing his seat and his friend in one weekend. But god, did Pierre rise above it all.

Pierre catches your gaze just before he leaves the podium. A lifetime of emotion swirls around him like an enigma, begging you to find out what it was hiding. Your wave is barely more than a lift of your hand but Pierre notes it nonetheless, tipping his trophy in your direction.

You wait patiently on the sidelines as Pierre poses for pictures with his team on and off the track. His attention constantly falls on you, his grin widening each time he sees you tucked under the arm of an enthusiastic mechanic or crew member. Alpha Tauri was a family and you were an honorary member thanks to your connection to their driver.

An action packed hour of cameras passes before Pierre is able to break away. As soon as he's given the go ahead he passes his trophy off and marching to you. You're both practically running by the time you meet in the middle. You crash into him and he lifts you off your feet in a crushing hug.

"You did it," you whisper, overwhelmed by his success now that you've gotten the chance to celebrate with him. "I'm so proud of you."

Pierre laughs as he sets you on your feet. His smile is wider than you've ever seen it and you're sure his cheeks must be sore.

"Wish they allowed us to bring a friend up there," Pierre says softly, a smile melting into a sly smirk. "Seeing you doused in champagne is an image I wouldn't forget."

You shake your head, caught up in his ceaseless flirting. He had no idea that his honeyed words and gentle touches lit something inside of you, rattling your brain and making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Instead you snatch the black and gold Pirelli cap off his head and place it on your own, earning you a peal of laughter.

"Looks better on you anyway." Pierre runs a hand through his sweaty, champagne doused hair, leaving bits sticking up at odd angles.

Someone calls Pierre's name, far enough away that there's no rush. Pierre's hands remain planted on your waist and yours stay wrapped around his neck. By the way his bright blue eyes bore into yours, you swear he's thinking the same thing you are.

"Thank you for believing in me," he murmurs, gaze falling to your lips.

"I knew it was just a matter of time," you tell him, inching up on your tiptoes. Tempted by his win, you want to ruin the best friendship you've ever had. You want to discover if the lips you spend far too much time dreaming about felt as soft as they looked. You want to know how it feels to be lost in Pierre, newly minted race winner, and find out just how he dealt with the adrenaline and euphoria of his incredible drive.

"Well done mate!"

Max Verstappen startles the two of you apart. You take a healthy step back and drop your gaze to the ground to hide your burning cheeks.

"Thanks." Pierre accepts the Dutchman's embrace and claps him on the back. "Sucks I didn't get to fight you for it."

"There will be more chances in the future. And I didn't expect to see you here, that's a nice surprise." Max knocks you with his shoulder, tipping you off balance. On instinct you latch onto Pierre's arm to steady yourself. You wait a heartbeat too long to remove your hand and both of you find anywhere to look but each other.

"So where's the party?" You ask, searching for a distraction from the way your palm still burns.

"Definitely not at Red Bull." Max shudders and you laugh because that's what you do when someone is being over dramatic. It rings hollow in your ears.

"I hear there's a few guys with adjoining rooms at the hotel who bought plenty of booze," Pierre says. "You and Dan wanna come by?"

"Is that really a question?" Max grins, already typing out a text as Pierre feeds him the details.

**********

"You should do body shots," Max suggests, which earns a roaring laugh from Daniel and a half hearted one from Pierre.

"I don't think so," Pierre says, "there's no one here I trust enough to let that happen."

"Not even your best friend?" Max gestures to you and shoots you a wink when Pierre glances over. "I think she's trustworthy."

"No thanks." Pierre holds up his plastic cup and salutes Max before draining it to the dregs.

Pierre's immediate refusal hurt more than it probably should have. You hadn't expected him to jump at the offer but having him shut the idea down so thoroughly hadn't been what you wanted either.

Max notes your pouty lower lip and speaks on your behalf. "Come on mate," Max insists. "You just won your first prix, live a little! It's not like you've got anything to lose, she's your best friend."

"That's exactly why-"

"Shut up, it would be fun! Wouldn't it?" Max says this last bit to you, a wild grin on his face.

Max expects you to turn red and object. That was his end goal. But what the Dutchman hadn't counted on was how drunk you already were on Pierre. On his smile. On his bright blue eyes, swirling in the aftermath of his unlikely triumph. And mostly on the not-so-sneaky way he glances at you every few minutes.

"Let's do it."

Pierre blinks, searching your face for any sign of distress. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, why not?" You shrug, suddenly fearing that you'd read him wrong and he really was against this whole thing. "Unless you don't want to-"

"Get the vodka," Pierre interrupts, nodding to Max though his stare remains pinned on you. Pierre latches onto your wrist and drags you around the room until he finds a table long and sturdy enough for his liking.

"This a good height for you?"

The coffee table is low enough that you'd have to kneel. Luckily getting on your knees isn't something you'd mind doing for Pierre. You lick your lips without thinking. Pierre's pupils blow wide, black swallowing the swirling oceans of blue.

"Sure," is all you manage.

"Good." Apparently neither of you were able to focus on speech. You work together to clear the empty plastic cups and used napkins from the surface. Your hands brush when you both reach for the last cup and you just catch the way Pierre's breath hitches.

You and Pierre have danced this dance since you were teenagers. Each of you knows the steps by heart. The only difference is tonight neither of you were poised to bow out before the final lift.

"Beep beep, bitches!" You yank your hand away when Max's shout reaches you. Pierre's hand lingers in front of him, outstretched as if your palm remained grazing his thumb.

Max holds the bottle of vodka over his head as he wades through the crowd. "You're all about to be very, very entertained."

"Where's your chaperone?" You ask Max, searching for Daniel in the low lighting. You press your palm to your thigh, dissipating Pierre's lingering heat.

The Dutchman waves you off. "Went to get us more drinks. Pierre, isn't it kinda hard to do body shots if you're still fully clothed?"

"Who says I'm the one getting undressed?"

Max's grin dimples his flushed cheeks. "I mean you can ask her to take her shirt off in front of all these people if you want to."

"No," Pierre responds quickly. "Fine. I'll do it."

