#and she pulled me out of a panic attack which no one has ever been able to do apart from one online friend..
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I should be paying my piano teacher more for providing me the extra service of free therapy.
#abel.txt#'your back is very curved. sit more confidently' 'you have to ease the tension in your hands to play more beautifully'#'i can't believe you downplayed your practice this week. you've worked hard.'#'i can tell you're nervous. i'm not angry'#'you learn very fast. i like that about you.' 'the way your brain works is very logical. i can tell you were good at mathematics.'#'your music theory is always good'#and she pulled me out of a panic attack which no one has ever been able to do apart from one online friend..#she's nice to me. she doesn't mind when i go mute.
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The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.
But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.
Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.
We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”
“Rick?”
She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”
Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.
I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.
The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.
It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.
It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”
I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.
Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.
I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.
I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.
We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.
I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.
I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.
I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.
You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.
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PG | KTH
Title: PG
Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff
Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.
But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.
Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 11,521
Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM
A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!
A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.
Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*
“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.
It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.
Well.
Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point.
Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends.
Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother.
Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out.
Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too.
For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two.
Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay.
And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him.
Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long.
Every time you could get it.
Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team.
For four years.
And then the university swim team.
For another four.
Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then.
The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would.
It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim.
Thank god for sunglasses.
“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you.
Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet?
Because oh yeah, his fucking smile.
Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong.
This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you.
It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.
As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung.
“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”
“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”
You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt.
You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that.
Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more.
With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught.
You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt.
You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.
But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.
Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart.
Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water.
You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.
You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.
Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool.
He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days.
Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun.
It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really.
Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped.
They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking.
And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that.
This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.
Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches.
He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets.
“Got any new recommendations for me PG?”
Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat.
He should dunk his head again.
You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes.
“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?”
Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him.
But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager.
“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit.
And it works like a charm.
Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.
Scratch that.
Definitely not.
“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.
Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”
“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”
No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again.
He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding.
“I’ll think about it—Fair?”
You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”
“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.
Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air.
By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend.
“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say.
Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.
“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”
“Sounds good. What about tonight?”
Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”
Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”
Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand.
He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.
“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”
You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end.
“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother.
“—What—”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction.
“—Hey wait a seco—”
Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen.
“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool.
He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel.
“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins.
“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”
“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you.
You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.
“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”
Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”
You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch.
“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”
“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”
You pause. Eyeing him directly.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wanna bet?”
Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.
As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge.
“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell.
“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims.
You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.
And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven.
It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday.
Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for.
This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids.
She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you.
Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed.
That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break.
You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?
But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you.
Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually.
He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit.
So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer.
Son of a b—
“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks.
You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close.
“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.
Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you.
You need to get off the dance floor.
Now.
Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.
Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there.
The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.
Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed.
He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends.
They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays.
His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating.
No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother.
He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall.
He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent.
He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained.
And yet.
Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot.
All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.
He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you.
But you push him away.
He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.
Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.
But he won’t.
Can’t.
All because of his darling best friend.
Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.
You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’.
So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!
He has to stop thinking about you like this.
But that only makes him want you more.
It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment.
You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air.
But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages.
He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself.
He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did.
So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.
Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist.
That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.
And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think.
Because Fourteen isn't here.
And old habits die hard.
“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt.
“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”
The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising.
A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner.
Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him.
Safe.
You’re safe.
Exhale.
“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body.
Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous.
“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years.
How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?
You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.
“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”
And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung.
This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan.
The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety.
It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions.
Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight.
You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood.
“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”
Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”
You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor.
The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment.
Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.
Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by.
It’s private.
It’s safe.
You’re safe.
You’re safe.
He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?”
The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.
“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now.
“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.
“I’ve got you,” he says.
“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth.
He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.
You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth.
“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed.
Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back.
You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.
But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it.
“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”
You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him.
“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black.
Oh you are so fucked.
“As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like.
“...Yeah...”
“I see.”
“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?
Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”
Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine.
The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point.
My Girl.
My Girl.
You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once.
Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,
“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”
The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up.
Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth.
You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips.
Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.
He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.
Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does.
“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes.
You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.
“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.
The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck.
They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows, the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing.
“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it.
More of him.
“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine.
You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.
“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it.
“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night.
“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.
It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.
His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.
The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere.
No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you.
He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone.
“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part.
It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.
“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently.
But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end.
With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.
He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.”
“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders.
It makes you smile wickedly.
“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw.
“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you.
Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick.
“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything.
Yet.
“Can you behave for that long?”
You smirk.
Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.
Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe.
You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well.
True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.
You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby.
The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need.
His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs.
It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.
Fuck.
Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae.
Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.
To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky.
Mesmerizing.
Just like the man locking his door behind you.
A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his.
He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him.
You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge.
He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat.
You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure.
One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you.
You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks.
His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips.
Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees.
The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.
You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it.
It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well.
It hasn’t been one sided.
He wants you.
Taehyung.
Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung.
Wants you.
You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.
“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving.
“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”
The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned.
He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side.
At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.
His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming.
“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess.
He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis.
His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes.
You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body.
Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again.
“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time.
And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed.
You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.
Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again.
“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”
You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it.
He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.
He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.
“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out.
He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth.
Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time.
Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents.
He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.
Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact.
“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.”
Thrust, tease, jolt, whine.
“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”
Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and delighted by his torture.
“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”
He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks.
“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.”
He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”
Tae pulls out, slow and controlled.
Blissful.
Then pushes back in, methodically.
Torturous.
Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.
Inevitable.
Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.
Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is.
One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over.
You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas.
Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well.
“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you.
“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough.
“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.
And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own.
“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.
“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless.
It’s a great move but it’s exerting.
You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone.
He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around.
He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass.
You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.
Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain.
It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance.
Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you.
It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.
“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care.
All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane.
Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be.
He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you.
Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion.
Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and drown in once another’s embrace.
You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.
Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.
“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another.
Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect.
Before consequences kick in and regrets form.
When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets.
Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning.
He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away.
Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning.
You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out.
Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”
But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies.
You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground.
“All of it. Any of it.”
There.
Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him.
You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—
“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”
You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened.
You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts.
“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself.
“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion.
It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg.
The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place.
You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move.
A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right.
An idea strikes.
Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door.
You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.
Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.
A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.
A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
Masterlist
#taehyung#kim taehyung#v#bts v#bts taehyung#bts kim taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#v smut#bts smut#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x oc#kim taehyung x reader#kim taehyung x you#kim taehyung x y/n#kim taehyung x oc#v x you#v x reader#bts imagines#bts fanfic#taehyung fanfic#taehyung imagine#bts x reader#bts x y/n#taehyung scenarios#PGos#Yoon writes
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Written in the Stars
Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1
Word Count- 4.3k
Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)
A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.
The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.
I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe.
“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.” I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amusingly.
“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”
Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and goggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car.
We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror.
After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house.
“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.
“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathy look.
“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”
Theo’s sympathetic look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”
As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.
“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”
I pull my car up to the front of the ���house” which is really just a mansion.
“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”
My brother does a look that looks like he agrees with me about him getting into trouble and nods his head in agreement. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.
“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot.
—
My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my back up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe is Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions within my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself.
Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk.
Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her. I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them.
“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black.
—-
“Y/N, can you hear me?” A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom? I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker.
“Oh thank god you’re awake!” Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.
“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?” She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat.
My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance.
“Elena, where are we?” I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together.
Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.
“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N, I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”
I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.
“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one. It’s a thing I do whenever my anxiety gets too strong, almost as a way to ground me.
Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.
“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing sleeping beauty?”
The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me on what I can see now is a couch and blocks me from the man’s view.
“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.”
I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future.
“You’re right Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?”
Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye, Elena is shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I jump backward at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go.
“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old.
“Just a taste, I’m starving.” My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us.
“Don’t touch her!” Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest.
My already shaking hand comes up to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell.
“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace.
“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?”
I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.
“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.”
I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.
“He’s here.” The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.
The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.
“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head.
“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.
“No! He wants me dead Rose,”
The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.” I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears that had unbeknownst to me had fallen on my cheeks, I’ve realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.
The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel.
“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming?” I whisper to her.
Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head.
“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore ok?”
I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 120 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is.
“What are we?” The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down.
“We’re family. Forever.”
I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals.
A loud knock startles all four of us as Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances. Our hands are still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide.
The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.” Elena comments. The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs
—
What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face. Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong. We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement has me losing my balance and falling back onto the couch.
No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible. Oh god, I'm going to throw up.
“And who is this?” A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound. Defiantly going to throw up.
“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.”
Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man opens and closes his mouth many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.
“You’re real.”
These are the first words to come out of the man’s mouth. Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once.
The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time though, “What is your name, Elskan?”
I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me.
“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.”
Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural? I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment.
“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.” I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face.
“Who did this to you?”
My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena. Which makes her flinch.
“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare was long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.
“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena who doesn’t look as surprised as she defiantly should given that this man just BIT HIMSELF.
“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.”
I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.
“Good girl, Elskan.”
Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?
Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing. Thing because I’m not sure what the actual hell is going on here.
“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry.”
Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator would circle its prey.
“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.
“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”
“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”
Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”
“I beg your forgiveness.”
The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.
“So granted.”
The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man who decapitates him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me.
“I’m going to-” Vomit spits from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me, the burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hand and hold it away from my face. For a second I thought it was Elena before Elijah’s voice came from beside me.
“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.”
I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs a fancy napkin and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted just saddened. He wraps his hand in my mind and stands me up.
“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.
“No! What about the moonstone?” She questions him.
He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”
“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”
Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”
Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, ripping it off.
“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”
In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”
“What is it doing there?”
“It’s with Kathrine.”
The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively.
“What was that?” He asks Rose.
“I don’t know.”
“Who else is in this house?’’ To which he gets the same response.
Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moved from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but never drops his hold on me.
“Up here.”
“Down Here.”
A voice call from the top and bottom of the stairs caught all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.
“Don’t let her out of your sight.” He warns her as he moves to the staircase.
A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed.
My vision is blurred for a moment as I now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway.
“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.”
The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs.
“Do we understand each other?”
“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. Wondering what the actual hell she was doing. But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move.
“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”
“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.” Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound a medal, and then a loud boom, before Elijah lets out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leave. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the wall peeling wallpaper in front of me.
A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before.
“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.
“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might take offense but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong.
“I think she’s over there.”
Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.
“What is happening Elena?”
“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”
Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.
#author#athenamikaelson#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaleson imagine#thecwshows#the originals#klaus x reader#the vampire diares imagine#theoriginalsimagines#thevampirediaries#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson#stefan x elena#stefan salvatore#damon salvatore#the vampire diaries#the originals x reader
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a habit to kick, an age old curse (s.s)
Plot | They're no longer friends unfortunately they're still soulmates.
or, you and Sebastian are now strangers but at your most vulnerable moment he picks up the pieces. Only he knows. Only he can.
Tags | angst, heartbreak, when you're too depressed to confess, sebastian and the bad bitch he pulled by being stupid, sebastian is an academic weapon if he wants to, mentions of fire torture, murder (self-defense), trauma, emotional cheating (if u squint), slight fluff as a treat, panic attack, PTSD, Anne is dead, 3k-ish of angst
[A/N: Stream 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie for full immersion.]
Quidditch Season was important for every student in Hogwarts but it was the after-parties that everyone was truly looking forward to, house pride aside.
Which is what exactly Garreth had been barred from. “I can’t believe I wasn’t given an invitation just cause I’m friends with you! I’m not even a Slytherin! And I make the best punches!”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, sighing. Even he didn’t think those pesky Ravenclaws would take their competition this seriously. It all started when he had finally decided to become an auror, after a peaceful, distraction-free year and careful deliberations from each of his professors, he was given the informal encouragement that he was one of the few students who had the potential to become a trainee to such a prestigious program. With his ever-growing physique and indisputable intellect, it would simply be a question of effort.
He just needed to be at the top of all the classes required of him. This was the tragic news for all those Ravenclaw dreams – once Sebastian had his sights on it, it was as good as his.
He hadn’t expected that their ire of him extended to his friends. Even refusing to invite them to the first party of the year that the Ravenclaw had won against the Hufflepuffs. Sebastian had half the mind to join his own House’s quidditch team even with his packed schedule just so he could wipe the floor with them. It would be worth never sleeping again.
“What do you want me to do Gar –”
“Here.”
A piece of paper hung from above him, the hand it was hanging from was connected to a face he hadn’t seen this closely in a long, long time. Even the whisper of her name in his mouth felt foreign – a tragic circumstance when a lifetime ago she had been a kindred soul.
Before he could say anything else, Garreth had already snatched the paper from in-between his eyes. “Is this – Really?!”
“The password for today’s party, try to sneak in when the ‘guards’ are smashed,” she grinned at the redhead. Then, Sebastian felt a cold blade slice through his chest (a hand suspiciously touching the spot just to check) when she looked back down at him again. “For old time’s sake.”
It took him a moment too long to realize she was talking to him too. But his tongue felt heavy and stuck, the metaphorical rug under his feet getting pulled out when he least expected it.
He nodded.
“See you around.”
He stared as she waltzes gracefully from the bustling crowd, getting roped into a hug by her boyfriend, William Frey, the bloody captain of the Ravenclaws. When he had heard about it, he couldn’t quite point out why he hated his smug, pretty face but then, using his blessed brain he got his bitter answer: they were too damn perfect together.
He was everything she deserved.
Smart, popular, kind, and comes from a good family that will be able to support her in whatever endeavors she might be up to in the future.
Not an orphaned criminal who couldn’t even save her sister.
The state of their friendship – or lack thereof – was pitiful but he knew it was for the better. Without each other in the way she can be loved by all those around her – something he has never been able to offer with his murky history that left a rubble of a man. And without her he can forget about his failures and mistakes, distract himself with as much schoolwork as he can cram in his head and never remember the times he sacrificed their friendship for his own gain only to lose it all anyways.
If he doesn’t see her then he can forget – he failed and his twin sister is dead.
A brilliant witch with a brilliant future didn’t deserve to be associated with failures.
“That was tense,” William whispered in your ears as he led you towards the courtyard. “A friend of yours?”
A flash of the lives you’ve lived with the Slytherin flashed before your eyes. Friends, what a lowly name.
You faked a smile, fighting every urge in your body to look back.
“A long time ago.”
The party was loud, no doubt the quidditch players were milking any taste of victory they have before they deal with whoever wins between the Slytherins and Gryffindor’s next week.
The music was loud, nearly pounding through the silencing charms in the walls of the common room. William at the thick in all of it, celebrating with his teammates, not forgetting to wave at you in your seat with that charming smile that usually makes you swoon.
However, it was the charmed fireworks all over the ceiling that had your heart exploding out of your chest. Flashes of nightmares at every pop.
The dark forest, the ruined castle, the ropes in your stretched out hands as Rookwoods men threw all sort of fiery spells at you as target practice.
You pinched your eyes shut, shaking your head, trying to focus on breathing.
When you were starting to get dizzy you knew it wasn’t working. You tried to push through the crowd, reach your boyfriend somehow and at least let him know what was going on but it was impossible. It was the peak of the party when everyone was too drunk to do anything but drink more and dance more. With a shuddering breath, you instead skirted around the crowd and escaped narrowly through the doors of the Ravenclaw common room.
Not even bothering with a disillusionment spell, knowing damn well all the prefects would be in the party, you ran to the nearest floo to travel to your common room.
However, even the silence and comfort of the top of the common room wasn’t enough to ground you as you stumbled straight down the cold tiles, a yelp escaping your mouth from the sting of your skin.
“Someone there?”
That voice, distant but familiar. Painfully familiar. Your eyes continue to blur as your breath hastened, your limbs too weak, and the cold floor too damn comfortable for your overheating body.
“Are you alright?” He’s closer now, at the bottom of the stairs.
No, no, no.
In your desperation, you swallowed your pride. Forgetting in the moment how humiliated you will be to be seen by the last person in your house you wanted to show this side of you.
He would take care of you.
He always takes care of you.
“Sebastian,” you could barely croak out in between your gasps. Silence followed and you whimpered, crawling down to the edge of the top of the stairs when you heard fast footsteps ascending and there he was.
“Fucking hell, what happened to you?!”
Before you could try to say anything else you were already carried in his arms, Sebastian’s panic at seeing someone that was always so shiny and untouchable on a daily basis gasping and writhing in their common room floor was something he had not prepared himself to see tonight.
He thought the worst would be drunk seniors he would have to haul up their rooms not his … not you.
Carefully, he placed you on the nearest couch, your grip in his arms painful but welcome as it grounded him and prevented him from rattling when he saw your pale face covered with sweat and tears.
“Pet, you gotta help me here, what’s going on?! What do you need?!”
His eyes plotted your face, firm hands frantically running across your body to check for any stain of blood or hints of the source of your pain. It was agonizingly intimate, especially with the knowledge of how much this has happened in the past – one of you writhing in pain, the other doing their darndest to fix it.
A shot of pain pierced your chest when you suddenly breathed in, making you cry out and crawl into his arms.
Your calming medicine – it was in your bedside table. However, it was no use, like blood was not reaching your brain and all you know to do is to just hold on to Sebastian.
“Fuck!”
In a blink, your face was buried in Sebastian’s neck, the entirety of your curled up body tightly held together by him as he sat you in his lap, arms wrapped protectively around your body. “Breathe with me,” he whispers, taking deep slow puffs and caressing your hair. “That’s it, deep breathes. Follow me, darling. Enough with your crying now, listen to my voice.”
In. Out. The clean scent of the common room, faint sweet smell of his favorite tea.
In. Out. The sweat on his skin, the cologne he had worn since the first day you met him.
In. Out. Old books, fresh parchment, thick ink, and the throbbing aroma of the Amortentia you brewed last week.
“Hey,” you could feel the sweat start to cool your skin, his rough hand worked on your cheeks as he continued to cradle you in his arms. His body relaxing with yours until you could take up air on your own. “What hap –”
“What in Merlin’s … did you do this?”
You stared up in wonder, the two of you surrounded by a large bubble, the ones you usually see when you throw a Protego, except this one continued to enclose you. Now that your panic has passed you realize you can’t hear anything else but … the sound of water?
He looked shy, rubbing the back of his neck as he settled you back on the couch. It was only then you realized that you had been in his lap this entire time. You hoped the dim light of the common room hid the embarrassment in your face. “It’s … something I’ve made. Helps me sleep at night. What you’re hearing is the sounds under the Black Lake. I’m gonna write a paper on it for Ronen, should get me a couple of points.”
Ah, his valiant academic conflict with the Ravenclaws did not escape even you. They’re going to fucking curse him in their sleep when they realize he was a lap ahead of his competition.
Now that your vision wasn’t doubling you could faintly see a golden string that connected from the bubble, straight through the tall glass window of the common room. “Sebastian, this is brilliant.”
A flare of nervousness lodged in your chest when Sebastian suddenly looked at you– the gaze that let you know that he could see right through you. He always saw right through you – you’d grown to hate it.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
He was a gentleman – always had been. It could be the fact that he had (has? is it too soon?) a sister that he was so well-versed in the heart of a lady. But aside from that – Sebastian, at some point in time, was someone who knew the most. And the gods’ honest truth is you never could hide a secret from him.
It could be the alcohol in your system or the buried instinctive nature to tell him everything back when the two of you spent late nights in the Room of Requirement and talked about everything being unearthed but you felt like being honest. Even if the boy beside you had grown into a stranger.
“I’m … remember when I got kidnapped by … and you …”
And you saved me.
Again. Always.
He was there, charging headfirst, ignoring Professor Fig’s warnings and Ominis’ pleas to wait for the Aurors in Hogsmeade. When he arrived, he saw the burn marks, bruises, and wounds all over your body and just saw red … and left red.
“The Rookwood incident?”
By the time back up had arrived the two of you were slumped on each other and surrounded by corpses, eyes blank and suspicious, desperately holding on to each other.
“The Rookwood incident,” you nodded. “What I didn’t tell you is that before you had arrived, they had been … they tied me and threw fire spells at me, that’s where I got my wounds. I never told you because –”
He was too angry. And you were too terrified of pushing your closest friend to the darkness he had been tethering on. Not that it mattered, he fell right to that cliff on his own.
“I’m sorry.”
Your eyes widened, hands shaking in front of you. “No, Seb, it’s not like tha –”
“I know you were trying to protect me. You always were,” he shook his head, now it was him who couldn’t look at you. “How many scars did I give you?”
“I healed just fine –”
“Then let me rephrase my question, “ This time, the look in his eyes terrified you. The intensity, the guilt – it was so palpable you almost want to cup his face the way you used to, to ease his cruel burden. “How many of these nightmares have I cursed you with?”
