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#I finally wrote some words again! a thousand of them!
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I love writing
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kiss-inthekitchen · 6 months
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bonus! i said i wasn't posting anything new til this weekend but i just got up to s5 e2 and spencer reid with that lollipop has made me insane, here's a drabble i just wrote in like 30 mins. barely edited, hot off the presses, hope u like
sucker
~500 words
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Who the hell let this man have a lollipop in the workplace?
You could kill Garcia. 
You’re trying to act normal– trying so hard– but he looks so good. His hair is longer than it's ever been, so beautifully curly at the ends and you just know it’s soft. You need to test the theory but you can’t and it kills you on even a regular day. 
But today is a thousand times worse. There’s something about Spencer since he got shot, he just seems to give less of a shit. It definitely shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. 
It doesn’t help that you’d come in to tell him that you all had to be on the jet in thirty, and then he and Garcia had started asking questions, so Spencer’s been looking up at you from his chair for the past few minutes and something about it is getting to you. 
So yeah, you’re trying not to get so immediately caught for staring at Spencer as he wraps his lips around the lollipop again, but you’re also not about to miss a single second of it. You’re not about to do yourself that disservice. 
You clear your throat as the news broadcast about your unsub ends. “Right. So we’re going to Louisville.” 
Spencer moves to get up, finally. Popping the candy in his mouth, he waves one– large, long-fingered– hand at Garcia and reaches for his crutches. 
What is wrong with you?? You need to get it together before you’re stuck on the jet with pretty boy and all of the most astute people-readers in the Western hemisphere. 
God, you hate your life. If the universe was kind and loving it wouldn’t have had you meet Spencer in the behavioral analysis unit. If the universe was kind and loving, Spencer would be yours already. 
This was some kind of cosmic joke. 
“You good?” he asks. He took the lollipop out of his mouth to speak to you, his eyebrows raised in the most annoyingly attractive way. 
“Yeah?” you scoff, as if he’s the one being weird. 
“Okay. Cause you told me we have to leave and now somehow you can’t keep up with the guy on crutches,” he muses from the doorway, while you haven’t moved an inch. 
This man. If he wasn’t injured you would hurt him. You might just do it anyway. 
You shoot him a sarcastic smile. “I was being polite.” 
“How chivalrous of you,” he says, putting the candy back in his mouth and crutching his way down the hall without a second glance. 
You look at Garcia, and it’s a mistake. You can read her like a book. “Don’t,” you warn, pointing at her, and she presses her lips together but is clearly smiling behind them. “And I am so mad at you for that,” you add, gesturing after him. 
“Wh– he just took one, it’s not like I–” 
“Save it!” you call, already halfway out the room. You hear her laugh behind you, and shake your head. You love that girl, but she was not doing you any favors. 
Fuck it. 
You breeze past Spencer in the hallway. “Keep up, pretty boy.” 
You hear his indignant, playful scoff behind you, and you can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face.
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azziesbattybaddie · 2 months
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You are my survival
Azriel x reader
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You and Azriel are mates. Az knows it, you don't, that is until a particularly hard training session when the truth finally come out.
Word count: 5k
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Requested: no
Warnings: fem reader, shadow play, smut, swearing, choking kink, praise, Azriel's wingspan, oral F and M receiving, Az is a Dom, PinV, we die like men
🔥 means smut will follow
Authors note: this is the first WIP I've finished in like 2 or 3 years so be gentle on me I also wrote this with one of my friends on discord and she is absolutely amazing, constructive criticism is welcome and plz let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy!
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"Pay attention."
His words weren't harsh by any means. No, Azriel would never raise his voice at you, but he'd be lying if he said training you was easy. He watched as you breathed heavily, body glistening with sweat. You'd been at this for hours. Clearly, you'd underestimated just how difficult swordplay was.
"I'm trying my best"
He let out a small chuckle, watching your brows furrow with frustration as he managed to point his sword at your neck, Again.
"Gotcha."
"dammit!"
You threw your sword down in frustration and slinked over to the corner of the ring. Before hugging your knees to your chest and sulking.
"I'm done, I'm quit!"
Sheathing his sword, Azriel approached you slowly, his footsteps silent on the straw-covered floor. He stopped a few feet away, giving you space but close enough to offer comfort.
"Hey, hey now," he murmured softly.
"Don't give up just yet."
He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance.
"Training is hard, y/n. It's supposed to push you, make you stronger. It's okay to feel frustrated, but don't let it consume you."
He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
"You're doing better than you think. You've improved so much since we started. It's just... progress takes time. And patience." He offered you a small, encouraging smile.
"And maybe some water? You've been at it all day."
"yeah well maybe I should train with someone else because your a thousand times better than me and you have 400 years of experience on me so even if I am getting better your skill just dwarfs mine..."
Azriel looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He had expected such a reaction from you, and he couldn't say that he blamed you either.
"You underestimate yourself," he told you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"It may take time, but you will get there. Just keep practicing and if you can't believe in yourself, believe in the fact that I'm starting to feel your progress in your punches." As always tried to joke with you slightly but seeing as he got nothing but a half earned smile he let himself fall quiet.
He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting down to his scarred hands fiddling with them idly. There were things he wanted to tell you, things he wanted to share about his past, but he knew you weren't ready for them yet. Maybe one day, when you were strong enough, he could tell you everything.
Following his gaze, you watched as he picked at his nails and cuticles. You had known Az for a few hundred years now and as long as you had known him he had never shared the story of his warped skin and you had never worked up the courage to ask, that was until now.
"can I ask you a question without you getting upset? You can tell me to screw off if you don't want to answer, I won't push." You said in a timid, whispered voice. Azriel turned to look at you, his expression curious.
"Of course, y/n. What is it?"
He kept his tone calm and non-threatening, not wanting to scare you off. Whatever it was, he would do his best to answer honestly.
"what happened to your hands?"
Azriel's expression softened, and he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he remembered.
"My hands... They were burned by-" he let out a heavy sigh, flexing his hands under your gaze before continuing.
"they were burned by my brothers, many years ago. I was born a bastard like Cassian so I was treated differently, even by my so-called family. They it left me with these scars."
He lifted his hands, showing you the intricate network of burn scars that covered his palms and fingers. They were a constant reminder of his past, a painful chapter he would rather forget.
"what brings that question to mind?"
you reach to grab his hand but hesitated before touching him.
"I just always wondered if they were painful they still look painful..."He noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue.
"It doesn't hurt anymore, physically at least. But sometimes, the memories can still be quite painful." He lowered his hands, his gaze returning to yours staying quiet for a beat.
"It's alright, y/n. You won't hurt me by touching them. I won't bite or as Cass would say 'i won't bite unless you want me too'" he says with a half honest grin trying to lift the mood slightly.
He held out his hand, palm facing up, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to show you that he trusted you, that he was comfortable with you touching him. "Go ahead, y/n."
you gingerly brushed your fingers over his scarred hand before taking one of his hands in both of your running your thumbs over the back before smile and saying softly
"They always looked soft still..."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt his face heat slightly at the praise. He never wanted to feel anything other than your gentle touch on his scarred hand.
"Because of the burns, my skin never calloused so yeah I guess they are."
He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. The warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the old wounds in ways he hadn't experienced in centuries.
"I never associated touch with comfort before. It feels like home." ' you feel like home' is what he would have said if he had the nerve but kept that thought to himself, thinking it to cheesey to say out loud.
His thumb stroked the back of your hand, a tender gesture that spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you two. In that moment, the weight of his secrets and the darkness of his past seemed to fade away, replaced by a simple, pure connection with you.
you lifted your head to look at him only to find him already looking at you, your faces close enough to feel each others baited breaths.
Azriel's gaze locked onto yours, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a wild drum. The intensity of your stare was almost overwhelming, stirring feelings within him that he thought long buried.
He leaned closer, his lips inches away from yours. He could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and something uniquely you. It was intoxicating, making his pulse race and his resolve weaken.
For a moment, he considered closing the gap, pressing his lips against yours and losing himself in the warmth of your embrace. But he pulled back, breaking eye contact, reminding himself of the danger in such actions.
without thinking of the consequences of your actions you shot your hand out to cradle the side of his face turning him back to look at you and meet him with pleading look, begging him not to turn away.
Azriel's breath caught in his throat as he felt your hand cup his cheek, turning his face back towards you. He met your pleading gaze, his own eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear.
He wanted nothing more than to surrender to the desire burning within him, to lose himself in your embrace and forget about his past, his fears, and his responsibilities. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least.
With a heavy sigh, he gently removed your hand from his face, his fingertips trailing along your skin as he did so.
"y/n, we can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I care for you too much to risk putting you in danger. We need to focus on our training, on becoming stronger, you need to be ready for when hyburn attacks."
your pout deepened as you moved back slowly pulling your hand away from his reluctantly as you bit your lip trying to think of something to say to make him change his mind.
"Az we can still train and I've been getting stronger for years, why can't we just," you trail off, not knowing that words for the feeling you felt for him.
Azriel's chest tightened at your pout, a pang of guilt slicing through him as he cut you off. He hated seeing you upset, especially over something he had done.
"It's not because I don't want to," he assured you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
"It's because I care about you too much. If I give in to these feelings now, it might lead to something neither of us is prepared for, not with so much at stake with war coming."
He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to meet your eyes.
"We're mates. I've known for a while but even though we were designed for each other. And right now with hyburn threatening to breach our borders, our lives and decisions can't be about love or passion-it's about survival"
you pull his face back to you for a last time before running the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly
"I know that az, but you are my survival. you said it yourself that your my mate, do you really think that I can live without my mate, without you?" You plead tears starting to form in your eyes.
The words hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your admission cut straight to the core of his being, striking a chord within him that resonated with a depth of longing he didn't fully understand.
"You need my love..." he echoed, the words sounding foreign even to his ears. He'd never been loved, let alone needed. The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I... I don't know if I can give you that. I've never been loved, and I've never loved anyone the way I think I should. you deserve all the love there is in this world, and I don't think I can give you that."
His voice cracked with emotion, betraying the turmoil of feelings welling up inside him.
"you can,"
You step closer still holding his face you pull a hand away to grab his scarred one and place it on your waist and putting your hand on his chest over his heart gingerly.
"You have so much love in your heart that you can't help but let it spill over. You try to act so cold and calloused to everyone but we all feel you how much you love us. "
At your touch, Azriel felt a surge of emotion course through him, his heart pounding wildly against your palm. He stared down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or manipulation, but found only sincerity and vulnerability.
"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"That I have love to give?"
He hesitated for a moment, then placed his other hand tentatively on your waist. The warmth of your body seeped into his chilled skin, melting some of the ice that had encased his heart for so long.
"I want to believe it," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips once more.
"But I'm afraid of putting you in a dangerous situation that you never need to be in. Afraid of losing control and doing something that could harm you. We both know that my work is extremely dangerous and if you got pulled into that I would never fucking forgive myself"
"Azriel... Your the bravest male I've ever met, please don't stop being brave." You take a final step faces inches apart
Azriel's breath hitched as you closed the remaining distance between you, your bodies nearly touching. He could feel the heat radiating off you, drawing him in like a moth to flame.
"Brave doesn't mean fearless, y/n," he said, his voice low and husky.
"Sometimes bravery means facing your deepest fears, even when every instinct tells you to run." You whisper gingerly brushing you fingers over his leathers laying over his heart.
He reached up, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back slightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine.
"I'm just scared of failing you, of not being able to protect you. But I'm also scared of missing this chance, of letting my fears hold me back from trying to give us the life the cauldron has laid out for us."
"Then don't let your fears hold you back Az, let me hold them instead." You hold his hand over your cheek and guide his thumb over your lip again gently.
Azriel's resistance crumbled under your gentle guidance, his thumb gliding over your soft, plump lips with a tenderness that surprised even him. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he savored the scent of your skin, the warmth of your breath.
"cauldron..." he murmured, his voice thick with longing.
he closed the final inch of distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tentative and desperate, holding your sides as delicately as fine china.
🔥🔥🔥
you surge you hand up to tangle in his hair and let out an audible cry of relief into his mouth.
Azriel groaned softly into the kiss as your hand tangled in his hair, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to explore the warm cavern of your mouth.
As he kissed you, Azriel felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a burden he hadn't realized he carried until it was gone. In your embrace, he found a sense of peace, of belonging, that he had never known before.
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, panting lightly as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y/n, I've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion.
"Wanted to hold you, touch you, taste you now."
"then don't fucking stop now." You practically begged, chasing his lips.
Your impassioned plea sent a jolt of desire through Azriel, his grip on you tightening as he ground his hips against yours, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly.
"Oh, god, baby," he gasped, his breath hot against your skin.
"I won't stop, not now, not ever again." His hands trailing down to your ass, gently kneading the flesh under your fighting leathers.
"You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you so hard, make you scream my name until you forget everyone else exists."With that declaration, Azriel swept you up into his arms and winnowed you back to the house of wind before.
carrying you towards his bedroom as he devoured your mouth in a frenzy of kisses, his hands roaming your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you and you press your breasts against his chest, mewl desperately against his lips.
The sound of your moans vibrating against his lips was music to Azriel's ears, fueling his already raging desire. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he laid you down onto the plush mattress.
"Gods, babygirl," he growled, his hands tracing the outline of your curves as he knelt beside you, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh. "You're so beautiful, so perfect..."
Without another word, he began to undress you, peeling away each layer of your leathers with a reverence that belied his usual cool demeanor. As he revealed your skin to his hungry gaze, he marveled at the sight, at the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the sweet dip of your navel.
"And you smell divine,"
Azriel couldn't help but lean down, his tongue darting out to trace a path along the delicate line of your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin. He licked and nibbled his way down your body, pausing to lavish attention on each breast, his tongue swirling around your nipples before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.
His hands weren't idle either, slipping down to cup your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he continued his descent. His shadows hooked around the sides of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with a teasing slowness that left you squirming beneath him.
"Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice a husky murmur.
"What do you crave? Tell me how to make you come undone?"
you reached down to Palm the tent in his fighting leathers at the words and using your other hand to wrap the scared flesh of his hand around your throat.
"I want you to use me, own me Azriel."
At your command, Azriel's heart pounded with a wild rhythm, his cock throbbing in your grasp. He allowed you to control his movements, his hand tightening around your throat in a gesture that was both possessive and protective while one of his larger shadows gently brushed against the side of your face in stark contrast.
"You're mine now, babygirl," he breathed, his voice laced with raw need.
"And I plan to worship every gods-damned inch of you."
With that promise, he slid down further, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. He paused just above where you needed him most, his eyes locking with yours as he teased you mercilessly.
"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper. "Do you want my mouth on you, tasting you?"
"gods yes please!" You hold his hand tightly around his throat encouraging him to squeeze harder what you arch your back of the bed in hopes of inching your cunt closer to his mouth.
Azriel's grip around your throat tightened slightly at your eager response, his thumb applying just enough pressure to send a thrill of excitement through you. With a low growl, he finally gave in to your pleas, his mouth descending upon your dripping folds.
He lavished your pussy with attention, his tongue delving deep inside you as he fucked you with slow, deliberate strokes while flicks of dark swirl around your clit. He explored every inch of your sex, savoring the taste of your arousal, the feel of your slick walls clenching around his tongue.
As he ate you out, Azriel's free hand roamed your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples, leaving trails of fire and cold in its wake. He could feel your climax building, could taste your sweet submission on his tongue, and it only fueled his own desire.
"come on babygirl, ride my face while you come."
He brought one of your hands to tangle in his hair and wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs encouraging you to buck into his tongue.
Your hips bucked off the bed as you came hard on his tongue, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your juices flowing freely as you cried out his name, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close.
Azriel drank in your release, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as he savored the taste of your pleasure. He held you tight, his mouth never leaving your pussy as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, your cries of ecstasy music to his ears.
Only when you finally went limp did he release you, his face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, his chocolate eyes blazing with a fierce possessiveness as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss.
"Now it's my turn," he growled against your lips, his hands tearing at his leathers to free his straining cock.
"Get on your knees, baby, I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."
You eagerly roll onto your stomach and push yourself off the bed and onto your knees Infront of him batting your lashes and staring up at him with lust filled eyes.
Azriel watched you move, his heart pounding with a mix of desire and admiration. Your eagerness was intoxicating, fueling his own need even further. He discarded his leathers completely, revealing his veined cock, throbbing with need.
Azriel's breath caught in his throat at the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. He ran a hand through your disheveled hair, his fingers tangling in your locks as he guided your head towards his aching cock.
"Open wide, love," *he murmured, his voice thick with need.
"Show me how much you need me."
you took him into your mouth, Azriel let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your warm, wet mouth felt like heaven, and he had to fight the urge to thrust too hard, too fast. Instead, he set a steady pace, his hands guiding your head as you sucked the tip every time he pulled out.
"Fuck, good girl," he gasped, his grip tightening in your hair. "You fucking feel incredible..."You moaned softly as you took him deeper into your mouth working your tongue over his cock, your hands reaching up to cup his balls as you continue to suckle on his cock.
The sensation of your tongue working over his length, coupled with the feeling of your hands on his balls, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through Azriel's body. He watched you, entranced by the sight of your lips stretched around his cock, the sound of your soft moans vibrating against him.
"That's right, baby," he purred, his voice heavy with lust.
"Take all of me... Show me how much you want this..."
He began to move faster, his hips rocking into your mouth, setting a rhythm that had him teetering on the brink of release. His fingers threaded through your hair, urging you on, pushing you to take him even deeper.
"fuck yes! Good girl, just like tha- oh such fucking good girl!"
You moan louder now sending subtle vibrations down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck harder on his cock, taking him deeper each time until he hits the back of your throat. You gag softly but quickly recover and continue sucking him off as if your life depends on it.
The feeling of your throat constricting around his cock was almost too much for Azriel to bear. He grunted, his hands gripping your hair tighter as he fucked your mouth with abandon, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.
"Oh gods, baby..." he groaned, his voice ragged with need.
"You're going to make me come so fucking hard..."
His cock throbbed in your mouth, signaling his imminent release. With a final, powerful thrust, he spilled his seed into your willing mouth, his cum coating your tongue and spilling down your chin.
"That's it... Swallow it all..."
Swiping your fingers over your chin you collect the molten cream and swallow every last drop of his cum, your throat working to milk him dry, your eyes locked on his as you gaze up at him with a look of complete satisfaction and devotion.
Azriel watched, transfixed, as your throat bobbed swallowing his cum, your tongue working to milk him dry. He let out a satisfied sigh, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as he admired the look of complete satisfaction on your face.
"You're amazing," he murmured, pulling out of your mouth and offering you a hand up.
"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."
With a smile, he pulled you into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body as he savored the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.
You lean into his touch, your body pressed tightly against his as you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands running over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin.
Azriel dominated you mouth with a throaty moan, his hands exploring your curves with a growing urgency. He broke away from the kiss only long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.
"I want more," he whispered huskily,
"but I think we should save some energy for later."With that, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you back to the bed where he laid you down, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you.
You giggle lightly as he lays you back down on the bed, your legs parting slightly as you invite him closer.
Azriel's gaze followed the movement of your legs, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he saw the invitation in your eyes. He climbed onto the bed, settling between your thighs, his weight supported on his elbows as he gazed down at you.
"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he teased, his voice low and playful.
He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before giving it a gentle bite.
"But don't worry, love. I plan to take full advantage of that"
Feeling your hands in his hair, Azriel gave a low chuckle, the vibration of his laughter traveling straight to your breasts. He continued his attentions, alternating between teasing your nipples and tracing patterns across your skin with his tongue.
"Hmm, sounds like someone wants more," he murmured, his voice muffled against your flesh.
Pulling back slightly, he shifted his position, aligning his cock with your slick entrance. Without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you completely with a single, smooth stroke.
You arch your back, pressing your breasts back into his waiting mouth as he teases and bites at your sensitive nipples, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch.
"Fucking hell, babygirl..." he groaned, his hips beginning to rock slowly as he adjusted to your tight warmth. impatience."
He moved to your other breast, lavishing the same attention upon it, all while grinding his hardening cock against your core. Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion. But as he begins to move, slow and deliberate, you relax into him, your inner walls clenching around his thickness.
"Ah... yes..." you breathe out, your hands tightening in his hair.
"Just like that... Don't stop..."
Hearing your plea, Azriel picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. Each thrust drove him deeper into your welcoming heat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
"Gods, you feel incredible," he growled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he fucked you relentlessly.
His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, tracing the curve of your waist, and finally, cupping your breasts once again, thumbing your nipples into stiff peaks.
You meet his kiss with equal fervor, your tongue dancing with his as you lose yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your legs wrap around his ass, pulling him even deeper within you, urging him on.
"Oh god, Azriel!" you cry out, your walls spasming around him, milking him for all he's worth.
Feeling your orgasm ripple through you, Azriel let out a guttural roar, burying himself as deep as he could go as he found his own release. He came hard, pulsing streams of hot cum inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it.
"baby Fuck, y/n-" he gasped, collapsing forward, catching himself on his elbows to keep from crushing you before pulling out and gently resting himself on top of you, his hips still between your legs and his head resting on your breasts.
He stayed there for a moment, panting, his heart pounding against your chest, before slowly rolling to the side, taking you with him so you were draped across his chest.
"That was... intense," he panted, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your spine.
"Are you okay, baby?"
"Yeah... That was amazing." you murmur, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking.
