#these two's mess might actually be lovely for each of them
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god I haven't mentioned it enough here. Myths of the Realm is my enemy. easily my least favorite 24-man- or rather it's my least favorite raid series of either type.
probably made worse by pandaemonium being genuinely very good? the contrast was stark.
weak answer to the question of the twelve's nature, very unambitious and mediocre visual designs that were largely too married to visual fidelity to boring statues and card designs. some real disney's hercules shit. there were some innovative or appealing elements here and there: nald'thal was genuinely great visually and conceptually, I actually respect the concept of making menphina a magical girl instead of a generically hotsexy love goddess, byregot's halo of nails, uh... the models for thalaos and perykos looked good? but overall they were a bunch of very boring idealized humans.
and my god eulogia is the ugliest thing. eulogia might actually be the most hideous execution of a concept in the game yet, you might as well just clip all of the models of the twelve into each other and play their animations at once and get the same effect. zero elegance, zero thoughtful design. it's actually shocking to see in a game where we got perfect omega as a raid boss once upon a time. even eden's promise, while superficially a hot mess, is a hot mess because it pays homage to extant depictions of artemis! art history is why it looks like that! eulogia looks like the artists were asked to recreate knife dad from monster factory using ffxiv assets.
and you might ask, well, are the mechanics of the fights better than the boss designs? absolutely not. week one aglaia was a little fun, because there being a chance of failure to people not knowing the trick of the meteors in the rhalgr fight or panicking during the nald'thal scales instead of just deliberately failing the mechanic to waste everyone's time. gear creep destroyed any chance of interacting with most of the fun bits of aglaia, and they didn't repeat that "mistake" in the other two, which were boring and easy from the jump. just an absolute void of challenge or chaos. why even bother putting mechanics into your raid at that point, apparently that's only for savage.
and the rewards... boy I hope you like ugly yellow-gold saint seiya armor and generic draping faux-hellenistic robes and vague suggestions of togas. I hope you fucking gluttons for endless less-problematic rehashes of ancient greek mythology like gaudy costume jewelry and sandals and meaningless neoclassical flourishes. did you want gear that might look like something your character would wear in a city they've visited or that has a connection to a historical aesthetic? I guess if you make believe you can stretch a tenuous bond from this tacky armor to the uniform robes and masks of the ancients. ostensibly. since we all know the ancients didn't have a societal taboo about ornamentation or making your clothes individualized or anything.
so what did we achieve? did we learn anything? turns out the twelve were real all along, but also powerless except in the specific context of having flashy anime duels with the warrior of light. it's VERY important that we say they aren't primals, because primals are only summoned by primitive subhumans like the ixal and the garleans. but we do need you to fight them to return their aether to the star because... they're definitely not primals! no. not primals. primals are fake gods, and the twelve are *aetheric constructs* based on *real people* made by *hydaelyn*, which means they're good and Not Primals. the mechanic by which they visually reflect the beliefs of their followers? definitely not the same as the one that does that for primals. their nebulous dependence on the faith of eorzeans? totally unrelated to primals, because it's apparently important for the ego of the players that *their* god is real and not fake, which makes them ontologically good and righteous.
and it's definitely satisfying to find out that the goddess whose name gave weight and gravity to the reveal of the warrior of light's past incarnation and their name... is called that because she was a failed candidate for that role? she's a consolation prize sun goddess?
for that matter it's definitely satisfying to find out that the twelve are just recreations of venat's boring ancient friends, who are largely nameless and have no significance to you or your interaction with the past aside from a mediocre sidequest. oh it's so thrilling to know that the god of crafting used to be hytholdaeus's coworker. this would mean so much to me if he had any role in the setting beyond a skill name and a rock sitting in an overworld zone.
admittedly it would also suck for the reveal to be "actually eorzea's gods did create the world and are all-powerful, boy it sure is silly that those delusional foreigners are out here worshipping kami and manusya and mrga and primals which are all FAKE, as opposed to us (non-beastman) eorzeans who have the literal mandate of heaven"
but surely there's a more elegant solution (ambiguity, leaving questions instead of a glut of answers, not making this raid series at all). was this really the best they could come up with?
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Tarn's Symptoms:
Crying at the drop of a hat
Rapid mood swings
Unbearably horny
Nauseous constantly
Hip joints go out of alignment early and Nickel has to relock them
T-Cog manually disables early which forces him to confront his addiction causing further stress
Inflamed joints and Dull paint and peeling
Outlier ability fritzing
Rodimus's Super Awesome Game Plan (He named it himself and got Velocity to help)
Constantly reassuring Tarn how graceful and lovely and srong he is.
Distracting him with various music or things he is allowed to shoot or treats or a ped rub as needed
Having a "emergency button" for Tarn so he can ditch at the drop of a hat to go "service" him
Has a constant supply of anti nausea pills and jewel teas for Tarn to drink and massages over his fuel tank (which allegedly helps)
Specially deisgned berth pad and pillows from Perceptor
Holds his hand through Rung sessions and gets First Aid to repair them before Tarn notices they got crushed
Massaging and oil baths reserved through "co-captain rights"
An auto trigger to turn off everyone in the vicinities audials
Rodimus is determined to get a good score in parenting/relationship which is totally possible and normal to want. Tarn has decided Rodimus lives in the future where Decepticons win. Also he may name their eldest.
Omgggg I've grown to adore these two in the quick—what— hour that we've had them? Rodimus is absolutely trying to ace the test called parenting and tbh ykw I suggest he does do so!
Tarn's absurdly jealous energy is being tempered by how damn loving and attentive Rodimus is, because I heavily HC that a lot of Roddie's past romantic experience has been less than satisfactory. Both of them are absolutely soaking in each other's attention.
#maccadam#transformers#rodimus x tarn#mtmte rodimus#mtmte tarn#these two's mess might actually be lovely for each of them#roddie is gonna get so many bonus points and extra credit because i say so#also he 100% will hit that emergency button as an excuse to get out of stuff#propagate#stage seven: breeding season
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✎ all of me
- gojo satoru x reader
you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most
genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff
note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.
"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"
But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.
Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.
"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.
"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"
Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.
Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."
You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"
Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.
But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.
"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."
"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"
"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."
"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"
And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―
"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."
Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.
And all these thoughts only made you angrier.
"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."
With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.
But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.
In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.
With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―
It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.
But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.
Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.
. . .
None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—
Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—
Of you no longer by his side.
“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”
You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.
“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.
“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.
“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.
He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.
Don't compare me to you.
With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”
“…really?”
“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."
“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”
A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.
You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"
He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.
"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."
"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.
You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.
That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.
. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.
"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"
He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.
Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—
His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.
He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.
"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.
And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.
"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.
Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.
They hurt you.
"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."
He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.
"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"
Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.
"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"
Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.
The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"
He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.
At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.
It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.
"It's Gojo Satoru!"
"Run! Ruuuun!"
What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."
Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.
And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.
Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.
It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—
At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.
But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—
"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.
He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.
You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.
"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.
"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"
The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.
"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.
"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"
Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.
You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?
A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.
Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.
He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.
And yet what happened?
If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.
Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.
Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—
"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.
His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.
"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."
Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.
"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."
You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."
Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.
Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"
Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"
"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"
And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."
The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.
When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.
The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.
Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.
You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.
So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.
You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.
In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"
And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.
"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.
Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."
But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.
"O-our—"
"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."
A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."
But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.
"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.
"No... I feel fine now."
"Then, can I hug you?"
Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.
You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.
"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"
“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”
It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.
"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."
He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."
"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.
"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."
You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.
“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”
So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.
Epilogue
"Papa, how do I become stronger?"
Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"
His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."
Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.
"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."
"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"
"What ways?"
"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"
"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"
"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"
"Everything...?"
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk gojo#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru imagines#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff
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Cw: Nsfw (Simon notices the outline of your thong that’s hidden under your yoga pants)
Simon isn’t even sure whether you’re doing this intentionally, trying to tease him, or you truly doesn’t realize how you’re testing his restraint, how he’s trying so hard not to just push you against the nearest wall in the gym and go down on you right now.
Your back is facing him, just standing few feet away in front of him, wearing that tight yoga pants emphasizing your supple thighs and ass in the most delectable way, squatting and let out tiny grunts here and there. The worst part is, he can see the thong you’re hiding behind the yoga pants, the outline of it so clearly for him, good that it’s just you two in the gym now, or he might just drag you back home and hide you from others’ ogling.
“Hey, what-“ His hands grab onto your arm the second you set down the dumbbell, your yelps and confusion doesn’t recognize by him as he shoves open an empty shower room and pin you against the wall, his bulge pressing snuggly on your pussy.
He’s mad hard, already leaving a dark spot on his sweatpants as he rubs it against your core shamelessly.
“You doing this on purpose, princess?” Pulling down your yoga pants, hooking a finger over the thin strip of your thong, he tugs it with a slight grin, letting it slap back against your hips. And that’s when you realize that the outline of your thongs’ actually visible even with the pants on.
“I didn’t mean it, Simon.” The noise of the running shower can’t cover your moans and attempted explaining, because he frees his thick, leaking cock from his boxers, chest securing you to the tiles, so he’s able to drag that aching shaft along your pussy, fucking your pussy lips and prodding at the clit till you’re a blabbering mess.
“Didn’t mean it? but you still made it hard for me, love.” The bulb tip slide into your soaking cunt easily. He calms himself and pants beside your ears, trying not to come immediately from how tight and warm your heavenly pussy feels. “You know how sexy you were when doing those squats, shoving your arse towards me, and kept reminding me you had a bloody thong that couldn’t even cover your pussy properly under the yoga pants?”
He rocks his hips fiercely, letting out all the pent-up horniness with each deep thrust, directly abusing the sweet spots and coaxing moans after moans from you.
The usually quiet man groans loudly every time he wrenches an orgasm out of you, the shower wash off your juices dripping down your thighs, before your eyes roll back and cry out, messing them with both his and your cum.
“Gonna come…ngh, fuck…” Seeing stars can’t describe how cock drunk you are now when you squeeze your cunt around his cock and tumble over the edge, the white hot pleasure corrupting your mind, overstimulated to your limits when he hisses—almost comes too early from your spasming walls and pinch your clit as retaliation.
“Fuck, going to paint your pretty little pussy with my cum again…gotta-oh fuck” Simon’s voice trembles when slamming into you one last time, filling you up nice and tight with his release. He leans his forehead against your shoulder, recovering from the aftershocks of orgasms together with you.
“-Gotta claim this fucking pussy again, 's all mine, yeah?” Murmuring and pressing a tender kiss to your nape, he grabs the soap and start cleaning you up, more from the aftermath of the sloppy make-out than your previous workout.
#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#cod x you#female reader#nighttimealone
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”
Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”
“Wait, I’m just here to-”
“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”
Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.
“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.
“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”
Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”
“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”
Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.
“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”
“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”
“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.
“So, what brings you to Gotham?”
Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”
“You go to school?”
“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”
“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”
Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?
“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”
Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?
"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"
Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"
"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"
"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."
Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."
Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."
"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.
'Careful,' Black Bat signed.
"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"
Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.
'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.
"You know sign language?"
"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."
He knew ghost-sign first, after all.
"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."
----
Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.
"You two can come back anytime."
Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.
"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."
"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"
"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."
Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.
----
"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"
Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.
"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."
"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.
"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"
"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.
"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.
"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"
"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"
#batman#danny phantom#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#bruce wayne#bruce has already adopted this kid#just not with paperwork#but that's a trivial matter for BatDad#he's also going to adopt both tucker and sam#dcxdp#sea cryptic! danny au
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˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33
“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”
You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.
“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.
Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”
“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”
No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.
Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”
You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.
“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.
“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.
“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”
Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.
“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.