Your silence made his bitter smile grow. You don’t have to say it because he (always) knows – the worst nightmares were the ones with him in it.
“Does … does he know about it?”
You nodded, “He does. William tried to help, sent me to the best mind doctors last summer but … I’m just so tired. I’m tired of the tests, the probing in my brain – he means well, I know he does but there’s nothing those strangers can tell me that I don’t already know.”
With an understanding expression on his face, the two of you sat in silence, staring at the large windows hovering over the two of you as the deep quiet of the lake echoed in the fragile haven he had conjured up. If you close your eyes, if you forget about everything else, you could almost trick you mind that these was one of those good times.
That you’d turn and find him buried in between towers of books you had borrowed from the library and Ominis would be sleeping against the wall of the Undercroft. And then you’d catch his eyes and he would smile – a silent message between two people who didn’t need to speak to communicate – and the silence would stretch, just like this, but you would be together again.
“I could teach you.”
You raised an eyebrow and despite himself he chuckled. He didn’t have the best history with teaching you spells, after all. “This charm, I mean.”
How many cures has been shoved in your throat? How many disappointments you hid in lies that, yes the Calming Elixir cures me of such flaws. Did you need any more help? Would it fix you this time?
“It won’t fix anything but it might ..” he shrugged. “… make tomorrow easier.”
You’re terrified of him, you realize. How can someone know you so deeply without ever even realizing it? Does he know? The power he has over you? How you would’ve burned your life to the ground if he had asked for it?
Ask, you wanted to scream. Ask. Ask. Ask.
“Alright,” He seemed surprised, you smiled at the face he made. “Couldn’t hurt.”
For all his nonchalance it was a complicated charm to cast. “No, it has to be more than half a circle when you swish it –”
This was familiar. A bit more awkward and with a lot more strain but it was familiar – if all had gone well this would have been just an unremarkable day in your life. You can’t help but wonder if your burden would be lighter if he was the one helping you carry it.
You swallowed your thoughts back down, no sense in dreaming of different realities now. Because this was your life and the worst thing that could possibly happen did happen. So, you’ll take all that you can get – even if it’s just one last night pretending everything didn’t slip out of your hands.
“No, here, let me guide you,” When Sebastian was in his ‘professor mode’ as you and Ominis used to tease him for, he gets so focused on teaching that he doesn’t notice anything else, doesn’t even notice your gasp as he wrapped an arm around your back, grasping the hand with your wand and helping you trace the shape needed to cast the spell. “And the word is ‘Salus.”
Salus. Safety. Salvation.
That’s who he was. Your Sebastian. “Salus.”
On cue, a bubble surrounded the two of you once again, the white noise of the castle replaced by the deep lake’s groans. “Perfect.”
Despite the time you spend learning all sorts of complicated magic, it never takes away the quick flutter of your chest in excitement at every spell you master. “I did it!” You turned to be Sebastian but he was already looking at you.
You’ve always told him if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought Sebastian was the true heir of Slytherin. He just fits here – in the dim lights, and emerald furniture, and the coldness that emphasizes just how warm he is. “… beautiful.”
“What?” He was staring, his hooded gaze, the freckles you had always wanted to trace into constellations, the part on his lips that teases your skin with his breath.
“Your technique is beautiful.” He’s lying, you don’t catch it. Suddenly, your half-pinned hair fell apart, Sebastian having pulled away the clip holding it away from your face. “Now, lay down.”
His arms were gentle and firm as they guided you to lay across the wide couch, Sebastian having scooted down to sit on the floor, face in front of yours. He’s so close. “Sleep.”
You hope he knows, that if your sleep remains dreamless tonight and if your tomorrow is easier, it’s not because of his painfully complicated spell. Your eyes waver, the edges of your sight dimming and blurring. You feel a touch on your cheek, you try to chase it. The last thing you see is his deep brown eyes and the soft smile that had been the biggest curse he had unknowingly laid on you.
He has to know, right?
You have to tell him.
Sebastian, I’ve always – I still – I never stop –
“Hey, wake up.”
Your eyes split open, another ghost of your past in front of you. “Ominis?”
The noise slowly trickled as you became more aware, eyes shifting to you, some out of curiosity why you picked the couch as a resting place instead of your bedroom a few feet away or some that saw you in the party that held some pity, probably thinking you’re suffering the worst hangover of your life.
“William Frey is looking for you by the door,” he muttered sharply. It’s been a while since you and Ominis interacted, his tattered friendship with Sebastian extending to your own as the boy’s most loyal comrade in his pursuit of destruction. You know he lays a blame you and for that you couldn’t blame him. “Honestly, I had thought you had grown out of your foolish habit of sleeping everywhere.”
“I-I’m … sorry?”
He shook his head before turning to leave.
Had … had everything been a dream?
You looked around suspiciously, for what you weren’t quite sure. A sign? A pillow out of place that could be evidence that last night happened?
It wasn’t mere delusion, you were sure. The knowledge of the spell in your head evidence enough of the small moment you shared with an old friend last night but it would be nice to have some sort of proof. A tangible confirmation that you could keep with you as you return to your reality.
With a sigh you let your disappointment fester for a second longer, locking last night in the deepest part of your heart, one that can only be unearthed once again in your loneliest nights.
A practiced smile cements on your face, turning to the chair one last time to allow yourself one more moment of hesitation before going up the stairs.
Back to the beautiful boy who will only see the beautiful parts of you and leaving the one who gets the honor of keeping the shadows.
Inside the boy’s dormitory Sebastian stares at the stolen emerald clip on his bedside table.
#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fanfiction#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfiction
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epilogue. the ghosts that we knew
Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.
Chapter Warnings: angst, hurt and comfort, cancer, TLOU II SPOILERS, death, grief, Major Character Death, afterlife?
Notes: So we come to the end of this beautiful journey. Thank you EVERYONE for all your lovely comments and words over these past several month. I hope you don't hate me too much.
Words: 3942
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist
You walk the trail every night. Sometimes, Ellie joins you or Maria, but never Tommy. Sometimes you walk alone. You talk to Gabe still. You tell him about Carter. You tell him that you’re okay. But most often, you talk to Joel. It’s not that you loved him more, but it is different. Where Gabe drifted further away in death, you still feel Joel nearby like he’s watching over you. You wonder if Gabe saw Joel coming. Maybe he stepped back so you could have someone next to you.
You tell Joel about your day and how the kids are growing. You pull his smile, the feel of his hand in yours, out of the recesses of your mind, so close to the surface, it's almost tangible. You tell him that you miss him. It takes years, but eventually, you tell him that you’re okay.
Ellie spends more time with you at the house. She walks with you to take Carter and Willa to school. She comes over for dinner most nights. Together, you tell your favorite Joel stories over dinner. Carter chimes in from time to time. Willa listens for every drop she can glean of the fading figure in her young mind.
The kids are asleep when Ellie has her first panic attack. The clattering of pots falling to the floor does it. You hold her through it. Your hands aren’t able to fix this one. She sleeps next to you on Joel’s side of the bed that night. It still smells like him.
It’s a month after Joel’s burial when Tommy comes fumbling in late to your weekly family dinners. He has a lead on the girl who did it. Tension seeps through your bones. You don’t have the same taste for revenge. The idea is bitter in your mouth.
There’s a lot of shouting. Maria tells Tommy no. That part is clear, but you see the guilt seep through him. He knows he’s not responsible for Joel’s death, but he can’t let it go. It’s no surprise when Maria knocks on your door the next morning that Tommy is gone. Ellie and Dina ride out that morning. Jesse follows suit soon after.
The familiar fog of grief creeps at the corners of your mind. You can’t let it overtake you this time. You have the kids. Tommy and Ellie’s absence makes it harder, but you push through. You want to do more than just survive. You can almost hear Joel cheering you on.
You throw yourself into motherhood and training your apprentices. At night, you cry yourself to sleep. Maria and Elias spend more time at your house than theirs. You never say it out loud, but both of you start to wonder if your family unit which was once 8 has dwindled to 5.
A weight lifts off your chest when Ellie bursts into the clinic. You pull her into a suffocating hug and then inspect her for injuries. There are many, but she’s going to be okay. Tommy’s leg is another story. It’s been too long since he sustained the injury. He’ll walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Dina’s shoulder injury is miraculously not infected, but it’s the subtle swell of her abdomen that makes you lose your breath.
You’re able to find a strong heartbeat with the doppler. Dina and Ellie share a relieved look. You want to ask but restrain yourself. Ellie will tell you when you need to know.
You don’t ask where Jesse is.
Your family dinners resume. Your family table is back to 8 since Dina joined with the ever-growing promise of 9. You know Tommy is still searching for leads on Abby. You pray he never finds them. Things between him and Maria aren’t good. Ellie says she’s done seeking her out.
Ellie spends a lot of her free time riding outside the wall. You don’t ask questions. Joel liked to wander too. Sometimes she shares about the things she saw, but oftentimes she just shares a knowing grin with Dina. There’s a twinge in your heart. You used to do the same with Joel.
Autumn is in the air when you finally open Joel’s drawers. Maria hasn’t said anything about Joel’s clothes, but you know you need to go through them, distribute what’s wearable to people who need it. It still smells like him. Tears spring in your eyes. It’s been so long that you have started to forget it. Closing your eyes, you can feel him next to you, behind you, in front. He’s all around. His soft voice echoes deep within your brain almost like he’s whispering in your ear. The tears fall in steady streams.
You save 2 shirts, one for Carter and one for Willa. Ellie has his watch, and you have the kids. The rest of his shirts and jeans go into the box. Then you clean out his sock drawer, checking each for holes, which most of them have. A small smirk crosses your face. You and Sarah used to do the laundry. His socks always had holes then too. Some things never change. You pull two socks apart, and something flashes in the light before hitting the floor with a soft ping. You toss the socks into the box, feeling around for the item. You find it just under the dresser.
You hold the thin, gold band in your palm. It feels so delicate in your hands. Diamond chips encrust half of the band, shimmering in the light. Your eyes water again. It slips on with just enough resistance that it won’t slip off: a perfect fit. How long did he have this? Was he going to give it to you?
Yes. It whispers in your bones.
Not as a proposal, you know that, but a sign of his commitment. You slip it back off. Something doesn’t sit right about wearing it on your finger for the whole world to see. You want to keep this between you and Joel for a little while.
You open up the box on your dresser. It contains your wedding band, untouched since you placed it there years ago, a few pairs of earrings, and the gold chain your dad gave you the day you graduated nursing school. You slide the ring onto the chain. It rests underneath your shirt, near your heart.
You give Maria the box to distribute. You don’t tell her about the ring. It stays tucked under your shirt.
The night of Joel’s birthday, you reach for the last of the coffee beans pushed in the back of the cupboard. There’s something therapeutic about the movements- grinding the beans and boiling the water.
When you open the cupboard, the owl mug sits at the forefront. You freeze. You don’t know how it got there. It’s stayed pushed to the back since his death, but it makes you hold your breath. You despised that thing so much, but now you reach for it, filing it with coffee.
“Make enough for two?” Ellie says.
You spin around to find her sitting at the kitchen table. You smile weakly. “I can make it stretch.”
You know her disdain for it but say nothing, filling a second mug for her. The two of you sit in silence, steaming cups of coffee in front of you until Ellie gives up trying to choke it down. She pours the remainder of her mug into yours. You chuff, smile tipping your lips.
“I don’t know how that old man drank this shit.”
“Yeah, this isn’t great, but you know Joel.”
“Never saw him turn down a cup of coffee.”
“No, I don’t think he ever did.” You take another sip of coffee, eyes watering with unshed tears.
Ellie invites you to join her on a ride one day. You take her up on the offer. You ride side by side for most of the trek. It’s apparent she’s taking you somewhere.
“Ever been out this way?”
“Joel used to pull me out of Jackson from time to time. We spent time in the wildflower fields. Bugged the hell out of the council.” You laugh.
Ellie smiles. “And before?”
“I never got so far past this side of Jackson.”
“Something new to see,” Ellie says, excitedly then hesitates slightly. “Joel took me to a museum once for my birthday. They had a dinosaur and a space exhibit. He tracked down an old tape from one of the rocket launches. It was one of the best days of my life.”
“I remember when he found the museum. He couldn’t stop talking about how excited he was to show you.” you smile at the memory. “He talked about that day a lot. It was one of his favorites.”
Ellie pulls her horse to a stop and you follow suit. “He was really good at that, making sure there were good days.”
“He was.”
“I’m not sure how many good days are left for me in Jackson.”
Your heart skips a beat as you push down the panic rising in your chest. You can’t lose another person. “Oh?”
“Dina and I… we’ve been talking about what we want after the baby is born.”
You try to focus on her words, not the ringing in your ears. “Is that why you brought me out here?”
“I wanted to show you.” Ellie grins, kicking her horse forward.
You furrow your brow following after her. Your questions are answered as you burst into a clearing. An old farmhouse comes into view. It appears to be in relatively good condition. A partial fence circles widely around the property. It’s new.
You look over at Ellie who wears a look of pride and ownership over the small estate. “You did this?”
Ellie nods. “Dina and I are gonna move after the baby is born. I’ve been working to get the fence finished and the inside livable”
Tears prickle at the back of your eyes. There aren’t words for how you feel. You’re sad that Ellie won’t be across the street anymore, but you’re proud of her for carving out her own space in this world. She’s not far, you remind yourself. There’s something else about it tugging in your soul. Joel would love this place.
“You and Carter and Willa can come visit us anytime,” Elie says as if she can read your thoughts.
“Ellie, it’s amazing.”
She looks relieved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod. “Now show me inside.”
The sun is setting as the settlement walls fade into view. You two spent too long at The Farm, you know it, but you hadn’t seen Ellie’s eyes light up like that in a long time. She is bouncing off the walls. It’s good to be out from behind the city walls.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Of course.”
“It’s just... ” Ellie bristles. “You’ve been quiet since we left.”
“Sorry, I’ve just been thinking.”
“Oh.”
You let it settle over the two of you for a while. “Joel always talked about finding a farm nearby. Getting out of the walls.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I did a shitty job of training other people to do my job. I didn’t feel like I could leave.”
Ellie nods.
“I asked him what kind of farm he wanted.” You smile at the memory. “He always said-”
“Sheep.” Ellie finishes. “Because they’re quiet and do what they’re told.”
You laugh. “Exactly.”
You’re back within the walls of Jackson as the sun dips behind the mountains. You walk down the streets side by side in silence. Ellie turns for her house.
“Ellie, I’m proud of you.” She stops in her tracks and turns around. Lights from the house sparkle off her eyes. “I don’t know if that means a lot coming from me-”
You’re cut off when she collides into your chest, arms squeezing you tight. You squeeze back. “Thank you.” It’s soft on her voice.
JJ is a few months old when Ellie and Dina move out to The Farm. You go out to visit them occasionally, sometimes with the kids and sometimes not. The first time you go alone, the wildflowers are in bloom. You take a 15-minute pitstop to collect yourself when you first spot them. You leave The Farm early to walk through the same wildflowers Joel used to take you to.
The breeze plays in your loose hair. You slip off your boots and let your toes curl into the unkempt ground. You see Joel’s smile in the Prairie Fire, hear his laugh in the Columbine.
Here, the familiar whisper behind your ear says.
You still wear the ring on your chain. It feels warm under your shirt. Unclasping it, you let the gold band fall into your palm. You slip the ring on your finger for the first time since you found it, and it stays there.
You pick a bouquet of wildflowers. They sit on your kitchen table for a week, and it feels like Joel hand-delivered them. Willa stares at them with her head cocked to the side, chin resting on the table. The tilt of her head reminds you of Joel. She has his soft curls that gather right at the bottom of her neck. The wonderment in her eyes reminds you of Sarah. You can’t help but kiss her head, let your fingers trail through her hair. His rings sparkles on your finger under the sun streaming through the window. You wonder if she feels the same draw toward the flowers that her dad did.
Willa smiles up at you. “Feels nice, mommy.” His Little Wildflower. She’s growing like a weed.
Carter struggles. He doesn’t talk. He spends most of his days in his bedroom. Joel always found a way to get him to talk, to smile. He may be the spitting image of his father- but it’s clear he got your temperament- your way of handling his feelings.
You take him to The Farm, just the two of you. He helps in the barn, rolls around with the sheep, and walks the fence line with Ellie for hours. You hear him laugh while you hold JJ on the front porch. Even though they don’t share blood with him, you see bits of Joel in both their mannerisms. They learned how to interact with the world from him.
Carter is excited when they get back. Ellie is going to teach him how to shoot next time you visit. You swallow back tears. Joel promised to teach him once he turned 10. Carter talks your ear off the whole way home.
Tommy still looks for leads on Abby. You pray he never finds one. Things between him and Maria are tense. Elias spends a lot of time at your house. Your worst fears are realized when Maria bangs on your front door at 6 am one morning. Tommy’s found a lead. He’s going to talk to Ellie.
You tear into Tommy in the middle of the street when he gets back that evening. “What the fuck are you thinking!?”
He brushes you off. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Like hell you are! How dare you bring Ellie back into this!” You’re a mama bear, fiercely protecting her cub. “You fucking asshole! Do you know how hard she’s worked to be okay?”
“She wants justice just as bad as I do!” You’re sure the whole town is watching from their windows, but you don’t care.
“This isn’t justice! It’s revenge!” You can’t push back the tears that come. Your family table can’t grow smaller. You can’t lose Tommy too. “Where does it fucking end? With us all in the ground? He wouldn’t have wanted this!”
“How can you say that?” Tommy gets in your face. It’s a scare tactic you’ve seen him use before. You don’t flinch. “That bitch took him from us! She made us slide that knife into his heart. She deserves it- and worse!”
“You will not drag my children into this, Tommy!”
“Did you really love him? Or was it all just-”
Your hand collides with his cheek before he can finish. “How dare you!” You’re shaking with rage. Tommy holds his cheek in his hand. “Joel would’ve wanted you here with your wife and son! He would’ve wanted us to keep having family dinners, and holidays together! He would’ve wanted us to live! Not just survive! I’m trying to live, Tommy! Because going back into survival would kill me! And it’ll do the same to Ellie!”
“If she doesn’t go, I go.” Tommy walks away.
You ride out to The Farm the next morning. Dina looks relieved when you climb the front porch stairs. Ellie is in her drawing room. She’s added more portraits since you were here last. They’re mostly Dina and JJ, but there’s one of Carter from his last visit, Willa from behind, Joel with his guitar on the porch, playing catch with Carter, dancing with Willa. All as clear as pictures. It hits you how much she observed, took in even when she looked in from a distance. The last one steals your breath for a minute. Two silhouettes dance on a front porch.
You have to swallow back the emotions before you speak. “I know Tommy was here yesterday.”
And then she cries in your arms. You brush her hair away from her face as she does. You make out limited information. The panic attacks keep coming. She can’t make them stop. She thinks this will make them stop. Your hands, so used to healing, feel useless.
With her head in your lap, she looks like that 14 year old girl you met years ago. “It’s not your fault, Ellie.”
She looks up at you through bloodshot eyes. “He would’ve never killed that doctor if it wasn’t for me.”
I would do it all again. It comes through so tangible. You repeat it to her. You tell her it’s not her fault. You tell her that Joel learned to live again because of her. You want the same thing for her. Don’t let vengeance overtake her. You want her to live life how it’s meant to be lived, not the violent cycle it’s turned into. Joel wants her to live.
Ellie stays on the farm with Dina and their son. She comes to see you in Jackson more often. All three of them do. The two of you talk about the day Joel died and what she saw. She finds out what helps her get through the panic attacks. It’s not easy, but they start to come less frequently.
Tommy goes after Abby. You feel like you lose another piece of Joel as his figure disappears into the tree line. You hold Maria as she cries. No one sees her cry but you. The roles are reversed, but you know how to give her support and comfort. You learned from the best.
I’m still here, Darlin. You have all of me.
You hear nothing from or of Tommy for months. It turns into years. Maria blames herself. She told him to not come back. Elias is getting into trouble at school. You’re all shocked when Tommy returns two years later. He moves into Joel’s house across the street. He never found her.
Maria and Tommy coexist. They both join family dinners. They co-parent Elias well, but they don’t reunite.
Life isn’t always easy, but you make it through, all of you. Most importantly, you experience life. The ups and downs, the twists and the turns, and you do it together because you’re family.
