#love a good song packed with emotion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-sins · 3 months

Note

Just saw your greek god works and they're top notch! Could you do something with yan Apollo? There's just soooo much stuff to work with with him... Thanks!

Thank you for requesting!! I love writing about them ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Very little could speak more about your skills than a personal invite to present them at Olympus.

The morning Apollo arrived in his golden chariot was an exceptionally bright one. Naturally, because his body emanated the rays of sun that broke through your window, his radiant smile widening on his youthful face the second you stepped out of your hut. Your mother was crying—tears of joy as you realized when she hugged you tightly, telling you how proud she was. Even your father seemed choked up when he told you you were special.

So, as you finally stood before the handsome stranger, the god whose shrine you visited regularly, you were utterly speechless, overcome with emotions you couldn't place. You could only listen as he spoke to you, his voice silken like the soft breeze on a summer's day yet as cheerful as the anticipation for an exciting festival.

"I want you to play," he made his intentions known, his hand falling to the side of your head, letting a lock of hair glide through the gaps in his fingers. His touch was warm and gentle, beyond anything you expected an immortal to feel like. "For us, for me."

"It would be an honor," you honestly muttered back after your mother urged you with a slight push, reminding you not to be rude to the god who was blessing you with such good fortune. Most people were honored in war, because of their devotion to their deity, in the pursuit of knowledge, or in death. To be chosen solely for your lyre play was rare, and you felt overwhelmed with gratitude, tears filling your eyes.

Apollo smiled, promising to come back in a mere three days time. Not enough to memorize all the songs you wanted to play, but while your parents packed you a small bag with the essentials and exempted you from your duties on their farm while making sure you were fed and clean, you kept practicing your craft until your fingers were raw and bloody. Apollo had assured you that there was no perfection in music. Still, you wouldn't have been able to endure the shame of hitting the wrong note to a song everyone knew—even the gods. And so you practiced, day and night, until finally, it was time to leave.

That morning was colder yet auspicious. So many burdens weighed on your shoulders—your performance, bringing honor to your family and yourself, the payment you heard your parents whisper about. There had always been food on the table for your big family, but you noticed their excitement when they talked about the boon that the gods would give you for performing well. You gulped nervously as you fiddled with the newly strung lyre in your hand when, with loud neighs and the warmth of a sunny day washing over you, Apollo arrived. When he smiled at you, you couldn't help but grin back, excited for this day, his brilliant mood instantly captivating yours.

You bid your parents farewell as they wished you a good performance and safe travels. They waved after you as the heavenly chariot took off into the morning sky, announcing another beautiful day. You got to stand close to the sun god as he performed his duty, chatting carefreely about how excited he was to hear you play and how everyone was expecting you eagerly. It made you nervous, but being close to him, his arm around you to keep you secured, Apollo's presence made your worries simply melt away. You could have never seen yourself as his equal, but he didn't make you feel any less than a friend.

He took his time cruising you through the sky, showed you the magnificent temples of the gods, let you taste the richest grapes the land had to offer, and took you to places that most humans wouldn't see in the span of multiple lifetimes. Always with a hand outstretched to help you step down from or into his chariot, and watchful eyes looking out for you. You learned a lot that day, the excursion long but magical, especially with a god by your side as your guide. To him, it must have been boring stuff that he saw every day, but to you, it became the most incredible day of your life very quickly.

Until you were brought before the entrance to the Olymp, that is.

Chariot parked, you could still feel Apollo standing behind you, protectively but encouragingly. His frame towered massively next to you, cutting you off from the human world behind his radiant form. The sun was setting, leaving you with a chill. But perhaps you were only imagining it, your performance anxiety rising. His warm hand gently pressed into the small of your back, urging you with determination to step ahead and face the rest of the pantheon of gods that had collected, to play them the songs you had come for.

With weak knees, you took one step in front of the other, Apollo always by your side. He ensured you wouldn't falter as all eyes in the grand hall seemed to turn towards you the moment you stepped through the entrance. There were all kinds of eyes—wise and godly and mythical. But you were more surprised by the human ones, tired ones, downright exhausted ones that raised to watch you. Their presence felt out of place, but then again, so did yours. However, there was something deeply unsettling in the dullness of their eyes, the sloppy movements as they walked around the hall, seemingly without vigor, their stares the only reaction to your arrival contrasting starkly with the boisterous and booming voices of the immortals greeting you.

"Apollo, is this your new charge?" a faun asked, curiously eyeing you and your lyre. "Your new songbird, eh?"

Apollo laughed, waving off the comments from all sides as he moved you forward, guiding you through gods and servants alike, their hands reaching out, touching you, admiring you. You couldn't help but startle at the different sensations of these touches—cold, sharp, unnatural. It made you cling to Apollo more, his presence way more comforting, and although he had grown in size—appearing mighty godly now—he made sure that his arm stayed around you like a shield.

One dull-eyed human after another tried to serve you food and drinks that you declined respectfully. It was hard enough to keep up with the pressure, and you didn't have the stomach for any kind of intake—at least not until you were done. And with Apollo's urging, you didn't stick around to talk to them or even watch them, although you felt their eyes drill into your back.