“Liar.”
For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.
“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.
“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”
“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”
“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.
“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.
“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.
“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”
Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.
“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”
He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”
Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.
Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.
That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.
Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”
“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”
Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”
“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”
“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.
“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”
Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.
“Baby.”
Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.
“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.
“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”
And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#stray kids soft thoughts#stray kids soft hours#skz fanfic#skz x you#stray kids x you#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin x you#hwang hyujin imagines#hyunjin soft thoughts#hyunjin scenarios
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A Ballad of Lost Souls
Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader
Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say
Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome
WC: 5.7K I’m sorry
Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer
A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.
You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here.
You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.
Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in.
You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful.
Eric remembered that.
The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.
Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.
The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.
You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name.
Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares.
Shit, were you supposed to say something?
You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face.
Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him.
~~~
You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it.
He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.
“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.
“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.”
You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.
“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets.
“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.
Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder.
“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.
“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”
You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head.
“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.
“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.
He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”
You smiled.
~~~~~~
“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.
You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.
“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room.
“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.
“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.
“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.
“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.
“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.
“Yeah, so?”
You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.
“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.
Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.
“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.
He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes.
Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.
“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”
“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”
“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.
“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.
“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.
“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.
Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better.
You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.
His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his.
“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.”
He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.
You could not wait to see him again.
~~~~~~
“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.
You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.
“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you.
“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.
Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours.
You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit.
“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot.
Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you.
“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face.
With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.
“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm.
“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left.
“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”
He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.
“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.
“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”
You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.
~~~~~
The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.
“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.
“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.
“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass.
“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.
“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.
“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.
“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”
You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck.
“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”
“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.
“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”
“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.”
His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.
“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.
“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days.
Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs.
“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.
His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big.
“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.
“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.
“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.
“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”
You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.
“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?”
You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.
“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.”
You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul.
“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”
“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.”
Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak.
“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.
“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down.
Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself.
Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.
“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.
“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.”
You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.
“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”
“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”
“Yeah, forever.”
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the more I play the more I think lucanis basically knows it's illario who betrayed him right from the beginning (he's had a year in the ossuary to think. not that many people knew where he was going. when you ask him 'did Illario know you'd be on that ship' his only answer is the hardest flattest 'yes' you ever heard). so it's not so much about figuring out who the traitor is (because that's ludicrous. we all know. immediately. they didn't really bother to hide it lmao) as about methodically closing off every single avenue of denial lucanis has clung to that whole time with as much or little gentleness as you might prefer until he has no choice but to admit it. because the moment he has to admit it, he'll have to do something -- feel something -- about it. and that's such a catastrophic event in lucanis' inner landscape (he has had TWO people in this whole entire world up until now and will do anything to hold on to them with a heartbreaking child-like desperation, even at and especially through the detriment of his own self) that he'd rather just. not. what if we quite simply. didn't. what if we just stayed here in the emptiness where we can both pretend you didn't hurt me in a way I should never forgive. I have so much practice in that with caterina already it's always worked out great for everyone so far. (press x to fucking doubt but that's trauma logic for you lol)
after everything illario did, so much of the storm of lucanis' emotions around it is 'what the FUCK did you get yourself tangled up in this time and how do I get you out of this mess safely'. what's worse: the fact that your brother murdered you, or that he put himself in horrible danger doing so and thus exposed you to the risk of losing him forever. lucanis' heart certainly has an opinion here and it's fucking unhinged (affectionate)
the themes of dissociation in lucanis' character in general makes me feel nuts. allllll these contradictory messy things he needs to cut off from each other because they can't coexist or be easily reconciled inside him. but all remain stubbornly true separately anyway and will have their due one day. love and resentment. tenderness and fear and rage. terror and longing. love and freedom don't coexist. the burned out golden child anthem is playing in the background. he was always caterina's favourite and he has to keep striving to deserve that dubious honour with every breath he takes and then, presumably, mercifully, some day he will die and be excused and can rest. and until now he's suppressed all the -- natural, healthy, protective! -- negative feelings that threaten the few attachment relationships he actually has, at the cost of ever actually having his needs for connection and safety met and leaving his core self imprisoned and compromised. and spite goes 'what. no. that's dumb fuck that' (*spite voice* I do not understand that and even if I did I would not respect it) and does not allow him to fall back into that, which I think is what saves his life, ultimately. it took being possessed by a demon for lucanis to even contemplate telling anyone he loves 'no' in any way, but hey. whatever gets you there right lol
lucanis is dealing with the freeze response allll the way down baby. and he was even before the ossuary, that just turbo powered it and brought it to a breaking point way before it could happen naturally. but something was going to break eventually no matter what, and I'm just glad that in the end, through the power of friendship and also pure spite, it doesn't have to be him
#I am worried about him all the time. but also: his found family of godslaying maniacs and also the power of love. there are reasons to hope#when there was only one set of footprints in the sand that was the veilguard party holding lucanis in their arms#and going 'excuse you he said no FUCKING pickles!!!' while he's like '🥺should you guys really be -- ' 'YES'#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age meta#there's some messiness to his arc but what mary kirby managed to capture here about how this works. is everything to me#he is so exactly for me. I'm sorry for all the people he turned out not to be for. but not for him being for me#the gift of looking at him and hearing 'you're more than what you're going through' and be forced to annoyedly go 'okay#MAYBE that could be also be true for me. maybe.' he's going through it. and also so much more and the funniest person in the world#he's so worth it to still have in the world!!!!#I'm so glad we don't get to 'fix' his relationship with his family and especially caterina actually#that is stuff that would need to happen on a time scale waaay outside of the one in this game#and there's Something very real in having to go 'this is not for me to decide for you. who you love and what you do about it is yours'
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Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist
Welcome to the Steve x HendersonSister! Universe! I have so many ideas for these two, and will probably never go through them all, but I wanted to keep them in one place! They will not be posted in chronological order, but I will list them here that way. Hope you enjoy!
Idiotic Decisions - Working on a project with douchebag Steve Harrington was not something you were looking forward to doing. However, you’re surprised to find that maybe he’s just a little less of a jerk than you thought. (Season 1)
Disappointed Revelations - After working on a school project together, you had actually started to believe that there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eye. All of that changes after an interaction with Jonathan Byers. (Season 1)
The Evolution of Friendship - After Steve is attacked by Billy Hargrove, you’re shocked to find the guy still attempting to protect you as you two go into the hub to try and buy Eleven some more time. It makes you wonder. Are you and Steve Harrington actually … friends? (Season 2)
Hold Me Tight - Ever since Prom, Steve and you had been growing closer to crossing that line from friendship to something more. During a hot summer day, a little more of that line gets crossed. (Before Season 3)
Conversations On Top of an Elevator - Well, your brother has gotten you and Steve into another mess, this time on top of a Russian elevator. While Steve stresses out, you reassure him that you’ve gotten out of this shit before, you can do it again. (Season 3)
Saving Steve - Steve Harrington has already saved your life, so it’s time to return the favor. Little did you know that would feel a little less like an action movie and more like taking care of rowdy toddlers. (Season 3)
You Feel the Same? - The tension that’s been rising between you and Steve all summer has finally been set to boiling after spending time trapped in Russian elevators together and overhearing his confession to Robin about the new girl he likes who sounds suspiciously like you. After everything, you don’t care if it ends up burning you anymore. You just know you can’t waste another second not being with him. (Season 3)
Those Three Little Words - 18+ ONLY. Steve gets upset when he finds a letter on your table from Indiana University, and it forces the two of you to confess something you’ve been trying to say for a while now. (Before Season 4)
Reunions and Future Plans - For the first time in a long time, you and Steve haven’t seen each other in three weeks since you started college. So he decides to surprise you. (Before Season 4)
Holding You to That - Steve Request. You go to get your boyfriend Steve from Family Video when Robin tells you you’re a distraction, and of course you’re not! Okay, maybe a little. (Before Season 4)
A Not So Good Day - It’s Spring Break in Hawkins, and you can already tell that it’s going to be a great, relaxing time. Well, until you find out that your best friend might be dead and the gate to the Upside Down might not be as closed as you thought. (Season 4)
Finding Eddie - After a long day of trying to find Eddie, you, Steve, your brother, Robin and Max all find your way to Reefer Rick’s house where the time finally comes to tell the truth to your ex-best friend. (Season 4)
Watergate - Dustin has a theory that there’s a new gate, and Nancy has a suspicion of where it might be. The best swimmer needs to go to the bottom of Lover’s Lake and check it out. Unfortunately, much to Steve’s displeasure, that happens to be you. (Season 4)
Travelin' Man - Well, you didn’t love Eddie’s plan, but you also didn’t see many other options. (Season 4)
Saving the World or Not - Steve’s gone off to fight Vecna while you’ve stayed behind to distract the bats. What could possibly go wrong? (Season 4)
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#stranger things imagine
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So y'all have seen the Williams F1 Logo before, yeah?
well get ready, becaues I am about to ruin your day!
where does one even begin with this. i am sorry in advance. -just a poor learning graphic design student, who simply tried to enjoy their saturday evening
The Logo
For anyone that doesn't know, here's the Williams F1 Logo. Entirely unedited, copied straight from Wikipedia:
Now like many fans, I actually quite enjoy this logo. I like the modern, sharp edges of it and it's simple yet intriguiging design. It's memorable, while also easily recognizable as a W. I also really enjoy the colour choice (this, however, is entirely a personal preference.)
(entire rant under the cut. please keep reading this took years off my life span.)
How did we even get here?
Let's start at the beginning. How did we even get here? Well I, a poor poor learning graphic designer, was watching this lovely video from Mr. V's Garage about bad F1 Logo's over the past 35 or so seasons. Very interesting, I can only recommend it (but you don't need to watch the video to understand this post)!
Now, to cleanse the palette at the end of the video, Mr. V included a top 10 GOOD logos from this time span, it was very kind of him.
On P4 of this "Good List," Mr. V placed the current Williams F1 Logo, as pictured above. At first I vaguely agreed with this, believing that he probably simply hadn't noticed one of the things that's been bothering me about that Logo since the first time I saw it up close.
The first sign of Trouble
So, what is this mystery issue, you might ask?
It's simple really. You don't necessarily notice it at a first glance, but something about that logo seems off. Taking a second longer, you may notice it yourself.
No, I mean it, take a minute and go look at the logo. It looks wonky as hell, doesn't it?
Well I can tell you the first thing that I personally noticed. The arms of the W aren't in line with the bottom half, see:
(Graphic by @girlrussell who was so kind to let me use it, as it is way prettier than the one I made)
It's a crooked W. There is no good explanation for this. The rest of the font is perfectly fine, geometrical shapes.
Anyway, the good person that I am I went to point this out to my partner ( @leftneb ) who proceeded to inform me that he, infact, was not aware about this and was, quote, "never going to unsee that."
Now, the good FRIEND that I am, I, of course, proceeded to rush into our broader F1 friendgroup to make them suffer for eternity.
What's the logical next step to take? Of course, fix the logo in Adobe Photoshop, you know, as a joke.
(Disclaimer at this point, I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Williams Management Team. I enjoy ALL their drivers this season. I do NOT enjoy James Vowels. Be warned.)(Also I am aware that he probably did not have an influence on the logo)
Trying to fix it. Oh god, I was so innocent back then
Trying to fix the logo in Photoshop is the worst mistake I could've made. THE worst path to take. I could've just giggled about making my friends suffer (which I succeeded in, by the way) and moved on. Instead I ruined a perfectly good Saturday evening, and for what? I don't know anymore.
Anyway, how was I gonna go about fixing the logo in the simplest way possible? Simplest way I could come up with: slap the thing in Photoshop and put two, mirrored boxes at each side to make the sides line up. Small issue, how do I make the thing actually even? Fix: line them up at the intersecting point with the bottom tips of the W.