It’s the morning of Willa’s 16th birthday when you find it. A lump in your breast. Just 1 from what you can tell. You comb your mind for any other signs. None that you can recall. Maybe it’s benign. You push back the memories of your grandmother’s battle with breast cancer, but the tears still emerge.
I’ve got you. You swear you can almost feel Joel’s arms around you.
You don’t tell anyone. You spend more time outside the walls. You’ve trained up several people to provide medical care. Morgan can suture better than you. Sharon has steadier hands. Willa is already an expert herbalist, growing and cultivating medicinal herbs and plants. If something happens to you, Jackson will still have good medical care.
Joel seems closer than ever these days, like the veil between worlds is thinning. Sometimes you swear you see a flicker of him like a mirage in the wildflowers, or in the corner when the whole family is together. You were never sure what you thought about higher powers and the afterlife, but you’re sure there’s something there.
You find another lump two years later. A third shows up soon after. You start to notice other changes in your body. You’re tiring easier.
You’re more intentional about the time you spend with the kids. You make sure they know the stories they can’t remember. Carter teaches you how to shoot a bow. Willa teaches you about all the herbs in her greenhouse. You spend whole weeks at The Farm. It’s the end of summer when you know you have to start telling people. You tell Ellie while the two of you watch the sunset from the porch swing. She hugs you. There are tears, but there's peace to them.
You faint while on a walk with Maria at the start of September. You tell her, and then you tell the kids. It’s one of the hardest things you have to do. Even at 21 year old, Carter goes to stone as Willa cries in your arms.
You’re confined to your bed by Christmas. You sleep most of the day. Everyone comes for Christmas. Carter carries your shrinking frame to the couch. There’s laughter and jokes. You notice Maria’s hand in Tommy’s, but you don’t ask.
Joel catches your eye from the corner. He looks younger. In his early 40s or so, you think. He smiles at you. He’s never been so clear. He’s waiting for you.
You stop eating after Christmas. Your thoughts start to feel disjointed, words scratch at your throat and you can’t push them out. Breathing takes all your energy. Willa has extracted opium from poppies. It helps. You hear their voices filter in. Willa, Carter, Ellie, Dina, Maria, JJ, and finally Tommy. They talk to you, but you can’t respond. They reminisce. It brings comfort to you as you feel their voices slipping away until you can’t hear them anymore. It’s dark and silent.
When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by bright clear skies. The wind rustles through the wildflowers around you. A bird chirps in the distance. You stretch out your legs with the delectable sensation only available after a sun soaked nap.
You close your eyes again, you can see Jackson. Willa and Carter are bickering about something. They walk your evening path. Willa is giving Carter a hard time about his latest romantic encounter. You can see The Farm. Dina and Ellie sit on the front porch. JJ is doing his chores. It all feels so close, but you feel separate. You can see it all happening, walk through it with just a thought, but you can’t interact with the world.
There’s a deep chuckle in your ear. You turn your head. Joel lays next to you, a smile on his face. His hair is less gray than last time you saw him. The creases around his eyes aren’t as deep.
His hand touches yours. It’s warm. You’ve passed to the other side of the veil. Your heart leaps.
“Hey Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you.”
Tag List: @pedrotonin@amyispxnk@joeldjarin@ilovepedro@justagalwhowrites
@missladym1981@jessthebaker@annieispunk@ashleyfilm@moel-jiller
@eloquentdreamer@lizzie-cakes@hiroikegawa
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#woman (joel miller)#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#tlou hbo#ppcu fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro stories#pedrostories
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could you write Leighton Murray having big panics attacks.
She has a lots of problems on top of being terrified of coming out so one day when she's in maths or something. She feels disconnected from herself and goes into a panic attack ♡
Hurt comfort angst
I got you
You didn’t know Leighton all too well, you were in the same math class and shared some other classes. In addition to that, you knew Kimberly from Econ which meant that you saw her every now and then. At some point you had to do some assignment together in math and ever since then you’ve been sitting next to each other. But believe it or not, Leighton wasn’t really someone who talked a lot about her private life. Plus she was actually a really good student, always on top of everything, following the lecture, and she solved most problems Before Most of the others even understood the question.
That was exactly why you were so confused when the blonde came in late, dark bags under her eyes and she was clearly unfocused. Your Supposition was Confirmed when the prof called her out but she only stared ahead. You felt her leg shake against yours and you could see her eyes stare ahead. As someone who could also deal with being anxious you knew these symptoms. While you knew how hard it could be to do anything during those moments you didn’t want her to loose her high standards in this class. So you carefully slid your iPad towards her and pinched her side. She jumped slightly, her head slowly turning to you before you Inconspicuously pointed to the solution.
“That’s right Leighton” the prof ignored the woman’s weird behavior. You guessed that it was since she was normally on top of the class.
“You good?” You asked the blonde as her leg shook harder but you didn’t get an answer. Your eyes switched between the clock and the girl as you tried to figure out what to do. There was class for another half an hour and pulling her out would be weird but you knew how bad these things could get. When you felt her breath speed up you started to panic too. You searched through your bag to find anything that might help.
To your surprise you even found two things that could help. You pulled out your ice cold water and pressed it to her leg which slowly pulled her back before taking out two tissues and scrunching them up against your nose. Your head went back up and your hand shot up. “Yes Mrs. Y/l/n?”
“I’m sorry my nose is bleeding, may I go to the restrooms?” You asked, your other hand still pushing the bottle against Leightons leg. When the prof nodded you added, “Is it okay if Mrs. Murray joins me? I may need another hand” he again nodded and you grabbed the blondes hand to pull her out of the room. Once the door closed you made sure to get her to fresh air behind the building. It was rather secluded so nobody would see her.
“Can you breathe for me Leighton? You’re going into a panic attack darling” you took her hand and placed it on your chest so she could feel you breathe and copy it. It worked a bit as she started to calm down. “Is it okay if I hug you?” You questioned gently, making sure to give her the space to deny.
As soon as she gave you the okay you hugged her. She relaxed into you, her breath slowing down and her leg stopped shaking. “Do you wanna talk about what scared you that bad?” Your voice was soft, something that Leighton always appreciated about you.
“I don’t know” she hesitated, life was being really hard on her at the moment and even though she was pretty sure that you weren’t going to judge she wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk it. You stayed silent, your hand rubbing over her arm to signal her that you were there for her. “I… I am gay” she just busted out, avoiding any eye contact she could have with you.
Which was bad cause she didn't see the smile forming on your lips. Truth be told, you already had a guess that she was as you saw her check you out several times but you didn't know anything for sure. And as someone who was gay themself you knew how hard coming out could be. “Leighton, that is great. Is this what stressed you out so badly?” you asked, looking down at her.
“Yes… and no. It's also Nico who cheated on Maya his long-time girlfriend with Kimberly and broke both their hearts and my stupid community service at the women's center and the whole Kappa thing. It's just I always thought college life was this easy and chill life but it's kinda crushing me at the moment” she explained as she played with the rings on her hand. You chuckled lightly when she was done explaining which made her glare at you.
“Maybe college life isn't easy because you let everybody else decide over your life,” you said, keeping your advice short hoping that she'd explain it to herself but the look she gave you was a clear no. “Why is the thing with Nico stressing you out?”
“Because he hurt Kimberly… and everybody tells me that that was really bad of him and shit but like, I'm not him. I can't do anything about it” She sighed and her shoulders slumped even further.
“Exactly. You can't do anything about it; you didn't know. So don't let that stress you out; instead, focus on helping Kimberly and Maya” She gave you a nod, and you could see that she was still thinking about what you just said. “So why kappa?” you continued.
“Well, my mom was in it, and it is obviously the first step to a particular lifestyle. It's necessary, and I don't want to disappoint my mom.” you nodded along as she talked, acting as if you understood the whole kappa and lifestyle thing.
“Leighton, kappa should be happy to have someone like you. Someone as lovely and caring is hard to find, and if you're just yourself, I can't think of a reason why they wouldn't take you. But if, for some absurd reason, they don't want you, your mom wouldn't be disappointed or mad. She'd love you the same,” you reassured her. The blonde didn't immediately answer; instead, she just stared at her shoes; it was evident that she was dissociating again. You took the cold water bottle out of your bag again, but this time, you opened it and carefully put it in her hand, urging her to drink something as tears brimmed her eyes.
Once she was back with you, you decided just to cut the topic that was probably scarring her the most. “And what makes you so scared to come out?” you questioned, shaking your head when she tried to give you back the bottle.
“I… I like myself. I don't want it to change how people see me and how I act. People will immediately treat me differently and I don't want that!” she explained and you understood where she was coming from. Being treated differently was also what used to scare you.
“I get that. I used to feel the same way, but I realized it can only affect my image and how people see me if I let it. I came out by making out with a girl at a frat party, and from then on, I was incredibly persistent in acting the same. If people wanted to talk about my sexuality, we could, but I made sure that we did it once, and then the topic was done. And you have such a great personality and style that I don't think this could change you.” You grinned at her and nudged her shoulder with yours making her smile at you
“Thank you, you're good at this, and you're so much more understanding than…” she hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should tell you that she's been seeing someone. “Than Alicia” she finished, watching your eyebrows raise and your face fall a bit.
“Alicia, like women's center Alicia?” you asked, nodding when she gave you a yes. “That's... Unexpected.” You had to keep your face in check as your heart broke over the fact that she had a girlfriend.
“Yeah, I know. And for someone who works at a women's center, she's really bad at this, she keeps trying to get me to come out” the blonde asked as she turned to you. Your face turned into an annoyed and angry one at what she just said.
“Don't ever let anyone pressure you into coming out. That's literally the worst thing one can do, and I hope she knows that. You come out when you are ready, not when she wants you to, okay?” you had your hands on her shoulders, ensuring she was listening to you.
“ But if it really hurts her when I'm closeted?”
“Then she shouldn't have committed to this relationship, Leighton. You deserve someone who supports and loves you unconditionally, and honestly, I don't think that Alicia is that person. But I'm here for you if you believe she is.” This time, you avoided eye contact, missing the blonde's heart eyes. She just leaned back into you until you could see her eyes close due to exhaustion.
You smiled slightly before nudging her. “Come on, I'll walk you back to your dorm. You should rest a bit. Panic attacks can be quiet exhausting.” you pulled her up by her hand and grabbed her bag. You took the emptiest road back to her dorm as she looked less styled than usual and you didn't want any rumors.
“Thank you for everything, y/n,” Leighton said as she leaned against the doorway. She didn't want to part ways, but she was too tired to ask you to come inside. The smile you sent her made her heart flutter a bit shocking herself.
“No problem. Here, give me your phone.” She handed you her phone and you quickly typed in your number, saving yourself with a 💕 behind it. You couldn’t wait for Alicia to see your name in her girls phone. “Now go to sleep okay? Text me when you’re awake so I can check up on you” you hugged her and put her bag down in the living room before exiting.
You couldn’t wait for the next couple of days to unfold, getting the girl of your dreams and finally getting back at someone who clearly deserved it.
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How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 5
Previous Ao3
To say that Danny was panicking was the understatement of the century. Panicking was too light of a word for what he was feeling. It was more like catastrophizing. Honestly he thought he felt true panic and horror when his parents the Fentons caught and vivisected him as Phantom a few weeks earlier. Yet standing outside of the operating room with Ellie’s core in it he realizes that it wasn’t even close to what he was feeling right now. The feeling of her melting in his arms wasn’t something he would ever forget, no matter how hard he tries.
Panic wasn’t the only thing he was feeling at that moment either. Guilt clung to him like Johnny’s shadow clung to him. All he could think is that he should have noticed something sooner. That if he had done his rounds of making sure the Fruitloop wasn’t being loopy instead of healing that this wouldn’t have happened. Even with his internal voice, that sounded a lot like Jazz, telling him otherwise. It would tell him that the only one at fault here was the Fruitloop and that he couldn’t blame himself for taking care of himself. If he had done his rounds in that state his insides would have just fallen out. But his core would just scream louder. He had failed his Obsession of Protection and it wouldn’t let him forget that.
“Great One,” Frostbite says, entering the room while simultaneously gaining Danny’s attention.
“Frostbite!” Danny exclaimed, rushing to the yeti, “How is she? Is she-is she going to make it?”
Frostbite gives the young king a soft smile, “Young Ellie will make it but,” Frostbite frowns, “there are some complications.
Danny gulps, shakingly asking, “What kind of complications?”
The tribe leader pulled out a photo from the folder in his claws.
“This,” Frostbite began, “is Ellie’s core.”
The photo Frostbite presented showed a glowing sphere with a large crack going through it.
“As you can see her core has been cracked. This is due to the large psychological damage that Plasmius caused and Spectra amplified.
“The psychological damage?” Danny questions, “Like how my vivisection scar is taking longer to heal than normal because of how it affected me mentally?”
The ice giant nodded solemnly. “We are beings of emotion. Our physical forms are a projection of how we mentally see ourselves. It is one of the reasons it is so hard to damage us with just physical attacks. On the other hand mental and emotional attacks affect us much more, to the point that we assume physical wounds that can take much longer to heal. It is one of the reasons that ghosts like Spectra are so dangerous.”
Danny’s face falls, “Then what does that mean for starlight?”
Frostbite frowns, “It means a lot of things but most preventingly it will affect her age and need for a parent bond.
“Age? Parent bond?” Danny echoes.
“As you know, young Ellie’s physical age is different from her actual age due to Plasmius’ experiments. When one retreats into their core it is for protection and when they reform it is either to their ‘true’ form or one for protection. This will be two-fold for young Ellie. To protect her she will reform in her ‘true’ form which will be closer to her actual age.”
“How in the Ancients is being younger protect you?!” Danny asked incredulously.
“Parents,” Frostbite replied patiently.
Seeing that Danny was still confused by his explanation Frostbite continued, “The main way young are protected is through their parents. Being a young child will bring potential parents to protect them from threats by appealing to their protective instinct.”
“It is also likely that the young one will mentally regress her memories.”
Danny asks with a scratchy voice, “She will lose her memories?”
“Yes and no. She will likely repress her memories to protect herself but will regain them in time when she will better be able to handle them.”
Danny stuffs his face in his hands, trying to push away the tears and feeling of failure. That this was all his fault. If he had been smarter, faster then-
“Great One?”
Danny takes a breath he doesn’t need and tries to focus on the task at hand.
“I’m fine. Just tell me what I can do to help.”
The yeti frowns but abides by the young king’s request.
“A parent bond forms in two ways, blood or, most commonly in the Realms, adoption. For young Ellie I would suggest you being the one to form the bond as you are related by blood and already have a strong bond.”
Danny stills, shocked. He had never really considered himself for the position with his age. But the more he thought about it the more he liked the option. There weren’t many he would trust with starlight, so why not do it himself. Not to mention if he is Ellie’s parent he can help her integrate in both the living and infinite Realms. He would have to leave the Fenton house, it wouldn’t be safe for her. He was already planning on getting emancipation anyway with the help of Jazz after they caught him as Phantom. He would just have to speed up the process. Oh! And he would need to get a job! Not to mention the paperwork and a safe place to stay. There was so much to be done!
“Wait,” Danny says, coming to a realization, “What does Ellie think of this?”
As much as Danny would love to adopt Ellie right then and there, the most important thing was what Ellie wanted. He wasn’t going to take that choice away, especially not with what just happened with the Fruitloop.
“For any bond to form the relationship must be recuperated. As such even though young Ellie won’t be corporal she will have a choice to accept or reject the bond,” Frostbite replied.
Danny straightens, “Then I’ll do it.”
To be continued . . .
Next
Note: Please tell me what you think! Hearing what you guys think of my writing gives me ideas of what to write. And remember constructive criticism is welcome as long as it is that, constructive.
#danny phantom#dcu#dcxdp#dp + dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#ghost king danny#danielle “danni” phantom is called ellie#danielle “danni” phantom#danni phantom#ellie phantom#danny fenton adopts ellie#frostbite#adoption au
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HELLO CUTIE PIE 🤭😜💜, imma hit you up with a Prince Caspian Req 🤞🗣 Ben Barnes has been my obsession lately. Sooo, you know that scene when Caspian is attacked in the night, but he's already escaping? Ok, so what if he's sleeping with his wife when he's awoken, and refuses to leave without her. Maybe once they are out of the castle, a guard tries to get her and he is all just heroic and handsome and sexy and beautiful and daddy and saves her? PLEASE AND TY. CHANGE WHATEVER U WANT
new life
the kingdom of dreams | warnings : none? | a/n : i didn’t add the heroic part i’m sorry pookie i just cba😭 | tags : @knight-of-flowerss , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom
Caspian and you slept soundly, unaware of the events which will occur.
He was amidst a dream, one he dreamt every night, when suddenly a cold hand clasped across his mouth, jolting him awake.
Caspian soon calmed once he realised who it was and rolled his eyes, about to turn on his side. "Five more minutes."
"You won't be watching the stars tonight, my prince. Come, we must hurry." The professor grabbed hold of Caspian's wrist and lifted him up.
"What about Y/n?" Panic laced his voice as he let the man drag him about his bedroom.
"You must leave your lady wife, my prince, we must get you out quickly."
"No!" Caspian pulled back his arm and moved to wake you.
"Y/n, you must wake. The soldiers are coming for us."
You were blissfully asleep, until you awoke to Caspian frantically shaking you.
"My love, what is going on?" You were a bit disoriented as your sleep was deep, but the panic in his eyes was what woke you fully.
"Caspian. What's going on." You said sternly.
"I-I don't-" He was interrupted by the professor.
"Your aunt, she's...she's had a son. Now come, through here." The man led you through a secret passageway through your wardrobe, wasting no time to make your way down the stairs into the armory room.
Caspian grabbed a sword and other protective gear.
Just because you were a woman doesn't mean that you weren't trained in at least one form of combat.
Caspian specialised in swords, but you were a skilled archer.
So you picked up a bow and arrow and you all made your way to the horses.
All of you had decided that it was too dangerous to take two horses, so you sat behind Caspian.
"You must make for the woods."
"The woods?" You questioned.
"They won't follow you there." The professor then pulled out a mysterious object. "It has taken me many years to find this, only use it when needed."
"Will we ever see you again?" Caspian's voice was full of hope, but you didn't have the heart to tell him that you probably wouldn't.
"I dearly hope so, my prince. There is so much more I meant to tell you. Everything you know is about to change."
You and the Professor shared a look before you wrapped your arms tightly around Caspian's waist, setting off to hopefully start a new life.
#narnia x reader#narnia#prince caspian x reader#prince caspian#prince caspian x you#ben barnes x reader#ben barnes#ben barnes x you#ben barnes x y/n
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Rage, rage | three
index
Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: heavy injures, description of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, bad language, english not being my first language
They look at each other, adrenaline boiling and screaming in everyone's veins. Nimue doesn't take her eyes off Rhysand, but she feels everyone looking at her.
She feels naked, unprotected.
She blinks to get used to all that light. She had never seen so much light and it's beautiful.
Her senses come to life as she lets go of Rhysand's hand, which she had unknowingly been clinging to. She breathes over and over, trying to calm herself, but involuntarily she begins to tremble.
What has she done, what has she done, what has she done.
Father is going to kill her.
Amidst her frenzy of thoughts, Rhysand starts barking orders. She doesn't hear them well, only scattered words: healer, help, house.
Nimue glimpses a huge house to her right, and realizes she has brought them all to the courtyard of a mansion. Around her, everyone seems to spring into action.
The blonde female runs into the house, and seconds later comes out accompanied by another woman, shorter and slighter. She can't tell if she's fae or a creature. When Nimue and her lock eyes, it's like they're looking in a mirror. Both frown but decide to ignore each other.
For Nimue, it's as if everything is happening in slow motion: when she wants to realize, there's another person there, attending to the two injured Ilyrian. A glow emanates from her hands, its warmth reaching the princess's face. A healer, she supposes. She had never seen one.
She fights against her own panic, trying to get used to all the hustle and bustle and all those sounds. The birds flying above her head, the sunlight, the smell of the sea, the smell of pine and cedar, the voices around her, the poor Ilyrian screaming in pain...
She lowers her gaze, and without thinking, she starts speaking: "I can help."
Everyone looks at her again, judging her. They scan her from head to toe.
The two females who were thrown into the Cauldron are to her left, crying and hugging the one who was with Rhysand. Are they sisters? They looked so much alike...
"I can help," she repeats, this time firmer. She starts walking and sees how Rhysand prepares to attack her, "I can heal both of them, if you let me."
She analyzes the High Lord's face, and sees how little by little he is giving in. No one articulates any words, with a simple nod of the male's head, he grants her permission. He has nothing more to lose.