When Pierre strips off his shirt he gets more than a few whistles from men and women alike. That tended to happen when someone was built like a Greek fucking god, you supposed. Whoever voted for People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" and decided on Michael B. Jordan had clearly never laid eyes on Pierre, with his bronzed skin, endless expanses of muscle, and brilliant cheshire grin.

Michael B. Jordan who?

Pierre hands the team branded shirt off and lays out on the table. He pillows an arm under his head, bare bicep flexed as he gets comfortable. Leaning in to kiss along the hard muscle was out of the question, however tempting it was.

Pierre looks up expectantly. "You coming?"

Holy shit, this was actually happening.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You sink to your knees and Pierre laughs.

"Up here." He pats his thigh with his free hand and beacons you forward. "Please."

Screw it, you've already thrown your friendship out the window. This night ended either in heartbreak or awkwardness, might as well get your money's worth.

A few whoops break out above the music. The bassline isn't the only thing thundering in your chest as you straddle Pierre's thighs, hands braced on his chest.

"Okay?" Pierre whispers for your ears only. You nod with what you hope is a charming smile.

"Alright move," Max says, shooing you back until you're resting on your haunches. Max flicks the cap off the bottle and you grab it to take a long sip.

Max gapes at you and you wipe a hand over your mouth. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

Pierre's thighs tense beneath you in response to your bold declaration. Dozens of Pierre's friends and team members gather around. For all you care, Pierre is the only person in the room.

"Last chance to back out," Max warns. You're too busy tracking the drop of liquid that falls from the neck of the bottle to splash onto the crease of Pierre's abs to bother responding.

"Pour it out." Pierre's chest sinks with his demand, doing nothing but sparking your imagination, creating images of him heaving beneath you. You'd sell your soul to recreate the way you're currently poised above Pierre's hips with a little less clothing and no audience.

Max gives up hope on you replying and dribbles the alcohol up Pierre's abdomen, stopping just below his pecks.

"Have at 'er-"

Your tongue is on Pierre's skin before Max has finished his sentence. You feel the muscle tense beneath your tongue, going rigid at the first contact. The burn of the vodka doesn't even register as you lap it up, catching the drips that fall over his sides.

You aren't sure either of you is breathing. Salty sweat mingles with the sharpness of the alcohol, an afterthought barely worth mentioning.

Blame the liquid courage or blame the high from Pierre's win, but you were confident Pierre was enjoying this just as much as you.

Planting a hand on Pierre's hip, you steal a glance up at him to find him locked on you. You take that as permission to continue, dragging your tongue flat up his stomach and continuing well past where the vodka had been poured. Up between his pecks, over the curve of his throat that bobs beneath your tongue, over his chin until you meet his lips, already parted and waiting.

Neither of you pay the shouts cresting around you any heed. You've both waited too long for this, endured too many almosts and what ifs to let the opportunity slip through your fingers. Your sticky hands cradle Pierre's face, angling it in a way that's to your liking so you can explore more of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and mint, the juxtaposition of hot and cold scattering your thoughts. One of Pierre's hands finds the nape of your neck when you gasp for air, refusing to let you end the moment.

And it's pure, unending bliss that floods your veins when he nips at your lower lip, swollen and surely reddened from his kiss. His thumb sweeps across the back of your neck while you both fight to catch the breath currently evading you.

Daydreams didn't hold a candle to the real thing. One taste and you were addicted, craving as much as Pierre was willing to give.

"Hey," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a stupidly gorgeous smile.

"That was nice," you tease, tangling your fingers in the silky blond strands of his hair. "I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again."

"Me too. Maybe somewhere where it's just us though. I wouldn't want to scandalize my team any further." You manage to steal another sweet peck before Max hauls you off Pierre.

"Fucking finally," Daniel says, clapping when you're upright again. "Do you know how long I've been trying to orchestrate this? The two of you really are dumber than a box of rocks. I can't believe all it took was Max suggesting body shots to get you two to kiss."

The arm that wraps around your waist feels right. Pierre hasn't hugged you like this before, with his chin resting on your shoulder and his nose nuzzling your neck, but it already feels like home.

Pierre ignores Max completely in favor of pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. "Why don't we go back to my room? I'll pour more alcohol on myself if that's what it takes to convince you."

You're just about to take him up on the offer when one of his team members taps his shoulder. He glances at them impatiently, which the man thankfully doesn't take personally.

"They want some photos with you holding your trophy," he explains, handing a shirt and the star shaped interpretation of the Italian flag to Pierre. "It will only take a few minutes, they promised not to keep you long."

Of course everyone knew exactly where your minds were. Sanity had long since left the premises, tangled up in crisp white sheets. Pierre's entire team and half the Red Bull garage had seen what had gone down while the prix winner was sprawled on that coffee table. There would be no chance of denying it in the morning.

And while you'd never imagined that the first time you'd kiss your best friend would be directly preceded by licking copious amounts of shitty liquor off his super-heated skin, now that you'd experienced it any other way seems forgettable.

Pierre sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, I already have my trophy, but…" your stomach lurches when you realize he means you. Pierre catches the way your mouth hangs open and he shoots you a grin before accepting the real trophy.

"You carry it," he says, not giving you much of a choice as he thrusts it into your hands. "I'm occupied."

You're about to point out that his hands are, in fact, free and that the more likely reason for insisting you carry the trophy was his usual post-race laziness when he slings an arm around your shoulders and tucks you tight to his side.

"Is this okay?" Pierre asks when you involuntarily stiffen. God, it was more than okay, it was perfect, it had just caught you by surprise. You'd only kissed him a handful of minutes ago and Pierre was already wrapped around your finger, smitten as if you'd been a couple for years.

"Yeah no, it's perfect. Simply lovely," you say quickly, stumbling over your words.

"Can I kiss you again?"

Your answer comes in the form of a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. You prop the trophy on your hip and smile up at your race winner.

"You don't have to ask that ever again. My answer is always yes."

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 rpf #f1 #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf

261 notes · View notes

cafedanslanuit · 3 years

Text

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖ — summary: porco wasn't surprised when you called him at three in the morning because you were too drunk to drive back to your place. he would always be there when you needed, both as your best friend and the guy who was completely head over heels for you. and both of them were sure zeke jaeger was cheating on you.

