#and the “Well you know what friendship is
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the fact that we know mark and petey had inside jokes and teased each other and had such an easy and fun relationship that made work worthwhile for both of them and petey noticed mark looking visibly worn down and upset every time he came to work and they made a joke out of THAT as well and petey saying "you carry the pain with you you just don't know what it is" and that + milchick saying "you guys were one of my favourite office friendships" + irving saying "don't be sad. I know you and petey were close, he was the only one who appreciated your humour" + mark telling helly he threatened to kill the voice that asked him questions when he woke up and when she asks what happened he said "that voice turned out to be called petey, and he became my best friend" + mark actively repressing and avoiding any mention of petey even though it's affecting him in such an obvious way. all of those being the only context we're given of their relationship but in petey's reintegration flashbacks we see mark being silly and lighthearted in a way we only see like 20% of in the rest of the show it's so FUCKED UP. mark got severed to forget about his dead wife and all he got was TWO dead wives!!!
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@egregiousderp #especially since you can find writings of early modern and medival european men writing about the pros of being friends with your wife#they have no concept of romance just friendship and carnal desire#if you actually like your wife shes your best friend#so its culture!#<-absolxguardian’s prev tags#I CAN COMMENT ON THIS ACTUALLY!#because marriage wasn’t so much about sexual desire as it was about the duty of procreation and lineage for a lot of nobler houses?#it’s more tied in with the idea of status or duty!#you see that especially well in some of the chivalry movements#wanting to have sex with someone was almost completely divorced from the idea of proper marriage#seducing a guy you like so he has to ‘do the right thing’ and make your child legitimate was a thing#we have a very different view of sex and marriage post-birth control pill is my theory at least#it’s still super odd as an ace person seeing these people who don’t even LIKE their spouses as people but are so horny for them they marry
You're exactly right. My tags were just about one aspect of this different system, not differentiating between friendship and feelings of emotional affection towards your spouse/sex partner (romance). This isn't even getting into marriage, which was a thing that could be separate from both sexual attraction and friendship/romance. The idea that the birth control pill caused a major sea change is commonly accepted historiography (as well as easier to use condoms and for a period of time before HIV emerged cures for all STDs). A lot of our contemporary sex negative ideas are out-dated good advice when sex could be very dangerous (of course these ideas have forgotten their purpose. They become self justifying with their own value judgements, instead of practical advice about pregnancy being dangerous and new people causing complications).
Another thing that has occured to me since writing those tags is the idea that some contemporary historians have, deeming very close friendships between 17th and 18th century as "romantic friendships" (and thus sexless). This is done in a very no-homoing way, but considering this a way to make their relationship not queer is asexual erasure. But on the other hand, these relationships weren't considered deviant or even all that close to sodomy in their own time periods. But if their culture can be seen as not differentiating between romance and friendship, then what?
I'd put my guess for the emergence of romance as a concept in Europe as with the movement- romanticism- it takes its name from. But I don't feel like I know enough to confidently present this as a thesis, and I haven't been able to find an actual acadmic paper saying the same thing. Potentially you could say that courtly love is the first instance of romance in Europe, but you could also classify it as being about sexual tension and unconsummated sexual relationships. They did consider what they did dancing around the line, in a time when you weren't required to like your spouse. (And this is just Europe, but I know very little about this kind of intellectual history elsewhere, since I can only read stuff that has been translated into English).
I'm currently in a philosphy of sex and love class, and after four weeks I have no more insight into what romantic love is. But most of the texts we've read have been about figuring out a definition for love in general. The only guy who put forth an idea about romance specifically, has a definition that is incompatible with polyamory. But I am writing this right before doing the readings for our upcoming week that is focused on polyamory, so maybe I'll have more to say in two hours.
[guy who is aromantic voice] sexual attraction just makes more sense than romantic attraction. like ok, you want to fuck someone. this is quantifiable. it is quite easy to grasp what "i want to fuck someone" looks like, even if you have no idea what it feels like. romantic attraction, though? this is a nebulous construct which seems to largely be "glorified friendship with sex" in the popular imagination. what even is the difference between friendship and romance? the line between friendship and sexual attraction, though both can coexist, is that when there's sexual attraction present, you want to fuck someone. the line between friendship and romantic attraction, so far as i can perceive it within a heteronormative, amatonormative framework, is that it is... friendship where you want to fuck someone. what?
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the art of missing someone
summary: bucky barnes was a lot, but he would always be yours
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
word count: 3.2k
warnings: brief college then modern au, little bit of angst, don't ask if this is based off personal experience i will cry, smut (MINORS DNI!) [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)], confessions, idk man i'm just here
a/n: first fic of 2025!! this was a bitch and i still lowkey hate it but it is what it is
main masterlist - i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary for updates!
The thing about Bucky Barnes was, well, he’s kind of an asshole.
In a funny way, really, but an asshole through and through and, for some reason, that did it for you.
It did it for you so much, in fact, that you had been going in circles with him for years now. You met him originally at a party in college; you didn’t know anyone except for your roommate, Natasha, and she introduced you. You immediately gravitated towards him, with his quick wit and sharp opinions, you felt like you could talk to him about anything. He kept close to you the entire night, getting more touchy as the evening dragged on, until the tipping point came.
You were finishing up a game of beer pong where you and Bucky absolutely dominated, and as you sank the last cup, he picked you up, swinging you around before setting you back on your feet. The thing is, he didn’t really let you go. You stood there, in the middle of a crowded party, with his arms around you and it was like everyone else disappeared.
Searching your eyes for permission, he bent his head down and his lips met yours and that was really the beginning of it all. It was unlike any kiss you had ever had, sweet but a little desperate and you craved more.
It became a thing, after that. You would see Bucky at a party, make nice for a few hours, then end up in a closet or empty bedroom making out until someone came to find you.
But more than that, Bucky became your friend. He was who you talked to in your darkest moments, who you sent stupid videos to, everything, and you liked it like that.
That is, until everything got turned on its head.
It happened right after graduation. You had just moved into your own apartment and were waiting for Bucky to come over for movie night. You hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, the communication very much lacking, but you figured it was just a busy time for both of you and once you got settled, everything would be fine.
That is, until you got a phone call as you closed the microwave door and started the popcorn. Immediately seeing Bucky’s name, you wiped your hands and answered.
“Hey, you almost here?”
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a sigh.
“I- I don’t know how to say this,” Bucky started, and you found yourself growing nervous. There was nothing you and Bucky couldn’t talk about. Well, almost nothing. “Me and Dot, well, we’ve been talking and…”
His voice trailed off, the line going quiet again. But you were going to make him say it.
“We’re getting back together. She really wants to make it work this time.”
And there it was. Dot was Bucky’s on again-off again for the last several years, stretching back to before you even knew him, and it was a sore spot in your friendship. They had mostly been “off” in the time you’d known him, save for a few memorable occasions where she wormed her way back into his life for a couple weeks just to break his heart all over again. It was safe to say she was not your favorite person, and you certainly weren’t hers.
“Bucky…” you started, but he cut you off.
“No, I know what you’re thinking.” He actually probably had no clue how evil the thoughts you had were, but you weren’t going to enlighten him. “But it’s serious this time, we’ve been talking since graduation and we’re both ready to give this a real shot, without all the bullshit.”
He sounded so sincere, and he was your best friend, so you took a deep breath and sighed, accepting the fact that if you wanted Bucky in your life, this was just something you would have to deal with.
You could hear his relieved laugh on the other end, and you felt your stomach give an odd lurch, like someone had pulled a carpet out from under you.
“I knew you would understand, thank you.”
“Of course, Buck. Now, what about movie night?”
Another beat of silence, then, just like you knew it would happen:
“I can’t, Dot is coming over.”
You wanted to argue, to scream, to make him feel bad about choosing her over you, but hadn’t he already? So instead, you mumbled a quiet agreement and hung up, not wanting to talk to him any longer. Already, it felt like the beginning of the end.
And you weren’t sure you were ready for that.
-
It didn’t even happen slowly, is the worst part. You didn’t see Bucky that night, or any night for the weeks that followed. It wasn’t until you saw him at the coffee shop by your apartment that you were able to talk to him.
You sat down at his table, no longer interested in placid excuses and apologies, and asked him point blank what was going on.
“I’m just trying to keep Dot happy.”
“By staying away from me?” You were frustrated, sure, but under that really you were just hurt. “Listen, you know I don’t like her, but I would never ask you to choose between us. That’s not fair and if she cared about you like she said she does, then she wouldn’t either.”
“It’s not like that!” His voice was raising, just a little, so you knew he was just being defensive. He must have heard it too because he cleared his throat, voicing going back to normal. “I just don’t want to cause any problems.”
You nodded, grabbing your coffee as you stood up, and headed for the door. If he was willing to let your friendship go, then you weren’t going to fight him on it. So you left, face heated with embarrassment and tears threatening to spill over.
As you passed the threshold to the coffee shop back onto the sidewalk, you pulled your headphones on, ignoring the bustle of the city and Bucky still watching you leave through the window.
-
Adjusting to a life without Bucky was weird, you had to admit, but you did it anyway. The first few weeks were the hardest, when he was the first person you wanted to text during any occasion, but eventually that muscle memory faded until you were reaching out to the people who actually valued you in their life.
Almost a year passed, and you moved on in all the ways you could. You heard Bucky moved back across the river to Brooklyn and that was about all you knew; your friends avoided the mention of even his name if they could help it, even though you knew at the very least Steve and Natasha still talked to him.
You just hoped he was happy, no matter what he was doing.
It was a cold January night when the notification came through. Wanda had recently convinced you to get on a dating app, even though you were perfectly content being single, thank you, but you had to admit the attention didn’t hurt.
You weren’t expecting much when your phone chimed and you unlocked it without even looking at the notification. Which is how you came face to face with Bucky’s Hinge profile, and a message attached to a picture of you that you knew he had taken saying: hey, you look familiar.
Was that really how he was going to make amends, on a dating app?
You supposed it was kind of funny, in that asshole way of his, and you stared at the message for another moment before responding.
oh, i know you?
if you want to
And, well, that was the thing. You did want to. No matter what he did, no matter how much he hurt you, he was still your best friend. Your Bucky.
Instead of answering, you pulled up a contact you hadn’t opened in months and pressed call. It rang one time before a familiar voice flooded the other end.
“Hey, stranger.”
“Hey, Buck.”
It was a healthy conversation, if you were being honest. Bucky apologized, told you he and Dot were done for good this time and, against your better judgment, you accepted it. You talked for hours after that, catching up on life and reminiscing on old memories, until you checked the time.
“Shit, it’s late,” you said as you put the phone back to your ear. “Almost midnight.”
And then, the words you dreaded but wanted desperately.
“Come over.”
“To Brooklyn? Buck I can’t take the subway this late.”
“I’ll pay for your Uber. Just come over.” You could hear the words he wanted to say, the ones on the tip of his tongue that he just wouldn’t force out.
“Well, I did miss you.” You tried to press it, to make him say it, but he only hummed on the other end.
“So is that a yes?”
You looked down at yourself, cozied up in sweatpants and a hoodie that you were almost entirely sure was Bucky’s, and sighed.
“Yes.”
“Perfect, your Uber will be there in 8 minutes.”
You didn’t have time to wonder how he got your new address - probably one of your mutual friends, maybe he had been keeping more tabs on you than you had on him - and shot up from the couch. With no time to change, you headed to the bathroom and brushed your teeth before taming your hair in the best way you could. As you were stuffing some clothes in an overnight bag - just in case, you told yourself - your phone chimed with a text from Bucky that your Uber had arrived.
In a whirlwind, you rushed to the car where the driver seemed very put off at having to wait a whole 90 seconds for you to walk four flights of stairs, and slid in.
The whole ride there you were nervous. The thing with Bucky was, despite many drunken hookups, you’d never actually had sex. You weren’t really sure why, just that it had never happened and you had been grateful for it in the long run. You weren’t even sure if it would happen tonight, if he still wanted you like that. Even with all your talking and catching up, you hadn’t been brave enough to ask what this meant.
At nearly 1am, your Uber pulled up outside a beautiful Brooklyn brownstone and, there on the front porch, stood Bucky.
He wrapped you in his arms as he stood in front of you, and it all felt so heartbreakingly familiar you gave in immediately, all the tension leaking from your body at the feeling Bucky gave you.
“Hey,” he said softly into your hair. “Come on in.”
Bucky’s house was so far from his old college apartment it was frightening, yet it couldn’t have felt more like Bucky. More like home.
You took in your surroundings, shelves of books and vintage furniture and warm tones, it was almost like stepping back into your own place, the aesthetics were so similar. That was the funny feeling in your chest, you were sure.
Eventually, you ended up on Bucky’s couch with some superhero movie on, not really watching it but still grateful for its background noise to fill the room with each lull in the conversation. Not that there were many, one thing that came easy with Bucky had always been talking - although neither of you did much of that when it really mattered; you figured you could put that out of your mind for now.
Over the course of the movie, you and Bucky shifted closer together until your thighs were pressed flush and you could feel the air from each of his exaggerated hand movements. It wasn’t until a wayward wave nearly grazed your nose that you truly realized how close you had become, and the sight of Bucky’s eyes shifting subtly to your lips has your self restraint at an all time low.
Fuck it, you thought. You had wanted this for so long, but you also knew you could live without Bucky if everything went tits up. It was a sad thought, that, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go. With every bit of courage you had, you let your hand float up to cup Bucky’s cheek, eyes searching for any sort of hesitation. When you found none, you leaned forward to close the admittedly small gap between your lips.
It was electric. Never had a kiss from someone else ever lit a fire inside you the way one from Bucky did. It started off slow, searching, a chance to reacquaint yourselves. But the second Bucky’s hand reached to tangle in your hair, everything shifted.
Suddenly you were pulled in Bucky’s lap, legs straddling his, lips desperate for a taste of what you’d missed for so long. It was everything you hadn’t let yourself wish for, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to be missing it again anytime soon.
It wasn’t until your shirts were on the floor and Bucky was making quick work of your clasped bra that you thought maybe it would be smart to just slow down. Just for a second, just to get your bearings.
An honest to god whine fell from his lips as you pulled back, stopping his hands from undressing you any further.
“Buck,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his, hands cupping his face as if he was something precious. Though you supposed he was, to you at least. “What’s going on?”
“I just…” His voice trailed off, obviously unsure of himself even though this at least was familiar territory. What was to come next, however, was not. “I can’t go another day without making you mine.”
Your core tightened at the words, vivid memories of what Bucky’s hands and mouth could do; fantasies of what else he could do invaded as well as suddenly talking didn’t seem like a priority anymore.
“Take me to bed.” And that was all he needed.
Bucky scooped you up bridal style, carrying you across the threshold of his bedroom and laying you gently on his bed. Your eyes darted around, wanting more of snippets of the life Bucky had built here, but you were quickly distracted by his body covering yours, the weight of him pressed between your thighs was comforting and intoxicating.
Bucky’s touch proved even more distracting as he shed you of your bra, mouth immediately latching to one nipple, the little nips and sucks enough to drive you crazy on their own, while his hands pinched at the other. He continued his assault until you were dizzy with want, then he trailed down your body with his mouth, not leaving an inch of skin undiscovered until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants.
He pulled them down just an inch, then his eyes shot up to meet yours at the discovery.
“No underwear?” His voice was deep, husky, almost fucked out if you really thought about it. It was a thrill that your hold on him was so tight that just the thought of you without underwear was enough to leave him reeling just a little bit.
You batted your eyes innocently. “Someone didn’t give me much warning about my Uber, I apologize.”
The giggle in your voice suggested the insincerity of your apology, but it didn’t deter Bucky as he pulled your pants from your body, mouth and hands still exploring.
His fingers traced unknown patterns along your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart until you were fully exposed to him. You felt nervous all of a sudden, like you had never been in this position before. You had, of course, but never sober, and never with Bucky looking at you so attentively - like he was going to eat you alive.
It was intense, having Bucky’s eyes bore into you as he lowered his mouth to your core, starting with gentle kitten licks until your hips were bucking, searching for more friction. One of his hands pinned your hips to the bed, while the other slipped through your folds, spreading spit and slick, before he slipped one inside of you. Then two, then three, until you were begging for release.
All it took was a soft whisper of come on, baby and a crook of Bucky’s fingers and you were falling apart, the intensity of your orgasm whipping through you, and as you floated back down to your senses, Bucky was still going.
It was feverish, like he couldn’t get enough of your pleasure, and each twitch and moan encouraged him until your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him away from your spent body.