You were led to the seats at the very top of the grand hall, guided to the ones at the side which were vividly red with golden threads. Sitting down on them was like sinking into a cloud as Apollo helped you up, lowering you down gently. The surrounding lounges and pillows on the floor were quickly filled with eager eyes looking up at you, waiting for your play just like your patron god had promised them. You couldn't help but look around, cross eyes with some of the nymphs and minor goddesses and gods that you probably had heard from but were never educated on properly.

But the gathered gods were easily recognizable by their trademarks—Dionysus, Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis, just to name a few of them—and you were surprised to see them keeping one or more humans by their sides, looking very different from the ones you had seen before. These ones were clothed and prepared with great care, love, and devotion to their god. Their cheeks were plump, and they smiled when their patron spoke to them, albeit hesitantly. However, the unsettling feeling you got from the dull-eyed ones before didn't vanish as you watched these devoted humans. Something about their posture and expressions didn't match the festivities. They looked uncomfortable, and some of them even sad.

"It is time," Apollo spoke softly beside you, his voice gentle but intent. This was his party, and you were the special performance; of course, he didn't want you to be distracted and unable to play. His touch tore you out of your observations. It drew your attention back to him, strong fingers wrapping around your shoulders, squeezing you encouragely, but it was almost a little hurtful. You nodded, thankful he didn't make you look incompetent in front of everyone, and his grip softened in satisfaction, although it didn't disappear. Still, you couldn't help the anxiety from rising, your mouth dry, and your fingers jittery. Even when you tried to calm yourself, you couldn't entirely focus, panic rising inside you.

Now that you had come so far, you couldn't fail.

A hearty and a beautiful laugh rang out from your side, Dionysus and Aphrodite exchanging knowing looks before the goddess handed one of her humans a golden chalice and encouraged them to get up. "Go," she chimed, and her stunningly beautiful charge sauntered their way over to you, handing you the chalice. They were undeniably beautiful, even when clothed in the simplest garments. But their gaze was unblinking as they handed over the cup. "Don't," they hissed sharply in a whisper, their eyes flitting to Apollo for just a second, and you felt his fingers dig into your skin before the human left you again, trotting quickly and without a detour back to Aphrodite's side. The goddess patted their head before returning her attention to you, gesturing for you to drink. "To your nerves, you ray of sunshine," Dionysus laughed merrily, and everyone raised their chalices in a toast.

You nervously crossed eyes with the human that brought you the drink, seeing their expression hardening in a deep frown unbecoming of their beauty. Then you looked to Apollo, his own cup raised to his lips, but he had yet to drink from it. He observed you from the corners of his eyes, smiling when he noticed you looking back. "It's just a little bit of wine," he reassured you, assuming you were unsure if it was okay to drink.

You nodded, feeling pressured not to refuse the gods' hospitality, and raised the chalice to your mouth to take a tentative sip. It wasn't more than two gulps before you set it down, letting it be taken away by a nymph that sat at your feet. Immediately, the tension became lighter, your worries melting away, especially when Apollo drew you closer to his body, his warmth seeping into you. He steadied you for your play, letting you lean on him as much as you needed. With all the pressure and anxiety you had felt, you had almost forgotten that playing the lyre was fun. That you enjoyed doing it, and practiced hard enough to even perform before the gods. With the first chord echoing through the hall, all the tension finally left your body.

It was glorious.

Gods and humans alike sang along to the well-known songs you had picked; they listened when you added nuances to your play, and some of them got cozy with each other, cuddling and kissing as you presented them with the romantic notes everyone adored. By the time your hands were tired, fingers roughed up by the strings, and your concentration fading, everyone was in awe and satisfied with your performance, gods clapping their hands and cheering at you as you finished.

However, you immediately looked up at Apollo, greeted by his radiant smile beaming down at you. His hand raised to pat your head as he announced you as the magnificent talent of the night. The relief mixing with pride swelled in your chest, heating your cheeks as you took some humble bows, smothered in the cheers. Another cup was handed to you, and after performing for so long, you were glad to wet your throat.

Most of the night was spent talking to eager fans of music, letting them play your lyre, and hearing their own songs. Drinks would be passed to you, food almost shoved into your mouth by the merry folks, and you laughed along with them over their silliness. You felt lighter than ever before, so caught up in the moment and with the alcohol only adding towards the sense of mirth. The mystics were as playful and cheery as they had always been described, but you knew it would only be for that night, so you enjoyed their company.

Apollo wouldn't leave your side even as gods approached him, congratulating him for finding such a treasure amongst the humans and asking if he'd let them "take" you for their celebrations sometimes. You didn't get to hear his answers as your attention was drawn away by humans joining in with the conversations, telling you about their boons and how they were accepted into Olympus. They were all extraordinary people, and you felt quite small next to them. But they didn't make you feel unwelcome in their midst, and you were glad to hear about their experiences. Nymphs would braid everyone's hair, decorating them with flowers, fauns were playing around, everything seemed like the perfect idylle that all humans imagined the lives of gods to be.

"You shouldn't agree if they ask you to stay," the human beside you suddenly whispered. She was a cute, dainty woman, a follower of Artemis clothed in silver and pelts. Immediately, her hair was yanked back as one of the nymphs hissed at her. You caught the words 'insolent' and 'behave', but others crowded around you so fast, talking over the two and asking you questions as that woman was taken away, so you were forced to shift your attention.

