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callsigns-haze · 3 months ago

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Pamper queen

Azriel might be the most intimidating man, the definition of the devils shadow, but really he's a pampered drama queen. Each weekend him and his mate go full out in skin care and Rhysand and Cassian find it hilarious.

Warnings: Fluff, alcohol, would acne extraction be one??? sparring and cursing oh and Azriel being a drama queen

Wordcount: 2.8k

Azriel x reader

Cassian's laughter rings out like a clap of thunder, echoing off the walls of Rhysand’s office. He’s leaning against Rhys’s desk, half a glass of wine in one hand and a teasing glint in his hazel eyes. Rhys, seated comfortably in his high-backed chair, smirks in that lazy, knowing way of his. His violet eyes flick to Azriel, who is leaning stiffly against the far wall, his shadows unusually still as they curl around his shoulders.

“So, Az,” Cassian starts, dragging out the name like it’s a punchline in and of itself. “You’re telling me you—the terror of Illyria, the spymaster of the Night Court—spend your Sunday nights getting your face poked at?”

Rhys snorts, swirling his wine. “Careful, Cass. If you laugh too hard, he might sic Y/N on you. I hear she takes her...skincare duties very seriously.”

Azriel doesn’t so much as flinch, though you can see the faint twitch of his jaw, a crack in the stoic mask he always wears. He levels them with a cool, unbothered stare, but you know better. He’s biting back a sigh.

“She does it for me,” Azriel finally says, his voice even, though there’s a defensive undertone there. One that makes Rhys's smirk widen and Cassian practically howl with glee.

“She does it for you?” Cassian wheezes, his wings rustling as he doubles over, clutching his stomach. “Oh, please, tell me she gives you one of those fancy face masks too. Maybe with cucumbers for your eyes?”

Azriel’s shadows swirl as if annoyed on his behalf. “You two wouldn’t understand,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rhys raises a brow, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. “Oh, we understand perfectly, Az. Your mate loves taking care of you, and you love letting her. But—” Rhys’s grin sharpens, his tone turning wicked— “we also understand that you’re probably lying there, utterly miserable, while she does it.”

“You don’t move, do you?” Cassian cuts in, barely containing his glee. “You just let her sit there with her little kit of torture devices and—what—dig into your pores? Do you even blink, Az?”

“Of course, I blink,” Azriel replies dryly, but he still hasn’t moved from his spot against the wall. You suspect he’s calculating the fastest way to leave the room.

Cassian doesn’t let up, his laughter spilling out in waves. “I’d pay good money to see it. You, flat on your back, probably wincing while she scolds you for not using whatever cream she gave you last week.”

“She doesn’t scold me,” Azriel says calmly, though his shadows twist tighter, betraying his irritation.

“Oh, I bet she does,” Rhys says with a chuckle. “And I bet you love it.”

That earns him a glare, but Rhys just shrugs, unbothered.

“Does she threaten you too?” Cassian adds, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Like, ‘Hold still, Azriel, or I��ll use the extractor tool.’” He waves his hand dramatically for effect, then bursts into laughter again.

You can’t help but grin as you step into the room, the scene unfolding exactly as you imagined it would. All three males glance your way, but it’s Azriel who straightens immediately, his shoulders relaxing as you approach.

“You’ve been talking about me, haven’t you?” you ask lightly, fixing Cassian and Rhys with a knowing look.

“Never,” Rhys drawls innocently, though his smirk gives him away.

“Always,” Cassian counters, beaming. “But it’s not our fault Az is the perfect source of entertainment.”

Azriel lets out a long-suffering sigh, his gaze softening as it meets yours. You cross the room to stand by his side, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“Don’t let them bother you,” you murmur, though you’re smiling. “They’re just jealous because they don’t get this kind of attention.”

Cassian gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Jealous? Of him? Sweetheart, I’d rather face the Blood Rite again than let anyone near me with one of those pointy tools.”

You glance at Azriel, biting back a laugh at the subtle flush creeping up his neck. He doesn’t say a word, just shifts closer to you, his hand brushing against yours.

“I think he looks amazing,” you say simply, giving Azriel a warm smile.

That shuts Cassian up—briefly, anyway. Rhys just grins, lifting his glass in a mock toast.

“To the neatest, most put-together Illyrian in all of Prythian,” Rhys says, his tone light. “And to his very patient mate.”

Azriel rolls his eyes, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Later, you know he’ll pretend their teasing didn’t bother him. But for now, you squeeze his hand, silently reassuring him. And as always, he squeezes back.

-----

The bedroom is quiet save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Warm golden light flickers across the walls, casting shadows that seem to dance lazily as Azriel lies sprawled on the bed. His wings are folded neatly against the mattress, his arms resting loosely at his sides. He’s shirtless, his dark hair slightly tousled, the picture of relaxation—or as close to relaxed as Azriel ever gets.

You sit comfortably on his chest, your knees bracketing his ribs as you settle into your usual Sunday night routine. Your little tool kit is open on the bedside table, neatly arranged like a surgeon’s tray. Azriel’s shadows are quieter than usual, watching from the corners of the room as you bend over him, your focus completely locked on his face.

“Doesn’t this hurt?” you ask softly, your tone teasing as you press your fingers gently against his cheek, angling his face toward the light.

“No,” he replies evenly, though his voice is low and smooth, a sure sign he’s trying to play it cool. “It’s not painful.”

You hum, leaning closer as you examine the faint speckles on his nose and along his jawline. “I don’t believe you. You always flinch when I use the extractor.”

“I don’t flinch,” he counters, his hazel eyes flicking up to meet yours. There’s a glint of challenge in them, though it’s softened by the way his hands rest lightly on your thighs.

“Oh, you flinch,” you reply with a smirk, reaching for the little metal tool. His gaze shifts briefly to it, and though his expression remains impassive, you catch the subtle way his throat bobs as he swallows.

“You act like this is torture,” you tease, pressing the flat of the tool against his nose and gently extracting the first blackhead. He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“It’s not torture,” he says, though his tone is a little clipped.

You pause, raising a brow as you glance down at him. “Would you prefer I stop?”

“No,” he says immediately, his fingers tightening slightly against your thighs. “Keep going.”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you lean over him again, the warmth of his skin brushing against yours as you work. His sharp cheekbones and strong jawline are as familiar to you as your own hands, and you take your time, your fingers brushing softly against his face as you clean every little spot you can find.

“Cassian and Rhys would have a field day if they saw this,” you murmur after a moment, sitting back slightly to admire your work.

Azriel lets out a low sound that might be a sigh—or a groan. “Don’t remind me.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, setting the tool aside for a moment to trace your fingers along his jawline. “That you let me do this. That you trust me with this.”

His eyes soften as he looks up at you, the intensity in his gaze making your heart flip. “I trust you with everything.”

Your breath catches at the honesty in his voice, your chest tightening as you lean down to press a kiss to his lips. He lifts his head slightly to meet you, the kiss slow and gentle, his hands sliding up to rest on your hips.

When you pull back, you smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You’re too perfect, you know that?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, his shadows curling lazily around the edges of the bed. “I’m far from perfect.”

“Well,” you say, reaching for the tool again, “your skin is getting pretty close.”

He groans softly but doesn’t protest, his hands returning to your thighs as you continue your work. And though he’ll never admit it out loud, you know he doesn’t mind. Not really. After all, this is one of the few moments where the walls he’s built so carefully come down, where it’s just the two of you, and he can let himself be cared for.

The fire crackles softly in the background as you press the extractor tool gently against Azriel’s nose, your fingers steady and precise. His skin is warm beneath your touch, his breath even—at least, for now.

You’ve just started working on a particularly stubborn blackhead when Azriel lets out a low groan, his head shifting slightly on the pillow.

“This is taking forever,” he mutters, his voice a deep rumble laced with annoyance.

You pause, your fingers hovering mid-air as you shoot him a look. “Azriel.”

“What?” He arches a brow, feigning innocence, though there’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth that betrays his irritation. “I’m just saying, it feels like you’ve been at this for an hour.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. You set the tool down and lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his head so your face is directly over his. “Would you rather I stop and let your pores clog up completely? Maybe let your skin get all rough and dull so Cassian can tease you even more?”

He scowls at the mention of Cassian, his hazel eyes narrowing. “That’s not what I said.”

“No,” you say, sitting back and picking up the tool again. “But that’s what you meant, wasn’t it?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he mumbles something under his breath.

“What was that?” you ask, tilting your head as you press the extractor against his cheek.

“I said,” he repeats, louder this time, “I don’t see why this is necessary every week.”

“Oh, you don’t, do you?” You pause again, raising an incredulous brow as you set the tool aside. “This coming from the man who polishes his knives until they shine and organizes his weapons room by category, size, and colour?”

“That’s different,” he says defensively, his shadows stirring faintly around the bed as his wings twitch against the mattress.

“How?” you challenge, crossing your arms over your chest. “You care about your weapons. I care about your skin. Same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing,” he mutters, though his voice has lost some of its bite.

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning forward again. “Azriel, if you don’t hold still and stop complaining, I’m going to start using a much rougher technique.”

His eyes flick to the extractor in your hand, and you catch the faintest glimmer of unease in his gaze. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” you say, your tone firm but teasing.

He groans again, throwing an arm over his eyes like a petulant child. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re impossible,” you counter, gently nudging his arm aside so you can get back to work.

Despite his grumbling, he stays still, his hands resting lightly on your thighs again as you focus on the task at hand. You work in silence for a few moments, the tension slowly draining from his body as your fingers move carefully across his skin.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he mutters after a while, his voice softer this time, almost fond.

You pause, smiling as you glance down at him. “I know,” you say lightly. “And you’re lucky I’m patient enough to deal with you.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Fair enough.”

And just like that, his complaints cease, his body relaxing completely as you finish up your work. Because deep down, he knows—no matter how much he groans or grumbles—there’s no one else he’d trust with this, with any of it. Only you.

-----

The sun spills golden light across the Illyrian training ring at the House of Wind, the morning air crisp and filled with the faint rustle of the breeze over the mountains. Azriel stands at the edge of the ring, rolling his shoulders to loosen up, his wings spreading slightly before tucking back behind him. He looks as sharp as ever—his dark leathers perfectly tailored, not a hair out of place, his skin practically glowing.

Cassian is the first to notice.

“Well, well,” Cassian drawls, swaggering into the ring with his usual cocky grin, his wings flaring slightly as he stretches his arms above his head. “If it isn’t Prythian’s finest male.” He eyes Azriel with mock scrutiny, squinting at him as if trying to decipher something.

Azriel doesn’t respond, just rolls his neck in that deliberate, unbothered way of his, but you can already see the faint tightening of his jaw.

Rhysand strolls in behind Cassian, his violet eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes one look at Azriel and smirks. “Cass, do you smell that?”

Cassian sniffs theatrically, tilting his head as if deep in thought. “Hmm. Smells like�� lavender? No, wait—rosehip oil.”

“Ah, that’s it,” Rhys says with a chuckle, crossing his arms as he leans casually against one of the posts. “Our spymaster smells like a luxury spa. Did Y/N slather you in some kind of serum last night, Az?”

Azriel levels them both with a flat look, his hazel eyes dark and unimpressed. “Are we training today, or are you two just here to run your mouths?”

“Oh, we’re training,” Cassian says, his grin widening as he steps into the center of the ring. “But we couldn’t start without acknowledging the sheer… glow you’re giving off this morning.”

Rhys raises a brow, feigning curiosity as he gestures to Azriel’s face. “What is that, Cass? Would you say he looks… radiant?”

“Definitely radiant,” Cassian agrees, nodding solemnly. “Like he just stepped out of one of those little beauty salons in Velaris.”

Rhys chuckles, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “You know, I bet Y/N has a standing appointment for him every Sunday night. Blackheads, moisturizers, maybe even a face mask.”

Azriel finally sighs, his shadows curling faintly around his shoulders as he steps into the ring. “Are you two done?”

“Not even close,” Cassian says, his grin positively wicked. He gestures to Azriel’s face, circling him like a predator stalking its prey. “You know, I think I see my reflection in your cheekbones, Az. Do you polish those, too?”

“I hear there’s a new Illyrian skincare regimen,” Rhys adds, his tone mock-serious. “First, you take a mate who’s very detail-oriented. Then, you let her pin you to the bed with a toolkit every week.”

Cassian barks a laugh, clapping a hand to his chest. “Does she have one of those little mirrors too? The kind that shows every pore?”

Azriel exhales slowly, his jaw tightening as he fixes them both with a cool stare. “You two are acting like children.”

“Children with flawless skin,” Rhys says smoothly, grinning.

Azriel takes a deliberate step toward Cassian, his wings spreading just slightly—a silent warning. “Keep talking, and we’ll see how flawless your face is after I plant it in the dirt.”

Cassian, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. He just laughs again, his broad shoulders shaking as he squares off with Azriel. “Oh, come on, Az. We’re just appreciating the effort. You’re putting the rest of us to shame.”

“I don’t need to try to put you to shame,” Azriel deadpans, his tone as dry as the Illyrian steppes.

Rhys snickers, stepping into the ring with a casual wave of his hand. “All right, let’s not bruise Cassian’s ego too much, Az. You know how fragile it is.”

“Fragile?” Cassian scoffs, but before he can launch into a tirade, Azriel moves—swift and lethal, sweeping Cassian’s legs out from under him in a single, fluid motion.

Cassian hits the ground with a grunt, glaring up at Azriel as he props himself up on his elbows. “You’re in a mood today.”

“Maybe it’s the rosehip oil,” Azriel replies dryly, offering the faintest smirk before turning to face Rhys. “Your turn, High Lord.”

Rhys laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Oh, I’m not about to mess with someone who just spent the night being pampered by his mate. You’re clearly in top form.”

Azriel doesn’t respond, but as the three of them settle into training, you can’t help but notice the slight upward twitch of his lips, barely there but unmistakable. Because as much as he complains about their teasing, a part of him doesn’t mind. After all, it’s not every day he gets to keep them on their toes—and he’s more than happy to remind them why he’s still the spymaster of the Night Court.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #az

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riizegasm · 9 months ago

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Impure Intentions || L. CY (Anton)

❀ pairing: chaebol heir!anton x rival!reader, implied fem!reader

❀ genre: enemies to lovers (but not really), fluff, suggestive

❀ word count: ~6.7k

❀ warnings: explicit language, mentions of dysfunctional families, one heated kiss scene

❀ summary: From the day you were born, all you ever heard was, “don’t fall in love with Anton Lee.” A better heir to a multimillion dollar conglomerate would follow their family’s advice. But you…not so much.

❀ a/n: sheesh, talk about writer’s block. This work has taken me so long and so much effort, but i'm very proud of how it turned out! It may have even helped me out of my slump. Also, please don’t judge me too hard. I know nothing about business and corporate families!!! As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are strongly encouraged. Happy reading!

Your head aches. The lights in the banquet hall are too bright and the clink of gilded silverware is too loud. Polite chatter buzzes around you like a pesky fly evading a swatter. The air is suffocating, overly stuffy with high end perfumes and colognes clouding the space. This is torture; the Lee family banquets always are.

It would be better if you could enjoy the food or engage with the various guests like everyone else does, but this is enemy territory. Your family had made it abundantly clear that this was not an event for fun, but rather for scoping out the competition. Lectures about a corporate acquisition going south and details about poor contracting simply entered in one ear and left via the other. You didn’t care why you had to be there. The knowledge of your forced attendance did enough to damper your mood, especially once you were hit with all of the rules around your presence.

Sit still, look pretty, smile politely, eavesdrop on any corporate plans, and don’t talk to Anton Lee.

You never understood your family’s obsession with keeping you away from him, the prized son and heir of the Lee empire. Everyone made sure to fill your mind with negative opinions and baseless rumors about the young man, as if to deter you from even giving him a chance. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however. You’ve never even seen the man, let alone had a conversation with him. Anton Lee was much more of a mythical being than he was a person, in your eyes. He was always whispered about, but never seen.

From what you gathered, he was around your age, tall, broad, and supposedly extremely handsome. He was known for his overly harsh demeanor, rumored to command a room with a simple word. His presence apparently spoke volumes, enough to speak to his blunt nature and bad intentions. It made sense, your parents would always say. After all, he is a Lee.

“Fix your face, honey,” your mother snaps with a forced smile. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles before you turn thirty if you keep scowling like that.”

It takes everything in you to fight an eye roll, biting back the string of expletives waiting on the tip of your tongue. “Sorry. I’m going to run to the powder room.”

You don’t bother to wait for her response before excusing yourself from the cocktail table, getting lost in the crowds of people as you head towards the bathroom. Away from your family, the air feels somewhat lighter, although it still reeks of entitlement. The throb in your head is insistent now, forcing you to escape to find relief.

You find yourself heading towards a set of grandiose double doors, hoping they will lead you anywhere but here. Luckily, your prayers are answered as you step through them onto a stone balcony. The crisp nighttime air does wonders to cool your heated skin, a slight breeze ruffling the loose fabric of your dress.

This is exactly what you needed, space and solace.

“Rough night?”

A soft voice makes you jump out of your skin, whipping your head around to find the source. Its owner leans up against the exterior wall, somewhat bathed in shadow. All you can make out is a glimmer of white teeth, reflecting the moonlight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the figure apologizes, taking a small step forward into the light.

You feel your breath stutter in your chest as you take in the man. The first thing you notice is his sheer beauty, lips enticingly full and nose broad. His beauty is complemented by his tall stature, the height difference between you two becoming increasingly apparent as he approaches. Like this, bathed in the moonlight, it’s impossible not to notice the broadness of his shoulders and how they taper into a small waist. He fills out his all black suit beautifully, the garments clearly tailored to his every curve.

“Are you alright?” The man asks, stopping only a few feet away.

The concern in his tone is just enough to snap you out of your reverie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, um, needed some air.”

The man nods in understanding, leaning over to place his forearms against the balcony’s railing. You struggle not to eye the way his suit jacket stretches across an impossibly wide back. Instead, you mirror his stance, looking out at the beautiful gardens below, bathed in silvery moonlight. Just beyond the seemingly endless maze of hedges, you can make out what looks like a small lake, it’s surface rippling under the nighttime breeze.

“It can be stuffy in there,” the man says softly.

You find yourself hanging onto his every word, shocked that such a mild tone could come from such an intimidating man. “Yeah, it really can be.”

The man lets out a small chuckle, no doubt amused by your clear annoyance. “So I take it you’re not in the business.”

“No, I’m–,” you pause for a moment, not sure how much of your identity you should reveal to the stranger. “I’m related.”

He chuckles again, this time turning to look at you. “Hm, I guess I could say the same for me, then.”

A round of applause sounds from somewhere inside, and you curse under your breath, knowing your family will kill you for your absence. The man next to you seems unphased, as if he’s used to the party going on without him.

“I think I should get back.”

The man flashes you a smile, its brightness almost blinding in the dark. “That’s okay. It was nice chatting with you…”

“Y/N. And you are?”

“Anton,” he whispers. “I hope I can see you again, Y/N.”

An icy chill travels up your spine, momentarily freezing you in place. But you force yourself to remain composed, plastering a smile on your face. You silently thank your years of etiquette training and the countless social events you have had to smile for. With a slight nod of your head, you disappear back through the double doors, instantly choking on the scent of Chanel No. 5.

. . .

It’s easy to believe that your first encounter with Anton Lee would be your last, especially as the weeks pass without a single sign of him. It makes sense that he wouldn’t start making regular appearances at events after attending just once. He has managed to spend twenty years staying out of the spotlight, and you can’t imagine that changing now.

But, for some reason, you can’t help but search for him in the crowd of every gala or at the tables of any grandiose banquet.

He would be easy to spot, with his overwhelming height and dazzling smile. Maybe his honey brown hair would be slicked back off his forehead this time, or maybe it would hang in front of his eyes to conceal his bright gaze. You’re sure that he would still talk in that overly soft tone of his, somehow managing to command a room without a change in volume.

Even his absence begins to feel like a presence in and of itself, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You tell yourself that it’s simple intrigue and nothing more. The first time you had ever laid eyes on your supposed family nemesis had been on a balcony bathed in the moonlight. Where had he been all these years?

More importantly, why had he disappeared again?

The question runs through your mind as you accept a flute of champagne from a waiter, eyes flitting around the charity dinner in hopes of spotting a specific someone. Somewhere near the front of the banquet hall, the Lee family is seated at a table with a few other wealthy families, but their oldest son is nowhere to be found.

You crane your neck to get a better look. Just to be sure, you tell yourself. But the contorting you force yourself to do has you leaning right back into a waiter, your elbow knocking into his empty tray. The sudden movement has your champagne flute slipping out of your grasp, icy bubbles splattering across your chest and down the front of your dress. You can practically feel the daggers that your mother is shooting you from across the table, always having scolded you about the embarrassment that comes along with being a klutz. Before she can part her lips to tell you off, you excuse yourself politely, dashing out to find a restroom to freshen up.

You let your heeled feet carry you through a maze of hallways, side stepping waiters and party guests as you move further and further away from the event space. It’s only when you travel down a flight of stairs that you find yourself a seemingly private restroom, briefly stepping inside to clean yourself up. No matter how much you dab at the stain in the center of your bust, the wine doesn’t seem to budge. You thank the heavens that it was champagne instead of a red, saving you some degree of embarrassment.

After a few minutes in the restroom, you find yourself wandering around, ending up in a much more secluded lounge space, equipped with a couple of couches surrounding a coffee table. You immediately collapse onto one, sighing as the ache in your feet finally lifts.

It’s only then that you feel your eyes begin to sting, a familiar rush of heat striking your face as a lump begins to form in your throat. The sticky sweet smell of champagne still clings to your body, your dress uncomfortable where the alcohol seeped into it. You’re sure that you look a mess, knowing that tear smudged makeup would be the last thing to complete your disheveled look.

“Another rough night?”