Here's the result:
Hey, anyone care to explain to me why in THE LORDS NAME the arms are different sized? I mean, surely they weren't before. Surely, certainly, I must've messed up.
I double, I tripple checked. I made sure everything was lined up and made sense. But no.
It just couldn't be. Something was uneven in this logo, something even deeper. Something I could not have predicted when first taking a closer look. It was at this point I realized I had messed up. What rabbit hole had I stumbled across? Certainly, it couldn't get much worse.
And that's when I noticed.
(pictured above; my genuine reaction)
There's MORE? (oh god, the top isn't lined up)
I couldn't believe my eyes. This is the PINNACLE of the sport, and THIS was the logo of one of the competing teams? I mean, yeah, we have a Visa Cash App RB or a Kick Sauber or even a MoneyGram Haas which are all terrible logos, but at least they're CLEAN. (this has not been checked. If anyone wishes to ruin a nice Saturday evening, feel free to check them and tell me how wrong I was in the previous statement!)
But you can see that there is no end in sight for this post. I'm sure you're as scared as I was at this point. By now we were sitting in VC, discussing the horribleness of this logo. I had long informed my irl's about this, who take said design classes with me. And it was one of them who pointed out the next thing that had been bothering me, but I had not been able to put a finger on up to this point.
thE DISTANCE, HOW DID THEY FUCK IT?
I'm afraid I have to confirm your fears.
Yes, those lines are the same length. According to Photoshop, they're on the same level as well, so no flunking with angles.
The gaps of the arms to the main W are not the same. They're differently sized gaps.
It was clear to us, this logo is inherintely flawed. They're subtle issues, but once you pay attention you start to notice things. It all looks slightly wonky and off centre. And eventually, you get paranoid, and start comparing other angles and sizes. And you will keep finding things. This has ruined my life.
HOOOOOW
Honestly, I don't even know what to say. Yes, yes sadly those lines, too, are the same length. Just copied over from one side to the other and layed over on the same height. I admit, they're not layed over perfectly. I was honestly holding back tears at this point. But the point still stands, you can clearly see a difference in width.
Honestly, the only way I can explain it is that at some point there was a mess up of distance or proportions and whoever was designing the logo couldn't pin it down and tried to restore the visual balance by making manual adjustments. And in all honesty? They kinda did a good job, if that's what's happened. I mean, you notice the crookedness of the arms, and then maybe the difference in height, but the rest you probably will not notice if you don't spend too much time staring at it. (like some of us) And even those issues clearly aren't noticeable to the vast majority, considering I had to go point it out to a group chat for my friends at least to notice.
what the fuck is THAT?
Now, the thing about doing this investigative work of prooving a team you dislike is worse in more aspects than you previously thought, is that you do a lot of zooming in. And zooming in means you might notice bits that yours eyes simply overlooked before, because they were too small.
Here you can witness the top of the middle point, that, for whatever reason, really wants to touch the top border of the Logo. I'm relatively certain that's the highest few pixel in the entire graphic, considering earlier chapter "There's MORE?" I have no idea why it looks like that or why they thought it was necessary for it to not end in a clean point.
I just actually have no idea how to even describe what is going on on the top of the left arm. That left hand side, again, touches the side and is therefore the most-left-pixel in the graphic. I, once again, have no idea the purpose of this. However the RIGHT hand side also makes no sense, as it is the most prominent corner in the whole logo. There's pointed corners, and rounded OF corners, but nothing that is trying to form it's own colony in a distant land that hopefully isn't this god awful logo. I hope that blob gets away. I really do. You go king.
i'm loosing my mind
Anyway, the only reason I could come UP with those weird "reachy-outy-bits" was to establish the dimensions of the logo? But if that was the case, I don't understand why they managed to keep all the other potentially border touching corners clean?
Like, look. Those are clean, sharp corners with some clearance off the borders. I have no clue why they managed it here but not with the others.
guys. please.
Backtrackig a little bit, going back to the positioning of the arms.
Do I need to mention that those lines are both the same length and the same (mirrored) angle? I really hope I don't, because I don't think I could be making this shit up. Like, once you roughly know what you need to look for it just kinda becomes easy to find.
As said before, I genuinely do think that most of these issues happened in a chain-reaction. For example, the distances between the main part and the W wouldn't be as noticeable (and they do get noticeable once you start looking at it) if the angle wasn't fucked. And guess what, there's more fucked angles here! Which ALSO influence this specific area of the logo!
this is just embarrasing for you.
something something same line copied over and mirrored etc etc
It's not as visible but the angles defintely don't line up here as well. As mentioned before, these issues for the most part all influence each other. It doesn't really excuse the issues, in my opinion as a designer, because a big company like this shouldn't have these sort of issues in their logo.
So let's review;
to sum it up,
i cannot even BEGIN to explain to you how big of a fucking JOKE this FUCKING logo is. because, i thought to myself, to round the post out, hey, why not show ALL the issues i pointed out in one picture? that would round it out quite nicely, wouldn't it?
Yeah well, this logo sent STRAIGHT FROM HELL just could NOT let me rest. I had only done the lines visualizing the crooked arms in PAINT up until this point, i.e. I had only pulled both up individually. To make a nice "rounding out" picture I still had to add them into PHOTOSHOP. so i did. i pulled up the line. i mirrored the line.
THE ANGLE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT
none. and i mean NONE of my friends had noticed this before. i need you to understand that we looked at this thing with FIVE pair of eyes, and NONE of us noticed that until i thought to myself "Oh I still need to add these specific lines to have ALL the issues I pointed out in my SILLY TUMBLR POST in ONE image" and i get THAT FUCKING SURPRISE
I was PLANNING to round the post out with a statement on how obviously this isn't a serious post. Here, I even had it all written out already because I accidentally started writing it in the last paragraph:
Of course, this is nitpicking, and it's not that serious. I'm aware of that. AS MENTIONED most of these would not be noticeable if we hadn't gone specifically looking for them.
yeah, well, fuck that. i just spent two hours seething about this logo. i'm ending the post on this instead.
#i am ENRAGED#i managed to actually calm down about it#yk. just typing away#and then i just try to ROUND OUT THE POST#for fucks sake#anyway i know i'm posting this at an hourrendous hour#if you read all the way. reblog? maybe#pretty please#williams f1#williams formula 1#williams racing#formula 1#f1#also apologies for any spelling mistakes i do NOT have the nerve to go back and proofread this
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how would bnd legal line react to them making you squirt for the first time?
(love your acc btw!😙)
hiii <33 ofc !! (I luv yours too💖💖)
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pairing: bnd legal line (everyone but woonhak)
warnings: smut +18, squirting, unprotected sex (do not try at home !!) and I think that's about it.
summary: how would bnd legal line (everyone but woonhak) react to them making you squirt for the first time.
note: please send something about woonhak :') i want to write something about him so bad but i am ✨blank✨, what do y'all think about high school crush with ot6?
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sungho; he is such a giver I'm afraid, his top priority would be make you enjoy the whole thing, that doesn't mean that he won't take care of himself, though. so when you guys are having some intimacy for the first time in a while, you are very overwhelmed, he could tell by the way you were moaning his name into his ear and pressing your hands in his wide naked back. you were so sensitive that your pussy kept clenching around his dick, making him leave the crook of your neck to look into your eyes without stopping his pace "you good, baby? feeling good?" he would try to reassure himself and when you nodded and let out a cry he got his answer. "please, sungho, I'm going to-" your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he just kept going while attentively listening to you. "I'm coming, I'm coming, sungho, pull out" but he knew that was not true, not with the way your arms grabbed around his neck and your hips started to thrust up. but when you actually came your eyes flew open and sungho's did too, his movements coming to a stop while he looked at your eyes and the place where you two were linked. "I'm so sorry-", "you squirted?" you got nervous because you thought he might get angry for the mess, he was such a clean person so you stuttered before he continued "did you feel that good, y/n? you look so pretty right now" his smile made your muscles relax and you just laughed a bit, he helped you get clean because he just noticed that he also came after that event so you both just went to bed afterwards.
riwoo; i honestly think he would be soooo proud of himself, he is so sweet but i can see him being very into passionate sex, touching your body with precise hands to reach every single nerve that drives you crazy. he would not be a very vocal one when it comes to talking but I can definitely seeing him smiling at you with so much appreciation that it just melts you, giving in to his touches and opening your legs more so that your pelvis can touch in more depth. he's so into you (quite literally) that he doesn't even feels when you squirt all over him, he can only hear your moans and cries while your pussy clenched around him and made him cum too. "baby, I'm so sorry" you muttered when you saw him looking down with panicked eyes, riwoo's eyes pawned to yours and he said "I'm so sorry, I came inside, babe, I-" but he couldn't even finish the sentence when he added "you came so hard?" he was slightly surprised but again, his chest inflated in a way his shame went away after you reassured him that it was fine that he came inside. he kissed you so softly and whispered against your lips just how much he loved you and how intrigued he was with this new discovery.
jaehyun; you guys would be touching each other in his bed, kissing since half an hour ago and both of your bottoms already left behind, your left hand was jerking him off, his middle and anular finger pushed deep inside your soaked cunt while his tongue played yours in a way only him could. you had your eyes shut closed and your legs started to shake before you tried to close them too, the action alerted jaehyun who cut the kiss to look at your blushed face "did I hurt you?" he softly asked before trying to pull his fingers out of you but your hand stopped him while you shake your head in denial "it feels so good but I'm scared I might... you know... make a mess" jaehyun did not understood what you meant by that right away, only picking up on it a few seconds later when you lowered your head. "oh... oh! if you say it because of me, I don't mind! in fact, that'd be great" he encouraged you "but your sheets" a shush made you silent and his lips were on yours again for a short fraction of time before his fingers flicked up inside of your pussy "you can soak my sheets, baby, please cum for me" and the way his fingers moved in your insides was crazy, the tips of his digits constantly hitting that bulge of nerves when he curled them, his lips making you breathless and your own hand being thrusted into when you couldn't concentrate on moving it anymore. it was so hot, so exciting, your tights got tense and you tried to close your legs again but it was useless, he made you come with the last two thrusts and the way his hand and leg got wet with your squirt made you feel ashamed, just so he could kiss you again with that dumb smile in his lips "you think we could do this again sometime?" you just punched him playfully in his shoulder before he helped you up and led you to the bathroom, giving you some towels so you could shower before cuddling all night in his couch.
taesan; shower sex with taesan was not a weird thing, in fact, you guys did it pretty often since you both came tired from work but still wanted to share some intimacy so you showered together and one thing took to the other. like now, one of your legs being held up by your boyfriend, your arms holding on his shoulders and you two kissing like two addicts, so desperately that it was almost obscene, loud kissing noises coming out of your mouths when your tongues met each other. "can i go in, love?" you would just nod and resume the kiss, your pussy pulsating when you felt taesan's dick slide through your folds and then press in your wet entrance. "please, baby, go in" he loved when you were so sensitive for him, so willing, so ready, it turned him on like a flame, so he just pushed inside, throwing his head back with a low groan, his wet hair flicked back when he came back to face your contorned face, a grin on his lips that made you wanna cry. "hold on tight, pretty, i can't take it slow right now" and you certainly did not needed him be slow, so when he started thrusting into you, you just let him, your boobs wiggling with every thrust he gave you, feeling him so deep made you dizzy. "tae... slow down a bit" but he didn't want to, and neither did you. "just a little bit more, y/n, please" and how could you say no when you were feeling so good it made you drool all over your chin, only to be kissed aggressively by your pretty boyfie before you could feel him lowering his body so he could grab your other leg and pick you up, he pushed your legs up and practically pressed you against the shower wall. that friction between his pelvis and yours was all you needed before squirting all over him, his dick falling off your cunt only for him to lick his lips at the sight and push back in, making you gush and moan loudly about how overstimulated you felt. "you're so good for me, love, I'm almost done, just a little more" but when he finally came with two harsh thrusts, you squirted again, making him laugh a little before letting you go back in your feet. "good thing that we decided to do this here, you made such a mess" he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and kissed you softly, he was not surprised but he was definitely going to induce you more in order to see this show again.