✖ — pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖ — tags/warnings: so far it’s sfw but rating will change in future chapters, college au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, cheating, toxic relationships, friends to lovers

chapter one: save your love

“Thanks for picking me up, Pock. You didn’t have to.”

“Tch. Of course I did,” Porco replied, putting his arm on the back of your seat on his car and reversing, getting out of the bar’s parking lot. You took your time observing him and noticed the bags under his eyes. You shouldn’t have been surprised. What were you expecting when you called him at 3 am asking him to pick you up from the bar because you were too drunk to drive home?

Porco rested his arm on the open window of his car, his other hand handling the wheel with ease. There were very few cars on the highway and the chilly air refreshed your body just right, making the ride home a lot more comfortable than you pictured. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of safeness you always felt whenever your best friend was around, plus the sweet dizziness on your head from the vodka and Porco’s cologne.

“What did the fucker do this time?”

It didn’t last long.

“He didn’t do a thing.”

Porco scoffed. “Yeah, right. Are you really going to pretend you didn’t end up in that bar because of what Zeke’s ‘friend’ just posted on her Instagram?”

“Porco, please.”

“What was the caption again? Oh, right. ‘Movie night’, devil face emoji, fire emoji,” he recalled with a snicker, his eyes fixated on the road. “She even tagged him on it, her legs resting on his lap and shit. Was it the same girl he took to the cat shelter for some ‘volunteer work’ last week or another?”

You didn’t answer. You knew Porco already knew who she was.

“She’s very pretty,” you mused. “It makes sense.”

“Please, have you looked at yourself?” Porco asked, taking a right turn.

Jokingly, you took the rearview mirror and angled it towards you. Your mascara was a little worn off and there were only traces of the red lipstick you had put on before heading to the bar. Your hair was messy as well and you look like you desperately needed a bottle of water.

“I look like shit,” you laughed, putting the mirror back to its original place.

“Shut the fuck up, you look good.”

“Pock, look at me. Whatever is going on here,” you said, gesturing at your face, “ain’t good. If you think so, your taste is really lacking.”

Porco chuckled, eliciting a soft smile from you.

“I like to think I have really good taste.”

“If we’re being serious, you have way too high standards,” you yawned, extending your arms and feeling some cracks on your back.

“How so?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since I know you, which is what— a year?”

“And?”

“And I’m starting to think you’re afraid of commitment. Maybe you’re just afraid of a relationship,” you shrugged.

“Are you done, Freud?” he teased, sparing a quick glance at you before looking back at the road again.

“All I’m saying is you’ve had both beautiful girls and boys at your disposition and you have never even tried to date them. Well, no, my bad, you did take this one girl on a date. And what happened next?”

Porco chuckled. “Look, it’s not like that, we just didn’t click and—”

“You told her you were better off as friends and to this day I haven’t listened to a solid reason as to why you would drop such a pretty girl like her.”

“She just didn’t have what I was looking for,” he shrugged innocently.

“See what I mean? Unbelievable high standards. None of us is worthy of the mighty Porco Galliard, the lacrosse team captain who can fit seventeen marshmallows inside his mouth.”

Both of you broke in laughter, not caring about waking up someone from the houses alongside the road. You looked around and immediately recognized the neighbourhood, your laugh ceasing immediately. You patted Porco’s arm, trying to get his attention.

“Can you turn left at the next intersection?”

“We need to keep straight to get to your place.”

“I want to go to Zeke’s for a minute.”

Porco’s face twisted into a scowl. “Why would you want to go to him right now?”

“I— he told me he was watching movies by himself. I just want to check on him, we don’t even have to step off the car.”

“Hey,” he said sternly, catching your attention. “Don’t do this. You saw her Instagram post, you know what happened between those two. Are you really going to believe him after you just saw fucking evidence?”

“I know him,” you insisted. “He wouldn’t just flat out lie to me, not like that.”

“And the photo from tonight? How do you explain that?”

You took a deep breath, a sharp pain in your head making you close your eyes tightly.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Please, just— drive past his house. If his lights are out, then he must be sleeping after watching those movies by himself, just like he told me so.”

Porco scoffed.

“Porco, please,” you pleaded, squeezing his arm as you got closer and closer to the intersection. “Please.”

Rolling his eyes, Porco turned left as you asked him to and started driving to Zeke’s house, following your instructions. He didn’t try to come up with conversation again, instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he pulled up crossing the street, a couple of houses away from your target.

Your heart immediately relaxed when you looked at Zeke’s window: the lights were off. You let out a long, tired sigh, letting your forehead rest on the glove compartment of Porco’s car.

“I don’t understand you,” Porco sneered, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow pressed on the open window of his car. “Him having the lights off means nothing, he could—”

Porco turned to you as you sat back up, your eyes meeting his. He bit his tongue, silently cursing and looked at his wheel, setting both his hands on it.

“He could what?” you insisted.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied, passing a hand through his hair. “His lights are off. Can we go now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you whispered, sitting back against his passenger seat and getting comfortable.

Right when Porco was reaching for his keys, a noise in the quiet neighbourhood startled you. Both of you raised their heads as a black car passed alongside them and parked in front of Zeke’s house. A tall, blonde girl exited the same house, accompanied by none other than your boyfriend. You recognized her as Yelena, who had begun appearing more and more frequently in his pictures at the same time he started posting less and less about you.

Zeke walked her to the car and you watched in horror as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips before getting in the car. He closed the door after her and patted the roof of the car twice before sending her off. Porco gripped the wheel tightly as Zeke stretched his arms and walked back home, dragging his feet without a care in the world.

Sighing, Porco turned to you, who were already dialling Zeke’s number.

“No, c’mon,” he said, trying to take your phone away but you swatted his hand away, putting a finger on top of your lips, asking for silence.

“Hey baby,” you greeted in your fake, cheery voice. Porco couldn’t believe after spending two years with you, Zeke couldn’t realize that when your voice got too high-pitched, it meant you were faking every word. “Yeah, I know it’s late. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I just— I know. I know it’s too late to call.”