The soft rasp of a voice instantly has you perking up, breath caught in your throat as you take in the tall figure approaching you. His crisply pressed suit hugs his broad shoulders and cinches at an impossibly small waist. His lips are quirked upwards into a small smirk, clearly teasing. Something about it is enticing, setting off a stampede in your stomach.

“How could you tell?” You mumble, trying not to stare as Anton settles into a lounge chair across from you.

The man’s smirk just deepens. “Wild guess. What happened?”

“I spilled champagne on myself and now I look a mess.”

“You don’t,” Anton states, smirk dropping from his face. “You could never look bad.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “How would you even know that? You’ve only seen me twice.”

Anton chuckles, finally relaxing into the plush of his chair. His legs separate ever so slightly at the action, allowing you to admire his mile-long legs. It’s almost frustrating, how perfect he looks. You imagine that if anyone never looks bad, it’s him.

“I’ve seen you way more than twice, Y/N.”

The simple statement has you turning your eyes away from his figure, meeting his open gaze. He seems so casual, so unbothered, as if that one sentence hasn’t turned your world upside down.

“Wait, what?” You find yourself tripping over your words in the rush to get them out. “Wh-what do you mean you’ve seen me more than twice? I only met you the first time at that contracting dinner a few weeks ago.”

Anton chuckles again, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “Yeah, that was the first time we’ve met, but I’ve seen you so many times. You and your family have been at every major event since we were kids. How could I not see you?”

“But, I’ve never–,”

“I know,” Anton interrupts. “I like to stay outside or in whatever lounge areas I can find. These things always make me really anxious.”

Wow, you didn’t expect such an honest admission from a man of Anton’s status. If anything, his candor makes him much more attractive, as if he could get even more perfect.

“You know we’re supposed to hate each other?” He asks, a small smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Apparently you’re my rival in the field, and I’m supposed to hate everything you say and do.”

Unfortunately, you know the feeling, causing you to let out a small giggle. “Oh trust me, I know. Do you, though?”

“Hate you?”

You nod, fighting a smile as Anton pretends to think.

“Nah,” he eventually answers. “My grandfather taught me from a very young age that I should never harbor negative feelings for beautiful women.”

The implication has heat rushing to your face, forcing you to struggle to keep your composure. “Well, my family has always told me that attractive men always have impure intentions.”

Anton chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He takes a beat before standing, letting his eyes rake over your still seated figure as he begins to retreat down the hallway. It’s impossible to decipher where the intensity of his gaze stems from. He eyes you as if he were hungry, trapping you against the couch with his stare alone.

“Then let me show you just how impure my intentions are.”

The man is gone with little more than a wink and a smile, leaving you with warm cheeks and the scent of champagne clouding your nose.

. . .

You’re surprised to see Anton as soon as the next event, only three weeks later. It’s a simple charity ball for some rare disease research, but for some reason, Anton has decided not to hide in the shadows for this event. It’s interesting to watch how despite his supposed anxiety, he is clearly in his element. He greets everyone kindly, shooting various guests a charming smile as he is introduced to them. His father looks proud of him, a hand kept clapped over his shoulder the entire time.

You wonder if he’s comfortable like this, with a blur of people and faces constantly passing by him. However, you are instantly snapped out of your wondering when a manicured hand grips your shoulder. The feeling of your mothers lips close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine, a perpetually bad omen.

“Straighten up,” she scolds. “We’re going over to talk to the Lees. Their son is making a public appearance at an event like this for the first time. No funny business.”

You would laugh if not for the uncomfortable way her nails dig into your shoulder. It forces you to instantly fall in line behind your father, taking a deep breath as you get closer to the Lees. What is only a few seconds feels like hours until you finally stand face to face with your supposed rival.

“Yoon Sang, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” your father greets, shaking the hands of the head of the Lee family.

He even leans in to place a friendly kiss on Mrs. Lee’s cheek. You find yourself standing frozen in place as the parents exchange greetings, unable to do anything but stare at the man before you. He sports his signature charming smile, mouth full of perfectly white teeth on display. Not for the first time, you feel your face grow warm.

“We thought it was about time for our Y/N to meet Anton. After all, they will be competitors when they take over the respective businesses, right?”

Your father’s comment snaps you back to attention. However, you are immediately distracted by the feeling of Anton’s large hand engulfing yours, his palm both warm and surprisingly soft to the touch. You have to glance upwards to meet his eyes, but it’s impossible to miss the amused glint in his stare.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I have heard so much about you.”

You force a smile on your face. “The pleasure is all mine.”

It’s easy to tune out the conversation after that, letting the adults blabber on while you reminisce about the feeling of Anton’s hand in yours. The man seems to be similarly distracted, clearly eyeing your figure. The silence between you speaks volumes, and you hope your parents are too deaf to hear it.

“We would love to have Anton over at our headquarters sometime,” your mother suggests, her piercing voice rising above the noise of the ball. “I’m sure Y/N would be happy to show him around!”

You don’t even have time to process the full body panic that begins to overcome you before Anton’s family is readily agreeing.

“I agree that it would be great for them to know the ins and outs of the business,” Mr. Lee replies with an overly saccharine smile. “We would love to have Y/N over for lunch at the estate as well. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find themselves to be friends.”

Your dad chuckles, obviously disgusted by the thought. “You’re so right. The two might even do a merger some day!”

As the group erupts into phony laughter, you feel the beginnings of a migraine tingling behind your left eye. Something about the cacophony of laughs and the dull classical music is making you ache, your stomach starting to swim with nausea. You dare a glance upward, fighting the pain that blooms in your head with the motion.

Anton’s gaze is bright where it meets yours, a soft smile poised on his full lips. His cheeks are dusted with a slight blush, clearly flustered by the implications. There’s a slight fidget in his fingers, twirling expensive rings as a means of soothing himself.

He’s cute, you realize, not for the first time.

It’s only after a few more moments that the families say goodbye, the Lees promising to send a lunch invitation soon. Anton shoots you another smile before he follows behind his family, suddenly looking small despite his large stature. You can’t help but smile as you watch his departure, suddenly realizing that your migraine has disappeared.

. . .

The Lee estate is just as gorgeous as you expected it to be, with tall stone gates and artfully placed landscaping. It looks impossibly large from where you’re seated in the car, causing nerves to begin to creep up your spine. You pass off the butterflies that begin to flutter in your core as obvious intimidation that comes with being on the property of your family’s biggest rivals. It surely has nothing to do with an overly soft voice, broad shoulders, and kind eyes.

“Remember,” your mother had told you before sending you off. “This is business. Reveal nothing and absorb everything. And most importantly, remember that Anton Lee is not your friend.”

You take a step out onto the perfectly paved driveway, surprised to already see someone standing by the door. Anton seems to perk up when you lock eyes, shooting you a polite smile. His wave betrays his excitement, though. You imagine that if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging.

“Y/N, hey! I’m glad you actually came.”

“Please,” you shoot him a cheeky smile. “As if I could ever turn down an invitation from the Lee family.”

Anton lets out a slight groan. “Don’t remind me that this is ‘business.’”

“Well then what would you like for me to call it?”

Anton shrugs, turning to hold the front door open for you. It’s only when you pass through the threshold, Anton still standing behind you that he responds.

“A lunch date.” Before you have the chance to respond, Anton is shutting the door behind you both. “Come this way. Food’s on the patio.”

It takes a few turns down intricate hallways to get to a set of double doors that lead to the patio. As promised, there’s an assortment of sandwiches and salad laid out on a round table, two seats set across from each other. You would be impressed, if not for the even more stunning view that lay before you.

The patio looks out on sprawling gardens, tall bushes and blooming flowers swaying softly in the breeze. A little beyond the landscaping, a wooden dock leads out to a large pond, its greenish-blue water seemingly sparkling under the midday sun.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe out, unable to take your eyes off the sight before you.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? My parents have always had an affinity for water.”

You imagine that all of their properties have pools or lakes, much like this one. Meanwhile, your own family prefers the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle, never expanding beyond brutalist modern penthouses in the tallest apartment buildings in the city. It must be nice, you imagine, to have a space that feels like a home and not just another office.

Eventually, the two of you sit, settling into a comfortable silence as you distribute food amongst yourselves. It’s quite amusing to watch Anton as he eats, clearly possessing the hunger of a growing young man while forcing himself to take small bites and practice the etiquette of an heir. You wonder if you look the same, so obviously restrained while you want to let loose, if only for a bit.

Despite the fact that you haven’t seen another person since you set foot in the Lee estate, you know that people must be somewhere. There are always eyes on you.

“I’m surprised that your family was so adamant about having me over,” you begin, settling back in your chair. “I thought I was the enemy.”

Anton smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well you know what they say. Keep the enemy close and all that.”

“Is that what you want to do? Keep me close?”

You know you’re treading in dangerous waters. All it would take is one word about the obvious flirting to Anton’s parents for you to become your family’s disgrace. You can practically see the headline now: Conglomerate Heiress Gets Rejected By Rivals’ Son. Your family would disown you. And yet, as color begins to flood Anton’s cheeks, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Yeah,” he says, voice coming out even softer than usual. “I think that is what I want to do.”

You duck your head, clearing your throat in an attempt to settle the flutter in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

A sudden interest in lunch leaves both of you munching away in silence. It’s peaceful, despite blushing cheeks and racing heartbeats. It allows you to realize that being around Anton is unlike being around anyone else in your family’s circle. Here, there’s no pressure to be prim and proper, no pressure to listen out for secret ins and outs of business.

It’s odd to find comfort in the one person who is supposed to bring you anything but. And yet, with the warmth of the sun on your face and the pleasant fullness in your belly, you’ve never felt more at home.

“You know,” Anton starts once you have both cleared your plates. “I think we’re supposed to be talking about business.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Can I be honest?”

Anton nods slightly, honey brown hair shifting across his forehead.

“The business is the last thing I want to talk about.”

Anton smiles. “Trust me, I feel the same way.”

There’s a beat of silence, the two of you content to simply sit as the breeze ruffles the flowers that dot the landscape. When Anton speaks again, you watch his mouth, noting the way that his lips hold the same hue of the red tulips in the nearby flower bed.

“Can I show you something?”

The simple question has your gaze flickering back upwards, trying to ignore the way your heart races when his eyes meet yours.

“Sure,” you whisper, words instantly carried away by the wind.

Following behind Anton through the grass proves to be harder than you imagined, his long legs allowing him to move with a grace and speed that is difficult to match. He leads you in between a maze of flower beds, bringing you deeper into the garden until you’re surrounded by tall hedges on either side. From here, it’s impossible to see the house, so you just continue to follow behind Anton. You find yourself eyeing the broadness of his shoulders and the way his shirt shifts across the muscles of his back as he walks. It’s hypnotizing, so much so that you don’t realize that you have arrived at your destination.

“This is my thinking spot,” Anton says with a little flutter of his arms, clearly trying to present the space to you.

The hedge maze has opened up to a small central pocket, not housing much except for a small fountain and a stone bench. Anton is quick to take a seat, motioning for you to occupy the space next to him. It’s a bit of a squeeze, putting you and Anton close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin on your own. You dig your nails into the stone of the bench, hoping that it will steel your nerves.

“I like to come out here when my parents get in my head about the business. It’s pretty peaceful.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, despite knowing that no one is within earshot. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

There’s an airiness to Anton’s voice that has you turning to face him. You take in a sharp inhale when you notice that his eyes are already on you, the close proximity leaving your faces mere inches away from each other. The overwhelming rush of blood in your ears forces you to turn away, taking a deep breath to calm your thundering heartbeat.

“You take all the girls here?” You aim for teasing, but the slight break in your voice makes it err more on the side of desperation.

Anton shakes his head earnestly. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here who isn’t my family.”

The admission feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Except there’s no pain, just a rush of warmth that climbs up your throat like ivy. Anton is clearly surprised as well, his own words deepening the pretty flush that has taken hold on his cheeks. His bottom lip is trapped by his teeth, its plushness oh so enticing in the afternoon sun.

“Y-you know,” you stutter out, swallowing thickly before continuing. “When you said you had impure intentions, I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t think I could joke about how bad I want you.”

It should feel like a corny line. It should feel like something he says to all the girls. After all, he’s Anton Lee. He could get anyone he wanted at the drop of a hat. So why does it feel so real when he says it to you? Why does it feel like those words are meant for you, and only you?

Anton’s gravity is pulling you closer, allowing you to lean further into his space. You’re close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, coming out in gentle puffs that reveal just how fast his heart is racing. He has released his bottom lip by now, leaving it glossy with saliva. It’s impossible not to anticipate the smooth glide of it against your own.

A sudden vibration snaps you both out of your bubble, the two of you popping apart as if you were repelling magnets. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the vibration is coming from your own phone, buzzing incessantly. You shoot Anton an apologetic look before stepping away to take the call.

“We need you back home,” your mother rushes from the other side of the line, not bothering to waste time greeting you. “Your father wants to hear about your business with the Lees before he heads to his strategy meeting in an hour.”

“But the Lee house is thirty minutes away!”

You can practically hear your mother’s eye roll over the phone. “Then you better get going.”

. . .

Business meeting, my house at 4pm?

The text comes as both a surprise and the most expected invitation in the world. In your flurry to leave his house the week before, you had made sure to leave the man with your number. In turn, he smiled wide, promising to invite you over for another “business meeting” soon.

Before you can inquire about how much business will actually be necessary to discuss, your phone buzzed again.

My parents just left for a business trip to Milan.

A flutter rushes through your stomach at the implications. It’s clear what that means, that the two of you will finally have a chance to act on your chemistry without the watchful eyes of competitive families. The two of you will finally get to exist as your own people, and not as rivals and heirs of major global conglomerates.

The thought alone has you spending extra time on your appearance as you get ready. You make sure your hair sits just right and that your lips are perfectly glossy before pulling on a swimsuit and heading over. You try your best to remain as still as possible during the entire ride there, knowing that nerves in combination with the late summer heat will be enough to set you aflame.

Your heart is slamming in your chest by the time you finally pull into Anton’s driveway. It’s accompanied by a soft flutter of affection when you spot Anton’s figure, waving at you from the doorway. The wide smile on his face alone is enough to melt you. But the relaxed fit of his muscle tee and the way his swim shorts sit low on his hips has your face flooding with heat.

He greets you with a tight hug when you cross the threshold into the house. You try not to swoon at the firm pressure of his arms around your torso, ignoring the heat of his bare skin on your own. Anton had never touched you before, not beyond a simple handshake exchanged in front of parents, always respectful to a fault. For the first time, you find yourself grateful for that fact, knowing that now that you’ve had a taste of his touch, you will forever be addicted.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Anton gushes. “My parents have been really getting on my nerves about business and competition lately.”

“So you decided to invite the competition over to chill?”

Anton smiles, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “No, I invited the competition over to swim!”

So that’s why he reminded you to wear a bathing suit mere minutes before you left for his house. It makes sense, from the minimal texts that the two of you exchanged. Anton was always excited about the balanced heat of late summer, citing it as the perfect time for a lakeside swim. You wouldn’t know, of course, never having the luxury of having a lake in your backyard.

“What about your staff?”

“I let everyone have the afternoon off,” Anton responds proudly before letting his smile sink into something softer, more private. “I just wanted us to have some time alone.”

The simple admission rings out loudly in the otherwise quiet house. It’s clear how badly Anton wants this, how bad he wants your company despite the taboo that comes with it. Unsurprisingly, you find yourself wanting it just as bad, if not more. You’ve never craved anyone’s presence the way you have craved Anton’s, despite him being the one person in the world that you supposedly need to keep your distance from.

A small nod on your end is enough for Anton’s smile to grow once again, pearly whites on full display as his eyes wrinkle at the corners. The sight alone has your heart beating a little harder in your chest, the minor flutter in your abdomen growing into a full stampede of emotions. The feeling only intensifies as Anton engulfs your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he leads you out into the backyard.

The late afternoon sun sparkles against the water, illuminating everything in a blue-yellow glow. It’s the most captivating sight for miles, you’re sure, until Anton begins to take his shirt off. The way his muscles shift under his unblemished skin rivals the beautiful surface of the lake, sparkling in its own way. His shoulder blades dance across his back enticingly as he leans down to remove his socks and shoes.

He shoots you a smile over his shoulder before cannonballing right into the water.

It takes only a few seconds for the man to reemerge, slicking his honey brown hair off of his forehead. His biceps bulge with the movement before waving you into the water. It’s as clear of a signal as any, but you can’t help but hesitate, suddenly shy at the thought of stripping down to your bikini in the presence of such a man. But the delicate reflection of sunlight in his eyes and the easy smile on his face is enough to draw you in.

Before you know it, you’re discarding your clothes, taking a running head start to join Anton in the water.

Your skin is submerged in an icy chill, the water surprisingly cool for so late in the day. But soon the warmth of another body is nearing, making the cold that much more bearable. You resurface with a giggle, giddy from the feeling of swimming so long. Instantly, Anton is joining in, clearly happy seeing you filled with such glee.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” You exclaim, shrieking when Anton splashes a bit of water your way.

“It’ll get better,” Anton grins. “You just gotta keep swimming.”

It’s easy to do as told, letting your body relax as you continue to wade in the cool water. Eventually you let yourself fall into your back, feeling the contrast between the warm sun on your face and the cool water surrounding your body. It’s serene, allowing you to let your worries quite literally float away. However, the feeling of a chilled hand grazing your hip is enough to snap you out of your relaxation, scrambling to right yourself in panic.

“Sorry!” Anton chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just getting bored without you.”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, finding that the pace of your heart is beginning to quicken for an entirely different reason.

Anton looks especially beautiful like this, with his damp hair splayed messily across his head and drops of water dripping down his face. The sun has just begun to set, painting Anton’s skin with a beautiful golden hue. His eyes glisten just like the water, sunlight sparkling as it dances across the reflective surfaces. Like this, Anton seems so bright, so luminous, that hating him seems impossible.

“I’m really glad you came today,” Anton says, his voice dropping to that soft shy tone he always uses in the presence of others. “I’m glad to have someone who gets what it's like.”

You can’t resist the smile that begins to tug on the corners of your mouth. “You’re not just saying this to get my family’s business secrets?”

Anton huffs out a laugh. “No. I’m saying this because I really like you. I like spending time with you, even though I’m supposed to hate it.”

With every word, you find yourself drifting closer to the man, his hand remaining steady on your hip as you tread lightly. Despite the obvious effort to keep your head above water, you feel like you’re drowning. But the slick feeling of Anton’s skin against yours reminds you that you won’t drown. Anton won’t let you.

“I like you, too.”

The simple admission has Anton’s face flushing, the pretty rose color glistening orange in the light. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. You hate to dull his beauty in this moment, but you have to.

“But what about our families? It’s not like the two of us can ever be anything.”

Anton sighs, his face dropping with realization. “I know, but…is it crazy to say that I don’t care?”

The hand on your hip tightens, pulling you even closer into Anton’s space. It’s close enough that the two of you end up bumping knees every so often, constantly moving to keep yourselves afloat. Here, in his space, you can see the way that his lashes cast subtle shadows on his cheeks. It’s easy to count the few moles that pepper his face and neck, sitting stark upon unblemished skin.

When his eyes meet yours, it becomes clear what you wish to do. No, what you need to do.

“Anton,” you whisper. “What did you mean when you said you had impure intentions?”

The man moves to open his mouth, but before he can get the first syllable out, you cut him off.

“Don’t tell me,” you coo. “Show me.”

You would be lying if you said you never thought about the feeling of Anton’s plush lips on yours. In reality, you spent too many nights lying awake, thinking about the slick feel of his mouth on yours, of the way his large hands would feel clutching onto your body, of the feel of his soft brown strands underneath your fingertips.

But dreams never compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to the pure bliss of having Anton’s mouth slide against your own. He moves fervently, letting the kiss carry the twinge of desperation that you both have felt since you’ve met. It’s far from the polite way that you expected Anton Lee to kiss, but that makes it that much better.

His nose grazes your cheek as he tilts his head, angling himself to kiss you deeper. His tongue is warm as it eases its way into your mouth, the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill of the lake. The hand that was once grasping your hip travels down to your backside and thigh, lifting you up to wrap yourself around his waist. It’s improper, at the very least, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Anton sighs softly into your mouth.

It feels like ages before the two of you part, chests heaving where they remain pressed together. You’re so close that you imagine that even water can’t exist between you two. Anton’s abdomen is solid where your core is pressed up against him, supporting your weight so that neither of you are at risk of sinking.

“That,” Anton whispers, “is what I meant by impure intentions.

You can’t help but giggle at the boy’s breathless tone, suddenly feeling giddy that you were the one to make him this way. You were the one to fluster the ever-perfect Anton Lee. It was you. It’s always been you.

“Our parents…” you mutter reflexively, your mind a war zone.

“Hey,” Anton coos, bringing a hand under your chin.

With just a gentle tilt, you meet his eyes, instantly getting lost in the way his gaze bores into yours. As if he can’t help himself, Anton leans in to place a quick peck on your lips. When you part, a soft whine escapes your lips, mourning the loss of your lover’s kiss.

“Y/N, we’ll figure it out. I won’t let this go south because of our parents.”

You nod nervously, trying your hardest to believe in the reassurance that Anton is trying to provide you. As if he could sense the residual nerves, Anton presses his lips against your forehead in a soft kiss. The sensation makes your eyes flutter shut, a content smile beginning to grown on your face. After a brief moment, Anton chuckles.

“Who knows?” He mutters. “Maybe our parents will get that merger after all.”

. . .

[8 years later]

BREAKING NEWS: Lee Enterprises and TOTAL, Inc. have announced a historic merger to form one mega-corporation. This announcement comes one year after CEO and President of Lee Enterprises, Anton Lee, and Chairperson of TOTAL, Inc., Y/N Y/L/N, announced their marriage. The new multinational conglomerate will be known as Lakeside, LLC, and is said to have a current stock value of over five billion dollars.