leehan; it was a great idea for you guys to live in an apartment complex with pool, especially when your house was the penthouse and had a personal pool and jacuzzi in the rooftop. it was great for spending time or even to invite your friends over, but leehan had something else in mind for today, inviting you to swim with him at 12am and excusing himself by saying that there was too much sun in the afternoon. you didn't mind, it was just a few steps until the rooftop and you liked to swim AND spend time with your boyfriend so it was a win win. as soon as you guys got there he jumped in the pool, making you giggle while you turned around it to sit in the edge before jumping in but his hands stopped you when they held your tights from inside the pool "you look so pretty with that bikini" he managed to whisper with his low voice, his fingers grabbing around the waistband of your panties and pulling a little bit before you stopped his hand with yours "what are you doing?" you looked around a little panicked "you know this is a public area, right?" a shrug was your answer before he came closer to you, his chin resting in your tights before he spoke up "let me eat you out, y/n" you could never get used to how direct his words were, a blush running through your cheeks as you tried to talk him out of it but when leehan had something fixed in his mind, it was useless. so that's how you ended up with your legs spread open in the edge of the pool while he eagerly ate you out, his tongue wetting your whole cunt, flicking your clit for a bit before slowly and deeply thrusting into your gapping hole with his tongue. he kept placing open mouth kisses in your pussy and he now got his right thumb to play with your clit, his other hand keeping your legs open. it was all so sexy, especially when you grabbed his wet long hair to press him more into your pussy and practically grind on his face, and he just let you, he loved every single thing that was happening. but when he got two fingers in you without notice, you opened your eyes wide, receiving a kiss in your lips when he jumped out the pool to lay you down in the floor instead, kissing your lips with hunger and madly curling his fingers to hit your spot, needless to say that you came undone a few seconds after the switch, squirting all over his hand only for him to leave your lips and kiss your pussy instead, tasting your squirt with some satisfied moans against your cunt that sent shivers through your spine due to the vibrations. "stop doing that" you told him, you were just so ashamed for everything right now. "you think you can do it again? I want you to cum in my mouth now" yes, your boyfriend was crazy and he was not going to rest until you squirted all over his pretty face.
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this progressively got longer but I ain't even regretting, hope y'all enjoyed~ 🫶
#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor smut#boynextdoor x reader#leehan smut#leehan x reader#jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader#riwoo smut#riwoo x reader#taesan smut#taesan x reader#sungho smut#sungho x reader
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unfortunately i’m in the mood for some toxicity🙂↕️ imagine you’re in a fwb/nsa/situationship with the cod men and they see you with a hickey they know for a fact they didn’t give you?
thank you so much I worship your mind🙂↕️
you want some angst? I’ll give you some angst [evil finger tapping]
becoming friends with benefits with ChildhoodBestFriend!Simon Riley. you’ve both always been there for each other - Simon finding an escape in you. when his house was too loud? he’d find a way out, enjoy the silence of sitting beside you. when his father was too much, had a few too many drinks? he’d leave to find shelter with you. high school brought you closer together, Simon looming behind you, walking you to your classes before waving you off, crossing half the building to his classroom
CBF!Simon Riley who spent every waking minute he could with you before joining the military. honestly, he was like a lost puppy, tail between his legs while following you around. he really considered saying ‘fuck it’, thought long and hard about staying so he wouldn’t leave you behind, but ultimately going for his own good. he always visits you on leave though, ever since his first one, you’ve been his first stop, his main priority. even now, well into adulthood, he keeps going to see you, return to you. all it took was one New Year’s celebration - the two of you sat on a couch - to start it off. a sweet, slow kiss when the ball dropped at midnight, hands grazing each other. his heart laid out in his palms, hands cupping your face, honeyed kisses becoming consuming
FWB!Simon Riley who considers this a stepping stone to actually having you. you’ve been the one consistent thing in his life, cold, dead eyes becoming warm and relaxed at the thought of you. as much as it’s physical intimacy for Simon, it’s also a fantasy - what he could really have. he could have a warm bed— a warm home with you. sleepy mornings, delighted laughter, toothy smiles. he could have shared t-shirts and stolen hoodies, dog tags miraculously found around your neck. he could have a relationship with you, a real, til death do you part relationship. rings on your fingers, a shared last name, a spouse, someone to call his, and someone to call yours
Simon, who could have that, yearns for the day he can get over himself and confess to you, seeing a hickey on you. it peaks out of your shirt collar, holds his gaze with a muddled combination of reds and purples. it makes his throat tighten, stomach stir with something ugly— his hickeys always look so pretty on you, but this? to Simon it’s marred you skin, a blemish that shouldn’t be there. you’re not his, but his heart shatters knowing someone else touched you, or that— god, don’t think about it. maybe it was his, maybe Simon just doesn’t remember it (false hope, but repeating it might make it sound true). he can’t bring himself to ask, so he just stares at it. your voice, the one he wants to hear say ‘I love you’, is all but ringing in his ears
CW: Fem!Reader, more angst, oral and fingering (fem!receiving), domestic cravings from Simon<3, a little more angst
FWB!Simon Riley who can’t pay attention to anything besides that mark, mind a mess. are there more where he can’t see them? did someone get to see you laid out and pretty? how did they touch you? where did they touch you? was it someone that could replace him— “Simon? Are you okay?”, your concerned voice snapping him out of his thoughts, eyes glazed over with something you don’t recognize, “Do you need to lie down?”. there’s a lethargic ache in his heart, a devastating mourning for someone he still has. is he going to lose you? would you leave him behind for someone he doesn’t know? a stranger who could hurt you?
“Need you, sweet’art.”, he can’t help the crack in his voice, can’t help but lower his eyes to your hand - a nude finger that should be adorned by a ring. it happens in slow motion, his mind moving through murky water. he knows you’re speaking, feels your hands on his, but the heartache is so much more prominent. he doesn’t know what he’s saying, mumbled words leaving his lips that have you smiling softly. legs weighed down by sludge and steel-toed boots. there’s only clear waters when you kiss him, soft lips meeting his. a slow blink before he’s shrugging off his clothes. he won’t be abandoned. death can’t keep him from you, some stupid bloke that left a hickey on you doesn’t stand a chance. rough, calloused hands gently pawing at you, squeezing the fat of your hips as he dips forward, chapped lips leaving soft kisses on your face
he won’t be forgotten, he knows he can be better. gently guiding you to lie down, a boyish smile on his lips when you laugh softly. that’s the laugh he wants to marry, “Good girl, bein’ all pretty f’me.”. your clothes are carefully worked off, he’s too obsessed with how excited you get over a good outfit, doesn’t have the heart to tear them off you. he’ll buy you whatever you want for the wedding, mouth trailing kisses down your thighs. featherlight kisses worked down to your ankles, a soft puff of cool air blown on the soles of your feet to hear you complain and see you squirm. a content rumble in his chest as he leans down, he has something to prove - even if you’re oblivious to his motives. he’ll always treat you right, better than anyone else could, he knows it. eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you clit, a multitude of little open mouthed kisses, softly sucking before pressing another one. Simon is better, he’ll show you
all but making of with your cunt, sloppy, wet kisses littered against you. crooked nose bumping your clit as he eats you out, warm tongue lapping at you, you need Simon as much as he needs you, he knows it. chin and nose slick, satisfied groans leave him when you tug at his hair, thighs jerking slightly as you cry out. of course he’ll give you more, slowly working you open with two thick fingers. you always feel so good around him, warm and wet. it’s not long before you’re sobbing out his name, small hiccups between gasps as you orgasm. “Did good, sweet girl— you’ve got another one f’me, yeah?”, gravelly voice low and steady as he shifts, gaze smitten as he speaks softly to you. he knows you won’t get rid of him, his pretty soon-to-be missus taking his cock so well. hips rolling steadily into yours, deep thrusts that make you see stars. head dipping down, he’ll show you he’s better, raspy moans leave him as he sucks at your neck, carefully litters bite marks against your skin. dropping down to bite and suck his own marks over the offending one, leaves it unrecognizable, covered by his own teeth marks
FWB!Simon Riley who’s convinced you’re his afterwards, makes it his new priority to treat you like his wife before he leaves. he’s suddenly over every day, sleeping over almost every night. you can’t shake him, your big, brutish best friend suddenly glued to your hip, hands caressing you like porcelain, lips pressing gentle kisses your skin. he knows he’s won you over, it’s the only outcome that makes sense
FWB!Simon Riley returning to base, begrudgingly leaving you behind. he never asked who left that hickey, how it happened. in the grand scheme of things, he figures it doesn’t matter. Simon can’t help but fantasize over coming home to you, a high he doesn’t want to come down from. a worldview that shatters when Price mentions the bird he’s met - a pretty little thing that sounds all too familiar
#ahaha#[Debby Ryans you]#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod#cod thoughts#cod smut#call of duty#price#john price#captain price#price cod#price call of duty#price headcanons#hit post
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do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much
yes! love u ty
—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k
James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day.
That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second.
Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that.
You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top.
Hi James,
please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.
Worst,
Your unhappy adjacent desk.
You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone.
An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.
Hi bestie,
I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy.
Best,
James Potter :)
He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work?
You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up.
I could report you to HR for that last one, you send.
He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me.
You’ll be deaf by thirty.
Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music?
Jealous of everyone in the annex.
Want a cup of coffee?
You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it.
He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness.
“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office.
You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.
Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip.
“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand.
You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways.
Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?”
“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.”
James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?”
You still. She?
“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.”
You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen.
“Try not to think about it,” Remus says.
“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees.
Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick.
“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.”
“It’s too much work.”
“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.”
You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.”
James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks.
“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.”
“But you’d do it?”
“How long will you be off for?”
James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly.
“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?”
“Of course,” Remus says quickly.
James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?”
“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?”
James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.”
You can’t look at him very long.
The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible.
“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.
You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask.
“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”
“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.”
“I know. James knows that too.”
You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that.
Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you.
You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask.
He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”
James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?”
“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”
“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.”
“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.”
You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.”
“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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Collide | l.hs 이희승 | pt. 1
best friend!heesung x best friend!reader
READ PT2 HERE
warnings: smut (mdni), pwp (plot's there if you look hard enough), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation (sort of?), nipple play, heesung is cocky but only for a bit, no use of "y/n". It got sort of fluffy at the end?
synopsis: you've been having hookups for a while, but none of them have been memorable, much less good, so heesung decided you change that. Although his intentions might not be 100% pure.
wc: 5k.
a/n: this is by far not my first smut (it's literally all I write lol) but I've never posted for the enhypen fandom although I've been delusional about heesung and jake for a good while now. I have decided to break my silence. pls let me know if there are any mistakes and for sure let me know if you liked it! I actually quite enjoyed writing this as I began working on part two as soon as I finished. Also English is not my first language, I'm certain I revised this enough to avoid any grammar mistakes but thought I'd give y'all the heads up.
You arrived at Heesung's apartment late that night, just like you had warned him that you would. Given that your last date's place was near Heesung's, he had offered you to come over after your night out so that you didn't have to take a cab home. He said he'd be up playing anyway since it was a Friday night.