Porco could feel his blood boiling at every apology that came out of your mouth even after witnessing Yelena leaving his house not even five minutes ago.

“I just wanted to ask how you were doing? Were the movies fun?” you made a pause, your smile tight on your face. “Ah, I see. Wasn’t it boring to watch all by yourself?” you pressed and not even you could maintain your smile after hearing his response. “Mhm, I do know you prefer to watch movies alone. Anyway, it is quite late. Talk to you later, I love—”

You looked at the screen on your phone and noticed the call had already ended.

“Well, there’s that,” you mused to yourself before putting your phone back on your jeans.

Silently, Porco started his car again, driving away from the suburbs and heading to your place as he had intended in the first place. The comforting silence was now poisonous, his eyes flicking from the road every minute to check on you, who was looking outside the window with your eyes lost. your mind probably too full of thoughts that he couldn’t begin to understand.

It didn’t mean he didn’t want to, though.

He kept driving in silence until he reached your apartment, parking in his usual spot. He left the engine running, even if you knew he always waited until you entered the building to drive away. He unlocked the doors and let out a long sigh.

“Drink some water before getting to bed,” Porco reminded you, both his hands on the wheel.

You didn’t move a muscle, eyes lost on his glove compartment, the events of the night running around your head. Yelena’s Instagram photo. Zeke’s text telling you he was alone. Him kissing her goodnight at 2 am.

“Hey,” he called, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth but then closed it, not knowing where to start. You pursed your lips and tugged at your fingers in discomfort.

“Talk to me,” Porco insisted.

“Can you stay tonight?” you asked in a small voice. “Annie is out and I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Before you could finish your sentence, Porco was already killing the engine.

It was a silent walk to your apartment. You checked yourself in the elevator's mirror, realizing how awful you truly looked. Your eyeliner was smudged along with your mascara and the bags under your eyes were more noticeable than ever. As you inspected your face, Porco grabbed your cheek between his thumb and index, playfully pulling it from side to side until you were laughing, asking him to stop.

When you entered your apartment, you immediately walked to the bathroom, in deep necessity of a shower. Porco knew your apartment like the back of his hand, so after a quick detour to the kitchen, he made his way to your bedroom. He saw your laptop on your bed, messy sheets and clothes on the floor, probably how you had left it after seeing Yelena’s post on Instagram and decided to go to your favourite bar and forget about it for a while.

Porco took off his shoes and started picking up your clothes and put them on your spare chair, your laptop now on your desk. While he made your bed, he listened to you using your hairdryer in the bathroom and figured you would be out soon. He took out his phone from his pocket and looked at this schedule. It was already four in the morning and he had classes at nine. It was okay, he told himself. He had a hoodie in his car he could change into the next morning, and no one would say anything about him arriving in sweatpants. Well, no one that cared enough about their reputation to try and make fun of one of the golden boys of the university, at least.

You stepped off your bathroom already wearing your pyjamas, a tank top and small cotton shorts. Being friends with Porco for so long, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas but it was truly the first time he saw you so small while wearing them. Maybe it was because of everything that happened that night, your tired eyes or the way you were standing, but Porco had to fight off the urge to put his arms around your body and protect you. From what? He wasn’t quite sure.

He handed you a bottle of water he had grabbed from the kitchen and you drank it all in one try.

“The only true secret to avoid being hungover tomorrow,” he reminded you.

“I know,” you smiled, leaving the empty bottle on your desk. “C’mon, let's get to bed.”

Porco had slept with you before, sure. You had travelled to the beach together with some friends and your sleeping bags were always put next to each other, which only prompted you to talk all night, telling each other embarrassing stories from your younger years. You had also fallen asleep in Porco’s dorm before, after a party that left you too tired to go back to your place. He would always let you crash on his bed and you slept soundly, knowing you were safe if he was around.

Zeke had never liked that. But Porco couldn’t care less.

He got into bed first, scooting to the wall and making space for you. You laid next to Porco, facing him and sighed happily when your head finally hit your pillow

“Thanks for making the bed, Pock,” you smiled.

“Why are you still with him?”

You averted his gaze, your smile dropping in an instant. “I love him,” you muttered.

“Do you? Do you really love someone who is lying to you like this?” he insisted. You felt a knot forming on your throat. “You understand he was fucking Yelena, right?”

You nodded softly, hugging the pillow under your head.

“Then why waste your time with an asshole like him? What are you waiting for, what do you want him to do so you finally leave him? What’s your tipping point, huh?”

Porco’s voice was gentle yet firm as he tried to get to you. He watched you as you laid still, not willing to answer any of his questions. He wondered if maybe you didn’t want to know the answer either.

“You’re smart. You’re— fuck, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Why are you letting him treat you like garbage? Why are you allowing him to hurt you like this?”

Once again, he was met with silence.

“You’re are fun, beautiful and yet you’re drunk at 4 am on a fucking Wednesday because your boyfriend is cheating on you and not only that— he’s fucking her and letting everyone know. Why are you doing this to yourself?” he inquired, his voice getting a little desperate. “You should be with someone who treats you right, who— fuck, someone who knows how much you’re worth. Someone who would never hurt you like this.”

You couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.

“Yeah, like who?” you scoffed, nuzzling your face on your pillow.

“Like me.”

You snapped your head to Porco, eyes open wide and lips parted, trying to form words.

“W-what?”

You looked at Porco, his eyes looking intensely at you. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, shaking his head.

“No,” he said, almost to himself, shifting on the bed and propping up on his elbow, his body still facing yours. “I said what I said. I… I love you. Have loved you for quite some time now,” he admitted. You watched heat rising to his cheeks, tinting them deep red.

“I— I love you too,” you said softly. “You know that. I always tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life and that I—”

“You know I don’t mean it like that. I don’t love you as a friend,” Porco muttered, rolling his eyes.

You stayed in silence, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes scanned the bed sheets between both your bodies. Even if Porco was being crystal clear with his words regarding his feelings towards you, somehow it didn’t make sense in your head.