It wasn't until you felt a warm hand graze over your back that you looked up at Apollo again, his gaze very gentle. He seemed satisfied with how the evening went. He might have even held some affection for you after the performance, which put him in good graces with everyone. Relief flooded your senses, and you bit back a yawn as exhaustion suddenly crashed into you, taking hold in your body.

"Are you tired?" he asked, and suddenly, you couldn't hold back the signs in front of him. You had kept it together so well, but you figured that playing for hours, talking for even longer, and drinking the sweet, fruity wine was coming back to haunt you now. Leaning into his comforting touch, you gave him a small nod and he understood, standing up and helping you get to your feet.

There were lots of disappointed aws and ohs at the announcement of your departure, nymphs and fauns seeing you off and waving after you as Apollo brought you back to his chariot, your legs even weaker now than when you entered the Olymp full of anxiety. No human came to see you off, but you barely registered that in your tired mind. Instead, you put on a smile and waved back at everyone after getting on the chariot.

"Did you have fun?" Apollo asked as he urged his horses to go. The night had long set, yet you two moved across the sky like a shooting star in the darkness.

"A lot," you confirmed. "This was an amazing experience; I am very grateful to you for this opportunity! Although it makes me sad that it is already over."

You could hear your own words slurred by the intoxication and exhaustion, yet you managed to form a tired smile for him. Apollo stepped closer, helping you stay upright as he urged his horses forward before returning your smile.

"It doesn't have to end," he hummed cheerfully, not a hint of tiredness in his demeanor. "You could play for us every night. Party with everyone, be merry. Would you like that?"

You chuckled at his suggestion but shook your head as you looked out into the night sky, stars passing you by at a speed that made them look like the shooting stars.

"It was a lot of fun, but I got to go home. My parents need my help on the farm, even if I love playing the lyre."

Apollo hummed thoughtfully, and you felt closer and closer to sleep as his warmth enveloped you. You only realized you had dozed off when you felt the soft thud of the chariot landing beneath your feet, followed by two hands guiding you off it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you were too tired to really do much but let yourself be picked up, nuzzling your face into Apollo's comforting warmth.

His steps were less gentle than his touches, his hold on you bouncy as if he was in a rush. The sounds around you turned from the peaceful night wind passing you by into complete silence, only his steps echoing as they hit marble floors. A rush of coldness threatened to envelop you, but Apollo pulled you closer to him, not letting the cold get near. You felt something reach out for you again, like the gods had, curious and uncaring of your privacy. It didn't feel familiar, your senses slowly reawakening, but something inside you seemed to want to keep you dormant for a while longer.

However, the feeling was interrupted when you were laid down into the softest cushions, with Apollo's warmth brushing over your head as you felt his weight dip the mattress you were on top of. Even with your drowsy mind, you knew you weren't in your own bed, concern rising. "Where are we?" you sighed, stretching your neck to receive more of his incredibly comforting warmth while a shiver ran down your spine. Why was it so unusually cold in this place, or had you just gotten too used to having Apollo's warmth around you that you only realized the shift in temperature now?

"Home," he answered your question, and you pried your eyes open, looking at the blurry, radiant form of the god sitting by your bedside. Then, slowly, every movement paired with so much discomfort, you let your head fall to the side, looking around at the vast darkness surrounding you. Not even Apollo's light could banish the pitch-black shadows all around you, and no sound penetrated the room.

" 's not my home..." you mumbled, brows furrowing, your deduction taking an awful lot of time. This place felt weird compared to all the wonderful ones you had visited. If this was his home, you had imagined it to be bright and beautiful, a golden palace of light and warmth. But instead, you feared for your little toes as the shadows seemed to reach out, wanting some of your warmth instead of giving it to you.

"It is now," he reassured you, sounding unusually stern even though his hand caressed you gently, brushing away your hair and cupping your cheek to turn your head towards him again.

"But my parents..."

"They knew the price they'd pay in this trade."

Leaning down, Apollo connected his forehead with yours, the depth of his eyes impalpable, especially in your muddled brain. You couldn't read him well, but he seemed... satisfied? He didn't seem to be ridden by confusion or worry like you were; rather, he was confident and calm. Something stirred in you, a sense of anxiety, but it was beaten down by a sweet-tasting tiredness immediately.

"Welcome home," he muttered, kissing your temples. "Catch some sleep so you can fulfill your duties to me tomorrow with the same brilliance as you did today. I'll be right here, making sure you are well-rested for your next performance, Sunshine."

"Duties?" you mumbled, already getting lulled back to sleep with his warmth now enveloping you like a blanket. You didn't hear his answer, even when you saw his lips move. Perhaps Apollo sang to you rather than spoke about what you wanted to know, but you wouldn't know.

You were plunged into the darkness of uncertainty, but even when you opened your eyes again, all that awaited you were more shadows that seemed to reach out for you. A sense of panic and unease spread throughout you, the uncertainty turning you into more of a wreck than you already felt after waking up with a splitting headache and no idea where you were.

It was no wonder that you immediately ran to Apollo when his light lit up the room. He gently wiped the tears from your face and assured you everything would be alright before pushing your lyre into your hands. You didn't even remember bringing it back from the Olymp, but he didn't seem to mind your carelessness.