As you lay there, spent and satisfied, your the aftershocks of your orgasm. You nod weakly, a contented smile tugging at your lips.
Azriel smiled, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as you nestled against him. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed to his, the steady beat of your heart against his chest.
"I know, baby," he said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.
"And it's only going to get better from here."
His hand trailed lower, his fingers finding your hip, where he gave a gentle squeeze.
"Now rest, we've got plenty of time to explore more later when you can feel your legs again." He taunted with a tired grin.
You sigh contentedly with a fucked out smile on your face, feeling utterly relaxed and loved. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his body envelope you, and drift off to sleep in his arms.
Watching you drift off to sleep, Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. Here, in his embrace, safe and protected, with his beautiful mate, it was everything he could ever want. And now, it seemed, he had it all.
With a final lingering look, he allowed himself to relax fully, his breathing evening out to match yours. As he drifted toward sleep, he knew one thing for certain - this was just the beginning.
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water-to-drink · 2 months
Text
If Only I Can Turn Back Time
(Pairing): Zhongli x gn!reader x Childe (separate)
(Synopsis): After taking the life of his lover thousands of years ago, Zhongli finds your current incarnation without another lover
(Tags/Warnings): Angst no comfort, blood, pet names (sunshine, darling, & babe), non consensual touching, not beta read (wrote this instead of sleeping), might feel rushed, (if I missed something lmk)
(Word Count): 1.1k
(A/n): It’s sad bitch hours folks
𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍
“Morax…? Why?” You gurgled due to your blood coming up to your mouth due to the gaping hole in your stomach
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, but I told you I would do anything for my people.” The god you used to call your lover replied coldly
You grit your teeth to say something to the stone god, but you decide against it instead opting to let tears run down your face as your vision gradually fades
The mystery of what you were originally planning on being your last words still plagues Morax to this day, in his new life stepping down from his role as archon and living the rest of his days as the mortal known as Zhongli. Were your final words going to declarations of love or hatred? He wouldn’t blame you if it was the latter, he would hate himself too
For years he tried to justify it by telling himself that it was the best for his people, but after the years of self reflection he realized it was only to protect himself. Truly thinking that if you died by his hands then it would save him from the heart break Osial’s betrayal caused him
Letting his paranoia get the best of him after Osial’s betrayal and Guizhong’s death he killed the last pillar holding up his life
“Hey! Are you listening?” The familiar voice of a ginger haired man brought Zhongli out of his bout of self-loathing
“Oh, I’m sorry. Please continue.”
“As I was saying my amazing wonderful beautiful finance is coming to Liyue!” Childe smiled and continued. “Their boat is arriving today and I’m so excited, I wish to have them in my arms and listen to talk!”
Zhongli sipped his tea as the young man continued to gust about you and how much he misses you. Reuniting with your lover is beautiful thing, he remembers the times where you would run into his loving embrace. Spinning you in his arms, hearing your melodic laughter, seeing your precious smiling face, feeling the softness of your lips. Sweet memories that will always be close to his heart
“Ah! Their boat is arriving now!” Childe looked at his watch and quickly ran down to the harbor, leaving his tea on the table. From his seat he spotted the distinctive mop of ginger running to the docks as a boat arrives to port
Though he is not a nosey person, Zhongli couldn’t help himself to hone his hearing onto Childe. Who is this person that captured the bloodthirsty man’s heart and made him giddy like a schoolboy? His curiosity was peaked
“Sunshine!”
“Gingersnap!” A familiar voice rings throughout the dragon’s ears
Hesitantly turning his head he sees a sight that he thought he would never see again. There you are, walking and talking like how you used to before the war. Even the smile he vividly remembers is still the same, only that it’s made for someone else
The Harbinger you’re currently hugging
Still in a state of shock Zhongli didn’t register that you and Childe were making your way up the stairs, until the both of you were right in front of him
“As I told you before, this is my fiancé (Y/N).” Childe introduced
Your name was different but still beautifully matched you, a name he wouldn’t dare shorten it to a nickname. A name that every syllable should be worthship whenever it rolls off his tongue
“Zhongli, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Pleased to meet you, Tartaglia has told me a lot about you.”
As the days progressed he got to learn more about this current incarnation of you, there were many things that remained the same yet, some things different. Learning about your new likes felt like he was falling in love with you all over again
“You know Zhongli, it feels like I known you for a long time.” You mention offhandedly
Oh how much he wants to hold your hand and tell you it’s because the two of you were lovers in the past. To beg for forgiveness for what he did to you and promise that he would devote his entire existence to protecting you
Despite priding himself on his patience Zhongli feels it wearing thin with each pasting second. There’s a constant conflict going on inside of him, one side wanting to leave you alone and let you enjoy your new life and the other side wanting you to remember the time where the two of you were lovers. It feels like a kettle that’s about to explode
“Goodbye, Zhongli.” You said, heartbreakingly similar to the way you said your last goodbye to him
Against his better judgement he reaches towards you and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace
“H-hey! Let go of me!” You said as you struggled against his grip
“Please. Please, remember.” He uncharacteristically pleaded as he began to use some Adeptal magic on you to share some of memories with you
Memories of your first time meeting, your conversations that would last til the sun sets, him confessing his feelings to you, your first time being intimate with each other. Every memory that he has involving you being shared, from the first moment to the last
Slowly you stopped struggling against him and he releases you from his grip. You pushed him away and turned to face him, your eyes had a glint of recollection yet confliction to them signaling that your old memories are flooding back into your mind
“Morax…”
“Darling.” Zhongli whispers as he opens his arms and slowly approaches you
Extending your arm out you stop the former archon from coming closer
He wanted to asked what was wrong but the look of betrayal on your face, the same expression you wore the day he used his spear to strike you down, told him everything that he needed to know
You don’t love him like you did before
Rapid footsteps alerted the two of you to the upcoming presence of another. A mop of orange hair pops up before the harbinger makes his way up the stairs and kisses you on the cheek
“Hey babe, is something the matter?” Childe asked, sensing the tension between the two of you
“Oh I was just saying goodbye to Mr. Zhongli.” You stated with a smile to your lover
Heartbroken he watched as the two of you walked down the stairs, your words getting out of ear shot
You turned to glance at your former lover one last time before returning your attention to the young man
623 notes · View notes
actiniumwrites · 3 months
Text
love amidst loss
synopsis: in the height of the moment, you nearly die and they can’t deal with the thought of losing you
characters: baizhu, scaramouche, kazuha, and cyno x gn!reader (separately)
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, near death accidents, not proofread (sorry)
notes: uh so i wrote this a while ago and didn’t finish it up until recently, so sorry of this contains some errors or if any of the game lore has changed or been updated and doesn’t match what i wrote :) lyney was also supposed to be in this but i gave up on his part…sorry 😭
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Baizhu:
“Qiqi. Bandages, now!” Baizhu yells desperately. Your heart rate was lowering by the second, while his was rising exponentially.
Qiqi slowly passes the small bin of various bandages to the doctor, “Yes, Dr. Baizhu.”
He can feel his hands shaking, tremoring as they work as fast as they can to close up all your wounds. Even throughout all his strange adventures and experiments attempting to achieve immortality, he’s never felt more afraid and anxious than in this moment. He could care less about hurting himself, but you? You meant the world to him.
“Baizhu…?” your eyes flutter open weakly while your elbows move behind you to sit up. A speedy hand pushes you back down in an instant.
“No, don’t,” Baizhu says, his heart beating out of his chest at the sight of your consciousness, “you shouldn’t be awake right now. I haven’t finished operating.”
Your hands feel fragile and your breathing is weak, but somehow you’re able to reach into your pocket and pull out a small bottle. It’s halfway full and a gentle lavender in color. It’s the concoction he had given you a while ago, in case of emergencies — an elixir of sorts.
“What about this?” you drop it into his hands. He shivers against your touch. What if this is the last time he’ll get to feel it?
Baizhu adjusts his glasses, analyzing the bottle in this hand, “Is this…? You still have this?”
You nod gently, careful not to move too much, “I saved what was left of it. I know you said you couldn’t make anymore, so I used it sparingly. Is it enough?”
Baizhu quickly prepares a bowl and some other ingredients to mix it with, “Yes, of course. I’ll make it worth a thousand lives over, I promise.”
A tender smile pulls at your lips while life beats back into your heart. Baizhu sighs of relief, resting his elbow against the edge of your bed with his pinky outstretched, “Please don’t scare me like that again.”
Your pinky wraps weakly around his, “Promise.”
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Scaramouche:
“What’s going to happen to them?” Scaramouche presses, leaning by the side of the bed Nahida had prepared for you.
Eagerly, he places his hand in yours with a tight so grip you’d think he was scared. And he is. Scaramouche is terrified out of his mind. “You idiot,” he mumbles against your hand, “why would you jump into danger for me?”
Your eyes are shut tightly and your skin is so cold. He hates the way it feels like he’s going to lose you at any second, despite Nahida reassuring him countless times he wouldn’t. He still has so much love to give you. And god, what if he never gets to admit that to you? To finally say that he loves you out loud?
His eyebrows furrow and his lips fall into a sad frown. Amidst it all, a weak tone that he can’t be bothered to disguise falls from his mouth, “Please just tell me they’ll be okay?”
Nahida fights the urge to smile as she stands by the doorway of the room, ready to leave and give you both space. She nods firmly, “I promise you they’ll be okay. You have nothing to worry about.”
He nods back silently, loosening his grip a bit on your hand but not quite letting you go. And as soon as the archon slips away from the room, a small and vulnerable, “I love you,” falls from his lips.
And he swears he feels your hand grip his back a little tighter when he does.
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Kazuha:
“Man, I drank wayyyy too much,” Kazuha slurs his words as he eyes begin to droop shut. You push his shoulder lightly to keep him conscious, a small laugh echoes amidst the waves of the ocean.
You feel it too — the buzz of the alcohol. The entire crew of the Alcor had been celebrating all night with big lights, tons of food, and an endless supply of drinks. Kazuha and you had already had more than enough, and it wasn’t until Beidou forced you guys to sit out for awhile that you realized just how much you had drank.
As you both sit on the edge of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge, Kazuha nudges you back. Only, it’s a little too forceful and you aren’t sober enough to stop yourself from sliding off. Desperately you reach for the wooden rails, but it isn’t enough to save you as you fall into the icy water below with a terrifying scream.
The water thrashes around you as you so eagerly attempt to stay afloat despite your lack of swimming skills. “Kazuha!” you scream before the water enters your mouth and begins to send you under.
In an instant he dives in, both of you now sobered up and well aware of the fact that a moment of fun had just turned darkly serious. All he can think about his how stupid he was for forgetting you can’t swim that well and that he shouldn’t have pushed you, even if it was a joke.
Kazuha finds you quickly and pulls you up fast. By the time he does, the rest of the crew joins around and helps you both back up and onto the boat.
His heart pounds a million miles per second as he watches you painfully cough out a bunch of water. Your skin is freezing to the touch and there are even a few small tears in your eyes.
“Hey,” Kazuha moves to hold your hand tightly, not only to comfort you, but also himself, “you’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
You only nod and lean back against the wood of the boat. He joins you quickly and you take it as a sign to rest your head against him. Gentle, but deep breathes leave his chest periodically and he can’t help but feel shaky all over. Kazuha had lost so many people in his life, and he’d have no idea what to do with himself if he lost you too.
“You won’t,” you whisper against his chest.
“Huh? Did I say that out loud?” Kazuha’s bright red eyes widen as they turn towards your resting figure.
You smile gently, “No, but I know what you’re thinking. You won’t lose me. I won’t let you.”
Kazuha hums contently to himself. He wouldn’t let himself lose you either.
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Cyno:
“Is it just me or does something seem off?” you pause quickly, halting your footsteps at the slightest rumble of the complex structure you and Cyno had wandered into. You draw your sword quickly while Cyno swings his polearm from around his back.
His garnet eyes dart around the various hallways and statues, scowling as he comes to a realization, “It must’ve been those eremites we ran into earlier. I should have known they weren’t just ‘camping out.’”
Neither of you move as the structure continues to shake. Panicked, your arm grabs onto his as your eyes widen, “What do we do? If we don’t get out of here in time, this whole thing is gonna collapse!”
“Calm down!” Cyno shouts over the crashing sounds of rocks and statues slamming against the floor, “I’ll get us out of here!”
Within seconds later, a giant head of a statue falls from above and crashes just feet away. It happens so fast you lose your balance, feet stumbling as your arm slams against the wall. Suddenly, the panel you’re standing on slides away and sends you flying downward.
“No!” Cyno yells desperately, grabbing your arm just in time before you can fall hundreds of feet to your death.
Your hand barely holds on as you gasp, “I can’t hold on, Cyno! I’m sorry. Oh god, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to touch anything.”
His eyes widen in fear as you continue to speak. It’s the most scared you’ve ever seen him, but he can’t let you die. Not yet. “Don’t let go, please!” His arms hurt as he struggles to hold on, just barely keeping his balance against the sand covered floor, “I’m not going to let you fall.”
“I’m sorry,” you continue to apologize, eyes welling with panicked tears. Despite it sounding like a confession before death, you continue to hold on as best you can.
As if the dendro archon could hear both your pleas, the shaking stops suddenly. Cyno’s head shoots up and his arm grips your hand even tighter. With all the strength he can possibly muster, he pulls you up to safety.
Unable to comprehend what just happened, you quietly sob and fall against his chest. Cyno doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you as tightly as possible. Afraid that if he didn’t, you’d fall again and he’d lose you for good.
“Are you…are you alright?” He mumbles against the crook of your neck.
You nod silently in response, “I’m okay.”
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nariism · 1 year
Text
ೃ⁀➷ ALL I WANT ✧.*
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a/n: tooth-rotting fluff !! this is so so mushy and soft. kissing and some touchiness but nothing too crazy i think. also this is unedited brainrot i wrote at 2:30am so enjoy ... <3
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Neuvillette has never told you that he loves you.
The words are always there— resting heavy behind his teeth just waiting to burst out at the most inconvenient times, and yet he's never brought himself to say them.
You don’t need the words to prove his devotion to you anyways, already aware that there is no other soul in the world able to hold him the way you do. But he’s always wanted to say it, stopped only by his own fears.
Immortality is a funny thing. In a thousand years you could be nothing but a distant memory for him, gentle whispers in the back of his mind or ghostly touches wisping over his skin.
The idea of losing you terrifies him, but he knows the loss well and knows to keep his heart safeguarded somewhere deep within himself. I love you are words he only murmurs into your skin while you sleep, or chanted in his head when you hold him.
However, you’ve been proving it difficult to resist ever since you moved in with him.
There's nothing extravagant about the way you wake up, nothing extraordinary or strange. You wake up like any Fontainian would: cold and gloomy and complaining about the weather.
Despite how ordinary it all is, it doesn't stop him from spending the first few minutes of the day admiring your face before he inevitably has to get out of bed to get ready for work.
Mornings are his always favourite; the slow stirrings of the day like a calm before the storm. Those few minutes are precious to him more than anything in the world, where he can do nothing but kiss your sleeping face awake and keep you wrapped up in his arms.
You've recently made it your routine to follow him out of bed a few minutes later. He hasn't found out why exactly until today.
He doesn't even need to turn around to know it all— every part of you memorized and carved into each muscle and filling any thoughts that cross his mind.
The slow shuffling of your feet across the room; the quiet yawn that makes him smile because he can imagine your face; the bumping of your body into the back of his in your clumsy state.
It's all comfortable. Familiar. You.
"Morning..." You mumble, arms wrapping around his waist and nose buried against his back.
"Seems someone slept well," he hums.
Your arms squeeze his waist a little tighter. "Because you keep the bed so warm."
"I see. Is that the only reason you decided to crawl out of bed this morning?" He asks with a little lift of amusement, placing his mug down and watching the ripples stir in his coffee.
"No," you lie rather blatantly, and he laughs in a way that makes your heart flutter. "....Shut up."
"It’s quite rude to say that to the Iudex, no?"
"Shut up," you huff again. Your hands carefully climb under the hem of his shirt and explore the expanse of his skin. The cold this exacts on him makes him stop in his motions. He shivers before finally turning around to catch your wrists.
You frown, gently knocking your face back into his body— his chest this time, where you can hear his heart beating.
"Not my fault you're so warm."
Neuvillette only sighs, scooping you fully into his arms and leaning back onto the counter so you can rest your weight against him.
And he knows every part of you like this too: a memory chained to his beating heart. A second life breathed into him meant only to remember you this way.
He knows you're cranky because the sun just rose and here you are, already shuffling around the cold house since he left his side of the bed empty. He knows that you're impossibly perfect in his arms— a piece of a puzzle hand-crafted for him to hold. He knows that it will be sunny today.
You are everything. Everything.
He pulls you away by the shoulders, nose brushing against yours as he leans in close to kiss you. There's a pause just before your lips meet— an apprehension in his actions. He sighs, shaky and nervous.
"I love you."
Then he kisses you slow and sweet, the same way he has always savoured that feeling twisting in his heart at the very thought of you. Enduring and knowing, lacking any more hesitation because he knows this is exactly what he wants and where he needs to be.
You're blinking at him dumbly when he pulls away, lips parted in such a cute way that he wants to lean in again.
"I must be hearing things because I swear you just said–"
"I love you," he repeats quietly, suddenly feeling embarrassed by his confession yet unable to contain the words anymore.
Your expression twists in wonder and for a moment he can't help but think that you're the most beautiful person in the world. In the centuries that he's been wandering Fontaine, he's never been so sure of one thing:
"I love you," he says for a third time in full confidence. His lips crash into yours again in a frenzy, a flurry of emotions swirling in his stomach and so many thoughts screaming in his ears that he can't think straight.
When he stops for air he doesn't fully leave you, mouth still married to you as he kisses along your cheek to your jaw. You laugh, arms circling around his neck.
"Can you say it again?"
And he will. He would say it a million times just to see you smile like that again.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
🏷️ @saetoshi hi my beautiful
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Text
the green dress effect | s.r
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summary: skirts were never to your liking and didn't work for you, until penelope convinces you to try one, and wow, do they work.
warnings: absolutely nothing, enjoy spencer with an IQ of 60. this story is spencer x female reader btw.
words: 1,113.
a/n: I'm finally back with a little au/blurb I wrote during my vacation, I've had more revelations of ideas during them so I hope you like it and wait for them. By the way! Thank you so much for almost 1k likes on the little boyband!spencer blurb, you guys are absolutely crazy, thank you so much! ♡
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶
You were never a big fan of skirts.
Any kind of skirt.
They caused irritation between your thighs in summer, the material was itchy, when you walked they lifted up and they were always too small. In addition to the sexist comments from men for wearing them, the whistles in the street and the typical comment of "your skirt is too short, you pretend to seduce someone with it" by men who think it is not their fault, but yours for seducing them.
Under that stigma, the skirt was never an option for everyday wear.
Pants, on the other hand, were more comfortable.
They allowed you to walk around easily, they were easy to match, plus they were always on discount at the supermarket.
And they were much more comfortable to wear when you started working at BAU. In fact, they became your best friend.
You could swear on your family that no one had ever seen you in a skirt or dress. You could count on the fingers of your hand the number of times you wore anything other than your collection of different colored pants.
In winter they were long pants, straight cut, flared leg, tight, all kinds. In summer they were shorts or fisherman cut pants, or they could also be ones with a thinner fabric.
Occasion there was, occasion you had a pair of pants for it, as if it were a Taylor Swift song.
That was until Penelope convinced you to accompany her to a little clothing store, with the excuse that she was looking for some accessories for her new outfit for the arrival of spring.
In front of you was a beautiful green dress fitted to your figure, with a nice loose skirt that allowed you to move without feeling trapped.
It fit you like a glove, in the words of Penelope, your new image consultant. It gave a new touch to your aesthetics without taking away the tranquility that usually surrounded your attire.
You had looked in the mirror a thousand times before you could make up your mind - but Penelope's compliments were the fuel for your confidence and you decided to take it home.
After a long week of work, the day finally came when the only thing that needed to be done was the paperwork.
The case? An unsub in Miami who was looking to regain the attention he had as a child, after being involved in a case where his babysitter at the time was murdered. To make himself relevant again, he decided to imitate these deaths so they could talk about him again as they had done before.
Monday had arrived and you could feel the cool breeze on your legs after getting on the elevator. The dress had been the perfect fit for that cool day at Quantico, plus it lent a cheerful tone to the office filled with shades of black and gray.
The persistent murmur reached the ears of your colleagues, who were already immersed in the reports they had to send at the end of the day. Penelope was the first to see what the distraction was about and was surprised by your new look.
"Look at you! No way, you look beautiful. You look just like a little spring fairy, finally someone who can share my love of cheerful colors." Blondie's arm intertwined with yours and they walked together to the cubicles, hearing Luke's whistle.
"Who are you? Please Garcia, introduce me to your friend" joked Luke looking at Penny, who shook her head.
"In your dreams, Alvez. I saw her first." You laughed at both of their comments, separating from Penny to walk over to your cubicle.
"Nice choice of outfit, you really always have an ace up your sleeve." Rossi commented towards your direction, thanking him for the compliment.
"That was a good play, you left a player more than surprised by your hand." Tara turned in the direction of the kitchen, where Spencer stood dumbfounded looking in your direction.
He was carrying two cups of coffee, actually he was carrying his cup of coffee and your cup of tea. But his usual commute was interrupted by your arrival at the office.
He thought he had seen all the wonders of the world, but he was wrong. He hadn't yet seen you in that green dress, which he was sure was perfect to put you at the top of the wonders of the world.
His cheeks were colored a sweet pink, his pupils had dilated and his heart rate had increased, so much so that his carotid was pounding.
"Hey, Spence." You rose from your seat, approaching the man standing in the middle of the aisle until you were facing him. You brought your hands up to his, taking your cup. "Thanks for the tea, it was just what I needed."
A soft nod was his response.
His eyes scanned from head to toe over your body, feeling it wasn't enough for him to take his eyes off you to observe every detail of you and that green dress.
"What do you think of the dress? I know it's not a usual thing to occupy, but I feel it's a good choice for today's weath- Spence, hello?" your hands passed in front of his eyes, catching his attention. "Earth calling Reid, is anyone there?"
Spencer's intrusive thoughts were interrupted by your sweet voice, who was watching him in search of knowing where his precious brain was at the moment.
"Wait... You don't like me? Geez, that's too bad. I think my choice was bad, I'll see what I'll do with him-"
"You look beautiful."
Your nervous glance went to Spence's face, who was watching you breathlessly.
"Really?"
"Don't put him back, please." Your own words startled him. "I-I mean, i-it wasn't a bad choice, i-it looks spectacular on you, well! You always look spectacular, all the time, every day, that's my opinion! B-but your opinion may be different, I mean.."
A giggle came out of your mouth, stopping Spencer's rambling.
"Thanks for the compliment, maybe for next time you can join me in choosing, I've decided I want to give dresses and skirts another try!”
Spencer nodded, following your lead back to your desks to get back to work. But the last thing Spencer did was work, because his eyes were on you and your cute green dress.
"And that's how the effect of a green dress brings an IQ of 187 down to 60!"
Emily elicited laughter from everyone, but Spencer was so deep in thought from seeing that dress of yours on the floor of his apartment.
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶
If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
a lot of love, alme. ❀
3K notes · View notes
girlboypersonthingy · 5 months
Note
Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?😭
Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.
Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
And I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“
You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.
“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
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nicoliine · 8 months
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The night Lucifer became your god.
☆彡 Your god had abandoned you; the devil stayed by your side.
Whose your devotion is with?
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☆ Disclaimer: I'm an atheist myself but was raised Catholic, so I understand that some people may find this disrespectful. Please, if you find the religion subject as a taboo to write about, don't continue reading.
☆ G/N Reader—no pronouns or y/n used.
☆ English isn't my first language and I wrote this drunk, so if there is any mistake please excuse me <3
Religion as a metaphor for love 🛐
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—"Eli, Eli, lema sabachtani?" Matthäus 27:46.—
In Lucifer's eyes, you were an angel.
There were few things that he considered pure in hell. His daughter, the love he once had for his wife, and the joy he felt when his last rubber duck wasn't a fiasco.
 