He let out a protest, but you silenced it by pressing your lips to his, moaning at the taste of yourself as his tongue pressed into your mouth. You were lost in the sensation, letting yourself be manhandled until you were once again in Bucky’s lap. Sometime while you had been transported to another planet, his pants had been shed and you were oh so close to getting everything you ever wanted.
With your mouth still pressed to his, you rolled your hips, feeling the weight of him sliding along you. You kept at it, teasing and grinding until he thrust his hips and there it was; one slight adjustment and the feeling of Bucky stretching you out to was more overwhelming than you could have imagined.
Your hips stilled, as did Bucky’s, letting you adjust to him until you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, your way of telling him that you were okay, that he could move.
His thrusts started slowly, letting you feel every inch of him until you were begging for more. When his hands stopped roaming to grip your hips tightly, you knew you were done for.
Bucky held you in place, his hips snapping up to fuck into you and all you could do was hold on for the ride.
You were so overwhelmed you almost missed Bucky’s words, mixed in with his moans, but once you caught them, they were as clear as day:
I missed you.
Over and over, Bucky was repeating the words, interspersed with groans and heavy panting, but your heart restricted regardless
He missed you. Bucky missed you.
With your thoughts such a jumbled mess, reveling in the fact that this was really happening, your orgasm snuck up on you. One second you were floating on the high of Bucky and the next you were crashing, falling, and he was right there to catch you as you came down.
His hips slowed, stuttering as he spilled into you with one final thrust.
For a moment, the world around you didn’t exist. All there was was this moment, with Bucky’s arms around you and your head buried in his shoulder. Everything came back at once: your harsh breaths, the noise of the TV far away in the living room, and Bucky’s hushed whispers as he held you.
“I missed you so much.” You didn’t respond for a moment, but you lifted your head to meet Bucky’s eyes. In them lay the sincerity of his words, vulnerable now that they weren’t being said in the heat of the moment.
“I missed you too, Buck.”
#bucky barnes#bucky#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky fanfic#james buchanan barnes#the winter soldier#marvel#marvel fanfic#mcu#mcu fanfic#tiff writes#the art of missing someone
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Hey girl, just read your Eren one shot and I was loving ittt. Could I ask for a one shot of Eren x black female bestfriends who have a flirty relationship but Eren finally makes a move when she gets asked out by someone else? #smutty please ☺️
we might share the same brain cell :P
you don't want me to see nobody else .ᐟ
plot: bestfriend!eren is tired of only being best friends.
content warning: pining, mutual pining, jealous eren, oblivious reader, slut shaming (barely), titty sucking, oral f!recieving, fingering, cowgirl
peachy's yap: i've literally thought about this so many times i love best friend eren in every way !
“her? nah she's my best friend."
"girlfriend... i don't have a girlfriend. oh y/n? that's my best friend."
"yeah we live together but we're strictly best friends."
those were just three of the many different statements eren replied to strangers. strangers being people your friends brought the two of you around. your friends themselves couldn't even tell others what you both had going on.
"y/n and eren? well, they're best friends, and uh... they hug a lot."
"yeah they do that often, she always sits on his lap."
"when did he start holding her waist in public? that's new."
"truthfully i've seen them kiss. on the lips!"
all of it was true you and eren did hug a lot even cuddle when it was cold. you sat on his lap proudly in public, especially at the club you wouldn't dare let some stripper twerk on your best friend. he held your waist when you and your friends walked around the mall looking for things to buy.
you did kiss twice though once at a dinner party on accident when you turned to talk to eren and the same when he tried to kiss your cheek. another time when you both were crossfaded in your room you looked over at your best friend. his eyes were low and his pink lips shiny from chapstick and he looked very fuckable.
but even after that your friendship stayed the same and you didn't falter. you were best friends and even promised to be in the next life. and today was just like every other day.
"ren!" you yelled and eren walked to you from your shared kitchen. you laid on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching a scary movie. he stood at the end of the couch looking at you with a raised brow.
"yeah ma," he asked and you pointed at the tv his eyes followed your finger. you could barely hear the tv from where you sat. "what you scared?" he laughed at you and you frowned.
"no i ain't scared!" you defended although you were truthfully scared that wasn't what you wanted. "remember how your fat ass stepped on the remote and it broke yesterday?" you said and he looked around trying to act like he didn't hear you.
"what about it?" he asked still looking at the TV.
"i can't hear it and we haven't got a new remote. so can you turn it up pleaseeee?" you asked and he scoffed turning up the TV and looking at you to see if you were satisfied. you nodded in approval happy now that you could hear the TV. "thank you, hun."
"mhm you're welcome," he mumbled walking over to you and kissing your forehead. things like that were everyday interactions for you and eren. it was friendly and you never thought of it any other way. you watched the movie until eren came into the living room with two plates.
he handed you one and sat directly next to you in the corner of the couch. you lifted the blanket placing it over eren's legs. he grabbed your legs placed them over his lap and looked down at you.
"what movie is this again?" he asked and you scoffed rolling your eyes.
"i don't know it's on a random channel, no remote remember." you playfully remind him to which he scoffs. he promised he would go out today and buy a new remote after work.
since you took today off you sat in your room all day waiting for eren to return. just for eren to come back with two bottles of Don Julio, a family box of Cheez-Its, and a value pack of sour gummy worms. everything but a damn remote.
"you don't gotta remind me every time." he laughed and you shook your head.
"i'll go get it tomorrow." you laugh as a comfortable silence settles between the two as you both enjoy the meal. after you both finished he left to clean the dishes and returned minutes later. he sat down in his previous spot except this time he pulled you in between his legs. you leaned your against his chest looking up at him.
"hm?" he hummed in a questioning tone and for a second you weren't exactly sure what you wanted to say. lost in his green eyes that you swore swirled hypnotizing you into becoming a mute. his fingers rubbed small circles on the bare skin of your thigh. his other hand under your oversized teachers resting on your stomach.
"you work tomorrow?" you asked and he nodded looking at the time seeing it was getting close to his bedtime. he was trying to stay up later so you wouldn't call him an old man but he was exhausted. "can i ride with you?"
"yea, you can." he cleared his throat standing you up and standing up behind you. "finna go to bed," he mumbled stretching as your eyes never left his happy trail until it was hidden by his shirt again.
"can you sleep in my room? i got scared." you now admit to being scared by the low-budget horror film. he obliged as you both went to your room.
the next day was how you expected stressful, tiring, and overall draining. it was going on 3 pm and you only had one client left. you had two appointments and even did three walk-ins you were beat.
you looked across the tattoo shop at your best friend who looked even more exhausted than you. he was finishing up his last client it was his second large back piece of the day along with 3 smaller tattoos.
eren was always the busiest it was his shop and everyone loved his work. although you, connie, annie, and mikasa were good at what you did, it wasn't beating eren's talent by a long shot. you stood up walking over to his station sitting next to him watching him work.
after another 20 minutes, your client arrived, he was a regular client for you. if you were being honest you gave him discounts here and there because he was fine as hell. whenever he called and needed you to squeeze him in you never told him no.
"wassup y/n." he smiled his white teeth nearly blinding you with its reflection of the sun. you returned his smile patting the back of the seat.
"heyyy come take a seat," you said and got started with the process. you were first sitting in silence until he asked about your day. taking the opportunity to rant about your stressful day.
"man if i known that i would've waited until tomorrow or when you ain't have as many people," he said and you shook your head.
"i'll never tell you no, you know that." you send him a bright smile and he returns the gesture.
"i must be your favorite?" he laughed and you nodded slowly still keeping your main focus on his tattoo.
"you might be..." you say and he sends you a smirk. he was getting cocky and you fed into it.
"then let your favorite client take you out?" he looked at you and as much as your body wanted to freeze up from shock. you stayed calm lightly nodding your head. "not for no free tattoos or nothin'. i been liking you for a while and i've known you for three years now and..." you cut him off as he started to ramble.
"i'll go out with you." you laughed trying to lighten the mood. he was obviously a little anxious but you admired him for asking.
"oh ok cool, bet." he nodded to himself and you smiled the whole time you finished his tattoo. you were just happy someone you found attractive thought the same about you.
after that, you both said your goodbyes and you walked over to eren who sat in his chair waiting for you to finish. he grabbed your bag from you and you both made sure everything was good to be locked up. you switched the lights off following eren to his bike.
"what were you and that guy gigglin' bout?" eren asked handing you your helmet and you shrugged.
"nothin', much he asked me out and that was about it," you tell eren and he freezes turning to look at you. you weren't sure why he looked so shocked at that statement so you chuckled.
"what?" you asked getting on the back of the bike and he shook his head. not bothering to say anything to you he just wanted to get home. he sped home going a little faster than you liked your arms wrapping tightly around him.
once you both made it back home eren wasted no time jumping off the bike. he didn't even look back at you and rushed into the apartment. you followed behind him oblivious to his anger.
"what you want for dinner i'll cook," you say and he shrugs his shoulders walking to his room and slamming his door shut. you stood in front of the door in shock, you and eren never stayed mad at each other.
you shook your head going to your room and deciding on taking a shower. you sat your phone on the counter in the kitchen along with your keys and bag. you went and did your regular shower routine before going to cook. when you came out eren was sitting at the island eating food.
"you doordashed?" you asked and he nodded. looking down at your phone and then back at his food. you frowned seeing your phone had lit up meaning you had gotten a notification. you walked over grabbing your phone seeing it was a text from the client who had asked you out.
6:23 pm
it was good to see your pretty face today how does friday at 7 pm sound?
you smiled at the message about to text back until eren snatched your phone. you looked up at him with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. "eat your food." he nodded in the direction of the bag and you squinted your eyes at him.
"fuck we forgot the remote again." you groaned. eren watched your every move you felt him watching. but you ignored it not wanting him to know that you were nervous from his intense gaze. "what's your problem today?" you asked getting it over with.
"you gonna go out with him?" he asked and you turned to look at him like he had lost his mind.
"why would i not?" you say grabbing your food and sitting next to him. he hummed nodding his head almost like you were irritating him. you both ate your food in silence just as you were about to swallow your last bite eren spoke.
"you ever thought about how it'd make me feel?" he asked and you choked on your food not sure what he meant.
"what?" you asked and he sighed looking away from you.
"i'm just sayin' like we best friends and stuff..." you cut him off assuming he thought you both had to sit down and contemplate whether or not you would date this guy or not.
"you expect me to run to you like you're my father and ask if it's that i date him?" you said now getting angry that eren was acting this way.
"that's not what i'm getting at bruh. i'm sayin' like one guy comes and asks you on a date and you just said yes?" he said and you squinted your eyes at him.
"you callin' me easy?" you asked grabbing your empty plate and throwing it away. not only were you fed up with his attitude his words hurt you.
"no ma that's not..."
"don't 'ma' me. you sittin' here callin' me easy and getting mad that someone showed interest in me. i've never had a boyfriend because they're always scared of you. let me have this one please." you practically beg eren. and then there it was again. that swirling in his eyes that was saying everything and nothing at all. you began to storm off to your room but eren asked a question that made your stomach churn.
"have you ever... thought about me? in that way?" he asked you and you blinked in shock.
"in what way?" you asked, you needed him to be straight up and tell you what he really wanted to know.
"have you ever thought about dating me and uh... being with me?" he asked and you cleared your throat. you never thought you and your best friend would be having this conversation.
"yes i have... maybe a year ago," you admitted and he grabbed your wrist pulling you back to him.
"when we kissed? in your bed?" he asked and you nodded slowly.
"i thought about you for days, months really. i hid the way i felt, i didn't want you to know," you admitted to him.
"i've always felt that way about you," he admitted and you looked at him your eyes running over his face. his eyes, nose, lips, everything that made you feel the way you did a year ago. "don't go out with him... go out with me."
you didn't know what to say but you knew you wanted to kiss him. it had been a year since you felt those lips against yours and you needed him. you were standing between his legs as he sat on the barstool in your kitchen. his hands gripped the exposed skin of your waist as you both stared at each other
you couldn't wait another minute to press your lips against his. the softness of his lips and the urgency in his movements made it all the more sensual. your hands ran along his shoulders finding their way in his hair. you took out his bun letting his hair fall as you ran your fingers through his hair.
"have you ever thought of me like this?" you asked referring to the intimate moment you were both about to have.
"so so so many times," he said breathlessly lifting you like you weighed nothing. he sat you on the counter gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. he stood between your legs and went back to kissing you. his hands found their way to your ass and massage the flesh. your hands rubbed the back of his neck playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.
he pushed his tongue in your mouth his tongue roaming around your mouth. the kiss was sloppy spit sloshing and swapping between your mouths. he pulled back as a line of spit followed, both of your chests raising and falling at a fast pace.
he grabbed your jaw pushing your head backward and attacking your neck. you whine at the feeling of his teeth grazing the muscles of your neck. he kissed down your neck and behind your ear, you could hear his rigid breathing. his hands reached under your shirt noticing you don't have a bra on.
"no bra?" he asked smirking and you sighed as he pulled your shirt over your head.
"i just g...got out the shower." you stuttered as he rolled his nipples between his pointer finger and thumb. he pulled at them watching your eyes flutter close at the feeling. he roughly grips your breasts fondling them and looking at you.
"put em' in my mouth," he instructed looking up at you through his lashes. your eyes widened at the thought and he nodded letting you know he was serious. he stuck his tongue out as you grabbed your boob placing it on his tongue.
his mouth latched around your breast sucking and lightly biting at your nipple. his hand grabbed your right boob fondling and playing with your nipple until he switched. he sucked so hard that you felt your need cunt clench around nothing wanting him in you so bad. your hands played in his hair pulling him away from your chest.
"why'd you do that?" he frowned looking up at you. his eyes were 3 shades darker.
"i need you..." you whined and he smirked at your neediness. he lifted you off the counter kiss you as he walked over to the couch placing you on your back.
"can i take off your shorts?" he asked and you nodded. he took off your shorts looking at your skimpy panties that were soaked. your juices creating a wet spot on your pretty pink panties. eren spread your legs his nose nudging the spot sniffing your scent.
eren let out a guttural groan and the smell and pulled off his shirt. his body was nothing new to you but seeing him hover above you with his shirt off made it so much more sensual. he unbuttoned his pants taking them off followed by his boxers. he was huge not as big as you imagined but to be fair you imagined him to be 13 inches.
although he wasn't as long as he was in your wet dreams, 8 1/2 inches was bigger than most. he was bigger than most of the guys you followed on twitter. you reached up grabbing his dick and your hand couldn't even wrap all the way around it. you stroked him slowly and he threw his head back his cock already twitching from the feeling.
"let me taste you," he mumbled and you looked up at him with a smile. you wanted to tease him, he was a naturally dominant man. even one second to be a tease was enough to make you feel superior.
"what was that rennie?" you asked in a seductive tone rubbing your thumb across the slit of his tip playing with the stickiness of his precum.
"i said let me taste you," he said louder this time and you nodded. spreading your legs. eren gripped your panties easily ripping them down the middle. your lips and swollen clit on full display your entrance dripping your wetness. "such a pretty pussy... so wet for me." he hummed leaning down to lick a long stripe down your folds.
he sucked on your clit and now and then teased your entrance with his tongue. he groaned into your pussy while he eat you out your body squirming under the feeling. your legs tried to squeeze together trapping his head between them, the feeling so overwhelming.
eren pushed your legs open letting up from your clit. his thumb swirled over your clit and you moaned loudly from the feeling. without warning he pushed his middle finger in fingering you roughly.
"you like that baby?" he asked with a raised brow and your head was thrown back as you moaned loudly at the feeling. he didn't get an answer from you so he pushed in a second finger. you whined at the pressure of a second finger. "you keep ignoring me i'll add a third." he said deeply and you pushed your limits thinking there was no way he would.
he fingered you vigorously so fast that you could hear your juices sloshing. your cunt tightened around his fingers. loving the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. since you didn't answer eren did as he said he would add another finger in. you squealed he was stretching you so good and the feeling was overwhelming.
"m'close ren." you moaned feeling that feeling in your stomach.
"tell me how much you love it then i'll let you cum." he said and your voice was giving out from your moaning and screaming. "c'mon ma just three words." he taunted you while he fingered your wet, needy pussy. he ground his hips into the couch getting harder by the minute watching you leak all over the couch just from his fingers.
"i love it ren fuck!" you yelled and he smirked as your body gyrated from the orgasm begging to be released.