"Now, play," he asked, and you gulped. You were barely awake, your fingers still hurt, and you were in an unfamiliar place that gave you the creeps.

"Here?" you asked, unsure as you looked around the depressing, dark room.

"Exactly here. Brighten up our home for me, will you? It's been too long since someone made it bearable to stay here. You won't disappoint me, right?"

"How... how did they do it? Will my playing be enough?"

"We'll see," Apollo said, gripping your arms tensely, his eyes glazing over with impatience.

"And if not?" you asked anxiously, unsure if a song could disperse the discomfort that seemed to reign in this home.

This time, Apollo hesitated, mouth opening briefly before his lips turned into a gentle smile. "Don't disappoint me, Sunshine. I can't stand this darkness and silence in my home anymore, and your parents assured me of how much life you could bring to any place. Seeing you perform before the gods, I immediately knew you could do it. You'll make this place a home again, one for us to live happily for the rest of our time. And if not..."

Letting go of your arms, Apollo stood up, turning around and heading for the door at the far side of the room. You wanted to follow him as the shadows lapped at you, but you felt glued to the floor, frozen in fear. With Apollo opening the door, you watched as the clouds passed by right outside, a complete drop into nothingness spreading out in front of this house, the chariot parked on seemingly no ground just outside of reach.

"If not, you'll learn what happened to the person before you that disappointed me," Apollo explained, not even pointing outside and towards the ground to make his crypticness make sense. "Play," he demanded. "Turn this place back into a home. Our home, Sunshine."

And with dread etched into your face, you strung the chords.

443 notes · View notes

kianely · 9 months

Text

”YOU SEND ME RIGHT TO HEAVEN”

i. PAIRING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

ii. SYNOPSIS — Fresh out of police academy, Leon heads back to his hometown to crash with his best friend before he has to move to Raccoon City. The only problem is, you’re there too — his best friend’s sibling. He has been harboring feelings for you for years, so being under the same roof as you rekindles some emotions he wasn’t able to bury. You were in a similar position.

iii. CONTENT — MDNI, 18+, mutual feelings + confessions, fluff, kissing, making out, brief mentions of masturbation, blowjob (Leon receiving), lube, fingering (reader receiving), penetrative sex, protection, consent checks, aftercare, you just graduated college (so around same age as him), banter, he’s like the boy next door, late night car ride, he’s kinda cliche and throws a rock at your window, no mention of parents, I tried to make this more dialogue heavy woo, in Grammarly I trust, let there be no typos

iv. WC — 8.6k

Leon drummed his fingers against the leather fabric of his steering wheel, humming along to the song playing in his car. He was excited, parked outside of his old high school’s friend house — which by extension, was your house too.

He was fresh out of police academy, a soon-to-be rookie at the Raccoon City Department. He packed some bags with enough of his belongings and drove back to his hometown, wanting to spend some time with his good and most trusted pal before he settled down in a new city and focused on his work.

He took his keys off the ignition, got off, and got his bags. His hands were full when he walked up to the front door, so he rang the doorbell with his elbow. For some reason, he felt a tad bit nervous. He’d seen your brother maybe over six months ago, but he hadn’t been inside the place in a while, maybe a few years.

When the door began to open, he was almost ready to say your brother’s name. Instead, he was greeted with a special someone he hadn’t expected to see. You.

Leon nearly dropped his bags. He hadn’t seen you in a couple of years because you decided to dorm at a university. Right. Yes. You must’ve graduated by now.

“Leon?”

God, your voice almost made his jaw slacken. He loved hearing his name come out of your lips.

He didn’t even get a chance to respond — managing to keep his ground when you stepped out to hug him. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been what, like two years already?”

“Woah — yeah, yeah…something like that. It’s really good to see you too.”

You made his heartbeat spike. Your arms around him, the way you leaned against him. Granted, he was standing somewhat stiffly because he was holding his bags. But…he couldn’t resist you — he let them drop onto the patio floor with a couple of thumps before he wrapped his arms around you. He tried to do so in the most platonic way possible, fearing he’d see the light if your brother happened to join the scene.

Leon had a thing for you. Always had. Always will.

He was too scared to do a damn thing about it, in his eyes, you were simply off limits. Like a forbidden fruit, a temptation that couldn’t be indulged in without some sacrifice.

He let his arms linger back to his sides when you pulled away, and he sucked in a breath.

“Come on in,” you flashed him that gleaming smile of yours as you reached for one of his bags to help him out. “My brother’s upstairs cleaning up his room. He said he’s setting up a bed for you…I think.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t let me take the couch. Said he wanted me to be his roommate, so it’ll be just like old times.”

Leon was hit with a wave of nostalgia as he took a look at the interior, it looked exactly like he remembered. Not much had changed, aside from the addition of some photos, a wall-mount TV instead of a TV stand, and other small details here and there.

“You’ve changed a lot. In a good way.” You spoke up.

“Have I?”

“Yeah, I mean, just look at you.”

He looked down at himself. Shirt. Jacket. Shoes. A similar style as before. And he knew his hair wasn’t any different. What were you getting at?

He then looked back at you.

Oh.

Your eyes were practically glued to his arms. Have you always blatantly checked him out like this? Suddenly, he felt a wave of heat wash over him. The worst part is, you seemed genuinely curious — not like you were ogling him, but as if asking: Wow? Where’d those guns come from?