You, however, were the purest thing that ever stepped on hell.
 
It made him sick. It was like heaven had taken pity on him and decided to send you to bring love and comfort to his shattered soul.
 
The first time he ever stepped on your room, he almost thought you two weren't in hell, but in a church, your room resembles a presbytery. He was met by a big cross on the wall in front of him and a lot of candles around; the final straw was a bible on the nightstand.
 
Where did you even get that?
It was creepy.
It gave him chills; surely he was uncomfortable at first; he hated sacred places; it made him feel dizzy. But the way you talked to him and how you looked at him in the eyes made him feel as if he were in heaven again.
Except that both of you were in hell.
You were in hell. With him.
Your looks weren't any different; you often had a kind smile on your face. When someone made a gross comment, he never failed to see you putting your hands together in a praying motion. He got a glimpse of your scarred knees one time, and a thought came to his mind: you on your knees, praying to God countless nights instead of going to parties.
 
He felt jealous; oh, to be adored in that way, how would it feel?
 
And you were so sweet; you always knew what to say and how to react. Even when he felt like getting back into his depression hole, kind words came out of your lips as you held him.
He wanted you; he never, in thousands of years in hell, ever prayed to God, but he would do it for you to be his.
 
  ☆◦ •◦☆
 
If you are an angel, then how did you end up here? He often wondered: surely God wouldn't be so cruel as to send you to hell, right?
 
A scoff left his lips; of course he would.
 
It was dark outside, and the pouring rain could be heard from outside your room. In the comfort of your room, he couldn't help but ask. You just finished your prayer, an old but well-conserved rosary on your hands.
You don't really know what to say.
 
"I just guess that I deserved it."
 
Hearing you say that broke him, how could you say that you deserved to be down there? How could you be so cool about it? You even laughed it off. He didn't deserve to have you there; please don't be so mean to you.
You tried to change the subject almost immediately; you don't want to go on about the many nights that you stayed awake calling for your god to take you out of there, just to hear you. You think that Lucifer wouldn't like to hear you say that you don't want to be there.
 
Oh god, my god, why did he forsaken you?
 
Truth be told, you often questioned it yourself; you didn't want to. Guess that's why you're down there; you asked so many questions? how you spent your whole life following his rules, praying until your knees bled, and giving all your life to him, just to be thrown into hell forever.
 
It wasn't your fault.
You were so young and so naive.
Please, how can you leave me here?
How could you let me down even when you said you loved me?
 
  ☆◦ •◦☆
 
When you woke up in hell, you felt your heart shatter. Somehow,  you managed to make it to the Heaven Embassy, looking at the building and hoping for them to come back for you, you stayed there for days. But it never happened.
It should be a mistake. You couldn't have failed; what had you done wrong?
 
When you arrived at the hotel, you wanted to cry. Everything Charlie told you would take for you to be redeemed has been everything you did in life.
Then why are you there?
 
Every passing day, your chest hurts a little more. It was like pieces of your soul were falling apart.
 
"I feel guilty, Lucifer; I know I shouldn't question his actions, that I would never understand," you said as your eyes were fixated on the big cross on your wall, "but he abandoned me; he doesn't love me anymore. I highly doubt he ever did."
 
You later felt guilty for breaking the rosary in your hand. Lucifer, however, felt excited about it.
 
  ☆◦ •◦☆
 
It hurts to see you like this, it made Lucifer feel so bad.
I mean, he understands how you are feeling; he used to have so many dreams that were taken away from him the moment he talked to his creator. He just wanted to be heard.
But he wasn't heard.
He remembers how it happened—the court spat on his face in his trial. They didn't even let him talk. He remembers how he felt the air leaving his lungs, so humiliated and despised by his father. He grabbed a fist of his shirt while they brought his sentence. His chest hurts a lot. He looked at his father, asking for forgiveness that he was never granted.
So he understood your pain; he felt your pain as his while you looked so hurt. You two weren't so different.
Except you were, you are a pure soul who did everything right, no questions asked ever. It makes his blood boil.
 
How could God treat you like this while Lucifer could break hell apart just for you to be on your knees for him?
He wanted to bring you comfort, but what does one say in a moment like this? What could he say that could give your heart rest?
 
You felt guilty; you felt remorse, wrath, pain, sadness—you didn't know what to think or how to react. You felt like your own father had abandoned you, leaving a hollow in your soul that couldn't be filled.
 
Everything left was for you to wait.
Wait to find something else to live for.
Something to pray for.
Someone to believe.
 
"If you were mine, I would never abandon you." Lucifer felt no remorse to say that; he wasn't taking advantage of your state. He just was showing you the right way, by his side you would never feel neglected or hurt. This is how it must have been since the beginning; if you had given him your heart since the beginning, you wouldn't have felt so much pain.
 
He would take care of you forever.
 
To have you on your knees before him was strange. He dreamed about this exact moment for so long, but he never thought it could really happen.
But it was happening.
You were there, with so much devotion in your eyes that it was impossible to look away.
He could see in your eyes that you would do everything he asked for.
How could God let you go when you were so devoted?
 
He wouldn't let you go.
Never.
You are his now.
You are his loyal believer; he's your god.
 
Like it always was supposed to be.
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About where the inspiration for this came from:
There's a Mary statue in Spain that I absolutely loved the work of the sculptor, it's called: "María Santísima de la Quinta Angustia." —love the name!Her hurt face gave me chills and I thought about this writing. Please take a look at her, she looks like a doll! ✨
 