"cum for me baby, cum for your best friend rennie." he said as you let go cumming hard, your cream coating his fingers as your body shivered from the pleasure. "gooood girl," he said pulling his cream-coated fingers out of your cunt. he pushed them into your mouth as you sucked and slurped your cream off his fingers.
he pushed them down your throat making you gag on all three of his thick digits. you smiled at him as he leaned down kissing you. his tongue dancing with yours as he tasted you on your tongue. you sat up pushing him down on the couch. he leaned against the back of the couch as you straddled his waist.
"you sure?" he asked and you nodded wanting to show him what you could do. although you never had a boyfriend didn't mean you never had sex. you wanted to show eren what he had been missing.
you planted your feet on the ground lowering yourself onto him. he moaned in your ear and you whimpered at the way his cock stretched you. he was way thicker than those three fingers he used earlier. you lowered yourself fully onto him until your ass met his thighs.
your eyes were closed and your body ground into his, enjoying the feeling. after you adjusted to the size you began to ride him. your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands gripping your waist.
"fuck baby you feel so good, so wet, fuck." he groaned as you fastened your pace bouncing on his cock. you couldn't slow down you couldn't take it slow, not with the way you felt every inch of his cock stroking your insides.
"mmm ren." you moaned leaning your chest against his kissing him biting on his bottom lip. your pace slowed a little until eren moved his grip to your ass helping you ride him. still kissing you roughly while he moved you to keep the same fast pace.
his big hands almost covering most of your ass, he slapped one encouraging you to ride him faster. he watched the way your beautiful brown ass rippled from the force.
"you're doing so good ma. make us cum." he tells you as your knees got tired and he grabbed you. "you tired baby?" he asked whispering in your ear.
"mmm mhm." you whimpered out and he nodded. eren turned around so you both were lying the length of the couch. he planted his feet fucking up into you. "ren!" you yelled feeling him roughly fuck into you. it was extremely loud the sound of your bodies colliding and your yelling out from eren's rough thrust was enough for the two of you to get noise complaints.
"you close baby? i'm close." he rambled loving the feeling of your walls clenching and unclenching around him. "play with your clit." he demanded. you listened not in the mood to defy him. you rubbed your clit vigorously watching eren bite his lips as sweat ran down his forehead. his hair stuck to his forehead and his broad shoulders tensed as he fucked up into you with immense force.
"m'cumming ren." you moaned loudly and he grunted.
"me too cum with me ma." he said as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you whimpered out in pleasure. "fuck i love you shit," he said and your eyes widened as his warm cum filled you up. his dick twitching and pulsing as his seed painted your insides white.
"y... you love me?" you asked still sitting on his cock as your mixed fluids dripped down his dick and his balls. your body automatically grinding into his at the feeling of being full.
"of course i do i've told you that so many times," he said giving you a confused look and you shook your head.
"no that was as friends i mean do you love me like a lover?" you asked and he smiled at your explanation.
"i never meant it as a friend," he said and you pouted at his statement and you nodded in satisfaction.
"then i love you too rennie."
#kamospeach#mspeach#mzpeach#peachy#peachywritez#dividers by adornedwithlight#dividers by cafekitsune#eren smut#eren yeager#eren jaeger#eren aot#eren x reader#aot#aot x reader#attack on titan#eren x black y/n#eren x you#eren x black fem!reader#eren x oc#eren x black reader#eren x y/n#eren jeager#aot x black reader#aot smut#aot x you#aot x black y/n#aot x y/n
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twice and the ways to say i miss you when they are touring
im nayeon
i’m sorry but you must endure the one thousand kisses once she gets back or she will cry
demands with pouts and that cute voice that makes you cave in
what? the tour is amazing but after being weeks apart from her lover can make her do weird things (ask jeong or jihyo, they can confirm)
she’s got a whole bottle of your perfume/fragrance to cope with a your jacket so it feels like you’re always there giving her a hug
but now that she’s back >:)))
will 100%, with no miss at all, pin you down every morning to snuggle and kiss you despite your whines of you trying to be a bit early to work
oh you work from home? better make sure you work fast or she will distract you with those hands 😋 no escape for you
yoo jeongyeon
constant video calls to keep her grounded but it’s never enough to make her feel that 100% energy boost
lowkey losing it but to her members they can see how miserable she can get when you aren’t there
sorry she’s like this but she just really really needs your cuddles right now and the fact that you’re so far away makes it so so so mean :((
she manages with the polaroids of both of you that she brings everywhere
of course she won’t pressure you but good lord you also don’t know what to do without her close to you at most nights
and that’s why you’re always with her on tour once you can start working remotely, always either disguised as the “manager/staff” or straight up out to the world that you’re her lover
hirai momo
misses you and her children (read: her dogs) that when she fatetimes you she’s abt to sob
“my babies!” she says everytime you go on call and boo and dobby are with you
clings unto sana to cope (both of them are coping together through the power of friendship!!!)
one time she managed to convince all of twice to get food at 4 am to cope??? anyway yeah so there they were at 4 am at a taco cart munching away with like two other managers
everytime she comes home she brings you snacks and treats and spends most of her time with you and her dogs
minatozaki sana
on the outside she’s calm cool collected a lil flirty
in the inside she’s screaming fighting for her LIFE because wdym you aren’t a phone call away from her to cling unto you huh
clings unto her members for moral support and they always send pictures of her clinging to you (THROUGH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP)
buys you jewelry that she thinks looks good on you and copes with that information until she lands back home
pouncing on you the moment you see her come down from the van in front of your apartment/home
“baby!!!” she screams as she clings unto you like a koala and she’s abt to make you both fall over
sorry she’s never letting you go
you are now the latest personal bodyguard of sana for the next couple of days btw (she likes them a lil possessive)
park jihyo
she can fairly cope well for the first few days but she can feel bits of her cracking when she doesn’t get your dose of cuddles
copes by also stealing your jacket but she actually steals two so she can have two styles ready that has a piece of you with her
always playing with the necklace you got for her on your 9th date with her or with the keychain on her bag that you got on a random day proclaiming that yes that sleeping bear keychain reminded you of jihyo because both her and the keychain look cute
she’s always so busy even when she gets home so she never really gets to release that want to just be alone with you
but holds you so close and so tight when both of you are sleeping to feel calm and to convey the feelings she always has for you
myoui mina
doesn’t show it to anyone, even you, that she’s abt to break bc she misses you so much
copes with buying trinkets that remind her of you so she ends up coming home from tour
half of her big suitcase is trinkets, someone stop her
you always end up sorting the trinkets and like dedicating a space in your home for it. when she comes back you both take the time to add it to the collection together
you know those apps for u to use to signal you miss your lover yeah well mina didn't take long to convince you to download it
is that another damn trinket
kim dahyun
the most sane one in twice
she always takes you out on dates back before the tour starts so she uses those memories to cope + regular calls with you despite time differences always helps
writes yearning songs all the damn time
YEARNING IN SONG WRITING!! THAT DAMN NOTEBOOK IS ALMOST FULL SHE'S ABOUT TO BUY ANOTHER
when she returns from tour, she cherishes the most domestic things with you
case and point she fell so much harder for you when you were both just doing chores, humming the songs blasting from your speakers
son chaeyoung
shut up wdym nonchalant?? no. clingy gf realness
she is OBSESSED WITH YOU there is no way this woman won't lose it when you are not with here in tour
but your work is important so she won't pull you away
though i bet you half of her wardrobe is your clothes with your perfume smothered on them
twice members complain at how much she's always missing u, yearning for u, talking about u, yapping abt u
it's the rest of twice that begs for you to come with them the next tour to shut her up
she does not shut up but you get to distract her by kissing and it always works
chou tzuyu
her? missing you? why should she miss you when she can just bring you along??????????
only member to actually think about it and put it to action the moment you both started to become official
it took so much convincing, and like you had to also be a part of staff lowk
like who is holding the cam for her vlogs?? you babes it's you
sometimes the other members also ask for your help but honestly you don't mind and tzuyu gets to film you too sometimes so like yay bonding activities
kisses backstage!!! KISSES BACKSTAGE TZUYU CHEERED
#this was like in my drafts for TOO LONG anyway enjoy#twice x reader#twice headcanons#im nayeon#yoo jeongyeon#hirai momo#minatozaki sana#park jihyo#myoui mina#kim dahyun#son chaeyoung#chou tzuyu#twice imagine#twice scenarios#twice imagines
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Thank you!! Someone had to say it!
I actually liked that they didn't handle it well in the book simply because it made sense in the narrative, and for who the characters are. Its 2007, and none of them (as far as we know) have a frame of reference for Jean's type and scope of trauma. If they responded perfectly, I think I'd honestly find it kind of hard to believe. I'm a fan of authors being very logical in their character's responses like that.
But I'll go a step further, and look at it from a more...emotional? angle. I don't understand why people hate on them for handling it badly. When I read the book, I found it almost...endearing? In the sense that -to me- their occasionally badly executed attempts at handling Jean reflect such a determination to care and to try.
As always, bear with me.
A major theme of the book, in my opinion, is that looking away, be it literally or metaphorically, when something is wrong and someone needs help, is an act of violence. To me, the floozies ‘bad’ handling of Jean’s trauma is just a product of them not looking away. The easier thing is always to look away, or worse, to push the thing that makes you uncomfortable away as fast and far as you can.
Trauma is often reacted to this way. Most people are not used to seeing people get triggered, especially when the resulting behavior is violent or frightening in nature. People aren't sure how to deal with what are clearly serious issues, so they respond to that discomfort by pulling away. They put distance between themselves and this person they don't understand, and in the process, alienate the victim further.
Cat, Laila, and Jeremy seem to be aware that they are in over their heads, with Jean. They can see that he's got shit going on that they have no idea how to deal with.
But they don't drop him, they don't pretend it isn't happening, and they don't hold him at arm's length.
They try.
They use what limited, ill fitting knowledge they have, and they try to meet him where he's at. They do not respond like trauma therapists because they are not trauma therapists. They are twenty-somethings in 2007 who understand very little beyond knowing that there is a person in front of them who is clearly not alright.
Over and over again, they choose to do the uncomfortable thing, and try to offer him what they can. What he needs is probably intensive therapy- but he's has (or will have, come TGR) Betsy for that.
The Floozies are offering something less clean cut than a therapist, but no less well intentioned or valuable. It's friendship, and warmth, and a chance at normalcy. They challenge his harmful thinking, and try to prevent him from retreating within himself so far that no one can get to him. They push him to do new things, and provide a contrast to what he believes life to be.
And yeah, sometimes they mishandle things. They're also young. But they do not quit on him. They very determinedly do not look away, even as the pile of Big Scary Concepts To Reckon With gets bigger and bigger. I think they're meant to be a contrast to the Ravens, in a lot of ways. Instead of picking on his weakness, they refuse to leave him behind. They don't let him stay trapped in his own head just because it would be easier for them.
In my opinion, their well intentioned, somewhat poorly executed attempts at trying are a hundred times better than not trying at all.
"the floozies are terrible at dealing with Jean's trauma!!?!!!"
the floozies are twenty years old
#the sunshine court#aftg#the floozies#aftg thoughts#all for the game#i was so surprised at the amount of criticism the floozies got#i thought they were trying their best yk
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Haechan ⋆⭒˚.⋆
idol!Haechan x f!idol!reader
summary: what better way to promote your new music than to do an interview with your boyfriend?! Does he know that? No!
(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
You were grinning widely as you sat in the pink chair. You bowed to the camera introducing yourself with an excited smile, "Hi everybody! I'm so excited to be here today. The staff and I have planned a bit of a prank today."
Your friendship with Haechan had started when you debuted. Haechan was one of the first idols around your age that you felt comfortable with. He was funny, nice, and was a good friend. He gave you a lot of advice on how to handle the long days, how to speak up with your company, and how to take care of yourself when it all got to be too much. And perhaps... taking care of yourself meant indulging in your friendship with Haechan, in private and in public.
The fans had surprisingly been pretty cool about both of you being close. It wasn't very often that fans got to see two idols from different companies have a genuine friendship. They liked seeing the two of you play around backstage, the random mention of each other in YouTube vlogs or lives, and the very few and far between posts you shared of each other.
When the edits evolved from 8 whole minutes of the two of you being the best of friends to the both of you being secretly in love for 11 minutes, maybe, just maybe, you both began to see each other in a new way. Maybe you guys went on a date to test the waters and maybe that date meant that the two of you became something more and maybe this video would be one of the first times you both directly acknowledged your romantic relationship. Well, beyond standard wordy posts that your companies put out to disclose your relationship.
You smile at the camera, "today I will be pranking my boyfriend Haechan. He thinks he's doing this interview with someone else and has no clue its me!"
Finally, on the other side of the wall, enters the set and sits himself in the blue chair, "Hello, I am Haechan from NCT. Today I will be using the screen name Sunshine and I am excited to figure out my partner is. I think I'll figure it out very easily."
On your side of the wall you, cup a hand over your mouth to suppress a giggle, "I'm going to be so annoying!"
"Hey," you type, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing.
"Oh, it's starting!" you hear Haechan exclaim. You phone vibrates with a message that reads, 'hey.'
"Geez, he's really boring isn't he? Let's make this more exciting!" You laugh, typing back something you don't think you'd ever tell your boyfriend to his face, "wow, I know this is a handsome man I'm talking to. Tell me, are you handsome?"
Haechan flushes in front of the pink wall with his jaw dropped in shock, "w-what?!"
You calm down a bit, not being as bold with your flirtation so that the both of you could progress the conversation. You both make small talk, talking about base level interests. Then comes the home screen exchange. You'd been preparing for this!
Since no one ever really saw your homescreens, you and Haechan had decided to have cute matching backgrounds, a cute couples selfie you'd taken together. What he didn't know, and you didn't tell him because he was so whiny, was that you had changed it. So he sent you an blurred version of his usual background, a picture of the two of you with you biting his cheek and his eyes screwed shut laughing. You knew the picture well, not only because you lived it but also because you had the picture that followed as your own background before you changed it for this interview.
Haechan's phone dropped from his hands, eyes blown wide in shock again. The staff were busy laughing behind the camera while you sat with a smug smile, listening for his reaction. "Is this real? Is this actually your background?" You read the message that had been sent to you.
"Why wouldn't it be?" You message him back.
Haechan doesn't even look at his phone again, he locks his screen and sets it on his thigh. He groans, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face, "how do you turn someone down nicely?"
You bite your lip when you hear that. Your plan had worked, your precious Haechan was flushed and embarrassed. You type back, "do you know NCT Haechan? He's so talented and funny. I'm a big fan, are you?"
"Yeah, it couldn't be more obvious," Haechan grumbles, staring at the homescreen. He can't look at any of the apps or notifications because he's staring at his own face! A collage of pictures of him-- only him. Pictures of him from his debut to pictures of him from his last performance.
Maybe he was speaking to some kind of comedian, it was some kind of joke that happened to revolve around him. He'd watched some of these interviews before and it never worked out that one person knew who they were texting and the other didn't. This had to be some kind of strange coincidence.
He somehow expertly turned the conversation around, evading your question and changed the conversation into something more lighthearted. Then comes the first Would You Rather. The question: would you rather make a burping sound while farting or farting sound while burping?
You take a second to think, considering the question then finally send your answer, "I think I'd rather make a farting sound while burping."
"Really?" Haechan replies, "why is that? I mean I agree, but I'm curious to hear your reasoning?"
"Tell me yours first," you reply.
"Well mostly I don't want to feel the rumbling feeling of a burp in my butt," Haechan types out.
"He's so gross," you mutter as you read the screen, "he's such a guy." And yet you type out a message, "wow, that's so manly of you.."
Haechan runs his hand through his hair, "how would someone read that and find it attractive?"
Again, he doesn't address your flirting. He maneuvers around it, he doesn't want to be the guy that hurts yours or anyone's feelings, even a stranger's.
By the time the both of you get to the end of the interview having just sent the most recent pictures in your camera roll to each other, Haechan feels a horrible ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. You had sent him a picture of a flower from some bush outside and he had sent you a picture of the products that had been used on his face before the interview. (He'd sent the picture to you.) How is he going to handle this?!
He looks up from yet another flirty message with a look of unease, "you guys don't do these things with crazy fans right?"
The staff reassure him that no, they absolutely would not ever do anything to put him or anyone else in harm's way. His partner is just a silly person, a jokester.
You, on the other hand, are a ball of excitement to reveal yourself. The time comes to meet your partner, though you already know yours. You prop yourself on the wall, one hand outstretched against the wall and the other on your hip.