“It was all the drills at the police academy.” He knew that you knew that, which led him to believe that the point of your observation was to subtly compliment him. “The amount of training was pretty brutal, but I’m ready for the job.”

“I’m sure you are. I heard you graduated at the top ten percent of your class, that’s pretty cool!” You were being genuine, he could hear it in your voice since it went to a slightly higher-pitched tone.

The playful nudge you gave his shoulder made the ends of his eyes crinkle, he loved it when you did that — it reminded him of how things were back then when he visited often, the way you’d nudge him or even ruffle his hair whenever you were happy or excited over his accomplishments. It made him feel seen.

“It was nothing,” he was humble, as usual. “It has just always been my dream.”

“I know…I’m really proud of you, Leon.”

The way you attached his name to the praise just made it sound all the more personal, the tips of his ears felt like they were burning. He bashfully rubbed the nape of his neck. “Uh thanks, I really appreciate that. It means a lot coming from you.”

Leon had always been a complete sweetheart with you. He was the epitome of ‘the boy next door’. He had fond memories of trying to muster up the courage to ask you to be his Valentine’s during high school — the two of you attended the same one and were a year off from one another, so he saw you around. Again though, he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with your brother…so he never asked.

He thought about driving over to your house and throwing a pebble at your window to get your attention, and he’d be holding a bouquet in his hands. Just a daydream, but a fun one to look back on nevertheless. He always gave you presents on your birthday and Christmas, nothing too grand so he wouldn’t get your brother suspicious, but just enough so he could see you light up as you unwrapped the gift.

“Are those your graduation photos?” He took notice of some polaroids splayed out on the coffee table, ones with you with a cap and gown.

“Yeah, feel free to look at them.”

Leon wished he could’ve watched you walk the stage. Yeah, he attended your high school one, but he would’ve liked to see the college one too. Maybe he’d ask if any of your family or friends took a video later. There was a goofy grin on his face the entire time he looked through them.

He was so absorbed that he didn’t even hear the footsteps down the stairs, nor the chuckle you let out before your brother playfully pulled him into a chokehold.

“Dude, really? How are you going to be part of the force like this?”

Leon swatted your brother away with a roll of eyes, all out of love of course — he easily maneuvered out of the half-assed chokehold. “Cut me some slack, I was a little distracted.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem. Don’t you have to be attentive and shit?”

That right there was your sign to leave — your brother was really close with Leon, and you wanted to give them time to catch up. After all, you’d probably be bumping into Leon a lot since he was going to be staying for a couple of days.

Leon hated the way his eyes trailed over to your form as you made your way upstairs. He’s supposed to be paying attention to your brother, so why were you clouding his thoughts? With a very small physical shake of head, he redirected his attention to your brother, nodding along as he listened in to his chit-chatter and caught up with everything that had happened in his hometown.

But in the back of his mind, he knew he was screwed.

You wanted to bury your face against your pillow and scream. How were you supposed to act now that your high school crush was here? Your brother’s best friend. The one you had always dreamed of dating. That was a long time ago. But even in college, you always longed to see him again — to grab lunch and coffee with him and then show him around your campus with your hand in his.

Leon popped into your head whenever you dipped your hand underneath your waistband to relieve your urges. Your stomach bubbled with craving when you felt pent up late at night, even if you tried to think of someone else, Leon was always in your mind whenever you came and muffled your noises into your pillow.

No amount of people you saw in college even came close to Leon.

He had gotten so much stronger. When he hugged you earlier…you could feel his bulging biceps and noticed how much broader his shoulders were. You were sure his pecs were in solid condition too, it made you want to bury your head between them. He had always been fit, but you knew damn well you’d see a six-pack if he took off his shirt.

So for his sweet self to be just a walking distance away was pretty overwhelming. You could handle a day, maybe even two, but as far as you know, he was going to be staying longer. Not as long as a week, but still enough to have you worrying.

It had been four hours since he arrived. You could faintly hear some laughter. That wasn’t a surprise though, your brother’s room was just across the hall from yours.

That's it. No more. You were going insane.

You got up and played some music, not too loud, just enough to drown the other sounds out. It was dark outside now, you opened up the window to let some of the breeze in to ventilate your room.

It was going just fine until you fast-forward to half an hour later.

A familiar set of knocks distracts you from your worries. Wait, never mind. The one behind the knocks was the cause of your worries.

You lowered the volume of your music a bit and took a very quick look in the mirror to make sure you looked okay before opening the door.

Leon leaned against your door frame, just casually — like he didn’t know just how pretty he looked right now. In his defense, you knew he probably didn’t. He had always been a little dense about all that.

“Hey.”

“...Hey.”

His awkwardness was a part of his charm.

“Does my brother need something or?”

“Oh, no. Uh, one of his coworkers called him and I felt a bit neglected, so here I am.”

Don’t you know it? If you had a penny for the amount of times your brother had paced around the entire house getting into a heated conversation over work gossip, you’d have enough to pay off your student debt.

“Trust me, those phone calls can last hours.” You walked back to sink into your bed with a contended grunt, making a hand gesture for him to come in.

Why would you do that? Being in a closed space with him wasn’t a good idea considering all the thoughts spinning in your head.