Likes and reblogs are appreciated. 💞
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skrrts · 1 month
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& action! (oneshot) mature!
✧ afab!reader x choi san ✧ reader is an unknown actress & san is a popular actor ✧genre: non-idol, show business, strangers, from dislike to interest ✧ word count: 8k ✧ warnings: san’s an asshole in the beginning, rude comments, insecurities, deep kiss with tongue and teeth but it's short, she/her for mc, nickname "pretty girl", mdni!
after countless boring little acting roles, you are finally cast as the female lead for an upcoming streaming series. everything would be perfect, if not for learning that the male lead is none other than choi san, highly praised for his skills but known to harshly criticize and even look down on his female co-stars.
a/n: this oneshot taught me i am not good at writing mean san. i wrote this 2 weeks ago but i didn't like it. now ended up editing the parts i was iffy about. it's a cliche plot of the mean guy going soft for you. i hope it still might be a fun read 🫶 this was inspired by a ranking of "top worst k-drama actors behind the scenes". there are no suggestive scenes but since there's rude/behavior talking, i will consider it mature, so mdni
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As a child, you dreamed of becoming a musical artist, standing on stage and singing beautiful songs that made others cry. But reality was always by your side. Your family made just enough to give you a decent, average life, something you were thankful for, and you never blamed them for being unable to afford vocal lessons. Instead, you joined your school’s theatre group, went to college, and started affordable acting lessons in between several part-time jobs to pay for a dream that kept changing. Maybe you couldn’t perform the way you wanted, but there could still be a way to be out there. It was a fool’s dream, but a part of you thought maybe if you just became a successful actress, you could chase your original wish when money was less of a problem and names opened doors.
Of course, you knew it was just as foolish, with hundreds of thousands of desperate souls trying to become the next big name in the acting industry. Your family wasn’t fond of it, but after receiving the long-desired college major in marketing, they gave their blessing, and you were lucky. A small agency was looking for what they called ‘fresh faces, raw and with unique talents.’ You had low expectations when you auditioned because your special skill was singing, but it seemed your dream was still there. The casting manager was in tears when you finished one of your favorite musical songs. A magical moment.
One that was over by the time you signed your contract and faced reality. You were a nobody, and the tiny roles you got weren’t enough to pay the bills. You started working part-time in a higher-class clothing store with brand names every child knew and you likely would never be able to afford if your streak of poor roles continued.
Two years of playing background store visitor, neighbor’s girl, the average student thirsting over the main lead for three seconds never to be seen again, and your biggest hit so far: the quick flirt of a vet who was weak for you before shaking his head remembering the female lead.
There was no doubt, you slowly questioned your own intelligence because why were you doing this? Years after graduation and in an office, as boring as it would be, you already could lead a decent life with a larger apartment that wasn’t smaller than your college dorm and wearing your hair however you wanted.
So what changed? The popular actor who played the vet invited you and five other actors to join a TikTok dance challenge and for some reason, it went viral because people asked who this girl was who pouted so cutely. And when they started to research you, seeing that you were hard-working rather than a foolish girl thinking beauty alone carried it, you were supported rather than a meme.
It all could be so perfect if not…
“You know, I have never seen anyone as dejected about being cast as the main female lead in one of the biggest productions of popular streaming platforms as you. You went from being ignored for too long to getting one of the best big debuts. I mean it, the plot of this is decent, you won’t just play some poor and confused girl who meets the rich lead.”
Yeosang was both a curse and a blessing. He was one of your agency’s managers and in charge of you for years, often complaining how the agency did not give you the role castings they should in favor of their bigger names when he saw the potential in you. Maybe it seemed odd to some, but the former child model had a good understanding of the industry, and you always appreciated his insights and advice. He had come to prefer being behind the stage rather than in the spot light.
On the other hand, Yeosang was awfully honest, sometimes a little too much when you just wanted to sulk while being driven to the table read in the fanciest car they had given you so far.
“It’s because of the male lead,” you muttered, and Yeosang frowned.
There had been a very short-notice casting change of the main lead, and you went from absolute excitement about a well-respected and liked name in the industry to pure horror. Choi San likely had one of the most dedicated fan bases out there, but among actors, it was no secret that he wasn’t shy to speak his opinion. No, there even was an incident where he managed to convince the production company to switch the female lead in the middle, and they had to start over. The writers wanted somebody more classy on the cast, and thus, you only learned about it yesterday.
“You have heard all those stories. He calls you out if you do not live up to his expectations, he will call you out and make the entire filming process a nightmare. It will be the worst three months of my life.”
If you messed this up, that would be it — no second chances for female leads who did not win over the viewers.
It was worse because there was also a rather intimidating scene where they would get close after some incident, and he would make her feel a certain way, lots of kissing and partly undressing. They promisedit was very professionally but … How were you meant to film something like that with a man who would look down at you?
Yeosang snapped his fingers in front of your face, and you blushed.
“Y/N, breathe! Let’s wait and see how it goes. I am sure the casting director considered that or else, as harsh as it is, they also would have replaced you. Being a new name for the larger audience, it would not have been a big deal for them.”
Maybe his honesty was good after all.
“You are right, sorry. Ignore it, I guess I am just nervous.”
Yeosang squeezed your hand. “And that is fine, this is your big chance, and I know you will give it your all.”
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You didn’t expect just how many people would be there for the first official reading. While you had already received the script, considering filming was about to start in less than a week, it surprised you how not only the main cast was there but also the makeup team, stylists, and a few people you didn’t know but assumed were in charge of the infamous indirect sponsoring of brands who likely decided if they were interested in wasting money on you.
The story was mostly told from your character’s perspective and suddenly, you understood why they spent an hour on your makeup: fresh but natural, your hair braided over your shoulder, and a casual outfit of jeans, a tank top, and a denim jacket, giving you a confident but youthful look. If they looked at you today and decided you did not live up to their brand’s expectations, that was it for them.
A particular male lead, on the other hand, did not have to try; he looked like a god even without any makeup. Jeans and an oversized white shirt, slightly open to reveal some of his chest, with glasses that made him look elegant, and hair styled back.
The moment Yeosang and you entered, all attention was on you. You smiled politely, as you always did, advised not to act any different from the much more casual and small readings the ‘npc of the acting industry’ usually received.
“Miss Y/N, I am very excited to see you,” said Mister Nam, the leading producer, whom you had already met during the casting process.
You accepted his hand and bowed: “It is nice to meet you again, Sir. I am very much looking forward to working with you.” And like that, you went through a row of people to greet, bow, and thank, even though you had no idea who they were. It was the manners; you were a nobody among somebodies.
The faces you paid extra attention to were Seonghwa, the leading makeup artist for not only the production but also the promotions that would follow, and Hongjoong, the lead stylist. They seemed kind, curious, and outgoing.
Then finally, the one you did not want to see but were meant to pretend to wildly fall in love with for the following three months.
“Mister Choi,” you bowed politely. He was a senior of yours and likely expected the usual treatment. As you looked up, you caught him staring, quite openly, as if making a judgment about whether you suited his aesthetic.
Officially, all those shows were from the female lead’s perspective, but they really just served as self-inserts for the mainly female viewer base who fell hard for the handsome man. There was a small grin on his lips, but he did not even waste a breath to greet you, like he decided in that moment to test your limits.
You managed to keep it together and sat down next to him. The reading was long and unnecessary, mainly the producer talking, with several inside jokes in favor of your co-actor and details already known to those involved. It was almost at the end when everyone was supposed to go and take photos for the press announcement, and they looked at you.
“We do have a small unexpected moment planned, one that actually isn’t in the official script yet but when I found out I could not resist. Miss Y/N is a very talented singer.”
Oh no.
“So we added a scene. We currently have a well-known songwriter producing a few lines for us, and the song will bring some tears.”
“Aren’t we all looking forward to that?” San added lightheartedly, likely noticing how you grabbed your jacket under the table a little tighter. They all laughed.
With that, everyone left the room except you and your male lead, as it was tradition to give the two of you a few minutes to get to know each other. While you were trying to find anything kind to say, this asshole did not even bother. Instead, he leaned closer.
“Listen, pretty girl. I have worked with your kind before. You were lucky and somehow caught the interest of a producer without any real passion, skill, or will to go through this properly. This show will be my last one before I go abroad; I cannot let it flop because you think your face does the job.”
He tilted his head to show you how unimpressed he seemed by you up to this point.
“You better not waste my time. I give you one day. If your acting is shit, you are out. Do you get it? While he is charmed by you, I have worked with Nam before and his moods change like the weather. A good friend of mine would suit this role perfectly, and she and I share great chemistry. She’s just one call away.”
You wished he would just intimidate you to the point where you were scared, but somehow, something in your mind decided to be insane instead.
You spat at his expensive-looking clothes, leading him to yelp and withdraw.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” he cursed.
In your mind, this was it. You just ended your very fragile career, but you were too terrified to act shy now. You had walked into the fire; now you couldn’t hope somebody would save you, so all you could do was… act.
“Talk to me like that again, and I will sue the hell out of you,” you replied, with no lack of hesitation in your voice, perfectly hiding how you wanted to scream or slap yourself.
It was unfair how he could be like that just because he had major successful roles in the past few years.
With that, you grabbed your phone and walked out of the room. Yeosang seemed surprised that you were so quick to return. He expected the two of you would have a proper conversation, as the chemistry was important, but you told yourself you’d just see if you really were cut out for this by faking chemistry that certainly was not there.
“Do I want to know?” he asked, brows furrowed when you shook your head eagerly, leaving.
“I can’t believe she just spat at me,” San replied, sighing at his friend who was slowly fixing his makeup.
“To be honest, I’d probably have done about the same, you know? Why do you always have to be such an asshole? Once upon a time, you were a nobody. I remember your first role, the son of the teacher. You were so adorable, struggling to catch any role until you decided to bulk up a few years ago. Now, you steal the dreams of women and men alike.”
The taller one only leaned back once he was satisfied with the natural makeup again, just gaining a stare from the actor.
“Yes, exactly. People pointed fingers at me, so I proved them wrong by working hard, changing myself, and then actively going for roles. I got cast for my looks AND my skills. Those female leads they give me, they chose them because they are pretty, or ended up going viral for some nonsense not because they enjoy the craft.”
Seonghwa sighed as he slowly stood up: “Sannie, you are far too hard. You know, just because somebody took longer than you and received fewer roles does not mean they did not try.”
Of course, he knew as much, but there just was no way around it. If this drama would be a success, he’d finally be able to leave this market and branch out. San wanted to be remembered as an actor, not the face of some k-dramas of the early 2020s.
“At least, give her a chance. That would be fair, yeah? If she really is such a poor actress as you seem to want to believe so desperately, then I will not be in your way. But should she show to have actual passion and talent, I’ll be in your way, handsome.”
San just watched as the makeup artist walked out, and he looked in the mirror again. He looked great; that was what they all told him. But sometimes, he felt like the look and the roles he often was given — the cold and rich asshole who only warmed up in the last part of the series —somehow it seemed to start swallowing up the one who was once Choi San, the one who dreamed of walking on international carpets.
Such a silly dream.
“Tsk, she will be thankful. I will be a much kinder way out of this before she wastes all her youth only to learn that she is just one of those many stupid people thinking they wanted to be on a screen.”
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You looked in the mirror. This was not how you imagined the first day of recording to go. It was natural not to start with the first episode, but the idea to film a major scene as the very first seemed insane.
At least, for two actors who had never worked together before.
Maybe this was the point? Did damn Choi ask that they do this so they could kick you out because there was no way you could play the dreaded separation of the lead characters as your first time with this man?
The makeup was fantastic. You looked like you had cried for days, but your natural beauty was still there, your hair far too pretty for someone who had run through a rainstorm to speak to the one she loved, begging him not to just leave.
“You are beautiful and stubborn. This is more fire than I have seen in any rookie in a while,” Seonghwa hummed, giving you an encouraging pat on the shoulders. Somehow, you started to wonder if he knew what happened the other day.
“Your makeup is stunning. I will give my best,” you promised and watched him give you a playful wink. Your outfit took another half an hour, and you prayed quietly not to get sick because, unlike San who looked like he just walked out of a magazine, your character was supposed to be soaked in rain water. At least that scene would be shot on another day and location.
As you were positioned, you had to wait for a few minutes before San finally appeared. As it was a tradition in dramas, later on, when the male character softened up, it was shown in his hair being less bothered by products, and you could not deny, if not for knowing how he was, you’d think of him as cute.
“Everyone ready? Good, we are starting in five!” The entire set was moving in one big crowd, and you took a deep breath in, exhaling as you looked up.
It was like you were looking at another man.
San’s eyes were so soft, it almost broke your heart, and you had to remind yourself you were shooting a scene. Fuck, he really was worth that damn money, wasn’t he?
“Summer,” his warm hands cupped your cheeks, and maybe it was good how this surprised you, how different this version of that rude guy was was because it was exactly the way the scene was meant to be.
“You are so foolish. Look at you,” he whispered, his big hand brushed over your cheek, and he looked up and down, taking in your appearance. “To run all the way through the rain, what if you get sick? Silly girl, you always get cold so quickly,” his voice was so soft, you could feel the emotion, the worry he put into every word.
“I am scared,” you whispered when you felt his thumb brush over your chin, and you tried to make sure not to fuck up the pace of the scene.
“You were just going to leave by telling your sister to let me know I’d not have to worry anymore. How am I not to worry? You are gone, it’s worse than what happens if we push on… with this. I need to do this with you. Please…”
You thought about how badly you needed this acting role to work. This was your last chance before you likely really had to give up because you were almost in your mid-20s now, and soon roles would get even tougher without a name and fame.
So you begged, and for a moment, there was something hinted behind his eyes like he was actually touched.
You likely just really were going crazy because of how impressed you were about it. Seeing it in person and working with this was different.
“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he whispered. The camera was zooming in. You started to cry, just as scripted, grabbing his shirt.
“This isn’t yours alone to decide,” you tried to push more energy in because in theory, you were meant to do just that, give him a desperate shove but San’s weight was shifting forward, making it impossible. You were slender compared to him.
“I am sorry.” he breathed.
And then Choi San acted entirely out of script. You were meant to rest your foreheads together, embraced in a deep hug before the scene would zoom out. Instead, he kissed you. The surprise in your face was anything but fake, how your body just sank against his because the arm around your waist tightened, and the way the set fell utterly silent except for the fake rain.
Oh no, he wouldn’t get you with this!
Your arm finally reached out, curling around his neck, and you kissed him back like your life depended on it.
Because it did.
Maybe all of those feelings did lead to helping with this because you needed him to be accepting of you as much as you hated it.
When the director cheered and everyone clapped because the scene was so much better with this unplanned kiss, you could only hear him whisper.
“Come, see me later. I will leave the address in your dressing room,” he removed himself, smiling and walking off with his stylist. This was the only shared scene for the day. All you could do was stare and wonder.
You cursed when you found yourself touching your lip, the sensation of kissing him still on your lips.
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San found himself looking at his own reflection in the mirror. You seemed to be quite weak for his natural hair, which was amusing. Every time he went anywhere, whether for a personal event or a public appearance, people always asked him to style it back. Maybe it was because it gave him that particular mature and handsome vibe they all liked, sparking their imaginations. Yet here he was, keeping it down.
He paid great attention to detail. The suit pants went perfectly with matching shoes, but the tight, long black sleeve shirt accentuated every muscle underneath the fabric, giving plenty to look at.
San made a decision. He was simply going to mold you the way he needed you for this to be a success. After the little shot earlier today, he started to have an idea of how this arrangement might work. He’d still rather have worked with someone he knew, but there were worse options, and he had to admit, there was no denying you were pretty to look at.
The address he invited you to was one of his label’s many seminar apartments, a place for their top actors to work with whatever coach they desired. With you still being no big name in the industry, nobody would pay you any mind for showing up here, and he trusted you enough to be somewhat discreet.
He poured two glasses of an alcohol-free drink and looked at the clock. A small frown appeared; San didn’t like the possibility that you might not show up. Why would you reject a private invitation from him? He looked at his watch again, twenty minutes over the time.
“Don’t tell me she’s still trying to make a point? She really doesn’t understand when it’s just a little better to swallow her foolish pride.”
If he was honest, turned tables, he'd probably have done the same...
As he hissed, there was a small peeping sound coming from the door, he had given you the code to enter. San turned around, his head tilting slowly as he watched you enter the loft.
Your hair was down, flowing over your shoulders, likely to deal with all the water styling for your shoot today. This was the first time he saw you wearing a dress, and it suited you well, especially as the neutral makeup highlighted your natural beauty, complemented with the soft green color of the dress.
He couldn’t deny that the little angry frown on your features was endearing.
“What’s this all about? It’s highly unprofessional for the two lead actors of a drama to meet like this. Yes, I still came because …” you paused, seemingly trying to come up with a good defense, but was there one?
“I … don’t care. I just wanted to tell you that. I do not care if you deem me unfit to be an actress. We get told that all the time. This is harder for us than for you. We aren’t allowed to make mistakes; your type, on the other hand, gets away with most.”
San hummed as he listened to you, picking up the two glasses and offering one to you. “Alcohol-free. Now, why don’t we sit down and chat? I agree with you, it’s unprofessional and risky, but I do it for the success of the show if you want.”
There was confusion on your face when you still accepted the glass and watched San sit down.
“After today, I am willing to admit, I see potential in you, maybe even a hint of talent if polished properly,” he hummed, taking a sip from his drink, and pointing to the couch opposite for you to sit down.
He enjoyed all of your reactions, wondering if you were aware just how expressive you were with them.
“I don’t understand…”
Finally, you started to listen and joined him.
“Your character, Summer, she’s all about being relatable and raw. You can capture this perfectly, and your way of showing emotions — not many actors have that these days. However, you need to learn to control them, for them to come out when you need it, not when they want to.”
It seemed you took a sip from the drink just to deal with your confusion. You swallowed while San placed his glass on the table.
“How do you mean that?”
Now, he had no intention of suddenly being all kind and polite. Truths were there to cut so you learned not to do it again.
“You are like a puppy that learned to roll over and play dead, but you’re still wiggling your tail out of control so everyone knows. You need to learn to use your skill of expressing emotions so openly to your advantage, when you want it, and not because you are reacting to your co-actor. You were almost melting when we kissed.”
Your cheeks took on a dark red shade not even the makeup could hide, and San just grinned almost sweetly at you.
“Do you ever say anything nice?”
“I just did. I told you that you have potential and I invited you here. You asked me to give you a chance, your way, and I am willing. I believe if you learn how to guide your talent a little, we can benefit. The viewers have a much easier time connecting with an actress who seems to feel like that, and I need the good views. I will help you be a bit more in control. In two days, we will shoot the scene that likely will go viral if we do it right and decide if the viewers ship us, our chemistry.”
It was meant to be THE kissing scene, the one they would use for the preview and trailers, to convince everyone of their great chemistry, and their characters were meant to be lovers, not seeming lost and confused unlike in the scene today.
“The kiss was promising today, but in that scene, we will actually have to make sure we capture the chemistry on point. No emotional moment occurred to explain why it would be different I will show you how to do it, so that when we shoot it, all will be quick and easy.”
San finally settled down by your side, and he could see how you just stared at him.
“I ask kindly for your permission so that you do not spit at me again,” he chuckled but leaned in close, ensuring you could feel his breath tickling your skin.
“Y/N, would you let me teach you how to play that scene perfectly, so that people may adore us when the episode airs?”
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“Fine.”
He was still rude, but the truth was you had come here hoping that maybe the two of you could find a middle ground. San did not need to madly fall in love with you; all you were asking for was a chance. Yes, you knew what you were doing was a little below the belt, but show business had never been easy.
Besides, he was not forcing you. Here he was, asking, and maybe, in a way, you both depended on it.
