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endless-ineffabilities · 24 days ago

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chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.

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Darling gets closer to making her choice.

The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done.

Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.

Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’.

Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face.

You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.

“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout.

“Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh.

The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind.

But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.

“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.

You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further.

Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time.

And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?

Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”

“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”

The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her.

“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”

“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no.

“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”

Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”

“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”

What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.

“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused.

Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.

“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”

“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday.

Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”

“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner.

“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”

“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.”

Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”

Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”

Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”

Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”

You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”

“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”

Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”

Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”

“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”

“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”

You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.

“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”

It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.

Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”

You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”

Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”

You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true.

That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.

“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”

Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan.

But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy.

Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”

You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”

Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”

Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”

You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair.

“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly.

Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”

Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”

You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.

“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.

“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”

You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”

“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”

You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”

“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you.

“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.

You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”

“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”

“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”

“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”

You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”

He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response.

You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…”

Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”

Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands.

“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”

He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.

“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers.

His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”

You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand.

And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.

“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”

“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.

Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”

Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”

Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”

Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”

“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”

“Uhhh—”

“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.

Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.

Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.

Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”

“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.

Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he’d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.

He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist.

Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.

You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?”

He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”

“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.”

He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”

“You like the colour?”

“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.

“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”

“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”

“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”

He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.

“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”

As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”

“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.

“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”

Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it.

Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.

Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.

Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.

“Hold on to me.”

You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”

“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face.

From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin.

That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt.

He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.

Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence?

Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms?

Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him.

But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.

Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm.

“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.

The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.

“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder.

It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.

So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on.

It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…

And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.

Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”

Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”

Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”

As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”

You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”

Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”

You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”

From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”

Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”

“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.

Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.

He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”

You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”

But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.

Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”

Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”

“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”

Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”

After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.

A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.

You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you.

But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.

Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.

Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast.

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.

But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.

You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.

“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”

Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.

When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.

Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.

“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”

It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises.

Vultures.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”

He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”

You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment.

Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.

“Okay,” you finally say, “but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”

“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”

As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.

You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.

Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”

He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.

You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”

“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”

The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.

You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”

He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.

“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter.

The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.

“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”

He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.

You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt.

You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate.

His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”

And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him.

Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.

It’s always been Ewan, all along.

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲

The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...

Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛

#chemical override #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #matt smith #matt smith x reader

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sturn-saturn · 2 months ago

Text

just this once

pairing; fem!reader x bf!matt

warnings: cooch eating <3

a/n: im LITERALLY writing this as im in class LMAOO sorry if it sucks. writing a fanfic in class is crazy.

one thing you and the triplets knew was school fucking sucked. it sucked absolute balls. your dream since you were younger was to be in the medical field and here you are. you're currently in med school majoring in nursing but thankfully this biology course is offered online.

you woke up this morning absolutely exhausted but this class was only 90 minutes so you weren't complaining too much. you were just hoping this would be the quickest 90 minutes of your life.

matt wakes up pretty early as well but his brothers on the other hand love sleeping in. matt usually stayed in the living room while you're in your virtual class. matt lets you use his desk, which gives you the space to focus and just get through the class.

you're currently on the call and you were just exhausted, dozing off, staring off, picking at your cuticles, twirling your hair, you name it. your elbow was on the desk and your head was leaning on your hand until you hear a creak.

you turn to your right and you see your boyfriend peeking through the door. you give him a deadpan look because he knows how easily distracted you are especially when he's around.

luckily your professor doesn't mind if your camera is off as long as you're participating in class. "matt, what are you doing?"

"i'm bored, hungry, and theres nothing on netflix." he explains walking further into his room.

"babe, you know i have a class."

"i know, i know." he whispers walking to you and kissing your head. "are you almost done? i'm hungry."

"god we really need to get you and your brothers into a cooking class."

"honey, i know how to cook. i just choose not to cause i love when you cook, you put so much love into it."

"oh you know how to cook, huh? that salmon you tried to cook the other day says otherwise." you laugh. "i'll be done soon don't worry."

"but i'm hungry now." he whines. "you know what, fuck it."

matt pulls the desk chair away from his desk and sneaks under so hes on his knees facing you.

"m-matt. what are you doing i'm in class!" you yell.

"cameras off, i'm hungry, i'm taking advantage of this." he smirks looking up at you. “you need to keep quiet, sweetheart. can you do that for me?”

“yes.” you breathe out. matt begins to pull your panties down and kisses your inner thigh softly while holding eye contact.

your professor was talking at this point and the only thing you heard come out of his mouth was living organisms. “ms. y/l/n could you explain further?”

“fuck” you mouth looking at matt.

he pulls away from between you and gives you a smirk. “well ms. y/l/n? explain further.”

you unmute the zoom call and do everything you can to refrain from moaning. “a living organism is anything that has life and consists of cells as its basic unit of organization like t-trees, animals, algae, b-bacteria, as well as humans of course.”

“correct, thank you ms.y/l/n.” your professor announces.

you go back on mute and you look down at matt and spread your legs wider to give him access. he taps your legs so you can put your feet on the arms of his chair.

“you’re such a good girl.” matt whispers.

“mmmm” you hum

“and…you…taste…so…good.” he says in between kisses to your clit.

“matt, quit teasing.”

“say please.” with a deadpan look.

“matt, please quit teasing.”

with that, be inserts a finger and your head falls back into the chair. he trusts in and out until you’re a mess. “what you didn’t realize was you and your professor were the only ones left in the call.

“y/n, are there any questions you had for today?” you professor asks.

you almost jump out of your seat when you heard your name from the screen in front of you.

you quickly unmute yourself, “no, professor, great lecture today, looking forward to next week!” you ramble on before you end the call.

“fuck i’m looking forward to getting inside you. get on the bed, sweetheart.” you boyfriend says with a husky voice.

tag list:

@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @khalei-20 @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela @zay-sturns

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haechoxo · 5 months ago

Text

[5:14 pm]

“did he pick up?”

mark sighs heavily as he walks back into the living room, dropping down onto the couch with a soft thud. he shakes his head at you, “nah, straight to voicemail.”

you can’t help but pout. despite all he’s done, your feelings for haechan remain steady, unyielding. you pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them as you stare off into space.

mark purses his lips, watching you with a mix of concern and frustration. “don’t make that face, it’s not your fault. he’s just in a mood because he finally realized he fucked up.”

“i know,” you drawl, “i just… i don’t know…” you start picking at your cuticles, an anxious habit that’s become more frequent lately. your mind races with thoughts of haechan—his smile, his laugh, the way he used to look at you when he thought you weren’t watching. the anxiety over the whole situation eats away at you, making it hard to focus on anything else.

mark notices and grabs your hands to make you stop, reminding you that he’s there for you. he clears his throat awkwardly,

“i– uh… i hope you know hyuck’s insecurity when it comes to me is baseless. i don’t want you to think… like, that i meant to impose on your relationship– or… well, whatever it is you guys have–” he stammers, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. his sincerity makes you genuinely laugh for the first time in a while.

“mark,” your hand rests reassuringly on his shoulder, “i know, you were never a threat to hyuck and i’s… arrangement,” you cough awkwardly at the label, “the first time you spoke to me in college was literally to ask about my roommate.”

he laughs at your deadpan expression, “yeah, i still don’t know i would've been able to even make eye contact with yeri if it wasn’t for you.” his admission makes you giggle, the memory of mark’s awkward attempts to get yeri’s attention bringing a smile to your face.

“plus we all kinda thought you and haechan were already dating, when we found out you weren’t, we were all rooting for you anyway. chenle and yangyang might’ve put bet on it too… chenle blames jeno for losing since he figured out you guys were only hooking up as ‘friends'.”

shaking your head at the boys antics before you sigh, i just don’t get why he’d take it that way, you especially always steered clear of him, i thought your crush on yeri was more obvious anyway.” you shrug.

“oh? you mean like your super lowkey subtle crush on haechan? for…,” his finger rests on his chin, pretending to think, “six years?” men (mark) can be so evil.

“hey! not fair, you took just as long to ask out yeri!” your childish protests echo down the hall, mingling with mark’s wicked laughter, his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“dude, i’m just saying! how did you even agree to be haechan’s fuck buddy, your best friend, if you liked him so much?”

previous - next

a/n ; i feel like this is more of a filler idk,, but i love a good mookie mark moment♥️♥️♥️ hope u enjoy! xoxo jelly

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simp-ly-writes · 2 months ago

Text

OH, BABY!

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Boyfriend!Spencer Agnew x gn!Partner!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Smosh Baby #2! The sequel nobody knew they wanted or needed that finds you walking around the office with a robotic baby and leads to you and Spencer realizing that getting another cat was the best choice for now.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, established relationship, no mentions of pregnancy only wanting to have kids later, children, light swearing, domestic fluff, fluff, suggestive themes, attempt at humour.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,000~

─ · · A/N: This was so fucking cute and wholesome to write, thank you so much @itgirlcat for the wonderful idea. So much love your way! 🫶

─────── · ·

"You're kidding me," was all you could think to say while deadpanning towards the camera that a crew member held closely to your face. Their ominous laughter ran down your spine as all the blood drained from your face, 'I am NOT ready to be a parent.'

And next thing you knew you were being lead into a dark room, a singular bassinet laid there in wait as you took steady steps towards it. To your surprise, Tommy jumped out from seemingly nowhere as you screamed and ducked down behind the bassinet.

"Throwing your own kid in the line of fire... and I thought we couldn't get a worse parent than Angela-" Tommy began to say, spinning around the bassinet for you to see a small robotic baby staring back at you.

"Hey, I was a good fucking parent, and we all know that!" Angela yelled from across the room as the house lights came back on and you were unsure of where one bit ended and another started.

"So let me get this straight, you want me to... watch over this baby for the WHOLE day? I have work, and responsibilities-" you began to ramble, somewhat dreading the day ahead as the robotic cries started to drown your senses.

Tommy picked up the baby, giving it a kiss o the head before shoving it in your arms and showing you how it worked as you quietly nodded along. Now taking a closer look to what the infant was wearing: a small Smosh games hoodie seemingly custom made with a little pair of jeans and leather boots to match.

"OMG ITS SPENER!" you yelled out in excitement, all worry and your ability to listen to the instructions going outside the window as you placed the baby on your hip and walked straight to Spencers desk to show him apparently his new son.

─────── · ·

Turning past the kitchen/break room and into the office spaces, you walked along the faux-glass walls before reaching your boyfriend Spencers shared space with Damien and Shayne, the later two no where to be seen as Spencer sat hunched over his desk. Infamous can of Kickstart within reach and a framed picture of the two of you just to the side of it.

You remember that picture fondly when you accompanied him and his family on vacation back to Florida, touring where he went to school and grew up brought a smile back to your face. Especially the baby photos what were all across his parents' home walls, you look down to baby Spencer, silently asking them if they are ready themselves- not truly expecting an answer you clear your throat and watch as he fixes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turns around.

"Hey! How're..." Spencers sentence slowly falls off as he takes in the little person within your arms with a raised brow. Shock is raised in his eyebrows, a certain softness in his gaze as he moves to stand, greeting the robot in your arms with a soft whisper. "And who is this little guy, lookin' very handsome."

"Mhmm, I guess so..." you sass back- Spencer can only scoff in return. You try to hold in a laugh as you pass over the baby into his arms, taking in the sight with a tilt of your head and matching his earlier tone, "This is Spener, my... baby..." you are unsure of how to properly address the situation and by the sour expression of unsureness on your face has Spencer laughing wholeheartedly.

"I can't believe you cheated on me," he fakes a sob, holding the baby closer to his chest as you wrap an arm around him. "You know I could physically never, Spencer. I mean we both are still virgins!" you state towards the camera with a wink that Spencer joins and in that moment Shayne and Damien appear back from their break.

"Spener and Spener!" Damien greets with a wide smile, pulling you away from Spencers side with a hug before sitting down at his desk and Shayne does the same, not even batting an eyelash to the scene before doing a double take.

"What the fuck you guys?" Shayne states in disbelief, now at a full stand one more, only to let a sigh out in relief as he takes a step closer. "Oh, we are doing another one of these videos? Do you think you are going to be a better mom than Angela-"

"I heard that!" Angela yells from seemingly no where yet appears right behind you, wagging her finger in Shaynes space as Amanda steps out from behind her. "I hate these babies," Amanda states, looking disgustedly at the robotic creature as it gets passed around the friend circle before ending up in her arms.

Its robotic screeches happen once more as everyones gazes snap towards you and the keys swirling around in your hand. It takes you a moment to realize why everyone is staring at you before you take the baby out of Amandas arms and towards the couch behind Spencers desk and take a seat.

Pulling up the back of baby Spencers hoodie you insert one of the keys into its back, praying for it to be the right guess upon first try- it was not. Pulling it back out, irritation growing over the deafening cries as you can hear multiple people moving around their offices. Ians just behind you all, God I hope I don't get fired for this. You joke to yourself before the cries stop once more, apparently it needed a diaper change.

─────── · ·

Over the next few hours, you bring the baby into every meeting both in person and across zoom. Into the bathroom as you had to turn the face away from you, feeling utmost awkward with your fake child. And even on videos and live streams, your favourite of which was trying to make bits with it... them- in Try Not To Laugh.

Lets just say its easier said than done getting the right costume to put with a baby carrier strapped across your front. The TikTok you filmed for the main channel was doing increasingly well as comments flooded in, loving to see you with baby Spenner walking around the office and how everyone also worked with baby Spencer.

─────── · ·

Your day continues outside of the office as you and Spencer sign yourselves out of the office and decide to make a home video on your phones cameras. Taking the baby to the grocery store as you look over the various baby foods, baby Spener sitting in the cart as the actual Spencer rests his hand across your hip or the small of your back, walking with you and the cart through isles while picking up things you both actually need for your apartment.

"Babe do we need more eggs or did we grab those last week?" Spencer asks from down the isle as you look over the snack selection, now bouncing baby Spener in your arms. "No, we have some left still," you call back before pointing at the various colours and designs for the two of you.

Spencer smiles warmly, crouching down beside you both as he takes a photo and pulls some chips from the isle, placing them in the cart. "Park next?"