“Why?” you whispered.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you… well—”

“Why do I love you?” Porco asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched you nod softly. “Well, ‘cause it’s you. Ever since we met, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your weird sense of humour and your irrational fear of panda bears,” he said, making both of you laugh, helping in releasing the tension both of you were carrying since his confession. “C’mon, you honestly thought I was so full of myself I didn’t think anyone was worthy of dating me? Fuck, I—,” he let out an honest chuckle, passing a hand through his hair. “I was just in love with you. And trust me, it’s not fun going out on a date with someone when all you can think is ‘Oh, she’d love this place’ or ‘I would be having much more fun if she was here instead’.”

“You really did that?” you asked in a small voice.

Porco smirked, cocking his head towards you. You knew his confession was playing a big part but you couldn’t stop noticing how handsome he truly was. Sure, you had always known he was good-looking, you knew this when you teased him for not going out with other people, but you never realized how truly beautiful he was.

Looking at him lying on your bed, the moonlight coming from your open window and hitting his face, it was as if you were looking at him for the first time, noticing the smallest details you had been ignoring for so long. Like how his eyes weren’t hazel but golden and that he had a few freckles on his cheekbones, decorating his slightly tanned skin. His lips also looked soft, even for someone who had woken up in the middle of the night to pick up their drunk friend. The white t-shirt he was wearing exposed his toned arms, making you feel the need to bury your face on his chest so he could put them around you.

You hadn’t realized you were moving forward until you felt Porco’s hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting closer. You should have known you wouldn’t have been able to notice his freckles from afar. Porco’s eyes went from your lips back to your eyes and you sensed how bad he was rethinking his choices as he gently pushed you back on the bed.

“Listen, I—” he started, his blush only getting more noticeable, now making the tip of his nose turn red as well. “I’m not going to be your rebound, neither someone who you fuck out of spite or to get back at your boyfriend. Fuck, I don’t even know why I told you this,” he sighed, putting down his propped arm and laying his cheek on the pillow next to you. “Just… do better. For yourself. You deserve much more than that monkey man who hasn’t realized he’s a four dating a ten.”

You giggled at his remark and he smirked, proud of himself. Porco and you looked at each other’s eyes, a soft smile lingering on your lips. Tentatively, you reached for his hair, his golden locks feeling soft under your touch. Porco stayed still as you played with his hair, even closing his eyes as you did so.

After a few moments, your hand travelled to his cheek, making him open his eyes again. Your thumb gently stroked his skin, soft and tender under your touch. Porco’s eyes were fixed on your face as you caressed him silently. Your other fingers started running over his skin with a feather-like touch, entrapped in the sweet moment between the two of you.

Porco turned his head just enough for his mouth to meet your palm. He pressed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skipping a beat and a smile creeping on your face.

“Can I hug you?” you asked in a whisper.

Porco nodded, opening his arms for you. You scooted closer to him, sliding your right arm around his waist, bending your other arm and flushing your head against his chest. Your legs tangled together, not taking too long before finding a comfortable position.

Once you were settled, Porco’s left arm draped around your body, pulling you closer to him gently. He pushed his right arm under your pillow, loving how easy it felt to be like this with you. It was as if you were always meant to sleep like this, with your face against his chest and your hand on his back. He looked down at you and pushed some of your hair away from your face

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking a deep breath and sighing contently against his chest. Porco’s cologne filled your senses and you couldn’t help but smile at the homely feeling.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes. You imitated him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

...

When Porco opened his eyes the next morning, he felt as if only a couple of seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. He sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time that he had sleeping problems but a part of him innocently hoped it would change after he got to sleep by your side. He looked at your sleeping face. It was way too innocent from him to think just because he got to rest by your side he would have had a good sleep.

He looked down at your sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile a little. He recalled the moment you leaned into him, searching for a kiss before he had to push you away. Porco exhaled, his eyes travelling to your lips. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to kiss the girl of his dreams— hell, he had dreamt about that for almost a year now.

But not like that. Never like that.

Porco took his phone on your bedside table and checked the time. Seven in the morning. He yawned, burying his face in the pillow. He hated his inability to go back to sleep after he had already woken up. His first class was in three hours and while you didn’t have any classes in the morning, he knew you would probably wake up regretting having drunk so much the night before.

Carefully, he pulled away from you and headed to the kitchen. You had mentioned Annie was going to be out and he figured either she hadn’t come home yet or she was asleep as well. Just in case, he tried to be extra silent while preparing coffee. He thanked Annie was the closest thing to a coffee connoisseur he knew, because he couldn’t help but let out a happy hum when the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.

As he watched the coffee drip on your mug, he leaned on the counter, his mind going back to the night he’d spent on your bed. How your fingers traced his hair, how your hand felt against his cheek and the way you looked at him when he kissed your palm. Even if he had stopped you from kissing him, somehow the tender moment you shared had felt even more intimate. Like it was always supposed to be like that: just you and him.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that Porco realized he had been smiling the whole time. He had told you he loved you. You hadn’t pushed him away after knowing how he really felt about you— not only that, you had shown him tenderness by cuddling with him the whole night. Even if Porco was aware things were far more complicated than that moment, he also knew it was a step in the right direction. He could almost see you sitting on the counter in front of him, morning light hitting your face and your legs swinging while you looked at him with a soft smile.

A shuffling noise made Porco snap out of his daydreaming. He peeked from the kitchen door, thinking Annie was back home but instead he found you stepping out of the room, wearing shorts and a big hoodie while you checked your phone.

“Thought you didn’t have class until later today,” Porco said, walking into the living room and startling you.

“Hey Pock— and no, I— Zeke called. He said he wants to talk, that he needs me, so I… I called an Uber, I’m going to his place now.”

“Are you serious right now?”

You looked into his eyes and immediately back to the floor, his glare too full of the truth for you to endure.

“The Uber is waiting,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks for… driving me home and staying. I have to go.”

In silence, Porco watched you walk past him to your apartment door and carefully close it behind you. A part of him wanted to think it was nothing but a joke from your part, that you would open the door any second now.

The song of the coffee machine turning off let him know he should have known better than to hope.