San still seemed too pleased, but he was relaxing back, giving you another look: “I take it you have studied the scene already. The benefit of us speaking ahead of the record is we can see to adjust it our way. Take it as advice for the future; you are the actor, and you can act in a way that makes those scenes a little more endurable.”
He reached out and played with a few strands of your hair. Maybe this would be a good idea; if you got comfortable with him, acting in those love scenes you were soon going to film could be easier, and you would no longer have to overthink if he was going to trick you.
“Episode five, after Baek and Summer go to the auction to save his mother’s necklace from being sold off, they return to her place. It’s before he intends to run away, so the atmosphere is playful and sensual. Baek admires her beauty from afar before slowly moving over. He places the necklace around her neck, his finger playing with it, and then he loosens her hair, and they kiss, tongue and biting."
Any time San was surprised, you felt a level of satisfaction that you managed to do just that, but quickly, it turned into a pleased smile.
“That’s exactly it. I see you memorized it. The scene is early on, and if we manage to carry over the chemistry there, the heartbreak later will be efficient. Good for us; your outfit is perfect. You just have to tie up your hair, and we can move over to the door and begin right at the start. It will help us if we play through the entire scene. We go through it, but any time you feel uncomfortable, voice it. We can practice and cheat with the perspective, so the kiss is not too awkward but satisfying to the producers.”
You slowly rose, fixed your dress, and cleared your throat as you tied up your hair loosely while walking over to the door. San was right there, relaxing against the door, grinning at you: “Are you ready, pretty girl?”
Really? You hissed a little: “What’s up with the name? Can people not come up with better insults?”
San hummed, shrugging a little: “Not an insult. You are that, a pretty girl. What’s wrong with it? I mean it, but if you want to strictly keep it professional, think of it as a way to warm up. The characters return from the auction, they managed to reach their goal, and now, in a mood of celebration, a couple all comfortable and confident. We have to get in the mood.”
That was fair, so you grinned: “All right then, hottie. Shall we get going?” He wasn’t annoyed at all, more pleased that you got the point, or so you guessed.
You walked to the door, taking his hand as San seemed to inhale before just falling into the role. It was like there was a switch, leaving his personality behind and becoming his character entirely.
“I can’t believe we really did it, seeing their faces when you just jumped up and then did the final bid the second it was about to end,” San sighed in relief as he turned around and looked at you.
It was silly, you looked at him, and your heart was beating a little; this was the most passion you had worked with yet. Not that the other actors had been poor at their jobs, but it felt more routine, like they just got it done because it was written in the script.
You smirked: “Of course, I told you. Never underestimate my talent! I knew they would not see that one coming, but now it’s done. I am glad we were able to get the necklace back. I know how much it means to you.”
Your arms curled around his neck, and you went on your toes to get closer to his face. San’s eyes wandered all over your face like you were the most beautiful person he had ever encountered.
“That is because you truly are the most amazing person I have ever met, Summer,” he whispered and allowed one of his hands to wander up, placing it very gently underneath your chin. Your gazes locked for some time.
“Stay the night?” you whispered, your tone more playful now. Slowly, you let go of him, turning around playfully, giving him an inviting look as you settled down on the couch. Right, Summer was about to take out her earrings. You did not wear any, but you wore some hair clips, so you gently removed them, placing them on the table.
San was watching you, leaning against a door. The two of you did everything extra slow since shooting a scene meant you did it more than once quite often if the camera needed a different perspective and did not always capture it right away on the first try.
As he moved slowly to you, your gaze lowered a little, and he sat down next to you.
“You are starring, Sir,” you teased. This actually wasn’t part of your dialogue, but somehow, it felt natural. Your character was supposed to be a little all over the place but not shy, at least not in this scene. If San was permitted to add as he wished, why not you?
“What can I do? It’s hard not to look at you,” he smiled softly and reached out, brushing over your chin before his gaze lowered, resting on your neck.
San seemed to think for a moment before he slowly leaned back. The moment when Baek would take out the box with the necklace, your co-star replaced it by unclipping the one he had been wearing underneath his tight long sleeve.
“And maybe that is because seeing you in this really is a dream come true,” he whispered, and as he leaned in, you felt his breath tickling your skin, the scent of a perfume you had never smelled before. He gently placed it around your neck. In the show, this would be some kind of elegant piece, but San had given you something long with a metal tag on the end.
Curiosity was fought back to look at it. Your fingers only touched the cool metal chain around your neck.
“But… this is your mother’s. You should keep it…” you tried to insist, but San moved closer.
“My mom wanted it to be on the neck of my future wife, and while we are both too young to think about it just yet, it is right where it belongs, Y/N,” he was so close now that you naturally leaned slightly closer.
The fact he called you by your name was surprising, and there it was again, the moment he did it on purpose. Was it to teach you the lesson of trying to control your emotions rather than being controlled by them or something else?
“I love you, Y/N,” San said so passionately that you needed to swallow hard. It was good that from this point on, the scene was only meant to be carried by acting and no further words.
His big hand moved and pulled the hairband out, allowing your hair to fall over your shoulder.
“You truly are beautiful, you know?” he breathed, and he was close to kissing you now. The camera was meant to capture the teeth and tongue, just to give the viewers some imagination without breaking what was acceptable for an evening show.
“Is it comfortable like that, or should I move a little?” he asked, and his voice was warm and sincere. What was wrong with the guy? Couldn’t he always be so kind and supportive?
“It’s okay like that, thank you,” you whispered, a little shy. San just smiled and nodded as he leaned in.
Your arm carefully moved to rest on his back, and then you kissed him harder than intended. It started slow and soft, but somehow you felt encouraged to show him that you could do this because you wanted to, and the force you used was a bit stronger than intended. You wanted to play with the camera too, capture the tease without too much. Your teeth bit his lower lip, and you gave him a challenging look, your tongues met in a playful dance.
You had his attention entirely. San was grinning and about to depen the kiss a little further than intended based on script but then the door opened.
The two of you instantly froze, and it was hard to say if it was relief or shame, but it was Seonghwa who stepped inside, looking beyond alarmed.
“What are the two of you doing here?!”
Now that you thought about it… you could imagine what this would look like.
“San?!” Seonghwa was strict, and the way he spoke like that with him made you wince.
You were about to sit up, trying to say something when San stood protectively in front of you.
“This was my idea. I thought it would help her relax since we are shooting this scene in two days. It’s tough, being expected to film this kind of kiss with a person that’s an asshole.”
Seonghwa and you both stared at him, and you wondered why that was. Did San never do this before, or was there something else to it?
The makeup artist sighed, shaking his head: “If anyone would have… never mind. We just got a call, and we have to shoot one of the night scenes tonight, so you have to come with me.”
You cleared your throat, fixing your dress again.
“Yes, you should go. Thank you for guiding me through the scene.”
San was looking at Seonghwa before looking back at you, and somehow, he seemed oddly displeased.
As you started to take the necklace off your neck, he shook his head: “Keep it. Think of it as a poor apology gift for insulting you during the table read. I'm sorry for that. I’ll see you on set tomorrow.”
San stepped out without even giving you a chance to say anything. Seonghwa only offered a small smile before he followed out.
As you were alone, you sighed: “Yeosang will murder me if he finds out about this.”
You played with the necklace and finally remembered the tag. As you turned it around, it was a name that said nothing to you until something came to mind. You pulled out your phone and browsed through San’s filmography.
Right, his first role was playing the son of a very popular actress at that time. He only had two scenes, enlisting into the military to be written off in episode three. The name on this tag was of that character. San just gifted you something from his very first set, likely very special if he bothered to wear and keep it after all those years.
“This guy, can he please decide what his personality is like?”
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“Hey, Joong, do you think San has the celebrity sickness?” you asked while standing still, watching what the stylist was trying to decide for you to wear for the preview photos.
It had been a strange month. You had barely filmed with San, or at least it felt that way. Most of your scenes had been with the other cast members first, and only now were they starting to focus more on the actual ones with the romantic interest.
However, ever since that day, San seemed different. He was polite, greeted you, and a few days ago, you could have sworn he even smiled at you when you accidentally spilled cappuccino over the expensive jacket that was a product placement.
The man laughed: “I didn’t take you for somebody who uses such words.” He was obviously amused while holding a few blouses against you, trying to see which one he liked best with your hair color.
“I mean, I did read how some actors have it when they find success and then later look back, realizing they have been little rich monsters.”
Hongjoong had once said he enjoyed that you were still quite uncaring with your words around the staff who were not the ones making big choices, and it likely reflected in this moment as well.
“Little monster, you say? Well, I admit that San has changed over the years. I worked on some previous projects with him, but I wouldn’t say it was fame. You see, San had to work really hard and change quite a bit to get where he is now. He’s not the height producers want, and he used to be a very soft personality. When he was rejected for a really important role after first being announced as the pick, he sat down, bulked up, and changed to the way he is now. I do not think he has celebrity sickness, but show business does change people, not always for the better, especially if you do not have somebody to keep you grounded. You see, his best friend moved abroad after college. He was the one who always balanced him, but these days, San spends a lot of time alone. How do you like this one?”
You had gotten used to going with Hongjoong’s outfit recommendations and Seonghwa’s makeup guidelines. You were about to be a lead actress for the public, and even your social media had to match it.
“I think I like the mint one,” you said, more lost in thought and aware of Hongjoong’s little grin.
“It’s your color. Now, how about we say this set is the most relaxed I have seen him in a while, yes? Anyway, it is getting late, and I know the actors are meant to go out and have barbecue together today. Half of the filming is done now. You work hard and should relax a little. Get some rest tomorrow. In two days, we will take the most beautiful photos.”
The stylist winked and sent you off. All you could do was sigh as you pulled on your thin jacket again. You wore jeans and a blouse gifted by a brand, your hair up in a modern bun, and delicate earrings finishing the look. Underneath, the gifted necklace was hidden. Everyone else was likely already there, and you realized how you were the only one without a car or a driver. Now that filming was going well, there was no reason for Yeosang to be by your side the entire day.
“Need a ride?”
San’s voice made you look up, and for a moment, you thought you might be imagining it. His hair was undone, glasses sat on his nose, and he had a very lazy smile on his lips. The jeans and oversized hoodie with a jacket on top were quite different from the always very styled actor you knew.
“I… would like that, thank you,” you cleared your throat. He nodded and led you to his car, which was parked not too far away. To your surprise, it was also quite on the average side, but then it made sense. If you were famous, you would likely try to keep some privacy.
San waited for you to get in and get comfortable before he started to drive. You were silent until the first red traffic light forced the two of you to stop.
“Do you have celebrity sickness?” you blurted out and did not dare look at him, sinking into your seat when he laughed softly.
“Do you think so?” he asked, and you were relieved to see he was taking this incredibly dumb question with a humor you hadn’t expected. He was tapping against the wheel, and eventually, you dared to peek over. To your surprise, he actually seemed to be thinking about it.
“You were an ass when we first met. Sure, I am not really the super-experienced actress, but it was a bit too strong,” you mumbled.
“Maybe I did. Wooyoung always kept me grounded, but when he moved abroad, I guess I just got so used to showbiz, I forgot what it meant to be me or to show any compassion toward people who likely started acting for the same reason I did: dreaming to play a specific kind of role, a stage, or maybe go somewhere. Then, it takes somebody bold to call it out so you wake up and realize it.”
Your gazes met briefly before his focus returned to the road ahead.
“I did mean it. I am sorry I was like that, but I am thankful you dared to point it out. It won’t make up for it, but I will try to do better now. I actually contacted some of those I worked with to apologize. I don’t really think they will answer me back, but who knows?”
If he really did that, San must have gotten over a lot of pride. Even if you felt sorry, doing something like that was surely not easy.
You drove into the parking lot, and he just leaned back. “I guess you were my cure, Y/N,” he replied with a gentle smile, and the two of you stared. For a moment, it was almost as if he wanted to say or maybe do something, but you just got too nervous, opening the door of the car.
“We should go.” Before he could say anything else, you were out of the car and rushing off.
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Everyone seemed surprised to see San so relaxed and wearing such a casual outfit, but there wasn’t much time to think about it. You were seated between some other cast members, and all you could do was glance over at him now and then, noting how he smiled and seemed more at ease.
Hours flew by, and before you noticed, everyone slowly excused themselves. Tomorrow would be your first free day in over a month, and you couldn’t wait to sleep in.
San and you were among the last to leave, and as you stepped outside, the night was much colder than expected. Before you could even joke about it, the weight of a leather jacket rested on your shoulders.
“You shouldn’t get sick,” he mumbled, then suddenly took your hand, walking you back to the car. It was hard to say why you let him; maybe you had gotten used to his spontaneous actions after filming several scenes together that felt quite similar.
The walk to the car suddenly felt long, and he was swinging your arms like some middle schoolers in love. He turned his head to look at you.
“Is this okay with you?” he asked, as if remembering to check in with you. It was sweet and innocent, and he almost looked troubled, fearing you might pull your hand away. You tapped a finger against your cheek, pretending to think about it before laughing.
“I guess. You still have a few weeks before I get so famous you’ll have to hide me,” you joked. Somehow, his expression told you he had thoughts about it, but those likely did not matter. Maybe he would tell you next time.
“I shall make the most out of it then, and for all else, people do love the story of two actors who played love interests admitting they fell in love on set… in theory. So, what if, once filming is wrapped up, you’d go out with me?”
“Somebody is getting bold,” you replied without thinking, cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you. But then, you thought about it. There was no denying that you had grown fond of him, enjoyed working with him, and treasured his little gift. The way he looked at you made you feel certain ways, but you couldn’t say exactly what it was just yet. Not to forget, the rough start.
Then, maybe you needed to be the one now guiding San, to find himself back again.
“I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing where things might go between us.”
That was all he needed to hear. You saw it in the way he looked at you and nodded.
“There won’t be any rush. I think I might reconsider the importance and urgency of my plans for a little while now that I’ve refocused on what really matters.”
San looked up at the cloudy sky; the stars were never visible from here.
You let him be, and the two of you just enjoyed the small walk before you got back in the car. Your apartment was quite close, and soon, he was standing in front of your building.
“Thank you for driving me and, you know, being nice,” you chuckled.
“Thanks for healing me,” he winked, but there was no obvious tease in his voice.
You exhaled as you got out of the car, leaving the door open as you turned around to look at San.
“I will see you the day after tomorrow for the photoshoot. Sleep well.” You flashed him a final smile before stepping back.
“You too, pretty girl,” he answered, his eyes not leaving you even as you closed the door and headed toward your tiny apartment.
But then … You turned around on your heels, walking back to the car, and as if reading your mind, San was opening the window.
You looked at each other playfully as you grinned: “Maybe you would like to come upstairs and have a cup of water, handsome?”
San laughed, turning off the engine. “I like the sound of that.”
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gyusimp · 1 month
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Can you please write a kenji sato x best friend . Where he is outgoing/ extroverted and the reader is introverted and totally opposite . Like he fell first but she fell harder troupe. Thank youx
°•𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 [[ᴷᵉⁿʲⁱ ᔆᵃᵗᵒ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ⁻ˢʰᵒᵗ]
3.5k words | No warnings | SFW | Fluff | I have no idea what timeline I wrote this in lol just enjoy it 💖😅
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"I finally have an answer to your question" Kenji confessed, smiling as he rested on your bed.
"So, do you know what you're going to give me for my birthday?" You had been joking with that for months.
Remembering over and over again the proximity of your birthday while he avoided the question on purpose or simply answered you “my sincere friendship” as a joke. Today he was visiting your house and you both agreed to meet in person to talk in a more pleasant way while you updated him on your things and he updated you.
"Just close your eyes" he told you, while you obeyed and he asked you to extend your hands to receive your gift.
"Wow, you're not even going to wait for the day to come" you commented smiling.
"Now. You can open them" he pointed at you and you did exactly that. You saw his cell phone in your hands and how it showed the website of a hotel with some numbers and its details written on the screen. It was a reservation for a month from now, right on the weekend of your birthday, to spend it alone at the beach, he knows how much you love it even though you haven't been there that many times, so he wanted to do something more special for you this time than just taking you to the movies or an expensive restaurant.
"I can't believe it Kenji! Are you serious?" You asked, to which he nodded, happy to see your reaction.
You were moved by his nice gesture so you hugged him and thanked him a thousand times while you talked to him excitedly, looking at the photos of the hotel on the beach, right by the sea. Kenji told you that he had even already talked to your parents about it so there was no problem with them, both of them knew Kenji since you became his best friend almost 6 years ago so they can trust him.
Kenji was happy to be able to make you smile like that. He would do anything necessary to always make you smile and let you know how much you mean to him. Things haven't been easy since he realized his feelings for you 2 years ago, keeping what he feels for fear of ruining everything you've built together has been exhausting and frustrating at times, but if keeping that to himself ensures that he can talk to you without any impediment or lose your trust then it was worth it. Sometimes it was still difficult not being able to tell you in a different tone of voice how pretty you look, hug you in a different way and kiss your face whenever he wanted, but it's something he's learned to handle. The following weeks you couldn't stop thinking about the trip, going shopping with him to try on clothes and such until the days were getting closer and now you found yourself doing a video call with him while you both packed your things to leave very early tomorrow.
The appreciation you had for Kenji was very special, both of you used to be different most of the time but maybe that made you complement each other better. You still remember when he was the one who took the initiative to talk to you at university when he saw that you didn't do it with anyone else, most of the time you spent reading, listening to music and avoiding people. You used to get along well with some classmates but it wasn't anything serious compared to him who knew a considerable amount of people on and off campus, he had several girls from different careers behind him and several fans who followed him even at the beginning of his sports career until the day he became a celebrity.
Despite being talkative and louder than the average of the people you usually talk to, there was something about him that you found pleasant and made you trust him, little by little feeling happier when you spent time by his side during breaks and then you started talking about him more often at home until you introduced him to your parents and the rest was history. The two of you were talking and joking on the video call, showing each other the things you packed and picking out your outfits. You loved that he had such a good fashion sense.
“Well, I think I’m done,” he said, taking out his phone.
“Wait, not me. I still don’t know where to put my makeup. Should I put it in the clothes or shoes suitcase?” you asked more to yourself.
"Don’t be exaggerated" he laughed "we’re leaving for a couple of days, not a month. Pack just a lipstick and mascara, i don't know"
"Obviously not, I’ll have to be touching up a lot because of the heat so I have to take everything. See! I almost forgot the sunscreen!"
" It doesn’t matter, I’ll bring one"
"Yes, but mine is tinted, like a foundation" you answered, making him laugh with the details you mentioned.
You talked for a while longer until you told him it was better to go to sleep. He would arrive early for you in his car. The next morning, you ended up falling asleep in the passenger seat while he was driving, your nerves didn’t let you rest well and he insisted that you sleep a little longer on the way when he saw you nod off a couple of times, when you woke up, you would meet at the beach. And so it was, in a couple of hours you were already on your way to the hotel and when you arrived it was more incredible than you imagined, the huge building full of windows and balconies was much bigger than it appeared in the photographs on the website. A lot of palm trees adorned the luxurious entrance of the place towards the reception as you both walked with your things to check in and get the key to your room. Anyone would think you were an excited young couple on their honeymoon.
You entered the room and took the bed you wanted since he let you choose, you placed your suitcases on the bed just like him and you changed your clothes in the bathroom to a cooler one. You called your parents to send them some photos and tell them that everything was fine.
"It's nice, isn't it? I didn't think this place was so big"
"Yes, it's incredible… thank you very much for the gift, it really is something very nice."He smiled when he heard your words and lightly shook the hair on your head.
"It’s nothing, anything for you… "
You two decide to leave the room and walk in and out of the hotel for the rest of the day. Everything is so nice and it’s nice to be able to spend time alone with him in a different way, Kenji can notice how happy you are and he loves the way he manages to make you smile. You are the person who has brought him the most happiness in this stage of his life and thinking about that makes his feelings for you only increase. Sometimes he wonders if he will ever be able to let you know, he is a self-confident person and maybe if the fear of losing you because you don’t reciprocate his feelings didn’t torment him so much, he would have already declared his love for you a long time ago.