"I like the sound of that." And to the park the three of you go, some part of you did feel like a bad parent, holding the baby in your lap while going onto the main roads without a baby seat in the back. Yet you remind yourselves this is just for the video, not an actual baby, its just a robot.

While at the park, you take a short video of Spencer and... Spener going down the slide together. You push them lightly in the baby swing and go on the sea-saw together before taking a walk on the beach to end the day. Watching the sun set over the water you turn to look at Spencer to see him already looking down at you.

"You know... I don't think I would mind this being our future. Not anything soon... but I really like the idea of this later," Spencer comments, looking for your reaction before matching your smile as you lean to put your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist. "How about another cat for now?" You tease yet a part of you is being very serious in that moment, feeling as Spencer stills before rubbing small circles into your side with his thumb.

"What would we name them?" Spencer asks, looking down at the robotic baby in your lap that is now in nap mode... or more likely out of batteries as you both forgot to return to the office.

"Well... I do like the name Spenner-"

"Oh fuck off," Spencer whisper-shouts, yet you can hear the smile in his words as he shuffles to look at the side of your face.

"Okay, but how about Spoons or like Crash... Bandit?"

"Cyclops? Dee?-"

"-Last name twenty?"

"Read my mind babe."

─────── · ·

When you both return to the office the next day, everyone looks anxiously at the baby as you hold it up like Simba and announce. "It is out of batteries, we win these!!!" you cheer as the office claps and joins you. Courtney running over to give you a hug as Tommy takes the child finally from your hands.

"Ready to see how you did?" Tommy asks in a teasing tone, already leading you away from the group as everyone gets ready to start work for the day. The cameras are already set up in the set you started this experiment in, now literally seeing it in a new light as the crew had placed lamps around the room and a small carpet on the floor to create a more homely atmosphere.

"Did I kill it?" you question as Tommy stares at the back lights of the infant with speculation before putting back down its hoodie and placing them gently back in the bassinet. "(name)..." Tommy starts as you can already hear the dramatic sound effects being added in post-production.

"Tommy..." you tease back, leaning more closely in as he too does the same, your noses almost touching before you both pull back with a laugh. "Well, I can officially say that you did NOT in fact kill the baby, and you did better than Angela, congrats! But the bar was already on the floor-"

"I. Am. NOT. A. Bad. Parent. You take those words back Tommy!" Angela shouts once again, turning up in the most unknown of places and all you can do is laugh, loving this bit of the video before doing your outro to the camera.

"Thank you all for getting through this video, if you see a new fuzzy child on either me or Spencers instagrams in the near future... you now knew why," you laugh a bit before continuing. "So please like, subscribe, share this to all your friends and family to show them how much of a better parent you could probably be than me!"

And the camera fades to black.

─────── · ·

🔔 Smosh Pit just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Another Smosh Baby?!

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 67k | 👎 8.36M subscribers 300k views 1 week ago it's official... click to read more

1,110 Comments

username01 (name) and spencer are couple goals. like did anyone elses heart hurt during that montage. i would sell my literal soul to have that at least once in my life, even if just for an hour or two...

↳ username88 woah okay my dude, do you want to talk about it because damn? ↳ username01 god i was really in my feels when i wrote that shit lol...

username20 Those "Angela not being a good mom" bits throughout the video were so funny. It was like something out of a horror film mixed with looney tunes logic XD

username14 24:01 That montage was giving me the UP movie scene and I was not ready to cry like that on my lunch break 😭 ughhh why must they be so perfect with one another

username54 Anyone else wondering where Tommy keeps getting all these kids from? LMAO /positive

username70 OMG (name) and Spencers new cat is so cute!!!!!

↳ username88 OMG OMG OMG, what did they end of naming she/him/them??? ↳ username70 They ended up adopting a stray, she is called Dee! (last name twenty)! ↳ username88 so cute! i am so happy for them 😭🫶 ↳ username70 me too, me too. 😭

username19 (names) change up from the start of the video is so visually poetic, the arts department and editing bay were both COOKING on this one. Chefs Kiss! 😘

username30 15:24 yeah sure... you both are virgins mhmmm.

username45 when (name) and Spencers wedding happens its going to be a civic holiday, i'm telling you this now. we all are not readddyyyy for itttt

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: I wrote this surprisingly quickly- hope you all enjoyed, let me know what you want more of or if you'd like to see something different! 😄

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2

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i-am-married-to-keith-kogane · 4 months ago

Note

Keith dating hcs please!! and im so glad that their is people still doing voltron! i love that show so so much and I feel like the fandom is dying so quickly😭

hiii!!

ofc i can do keith dating headcanons lovely! im so glad you like voltron too, its taken over my life once again and its sad coming back to the fandom with just a little of us left but i want to continue posting/writing about voltron to keep it alive on tumblr with some other talented creators!!

✦KEITH KOGANE DATING HCS✦

✦before confessing his feelings to you, he had to ask lance for some help

✦it took a lot of contemplating and hyping up but he finally got there!

✦keith would struggle a little at the beginning of the relationship since he's worried you'll leave him for someone better. he would spend nights just staring at his ceiling and thinking how much better off you would be with someone else.

✦though overtime those thoughts would fade away but not completely.

✦he would try to flirt with you, but he'd become very flustered and awkward but you thought it was very adorable by the effort he'd put into it!

✦he is very against PDA (aka public display of affection)!!

✦if you break it, expect a very grumpy, pouty and flustered keith.

✦keith is VERY clingy in your relationship, he’ll just want to constantly be near you especially in social situations.

✦keith gets jealous, he just does. he's scared people are gonna steal you from him.

✦once while on a mission with him, this alien took it upon themself to start flirting with you (because who wouldn't😍), keith caught up on this and let me tell you, he was mad.

✦he completely broke the 'no PDA' rule. he wrapped you around in his arm and said "excuse me, but she's taken" with a deadpanned face. man was not having it.

✦i feel like his galra side would make him very territorial, which includes things that belong to him and his personal space.

✦your his and he's yours.

✦surprisingly the only thing that he let pass from his 'no PDA' rule is hand holding, ONLY if he knows that no one else notices (especially Lance or Pidge, they just love to tease him).

✦but they know, they're just snickering quietly to themselves, but shiro keeps them quiet for keith's sake(space dad!!)

✦okay if you guys sleep together, keith demands morning kisses. its the first thing he needs wants. when he wakes up don't be surprised to be showered in kisses!

✦this man does NOT care about morning breath, he just loves you so much!!

✦though, if you sleep in your own beds let say, he'll just brush his teeth (as will you🫵)

✦i feel like keith's hugs will be super comforting and long, especially if he's feeling a little sleepy (and he may just hug you around the other paladins if he is really tired)

✦(yk sometime you just got to break the rule, he just can't resist hugging you. it just makes him feel so warm and comforted.)

✦we all know that keith loves you to bits but he does get embarrassed about what the others will think when they see him so lovey dovey and intimate.

✦he needs to keep the tough guy act okay, its a full-time job (its really not)

✦but just keep reminding him to be himself ☻!!

OKAY WE'VE MADE IT TO CUDDLING!!!!

✦(im sorry i just love cuddles💗 ahhhh)

✦this man would sell his soul for a cuddle from you. IN PRIVATE sadly.

✦he loves little snuggles before drifting off to sleep after an exhausting day.

✦he loves when you pepper kisses all over his face, neck, collarbone and shoulders

✦he also loves when you play or run your fingers through his hair, he finds it so soothing.

✦also don't deny any of his affection! IT WILL SEND THIS DUDE INTO SEVERE POUTY-NESS.

✦he just loves you so so so much!! so it will break his heart (not literally).

✦your the definition of the sun to his moon.♥︎

(i dont think i used that correctly ☹︎ but trust the thought process)

✦you always have to remind him that if he dies, you die too. in hope to make him less reckless on missions (he's still reckless).

✦also before he leaves for a mission he always gives you a sweet little kiss at the forehead/temple and definitely expect a kiss when he gets back!!

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

✦in the end he loves you dearly and would do anything for you ☻♥︎

★。＼｜／。★

-love,

. marra✧˖*°࿐

★。／｜＼。★

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everythingisromant1c · 4 months ago

Text

It's Always Been You - Chapter 4

james potter x fem!reader

summary - With rumors flying all around the school, it seems like the very last thing you need is any more drama. Nevertheless, it's come time for the annual party in the Gryffindor common room, and something in your gut is telling you that the drama isn't going to die down just yet.

wc [5.0k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 3 - Chapter 5 ->

You didn't know why you'd let Marlene and Lily talk you into thinking your outfit was a good idea. It had felt like it'd be something fun and new while you were coddled in the comfort of your dorm, but now that you were in the crowded Gryffindor common room in the middle of a party, you reckoned you'd give it twenty more minutes before you went back upstairs to change.

The fabric of your top hugged your body in a way you didn't think you'd ever get used to, and the stoop of the neckline only had you more on edge. You toyed with the necklace you were wearing, idling against the steps on the far side of the bustling room.

"Stop overthinking your outfit and go party."

Marlene strolled in from next to you wearing a tired smirk, swirling around a cup of something you couldn't see but could certainly smell.

Your lips parted in surprise. "How did you-"

"Your face gives away how you're feeling like reading a book." She took a sip of her drink, wincing. "Surprised Potter hasn't found out you're in lo-"

With widened eyes you swatted her in the arm, coming close to knocking over her beloved drink. She reeled back. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Not so loud." You scolded in a hushed tone, peeking around at the dozens of people hovering around the both of you in the tight space of the common room. "And I'm not in love with him, Marlene." You crossed your arms in front of your chest, rubbing at the sides of them. "I'm over him."

"First of all, it's a party. No one can hear us." You looked past Marlene to all the dancing people around you, rowdy and probably not listening, and sighed. She was probably right, but that didn't change the fact that her voicing your feeling for James allowed made your mind flare in alarm, especially after all the rumors going around. "You know I'm right," she deadpanned. "Second of all, no you're not."

You stared at her confusedly, until she mouthed "over James."

Your lips parted in offense. "Yes I am." She titled her head at you like she pitied you and it made you want to shake her senseless until she believed you. "I've been moving on steadily," you chided again, nodding like you were declaring it to yourself too. "I mean it."

And you did. At least you were trying to mean it. That didn't mean it wasn't hard.

You'd been wandering through the crowd in search of nothing in particular, maybe a drink, when you heard a laugh—James's laugh. He'd always had the kind of laugh that you always recognize, even across a crowded room. It was filled with a bubbling homeliness that you always found yourself missing, and right now, it had you finally making your way towards him through the crowd. You felt a surge of nervousness settle underneath your skin when you saw him.

You came to stand behind him, finding him with Remus, and tapped him on his shoulder. He turned curiously behind him, noticing it was you who had tapped him as his face greeted yours with a smile.

You opened your mouth to say hello, but a dancing someone bumped into you from behind, sending you stumbling forward. James caught you, hands steadily holding your waist as your hands braced against his chest.

You knew you'd flushed right away, feeling the warmth on your cheeks as soon as you felt James's firm chest beneath your fingers. You didn't think he noticed though, because he was too busy trying to scope out whoever had bumped into you.

"Hey," he called sternly to the boy now to your right, tone harboring indignation. You shook your head, gingerly squeezing James's arm to get his attention. You ignored the obvious muscles of his bicep in your hand.

"Don't worry about it," you told James lowly. "It was probably an accident."

He turned back to you, hands still holding onto your waist steadyingly. "He pushed you."

You smiled in affection at his reaction. "It's a party. And I'm fine, promise."

Letting out a breath through his nose, James relented, turning to give you his full attention. A second went by before he said anything, and you hated how focused you were on the feelings of his hands still on your waist, meeting the bare skin revealed by the top you were wearing.

"Wow," he whispered. He said something else that you couldn't hear, and you frowned.

"What?" you asked, and right away James stooped his head downwards so that his lips rested right by your ear.

"I said," he began softly, hand still braced on your torso as your entire body lit aflame. "You look beautiful."

You were momentarily stunned, basking in the way just the three words had you speechless in his arms. You looked down at your shoes, James's eyes trained on you with interest.

"James," you whispered reluctantly as he complimented you, and he let a lopsided grin plaster over his lips. He stooped down further and met your lowered eyes with a glimmer in his own, not letting you escape him.

"I mean it," he insisted softly.

He stood back up fully, taking a step back, and you could finally think straight. But then you took in his own appearance and your mind was hazing over again, because all you could think about was how good he looked.

His chocolatey curls were perfectly messy but shining, and the formfitting t-shirt he was wearing paired with his jeans made him look like he came straight out of a catalog, though you were sure he hadn't given more than a second thought to the outfit. James always looked effortlessly handsome in that way.

Before you could compliment him back, you heard a voice call James's name. He turned towards it, a familiar boy greeting him with a rugged hug. When they pulled apart, he began asking him something about Quidditch.

As Captain, James had been determined to assemble a winning team that year, something he'd mentioned in his letters to you over the summer. The two began talking more avidly, and you took that as your time to leave and go find the others. James noticed right away and turned to you, lightly holding your elbow.

"Where are you off to, Love?"

Love. You shook the word away. "I'm just gonna go find the guys."

James nodded but looked troubled, glancing between the boy he was talking to and you. You put your hand on his, nodding reassuringly. "It's alright," you promised. "I'll meet you in a bit?"

He thought for a second before nodding. You walked off, soon hearing him strike up more conversation with the boy from behind you, their voices raised over the loud music. You went to go find something to drink, to chase away whatever you'd just felt talking to James.

A few more hours into the night had people's brains turning fuzzier, movements turning loser, and laughter getting louder. You'd went back up to your dorm room for a minute to use the bathroom, the line in the common room much too long, and by the time you came back down the stairs, a small crowd had gathered around the couch and fireplace in a circle.

You took in the scene with interest as you neared it, seeing all your friends compiled in the group too. Half sat lazily on the couch and half on the floor with their backs to the lowly simmering fire. Then you noticed the bottle sitting in the center of the circle, noticing the round of Spin the Bottle going on with dreadful recognition.

Seeing you, Marlene immediately called you over and you shook your head right away.

"Absolutely not," you said before she could even get the words out to ask you to join.