When you knocked, he had stood by his word. It took a few knocks and missed calls but eventually, the door opened, showing Heesung in a plain white tshirt and grey sweatpants. He welcomed you with a gentle smile, quiet as the noise rang through his headset. You nodded at him in acknowledgement and he took a step to the side to let you in.
As usual, you left your things on the couch. You signaled towards his bathroom and he nodded again, then left you alone to finish his game. You took a towel from his closet and one of his longer shirts and headed to the shower, head hanging low, letting the water run down your body when you stepped in, standing still under it, eyes closed.
Your date had been a mess.
The guy was nice; he held up to the bare minimum requirements of kindness and politeness, he payed for the bill even when you insisted for him to at least let you split it. Then he held your arm and guided you to his car like a true gentleman, where he took you to his house, layed you on his bed, and gave you the most boring, cunt-drying head and sex of your life. It felt criminal, really, that a man so handsome and well put together was such a boring and dull fuck. But there he had been, dirty blond hair parted to the side, stuck to his forehead as he sweat and heaved like a fucking pig white fucking into you, paying no mind to what you were feeling, only chasing his high.
Heesung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when you stepped inside. Nor could he stop thinking about the marks that he hoped to god would be gone by morning, or your messy hair and out of place clothes, and the fact that you were willing to pull through with the plan of going to his apartment instead of staying with the guy. He picked you up, fucked you poorly (most likely), and couldn't even drive you somewhere else?
Ever since you became confident enough to put yourself out there, you've had quire the few hookups, which was unsurprising to Heesung. You were pretty, charming, and kind, and he saw those things every day. However, heesung wasn't stupid. He knew that at the end of the day, there was a good reason as to why men overall didn't have a good reputation during sex. And Heesung was someone who would love to show you a good time, but he didn't want to lose you over it.
He dreamed of it. Fantasized about it so many times— about all the ways in which he would fuck you, so good that no one else could even compare. To have you come back to him each time you even so much as think about trying to sleep with some other guy that isn't him. He'd give you the slow, teasing version of it first, taking his sweet time with each and every inch of skin until you were shaking just from the mere anticipation of feeling his cock push in, dragging out the pleasure in slow waves, praising you for enduring such intense feelings. Make you feel so good you'd cry.
If you wanted, Heesung could be rough, too. Bend you over every single piece of furniture of his apartment and yours. In his car as well, he would be lying if he said he never imagined putting you on your hands and knees on the backseat of his car whenever he picked you up from a party; have claw at the leather and leave your mark on it. Park somewhere dark and let you ride him on the driver's seat.
To be quite frank, it drove him crazy; to know that you were in his bathroom— naked in his house, and he couldn't just walk in and press you against the wall, ready to hold your weight when your knees begin to shake and buckle.
Heesung shook his thoughts away, going back to his game and trying to act normal. He unmuted himself to yell at Jake and Yeonjun, who were performing even worse than him. As they went quiet again, he heard the water stop and the bathroom door open. Your reflection appeared on his second monitor, your hair in somewhat of a low ponytail over your shoulder with a few strands on the front. Some parts of your body were clearly still damp, and his shirt stuck where there were still drops of water gathering on your skin. Heesung licked his lips, desperate to end the game and go to you, who layed comfortably on his bed, scrolling through your phone with a cold expression.
You sighed while you stared holes into Heesung's stiff back and shoulders. You showed up to his apartment knowing that he was going to be gaming with his friends, but a part of you still hoped that he would've dropped everything for like he had done sometimes, especially since today had been particularly frustrating. Still, you waited for him, just rather impatiently.
He didn't bother to say goodbye to his boys, he only turned off his computer and took his headphones off, rubbing at his red and sore ears. He turned on his chair and smiled.
“I'm done.”
“Did you win?” you said, raising an eyebrow.
Heesung shook his head. “I wasn't focusing.” He shrugged. “How bad was it?"
“How'd you know it was bad?"
“You're here, aren't you?” He chuckled.
Your shoulders dropped in defeat, quietly admitting your best friend was right. Heesung's eyes softened, displaying pity as your hands came up to rub your face, leaving a red trail of pure frustration.
“He was so handsome and sweet,” You groaned into your palms. “But he barely even kissed me, or touched me.”
He gritted his teeth, eyes landing on the small, purplish spots on your neck. “You're all marked up though,” he said, trying not to let his jealousy seep into his words.
“I practically had to beg him to do anything,” you admitted, embarassed that those words even came out of your mouth.
Begged?, Heesung thought, you had to beg a random guy to do what he had been dying to do to you? He scratched at the back of his neck.
“I don't know where you keep finding these scumbags.” He stood up, walking towards the bed to sit next to you.
“Maybe they're all scumbags and I should give up, because I didn't even get to finish.”
Heesung pressed his lips together, making a thin line. He tried to think about what to say next, but words were out of his mouth before he could consider all outcomes.
“Do you still want to?”
“Want to what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.
“Come,” he responded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you still want to come?”
Heat crept up your cheeks, your body beggining to deter from his gaze. Neither of you had ever been shy about discussing sex, or each other's sex lives—though he was much more reserved about it than you were—, but something in the atmosphere made you nervous. Something in his tone as the words came out of his mouth, something about heesung saying those words to you.
You huffed. “Well, who doesn't, right?”
His pupils were blown out in an instant. “Then let me help you.”
“Help me what?” you rolled your eyes at him, exasperated. Although he wasn't being as cryptic as you perceived him, you were just in a bad mood.
Heesung just shrugged. “Come,” he repeated, leaning closer to you. “Let me make you come.”
The whole world stopped for you, or at least that's what it felt like. Your face contorted, a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind.
Yes, it was your best friend, who you barely recognized at the moment. But you would be lying if you said his words didn't have an effect on you, his offer making you shiver. Still, you had some level of skepticism because again, he was your best friend.
“Stop playing, I'm not in the mood.” Was all you managed to push out, not feeling like being teased.
Unable to back down now —or not wanting to—, heesung took a deep breath.
“Do I look like I'm playing?”
You turn to face him, and looked for a hint, or even such as a glimpse of him being the teasing asshole that he had always been, however, he never faltered. If anything, he seemed impatient for an answer.
“I think you deserve to know what a good night feels like,” He continued.
“You think you're good?” You scoffed mockingly, already feeling your body heating up at his promises. A good night? Yes, you were in desperate need of one of those. It was nothing Heesung wasn't already aware of.
“I know I am,” he smirked.
His confidence set off something inside of you. If it turned out that he was all talk, then, you'll be damned, because god, did he know how to talk. Not only using his words, but also his whole body, as he leaned foward to press his face closer to yours. Had he always been like this or were you just noticing?
For the time you had known Heesung, you never knew him for one to sleep and mess around. He was a flirt, sure, he loved to lean in during parties to make the women around him flustered. More often than not, he would brush past them with a hand on their waist and watched as they blushed, but despite his good looks and undeniable charisma, you've never heard about him constantly hooking up, nor doing it often like you did.
Regardless, wether it was seldom or not, Heesung fucked. It was a fact, even if it seemed like he was too busy gaming and working, he had managed to fit some fun time in his packed schedule of work hours and consoles. You couldn't deny you've heard about him, given that he had unknowingly slept with two of your coworkers. It wasn't something you told him, and until this very day, he was still unaware of the fact.
But you were very aware of what had been said about him, because you heard them discuss in great detail about how good the sex had been. They had talked about everything, from the size of his cock to how he knew how to eat out a woman—and how good he looked doing it—, how many times they came and what not. It had been weird to hear about how good your best friend was in bed, but you still grew curious, dying to know if the rumours were true, and if he was the well built roman sex god they made him out to be.
He was your best friend, yes (how many times had you said it already?). Still, you weren't blind nor stupid, you could see how gorgeous he was, how hot he looked, having been flustered by him one too many times. Certain feelings harvested in you that you had pushed to the side, thinking that you would bully them away by telling yourself than a friend who just so happened to be stupidly handsome. And you had managed quite well, that until today, with Heesung infront of you, willing to give you what you wanted.
Would the sex outweigh any possible bad outcomes that may come from hooking up with the person you trust the most? Only time would tell.
“Okay,” you whispered, feeling shy under his impatient gaze.
He reached out his hand, softly cupping your chin. His thumb caressed your jawline.
“I'll be gentle.”
Your brows furrowed. “I'm not a virgin, Heesung.”
“Do you need to be a virgin for that?” He laughed, dumbfounded by your words. “Just lay back and let me make you feel good.”
Promises, promises, promises. “Are you all talk or do I have to beg you too?”
Heesung smirked. “Don't give me ideas.”
Any hesitation any of you might have still had vanished the minute your lips pressed together. Heesung moved slowly, almost forcing you to follow his lead and you obliged, sighing into the kiss. You held his nape to pull him closer, it was the only thing he let you do. He allowed you to guide him on top of you, and you spread your legs so that he could settle himself between them to kiss you deeper.
His tongue pushed against yours without a warning and you whimpered. Just the kissing had your heart threatening to shoot a hole into your chest from the inside out. Heesung had inviting lips for sure, but god, did he know how to use them.
You were desperate to have him touch you but still whined and protested when his mouth began to make its way down, stopping by your neck first, biting just below your jawline. Your hands trembled, trying to find something to hold on to until you figured the best thing to sink your nails into were his shoulders.
Heesung loved it, to know his skin would welcome anything your body gave. So mesmerized by the way you reacted to his touches, so receptive and sensitive to him. He couldn't believe it yet, that he had you on his bed, kissing you breathless.
Your back arched into him when he sucked on the skin, making sure to leave more visibly, longer lasting marks over the ones you already had. He watched as your skin became stained with a darker purple, his cock throbbing at the sight; at the thought of seeing you on his clothes, your body littered in his marks.
He raised your shirt over your breasts. You reached for the hem of the shirt to pull it over your head to give him more space to do what he wanted more comfortably. He stopped you immediately, though.
“I wanna fuck you in my shirt,” he confessed, trying not to show his desperation.
His words almost were enough to make you moan, and you realised you weren't turned off by the idea of being owned in some way, especially if it was Heesung who did. Or perhaps you were just incredibly horny, and he had started to play with one of your nipples between his fingers, the other one going into his mouth.
With your hand gripping his head tightly, you pushed him towards your chest. He swirled his tongue around the bud in acknowledgement of your actions, which made you buck your hips up in an attempt to get some sort of friction. You could feel your panties sticking to your skin, was it normal to be this wet just from kissing?
It was probably how it should have been with your date, or with any of the other guys you had slept with. But only you had managed to get yourself to that state, alone in your room with your fingers, and now Heesung with his skilled mouth licking and swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, his hips pressed against your cunt to keep you from squirming or pressing your legs together. You took the opportunity to grind yourself against him, feeling the outline of his already hard cock on your shorts. The whine he let out was long and needy.
“Heesung,” you moaned, nudging at his shoulder to push him away. “More.”
Heesung's knees buckled at your pleads.
“Beg a little more, baby.” He instructed. He pressed a soft kiss between your breasts, where a drop of sweat had begun to roll down. “Say my name again.”
Heesung found himself hypnotized by the way you moaned out his name. The way you tried to shove him down to get him to go between your legs just made him want to tease you more.
“heesung please, please, fuck—,” you babbled. “God, stop teasing me.”
“No god here, just me,” Heesung smirked at you.