.FIN.

#anton imagines #riize imagines #riize #anton lee #riize fluff #riize smut #written in the stars

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legendofmorons · 2 months ago

Text

Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter seven - so much for star dust

Pairing: Pre poly! Chain x reader, Wind & reader

Rating: T

Summary: While you spend some time examining everything that has come up since you fell out of the sky the boys face their own emotions, Epona throws a fit, and the pair that is Dark and Onyx scheme.

(Aka: reader breaks down, Legend is sad and has a shitty joke to cheer up Wars and Hyrule, Dink and dreader are in love and making problems, Wind proves a point, you soulmate with Twi and Wild so hard you have the same reaction about two different things, and some lady spills the "secret" that the chain has Feelings About you)

Warnings: cursing, grief, guilt, breakdowns

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

Previous Masterlist Next

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Three days after the chain leaves, you find yourself fairing about as well as you can hope. With your inexplicable ability to read hylian, you're able to read the odd jobs papers on the town bulletin board, and you earn some rupees through that.

Spooky seems inclined to hang around you, following you through the market or the town. They even tried to follow you into the inn!

(That didn't work. The inn keeper wasn't a fan. Spooky did, however, find your room window and sleep under it.)

The good news is you get great prices when shopping with a panther at your side! Also, creeps stay further away, which is definitely a bonus.

You are fairly confident Spooky has adopted you. Because they've brought you a few birds and also like to nap across your legs. So... yeah.

But you aren't complaining. They're self-sufficient enough to hunt their own food, and you don't have to clean a panther litter box.

Researching at the library dosen’t turn up any new information on the soulmate thing. This isn't a surprise but a disappointment.

The dreams have been getting more vivid, and the only hint you've found there was in a book called 'The Magic of Dreams', but that book was poorly written and had no sources. The book claims that dreams that frequent and vivid that truly feel like memories are often from 'past lives'.

Which is ridiculous because you live on Earth, not in Hyrule. How could your past lives be in a different universe?

What are you, Hylia's favorite character or something? Are you an anime protagonist?

The biggest concern for you right now is just trying to get used to this new way of life. It's strange to be in a place where there's no light pollution, no public transport, no cameras everywhere, and no headphones.

Today, you find your afternoon spent helping a heavily pregnant woman with her laundry. Washing it in the river before wringing it our and hanging it to dry.

Her son runs around to the side with Spooky, though she has the sense to look over frequently.

"May I ask about your... panther?" The woman - Alice - asks you.

You hum, rinsing out a tunic. "Spooky is sweet. They just came up to me a few days ago. I'm not sure why, though."

You wring the garment out before setting it on the rock beside you.

"How strange. You're sure they aren't dangerous?"

You smile, "Not to your son. But to birds? Maybe."

Alice gives a nervous giggle. "If you're sure."

"I am." You say.

And really, regardless of your personal views on children who would ever knowingly let a child so close to a bloodthirsty animal? You wouldn't.

"Where did the lovely young men you came with go off to?" Alice asks as she wrings out a blanket.

You ignore the immediate and strange urge to flinch at the reminder of the boys. "I'm not too sure. They have a quest they're on."

The words strike a strange resignment within you, as if this is something you've had to say many times. (You've never said it before that you recall.)

"I see. That's a shame they were lovely."

"They are," You manage to smile.

You both return to the laundry, allowing the silence to linger in a mostly comforting way.

There's a cool breeze, and the birds sing in the trees. It's nice here.

You would still like to get back to Earth, but there are much worse places to be.

You could be stuck in a zombie apocalypse or something else, not fun and even more dangerous.

You let yourself exist here for a moment, safe and in a world you've always longed to truly see.

The air is crisp, and the grass is sift where you touch it. The river rushes easily with little forms darting about the shallows.

Spooky brushes by you, rumbling happily as they bound away again.

"Do you think you'll see those men again?" Alice asks you.

There's an instinctive 'yes' that wells up in your throat, but you bite it back anyway. You can't know that for sure.

There is no guarantee of such things.

"I'm not sure."

"Do you want to?" She asks, giving you a little smile.

Again, the instinctive agreement is something you bite back. You settle on "I don't know..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to poke if they've been rude."

You crack a half smile, "They're good guys... I think I just make them uncomfortable for the most part."

"Really? They kept staring at you like you hold the key to their hearts, and they think they've lost you," Alice muses as she wrings out a dress.

"I'm sorry, what?" You ask breathlessly and thoroughly caught off gaurd.

What is she talking about? Every time you catch them looking at you, they look sad, angry, calculating, or comcerningly polite. How is she saying they looked at you any other way?

Is she imagining things? Is she lying?

"Those boys couldn't keep their eyes off you, you'd look away, and they'd stare at you like they're lost." She laughs a little, sounding as if she believes herself.

"Oh..."

If that's the case, it is probably just because you're a sore reminder of their soulmate. That... explains a lot, actually.

Hopefully, Wind hasn't lost that soulmate yet and never will. That kid has already done so much.

As you and Alice finish the laundry, you find yourself facing the pile of things you keep putting off in your mind.

Once the laundry is done, you accept the two blue rupees with a 'thank you' before leading Spooky across the little foot bridge to go sit on the stone bench with the bird bath beside it.

The bench sits in a park area of sorts, but it's empty for now, so you will use it to let your mind process... everything.

First of all, you are in Hyrule! A place that less than two weeks ago was no more than a setting for a popular video game franchise!

You fell out of the sky! Miraculously didn't have a bunch of injuries from that, and you met nine different Links.

Who falls out of the sky (unharmed!) and meets nine different people from their favorite video game franchise?

You apparently...but you also have some sort of Disney princess thing going on because you have a panther that has picked you as it's person.

None of this makes sense. It feels a lot more like a fever dream than reality.

If you're going to be honest, it feels a lot more like a fanfiction written by someone who has a fixation on hurt / comfort media.

But...

It is real.

You can't place why, but you know that this is real against all logic.

Against all odds, this is reality.

How the fuck are you even here though?!

Why you?

Why now?

Who brought you here?

Why can you read everything? It's in a fictional language! Except... it isn't fictional.

If Hyrule is real... are all the other fictional worlds real too?

Okay- nope! You can't think about that right now.

One crisis at a time, two max. Your crisis docket is chock full today, we can try again tomorrow.

Fuck... Hyrule is real, you've met nine different Links, magic is real, and you have no idea what's going on.

Maybe this fits in with the multiverse theory. Your brain woukd like it to.

Okay...

Multiverse... We can say that's real here maybe? You are in the world of Zelda

But... there's also those dreams and half memories that have been taunting and confusing you to no end.

Those fucking dreams and half memories!

Oh!

You want answers for that!

Why in the name of literally any and every deity are you experiencing half memories and dreams of men who can barely stand you?!

Even as creative as your brain gets that dosen’t account for how vivid and achingly real they feel.

The way you hear their voices speak in your mind as if they hold you as the most important person to them... hurts.

It hurts a lot.

You want someone to love you the way they love you in your weird half memories. It would be wonderful!

But that's not reality.

Sure, you definitely had a crush on the Links growing up, you aren't the only one. You have always thought them good looking, strong, honorable, and maybe a little mischievous depending on the source material.

You can admit that the real deal is also crush worthy, but it's hard to feel that way when everyone keeps you at arm's length.

The dreams make it harder than anything though. Living through scenarios where you are romantically involved, even the bad dreams, make it hard to remember the truth when you wake up.

You swear Hyrule called you Honeybee when he healed you...

Legend called you Trinket when he gave you that potion...

What do those even mean?

What are you supposed to do?

All you want is to go find them.

There's a soul deep ache to be with them but you can't place why.

Are you horrible?

Is your brain making up strange dreams?

Or worse... are you somehow reliving memories of the soulmate they always lose? Have you somehow been cursed to do that?

Did you do something to make that happen?

Is it like a ghost situation?

You groan, putting your face in your hands.

"Fuck."

The sentiment isn't nearly strong enough, but you don't know what else you can say. (Double fuck?)

Spooky comes over and nudges your arm with their nose, making an inquisitive sound.

You look over and give a straining smile. "Hey, pumpkin... I don't suppose you know what's happening?"

Spooky dosen’t answer, but they do push your arms away so they can put their head on your knee.

They stare up at you with bright eyes.

You huff a little but scratch behind their ear. "I don't guess you could tell me anyway."

Spooky just purrs, leaning into your fingers.

You laugh a little, only half fragile.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see a dark figure move, but when you turn your head to check, no one is there. How odd.

No stranger than the rest of your life lately, maybe it's that shadow that took on those lizafos for you? Which...

Honestly that experience is another thing you don't understand but you can't find the energy to spiral about it.

Maybe it was Four's shadow? Or is his shadow still dead?

Oh shit- the heroes are not only real people, but you played through their trauma like it was a game to entertain you! You know so much more about their lives than you should, and it feels sick.

Knowing what you know makes your skin crawl and your throat feel thick.

What will they even say if they ever find out?

Spooky nudges you again to get your attention. They seem to be trying to cheer you up, which is sweet.

"Thank you, pumpkin..."

-------

"Epona, I have had about enough of your sass," Twilight grits as he tries yet again to lead his mare to cross the bridge, pronouncing ever word in a slow, steady pace that is engineered so he can't possibly be misunderstood.

Epona stands firm, refusing to move for the seventh time. She gives him her best 'unimpressed horse' whinny.

Wind snorts, "Do you want a hand?"

"I doubt anyone could get her to move," Twilight manages before he grits his teeth again.

Wild sighs, "What's going on with her anyway?"

"She's been like this since we left town." Four muses, "Did she want more rest?"

"You broke her horsey heart making her leave (Y/n)," Wind rolls his eyes, "She's just upset."

"Sailor, if you know so much how about you get her across the bridge?" Twilight asks in the same slow and clear manner.

Wind, just snorts, holding his hand out for the reigns. "Maybe I will."

Twilight passes the youngest hero the reigns and crosses his arms. The rancher is willing to bet money that this fails.

After all, the kid grew up by the sea, horses aren't his specialty.

Wind takes the reigns before bending down and ripping some grass out of the ground. The teen offers the grass to Epona, roots and all.

Epona takes the grass and begins to chew it, seemingly accepting the bribe.

Wind starts walking, gently pulling at the reigns. "Come on, Epona. We're just going to cross the bridge okay?"

Epona chews her grass, not moving but not fighting either.

Twilight smirks.

"Come on, pretty girl. Help me prove rancher wrong." Wind coaxes gently before he clicks his tongue twice.

Epona does move this time, slow and obviously unhappy, but she moves.

Wind leads Epona across the bridge while Twilight clenches his jaw.

The rancher is facing the fact that his mare is apparently a traitor.

"That's a good girl," Wind praises, patting Epona's neck. "Good job, sweetheart."

The pirate is not above stealing the name you use for the horse, and it seems to please the mare so he won't stop anytime soon. He likes proving a point after all.

Legend snickers, "She must be mad at you, cowboy."

"Shut up," Twilight hisses.

Time snorts and Wild just laughs.

Sky pats Twilight's shoulder.

Four and Hyrule share a look, biting back smiles.

"All you did was bribe her, sailor," Twilight says as he crosses the bridge with Wild and Legend on his heels.

The rancher crosses his arms as he moves, only a little sore about being proven wrong.

Warriors, already across the bridge, laughs as he pets Epona. "You could have bribed her too."

"Shut it, city boy." Twilight huffs.

Wild - the traitor - laughs at that, snapping a picture on his slate.

There's a distinct sense of fear that crawls up the spine if every hero followed by a ground shaking roar.

"Fuck." Wild hisses, whipping around.

Twilight looks up and sees two gleeocks and promptly thinks 'fuck ain't enough of a sentiment'.

"Do we have to fight?" Wind groans.

Time shoots the pirate a deadpan look. "Yes, we do."

"That shadow is getting more vicious," Twilight draws lowly as he grips his sword hilt.

Wild and Legend both start sending arrows at the beasts and the fight commences.

Twilight dodges out of the way of lightning and hears an explosion in the sky. He supposes Wild found the bomb arrows.

Probably good.

But then black blood drips from the sky.

"Double fuck!" Wild hisses.

"Shiver me timbers!" Wind shrieks, choosing the moment to be obnoxious while not cursing becomes he's mad at Time.

Twilight takes a second to be grateful you aren't here for this before he knocks Legend out of the way and deflects a lightning ball with a wooden shield.

The fight descends into adrenaline fueled instincts.

The boys lose track of their own movements, they can't see keep track if others.

By the time it's over, they're all half dead and grateful for potions.

-------

Dark sighs heavily where he sits, crossing his arms as he glares at the wall from within the shadows.

"Are you seriously pouting right now?" Onyx chuckles as they look over from where they are currently rearranging your things to be easier to find.

They aren't doing that because they like you or anything, the chaos was just pissing them off.

"I do not pout, I am made of evil," Dark pouts harder.

Onyx snorts, "That is absolutely bullshit, viper. Knock it off."

"It is not bullshit."

"You know how I feel about being lied to," Onyx warns sweetly as they finish tidying your things.

They set the little seagull figurine in the back, unsure why you like it to much.

Dark gives a slow, heavy sigh. "It should not be so difficult to end nine lives. You understand that, don't you, darling lamb?"

Onyx rolls their eyes and turns to look their lover over. "Can't you focus on the challenge instead of a short term disappointment? Where's my vicious man?"

"My darling lamb, am I not allowed to be frustrated?"

"You can be frustrated, but you have a habit of wallowing in it." Onyx points out, awars of the way their lover gets.

"I do not wallow."

"Dark."

"I only wallow the acceptable amount."

Onyx gives a thoroughly unimpressed look.

Dark opens his arms, "I am mourning a great plan, I demand you comfort me."

They roll their eyes, but they go over anyway. They always will. They will always go to home when he asks.

Onyx collapses into Dark's arms carelessly, more than trusting that he will keep them both upright. It's his job anyway as the one demanding this.

They press their face against his chest, listening to his heart. "You'll get them next time, viper."

Dark pulls them close, one hand on the back of their thigh and the other on their shoulder. "I will eviscerate them."

"It was a good plan," Onyx says softly. "It would have taken one or two of them alone out."

"They're still alive."

"I know. But with (Y/n) out of the way you can attack without fear."

"That's true..."

"Why don't I make a plan? You need a break and I'm bored." Onyx muses, ideas already half spinning through their mind.

Dark grins sharper, half smitten and half cruel. "I do love your twisted mind."

Onyx hums, pressing a kiss to his throat. "You flatter me."

"I do not. I just adore your plans."

Onyx grins. "Good. I am amazing."

"You are. My darling lamb."

"What can we do about getting (Y/n) out of this time and somewhere else?"

"Whatever you want, I will make happen." He promises them easily, without thought or deceit.

-------

Legend sits away from the group but is careful to make sure he's close enough to Hyrule and Warriors to watch them after the disaster that the Gleeocks wrought. He is incredibly grateful that you are not with them right now, it means you are safe.

That's what matters anyway.

He misses you.

By the Golden Three, he misses you so much.

You are safe though, in a town with nice people and away from all the tense behaviors his brothers exhibit to you.

Legend could kick himself for letting his grief cloud his judgments and treating anyonethe way he was treating you before. It's only made worse knowing he took his grief for his soulmate... out on his soulmate.

He is such an asshole.

Fuck.

"I still don't understand why their magic has to be identical," Hyrule says to Warriors.

Legend swallows and turns his attention to the conversation between the traveler and the captain.

Warriors sighs, "Does it matter?"

"You don't get it. Their magic was a perfect copy. Magic is always unique to an individual. Even similar magic signatures have some variation."

Warriors rubs his temples. "Hyrule, you know as well as I do that the goddesses aren't that kind."

Hyrule sighs, rubbing his arm absently. "I guess..."

"You're looking for our soulmate, and you probably always will. I understand, I do it too, but you'll run yourself into the grave if you aren't careful," the captain warns with a heavy tone as he looks up to the stars.

Legend bites the inside of his cheek. It's just one more secret he holds, and it's to save his brothers the same grief he faces.

You don't even seem to know.

It takes everything he has to keep from spilling the truth. If he tells them, after the momentary joy, they too will have to know they lost you. Again.

Legend can't do that to them.

"Isn't there anything that (Y/n) did that made you think they were really our soulmate?" Hyrule asks with a weak voice as he stares into the fire.

Warriors lets out a bitter chuckle. "Almost everything. The day they saw the lizafos before we did? They shoved Wind behind them without a shield or sword to their name. It was a reflex."

"Oh."

"That's how I lost them, to an ambush... their reactions are identical, Rulie... But (Y/n) isn't Dove."

Hyrule looks to the captain with a look that is all but a shattering heart. "How do you know?"

"Because we aren't that lucky, and they've never said anything about knowing a Link."

Hyrule swallows hard, hugging himself tightly. "You're probably right..."

Legend sighs, shoving down the words that want to come out. He stands and walks to the traveler's side before he sits back down.

Warriors just raises a brow.

Legend wraps an arm around Hyrule's shoulders, pulling the other into his side.

Hyrule leans into Legend.

"Finally joining the fun?" Warriors challenges.

Legend scoffs, "You weren't having fun, pretty boy. You were having a wake."

The captain rolls his eyes. "Like you can be more cheerful."

Legend snorts, "Is that a challenge?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Knock knock."

Hyrule stifles a laugh, side eyeing his predecessor.

"You're fucking kidding me," Warriors huffs incredulously.

"I said 'knock knock'," Legend raises a brow.

The captain lets out a theatrical sigh, "Who's there?"

Legend gives a grin, "Boo."

"Boo who?" Warriors asks as he crosses his arms.

"Aw, don't cry pretty boy," Legend coos in a sarcastic tone, "It's just a joke."

Hyrule laughs, swatting at Legend playfully. "That was horrible! Jesus Christ, Ledge."

"How did you manage to be a prick through a knock knock joke?" Warriors asks, sounding rather impressed.

"I'm just that great," Legend smirks.

What he dosen’t tell them is that the joke is one he used on you back when you were kids whenever you were down. Back then, when you were both still children, the joke always got at least a little amusement from you.

He finds that as much as he avoids the joke because of the memory it holds... Legend dosen’t mind sharing it now with his brothers.

You would certainly approve.

"That was ridiculous," Warriors informs him.

Legend shrugs, "You just have bad taste."

"I do not!" Warriors scoffs.

Hyrule snickers, "You so do.'

Legend lets the two argue as they hop from topic to topic, taking pride in the fact he got them to stop poking an emotional wound that will never quite heal. He just wants to help them.

He just wants them to be okay.

He already failed Hyrule horribly just by not finishing Ganon for good...

Legend can't fail the traveler again.

He can't fail any of them.

You would be doing everything you can for them if you were aware, and so it's Legend's job to do so in your steed.

Hopefully you're okay in that town.

Maybe... maybe he could go visit? Just to check.

His Pegasus boots would make it easier.

No.

The best choice Legend can make is to let you go... so he will.

Legend will let you go, and he will stay away because that's what's best for you. That's what matters.

-------

Taglist: @danyzta @vrsin @silver-the-pendejo @tulip-does-stuff @justanotherweeb666 @yourlocaltreesimp @blueberrysungie @victoryssong23 @shu-leepy @sleepifonlyigoti @sour-patch-delight @phlying-squirrel @pumpkincitrus

#misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu written in the stars (forever on loop) au #lu written in the stars au #written in the stars au

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 2 years ago

Text

DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave

Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.

He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.

Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!

Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!

Jason: What the hell are you doing?

Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.

Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?

Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.

A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.

Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.

Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.

Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.

Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.

Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.

Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.

Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.

Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.

Jason: First day?

Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.

Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.

Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.

The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?

Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.

Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?

Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.

Danny: Sure, why not.

Danny looks at the headstone.

Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.

Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?

Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.

Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.

Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*

Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?

Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.

Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.

Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.

The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.

Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.

~~~~~

Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.

Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.

But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.

~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~

Dick: How did you two meet?

Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.

Bruce: What? Who dared?

Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.

Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.

Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.

Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.

Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.

Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.

~~~~~

Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.

Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.

Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.

~~~~~~

Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?

Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.

Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.

Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?

Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.

Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.

Jason: Whore?

Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.

Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.

~~~~~

Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.

Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.

The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.

~~~~~

In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?

~~~~~

Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.

GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.

Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.

~~~~~

Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #ghost hunger au #dead on main #danny phantom x jason todd #danny fenton x jason todd #dirty talk #??? idk

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littlexdeaths · 11 months ago

Text

borrow the moonlight - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: descriptions of trauma/night terrors, upside down, mentions of eddie and reader’s deaths, allusions to smut, body insecurities, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, one use of daddy

a/n: this might not make a lot of sense if you haven’t read the first part, so you can do that here.

also thank you to my baby @strangerstilinski for looking this over for me and @mugloversonly for the suggestion on the title 💕

based on as long as you’re mine from wicked

word count: 3.4k

His feet hit the ground at a rapid pace, his makeshift shield clutched tightly in his fist. His spear had long been abandoned, the metal lid now his only source of protection.

Not much farther now, keep pushing.

The flapping of bat wings are getting closer as Dustin’s high pitched screams cut through the air.

“Eddie! Run faster!”

He’s almost there, the trailer door is barely ten feet away now. And that much closer to you. His ears are ringing and your words echo through his head.

Please come back to us.

Eddie’s foot catches on a vine, causing him to go crashing to the ground. His eyes widen in fear as the swarm of demobats suddenly surround him. Another scream pierces the air as he holds the shield over his face, dread filling his chest.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

You weren’t supposed to go through the gate, you were supposed to stay in Hawkins. Why didn’t you listen to him for once? But before Eddie can process what’s happening he feels a bite pierce through the flesh of his stomach, his own screams sounding far away in his ears.

But when he feels your hands on his chest the panic really sets in, and you move the shield away from his face. The bats are circling the both of you now, and he attempts to tuck you into his side. The metal lid now covers your faces as the male uses his own body to shield the rest of you.

“I couldn’t just leave you in here,” your voice shakes and tears stream down your cheeks.

A painful cry leaves your lips as one of the creatures bites down on your calf.

“Stupid, baby, you’re so stupid!” He cries before pressing his lips to yours.

The creatures circling above you let out one more loud shriek, and Dustin watches in utter horror as they dive down toward you both. Before Eddie can process what’s happening, you’ve rolled yourself on top of him. Shielding his body from the onslaught of demobats, your cries of pain echo loudly in his ears.

No no no.

Eddie awakes with a start, a muffled scream ripping its way out of his lungs as he sits straight up in bed. He’s dripping sweat, chest rising and falling as he attempts to catch his breath. He frantically pats the spot beside him; he panics once he notices it’s empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

Meaning you hadn’t been in bed for quite some time. He swings his legs over the side of the mattress, but he doesn’t get the chance to stand before you’re rushing back into your bedroom. His heart rate begins to slow as he takes you in, fully coming back to reality.

You’re wearing one of his old Garfield t-shirts, the neck is so stretched out it’s basically hanging off of your shoulder. Your legs are bare, just a pair of fuzzy socks adorning your feet and the sight brings a small smile to his lips.

Your hair is messy from sleep and pulled back from your face. But the dark circles under your eyes tell him you’ve been up for a lot longer than he realizes.

Despite all of that, you still managed to take his breath away.

“Another nightmare?” your voice is soft, practically a whisper as you approach him.

Eddie reaches forward to grab your shirt in his fist, pulling you between his open legs. He buries his face in your middle and you wrap your arms around him, pressing a tender kiss to his sweaty curls.

“You— you went through the gate.” His voice is muffled as you run your fingers through his curls.

“You… you…”

Eddie can’t speak the words, but you already know what he was going to say.

His shoulders shake as he starts to cry, but the implication of his words makes a lump form in your throat.

“It’s okay baby, it was just a dream. I’m right here.”

You let him soak your shirt with his tears, knowing he needed to let it out before he’d calm down completely. It had been well over a week since he had a nightmare of this magnitude, and you had thought he was beginning to improve.

Clearly, you were very wrong.

This was the first time he had never dreamt of you dying though, and it broke your heart. In the beginning it was him who had been the one to comfort you when you awoke in the dead of the night. Dreams of his lifeless body, trapped in the upside down forever flashing behind your eyes. But the further away from Hawkins you went, is when his nightmares began.

So now it was your turn to comfort him.

When his breathing starts to slow, he carefully pulls away from your middle. His eyes are bloodshot and glassy as he glances up at you, the tear streaks beginning to dry on his cheeks.

“Can I see her?” he asks hoarsely.

You smile softly, carefully untangling yourself from him. You press a light kiss to his forehead, before you slip out of the room. Eddie wipes any remaining tears from his cheeks, running a hand through his messy curls in an attempt to tame them.

You return a few moments later with a bundle of blankets in your arms. Eddie’s face immediately lights up at the sight of you two, grinning as you carefully pass the sleeping infant into his awaiting arms.

“I just got her to go back to sleep, so try not to wake her,” you whisper.

You take a seat beside him on the bed, watching fondly as he gazes down at the little girl. A calloused finger lightly strokes her rosy cheek, before she sleepily wraps her small hand around his finger. Her dark curls are sticking up wildly, much like his own. She was almost a carbon copy of him, except for her eyes.

Those were all you.

“I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long… she was just so fussy,” you apologize, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Exhaustion soon melts into worry the longer you look at him, worried that your prolonged absence was the reason for his sudden night terror. Despite knowing that these things were quite common, especially considering what you both had gone through.

Eddie just shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s little fist before meeting your eyes.

“I’m fine, sweetheart, I promise. Having both of you here really helps,” he reassures you.

When Winnie starts to stir in his arms, he begins to gently rock her back and forth, cooing at her every so often. The sight of the two of them together makes your heart feel more full than you could have ever anticipated. You want him to soak up as much time with her as possible, so you slip out of the room again and into your small kitchen.

After everything that happened with Vecna, closing the gates and eventually clearing Eddie’s name— you both put Hawkin’s in your rearview mirror.

You found yourself in a small, but cute seaside town on the coast of Washington. After you quickly realized the hustle and bustle of city life just wasn’t for either of you. While Indianapolis was a great city, you barely made it a month before the nightmares started.

The constant noise only seemed to fuel his growing anxiety, and he woke up screaming more nights than not. His body would be drenched in sweat and he trembled in your arms as the memories of the upside down flashed behind his eyes. The longer you stayed there the worse it became, so you packed up and moved again.

But you would do anything for him, if it meant he was by your side. That he was safe.

Opening the kitchen cabinet you grab out one of the many mugs that used to line the walls of the Munson trailer, one that Wayne had insisted you take with you. Cradling the chipped ceramic in between your palms, you grab out a packet of hot chocolate and empty the powder into the mug. You turn on your electric kettle, before glancing out the kitchen window.

The night is absolutely still, quiet.

Much like you preferred it to be. Experiencing life in the big city made you realize just how much you missed your sleepy little hometown. Before it was overrun by monsters.

You let your eyes slip shut, remembering all those nights you spent with Eddie at lover’s lake. Before your life was turned upside down.

Only the sounds of crickets and your mingled breathing fill the night air. The moon shone brightly overhead, engulfing you both in a pale glow. His fingers would trail over your smooth skin, his mouth swallowing your soft whimpers when they dip further between your thighs—

You’re suddenly snapped out of your daydream when you hear the soft pad of footsteps coming down the hall towards you. And your eyes flutter open when you feel his arms slip around your waist.

“Hopefully she doesn’t wake up again tonight,” he mumbles sleepily, pulling you flush against his chest.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, watching as you begin pouring the warm water into the mug.

“Is that for me?” he asks, his breath tickles your neck and causes you to squirm in his embrace.

His lip lifts in a cheshire like grin when the movement has you unintentionally grinding your ass back into him.

“Mhm, to help you sleep.”

You shrug, knowing from past experience how a cup of hot chocolate was always able to coax him back into a deep slumber. It was something Wayne had mentioned in passing once, it was one of the only things that would help when Eddie awoke from a nightmare as a young boy.

You glance up at the clock on the wall, 4:07 am. Eddie would have to be up to go back into the shop in a few hours.

He hums, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and traveling down your throat. His hands that were once secure around your middle begin to wander lower, brushing against the hem of your t-shirt.

“Hmm… I think I know of something better to help me sleep, darlin’.”

Eddie spins you around in his arms, a small gasp escaping you at the sudden movement. The brunette quickly lifts you, setting you on the counter before slotting himself between your open legs. His lips are on yours before you have a chance to reply, your arms slipping around his neck to tug him closer.

His urgency leaves you a little breathless when his mouth trails back down the side of your neck, descending… lower lower lower. Until his lips brush against the curve of your knee and those brown hues gaze up at you longingly from his newfound position on the kitchen floor.

“Eddie…” you hum, caressing the stubble that lines his jaw.

The male continues to press his lips along the apex of your thighs, only stopping when you grip his curls in your fist. You tug on them harshly, in an effort to get his attention, a throaty moan leaves him from your actions.

“Please, let me,” you pause as he sucks onto the flesh of your inner thigh. A soft whine leaves you as his teeth soon graze over that same spot, “Let me take care of you for once.”

The brunette glances up at you again, and the pleading look on your face is enough to convince him. Not that Eddie could ever tell you no, he’s been wrapped around your finger from the first moment he laid eyes on you.

He rises to his feet without another word and helps you down from the counter. You eagerly switch places, guiding him back against the cabinets. Your hands trail down the bare skin of his chest, fingers showing extra care to the uneven flesh.

The scars that littered his torso were just another reminder of what the two of you had been through. Eddie hated them, and for the longest time afterwards he never let you see them. And while they were a reminder of the horrific things he had gone through in that other dimension, they were also a testament of his strength.

That he fought his way back to you— both of you.

“You’re beautiful, Eds,” you mumble, your lips passing over where your fingertips had just been.

Until you sink to your knees, gripping the elastic band of his boxers and tugging them down his thighs. His hardened cock springs free once the fabric pools at his feet, and he kicks them to the side. Your mouth practically waters as you take him in fully. Reaching out to wrap a delicate hand around the base of his shaft, and you feel him shudder.

“I love you,” he breathes, dark eyes watching you with the utmost admiration.

You press a kiss to the pink tip before taking him past your full lips, a low groan leaving his own. His head tilts back as you engulf him completely, fingers gripping the edge of the counter to stable himself. Eddie practically whimpers when he feels you gag around him, hips jutting forward until he hits the back of your throat.

While his eyes have slipped shut, yours are focused intently on him. The way his teeth sink into his lower lip when he tries to quiet himself, and his brows scrunch together when your tongue drags along the underside of his cock. They only flutter open again when he reaches out to rest his palm on the back of your head, slowly fucking himself into your mouth.

“That’s it… shit. You look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he grunts.

The volume of his moans steadily increases as you pick up the pace. One of your hands rests on his thigh, while the other moves to cup his balls. His face continues to contort in pleasure, each drag of his cock against your tongue has heat pooling in your lower belly. His thigh begins to tremble beneath your palm, and you know he’s close.

Before he reaches that precipice, he’s pulling you off him. A string of saliva drips down your chin as you practically pout up at him. Eddie laughs softly, taking your hands to help you to your feet.

“Don’t give me that look, baby,” he cradles your face in his palms. “I just don’t want this to end yet.”

The male leans forward, capturing your lips with his own. He begins to walk you backwards until you bump into the kitchen table, only pulling away to lift the sleep shirt over your head. Eddie guides your panties down your thighs and helps you step out of the fabric.

“Lay back for me, pretty girl,” while you raise an eyebrow at his request, a playful smile graces over his features, and that dimple makes an appearance.

Eddie carefully lifts you again, and you hiss quietly as the cool wood of the table touches your overheated skin.

“It’s my turn to worship you,” he asserts.

Eddie then kisses the tip of your nose before coaxing you to lay back against the hard surface. A small shiver runs through you as he leans over you, the light above the stove bathing the kitchen in a warm, yellow hue. It casts an almost halo-like glow around his silhouette, he looks like an angel.

His head dips, kissing along your collarbone and your breath begins to pick up in your chest. He can feel your heart racing beneath his lips, which spurs him on further. Those same lips graze over the swell of your breasts, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak. He soon switched to show the same amount of attention to the other.

But Eddie doesn’t stop there, allowing his lips to travel over the stretch marks that zigzagged across your lower tummy and hips.

Your own set of battle scars, while different from his— only made you more beautiful in his eyes.

He could tell from the change in your breathing that you were nervous, hands pushing his long curls back from his face. While his body had changed, so had yours. Growing a little version of the two of you had widened your hips, thighs. The raised stripes along your skin was something you were still getting used to.

Despite knowing how much he adored you, that little voice in the back of your head continued to tell you that you weren't as desirable as you used to be. That he wouldn’t want you in the same way he used to, your body was too different. Eddie notices the far off look in your eyes, and he already knows the reason for it.

But he wouldn’t let you dwell on those thoughts for long.

“So goddamn gorgeous…” he nuzzles his face into your stomach, blowing raspberries against your skin. The brunette grins at you as you giggle softly, “That’s my girl.”

He slowly crawls on top of you, resting his palms on either side of your head before slotting himself in between your open thighs. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his dark eyes beginning to melt your remaining defenses.

You reach between your bodies to grasp his shaft, lining him up with your entrance. He sinks in slowly, savoring the way your warm walls envelop him fully. Once he’s fully seated at your deepest point, his head drops. Forehead resting against your own as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie gives an experimental thrust forward, his cock dragging against your walls in such a delicious manner. The feeling has you whining softly, clutching onto him as he fills you to the brim with each gentle rock of his hips. The table beneath you creaks in protest, but the sound only encourages him to go deeper— faster.

Determined to watch you fall apart beneath him.

And when his cock hits that perfect spot that has you keening aloud, he presses his lips to yours to silence you. You can feel him everywhere, body completely molded against yours. So much so that you can’t tell where you begin and he ends.

Eddie can feel the way you start to tremble beneath him, your manicured nails digging harshly into his biceps. Just another way that you’ve marked him as your own. His lips soon detach from your own, trailing down your jaw to the hollow of your throat.

It’s been far too long since you’ve been like this, between his long hours at the shop and taking care of your newborn baby… you haven’t been able to have this time together.

So as much as you both would love to do this for hours, your bodies clearly have other plans.

Another whimper of his name has his cock twitching inside you, his thrusts beginning to pick up speed as your walls clamp down harder around him.

“You gonna make me a daddy again, angel?” he pants into your damp skin, the question being the thing to finally push you over the edge.

You cry out incoherent babbles of his name and exclamations as your body shakes. Stars dancing behind your eyes when they squeeze shut. Curses tumble from his mouth when you feel him spill inside you, continuing to rock his hips until the exhaustion finally overtakes him.

Eddie all but collapses onto you, sweaty and spent. You giggle when he nips at your shoulder, lifting his head to regard you with the sleepiest of expressions.

But that peace doesn’t last long.

The phone rings suddenly, a shrill sound makes you wince. A loud wail soon follows, both sounds piercing your ears. You both are scrambling off the table in a flurry of limbs.

“Can you go get her, please?” you groan, pulling your discarded shirt over your head before you reach for the receiver.

Eddie haphazardly pulls his boxers back up his legs before he rushes down the hall toward your crying infant.

“Hello?”

You can’t hide the bitterness from flooding your tone, knowing sleep wouldn’t be coming for quite some time now that your daughter was awake again.

“You need to come back to Hawkins… now.”

You would recognize Robin’s voice anywhere, but the urgency in her tone has your brows scrunching in confusion.

You grip the phone tighter in your palm, “Why? Rob, what's going on?”

It’s silent for a beat, only the sounds of her shuddered breathing on the other end of the line.

“He’s back.”

tagging some moots who seemed interested 💕@loserboysandlithium @razzeith @vamp-bunny @take-everything-you-can @probablyin-bed @mmunson86 @eddies-acousticguitar @nailbatanddungeon @guiltyasquinn

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #[ the munson files ]

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channieschocco · 3 months ago

Text

Stray Kids members giving you their sweater (maknae line)

Han

"Babyyyy," Han whined loudly. "Please, just take my sweater."

The two of you were at the playground late at night, around midnight sitting on the swings and having deep conversations. The wind had just picked up a bit and you felt slightly cold in your shirt.

Jisung had offered you his hoodie multiple times now, but you:

Didn't want him to be cold without his own source of warmth and

You thought he looked too good in his hoodie with his messy hair and bare face, you didn't want to ruin his look since you were so obsessed with how he looked right now.

"No, it's completely fine, Jisung." You countered. "You shouldn't be cold instead of me."

Silence.

"Ji?" You asked into the darkness.

A low voice whispered in your ear. "I won't be cold." He steadied your swing from behind and seamlessly slipped his hoodie over your head. "I don't get cold."

You blushed and just as you leaned in for a kiss, he pushed your swing forwards and started laughing. You grabbed on tightly to the swing as you practically flew. "Han Jisung, I swear!"

Felix

"Babe?" Felix's low voice asked quietly. His hand hovered above your arm hesitantly and he kept his voice steady.

The two of you had just finished arguing (which was mostly your fault) and you had stepped outside in nothing but leggings and a tee shirt in the cold to take a break for a minute. You wanted to cool off before you said something you didn't mean, but now you seemed a bit too cold.

You had been outside on the front step for about fifteen minutes and Felix had just stepped outside to check on you. He had his favorite hoodie slung around his arm and a concerned expression on his face.

"Are you cold?"

You tried to ignore him so hard, but you finally turned around to face him and his hoodie. "Yes..." You mumbled. You had your arms wrapped tightly across your stomach to try and keep warm, but it obviously wasn't working.

"Please, take this then." Felix held out his favorite hoodie towards you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You grabbed the hoodie from his hand and slowly pulled it over your head.

"Thanks." It felt instantly warmer, the hoodie still being warm from Felix's body heat and you snuggled deep into the fabric. You also forgot that he was there for a minute and felt teers pricking at the corners of your eyelids when you finally managed to looked into his nervous eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Lix." Your voice wabbled. "I didn't want to argue." You confessed. "I didn'y mean to make you upset in any way and I'm so sorry." You repeated.

Felix didn't reply and instead pulled you closer into his arms. You were instantly engulfed in the comforting scent of his cologne and the feel of his body. Something you had felt so many times before, yet it never grew any less perfect.

"It's all going to be okay, my love." His deep voice soothed you. "Everything will turn out perfect."

"I love you." You whispered into his shoulder.

"I love you too, baby."

Seungmin

You and Seungmin were sitting together on the long couch of the practice room late one night. He strummed quietly on his guitar and jotted down lyrics in his notebook while you flipped through your absolute favorite novel.

(Comment what your favorite novel is!!!)

The heater in the room had broken a few weeks ago, so there was no heat filling the room as you two hung out. Seungmin came prepared with his jacket, however you completely forgot about the inconvenience and only wore a thin, short sleeved shirt.

You had huddled up in the corner of the couch, listening to Seungmin's melodies and tried to keep warm but it wasn't enough any more. You stood up with your book and moved to snuggle up against Seungmin who instantly froze in surprise.

"Are you...okay?" He asked.

"I'm cold." You replied. "I forgot that the heater broke and I didn't bring a sweater or jacket." You leaned your head on his shoulder, making him adjust his guitar.

"Take mine." He said, removing his arms from the sleeves of the jacket he was wearing and handing it over to you.

It was warm and smelled just like him. You placed it over your shoulders like a blanket and attempted to peek at Seungmin's written lyrics.

"Hey!" He exclaimed. "No peeking!"

"Why not?" You pouted. "I'm your girlfriend! I should be able to see your masterpieces!"

"Most of these are about you." He said. "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you saw it before it was released, now would it?"

You laughed and kissed his cheek. "I'd love to hear them whenever, baby. I don't care if there's professional background tracks or just your singing."

Seugmin blushed and picked his guitar back up. "I suppose I could play a little..."

I.N

"The forecast said it was going to snow!" I.N laughed. "Why didn't you wear something warmer?"

The two of you were walking to your favorite cafe one Wednesday afternoon to pick up some coffee and cookies, but you definately didn't check the forecast and ended up wearing a skirt over tights and a long sleeve shirt.

"I didn't check the weather app, Jeongin!" You replied. "I would have worn this fabulous skirt anyways."

"I know how fabulous this skirt is, jagi, but please take my coat." He unzipped his black puffy coat and held it out to you. "I don't want my fabulous girlfriend freezing on a walk for coffee."

"I want to wear this!" You said, wanting to keep your fabulous outfit on display. You hadn't worked so hard to put it together this morning for nothing.

"Please?" He asked innocently. "For me?"

You grumbled something about wanting to look nice and proceeded to grab Jeongin's coat and putting it on.

"Thank you, baby." He said as you aproached the cafe.

"Thank you." You replied before opening the cafe's door and heading inside for a delicious coffee and cookie.

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if there's anything that you want to see me write about in the future, I would really appreciate it! Please also give me some feedback on my writing! I have been writing other things for years now and consider writing one of my favorite hobbies (second to reading!). I have only recently gotten into writing K-pop fanfic thingys and it is much more different and difficult. I hope you enjoyes<33

#kpop #kpop imagines #stray kids #kpop x reader #skz #han jisung #felix x reader #felix lee #jeongin #seungmin

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 days ago

Text

@steddiebbang project reveal: Kiss the Cook

I'm stoked to reveal my project for the 2025 round of the @steddiebbang. "Kiss the Cook", in which chef Steve doms game store owner Eddie into healthier eating habits. Oh, and they also fall in love, go viral on social media, and accidentally save their neighborhood!

The art for this project will be done by the fantastic @sammichtastic, and I'm so excited to be working with them!!! ❤️

Summary and snippet under the cut.

“Hi, I'm Steve.”

He holds out a hand. A large, graceful hand with ridiculously long fingers. It's dotted in tiny moles and still glistening with residue moisture and dish soap, and Eddie feels like this is a very inopportune time to remember how very gay he is.

“Hi, I'm ga-” he says. Realizes his brain-to-mouth filter is busted. Reroutes. “-me. Game store. The one across the street. I own it. I'm Eddie.”

Steve chuckles. His handshake is strong and firm.