Haechan rounds the corner and sees you. You flip your hair, winking at him with a, "hey, handsome."
He falls to his knees, hand clutched over his heart while he lets out a sigh of relief and a loud exaggerated whine, "how could my own lover do this to me?!"
It takes both you and the staff to calm Haechan down, but you eventually get him to sit in the chair of the high top table and get the frown off his face. He's still pouty of course, and he lets you know so, "how could you do this to me?"
"With the help of my managers, your managers, the production here at Kode... duh," you answer, squeezing his knee beneath the table reassuringly.
"You're so funny," he deadpans, "but seriously, I was so stressed that I was going to have to see a real life crazy person and turn them down while maintaining my safety. Thank goodness it was a real life crazy person I already knew."
You shove his shoulder with a laugh, "so you had no clue who it was?"
"Absolutely no clue," Haechan confirms, "I did think that this was going to be easy at first, but you came on so strong that I had to mostly focus on getting us to have a normal, not flirty conversation. Did you have fun stressing me out, my menace?"
"The best time ever," you nod with a proud smile.
Haechan lets out a breathy laugh, more of a soft exhale of air as he pulls your hand up and pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, "I'm never doing an interview with you ever again."
"You say that now, but you're my biggest fan. Don't you want me to be successful? How can I be successful if even my handsome, sunbaenim boyfriend won't help me?" You tease, looking at him with a look all too innocent to be real.
"Oh right. Please make sure to check out my girlfriend's first solo debut. The music is amazing, her voice sounds like angels singing, the music videos are award winning, the outfits are out of this world and there is nothing like it in all the world. Please support her... or I will have to," Haechan states with a fake smile while looking right into the lens of the camera, letting his smile drop into a pleading face for the ending.
"Yes, please make sure to check out my solo! I appreciate it," you smile at the camera, bowing to show your gratitude. While you fulfill your promoting duties you miss the adoring look on Haechan's face. The way his eyes soften and he looks at you with a calm, serene look of love.
You look at him with a soft smile, "can you forgive me for my prank?"
He tugs you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, "I can make an exception if you promise this will be the last time you prank me."
"Well, of course," you answer too quickly. A lie, of course.
The conversation between you dwindles down and the two of you take your selfie. You smile brightly at the camera with your head tucked beneath Haechan's chin, Haechan smiles sweetly at the camera with his usual close-lipped smile. It's the first selfie as a romantic couple that anyone will see of the two of you and it makes you slightly nervous, but more than anything you're excited for people to see just a sliver of the dynamic you and Haechan share, the love that's there.
"Thank you to the team at Kode for having us and thank you to the fans in advance for all the love and support. I hope you love it," you smile at the cameras.
The video ends with the screen fading to black, but if fans listen closely, they can hear Haechan reassuring you, "everyone is going to love it, honey. How could they not love anything you do?"
#kpop imagines#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#nct#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#haechan imagines#haechan fluff#haechan scenarios#haechan fic#haechan x reader#donghyuck imagines#donghyuck x reader#donghyuck scenarios#donghyuck fic
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bsf!chris x reader
backfired.
summary: just one of your car rides with chris,where you get to know something interesting yet heartbreaking about him.
warnings: none its just interactions between two friends ig
a/n: ill keep making such blurbs and texts’ until they get together guys trust🙏 also this is inspired by yesterday’s video!!!
more of this au here
you are in the passenger seat of the car that is more familiar to you than your own. the scent of weed mixed with chris’ cologne smells like everyday to you,music playing in the background,chris bobbing his head to the beat as his eyes stay focused on the road.
chris looks away from the road for a split second-just to glance at you looking at him.
its been a couple of weeks since you broke up with your ex,and chris has been there for you this entire time,getting you food in bed when you dont feel like getting up,staying over,helping you out in any way that he can-your admiration for him grew everytime he helped you out.
right now,nobody is talking in the car,but this is what you love about your friendship with chris-you can sit there in silence and just think without worrying if it will get awkward. well unless he says something stupid and breaks the silence.
you loved that about him,so much- he says everything that comes to his mind,he vocalises his thoughts to you and that makes you feel safe.
he parks at a corner,pulls the mc donalds bags’ ahead from the back seat.
“here are your fries-and your nuggets” he talks mimicking how a parent would talk to a child,you chuckle.
“what if the nugget you eat just exploded in your tummy like-boom” chris says and immediately starts cackling,you laugh with him,your head falling back and your eyes shut.
“shut up bro im fucking crying” you said wiping a tear that was developed out of laughter.
chris nods still chuckling,taking a bite out of his burger, his eyes turn to you as he smiles with his mouth full.
“how many people have you been in love with?” he asks out of nowhere,catching you off guard
“this is so random” you chuckle chewing at your fries.
“just tell me” chris groans acting annoyed
“i have definitely told you this before” you said taking a sip out of his sweet tea.
“no you haven’t” he shakes his head.
“you think we haven’t talked about this before? be for real chris” your eyes narrow,not believing that you two-probably the only two people in this world who have discussed all topics from the most random to the deepest,in detail for hours-haven’t talked about this.
“on my life-i dont know the answer to this question,why do you think i asked” he shruggs
“i think just the one time-remember i told you about the guy i grew up with back home?”you remind him
“yeah yeah him-how long do you think you were in love with him?" he asks another question.
“well lets see..” you start counting years on your fingers, giving up before answering .
“from the age of 12-maybe 11 till i was almost 17” you answer with wide eyes.
“no fucking way-i did not know that” his eyes widen at your response too,before he continues talking.
“what was it about him?” he looks up at you from his fries.
“i dont know-we were friends for so long he knew everything about me and i knew everything about him,he was just a nice dude” you said almost sounding like you were describing chris.
“so he was me?” chris gives you a smile-the smile with his entire underbite showing.
you grin,blinking at him before jokingly hitting his face to the side.
“what about you? how many times has THE chris sturniolo been in love?” you asked looking at him with a smirk,you have an answer at the back of your mind because this conversation has 100% taken place before.
“alright this backfired real quick” chris mumbles under his breath with a scoff,his gaze turning away from you hiding a shy smile. you were beyond confused.
“WHAT? YOU DONT WANNA TELL ME?” you were shocked by his response,usually chris wants to tell you everything,and knowing that you both have definitely talked about this before, him not wanting to answer this question now bothered you.
“okay i’ll flash the numbers and you just stop me when you see the answer yeah?” to your words chris drops his hands into his face and groans slightly,like he is…embarrassed?
you hold up one finger in his face,to which he pulls his face out of his hands,looking at your hand and shakes his head in disappointment.
“you think i am at one?” chris spoke his voice cracking just a tiny bit
“okay i remember now-two” you were positive that thats what his answer was,because when you first became friends he did mention being in love twice
a small smile on his face as he fidgets with the straw on his drink,he shook his head again.
“no??? three people then!?” you screamed in his face
“DONT SAY IT LIKE THAT?” he replies with a frown
“can i get a list because i feel like im missing someone” you asked him genuinely curious because you definitely remember only the two .
“maybe later” chris hummed returning back to his fries with the small smile still on his face.
“three people huh?” you speak up again.
“i just- dont have a problem being in love with someone and not doing anything about it you know?” he shrugs like he didn’t just say something that made your heart curl up into a small ball in your chest,you cared about chris so much and you know what it feels like being in love with someone and not allowing yourself to do something about it,you try to think hard about who this woman could be because the other two women chris was in love with-he did make a move on,your frown growing with each passing second.
“oh-chris” your face fell,your hand reaches down to his lower thigh,rubbing it to console him.
“eh it’s whatever” he shrugs,his eyes plastered on your hand that is on him right now,he takes a sharp breath
“anyways” chris sighs,his eyes lower than before
“wanna smoke a joint with me?” he continues,with a smirk on his face.
a smile grows on your face,you nod.
taglist: @espressqe @ginswife @sturnsburna @carolina454 @hotgirlbl0gger @violetstxrniolo777 @riggysworld @verycoolmiyah @fadedstvrn @purpledreamertyphoon @mattsplaything @whore4chris @chris-halleluja @sl4ttformattsturniolo @annsx03 @mattsdemi @chrisslittleslut @chrislittleslut @poolover123 @luvvnai @chrissturniolossidehoe @pompomprrin @harmonysturniolo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @soph-loren @ccsturns @lovesturni0l0s @chriss-slutt @wysmols @sturniolosluttt @mattsdillion @alyssa-sturn @herewegoagain-b @bilssturns @sturnobessed @mxnsonn @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @chrissturnioloswife88 @sxphiee3 @purpledreamertyphoon @whoreforchrissturnniolo @slutformatt17 @chrissturnsss @realuvrrr @sweetxcheeryx @sturnl0ve @estellesdoll @glitterybtch @courta13 @mattsbitchh @slvtf0rchr1s
#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris imagine#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris smut#matt stuniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo texts#matt sturniolo texts#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#nic sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic
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The Not-So-Secret Secret - Liam Mairi x female reader
Summary: Liam overhears you fantasising about him
Words: 3.6K
Warnings: none
Notes: Who wouldn’t want a friendship like this with Ridoc, Sawyer and Violet??
Y/N's POV
Lunch in the Rider’s Quadrant is supposed to be a brief respite—a small break from the endless training, a moment of peace before we're thrust back into the chaos of Basgiath. But, with my friends around? Peace is a joke.
Ridoc lounges across from me, his smirk too damn infuriating as he stirs his stew with far too much amusement. Violet props her chin on her hand, watching me like I’m the star of her personal comedy show. Sawyer, the unwilling participant in all our chaos, sits next to me, sighing deeply into his cup like he already knows what’s coming.
And, of course, as always, I’m the topic of discussion.
I glance around the crowded mess hall, my eyes scanning for the familiar form of Liam. I swear, I can’t stop myself from looking for him, even though I know full well I’ll just end up making an idiot of myself when he catches me staring.
But before I can spot him, Ridoc speaks.
“You’re so obvious,” he drawls, his voice lazy but laced with far too much amusement. He taps his spoon against the edge of his bowl like he’s conducting some twisted rhythm. “It’s almost painful to watch.”
I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sawyer huffs a quiet laugh, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “You definitely do.”
Violet grins, leaning forward with that knowing look. “You want us to spell it out? Fine. You stare at Liam like he’s a godsdamned meal, you turn into a stuttering mess when he talks to you, and—oh, wait—didn’t you walk into a pole last week because he smiled at you?”
I groan, slumping forward and burying my face in my hands. “Once. That happened once.”
Ridoc snickers, not missing a beat. “You apologised to the pole.”
Sawyer shakes his head, clearly done with both of them. “You’re aware that most people just… talk to their crushes, right? Instead of ogling them like they’re about to go extinct?”
I lift my head just enough to glare at him. “First of all, I do not ogle him—”
Ridoc snorts. “Oh, babe. You do.”
Violet hums thoughtfully, a smirk playing at her lips. “I mean, to be fair, I’d ogle him too.”
Ridoc grins, his shoulder leaning back casually. “Same.”
Sawyer sighs, running a hand over his face. “I hate both of you.”
Violet nudges my foot under the table, a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re so far gone. What is it? The muscles? The whole ‘dangerous but soft-hearted protector’ thing?”
Ridoc elbows her, joining in. “Or is it the way he looks like he could pick you up and throw you onto a bed like you weigh nothing?”
I shoot them both a withering glare, but they’re not even fazed. “You both suck.”
Violet just laughs, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “I bet he’s great in bed.”
And that’s the moment that seals my fate. Without even thinking, I let out a dreamy sigh, my voice soft and full of wistful longing. “Oh, definitely.”
Sawyer’s fork hits his plate with a loud clatter, his eyes wide with shock. Ridoc and Violet exchange delighted glances, both of them far too entertained by this.
“Oh, please,” Ridoc urges, leaning forward with far too much enthusiasm. “Do go on.”
I should stop. I know I should. But the words just spill out, and I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Okay, just think about it,” I begin, my hands moving as I get more caught up in my own thoughts. “Liam’s always in control, right? He’s always calm, always watching out for everyone. But I bet when he finally lets go?” I exhale sharply. “Gods.”
Ridoc presses a hand to his heart, pretending to swoon. “This is already my favourite meal ever.”
Violet grins wider. “Go on.”
And so, I do.
“He’s so strong,” I continue, eyes wide as I gesture in excitement. “He could pin you down so easily. Hold you right where he wants you.” My voice softens, turning almost reverent. “And he would—he absolutely would. And he’s so thoughtful, you know? He’d pay attention. He’d know exactly what makes you lose control, and he’d use it against you.”
Sawyer makes a strangled noise behind me, while Ridoc actually fans himself, looking delighted.
“I bet he loves praise, too,” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s got that heroic streak—he wants to protect, wants to be good at what he does. So imagine what he’d be like in bed if you just—” I trail my fingers along the table, my breath hitching slightly. “If you just moaned his name and told him how good he was—”
Ridoc wheezes, barely able to contain his laughter.
Violet’s eyes are wide, fighting back her own amusement.
Sawyer groans, rubbing his temples like he’s in physical pain.
And that’s when my stomach drops.
I freeze, my mind going completely blank. The atmosphere shifts, and Ridoc’s laughter turns manic while Violet looks far too entertained. Sawyer—traitor that he is—won’t even look at me, staring at his plate like he’s preparing for my inevitable demise.
I slowly turn my head.
And there he is.
Liam Mairi stands right behind me, arms crossed, hazel eyes dark with something unreadable. There’s a slight flush creeping up his neck, but his lips are quirked in the faintest, most infuriating smirk.
I can’t breathe
For what feels like an eternity, there’s nothing but silence. The entire room seems to freeze, and my heart races in my chest like it’s trying to escape. I’m convinced I’ve just combusted, my soul departing from my body as the blood rushes to my ears. I feel like I'm suffocating, trapped in the crushing weight of my own humiliation.
Then, in a voice that’s far too calm, too collected, Liam says, “That’s quite the imagination you’ve got there.”
And just like that, I forget how to exist. My body goes slack, my mind blanking out in the worst possible way. I can't even form a coherent thought. It’s like the universe has decided to prank me on an existential scale.
Ridoc is the first to lose it. He collapses against the table, gasping for breath as he bursts into full-blown, wheezing laughter. I can feel the heat of embarrassment spreading across my face, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Sawyer groans in disbelief, slumping in his seat as though he's praying for an escape. And Violet? Violet just watches me with gleaming eyes, too pleased with herself as she waits to see how I handle this nightmare.
And because Liam is a menace, he steps closer. He leans in just enough that his breath ghosts over my ear, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. His voice is low, teasing, and he murmurs, “You could’ve just asked.”
I’m pretty sure I stop breathing entirely, my entire world shrinking down to that one breath, that one infuriatingly calm whisper in my ear. And then—like he didn’t just completely obliterate my existence—he straightens up, grabs an apple from the table like it's the most normal thing in the world, and walks away without another word.
I’m frozen. I don’t even know how I’m still upright. Every single neutron in my brain is fried beyond repair. The weight of my own existence crashes down on me, and I don’t know whether I want to crawl into a hole and die or just evaporate into thin air.
The silence is unbearable. It stretches on like a taut string, a physical thing, as though everyone else in the room is waiting for me to fall apart. And then—
“Oh, fuck, that was beautiful,” Ridoc gasps, still wiping actual tears from his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath. He barely manages to hold himself up, clearly on the verge of total collapse from laughter.
Sawyer exhales deeply, like he’s been holding his breath for an hour. “I think I need a cold shower after that.”
Violet is grinning like a cat that got the cream, her eyes dancing with wicked glee. “So… are you going to ask?”
I groan, burying my face in my arms on the table. This is it. My life is officially over. I’m going to die here, surrounded by the most insufferable friends in existence, right in the middle of the Rider’s Quadrant.
Ridoc is practically howling with laughter now, unable to contain himself any longer. He slides off the bench, clutching his stomach as he wheezes. Violet beams like she just orchestrated the most spectacular thing in the world. Sawyer—poor, long-suffering Sawyer—just groans, his face buried in his hands like he cannot handle the absolute chaos any longer.
Meanwhile, I am completely frozen in place, still reeling from the fact that Liam Mairi—the man I’ve been not-so-secretly fantasising about—just heard everything. And then, then, he had the audacity to whisper in my ear like he hadn't just obliterated every ounce of dignity I’ve ever had.
I am never going to recover from this.
“Holy shit,” Ridoc gasps, still on the floor, clearly out of his mind with laughter. “That was—I am deceased. Do not revive me. Let me die like this.”