She kneels beside the one with the shattered wings and begins to do what she does with herself and the wounds she has ever suffered: with her magic, she grasps every little nerve ending, every small piece of skin. She pulls them and threads them, weaves them, joins them and separates them as if making a tapestry. So little by little, she shapes the wings of that Ilyrian. It's all pure instinct, what her nature dictates to her.
Father always told her she was his Goddess of Destruction, but Nimue knew deep down that she was capable of fixing, of healing, of bringin good to the world.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, she was piece by piece, shred by shred, joining and repairing the broken wings of that male. When she reached the bones, she simply imagined how they should have originally been: she ordered them to return to their form, to be soldered, and they obediently complied.
With a final grunt from the male, Nimue finished her work. But before she could get up, he grabbed her arm:
"Thank you," he whispered. Nimue is stunned. Thank you?
Had anyone ever thanked her for anything? Had anyone shown her gratitude?
No, her real doubt wasn't that. Had she ever done anything worthy of others' gratitude?
She swallowed her fear and terror, kneeling on the ground. She watched as the male limped away from her and enveloped the blonde female in a hug, how he squeezed her tightly as they both cried on each other's shoulders.
She was so, so lost. Where was she? What was happening around her?
"What a miracle of a girl," the healer whispered. Standing between Rhysand and the slighter female, the more aged-looking woman never took her eyes off her, "You are a Cauldron's blessing. When you're done, I'll need you to teach me how you do that. You are a–"
"Silence, Madja," Rhysand's voice resonates under her feet and in the very mountain, as if he had spoken those words inside Nimue's skull. She shrinks, intimidated. That's the power of a High Lord, "Now him. Heal him.”
She looks away from Rhysand and sets her gaze on the last remaining male.
Kneeling on the ground beneath him is a pool of his own blood and something that seems to be shadows, moving frenetically back and forth. She had never seen anything like it, those... beings, moving around the man. Nimue hears faint noises that she can't quite understand.
Behind her, she feels a presence moving. Rhysand looks down at her, those violet eyes so deep that Nimue feels hypnotized, "Don't just stand there gaping and do what you did to Cassian. Now. Or I'll cut off your head, you filthy Hybern rat."
She nods, and when she turns back to the winged male, he looks back at her. His amber eyes follow every small movement she makes: from the slight tremble of her lower lip to the way she raises her hand.
When he tries to speak, a trickle of blood runs down his lip to his chin, "Touch me and I'll cut off your hands, traitor."
Nimue trembles.
What the hell is she doing? Where has she gotten herself into?
Before she knows it, two streaks of water run down her cheeks. Is she crying? She had never cried before, what a strange sensation.
Her gaze travels to the hands of the male in front of her. He grips a beautiful black dagger, its tip directly aimed at Nimue's chest.
She swallows hard and, in a quick motion, grabs the arrow he has lodged in his chest and pulls it out with all her strength. She has been so fast that the male collapses forward, falling on top of her.
Rhysand and the healer, Madja, take care of getting him off her, and when Nimue tries to touch him again, the High Lord growls at her, "I told you to heal him, not to open up the damn hole in his chest further."
By pure instinct, Nimue snarls back at him, "I am healing him, you idiot. Back off."
Where she found the courage, she doesn't know. But they obey her, and she gets back to work.
The male is lying on his back on the ground, and Nimue places her hand on his chest, where the arrow was previously lodged. She begins to weave again, slowly, thread by thread.
Her gaze rests on his face, which, with closed eyes, lets out the occasional groan between his teeth.
Azriel feels like his chest is on fire. He feels the edges of the wound burning, he feels combustion from within. He takes gulps of air as he struggles not to lose consciousness, and blinded by the pain, he reaches his hand into the air and grabs onto the first thing he finds.
Nimue startles when his hand grabs her elbow, but she lets it be, the touch of his glove is a new, pleasant, and different sensation. She looks back at his face, and in a low voice, she speaks to him, "I'm almost done. Just making sure there's no trace of the poison that the arrow was coated with."
Azriel lets out a growl. He couldn't care less about the explanations. He just wants it to be over already.
The pain reaches the core of his bones and he opens his eyes abruptly, looking at the girl in front of him.
What is that?
Around her, he sees a thread, a small golden rope encircling her: it descends down her shoulders and arms, caresses her wrists and fingers, and wherever her skin meets his, he sees how the thread enters his own body.
Is he hallucinating?
Hasn't he had enough with the arrow between his ribs, that now the poison is making him hallucinate?
Behind the girl, he sees Rhysand, Amren, Cassian, Mor, even damn Madja. He sees how in slow motion their brows furrow, he sees how they lean forward, looking puzzled at something that makes Azriel scared.
"What's going on?" he asks agitated. He tries to sit up on his elbows, but although the pain has already diminished, it still doesn't let him breathe properly, "What are you all looking at like that?"
Nimue furrows her brows as she pushes the man back to the ground so he stays still. She frowns, as she begins to feel something on her fingertips...
Something is not right.
The sensation travels up her forearm and shoulder, and settles in her chest. There inside, like a caged bird, that sensation starts tumbling, back and forth, faster and faster.
She removes her hand from the man's chest and he sits up in front of her, like a spring.
Azriel feels like he's going to explode. What has that witch put inside him? What kind of magic has she used on him?
"What the hell have you done to me?" he shouts. Azriel brings a hand to his chest when that pressure keeps growing.
Nimue mimics him, feeling like her chest is going to burst.
What has she done? Has she made a mistake? Perhaps her magic has betrayed her now for the first time...
She's hyperventilating, and when she feels that, indeed, she's going to explode like a firework, she looks into the eyes of the male in front of her.
And then everything suddenly calms down.
They stare at each other, stunned, not knowing what to say. Their breaths come together, equally fast and choppy.
And when their bodies stop vibrating and calm down, she feels it there.
There's something, something pulling her towards...
Towards him.
Azriel jumps to his feet, as if they hadn't just removed a poisoned arrow from his chest or he hadn't just lost liters and liters of blood. He finds Truth Teller in its usual place and with a practiced motion after years and years of battles, he grabs the girl by the collar of her clothes and lifts her up like a feather. The dagger rests comfortably against her neck, and she does nothing but look back at him, wide-eyed.
"Azriel!" Rhysand shouts. He ignores his High Lord, although every fiber of his being tells him to obey him, "Azriel, let her go!"
Then, Nimue comes to her senses. With a practiced movement, the winged male is kneeling on the ground again. The pretty black dagger is now in her hand, while with the other she pulls back his hair.
Azriel doesn't know when all this happened. He just knows that he blinked and now he's the prey. He clings to the girl's hand pulling his hair and tries to break free, but he can't understand how such a small woman can have the strength of a thousand men.
"Now I'm going to let go of you and you're not going to attack me. Understood?" She utters each word slowly, as if speaking in another language.
Nimue takes a step back, releasing the dagger, which falls to the ground with a dull thud.
Azriel stands up, and in a leap, he's next to Rhysand in an attack position.
Before Nimue, everyone present is on high alert. Some in attack position, others simply ready for whatever may happen.
The first to speak is Azriel, with the same accusatory tone as before, "What have you done to me? Undo it." He's trembling, and Nimue can't tell if it's from fear or from the pure rage she sees in his face.
Even if she wanted to, she couldn't undo it, because she herself doesn't know what has happened.
What is that pulling her? What is that feeling in her chest, an anchor dragging her toward that winged male?
Everyone remains silent, looking at each other.
However, it's Rhysand who speaks first, the voice of reason in a desperate situation, "Let's all calm down."
Because he doesn't know if he's the only one who sees it, who feels it. That sudden change in the air. It smells like cedar and mist, like Azriel. But if he pays attention, he smells the sea salt and the sweetness of poison in the air. The scent that the girl in front of them emits. It's intoxicating and chilling at the same time. He couldn't say.
What he can say, however, is what he sees crystal clear. Azriel's essence, mixed with that of the unknown girl. He sees how both mingle in the air.
And then, Rhysand would swear that he stopped hearing Azriel's heartbeat next to him.
"My mate," his friend whispers. His face, a complete expression of surprise, something that the Shadow Singer rarely showed, "She's my mate.”
Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @donttellthecats
A/N:I really hope you are all enjoying it. Every kind of support is greatly appreciated, and thank you so much to those who already support it!! If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know 🥰
#azriel x you#azriel x oc#azriel imagine#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#acotar#rhysand#cassian#azriel fanfic#azriel fic
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Agatha X fem! Reader that has a sexual trauma, like avoid sex and is afraid she lose Agatha for fon't have sex, please?
Help You
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader
Word Count: 1087
Warnings: A little bit of angst, fluffy, talks of sexual assault, Soft Agatha, Panic attack.
Pt 2
A/n: This was a nice little fluffy one to write. I loved having Agatha so sweet and caring. Hopefully you like it.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
The only sounds that could be heard in the room is heavy breathing as your breath mingles with Agatha. You’re sitting in her lap as the two of you make out. Agatha leans back in connecting your lips once again as her hands grip your hips. She nibbles your lip causing you to gasp into her mouth giving her the chance to slip her tongue back into your mouth. You moan into her mouth as she takes dominance over you, moving your hips on her lap.
You have been dating Agatha for the past 4 months. The furthest you have ever gone with the older woman is making out. Always stopping her before it goes too far. She has been patient with you but you're scared that her patience is running out and soon she will leave you.
Agatha’s lips move to start kissing your neck and the grip on your hips tightening. Panic starts to rise in you as she continues. Your breathing picks up. “A-Agatha.” You try to get her attention but she keeps kissing your neck sucking harshly. Your hands start to shake. “Agatha.” Your words come out more frantic, but she still doesn’t notice your panic. You can feel tears starting to run down your cheeks. “A-Agatha please s-stop. Stop, I-I can’t.” The panic rises further as your whole body shakes. Flashbacks of your past flash in your mind.
Agatha finally stops pulling away with concern in her eyes. She now sees the frantic look in your eyes and the tears streaming down your cheeks. Her hands cup your cheeks, having you look at her, but you're looking right through her. “Sweetheart.” Her voice is soft. She has never seen you like this. You don’t speak and you’re breathing fast. “Baby please.” Agatha’s voice laced with concern.
This finally snaps you out of your thoughts, your eyes blink and look at her. “I-I’m sorry.” You whimper. Agatha shakes her head. “Breathe with me baby.” She has you mimic her breathing. In a short time your breathing returns to normal and your tears stop. Agatha smiles softly at you as you calm down.
The room is silent, Agatha’s hands never leaving your face. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Agatha asks you. You shake your head. “You're going to leave me. Which I understand. I’m broken.” You whisper and look down. Agatha’s hands drop to your sides and gently rubs in a soothing motion. “You're not broken baby. I just want to know how I can help? Please let me help.” You want to tell her but you shake your head again. “Please look at me Y/n.” You slowly raise your gaze to the woman. She is smiling at you, still gently rubbing. “I love you.” She pecks your lips. “I-I love you too.”
You let out a shaky breath before you speak. “I was assaulted a-and I haven’t been able to, to you know since.” Some tears slip down your cheeks. You don’t like to talk about what happened to you but you know you would have to tell her at some point. One of her hands moves to cup your cheek again, wiping the tears away. “Oh baby girl I’m so sorry.” You can’t help how you nuzzle into her hand as she gently tries to comfort you. “What can I do to help you?” Agatha asks you. “Y-You don’t wanna leave me?” You ask her. She shakes her head still smiling at you. “I love you sweetheart and I can see a life with you. I want to help you.” You're shocked by her words. You feel the same way but you expected her to run like everyone else. “What if I never want to have sex?” You ask her. “I don’t care about that. As long as I have you that is all that matters to me.”
Since the start of this you're finally crying happy tears. She accepts you for you and you never expected to find anyone that would accept you. She kisses you again and pours all of her love for you into a single kiss. She pulls back leaning her forehead against yours. “I love you so much.” Your heart swells more the more she reassures you. “I love you too.”
“Can I ask you something?” Agatha asks you which you pull back and nod your head wanting her to continue. “Have you gone to therapy? I’m not asking because I want to fix you in any way but I think it could help you.” You look down at her words and shake your head. She hooks her finger under your chin and makes you look back at her. “Would you consider it?” She continues. You contemplate her question. You hadn’t thought about it. Still scared to relieve what happened to you all those years ago but you understand where she is coming from. You give a small nod. “I think so.” Agatha beams at you and pulls you closer to her. “I’m proud of you baby girl. I will be here with you every step of the way. Even if you never want sex I will still be here with you.” You smile and lay your head on her chest as her arms wrap around you tightly.
“I’m sorry I never told you. I was scared of you leaving. Being disgusted with me.” You mumble. If she could Agatha’s hold on your tightens. “None of it was your fault. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice anything wrong. I’m just glad you talked to me now.” She kisses the top of your head. “Thank you.” You look up kissing just under her chin. Agatha smiles at your gentle kiss. “No need to thank me baby girl. I am here for you. I love you and always will.”
You never expected for someone to want to stick around with you. Not to think that you were disgusting and broken. Someone who doesn’t want to fix you but to help you even if it won’t bring you closer to having sex. You are hopeful that you will eventually let her in fully and be ready. The first time that you have felt that you would ever want to in the future. Hopeful that therapy will move you close to that. This wasn’t what you expect of the day or even at the start of this event but you are thankful and ready for what the future holds for you and the love of your life.
#agatha x fem reader#agatha harkness fanfic#agatha x reader#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness fluff#agatha harkness x female reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness x reader fluff
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Can I request jade west x fem reader where reader has a panic attack and jade helps her
Panic attack
Jade west x fem!reader
Warnings: hurt/comfort, panic attacks, bullies, Jade being a soft protective girlfriend, talks of violence
You were at your locker sorting through some of your things when you heard a couple of footsteps behind you. When you turned around you saw that it was Ashley and her two friends beside her. Ashley has been bullying you since kindergarten and you never understood why. You were hoping she would just go away, no one knows you are dating Jade west. Jade asked you to be her girlfriend about two months ago and the rest is history. It’s not that y’all aren’t affectionate in front of people, they just don’t seem to pay attention.
“Hey. Four eyes! Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Ashley yelled as she grabbed your shoulder and yanked you around so you are facing her. “W-what do you want a-Ashley.” You whimpered out as her friends smirked at Ashley’s actions and your response. “Oh nothing. I just like tormenting you all the time.” She smirked evilly at me while her friends laughed along. Your heart started to beat faster and you felt your breath gone shallow. Ashley grabbed the front of my shirt and slapped me so hard that she knocked off my glasses.
A few seconds later and Ashley was pulled off of me and her friends were laying on the ground groaning. Jade pushed her against the lockers and looked dead into her soul. “If you ever touch, go near, BREATHE her air again. I will take my scissors and take your eyeballs out slowly while I rip off your limbs.” She threatened to Ashley in her low scary voice as Ashley nodded her head in rapid speed. Jade smirked and slammed her head against the lockers one more time for good measure and let her go. Ashley and her friends scurried off pissing their pace as Jade put her focus back on me and she frowned.
She didn’t say anything but have a sad look on her face as she gently cups your cheeks in her hands and inspected your face. She then realized you were having a panic attack and sat you down on the floor as she kneels in front of you. “Hey hey baby breath. I’m right here. It’s okay angel.” Jade said softly as she takes your hand and puts it on her heart while her other hand goes on top of your chest where your heart is. “What’s five things you can see babygirl.” Jade asked as you tried to look around you. “I-I see you…the lockers…I-I see a water fountain…I-I see p-people walking around..a-and I s-see the front doors o-of the s-school.” You said breathlessly.
“Good girl. Now. What’s four things you can touch?” Jade said and you gently put your other hand on top of the floor. “The floor…you…my face…my clothes…a-and your clothes.” You breathed out as your heart started to beat normally now. “Okay now three things you can hear.” She said as you closed your eyes and focuses your attention on what you could hear. “I can h-hear me breathing…I can hear you talks and o-other people talking.” You stuttered out as you opened your eyes to look back at your girlfriend. “What’s two things you can smell?” She asked and you sniffled a bit. “I can smell the bad cafeteria food and I can smell your minty gum.” You said with a small smile as your girlfriend laughed loudly. “Good baby good. Now this is the last one okay? What’s one thing you can taste?” She asked.
You decided to be smart about it and hopefully make your girlfriend laugh. “My salvia.” You said bluntly and Jade rolled her eyes at you while having a small smile plastered on her face which made you giggle. She realized you didn’t have your glasses on and immediately looks on the ground for them. She spotted them a few inches away from y’all and bends down and grabs them. She gently puts them on your face and you reach up to fix them. “Thank you…for helping me…” you said quietly to your girlfriend as she keeps her hands on your cheeks, softly rubbing them with her thumb. “Anytime babygirl. If they ever mess with you again or if anyone else tries to, you let me know okay?” Jade said softly as she looks deep into your eyes which made your knees weak.
You nod in understanding and you hug her tight which catches her off guard for a second but hugs you back even tighter when she gets out of it. “Now. Let’s get out of this hell hole. I want some sushi.” She stated as she slings her arm around your shoulder, leading y’all to her car outside. “And yes I’ll stop by to get you some chicken tenders and fries.” She bluntly stated which made your face light up in happiness. You couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.
A/n: I hope the anon and the rest of you enjoyed it! Requests are still open for all of my characters including of course Rhea ripley/Demi Bennett. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here's my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y'all!
#jade west fluff#jade west x fem!reader#jade west masterlist#jade west fanfiction#jade west x reader#jade west#liz gillies x fem!reader#liz gillies x reader#liz gillies#elizabeth gillies x fem!reader#elizabeth gilles#elizabeth gillies x reader#victorious x fem!reader#victorious x reader#victorious#nickelodeon
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IOTA Reviews: Derision
Well, here we are. This is the episode you've all been waiting for me to cover. The one people claim is the cream of the crop when it comes to badness, not just for the insane amount of retcons and cases of character assassination, but for how it retroactively makes one of the most criticized parts of the entire show worse by comparison. If you've seen the episode, you know what I'm talking about.
Let's get into the fourteenth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Derision
We start off with Marinette waking up for the day before getting a call from Adrien, who gives one of the clunkiest pieces of exposition I've ever heard on this show, and that's saying something.
Adrien: I was just going to tell you how excited I am that we're meeting at the swimming pool later, and to wake you up just in case you were still sleeping.
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Just as she hangs up, Marinette's hands start to tremble, having visions of a locker, hinting at some old memories resurfacing. Just to get this out of the way, but one thing I want to give this episode props for is the way these panic attacks are portrayed. The colors change, the environments warp around, and it gives off a very uneasy feeling. It kind of reminds me of this one episode of The Twilight Zone, “Little Girl Lost”, which used similar visuals to depict the otherworldly atmosphere of another dimension.
Marinette meets up with Adrien at the local pool, and has another panic attack. Kim and Ondine seem to notice this.
Kim: Woah, Adrien. That must've been some prank you pulled to make Marinette freak out like that. What did you do to her?
Ondine: It's not funny, Kim! Can't you see Marinette's not okay?
Kim: Oh, come on. She always reacts like that when someone pranks her.
Kim then proceeds to tell Adrien and Ondine (and by extension, the audience) about what he means. I'm going to talk a lot about this, so to make things easier for all of us, I'll give you the short version so you have an idea of what happened.
About a year before the events of “Origins”, we see Chloe was bullying Marinette even more than she did before then, constantly pulling sadistic pranks Megan from Drake & Josh would find to be overkill, while making her late to class. To make things worse, none of her teachers believed her and took Chloe's side all the time, giving her detention on the weekends. Mylene, Rose, and Juleka try to help Marinette, but apparently, Chloe orders them to not talk with her before saying that “she'll be there to make Marinette's life a nightmare”.
The only person with the common sense to help out Marinette is Socqueline, that girl from “Jubiliation”. Socqueline learns that Marinette has a crush on Kim, who is even more of a jerk than he was during the first half of Season 1, and when Marinette thinks about asking him out to the swimming pool after school, Socqueline advises Marinette to be careful. Sabrina tips off Chloe to Marinette's plan, so Chloe goes to give Kim advice to pull a prank on Marinette. At the pool, just as Marinette confesses her feelings to Kim, Kim gives her a box full of spiders, causing her to panic and fall backwards into the pool. Chloe films the thing with the intent to make it go viral, but Socqueline stops her plan before she can upload it. Kim doesn't seem to see what he did was wrong, seeing it as a harmless joke as Socqueline tells him to piss off.