She scoffed, pouting. "Come on, even Lily's playing."

From beside her, the ginger reeled at her tone offensively.

"Oh please," argued Marlene before turning back to you. She yanked your arm excitedly until you were sitting on the ground next to her, facing the couch where James, Sirius, Peter, and a few other students sat.

Remus stood leaning against the back of the couch with a bottle to his lips, and you caught his glimmering eyes as he dryly smiled down at you before tipping his head back to drink. You noticed the bottle he held in his hands was the same as the one that sat in the middle of the haphazard circle you'd all made.

You wanted to leave, figuring that there were probably few people in the entirety of the room you'd be remotely okay with kissing, but Marlene wasn't having any of it. You watched reluctance as Mary explained the rules of the game to everyone, jittery and full of suggestive smiles.

You let your eyes drift to where James sat in front of you on the couch, and he met your nervous eyes with a sort of amused twinkle in his own, seeming absolutely unfazed by the idea of the game. You gave him the most casual smile you could and he leaned back in his seat, legs sprawled lazily with his arm around the back of the sofa. He tilted his head to the side and made a weird but funny face down at you. You laughed under your breath, hiding it behind your hand from Marlene who you could feel watching your interaction through your peripheral.

"Everyone gets a turn," instructed Mary, voice fighting against the tunes of ABBA in the background. "Whoever the bottle lands on you have to kiss. Simple." She pointed a warning finger around. "Kisses on the cheek will not be tolerated."

The circle all gave chuckles of their own, while the uneasiness of it all set you on edge.

"If you opt out of a kiss you have to drink up to the next line." Mary picked up the bottle in the middle of the circle, and you watched as she pointed to the black lines drawn on the side of the glass bottle. "And don't worry, we made sure to get the strong stuff, so be wise about opting out!" More laughing came as she winked, putting the bottle back down on its side.

"I think I'll go first," she said, a satisfied smile plastering itself to her glossed-over lips.

Crawling forward onto her knees, she reached for the bottle on the floor in front of her and spun it. Every pair of eyes watched intently as it went round and round before landing slightly to your left, pointing to the blonde-haired girl beside you.

Immediately people cheered and laughed, watching it all go down with fascinated interest fueled by the many drinks of the night.

"Drink up Mary," joked Peter from the couch. Mary smiled even more than she already was, looking up at him with a tilted head.

"Why would I?"

Then she crawled back next to Marlene who met her with an interested raise of her brows, and waited just a second before leaning forward and kissing the blonde. Wolf whistles and cheers exploded from all around at the kiss.

You turned back to your two friends as they pulled away from each other, cheeky grins encapsulating their faces.

"Who's next?" asked Mary, unfazed as she sat back in her spot.

Sirius looked between the two girls with a slack jaw. "That was hot."

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at Marlene from next to you and nudging her in the arm playfully, happy to be on the other end of the gesture. She ignored you and kept her eyes forward inside the circle, but that didn't stop you from noticing her trying to bite back her smile.

The game continued, going clockwise around the circle from Mary. There were more kisses shared and more wolf-whistling, the bottle in the middle slowly draining after each swig that had your classmates wincing painfully every time.

The game had gotten to the other side of the circle, reaching where Remus stood against the back of the couch.

"Come on Lupin," sang Frank from across the circle. Remus shook his head, arms crossed.

"Count me out." He held up the drink that was already in his hand and knocking it back swiftly. How he could drink it so easily, you had no clue.

"Alright then," complied Mary, clapping her hands together. "Who's next?"

You all followed the line of sight from Remus over to his right, where James sat in conversation with Sirius to his own right.

"Potter!" Mary yelled, and the brunette's eyes snapped over in alarm to where she and her pointed look sat on the ground. "You're up."

Brows raised, he sat up straighter in his seat, laughing softly. A horrifying fact struck you as his eyes landed on the bottle before him—no matter where it landed, you didn't think you'd be okay with whatever followed.

Whoever the bottle landed on, you'd have to watch as James kissed a girl right in front of you and act completely unphased by it. Even with all the talks you'd had with him about Lily, you weren't even sure that was something you could do. You told yourself it didn't matter and that it was part of some game. That didn't change the fact that actually watching him with someone else might hurt too much.

James, who was directly across from you, sat completely forward on the couch to reach for the bottle and his eyes met yours through his dark lashes. The sides of his mouth perked up in a boyish grin and you let yours do the same, albeit strained. You didn't like the way you could hear your own heart start to pick up as James's hand neared the bottle.

He focused back on it, fingers winding the cool glass before spinning it. Everything seemed to slow down in the seconds that it slid in circles on the maroon rug beneath it, a dizzying feeling taking over you. It seemed to spin for hours, each pair of eyes in the group plastered to it like it was something hypnotizing. You swore that the second the bottle stilled, so did your heartbeat and all the thoughts in your head.

It was pointing at you. It was pointing at you.

A red-hot feeling of alarm blared in your chest, your thin smile dropping as you swallowed. Nobody had said anything yet, or maybe you just couldn't hear them over the blood rushing through your ears.

You slowly looked up from the bottle that remained aimed straight at you and up to James, who sat directly on the other end of it. He was already watching you.

You couldn't read from his face what he was thinking, but the intensity with which his eyes met yours made something in your chest pinch. The two of you looked at each other wordlessly for a second before James looked away first, looking down and rubbing at his neck. Sirius shook his shoulder.

"The bottle has spoken," he rang mockingly, grin a mile wide as he looked between the both of you. "C'mon you two."

"Yeah," urged Peter, and others started to join in, shouts of agreement and clapping ringing through your ears from all directions. James looked around at everyone besides you, shaking his head.

"There won't be any kissing." He said it like it was something clear, something that should've been known from the start. You watched him, unmoving. You didn't know what to think, lips parted as you sat helplessly on the ground.

A few people booed, disappointment evident. Sirius scoffed, sighing. "Then drink up, mate."

You looked on as James shifted his gaze to the bottle in front of him wordlessly. You knew he didn't dare drink around Quidditch season and that he was leading Gryffindor's first practice on Monday, but he still leaned forward to pick up the bottle. You didn't even recognize what you were doing until you said the words.

"It's okay."

James's eyes snapped up to look at you, actions pausing abruptly. He frowned down at you, brows softly furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"It's okay," you repeated, not knowing what the hell you were doing. You could feel the stares of everyone pricking on your skin. "Don't ... don't drink it."

He retracted his arm away from the bottle again, sitting up. "Are- ... are you sure?"

Absolutely not.

"Yeah."

A beat passed before everyone began cheering again, and you felt like crawling into yourself because you really didn't think this through. Kissing your best friend? That sure was one way to get over him.

You took an unsteady breath in as you sat up onto your heels, eyes set on James expectantly. When he realized you were serious, you watched as he sat up even straighter, a muscle in his jaw working as he peered at you.

He still seemed unbelieving, so you nodded at him assuringly, trying to seem lighthearted while your heart beat heavily. With a note of seriousness, he surveyed you for another second before finally getting out of his seat and nearing where you sat on the ground, sinking to a knee.

The low base of the music seemed to beat in time with your own heart, the sound seeming louder than anything else in the room to you. James's eyes never left yours despite it all, the never-ending glow of his hazel eyes weighing into your own with his gaze that seemed to sink your stomach bottomlessly. Then he got closer, leaning forward hesitantly like you'd fly away with quick movement, a mesmerizing sight.

Did he look at all the girls he kissed like that? How many girls had he kissed? How many girls had been on the other end of that look before? Merlin knows how many wanted to be. You knew people were watching, waiting, but it felt like it was just you and James in a sea of blurred sights and sounds.

A curl of his brushed against your head, soft enough to send a rush through you. Were you really about to do this?

Like he was reading your mind, he whispered, "We don't have to, you know."

You nodded delicately, but steadily. "I know."

His eyes seemed to dance in circles around your face, floating from either of your eyes and then down to your lips. You went still, letting your eyes fan shut at the feeling of his hand softly holding your cheek.

Behind the black cloaks of your eyelids, you couldn't see anything at all, only feel. You sat still, waiting for what you knew was coming, for the feeling of James's lips.

In a second, they brushed against yours, feather-light and hesitant. His fingers grazed over your cheekbone. Sightless, you leaned forward in the darkness like jumping into unknown waters, and it was you who closed the distance.

Your lips met with shyness, the kind that had every inch of you buzzing. His lips were soft, gentle and forgiving, until you felt James lean into the kiss, deepening it like something inside of him was pulling him closer to you, something he couldn't deny. The feeling consumed you and it felt like you were suffocating. Not because of a lack of air but because of the storm of butterflies that seemed to crash through you right away.

You'd expected him to pull away after a second, make the kiss as short as possible. But he didn't; Neither did you.

It struck you like the crash of a wave how much you liked kissing him, how natural it felt. People around you were cheering and whooping and, for a second, it felt like it was the sound of something right, of this thing you'd had for James ending in success. But you knew that wasn't true. It was anything but.

In alarm at just how public the kiss was, you finally pulled away, not knowing how long it had even lasted.

You were breathless, chest rising and sinking rapidly. You took in the sight of James, eyes scanning over his flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips that had some of your lip gloss on them. It made you dizzy to think that you'd been the one to put it there.

You met his eyes and, like a magnet, the way he seemed to look at you made it feel impossible to move, made all the other sounds in the common room drown away. He swallowed, eyes flickering between both of yours, and you still couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Like coming up for air, you finally looked away from him and let yourself face everyone around you who'd seen it all, watching as your heart seemed to swell for the few seconds that the kiss lasted and then shrivel back up right before their eyes.

They each sported their own looks of both surprise and entertainment, clapping and whistling following the two of you the whole time it took James to sit back down on the couch.

There seemed to be an underlying hesitancy for a moment, like there was more to be said, but it vanished as fast as it came and Mary was calling for the next turn like clockwork.

For a moment it felt as if maybe the whole thing hadn't really happened at all, like it had been something your mind imagined in desperation. But from the way James looked, you knew it had happened.

You glanced up at him again and he was already looking at you. Pathetically, with the little strength you had left in you, you offered him another strained smile. He didn't give one back.

Your heart dropped and it felt like you were sinking. You looked away again, trying to focus on the game as if an earthquake wasn't rattling your brain all the while. You felt James look away from you finally, staring somewhere low towards his hands, maybe the rug, eyes blown wide, expression unrevealing.

You didn't think you could sit there any longer. Had he figured out how you feel about him? Was he trying to think of a way to let you down easily?

You could almost feel both Marlene and Lily's gazes on your face from either side, not helping you feel any less suffocated.

Sirius had taken his turn, kissing a girl in the year below, but you hadn't paid true attention to any of it. By the time Peter was spinning the bottle you felt your legs standing up from beneath you.

Lily stopped you, grabbing your hand as she whispered, "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," you answered plainly, squeezing her hand reassuringly before letting go of it and leaving the circle of people. You had to push your way through the crowded room to get to the nearest bathroom in the dormitories.

Once you got inside, you walked towards the sink, taking in your appearance. You looked like you'd seen a ghost. Your first instinct was to splash water on your face, wake yourself up from whatever the hell was going on, but stopped yourself, remembering the makeup you were wearing.

It wasn't fair. This wasn't fair.

Maybe it was your own fault for even going through with the kiss, but that was something you blamed on the drink you'd had and the circle of people surrounding you, waiting. You'd thought it would be a peck, something that'd give you a blush that you could hide in the low lighting of the party, nothing more. You'd been doing good—good about not thinking about your feelings for James, that is.

But nothing could have prepared you for what you were feeling now: Confusion, because how could he have kissed you like that if it wouldn't mean anything tomorrow? Frustration with yourself, because you felt your control slipping from your grasp with every breath you took, with the way your lips still simmered from the kiss.

Everything you'd done to protect yourself, to stop yourself from feeling the hurt you'd become accustomed to for years, was becoming useless. The months you spent away in France over the summer trying to forget about James and his warm gaze and stupidly cute smile were being shot down the drain.

It felt so unfair. You were so sure you were losing feelings. It must have been a temporary trick of the mind because, through just a few moments, you felt that pit in your stomach that told you were rapidly falling back down to square one.

You had to pull yourself together and snap out of whatever this was. You knew where this helpless road ended and you weren't going to let one night ruin the rest of your year.

James didn't feel the same about you as you did for him—it was plain and simple. He never had, and he never would.

Not when you were his best friend, his "number one wingman." Not when Lily was around, effortlessly graceful and the sole person who'd had James whipped for years.

With a sting in your heart, you thought back to the moments before the kiss, where James had spun the bottle, probably hoping it would land on the red-haired girl beside you, only for it to land on you. Hell, he was even willing to drink from that mystery bottle if it meant he wouldn't have to kiss you. You thought back to the dream—or nightmare, really—that you'd had that summer, and the way James's words had stung you to the point where you could really feel it, even if it was a dream.

"As if I'd ever see you in that way..."

"...Dating you would be like dating my little sister..."

"...You're not Lily, alright? You never will be."

You probably looked desperate before the kiss, making him feel like he had to kiss you after you so plainly asked him to. You looked the part now, taking in your reflection in the mirror that blurred from your watering eyes.

You wiped them right away, feeling ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous. You weren't going to cry in a bathroom during a party over a kiss; you had that much pride.

You took another second to pull yourself together before leaving the bathroom, fighting through the crowd of people again to find that your friends weren't where you left them, but on the other side of the room by the drinks table.

You made your way over to them, frowning. "What happened to Spin the Bottle?"

Marlene, Mary, and Lily all turned towards you in unison, the latter scanning over you like a worried mother. "Are you alright?"

You nodded quickly, dismissive. "Yeah, I'm fine. What happened to the game?" The three of them shared a look before Mary answered you.

"It kinda died down after you and James left."

You paused, looking between them with a concerned frown and dread that you couldn't hide. "James left?" They nodded. "Where did he go?"

Marlene shrugged. "Don't know." Then, she spotted something from behind you, waving a hand. "Hey, Black!" she snapped, and you turned to see Sirius, Remus, and Peter coming down the steps from the boys' dormitories. Sirius noticed her calling and the three of them came over to where you stood.