“Oh, I know. You've been lurking out there smoking your cigarettes and staring daggers at my door for weeks, like some sort of grumpy dragon in a leather jacket. I was a bit worried you were plotting to burn the place down, but Dustin assured me you were cool.”

“Wha-” Eddie says. “Burn? No. I wasn't- … That would be crazy. I was just curious what you were making of it. I used to come here, sometimes, when it was still-”

“Sometimes?” Dustin pipes up. He has claimed one of the barstools and is righting his hat, using a chrome napkin holder as a mirror. “More like every day. You probably were Benny’s main source of income.”

“Yes, Dustin. Thank you,” Eddie hisses, thinking that he must come up with a really cruel and creative way to kill off the kid's bard. Steve’s face, meanwhile, lights up.

“Oh, really? Well, in that case I hope I'll be seeing you more often.”

His eyes go large. He looks a bit like an eager puppy dog that way. A broad-shouldered, golden-skinned, floofy-haired puppy dog with stupidly hot, stupidly large hands. One of which is still clutching Eddie’s in a light, warm grip.

Eddie yanks his hand back.

“Oh, I dunno,” he mutters. “I'm a bit of a picky eater.”

Dustin snorts into the printed menu he has picked up from the counter. The unfortunate bard's imminent demise is getting more gruesome by the second.

Steve just keeps smiling. “Well, let me convince you? It's just me in the kitchen right now, so the menu is still a bit on the small side, but if you tell me what you like, I can whip something up.”

Eddie cringes. Something in those eyes makes his stomach do funny flips. Or maybe he actually is more hungry than he thought.

That, or that cereal from earlier was bad.

“That really isn't necessary,” he hedges. “And I left my wallet over at my shop, so-”

Steve waves him off. “Please, it’s on the house. A little peace offering from your friendly neighbourhood chef.”

He winks as he says it. Eddie doesn’t know why he finds it hot. He also doesn't have any time to examine it, because Dustin spins around so fast the barstool wobbles.

“Can you make us burgers? The ones in your feed looked-”

“Excuse me, dipshit, was I talking to you?” Steve doesn’t even take his eyes off Eddie. He sort of wishes he would.

Dustin scoffs. “Eddie would eat wet cardboard if you put enough ketchup on it, you're wasting your-”

“Burgers are fine,” Eddie blurts. Anything to get the two of them to shut the hell up, really. “I used to have Benny’s cheeseburger all the time.”

“That's what I said,” Dustin mutters. “Wet cardboard.”

Eddie wonders if he can come up with a way to resurrect the poor bard, simply so that he can kill him a second time.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #steddie brainrot #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie big bang 2025 #steddie big bang #kiss the cook

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miniseokminnies · 1 year ago

Text

through a different lens — l.sm

❥ pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader ❥ theme: meet cute, strangers to something ❥ wc: ~3.4k ❥ warnings: fluff, language barrier, mentions of alcohol, author is obviously down bad, author also obviously doesn't live in london (let them live) ❥ a/n: this was supposed to be for valentine's day but kind of turned into a bigger project than i anticipated so it's for seokmin's birthday as well! i really like this one so please let me know what you think!! likes and reblogs appreciated

This wasn’t your scene. Oh God this was not your scene. Your friends always want to go clubbing on Friday nights, and being a good friend you always gave in. However, right about now, when the music was vibrating your skull, being anywhere else sounded amazing.

“y/n!” the voice of your friend pierced through the noise and brought you back from inside your head, “come take a shot!” she smiled at you. Reluctantly you joined your friends, all drunker than you. Someone shoved the small glass into your hand and you threw it back easily and quickly. The liquid burned all the way down into your stomach, you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

Eyes wandering toward the exit of the crowded bar, the thought crossed your mind to leave. Looking back toward your friends they were once again engaged in their own conversations, paying little attention to you. They all expect you to slip out early without telling anyone, you always do.

Cool air bloomed in your lungs and you felt like you could breathe for the first time tonight. The street in front of you was not particularly crowded, the walk home will probably be easy and refreshing. Taking another deep breath of fresh air you began in the direction of your flat. The city used to excite you, but these days you’d rather be home with some tea and a good book. You really wished you had stayed home tonight.

“Excuse me?” you heard a timid voice cut the silence. You suppressed a groan, you hadn’t even been walking for five minutes. Turning toward the source of the voice you were met with the confused face of a man, “Do you know…a place to eat?” he asked, accompanying the question with an eating motion with his hand.

“Uh yeah, there’s a great place down the street a ways and around the corner, if you go past Pennie’s you’ve gone way too far,” looking back at the man you could see the concentration on his face as he tried to remember your directions. Feeling bold from the remaining alcohol in your system you took a step closer to him, “I’ll show you, I could go for a bite too” He smiled at you then, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, even in the darkness of the street you swear his teeth were shining.

“Thank you” he finally said with a bow of his head, breaking your trance and setting your feet in motion. The two of you walked side by side, your arms folded around you, and him clutching his camera. The walk was silent, aside from the man asking to stop to snap pictures a few times. It was odd though, the silence was never once uncomfortable for you, and he made no indication that it was for him either.

Every so often you glanced up at him, getting a better look at him now that the street was more well lit. You noticed his strong nose first, the way the light settled on his face made him look ethereal. Judging by his amazement for a shitty London street, you knew he was a tourist. Looking back at your feet you smiled to yourself, it was nice to see someone so excited about something you see every day.

“This is it!” you smile at him as the two of you approach the restaurant. He nods at you, seemingly waiting for you to enter. He trails behind you as you enter the building and inform the staff that you’ll be needing a table for two. Once you were seated you broke the tension, “So…where are you from?” you asked hesitantly.

“I am from Korea” he spoke slowly, but you saw his eyes light up at your question. Speaking of his eyes, sitting across the table from him you now saw them fully, a warm brown that compliments his tanned skin nicely. There are crinkles at the corners of his eyes, indicating that smile he flashed at you in the street was a normal part of his communication.

“That’s far,” you remarked, taking a sip of your water, “what brings you here?”

“Mmm” he thought for a moment, “holiday” he answered simply. You nodded as he looked around the restaurant, “my name is Seokmin” his eyes found yours again.

“My name is y/n” you exchanged with a small smile. Something about the kindness in his eyes made you squirm under his gaze. When the waiter came around to your table you once again decided to be bold, ordering fish and chips for Seokmin and yourself. If he came all the way from Korea you felt it was your duty to show him London’s best classics. Was it jumping too far to feel like he had met you in the street for a reason?

“Two beers, please” Seokmin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts once again. He was smiling up at the waiter holding up two fingers. The waiter nodded and headed toward the kitchen.

“Good call” you smiled at him, hoping to get a better look at his face when he smiles in return. Just your luck, he turned to you beaming. His eyes do crinkle when he smiles.

The food came quickly, not that you would have minded if it took a little longer than usual. Seokmin has a way of making you feel at ease, even in a social situation that would typically make you incredibly nervous. He did his best keeping up with conversation, you felt terrible about not being able to communicate in his native language.

Seokmin stared down at his plate, his eyes widening at the amount of food. “Try it, try it” you nearly squealed. You did not even dare to pick up your fork until you knew he liked the food. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as his delicate fingers picked his fork up from the table. He lifted the bite of fish to his lips and popped it in his mouth. Immediately, he let out a satisfied sound.

“This is good!” he smiled after he swallowed. You smiled back at him and cut the fish with your fork as well. At some point in the meal, you were completely enthralled in Seokmin. The way he moved interested you even and even though you didn’t know nearly anything about him, somehow you knew you had never met anyone like him.

Something then made him laugh under his breath. Putting your glass down you gave him a questioning look. Trying not to smile, he gestured with his finger around his mouth. At this, your hand flew to your lips and you flushed with embarrassment as you felt the foam from your beer on your upper lip.

You could hear him nearly choking on his laugh and your eyes lifted again to meet his. Immediately, he tried to avert his glance, but you could tell he was still stifling his giggles. You felt your cheeks heat up again, and butterflies settle in your stomach. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in that moment. Pulling out your phone and positioning it so he was in your view finder you remarked,

“You should see how silly you look trying to hold back your teasing,” his eyes crinkled again at this, butterflies erupted in your stomach, and he threw up a peace sign, inviting you to take the picture. “Look!” you exclaimed, turning your phone so he could see the picture. Seokmin was laughing now, throwing his head back and clapping, the whole thing. You were lucky that in his excitement, he missed the fond look you gave him without even realizing.

“Do you know your way back to where you’re staying?” you asked earnestly once the two of you had paid and were outside the restaurant. He nodded at you and turned his phone, much like you did earlier, so you could see that he had the address and walking directions pulled up. “Good, now,” you pulled your phone out, “give me your number, I don’t want you getting lost”

***

Your life continued as normal the next day. Waking up, thankful you didn’t drink much the night before, you slipped out of bed toward the kitchen. Clicking on the kettle you think about the night before. Meeting Seokmin almost felt like it was a dream, but you have a photo on your phone to prove it wasn’t. He had also insisted that you send the picture you took, so you do have at least one thread of text conversation.

You reached for a mug, wishing you were taller, and heard your phone buzz on the counter. Assuming it was one of your friends texting you asking where you disappeared to last night, you continued to make your tea. Then your phone buzzed two more times, none of your friends would be that desperate to talk to you. Once your tea bag was securely in your mug you grabbed your phone.

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): y/n

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): the bus

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): ?????

Your heart skipped a beat realizing he actually texted you. Then, you began laughing realizing what he was asking.

You: do you need help?

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): yes

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): please

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent their location

Oh. Oh. He wanted to meet up again, you nearly spat out your tea seeing the notifications pop in. Checking his location you saw that he is at a bus stop a twenty minute walk away from you. You scrambled to get ready and ran out the door.

You saw him immediately when you rounded the corner to the stop. He was looking through his pictures on his camera, fully engrossed in his task. He looked up as you approached and moved toward you.

“y/n” he breathed

“How may I help” you smiled, giving a dramatic bow. He moved toward you, pulling out his phone. Standing at your side he showed his phone screen, with a bus route pulled up. “oh, easy” you looked up at him, trying not to blush at the sudden closeness, “I take that bus all the time”

You paid Seokmin’s bus fare, it’s the least you could do after he paid for the dinner you invited yourself to last night. Seokmin dragged you by the sleeve to the back of the bus, which is a place you would normally avoid but seeing how excited he was, you didn’t mind.

As the bus began to move Seokmin watched out the window, the city zooming by. You watched him watch the window. He looked cute when he was focused. The thick black framed glasses perched on his nose reflected the scenery. Without thinking you pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of him just like last night. Seokmin must have seen you out of the corner of his eye because he turned toward you.

He raised his camera and watched you through the viewfinder for several moments. You covered your face with your hands in a futile attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. You heard the shutter click a few times and then silence. Removing your hands you look up at him to find he is looking right back at you. Seemingly he became flustered and turned back towards the window.

You realized halfway through the trip, you weren’t actually sure where you two were going. Sure, you took this route all the time, but you didn’t know where Seokmin wanted to go. The only indication you had that it was time to get off the bus was Seokmin standing up suddenly. It was a stop you never get off at, but you follow him out and onto the street.

He grabbed his phone and pulled you closer to him by your sleeve. You felt your stomach swoop at the sudden breaking of the flimsy wall between you. Trying to not read too far into his action you glanced at his phone. He had pulled up the walking directions to a nearby thrift shop.

The walk was not too long, and the two of you passed the time easily. Every so often Seokmin would point something out and tell you the Korean word for it, which in turn you would give him the English word. His eyes were trained on you so attentively when you spoke it made you almost nervous.

Rounding the corner you saw the store he was hoping to visit. You may have been here once or twice, but it’s nowhere you frequent. He pulled the door open and held it for you. You smiled at him as a thanks, which earned you a blinding smile in return. Lucky you.

The two of you strayed away from each other, looking in different sections for a while. You swiped through the selection of shirts in your size, trying not to look around for Seokmin. The fabric in your hands didn’t feel real, you were distracted. You moved around to the rack of pants, which was closer to the set of stairs in the store which led to the music section upstairs.

You continued to browse through the pants, not really interested. Movement near the stairs made you look up, Seokmin was looking at the records hanging on the wall. He investigated them on his own for several moments, fully engrossed, before looking around for something, you hoped it was you he was looking for. As if he could read your mind his eyes settled on you from across the room, smiling, he called

“Jagiya!” As soon as the word rolled off his tongue, his eyes widened and his hand flew to his mouth. He obviously was under the impression he said something he shouldn’t have, if only you knew what it meant, “y/n” he corrected himself after taking a moment to calm down. You left the rack of pants behind almost immediately,

“Hmm?” you hummed once you were at his side on the stairs. Sleeves of your jackets brushing against each other. Seokmin pointed at the records on the wall, he was obviously excited. “Music lover, hm?” you smiled up at him.

“Yes” he smiled back, eyes almost closed, “I’m a singer” he added. Seokmin wished you could see your face right now, you looked amazed at the confession, your lips forming a little ‘o’.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime” you said before remembering you had no idea how long you would be around each other. However, he just beamed and nodded at you. The two of you wandered around the music store upstairs for a while, Seokmin taking a particular interest in the selection of The Beatles vinyls.

Watching him closely, you noted the ring he wore, the delicate way he moved through the records. Seokmin was so interesting to you, everything he did seemed to be with purpose, but he also seemed carefree at times. Again, you wished so desperately to be able to communicate with him easier.

Eventually, you made it out of the store. The sun bit through the cold of the air and warmed your face. Closing your eyes you moved to face the sun and took a deep breath. You stayed here for several moments before hearing the click of Seokmin’s shutter again. Your eyes snapped open and toward him, his camera still raised, he watched you through the viewfinder again.

“Hey!” you laughed, “Stop that”

“You look happy” he replied simply, lowering his camera, looking at you fondly. There was nothing to do about the blush blooming across your cheeks, and you did nothing to hide it this time. He walked toward you and gestured down the street, “shall we walk?” he suggested.

The walk was quiet, but again, comfortable. Seokmin switched what hand he was carrying his camera in, letting the hand closest to you drop to his side. Periodically, his knuckles brushed against yours, giving you the feeling of electricity running up your arm every time. The tension crackled between the two of you until Seokmin stopped in front of a restaurant, “Hungry?” he looked at you, tilting his head to the side, a gesture that reminded you so much of a puppy it was insane.

“So hungry,” you agreed. Soon enough the two of you were seated at a booth that felt more like a couch. Comfortable silence fell between you as you looked over the menu, you eyed him a few times before he put his menu down.

After your orders were placed Seokmin brought out his camera and began to look through his photos. Every so often he would tilt the screen so you could see, most of the shots he showed you were of you. Suddenly, his phone began to buzz incessantly. You watched as his eyebrows knit together in confusion and he picked up his phone to check it.

“Ah” he sighed, and placed his phone face down back on the table, “My friend Soonyoung….” his eyes drifted around the restaurant, he was thinking of what to say next, “jagiya—“ he laughed and clutched the white knit beanie that sat on his head, “my English”

“Talk to me in Korean,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “I won’t understand, but I’ll listen” you assured him. His eyes lit up, and he immediately began talking animatedly. You were amazed at the change in him once he was speaking comfortably. Watching him attentively you took in the way his hands accompanied his enthusiasm.

You could tell, Seokmin was a person who was just full of love. Anyone lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that love was someone you were jealous of. You would do anything to sit in his light for as long as he would allow you.

***

“My last day” Seokmin’s voice still laced with sleep mumbled through your phone. You don’t know what possessed him to call you this morning but you would never complain.

“Today?” you asked, feeling a bit nervous, “do you have plans?”

“Mhmm” he hummed, “Join me later?” you could feel your heart jump up into your throat at the question.

“Of course” you mumbled trying to steady your voice.

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent a location

The sun setting overhead cast the street in watercolors of pinks and blues. Your eyes scanned through the throng of people all here to watch the sunset over the river. He caught your attention almost instantly, he was facing away from the river, arms propped up on the stone barrier, eyes closed enjoying the night air.

As you approached you watched as the breeze caught his bangs and ruffled them. Before making your presence known you snapped a picture of him looking so serene.

“Hey” you ventured, now right in front of him. His eyes cracked open, taking in your frame. Almost instantly his face was overtaken with a smile.

“Hi” he replied. You moved to stand next to him, facing the river and he turned to look out with you. Both of you stood in quiet contemplation for several minutes.

“You know,” you broke through the tension, “I haven’t been here in so long.” your eyes trained on the clock face of Big Ben across the water, “Somehow, you’ve reminded me of all the parts of my city I love” Seokmin shifted to face you,

“I love the city,” you met his eyes, it felt as though he was trying to tell you something.

“You leave tomorrow” you turned toward him, “is it weird if I say I’ll miss you?” Seokmin shook his head as the wind picked up. Once more, the breeze caught both of your hair. Seokmin moved to brush yours aside, searching your eyes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were glued to your spot, you wouldn’t dare move. Finally you felt his slender fingers in your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

You felt your breath hitch in your lungs as Seokmin’s fingers trailed down and he cupped your cheek with his hand. Absentmindedly, you melted into his touch.

“I leave tomorrow” he sighed as he echoed your previous statement. His other hand found your other cheek and his thumb brushed against it softly. The both of you stood frozen for a moment, neither of you wanting to break the spell.

Suddenly, Seokmin was leaning down toward you, and you felt his soft lips brush yours. The kiss was quick, but full of meaning. It seemed like he was communicating all the things he had wanted to say over the last few days that he couldn’t find the words for.

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anon-sect · 9 months ago

Note

I saw you posted transformation with celebrities and you recently posted a transformation into feets, litterraly become part of someone else. Can you transform me into Benji Krol's dick please? I would give anything to become his.

Picture source: internet

Calvin was a huge fan of Benji Krol ever since the early days of his YouTube and Tik Tok videos. He watched all of them at least twice, including the new ones. He was so excited when he heard that Benji was doing a contest where the winner would get to meet him in person and be a part of one of his videos. With the famous Tik Tikor having tons of fans, his chances of winning were very slim, but he would try anyway.

A month later, Benji announced the winner of the contest via one of his videos using the handle of the winner. Benji would be sending the information where they would meet via the handle's email. Calvin couldn't believe that he was the winner out of thousands of others who entered. One hour later, he saw he had received an email from Benji, congratulating him and sending him the information he needed. Calvin was super excited and couldn't wait.

It was three days later that Calvin met Benji in person. He saw that he was indeed a cool person. After a great conversation, he did a crazy video with Benji. He promised after editing it, he would post it online.

"There is one more thing that you won, also." Benji commented as he came back in the room with two drinks in his hands. He handed one to Calvin.

"What else did I win?" Calvin asked as he sipped down the drink. It had a fruity taste, and he loved it. He quickly finished and placed the glass on the table. He saw Benji smiling.

"Oh, it's something very special." Benji replied, looking at Calvin.

Calvin saw Benji looking at him as though he was waiting on something. He suddenly felt extremely drowsy. It was like he couldn't fight his sleep. He just simply passed out without realizing it.

Several hours later, Calvin woke up from his slumber. He was in some dark place that also felt a little sweaty. He tried to speak but had no conventional mouth to say any words. He tried to move, but all motion was that of twitching around. He was so confused. The last thing he remembered was chatting with Benji on the couch. He continued to try to move, but it was much. His whole body felt weird. He felt like he was attached to something he couldn't break free from.

Benji felt his dick twitching in his pants underwear and shorts. "Oh, you are finally awake. Your prize you won is the to be the extra inches on my dick. You and my dick are one now." He laughed as he felt his dick twitching even more than before. "I suggest you calm down. It's permanent. You are mine, and you aren't going anywhere." He added as he posed to take a selfie picture in the mirror. He was satisfied with his contest. One of his fans was now a member of his body.

Calvin couldn't believe what happened to him, but suddenly, his thoughts were being changed. He was Benji's dick. He did like watching his videos. Now, he could be with him 24/7365. He couldn't believe his luck. This was not a curse but a blessing. This was where he was meant to be. And there was no better place than to be a permanent member on Benji's body.

#inanimate transformation #shrinkage #tf story #dick transformation #benji krol #willing permanent transformation

187 notes · View notes

tastesousweet · 1 year ago

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n can only deflect her crush on matt for so long

warnings : smut, banter/cuteness, angst at the end

mickey speaks : sooooooo. yeah. enjoy! (also i imagine lucas as luka sabbat)

THIS IS PART SIX GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLS

“I’M kind of hungry though,” you groan as you stand in front of your open and very bare (besides two scrawny carrots and a few of andrea’s energy drinks) fridge, pouted mouth and limp wrist holding your phone to your ear.

“i’m sure you are, you always seem to be fucking hungry,” matt’s attitude laces into his comment’s comedic undertone.

“don’t be mean,” you close the fridge and begin to look through the many cabinets in your kitchen that are somehow just as bare. “how the fuck are we completely out of food?!”

“ask your fuckin- move out of the way! go! now, move!” matt’s voice cuts into a rage as his attention directs to the cars around him, who he’d debate the validity of their drivers licenses.

his loudness has you pulling your phone away from your ear to let him finish, then bring it back towards you, “hey, let’s use our inside voices when on the phone with someone…” you smile at your own joke as you dig through a never ending junk drawer for a pen.

“hmm let’s go to the grocery store more often so we’re not having our sneaky link take us to eat,” his comeback is as quick as his lane switching.

“well you sure know how to make a girl feel special,” your sarcasm spews as you begin to write out a list for a much needed grocery trip with andrea tomorrow.

“what are you hungry for?” he speaks over the chimes of his turn signal.

“i don’t know,” you mumble clearly not too focused on figuring out what you’d like to eat.

“what’re you doing right now?” he asks.