It's here that Marinette determines that if she ever has feelings for a boy ever again, she'll need to be super prepared, explaining how much she knows about Adrien and his schedule in later episodes. Chloe then gets Socqueline expelled from school just a few weeks before the end of the school year. Marinette blames herself for what happened, but Socqueline tells her that sometimes, no matter how dire the odds seem, she needs to muster up the courage to fight the good fight.
Oh, and Marinette was almost akumatized by Monarch again, but it's really just an excuse to keep her away while Kim tells the story.
So... let's talk about this flashback. Clocking in at about ten minutes, almost half of the episode's runtime, this is easily the part everyone (myself included) seems to have problems with, for all kinds of reasons. Let's break down each and everything wrong with this flashback.
#1: The Portrayal of Chloe
Surprisingly, this is the least of my problems. Compared to Kim (who I'll get to later), Chloe is mostly in character with how she's usually portrayed by this point in the series. She's egotistical, she orders Sabrina around, she hates Marinette, and throws her father's name around over and over again like it's a boomerang. My feelings on the wasted opportunities with her character aside, this does make sense seeing how this takes place before Season 1.
But there's the problem. This takes place before Season 1, and Chloe does things she never did in Season 1, or any of the other seasons for that matter. She clearly has the teachers and principal doing what she wants, she can boss the other students around (which I'll also get to later), she pulls sadistic practical jokes on Marinette, and even uses her dad's name to get Socqueline expelled. In the show, she doesn't really do any of this. Sure, she can occasionally use her dad's influence to get what she wants (Lady Wifi, Rogercop, Frightningale, Determination), but it was never to this extent. While she also tried to act like she was better than the rest of her peers, barring Sabrina, nobody ever listened to her or took her seriously. Chloe also tended to focus on bullying Marinette, but she didn't do these kinds of practical jokes. Usually, it was either sabotage (Mr. Pigeon, Despair Bear, Gabriel Agreste) or just general name calling, and she picked on other students too (Dark Cupid, Reflekta, Antibug, Sole Crusher, Penalteam, Deflagration).
The point I'm trying to make is why the hell did Chloe stop acting this way? What caused her to stop being as bad as she is here? I get the whole point of this episode is to show how terrible Chloe is, but you're showing off all her bad moments in a flashback and never considering the other things she's done that would be just as effective. Wasn't the main idea behind Chloe's “damnation arc” that she started to change, but went back on her ways and became worse than before? If that's the case, I have to reiterate, why was she even worse in this flashback?
I also have an issue with making the cause of all of Marinette's trauma because of this prank by Chloe. Yes, the prank was terrible, and trust me this isn't me once again going “GRR! CHLOE STAN ANGRY BECAUSE RICH GIRL IS EVIL IN FLASHBACK!”. It's more along the lines of “Really? We're really doing this?”. While I'm glad that after Chloe's betrayal at the end of Season 3, the show is finally considering the idea of making her more than just comic relief as a villain, it feels like a case of too little, too late.
After so many years of making Chloe out to be harmless unless she screams her daddy's name, now you're treating her like a serious threat who traumatized Marinette for life? Chloe is the cause of Marinette's trauma? This is like if the person who killed Bruce Wayne's parents turned out to be a joke character like Egghead or Crazy Quilt. Just because a serious villain does something important to the story, it doesn't automatically make their prior unfunny antics go away.
But my main gripe with the portrayal of Chloe here is that this flashback fails to do something that still hasn't been done in almost five seasons and eight years: Explain just why Chloe hates Marinette so much. Chloe is unusually cruel here, and doesn't even have a reason to torture Marinette like this. Usually, Marinette gets in the way of what she wants, but here? Marinette doesn't do anything to warrant this level of dedication. You would think for a flashback sequence focusing on her and Marinette's history, they would actually explain why Chloe likes to single out Marinette, but they don't. The writers would rather take time out of the episode to remind the audience of why Chloe is the way she is, and why it isn't acceptable, than clarify what Chloe's deal with Marinette is.
Rose: She’s this way because her mother left her when she was young.
Mylene: So did mine, and you don't see me having fun bullying Marinette.
Gee, I wonder if Astruc himself had a part in writing that exchange or not.
If you're willing to acknowledge previous episodes while also discussing how poorly Chloe treats Marinette, it would help if you finally did something to inform the audience about why Chloe likes to torture Marinette in the first place. Did Marinette show Chloe up at a fashion show? Did Marinette impress Chloe's dad one time? Did Marinette just spill coffee on Chloe's shoes? I will take literally anything, no matter how stupid the explanation is, over getting nothing after eight years.
It's also pretty rich that that scene was trying to say that what happened to Chloe doesn't justify her actions when not only do we never get a scene like that pointing out how creepy Marinette obsesing over Adrien was, but later in the episode, Marinette specifically pins all the blame on Chloe in one line.
Marinette: Adrien! I know what's wrong with me! It's not my fault, and it's not your fault, either! It's all Chloe's fault!
So remember kids, just because bad things happen to you, it doesn't excuse your unflattering actions... except when it does, and in that case, it's all the fault of the person who wronged you in the first place.
#2: The Portrayal of Kim
I'll admit, I'm not really the biggest fan of Kim as a character. I don't hate him, but it feels like after Season 2, he just became that guy who really loves to swim, where even characters like Max, Marc, and Nathaniel had more depth to them. This episode however? Yeah, I couldn't stand Kim here.
Just like with Chloe, Kim is sort of in character as the same eccentric dude who has a habit of being insensitive and accidentally upsetting people (Animan, Syren), and I need to emphasize the “sort of”. Just like Chloe, this goes against his characterization in Season 1, where he was shown to be a bully like Chloe was (Lady Wifi, Timetagger, Origins) before later episodes made him a nicer person. However, unlike Chloe, the show sort of tries to retcon Kim's rude behavior to be more in line with his Season 5 self by portraying him as more of a bully who simply isn't aware of how harmful his jokes are, but it doesn't work because of how cruel he seems, and he doesn't have the excuse of knowing how terrible he is like Chloe does.
There's also how easily he goes along with Chloe's prank when she literally insults him and Marinette to his face.
Chloe: I heard Marinette asked you to go with her to the swimming pool.
Kim: Yeah, we’re going swimming together. Cool! 'Cause I love to swim!
Chloe: That’s not why she asked you, dummy!
Kim: It's not? Then, what are we going to do? Chloe: She wants to declare her feelings for you! Kim: For me? But why?
Chloe: Probably because she's utterly ridiculous, and so are you, which makes you two perfect for each other!
Kim: Oh? You think so?
There's not being aware of how insensitive of how you are to others, and then there's not being able to comprehend basic insults. Chloe doesn't even try to give Kim a backhanded compliment or secretly insult him (“You really like swimming, don't you? Good thing you can swim better than you do in class.”). She just calls him a dummy, and Kim still falls for her trick. If you want to have Kim fall for Chloe's plan, don't make her so obviously cruel. For God's sake, you're making the class in the Lila episodes look smart by comparison.
And even after retelling the story, Kim still thinks Chloe highly, not only saying how pretty she is right in front of his girlfriend, but he still thinks the joke was the funniest thing ever. After five seasons, Kim of all people should know about how mean Chloe is, given he was literally kidnapped and brainwashed into serving her while she sided with Hawkmoth (Miracle Queen).
The worst part is that Kim has nothing to do with this story at all. You could literally replace him with any other guy, even a nameless background character with no lines, and nothing would change. Hell, I'd argue it'd be even better as having Marinette be embarrassed in front of some rando would highlight the impact it had on her self-esteem when she tries to go after someone of a higher social class. It would also better justify the spider prank if someone else pulled it because “Darkblade” established that Kim was afraid of spiders.
And if you think I'm talking about Kim after this part, believe me, there's more to this schmuck than meets the eye.
#3: The Way Everyone Just... Lets This All Happen
Look, I get what the episode is trying to go for, narratively, and realistically. Sometimes, teachers and other authority figures just don't do their jobs when someone gets bullied. Hell, I was bullied for years by someone who liked to take advantage of my anger issues, and it wasn't until my last year of middle school that the faculty finally decided to do something about it. I also get that this entire flashback wouldn't happen if the teachers realized how cruel Chloe was and got her expelled. What I don't get is how the flashback portrays anyone who was there as unwilling to do anything to help.
First off, Marinette claims that the reason none of the teachers believed her was because they're all too afraid to stand up to Chloe, since she can call her dad and cost them their jobs, but that's far from the truth. The only time we see anyone actually being afraid of Chloe was when Mr. Damocles went back on refusing to expel Socqueline before Chloe threatened to call her dad and get him fired. Other than that, while we only see Ms. Mendeleiev and Mr. Damocles in this flashback, neither of them really show any signs of being afraid of Chloe. They just go along with what she says, and they don't even try to take Marinette's side. Just like Kim, this would be more understandable if these were different characters who were never shown to be this cruel to Marinette in earlier episodes.
Second, while I can sort of buy the teachers not caring about Marinette, the fact that her classmates don't do anything is another story. We saw Mylene, Rose, and Juleka trying to help Marinette, but right after they talk to her, Chloe just orders them to go away, and it's never explained why. Marinette said the teachers were afraid of Chloe, but does that mean the students are too? Again, later episodes would establish nobody takes Chloe seriously as a bully, so this part of the flashback makes no sense. What changed to make them stop being afraid of Chloe anyway? Once again, if these were a bunch of nameless characters who were more apathetic to Marinette's situation, that would make sense, retroactively showing how much Marinette's friends care for her. Instead, it's like that scene in RWBY where the main characters watch a student being bullied by a racist classmate, and all they do is say “Wow, racism really sucks, huh? Anyway, not our problem.”
Third, you're telling me that Marinette came up with multiple excuses not to go to school even with a few weeks left in the year, and Marinette's parents didn't see anything weird about it? They didn't think that something must be making Marinette want to do anything but go to school? I don't think they were even informed about the situation at school, unless you want to be generous and say they knew Marinette got detention. You can't even make the excuse that it would work if these were different characters, but these are Marinette's parents. You know, the same characters the show portrays as loving and affectionate to their daughter? You're telling me they didn't even think to look into the situation, much less talk to Marinette about school?
The problem with all the other characters in this flashback is in order to make what happens possible, they have to be as apathetic as possible. There's being unaware of a situation or being too afraid to stand up (which is unfortunately something that happens when people bullied sometimes), and then there's just not caring about the bully victim at all. It's ironic how even though a big part of the flashback was to show how awful Chloe was, it unintentionally make everyone else in Marinette's life seem just as cruel to let her suffer like that.
But I know what you're thinking. “What about Socqueline? She was there to help Marinette, so why didn't you mention her?” Well...
#4: Where the Hell Has Socqueline Been All This Time?
Like I mentioned in my “Jubilation” review, Socqueline is yet another unnecessary addition to the already overcrowded cast of characters in this show, and it seemed like this episode was meant to justify her inclusion, but it only raised more questions.
Just to remind you, this flashback establishes that Marinette was constantly bullied by Chloe until a nice girl in glasses stood up for her, and inspired Marinette to be more confident.
SOUND FAMILIAR?
Yeah, this flashback is pretty much the same as Marinette's arc in “Origins” was, only with Socqueline in Alya's place. We get it, writers, Season 1 was good. Constantly repeating stuff like what happened in “Mr. Pigeon 72” isn't going to win you any favors.
This really highlights how pointless of a character Socqueline is, as despite supposedly being a really important person in Marinette's life, Marinette herself never thought to tell anyone about her, and judging from how Marinette described her to Tikki in “Jubilation”, I don't think she even stayed in contact with Socqueline after she was expelled. It's not like left Paris afterwards. All we know is that she went to another school and got a job at a local arts and crafts store, so why did Marinette just stop talking with her? Even with Felix and Zoe, they had the excuse of being in different countries, but you can't say that with Socqueline.
Also, this was something I just realized, but if Mr. Damocles got her expelled, why the hell did Socqueline treat him like he was any other customer at her job, much less compliment him as a principal?
#5: The Handling of Trauma in General, and How This Impacts Marinette as a Character
Like pretty much every other serious issue it tries to tackle, Miraculous Ladybug has always had a poor understanding of mental health. When it comes to portraying characters who struggle with some form of grief of trauma, like Adrien, Felix, Chloe, Zoe, and even Marinette, the responses usually amount to some variation of “Grow a pair and get over it, you big baby!”.
With Felix, Chloe, and Marinette, even if their actions are partially motivated as a response to either losing a loved one, trying to emulate their neglectful parent, or as a defense mechanism to avoid repeating an already traumatic experience, they're all proven to be in the wrong, and it's not to teach a lesson about alternative coping mechanisms or support systems. The show just says that they're automatically wrong for what they do, what causes them to act the way they do is never acknowledged, and instead, we're supposed to just act like they're being jerks for no reason. Compare this to Adrien and Zoe, who both had rough lives losing their mother at a young age or living with an abusive mother respectively, and rather than go into detail how it affected them or how they managed to become decent human beings in spite of it, the show just says that they're nice people, so people like Felix, Chloe, and Marinette have no reason to be mean to others.
This is honestly why I feel like this episode's depiction of mental health and dealing with trauma falls flat. In case you didn't know, I asked my followers who had to deal with some form of trauma to share their experiences and how it compared to what Marinette went through in the episode. For the most part, the common consensus seems to be that while the symptoms of Marinette's trauma and her reactions to it are very believable, a lot of it is contradicted by previous episodes, and it seems like it was only there to do a story about dealing with trauma.
So many episodes across Seasons 1 through 4 show Marinette dealing with Kim and Chloe without really any issue, and she showed no problem with starting relationships with Luka and Cat Noir, to say nothing about Nathaniel's brief crush on her in “The Evillustrator”. If Marinette was so traumatized by this prank, why did she want to go swimming in episodes like “Gorizilla” and “Mr. Pigeon 72”? Why did she bother to help Kim confess to Chloe in “Dark Cupid”? Why did she team up with Chloe to sabotage Kagami in “Animaestro”? Why did she suggest Chloe could change for the better throughout Seasons 2 and 3? Why did she continue to let Chloe and Kim use the Bee and Monkey Miraculous respectively, even after they got them from outside sources? This flashback is desperately trying to tie previous events of the series together together, but it only works if you ignore all the times Marinette has interacted with Kim and Chloe without having a panic attack.
Then there's how the flashback tries to connect this to Marinette memorizing all of Adrien's schedule to make sure he won't hurt her, an obvious attempt to rebuff one of the biggest criticisms of her as a character. Here's why it doesn't work.
First off, the setup doesn't work because while Marinette vows to do a better job getting to know the next person she falls in love with and how, in her words mind you, “He isn't friends with Chloe”. Putting aside the kindness he's shown her in “Origins”, she kind of failed to really consider her choice to pursue him if he stayed friends with Chloe if we're going to believe Chloe traumatized Marinette so much.
It also doesn't really explain the more predatory actions Marinette has taken whenever another girl tries to get close to Adrien (The Bubbler, Volpina, Animaestro, Oni-Chan, Heart Hunter), or how she tries to rig up situations to get closer to him (The Gamer, Gigantitan, Backwarder, Party Crasher, Felix, Psycomedian, Glaciator 2, Simpleman). And that's not even getting into how obsessive she is with him in other areas, like repeatedly playing a commercial he was in (Gorizilla), making a bunch of presents for him in advance (Christmaster), trying to kiss a wax statue of him (The Puppeteer 2), sniffing his pillow (Cat Blanc), or all the other times she's creepily obsessed over him.
But of course, you've probably noticed that I've forgotten to mention one key thing about what this flashback means: You know how Marinette tends to act nervously and stumbles a lot around Adrien when she isn't meticulously documenting his schedule? Yeah, they were essentially panic attacks brought on by her PTSD, and the episode tries to act like Kim did to her wasn't funny afterwards. Here's the problem with this.
YOU MADE MARINETTE'S TRAUMA YOUR PRIMARY SOURCE OF COMEDY FOR THE PAST FIVE FUCKING SEASONS!
You do NOT have the right to act like what happened to Marinette was bad when you were constantly playing her anxiety up for laughs for almost EIGHT YEARS at this point!
In addition to all the other examples I mentioned, we had episodes like “Psycomedian”, which confirmed that the same behavior that this episode is trying to say is connected to her trauma was hilarious to Adrien, as well as “Backwarder”, which thrived on playing up Marinette's anxiety towards Adrien and was said to be one of the funniest episodes of the show to work on by Astruc himself.
THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES
#6: Why This Flashback Is Ultimately Pointless
But above all, the biggest problem I have with this flashback is because of how pointless it is. It's trying to better go into detail about why Marinette acts the way she does around Adrien, but did we really need to do that?
This flashback doesn't really reveal anything that we didn't know already. We know Marinette was bullied by Chloe, we know she was a lot more meek and needed others to stand up for her, and we definitely know that we're not supposed to like Chloe. Adding to my earlier point, if we actually got more insight into the origin of Chloe's obsession with Marinette, that would have at least made this flashback important to watch, but once again, despite being a flashback episode, we learn nothing about the characters that we don't already know.
But this flashback is also meant to explain why Marinette is so hesitant to embrace her new relationship with Adrien when we already got a reason for that last season. The first half of the season has made a big deal about how much her feelings for Adrien cost her the Miraculous, so why not focus on that? This flashback just feels like it's here to give more Marinette angst instead of focusing on the things they've already established. And that's not even getting into what she saw during “Cat Blanc”.
Why couldn't we just have a story about Marinette's own insecurities causing her to doubt she can make her relationship with Adrien work, seeing how poorly things ended with Luka? Have her worry that something could go wrong as a result of her need to overcompensate, or worry that Adrien could betray her. That way, you could have Adrien supporting Marinette in a way that reflects their partnership as Cat Noir and Ladybug respectively.
But no. Instead we have this flashback that's taken me about ten pages to fully dissect. And the worst part is that I still have the rest of the episode to talk about. God help me...
So after Adrien and Ondine explain how this prank could have done a lot of damage to Marinette's psyche, Kim decides to find Marinette, and apologize for being so—Ah, I'm just messing with you guys. After all, that would actually make Kim likable. So what does he say instead?
Kim: Come on! Loosen up, you guys! It's like you can't even speak your mind these days.
Ondine: That doesn't give you permission to hurt other people!
Kim: Whatever! I'm the way I am and I'm fine that way! It's not my fault you guys have no sense of humor!
Yep, rather than having Kim realize the error of his ways and maybe be akumatized out of guilt, Kim just whines about how everyone else is just a humorless pansy these days. The writers pretty much made Kim's motivation boil down to “It's just a prank, bro!”. Even Monarch seems to go along with this, as he refers to Kim as “A free spirit feeling unjustly rejected”, when this was right after he called Chloe the prettiest girl in front of his own girlfriend's face. So Monarch sends his Akuma to Kim's goggles, akumatizing him into Dark Humor. Yes, that's really the name they're going with.
Dark Humor is a pretty forgettable recolor of Dark Cupid. Other than inverting the red and black color scheme and giving him a targeting scope on his right eye, there's not much else to say other than the incredibly on the nose name they gave him. His powers are sort of like Dark Cupid's, only now, instead of turning people heartless, they now share his soulless brand of “humor”. At least, I think it is. His Alliance power is the Monkey Miraculous's Uproar, but it's not really clarified if he's only using Uproar arrows or not, judging from the use of the rubber ducky that we've seen King Monkey use before.
Marinette and Adrien transform into Ladybug and Cat Noir respectively, but once they meet up, we get the most controversial part of the episode that isn't connected to the flashback scene: Cat Noir gives Dark Humor the beatdown of his life and is about to Cataclysm him, for pulling a bad prank on Marinette a year ago. Yeah, a lot of people have pointed out that Adrien felt a lot of remorse for Cataclysming Monarch earlier in this season, yet here, Cat Noir looks like someone told him that Kim just shot the Pope. For God's sake, writers, you're five seasons in! How hard is it to determine whether or not you want your hero to be okay with killing people or not?
And of course, this bites him in the ass, as Dark Humor stabs Cat Noir with an arrow, not only changing his Cataclysm into something that creates a bunch of balls from his hand, but also making him just as insane as the rest of Dark Humor's victims. You know, I'm this close to starting a “Remember Season 1” counter, because this is just glorified fanservice.
Ladybug tries to summon her Lucky Charm, but is stopped by Dark Humor, so Ladybug transforms back into Marinette, transforms into Ladybug again, and summons her Lucky Charm for real this time, getting... a toilet. Of course, the only way to combat Dark Humor's bad jokes is by using even worse jokes! Genius! Ladybug places the toilet over Dark Humor's head and breaks it along with the goggles, freeing the Akuma.
Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, gives Kim a useless Magical Charm, and Cat Noir apologizes for murdering Kim by saying his emotions got the better of him, which is like saying OJ Simpson and his wife had a minor disagreement.
Kim apologizes to Marinette for traumatizing her, and I guess that's enough for Ondine to forgive him for saying another girl is prettier than her.
After Marinette sort of explains what happened to Adrien, he goes over to tell Chloe to apologize, and we get... this scene.
Adrien: I know about everything that you did to Marinette last year, Chloe. You're going to go and apologize to her and prove to everyone that you can change. I'm sure she'll forgive you.
Chloe: (laughs) Forgive me? What do I care about her forgiveness? I couldn't care less about Dupain-Cheng's feelings! She and the likes of her only exist to suffer for my entertainment. Why bother having power if you can’t use it against those who don’t have any? You’re the one who’s getting things wrong, with your baker girl! You’re a prince! You belong with me, the princess! You’re in this world to shine! To make fun of all the losers who are only good enough to be used as doormats!
Adrien: You're nothing like a princess, Chloe. I supported you. I gave you multiple chances to become a better person. Everyone reached out to you, including Ladybug and Cat Noir when they gave you the Miraculous of the Bee again. But all you ever think about is yourself.
Chloe: And what else IS there to think about? Losers and nobodies? The little bees? The planet?
Adrien: We will never be friends again, Chloe. You and I are done.
Chloe: Traitor.
Okay, first off, “She and the likes of her only exist to suffer for my entertainment.”? That's the line you're going with? She sounds like a dark lord in an RPG game. How is this the closest thing we ever get to an explanation to why Chloe hates Marinette so much?
Second, ignoring the fact that we already had Chloe end her friendship with Adrien last season (Queen Banana), it's pretty weird that this is the breaking point in their friendship. Adrien doesn't mention all the other times she's bullied people or when she sided with Hawkmoth even when he brought up her time as Queen Bee. He saw her being mean to so many people over five seasons, yet only when he learns Chloe did something to his girlfriend that he decides to finally confront her. If we at least got a line where Adrien acknowledged that he essentially enabled Chloe for so long by thinking she could change, that would have at least sort of worked. Instead, he makes it about how she refused to change herself. Dude, you had the chance to stand up to her for years, and you even did so in one episode before you went back on it (Despair Bear). You have nobody to blame but yourself.
Finally, Chloe is pretty out of character here. She's way too calm about ending her friendship with Adrien compared to what happened in “Despair Bear” and “Queen Banana”. You'd think if the writers wanted this to be a big moment of catharsis for the audience, Chloe would at least beg Adrien to stay a little. But no, Chloe brushes it off when it could easily justify her getting worse in later episodes, and even Adrien doesn't even consider how much he thought Chloe's friendship meant to him. Because these writers are dedicated to making sure that any identifiable trait Chloe once had is removed so you have no choice but to hate her.
But hey, at least the episode's over. What did I think of it?
youtube
Yeah, it wasn't very good.
I just... what else do you even want me to say here? I spent about ten pages going over why the flashback sequence doesn't work, I've already ranted about Cat Noir trying to kill someone with his Cataclysm in previous episodes (Hack-San, Jubilation), and I think you all know what my feelings on the portrayal of Chloe and Kim are.
I guess I can answer one question you may have: Is this episode worse than either “Penalteam” or “Queen Banana”? Eh, not really. Let me explain.
The problems with “Queen Banana” and “Penalteam” went beyond the treatment of Chloe with the way the stories were handled, with “Queen Banana” being a cheap jab at critics and TV executives while propping up their new character Zoe, and “Penalteam” being an excuse to have a soccer episode while making Cat Noir look like a buffoon right before the finale. Most of the problems with this episode have more to do with how they affect the way we see previous episodes, and why some scenes that were already unfunny are even less funny now.
With this episode, you can at least tell there was some effort being made to tell a more serious story here that went into what made Marinette tick. Yeah, it and the themes of mental health and trauma were handled about as gracefully as a ballet dancer trying to get a bear trap off their leg, but there's at least an attempt here.
Of course, this episode is still awful. The conflict with Kim not getting how much of a jerk he was after a year was dumb (as was him being even more of a jerk as Dark Humor), the fact that Marinette's trauma seemed to come and go when the plot needed it to really showed off how forced it is, and it only ends with you having more questions about Marinette and Chloe's rivalry rather than answering them.
While I'm still not a fan of this episode, and would still place it in my top five least favorites, I don't think it's the absolute worst. Although it's still the worst one so far this season from a technical standpoint.
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS...KIM
It says a lot when Cat Noir actually tried to murder someone in this episode, yet not only is he not even considered for the award this episode, the person he tried to kill ends up being the bigger idiot. Not only did he easily fall for Chloe's plan when she insulted him to his face, he failed to understand how it affected Marinette for a year, and when he was told about how bad it was, he refused to take responsibility for his actions, blamed it on other people not being able to take a joke, and only gave the smallest apology after he was almost killed for his attitude. It's honestly funny how he somehow comes across as more unlikable than Chloe, the character this episode was made to make you hate even more.
#immaturity of thomas astruc#iota#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug salt#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#adrien agreste#cat noir#chat noir#gabriel agreste#hawkmoth#hawk moth#monarch#monarch miraculous#le chien kim#dark cupid#dark humor#chloe bourgeois#socqueline wang#ondine#mr damocles#Youtube
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Pacts - Mammon x MC
Part 3
Haven’t Read The Beginning? : Part One - Part Two
Tag list + Author’s Note at the end
Tags: Angst w/ eventual comfort, Mentions of Death/The Fall, Mentions of anxiety/anxiety attacks
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Okay… Deep breaths. Just like Lilith taught ya.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In
In
IN!!!!
“Mammon, what’s wrong! Hey, Mammon, come on, come back to me.”
If only the simple snapping of your fingers in his face and the feeling of you grabbing his shoulders could bring him down from the panic he was now feeling.
This should be easy. He can remember another time, a simpler time, a time long gone by. One where his sister still lived and smiled and breathed. One where she taught him things like expressing your feelings and sharing your emotions with others. One where she showed just how important family and friends and lovers could be…
He was never good at it. Of course, that was his own personal opinion. But whenever he did Lilith would smile that blinding smile and glow and tell how much of a natural he was at it.
He’s flirted, sure, he’s put on the charm and picked up various angels and demons and humans and who even knows what to fulfill his more primal desires. He’s taken lovers and partners and been a part of a couple, or thruple…or even quadruple, some of which lasting for years or even decades.
But ever since the fall, ever since he lost his home, his friends, his sister, his life; and was left to pick up the pieces with the other six who swore themselves to damnation for the rest of existence? He can’t say that he’s been interested in another being. At least not like this.
You. You. The human. The stupid exchange student he was unceremoniously shackled to. The one he had no choice but to watch over. The one that seemingly didn’t care that they were thrust into hell. The one that defied his all powerful brothers, whether out of bravery or innocence or down right stupidity. The one that calls him silly for wearing sunglasses inside and hums to themselves when they’re really focused and explores the Devildom with curiosity rather than fear and is too friendly for their own good and looks at him with big, bright, beautiful eyes that nobody has ever looked at him with before and tells him they really like hanging out with him and and and…
Everything stops. Everything goes blank. The only thing Mammon can feel is a weight, one that’s made it’s way around his body. It’s comforting and warm and all consuming and it’s…
He opens his eyes he didn’t realize he had screwed shut, only to find you clinging onto his form, arms wrapped around him. Your face tilts upwards from where it was buried in his chest, your expression painted one of concern.
“Oh god- I mean, oh gosh? I think. Are you okay?”, you question, tone laced with worry. “I have anxiety attacks too sometimes, I know it sucks. Do you need space? Or maybe water? I don’t know how it works for demons but that usually helps me.”
Mammon feels the blush beginning to spread across his face, knowing the position you’re both in looks compromising. He can’t remember the last time he has someone make such a fuss over him, and of course it’d be you, while he’s trying to sort out his feelings no less! You make it extremely hard to think, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely enjoy every second you made contact with his skin.
“N-Nah, ‘m good. I guess it’s…just a lot to explain ‘n all,” he mutters, playing with a loose thread he found on your shirt collar.
“Well, then let’s start from the beginning. The pact, right? We formed it like normal, well… as normal as forming a pact with a demon can be, right?
“Right.”
“And the placement of ours… that doesn’t normally happen right- or at least, it hasn’t happened to you?”
“Right. Hasn’t happened to me before, or any of ‘m brothers. I dun’ even think Solomon’s got one there, and he’s covered in ‘em. It’s….rare.”
“Rare? How’s it rare?”
“Well…cause it means somethin’. Somethin’…. important.”
He continues pulling at the loose thread, looking anywhere but you, his face a brilliant shade of red.
“All pacts represent a bond right?”
“Yea.”
“A shared bond? Between the former and formee.”
“Yea.”
“And so a bond formed over my heart means something…else?”
“GAH! DO I HAV’TA SPELL IT OUT FOR YA DUMMY!”
Mammon jumps up from his seat and out of your arms before shoving his hands in his pockets, turning his back towards you. He brings a shaky hand up to wipe his face.
“Tch. Can’t believe ‘m sayin this out loud”, he mutters under his breath, before turning around.
“Human, I…I like ya! Okay! There, I said it, ya happy dammit?!”
It was now your turn to blush furiously, watching as he brings his shoulders up and winces, almost like he’s waiting for something bad to happen, almost like he’s bracing for the worst.
“You…like me?”, you ask, shocked at the bluntness of his confession.
“Don’t make me repeat myself!”
You sit dumbfounded, letting the feeling of his feelings wash over you. He watched the gears turn in your head and thinks that if you think any harder, your brain is going to explode. Ya know, fragile human stuff ‘n all.
“But…Mammon, you said you didn’t like me being around you. You said that it was an inconvenience to be near me. You even said the pact mark was a blemish.”
Mammon freezes. Fuck. For once, the outspoken second born doesn’t have a response. He stares at you, eyes wide and wild, a deer caught in the headlights.
“So, you throw insults at me, tell me to leave you alone, and now you tell me you like me?”
“I-”
“Mammon, what am I supposed to do with that? You constantly treat me like an annoyance, you threatened me my first week here, hell, you just decided it was fine if I was seen with you outside of R.A.D., and now all of a sudden you like me?”
“MC-”
“I…I don’t know what to say, Mammon. Honestly, I don’t know…what you want from me here.”
His fists ball in his pockets as he starts to tremble a little. He bites his lip and turn his head, not wanting to face you for this next part. Even if you denied it due to the hurt he caused, he knew the undeniable truth; It sat right across your chest.
“Ya don’t gotta say anythin’. I already know how ya feel about me.”
“Mammon-”
“No, I do. Ya don’t have to say it. An’ I’m sorry for bein’ a jerk, alright. I just…I can’t…I’ve been…I mean…It’s cuz’…tch!”
He turns again to compose himself. You almost expect him to leave, to run towards the door and walk out, sulking by himself. You can’t say you’d blame him, you’d probably find yourself doing the same if someone responded to you the way you had just to him. Sure, you liked the second born, but he made it so hard with the way he flip flopped his feelings towards you. You don’t have long to mourn the budding friendship you were having with the avatar of greed before he makes his next move.
He shakes his head and turns back to you, his trademark cocky smirk reappearing across his face. There’s an expression in his eyes you can’t quite place, and he steps forward, crouching down to your eye level. There’s a new determination to his swagger, one that makes your heart beat speed up and your body run hot.
“MC, I know how ya feel about me, ‘cuz pact marks only form there if ya both feel the same way.”
Before you could process the thought, his lips are on yours.
You don’t have time to react, he’s doing that for you. One hand comes up behind the back of your head to fist your hair as he brings you closer to him, deepening the kiss, though he still leaves space for you to push him away, enough where if you truly didn’t want this, you could escape his grasp.
It’s tender, you think, the way he holds you. The way his lips move across yours is a softness you’ve never felt before, and it takes your brain a second to catch up and begin kissing him back. As soon as you do, you feel his lips stretch into a smile. This, a stark contrast from the sides of himself he’s been showing you thus far.
After a minute or so, he pulls away from you. “Ya have no idea how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that.”
“Based on what you’ve told me”, you muse with smile, “It looks like it’s been…hmm…I dunno…about as long as I’ve been here?”
“Shuddup.”
You can’t help but laugh at his childish reaction. No matter if he was insulting you like a kid on the playground or kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, he was still Mammon.
“So what does the pact mark on the heart mean in scientific terms?”
“Scien-what?”, He gawks, clearly stumped at your question. You stifle another giggle.
“I mean, if I asked what it meant to a teacher or, say, Solomon, what would he say it meant?”
Mammon sighs at the question. You really were gonna make him repeat himself, huh. “It means that I like ya and ya like me, okay?”
You seem kind of bummed at this answer. “Aww, is that it?”, you question.
“Whadda mean is that if? Whadda ya want, it to mean we’re soulmates or somethin’?”
“Does it?”
“…”
“Mammon?”
“…”
“WAIT! MAMMON! DOES IT?”, you wildly smile, eyes bright in shock.
“S-Some old folktales may say-”
“I’M ASKING SOLOMON!”, you declare, jumping out of his arms and speeding towards the door
“Oi! No ya don’t ya little nightmare!”, he screams running after you.
He’d let you win this race, of course he would. And the one after that. And the one after that.
Besides,
He had the rest of your life to catch ya whenever he wanted.
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Taglist: @someoneunkownforyou @fandomhell97 @crocrafts @dragonageoregons @furblrwurblr @youaskedfurret @simpinginthecorner @astarotha @glitterandgoldfinds @liminalimmortal @bestblob @crow-charlie @hauntedcatnerd @aprilwallflower @ungodlywoes @h2ojuice @nani-nani-nani @cant-sleep-because-anime @zarakem @rawharr @nicksworld0715 @fxllen-sxldier @someoneunkownforyou @lexiekim @darlingsama630 @xiaosalmoundtofu @abadonkori @harujkookie @whatamidoing89 @all-mights-wife @oliemolliever @kamukayakmonyet @zp1cy-tr4n5m4n @toobsessedsstuff @enwriq @emsieeee @just-an-indian-pre-med-student @chaoticjojo @todosteakettle @thepaleghost777 @milkysoobi @hopeannalea @pandaplan18 @cutiepattutiestarlight @mentally-unstable-simp @satanawakenedmyoceans
Author’s Note: Holy shit. Guys. GUYS. LOOK AT THAT MF TAGLIST. IM SO HAPPY SO MANY OF YOU ENJOY MY WRITING THAT MUCH 😭😭😭.
Thank you all so much for your support on this series! I’d love to try to do all the brothers next, or keep expanding on this one via MC’s and Mammon’s relationship as MC continues making pacts with the others. Not sure which I’ll go with! Any suggestions? Would we rather it continue being MC x Mammom as MC bonds with the other brothers, or every brother having their own romance line? Anyway, let me know what you think. Love ya lovelies <3
#obey me#mammon#obey me mammon#obey me shall we date#om#omswd#obey me headcannons#obey me mc#mammon headcannons#mammon x reader#mammon x mc#mammon x y/n#mammon drabble#om mammon#omswd mammon#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me x y/n#obey me fic#mammon angst#mammon fluff#the great mammon
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(Not) Just Another Crush - Part 2/2
Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Content Warning: Fluff (for starters), smut (main course), piv sex, protected sex, oral (f.receiving), various positions, overstimulation, squirting, dom!Eren, sub!reader, porn with a lot of plot basically, language.
Chapter Summary: First date with Eren and everything that unfolds after ;)
Author’s Note: Hello, this could’ve been divided into two chapters but I was way too eager to publish it all together lol. Also, I try using y/n as little as I possibly can since I’m aware it often pulls a lot of readers out of the experience slightly, but in some sentences it just can’t be helped so bear with me! :P
Song Dedication: House Of Cards by Radiohead / Erode by TENDER
Part 1 | Part 2
You stand in the exact same spot you'd kissed Eren last night, as you wait for him to park his bike to the far end of the lot.
Looking down at the cute bouquet of Hydrangea, a blush creeps up on your cheeks as you look up to see Eren walking towards you.
You feel your heart thumping louder than usual, maybe it was the post-date jitters of anticipation or maybe it's the wine you downed as you chatted the night away with the handsome man in front of you — if there's one thing you're certain of, it's that this has been the best first date you'd ever been on.
~~~
When Eren texted you in the morning, wishing you a good morning with a “looking forward to the date princess?”, you damn near went into panic mode about the tiniest stupid details like which outfit to wear or how to style your hair to look good for him.
Eren had been vague about the location and had only told you to get ready by 7PM. Since you loved the thrill of surprises, you didn’t press further albeit dying to know where he was taking you.
With facetime suggestions from Annie picking her favourites and ultimately telling you ‘you look pretty in whatever you wear babe’, she was of little help. So, you decided to settle on wearing a mini dress that was just the right amount of sexy without being too slutty.
Once you’re done with makeup and putting on your heels, you check the time to see that it’s quarter to 7, meaning Eren might arrive anytime soon. You pick the helmet he’d given you along with your purse as you walk to your flatmate’s room and knock on her door.
“Yea?” you hear her voice from inside.
“Outfit check,” you reply as you open the door and twirl for her.
“Ooo, sexy mama… poor guy’s gonna have blue balls throughout dinner,” she snorts.
“Sasha! Be serious!” you scold her. She’s about to say something but instead her eyebrows furrow when she looks at your hand.
“What’s that?” Sasha points at the helmet in your hand. Your eyes widen at the realisation.
“Bike! Eren has a bike! I can’t wear this! fuck!” you panic but Sasha clicks her tongue as she jumps out of her bed to rush to her closet. She pulls out a long overcoat and walks towards you.
You keep your things on her side table before wearing the coat and checking yourself out in the mirror. The coat isn’t much longer than the dress but it might just do a good job at covering your legs on the bike.
“Works?” you ask, looking at her through the reflection.
She nods and grins at you, “Still sexy,” before smacking your ass lightly.
You’re about to complain but are distracted by your phone vibrating on the table and smile at seeing Eren’s name flash on the screen. You greet her with a hurried bye bye as you pick your things up in haste and answer the call. Your pace quickens as you walk out the door informing Eren that you’re on your way when he tells you he’s arrived in the parking lot.
When you walk towards his bike, you see him leaning against it with the bouquet in hand. You eye him up and down to check out his outfit. He’s wearing all black with his hair slicked back, loose strands kissing his forehead. The light blue/purple flowers make for a stark contrast with his outfit. You feel giddy just thinking about how the man you’ve had the biggest crush on is waiting to take you out on a date.
“Hi beautiful,” he greets you, holding out the bouquet for you. However, you lean in to give him a hug first instead.
“Hello, my babygurl,” you giggle, wrapping your hands around his torso. He lets out a laugh as you feel him hug you back tightly.
“‘Ren… I need to be alive in order to eat.” you squirm in his arms, feeling him squeeze you in tighter.
“K… I’ll delay the killing for now,” he releases you but not before placing a light peck on your cheek.
“Thank you, kind sir,” you giggle as you take the bouquet, observing the flowers, “.. so pretty.”
“They don’t even come close to you, bub,” he blurts out and you look up to meet his soft gaze.
“Jeez, you weren’t kidding about being a hopeless romantic,” you say as you try not to grin even further at his comment.
“You haven’t seen the best of it yet… ready to leave?” he asks as he takes the helmet from your hand to gently place it on your head. He catches you by surprise when he kisses the tip of your nose suddenly before turning around to wear his helmet as he gets on the bike.
He tilts his bike slightly for your ease and you hold your purse and the bouquet in one hand, gripping his shoulder for support as you climb up and sit close to him to avoid any sorts of wardrobe malfunction. You fix the coat before hugging him from behind when you hear the engine roar.
“All good?”
“Mhm.” you nod as your grip tightens around his waist.
Eren's a seasoned biker – he's the type to be deemed ‘reckless’ by the general observer but if you're riding behind him, you know you can trust his skills with your life.
So that's what you do – you close your eyes to feel the wind blowing over your skin gently, relaxing against his back. If it weren't for the excitement of the date, you probably would've fallen asleep due to how peaceful the ride felt.
When the bike comes to a halt, you open your eyes to observe your surroundings. The restaurant gives off an earthy and very one-with-nature vibe.
“Eren, could you hold this for a sec?” You shake the bouquet and he holds it along with your purse instantly.
You rest both your hands firmly on his shoulders as you get off the bike in one swift motion. You quickly smoothen out any creases that might’ve formed on your dress during the ride.