Violet sighs dreamily, clearly still basking in the aftermath of the moment. “Gods, that was hot. The way he just—” She mimics Liam’s smirk, deepens her voice mockingly, “‘You could’ve just asked.’” She shudders, as though she felt it too. “I felt that.”
I groan again, shoving her arm away. “You’re not helping.”
“Oh, I never intended to.”
Ridoc finally manages to haul himself back onto the bench, though he’s still wiping tears from his eyes. “You know,” he says between fits of laughter, nudging me with his elbow, “if you want, I can go find him. Tell him you’d like to—what was it?—moan his name and tell him how good he is?”
My soul leaves my body. “Ridoc!”
He grins, unbothered. “What? I’m just being a good friend.”
“You’re the worst friend.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
Violet, still wearing that insufferable smirk, tilts her head with a knowing look. “You do realise you now have zero excuse not to make a move, right?”
I blink at her, not understanding at first. “I—what? No, I absolutely have an excuse. Multiple, actually.” I start counting them off on my fingers. “One: I’ve just suffered a public humiliation the likes of which I will never recover from. Two: I am pretty sure I’ve spontaneously developed a heart condition from that interaction alone. And three: I simply cannot face him after that.”
Sawyer groans, cutting me off with a loud exasperated sound. “For the love of all that is holy, just go after him.”
I blink, completely thrown off by his sudden urgency. “What?”
“I cannot handle any more of this,” he grumbles, dragging a hand down his face like he's dealing with something far beyond his understanding. “I love you, but I am too straight to be forced to think about another man’s dick this much.”
Ridoc cackles like a madman. “You poor, poor thing.”
Sawyer levels him with an exasperated look. “You are thriving in this chaos. I am suffering.” He gestures at me, then at Liam’s retreating figure. “And she’s just sitting here instead of chasing after him like a normal person.”
I sputter, feeling like the world is spinning around me. “Chase after him?!”
Violet hums thoughtfully, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I mean… it would be the logical next step.”
I shake my head, my voice low and shaky. “No, the logical next step is that I pretend this never happened and spend the rest of my life avoiding him—”
Sawyer cuts me off with a sharp, pained groan as he shoves me. “Go.”
“I—”
“Go.”
“I don’t—”
“If you do not get your ass up and go after him, I swear, I will personally tie you to a saddle and deliver you to him myself.”
Ridoc perks up, like he's suddenly interested. “Oh, that sounds fun.”
“Not helping!”
Violet crosses her arms, clearly not letting me off the hook. “Sawyer’s right. You have a literal invitation to make a move. Are you really going to sit here and let it go to waste?”
I groan, slumping further down onto the table. “You all suck so much.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re the worst,” Ridoc says, rolling his eyes. “Now go get your man.”
I lift my head just enough to glare at them all. “If this ends in disaster, I’m blaming all of you.”
Violet shrugs nonchalantly. “Fair.”
Sawyer gestures toward the door, clearly done with the back and forth. “Please just go before I hear one more word about Liam Mairi’s dick.”
“Don’t forget to suck his-“
I throw a one-finger salute over my shoulder, my heart already in my throat. The last thing I need is Ridoc making more of a spectacle out of this than he already has. Still, I can hear him laughing behind me, Violet trying (and failing) to stifle her giggles, and Sawyer groaning in what I can only assume is pure agony.
I try to focus, pushing past the teasing and the anxiety building in my chest. I need to find Liam. I can’t even think about the fact that he—the person I’ve been obsessing over in the most embarrassing of ways—now knows exactly how I feel. I really need to see him again to figure out if what happened was as insane as I think it was.
As I jog away from the dining hall, the crowd thinning as I round a corner, I spot him just outside. His broad shoulders are visible before anything else—impossible to miss, especially when his presence seems to take up more space than necessary. He’s standing near the stone archway, arms crossed, with that familiar soft smile playing on his lips. I stop short, heart hammering in my chest, legs feeling like they’re made of lead as I stare at him.
What the hell am I even supposed to say?
Liam’s eyes flicker toward me, his smile widening slightly, as if he’d known I’d come running after him. He leans back slightly against the archway, his posture easy and relaxed, and I feel a flutter in my chest that has nothing to do with nerves.
“You know,” he says, his voice warm and inviting, “I didn’t expect you to come after me quite like this.”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Gods, help me. Instead, I shuffle on my feet, trying desperately to act cool, but I can feel the heat creeping up my neck. It’s almost like every ounce of confidence I’ve ever had is being sucked out of me by his gaze.
He pushes off the stone with one hand, his eyes soft but teasing as they meet mine. “I didn’t think I was that irresistible.”
I wince, my blush spreading even further. “You’re not—"
Liam’s eyebrow quirks up, his lips curving into that playful smile I know so well. “Oh, really? Because Ridoc sure seemed to think you were.”
And just like that, the air in my lungs feels like it’s been replaced with stone. Ridoc’s voice echoes in my mind: “Suck his dick, huh?”
Fucking Ridoc.
“I—” I stutter, trying to force words through the haze of panic, but they’re stuck somewhere in my throat. “I don’t—I wasn’t—”
Liam steps closer, slowly, his presence gentle but unmistakable. He reaches out, his hand brushing lightly against my arm, sending a surge of warmth through me. It’s soft, almost tender, like he’s being careful with me, like he’s waiting for something. But the intensity in his gaze tells me that he’s not the least bit uncertain.
“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost teasing, “I’ve been thinking about this. And I think we’re both tired of pretending we don’t want this.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. The heat between us is building, and my mind feels hazy. His eyes flicker down to my lips, and then back up, and I swear I see a flicker of something darker in his gaze.
Before I can process what he just said, his hand moves quickly—too quickly for me to react—and he pulls me closer, his fingers wrapping around my waist. My breath catches in my chest as he draws me in, his grip firm but gentle, like he’s in control, like he knows exactly what he wants.
Then, in a move so fast it almost takes my breath away, he spins us around, his body pressing me up against the nearest wall. My hands are pinned above my head, his strong grip keeping me in place. The world seems to stop as I feel the heat of his body against mine, his breath warm on my neck.
There’s no teasing this time. No playful smirk. His face is inches from mine, his expression serious, searching. “Is this what you imagined?” he asks, his voice breathless, a hint of vulnerability behind the intensity.
I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of his words hangs in the air between us, and for a moment, all I can do is stare at him. This—this is different. This isn’t the playful Liam I know. This is something raw, something real.
The space between us crackles with heat, the air thick with anticipation, and when his lips finally crash against mine, it’s not soft or hesitant—it’s burning, desperate, and hungry. He moves with a primal need, as if he’s been waiting for this exact moment for far too long.
My breath hitches as his hands grip me, pulling me even closer, pressing my body flush against his. His lips are bruising, demanding, his kiss deep and relentless as if he wants to devour me whole. His tongue slides against mine, coaxing, urging, like he’s trying to erase every ounce of hesitation between us. I can’t think, can’t breathe—there’s nothing but him, nothing but the heat of his body and the intoxicating taste of his kiss.
I lose myself in it, my fingers tangling in his shirt as I tug him closer, needing more, deeper. His hand moves back to my wrist, pinning it above my head against the wall again, his grip tight but not painful, a reminder that he’s in control, that he’s holding me here, with him. His other hand slides down to my waist, tugging me even closer until there’s not an inch of space between us.
His lips shift, feverish, his kiss becoming more insistent, more demanding. His breath is ragged against my lips, each exhale a fire that only fuels the inferno building between us. The sensation of him, the taste of him, consumes me, and for a moment, I forget everything else—the world, the noise, the people around us.
Then, just when I think I can’t take it anymore, just when my mind is a haze of desire and need, he pulls away, his lips barely brushing mine as he pants against my face. His eyes meet mine, dark and heavy with unspoken questions.
“Is this what you imagined?” His voice is low, gravelly, the words thick with longing.
I can barely breathe, let alone form a coherent thought, but somehow, I manage to let out a shaky breath and nod, my hands trembling as I rest them on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart under my fingertips. I can still taste him on my lips, still feel the heat of him all around me. My head spins, but I can’t stop smiling. “Yeah,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath. “I think it is.”
Liam’s grin returns, wicked and slow, before he leans in again, his lips hovering just above mine. There’s something different in the way he kisses me this time—softer, more intimate, like he’s savouring every second, every breath.
But just as the world narrows down to nothing but him, just as his lips move with that same heated urgency, an unmistakable wolf-whistle pierces the air.
I freeze, every muscle in my body tensing as a familiar voice rings out through the silence, followed by another.
“Damn, Liam! Save some of that for later!” Ridoc’s voice calls out, his tone mocking but amused.
Sawyer groans in the background, dragging a cackling Ridoc and Violet behind him. The sound of their laughter cuts through the haze of heat between us, and before I can even react, Ridoc’s obnoxious whistle echoes again, followed by a loud, exaggerated "Woo!"
I pull back from Liam, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, my heart still racing from the kiss. But the moment has shattered, replaced with Ridoc’s teasing and Sawyer’s grumbling.
Liam chuckles softly, his breath still heavy, though there’s a playful glint in his eyes now. “I guess we’ll have to finish this later,” he murmurs, his voice full of promise.
I blink, disoriented, and turn my head to glare at Ridoc, my heart still pounding in my chest. "You’re a real piece of work, you know that?" I mutter, though a smile threatens to break through.
But I know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024
@caramelmacchiato07 @fanficscuziranout @daisydark @mariahoedt @marrass @honethatty12 @ladymacbabe
#Liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#Liam mairi x you#Liam mairi x y/n#Liam mairi fourth wing#fourth wing#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing Liam mairi#fourth wing Liam#Liam mairi fluff#Liam mairi smut#Liam mairi angst#Liam mairi one shot#Liam mairi imagine#fourth wing imagine
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Mydei x Reader
Imagine you and Mydei married at a young age cause "arrange marriage/marriage of convenience"(just because ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧)
Both of you come to an agreement that once you two are married, you'll make it a marriage of inconvenience, the two of you will make it everyone's problems
The two of you grow close as time went on, when he left Kremnos you follow along side
Mydei know that you and him made a vow with each other that no romantic feeling will ever be involved, and the only goal in accepting the marriage is to make it problematic to the adults who force you two
The only reason why the marriage still remains is to deter unwanted people from making unwanted advance
But Mydei just couldn't help it, even when the relationship was forced by the adults and soon later turn into a game for the two of you, the way you worry and care for him, the patient you show for him, the way you never once saw him in a bad light
You might see your relationship as something as friendship, but Mydei, he starting to see it as an actual marriage but to make it so the feelings must be mutual
Well, Mydei doesn't mind to start to court you with the whole intention to turn this long gimmick into something legit
And he is for sure won't give up easily even if you reject him
You have his whole heart wrap by your hands and he is sure to show you how much he grew to care for you more than what is expected
#hsr x reader#mydei x reader#hsr mydei x reader#honkai star rail x reader#mydei#hsr mydei#honkai star rail mydei
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Not Just Friends
Word count: 1.8k
Content: fluff
Pairing: Pazzi
Notes: I needed a break from writing smut so here's a little something about Paige and Azzi figuring out they're gay! Obviously we don't know how this happened (if it happened, but let's be honest. they play women's basketball. the odds are high.), but this is just my take on how I think those realizations would have gone. Enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think!
________
Paige was 16 when she realized that what she felt for Azzi was more than just friendship. It was August, just over a year after they had met during USA basketball. They had settled into a routine over the summer. Although they were separated by half the country, they were closer than ever.
Every evening around eight o’clock, Paige Facetimed Azzi. More often than not, Azzi picked up on the first ring and they stayed on the call until one of them (Azzi) fell asleep. Paige missed Azzi with every fiber of her being, but she knew she was lucky to talk to Azzi as much as she did. She felt lucky that Azzi wanted to talk to her as much as she did.
On one of those Facetime calls, late into the night, Paige was yapping to Azzi while the brunette struggled to keep her eyes open. Really, it wasn’t Azzi’s fault. It was nearly two in the morning and Paige hadn’t stopped talking since midnight. She had tried to annoy Azzi into staying awake for a while, but then she felt bad and let the tired girl drift off, content to provide background noise with the endless amount of stories she wanted to tell Azzi.
“And then she like, she just fuckin’ chopped it! All of it! Like a foot of hair, Az. And I was like, ‘That’s crazy,’ and she was like ‘Not all of us have emotional attachments to our hair, Paige,’ but that’s not fair. I’m not emotionally attached, I’m just picky about my gameday hair, y’know?” Paige rambled to a mostly unconscious Azzi.
“Mhm,” Azzi mumbled. Through the screen, Paige could see the way the younger girl was nestled into the pile of blankets on her bed, clutching a unicorn stuffed animal. She smiled softly.
“Anyway, she tried to tell me I should cut my hair. And obviously, I said no, because how am I gonna do gameday braids with a fucking pixie cut, right? But she just wouldn’t let up so-” Paige cut herself off when she saw Azzi’s face relax. If she really thought about it, the reason she talked so much on these calls was because she knew Azzi fell asleep easier with background noise. And if she was extra motivated by the way the younger girl looked so peaceful in her sleep, well, that was her business and no one else’s.
Paige’s eyes traced every curve, line, and crease of Azzi’s face. Her skin glowed even in the dim room, the color darker than usual from the time she’d spent in the summer sun. Paige was confident that if she had any artistic ability whatsoever she’d be able to draw Azzi perfectly from memory. The way her eyelashes rested on her cheeks with her eyes closed, the light pink tint to her nose from a little too much time outside, the curve of her plump lips- Paige had it all memorized.
Paige hated ruining these soft moments where she just got to look at Azzi without the younger girl complaining about it, but as her eyes wandered around her face a thought popped into her head.
I’ve never looked at a guy like this. Paige paused, gaze stuck on Azzi’s perfectly curved eyebrows. What an odd thing to notice. A second thought. Paige wasn’t used to thinking during these Facetimes. She didn’t think she liked it, but the ideas seemed to have opened some kind of floodgates. More observations came pouring into her subconscious.
Her lips look so soft. I wonder what they feel like. Her eyes are such a pretty shade of brown, I wish I could see them right now. I’ve never felt like this about a friend.
Paige took a deep breath, startled by her train of thought. None of the thoughts surprised her. That was the whole problem. Azzi’s eyes were pretty, and her lips did look soft, and Paige did wonder what they felt like. She just hadn’t realized she thought any of those things.
Paige thought back to a few weeks ago when one of the girls on her team had been talking about her crush on some guy in the grade above them. The things her teammate had said about that guy had sounded a lot like everything Paige was thinking about Azzi.
Oh, Paige thought. I like Azzi.
It wasn’t anything revolutionary. Paige was pretty sure she had always liked Azzi. She just hadn’t known it. It wasn’t until nearly a year later when she and Azzi finally confessed their feelings to each other that Paige thought about what liking Azzi meant for herself.
“You never came out to me!” Azzi had exclaimed. Paige had frozen, staring at Azzi and really, truly not understanding.
“Come out to you?” she repeated. Azzi nodded, eyebrows drawing together.
“Yeah, like, are you bi? Lesbian? I came out to you months ago and I’ve been thinking you’re straight since we met, P,” she explained, looking at Paige like this was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh,” Paige said dumbly. Azzi just stared at her. “Uh, I guess I didn’t really think about it. Like, the whole not being straight thing. I just know I like you,” Paige shrugged. Azzi had blushed, the color intoxicating on her skin.
“You’re an idiot,” she said, pushing Paige’s shoulder gently. Paige just grinned.
“As long as I can be your idiot.”
________
Azzi learned she was gay at three in the morning on a Thursday when she was 16. It had, in a very cliche fashion, been a dream that sparked the realization.
She had woken up, breathing hard, the blankets feeling far too hot, with memories of soft lips on hers taking up far too much space in her mind. She threw the blankets off, sitting straight up in bed, and had a full-blown gay panic.
The longer she sat there, the more pieces of the dream came back to her. At first, it was just gentle lips on her own, and then soft blonde hair running through her fingers, and then it progressed to memories of warm pale skin under her hands. Azzi squeezed her eyes shut.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” she demanded to her brain. The clock was creeping closer to four in the morning, she had to be up for school in two hours, and she was being terrorized by completely non-platonic thoughts of her best friend. Azzi flopped face-down onto her bed and let out a scream into her pillow, realizing too late that the rest of her household was still sleeping and might have heard it.