"What happened to Potter?" Marlene demanded for you. "Where'd he go?"

At the question, Sirius seemed to pause, glancing to the others briefly.

"He was tired," Remus answered for him. "Wanted to get get good sleep for Quidditch practice or something."

Marlene looked between the three of them skeptically, before nodding. "Right," she drawled, and moved to leave, walking between Sirius and Remus. Lily and Mary followed, but you stayed behind.

"Quidditch practice starts on Monday," you said flatly after they left, staring between the three boys who stood shifty before you.

"He said he doesn't feel like partying anymore," said Peter quickly, and the two others turned to him as if he'd spilled some sort of secret. You frowned, worry and confusion evident in your expression.

"Look," said Sirius with a sober tone. "We don't know for sure why he's went off to bed, but you can probably guess."

You stared at him and his serious expression, and realized with a twinge in your chest that you probably could: He was avoiding you.

"Yeah," you agreed lowly, head tipped downwards—you should've never kissed him. But you knew you couldn't take it back now.

You let your eyes wander from the floor to the table of drinks next to you, figuring that maybe a drink could do you some good.

Taking hold of a cup that was already filled amongst the rows of others, against your better judgement, you tipped your head back and drank from it until your throat burned and the cup felt light in your hands. You heard Peter gasp in surprise.

"Hey, woah," Remus chided, taking the cup from your hands. "I don't need every last one of you hungover tomorrow, yeah?"

You squinted at him, whether from the taste of the alcohol or your annoyance you didn't know. "You've been drinking all bloody night."

Sirius laughed from next to you, taking your cup from Remus and finishing whatever little was left. "Moony has a conceringly high alcholol tolerance." Peter nodded in agreement, Remus shrugging as you glared at him.

"Fine," you said, pressing a hand to your temple. The smell of alcohol mixed with the blaring music and whatever you were feeling right then was giving you a headache, and the quiet of your dorm room was starting to sound a little too appeasing. Plus, you had the feeling your mind wouldn't find peace unless you went to sleep

"Maybe I should just go to bed too." You chewed at the inside of your bottom lip. "Tell James I said goodnight when you see him." You didn't miss the way the three of them glanced around at each other concernedly but nodded anyway. "See you guys in the morning."

You waved goodbye to them and made the walk back towards the girls' dorms, finding Marlene and Lily in the crowd and wishing them goodnight too.

In the time it took you to get ready for bed, you decided that tomorrow you were going to move on—seriously move on—from whatever happened tonight, and the past few nights, and maybe the past few years too. You didn't think you had the mental strength to keep worrying, especially not when you'd been trying to stop your mind from replaying your kiss with James in your head for the last thirty minutes.

You crashed down onto your bed, feeling like you carried the weight of the world on your chest but convincing yourself it was only a feather if only to fall asleep for the night. You might've ruined everything, but at least your bed was comfy.

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago

Note

What Logan and Wade learned when it comes to Isekai Gremlin reader:

Goes feral if not fed for too long

Filthiest potty mouth

Stares into space/zones out

Will sleep no matter what condition of the place can and will sleep on the ground

Personality flipping like a dice

Will randomly goes zoomies

Can and will act like a rapid animal when feeling the nibbles

Will say the most unhinged things at wrong and right times w/ Wade egging them on

Ex: trio sees hanged body

Wade: It looks like he hung himself

Reader:...

Reader: Hung himself like a piñata?

Logan:😑

Reader: should I hit him like a piñata?

Wade: *hands them a pipe*

Logan: WADE NO-

They’ve learned a lot of things about isekai gremlin reader along the way and it’s truly been an experience to say the least for them 😂

Sleep deprived gremlin reader: who is that lady over there in the chair *points to the corner of the room*

logan and Wade: look to see but see nothing and look back at sleep deprived gremlins reader* WHAT FUCKING LADY?!

Could you imagine that lovely trio in the void and they meet electra, blade, Laura and Remy but the moment reader/you see Remy the first thing to come out your mouth is:

My nAMe jeFF.

Everyone just falls silent and now you’ve officially made it awkward. Well done.

You/ gremlin reader: oh my gosh, I just embarrassed myself in front of my celebrity crush how oopsie doopsie of me *giggles*

Wade: THE FUCKER DIDNT EVEN FET HIS OWN FILM WHAT DO YOU MEAN-

Johnny storm, trying to please his case to Cassandra: I didn’t say any of that, he’s lying they’re all fucking lying! Especially that little rodent fucker *points to you as you eat something that you probably shouldn’t*

You/gremlin reader: *stars at him deadpan* you said you’d piss on her corpse before fucking it while gargling Jugernaughts jugernuts. Two can play at this game Chris Evans.

Johnny: who the fuck is that-

Wade: they’re learning from the best

Logan: YOUR BOTH GOING TO GET HIM KILLED

Gremlin Reader/ you: good riddance cuz he’s too fucking weak to hang with us if this is how easily he cracks under pressure. God knows what he’d be like when tortured…slowly and painfully.

Logan and Wade: 💀👀

Gremlin reader/you: I will watch as the crimson blood leak from your neck! *points sharp plastic knife*

Wade: that kid is hardcore goth!

Logan: hardcore goth!

Life with Wade, Logan and reader/ you is never a simple one and besides simple is boring, let chaos and mischief reign supreme!

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWO

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni, eddie is especially mean in this one (be warned), mentions of blood (in metaphors, not literal)

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 4k+

→ a/n: i just wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you for all the love on the first chapter of this!! i appreciate it beyond words <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

2:00 ─ㅇ───────────────── 24:00

HOUR TWO - 5:00 PM

It’s a miracle. Eddie is surprisingly quiet for the first hour after your small kitchen dispute.

He resides reading a book on one end of his couch as you sit awkwardly on the other end, fiddling with your hands before finally caving and deciding to scroll mindlessly on your phone. You exhaust every social media app you have downloaded – Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr – before finally turning to Tik Tok. Adjusting your volume doesn’t even cross your mind.

That’s all it takes to finally set Eddie off.

It starts small; he shifts around after the first video, a prolonged sigh after the second video, a quick side-eye after the third video. Finally, after the fourth video and no sign of you turning down the volume, he huffs and snaps his book shut.

“Do you have to watch that shit so loudly?”

His tone is laden with utter annoyance. You’re caught off guard initially, having blatantly ignored his previous signs of being irritated by the noise, and your head whips up in his direction with wide eyes. The shocked look on your face quickly contorts when you catch his stare, full of hatred and vexation.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you scoff, “Let me just die of boredom I guess.”

“I didn’t say you had to do that,” he narrows his gaze and matches your attitude with ease, “Just… solve the boredom quietly. Like I did.”

“You were quiet because you had a book. I don’t have a book.”

He waves an exasperated hand towards the coffee table where you catch sight of a few magazines, “Please, take your pick.”

You lock your phone reluctantly, tucking it beneath your thigh as you lean forward to glance over your options. There’s one about cars, obvious by the shiny vehicle that sits pretty on the cover, and a few hidden beneath it. You reach out and shift the laminated papers about and catch sight of a Rolling Stone cover.

That one piques your interest, but stubborn as ever, you won’t admit it.

“Those are the most boring fucking magazines I’ve ever seen. Who the hell likes to read about cars?” you deadpan, holding the car magazine up with a scowl.

“Me.”

“Predictable. What’s next, a Playboy?”

“You’re hilarious,” he says without a hint of amusement, “Truly a comedian. Can’t you just see the tears streaming out of my eyes from how hard I’m laughing? Incredible.”

You decide to not entertain him any further. Your hand grabs the Rolling Stone magazine, ignoring his burning gaze before you settle back into the couch.

If he wanted to be a dick, that was fine. You were used to it by now; you’d spent the last year growing accustomed to his cold shoulders and his bitter moods around you. At this point, you expected nothing less from him. Spending a little extra time together didn’t magically change it – at both your cores, you harbored a disdain like no other. You fundamentally hated Eddie, and Eddie fundamentally hated you. The confined space, forced proximity, ticking doomsday clock, and promise of cash did nothing to put any notches in those feelings.

“Interesting choice,” he murmurs under his breath, beginning to relax back into the cushions as well.

“What? Is it a crime for me to like-” you pause, flipping the magazine shut to check the slick cover for what the specific issue was even about, “-The Ramones?”

So maybe saying you liked The Ramones was an overstatement. But at this point, you’re only picking a fight for the sake of picking a fight. Because you don’t know how else to communicate with Eddie aside from with a sharp tongue and turbulent sense of sarcasm. Because when it came to the two of you, there was no such thing as small talk.

Everything was always big. Loud. Screaming matches, bold assumptions, critical insults.

“Pump the bitch breaks,” his eyebrows furrow, as they always do when he glances your way, “I was trying to be civil.”

“I didn’t think civil was in your vocabulary when it came to me.”

He exhales deeply, letting his head fall back in contempt for a moment before he lifts it and looks at you, “Is this really how you want it to be?”

You don’t reply, and he takes it as his cue to continue.

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours? Won’t it get exhausting acting like a spoiled brat for that long?”

“I’m not acting like a spoiled brat,” you snap, the magazine now discarded and draped across your knee, open to a random spread, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not an act. Make no mistake, Munson, I am only doing this for the cash.”

His book lays to gather dust on the coffee table as he leans his elbows onto his knees, twisting his body ever so slightly to face you more fully, “Really? There’s gotta be easier ways to make cash. I’m sure if you asked Stevie boy real nicely, he would have let you put that mouth to use for a quick buc-”

You cut him off, because you know how this sentence ends, and it’s too far. He’s crossed a line. You had expected it, should have seen it coming sooner, but it’s crossing a line all the same.

“Stop,” you firmly instruct, holding up a finger, “Not that it’s any of your miserable business, but me and Steve are not like that. At all. So you can fuck right off with that comment,” you only pause briefly, and you’re glad when he doesn’t interrupt you, “And, may I remind you, you’re also getting payment out of this. I could say the same thing to you, dickwad.”

It had been a curious itch beneath your skin – you knew why you needed the extra cash so badly, but you had no idea why Eddie did. Beneath all the hate, all the irritation, the question had come to mind briefly. But it had been pushed down by disinterest in all things regarding the man before you. At the end of the day, you didn’t care what motivated him. You didn’t care about what he did for work, you didn’t care about what magazines he read, and you definitely didn’t care to know if the five hundred was as necessary for him as it was for you.

This was a means to an end – nothing more, nothing less.

“Dickwad?” His nose crinkles as he parrots your words back to you, “Jesus, did you ever learn any new insults past middle school?”

You’re ignoring him once more, picking the magazine up off of your knee and burying your nose in an article about the greatest punk albums of all time rather than letting yourself be dragged into further conversation with him, trying to send the message that this discussion was over.

The message isn’t received. It flies right over his head.

“Pardon me for the assumption,” you can see him hold his hands up in mock surrender in your peripherals, “You and Harrington just seem close.”

You should just keep ignoring him. You should actually read the words inches from your face. You shouldn’t say another word; your gut is screaming at you to not say another word.

But you ignore your gut, just as he’d ignore your disinterest in talking to him.

“What happened to being quiet? I think I liked it better when you weren’t speaking to me,” you try to say casually, keeping an air of indifference. You should have known better. As your mother always said, once you start feeding a stray, they continue to come back.

“Sounds like it’s a sore spot. Are you and Harrington that close?”

“Not in that way,” you grit out behind the pages, “We’re close, but not like that.”

Your answer doesn’t satisfy him like you’d hoped, “Oh, it is so a sore spot.”

When you finally drop the magazine to properly look at him again, it only fans the anger. He looks smug as he crosses his ankle atop his knee, leaning back and looking you over as if he can read you like cellophane.

“It’s not,” you stress, “Seriously. Drop it.”

In all truthfulness, it wasn’t a sore spot – not when it came to Steve. You’d always been strictly platonic, fitting fairly effortlessly into his and Robin’s friendship.

“You definitely want to fuck Steve.”

“You know what I actually want right now?”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“To knock your teeth in.”

The magazine is tossed back onto the table, nearly sliding off the edge from the force behind your throw. He’s relishing the way you’re continuing to get more upset, the way he’s still inching beneath your skin in a grating motion. To him, this is all just a joke.

“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” he mocks, smiling with his teeth as if to taunt you.

“Why did you even agree to this?” you finally turn your body towards his and mirror his position, “Is it fun to you? Is that what it is?”

The smile widens, “You know what? Yeah. It is fun to piss you off.”

“Yeah?” you imitate him, putting on a forced smile in an attempt to look as ridiculous as he did right now. You fold your hands and prop your elbows onto your knees, continuing to mock mercilessly as you balance your chin atop them and bat your lashes dramatically, “Please, tell me more. Tell me all about how fun it is.”

In an instant, you drop the smile and begin to return to your previous position. It was rhetorical – you don’t expect a response, and yet he offers one nonetheless.

“Well,” he begins, “First of all, the way you go red in the face is fucking hilarious. Seriously, it’s just like the cartoons. Absolutely ridiculous. I think by the end of this, I’ll get to see steam come out of your ears,” you’re already reaching for your phone, tuning him out, as he continues on, “And then it’s the way you’re just so damn easy. I mean, come on. Sometimes, all I have to do is breathe, and it sends you on a tirade. You just make it too simple, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The nickname is prickly and as uncomfortable as ever, lodging into your ears against your better judgment. It creeps across your brain, travels down your spine, numbs your fingertips. You hate the shockwaves it’s capable of sending down your nerves.

He’s right, at the end of the day. These days, you hardly put up a fight in expressing all your negative emotions towards him. If necessary, you could pinpoint a time where he really did simply breathe and you had proceeded to curse him out for it. Sometimes, just the sight of him can sour your entire mood. He’s an ever-present, persistent, irritating rain-cloud that looms on the edges of your life by circumstance. You can’t get rid of him. You can’t get rid of your hatred for him; you’ve always had a preference for sunny weather.

“Careful,” you hum, not looking his way as you glance down at the time that glows from your lock screen: 5:46 PM. “It almost sounds like you enjoy my presence, Munson.”

Indifference. You needed to practice indifference to survive the next twenty three hours.

“Oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he says, “You are the worst part of my days. You’re like bad leftovers – everytime I see you, the bile immediately rises in my throat. Whenever Steve mentions you’ll be somewhere, I cancel plans. Whenever you show up without warning, I start counting down the minutes till I can get away from you.”

The indifference begins to break. You finally look at him, keeping a steady expression.

“You could go missing, you could vanish off the face of this earth, and I wouldn't blink an eye. As a matter of fact, I’d probably celebrate. Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.”

It hurts. It might be Eddie, and you might be used to his spiteful words he uses as weapons against you, but it still hurts. The sting resembles a slap as you process each of his words. Each deliberate syllable – the specific referencing to the group as his friends and not your friends, the unblinking glare of his dark eyes, the insinuation that your death could bring him joy – drives deeper into your chest. It’s a human reaction; it doesn’t matter if the boy before you is the enemy, it still bruises to hear anyone say such things about you. The human need to be accepted, to be liked, to at least be tolerated, still twists in your gut.

And he only presses forth. He doesn’t catch the pain spreading in your limbs because you don’t let the hurt raging in your chest spread across your face. You don’t let him see you bleed.

“I’d attend your funeral with a party hat and sparklers. Confetti, even. The whole nine yards along with my finest bottle of champagne,” he hammers the final nail into a coffin, one that you’re not sure of whom it belongs to. Maybe it’s yours, sealing you six feet under with your cursed emotions. Maybe it’s his, locking him into the tomb to dwell in his ability to always take things too far.

You won’t let him see you bleed.

You stand abruptly, making him flinch in the slightest. You keep your face turned from him as you take your phone and storm off into the hallway wordlessly.

“Hey! Where are you going?” he calls after you.

But he’s not following you. No footsteps echo your own as you turn into the only other doorway aside from the bathroom.

He has a clear line of sight of you from the couch, and he can see you disappear into his room.

The door slams shut behind you with a riveting bang. Your nimble fingertips fumble with twisting the lock into place, chest heaving as you finally let your eyes burn.

He can’t see you. You finally bleed.

The tears are feverish as they roll down your cheeks one by one, taking slow steps backward as you squeeze them shut and will them away. There are no accompanying whimpers, or sobs, or hiccups. It’s just you, the salty streams, and the now overwhelming scent of him.

He’s only managed to make you cry, make you bleed this way, once before. The night of Steve’s party, the night you had attempted to make him bleed in retaliation. You’d harbored the need to cut him open desperately that night, to crack open his chest and assure yourself he could bleed the same scarlet as you, that there was still a weathered heart behind his calloused ribs that could beat the same as yours.

But you never did. At the end of that night, you had been the only one left bloodied and bandaged, aside from Steve’s glass as collateral damage. He remained unscathed.

The door knob shakes suddenly, and your eyes flash back open. Another shake, and you hear him huffing.

“Seriously? Did you just lock me out of my own room?” His voice comes from the other side of the door.

The bleeding stops. The wound seals. Even if he can’t see you through the door, just to know that his presence resides on the other side of it is enough to put an end to your trembling breaths.

“Fuck off,” you call out hoarsely.

“Let me in. It’s my room.”

“No.”

He sighs, and a thump sounds that you assume is his forehead falling against the wood in defeat, “Why do you insist on acting like a child?”

“You’re the one with a collection of action figures!” you fight back with your weakest insult of the night. He twists the doorknob without fruition a few more times, a couple sharp knocks sound as you turn to get a better look at the room you’d run into without observation.

It’s nothing extravagant, which makes sense. He has an entire apartment to spill his wretched personality across, which means there’s no need to condense it into the decor of his bedroom. He doesn’t have to express himself in a limited space as you do with your dorm. There’s a few posters of various bands hung crookedly on the wall, a dresser with a few of the drawers half open with assortments of clothes peeking out before they overflow onto the carpeted flooring, and a bed left unmade. His jersey sheets are plaid, worn and clearly well-loved. Despite the expected mess trailing about the rest of the floor, the space beside the bed is left cleared, and you decide to settle yourself down onto the patch.

Your phone buzzes in your tight fist as your back settles up against the side of the bed.

“Unlock the door,” his voice persists impatiently again.

“Go to Hell.”

“I’m already there. Stuck with you.”

Maybe the wound isn’t quite sealed, because the words fall like salt into your chest.

“Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.”

There’s more to say, but the chiming of a phone cuts off your thoughts. You glance down to your cell phone – not yours.

The ringing is more muted, behind the door. With Eddie.

It’s Eddie’s phone.

You’re about to call out a snarky remark about him getting that, but the ringing cuts off before you have the chance. It’s clear he’s walked away from the door as the echoes of his voice fades, the conversation inaudible to you through the walls.

Your fingers dig into the carpet beside your thighs as you pull at individual strands that stick out, finally discarding your phone on the opposite side. Eventually, your touch trails closer to the edge of the bed, plucking, plucking, plucking until you collide with laminated paper sticking out from beneath the bed.

What’s this?

Just as you’re about to pull what you assume is a magazine from beneath the bed, your phone begins to buzz violently, this time the ringtone being your own.

The screen lights up with Steve’s contact photo. It can’t be good.

“Hello?” you answer once you pick the phone up after a few moments of pause.

“You can’t lock him out of his own room.”

“Oh, hey, Steve. I’m great, thanks for asking. Really living the drea-”

“You can’t lock him out of his own room,” Steve repeats with more emphasis, disregarding your sarcastic tone completely.

You stare across the room at an acoustic guitar resting on a stand. This machine slays dragons, it reads in bold, white lettering.

“So you were the one who called him,” you mumble.

Steve sighs over the line, “No. Nance called him, because you haven’t sent the proof to the chat yet. We were trying to give you guys a grace period, but-”

“But you assumed we’d already murdered each other,” you finish his sentence.

“Can you blame us? What did he even say to make you board yourself up in his room?”

You scoff softly, “He didn’t tell Nancy?”

The moment Steve mentioned Nancy was the one calling Eddie, you’d simply assumed he’d filled her in.

Before you’d weaseled your way into the friend group, there had been clear, strong bonds already set in place: Robin & Steve, Jonathan & Argyle, and Nancy & Eddie. Three sets of best friends who all wove together to form their large friend group with ease.

You were the odd man out. They never treated you as such, except for Eddie, but it was an insecurity that could eat you alive if you ever gave it the time of day. And maybe that was why Eddie’s earlier words had cut so deeply. He was voicing a fear you always tried to bury deep down.

“No,” Steve says as if it were obvious, “He just started going off about how you had locked him out of his room amongst…. Um, amongst other things.”

Other things. You could guess what those other things had been; no doubt, he’d spent his time on the phone bitching about you. He’d probably called you every crude name in his rolodex of hatefulness.

“Right,” you drawl, eyes flickering around the room to seek out another distraction to mindlessly stare at. Suddenly, you remember the magazine you had discovered just as Steve called, “Well, nothing surprising. The usual, really. Just how he hates my guts, he finds me annoying, he wouldn’t care if I died-”

“-What?”

You ignore Steve’s gasp of disbelief and carry on, “-All the classic insults you would say to your arch nemesis.”

Steve says your name softly, still carrying an air of shock, “He didn’t mean that. I- Listen, he’s an asshole sometimes, but I guarantee he would care-”

“Who cares?” you interrupt, “I don’t blame him. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to care if I meet my untimely demise. I kind of figured he was going to murder me anyways, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was… that was joking around, he…” Steve trails off, because you both know he’s full of shit.

There was no joking around between you and Eddie. A painful truth, considering when you first joined the friend group, you had such high hopes of getting along with him.

“It’s whatever. Do you still need me to send proof?” you ask, fingers now playing with the crumpled edges of the magazine. Even half-hidden, you could see there were pages that had been dog-eared.

You almost don’t hear Steve as he tells you that it’s fine, that now they know the two of you are definitely together. It’s already nearly time for the next check in anyways.

“Alright, in that case…” your tongue peaks out as you begin to tug the magazine out of hiding. The moment the magazine's title comes into sight, you gasp, frozen as the phone nearly slips out of your hand.

Fucking jackpot.

“You good?” Steve asks.

Playboy. A goddamn Playboy magazine.

“Never better,” you rush out, eager to hang up so you can utilize this ammunition against Eddie, “Talk later, Steve-O.”

You don’t give him a chance to echo a goodbye before you hang up, tossing your phone off to the side with a muted thump. Your focus is entirely on the magazine before you, crinkling as you hold it in your hands and bite back laughter.

Against your better judgment, you open the cover, mouth falling open as you flip through page after page of nude women and cigarette ads. Some pages stick together, and you don’t dare to peel them apart, cringing at the thought of just why they’re sticky. You come to the first page that had been dog-earred, and your jaw clicks as your mouth falls agape.

Fucking pervert. He’s a goddamn pervert.

A well-timed knock sounds at the door once more, Eddie’s knuckles sharp in their three strikes, “Can you let me in now?”

It’s the closest to a please you’re going to get.

“Sorry, busy!” you call out in response, still staring at the spread.

The nude woman eerily resembles you. Same hair, same skin tone, similar noses. The Universe has dropped the most loving of gifts in your laps in the form of this magazine, something you know you can use to get under Eddie’s skin as severely as he had done to you.

“Busy?” he protests, knocking on the door again before you hear the shaking of the doorknob again, “What the fuck are you doing in there? I told you, don’t touch my shit.”

You bite your lip, smile curling the corners of your mouth as you finally stand from the floor, knees cracking as you keep the magazine open to the photo. Eddie has gone scarily quiet, and you can’t even make out his breathing. His shadow has stilled completely as it peaks in from under the doorway.

He’s never living this down.

You’re still grinning with ill-intent as you shout, “Wow. Who knew I was right about the Playboy?”

Those words are all it takes for the frantic pounding on the door to begin.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #twenty four hours #i still can't believe this got as much attention as it did omg thank y'all

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ducktoo · 28 days ago

Text

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

Side 2. Rina, Rocket Puncher

Note: someone pls tell her to stop punching the phone-

This took place between Chapter 35 & 36

The Smash Room was not the type of place Y/n had expected to visit that day. The walls were covered in padding, and an impressive assortment of “smashable” items—plates, bottles, electronics—lined the shelves like some dystopian buffet. Karina stood beside him, grinning from ear to ear, holding a bat like it was the best gift she’d ever received.

“Are you… sure about this?” Y/n asked, eyeing a particularly delicate-looking lamp.

Karina rolled her eyes, thrusting a bat into his hands. “Yes, I’m sure. Trust me; you’ll thank me later.”

“But smashing things on purpose… it feels wrong,” he admitted, staring down at the bat.

Karina laughed, already cracking her knuckles in anticipation. “It’s supposed to feel wrong! That’s the point. I needed a place to blow off steam, and I thought it’d be way more fun if you came along to try it out.”

"…I don't really have anything to blow off steam, though?" Y/n questioned.

"Lies." Karina deadpanned. "You're dating Minjeong. Surely there is something you find annoying about her."

"Oi, you're trying to rat me out now?" Y/n widened his eyes.

"It's between us." Karina giggled. "…unless?"

Y/n gulped, but Karina’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Fine… let’s do this.”

When they finally suited up, helmets secure and armed with a stack of plates, old electronics, and an assortment of glass bottles in the centre of the room, Y/n couldn’t shake a lingering sense of hesitation. He’d been dragged here, no doubt, by Karina’s insistence that “everyone needs to smash something every once in a while.” She practically glowed with energy as she scanned the items around them, clearly fired up for what was about to go down.

“Ready to blow off some steam?” Karina asked, eyeing a nearby plate with a devilish grin. She picked it up and weighed it in her hands like a pro, already looking to him for the go-ahead.

“Uh, as ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/n replied, still clutching his bat with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. “You seem a little too excited about this.”

“Oh, trust me, I am,” Karina laughed. “You don’t know how badly I’ve needed this!”

With a wild swing, she sent the first plate crashing against the wall, bits of ceramic scattering in every direction. She let out a triumphant yell, her face lighting up.

“Jeez,” Y/n said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that plate supposed to be someone in particular?”

Karina grinned, winding up for the next throw. “That one was for all the times I’ve had to work late for a last-minute meeting. And—” She smashed another plate. “—for every time I had to remind everyone to be on time, especially NINGNING!”

Y/n snorted, gripping his own plate. “Ning just use her aespa time….a bit too much, huh?”

“Oh, and don’t get me started on the stress of managing appearances and, like, fifty different social media expectations!” Karina vented, smashing another plate with gusto. “Not everything needs to be perfect, but the pressure is still there! SO DAMN ANNOYING!”

“YES!” Y/n said with feeling, setting up his own bottle to smash. He hesitated for a moment, thinking back on his recent frustrations with Winter, from her infamous ‘kiss prank’ to the slightly overwhelming reality of actually dating her…which came with some undisclosed baggage. He swung, and the bottle exploded in a satisfying burst.

“OHHH SHT! That felt good!”

From the bottom of his heart, he loved Winter, but that was liberating.

Karina, catching his thoughtful look, nudged him with a knowing smile. “That looked personal. Care to share?”

He grinned, a little sheepishly. “It’s just… Jeong. There’s so much about her that’s awesome, but dating her is a whole new experience. I mean, she’s perfect, but also impossible. She just, like, invades my space EVERYWHERE, which sounds great…"

"Uhuh" Karina was intrigued.

"…until she messes with all my stuff and stole my oreo stashes I kept for myself.”

“Oh, I get it. Minjeong does have that… selective attention to detail,” Karina laughed, setting up another bottle. “She’ll memorise every outfit in her closet but will still ‘forget’ to tell you she invited the whole group over to your place.”

Y/n laughed, nodding. “Exactly! And it’s like the more time we spend together, the more I realize she’s just as rowdy as the rest of you—if not more. But… it’s hard to stay annoyed when she gives me that look, you know?”

Karina grinned as she grabbed a plate, holding it up like it was a prized possession. “This one? This is for every time a schedule’s changed last minute, throwing off everything we’ve worked on!” She wound up, smashed it, and let out a satisfied sigh.