After a day of walking around the place, he decides to take you to another part, more secluded from the hustle of the clubs near the docks and the tourism that fills the small place. You walk with him to a private part of the beach within the perimeter of the hotel where you decide to sit and talk, watching the waves and listening to their soft sound, feeling the cool breeze crash against your faces, illuminated by the moonlight and some torches serving as decoration of the hotel. The atmosphere was calm and relaxed, making both of you feel comfortable and confident next to each other.
"Thank you very much for everything Kenji…" He smiled, sweetly.
"I just wanted to do something different for you" You smiled in response, running your hands along your arms at the breeze on your skin. He got closer to you "Are you cold? Do you want me to go get your hooddie?" He asked, as attentive as always.
"No, don't worry, I'm fine. Our things are far away anyway" you thanked him, however, he found it convenient to put his arm around you to make you feel better.
"Well, then I'll have to take care of it myself" he joked as he hugged you, letting you cover yourself in his touch as you sat on the sand.
Silence was present for a few minutes, until your voice rang out again to speak to him. "You know, I also mean, thank you for everything…not just for my gift" you continued, in a soft voice, slightly embarrassed for saying such sentimental things "I've never had a friend so close or that I cared so much about before I met you…you know that it's hard for me to create bonds and such, normally I distance myself from people but, I never felt that need when I'm with you…" Your words made him smile, caressing your arm
"Thank you…I'm glad to know that. I'm also happy to be able to have you in my life. I've never had a best friend before either so it's nice that we complete each other so well…" What he said left you thinking and your chest jumped slightly without fully knowing the reason. You looked in detail at his arm around your shoulders and how close you both were, managing to make you nervous and feeling how your face burned, reminding you of all the times you thought how attractive your best friend is but forcing you to distract yourself with something else. "Yes… you understand me so well that sometimes I still can't believe it. I'm sorry if I say weird things, but you really make me very happy" you said smiling "a long time ago I felt bad and I thought a lot about things that worried me but every time I spend more time with you that anguish goes away…" "And what is it that worries you?" he asked, wanting to know more about you to be able to help you
"It's silly, but… I thought a lot about the consequences of my difficulty to be with people. Sometimes I imagined dying alone or things like that" you laughed embarrassed. Although you were referring more to a couple's company, Kenji had managed to calm the anxiety you had anyway, but you never thought about him seeing you as something more. He is quite affectionate with you, but something more direct would have had to happen for you to realize what he feels for you. "Come on, don't think about it. No matter how far away we are, busy or tired, I'll always be with you, okay? For whatever you need…" "Me too…" you told him, smiling. Kenji pulled you closer to him and both of you were in a soft hug that made your heartbeats and his accelerate.
The moment you let your face rest on his chest and felt yourself surrounded by his hands, an inexplicable warmth flooded your entire being, making you sigh and for some reason stirring up the feelings until you wanted to cry, but not from sadness. You knew that if you were with him everything would always be okay and you wanted to prolong that for as long as possible. Even your whole life, if there was any chance. “You mean so much to me,” he told you, in a low voice near your ear. “You do too, everything, actually.” You answered, putting a smile on his lips and butterflies in his stomach.
The conversation between the two of you changed to more random topics and some jokes between you. However, the way your eyes sparkled when you saw him was different, as if this tender and sincere moment had helped you realize what he truly makes you feel. As the night progressed, you both decided to return to your room, to say good night and rest. You went to bed, the sheets were really comfortable and the softness of the pillows and mattress was unique but despite that you couldn't manage to fall asleep even if you tried. You could feel the weight on your head of having unlocked millions of repressed feelings and thoughts freeing themselves inside you, not knowing what to do or how to act in this new situation. You were lying on the bed, you turned around to get comfortable and you saw him asleep, in the bed in front of you on the other side of the room.
The light was dim coming in through the window but enough for you to appreciate the features of his face perfectly. Did he always have the habit of sleeping without a shirt or did he do it on purpose? You were afraid that he could hear your thoughts as they were so loud inside your head. Eventually you fell asleep, thinking about him. The next day you felt strange, but not in an unpleasant way but as if you felt more nervous, always thinking, do I look pretty? looking at him from time to time with the excuse of seeing something about him, whether or not he had his sunglasses on or what color shirt he was wearing. When he caught you looking at him he smiled at you making you feel embarrassed, using the poor quality of your sunscreen as an excuse in case he happened to notice the blush on your cheeks more than once.
When you both spent some time in the pool it was much worse, you felt the need to see him but acting normal got in the way of your goals. You wanted to hug him and somehow be able to hold his hand so that everyone who saw you together would assume you were a couple. He is open-minded, would he see it as something strange if you dared to do it? Your heart jumped in doubt but again, you decided to let it go for fear of having a moment of embarrassment in front of him. The sunset was beginning to paint the environment a soft pink, he helped you pack your things and carry your suitcases to the car to return to the city. A slight nostalgia filled your chest at having to leave this place, where you had experienced something beautiful with him. A small idea of being able to visit it again and fulfill your wish of walking together hand in hand this time crossed your mind before getting into the car.
The clouds were getting darker on the way, touches of lilac and blue in the sky by the time he was at the entrance of your house opening the car door for you to get out and then the trunk to give you your things. You watched him greet your parents in the living room of your house, both excited to see you two return happily, thanking him for how attentive and thoughtful he was with you always. Seeing the interaction with your family gave you a strong desire to imagine their reactions to the news of you two being a formal couple, that that idea would come to stay in reality but your bubble burst when he suddenly hugged you and said goodbye to you to go back to his house, leaving you with a bittersweet smile on your face, thanking him again for everything he did for you.
And once again you were in your room, staring at the ceiling unable to sleep and when you turned to the side you couldn't see his face like the night before. That your sight collided only with your things in their usual place felt heavy on your chest. What if I tell him? You thought, afraid of ruining your friendship you hid under a stupid excuse of telling him as a way to vent how you felt to someone you trusted instead of a direct confession of your love for him, hoping that deep down you would reciprocate. You thought about this throughout the day as you recognized affectionate gestures from him towards you that left you thinking. The need was felt in each of your heartbeats hoping to be able to talk to him properly tomorrow but time seemed eternal.
You threw the covers off of you and changed your clothes, grabbing a coat and your car keys before leaving the house, to start the vehicle and drive to his house which by the way, was incredibly far from yours, which was an immense relief to see it in the distance as you began to approach until you went up and parked in his driveway. You called him when you got out of the car, expecting him to answer his phone, but when you got to the door, he was already there, having been notified by Mina that you were parking in his driveway. Things unrelated to what was going through your head made him wonder why you were here. Did you forget something in his car? Or did he pack his stuff in your suitcase by mistake? Maybe an emergency had come up? He hoped not. It was almost 11 pm, he usually stays up late sometimes, but he was surprised that you had come here instead of calling or texting him.
“Hey, what’s going on? Is everything okay?” He asked. You quickly said yes, even stopping him from letting you in before you spoke, so as not to lose the momentum that made you come here now.
"Kenji, I… you should know something" your words made him tense but he didn't take his gaze and attention off of you, nervous about what you might say. "These days I realized something extremely important and maybe you'll think it may be stupid or too soon but believe me I've never felt so sure of something, what I want… I know what I want…"
"And what do you want?" he asked, waiting for your answer, with his pulse racing as you approached him.
"You" you said without thinking, maybe deep down regretting having been so direct but it was all or nothing. "I love you Kenji… more than you think, more than just my best friend…"
He was speechless, looking at you in amazement and unable to believe it, he didn't think something so good could happen to him, something he had dreamed of so many times until he found it as something meaningless incapable of coming true. "Of course it's not stupid at all" he told you, approaching you. "Because I feel the same way about you…" you didn’t see his answer coming, his declaration, you felt yourself melting when he took your face with both hands. Your eyes were moistened by so many emotions. "I’ve always felt this way, you’re everything I want, everything I never thought I needed so much. And suddenly it’s been almost two years since I realized how much I’ve been loving you, afraid of ruining things…"
"Two years?" you asked him, with amazement in your voice. You felt like you were almost going crazy these days without being able to show him your affection completely. You couldn’t imagine how frustrating it was for him to keep everything he felt for so long.
"Kenji…" You took his face and caressed it, the distance between you both shortened more and more and without realizing it you let your lips find his to join in a kiss. It was what you had both wanted so much, you could feel all his love and you just hoped that you weren’t too nervous to not be able to show it too.
His lips were warm and soft, his heart leapt with happiness at being able to live this moment after so much, happy to be able to express himself without fear and amazed to receive your confession first in an unexpected way. "I love you, I love you so much…" he answered, kissing your forehead while you kept his hands on your face, taking them carefully.
Now you agreed to go to his house, having too many things to talk about, but now that you could hug him and hold his hand it would be easier for both of you.
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joequiinn · 3 months
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 9
[chap eight] | [all chapters here] | [chap ten]
Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Me?? Taking another unexpected writing hiatus?? Never. But forreal, you all know how life gets. So, as a treat here's a longer chapter (that may or may not be a bit rambly) to make up for my absence. As I wrote, this just kept going and going, so I hope you all enjoy the extra few thousand words lmao
wc: 8.6k
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Chapter Nine
The rest of Monday was absolute shit following your fight with Eddie. After spending the entirety of lunch break hiding out under the bleachers in an attempt to pull yourself together, facing your peers for the rest of the day was the last thing you wanted. The trek to your fifth period class was like some walk of shame, as if you were wearing some damned scarlet letter; it felt as if the entire school was watching you, waiting to see if you’d make yourself look like an idiot again or if you’d erupt. You had never felt so scrutinized before, so susceptible to judgment, but you fought tooth and nail not to give people the reaction they were hoping for.
The next day wasn’t any better. Once again, you felt the weight of everyone’s attention, you felt the pressure of all their judgment. Was this how it felt to be in Eddie’s shoes, how it felt to be a total social outcast? It was even shittier than you could have predicted, and you found yourself questioning the stupid little plan you and Eddie had been hatching that led to this.
It only grew worse as the day went on. Third period was arguably the most frustrating - you were stuck sitting next to Eddie for a whole damn hour, and he didn’t speak a single word to you. You didn’t even think it was possible for that boy to go quiet for longer than a few minutes, yet he proved you wrong, keeping his mouth zipped tight and his eyes on anything but you. Being ignored by Eddie caused your anger to flare, and if you had less self control you would’ve said something about it, would’ve given him a piece of your mind, but your frustrations had kept you, too, surprisingly silent. Or maybe it was the fear of looking stupid again.
Wednesday continued much the same way, although you felt less frustrated by everyone’s critical glances and Eddie’s willful ignorance of your existence. You thought maybe you were starting to get your shit together, that you had finally combatted all your pent up emotions and pushed them all the way down to the pit of your heart, where you'd just ignore them like you did with any challenging feelings. Hell, you were even beginning to fool yourself into thinking that you were feeling better, though deep down you knew that wasn’t true.
The worst that the week had to offer came during lunch that day, though, when you foolishly tried to approach Duncan and demand to know what the hell his deal was. You thought you had pulled yourself together well enough - you spoke with a sharp tone and a cool demeanor, but he and his gang of friends simply mocked your attempts at an argument. They did everything they could to make you feel small, but you kept it together, retreating from their harsh words with all the poise you could muster, hoping that your anger wasn’t too obvious. Their laughter and whispers wouldn't get to you, or at least you'd never show it - the whole school already saw you vulnerable once, it was not about to happen again.
 Consider your reputation officially fucking ruined. 
The thing that hurt more than any of their insults and derogatory words, however, was the look on Eddie’s face as you two met eyes across the lunch room, the way he watched you as you tried to march away from Duncan with your pride still intact. Eddie had been witness to the entire shitty interaction, you realized as you kept your eyes locked on his; the worry and concern so clear on his face caused a crack in your otherwise icy exterior, and you had to rip your gaze away so he couldn't see the hurt in your expression. You nearly broke down the very moment you were out of the cafeteria, the look on Eddie’s face burned into your mind.
The rest of the day was a fucking blur, and you were so emotionally worked up that you were grateful to leave school and go to the one place that could normally calm you down - the ice rink. Wednesday was always your skating day, and today you felt like you needed it more desperately than usual, thankful to spend a few hours on the ice after school. In all your moments of frustration, skating always did wonders to even you out, reminding you why you still enjoyed it after all these years - it helped calm your nerves, clear your head, and relax your heart. It helped to de-escalate your emotions, to make you think straight, and after how hard the past couple of days were, you desperately needed that.
Your anger at Duncan was still burning hot as ever, and even as you slowly relaxed you were still desperate to get back at him, not above stooping to his level. You’d have to corner him when he was alone, without his posse to back him up - then you could really hurt him with your scathing words. You also couldn’t help but wonder just how involved Amelia and Janet were in all this shit - if anything, this stunt was Amelia’s idea, but Janet? She couldn’t have been this cold and heartless; or maybe you just desperately hoped she wasn't.
As you looped around the ice far less elegantly than you normally would, you tried your damnedest not to think about Eddie, as if ignoring the thought of him would somehow remove you from fault. Now that you’ve actually had time to think about it, you knew you’d been mean to him just for the sake of it, just to let your frustrations out on someone. A younger you wouldn't have cared that you mistreated someone, would've just waved it off like a brat and moved on with your life. Hell, only a few months ago, you probably would've still found it comical to talk down to someone like Eddie the way that you did.
But you were not that girl anymore, although you also weren't emotionally ready to acknowledge that Eddie didn’t deserve your vitriol; after all, you were mean to just about everyone, what made him any different? You knew that you’d treated him badly simply because it was easy, because he was the only person there and you needed to let it out. The less prideful part of you knew that you were wrong for that, but that side of you had thus far been outweighed by your own stubbornness. Now, however, you were starting to think maybe you needed to do something about it.
On the one hand, you considered that you had no obligation to make things right with Eddie, and yet, something about that upset you. Were you really so terrible and bitchy that you’d avoid apologizing to him? Were you going to simply ignore him, if not treat him even worse than you’d already had been? That’s certainly something you would have done in the past, but somehow Eddie fucking Munson had made you a little less harsh than you once were.
No, you didn’t need to make this right, but you wanted to. Somehow, Eddie had undeniably grown on you, and at this rate he was virtually the only person you had on your side (that is, of course, if you don’t take into account his ignoring you the past two days). If anyone had even suggested a month ago that you’d be getting along so well with Eddie Munson, you probably would have gagged. What could you and a guy like him possibly have in common, what could you two possibly bond over? These were questions that you were still seeking answers to, even as you drove home after hours of skating at the rink.
Perhaps it was your sense of humor, so much more aligned with his than either of you had expected. Or maybe it was the effortlessness with which you could talk to one another, like you’d already known each other far longer than a few weeks. Hell, maybe it was that Eddie challenged you without even being mean about it, how he so simply gave you new perspectives to take into account and made you reconsider things you thought you knew.
It was strange to realize that, in your own way, you two had become almost-friends quite rapidly. Was that normal? Did other people feel so at ease with someone they’d known for only a few short weeks? You couldn’t remember what it was like when you became friends with Amelia or Janet or anyone else that ran in your former circle - had you bonded with them just as easily as you had with Eddie? Something in you suspected no.
But you tried to avoid thinking about that too much, because you certainly weren’t going to dig into it any deeper.
As you walked through the front door of your home, the silence of the house confirmed to you that your father was still, supposedly, at work. The only time you heard the buzz of electronics throughout the house was when he was around, because your mom never left a television or radio on unnecessarily. You’d bet that she was probably in the kitchen with the radio down low, just a bit of background noise to keep her company as she prepped for dinner. Or maybe she was on the phone in the home office, chatting away with one of her friends about the latest gossip in town.
You hated to admit it, but you and your mom were both used to your father not being around often - most days, he was gone before you left for school and didn’t return home until well into the evening. This had been the family’s routine for years now, so your father’s lack of interest in spending time at home no longer phased you. His absence was just as routine as your school schedule or your mom’s biweekly nail appointments.
You found it far more surprising when he was around - in fact, it almost dared to make you suspicious of him. Because you figured he never seemed interested in spending time with you or your mom, you couldn’t help but speculate what would prompt him to suddenly spend every night at the dinner table for a couple weeks, or to even suggest the family go out together on the weekend. You assumed it was some form of guilt - for a while now, you had yourself convinced that he was having an affair, so perhaps his brief bouts of attentiveness were his measly efforts to reconcile his infidelity with himself.
Of course, you’d never dare even imply this suspicion to your mother, for all you knew it could send her spiraling. And a part of you was convinced that perhaps she’d had her suspicions as well.
As you closed the front door behind you and slid out of your sneakers, you had every intention of running off to your room to avoid your mom entirely. After the week you’d had thus far, you’d rather be left alone, you didn’t want to get caught up in her usual superficial conversations. But before you could even take a step towards the staircase, your mom zipped out of the kitchen towards you, an eager shine in her eyes that almost made her appear younger. You gave her a quizzical look, taking a step back as she got just a little closer than you cared for; even with your parents, you preferred people stay at arm’s length.
“How was your day, hon?” She asked as if in anticipation of something. Your face twisted with even more confusion - what the hell was she so excited about? Was she really that oblivious to the funk you’d been in the past three days?
You stepped around your mom, intending to end this conversation quickly so you could disappear to your room. Your tone was dismissive as you replied coldly, “Not great.”
Her joy seemed to falter a little as she followed just a step behind you; clearly, whatever she wanted to talk about seemed to be important to her, “What do you mean?”
You paused to look back at her again, your agitation clear on your face as you studied her. You weren’t certain, but it seemed as if she were expecting a different response - a particular response. What exactly was she fishing for?
“Today sucked. Just like the rest of this shitty week.” Your tone was cold as you raised your brow, hoping that your attitude may deter her from asking anymore questions. Your callous word choice caused her to pull a face, studying your expression as if she were seeing you for the first time in a long time. For a moment, you thought maybe she’d actually act like your mother, you thought maybe she’d ask you what was wrong and offer a shoulder to cry on.
“I figured it’d be good,” she started with concern in her voice, putting on something of an encouraging smile, “considering the assembly on Monday.”
Dread immediately washed over you, her words causing your heart to drop into your stomach - how did she know about the assembly? The school wouldn’t have called the parents about it, they didn’t care that much. Maybe one of her friends had heard from their kid and then told her? Possibly, but not the most likely. So, how did she know?
All you could do was stare for a few tense moments, fighting to keep in all the feelings you’d just worked through on the ice rink. Your jaw tightened as you swallowed hard, attempting to quiet your mind and take a deep breath. Your intense eyes burned into your mother, who seemed to recognize that what she’d just said may have been a mistake.
“How do you know about that?” You probed with an edge to your voice, feeling as if all your emotions were going to come spilling out of you at any minute.
Although she appeared hesitant, your mom kept her composure, persisting to act bright in the foolish hopes that it would help you relax, “Amelia called while you were out.”
If your heart could drop any further, it would have. You began to feel almost out of body as you started to piece it all together, already realizing Amelia’s fucking game. She knew you wouldn’t have mentioned your dissolved friendship to your mother because of your distant relationship with your parents, and now she was using it against you. To what end? Simply to torment you more?
Receiving no response from you, your mother smiled encouragingly, still trying her hardest to keep things chipper as she continued, “She wanted to know if I’d like to be a chaperone for homecoming. She seemed so excited that both of you were nominated for homecoming queen!”