Feeling frustratingly awake and completely insane, Azzi grabbed her phone off her nightstand and navigated into a new Google tab. “What does a dream about kissing someone mean?” she searched first. The results were straightforward, bluntly informing Azzi that dreams of kissing someone usually meant that you had romantic feelings for that person. That brought up new questions.
“How to know if I like girls?” was her next search. It was a ridiculous idea to Azzi. She had had crushes on boys before. Hell, she’d dated a boy in middle school, and as much as that wasn’t a real relationship, it definitely proved that she liked guys. So why the hell was she having a dream about kissing her best friend who was a girl? It didn’t make any sense.
“Why do I want to kiss a girl if I like guys?” Azzi tried, hoping that somebody on Reddit had the same problem as she did. Shockingly, there was a result. That’s how Azzi Fudd learned about bisexuality, and suddenly things made a lot more sense.
She tried to bring it up to Paige on their nightly Facetime that day, but Paige was being frustratingly dense.
“Hey, Paige? Have you ever thought about, like, dating somebody?” Azzi started. Paige startled, looking incredibly uncomfortable.
“Uh, yeah. But not like, for real. Don’t really wanna date people because like, ew, right? Anyway, I was thinking that next year-” Azzi, feeling disproportionately upset, ended the call. Mere seconds later, her phone was ringing with another Facetime from Paige. She let it ring for a while, wanting Paige to know that she hung up on purpose. Finally, she clicked to accept the call.
“What the hell, Az? I was telling you a story,” Paige complained. Azzi glared at her.
“And I was trying to tell you something, too.” Paige looked confused.
“But you asked me a question.”
“Yeah. Have you ever heard of a leading question, dumbass? I was using it as an intro to something,” Azzi grumbled. Paige had the decency to look at least a little bit sorry.
“That’s my bad, Az. It was just kind of a weird topic. Sorry, you can tell me whatever you were going to. I won’t even interrupt this time,” Paige apologized. Azzi swallowed, losing her nerve now that the moment had been drawn out so much.
“I just… uh. I wanted to tell you that I learned about something,” she said, mouth unbearably dry. Paige nodded, prompting her to go on. “You know that people can like guys and girls?” Azzi blurted out. Paige’s eyebrows shot up, surprise coloring her face, but she nodded slowly. Azzi could feel her hands shaking. She knew Paige was religious, but she was suddenly considering that this could end negatively. She didn’t give herself time to consider that outcome.
“I’m bisexual,” Azzi said quickly. She felt like her heart might beat right out of her chest. Paige looked at her for a moment, studying her through the phone. Azzi shifted uncomfortably. “Can you say something?” She asked, tone unsure. Paige cleared her throat, expression softening. Azzi felt her body relax immediately, just from noticing the change in Paige’s body language.
“You know I’m proud of you for telling me, right?” Paige asked. Azzi blinked. That was not the response she was expecting.
“You’re… proud of me?” she repeated. Paige nodded, the movement jerky through the screen. A smile spread across Azzi’s face.
“Thanks, Paige.” Paige just nodded again, a small smile on her face now.
So, from the time Azzi had the dream of kissing Paige (the first of many) to the time she came out to the blonde, her gay crisis lasted about 16 hours. When she thought about it later, years down the road, she thought it made complete sense. Azzi overthought every single thing in her life except Paige. Realizing she was bisexual was easy because it was Paige. The girl who talked her ear off on calls every night, who sent her iMessage games at ungodly hours, who always knew how to comfort her. Just Paige. Liking Paige made perfect sense.
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call me maybe | b.eilish
billie eilish x fem!reader
context. your ex situation-ship knows how to manipulate herself back into your life, her motives however are masked by her nonchalant demeanour.
warnings. nonchalant billie, making out, confusing storyline lowk, haven’t started pt2
masterlist
- 2 years ago -
her eyes had been what captured your attention throughout the night. her gaze seemed to linger longer than it should, indicating her interest and therefore sparking curiosity in you. and something you couldn’t deny; she was gorgeous.
“where’s your friend?” her smooth voice pulled you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to your ongoing conversation.
“she ditched like twenty minutes after we got here, i haven’t seen her since.” you put it almost humorously, anticipating a full recap of her night when you’d call her in the morning.
“you’re not worried?” the girl seemed genuinely curious to know, clearly taking interest in the dynamic of your friendship, in the events of the night, in you.
“i was, the first time. i’ve gotten used to it. she’ll get home in one piece and rave about her night tomorrow morning.” she smiled at the fact you could foresee the outcome of your friend’s disappearance in the club, almost as if it were a habit.
“it’s kinda shitty that she ditched you, not a very good wingwoman. though i doubt you find it hard.” she subtly hinted at real reason behind her interest. it was easy to tell with her, there was no doubt in your mind that she’d be into girls. but you wondered if she’d assumed the same about you.
“what? like getting girls?” you’d given her the confirmation, to eliminate any uncertainty. and for a split second, you could swear you saw a small smile creep onto her lips.
“girls huh?” she put it as if she was somewhat surprised.
“what?” you questioned the look on her face.
“i just didn’t think id get that lucky.” she smirked and you felt your insides flutter.
“what do you mean?” you asked her to clarify, really just wanting her to put it into words.
“i know i just met you,” she paused for a second, pulling out her phone, “but here’s my number.” she tapped her phone against yours to transfer your contact, and you turned it on so that you could accept it.
billie eilish, that was her name.
- present -
it was her eyes that had been the main point of recognition. they were unmistakable, cold yet sultry, a perfect combination for a perfect disaster. you’d known it all too well.
“billie.” her tight lips turned upwards slightly, pleased with your greeting. after all, it had only been a few months since you’d broken things off with her. and somehow, you ended up missing her.
“babe, this is a surprise.” she never could remain serious, and you’d been grateful in the moment as it eased the awkwardness you’d been anticipating.
“yeah, i didn’t expect to see you here.” you were awfully bad at small talk, and she chuckled, likely recognising this.
“you make it sound like something bad?” she pouted dramatically and you couldn’t help smiling, blushing even.
“no, no it’s a good thing. it’s good to see you.” she bit her lip, as if pondering on a comical response.
“oh yeah? how good?” she smirked and your breath hitched.
“stop it.” you looked away from her but she reached for your face and pulled your chin up, to meet her eyes again. those fucking eyes.
“stop what?” she was grinning, a smile so wicked it made your insides burn.
“we tried, we don’t work.” your rational thoughts finally made an appearance with your confrontation.
“that’s where you’re so wrong.” her face was dangerously close to yours. her lips almost brushing yours.
“billie.” you tried to interrupt her actions, you were obviously heading in a direction you’d find difficult to navigate out of.
“shh.” she pressed her finger up to your lips, her ring resting against the skin of your chin before it disappeared, and her lips were on yours. her hips pressing against yours as the cool metal of her rings returned, resting on your neck this time.
“bil-” she didn’t let you pull away, wouldn’t let you speak. and when her hands traveled down to your ass, and her tongue met your own, you snapped back into reality.
“billie.” you were breathing heavily.
“what?” you were shaking your head, backing away from her.
“i can’t do this again.” her brows let their furrowed state and she moved to place her hands back on your figure, gently.
“sure you can. we can do it right this time.” her words were so promising you almost fell for them. but you didn’t reply, just escaping her grasp and turning away.
“where do you think you’re going, baby?” the term of endearment stung, an unpleasant twinge in your heart you couldn’t quite place.
“call me.” her smirk, dripping with confidence, aggravated you in a way no one else could. she’d leave you thinking about her for days to come, and she knew it. you could still feel her on your lips.
“maybe.” her eyebrows raised at your response, but you didn’t stay to hear her, no doubt, witty response.
taglist: @adinda-eilish @ijustlovemaths @sweetcherriexs @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @mybluebossanova @diceroll65 @tothediner @st0nerlesb0 @bilssturns @london-uhmye @bxllxebxtch @tan1shere @babybornbluenow @greenbttrflyy @asterisk-eyes
#billie eilish#billie eilish fic#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish gf#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you
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Hey there! I mostly write sci-fi and mystery novels with a lot of lore. I know they're not perfect but hope you (and li'l Tutter) or someone else you know can check them out on Wattpad if you're interested.
BIOMETRICS
A sci-fi, espionage graphic novel set in the 2030's where a lone traveling writer is entrusted to adopt four unlikely children from different parts of the world by his friend (who is the head of a secret spy organization 'BIOMETRICS') and later those kids get to be trained as spy agents in order to protect the world from being invaded by aliens known as The SECRYPHITES. The overall visuals and story may suck at first as I made this way back in college but I can assure you it starts to get better as you read along. It also has a sequel which is a lot darker and unpredictable.
TCOTRB (The Case Of The Red Bubble) and AMANDI: The Secret Messenger
Set in the 2050's Philippines when the country had just been rebuilt following a deadly storm that almost entirely wiped off the face of the map ten years ago. We follow fourteen-year-old Milo Sidaris, a socially awkward kid who spends most of his time on the Internet, who suddenly uncovers one of the country's deadly mysteries involving the deserted island known as The Capital/Red Dome which was closed off by the government in the past. Together with his new ragtag friends, they discover those who dare approach it would either disappear or be driven insane and it's up to them to figure out what exactly happened as well as who (or what) lurks beneath it. The sequel "AMANDI" continues on the events of TCOTRB five years later. Both are supposed to take inspiration from many YA stories that I once grew up with as a kid while tackling issues of poverty, immigration, discrimination and generational trauma. Also, fun fact: TCOTRB has actually been in the works when I was 12 but it's only now did I started reviving the concept. AMANDI, on the other hand, was inspired by Murder Drones, The Fiend with Twenty Faces by Edogawa Ranpo and Detective Conan.
SYNTHETIC BLUE
A rather experimental sci-fi, detective graphic novel set in the 22nd century in the fictional Blue City (which is like a place for social outcasts) where we meet twelve-year-old Jane Sandberg, the daughter of a reclusive Prime Minister and his wife, who spent most of her life locked away from the rest of the world in their mansion that stood in the middle of the woods. After running away from home and forming an unlikely friendship with two boys named Carlos "Oz" Carino (age 12) and former professional daredevil Lukas Olafsson (age 19), the trio get together to uncover the dark secrets surrounding the city and Jane's family. I actually came up with this idea of a powerful politician building a huge city in the frigid regions of Northern Sweden after being inspired by the villain from "BNA: Brand New Animal." A lot of the scenes are drawn on an iPhone. Believe it or not, I just thought of publishing a book without any outline, script or storyboard while simply going along with it. If you don't mind reading some random, whimsical story with a bit of trauma, this might be for you!
Also, my Tumblr blog is pretty random as I tend to make fandom-related stuff as that's how I get more attention as compared to my original content.
CALLING ACTIVE WRITEBLRS
Hi hello. My dashboard as been feeling sparse the last few weeks and I want to get some more writers on my feed. I made one of these a few months back that introduced me to so many new people so I'm back again to find new writers
My main genres/tropes/yada yada are:
Fantasy - Dark, High, Low stakes whatever just give me that mythical feeling and I'm yours bbg
Sci-fi - I've been trying to get more into it
Literally any romances - Slow burn, meet cute, meet ugly, they fell first they fell harder, star crossed lovers, whatever. give me it all
I'm a dragon fiend
Please interact with this so I can check out all your beautiful blogs and devour your writing. I offer you a tutter mouse for your time thank you
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cw: alcohol, throwing up bc of alcohol word count: 1068 MDNI
⁽ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵈᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉʳ ⁻ ᵃˢᵐᵒᵈᵉᵘˢ⁻ᵖˢᵈ⁾
You’re used to being on the outside, looking through glass containing delicate and well curated friendships. You’ve tried, God knows you’ve tried, to get out there, to try and befriend others, have what they have, but you’re always the ‘oh, yeah’ the afterthought, if not outright forgotten.
You live alone, with a dog that seems more interested in the food you eat rather than you yourself. You don’t have any friends, save for the one that you met online years ago, but they live in another country altogether. You know they have their own group of friends, and you’re okay with that – you’re elated for them. You know it’s hard for them to make friends, but they still seem to have an easier time than you do. It’s almost as though you’ve forgotten how to even talk to people outside of work.
In short, you’re a loner.
A loner who somehow ended up at your boss’ house for a party. You’re still trying to figure that one out. They’ve invited your coworkers, obviously, and friends of their own that they’ve curated throughout the years. You’re all close in age, there’s no awkwardness felt watching one another drink and get drunk. There’s no wincing or judgement when one has a shot, and the other sips on wine.
You’re a loner who’s plastered themself into the corner, slightly overwhelmed by both the music and the people, trying to figure out how to even talk to them. Again, that creeping feeling roars in your chest – You’ve gone and forgotten how to talk to people, haven’t you? Your brain tells you. You wince without making too much of a face, more of a shudder, as if fighting off a sudden chill when the entire house feels like it jumped up by ten degrees.
You’re a loner who’s somehow caught the attention of not one, not two, not even three, but four pairs of eyes, and you haven’t noticed how they’re all looking at you. Albeit in turns, but to them, you’re stunning, like a breath of fresh air even when it feels like you yourself are suffocating under all this noise, stuck between a wall and your coworker’s drunk boyfriend who seems to be flirting with the monstera plant next to you. You try not to laugh. You fail to suppress a giggle, which only seems to make the four pairs of eyes light up at the sight of that smile, even though it’s small, on your lips.
You’ve never been a social person – maybe that’s why you have no friends, save for the one in your pocket, living a thousand miles away. You’ve never been a social person, yet somehow you’ve managed to end up with someone’s arm around your broad shoulders, keeping you close and grounded. He smells like citrus, smells bright – explosive. His cheerful and charming smile distracting you from the insane noise that seems to have only gotten louder the more and more people drank. Your coworker’s boyfriend isn’t slick with how he throws up in the soil. Poor plant.
You’re not a social person, yet somehow you’ve managed to wrangle possibly the most prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on, in a damn ball cap no less, and he’s serving you your next drink – just a simple beer, but it’s enough for you right now. You’re too hot and flushed to be enjoying anything else, really you should be drinking water, but the way this man dotes on you, those big brown eyes of his staring at you as if you’re the only one who’s ever mattered, is making you a little dizzy. Not the alcohol, certainly not that. You’ve not nearly had enough. You’ve never had someone look at you the way he is.
You’re the least social person out there, but there’s something about the way that this man with mutton chops has his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of a crowded area of the house to someplace more open. There’s something different about that kind, quokka-like smile of his. Where one might see it as condescending, you only see it as a silent question, asking if you’re alright, waiting, patiently, almost. If you weren’t so on guard, if you weren’t so tense and uncomfortable with the amount of people here, with how rowdy these people were, people you work with, you’d be swept off your feet. Which is exactly what this man is, these men are trying to do.
You’re not a social person at all, but somehow, sitting outside with this masked stranger, this burly stoic man, is calming and slowly the conversation begins to flow easily, starting with what you do, what your average day to day is, and somehow you end up giggling at a few of his dry jokes that no one really seems to laugh at. You’re not a social person, no, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a wickedly dry sense of humour – you get his. The air might be chilly but surprisingly, you’re comfortable, warm. Seen.
You’re definitely not the most social person in the universe, yet somehow, you’re walking out of that party with four new numbers, four new names, four new friends. You’re a loner who’s walking out of that work-house-weird stupid coworker’s-boyfriend-flirted-with-and-threw-up-in-the-monstera-plant party with a big fat smile on your face, more energised walking out of it than you went in. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing at Johnny’s dumb jokes. You’re a little tipsy from the drinks Kyle made you, but also ensured you had plenty of water and something in your stomach. You still feel John’s hand on your lower back, and you can still feel Simon’s presence next to you, offering silent comfort.
You’re not the most social person out there. You’re a loner. You stay alone, live alone, cook for one, and have a small amount of dishes to clean, just for yourself. Food goes bad before you get a chance to finish it, always making more for lunches, forgetting you’re pretty much a loner.
You’re not so much that same loner anymore when you’re waking up on a lazy Sunday morning with all four of those men in your new Alaskan king-sized bed, each of them pressing lazy morning kisses to each other's heads, groggy “g’mornings”, gruff huffs at being woken up. You’re happy you’re not so much of a loner anymore.
#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#things stuffed in the drawer#cod modern warfare#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141#cod headcanons#fandom: call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#tf 141#tf141 x gn!reader
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all of it (all of you)
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader
Prompt by anon + Idea for reader's nationality by anon
Synopsis: After more than 10 years with the same hairdresser, Melissa Schemmenti must change salons.