#snk x reader #aot x reader #porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard #porco angst #porco fluff #porco galliard angst #porco galliard fluff #aot porco #snk porco #porco #porco galliard x you #porco x you

483 notes · View notes

angelicimagines · 3 years

Note

(Regular Ask | Any Mod) Post-Game Hajime, Nagito, Gundham, Sonia, and Akane dating the Ultimate Enologist who always plays tricks on them with swapping their drinks (innocently). Like; Hajime being asked to taste their new concoction, and it's literally just orange juice/favorite drink with no sweetener/additives, LOL.

Hello there Anon. This reminds me a lot of those "potions" that we all made when we were kids but they were really just soap and some other stuff mixed with water. I also took some creative liberties with this one cuz I had to mix it up a bit. Here's your request. In other news tumblr crashed on me in the middle of this and deleted a whole ass section. I am ready to fight god with only primal rage as my weapon. -Mod Shuichi

(Post–Game) Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Gundham Tanaka, Sonia Nevermind, Akane Owari with a playful Ultimate Enologist!S/O.

Hajime Hinata🍊

🍊 Is immediately suspicious of you. You served him a glass of your new "concoction" but it just tasted like orange juice. Does he look like an idiot to you? 🍊 Begins "interrogating" you about the drink like you're in a trial. You must be the ultimate actor because your acting skills were top notch during the questioning. 🍊 He's out of truth bullets, shit. You got lucky this time, he has his eye on you. 🍊 He is also a massive hypocrite. 🍊 He loves watching others' reactions to your "concoctions". You usually pull this trick when they have already tried some of your original work, so they definitely don't expect to taste lemon juice in what is supposed to be a glass of your newest work. 🍊 Tries to hold in his laughter because then it would look suspicious, like you two were up to something. Maybe in the future though. 🍊 Back on track, he just knows you're paying tricks on him and wants to confront you about it, but… 🍊 Man's a simp. You're just so happy whenever someone falls for your tricks and you genuinely have a passion for creating and pranking and who is he to stop your fun. 🍊 When you do pull the trick on him, y'all have a back and forth debate on whether or not the drink is actually a new creation or apple juice. 🍊 You insist it's a new concoction and he goes "NO THAT'S WRONG!" Oh shit, he's onto you. Rethink your strategy stat! 🍊 You gave him something actually original and said it was "orange juice". 🍊 He drinks it, blinks a few times, and then glares at you. You apparently have a deathwish because you lean closer to his face and feign innocence, batting your eyelashes at him while asking what's wrong. 🍊 You expected another interrogation or maybe a "listen here you little shit", not a kiss on the lips. A surprise to be sure. 🍊 That was the start of a routine. Everytime you played your tricks on him, he'd pull you in and kiss you. You didn't know why he did that, but it was a fun way to get kisses. 🍊 If you ask him, he'd say he wanted you to taste teste your new drink <3

Nagito Komaeda☘️

☘ Very conflicted on how to feel. On one hand, he is sure what he is drinking is not the liquor you said it was; but on the other, who is he to doubt an ultimate? ☘ Plays along and congratulates you on your drink, saying it was very tasty. Bonus points if you do this trick in front of others and they're saying it's plain juice and not whatever fancy name you had said. ☘ Lowkey loves when others argue about your drinks. He always takes your side and it's hilarious. ☘ "I'm telling you that's not wine, it's cranberry juice!" ☘ "It's wine, if the Ultimate Enologist says so then it's wine. Did you spend years studying wines and their craft?" ☘ "I'M NOT AN IDIOT THAT'S CRANBERRY JUICE!" ☘ After a few more tricks he figures it out. You're playing a prank on him huh. ☘ He lets you know by saying thanks for the juice instead of whatever it is you said it was. ☘ You almost dropped the glass you were holding. He thought it was due to his luck, but he let it pass. Your face was just too funny to let the opportunity pass. ☘ Even though he knows, he still plays pretend from time to time. One because it makes you happy and two because you have to keep the illusion going for the others. ☘ You bargained with him over that last point. You promised him cuddles (after lot's of convincing that he did deserve them) in exchange for him acting along when you pulled your trick on others. ☘ Now he gets your cuddles, free drinks, and gets to witness your funny moments when you pull the prank on others. Man he really is lucky. ☘ If you name a drink after him or if one of your drinks is inspired by him he'll cry. Will refuse to drink it himself. ☘ You also share a drink that you say it's a new wine but it's really just dyed water. Others are confused by your couple ritual but y'all are happy so who cares. ☘ Nothing makes him happier than hugging you while you work on your drinks though, it fills him with hope <3

Gundham Tanaka🐹

🐹 Is convinced you're working with dark magic. You made wine taste like orange juice, what type of sorcery do you practice? 🐹 Asks you to see the process to check for magic. Oh no, you're fucked. 🐹 Or so it seems. When he's not looking you swap the drinks and keep the illusion going. He has yet to find out. 🐹 You sometimes pretend to add blood (red food coloring) to the decorations of the glass you serve your drink in and pour a special wine into them to make it look like blood. 🐹 People are convinced you two are vampires because of this. 🐹 You make non alcoholic drinks for the Devas in exchange for protection and a special place in his dark realm. You can also pet the devas free of repercussions. 🐹 Is insulted when someone even dares to suspect your drinks aren't really anything new. How dare they question the work of his soul's chosen companion sorry Hajime. 🐹 Very confused as to why others argue with you over your drinks. He is certain the contents of that glass are not apple juice, it's your new concoction inspired by the Devas. 🐹 The day he finds out your secret is the day the apocalypse began (not really but it felt like it). 🐹 You were preparing your drinks for the trick and waiting for him. He decided to surprise you by showing up a bit earlier and that resulted in him catching you mid switch. 🐹 Kept staring at you and the drink back and forth repeatedly, until the information was processed. 🐹 He's been tricked, sabotaged, and quite possibly bamboozled. 🐹 Began to doubt your status as a mortal and started having a crisis. In front of two perfectly fine drinks but ok. You came clean after that and he feigned betrayal. Even got the devan in on it too. 🐹 Both of you acted like it was a scene from a telenovela while trying to hold in y'alls laughter. You eventually got to the part where you begged for forgiveness. 🐹 Will forgive you on one condition, you pull that trick on Souda <3