Thankfully, what you said had been enough. He made his way down slowly, ghosting his hands over your waist as he directed his kisses from your abdomen until his lips met the hem of your shorts. He pushed them to the side and stared at your white panties now turned transparent from the wetness. And he almost couldn't believe it was for him. A bunch of thoughts passed through his mind that he didn't dare to voice; how he had wanted this for so long, how he was hoping you would come to your senses and realize how much better he was than all the other guys you had gone out with. How he hoped this would absolutely ruin you, and make you feel like you will never find something out there that could compete. The thought of this possibly being a one time thing, and that you could run off to some other douchebag was nauseating.
He offered himself up expecting that, by the end of the night, he'll own you.
It wasn't something that he wanted to keep thinking about. All he wanted was to hear more of your pretty sounds. You gasped when he yanked down your shorts, leaving on your underwear just to mess with you and make you desperate for him. He glided his thumb over your cunt, occasionally putting pressure on your clit but never quite staying there. Your legs and hips twitched, your pathetic attempt to guide his finger. Loud moans and whines kept pouring from your lips as you tried to get him where you wanted.
“Have any of those assholes ever gone down on you?” he asked, sort of absent.
Had they? You weren't really sure. Sometimes they would kiss between your legs, a few licks here and there before they pushed their cock in, but never like what your friends have told you it was like. Jealousy burbled in your stomach whenever you heard them talk about it— the unimaginable pleasure, the look on the man's face he ate them out like his life depended on it. You have had a glimpse, a very bad one, but you had almost felt what it was like. However, at the end of the day, it was mostly you on your knees with your mouth stuffed.
Ultimately, you decided to tell him exactly that. “Yeah, but not really. It's usually me who does.”
Heesung clicked his tongue, completely displeased by your answer. It pissed him off, sort of, at least enough to pull your panties down and finally beginning to live up to his promise. He flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, to which your body immediately reacted, forcing a whimper out of you.
His hands forced your legs open as far as they would go, taking full control, leaving you defenseless under his relentless mouth and tongue. Same tongue he pushed inside you, thrusting it into your hole, feeling you squeeze him. The way your walls tightened around his tongue turned him impatient, dying to get that same feeling on his cock. But you were his priority right now, and he would have time to feel you soon enough.
The orgasm that you had been longing for since you accepted your date felt closer than ever, with heesung's nose hitting your clit, and his tongue moving inside you. He then reached up to suck on your clit that kept getting more and more swollen the more his lips would close around it, rolling his tongue over it. As he kept playing with it, he teased his finger on your entrance, gathering your slick on it and sliding it in with little to no effort, your body welcoming him instantly. He found himself stretching you further in no time, slowly pushing in a second finger and curling both of them.
“Feel good baby?” he mumbled. It was uncommon for him to ask those types of questions, since he would rather have girls show him. But from you, he wanted to hear it, he needed to hear it.
The question almost sounded stupid in your ears.
“So fucking good,” you breathed out. “So fucking close.”
All of the rumours were true, and Heesung absolutely looked hot pleasuring a woman, smiling to himself, looking drunk and fucked out just from it, his only goal to have you finish thanks to him. He was good, exactly like he said he was, making your eyes roll back, a thing you had only thought possible in porn, and just by using his mouth. And he still had yet to fuck you.
The pace of his fingers and tongue quickened, your moans got louder along with it. Edging you was something he considered, feeling you so close, having the power to just stop all at once and leave you hanging.
Your orgasm came crashing down on you before he could make a decision, and fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed; how your back arched and your feet lift off of the bed as the highest peak of pleasure you had ever felt invaded your body in waves, body convulsing onto his hand in time with the loud, borderline screams of his name. It had gotten to the point you had to kick at his shoulders for him to pull away, sensations quickly turning painful.
If that's how you were gonna feel on his cock, he was certain that he was not going to last long.
“Shit, Heesung, that was—”
"I'm not done with you, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “I barely just started.” He chuckled, begging to pull down his sweatpants, revealing the wet patch of precum on his underwear. “Look what you did to me.”
Your eyes never stopped following his hands as he hooked his fingers om his boxers to finally free his cock from being smothered by the fabric, standing proudly against his abdomen, heavy. Something in your stomach fluttered with a twisted exciment of what was about to happen, especially when he wrapped his hand around it to stroke it slowly, almost teasing himself.
And you let him, watching him try to relieve himself; his mouth open, panting, so focused on aliviating his arousal that he almost forgot you were there. That until both of your eyes met, the atmosphere in the room getting heavier by the minute
Heesung stopped moving his hand. “Come spit on it, baby,” he instructed. “Get it ready.”
A breath got stuck in your throat at his words. That hadn't been the nastiest thing you heard, you had been said and called way worse. But the way he look and sounded while he made his request, knelt in front of you, hair out of place and lips dark pink and glossy from eating you out made him look and sound so utterly dirty, so much so that your body reacted way before you did, already crawling to him before he could finish that sentence fully.
You looked straight into his eyes as you opened your moth, a long string of saliva falling from your tongue in slow motion until it met the head of his cock. He looked right back at you as he spread it across his length. Heesung muttered curse after curse as you laid back down, and was quick to settle himself between your legs once more.
His tip pressed against your entrance, and you felt the stretch almost immediately, hissing and putting your hand on stomach as a reflex. He held your wrist gently, used his grip to pull your hand up to his face, pressing a soft kiss on your palm. His eyes fluttered shut as your warm skin came into contact with his lips. And when you moved to cup his cheek, he leaned into the touch instantly. You began to tease his bottom lip, running your thumb over it, and as he sunk himself even further, he caught it between his teeth, gently grazing them against your semilong nails, until he finally closed his mouth around it. He hummed.
It took Heesung a while to bottom out inside you, and you moaned and whined all the way through it; from the pain of being stretched open and from the pleasure of being stretched open. He moaned as well, as his hips met your pelvis, with your walls fluttering around his cock. His thoughts were going at a thousand miles, all of them screaming at him to really, really fuck you into the mattress. But he stayed put for the sake of your enjoyment, he had promised you a good night and he was going to drag it out as much as he could for your and his enjoyment.
Still with your thumb between his lips, he began to slowly move his hips, barely pulling out before pushing back in to get you used to his girth. You gripped his bicep with your free hand, scratching down on his skin until the sting started to dissipate. You took notice of the way he held his breath as the speed began to increase, moaning and groaning when you squeezed him in.
It was dizzying, how you felt him everywhere. In your hand, with his moans vibrating on your palm; inside you as he dragged his cock, barely managing to pull out an inch before diving back in, pressing himself against you as much as he could so that he was fully settled inside your walls. Due to his cocky attitude, you didn't take him for the type of guy to be vocal. But there he was, whining louder and louder, almost uncontrollably, and that only turned you on more. The fact that you, too, were making him feel good and he was not afraid to show it.
You weren't usually this pliant and submissive, preferring to put up a little bit of a fight, managing to make guys submit to you instead as you took the lead. With Heesung, though, it was different, whether it was because was mesmerizing or because you had never felt such heightened pleasure, it was clear that he had control from the moment he got closer to you before he made his offer. And you could take control, probably, but you didn't want to. You wanted Heesung to do the work, to prove himself.
Which he was, taking on a pleasurable rhythm that had you moaning louder than him. One of his hands found the plush of your hips and gripped onto it for leverage to angle himself. The other one traveled from your chest all the way down to your clit, rubbing messy circles with his thumb, making you throw your head back into the pillows, along with a cry of his name.
The echo of his skin hitting against yours fueled him. Heesung didn't know where he should be looking at, if at your beautifully contorted face, with your eyes closed shut and your lips parted, or down, to where a white ring of your slick began to sorround the base of his cock each time he pulled out, noises growing increasingly wetter.
“You're driving me fucking insane,” he grunted.
There was no response from you, only whines of pleasure as you neared your second release. His thumb circled faster, not too hard, but enough to send all of your senses into overdrive, encouraging you to reach your climax, dying to know if you'd feel as good on his cock as you did on his fingers. And although he was dying to kiss you, he held back his urges just to see your face as you came, with your legs closing around his waist, your body slightly convulsing off the bed. It was nothing short of delightful.
You attempted to catch your breath, but heesung didn't give you time to process your intense orgasm as he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed your cheek into the mattress and accommodated your lower half as he pleased. You were barely able to hold your ass up in the air for him, your knees weak as he entered you again. Only then did you register that you had come twice already, but had yet to see or feel a single drop from him.
“You are fucking insane,” you groaned, teary eyed.
He chuckled, movements coming to a halt. “I made you come twice and you still complain? Tsk. Greedy.” He dug his nails into your hips, making you wince. “Sorry you're tired, but it's my turn now.”
With that, his thrusts resumed, opting for a quicker, rougher pace than before, clearly turning a bit more selfish and now after his own release. The new position allowed him to reach deeper, making you press yourself back onto him to meet him halfway, chasing the sensation despite the pang of pain from having orgasmed so recently.
Heesung leaned down to bite onto your shoulder, in the pace where his tshirt wouldn't cover, making sure to engrave his teeth into your skin, hoping the next man you tried to sleep with would be turned off by the markings. He let go when you complained, kissing and licking onto it instead, whispering more soft apologies, although both of you knew that he wasn't sorry at all.
After a while his thrusts became more erratic, losing any pacing he tried to maintain. The grip on your hips was bruising, but you thought you wouldn't have it any other way.
“Touch yourself for me,” he commanded in between his moans.
You reached down between your body and the matress, struggling to reach your clit as Heesung's thrusts moved and pressed you against the sheets. Your motions were slow and light despite the harsh snapping of heesung's hips, slowly building up the pressure in your lower stomach until any discomfort you felt was gone, your fingers now matching his speed, mindless of the way your cunt tightened around him almost painfully.
He didn't stop nor slow down, not even as he came. Loud moans spilled from his lips, attempting to drag out his release as much as he could. And you followed soon after, body giving out under heesung to lay flat onto the bed, breathing heavily. He spread your legs carefully to not miss the way his cum oozed out of you, dripping down onto your folds. You turned your head back as best as you could, and through the mess of hair on your face, you still caught the way he smiled to himself as he watched.
“This is video worthy,” Heesung murmured, dragging his fingers up your cunt to fuck his cum back into you. “You're gonna make me hard again.”
You squirmed away from him, kicking at his sides. “Stop it,” you whined, then whined again as he pulled his fingers out languidly, the sight so painfully naughty it almost made you ask him to fuck you again. However, you were too tired to even hold yourself up.
Heesung's whole demeanour changed, and he was back to being just him; playful and soft spoken. “Sorry,” he chuckled, the only time it sounded like he actually meant it. He hovered over you, moving your hair to place gentle kisses on the nape of your neck.
It made you sigh, muscles finally relaxing, and your hearbeat now back to normal. Or sort of normal.
For the sake of the moment, you tried not to think about anything; about the fact that you just had the most intense and amazing sex with your best friend, no other. And you had to admit that you were kind of sad about the fact that it was over, and that it was probably gonna be a one time thing to protect the friendship. So you allowed yourself to be held by him, pushing any and all thoughts to the back of your mind.
“You're beautiful, you know?” he whispered against your skin.
He was making it way too hard.
“Not so bad yourself,” you mumbled jokingly. Heesung was fucking beautiful, too. “M'gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that.”
“Sleep, then,” he smiled.
“Thank you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“The dick, and the kisses.”
Heesung couldn't help but laugh, a loud but oddly comforting sound as you began to drift off.
“Anytime.”