Tag list: (Since this is my first time writing for this character, I thought it best not to tag anyone. So if you want to be tagged just let me know.)
Warning: MELISSA AND Y/N ARE MAaaaD *in Ava's voice*
Words: 4k
Synopsis of the story + Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10
Enjoy!
Link on AO3
Chapter 1 - Changes
Barbara Howard's friendship had a transformative impact on Melissa Schemmenti's personal life from the beginning.
The religious woman's friendship at the beginning of the redhead's career made the Italian woman rethink many things about herself. Regardless of their moral differences, how their individual relationships with religion are almost opposite, or even their small disagreements, one thing right at the beginning turned Melissa's world upside down.
The once chaotic and disorganized woman discovered the calming practicality of being hostage to well-established standards with a Christmas gift from her black coworker in her second year working at Abbott Elementary.
A schedule with a small calendar.
The year she received that gift, the redhead was furious with what was left written between the lines.
Disorganization.
After all, Melissa had absolutely everything under control.
She always had.
In her own way.
And Melissa also thought it was stupid to waste precious time that could be spent working by just planning to work, but after a terribly inconsistent semester (with more art, music and physical education teachers being fired than she can count on one hand), the redhead decided to give it a try.
So, 22 years ago Melissa started to use a schedule and a calendar every year faithfully and never looked back.
As she got older, the certainty of her upcoming appointments and how easy was to change what was needed on that sheet of paper to make better use of her time kept Melissa calm even during all the chaos that continued to live in her head and in her classroom every day. But everything changed when the spaces on pages that were reserved especially for her monthly visits to her family's hairdresser were now blank.
Rationally, the redhead knew that the hairdresser who had taken care of her grandmother's hair for the last twenty years of her life, two of her aunts out of town, washed and cared for her mother's hair every week, and three of her sisters periodically couldn't last long. But Melissa couldn't help but feel fooled and betrayed when Andrea Rossi announced her retirement.
The redhead hadn't been Andrea's client for her entire life, after all, the older hairdresser's regular clients had always been her priority. However, Melissa began to be part of the select group of Schemmenti women helped by Andrea when her former hairdresser (the one who had a Greek accent and many opinions that she hated but didn't discuss because he was her brother-in-law's friend), decided to call her Melinda, even after having her as a client for over three years.
Melinda.
Even though it was seventeen years ago, Barb still remembers the angry redheaded hurricane that entered the teachers’ lounge that week and still manages to make jokes about it whenever she gets the chance.
Monthly visits to the older woman had started with a simple hair color, but unlike her old hairdresser, Andrea had become much more than that for Melissa.
It was a ritual, a moment of care that for a long time brought her joy and confidence. It was talking animatedly with an Italian woman who showed her affection and care, something neither of them would admit out loud but was lacking in the Schemmenti family when it came to recognizing Melissa’s efforts and personal victories.
And now it was over.
“Ragazza (girl), don’t be like that… I’m old now, my hands hurt more than I can handle after a busy weekend,” Andrea tried to justify, stroking Melissa’s head with a tender smile as she finished coloring her hair that day, but which did not hide the weight of the decision.
“And what am I going to do now? Let the gray hair give me another 30 years in less than 6 months?”
“Don’t be silly! I’ve already transferred all my clients to hairdressers that I trust. You included! So stop it now!”
“I don’t want someone new.” Turning uncertainty into resistance is like armor for the redhead, even though she knows she has no choice, her brain still tries to break the meaning of Andrea’s retirement, “It’s going to mess up my entire schedule, Andrea! Two rooms and now with you gone? I almost went crazy with the first semester of the year alone, now I know I’ll as soon as classes start after winter break!”
“I know that, Melissa. That’s why I talked to the hairdressers I know, and the best choice for you is Y/N, my last trainee. She’s great, hard-working, very talented and was willing to easily change her own clients’ schedule to see you at the same time I see you every month, she also works just five minutes away from here. You’ll like her.”
“But I don’t know her.” Even though she didn’t admit it, the idea of a stranger touching her hair disturbed Melissa deeply, and the murmur that left her mouth made a point of emphasizing this.
The change came too quickly, and with it, a wave of anxiety took over Melissa's heart. This feeling was temporarily drowned out by her more than exhausting end-of-year routine. She was the hostess of the Schemmenti family's Thanksgiving dinner, and this, along with the end of the year, drained her ability to think about her other problems. But when the following month arrived, and along with the return to school after winter break, her colorless hair also started to show again, so Melissa swallowed her pride and went to the salon that Andrea had recommended to her.
Riverfront Roots.
The name was silly, a clear reference to the Delaware River that Melissa preferred not to think about too much as she looked at the large letters printed on the facade of the place. As soon as she entered the new salon, the smell of hair products and the sound of blow dryers buzzing caught her attention. The place was modern and well-decorated, but Melissa couldn't feel completely at ease. The smell was different, the decor was different, the voices were different, and the redhead hated each of these things.
She wasn't so reluctant to little changes in her daily life, but that week was so exhausting. The two classes together made a point of actively getting on her nerves, Gary also changed some of the lemonade brands in the vending machine and none of the new ones lived up to the taste of the old ones. The man made a point of telling the redhead that it wasn't done on purpose, thanks to the end of their relationship, and she genuinely believed him, but even so, such a change in such a tiring week only made the teacher's discomfort that Saturday morning turn into a gratuitous and deep antipathy towards the new place.
The woman of Italian descent approached the counter, where a receptionist graced her with a friendly smile.
"Hello, how can I help you today?", was the question that greeted Melissa, with a kindness that, in the redhead's mind, was completely unnecessary.
The teacher hesitated for a moment before answering sharply, ignoring the hello offered to her.
"Schemmenti. Melissa Schemmenti, please. I have a coloring booked here. A recommendation from Andrea Rossi." While the receptionist checked her information, Melissa looked around, trying to get used to the new habitat, but she barely had time to do so because, in less than thirty seconds, the receptionist escorted Melissa to a chair in front of one of the largest mirrors in the salon.
The chair that was chosen for the redhead was a little isolated from the other people present, who were laughing and talking without worrying about the noise, but if the redhead was being honest with herself, she actually preferred it that way.
“Hello, Melissa. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you. I hope you fell welcome and comfortable here with me. Andrea has told me wonderful things about you and I have her notes in my hand to make sure you leave here satisfied.”, a younger woman with a thick accent appeared out of nowhere, vomiting the words at Melissa with a smile and a sweet voice that were already starting to give the redhead a headache.
The speech seemed rehearsed, still genuine, but her voice seemed too practiced to instill comfort in the redhead. And if that wasn't enough, the younger woman was enthusiastically waving a note in her hand like a triumph, making Melissa even more insecure about Y/N's talent than she already was.
The teacher knows she's not an idiot but… This hairdresser wasn't even thirty years old. This Y/N was clearly in her early twenties, with rich hair and a quick smile that probably lit up the room more than those stupid ringlights that surrounded the chairs in that place.
Not to mention that she was beautiful. Very beautiful.
A part of Melissa, hyper-aware of her own age, felt the bitter taste of envy take over her tongue as she looked at the younger woman's reflection in the mirror in front of her, but another part, even more recklessly, awakened a dormant desire in her mind.
However, even with that spark hidden behind Melissa's eyes, their initial interaction couldn't have been worse.
Y/N seemed excited, first asking Melissa for permission to touch her hair – something the redhead almost said no to, just to see if that smile would die on her lips – but quickly the hairdresser started discussing ideas for Melissa's hair, something that forced the redhead's voice to sound cutting:
"I just dyed my hair red for years.", Melissa made sure her voice sounded as sharp as she intended, "Get those ideas out of your head and just do what Andrea use to do."
The lack of niceness caused Y/N to feel strange, but the hairdresser tried to remain calm despite the discomfort.
New clients were always a little insecure, so the Brazilian woman would just prove to the one in front of her that she had talent.
Y/N always had magical hands. When she was still a girl, on the hot afternoons in her hometown, she would have fun braiding the hair of her school friends. Long locks of hair shiny thanks to the summer sun and strands yellowed by the chemicals of several women in the city often passed through Y/N's hands as if she were an artist molding a sculpture.
Her friends loved the hairstyles she did. At first, they were not at all sophisticated due to her young age, but they were done with so much love and dedication that they always seemed to transform any hair into something unique. For Y/N, it was more than just fun.
It was a passion.
When she reached her teen years, that passion became something more serious. Y/N was not satisfied with just doing the hair of her friends and family. The Brazilian woman wanted to learn, she wanted to master the art of transforming people's hair into something even more special.
That's why when she graduated from high school, Y/N started studying, and within a few months, she was already working professionally at a salon in her city. It didn't take long for her to be recognized for the quality of her work. Her skill with scissors and dye made her quickly stand out among other professionals. She knew what she was doing, she knew how to transform people into more beautiful versions of themselves, she knew what her clients wanted and, most importantly, she knew how to make them feel good.
Little by little, Y/N began to stand out even more and her life began to change.
She knew that her talent could not be limited, and so, when some close friends who had already moved to the United States began to encourage her to try her luck in Philadelphia, Y/N was scared at first. But if the chance to start over in another country meant more opportunities, she couldn't let this pass, even if the exciting idea had the power to scare her. But even though she was frightened, she was soon embarking on a new chapter in her life in a plane.
It was hard to save money for the travel, it was hard to get all the necessary documents to enter the USA legally, it was hard to leave loyal clients behind, and it was even harder to leave her country and its traditions. But the youthfulness of her soul and the hope of a new life embraced her heart and the hairdresser decided to give herself this chance.
Wen she arrived in Philadelphia, Y/N felt, at the same time, small and full of possibilities. The city was big, the competition was powerful, and she was seen as just another foolish immigrant.
But she was determined.
The Brazilian woman knew that her skill could be the key to a promising future. She just didn’t expect that her future would be shaped by Andrea Rossi, an older and more experienced Italian hairdresser who worked at a well-known salon nearby.
The story happened by chance. One of Andrea’s regular clients mentioned that her son had gotten a haircut from a really new Brazilian hairdresser.
“It was something very different… Like those stupid things we see on TikTok, but it was exactly what James wanted, and we had never found anyone willing to do it. What this young woman did perfectly and without thinking twice, and my son loved it!”, the woman commented in admiration before giving the older woman an idea, “You should meet her!”
Andrea was curious and, figuring she had nothing to lose, asked for more information about the Brazilian woman. The client was enthusiastic and told the Italian one everything she knew and, even though she was skeptical, Andrea let her curiosity get the best of her and decided to see it for herself.
The next day, she went to the salon where Y/N was working and, observing closely, immediately noticed the young woman’s skill. The Brazilian woman had the touch of someone who knew what she was doing, an eye for beauty trends, and the needs of her clients, but she also had more than that.
Y/N had a natural connection with people, a charisma that, combined with her smile and strong accent, made any client feel at ease, and Andrea saw that.
So the Italian woman wasted no time. She called Y/N for a chat at the end of her shift and, soon, took her on as her last pupil before announcing her retirement.
Normally, hearing Andrea Rissi's name made Y/N happy. All the advice, recommendations, affection, and wisdom shared by the older woman were a pleasant memory for the Brazilian woman.
But there, while she tried in vain to be nice to what was Andrea's transfer, having her work compared to the older woman's began to annoy her.
First, the owner of those pretty green eyes began to verbalize her dissatisfaction with the work tools Y/N used, telling her how much she preferred Andrea's work tools, which were always on display for her clients to see. Then the redhead started rolling her eyes at Y/N's coworkers, who, since they had no clients, were chatting spiritedly while planning to get their nails done at the end of the day, muttering how much she would appreciate some peace and quiet.
But the first sign Y/N gave that she was definitely not the type of person who would just ignore or shrink from Melissa's bad mood was when the redhead made a point of directly comparing her work to Andrea's before Y/N even started dyeing her hair.
"Andrea, don't part my hair like that. You'll leave my hair full of spots!"
Trying to preserve the good mood she had woken up in that morning, the hairdresser chose to be sneaky and ironic. Y/N looked around theatrically and curiously, as if she was searching for something important, and Melissa, unable to contain her fear and confusion, made her voice present.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just looking for Andrea Rossi since you want to talk about her so badly.”
Receiving only silence as an answer, and thinking that the unhappy attitude of that client was over, the hairdresser continues her journey. Y/N measures the dye with all the care in the world, making sure to double-check on the scale in front of her that the weight is correct when compared to what Andrea gave her over the phone before applying the dye accurately, fearing giving Melissa another reason to complain. The Brazilian woman divides Melissa’s hair locks with the focus of a professional with much more experience, doing everything she can to not lose a single gray hair, and when she goes to wash it, she does so with a gentleness that surprises Melissa.
But the teacher doesn’t want to admit it, so she continues to stare sullenly at the mirror, even while Y/N gently untangles her wet hair.
When the redhead’s hair is nice and completely ready to be dried, Y/N looks at her hair curiously before turning once more to Melissa’s reflection in the mirror.
“I usually do this before dyeing, but what do you think about maybe cutting a few inches? The ends are starting to lose their shape.”
“I don’t want to cut anything.”, the words are said low enough for no one but the hairdresser to hear but Y/N, but with a hint of anger that surprised the young woman, “And stop talking, your voice is too annoying for the kind of mediocre work you deliver, kid.”
It was insensitive. Even to Melissa.
The redhead knows that Andrea would never send her to a bad hairdresser. She knows she is being harsh and critical to someone who gave her no reason to do so, but before she realizes it the words have already escaped her mouth.
But the teacher simply has no idea what was coming.
The hairdresser’s eyes widened, large pupils full of rage meeting the teacher’s gaze through the mirror, shocked by the words said by Melissa. And, before Melissa's mind can even work on instigating any remorseful reflexes, Y/N grabs a large chunk of hair from the redhead's bangs and takes a pair of scissors out of her pocket with her free hand, quickly placing them right on Melissa's forehead, exactly where her hair grows, like a more than concrete threat.
“Listen to me Philadelphia's beauty, I don't know what kind of hairdresser you expected when Andrea transferred you to me but as long as you sit in my chair you will respect my work and listen to my fucking suggestions.”, it is said as a whisper, but the hairdresser's anger and her thick accent along with the slight pull she gives the redhead's hair make the whole interaction sound indescribably scary, even to Melissa, “I've been nothing but polite and respectful to you, but I'm starting to regret accepting someone so unfortunate in my char that they think they can criticize my work without even knowing me.”
There, locking eyes with Y/N in the salon mirror, Melissa understood how much she had crossed the line.
Melissa took a deep breath, filled with adrenaline at the thought of losing the top part of her hair, before nodding her head, causing Y/N to put down the scissors and let go of her bangs as she returned to work normally.
And then silence.
Dead silence.
The silence between the two women was so thick that it seemed to fill every corner of the room, making the sound of the dryer and the conversations around them sound muffled and filling the air with a corrosive feeling.
The scene from minutes ago was still boiling in Melissa's mind, repeating itself like a scratched record. Now, as if Melissa had finally come to her senses, the redhead wanted to disappear. She wanted to jump out of the chair and run away from the mirror which reflected her own guilt and shame. But she couldn't. Her anxiety combined with the idea of leaving now, before the end of her service (something that could be even more disrespectful than her words), did a magnificent job holding her body in place, like an invisible chain that kept her feet on the floor and her mouth gagged.
With her fingers drumming on her apron-covered leg as the Brazilian woman prepared to style her hair, the teacher wanted to believe that it hadn't been so bad, that maybe Y/N had already forgotten what was said. But she knew that wasn't true. The weight of the moment still hung between them, thick and uncomfortable.
Y/N doesn't cut her hair or even mention the idea once again. The hairdresser just dries her red hair perfectly, but now with a serious gaze and a hurt look on her face. The Brazilian woman vehemently ignores Melissa's green eyes throughout the entire process, and the teacher stupidly decides too late that she prefers the incessant smile that remained on the hairdresser's lips minutes ago.
Melissa thought about apologizing, but the idea of speaking made her breathing quick and shallow, along with the fear of seeming too desperate.
It was then that her eyes fell on the small ceramic jar in the corner of the counter next to her chair. It was decorated with hand-painted flowers and had, in crooked but legible letters, the words: "Tips for Y/N" next to a QR code. Even with the virtual possibility of compensation, the jar was open and with a significant amount of dollars, coins, and two lollipops, which Melissa just knew had been left there by a child.
And so, an idea formed, hesitant but clear in the teacher's mind.