Sonia Nevermind👑

👑 Before you even got to pull your tricks on her you were already her own personal enologist. Only the best for a princess. 👑 Does notice that your concoctions taste strangely like every day juices you can buy from the store, but she decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. 👑 Loves it when you do it to others though. She might not know what is happening but watching you argue with Fuyuhiko over what you just served him is hilarious. 👑 Gets whiplash whenever you pull your trick right after a formal event. You serve a magnificent cocktail never seen or tasted before and the next second you serve her what tastes like pineapple juice. 👑 You come to her for inspiration on what drinks to do next, it mostly involves references to the occult disguised as fancy people drinks. 👑 Does she find out about your secret? Yep 👑 She was looking for you to spend quality time together when she say you pour a glass of peppermint lemonade and label it as "new drink". 👑 Someone walked up to your stand and asked to try said drink and you served them the lemonade. They were extremely confused and from there a discussion started. 👑 She scurried away before you could catch her, equally as confused as the poor customer you just served. 👑 The next day, she asked to try some of your drinks and they all tasted like normal drinks. What happened to your awesome concoctions you served during parties? 👑 She's on a mission now, she's gonna get to the bottom of this mystery. 👑 One time, while you weren't looking, she snuck into your storage room to confirm her suspicion and found you working on your new wine (legit this time). 👑 You didn't seem to mind she had snuck into your storage room and invited her over to see the process. After that was done you offered her a glass as a taste test. 👑 She took a sip and it tasted like…mango juice? When she looked at you with a confused expression you laughed and offered her a glass of the actual drink. 👑 In that moment she realized she doesn't mind your tricks that much, if it makes you smile that brightly she'll always for for it <3

Akane Owari🤸

🤸 She would gulp down anything that you "concocted" for her because she loves you and you make killer drinks. 🤸 Would probably "get drunk" on whatever you decided to give her because of placebo effects and whatnot. 🤸 It is very fun to give her something like lemon water and saying it's a new type of tequila and you want her to do the honors of taste testing it. 🤸 Gladly does it and comments that it takes a bit like lemon. Then gives suggestions to other flavour you could add in your "tequila". 🤸 Others have tried to convince her it wasn't a new concoction because after the ntheenth time she had fallen for the trick it got a bit worrying. 🤸 She denies it every time. 🤸 One time you were serving her a glass of your new "drink" that was really just apple juice dyed to look like fine wine. 🤸 "Thanks for drink S/O, it looks delicious!" 🤸 You try to supress your giggles as she drank the whole thing and gave you back the glass. 🤸 She did comment that it "kinda tastes like apple juice" but that theory was dismissed due to the color of the drink. 🤸 Your plan fell right into place, good for you. Though the cheering had to be reserved for another time. 🤸 That time would be when you were cleaning the dishes because it gave you some alone time to cheer on your victory and you had a bunch of glasses to clean. 🤸 As you left with her empty glass in hand to get started on the dishes, Akane smiled to herself and lighty chuckled at the recent exchange 🤸 Plot twist, she knew that you were just messing with her. She played along with you because you always had the brightest smile whenever serving her a drink and she loved seeing you happy. 🤸 She just wants to see you happy, plus she gets free drinks <3

180 notes · View notes

theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2) that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh*

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #everlark

89 notes · View notes

wolvesandpetals · 3 years

Text

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 1 of 2

SPOILER ALERT.

It's probably just the alcohol, but the beats of the music are starting to sound a little bit like a marching drum that's announcing war. She can feel herself dancing along to it, but her whole body is on alert, ready to switch to fight and flight any second.

"So, cool place huh?" The bloke in the leather jacket asks.

She tries to remember his name. Jeff something. Or maybe Jed. No, not Jed, she's thinking of Star Wars again. That's what happens when you binge watch a multiverse of movies in a single day.

Oh, yeah, that's right. She broke the multiverse.

Another shot of tequila, and she takes not-Jed's hand in hers. It doesn't feel right, at least not the way-

No.

She realises he asked her a question, but she can't remember what, and she just laughs, because that always works.

Encouraged, he leans in close and whispers into her ears. "How about we get out of here?"

"And go where, exactly?" She asks, but she's not sure he understands, not with how slurred the words come out.

She laughs again, and this time, it's bitter. This time, she's laughing at how this is so him, this getting drunk in the face of imminent danger and making a mess of things.

(But I'm not you.)

---

She's frozen in her place the second the glowing yellow door appears. But it's not for her, at least not this time.

She hasn't been on the run for a while. Doesn't need to be. Because even though she is the one who unleashed the chaos, it's the chaos that needs to be contained immediately. She's low on the list of priorities.

The TVA will come for her. But not right now.

---

It's extremely easy pretending to be a psychic. All she has to do is take her client's hands and enchant him, find a memory, describe it back to him.

Sometimes she does it just for fun, just to see the look of amazement on their faces.

Other times, she does it for the money she needs to survive.

"And I see a blonde woman. Very beautiful."

"That's my wife."

The way he smiles, loving and proud, makes her heart drop.

"What do you see in her future? Is she happy? Does she get the job at the magazine?"

There is definitely at least one timeline where she does get the job, but The Enchantress cannot exactly tell if it's this one. She can't actually see the future, after all.

She sees the colors drain from his face as her silence swallows the room. "She's going to be okay, right? I just want her to be okay."

(I just want you to be okay.)

There's that bitter laugh again, because-

No. She can't do this right now.

"She loves you very much", she whispers, to the man in front of her, and to the man who is not there to hear those words.

---

Mobius finds her in the middle of a concert by a Nirvana where Kurt Cobain never died. She can easily slip away, disappear into the screaming, writhing crowd if she wants.

Or she can just take him some place quiet and hear him out.

"Help us", Mobius pleads. He sounds exhausted, and not just physically. "We're outnumbered and outwitted. Our world is in danger."

"This isn't my world", she reminds him.

"Yet, you're here", he retorts.

Her smile is pained. "Where else will I go?"

He is sympathetic, like he always has been. And he offers her a new glorious purpose. "Come with me. We need you. He needs you."