“nothing,” you say while biting your inner cheek trying to remember the specific brand of orange juice that andrea recently discovered she prefers.

“okay, i’m pulling up in like five, figure out where you wanna go.”

“please?” you question where his manners are among the frequent demands he throws at you.

“mhm, that too.” he half-asses an agreement, “bye.”

you drop your pen and respond with a quick ‘bye’ before hanging up the phone and tucking it into your purse along with your keys.

౨ৎ

matt's car smells of warm citrus and eucalyptus, in contrast to the coolness of the air he currently has blowing. you glance over to him once you're settled into the leather passenger seat, giving you a view of his soft side profile and torso covered with one of his many black hoodies (as if california temperatures weren’t currently at their highest) that fit his figure well, as he focuses on adjusting his hair in the pull down mirror.

the only light source in the car comes in the soft, off-white lighting synced to the mirror, that shines just enough for you to see his full smirk and head shake when you joke, “got someone to look good for?”

he mutters a light, “barely,” before placing the mirror back against the ceiling and changing gears smoothly. “your babysitter didn’t question you?”

you shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, “no, she’s out with some coworkers for a drink. what about yours?”

“didn’t even notice i left.” he shrugs then gestures to the navigation screen that’s now dimly lit, “where do you wanna eat?” your silence speaks volumes to him, “how'd i just know you'd pull this shit? i told you to have it figured out by the time you got in the car!” he groans and looks over to you.

you try to hide a smile due to his irritance, “okay, and what if i just don’t know, matt?!” your hands turn and face the ceiling to show the genuine unsureness of your appetite.

“then, you must not be that hungry,” he shrugs.

you redirect your eyes from him to the road in front of you, “i miss when you were quietly mean, now you’re all obnoxious and loud about it.”

a smirk finds its way to matt's face as he continuously looks from you to the road until you finally look back over to him. “sorry, that was also mean. i don’t hate when you talk, even though you’re rude as fuck.”

matt laughs off the apology he wasn't even seeking from you, “jesus, i wasn't gonna cry over it.”

your stomach is weeping and begging for you to pick a place to eat at this point causing you to lean your head against the window (though you find the vibrations from the motor and awkward dips from the road make the position more uncomfortable than anything) and eye the blurs of brightly lit, primary colored signs. it becomes a little dizzying but eventually slows as matt eases on the brakes.

during the brief pause you take time recognize your surroundings more and just as matt starts to go through the intersection, a breath gets caught in your throat when you spot a small local store you remember going to with remi for lunch a few months back, “wait!”

matt slams on his brakes with a sudden look of fear in his eyes, rocking the both of you far forward then slamming you back into the seats. his face turns to frustration when you laugh a little and ask, “can we stop at that bodega right there?” while pointing out the window.

he raises a hand in view of his back windshield to apologize to the person behind him as he speeds off again and scolds you, "do you have any fucking etiquette?"

"oh wow, that’s a big word for you, matt!" you celebrate. he then takes a sharp turn into the rural parking lot, making you grip the side door as you jump along with the car.

you watch as he easily parks the car and turns off the ignition with a huff, "i doubt some convenience store snacks are gonna hold you over, but whatever."

"never doubt a small local market, this place has a bomb ass hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop and you wouldn’t even know." you defend while opening the car door.

౨ৎ

you lead matt inside while he unashamedly stares at how your hips move as you walk- your skin naturally exposed due to your low waisted lounge pants and small tank top (which makes him want to do nothing more than squeeze, lick, and kiss the area).

you greet the bored cashier the way you tend to greet anyone: as if you know them, and make your way to the back side of the store, the smell of toasted bread gaining potence in the air as you approach.

matt continues to follow as he glances around the very average looking store, with aisles of typical name-brand foods and drinks.

you stop near a bulletin board with a makeshift menu and read over each option. when matt gets closer to you, you feel the need to explain yourself as if it wasn't clear enough, "'m tryin' to figure out what i want."

he only replies with an "mhm," as he focuses on options for himself.

you both take turns separately ordering and paying for food (of course you had to tease him for making it seem as though you being hungry was such a hassle) and find a small table to sit at.

you fiddle with the table caddy, "watch. this will be the best sandwich of your life."

matt sits opposite of you, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, "better be. you had me driving crazy to get to this place."

"i said i was sorry about that!" you dramatically remind him of the apology you gave him when you two initally walked up to the store.

“order for y/n?” the same man (with a heavy east coast accent) you ordered from peeks his head out.

you send matt a smile before getting up and walking over to the window, “thank you so much, it smells amazing.” you compliment.

“‘course and, uh, we’ve got that second order ready as well if you want to take it over,” he offers.

“yeah, i’ll go ahead and take it.” you take the wrapped and acronym-labeled sandwiches in each hand, thanking him once more before beginning to walk over to the table.

“oh how sweet are you? bringin’ my sandwich to me and shit,” matt chuckles as he runs his tongue over his teeth casually.

“a ‘thank you’ would’ve been more than enough,” you take your seat again. the shuffles of wax paper wrapping and distant chimes of the bell near the entrance is the only noise surrounding both of you for your first few bites.

you pause eating to ask, “how’s your sandwich?” you direct your sandwich towards him as both of your hands are occupied in holding said sandwich.

he covers his mouth with a fist as he finishes chewing, nodding his head to give away his answer. he’s not really one to eat for flavor alone so his answer is mediocre, “yeah, it’s good. yours?” he questions while going in for another bite.

“so amazing,” you draw out and jokingly moan into your next bite.

matt’s face scrunches and he can’t wait until the food is out of his mouth to deliver his comment, “gross, just eat your food without all the effects.”

you put up your index finger so that you can swallow before replying, “you really have the nerve to say that through the shit ton of food in your mouth?”

he shrugs and gives a sarcastic smile with his cheeks bunched out and full of his sandwich.

you take a sip of your diet coke before asking, “‘kay, so what’d you do today?” you’re just generally curious and admittedly not the best at being quiet or reserved when around other people.

matt sighs, “you know…talking really takes away the point of this.”

“oh my god, answer the question. don’t be unfun, matt.”

“’m just tryin' to eat,” he laughs through his nose.

“okay, then i’ll go first but you still have to tell me about your day after,” you decide.

“fine,” matt uses a napkin to wipe his mouth a little.

“well, i woke up so fucking early today, i had to get to work by like 5:30 to start helping with an order of six cakes. luckily we prepped a lot the day before and carmen is like the best coworker to have to do that long shift with.”

“six cakes? for one order?”

“yeah, it was for a family reunion and they called about some dietary restrictions for certain cakes plus the different flavors- just shit to make our job harder. but love my job regardless, and the woman who picked them up looked so happy,” you take another sip of your drink, “but after that i went home and basically napped until you called.”

“this is the first thing you’re eating today?” he doesn’t care too much that you haven’t eaten today, rather uses it as an excuse to get you to continue eating so the you both can leave (or maybe this is just what he tells himself).

“i mean i ate some boiled eggs whenever i had down time at work, but yeah i guess.”

“and look at you, wasting your time yappin’ instead of eating. there’s truly no helping you,” he shakes his head slowly back and forth in faux disappointment.

you ignore him, “okay, your turn.” his eyebrows pinch and he takes a sip of his drink, telling you he won’t be answering if you don’t start to eat, “look! i’m eating,” you take a bite to prove yourself.

“right…uhh what did i do today?” he looks up in memory. “i tatted some guy’s face earlier, i guess that was a bit intense.”

“um, yeah that’s intense, what’d he get?!”

“the outline of peru above his cheekbone." matt circles the area on his own face, "it was actually really sentimental; he told this whole story about his mom immigrating here from peru.“

“that's so sweet. did he say why he wanted it on his face?”

matt shrugs, “he wanted to try somewhere he hasn’t before.”

you nod, “and was this your first face tat?”

“no, i’ve done a few before, just haven’t in a while.” matt leans back and scratches the back of his neck to stretch. “ever since i posted that pic of your tat i’ve been booked by all theses girls who want cartoon designs, now nick’s pissed i’m stealing his clientele since ‘it’s his specialty.’”

“well my hello kitty is precious so i can't blame them." you pause, "are you fucking these girls too?” you look at matt before you begin to giggle to yourself and take your final bite.

matt’s eyes widen and he lets a small laugh escape, “no, that kinda luck can only come so often. and how slutty would i be to hookup with all of my clients?” though he wouldn’t call you strictly a client anymore- but he doesn’t correct it since he’s unsure if the two of you are necessarily friends either.

“one: don’t hype yourself too much, two: there’s nothing wrong with being a slut, matt. you should embrace your nature.” you smile before gesturing to his last bit of sandwich and mocking, “catch up now, you’ve been doing all that talking and no eating! i'm starting to lose hope.”

౨ৎ

"matt, where the fuck are we?" you raise yourself up a little to look around. you’re parked in a large city center parking lot with few cars and dimming street lights.

“shhh, sit down.” he absentmindedly calms you, speaking in a low voice while typing on his phone. you lean back into your seat, bored enough that you opt to watching your hands rise and fall with your stomach as you breathe.

he continues tapping at the screen for the entirety of the next song, making you grow impatient and confused. is he expecting you to make the first move right now? did he bring you here to have sex? who the fuck is he texting?

you move yourself closer to him so that your elbows rest against the center console and hold your head up. "matt," you whisper.

he doesn't answer but you notice his eyebrows are furrowed and angled.

"matt," you repeat and guide your hand up his arm, firmly squeezing his shoulder.

"mm?" he looks over to you for a second, then out the windshield before his eyes fixate on his phone once more.

"what'd you bring me here for...?" your voice is laced with intentional seduction as your hand moves back down his arm to play with the slim silver bracelet hanging on the wrist of his occupied hand.

"y/n, hold on," somehow his voice is just as distracted as his eyes.

you pout, "can you, like, look at me?" you see him picking at the skin of his lip, only looking at you when your hair falls in front of his phone as you lean to press your lips to the hand you've been messing with.

he moves his hand to capture your bottom lip softly between his thumb and the side of his index finger, finally giving in with a small “yeah?”

before you get a word out a few taps hit matt’s window making both of you flinch and pull back. you’re so caught off guard and feel exposed in a way after having your face so close to matt’s lower half. you’re nervous as to why someone would randomly come to matt’s window, until matt willingly lowers it.

you move your head to the side to get a better view of the lanky man with deep caramel skin and arched dimples that pop when he speaks, “yooo, matt! what’s up?” they dap each other up through the open window.

“fucking finally,” matt sighs with a laugh.

he kisses his teeth, “look i got your shit right here. have some faith in me, brother.” he leans to grab a small bag from one of his cargo pant pockets as matt reaches for his sleek black wallet.

you try to keep yourself leveled and not ask a million questions about this whole predicament, but you’re feeling quite left out.

matt carelessly grabs the plastic bag from the guy while he continues to sift through his wallet with only one hand, before handing you the bag without even looking your way. once it’s in your hand you use the light of your phone to get a better look, noticing the unground weed in the bag. you scrunch your face and place it in your lap.

you don’t pick up on much of matt’s conversation until you’re brought up, “who’s your friend?” the guy leans further onto the car.

“no one you’d need to know,” matt shrugs, pulling out a few unscathed bills and handing them with a smile.

you squint your eyes at the insult to your existence he's implied calling you ‘no one,’ before reaching over matt with an extended hand, “hi, i’m y/n.”

he glances at matt, who’s shooting daggers into the side of your head with his eyes, then looks to you, “i’m lucas, nice to meet you.” his eyes and smile both very dopey.

“how’d you meet such a hush guy like matt?” you inquire and feel a smile forming as matt surprisingly allows you to continue this conversation.

“his brother nick does like all of my tattoos,” he pulls up his sleeve to show a collection of pieces in various styles. “next thing i know, i got three trusty customers!” he giggles and looks to matt who puts on an obvious fake smile. you turn your face to see him and feel yourself smile wider at his expense.

“yep…” matt replies.

you quickly turn back to lucas and look closer at his sleeve, “oh wow, nick is fucking talented.” matt fights from moving you back into your seat and driving off as fast as possible. “matt actually gave me one,” you lift yourself back into your seat, using matt’s thigh for support, and begin to move your shirt out of the way.

“hmm, right,” matt takes your shirt in his own hand to cover the spot once more, “we actually have somewhere to be like now.” he looks over to lucas and gives an impressively collected smile, “‘m sorry to cut it short, man. you know we gotta hang out soon.”

“for sure, i’ll have to text you," lucas nods, "and maybe i’ll see you around too, y/n. just stay pretty.” he points to you as he back away from the car. “get her home safe now, matthew.” he throws in the extra joke.

“uh huh, thanks for the smoke,” matt chuckles dryly and gives a bitter half-ass peace sign before rolling his window up. he looks over to you, with your legs sprawled in an awkward yet comfortable way and full smile on your flushed face, “fuck are you smilin’ about?”

“you brought me here for a fucking drug deal?!” you try to control the laugh in your throat.

“look you got your sandwich, i got my weed,”

“i don’t think those are com-” you mumble even though matt’s words never pause for you.

“we both were dragged somewhere, so it’s fair.” matt shrugs with pouted lips as he lifts the center console in search of the dope he’d just bought, “where’d you put it?” you then hold the bag up for him to see, but as he reaches for it you move back slightly. “you’re not funny, dude, give it.”

“come get it,” you look at the bag then over to matt’s unentertained face.

“y/n, that shit won’t work on me. we’re in my car and you don’t know the first thing about rolling.” he props his hand up expecting you to give up at this point. “stop playing.”

“why can’t you just play a little matt? you’re so worked up and mad most of the time,” your cheeks puff a little when you let out an annoyed breath.

“i wouldn’t say mad but,” matt’s eyes widen with the word in exaggeration but he knows you don’t actually want to debate over his mood so he recovers smoothly, moving his body to fully face you, “ alright, we can play, sweetheart.”

he leans closer, “how about about we play you give me my shit and then i’ll fuck you,” in reality the bag of weed is easily within snatching range, but the tension of coercing it out of you entertains matt more.

“that’s not a fun trade when you were gonna do that anyway,” the way your full lips move has matt itching to lay them against his own.

“no i wasn’t,” he whispers, and now that you’ve both now gravitated towards each other, practically at each other’s faces, you get a special view of his eyes and the way his cheeks pinch inward when he lies.

“really?”

he plays along, nodding while looking down in faux disappointment, though you can see him start to hide a giggle of some sort.

“damn. maybe i’ll have to take your phone next and get lucas to come back for me.” you sigh, and go to reach for his phone.

matt grabs your hand looks back to your devious face. “hell no, keep my friends off your roster.”

you purse your lips, “oh really? but you can do whatever you want with my-?” you’re cut off with a small kiss that grows as you reciprocate.

you’re too caught up in the proximity and heat to focus on matt’s hand that finds and takes the bag without fight. he pulls away (far too quickly) just to tease, “too easy.” he holds the bag up and stashes it in his side door. “and now you’ll have to wait until we get back to mine.”

౨ৎ

matt's beyond frustrated when he shows up to find his driveway lined with cars and general rowdiness that can be seen through the windows. you had some jokes at his expense to make as he drove off and away from his house to find the street you're currently parked on.

he's pretty silent until he eventually gets over himself due to his extreme horniness he's suppressed for longer than he expected when calling you. "well, 'm sorry my house is a bit occupied at the moment."

you face him, "no, it's fine." you unbuckle your seatbelt and move to hover over his face, placing a small kiss on his lips then pulling away, "right?"

matt raises his head to look at you, making you glance away from his eyes and down to his lips as you lick your own. and just as your tongue slips back into your mouth, matt is recapturing your lips in a needy kiss.

as the kiss deepens he takes a hold of the area where your head and neck split, holding any of your hair there with it. your tongue plays against his lips before he finally allows you to feel into his mouth a little.

you both kiss and play with each others' lips as he moves his hands to feel down your waist and tug on your waistband to urge you closer to him. you don’t listen though, instead greedily enjoying the slow movement of your lips.

matt pulls away at your disobedience and reclines his seat in one swift motion. you sigh to yourself at the loss of contact, still angled oddly over the center as you bite your bottom lip to mimic matt’s kiss.

he pats his lap and reaches for your arm, softly demanding, “c’mere.” with his physical encouragement you move your body to crawl onto him and settle easily in his lap. matt’s eyes never leave the place where your bodies meet as his hands squeeze at your hips and then your ass.

you lean down to kiss at his neck, causing your boobs to go into matt’s line of sight. he brings his hands up to give them a small squeeze before reaching into your tiny tank top to expose them fully.

you moan into his neck and lift yourself up to watch as matt swirls his tongue around your left nipple while caressing the right. “mmm,” you hum and encourage while your hands play with the hair at the nape of matt’s neck.

he lets go of one with a small pop, muttering “you’re so hot,” against the other. as your hips grind softly you can feel his dick, heavy and hard under you. he pauses his play, “you feel it, sweetheart, go ahead and do somethin’ about it.”

you moan softly and begin to grind against him. he continues to suck and fiddle with your nipples until they're sensitive and causing you to whine.

you then slowly adjust your tits back into place and crawl lower, watching your head of the wheel and watching your legs of the pedals. matt assumingly leans back and plays with the drawstring of his shorts while licking his lips, watching your every move. and finding it very fucking hot that you want to suck his dick so bad you’d sit on the rough, brushed carpet of his car.

you run your fingers up his thighs and beg with your eyes for matt to show himself to you. eventually, he purses his lips and begins to adjust his pants lower, relieving his member of anticipation.

you bite at your bottom lip subconsciously as you adjust yourself closer to him. matt keeps hold of the base, tapping himself against your closed mouth a few times, before you reveal your tongue to him. you run your mouth over him once before gathering your sticky saliva to spit softly on his tip. matt whines at the sensation and grows louder the second you take him fully into your mouth.

the way his eyebrows ruffle together and his mouth forms the most perfect ‘o’ shape is so breathtaking and drives you to continue working him in hopes that he only grows needier.

one of his hands finds the back of the headrest to grip while the other begins to move your hair for you into a harsh, makeshift ponytail. “mmm, fuck. keep goin’, baby.”

you allow all of him into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat before you pull off of him and begin to use your hand on his slick cock. “you like that?” you ask and you look so innocent and so genuinely intrigued at his answer that he can only answer in a groan. you kiss his tip in your own exchange of words with him without actually saying anything, then swirl your tongue around it as you bring him back into your wet mouth.

“yeah- just like that, mmm.” his voice is rough and strained a little as he guides your head continuously. your pace changes over the next few strokes, growing rapid and sloppier with time. matt's low moans and words of encouragement leave you feeling both desperate for his release and your own pleasure and fulfillment he'd give you afterwards.

without warning you, he takes hold of your head and forces himself fully in your mouth, unapologetically spilling his cum down your throat. once he's slumped and breathing heavily you pull off of him, a string of grotesque spit attaching you and his spent dick, and wipe your face with the back of your hand softly.

you force him to make room for you and sit up as you crawl back into his lap, the skin of your knees indented with the carpet's texture. "you're so fucking good," matt compliments in a daze while holding the bridge of his nose.

you kiss the corner of his open mouth and smirk, "too easy."

౨ৎ

"why does it keep biting me?!" chris yelps.

you and andrea never expected to own any kind of pet in recent years, due to both of your awkward schedules and mutual irresponsibility for your actions (finding it appropriate that you both learn to care for yourselves before an animal, no matter how tempting). but that was before you both found a tiny black kitten near a local bus stop that almost had you in tears.

you scooped him up easily and held him in your lap the entire drive home with andrea looking over and cooing at each red light she'd hit.

the entire day was spent googling, then bathing him, then googling if it was okay to use dish soap on a baby kitten, all while you both were clawed at and splashed the entire time.

but you and andrea have settled into cat motherhood well. recently you both went half on buying a cat tree (that is honestly way too big for your tiny living area) and decided to get your friends to help build it.

"he probably doesn't like you," nick suggests while twisting a screwdriver, legs sprawled on the floor.

"i'm sure he doesn't like anything with a name like figaro." chris deepens his voice when stating the cat's name and rolls his eyes.

"shut up, chris!" andrea calls from the kitchen.

"y/n, do you guys have any batteries?" erin asks as she opens the packaging of the cat toy she brought as a gift for figaro.

you smile at the ball of black fur at her side, clumsily punching the cardboard and plastic wrapping before nodding your head and placing your glass on the table, "yeah, which kind?"

"uh, triple a, three of them please."

you head to a closet down the hall to gather the batteries, fumbling with the top shelf a little. you don't hear when the bathroom door next to you opens and matt walks out, only recognizing when you hear his voice, "need some help?"

"no, thank you," you glance at him behind you and smile, giving a final stretch to reach the packaging. "see?" you show him the package in your hand proving he had no reason to even ask.

he smirks and stops you from closing the closet door just yet, "you look nice." you thank him and aren't surprised at what falls from his mouth next, "kinda need to paint with you soon."

"i'm sure you do," you almost laugh, due to both matt's undying horniness and the continued reference to painting.

he looks into your eyes carefully as he feels for your side and swipes his thumb over your tattoo. his mouth comes closer, right below your ear, "i'm not playin', i miss it." he leaves a kiss at the spot before he backs away and places his hands together in a prayer position, rocking them back and forth, mouthing "please."

the both of you almost laugh just before he turns to walk back to the group and remi calls for you to bring her a drink on your way back.

only when you're back in the living room your smile, matt once put on your face, drops as your eyes immediately catch erin and matt talking, her leg leaning far onto his as he reads the instructions and makes dry jokes about the toy she'd bought figaro.

you dont interrupt, placing the batteries near erin and taking a seat next to remi. you don't let your emotions manifest in your actions, even if you're starting to feel it a little extra when matt manages to remind you that you really are nothing but a nice fuck to him.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash @st7rnioioss @blondiesjailer @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @thinkingabkinkyshit101 @tcvazq @novasturniolo03

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo x black!reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader

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killergee · 9 months ago

Note

I hope you are familiar with How to train your dragon (race to the edge etc.).

I love that show! I also love Astrid Hofferson! She's amazing!! Ahem!

A Hoshina Soshiro x Astrid Hofferson reader would be so cool and interesting!! Plus a temper mental partner and a calm partner is so interesting for Hoshina Soshiro!!

Reader is a captain a strong one too her custom weapon is a battle axe viking style. Very aggressive in the battlefield and very strict.

But with Hoshina Soshiro she's as gentle as a flower.

IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG! School has been absolutely kicking my ass but I finally had time to work on this. Hehe, tyy for the request and I hope you enjoy :-)