A good tip seemed perfect, silent, indirect, but still meaningful. As the minutes passed, anxiety whispered again in Melissa's mind, wondering if Y/N would believe that she was doing this because of the guilt she felt at that very moment and not because of the regret that was now eating her mind. But the alternative of doing nothing was simply unbearable for Melissa.
The redhead knew she couldn't leave without at least trying, even if in her own way, to make amends.
When Y/N finished applying a light-smelling oil to the teacher's hair and walked away, silently letting her know that her work was done, Melissa tried to meet the hairdresser's eyes and give her a small smile, which she knew would be nervous, but which could give her an idea of what was going on in Y/N's head.
But Y/N didn't look at Melissa.
When Melissa got up from the salon chair, her racing heart didn't stop her from taking two generous bills from her wallet — much more than she would usually give for just an appointment to dye her hair— and walking over to the pot. Her fingers were shaking slightly, but before anything could be done, she was interrupted:
“I don’t want your tip.” Before the two hundred dollars could enter the ceramic pot with the Brazilian’s name written on it, Y/N placed her own hand over the top to the object, successfully blocking Melissa from doing what she intended.
“Okay. Now you’re being ridiculous!”
With those words, the hairdresser's eyes finally focus on the green ones again, still filled with an anger that Melissa rarely sees in people who have a disagreement with her (too used to the regretful and submissive ones) and the redhead was shocked by this when Y/N actively chooses to ignore her accusation by saying:
"I'm willing to give you the exact coloring mixture that Andrea developed for your hair so you can find a hairdresser who is like the silent imitation of Andrea that you are looking for.", and before the redhead even has a chance to answer her with an apology that would apparently be necessary, the hairdresser quickly collects everything that was used in the teacher's service and directs Melissa a few more words before walking away without looking back, "Call the salon when you want the measurements and the receptionist will share them with you with pleasure. Have a good rest of your day."
#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti imagine#abbott elementary#abbott elementary fanfics#lisa ann walter#lisa ann walter x reader#lisa ann walter imagine
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Bed Chem
Daryl Dixon x F!Reader
Warnings: Suggestive content, nothing too explicit
Word Count: 3195
Setting: Alexandria, Pre-Negan
A/N: Hi guys I'm super excited about this oneeeee ! When I first started writing for Daryl I had this idea in mind and it was what inspired me to start writing again. I waited a bit to write this, I had been working it out in my head and trying to figure out where to take it but Daryl is so Bed Chem coded in my head and you can't tell me otherwise. I hope y'all like it :)))
(Moderately proofread, but I will probably still go back in and edit it later lol)
(( I made the borders :) ))
“I don't know… I think it's too much,” you said as you turned around, holding out the ends of the dress with your hands. “Girl, are you kidding? You look amazing, you have to wear it!” With an exasperated breath, you turned and looked at yourself in the full-length mirror again. You looked at Rosita in the reflection and gave her a small smile before admiring the dress again.
It was super cute, but you felt it was too much for the small party. You ran your fingers along the ruching at the neck, pinching and pulling at the buttery smooth fabric and trying to pull it up so it wasn't too low. The sheer blue baby doll dress fell to your mid-thigh and had off-the-shoulder puff sleeves high enough to show off your tattoos. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the bow at the center of the neckline before facing the girls again. “Okay fine.”
Maggie and Rosita quietly squealed in excitement at your defeat. “You guys look so pretty,” You marveled at your two friends. “Thanks to you! I had no idea you were hiding these gems in your closet.” Maggie said with a wink.
It may have been dumb, but you had a thing for collecting cute dresses while out on runs. You knew that they would likely never get worn, but you kept them tucked away in the back of your closet in hopes that one day the world would be normal enough that a situation would arise where you could finally wear them. This was kinda one of those situations.
Alexandria had been your ‘home’ for the past two years. You had stumbled upon Aaron while searching for a new campsite, and ever since then you had been happy to call yourself an ‘Alexandrian’. Life had been pretty normal, nothing like it used to be, but normal enough. Until Rick’s group arrived.
Something about these people felt different, you could just tell they had been through it. They all seemed pretty unsure at first, not wanting to trust that this place could be real. But slowly, they began to let their walls down and accept that this was a safe place. Well, as safe as it could be.
It was Deanna’s idea to have this little party. Although the newcomers had been settling in, it was still very obvious that there was a divide. In hopes of blurring that line, Deanna suggested that we throw a party. Her thinking was that if we all got together and had a good time, we would feel more ‘unified’ as a people. You had been trying on your own to make friends with the newcomers, and Maggie and Rosita were the most receptive to your attempts at friendship.
You had been hanging out with them for about a week now, and anyone who didn’t know you guys would have thought you had been friends since birth. Something about the two girls just resonated with you, you understood each other in ways that the others couldn't. So you were more than happy to share your small collection of dresses with them when the party was announced.
“What are we waiting for, let's go!” Maggie announced, and the three of you did final looks in the mirror before walking over to Deanna’s house.
The house was more packed than you had ever seen it before. The three of you squeezed your way in and found a spot in the far corner of the living room. Soft music was playing over the speakers as everyone mingled. It warmed your heart to see everyone finally opening up, and you hoped that this would lead to strong bonds between the two groups.
“I’m gonna go find Abraham,” Rosita said, leaning in before continuing “Show off my cute dress.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I gotta go find Glenn too, see what he thinks of mine,” Maggie said with a smile. “I have a feeling you guys won't be at this party much longer…” You said, laughing. “We’ll be sure to come find you before we leave,” Rosita replied, giving you a playful shove. “You sure you’re okay on your own for a bit?” You looked over to Maggie, rolling your eyes. “Guys, I'll be fine, you go have fun! I’m gonna get a drink” The three of you gave each other small waves as you went your separate ways.
You made your way over to the makeshift bar, waving and saying small hellos to the people you passed. The options were limited, but you grabbed a bottle of cheap champagne and some orange juice to make yourself a mimosa. Taking a sip, you turned around to go look for Aaron, but as you turned you bumped into someone. The stranger reached out and grabbed your shoulder to help steady you before you fell. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!”
The stranger let his hand linger on your shoulder for a second before he seemed to realize what he was doing. He swiftly removed his hand and took a step back, grunting “S’fine.” You didn’t recognize this man. He definitely wasn’t from Alexandria, you would have recognized him. But you didn’t recognize him from Rick’s group either. The man rubbed the back of his neck with his hand while looking down at his shoes, he seemed a bit shy. “Are you from Rick’s group? I haven't seen you around…” He hesitantly made eye contact with you and nodded. “Yea.”
He had a certain aura to him that left you needing to know more. He was handsome, in a rugged way. Not usually the type of guy that you would have gone for in the old world, but you couldn't help admiring this man. He had a sharp jawline, long dark brown locks, and the most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen. His sleeveless jacket showed off his tanned arms that were muscular, but not in an overwhelming way. You never liked guys that were too muscular. And not to mention his accent, god the few words you heard from his thick southern drawl began to make your head buzz.
You were about to ask him his name when you heard Aaron from the end of the bar, “Hey man! You get lost?” Both you and the stranger looked over to Aaron, and he gestured for the man to come over. Aaron noticed you and said, “Oh sorry, am I interrupting something?” You smiled at him, “No not at all!”
The stranger turned and gave you a small smile and a nod before walking over to Aaron. As he walked away, you were brushed by his scent. Pine, smoke, and sweat lingered in a cloud around you for a few seconds before it finally dissipated. You watched him walking away for a moment before your senses returned to you and you realized you never got his name.
“Wait, what's your-” He was too far away to hear you at this point. You were left in a daze, craving in the absence of his scent. You were broken from your trance when you saw Rosita walk up to the bar from the corner of your eye. Without letting him leave your sight, you tapped Rosita on the shoulder and whispered, “Hey, who’s the cute boy with the black jacket and the thick accent?” The man was out of your line of sight now, and you turned to see a confused Rosita. “Huh?” You pointed in the direction of where you last saw him, “The cute guy with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad,” you held up your arms and flexed to imply his muscular ones.
Rosita looked at you now with a dumbfounded look, she laughed a bit before saying, “ You mean, Daryl?” Suddenly, you felt a bit embarrassed. Maybe he had a girlfriend or something... “I don’t know, I guess…” You said cautiously. She laughed again, “It’s nothing… he’s just… Daryl?” She looked at you and shrugged. You leaned in close and whisper-yelled “What is that supposed to mean?” She turned her attention to her drink and said nonchalantly, “I don’t know, he’s just… a little reserved. ‘Rough around the edges’ maybe?” It felt like there was something she wasn’t telling you.
“If he’s unavailable or whatever you can just tell me” Rosita looked back at you. “Honestly girl, I don't think that man is interested in like…anything.” She said, shrugging again and taking a sip of her drink. “Huh. Okay then.” Feeling a bit defeated, you took a few sips of your own drink while you and Rosita made light conversation. The rest of the night you caught yourself discreetly scanning the room, in search of Daryl.
A few days later, you were sitting on your porch, waiting for Maggie to come over after she got off her watch shift. The sun was setting, painting the houses in warm orange hues. You swayed back and forth in the rocking chair while nursing the cigarette you held between your fingers. In the distance, you could see a figure walking in your direction. As it got closer, you recognized it. It was him. You tried to work up the courage to say something, to just shout out ‘hello’ at the least, but your heart was racing and you couldn't find the courage.
When he reached the front of your house, he glanced over at you. “Hey.” He said with a small wave as he continued walking. “Hey.” You responded in a shaky voice. Before he got any further away, you took one last drag and stood up. Walking to the edge of the railing, you leaned over it and shouted, “Wait!” He slowed his pace and turned around, taking a few small steps toward you. He remained silent as he stared at you expectantly. “You uh- you never told me your name.”
He looked around briefly, almost like he couldn't believe you were talking to him. “Daryl.” Of course, you already knew that. But it was nice just to hear his voice, even if it was just for the duration of one single word. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a cheesy grin. “Well, it was nice meeting you the other night, Daryl.”
He chuckled to himself, “You too.” You might be wrong, but you could have sworn you saw his lip twitch up in the slightest. “I’m (Y/N).” You were sure you sounded a bit goofy, but the scene you found yourself in felt like something out of a movie. The burning sky set his skin aglow, softening his rough edges. Certainly, this wasn’t the Daryl Rosita was talking about?
He quietly repeated your name to himself, “(Y/N).” like he was testing the feel of it in his mouth. The way your name sounded in his drawl had you feeling out of breath. Am I really that easy? Is all it takes just for him to say my name to get me going? You felt like you were in middle school again, staring at your crush from across the lunch room, swooning over the way he opened a water bottle. Except this time, you were being acknowledged, the way he looked at you made you feel like he really saw you.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, it felt comfortable, like a warm blanket. Until you heard your name being called out in the other direction. “Hey! We still on for tonight?” You looked to your left to see Maggie approaching you, wine bottle in hand. “Yeah yeah, I was just having a smoke while I waited for you, I-” You turned back to look at Daryl, but he had already turned around and started walking away. “I just uh- You ready?” You stuttered to her, hoping she hadn’t picked up how caught off guard you were.
“Alright, spill.” You looked up from your seat on the couch to find Maggie handing you a glass as she sat down on the other end. “What?” You blurted out. She rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her wine. “Don’t be silly, (Y/N). I saw you talking to Daryl as I was walking up.” You played it off as casually as you could. “Oh, that was nothing we just-he just- we uh met the other night. At the party.” She gave you a look that told you she wasn’t fully convinced yet. “And…?” This time, you took a big sip of your glass before continuing.
“When I was getting a drink, I almost tripped and he caught me.” You looked down into your glass, swirling the blood-red liquid as if you hoped words would appear and tell you what to say. “I never got his name so…” You took another sip. “When I saw him walking by this afternoon, I stopped him and asked him.” Maggie nodded, looking off to the side in thought. “It was just…kinda weird I guess.” You felt your heart rate pick up again. “Weird, how?” You took another sip and you could feel yourself getting the slightest bit dizzy.
“Well, the way he looked at you…I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before.” You reached over to the coffee table in front of you and refilled your glass, offering the bottle to Maggie after you did so. She took it from you and topped off her own glass. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She finally looked back at you and you saw the wide smirk on her face. “Oh, it’s definitely a good thing.” The two of you burst out laughing and you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your cheeks.
3 glasses in you found yourself oversharing with Maggie. Your skin felt hot, your head light, and your cheeks warm with a tinge of pink. The two of you spilled details from past relationships and regrettable one-night stands. It wasn’t long until the conversation circled back to Daryl. “You should really talk to him.” You hid your face behind your hands, your glass long forgotten on the coffee table. “What if he thinks I’m being too forward!” You laughed at Maggie, “I wouldn’t even know what to say!”
Maggie stood up from the couch, sticking her hands out beside her to help keep balance. “You go like this,” She stumbled to you and leaned over, putting one hand on your shoulder. “Cum right on me. I mean-Camaraderie!” Maggie fell to her knees in front of you laughing harder than you had ever seen her do before. You too, could not stop the laughing fit that ensued. Leaning over with a hand on your stomach, as tears left your eyes from the force of the giggles.
You looked down at her, feigning doe eyes and now placing your hand on her shoulder. In your sweetest voice, you said, “Where are thou? Why not uponeth me?” It felt like you two laughed for hours.
After the initial high from the wine started to cool off, the two of you lounged on the couch, knees bent and facing each other. You were trying to come up with serious ways to try and get Daryl’s attention. “Don’t tell Glenn I said this, but I always thought Daryl was kinda handsome.” She tried to hide her small grin with her hand. “See! You get it!” She nodded in response. You looked at her and in a more serious tone you told her, “I bet we’d have really good bed chem.” She hummed in agreement. You started to slightly daze off as you imagined it.
“I just want him to pick me up, pull ‘em down, and turn me around” Maggie tried to bite back her chuckle. “What?” You turned back to her grinning. She narrowed her eyes and said, “I bet he talks real sweet while he’s doing bad things.” Just the thought of it had you out of breath. You groaned in frustration. Putting your head in your hands and shaking it while laughing you muttered, “I'm just manifesting that he’s oversized.” She laughed, “Honey, I don’t think you need to manifest that.” You looked over at her and groaned again, “Maggie, I think I’m obsessed.”
The next few days you were in your head about what to do. You couldn’t find the right time or place to talk to Daryl, but you knew you needed to. Every waking moment was filled with thoughts of him and it was starting to physically affect you. The most frustrating part was that you knew it would be even better than in your head. But just the fragment that you could imagine, based on how little you knew him, was better than any of your wildest fantasies.
You had decided you were going to try and talk to him today. He had been going back and forth to Hilltop for various reasons, and his absence had given you the courage to approach him before he left again today. At least if things don’t go well, I won't have to see him for a few days. You checked yourself in the mirror one more time before leaving your house.
Just as you were about to open the door, you heard a knock. You waited a few seconds so that whoever was on the other side didn’t think you had rushed to the door. Putting your hand on the cool knob you slowly turned it. The old door creaked as it swung open, and you were met with a sight you couldn’t believe was real.
Daryl stood at your doorstep, eyes locked on his shoes and hand on the back of his neck. “Oh, Hi Daryl.” You tried to contain the giddiness that was coursing through your body. “Hey uh- you free for a sec?” He slowly looked up at you and dropped his hand. “Yeah, what's up?” He looked around nervously. “I haven’t been in Alexandria a lot lately, but I wanna be.” You were stunned at this statement, what did he mean by that? “When I’m back next time, uh- was gonna see if ya wanted to um- go huntin’ together or somethin’.”
You had to shift your weight to the side of your body that was still holding onto the door handle, otherwise your knees would have fully given out. You couldn’t hide the wide grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, I would like that.” He looked up at you and gave you the smallest smile. “Are you free next week?” His smile grew wider as he said, “I am.”
Although not many words left his mouth, his eyes spoke clearly. You picked up a hint of lust, mixed with excitement and anxiety. You knew what that look meant. “I’ll see you next week then.” You spoke softly, slightly leaning your head against the door. “Yeah.” He gave you a small nod before shoving his hands in his front pockets and walking off your porch. Before he left earshot you called out, “Have a safe trip!” He looked back at you and smiled just a bit wider, before giving you a wave and walking toward the gate.
OKAY LET ME KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THOUGHT !!!!
also I feel like it's kinda maybe necessary to do a part 2 to Juno ???? lmk....
#daryl dixon#daryl posting#twd daryl#daryl#twd daryl dixon#the walking dead#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon one shot#Spotify
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