As you slightly tug at the hem of your dress to straighten it, Eren chuckles softly, “Don't worry… it looks good.”
“Hmm, okay… don't need this anymore then,” you smile at him as you take off your coat and hold it in your arms.
It's just now that Eren is seeing your dress fully for the first time, the way the fabric hugs your body in the right places, accentuating your curves gracefully. And if you weren’t too occupied with trying to take your helmet off as you looked around to take in the scenery, you would've noticed his eyes confirming what Sasha had said about him – he almost contemplated cancelling dinner to take you home right away, imagining all the things he’d do to you.
“... don't you think?” You turn to look at him as if waiting for him to speak.
“Sorry… what?” Eren mumbles, pulled out of his trance abruptly.
“I said the place has a very naturesque aesthetic to it, don’t you agree?” You repeat your question.
“Oh… Yea– right– umm, yes, my friend owns this actually,” Eren clears his throat, collecting his thoughts.
“Really? That's so cool!” Your eyes gleam in excitement. Eren gets off, securing both the helmets to the bike before taking the coat from your hand so that he’s carrying the flowers, your coat and your purse in one hand while placing his other hand on your lower back.
“Rennie, I can carry it by myself,” you laugh as you try to grab your stuff from his hand. This only causes him to lift his hand up and out of your reach. Instead, he takes this opportunity to lean down to give a soft peck on your lips.
“Not on my watch. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be sore from yesterday?” he narrows his eyes at you.
“Yes, but not so much that I can’t even hold a bouquet… or are you implying that I’m weak?” you touch your heart to feign offence.
“Not at all… my baby’s strong, she can do seven pull ups,” he teases you even further. You simply slap his stomach playfully in response, failing to quickly come up with something witty.
When you enter the restaurant, you’re greeted by Eren’s friend, Niccolo.
“Hey man, you’ve arrived right on time. Armin just got here too,” Niccolo greets Eren, giving him a bro hug.
Niccolo turns to look at you, “So you're the pretty lady he won't shut up about,” he extends his arm out and you shake it, blushing hard.
“You've got a gorgeous place here,” you reply with a wide smile.
“Thank you,” Niccolo grins before him and Eren exchange a secretive look. He simply motions you both to follow him to the back, across the room.
“Armin?” You ask, curiosity peaking. You recall Eren mentioning the name a few times before.
“All shall be revealed in its own time,” he smirks and you playfully roll your eyes at how smug he sounds.
When Niccolo opens the backyard door, you almost gasp at how pretty the setup is. The garden area has a table for two at the centre with pretty fairy lights lighting up the entire place.
Your eyes scan over to see an elevated wooden stage space in a corner. You spot a blonde guy with a guitar, busy fixing his chair and adjusting the mic.
“Armin!” Eren yells to get the blonde's attention. Armin looks up and smiles brightly at Eren, giving him a wink and shouting back, “You owe me one now.”
“Thanks man,” Eren chuckles, bowing at the guy.
“The musician who plays here every weekend wasn't available tonight so I pulled in a favour,” Eren tells you as he pulls out the chair for you to sit.
“Thought you’d play the guitar by yourself too,” you joke.
“Won't that make me Mr. Perfect then?”
“Well… that you already are… Mr. Perfect, my babygurl… the list is endless,” you compliment him and it almost comes out as a mumble. You knew his cocky smile would only widen the more you put him on a pedestal.
But you don’t mind holding him in such high regard since he really is one of the kindest, nicest men you’d ever met. None of your exes had ever gone so overboard to make you feel special. Forget about first dates – they hadn’t done anything close to this for even important milestones and anniversaries. It had always been you taking the initiative before, so tonight already feels like an alien experience.
“Is it just us here?” You ask as he sits in front of you.
But before Eren has a chance to speak, Niccolo chuckles, “Yup, Eren was very specific about it when he very rudely disrupted my sleep at 5 in the morning to close the reservations for this area for tonight.”
“Oh stop whining, you and Armin could be the best men at our wedding,” Eren laughs, winking at you and you look down, biting the inside of your cheeks to keep your composure. It’s a harmless joke – of course you know it too! You’re not that delusional – but with the way he’s been treating you so far, you might as well come up with baby names by tomorrow morning.
You feel bad for not getting him anything since you'd assumed he wasn't all that serious about you. Yet here he was, proving you wrong with everything he did!
By the time you’re done with dinner, your heart feels just as full as your belly. The food and Armin’s sweet serenades (which lasted for about 30 minutes before he politely excused himself to go to the kitchen to have dinner with Niccolo) was everything you could've asked for and more.
Eren mentioned that he’d actually helped Niccolo with some of the recipes on the menu in its initial test runs. So when he asked you what you wanted to have, you told him you’d love to try the recipes he’d worked on. You’re impressed by just how good everything looks when the server assembles a variety of pasta, ravioli, risotto, roasted veggies on your table along with a bottle of rosé.
By the time you’re done with the last bite, you’re convinced this might as well be as good as it gets. You’d downed more than half the bottle by yourself since Eren barely drank a glass as he had to get you back home safely. Feeling a little less nervous, you hold your hand out in front to place it on top of his, “Eren, I don’t think I have enough words to express just how happy my heart is right now… and it’s all because of you.”
He smiles as he moves his hand from under yours to intertwine your fingers together instead. “Then don’t speak, just show me,” he says as he leans forward, pouting dramatically. You laugh as you move the wine glass away before closing the distance and kissing him gently. It’s short and has you longing for more when he pulls away.
Just as Eren gets up, excusing himself to get to the washroom, Armin walks out into the area. You smile at him as he sits back in his chair.
“Any special requests?” he asks and you get up to walk to him.
“Actually… Do you mind if I borrow your guitar for one song?” you ask him hesitantly, “I will handle it with care I promise.”
“Yeah, it’s alright. Here you go,” he chuckles as he holds the instrument out for you. Armin gets off the chair and you take his place instead, getting a feel of the guitar quickly before Eren returns.
You let out a sigh as you turn the mic away, convinced you’d freak out less without it. When Eren notices you, he walks towards the stage with an amused look on his face.
“I will murder you if you make fun of me… it’s a work in progress,” you warn him before he even tries to tease you about it. Eren brings his hand up to his face and slides it over as if to seal his lips.
“God, you’re making me nervous…” you mumble as you clear your throat. You turn to look at your fingers on the fretboard, holding them in position as you begin strumming the chords to House Of Cards by Radiohead, the melody sounding slightly off tune whenever your fingers miss landing on the right spot.
You look up briefly to see Eren’s face light up with a bright smile as he instantly recognizes the song before you even begin singing the words. He’d mentioned a few days ago that he’d been obsessed with it lately.
“I don't want to be your friend,
I just want to be your lover
No matter how it ends
No matter how it starts
Forget about your house of cards
And I'll do mine…” you almost stutter when you look up again to see the way he’s looking at you with an intense adoration that has you feeling giddy. Your concentration breaks as you hold his gaze, missing the next chord in the worst way possible.
You crinkle your nose as your voice breaks into a chuckle when you sing the next line, “... Fall off – and I forgot the next lineee.”
Eren's laughter booms from his chest, music to your ears and although you’ve failed at serenading your lover, you’re more than happy to be the reason he’s laughing so hard.
He walks towards you, taking the guitar away from you to hand it to Armin, who’d been giggling and clapping at your attempt nonetheless. Eren holds your hands in his as he pulls you to him, making you stand up. He hugs you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and you squirm slightly at the sudden contact when you feel his breath on your skin.
“Thank you,” you hear his muffled voice.
“No, thank you,” you hook your arms around his shoulders tightly. When you hear Armin clear his throat, you move away from Eren’s embrace slowly as you see the blonde hold the guitar in position, pulling the chair towards him.
“Did you know, Eren has another favourite song?” Armin smirks at Eren as he sits back on the chair comfortably. Eren shoots him a look of warning.
“Arlert… I didn’t call you here to embarrass me in front of my girl,” Eren says, his ears turning red from embarrassment. You shush him with a finger on his lips as you encourage Armin some more.
“So dear y/n… how would you like to hear the song that baby Eren used to dance with his mom to?”
~~~
You hadn’t realised how quickly time passed when you’d gotten comfortable talking to Armin as he spilled all the secret lore of Eren’s childhood, ignoring all of his protests. Eren had eventually given up since he was enjoying the way you’d laugh and squeeze his hand from time to time at some stupid yet endearing thing Armin would reveal about his best friend.
So now with Eren standing in front of you in the parking lot of your apartment well into the night, it still feels like you haven’t had enough time with him. He grins as he pockets his key and you take a step towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, holding the bouquet firmly behind him.
You don’t need to stand on your toes, thanks to the tall heels you’re wearing. Eren only needs to tilt his head down slightly to close the gap between your lips. He hums contently into the kiss and you can feel his lips break into a big smile as his arms snake around your waist from under the coat.
Your stomach does a somersault at the thought of inviting him up to your house. You break the kiss to suggest going up to your place but are interrupted by your phone ringing in your purse. Pulling away your hands from him, you reach into the bag to dig out your phone.
You check the caller ID and it’s Sasha. “Roommate,” you tell Eren before picking up the call. He simply nods, hands still firmly around your waist, holding you close to him.
“Hey, what’s up?” you answer.
“Hey, I know I said I’d take care of the drinks so sorry to put this on you last minute but could you pleaseeeee get like 2 bottles of vodka, 1 of gin, 1 rum and whatever soda you can find with it on your way back home?” you hear Sasha pleading on the other end.
“Ummm… Are you okay?” You laugh, confused at the weird request.
“Yes? For the party?”
Holy shit! You almost want to cuss your poor memory right about now. While thinking about all things Eren, it had completely slipped your mind that your roommate was throwing a rager tonight.
She’d mentioned it vaguely over the week but you didn’t think much of it since you figured you’d be home anyway.
“Shit, I totally forgot about that,” you hiss.
“No worries, but hurry up before everyone gets mad at Connie and I for forgetting to stock up… you can bring your hottie from the gym with you too if the date's going well.”
You see Eren’s ears perk up at Sasha’s words, lips threatening to break into another one of his smug smiles.
“Righttt… let me call you back in a minute, okay?” You quickly cut her off before she has a chance to say something stupid and hang up the call.
Eren’s biting his lip to hold back his laughter as he asks you, clearly amused, “Hottie from the gym?”
“Shut up.”
“Have I been on your mind the entire time, bub?” he coos, nudging your cheek with his nose.
“No…” you lie before quickly changing the topic, “Anywayyy, so the house is packed with people. Would you like to come up?”
“Baby, I am not going to share you any longer tonight,” he lifts your chin up with his index finger. “Especially not when I’ve been dying to rip that dress off you all night,” you feel the heat rise up to your cheeks at his words as he leans down to kiss you. He bites and pulls at your bottom lip, causing you to moan into the kiss.
Eren opens his eyes, pulling back to stare at your lips, your lipstick slightly smudged. He swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, and it feels like he smudges it more instead of fixing it, before his eyes meet yours.
“Fuck this… we’re going to my place,” he groans. You bite your lip as you nod but your eyebrows furrow quickly at the realisation.
“What about that guy… Jean? Your friend?”
“I couldn’t care less about that horseface. Not gonna let him cockblock me two nights in a row.” Eren declares as he lets go of your waist to grab your wrist. He pulls you with him, taking fast strides to where he’d parked his bike.
“You might want to call your roommate to tell her you won’t be coming home tonight,” he speaks as he puts the helmet on your head.
“I can just text her,” you mutter as you send her a quick text: can’t make it tonight. Going to Eren’s!!!!!! Dnd
You quickly shut your phone, not waiting for her reply, shoving it in your purse before climbing up on the bike behind Eren. The ride to his place is much shorter as Eren takes every shortcut he can possibly find to get home soon.
When Eren hastily opens the door to his apartment, you step into the dark living room behind him, trying to make as little noise as you can. He locks the door and you take off your footwear, placing all your things on the coffee table of the living room haphazardly.
Eren glances briefly in the direction of Reiner’s room to see the door has been shut, meaning Jean’s probably fast asleep. Not wanting to waste another second, Eren pulls you closer, sliding the coat off your body as goosebumps rise all over your skin at his touch.
You close your eyes as soon as your lips meet, relishing the way his lips feel against you. Eren dips his tongue into your mouth, dominating the kiss as he towers over you, holding you by the waist. You hook your arms around his neck for support as his hands glide down to play with the hem of your dress.
You let out an involuntary whimper when his lips move to your neck at the same time his fingers slide under your dress to dig into the flesh of your ass.
“Fuck, Ere–” you bite your tongue in an attempt to stifle your moans as Eren pulls the strap of the dress down your shoulder with his teeth.
“Are you not one of the quiet ones, baby?” he teases as he bites the skin over your shoulder while his fingers hook around the band of your underwear before releasing it with a soft smack.
Your nails dig at his shoulders as you shake your head before breathing out a low ‘no.’ Eren’s enjoying this a little too much, his fingers moving dangerously close to your core. When his fingers swipe over your clothed pussy excruciatingly slowly, it feels like his brain might short circuit at how wet you already are.
“‘Ren– please,” you beg as your fingers move down to his bicep in an attempt to get him to move faster. But instead he pulls his hands away and you’re about to complain but it turns into a yelp instead when he catches you by surprise as he lifts you up bridal style.
“Poor Jean’s gonna have a noise complaint,” Eren snickers in a low voice as he carries you to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him with his foot as he moves to the bed, dropping you onto the mattress before climbing up on top of you. He leans to the side to switch on the bedside lamp and it softly illuminates his features.
You lift up to kiss him. He pulls you onto him till you’re straddling his lap, your pussy fluttering when you feel his hard cock pressing against you. You grind your hips, eyes closing shut with your head lolling back, moaning his name at how good the friction feels.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Eren groans when your fingers in his hair lightly pull at his strands. You knit your eyebrows in pleasure when you feel his hands squeeze your breasts from over your dress.
“You’re– mmh– one to talk,” you retort, moving your hips in a steady motion. Eren grabs your wrists to hold them up before pulling your dress over your head in one swift motion, discarding it to the floor.
“Did you wear this for me, pretty?” he says as he observes the lingerie you’re wearing – a blood red lace set. His mouth latches onto one of your boobs, wetting the fabric as he teeths your hardened bud.
“Ahh– jus– wanted to look good for you,” you mewl as you rest your head on his shoulder, grinding faster, feeling yourself getting wetter by the minute.
“Thank you baby. But– hmm– I can’t take my eyes off you even in your oversized gym tees.” he breathes out as he stills your movements by gripping your hips firmly.
“Please don’t stop,” you beg as you lift your head up to look at him, trying to move despite him holding you in place.
“No. I want you to cum on my face,” he says sternly, looking you in the eyes and you know it’s not a request. You nod desperately and his lips curve into one of those smug smiles as he lies back down on the bed, pulling at your hips till you’re on your knees, your core hovering over his face.
“Sit.”
You obey as you slowly lower yourself over his lips, holding most of your weight onto your hands as you lean forward to rest them on the mattress near his head. You hear a tsk as Eren yanks the thin fabric of your thong to a side before digging his fingers into your hips to pull you down closer.
You let out a desperate whimper, feeling as if you’re almost about to lose your fucking mind when he licks a strip up your wet folds. You breathe out a series of cusses, getting louder each time his tongue caresses your clit.
“Fuc- Eren, don’t stop!” you cry out loud. His tongue dips into your hole, swirling to lap at your juices as the tip of his nose brushes against your clit. You squirm as you grip the sheets tightly to steady yourself. He groans as he sucks and licks your pussy, the sound of his voice along with the wet noises of his mouth go straight to your head and you feel yourself getting closer.
“I’m gonna come,” you whimper as you try to pull away from his face. You feel him claw at your ass cheeks before pulling you back into place, increasing the brutal pace of his tongue.
“Pleas– fuck– Eren!” you cry as your hips twitch violently as your orgasm washes over you. Your legs shake, almost giving in as you grab Eren’s hair with shaky hands.
“‘Ts too much,” tears well up in your eyes as your body jerks involuntarily, reacting to each of his licks. Eren knows he’s overstimulating you, feeling a sense of accomplishment at the way your body’s reacting to him and your sweet cries encouraging him to keep pushing you over the edge once more.
He grips at your sides to flip your body so that you’re lying flat on your back. Before you have a chance to close your legs shut, he yanks off your underwear and tosses it to the side. He flashes you a sinister grin, his chin coated with your slick, before diving back down between your legs and spreading them open roughly with his hands.
He spits near your entrance, spreading it around with two fingers before sliding them into you. You try to steady your breathing as you close your eyes, feeling the sweat trickle down your forehead. As he curls his fingers inside you, your back arches as your legs shake.
“Fuck–”
You roughly tug at his hair as you try to close your legs. He suddenly pulls away completely before grabbing your thighs to shove your legs up till they’re pressing into your chest. As his left hand holds you in place, his mouth’s back at it again, now focusing solely on your clit while his right hand moves down to finger you again.
As you get closer, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you sense the familiar feeling build up. You claw at his arm as you try to warn him, “Ren, I– ahh– I might squir– ngh.”
A shiver runs down your spine when you feel him make a humming sound as he keeps on licking you fervently, curling two fingers up to hit the right spot inside you over and over again. You let out a loud cry when you feel the release hit you hard, your brain too foggy to feel any sort of shame at the way you wet the bed and the top of his shirt. Your body twitches as he loosens his grip and your legs fall back down limply. You hear him mumble a soft ‘fuck baby’, his eyes fixated on your hole twitching and the damp mess under you. He pulls out his wet fingers and holds them up in front of him before sucking them clean.
Your chest heaves as you look down at him with a fucked out expression on your face. You gulp as you stare into his eyes. It’s a sight you might never get over – it’s the first time a man has succeeded at making you squirt. He’s smiling lazily at you, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his sweaty torso underneath and you think you might as well say goodbye to your vibrator if this is who you’re getting instead.
Good lord, he’s literally perfect.
You break eye contact when his gaze feels too intimidating, as you sit back up and tug a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the wet patch where you’d squirted.
“Taste so good, baby,” he compliments you and you look up to see him closing the distance between you, his shirt already tossed on the floor. He moves a hand back to unclasp your bra, taking it off as he whispers softly in your ear, “You’re so pretty you know that?” you blush at his compliment as you trace your fingers down his abs.
“Eren, I can’t wait any longer,” you plead as your hand moves over his bulge and you unbutton his pants before sliding your hand in to pull out his dick. You gulp as you look down, his cock is painfully hard with precum coating the tip. You glide your thumb over, pulling his foreskin down and he lets out a low groan. Feeling encouraged, your other hand presses against his chest to signal him to lie down. You move with him, lowering yourself till your face is inches away from his tip. You look up to meet his gaze as you pull his pants down along with his boxers to free him completely. You start with tiny kitten licks as you move down his shaft, fingers tracing over gently to tease him.
“Fuck, baby wait,” he breathes out, “I can’t– I need to fuck you first.”
Eren sits up abruptly, pulling your hands away from his cock and giving you a quick peck before jumping out the bed. You observe him as he rummages through his bedside drawer with furrowed eyebrows. He turns to open the tall mirror cabinet next to the door.
“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Do you not have any condoms?” you speak with a slightly dejected tone. His face turns to look at you, the gears in his head working at rapid speed.
“We are fucking tonight or I might just combust into flames,” he declares with a determined look on his face. And you wonder if pulling out has crossed his mind as a considerable option.
Before you can contemplate on it some more, he puts his boxers on and rushes out of his room, leaving the door ajar. You don’t have to wait for long as you see Eren return within a minute. He locks the door behind him, waving a sealed box of condoms in hand with a victorious grin.
“Did you really ask Jean for those?” your jaw drops as you watch him take off his boxers, giving his dick a few pumps to get it fully erect again. He rips a pack with his teeth as he looks up at you.
“What? No! These are Levi’s,” he spits out the piece of wrapper, his eyes fixed on your naked form, “He absolutely hates others going into his room without permission, but he’ll understand… It's an emergency.” Eren winks at you as he slides the rubber along his length before climbing back up on the bed.
“Now… where were we?” He smiles as he pulls you by your leg, guiding it around his waist and you lift your other leg up as well, hooking them over his lower back.
“You were about to fuck me,” you reply to his rhetoric, rubbing circles on his shoulders and batting your eyelashes at him.
“Righttt… better keep my word,” he quips and your giggle turns into a moan when he presses two fingers to your core, parting your folds to slide them up and down at a steady pace. He grabs your right leg to place it over his shoulder, opening you wider than before as he starts pumping his fingers inside you.