Summary: After a long and hard battle, your division finds out that the Third Division Vice Captain is the only one who can tame their scary Captain.

---------------------------------------------------

"What a waste of a beautiful night," you drawled out as you looked up at the night sky. Taking a deep breath, you tried to ignore the wails of kaijus, the blaring of gunfire, and the ache in your body as you got up from the rubble around you.

While the smaller kaijus were easy to eliminate, the main problem was the daikaiju that now stood in front of you.

Created by the dead bodies of kaijus morphing together, your soldiers were being compromised one by one. What it lacked for in size, it made up for it in speed and intelligence. Before your soldiers could even aim, their guns were being flung across the field, their chest carved open by its sharp claws.

You watched as it slowly stood to its full height. If you had to guess, it appeared to be weary of you. Choosing to analyze you from afar, it didn't indicate any signs of wanting to approach you.

Though that didn't stop it from flinging you like a ragdoll less than a second ago, you wanted to scoff. You pressed your hand to your com and ordered your soldiers to fall back. "Create a 700 meter parameter around the target. Do not engage unless ordered."

Brandishing your battle axe at the daikaiju, you prepared to engage in battle. "When I say fire, fire everything you've got at that bastard. Do not hesitate and do not back down." You instructed, never taking your eyes off the target. "I'll create an opening."

The nervous voice of your Vice-Captain cracked through the coms. "Captain, please, let's retreat and wait until the third division arrives for support. Don't sacrifice yourself for us."

"Sacrifice? Who do you think you're talking to?" You laughed, your mouth curling into a dangerous smirk. "This one's all mine. I'm going for the win!"

You rushed in, matching its speed and ferocity. Its claws met your axe at every swipe and jab. Unable to keep up with the fight, you looked like a blur to your soldiers. The only way they knew where you were was by the sound that reverberated from your axe hitting the tough skin of the kaiju.

Whenever there was a moment the kaiju faltered, bullets would rain down on it. Before it could fully recover and track the source of the gunfires, you'd press it once more. The constant attacks slowly chipped away its armour-like skin and you were ready to land the final blow the moment it got distracted.

This sort of attack was only made possible because of the coordination you instilled into your soldiers. Your base was known for being the most disciplined, organized, and efficient base in the country. The caliber needed to join your division was higher than all others, and you were infamously the most bold and strict captain in the entire defence force.

With your axe embedded in the kaiju's upper abdomen, you yelled out to your soldiers once more.

But instead of bullets, you were only met with the hesitant voice of your vice captain. "But, Captain, you're in the way-"

"NOW!" You growled.

"Yes, Captain!"

You couldn't dodge all the bullets, but neither could the kaiju trapped in its place. The chance of breaking its armour was too good to miss—even if it meant you were caught in the crossfire. Weakened and disoriented, it couldn't stop your next swing that sliced it in half. It's core, now unguarded, stood no chance to your mighty axe.

With blood rushing to your head, you desperately took deep and heavy breaths. The cold air that stung your skin contrasted the searing heat of your suit, but all you could feel was the familiar satistifaction of victory settle into your bones. You didn't need to turn your head to know the kaiju laid dead below you. No, the cheers of your soldiers told you as much.

As they rushed to crowd around you, their joy was short-lived as your sharp glare stopped them in their tracks. Shivers crept up their spines, and they straightened their backs, saluting their terrifying Captain.

"Defying orders, hesitating, reacting slow to commands, where do I even begin," you began gruffly, disappointment—and what they think is irritation—dripping from your voice.

Sighing, you were about to continue until a voice interrupted you.

"Hey there, gorgeous, how 'bout you come let me check your wounds first before you go and reprimand your soldiers."

"Soshiro."

Huh? What was that soft sound? Did that come from the Captain? There's no way the Captain can sound that soft. Surely, they were just exhausted from the battle and were hallucinating.

"Come now," the Vice Captain of the third division said in a coaxing manner, "don't make me carry you."

A small chuckle left your mouth, and now their jaws were definitely on the floor. They don't think they've ever even seen you smile, let alone chuckle so fondly.

"Alright... I'll save the lecture for tomorrow." You say with the shake of your head, giving him a tired smile. A smile that dissappeared the moment you turned to address them. "However, know that next time, I will not tolerate any hesitation."

"Yes, Captain!" They saluted, feeling a bit relieved but also unnerved at how nice you were being.

"What your beloved captain meant to say was to have a lil' more faith in her, will ya? Trust in her orders and decisions." Hoshina said with a laugh as he placed your arm over his shoulder and helped you walk towards the medics.

Their eyes were definitely bulging out too, more so that you were being so docile.

You were the very definition of strong. The way you fought, the way you held yourself, hell, even the way walked. They revered you but also couldn't help but be scared of you.

Snapping out of their shock, they tried to turn to their vice captain for answers, but he only looked away, feigning ignorance.

They just had to get to the bottom of this. Even if it meant they'll be spending the rest of their lives running laps.

Sneaking towards the medics, they nearly toppled over each other at the scene before them.

Despite how your wounds must sting, you looked like puddy in his hands while he was cleaning them. Seated infront of him, you were leaning your face into his palm that cupped your cheek, your hand over his.

The hands that were once gripping your axe so strongly were now so softly reaching up to caress the face of the third division vice captain.

"Soshiro," Your voice was even softer, "I'm alright, please don't look at me like that."

They could see his shoulders shake, even from this distance. "You scared me out there," he replied, dropping the swabs and placing his hands on either side of you.

"I'm sorry, dear," you whispered, softly brushing away the hair that covered his eyes. "You know I'll always fight my hardest to come back to you." Bringing his head to rest on your shoulder, you softly ran your fingers through his hair.

"You could've waited a couple of minutes for me, you know?" He said in an almost teasing manner, his shoulders finally slumping, his arms wrapping around you securely.

You laughed as you could feel his pout on your shoulder. "But where's the fun in that?"

"Awww, they're so cuteeee. Wait, guys- stop pushing, AHH-"

...

"Oh no."

Piled on top of each other and out in the open, they all winced in anticipation of what their captain would do to them. At the sound of laughter, they snapped their heads up to see the Vice Captain shaking and their Captain blushing immensely.

"You're all dead-" you flushed as you quickly tried to detangle yourself from Hoshina.

Feeling not even a smidge embarrassed, Hoshina only teased you, unbothered by your attempts to create distance. "Awwww, c'mon, darling. They're just having a bit of fun."

He turned to face the rag tag bunch with a smile. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the big scary Captain doesn't do anything to ya. So go get yourselves patched up and head home, yeah?"

Despite his reassuring words, they only looked towards their Captain for orders. Staring at you with pleading eyes, you let out a tired sigh and nod your head.

Smiling wide, they were so close to crying tears of joy. Oh, for their Captain to be like this forever....

Looking at each other, they knew what they had to do.

"Vice Captain Hoshina please transfer to our division!"

#kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no.8 fanfic #kaijuu 8 gou #soshiro hoshina #y/n #self insert

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timeslipcamp · 2 months ago

Text

me?? look up flower symbolism for a mobile game??? it's more likely than you think!!

spoilers through ep 15

🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸

first of all trying to find all these was insane SECOND of all tumblr only lets me add 10 pictures per post on mobile so this WILL get split up into multiple posts. thats on me for always writing these at work lol

a couple of the flowers as well i'm doing my best guess. either the shape or the color is slightly off (it's artwork and flowers) so i've been finding what i think is closest. additionally, i do prefer to be as educational and historically accurate as possible in the references i'm finding, but flower languages are something that tended to vary across culture, time period, and region. oftentimes the major messages and themes carried over, but the interpretation wasn't always the same. i did my best to cross reference at least a couple sources for each one and i'll be going with the main meaning i find for each.

do i think all of these are intentional? probably not, but it's fun anyways.

if anyone has any questions or other interpretations, please send them my way!

flower meanings for the ghouls

first up we've got the most recent one that came out in subaru's super cool fit from episode 15. like i said in my time loop theory post, i do believe this is actually technically a red surprise lily, not a spider lily. however, the two are considered sister flowers, and i put them side by side below so you can see.

as far as i can tell, both of them have the same meaning, and are often used interchangably when describing the flowers. just about every place cites the japanese meaning: they both bloom in autumn, around the same time as both the autumnal equinox and a period called ohigan. during ohigan, it's an important time to visit graves and pay respects to ancestors. spider lillies are poisonous, and in ancient times, were planted over fresh corpses to keep animals from digging them up. ever since then, they've become one of the most easily recognized and symbolic flowers with several meanings and names.

the most common meanings are death, reincarnation, the after life, and its two names, "the death flower" and "the corpse flower". hotarubi has dealt with ghosts and the restless dead in both episodes they've featured in, not to mention episode 15 took place in a haunted house where we were pretending to be ghosts. i think this one is pretty simple.

helloooooooo beautiful sunny haru! we've got quite a few flowers here. i've got sunflowers, daisies, orange roses, thistle, pansies in the background there, anemone, and then i think that's supposed to be baby's breath but the clumping and petal shape look almost like butterfly bush. could be sweet alyssum as well. idk i just work here

sunflowers - did you know sunflowers were originally cultivated as a food source? there's your fun fact for the day! these flowers also vary in meaning across different cultures but all of them have a positive connotation. sunflowers stand for hope, happiness, and also good luck!

daisy - is that a daisy. the petals are fat and now i'm second guessing myself. oh apparently theres one called a wide petal daisy lmao anyways! if it is a daisy, once again a very positive flower, most meanings list innocence and new beginnings. victorian flower language says a daisy means a secret is safe with you. interesting :)

orange roses - theres always 900 interpretations of roses smh. from what i've gathered, outside of a relationship they mean fascination, perseverance, and admiration. new beginnings make an appearance again. inside a relationship it typically means passion and energy, along with enthusiasm. all things that are very haru

thistle - cute lil tucked away in his pocket. this one's pretty interesting because the meanings amost flip depending on where you're from. thistle represents adaptation, pride, and resilience, but in victorian flower language specifically, it represented pain and intrusion. honestly, i think both fit.

anemone - three out of four of his flowers have greek myths associated with them. what the hell, man. anyways. this one changes wildly depending on the culture. one has them listed as anticipation, one as tragic love, and apparently, this one is also a flower of the dead OR it will protect you from evil. if i had to guess, i think the anticipation one fits most, because it has it listed here that you give them during major life changes.

pansies - this one kind of went back and forth and i didn't feel confident in any of the sources, but the most common one i found was that they're to give to someone to let them know that you're thinking of them. interesting that these are placed in the background.

baby's breath - still not 100% that's what this is. whatever. baby's breath is another one that symbolizes purity and innocence. if anything, i think these ones symbolizing innocence just kind of apply to haru's optimism--he has such a pure view of wanting to help anomalies and humans live together. it's so sweet.

overall, i'd say the main theme of harry's flowers are optimistic, purity, life changes, energy, and resilience. love the way daisy applies to him.

i wasn't going to include this one but this picture is pissing me the fuck off and i think it's because this isn't a real flower. i've been googling for 45 minutes because clearly that's a yellow rose, right? wrong roses dont grow in on woody leafless stems like that. you know what does? kerria! you know what kerria is often confused with? japanese rose bushes! i think someone fucked up and pissed off a very specific subset of nerd (aka me and like, one other person)

hoping i'm wrong. someone PLEASE tell me what this is if you figure it out

anyways

yellow rose - literally so different depending on the region and even the time. in modern americas/england, they're for friendship, but in victorian flower language, it was infidelity. in latin america they represent deep, passionate love, but in china and modern japanese culture, it's for wealth, prosperity and life changes. in historical japan, they represented the imperial family.

so literally who knows pick your fav this one doesn't count.

the man the myth the legend!! love this dude

we've got purple roses (and some blue and yellow but that might be for aesthetic reasons), yellow iris, i think that's supposed to be a purple dahlia in his pocket? but the size is off, perhaps more thistle? whatever. a couple white calla lillies, a couple lil yellow and greenery that's also filler, and i think white delphinium.

yellow roses and thistle meanings listed above

purple roses - this one was funny. the synonyms kinda changed depending on the source but for the most part they represent love at first sight, enchantment, and mystery. one website said they meant "a love that is unattainable." :')

blue roses - less info available, but also mystery and the unattainable.

yellow iris - across the board, they represent passion, but it does also look like it can mean both platonically and romantically. one super obscure website also said it's a gender non conforming flower. nonbinary zenji lives

purple dahlia - several sources cited this one as meaning dignity, grace, kindness, and a couple others also had creativity in their lists. there were also some that had mystery! a very zenji flower, even if i'm incorrect about this one lmao

white calla lily - another innocence and purity one. however, they've also come to be associated with death and rebirth with their use in easter celebrations. iiiiinteresting

white delphinium - i've spelled that name wrong like six times so far if you see a typo no you didn't. this one seemed to have a different meaning on every place i looked, but there were a couple common threads: levity, protection, innocence, and remembrance. zenji's card bouta make me cry.

if we're looking at the placements at all, i love that he's handing you the enchantment and love at first sight flower. ugh zenji you deserve the world

followed IMMEDIATELY by his brother lmao. these two drive me INSANE dude i am always thinking about their relationship

in the back bouquet that he's holding we've got some pink and peach roses (and one hidden red one???), a couple random ones i can't made out, and in the foreground a BUNCH of

hey wait hold on

its called WHAT???

huh?????????

zenji hello???????

okay anyways back to jiro

up in the forefront he's got a bunch of dame's rocket, i guess? also called sweet rocket and eve weed, it's the closest i could find. yet another flower that has a greek tale associated with it, which i think the greeks just made up stories about every flower smh but it's named after hesperus (the morning star).

apparently it's only real symbolism meaning is deceit, which is wild given how much of this flower is on this card. also, jiro doesn't remember parts of last year. guess he could be lying!!!

pink roses - admiration and love, but a few sources did make a point to say the pink is a more gentle and understated love. very jiro. also love that there's a single red rose poking out there

peach roses - sincerity and gratitude.....ok. ok hold on. tin hat donned. jiro is holding flowers that mean sincerity but there are a ton of deceit flowers behind him. he's trying to be sincere but something is holding him back? who's to say

anyways that's all the pictures that tumblr will let me add on mobile so this is part one done, onto part two!

dms and asks always open 🌻

#flower meanings #tkdb #tokyo debunker #tdb #theories #this one got away from me #but hey whats a theory blog without some reaching

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a-simple-imagine · 10 months ago

Text

Too Cute to be Angry

Synopsis: A night spent talking to politicians and alt right superheroes is enough to drive anyone crazy but it's sister sage that puts you over the edge

Pairing: Victoria Neuman x fem!supe!reader (feline shifter)

Words: 3k+

A/N - self ingulgent little cat girl fic with my favourite supe written entirely for myself :)

WARNINGS - swearing, brief mention of murder and homophobia

Victoria Neuman was the busiest woman you know. if she wasn't spending her days in meetings or on Zoom calls, she was attending interviews or making speeches. she was a very driven woman. had big goals. ones you could hardly even fathom but not from lack of trying. you wanted to be part of her world but at the same time, it was so difficult to comprehend. it's not as simple as black and white. the people she surrounded herself with weren't always the best and for the most part, it's clear she tries to keep you out of it. possibly some misguided attempt to protect you.

it was a rare afternoon that was cleared just for you. nobody else around. no work calls or meetings. just the two of you sharing a quiet moment. laying on the couch with your head in her lap.A delicate hand scratches behind the feline ears that live upon your head. it feels good; and calming.a sluggish but continuous rhythm that was drawing you to drowsiness. She wouldn't mind. it wouldn't be the first time nor the last that you fell asleep on her.

"babe,"

"yeah?"

"how would you feel about going out tonight?" the answer was no. it was always going to be no. you were too content with a quiet evening to suddenly have plans thrust upon you.

"Where?" you question anyway and her hand slows.

"Tek knights." a mumbled answer that your ears pick up loud and clear. she couldn't be serious right now. there is absolutely zero reason why she would be going to see Tek Knight for anything but business and she already promised you no business tonight. it was just gonna be the two of you.

"Are you... serious?"

"some fancy party."

"no," replied snappily. "dude is creepy."

"When have you ever met tek knight?"

"once actually," you state, moving yourself up to look at her. "and he was fucking weird- asked inappropriate questions about my tail." you swish your tail, gently grazing it against her cheek.

"Well, you can just avoid him all night," Victoria insists, shoving your tail away. "I'd really like you to come."

"no thank you, can you go back to scratching behind my ears now." you lay back down.

"no,"

a heavy sigh. "Victoria," whined softly, as you nuzzled into her lap. you're tempted to gently bite her thigh but you don't. that would not help your case right now. "please?"

"if you agree to come I'll give you all the ear scratches you want."

"that's not fair."

"I need a buffer for when I can't take it anymore and that's you," she gives your side a firm pat. "I got you something pretty to wear."

"how pretty," mumbled against her legs.

"very," that meant expensive. you groan, stretching your arms and legs before sitting up. she raises a curious brow that makes you roll your eyes. She wasn't going to let this go.

"fine but you owe me," she places her hand on your head, ruffling your hair, making sure to get behind the ears. you naturally lean into her touch. this was gonna be a very long night.

Tek Knight lives in a mansion. like an actual massive mansion that's old and creepy but also kind of cool. gothic in nature and not an ounce of homeliness to its name. Victoria annoyingly leaves you alone pretty quickly and you're forced to find your own source of amusement. music plays as background noise and there really isn't anything to do here other than touch ornaments or talk with Republicans. She didn't tell you this was gonna be a party filled with right-wing nuts but here you are anyway. conversing with old white men about reproductive rights and how gay people are fine but need to stop shoving their lifestyle down Americans' throats. you observe the party from the corner of the room. helping yourself to the hors d'oeuvres as trays rush by. It's always a wonder why they don't just have actual food at these events or at least something a little less fancy. something actually tasty.

"you're Neuman's girl, right?" it's not inherently wrong so you allow the nickname especially when you realise who it comes from. she has never tried to hide your relationship but she hardly advertised it either. can't scare off the voters or whatever. you don't mind. you're not exactly in a rush to be hounded by the general public. Homelander stands beside you; strong and tall in his red, white and blue super suit. You've never been next to such a powerful supe before excluding Neuman. he was intimidating in real life.

"homelander," you declare obviously. you're not sure what else to say here. Victoria speaks about him a lot. he's also in the news all the time. you very recently watched him on TV. "I saw your trial," blurted out before you thought of the consequences. he probably didn't like to talk about him murdering a man.

"so you saw that I was found innocent,"

you nod a little. he'd been found not guilty despite the overwhelming evidence which was kind of insane but also expected. "Vicky says you should have been locked up," you agreed.

"and what do you think?" he turns his whole body towards you and you do the same. such intense eyes it's almost like he's looking right through you. you may be a supe but you were hardly on his level. Victoria says he's kinda unstable these days and anything can set him off so you try to think of something safe to say.

"I think... your eyes are really fucking blue- no wonder fascists love you," he smiles. you don't know if it's amusement or menacing but surely he understands you're joking. and if not, he likely won't attack at this fancy little party.

"calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."

"What makes you think I'm worried." he wasn't a mind reader that you knew for sure.

"your heartbeat," he replies. "but mostly the ears," the blonde points to the cat ears on the top of your head. "anyone else would call it cute," and with that, he walks away. he was a... confusing man. even from that short interaction, you can tell he can be elusive. alone once more you decide to go in search of a drink but it isn't long before Victoria is at your side.

"hi baby," you're happy to see her. you hope it means you can go home soon.

"hey,"

"What did he want?"

"Who? homelander?" why did she care? "just chatting about his trial and how cute I am."

"how cute you are?" she repeats back slowly.

"Hmm it's no surprise- everyone is obsessed with me so."

"you are adorable,"

a very bright exaggerated smile, showing your canines before your face immediately falls. "can we go yet?"

"you promised you'd hold out a couple of hours," and it was starting to feel like a lifetime.

"and I have," you groan dramatically.

"It's barely been an hour,"

"y'know, I literally got told women have too many rights," you reply. "too. many. rights- what does that even mean?"

Victoria sighs softly. "I know they can be... opinionated but just suck it up for me okay? it'll be over before you know it,"

"I wanna go now,"

"I know," she runs a gentle hand along your back. "but this is important."

"why is it so important?"

"I- I can't tell you that right now," Victoria replies. She never told you anything. it was always just important calls or important meetings or important parties. it made you want to roll your eyes. "just please behave for me," you put on a pout. "and I'll take you to the nice restaurant with the fancy cakes you love,"

"Really?" said cautiously. when in doubt she'll bribe you. not because she doubts you'll do it for free but rather as an insurance policy. better safe than sorry.

"Always so easy," she chuckles. "you gotta work on keeping your ears in check. perked right up when I said that,"

you frown a little, reaching up to cover your ears with your hands. "stupid ears."

"It's cute," she hums softly, a kiss placed against your temple.

"I hate you," said sharply.

"Just... mingle or something." Victoria pats your shoulder before leaving you alone again. you follow her with your eyes as she walks up to some old man. you decide to go for a walk and find that drink you were after.

"you arrived with Neuman," stated matter of factly. sister sage walks up from behind you. you cover your mouth as you finish the little pastry you stole off a tray.

"Sister Sage," mumbled through a mouthful before you swallowed. "newest member of the seven- I heard you're like the smartest woman ever."

"smartest person," she corrected.

"smartest person," you repeat. "what's someone so smart doing in a place like this?"

"we're surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the United States of America right now," Sage explains. you know on some level that should mean something to you but you hardly feel excited or proud. quite the opposite. you were in a room with some of the worst people in the United States of America. Almost all of them are against the very things you are.

"but not the nicest," you grab a champagne flute as it passes by, taking a long-needed sip of bubbly liquid.

"nice only gets you so far," she continues. "you're probably the nicest person here but also the least important."

wow. okay. rude. "I wouldn't call myself the least important."