#eatyourfriendsfics#lee heeseung#lee heesung smut#lee heesung x reader#reader x idol#reader x lee heesung#heesung enhypen#heesung smut#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#heesung fanfiction#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen heesung#enha heesung
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##. BABY, THINGS I WANNA SAY TO YOU
♡ How you (accidentally) came to know his feelings for you
♡ Contents & warnings: secondhand embarrassment (major on hiiragi and umemiya's part), unestablished relationships but implied mutual feelings, humor (this was not written seriously), manga character spoilers, not proofread, reader is addressed as pretty (umemiya)
♡ Characters: sakura haruka, kaji ren, hiiragi touma, suou hayato, umemiya hajime (xgn! reader)
To be honest, Sakura Haruka is truly the king of not being subtle about his feelings. This boy will literally stare (he thinks it’s a stare, but he doesn’t know he’s furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes like he’s glaring at you) at you at every wake moment that you two are in each other’s presence but when you turn your head to acknowledge his presence, he flushes a deep shade of red and comically turns his head away to avert his gaze from yours.
And, of course, having someone bore holes into the side of your head isn’t a particularly nice feeling so one day you jokingly confront him by saying: “hey, Sakura-kun, why are you always staring at me? Are you in love with me or something?” and you swear you meant it as a joke, and you fully expected him to call you stupid and tell you to stop joking around. But!! When the only reaction you pulled out of him were flustered stammers and reddened ears, you knew you accidentally threw the dart right on the bullseye.
As if things weren’t awkward enough, he had to poorly defend himself (and confirm his infatuation further) by saying “and what of it?! What if it’s true that I like you, huh?!” congratulations on the first “oh.” moment of your life, you’ll have to pay for it by communicating with this boy. Good luck and don’t tease him too much because he might explode.
Ah, yes. Kaji Ren. The king of not confessing. He’s not someone who falls in love or falls out of love easily so he’s probably been pining over you since middle school, and everyone who went to the same middle school with him probably knows how dumb in love he is with you.
And that is why Ren’s good friend since middle school, Sako, broke into a sweat when he accidentally came across Ren, after accidentally meeting you. The thing is, Sako also considers you a good friend from middle school, so when he met you by accident while walking around to find the new trendy dessert, he didn’t deny your invitation to hang out. And that is because he didn’t take into account that this will happen, that his good friend would see him walking around with said good friend’s crush. It’s only when he meets eyes with Ren that he realizes how bad everything looks. You and Sako, hanging out. Just the two of you.
At the sight of Ren’s shock-widened eyes, Sako, feels his panic meter rising to 100 real quick. He’s not about to be dubbed as someone who steals his friends’ crush, not today.
“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I met them by accident while walking aroundー” he blurts out in a haze of alarm, briefly turning his head to you for confirmation. You give a nod, and he continues his panicked rambling, which is probably the worst single decision he’s ever going to make in his entire 15 years of living.
“ーand there’s no way I’ll go on a date with someone that you’ve liked for 3 years!”
Immediately after hearing Sako’s explanation, you and Ren chime a “what?” simultaneously. you in confusion, and Ren in disbelief because no way those years he spent pining over you was just outed like that. And then Sako makes some half baked excuse to leave you two alone to talk as if he wasn't the one who made this mess in the first place, like wtf bro clean it up. Good luck communicating with this one too, assuming he hasn’t run off in embarrassment, that is.
Hiiragi Touma the chad!! He actually has the balls to confess, I love this man. He planned it meticulously too, like what he’s gonna say, at what place, what his reply is gonna be depending on your answer, yada yada, you name it, he’s got it all prepared. And right now the timing is right, he’s got you in a secluded place so he can save both of you the embarrassment of having anyone hear an intimate moment, he’s even got his hand latched onto your wrist too. He gulps a bile in his throat so he doesn’t stutter when he tells you exactly what he’s been dying to tell you.
“Listen, I have something to tell you,” he sucks in a heavy breath, he feels like his lung is gonna run out of air soon from the nervousness. He’s prepared, he just needs to say it. say the three words.
“I like—” “oh, Hiiragi! You already confessed to them? Good for you.”
Hiiragi doesn’t think he’s ever felt his nervousness disappear so fast before, immediately being replaced by anger and pure exasperation. His brain stopped thinking about how your wrist fits nicely in his hand and has instead started repeating the phrase “fuck you, umemiya hajime”.
The glare he gives the Boufuurin leader is harder than any punch he’s thrown in his life and it effectively makes Umemiya disappear behind whatever wall he came from. Feeling awkward and bad for him, you initiate a conversation.
“Hiiragi-” “sorry,” he cuts you off, sinking down to the floor in a squat as absolute exhaustion takes over him, his free hand going up to cover his face. “Sorry. Just… give me a minute and I'll confess to you properly.”
Hiiragi is relieved though when he feels your wrist sliding up from his hand, moving to intertwine your fingers with his. Maybe everything will be okay, after all. Still, fuck umemiya hajime indeed. read the room, man.
Suou Hayato is the king of confessing. Or, he would be, if he didn’t treat it as a joke and asked you to date him everyday jokingly. Now he finds himself stuck in a complicated situation where you don’t ever take his confession(s) seriously and he’s quite in a pinch because he really likes you and wants to seriously date you. He can’t blame anyone but himself, though, because who the hell says “just kidding” after literally confessing that he likes you. Not only that, but he’s setting himself up by saying “let’s date” everyday in such a carefree way that you can’t take it seriously.
Truth to be told, Hayato keeps asking you out because he's still holding on to the hope that something miraculous might happen and you’ll take him seriously. So far, though, it isn’t looking any good. Woe is he. Sorry man, you set yourself up for this yearning.
His yearning gets so bad that one day when he finds you asleep on your desk after school with your head nestled between your arms on top of your desk, he sits on the chair in front of your desk. His hands found themselves mindlessly wandering to your hair, twirling a strand between his fingers and watching the sunset illuminating your hair. He observes your sleeping face for a while, before his hands reach out to give your cheek a gentle poke. He chuckles when you make a funny face and turn your sleeping face away from him. He doesn’t even know why he does what he does next, but he gets close to your head, stopping just beside whatever part of your ear is exposed. Then, he whispers, voice lacking the teasing lilt that it’s usually bathed in.
“You don’t know how much I actually want to date you.”
“Do you really mean that?” he realizes he kinda fucked up but it’s okay because at least you’re aware of his feelings now.
And then Hayato realizes how silly he’s acting so he grabs your shoulder to shake you awake. He gets surprised, though, when your hand suddenly grasps his, holding him in place before he could pull back (let's be real he doesn’t want to, though.).
Umemiya Hajime does have the courage to confess, though. But he’s also kind of afraid that you might not see him in the same way and it’s gonna change his friendship with you so he’d rather wait until he’s certain his feelings aren’t one sided.
But all that logical reasoning gets thrown out of the window when he catches sight of you playing with the orphanage kids. He’s a family man through and through so of course that kinda stops the gears in his head from turning. In any case, though, he’s happy to see you getting along with his younger siblings, though, ecstatic even. Like, it’s to the point that he doesn’t realize he’s staring at you with such a lovesick smile that he might as well make the “hearts in eyes” phrase a real phenomenon.
“I can’t wait to confess to you.” the words trickle from his mouth without consent from his, y’know, logical reasoning. Panic takes over momentarily before he realizes you didn’t hear what he just said because your ears are probably full of the children’s laughter.
You didn't hear. But some of his younger siblings did.
“Onii-chan, is that person the one you like?” as if it wasn’t bad enough that you heard the question, the little girl had to also point straight into your direction. Well, it wouldn’t have mattered if they did or not anyway because the only two teenagers in the room are you and hajime.
“Oh so they’re the one you talk about with heart eyes!” One pipes up. “right! The person whose eyes would sparkle when the sun hits them.” Another one follows. “and the person whose hair looks especially beautiful when it’s illuminated by the setting sun!” You get the gist.
Hajime would think about how cute his younger siblings look with their eyes sparkling with excitement if it weren’t for the fact that he can’t think of anything else because his mind is filled with the sound of his racing heart.
The fact that he talks about you to his younger siblings is exposed in bright daylight, and you’re looking at him with a surprised expression etched on your pretty face.
The discovery his younger siblings made did nothing but successfully make them gush over you even more. Well, who could blame them, their older brother’s crush is right in front of them. Deepest condolences, though, because children are always unnecessarily nosy and stubborn so they’re gonna end up matchmaking you and Hajime. You bet they’re not gonna let you go until you both confess to one another, right in front of them. What a nightmare.
#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader#sakura haruka x reader#suou hayato x reader#umemiya hajime x reader#hiiragi touma x reader#wind breaker x reader#kaji ren x reader
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Chemical Override (bonus chapter 2) - August!
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n: this sweet one is set just before they broke it off (or rather, before the reader stomped all over his heart) in part five!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
August! (... slipped away into a moment in time)
It's a fine morning, albeit lazy, you and Ewan having done nothing but lay in bed and talk and cuddle.
Granted, you did a lot more than talk over the course of the night. And this continued in the morning, with Ewan gently coaxing you out of sleep in need.
He's been insatiable, not that you can blame him. You two are finally together, after months of dancing around each other, your friends in eager anticipation to see how the 'will-they, won't they' dynamic will culminate.
They'll be pleased to know that it all led up to the best date you've had so far, followed by a night of bodies burning for the other, marking their territory in the throes of pent-up desire.
Ewan was sure he would remain the gentleman, merely driving you back to your hotel and calling it a night.
But you had invited him upstairs for a nightcap. Maybe some tea, as the Brits do. Needless to say, the tea was quickly forgotten, along with any reservations he might have about simply having you.
The haze of it hasn't subsided. Clad in nothing but undergarments, your limbs are tangled with his under the sheets as you watch the newly released New York foods video he did with Tom a while back.
"Baby?" you say, running your fingers through his hair as he has his head propped on your thighs. The screen plays on, showing the lads thoroughly enjoying some New York City hotdogs.
"Hmm?" he responds, his voice hinting at how soothed he feels from your touch.
"You're such a baby."
"What?" He twists his neck to shoot you a look of betrayal. Adorable.
"I bet those chips weren't even that spicy," you say, rolling your eyes. "I would have devoured those jalapeño chips."
"They were spicy!" He leans against his forearm, which he quickly positioned on your thigh without thinking, causing your muscle to spasm from the sudden weight.
"Ahhh, Ewan!" you wriggle your legs. "Get off, get off..."
"Shit!" He bolts upright, immediately kneading the flesh with his palm. "Sorry, baby. Here, where does it hurt?"
You sigh audibly. "Oh, you." You narrow your eyes at him playfully, trying to look all tough, but apparently he takes it as a cue to press his lips to yours.
It's warm, a bit sloppy, your breaths stale from wine drank over the course of the night. And you don't mind at all.
He croons in your ear, "How do I make it up to you?"
"It's fine, I was only kind of messing - "
"Come now, darling, anything."
He gazes at you, awaiting an answer. In the background, you hear his voice saying, The Fuegos... I didn't like them, as the video comes to a close.
I saw your eyeballs sort of pop out your head a little bit, Tom says in response.
This is going to be fun, you think, smiling evilly to yourself.
Rising to your knees on the bed, you loudly declare, "Today, my love, you will conquer your fears and eat my favourite spicy food."
"Nooo!" He shakes his head right away, already plotting how to get out of this predicament. "Baby, please make me do anything else. I can't handle my spice!"
"My mind is made up."
"What if I do that thing that made you scream last night? When I buried my tongue insi - '
"Ewan!" Your face reddens, but you carry on. His face will soon have the same reaction, but for different, more savoury reasons. "I mean, I would like that but - "
"Alright, let's go baby, spread your knees - " he nods, desperate to placate you and your challenge, but also eager to get down to business.
You shuffle away when he tries to pry your legs open. " - I said I made up my mind! We're eating spicy food. We gotta eat anyway, I'm starving."