“Please– fuck me already,” you wail, growing more desperate than ever.
“Patience bub, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” he speaks coolly, yet his voice feels strained and you can tell he’s just as desperate as you are. You pull his face to yours, kissing him with your tongue dominating this time. He curls his finger to hit the spot inside you, causing you to moan into the kiss as you lose control and he shoves his tongue into your mouth once again.
“Rennie, pleaseee, I want to feel your dick fill me up,” you purr, hoping he’d break at your lewd words. Eren simply hums as he leans his head down to focus his attention on your tits instead, peppering them with sloppy wet kisses and tugging at them with his teeth, earning a moan from you each time.
“Eren!” your intention is to scold him, but it comes out way softer and whinier than intended. Instead Eren repeats your name in the same tone to mock you as he pulls his fingers out and they’re glistening with your slick.
“Spit,” he brings the hand up to your lips. You oblige even when you know it's for the added theatrics – you’re impossibly wet, you don’t need the extra lubricant, yet you gather some saliva on the tip of your tongue, spitting it onto his fingers, eyes still locked with his. He smirks as he brings his hand down again to tap his fingers over your pussy and you close your eyes, head falling back as you hum in anticipation.
You feel him line up the tip of his cock against your core, rubbing his length over your folds a few times. You let out tiny whimpers of approval as he pushes the head in. Your walls adjust to his girth as he slowly shoves in till he’s filled you up to the hilt.
Your nails dig into his skin when your walls flutter around him. You let out an involuntary whimper when you look down to see the way your bodies are connected.
Eren’s eyes follow yours as he tilts his head down, slowly pulling out till only his tip is inside you. He looks back up at you, a devilish grin plastered on his face as you stare at him with knitted brows. He doesn’t have to keep you guessing for long as he slams back into you, bottoming out and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your scream.
He lets out a breathy grunt of disapproval at your action as he grabs both your wrists, pinning them over your head. You slur out a series of ‘yesyesyes’ as Eren starts thrusting into you.
You’re trying your best to not be too loud, aware that there’s a person asleep on the other side of the wall but the way Eren’s dick rams into you has you losing your sanity. You try to hook your left leg to his lower back but his movements are too erratic to hold your leg in place.
Sensing your struggle, he holds both of your wrists together with one hand, bringing the other down to guide your left leg over his shoulder as well.
“God– fuck, Eren, faster,” you cry, shutting your eyes as your back arches off the mattress. Eren obeys as he releases his grip over your hands to hold your waist firmly as his back straightens. Your lower body lifts up with him as his grip tightens to support your balance and this new angle hits better, turning you into a blubbering mess as you chant his name, praising him with broken stutters and moans.
Eren’s movements get sloppier, the slapping against your skin getting weaker as he slows down a bit. You tug his arms in protest, urging him to keep going.
“Baby– fuck– I’ll come if I don’t slow down,” he moans as he shuts his eyes. You extend your arms out to pull at his biceps with some force but he barely moves. “Wanna make you feel good… come for me ‘Ren,” you encourage him.
Eren lets out a low ‘fuck’ as he picks up his pace again simultaneously while pressing his chest into yours to fold you in half. His hips snap with an ungodly force, moving your body slightly up each time he thrusts into you. He holds you in place by slightly pressing his body weight on top of yours, dipping his head down to suck the skin over your neck.
“Shit– I’m–” Eren’s voice breaks as you feel his dick twitch inside you as he comes, slowing down before stopping completely. He rests his sweaty forehead against yours as you slide your legs down his shoulders, letting them fall limply to the sides.
“Sorry baby, I don’t usually come so fast. I don’t know what happened,” he sighs, hot breath fanning your face.
“Shh… it's okay,” you smile at him as you play with his hair lazily. He wraps his arms around your torso before rolling over to lie on his back with you on top of him.
“Seriously, what are you doing to me?” he mumbles, rubbing his hands up and down your back.
“Hmm?” you look at him in confusion. He lets out a breathy chuckle as he tucks the stray strands of hair behind your ear before cupping your face to squish your cheeks.
“I can’t control myself when I’m with you,” he lifts his head up to kiss you, “blessed be the day I decided to change my gym schedule.”
You giggle at his confession before tilting your head to the side in thought. The question pops up in your head, “Why didn’t you talk to me first?”
“Because I was worried you’d shoot me down instantly, thinking I’m a creep or something,” he explains and you look at him expectantly so he continues, “You know how you were always alone, not bothering anyone – I figured you hated interacting with people unnecessarily.”
“Well, that’s partially true… but I would’ve accepted your advances with open arms,” you spread your arms out to collapse your entire weight onto his body, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
“Damn… we missed about 3 months of fuckin–” you cover his mouth with your hand and feel his torso vibrate under you as he laughs before biting your hand lightly. You instantly pull your hand away and he continues, “All I’m saying is that we need to catch up.”
“We’ve fucked enough for one night,” you laugh as you pull your body away to lie down next to him. He turns to lie on his side to look at you, fingers tracing along the expanse of your chest before dipping down to the valley of your stomach.
“No, we haven’t. I haven’t made you come yet,” he argues as his fingers move further down. You blink at him, dumbfounded.
“But I did?”
“But you didn’t… not with my dick inside you. It doesn’t count,” he explains matter-of-factly and you let out a snort. He lazily plays with your folds, rubbing feather-light circles over the area.
“Rennie, I’m tired,” you protest but your body moves at its own accord as you grab his forearm to push it closer to your core.
“I’d warned you I was a ruthless workout partner,” Eren lets out a humourless chuckle, pressing his entire palm over your mound. Your voice strains as you snicker at his joke before you look at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes. You cup his cheek, and despite feeling the weight of your whole body sinking into the mattress due to how sore everything feels, you lean towards him to kiss him as a new wave of desire stirs inside you.
Eren breaks away to get off the bed as he discards the used condom into the bin and grabs a fresh one off the table. You sit up, hand moving to your shoulder to massage as far as you can reach, feeling the stiffness in your entire back.
“All good?” he asks when he notices you.
“Hmm… could you please get me some water?” you reply and he nods his head, walking out to the kitchen, not bothering to cover himself up this time.
You make your way to the washroom before he returns, feeling the fatigue really settle in with every step you take. You just know you’re gonna have the most peaceful sleep after. When you’re done peeing, you stare at your reflection in his bathroom mirror. There’s a faint black trail around your eyes and your lipstick’s almost non-existent, except for the light stain in patches.
Knowing you’d be too tired after round two, you decide to wash your face with the cleanser you find on the shelf. When your face looks less of a mess, you walk out into the bedroom and find Eren sitting on the edge of the bed, drinking from the water bottle.
He stands up and walks to you, handing the bottle to you. Feeling your throat dry up, you gulp the water down hurriedly.
“Here,” he hands you a towel and you swap the two items, dabbing your face with the towel. Eren tosses the empty bottle over the clothes bundled up on the floor before pulling you by your wrist to him, kissing your nose and grinning at you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You notice his lips also have the faint patchy stains of your lipstick and let out a chuckle as you bring the towel to wipe it off his mouth.
“Thank you, m’lady,” he snorts, pressing his lips to yours and you smile into the kiss. You feel the butterflies in your stomach once again and it’s as if he’s kissing you for the first time all over again.
“So stiff…” He frowns as he pulls away and turns you around so that your back is facing him. He puts his magical fingers to work as he massages all the kinks out of your back. You feel your body slump, lolling your neck to the front as you relax into his touch. It’s short lived however, when you feel a spank on your right buttcheek.
“Hey!” you complain as you move forward and away from him on instinct.
“Come here,” he laughs as he pulls you back in, pressing your back to his front. It’s when you feel his already erect dick against your tailbone that you realise he’d already put on another condom while you were in the bathroom.
How foolish of you to almost think he was massaging your back as aftercare!
His left arm is wrapped around your tiny waist, palm pressing you firmly into him as he takes a step back to sit on the bed, pulling you onto his lap. He readjusts his position so that you’re directly in front of the tall mirror.
Eren spreads your legs open with his own, grabbing your thighs as his knees buckle forward to restrict your movement, keeping you from closing them. He pulls your hands behind your back, pressing them there between your bodies. Your eyes meet in the reflection as his hands come up to brush your hair away from your face and twisting it at the back. His left hand toys with one of your hardened nipples while his other hand glides down your belly, fingers leaving ghost touches over your folds.
You knit your eyebrows together as it gets harder to hold his gaze – partly due to how intense his stare feels and partly due to how naked you feel in that moment, baring it all for him. He smirks as he lowers his head to your neck, eyes not wavering even for a second.
He licks a strip up your neck at the same time his fingers start playing with your cunt vigorously. You let out a guttural whine, closing your eyes shut as your head falls back against his shoulder.
“Eyes open pet… watch the way I fuck you,” he orders, slapping your folds lightly. Desperate to find a surface to grab, you free your right hand to claw at his bicep while your other hand bunches up the fabric of the bedsheet near his thigh.
Eren lets out a low chuckle as he starts pumping two fingers inside you, and you scream his name shamelessly between broken moans. He pulls his fingers out to grab his painfully erect cock, lining it up at your entrance. You squirm against him as he brings his other hand up to your jaw, fingers digging in your cheeks as he whispers against your ear, “I told you to look, I won’t repeat again.”
Your chest heaves rapidly as you open your eyes to meet his gaze in the reflection once again. “Eren… fuck– pleaseee,” you plead, and in that moment you’re not sure whether it’s for him to go easy on you or to shove his dick into you without further delay. So, he decides for himself, opting for the latter.
Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to keep them open when he slams his hips up, rutting his entire length into you. He digs at your waist with both hands, bouncing you on his dick at the same time he thrusts up, skin slapping loudly against each other. Your body twitches as you sob at the sensation.
“Stop– fuck– squeezing me so tightly,” he grunts as he increases the pace. You twist your torso to look back at him, hands moving up to tug at his hair roughly as you pull him closer for a kiss. As he continues grinding his cock, you moan into his mouth each time his tip kisses your g-spot, rubbing oh-so-deliciously against your walls.
“Eren– oh god–yesyes,” you cry and he brings his hand down to your clit. Your brain goes into overdrive as your body shivers into his arms. Eren relentlessly fucking into you and stimulating your sensitive nub simultaneously is too much for you to handle. You bite your bottom lip so hard, you’re sure it’s gonna bruise later as your toes curl in, your orgasm washing over you.
Eren presses your convulsing body close to his in an attempt to still your movements, his thrusts getting sloppy as he tries to steady his legs on the floor.
“‘Is too much–” you cry as your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs.
“Almost there– shit–fuck,” his breathing gets ragged as you feel his dick twitch inside your walls, the muscles of his legs tensing under you before relaxing completely as he finally slows down before stopping completely.
He rests his sweaty forehead against your back as his grip on you loosens. He kisses your skin lightly but your back jerks away from his touch. You get up off his lap before collapsing on the bed.
“Too sensitive,” you mumble as you look up at the ceiling, resting a hand on your forehead. Your breathing settles a bit and you look back down to see him discarding the condom into the bin. He puts his boxers back on before rummaging through his closet. He finds one of his oversized anime t-shirts, but instead of wearing it himself, he brings it to you.
As he leans over you on the bed, he brings his knuckles up to wipe the tears off your face. You sit up slowly, lifting your hands up so that he can put his t-shirt on you. You smile at him with tired eyes and he smiles back, cupping your face.
“Was that too much?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as his eyes search yours for any signs of discomfort.
You shake your head no, “It was perfect.”
“Told you I only brag when I know I'm good,” he smiles softly, kissing your forehead as he lies you back down, pulling the blanket to cover your bodies. You hum as he pulls you into his chest, patting your head gently.
“You did so good, baby. Get some sleep,” he whispers and you feel your body melting into his as you wrap your arm around his waist.
“‘Ren… I have the biggest crush on you,” you mumble as you close your eyes.
“I have an even bigger one on you,” he speaks softly, still caressing your skin with his fingertips.
“Oh yeah… definitely the biggest,” you whisper as your lips curl up, feeling proud of your stupid joke. He lets out a soft chuckle and by the lazy motion of his fingers, you can tell he’s pretty tired too.
“Good night, bub.”
You want to talk to him and tell him just how crazy you are for him and how tonight has been the best night of your life but your tongue feels heavy as sleep takes over your thoughts, shutting them off completely.
You decide you’ll tell him about how much you adore him when you wake up, “Good night, baby.”
You move your heavy hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat. As you drift deeper into your slumber, the last thing you note is the way your heart beats against your chest, in sync with his beating under your touch.
~~~
“No, that’s not what I– Eren! Stop it!” you break out into a fit of laughter as you grab his wrists to stop him from tickling you. He’s caged you between his body and the kitchen counter, your breakfast sizzling on the pan next to you.
“Okayyy fineeee,” he rolls his eyes at you dramatically before leaning in to kiss you for what seems like the hundredth time since you woke up.
“Baby, aren’t my pants too loose for you? Let me fix it,” he teases, tugging at the drawstrings of his joggers that you're wearing.
“No… I’m not falling for the same trick again.” You giggle into the kiss as you ruffle his hair to mess it up.
“Jeez, are you guys still at it?” you hear a voice from the doorway of the kitchen and pull away to look at the man. Jean walks in, looking grumpy and sleep-deprived, yawning as he walks to the refrigerator. “How thin are your walls? It almost felt like I was the one getting fucked.”
“Cry about it to Reiner,” Eren lets out a dry chuckle before wrapping his arms around you once again. He bites your earlobe, causing you to giggle softly as you slap his chest lightly.
Jean simply rolls his eyes at this, rushing out of the kitchen with the entire box of cereal, milk carton and bowl in hand.
“He forgot to take a spoon,” you observe when Jean’s out of your sight completely. Eren chuckles before lifting you up till you’re seated on the counter. You press your palm to his chest, creasing the fabric of his t-shirt as he leans forward, kissing down your neck and tugging at the hem of your t-shirt.
“Gonna make him wish he’d shoved the cereal down his throat with his hands instead,” Eren laughs but it doesn’t exactly sound like a joke.
Evidently so, Eren’s hands move under your t-shirt to play with your tits as he shuts you up with a kiss before you have a chance to talk some sense into him.
~ fin ~
#erensbirdie#aot x reader#eren x reader#eren yeager x reader#eren smut#eren yeager#eren jaeger#aot x you#aot smut#aot#attack on titan
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Hello! I hope you're well :)
Would you so kindly be able to do an Emily Prentiss x victim child!reader where reader is kind of young, maybe like between 6-10 and they've been held captive by the UnSub for weeks now and when the team finally finds the location, reader has gone mute and very cautious/scared of everyone and only allows (to an extent) Emily near them? Since she's the one who first finds them? Emily is very patient and comforts reader even if they don't speak and such. But reader eventually becomes comfortable enough to speak again, using short sentences and few words with Emily (maybe even some other team members, too).
Emily could possibly take them in but that part can be up to you!
I can't wait to see more of your work btw, you're so good!! Thx! Xoxo 💘
⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topics of abuse, trauma, child neglecting, punishments and the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.
Authors note: I have tried my best to accommodate this request. I have to say that I changed the request a little because I didn't want to write a 6 year old child being kidnapped by a stranger, so I just had to do it with the father who has a criminal record. I also had to shorten it and basically skip a period of time in order to fulfill the second part of the request. I hope it is still okay. Also had to split it into two parts, Tumblr wouldn't let me post it all at once ♥
ᕚ---ᕘ
Walls. Excessive tightness.
You did not know how long you had been in that closet, and you did not want to know either. Far too exhausted from all the panic attacks and the walls threatening to crush you. Your stomach was growling like it had been ever since your father decided to punish you for everything you did.
Your hands were shaking, your eyes were glassy, but you were long past crying. That only made things worse. Your father knew no mercy, and certainly not for his scared and crying little daughter.
Sometimes you imagined what it would be like if you actually suffocated in that closet. Better to suffocate from the reducing air than to be suffocated by your own father. You would not grow old, you would not reach the age of 10. You were sure of that. You were convinced that something would happen to you before your next birthday. But so far you had gotten older every year and every birthday you were sure that it would be your last.
Your father would not let you sleep in your bed anymore, but at least today it was in the closet and not in the gazebo that you had to sleep in. It was late autumn and in the arbor, the roof of which had tiny holes, there was a risk of hypothermia and finally freezing to death. Your hand, which was squeezed between the closet door and your thigh, had now fallen asleep and despite your constant shaking, you felt immensely hot. You noticed your face starting to glow again- you had a fever from the cold that blew through the room at night. You carefully pulled your hand out from under your leg, hitting your head on one of the wooden insert panels of the shelves, causing a dull thud as it came loose and fell onto your body.
Your heart skipped a beat before stopping briefly, you squinted for a moment, hoping that the noise had gone unnoticed and that your father had disappeared from his guarding position in front of the closet and was downstairs in front of the TV. But then you heard footsteps, quiet and muffled through the ajar door and the wood that surrounded you. It sounded nothing like your father and his firm, jagged steps and you begged that you had not misheard and were now in for a lot of trouble.
The door creaked and your breathing became increasingly quicker. You did not mishear. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to calm yourself and prepare yourself for what was to come. If your father saw you so upset, he might keep you here longer or deny you food for the next few days.
The key turned in the lock that locked the two doors together and you heard them slowly open, but did not dare to look outside. The fear of provoking your father when you greedily gasped for fresh air and light was too great. You felt a slight breeze on your bare shoulders and cheeks. Still, you kept your eyes closed, hoping to avoid your fate.
Instead of your father's disapproving shouts and rough hands that would normally drag you out of the closet, there was only a careful, barely noticeable touch on your shoulder. When you raised your eyes, you saw a strange woman with black hair. "Hey, sweetie. I am from the police, you are safe now," the older woman's eyes were glassy. She seemed unsettled, as if she was afraid of breaking you with one wrong move, as if you were made of delicate mass. "You can come out now, your father can not hurt you anymore."
You nodded and a few moments later she had pulled you out of the closet, carefully and slowly so as not to hurt you, and immediately drawn you into her arms. You just let it happen, completely unable to understand that this was a foreign woman you were clinging to.
Your father had forbidden you from speaking to strangers and your fear of upsetting your dad was huge. But something about her voice made you give in. "I am Emily. What is your name?" she asked and rubbed your back soothingly, your courage to speak failing you. When the rest of her team stormed into the room a moment later and looked down at you in front of the open door, you panicked and shook yourself away from her before returning to the closet where you felt safe.
A hand signal directed to Derek and Hotch, they disappeared silently from the bare room with the remaining SWAT workers and left her alone with you. It took some time for you to gain confidence and crawl out of the wooden wardrobe again. The young woman had talked her head off with various topics in order to give you a feeling of reassurance.
You followed Emily's hand movements carefully, and at the sight of the little package of gummy bears, your mouth watered and your stomach began to make itself known. "Someone is really hungry!" She whispered and smiled softly before opening the small package and holding it out to you.
You carefully sat up, occasionally glancing at the door so that you could move back into the closet as quickly as possible in case of an emergency. But nothing happened. The black-haired woman pointed uncertainly but grinning at the package. "The green ones are my favorite. And what are yours?" you rummaged through the tiny package with your fingers until you held a red gummy bear between your fingers and showed it to her. "The red ones? Uhh, they are yummy!"
You jumped away while the first bite, she had raised her hand too quickly. She shook her head, swallowing hard. Emily had not thought for a split second. “Can I feel your forehead?”she asked after a short hesitation and you nodded, afraid of upsetting her like your father, granting her permission.
She gently placed her hand on your sweat-covered forehead. You were feverish. She slowly lowered her hand carefully again and watched you as you hesitantly gnawed on a gummy bear. Your father did not like it when you just wolfed down your food and often had taken it away when fell into a deep hunger.
Emily continued to watch you, her eyes sad and exhausted. You cocked your head, wondering if you had done something wrong. When your eyes met for a moment, you hesitantly reached for her free hand and placed her favorite gummy bear in her palm.
You found a kind of care and hope in her presence. Hope that you can still lead a normal life and never be locked in the closet by your father again. Emily caught the very first smile you gave her before you stood up and carefully fell into her arms. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" she giggled softly, her heart swelling and beginning to pound wildly.
"No,"
Surprisingly, she widened her eyes while keeping her mouth wide open. After hours spent in this cold room with only forensics downstairs doing their work, she had finally managed to hear your gentle and childlike voice.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds angst#criminalminds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds imagine#criminam minds imagines#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds x reader#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss fic#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss x fem!reader#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss oneshot#emily prentiss imagines#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss#fanifc#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#imagines#imagine
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