Y/n found himself nodding along. “You know, Jeong has this habit of casually dropping huge things at the last possible moment. Like, ‘Oh, by the way, I promised my mom I’d come by for dinner’—while we’re already on our way somewhere else.”

“Oh, she finally did that to you!” Karina laughed, taking a quick swing at another bottle, the glass shattering on impact. She turned back to him with a playful glint in her eye. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Tell me about it.” Y/n lined up another bottle and smashed it with a swing that was a little more enthusiastic than he’d intended. “I love her for how she is, but…those will kill my sanity.”

They both shared a laugh, the cathartic smashing of objects somehow loosening up more than just physical tension.

“Alright, Rina, use Rocket Punch!” Y/n challenged, feeling his earlier nervousness fade as he grabbed another plate and handed it to her.

"Ya, I'm not a Pokemon!" She took it, eyeing him with a mock-serious expression.

"Whatever, do it!" Y/n cheered.

“This one is for all the choreography changes we go through in the middle of a tour,” she muttered with feigned gravity, before smashing it so hard that tiny ceramic pieces ricocheted off the wall.

"Perfect shot." Y/n winced and gave a low whistle. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I think all of us need this every once in a while. You can’t keep everything bottled up without it exploding, right?”

He nodded, a grin spreading on his face. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time for the grand finale.” He held up an old radio, raising its high for dramatic effect.

“Ohhh, nice choice!” Karina cheered, standing back to give him space.

"KIM MINJEONG! STOP DOODLING ON MY FACE!"

With a loud yell, Y/n hurled the radio against the wall, bits of plastic and metal scattering everywhere as they both burst into laughter.

Breathless, Y/n leaned back against the wall, shaking his head. “Holy….I seriously didn’t think this would be so… satisfying.”

Karina nodded, grinning at him. “I knew you’d come around. It’s not just about breaking things; it’s about letting go, you know?”

He looked at her, her usual serious leader demeanour replaced with a relaxed, genuine smile. “You know, I think we all see you as this powerhouse who just handles everything. It’s easy to forget that you need to punch things.”

Karina’s smile softened. “I guess I do. It’s just… hard sometimes. When you’re the leader, there’s this pressure to always be ‘on’ and ‘perfect.’ But, it’s nice to have these moments where I can just be myself. Not ‘Karina the leader,’ just Karina.”

“Well, for the record, you’re pretty cool Rina, leader or not,” Y/n said, giving her a sincere look. “I think we’d all be a little lost without you, to be honest.”

“Cool? Not cute?”

“Erm. Sorry, I have a Minjeong.” Y/n denied.

She let out a soft chuckle, bumping his shoulder. “Thanks, Y/n. It’s nice to hear that, especially from someone who has to put up with us 24/7.”

"You're welcome." Y/n grinned. "Now, please stop punching the camera."

Exhausted and a little breathless, they finally put down their bats, slumping onto a bench in the lounge area. Bits of dust and tiny shards clung to their protective gear, but they looked thoroughly exhilarated.

Y/n turned to her with a smile. “You’re living up to the name Rocket Puncher, you know that?”

Karina shrugged, though her eyes sparkled. “I guess I just have a habit of punching things.”

Y/n laughed. “Just don’t go overboard. We can’t have you smashing plates left and right during practice, alright?”

She laughed, nodding. “Fair enough. I’ll keep it contained to smash rooms.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Karina pointed toward the photo booth in the corner, her eyes lighting up. “Hey! Before we go, we should take a picture. Just, you know, to remember today.”

Y/n followed her gaze and groaned. “Are you serious? We look like we just walked out of a war!”

“Exactly! That’s the point!” Karina insisted, practically dragging him over. “C’mon, tough guy, one picture won’t kill you.”

As the camera flashed, Karina made a series of increasingly ridiculous faces, pulling Y/n into the antics with her. By the last frame, he was laughing so hard he barely noticed the camera snapping.

When the photos printed, Karina held up the strip with pride. “This is definitely going up on the fridge. Maybe I’ll even show Minjeong.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Please don't. She’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Karina just smirked, pocketing the photos. “Consider it payback for letting me rant today. And don’t worry—I’ll only tease you a little.”

“Tsk.” Y/n sighed. “ But thanks for this, Rina. I think I needed it more than I realised.”

She smiled, looping her arm over his shoulder. “Anytime, Y/n. A little smash helps wonder.”

They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the conversation lingering, but in a way that felt comforting rather than heavy.

Karina’s usual habit was quickly taken up by a notch in the dorm. No one could resist teasing her after each new incident, and her reactions—half-defensive, half-mortified—only added to the fun.

Which happened sooner than expected.

One evening, everyone was gathered around the dinner table for takeout night. Y/n watched with an amused grin as Karina grabbed her chopsticks with a little too much enthusiasm, causing her plate to slip and crack against the table.

“Welp, another one bites the dust,” Y/n quipped, leaning back with a smirk.

Karina gave him a narrowed look, cheeks flushed. “You know what? Maybe plates these days just aren’t made to last!”

Winter snorted. “Or maybe you’re just turning into some kind of superhero with ‘smash’ as your only superpower.”

“Sooo…Hulk?” Giselle questioned.

Karina huffed, crossing her arms. “Well, I didn’t ask for this power.”

Ningning leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but if you keep breaking things, people might actually believe you’re the leader of a super-powered girl group.”

Giselle clapped her hands, laughing. “Imagine if they replaced our choreo with you smashing props on stage!”

Y/n’s eyes lit up with mock seriousness. “Rina, think of the fan meetings. You’d just need to sign autographs on concrete blocks with a sledgehammer or something.”

Karina tried to stifle her laugh but couldn’t. She finally gave in, laughing as she tossed a crumpled napkin at Y/n. “You’re all just jealous of my raw strength.”

The next morning, Y/n and Karina found themselves in the kitchen, prepping for a long day ahead. Karina was trying to work the espresso machine, but it seemed to be giving her trouble. As she pulled the handle, the coffee machine sputtered and stopped working entirely.

“Did it just…?” Karina blinked, staring at the lifeless machine.

Y/n, stifling a laugh, leaned in to inspect. “Hmmmm, let’s see, it was perfectly fine this morning, and now it’s dead. Who could possibly be responsible?”

Karina swatted his arm. “Hey! I didn’t even touch it that hard! I just… pulled the lever with a bit of confidence.”

“Oh, ‘confidence,’” Y/n said with a grin. “That’s a nice way of putting it. You know, you’re like a coffee machine whisperer… except in reverse.”

Karina glared at him, then let out a laugh. “Fine, maybe I got a little too eager. But you’re making the coffee, then.”

Y/n shook his head, feigning exasperation as he grabbed his phone to put in a delivery order for iced lattes instead. “I’ll be sending this bill to the SM. You know, at this rate, you’re going to single-handedly ruin every appliance in the dorm.”

“Then maybe you should start getting unbreakable appliances,” Karina shot back, grinning as she took a seat at the counter.

Winter wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She looked between the two and yawned. “What happened now?”

“Coffee machine casualty,” Y/n explained, waving a hand at the machine. “She claimed another victim.”

Winter shook her head with a small laugh. “Great….another funeral?”

Karina shrugged, holding up her hands in surrender. “Apparently, I’ve just… developed an ult.”

A few days later, Karina and Y/n were shopping for some supplies when they wandered into the electronics section. They’d been joking about her newfound “habit” all morning, and Karina couldn’t resist poking fun at herself.

“Ya, Y/n, think they sell smash-proof headphones?” she asked with a grin, picking up a sleek pair.

He laughed. “If they did, you’d be their first customer.”

Karina nodded thoughtfully, pretending to examine the headphones. “Maybe we should just go all out and buy everything in metal. Like, imagine an indestructible blender or a phone that can survive anything.”

Y/n snorted, crossing his arms. “What, you’re planning on hurling your phone across the room?”

Karina gave him a playful nudge. “Not *intentionally*. But you never know.”

She picked up a ceramic mug, examining it thoughtfully. “Hmm. You think this one would survive me?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you try holding it like a normal human, and we’ll see?”

Karina broke into laughter, the two of them gathering curious stares from other shoppers. “Fine, fine, I’ll keep my grip to a minimum.”

That night, back at the dorm, the members were lounging around after a busy day. Y/n was tidying up the living room when he heard a familiar *crack* from the kitchen. He didn’t even have to look to know who the culprit was.

“YOO JIMIN!” he called, trying to sound stern but barely hiding his amusement.

Karina peeked around the corner, looking sheepish. “It was just a spoon…”

Winter groaned dramatically. “Do we even have spoons left at this point?”

Ningning held up a plastic spoon with a grin. “These are the only safe ones left. And I’m not taking any chances.”

Giselle couldn’t resist piling on. “At this rate, we’re going to have to wrap everything in bubble wrap. Including you, unnie.”

Karina laughed, her face flushing pink. “It’s not my fault! Everything’s so fragile!”

Y/n rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. “Okay, you and I are making a pact. Once a month, smash room therapy. But no more ‘practicing’ in the dorm, got it?”

Karina raised her hand in mock seriousness, nodding. “Fine, deal. Monthly smashing sessions only in the smash room. But only if you join me.”

The others burst into laughter as Y/n sighed, defeated. “Alright, alright. As long as you promise to keep your ‘smashing’ in the smash room.”

Winter nudged Karina, grinning. “This is really gonna be a thing, isn’t it?”

Karina shrugged, laughing. “Guess so. Let’s just hope I don’t smash anything important, like, I dunno… the door.”

“Or my boyfriend” Winter instantly glared at her leader while hugging Y/n. “Only he can deal with our rowdiness here.”

The entire group laughed, shaking their heads. Despite the accidental destruction, they couldn’t help but enjoy every minute of it. Karina’s “habit” had become an endless source of entertainment, and Y/n knew he’d never look at a coffee machine—or a remote—the same way again.

The next month rolled around, and true to their agreement, Y/n and Karina made another trip to the smash room. Karina was fired up, armed with a bat and practically bouncing on her heels as she looked at the new array of breakables.

“Oh, you’re going down this time,” she taunted, tossing Y/n a helmet. “Get ready to lose, mister.”

Y/n scoffed, slipping on his helmet and giving her a playful glare. “Is that so? We’ll see about that. Just don’t go breaking anything else when we get back to the dorm, okay?”

With that, the smash room countdown started, and they both went at it. Plates shattered, vases exploded, and Karina laughed wildly with every hit. They were neck and neck, neither one letting up as they plowed through piles of items. But just as they were about to swing at the last piece—a towering stack of old electronics—they paused, catching their breath.

Karina raised her bat, grinning. “Alright, let’s end this. Whoever smashes it first is the ultimate champ.”

Y/n, equally competitive now, rolled his shoulders, raising his bat. “Prepare to lose, Rocket Puncher.”

“Three… two… one!” They both swung, aiming straight for the top of the stack.

But just as they were about to hit, Karina’s bat connected a split second sooner, sending pieces flying—and her bat continued on its path, grazing Y/n’s arm as he tried to dodge.

“Ow!” he yelped, dropping his bat and clutching his arm, though a grin tugged at his lips.

Karina gasped, immediately dropping her bat. “Oh my gosh, Y/n! I’m so sorry!” She rushed over, her hands hovering as if she wanted to check on him but didn’t want to make it worse.

Y/n burst into laughter, holding his “injured” arm dramatically. “You actually smashed me, Karina! I didn’t know I’d signed up for *full-contact smashing.*”

She smacked his shoulder playfully, though she was still red-faced with embarrassment. “You were in my way! And stop laughing—I thought I broke your arm!”

He couldn’t help grinning. “Next time, we’re putting a strict no beating your manager rule in place. I barely survived.”

Karina laughed, shaking her head as she helped him up. “Guess I did win the smashing contest, though,” she teased, flashing him a victorious grin.

Y/n chuckled, rubbing his arm with a smile. “Yeah, yeah, Rocket Puncher… but the prize is definitely on you. Because from now on, I’m giving you a permanent smash ban.”

She pouted, though she couldn’t hold back her smile. “Fine. But don’t be surprised if I accidentally ‘smash’ something again. Just… try not to stand in my way next time?”

“That sounds wron-“

“Finish that and you will eat this bat.” Karina glared.

“Yes ma’am”

With a shared stifled laugh, they both left the smash room, Karina proudly claiming her “victory” and Y/n mentally preparing to dodge any “unintentional” smash attacks back at the dorm.

As they finished their monthly agreement and left the smash room, a renewed sense of camaraderie between them, both feeling lighter than they had in a long time. There was certainly mild hostility between the two of them when first met, but things changed for the better.

It wasn’t just the smashing or the laughs—it was the reminder that they had each other, through all the chaos, and that was a pretty solid foundation to lean on.

#aespa #aespa x reader #kpop #aespa giselle #aespa karina #karina #aespa ningning #aespa winter #ningning #giselle #karina x reader #kim minjeong #aespa x you #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin #aespa x male reader #yoo jimin x reader #x reader

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plussizefantasia · 2 months ago

Text

CozyTober Day 3: Chilly Fall Day

Eddie Munson x gf!reader

wc: ~ 0.9k

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't for Eddie in so long so forgive me if he's kind of ooc. Thanks for reading, if you liked the story reblog so more people can see it! I'll see y'all tomorrow for day 4!

You loved spending time with your boyfriend, honestly, you really couldn’t spend enough time with him in your opinion. Which means you need to take all the moments you get. Even if it means eating your lunch outside on an old picnic table while your breath clouds out in front of you. Eddie had offered you his jacket but you declined, you love Eddie with all your heart but he has no meat on his bones and you don’t want to be responsible for getting him sick especially because you’ll be the one who has to take care of him if he does.

It is quiet out here, peaceful. You don’t have to worry about Jason and his cronies. You don’t have to put up with the gossiping gaggle of cheerleaders and you definitely don’t have to breathe in the cloud of B.O. that seems to coat the whole cafeteria. It’s nice out here, fresh and relaxing. Well as relaxing as spending time with Eddie ever is.

Currently, he is ten minutes into a vivid explanation of his plan for the Hellfire Club session this week. He said he wants your input on some of the puzzles he’s going to use to trap the party and hold them in the labyrinth he had created. You’re lying with your back on the table, staring up into the sky. In the corner of your vision; the yellows and oranges of the tall oak trees that boarded the school property dance and sway. And straight above you is the blank canvas of the sky. It looks dreary from this angle, grey and muted; a complete antithesis to the bright blues of only a month ago.