Your jaw clenched in anger, eyes growing harsher as they burnt into your mother. You had no reason to be mad at her, but at that moment your rage was coming back up, clawing its way out of you. It took everything in your power not to shout expletives in her face.
So, you turned away from her, trying to collect yourself by taking a few deep breaths. From over your shoulder, your mom continued, trying in vain to understand what was going on with you, “Honey, what’s wrong? This should be exciting news.”
You whipped around angrily, but bit your tongue as you two stared at one another, you in vexation and your mom in concern. You took one more deep breath while rolling your eyes, looking away again.
“Did Amelia tell you who I was nominated with? Or that we haven’t spoken a word to each other in nearly two weeks?” As your frustration bubbled, you met her eyes again, “Or that I was only nominated as some shitty prank? Did she mention that I ran out of the gym like a fucking coward because of how humiliated I felt?”
Your mother’s face was awash with concern as she looked between your eyes, and for a moment you really did think she’d comfort you, in fact, you were almost hoping for it. But that was quickly squashed, “Will you please watch your language? You don’t have to get so worked up.”
The upset on your face only increased - despite everything else you said, your language was the thing that concerned her most? You scoffed with frustration, shaking your head in disbelief as you all but shoved past her, keeping your wild eyes away from hers.
“You don’t even care!” You said venomously, stomping back towards your belongings left by the front door. Haphazardly, you shoved your feet into your shoes and dug around for your keys, “I’m not good right now, mom, and all you’re worried about is my fucking language! Do you care how I’m feeling?”
With a flustered look, your mom approached you, “Of course I care, but I can’t even understand you anymore! You’ve been so different recently, so much more distant. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you won’t tell me?”
You simply shook your head, throwing your bag back on your shoulder once you had your keys. As you swung open the front door, it bounced off the wall, causing your mother to gasp at the aggressive act.
“Where are you going!?” She insisted while following you outside. You didn’t dare look back, marching towards your car as your anger continued to bubble over.
“Anywhere but here!” As you whipped around to the driver side door, you finally looked at your mother, who lingered on the front steps with a disappointed and confused expression. You were sure you looked absolutely wild and irate as you flung open the car door, carelessly tossing your bag inside and holding your mother’s gaze.
You could see that she was trying to make sense of the chaos happening right now, trying her best to keep it together as if that would calm you down now after everything that just happened. She wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so emotional and out of control - she’d seen you angrier these past couple weeks than you’d been your entire fucking life.
“Please just come back inside.” She tried earnestly, but you were too far gone to hear any of it. You ripped your gaze from hers and slammed the car door once you were settled into the seat, zipping out of the driveway fast enough that you nearly hit the mailbox.
You didn’t make it far, though, having to pull over only a minute later because you realized you were on the verge of crying. Fuck, when was the last time that had happened? You were never the type to get emotional like this, but shit, you’d had a stressful week. You had to catch your breath, to hold back your tears of anger, slamming your fists on the steering wheel a few times as if that could make everything better. You didn’t dare let a single tear roll down your face, but they were so welled up in your eyes that you could barely see, forcing you to blink and wipe them away.
What the hell were you doing? Where did you expect to go? These melodramatics felt fucking ridiculous, and you tried to convince yourself you were freaking out over nothing, although your emotions were clearly telling you otherwise. You couldn’t keep acting like this, you wouldn’t allow it - it wasn’t you, and it made you feel weak.
But shit, you felt like your world had been crashing down around you all week, and it was impossible to keep it together right now. So, you pounded your fists against the dashboard, hissing foul words while continuing to fight back everything that was swirling in your chest. You were certain that if any of your neighbors walked by your haphazardly parked car, they’d think you were having a total mental break. And maybe you were; fuck if you knew. You weren’t exactly thinking clearly right now.
After what felt like an eternity, you’d exhausted all your rage, dejectedly catching your breath and attempting to regain your composure. Shit, what were you going to do now? There’s no way in hell you’d go back home - you weren’t ready to deal with your mother again so soon. Or worse, your father, whose temper would simply set you off again.
As you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you couldn’t help but think of your fight with Eddie, and without any hesitation you accepted that right now you missed him. If you weren't so emotional, you'd have stopped to consider how strange that was. Maybe the past few days wouldn’t have been such shit if you’d just been nicer to him; maybe this was karma at work, making you miserable for how you treated him.
You had to apologize to Eddie. Right fucking now.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
As you drove through Forest Hills, you realized you’d never once set foot in a trailer park before. Looking out your windshield at the dark street, you were certain that one trailer home would maybe fill only two bedrooms of your own home. How people lived in such close quarters was something you couldn’t even comprehend, and on a normal night maybe you would’ve lingered on that thought. But considering that you came here on a mission, you were unable to become distracted; no, the anxiety that was rapidly growing in your chest kept you laser focused on the task you set out on.
It wasn’t until you reached this side of Hawkins that your fear began to mount - should you really be showing up to Eddie’s place unannounced? Is this terrible timing? What if his uncle was home? The further into Forest Hills you drove, the more worried you became. For all you knew, Eddie would slam the door in your face, tell you to fuck off and leave him alone. And after all the shit you’d dealt with this week, you couldn’t handle any more rejection.
Maybe you should just turn around and get out of here while you still have the chance.
But as that thought crossed your mind, you spotted Eddie’s van in front of one of the trailers, and your heart rate sped up to a frankly concerning pace. Shit, it was now or never. Turn back around and head home or face Eddie and his possible rejection. Frankly, both options sounded fucking awful.
For a few long moments, you simply lingered on the road, staring at Eddie’s trailer as your heart drummed in your chest; your eyes roved over the illuminated windows, half expecting to see Eddie’s silhouette appear in one of them any second now. But when no visual indicator of him appeared, you shook yourself back to the present, pulling up alongside his van with the brief thought that maybe he saw your headlights. You hesitated at that, waiting yet again to see if he’d appear in the window or at the door. Fuck, if you were going to be this nervous, you might as well just get out of here.
But you knew you couldn’t do that. You knew you had to talk to Eddie again, you had to have at least one decent relationship in your life right now. Considering that he was the closest thing you had to a friend at the moment, you had to make amends with him. Not that Eddie owed you any forgiveness, of course - again, the fear that he’d want nothing to do with you came creeping back up, even as you pulled the keys from the ignition and slowly stepped out of the car.
Fuck, what were you going to do if Eddie didn’t want to talk? You didn’t think you could manage to survive the rest of the week if he didn’t forgive you. Despite trying to ignore the thought, in a way you realized that right now you needed Eddie.
This shit better work.
You felt almost shaky as you approached the front door, hearing thrashing metal music reverberating inside the trailer. You had to take another pause at the door to collect yourself - you were not nervous like this, and you refused to appear this nervous in front of anyone. You were here to apologize, not to be vulnerable. So, you pulled yourself together with a few deep breaths, marching up to the door and knocking strongly before you could think to hesitate any longer. Considering how loud the music was, you realized Eddie probably didn't hear you, so you roughly pounded your fist against the door once again. You put on a brave face, taking one more deep breath as the music quieted and someone approached the door.
Of course, once you and Eddie locked eyes, you suddenly froze. All the things you’d rehearsed on the way over here momentarily left your head as you took in his surprised expression, the look in his eyes that suggested you were the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. For what felt like hours, the two of you stared at one another as you attempted to collect your thoughts, attempted to keep all your hurt from showing on your face.
You eventually had to rip your eyes away from Eddie, maybe then you could finally find your voice again. As you stared at his feet, you straightened out your back and clenched your jaw, trying to quiet your mind and get out at least one coherent thought. With a deep breath, you flicked your gaze back to his face.
“Can we talk?” Your voice came out strong, if not a little cold - good, at least you didn’t sound as weak as you’d been feeling recently.
Eddie’s expression was still a little taken aback, even as he tried to put on a calm, collected air. Had you not caught him so off guard, perhaps you would’ve been fooled by the lazy smirk he gave you or his seemingly relaxed posture. But given the look of near astonishment that was on his face only a moment prior, you knew he was probably just as unprepared for this conversation as you were.
“Well, since you drove all the way here…” Eddie trailed off in what was meant to be a casual tone, stepping to the side and nodding his head towards the trailer behind him. You looked between his eyes and the entryway for a moment before stepping up into his home, immediately taking it all in attentively - it was easier to focus on your surroundings than to focus on him and your emotions.
You weren’t sure what you had expected of Eddie’s home, but as you stood in his small living room, everything appeared exactly as it should have - the place was cozy, decorated with items that were clearly personal, reflecting the taste of someone so unlike your own family. Back in your own home, the art on the wall was perfectly curated by your mother, the only photos being staged family portraits; the furniture was also meticulously decided on, meant to look cohesive and clean and modern.
Here in the Munson trailer, the space actually felt lived in - the coffee table was stacked with car magazines and western paperbacks, the walls adorned with collections of hats and mugs. The furniture was worn from years of use, the kitchen was cluttered, a fold out bed was pushed off to one side - yes, this home actually had life to it, unlike the stale living environment you were so used to. Without having met the man, you already had a strong sense of Eddie’s uncle just by looking around the place.
The more you looked at the Munson home, the more your curiosity grew - you wanted to ask more about Eddie and his uncle and all the little details that made them a family. But before you could get to know any more about Eddie, first you had to actually make things right with him. So, you turned your attention back to him, briefly catching the self-conscious look on his face that he very quickly corrected - did he feel judged, having you in his home like this? Was he worried what you’d think now that you had this more intimate glimpse at his life?
The two of you stared at one another for a few long moments; Eddie was clearly anticipating what you’d say next, and you were still trying to decide where exactly to start. You raised a brow as you let out a breath, forcing yourself to look away again so you could actually speak - looking Eddie in the eye like this made it harder to apologize.
“I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You started, letting your gaze continue to roam over trinkets and decor in the living room. Off to your side, you heard Eddie hum in acknowledgement instead of saying anything, which seemed to be your cue to continue. You sighed a little, forcing yourself to be honest, hard as it may be; your voice was a touch quieter as you added, “You didn’t deserve that shit.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eddie responded with a hint of harshness to his tone, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t sound nearly as mad as you’d expected. You slowly spun around, looking anywhere but his direction so your words would come more easily.
“I… like having you around.” The sentence sounded juvenile to your ears, but you simply continued, “I know all I wanted was to stir shit up and be left alone, but the past couple days--”
You had to cut yourself off, suddenly feeling a sadness well up in your throat - you were not about to break, not right now, not in front of Eddie. So, you swallowed hard and tried to calm down before he could see the chink in your armor.
“Not so fun being on the other side of things, huh?” Eddie chimed in, saving you from yourself with his comment. You turned to him with a nod, hoping your eyes didn’t give too much away.
“Fucking sucks, actually.” You managed a small, sad smile. It looked as if Eddie, too, wanted to mirror the expression, but he kept it to himself. You took in his posture, his crossed arms and guarded look, hoping that you were getting through to him.
You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting down to the floor as you struggled to find your words. God, being sincere shouldn’t be so damn hard, but you were never one to admit your faults, never the type to open up easily. Despite your usual confidence and brashness, you couldn’t even seem to form proper sentences right now.
“I forgive you.” Those three simple words drew a surprised look from you, to which Eddie shrugged as he continued, looking away with a coolness that surely had to be for show, “Your apology could use some work, seeing as you couldn’t even say ‘sorry,’ but you were forgiven the second I opened that door.”
That last statement was shockingly honest and somehow a touch too vulnerable for your liking - it made you nervous, and you couldn’t say why. Was Eddie just being hyperbolic, saying that to make you feel better? Or was it the truth, could he have possibly been willing to forgive you just like that simply because you showed up on his doorstep? Both of those ideas made you apprehensive in vastly different ways.
With a quick shake of your head, you tried to pull yourself together, straightening your shoulders and wiping the vulnerable look from your face. You met Eddie’s kind eyes with as much coolness as you could muster, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you were relieved with how this conversation had gone. There was a glint of amusement in Eddie’s face as he watched you, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head, as if he knew your calm demeanor was all for show.
Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “So long as you don’t drag me to that stupid homecoming, we’ll be alright.”
You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the suggestion, thankful that Eddie made the effort to break the tension in the room - you were done trying to be vulnerable, and it seemed that he could sense that, too.
“As if I’d let myself be the Carrie White of their shitty joke.” You gave Eddie a playful glance, catching the way his brow furrowed.
“Carrie, huh?”
You also gave him a look, “Yeah, you know - telekinetic chick who killed everyone at prom?”
The smile that graced Eddie’s lips was nearly infectious as he laughed with a shake of his head, “Oh, I know Carrie, I’m just surprised that you do - you don’t seem the horror type.”
You cross your arms teasingly - it was so easy to fall back into this pattern with Eddie, easy to bounce off each other. Admittedly, you missed it.
“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter with a small smirk, to which Eddie gave you a challenging look.
“Well, it would help if you opened up a little more, princess.” The nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue with ease, and it was a relief to hear it - that had to mean you really were forgiven, that he hadn't just said so to make you feel better. Even still, you narrowed your eyes, prompting Eddie to continue in his defense, “I know nothing about your hobbies, but you know practically all of mine.”
You looked him up and down once, “You know that I skate.”
Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, although he sounded deathly serious as he said, “There’s clearly more to you than that.”
The sincerity in Eddie’s tone juxtaposed his playful look, giving you pause, making you nervous. You answered simply and with a dismissive shrug, hoping it didn't lead into some deeper conversation, “Guess that makes you the first person to notice.”
You turned away from Eddie to continue looking around, taking in the room as you debated whether or not you’d elaborate on your interests. Considering that Eddie made a good point about not knowing you well, you caved - after all, did you want him as a friend or not?
“I love horror movies.” You take a few steps towards a shelf filled with videos and cassettes, your eyes slowly looking over the titles, “Books, too, but the movies are way scarier, so they’re more fun.”
A few familiar horror titles sat on the shelf, causing you to grin and glance back at Eddie, who seemed to be watching you attentively. Realizing he was caught staring, he quickly righted himself and met your gaze, his curious smile growing. You could see in his face that questions were forming, that he probably wanted to ask what you liked about horror or what movie was your favorite. Expectantly, you turned to face him with an eager raise of your brow.
Eddie looked between your eyes for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say first, finally nudging his chin towards the VHS collection on the shelf, “You pick a movie, I’ll order us a pizza?”
You couldn’t help but be surprised at the suggestion - for two days you didn’t speak a word to each other, but again you were reminded of just how effortless it was to go back to the way things were. You smiled in appreciation for Eddie’s ability to make anything easy like this.
As much as you loved the idea, you hesitated, “It’s getting kinda late…”
Eddie waved it off before you could say anything else, “So? My uncle won’t be back for hours, and I don’t think either of us has anything better going on.”
So, you nodded, eagerly turning your attention back to the small collection of movies on the shelf - you wondered which ones were Eddie’s and which were his uncle’s. Quickly, you settled on a movie that you were excited to see there, grabbing it from the shelf and spinning to face Eddie as he dialed the nearest pizza place. You felt like an excited child as you held up Videodrome for him to see. Again, Eddie appeared surprised, but didn’t get the chance to comment as he was greeted by someone on the other end of the call. He probably wouldn’t have guessed Cronenberg to be your taste in horror.
With the pizza ordered and the movie loaded into the VCR, you and Eddie settled on opposite ends of the couch. Within a minute of the movie starting, however, you couldn’t help yourself as you began to eagerly go on and on about how technically impressive the effects in this movie were. You weren’t sure how long you went on for, but after a while you realized you were going on a tangent, cutting yourself off as you looked at Eddie for the inevitable judgment to come. You’d grown used to your friends rolling their eyes or your mom telling you to stop talking about disgusting horror movies, but Eddie looked so… attentive? So interested to listen to what you were saying?
You looked back at the screen almost sheepishly, but you could still feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes watching you.
“You’re kind of a nerd.” He said with far too much glee, causing you to whip your mean gaze back to him; Eddie was smiling from ear-to-ear, clearly pleased with himself and his discovery of your hidden interest.
“I am not.” You scoff, trying not to grin back at him. Eddie leaned across the couch as if to emphasize his taunting, his eyes challenging as he stared at you.
“You just spent five minutes talking about how much you love to watch a fake head blow up - seems kinda nerdy.”
It felt as if no rift had ever formed between you two, as if you hadn’t just been awkwardly trying to apologize to him some fifteen minutes ago. Eddie just made it ridiculously easy to relax, to forget all the bullshit from the past few days.
You gave Eddie’s shoulder a playful shove, so he sat back up in his seat, that wicked grin still on his face, “What, don’t want to be lumped in with the rest of us?”
Despite trying to give Eddie a threatening look, you knew your eyes were betraying you - all of the menace in your expression was destroyed by the way your eyes blatantly shone with amusement. You had to look away again, otherwise you feared you might laugh.
“Liking horror doesn’t make me a nerd.” You insisted.
“No, but considering you made a whole speech about how impactful Cronenberg’s use of gore is, I wouldn’t call you a casual fan.” Eddie teased, and even without looking you knew just how big his grin was.
So, you kept your eyes trained on the screen, hoping to become absorbed in the movie as you tried to ignore the way Eddie was studying you. And it worked for at least a few minutes - you began to smile at the familiar film, attentively following the story development, all the while slowly forgetting about the eyes practically burning a hole in your skull.
But in his typical fashion, Eddie couldn’t stay quiet for too long.
“Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?”
Without missing a beat, you looked back at Eddie, unable to hold your tongue on the debate. Your tone was perhaps a little snobby as you answered, “Michael, obviously.”
Again, Eddie grinned largely with a challenge in his eye, “‘Obviously?’”
Of course, you knew what he was doing - he was clearly trying to poke at you, but damn it, it was working. You couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about movie slashers to a captive audience, even if said audience was likely going to keep egging you on.
You rolled your eyes, folding your legs up on the couch as you turned your body towards Eddie, “Jason isn’t scary.”
“Not scary? He and Michael are basically the same guy.” You pulled a face at the comment, noticing that Eddie seemed pleased with himself for getting you going on the subject.
“And I guess you think they’re also just like Bubba?” Eddie grinned wickedly, so you quickly reached over to smack his shoulder, “Don’t you dare say it.”
“Say what?”
You narrowed your eyes, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to debate your point. You took a deep breath before looking back towards the movie, “Michael is better, end of conversation.”
“I’m more of a Freddy guy myself.” Eddie taunts, clearly not done tormenting you. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of a response, trying to keep your attention on the movie instead. A minute later, Eddie chimed up again, “The Exorcist or the Omen?”
To that, you didn’t have as quick an answer, mulling it over for a moment before replying - when you answered with the Exorcist, Eddie couldn’t help but say that response was predictable.
So, it led you down the rabbit hole, Videodrome being totally forgotten in favor of debating your horror opinions. For every answer to Eddie’s questions, he had a counterargument - it didn’t matter whether or not you two agreed on something, he clearly just wanted to get you riled up. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you get excited about something, maybe he enjoyed the way you’d argue your case on characters you loved and hated.
When the pizza arrived, you raced Eddie to the door, paying for the food despite his protests, the pair of you clearly annoying the delivery driver who didn’t give a shit where the money came from so long as he got it. All through your meal, you two continued talking over the movie, which eventually reached its end and prompted Eddie to start playing another that you also wouldn’t pay any attention to.
As the night wore on, your debates eventually died down; your seat on the couch became increasingly more comfortable, and the shitty horror movie you had on was beginning to lull you to sleep. Considering how long your day - no, your whole week - had been, you were surprised it took this long for your exhaustion to set in. So, you slowly settled into the couch, progressively slumping into the cushions.
Seeing the tired look on your face, Eddie nudged you and insisted you lie down, and you were tired enough not to argue, resting on your side so you can continue watching the movie. You keep your legs curled up to avoid getting in Eddie’s space, but nonetheless your knees rest comfortable against his thigh. At some point between half awake and half asleep, you thought that maybe you felt his hand resting comfortably on your leg, but you were too tired to say for sure.