Leon had never really entered your room, at least not for over a couple of minutes. He didn’t know where to sit despite there being many surfaces: the window seat, your desk chair, the floor, the beanbag you had, your bed, no — out of the question.

“Don’t be so stiff,” you teased, finding the way he looked a bit out of place a little cute. “Sit anywhere you like.”

He laughed before heading over to the window seat. “Just don’t want to be intrusive.”

“You? As if.”

Leon took an in-depth look around — posters of shows and bands, little collections of trinkets, old textbooks, scattered papers on your desk, diplomas and awards plastered on your wall, stickers on the cover of your laptop, a corner with some of your hobbies, a counter with your personal products. It seemed so…you. So naturally, he liked it. It was cozy.

And God, it smelled like you too. It made him dizzy. In a way, it was comforting, like the scent he’d get whenever you passed by him or when the two of you briefly hugged. Though at the same time, his mind was also pulled toward a more inappropriate direction. He’d be able to drown in your scent if you let him bury his face against the crook of your neck so he could nip at your skin and make you a purring mess in his arms.

The idea of being so physically close to you to the point your fragrance and scent rubbed off on his clothes afterward? Now that had his blood rushing straight to the gutter.

You felt nervous, aware of his moving eyes — you were glad the attention wasn’t directly on you, you tried to continue casually scrolling on your phone despite the way your heart was hammering.

“Better than my brother’s room?”

“Mm, I don’t know about that.”

“Pftt, you’re just biased.”

He didn’t have a rebuttal for that, merely shrugging as his eyes continued their exploration. Eventually, he caught sight of something familiar sitting on top of your nightstand — a set of headphones he had gifted you. He always knew how much you loved music, so he had gotten that for you a long time ago.

“You still have those?”

“Hm?” You followed his gaze, and your lips tugged into a smile as you reached over to dangle them in the air for him to see more properly. “Duh! Actually…they stopped working a couple of months back, but they lasted me a pretty long time.”

With the ice broken, Leon felt more comfortable. He went over to sit down on your bed. He wasn’t questionably close to you, but he was manspreading so his knee nearly grazed against yours.

“Is there any use in keeping a pair of broken headphones around?”

“Uh, yes.” You said matter-of-factly as you now clutched them close to your chest, looking at them almost sentimentally. “I cherish everything that you’ve given me. These bad boys aren’t seeing a trash can anytime soon.”

Cute. Cute…Cute.

“You sure you aren’t just a hoarder?”

“Rude.”

“Just a question.”

“Yeah, a rude one.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Whatever.”

You were killing him. Leon felt his self-restraint diminish by the second. He could mess up so easily. He wanted to confess. To kiss you. Hold your hand. Plant his lips against your forehead. Rest his head against your lap and melt as you play with his hair.

He could do it, assuming you returned his feelings. He was moving to Raccoon City soon, it’s better to not have any regrets, right? He loves your brother, but at this point screw him. Leon has been pining for you for years.

He was incredibly tempted, hanging on a thin string. But he had to know one thing first. “So, are you dating anyone? There must’ve been plenty of candidates in college.”

“Nah, I dated here and there but…nothing lasted long. It’s weird, everyone was focused on something different, so nothing ever worked out.” Because none of them were him.

“What about you?”

“No one.” He replied.

Great, you were both single.

Silence. Again. This time with occasional fleeting eye contact. Leon twiddled his thumbs, his hands resting on his lap.

You purposely shifted closer to him, enough for your thigh to press up against his a little. Wow. He hadn’t expected to feel a jolt of electricity from that.

He looked over at you more clearly this time, his eyes searched yours.

You were losing your shit, drawn to his baby blue eyes. With your nearby lamp turned on, you could see the way his cheeks progressively turned rosy. Your eyes flickered to his lips. They looked soft, as if he put lip balm on consistently. Would they feel like a pillow?

He felt like he was burning, and he nervously tugged his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You know, I’ve always found you cute.” You were the one to break the silence.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Your brother would kill me. Take it back.”

“My brother would kill you for something I said?” You scoffed. “You’re funny.”

“You know what I meant.”

You did.

But it hurt a little. Would Leon really hold back on his feelings all because of your brother? As far as you were concerned, your brother had never told you to not go after Leon. And if that was some sort of unspoken rule…then too bad.

Leon knew you had him wrapped around your finger, he didn’t stand a chance.

“Come on, Kennedy. You’re telling me you’ve never thought about this?”

“Well, yeah…But—“

“Just one kiss, please, Leon?”

You just had to say his name, didn’t you?

One kiss. Only one. Yeah, he could work with that. No hand holding or waist holding. Just a kiss, how bad could it be?

“Just one.” He agreed, his voice a whisper.

Leon leaned in, stopping just moments before his lips touched yours. He was nervous. If he was granted even a piece of heaven, surely he’d end up craving more. But he would deal with it. He caved.

His lips gently met yours. God, your lips felt plush. It was a simple one, ending as soon as it began. But of course, it wasn’t going to end there. The two of you were already in each other’s space. The short peck wasn’t enough.

“So, two?”

“Yeah.” You placed your hand on the side of his upper neck and caressed his cheek with your thumb.

“God…” Leon folded, leaning in once more with a suave and much longer kiss this time. His body pressed against yours a little, his body heat mixing with yours.