“Do you think a math question is too easy, babe? If it was just the old guys I wouldn’t be worried but that new kid Dustin is pretty smart he might be able to chew right through it.”

“I don’t know Eds how hard do you want the puzzle to be?” You ask.

“Well, I don’t want them to get stuck forever and die ‘cause what the fun in that ya know? But I do want there to be some stakes.”

“What if you did a riddle? Like a really hard one. Maybe a Shakespeare reference? I can let you borrow some of my anthologies.”

“Hmm, maybe. I don’t know I guess I’m just worried that the campaign is getting lame.”

“Why would it be lame?” You sit up and look at him raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. But there was this one kid who came with the new guys. I think his name was Carl or something but he keeps ditching us for basketball practice and I’m like… am I not making it fun enough?”

“Eddie, baby. You’re an amazing dungeon master. Who cares what some freshman thinks of your campaign? Especially if he’s choosing to hang out with Jason in his free time, obviously he’s got issues.” You deadpan. You will not let some snot nose thirteen year old make Eddie feel like shit.

“God babe you always know what to say to get my brain to stop going like ninety miles a second.” Eddie pops up from his own reclined position and leans into your space to plant a big wet kiss on your cheek, equally endearing as it is kind of gross.

“I know. It’s like my superpower.” You wiggle your fingers at your boyfriend and raise an eyebrow at him. You both fall into laughter.

“You look nice with leaves in your hair.” He changes the subject.

“I have leaves in my hair?!” Your hands shoot up to the crown of your head and search for the offending foliage. You find three and rip them out with a ferocity not exactly warranted.

Eddie, the bastard just sits there laughing at you and doing not a damn thing to help. A thought pops into your mind. You stand up and hop down from the bench. Your boots crunching the leaves where you land.

Eddie, still occupied with laughing his stupid butt off doesn’t pick up on your plan for revenge. You bend over and scoop into your own arms, a pile of leaves from the ground. Turning abruptly and throwing them up into the air above Eddie. They rain down on him, covering his hair and shoulders, falling into his lap and even sticking to his socks. His laugh peters off at the same time yours erupts from your gut.

Eddie tries to stop the smile from spreading across his face when he takes in your relaxed pose and the sound of your laughter. He stands up and raises an eyebrow at you.

When you see the mischief on his face your laugh stops and you begin to take careful steps away from him. Eddie, not waiting a second longer practically launches himself from the table and onto the ground. Seconds later he has tackled you towards the ground, flipping the two of you at the last second so you land on his chest.

One, or two seconds go by before you both start laughing once more, much calmer this time. You stare into each other's eyes and help to pick the leaves out of each other's hair.

Yeah… spending time with Eddie really is your favorite thing.

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catscidr · 1 year ago

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Can I please request Dottore x clingy reader who loves giving him affection thank you! 💕

hell yeah baby that's what i'm TALKIN ABOUT ୧(☉□☉୨ ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, vague mentions of gore includes: gn!reader, dottore, webttore mentionned for like a second wc: 1k

6 minutes.

That was the longest amount of time Dottore had gone without being bugged by your presence. Well, "bugged” was a bit of a strong word- maybe more so inconvenienced by your endless whining for attention. It’s not that he hated it, it was quite the opposite really, but he actually needed to get work done before tomorrow and couldn’t afford to get distracted this time around. You called out after him for the millionth time today, trotting up to his side with an almost puppy-like expression, looking up at him expectantly.

Currently wrist deep in the guts of one of his poor victims, he swallowed down the urge to speak his mind honestly, instead choosing to glance over at you from the corner of his eyes. His glare (unfortunately) did nothing to deter your determination and willpower- with his attention now on you, you flash him a bright smile, wrapping your arms around his torso from his right side.

“Hey, why don’t you take a break?” you ask, tilting your head up to look at him properly. Dottore’s sharp, angular features never failed to make you swoon no matter how many times you looked at his unmasked face. You think it’s a blessing, but he argues that it’s a curse- especially now that you won’t leave him alone, making him pause his work.

“No,” he sighs for the nth time, bringing his attention back to the corpse on the metal table. “I have work to do. Why don’t you go bother Delta instead? He should be filing out some paperwork,” the doctor says, skillfully shrugging you off of him. You shake your head, resting your hands on his forearm to give him the space he needed.

“I don’t want to hang out with him though,” you say with a frown, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Come on, you’ve been working non-stop for ages now. Just a small break! An itty bitty one. Like thirty minutes. You can spare that much, can you?”

The Harbinger stares at the wall with a deadpan expression, weighing his options. On one hand, he could give in, listen to you and take a much needed break. But on the other hand, he could always just... lock you in his office. Not that he would leave you there for long, just enough for him to get this experiment over with. Plus it’s not like you’d be like a dog stuck in a hot car in the middle of summer without any a/c, he had a plush sofa he never used im his office alongside a mini fridge he also never used. The amenities were there for this exact scenario, anyways- so you’d be comfortable while waiting for him to be done. Although, the more he thought about it, the more his body began to feel heavy, exhaustion seeping through his limbs. Dottore grumbles some choice words under his breath and withdraws his arms out from the bloody mess that came from his current experiment and makes his way towards the sink. You follow after him, curious.

“‘Ttore?”

“I give up,” the doctor sighs, his shoulders slumping forward. He turns on the sink and discards his bloody surgical gloves, washing his calloused hands under the cold water to get rid of whatever gunk had gotten on his skin. “What do you want?” he asks in an indecipherable tone. You perk up noticeably, a smile making its way back to your face as you watch him dry his hands and turn around to give you his full attention.

“Just wanna spend time with you, honestly.” you say a little sheepishly. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not hungry.”

“Wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?”

The offer seemed tempting. After spending hours smelling nothing but hospital-grade cleaning supplies, iron and death the doctor wouldn’t say no to a trip outside of his lab- that is to say if he were anyone but the second Harbinger.

Instead, he grabs his mask and lab coat from the coat rack and begins to walk away, making a gesture for you to follow after him. And you do so eagerly, catching up to him fairly quickly considering how long his strides were.

Your footsteps echo in the quiet hallways, the only sound bouncing off the ornate walls of the otherwise cold and barren palace. The both of you reach your destination, Dottore pushing the door open to reveal his (barely used) bedroom. Tossing his coat aside and placing his mask on his nightstand, he loosens his button-down shirt and sits on his bed, looking at you with a raised brow.

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all day?” he asks with the slightest bit of amusement, kicking off his shoes and repositioning himself to lay down on the bed properly. You snap out of it and shake your head, closing the door behind you, jumping in next to him happily. Your bodies fit with one another perfectly, his arms snaking themselves around your waist while you hold him around his shoulders, keeping one free hand to stroke his icy locks. He hums contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut.

“Happy?” he asks, voice muffled from how close his face is to your chest. Your nails gently scratch his scalp, drawing out a soft sigh from the doctor.

“Very,” you say, smile audible in your tone of voice. Dottore simply hums in response, basking in the comfort of the warmth of your body against him. Part of you felt the need to ask him how long he wanted to stay like this knowing that the doctor hated being away from his lab but, feeling a bit selfish, you allow yourself to revel in the small victory that came in the form of finally convincing Dottore to let you have him all to yourself for a portion of his day. The both of you drift off peacefully, knowing perfectly well that you’re going to repeat this dance once more in the morning when the Harbinger has to work.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore fluff #dottore x gn reader

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yoichiris · 2 years ago

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holding onto love | itoshi sae x reader but we were something, don't you think so? ✩ strangers to lovers, second chance romance, implied intercourse but not explicit, use of alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, abortion and miscarriages, angst to happy ending

you meet itoshi sae at one of his games in japan. you're running around the back halls of the stadium, sent on an errand by a producer, when you see him standing around, hands in his pockets.

"um," you stutter, "are you lost, itoshi-san?"

he looks at you with disinterest. "no," he replies, and doesn't elaborate any further.

you're conflicted. players, and especially itoshi sae, should not be here. in fact, he should be at the exact press conference that you were currently running around like a headless chicken for. so you stand there, awkward, until his stare turns into a glare.

"yes?" he finally says, annoyed.

you balance on the balls of your feet. "it's just," you mumble, "i can guide you back to the conference room if you need..."

"fuck off," he waves you off.

you wince. you had heard about sae's disdain for press, so you simply pivot, and go back to work. you're just an intern, after all.

the next time you meet sae you're working your first big event as a reporter. it's awards season, and sae is up for an mvp award.

you find him in a quiet hallway, lazily scrolling his phone.

"hiding again?" you ask, fuelled partially by the flutes of champagne you've consumed.

he doesn't even look up. "mind your own business," he sneers.

"you wouldn't happen to have a comment for me about potentially winning mvp again, would you?" it couldn't hurt to try, you think. plus, it'd be huge if you got a comment from itoshi sae.

"no," he replies, as you expect.

you nod, pulling your phone out and pretending to jot notes down. "super excited to be nominated," you taunt, "really happy that my talents are being recognized."

"you're really annoying, aren't you?" he finally looks up from his phone, and takes a step closer to you. "write this down. it's only natural that i get mvp again. and i will get it next year, too."

you whistle. "got it," you tell him with a smile, pocketing your phone. "you can go back to hiding now."

you're about to leave when he grabs your wrist, and the heat from his hand sends a jolt through your body. you try to keep your gasp.

"what's your name?" he asks, and somehow, he still looks disinterested.

you grin. "yn," you tell him pulling out your business card, "read my article when it comes out, kay?"

sae comes up to you at the next event, some charity fundraiser assignment that you took just to suck up to your boss.

"that article was inaccurate," he deadpans, and you're so glad that you're buzzed enough for this.

you hum breezily, knowing he had pressed like on your tweet of the outgoing article, "i had to make you sound like less of a douchebag."

"that's not your job," he snorts, leaning against the wall next to you.

you shrug. the fabric of his jacket lightly brushes against your bare arm and you shiver. he's so close to you now that you can smell his cologne, and it raises goosebumps all over your body.

he spends the next few minutes watching the crowd, while your heart is thumping hard in your chest.

"i'm leaving," he tells you suddenly, downing the rest of his champagne, "are you coming?"

you look at him, confused. coming where? but he starts walking, and you can do nothing else but follow. he leads you through the marbled corridors, to a darkened room, where he corners you against the nearest wall.

your breath hitches in your throat, your hands going up to hold sae's arms to steady yourself. he's so close to you, completely overwhelming you, in every inch of your space. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you almost whimper from the sensation.

"i want to rip this dress off you," he murmurs, his fingers now trailing down the side of your neck, down to your collarbone.

you gulp. "p-please," you beg, gripping onto his biceps tighter.

sae is a decisive lover, moving aside the fabric of your dress as he pleases, touching where he knows makes you cry hardest, pressing into you when he feels you cling to him. you're inexperienced, but not clueless, and you do your best to match him.

when he lowers you back onto the granite floor, your knees almost buckle under you. he catches you around the waist, holding you up against him.

"need a ride home?" he asks, his voice raspy. his hair is messy, his eyes cloudy, and you can't believe what just happened.

you nod, breathless, taken away.

it never occurred to you until now that sae was really never in japan.

you see him once in a while, when he has to return. he always calls you, a simple word of i'm staying here, and texts you the address to his hotel.

and you always go, regardless of how busy you are. while he's gone you focus on your career, finally promoted to being on-air talent, providing commentary for various matches. you look good, he'll text you after the broadcast.

you start to feel sick, in the mornings before your broadcast. you think it's stress, it's nerves, but your breasts start to feel tender, and you start to eat a little more than you used to.

there's a sinking feeling in your stomach, and you think about how sae will be back tomorrow. so you take a pregnancy test.

you hadn't really thought about defining any relationship with itoshi sae. in the first place, he had never said anything about it, and in the second, you were both busy with your careers. you had been content with whatever this was.

but sometimes, when he's holding you, you let yourself wonder what it would be like if, instead of a hotel room, he came home to you in your modest apartment. in those moments, you let yourself be hopeful.

yet you sit at the island counter in the middle of his hotel room the next day, playing with the glass of water that he had handed to you, wondering if it would go differently if you hadn't been hopeful.

"i'm pregnant," you whisper, your voice small, looking down.

he's completely silent for a few moments. sae, above all, has always put his career before anything else. the fact resounds in your thoughts.

"lose it," he finally replies, "and this... it's over."

your heart drops.

you put down the glass of water on the counter with a clumsy clang, and sae still hasn't turned around to look at you. that's it? you think. what about us? what about me?

you feel numb, stumbling off the tall stool, vision blurry, barely making it to the exit before you find your voice.

"bye, sae," you rasp, feeling like you couldn’t even breathe, and walk out the door.

sae has google alerts on for you.

at first, he convinces himself that he's only confirming that you had not gone through with the pregnancy. and you hadn't, even though you had never told him anything else. some nights he lies in bed, in the dark, trying to remember the feeling of you beside him, and wonders how you dealt with it all by yourself.

you're a regular caster for matches in japan now. he watches all your broadcasts, telling himself he's reviewing plays, even though he knows that he never had any interest in japanese football.

he finds himself staring at the pictures of you, from your broadcasts, instagram, anywhere—comparing them to the vision in his mind.

and sometimes, he catches himself staring at your belly, wondering what it would look like if it had actually been swollen with his child. he wonders what you would be like as a mother, as his partner, what it would be like if you were still here, with him.

sae tells himself a lot of things, but all of them lead to you.

it feels like a twist of fate when you are one of the casters for his match in japan, even though logically he knows that it had been a huge possibility.

all eyes are on itoshi sae, home at last, you say at the opening. he thinks you sound different in that moment.

he listens to you with his eyes closed, your voice blasting through his headphones. he hears it when you're excited, when you're in disbelief, in every tilt of your voice. and he hears it when your voice cracks, just like that day in his hotel room, just as he makes a game-changing pass.

sae-kun saves the ball! you exclaim, just as he catches it with his foot. itoshi sae is always so reliable in these situations...

he winces when you break, reminding him that he hadn't been reliable, not for you.

you're up for a best newcomer in sports broadcasting award that winter—a small affair that no one but the concerned journalists would know about.

but he sees a small mention of it in the corner of a magazine, and makes it his mission to gain access to the event.

the truth is that he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. about how you sounded when you left his hotel room, or when he saved the ball and hadn’t saved you. or the other things about you: your hair across his pillow, your skin against his, the little mewl you do when you stretch out in the morning.

sae corners you outside the washrooms. he thinks you look beautiful, or maybe he's never wanted you more than he does at this moment.