He groans, collapsing back on the bed. He runs his hand tiredly over his face, mulling it over. As if he actually has a choice. He wants to do this for you, seeing as how excited you're getting.
"Get up, ol' sport," you crawl on top of him, perching above his stomach. "We're gonna go get the goods."
"Hmm," he sighs contentedly, one look at you more than enough to quell his worries. For now.
"Okay, darling," he relents, then his eyes flash in mischief. "But before we get out of bed... how about I do that thing anyway?"
There is not a single chance in the seven hells that you could ever say no to that.
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An interesting spread is laid out on the round dining table in your hotel suite.
Your stomach growls in anticipation, while Ewan is stiff as a board as he sits beside you.
"I'm hungry, aren't you?" you nudge him, but he only moans, throwing his head back in his chair.
"What if I'd already eaten? I can skip this?" he tries.
"And what the hell did you eat?"
He smirks, and even though his answer won't save him from what follows, it renders him gleeful all the same. "You," is his reply.
That prompts an eye roll, but you shake your head at him fondly. "What should we start with, baby?"
"Water."
"Come on."
"How about the strawberry milk?"
"Okay, then I'll pick." You clasp your hands, surveying the options. "Let's start with something easy." You settle for the bowl of Flamin Hot Cheetos and place it right in front of him.
You help yourself to a few pieces, before noticing that he hasn't moved a muscle, so you take one and bring it to his lips. "Open up, handsome."
"Mmmm," he tilts his head away on instinct, but he gives in after a second. He makes a face as the snack crunches in his mouth. "Not... bad, I suppose.... Urghhh - " he coughs a little, making you snicker at him between bites.
"That's not spicy at all," you say. "At least, it's nothing compared to what we'll have next."
The chicken wings are an unnatural bright red colour, covered in hot sauce and dotted with flecks of chili. You lean down and take a whiff, your nose scrunching as the strong hint of spice hits your senses.
Your placating smile does nothing to ease Ewan, who only looks like he is regretting his life choices on the spot.
"O-kay, dragonblood. Time to breathe fire," you remark in an attempt to inspire some confidence in him. Didn't he take pride in playing a Targaryen dragonrider? Surely some part of him would want to overcome the big, bad opponent that is known in our world as spicy wings.
"Breathe fire?" he exclaims. "That does not make me feel any better!"
"Do it for Vhagar, my love. Do it for Vhagar."
"I'm doing this for you," he corrects, before gingerly taking the smallest bite of a wing. He waits for the impact, confused when nothing unpleasant occurs.
So he bravely takes another, heartier bite.
Big mistake.
His hand gravitates to the glass of water, and he chugs it down like a lifeline. His once pale face becomes the same hue as the fiery culprit.
"Fffuck, ba...by," he hiccups. "I didn't like that at all."
You have a bite, wincing just a little when it hits your throat. It wasn't too bad, so you tell him to calm down.
He complains anyway, "I think I just saw my life flash right before my eyes."
You chortle at that, which unfortunately makes some of the spice travel up your nose. "Oh god!" You instantly take a huge gulp of milk. "Don't make me laugh!" you say, when the heat dies down.
"See?" he cries out in vindication. "Why must we torture ourselves, darling?"
"The food's tasty," you counter.
"Yeah, but is it worth the price?"
You grip his shoulder, dramatically saying, "We have to keep going, soldier."
"No."
"Yes."
"You won't break up with me if I refuse, will you?"
You pause, making it seem like you are seriously deliberating it. "Maybe."
"What?!" His expression takes on a more real sense of alarm.
"I'm kidding," you giggle, nudging his leg with yours. He leans his head against your shoulder, responding with, "You're mean."
"And you're dating me. What does that say about you?"
He lets out a weary laugh, "That I'm just really in love, I guess."
That almost makes you give up on the challenge entirely. You could just let him eat the pepperoni pizza you have saved as the actual meal. But it wouldn't hurt too much to tackle the grand finale. The final boss. Maybe it will even get his taste buds to crack and cross over to the dark side.
"Baby?" Here goes everything.
"Hmm?"
"It's time for the spicy ramen."
He sighs a true sigh of defeat and acceptance. "If I survive this, you have to swear you're never letting me go."
"That's your bargain? Easy, baby."
His blue eyes bore into yours. His cheeks are still red and he's still sniffling from the spice, but his sentiment holds weight. He shrugs, before his arm reaches out for the bowl of ramen, making it known that he has already accepted his fate.
You slide the glass of milk closer to him.
"Try not to get it on your lips as much as possible," you advise him, growing worried as the ramen pack did warn that it was '2x Spicy'.
You cringe inwardly as a forkful of noodles enters his mouth. He drops his arm, chewing slowly, and finally the food gratefully slides down his throat.
"Mmm," he clears his throat, trying his hardest to remain calm. His forced, blank expression is even more alarming than the alternative.
"Ewan?" He turns his head toward you, slowly. And you see the full extent of the damage. His eyes well with tears, and his breathing is shallow from an even more congested nose.
"I'm okay," he wheezes, trying to maintain a show of boldness for your sake. "I can do this."
"You don't look okay." You shake your head at him, as his face takes on an even deeper shade of red.
A pained grunt escapes him. "Maybe a kiss will make it better."
A cursory glace at the ramen sauce staining his lips compels you to protest without a second thought. "How about no? You've got it all over your lips."
"Darling, who cares? You're going to eat them too!" he says, scandalised.
"But I've got a technique. I don't let it touch my lips so it doesn't burn!" You inch away as he leans in.
"So you won't kiss me?" He uses his baby blues against you, eyes bright and shimmering as he pouts in disappointment.
"You don't need a kiss." He tries to grab you, making you stand from your chair to get away. With your palm outstretched, you implore him, "Baby, just drink your milk."
"Then I get a kiss?"
"Fine. Then you get a kiss."
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Tom calls you a few days later, his tone animated from the moment you pick up. "Would you look at that! I didn't think I would get a hold of you lovers. Thought you'd be busy doing somethin' else, if y'know what I mean."
"It's noon here, Tom," you reply matter-of-factly, stretching your legs out on the bed.
"So? I reckon Captain Big Balls over there has got it in him."
"Wow," you let out an amused exhale. Tom always did have a way about him, being a Manc and all. "Well, he's in the shower right now if you wanted to speak to him."
"I'm surprised you're not in there with him, love! You guys are all over the news, bloody hell. Even out here, everyone's buzzin' about the hot new couple from House of the Dragon. And no, it's not Matt and Fabien."
You smirk at his last remark, "Are you sure it's not Matt and Fabs?"
"Positive," he says. "But we never know what could happen. Anyway, how in the hell did you convince him?"
You rack your brain for what exactly he could be pertaining to. "Convince him to do what?"
"To create a bloody Instagram profile, that's what!"
Your mouth falls open, and you quickly put him on speaker so you can scroll to the aforementioned app. Sure enough, it doesn't take long for you to sift through your new follower notifications before you find him.
His username is on brand - straightforward and no-frills - just ewanmitchell . Already verified with a hundred thousand followers and counting. In his following list, however, there is only one - your profile.
If the papparazzi pictures and tabloid stories and fan encounters hadn't convinced everyone yet, likely this will.
Ewan, notorious not only for his charisma and pure talent, but also for being steadfast in staying off social media, has sent the entirety of Ewan Nation into a tailspin with his profile.
Icing on the cake - he only follows you.
"You see, this is what convinces the public that you two are not PR," Tom says. "Because Ewan would never, ever get on the socials for just anyone."
"I didn't even know he made this. I haven't been online in quite a bit."
"Been busy, huh?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"Doin' a lot of stuff out there?"
"I guess."
"Like Ewan?"
"Tom, I'm going to lynch you when I see you."
He only laughs, having gotten his desired outcome from prodding at you.
The bathroom door slides open, and Ewan steps out with nothing but a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist.
"Who's that?" he mouths at you.
"Tom," you answer loudly, prompting Tom to greet Ewan from the speakerphone.
"Aemond the Fierce!" he bellows, the long-distance call doing nothing to stifle his personality. "I always knew you had it in ya. Ever since you laid eyes on her during the table read, I knew it was only a matter of time."
Well, isn't that a revelation. You had thought it was just you harbouring a crush in the beginning. "The table read, really? I just remember being so nervous," you say.
"I thought you were attractive," Ewan admits, scratching the back of his neck. "And you were reading your lines with such passion that I... "
Tom interrupts, "He ran over to me and told me to show him your social media."
"Not just that, I - "
"He wanted to see whether you had any pictures with a boyfriend or something."
"Alright, alright." Ewan snatches the phone from your hand, as if that will keep Tom from exposing him even more. "How are you, mate?"
"I'm good, lad, and yourself?"
Ewan glances at you, seeing that you've gone back to reading a script, your brow furrowed in concentration.
A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
"I'm great. I'm happy."
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"Over here! Over here!"
"How's your evening going, you guys? How are you enjoying LA?"
The papparazzi needlessly try to make small talk and they flash their cameras in your face. You and Ewan barely have time to grimace at each other once you get inside his car. The restaurant where he took you to dinner hadn't been crawling with paps when you arrived. Someone must have tipped them at some point.
Ewan instinctively reaches for your hand when you've driven some distance away from the restaurant, a breath of relief exiting his lungs.
"That's Hollywood for you, baby," he says amusedly, putting on his best standard American accent.
The car speeds through the streets of LA. Heading to Mount Hollywood, you have the famous Griffith Observatory set as your destination.
You have always wanted to go, and it only took one mention to Ewan before he planned it for your next date.
It doesn't take long before the observatory's iconic structure comes into view. Its white domes seemingly gleam under the night sky, a sentinel watching over the city of Los Angeles.
Stepping out of the car, you take in the scene in awe. The resulting look on your face lets Ewan know he made the right choice in taking you here. He'd take you here everyday if it meant seeing you in a spell of childlike wonder.
The observatory itself is just a bonus.
The outer balcony stretches like a vertice into the vastness of the city, a sea of lights glistening down below. It seemed to sprawl on endlessly, a labyrinth of hopes and pains and dreams.
You stand there, drawn to the view like a moth to a flame. The evening breeze dances through your hair, and your face is aglow from the illuminated city.
Smiling widely, you turn and find Ewan lingering just behind, watching you.
"Come and look at this, my love," you wave him over.
He wants to capture the moment, so he does. He subtly points his camera in your direction. Your profile is partially visible, with your face turned out into the horizon. Your silhouette stands before a mosaic of the shining city.
But it's you that has his attention. You that pulls all of his focus into the frame.
He never thought he would have much use for a public social media profile like the one he created on Instagram, but hours later, as you're sound asleep beside him, he finds purpose for such a thing.
He uploads the first ever photo on his profile - the one he secretly took of you at the observatory.
Too conscious to think of a caption, he doesn't type in any, content to let the photo speak for itself.
Putting his phone away, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and falls into blissful slumber.
Ewan hadn't been aware of the phrase breaking the internet, and he's in for quite the rude awakening.
Even so, he doesn't let it faze him.
You're in shock when you discover the amount of comments under the photo, well past the twelve thousand mark when you wake up. Positive, negative, and everything in between.
Almost unheard of for an Instagram debut.
His reaction?
"At least everyone knows that you're mine now. What's wrong with that?"
You can vote here on the reader's hotd character name!
Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy (continued in comments)
The sad, angsty bits will be saved for the next proper chapter! What happens to Ewan's Instagram then? What happens to him?? 🥲💔
I was going to include the double date idea, but alas, my ideas ran dry.
I've got nothing but love for all of you that have followed this story to this point! If you've got scene requests, just let me know!
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#aemond targaryen#chemical override#ewan mitchell fanfic#hotd
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