She feels the air find its way out of her lungs the same way she pushed him out of her life- painfully, forcefully. "H-how is he?"

"He's okay... all things considered."

Now there's a cocktail of relief and disappointment that will give her months of sleepless nights.

"Tell him I'm-" she starts, but she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. What can she tell him? That she's sorry for not trusting him when she should have? That she's sorry for making the universes collide?

That she's sorry for betraying him and breaking his heart?

(How will I know you won't betray me at the end?)

"Nevermind."

---

It's been really hard facing the consequences of her actions, watching the timelines bleed into each other and destroy people's lives- families torn, achievements gone, every little anomaly delving into death and destruction. Every headline on the newspaper is her fault, and she has to live with that.

But that seems so easy compared to this moment where she has to face him.

The plan was to send him away, kill He Who Remains, give people their free will back, save the world, then come back to him. Yeah, he'd be mad at her at first, sure, but he'd forgive her eventually, she was confident.

Then the timelines started to branch the minute she stuck the dagger in that terrifying man's chest, and she knew she had screwed up.

She had sunk to the ground in defeat as the realisation of the repercussions hit her, and she did what she has always done- run.

She didn't even realise she had sent him to the wrong universe until she teleported herself into another universe as well. The journey back was long and lonely, but she dreamt of him in colors while the world was bleeding red, and that was enough to keep her going.

She doesn't really know what she'll do when she sees him again. Neither does she know what reaction she expects from him. Nothing he can say to her can be worse than what she thinks of herself.

A part of her hopes he would be overwhelmingly happy, he would come running to her, just like he did at The Void, greet her with the smile that has won a hundred hearts- including hers, and tell her everything will be alright. Another part of her fears that he would be furious, and he would confront her with accusations of unleashing havoc on all worlds- especially his.

What she never expected is this eerie calm that makes her feel like she is standing in the storm center.

His walls are up.

And it causes her to redirect the anger she feels at herself towards him. There's venom in her voice. "So you do get to rule, after all."

"I don't feel much like a king." He shrugs. "I'm more of a multiversal janitor. Mopping up multiversal messes."

"My messes."

"Our messes." He corrects, his features softening around the edges. "We made a mistake." He has been saying that ever since he found himself in the alternate TVA, and that hasn't changed even after getting back to his own version of the bureau. Always "we", never "she". He simply cannot bring himself to blame her without taking accountability for his part in the mess.

"Don't patronize me." Her hands are shaking, just like her voice, a sharp contrast to his steady silhouette, and can he just hold her, please? "I don't need you to take the fall for me."

His eyes go cold, like they were forged in the heart of Jotunheim. "Of course not", he says, fully composed. "You don't need me for anything. It's not like we're in this together."

(Maybe we can figure it out-together.)

---

She now knows her walls don't- can't- keep the hurt out- it just keeps her locked inside this cage of distrust and insecurities. And the price she has to pay for it is too high.

They could have been lying on a beach somewhere, sipping mimosas right now. Instead, they're here, in the vast, silent library of the TVA, sitting on separate tables, reading files on variants.

The only thing worse than bearing the weight of his gaze is having him stare at his files without looking in her direction even once. She can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry." She suddenly blurts out.

He looks up, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm sorry for what I did." She repeats. It's difficult to start an apology, but once she finds the strength to begin, the rest of it flows automatically. "I'm sorry I messed up everything. I'm sorry I broke the timelines. I'm sorry the world is in danger." She takes in a deep breath. "And I'm sorry I betrayed you."

His smile is the saddest kind. "A Loki betraying a Loki. That's the least surprising thing in the world. What's shocking is how I didn't see it coming. You really had me going with that kiss. Very nice distraction. Very Loki."

Free will comes with the fine-print of living with the consequences of your choices. And she has to live with hers every day. The tears finally spill out of her eyes. She hasn't let herself cry for a long, long time. But now she's breaking down worse than the multiverse. "I didn't do it to distract you. I did it to say goodbye."

He gets up, and she panics that he's leaving. Instead, he sits down in front of her, reaches for her hand, but changes his mind mid-way and lets them fall to his side. "You didn't have to say goodbye."

"It's all I've ever known." She feels like that scared little girl, far from home, running from minute men, with nobody to turn to but herself. "I told you, I don't have anyone."

"You had me."

That's the saddest part of it all, isn't it? Everything else in her life is the TVA's fault. She's torn from Asgard? Hasn't seen her parents in years? Can't remember her brother Thor? Spent her whole childhood running and hiding? All TVA.

But this? This is all her own doing. This is the one time she had something real, something worth holding onto, someone worth fighting against the world for. Instead, she questioned his intentions, didn't hold on, fought him and ruined everything.

"I didn't want to rule, Sylvie", he finally tells her. "I wanted you."

She has dreamed of this moment when he tells her how he feels. They have come so close to it so many times, the words dangling off the edge of his tongue but never quite finding their way out. She has always known- every word, every action pointed to it. But it was so hard to imagine someone could love her.

It's so hard to imagine someone can love her again. The past tense in his wording terrifies her worse than any danger ever could. "Is it too late to fix things?"

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "We are fixing things. That's why we are here. Saving the universe."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know how to trust you again, Sylvie." He tells her point blank- no deception, no lies, no Loki-ism. "And you never trusted me to begin with."

That's not entirely true. She trusts him more than she has trusted anyone. "I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know."

(Not to be dramatic, but yeah, we're saving the universe.)

---

The Avengers are much nicer than Loki described them, considering they don't kill her for what she has done, instead tell her about their own journeys towards redemption. Wanda tells her about the man she has loved and lost, and the pain she has caused to an entire town. Barnes talks about his past as a brainwashed assassin. Clint tells her the story of Natasha and how she took charge and changed her life.

Thor is the kindest of them all. He talks about how far Loki himself has come. He tells her stories of his version of Asgard, the nine realms, the glorious battles, the beauty of earth.

She still dreams of death, but sometimes she doesn't.

Sometimes, she hopes.

---

(To be continued)

#loki x sylvie #fanfiction #sylvie x loki #loki fanfic #loki #sylvie laufeydottir #sylki fanfic #sylki

66 notes · View notes