"I would," she replies. "even the waiters are of more value right now. you're just Neuman's basically pet, cute but useless."

you're not sure what to say to that. is that why Victoria never shared anything with you? didn't think you were important? just a pet to be paraded about like some cute little mascot in her parade for power? "I'm not her pet."

"how do your ears and tail work? they're biological right?" the question catches you a little off guard. such a change.

"uhhhh shouldn't the smartest person alive be able to figure that out?"

"you're a shifter but only into a feline," her eyes trail over you like this was some sort of interview or examination. "do you keep the ears for aesthetic purposes? surely, you can get rid of the cat ears and tail."

"you'd think," you shrug. "but no, I'm cursed to be every nerdy incels wet fantasy." the cat ears and tail were considered cute by many, disgusting by others and a fetish by too many. for a long time, vought used you in a lot of advertisements and commercials until you quit. you still occasionally do some ads and stuff for extra cash. Not often do people see a real-life cat girl. a hand snakes across your back and you instinctively jerk away before realising it's Victoria. "hey,"

"Can we talk?" she wears the fakest smile ever.

"hmm," sage hums. you quirk your brow.

"What?"

"Nothing," she insists. "you have the exact dynamic I would expect. don't mind me." you'd ask what she meant but she is already walking away and Victoria is leading you in the opposite direction.

"what's up?" you wonder.

"I don't want you talking to sister sage."

"why?".

"Can you listen to me for once?"

"for once?" all you do is listen to her. this whole night was for her. "I'm here listening to old men tell me I deserve to go to hell for you. this is worse than that political banquet where that man followed me around the whole night and kept trying to pet me." you huff.

"you don't think I haven't thought about popping my own head every time one of these rich idiots tries to talk to me about reproductive health?" her voice is quiet but stern. she's trying not to cause a scene. "but I put up with it so just suck up. it's important."

"oh really? never would have guessed." you roll your eyes. "I'll just go sit in the corner and stare at the wall since I'm not important enough."

"That's not what I said,"

"no I get it, don't worry," you force a smile and brush past her. "I'll be a good kitty."

it's a quiet ride home. silent even. staring out the window as bright lights zoom past. you can hear Victoria chatting on the phone. much too busy to take note of your angry brow or vacant stare. you're angry at her. Sage's words weren't helping either. playing over and over in your mind. cute but useless. you couldn't necessarily disagree. Even Vought just wanted you because of how you looked. sure you had enhanced strength and senses but that was only compared to humans. there were plenty of much stronger supes. there were even more useful shifters. you just became a cat. agile. sneaky. but ultimately just a common house pet.

"Are you gonna pout all night?" Victoria eventually asks as you pull up outside her home. it pissed you off more.

"I'm sorry, I thought I wasn't allowed to speak." replies sharply as you exit the vehicle; a quick slam of the door. you hear her get out the other side and follow behind.

"I didn't say you couldn't speak,"

"semantics," you huff back. maybe she didn't say you couldn't talk but she did try to control every conversation. who you could and couldn't speak to. always checking in to make sure you weren't saying the wrong thing. "I don't feel like talking."

"We need to."

you just ignore her. That was much better than an argument right now. all you wanted was a hot shower and to go to bed. As soon as you get inside, you march upstairs. She doesn't follow, instead heading towards the kitchen.

the hot water was a welcomed distraction from your otherwise terrible evening. it was supposed to just be about you too and she just couldn't help but make it all about herself. propping herself up to important people. sneaking off for private meetings that you weren't allowed to attend. you go to bed alone. she was probably downstairs working like always. you don't know how long it is before she joins you.

"you have to talk to me eventually," Victoria hums. "can't sulk in your other form forever."

whenever you fought you liked to shift. being a cat was simpler. nobody had any expectations for cats. it was like the perfect excuse to not have difficult conversations. She couldn't understand you after all but you could understand her. loud and clear. "just tell me what's wrong."

you stretch out. fluffy kitty paws morph into human hands and legs sprawled out in the darkness. you sigh softly following on to your back. Victoria is sitting on the edge, looking down at you. "I'm not your pet," growled quietly.

"I never said you were,"

"that's all anyone sees me as," you reply. "Neuman's girl. neuman's pet. cute but useless/ that's what sage said."

"that is why I didn't want you talking to her," she replies.

"but she's right," you express. "you don't treat me like we're equals. you hide stuff from me. tell me it's too important and I won't understand. I'm not a fucking child or your silly little house cat, Victoria."

"Baby," a gentle hand moves to your arm but you shake her off. Moving onto your side and away from her.

"don't."

"Okay," she retracts her hands slowly. there's a moment of silence before she continues. "I don't see you as a child or some silly cat."

"Sure you do,"

"I don't," she insists. "I'm a politician there are some things I just can't share with you-"

"but you don't tell me anything," you interrupt

"but I admit I could share with you more," she proceeds with. "I just... I try to keep you out of all that bullshit. not because I think you're stupid or useless but because it's just easier. I don't want them tearing you down to get to me,"

"But I'm willing to take it,"

"you shouldn't have to. I don't want that for you- for us." she urges. "Sage can say whatever she wants but I don't believe those things about you. You're smart, beautiful and adorable sure but you're not useless. I'm so lucky to have someone as caring and wonderful as you."

"gross," said playfully after a moment. a small smile tugs at your lips though. "Victoria?"

"mhmm?"

"I'm sorry for acting like a spoilt brat tonight,"

"I'm sorry I made you spend an evening with all those awful people," you chuckle lightly as you roll over to look at her. they really were awful people. and maybe you weren't one of the most important people in America but you were a good person. a nice person. and that was much more interesting.

"World's worst and most boring party," you voice. "how did your private meeting go?"

she hesitates. probably a debate on whether to tell you or not. "...pretty well I think."

"Vice President Neuman has a nice ring to it," you tease. smiling up at her in the darkness. a strip of moonlight crosses her face. twinkling in her pretty eyes. it was a wild thought. one day soon you could be dating the vice president of America.

"how do you feel knowing you'll be the second lady?"

"oooh so official. so important."

"you're already so important,"

"to you maybe." you huff.

"does anyone else matter?"

"you of all people saying that is crazy," you semi-tease. it was kinda true. she cared a lot about her image. about how the world saw her. "let's just go to sleep."

Victoria doesn't answer but she does lie down, shuffling up behind you. there's a slight hesitation like she's not sure if you've truly forgiven her. you move closer to her, resting your head against her chest. listening to the way her heart thumped in her chest "night."

"good night," you hum softly as you let your eyes flutter closed. "I'm gonna get so many fancy cakes tomorrow."

#victoria neuman #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman x you #the boys #claudia doumit

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atlabeth · 4 months ago

Text

shades of cool

pairing: javier peña x fem reader

summary: you come to javier in a last ditch effort to save your life after it all falls apart around you.

a/n: me when im addicted to angst... im sorry i cant stop hurting my r characters. anyways im watching narcos w my roomies and we all cannot stop thirsting over pedro so i had to write something. please do not ask for a sequel because i will not be able to control myself and i already have too much stuff on my plate!!! if i do write another part it will take forever so pls understand that i just wanted to write something short for javi and apparently i cant do that without adding backstory lmao

also! r is colombian but writing this whole fic in my shitty high school spanish would actually be a crime so just know they're speaking in spanish the whole time. thank you for your consideration

wc: 3.3k

warning(s): typical narcos stuff. angst, r's brother is dead and she's passively suicidal, javi is an asshole half the time and a sweetheart the other half so some hurt/comfort

Javier Peña was not having a good day.

He slept like shit. His coffee tasted like shit. He’d run out of his favorite cigarettes. Some idiot bureaucrat broke his coffee mug in the office. And worst of all, it was like he and Steve had hit a wall in their chase.

Every lead they went out into the field following turned out to be nothing but bullshit, and if they actually managed to get good intel, they showed up to nothing—one of Escobar’s thousand informants always tipped him off one way or another.

Noonan was on their ass about their methods, and Carillo’s methods were giving Murphy morally cold feet, and Murphy’s wife wouldn’t stop pestering Javier about making sure he kept his partner alive.

Javier wasn’t heartless, and he wasn’t a fucking idiot. Steve might’ve annoyed him, but they were partners. He wasn’t going to leave him out in the dirt, no matter how much he might’ve wanted to.

But it had been a very long, very disastrous thirteen hour work day, and all Javier wanted to do was sit down, tend to his budding alcoholism, and smoke a few cigs. But of course, in all the chaos of the day, he’d forgotten that he was out, so he had to stand up, put the glass down, and go to the corner store. At least it was a Friday night—he could always sweet talk the cashier that worked Friday nights into giving him a discount.

He ended up getting more than a discount—she gave him three packs for the price of one, and all it took was a smile and some compliments. At least some parts of the world still worked in his favor.

Javier was in a better mood on his way back. It wasn’t much considering how shit his day had been, but he tried to ignore it as he opened his new pack. He took out a cigarette and tucked the rest into his pocket. He was about to light it when a voice spoke up from behind him.

“Are you Javier Peña?”

He had half a mind to pull his gun out on the spot. Usually people asking about him by name on the street wasn’t a good thing, especially in Spanish.

But he didn’t. He stopped in his tracks and turned, immediately locking eyes with the source. He wasn’t expecting someone like you, standing stiff with crossed arms and hardened eyes. He wasn’t expecting a woman at all—especially one that didn’t look interested in him. He’d been propositioned enough on these streets to know you weren’t a working girl.

Javier glanced away to light his cigarette and blew out the smoke before he finally looked back at you.

“Who’s asking?”

You didn’t shift beneath his gaze. “Someone that needs your help.”

He looked you up and down. You weren’t dressed in any particular way, just a linen shirt and too-long cargo pants fringed with dirt. Definitely not a working girl, and you weren’t exactly rolling in it either.

“I don’t run a charity,” he responded.

“I’m not asking for charity,” you said sharply. “But we can’t talk here.”

Javier raised an eyebrow.

“You’re DEA,” you said. “You know better than anyone that the walls have ears.”

“You’ve got information?”

“I’ve got a gold mine,” you said.

Javier stared at you for a good, long moment, almost hoping he could read your mind if he looked at you for long enough. You didn’t waver, didn’t look away—just met his gaze with those sharp eyes of yours.

He normally wasn’t this desperate. But right now, they needed any intel they could get—especially if it could get them through back doors.

Eventually, he cursed under his breath and shook his head. “Fine. Follow me.”

He turned and started walking, and he could see you following him in the reflection off a storefront’s windows. You caught up to him relatively quickly, and he passed another glance at you.

“If you’re fucking with me—”

“You think I’m stupid enough to fuck with the DEA?” you interrupted.

“I never know with girls like you,” he said.

You scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Girls that track me down on the street and try to become informants,” Javier said.

He saw your jaw clench in his peripherals. “Well, I’ve got a pretty good reason to hate Escobar.”

Javier hummed and blew out another cloud of smoke. The nicotine had to ease some of the sharper edges in his mind. Was probably why he felt more agreeable to what many would consider a bad idea.

The two of you continued the rest of the way in silence, though Javier noticed how you kept your head on a swivel. Eyes constantly darting around, focusing on shadowy areas like something was going to jump out at you, not going a minute without checking behind you.

Not only did you not have a sense of humor, you were jumpy and paranoid. Just what he wanted in a potential informant.

He suppressed a sigh. So much for a relaxing night.

You grit your teeth as Peña patted down your body. The warmth of his hands against your bare arms was a shock, especially when you could feel it through your shirt—part of you expected him to be cold to match the rest of his demeanor. “Is this really necessary?”

“Gotta make sure you’re not bugged,” Peña said. He moved to your sides, then your front and back. Your loose button-up didn’t give the opportunity to hide much, but he didn’t seem like the kind to take chances.

“Why would I be bugged?” you asked wryly.

“Because the head of a DEA agent goes for 500 grand,” he responded in equal fashion. His hands didn’t linger on your chest as he finished vetting your torso, at least, which seemed like a low bar to clear. “Besides— beautiful Paisa approaches me on the street, implies she has information on Pablo Escobar, I take her home? Sounds like the start of a bad joke that ends with me getting my head blown off.”

“Nothing about this is a joke,” you said.

“Well, I see people get their heads blown off every day,” he said as he crouched down, finishing up his inspection with your legs. “I try to keep the mood light when I can.”

Peña stood up after he got to the bottom of your left leg, seemingly satisfied, and gestured at his couch with his head. “Sit.”

“Are you finally done?” you asked mockingly. “Think I’m clean?”

“Don’t give me a reason to think you’re not.” He picked up a near empty glass from a side table and walked into the kitchen. “Now do us both a favor and sit down and shut up.”

You decided to meet him halfway as you took a seat on the sofa. “I never knew DEA agents were so mean.”

“I’m being pretty nice right now, all things considered.” You heard the clinking of glasses and liquid pouring from the kitchen, but you didn’t look up. You just stared at your hands, trying to suppress the rising dread in your chest.

A part of you didn’t really know what you were doing. Talking to a DEA agent was about the worst thing someone in your position could do. All it took was one bit of gossip in the wrong ear, one of your brother’s old friends to wonder what you were up to, and you were dead.

But the worst case scenario had already happened. As far as you were concerned, you had nothing left to lose.

You started at the sudden sound of Peña setting something down on the table. You glanced up to see a bottle of whiskey alongside two glasses—one filled with a finger of liquor, the other empty.

“You a whiskey girl?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “But I could use some right now.”

He chuckled and filled the other glass, then pushed it over to you and set the bottle down. Javier picked up his own glass and took a sip, then leaned back in his chair. He looked every bit the ruminating agent as he stared at you.

“So,” he said, “what the fuck has you asking me for help?”

“My brother worked for the Medellín Cartel,” you said.

Peña's eyebrows rose. You guessed he probably didn’t expect you to say that.

“He get fired?”

You picked up the glass and downed a third of it, grimacing at the taste. You really weren’t a whiskey girl, but you preferred to focus on the burn of the liquor rather than the memory. You scraped your nail against the glass once it faded.

“Killed.”

“About the same thing for Escobar,” he said. He leaned forward. “You work with him too?”

You shook your head. “I stayed as far away from all of it as I could. But all Marcelo saw was the money.”

You could practically see him file the name away in his brain for future use. It probably wouldn’t get him far.

“So your brother works for Escobar, takes a wrong turn, gets killed,” Peña said. “And you come to me because you think they’ll come after you?”

You shrugged. “Marcelo had his cartel friends over all the time. They know me, know my face—know that my brother told me shit they don’t want repeated.”

Peña tilted his head. “So you choose to rat them out rather than take his place.”

You scoffed. “They beat him black and blue before his best friend shot him in the head. They left him in the living room for me to find. I’m lucky I’m here talking to you, agent.”

“Well, what got dear Marcelo killed?” he asked.

You gave him a mirthless smile. “He made one mistake and it ended up being the biggest one of his life. They gave him a target to take out. He failed, loudly and obviously in El Poblado. Escobar snipped the loose end.”

Peña’s eyes widened. “Your brother was behind that botched assassination on Luciana Rodriguez?”

You nodded. “The only thing worse than killing a journalist is failing to kill a journalist—especially one that’s refused dirty money. The mess was all over the papers the next day, and she was giving interviews the whole week.” A chill fell over your skin as your hand tightened around the glass, and you had to glance away. “Marcelo was dead before he could even try to plead his case.”

“You truly have my sympathy,” Peña said. His eyes had softened, no longer looking like they were skeptical of every word you said. “Burying a sibling…” He shook his head. “It’s awful.”

You shrugged. “It’s how it always ends, isn’t it?”

“For those at the bottom of the ladder,” he said. “Why do you think Escobar gets everyone else to do his dirty work?”

You tipped your head in recognition as you took another sip of whiskey. Much better than the shitty liquor you were used to—despite the money Marcelo started raking in from his cartel jobs, the two of you never really grew out of the bottom shelf.

“I never actually got to bury him, though,” you said. “Soon as I found his body, I took what I could and ran. I wasn’t going to wait around for a bullet in my head too.”

“I’m surprised they weren’t there waiting for you,” Peña said.

You chuckled wryly. “Me too. But I’ve learned to count my blessings when I can get them—they don’t come around too often for people like me.”

A shaky sigh fell from your lips as you leaned back, taking a moment to compose yourself. You hardly knew Peña, yet you were telling him about some of the worst days of your life.

“I stayed at some shitty motel for the past few days trying to figure out what to do,” you said. “I remembered hearing your name around some of the circles—a DEA agent who seemed to have endless amounts of informants. I… I mostly got lucky finding you.”

“It’s very brave of you,” he said. “But why now? Why not in the middle of all this, when you had the most access to information?”

“I’m a selfish woman, Agent Peña.” Your gaze fell down to the amber liquid—it was easier than looking him in the eye. “I didn’t want my brother to get hurt, so I kept my distance and I kept my mouth shut.” You paused, shaking your head with a slight laugh. “No, actually. I told him a thousand times it was better to be poor and honest than rich with dirty money. But all we’ve ever known is poverty—Marcelo wanted more, and Escobar offered him a way out.”

Peña offered a thin smile. “How do you think he gathered so much popularity so quickly?”

“Believe me, I know.” You huffed as you sunk into the cushions. “I still remember that day he came home after Escobar announced he was running for Congress—400,000 pesos, just handed to him. How could he not fall further in?”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure you haven’t?”

“Some of the money I took from the house is probably dirty but…” you shook your head. “But Marcelo gave them everything he had, and they killed him for it. Nothing could make me work for those motherfuckers.”

“I do like a woman with principles,” Peña mused.

You huffed another mirthless laugh as you leaned forward, setting your glass on the edge of the table. “Can you help me or not?”

“You want me to ensure your safety in exchange for the information you have,” he said.

You nodded.

“Well, my protection is pretty valuable,” he said. “How valuable is your information?”

“Marcelo was a floater,” you said. “He did work for whoever under Pablo needed it. I’ve got names from Gacha, the Ochoas, even some of Escobar’s main men. And I know the names of some rats in the police department, even one in your precious DEA.”

Peña frowned. “Who?”

“Maya Alberts. Gringa secretary from Utah.”

By the look on his face, you gathered that you were right. “How do you know that?”

“Just because I didn’t get involved in all that shit doesn’t mean I didn’t listen,” you said. “His friends saw me as lesser than them—idiots talked around me all the time.”

“You have this in writing or anything?”

You tapped your temple. “It’s all up here. You give me a pen and paper, I can get them all down.”

He blew out a loose breath and shook his head. “You’re valuable.”

“I told you.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were this valuable,” he said. “I have to run all this by Murphy and the rest, but if your names match up, you actually are a gold mine.”

“And you better do everything you can to take them down,” you said.

“We have to be careful about all this,” Peña said. “If Gaviria or Gacha or— or god forbid Escobar figures out that you’re running your mouth, you’re going to be their top priority.”

“I don’t care,” you said honestly. “If my death is the price I have to pay to pave even one brick on the path to nailing Escobar, then I’m okay with that.”

Peña pursed his lips. “My informants aren’t usually so…”

“Suicidal?”

“Uncaring,” he decided. “The best informants are the ones that stay alive long enough to be informants.”

“I’ve lost everything, Agent Peña,” you said. “I want justice against the men that killed my brother. I don’t care what I have to do to get it.”

Again, he stared at you. You don’t know what he thought it would do for him—if he believed he could tell whether you were lying or not by looking in your eyes, if he was trying to memorize how you looked in case he had to turn you over, if he just liked looking at people. But eventually, he sighed.

“You’ve bared your soul and we’ve just met,” he said. “I think you can call me Javier.”

You nodded. “You’d better take these men down then, Javier.”

He smiled as he stood up. He actually had a pretty nice one.

“Like I said, I have to go over all of this with my partner—maybe get Carillo involved too.” He looked at you. “It might take some time while we verify it all, but don’t worry. I keep my informants safe.”

Your mind went back to the mangled body of your brother, sent as a message to Escobar’s people of what would happen if they crossed him. You could only think about how much he suffered in his final moments.

Bile creeped up your throat, but the memory still burned more. All he wanted was a better life for the two of you.

“All I care about is taking these bastards down.”

He shook his head. “You might not care about yourself, but I do. You’re staying the night here.”

You frowned. “I have—”

“You don’t have somewhere to stay,” Javier interrupted, taking the words out of your mouth. “You’ve got a shitty motel that’s probably already on the cartel’s radar. You go back there, you get a load of lead in your brain.”

“Still.” You glanced around. “There’s got to be a better place than here.”

Javier raised his eyebrows. “You don’t like my place?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you bit back. “It— it’s just your place. I don’t want to intrude.”

He actually laughed at that, a genuine sound you weren’t expecting. “You’ve got the Medellín Cartel on your ass and you’re worried about imposing?”

“Well—” your frown deepened— “when you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”

“Because it is.” He left you with that as you started to walk towards the hallway.

You figured you would be crashing on the couch—it was pretty comfortable. Most things in Javier’s apartment were cheap, but this seemed to be one thing he splurged on—him, or the DEA when they outfitted the place. The plush cushions had just enough give to support you, stark contrast to the stiff state your body seemed to always be in these days.

He came back holding a bundle of sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. He set it down on the chair he’d been sitting in and looked at you.

“Are you going to get up?”

“Those are for me, aren’t they?”

“‘Course not,” he said. “You’re sleeping in my room. I’m taking the couch.”

You scoffed. “You want to talk about imposing—”

“It’s for your own good,” Javier interrupted again. He seemed to like interrupting. “If someone tailed you here, or somehow figured out you’ve come to me, then they’re gonna break in through the front door or the window. I’d prefer to be the first line of defense in that case.”

“You can’t be serious,” you deadpanned.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Javier said bombastically. “You came to the DEA agent for protection, and now the DEA agent is protecting you? How in the world will you survive?”

You scowled at him, but you stood up anyways. You took the chance to polish off the rest of your glass—you didn’t grimace as hard this time, at least.

“Bathroom is on the left, kitchen’s right there.” Javier pointed his finger as he talked, which he then aimed at you. “Don’t move anything around. I’ll know.”

Deciding to bite your tongue, you nodded. Javier Peña was, after all, doing you a ginormous favor. You stopped right before you could reach the hallway and turned back to look at him, already at work stuffing sheets in the cracks of his couch.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “I— I appreciate all this. More than you know.”

Javier paused at your words, and when he turned around he had an uncharacteristically soft look on his face.

“...Course.” He nodded his acknowledgment. “Sleep tight.”

Your lips twitched in the slightest smile. “You too.”

As you walked down the hallway, you felt his gaze burning into you. You resisted the urge to look back.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #narcos x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena angst #sadie writes

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