Just a few minutes passed, and the two of you were making out — slowly and sensually. Your tongues naturally clashed against one another, no rush or doubt, just instinct. Leon tasted good, like spearmint.

“I’ve always had a thing for you,” Leon murmured the confession out in between kisses. He didn’t want you to think he was kissing you just for the hell of it, or for mere physical attraction. You were important to him, the person who harbored his thoughts for the past years of his life.

Honestly, if you weren’t underneath him like this, you might’ve reacted more incredulously. But he was kissing you so intimately, you weren’t surprised. Even so, his sincerity was sweet.

“For how long?”

Another kiss — A pause.

“Since the day your brother introduced us.” Another one. “Six years now.”

You smiled into the kiss, and it prompted him to do so as well. But eventually, you leaned back to look at him. “For the record, I’ve always liked you too. You never made a move on me though, so I thought maybe you didn’t see me that way.”

“Please. I’ve always been crazy over you.”

“Good, that’s how I like my men. Now c’mere…”

With that, the two of you continued kissing. You could scream into your pillow later once you had the chance to process the fact the man of your dreams had just confessed to you. For now though…his taste was pretty damn distracting.

What drove Leon crazy was whenever he managed to hear some quiet noises escape from you: a discreet moan into his mouth, a gasp when he snaked his hand up and down your side, an exhale when he pulled away to kiss the corner of your lips and catch his breath. He hoped you didn’t feel the way he was beginning to get a little hard, not a full-blown boner, but…you got him riled up fairly easily.

Your fingers were threading through his hair, unintentionally ruffling it up. And you figured something out fairly soon — a gentle tug on his hair made him breathless. He liked it.

The music still softly playing in your room kept the sounds of your lips smacking and occasional chatter hidden, but eventually, your mind drifted to the reason why Leon had come into your room in the first place.

“Okay, okay.” You laughed quietly, pressing your palms flat against Leon’s chest and keeping him at a distance. “I think that’s enough…my brother’s probably done with his call by now. He probably just thinks you’re in the bathroom or something.”

Leon’s breathing was a bit heavy, his lips felt all tingly from the amount of time that they had been against yours. “I forgot about that…yeah, I should get going.”

He sat up, licking his lips as if to get more of your remaining taste. He was glad you guys had stopped there, otherwise, there’d be a bulge straining against his pants — which would be pretty damn awkward.

“You’re dangerous, y’know that?” Leon sounded amused. He stood up and went over to your mirror to fix his hair up and make himself look as if he had not just been kissing his best friend’s sibling.

“What are you gonna do about it? Handcuff me?”

“I’m not officially on the job…but I might just have to.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can talk to me about the law some other time.”

Two days had passed since then. Leon hadn’t had many opportunities to interact with you since your brother kept taking him out of the house to stroll around the town and reminisce on memories. Even amidst a trip down memory lane, Leon couldn’t get you off his mind. The kissing, the confession, there has to be more to the story the two of you have developed.

He couldn’t sleep all night, lying on the makeshift bed your brother had prepared for him. He tossed and turned, knowing you were just down the hallway was testing his self-restraint.

The good news? Your brother was a heavy sleeper. We’re talking…he wouldn’t wake up without many nearby alarms or without a bucket of water being poured onto him.

Leon shuffled out of his makeshift bed, threw some clothes on, grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, headed downstairs, and then made his way outside, cringing a little at the loud creak of the door. He was going to get some fresh air and go on a drive around the neighborhood, he needed to clear his head.

Walking towards his car, he looked up at the house and noticed that one room was still all lit up even in the dead of midnight. Yours. Maybe you couldn’t fall asleep either, thinking about what happened.

He shouldn’t be thinking about throwing a small pebble at your window, but he couldn’t help it. There was a lot unsaid between the two of you. So…he threw a pebble.

With a huff, you got out of your bed to investigate what had dragged your attention from your phone. It wasn’t rare for you to hear a noise outside, but to have such a distinct sound against your window? You just wanted to be safe.

Leon saw you brush your curtain to the side, looking around before peering at him.

He felt small for some reason and motioned for you to come over, he didn’t want to yell in the middle of the quiet neighborhood. Leon leaned against the side of his car as he waited for you.

His hands felt clammy.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” You asked. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah, I needed some fresh air. Wanna go for a drive around the neighborhood?”

“You don’t even need to ask…I can finally call shotgun.”

Leon snorted at that. He had a car during high school and would occasionally give you and your brother rides, but your brother always called shotgun (obviously, since they were best friends), so you were always stuck sitting in the back and listening in to their conversations.

“Yeah, yeah.” He unlocked his car before opening the passenger seat door for you. “In you go.”

“Thanks.”

You put your seatbelt on and then looked around his car as he got in and turned on the ignition, waiting for the car to warm up.

“So,” Leon began, looking over at you with a coy smile. “About the other night…”

God, you had been dying to talk about it. In all honesty, you were internally a little bit upset that your brother had been dragging Leon out of the house, even if that was reasonable considering their friendship. But you knew that what happened wasn’t just a one-time thing, it couldn’t be, and you wouldn’t let it.

“Yeah, uh—” You met his gaze. “ I know you’re worried because of my brother and everything but I really like you, Leon. He cares about you, and he trusts you. I don’t…I don’t think he’d be upset if we ended up together.”