As the night wore on, you must have inevitably fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, you were being pulled out of a dream, a hand gently shaking your shoulder and Eddie’s far off voice encouraging you to wake up. You figured at first that the voice was just a part of your dream, but as the tone grew more clear and insistent, you were brought back to reality. Groggily, you blinked your eyes open with a confused glare - how long had you been out for? And what time was it?
Catching your eyes with his, the corner of Eddie’s mouth pulled back in a small grin, “Jesus, you sleep like the dead.”
A tired moan rumbled in your throat as your eyes narrowed. You tried to roll onto your other side as if you could somehow avoid Eddie that way, your words nonthreatening and heavy with sleep, “Fuck off…”
As Eddie sighed with annoyance, an unfamiliar huff of a laugh met your ears, but you weren’t nearly awake enough to even wonder who it belonged to. Eddie pulled at your shoulder so you couldn’t turn away from him, to which you whined again.
“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch, it’ll ruin your back.” Eddie insisted, teasingly pulling at your arm - if you weren’t still half asleep, it wouldn’t have annoyed you nearly as much as it did, “Come on, get up.”
You opened your harsh eyes again, knowing Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to be ignored. As your eyes adjusted, his face slowly came into focus, his hair haloed by the light of the TV; kneeling beside you, he was clearly trying to hide the amusement he found in your sleepy attitude.
The two of you stared at one another for a long minute as the fog slowly lifted from your brain, making you more and more aware of your surroundings. Your gaze drifted away from Eddie, noticing movement in the corner of your eye; turning in the direction of it, you made eye contact with a man who had to have been Eddie’s uncle. He quickly turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the kitchen, as if that would give you and Eddie a measly sense of privacy.
With a deep yawn, you looked at Eddie again, begrudgingly accepting that you had to get up. You slowly rose into a seated position, your feet brushing Eddie’s leg as you moved to set them on the ground; he rose and took a step back to give you a little more space. Stretching your arms above your head and popping your neck, you looked between the two men, noticing that Eddie seemed to be somewhat sheepish, which made you curious. Was he embarrassed that this was how you and his uncle were meeting? Was it because he felt like you two were caught doing something wrong? Or was it something else entirely that influenced that expression on his face?
You sighed heavily as you rose to your feet, your face scrunching up a little as you looked around the room; your voice was still heavy with sleep as you asked, “What time is it? I have to go home.”
Eddie shook his head at the same moment that his uncle silently disappeared to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running drifting out from under the door; maybe he was trying to give you two a bit more privacy.
“You don’t have to go.” Eddie says in a surprisingly gentle tone, to which you furrow your brow, “It’s late and you're exhausted - just stay here tonight.”
You weakly tried to protest, although you were so tired that it was a relief to hear that Eddie wasn’t kicking you out in the wee hours of the morning, “I really shouldn’t.”
“You really should.” Eddie insisted, clearly not open to argument. Luckily for him, you accepted the response instantly, your head still too foggy to find a good enough reason to leave. So, you nod smally while trying to stifle another yawn.
Eddie points his hand in the direction of the bedroom, and you immediately accept the invitation, confidently heading that way as if you owned the damn place. You didn’t catch the tug of a smile that graced Eddie’s lips as he followed just a step behind you.
You entered the dark bedroom and all but collapsed onto the bed, hearing a slight laugh leave Eddie’s lips; at least he found it funny instead of rude, not that you were terribly concerned with that right now. No, the only thing on your mind at the moment was curling into the mattress and sleeping undisturbed for the rest of the night. You comfortably wrapped your arms around one of Eddie’s pillows, inhaling his lingering scent without considering what you were doing. 
“You gonna sleep in that?” Eddie teased, reminding you that you were still in the workout clothes that you wore for skating. Like a stubborn child unwilling to do a task, you grunted, sitting back up and trying to find Eddie in the dark. You caught his silhouette digging through what you assumed to be a pile of clothes, eventually pulling something out and tossing it in your direction. The t-shirt weakly hit you in the chest before falling into your lap, so you started to pull off your own soiled shirt, letting it fall forgotten somewhere on the floor.
Light still filtered into the room through the gap in the door, so you caught the way Eddie spun around to give you privacy just as you started to tug at your bra; you couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny as he pushed the door closed. After all, it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t see anything; and even if he could, it didn’t matter. Right?
Eddie kept himself preoccupied, returning his attention to the stack of clothes as you pulled his scratchy t-shirt over your head; thanks to the darkness of the room, you didn’t catch the way he glanced back at you curiously. Once you were comfortable, you lied back down and began to burrow in the blankets, pulling them over your head as you listened to Eddie strip out of his own clothes.
A few moments later, one of the blankets was being yanked from the bed; you greedily tried to grab it before it was gone, but to no avail, which prompted you to poke your head out from the cocoon you’d built. You couldn’t quite find Eddie in the dark, but you nonetheless furrowed your brow in the direction you figured he was in.
“What are you doing?” You questioned groggily as your eyes began to adjust; you could now make out Eddie’s shadow as he appeared to turn to you.
“Sleeping on the floor.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, nudging things aside with his foot before dropping the blanket to the ground. As he leaned over the bed to grab a pillow, you rolled your eyes and reached out to nudge him, making contact with bare skin before shuffling over to make room on the small bed.
“Like hell you are.” You attempted to snuggle into your new position, but seeing Eddie awkwardly lingering prompted you to reach over and give his arm a quick tug, “Get the fuck in the bed, Munson.”
Eddie hesitated a moment longer, and although he couldn’t see it, you stared at him in amused scrutiny. With a huff, you threw aside the blankets and hit the mattress once for emphasis, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous to share a bed with a girl.”
You readjusted to face away from Eddie, wrapping your arms around your pillow again and burying your face in it, getting cozy almost instantly. Behind you, he sighed before his weight shifted the mattress; just from the feel of his movements, you knew Eddie was awkwardly trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile at how stiff he was - at this rate, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.
“Stop worrying about it, Eddie.” You muttered gently, curling up in the blankets as if you were a cat lying in the sun. A big yawn escaped you as you felt Eddie shift a little, and you knew you’d be out like a light any minute now, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, you could still feel his body heat radiating near you. Smiling comfortably to yourself, you quickly began to doze off, barely catching Eddie’s whispered “Night, princess…” before you fell back into a deep sleep.
.
.
additional a/n: I couldn't keep these two apart for even an entire chapter, so I hope their lil reconciliation was worth the wait!
taglist: @3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson
@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220
@frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili
@miaajaade @mmmunson @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive
@rcailleachcola @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19
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bunji-enthusiast · 4 months
Note
Hello, can I request Yandere Thor, Odin Poseidon, and Hades from the record of Ragnarok, please? Those four are my favorite characters in the show.
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• Yanderes || Thor (couldn’t think of anything else for the other characters my apologies).
• CW || nothing major, general non-specific headcanons.
• note || absolutely!! It’s been a while since I wrote for this character so I’m a little rough. Thank you for sending in this request ♡︎
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- 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫
♥︎ Thor is unusually quiet, uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn’t his usual demeanor, yet, if not for Shiva’s watchful eyes. He never would’ve figured out the trepidation that lied between you and the thunder god. He wondered how this came to be, this unhealthy chains of a bond had borne.
♥︎ Thor casts off worry to the god of destruction, underlying despair as if he was waiting at any moment for something to be ripped away from the very foundation of his being. Shiva wonders what is happening between the both of you, those watchful eyes of yours alluring to each and every shadow, as if you were afraid and waiting for someone to come out of them. Shiva is wonderful when it came to relationships, he would like to think so, he was considered a very good husband by his wives after all. So he considers how he could be of help to the two of you. Shiva simply wonders what is wrong, you are a friend of his after all. He worries.
♥︎ This side to the thunder god had somewhat given Shiva surprise, he sneaks in, and around to check on you. He checks every corridor of Thor’s place of residence, he usually sees you here every time he comes by. ‘How odd’ He thinks to himself. It takes perhaps a considerable amount of time before he finally finds you, shouting your name across the hallways. Hearing audible shouts for help.
"Shiv-"
A cough, another one follows.
He was wide-eyed in surpise, even given pause in his steps before he continued forward to find the source of your voice. "Hey [Name]!" The destruction god shouts, stopping in his tracks once again to strain for your voice.
"Here! Please help me." He followed your plead without a second thought, finally finding where you found yourself in trouble. Shiva's second pair of arms open the door while his first pair had him scrambling for you, seeing your deflated form on the floor. He finds his heart tightened in pain, seeing one of his dear friends like this was no fun way to meet.
His first pair of arms lift under your own, lifting you up and sitting you on the ground now. Shiva's lips pursed in quiet concern, his expressed tone coming off in tendrils of worry, "What happened to ya?" He finally asks, his second pair of arms crossing together as he steadied himself to find calm.
Your face appeared to be oh so, tired, tired of about everything at this very moment. Even if you wished, you couldn't escape it. You didn't want this at all, that thunder god's twisted love. That heart of his was so soft and sweet in the beginning, now it had bone-crushed, into something worse. Your hands find purchase in his legs, trying to upright yourself without feeling your body dragged down by mental weight and back-handed words. Too much had happened, far too much.
Shiva winces as you suddenly almost fell, his two upfront hands coming to fence you from it actually happening in the process. He sighs, "Take it easy."
The words were hard to find, your voice coming off weary and cautious. "He, didn't let me off easy." A brow raises, his emotions swirling tremendously in the pit of his stomach. Worry makes room for fear, and soft anger at the subject you mentioned. "Thor kept me here for far too long."
The god of destruction inhales a sharp breath, seeing your worn and weary state, as if it were exploded by the thousand shards of shrapnel.
Now it suddenly made sense.
The thunder god's behavior, the snappy remarks at the mention of you. Why you had been left at the word of a disppearance for quite some time now.
"Hey, you don't gotta worry about him anymore." He says after the moments of silence, settling you between his arms as he carries you in the manner of a bride. Shiva shoots you a tiny smile, "You hear?"
The god of destruction was gonna have a serious talk with Thor, no matter how powerful he may be.
- 𝐎𝐝𝐢𝐧
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pixiesfz · 3 months
Text
p3 of this ….more jill next chapter I promise
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lyrics more than words j.r x reader
plot: you get back into song writting after the incident
warning: mentions of sa and assault, it ends with us themed
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She apologized.
She apologized a thousand times.
And for some stupid fucking reason you forgave her.
Why?
It could’ve been because you didn’t have many friends, she promised it was a one-time thing and it wouldn’t happen again.
You had no parents to go to.
It was a Thursday night, Ellie was opening the red wine to celebrate your eight-month anniversary but you didn’t find yourself excited. You sat on the ground of the living room, no matter how much it numbed your bottom half you hadn’t sat on the couch since the ‘incident’.
Ellie walked in with the wine and a charcuterie board you had made earlier and sat down on the couch behind you.  
“How was work?” You asked and Ellie played with your hair “The usual, clients lying and me having to cover up for them” She shrugged and you nodded.
“How about you?” Ellie asked and you thought about it.
You hadn’t had the most inspiration to write lately, at least the inspiration to write good songs, songs that weren’t filled with heartache.
“I’ve got a bit of writer's block at the minute,” you told her and she furrowed her brows.
Just listen to your old songs, you said that little things like that help” You nodded your head “Maybe”.
You tried.
Really fucking tried.
But it all leads to crying on your studio’s couch.
Listening to how much you once loved Ellie, trusted her, called her your home.
Now you dreaded going to her home, checked twice before she sat next to her and looked away once you told her you love her.
It wasn’t until you dug through your papers and found your old songs from high school you found the motivation to put your pen to a page.
The thoughts about your childhood, the love that you shared with Jill, the adrenaline that ran through you both when you ran away from your dates at the school dance to go into the only open classroom where you could still hear the music.
But then came the thoughts of sadness. You couldn’t hold her in public, or share kisses in the street. You couldn’t gush to your friends about her, the only person you could talk about Jill with�� was Jill.
The whole ordeal was frustrating but when you thought back to it, you never regretted a single thing.
Your words wrote themselves on the page as you hummed a melody, this song was yours, and yours only.
You didn’t let anyone read it.
Not even Olivia who begged and begged, you hid it in your draw in your private office at the studio, it was reserved for no eyes but your own.
Now back into your groove, you watched as Ellie walked into your office with a bouquet.
Shocked you leaned back “Hi El, what are you doing here?” you asked and she shrugged “Just thought I’d say hi, you’ve been working hard and staying after hours” She smiled and you blushed.
It was a sweet gesture, and you hadn’t even noticed that everyone had left and you were the only one left.
“Well, is this for me?” you ask, pointing at the flowers and Ellie smirks “It’s actually for Olivia,” she says before you both laughed
“I just wanted to say I’m proud of you” she told you before handing them out “Let me grab a vase from the kitchen spot” you told her, placing a kiss on her cheek before leaving the office door.
Ellie looked around your office as you left, noticing a small key next to your keyboard, furrowing her brows she picked it up and looked around for a place it could go into.
You had always been trustworthy into the relationship and would always be loyal but ever since the game Ellie saw your eyes twinkle when Jill said hello to you.
She had never seen you look at her that way.
So she took it out on you that same night, she regretted it afterwards. When you forgave her she knew she had to keep you forever. You were hers.
When she finally found the keyhole at your desk she opened the draw to find pieces of paper with lyrics on it, a melody on the back.
‘secret love song’
Ellie annotated your writing as she read, this couln’t have been an old writing piece as your handwriting had changed and your writing was slightly mess, some of the letters connecting which meant you were on a roll, the feelings pouring out of you as you wrote.
Anger started to pour out of her, dropping the flowers onto your floor.
You walked in after and stopped at the door when you noticed what papers she had in her hands.
Fear washed over you.
“Ellie?” you asked, walking slowly to her, placing the vase down at your desk.
“When did you write this?” she asked and you panicked “Years ago” you shrugged and she placed it down “You’re lying”
You stepped back “Ellie-“
“Are you cheating on me?”
You rolled your eyes “no I am not cheating on you, this song is about something that happened years ago” you told her, ripping it from her hands.
It seemed to be enough reassurance for her since her shoulders sagged down “I just get self-conscious you know” she said and you nodded, stepping back from the girl.
You were scared
No.
You were petrified.
Stepping to the desk you grabbed the glass vase, putting it as far away as possible.
You looked from the vase and back to Ellie.
You shouldn’t have to stand with your partner and hide objects from them.
You had to leave.
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rezitio · 9 months
Text
┊⋆ ˚✯✩ :: 𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐰/ 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨
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a/n : ion even like gojo that much
synopsis : when you get him so pussy drank he becomes as high as when he was fighting Toji.
characters : gojo Satoru, reader w/ a pussy.
warning : pussy drunk, use of safe word, overstimulation, not mentioned but implied relationship .
cw : 500+ wrds
You have no idea how you make him feel. He loves you so much. Always making sure you're safe, spending so much money on you, He'd destroy the world if anything happened to you. And you know this. So when you finally decide to show him some appreciation by taking his cock with your mouth, he can't stop praising you.
'God, you doing this all for me huh?' His hands digging deep into your hair. 'F-fuck'. He released in your mouth once again. Using his finger to guide the stray drop of his seed off your chin back into your mouth. As he pulled out and tried to scoop his semen from his dick, he realised he couldn't even touch it.
'Fuck, see whatchu' done to me?' He grabbed you up and put you on the bed. 'You can't be doing this to me without me doing nothin' to ya.'
Satoru always wanted to make you feel good. He had too. It's the only way for him to truly feel good. Knowing you're messed up, fucked dumb by him, satisfied gave him true solace.
He brought you to the edge of the bed and kneeled ripping your panties of within a blink of an eye. Your legs over his shoulder as he started to lick, flick, suck, anything to keep hearing those moans eventually getting lost in them.
Pussydrank!Saturo doesn’t know what limits are. His mind is too far off to hear anything but his own thoughts, it's these very thoughts that prevent him from stopping. How you're such a good girl for trying to please him, how your mouth took him so well even though you've said countless times how he was too big. How he loved seeing you gag at first before you finally got used to his length and sucked him he had to release thrice before pulling out. God you're such a good girl.
Pussydrank!Saturo doesn't notice your begging and pleas for him to take it easy till you continuously pushed his head away with your arms and kicked his shoulders with your legs. Unbeknownst to him you had been begging him to slow down but it fell on deaf ears. He looked up at you and the look you saw, this man was not in his right mind. The stoned look on his face, he was high there was no reaching him.
Pussydrank!Saturo with his high stamina and skillfull tongue, he brought you to your limit countless times. You couldn't stop squirting, your legs gave up on you and you didn't feel the pleasure anymore. You're body was begging for rest before it lost its sensitivity, but you didnt know how to reach him, you didnt know how to get to him and the pain only grew so you did what you could only think off.
'Toru- Toru... cr-...' You could barely get the words out 'cross...'
Pussydrank!Saturo who finally got back to his senses and stopped what he was doing immediately. Pushing you on the bed gently and whispering a thousand apologies in your ear. He gently cleaned you up and wrapped you up in your robe, getting you water and a painkiller. God he feels guilty. You're gonna have to start comforting this man now. As you two fall asleep cuddling together with spongebob on the tv.
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Can't believe I wrote this in 24 hours but ok. I was watching the fight with Toji then it just came to me. Planned the whole thing in my head and took it way too far when writing.
:: - 17/12/23
:: - 17/12/23
《rezitio》
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leclsrc · 2 years
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hi auds bear!! dunno if you saw charles' insta story of his new sky ad but now begging for a 2k celebration blurb of dad!charles <3
misspelled – cl16
genre: fluff, 2k celebration, girldad!charles
“It’s L-E-S, love.” He points to the piece of paper peppered with doodles. “Go ahead for me.”
The sun is high and sweltering, with noontime March heat, but still Charles is undeterred in his quest to get your daughter to spell his name properly. The evening prior, you’d presented him with a welcome home card signed by her, and addressed to Daddy Charlse—cue the Leclerc dramatics.
He’d pressed about a thousand kisses to her tiny face, thanking her over and over and keeping the card in his bag so they could cook dinner together. But once the pasta was finished and the toothbrush jingle was sang (twice) and he’d stowed her off to bed (three storybooks later), he padded over to your bed and sighed lowly, stopping just shy of the foot of it. Already you’d sensed his incoming anxious complaint.
It comes. “So. Charl-s-e.” 
“She’s four, honey.” You’d shut your book softly, smiling. “She spells her grandmum’s name as Packal.”
“It’s because I’m always out for work, isn’t it?” He climbed into bed beside you, perching his chin on your stomach. “And this is also because Max keeps insisting he babysit, sweetie. I swear, he’s brainwashing my baby girl.”
You laughed; the vibration extended into him and he smiled fondly at your reaction. “Charles, it’s nothing. They’re working on spelling at school, you know—she’s got a few words she gets wrong sometimes, the same ones. But she’s learning.”
“Charl-s-e,” he’d repeated sullenly. “Charl-seh.”
“If it matters that much, why don’t you try teaching her tomorrow?” You swept your hand through his hair, mouth in a half-smile. “Make an afternoon of it.”
He’d taken your advice very seriously—woken up a bit earlier, cooked them both pancakes (and you French toast, as always) and led her into the yard for some daddy-daughter time. “If you’re thirsty, I made lemonade,” you sing-song from the patio door. “You two’ve been at it for a bit.”
There are scrapped pieces of paper with his name misspelled on most of them—there is the occasional success, though you’re guessing Charles wants just one more—and drawings of your family all over them. You already sense the influx of pictures Charles has on his phone, of these drawings and cards he always posts on his Instagram or sends to you.
At your announcement, Julia looks up, green eyes piqued with interest, grip on the red crayon loosening. But her father’s faster, gently coaxing her back into the mini lawn chair that sits on the yard. She nods along his careful instructions, writing slowly, sun filtering through her light brown hair.
You get short moments of reprieve like this during the season. It’s rare for Charles to visit if he’s in the thick of it—most of the time you travel to a different city to see him, Julia going from your hip to his arms in seconds once he spots the two of you. But this moment is irreplaceable: the sunrays on the grass, the lemonade waiting to be drank, the pieces of paper with Mommy and Papa, bunchfuls of grapes on the patio table. 
He tries again. “Come on, love. C-H-A…” 
She bounds into the kitchen five minutes clutching a final paper, which she shows you with a sun-tinged face of pride. CHARLSE, it reads still. You pour her a glass, wait for Charles to finish packing up the rest of the art materials Julia was too excited to do herself; he comes in a bit sweaty from the sun asking to see the card.
You hand him a glass and press a kiss to his cheek. “Still S-E,” you say, both of you reading over the various scribbles.
“I don’t care.” He pauses. “You see this?” He points to the lower part of the page. 
Best Daddy Ever is written on it in wild vivid colors. You beam, love bubbling up in your chest overwhelmingly. He takes it from you and tacks it onto on the fridge, smiling. “She wrote that. I couldn’t have asked for a better card.” 
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