"sae...!" you breathe his name and he watches as your face pales, "what...what are you doing here?"

he takes a step towards you, wanting so badly to be near you. he can't find the words to say to you, to convey how he's been feeling for the past year, to wash away the hurt that he must've caused you. he thinks he can't, that there's nothing to say, but there's no way he wouldn't try.

"congratulations," he tells you, and it's anticlimactic, "...on your award, i mean. i'm proud of you."

you furrow your brows. "...thank you," you reply, tentative, guarded, "but how did you even get into this ceremony?"

"i asked around," he says vaguely, as if he hadn't agreed to at least one condition he wouldn't have otherwise to gain entry.

sae searches your face for any reaction, but all he sees is confusion, turmoil. he sees the apprehension, the distance between you and him even though you're standing right in front of him.

"...i wanted to talk to you," he finally admits.

to you, sae has always looked unreachable.

even when he was holding you in his arms, the rise and fall of his chest right next to your ear, it didn't feel like he was there, with you. and really, he hadn't been.

"...about?" you steel yourself, thinking about the last words he had said to you, "are you here to make sure i didn't have your secret love child?"

you watch him flinch, and you think he deserves it.

"no," he replies, and he sounds almost apologetic, but his frustration bubbles, "i just..."

you cut him off. "sae," you whisper, fists clenched, pleading.

you won't look at him, can't look at him. your heart hurts and you can't stop the sob that rips through your throat when you think about last year, about the moment that stayed with you ever since. your tears drip on the floor.

"do you even know what it was like?" you cry, "to have you, to have this baby, and then to lose it all? to know that... none of it ever mattered to you?"

he catches both your hands, and you gasp when he falls to his knees, leaning his forehead on your stomach.

"i don't know what it was like," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, "but i know that i can't be without you anymore. i can't stop thinking about..." the way that you had stumbled out of my hotel room that day. how much i regret not chasing after you.

he trails off.

you hiccup. "there were...complications," you explain, "i miscarried, sae. and i just... if i had been stronger... if i had fought for us..."

he feels like he's been punched in the gut.

"it's not your fault," he rasps, adamant, the heat from his skin burning through the fabric of your dress, "...i should have been there."

he feels angry, at himself, frustrated, that he was so stupid, and so much shame, watching you cry, without being able to do anything to stop it.

but even if sae isn't good at admitting weakness, at admitting he was wrong, he is good at making goals and achieving them.

"i will be there," he swears, "next time, and every time after that."

when sae holds you in his arms at night, you can't help but think that he might disappear again.

sometimes you get this faraway look in your eyes, so he takes you and anchors you to him, and wonders if he can undo the hurt. he feels you relax against him, but knows that there are still doubts in your mind.

so when you start to dodge his embraces, when you start to sneak out of bed early in the morning, he knows that you're starting to slip from him.

"yn," he calls, following you out of bed one morning, cornering you against the counter, "what are you doing?"

"sae!" you yelp, bracing yourself on his shoulders when he cages you in, "uh, just... getting ready. you didn't want to stay in bed?"

he stares blankly at you, "no," he replies, then lowering his head to your shoulder, "what's wrong?"

"what do you mean, babe?" you ask innocently, playing with the ends of his hair. you soften as he snuggles up to you, rubbing his nose against the sensitive spot at the base of your neck.

you can almost feel him pouting when he says, "you've been running away from me."

"no, i'm—" you feel a wave of nausea roll over you before you throw him off, bending over the toilet to gag.

sae is immediately by your side, on his knees, gathering your hair in his fist in one hand and running his other hand down your back. nothing comes out, but you heave, again and again.

you're crying by the time you stop. he gathers you in his arms, and you cry a little harder.

"i think..." you hiccup, "i think i'm pregnant again."

you feel sae tighten his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"why are you crying," he murmurs, "i told you i would be here."

you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heart thump under you. he doesn't seem nervous, his heart as steady as it was a few moments ago.

"i know, i just..." you trail off, linking your hands with his, "i'm scared, sae."

you remember, in the weeks after getting back together, how insistent sae was on showing you he would be there. you think about the condo he commits to buying even though he's not in japan for half the year, just to move you in despite your protests so that he could come home to you.

you think about what he looks like when he walks through the front door, nonchalant, but always searching for you, and catching you in his arms when he sees you paying attention to anything else.

"i love you," he says, simply, obviously, "so don't be scared."

sae doesn't admit to loving you often, but baring his heart to you now, in this moment, makes you hopeful once again.

#blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #yoi's crops 🌱#from: itoshi sae 🎀

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pberrry · 11 months ago

Text

part 2 !!

rick x sa victim! reader

sorry it took a year😭, this is a long one so prepare yourself

cw- p in v, very gentle sex, protected sex, crying, slight mention of s/a, mostly vague descriptions of genitals/sex

-SPOILER- i started this before the release of season 7 so there’s mentions of rick prime

You licked the last bit of gloppydrop-style ice cream off your lips, looking over at Rick while doing so. The two of you were cooped up in his underground domain. He was working on his latest conquest- finding Rick Prime. You felt obligated to help, but got rejected with a hasty groan every time you attempted to. At this point, you were really just taking up space in the room. Although, you did pass the occasional incredibly technical sci-fi piece of equipment to Rick.

“H-Hey, Y/n, pass me that- that thing right there,” Rick said, pointing in a vague way towards your general direction.

“What thing?” You looked behind you, confused.

“That- that!” Rick said, moving his finger in the slightest, “you fucking dumbass, I’m pointing right at it!”

“Sorry!” You apologized frantically.

Rick groaned.

“Don’t be. Let’s- let’s take a- blueeerrgh- break.” Rick said, getting up from his spot on the chair.

“Yea, okay,” you stayed grounded in your seat, eyes following Rick’s figure steadily as he walked towards you.

“Look, l-listen Y/n. I- blueearghheh- I didn’t mean to make you… make you uncomfortable or anything last- blrrrygh- last night. So don’t fucking use it against me.”

A giggle escaped your mouth.

“What?” Rick looked back at you, insulted, an annoyed glare etched in his eyebrows.

“It’s nothing. Just weird hearing you apologize,”

“Don’t get used to it dumb-errrgh-ass,” he groaned.

The two of you stayed silent for a second.

“I’m sorry if I lead you on or something. I- I really didn’t realize I was,” you apologized.

“You weren’t,” Rick stated bluntly. “It’s fine.”

Goddamn, maybe Summer and Morty were right about this man having a soft spot for you.

“And just to clarify, I wasn’t rejecting you,” You said, looking up.

“Y-you weren’t?” He paused for a moment, you had caught the man off guard. “I mean, of course you fu-euuueghhh-cking weren’t.” He says with that smug grin of his. He’s trying to cheer you up.

“And… I’m sorry I didn’t explain stuff to you.” You say, suddenly looking downwards.

Rick could tell how much you hated talking about it. The way you shifted slightly, the way you started fidgeting with your hands and the way your gaze avoided his. Your mouth peaked open slightly, only to shut again as your thoughts scrambled around, trying to decide the wording of your next sentence. He was staring at you, waiting with that harsh deadpan expression of his.

“Rick, do you think you could… help me?” You ask, fingers dancing nervously in your lap.

“‘Help’ you?” He repeated, a sneaking suspicious as to what you meant crawling up his spine and getting the gears in his head grinding.

“Help me, like… get over my fear. Of having sex.”

That statement hit him like a pile of bricks. Of course, he had half-expected it, but hearing you say it was something else entirely. For a moment he just stared at you. He just couldn’t understand why the fuck you would pick him.

“You want me-bleurrghhh-to what? Sweetie I’m willing- but I’m not sure choosing me is the brightest fucking idea.”

“Why not?” You asked, intrigue lacing your louder-than-usual voice.

“Come on, Y/n.”

“Come on, what?” You ask. “You don’t have to question my reasoning, you’re doing a good deed anyways.” You say, an almost pleading look in your eyes.

“Is it?” He retorts, grunting lightly.

You nod your head. He gives you a troubled, almost hesitant expression with a groan. Yea, of course he’d love to fuck you. Just not in these… circumstances. He would hate himself if he was responsible for hurting you, especially in the way that other person had.

“Fine.” He almost spits out. “When would you like me-bleurrghhh-to have sex with you?” He asks, bluntly.

“…now?” You respond.

He perks up, tilting his head a little and giving you a look that says ‘this is your last chance to back out’, before clicking a button and setting the garage into soundproof mode. Surprisingly, the work bench beside you began to rearrange itself into something a bit more… comfortable? Making you wonder why he had that function wired into his work bench, but of course the man was kind of a whore. You assumed that was where you were supposed to sit, so your plopped yourself down right there as you waited for Rick. The man was scrambling around for something in one of the drawers, when he pulled out a condom and some lube. He sat it beside you.

This was it. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost to the point you feared Rick might be able to hear it.

“Do you want a Xanax… or something?” He asked, a poor attempt at calming your nerves, to which, you shook your head.

“Stand up.” He said plainly, and you thought his words might knock the wind out of you.

Once you stood up, you could literally almost feel your knees buckle from how nervous you were. You felt his hands slip around your shoulders and grip them, cautious of his hands going places that may make you uncomfortable.

He leaned in, placing an unexpected kiss on your lips. Before you knew it, you were deepening the kiss, encouraging him to also. And that he did. His tongue slipped in your mouth, exploring what could possibly have been the best thing he ever tasted. After a few minutes, he lowered himself to his knees, an aged groan escaping his mouth. Although it was a bit embarrassing, his hardened dick was already straining uncomfortably against his jeans at just the action of kissing you.

He placed his hands on the hemline of your jeans, looking up at you for permission. You nodded hesitantly as you began to feel the cold air hit your exposed thighs, your jeans crumpling down at your ankles. Rick couldn’t wait.

He slipped your panties down, rough and calloused fingers meeting your plump skin. He slid them between your folds, rubbing you in little circular motions which made your legs jerk and shake lightly. His movements were slow and deliberate, observing your expressions carefully for and signs of discomfort. When he didn’t see any, he leaned in, propping your leg up on his shoulder. He buried his head between your legs, his tongue beginning to work it’s expertise on you. He gently eased his fingers into you, trying to lessen the pain you might be feeling by increasing the speed of his tongue. After all, you had been celibate for many years after what had happened to you, and he knew you probably weren’t used to the feeling.

Your fingers intertwined with his blue locks of hair, little moans and whines escaping you. You could feel your hips grind ever so slightly against his tongue and fingers, pushing you to orgasm. He curled his fingers, making you arch your back and let out a cry of pleasure. It comforted you some; knowing he was below you and not the other way around. His tongue lapped away at you with precision, liked he’d done this thousands of times and perfected the art.

With one final tremble of your legs, you came on his fingers. Rick couldn’t help the grin pulling at the side of his lips at the sight of your pleasured expression, and the cum coating his fingers. With one swift motion, he licked the cum off his fingers, causing your heart to pound inside your chest. His hands slipped around your waist, gripping you tightly and propping you up onto the workbench table with ease. Your hands held onto his wrists tightly, as if wanting control over his movements. He didn’t mind.

“You okay? Want me to continue?” He asked, staring down at you.

You nodded, breath heavy and anxious. The sound of his fly unzipping sent chills down your spine, unknowingly causing tears to well up in your eyes. You didn’t notice until Rick used his thumb to gently soothe your under-eye. He grabbed the lube, gently coating your entrance, before grabbing a condom and slipping it over himself.

“Lay down.” He instructed, his hand on your back to provide comfort against the hard table.

He leaned over you, pressing his head to your entrance. He gently eased into you, muttering a string of praises and soft words of encouragement.

“Good, only a little more…” He said softly, his dick still pushing into you and making a small whine leave your mouth.

He let out a low groan once he was as far as he could go, looking up at you with an oddly flushed face.

“Can I move?” He asked, his voice weirdly gentle.

You nodded, and began to feel his warm mass glide back in forth inside of you. You could feel a wetness gliding down your cheek, realizing you were crying. Rick did a good job of wiping your tears while simultaneously encouraging you. One of his hands moved to your hips, gripping it lightly to keep you in place. His other hand focused on wiping away your tears and ruffling your hair a little to calm your nerves. His hips moved back and forth in a intimate dance of love and lust for you, slowly gaining speed.

“Fuckkkk… don’t cry, sweetheart..” He groaned out, his eyes shut tightly in bliss.

Feeling the pleasure built up intensely inside him, he pulled out and came against your stomach, condom basically filled to the brim. Both of you were panting, flushed messes. It took Rick a few moments to compose himself, taking off his condom and tossing it into a nearby trash can. The sight of you, laying there, all flushed and sweaty, almost made him cum again. He helped you sit up, wiping your tears a little.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice gruff as per usual but his actions told otherwise.

“Yea…” you answered, words heaved out because of your stolen breath.

In a gesture very unlike him, Rick pulled you close, hugging you to his chest and petting your head affectionately.

He definitely had a soft spot for you.

He grabbed a clean towel, gently wiping you off. After he was done, he grabbed the hoodie you had previously discarded and pulled it over you. He picked you up, allowing your legs to straddle his waist and your arms to latch onto his neck. You found yourself oddly worn out in his arms, sleep’s embrace tempting you. He carefully laid you on the spare bed he sometimes slept in while in his random, obsessive bursts of searching for Rick prime. He seemed to think for a moment, debating wether he should go back to working on his conquest or joining you in a nap. He chose the latter.

ty for reading!!! hope you enjoyed

#rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez #rick prime #rick and morty #morty smith #fluff and smut

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