“Are you sure? I really like you too, I just don’t want to ruin anything.”

“Are you kidding? He’d probably be hyped about you being his future brother-in-law.”

“Already thinking about marriage, huh?”

“I—no…shut up.”

With a roll of eyes and a grin, Leon turned his attention to reversing out of the driveway since the car was all ready to go. Yeah, he looked really damn attractive while doing that, you couldn’t resist from looking at his arms. There wasn’t anything interesting to look at outside the windows anyway, you had walked and driven by all these houses practically every day.

“So, what made you like me?”

Leon hummed in thought after you asked him that, he kept his eyes on the road, trying to find a way to sum it all up.

“Well, I remember meeting you for the first time. You were breathtaking and held yourself so well, and I was just kinda standing there not knowing what to say. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, and I remember thinking to myself: no one else has ever made me feel this way after a first impression, you must be the one. It was complicated though, I thought you were off limits, you know…that’s just friend code. And the more and more I came over, the more I fell for you. Everything about you. I just…I dunno. I like you.”

That was his short explanation, he could go ramble for hours about why he liked you, about all the little things you do and say that make him feel like a lovestruck fool.

“The feeling’s mutual…I’ve always wanted to be with you. Like, I can actually be myself and not have to force any conversation. It’s all so natural. I really missed you throughout college.”

Leon was smiling, pearly whites showing as he continued driving.

“We could’ve been high school sweethearts. Y’know…you’re the reason all my relationships failed.” You joked, though, it wasn’t far off from the truth.

“You’re seriously gonna blame me for that?”

“Yeah, you raised my standards way too much.”

“Not my fault.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Not.”

“Is.”

“Not.”

“Is.”

“...”

Leon knew that he would never get the final word, not when it came to you. He gave you the win.

The two of you must’ve driven around for a little over half an hour before Leon parked back onto your driveway.

“Actually, there’s something else on my mind.” You told him, taking in a breath before voicing your thoughts. “You’re moving in what…like a week? So, what does that mean for us?”

If there was one thing Leon was certain about, it was that he wasn’t letting you go. No, he’d gone six long years just pining over you and not making any moves, he’d figure something out.

“We’ll make it work.”

“But you’re going to be busy. I know how important your career is to you, what if I distract you and screw something up.”

He loved that about you, you were so damn considerate.

“Not gonna happen.” He retorted, turning off his ignition before getting out of the car — going over to your side to open it for you.

He walked side by side with you to the front door, and you were still quietly yammering about how worried you were.

“Hey,” his voice was soft as he turned to face you, he cupped his hands around your face. The caring look in his eyes could cure millions. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

With that, he gently kissed you, making all your worries fade instantly. You smiled and then kissed him again, tugging on the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. When you pulled back, you laughed a little before asking:

“My room?”

“Yeah.”

The minute the two of you were inside your bedroom with the door locked, you took the initiative and pushed him onto your bed. God, you adored the way his eyes fixated on you, the way his hand reached out to squeeze your hips as you got settled on top of him and captured his lips into a kiss.

A familiar makeout session, just like last time. The two of you lost track of time. But it was different this time: more steamy, a little more fast-paced — especially with the way Leon was practically squeezing all your curves, unlike last time.

“Mm.” He moaned softly, relishing the taste of your lips. His hand slid down to your ass, kneading the flesh as his breathing grew heavier. He was hard, whimpering every single time he got any friction down there.

He let his lips trail down to your neck, squeezing you a little harder when he heard you gasp.

You just about melted, your hand instinctively going to the back of his head to keep him close — the way his teeth occasionally nipped the sensitive skin was heavenly, it made you shudder and tug on his hair.

Leon was careful to not bruise your skin, just wanting to make you feel good like you made him feel.

“Oh shit, wait.” You got off him for a second, taking a quick moment to turn on some of your music. Not so loud that it would disturb anyone, but just enough to cover up your noises. “Okay…all done.”

You then repositioned yourself again. It was getting hot in the room, your hands reached down to tug your shirt off, no use for it anymore.

Leon swallowed thickly, his eyes roaming across your torso and taking every single feature in. He couldn’t resist from letting his hand wander across your bare skin, watching as goosebumps formed from his mere touch.

“You’re…” He whispered out, looking back into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” You said in return, a grin forming on your face. You reached your hands underneath his shirt. “Can I take yours off?”

Leon nodded mindlessly, he’d let you do just about anything to him. He was getting hot under the collar. He helped you out as you took his shirt off.

You felt a tingle shoot straight down when you saw his body. Pretty. He was pretty. You pressed your hands against his pecs before sliding them down tortuously slow to his abs. Rock hard.

“You’re so muscular now,” you let your fingers trace the lines of his abs.

“Yeah.” Leon’s voice sounded a bit strained. “Police academy will do that to you.”

“I bet.” You leaned down to kiss his torso, littering kisses all over his chest, smiling against his skin whenever you caught onto the subtle incoherent mumbles of encouragement he was voicing out.

“You know what I think?”

“Hm?”

“I think…” you trailed off, your lips reaching his stomach and your hand brushing across the tent that had formed in his pants. “You need some attention down here.”

“Mm…I think you’re right. But uh, are you sure?”

Leon was a bit worried you felt pressured into this. Yeah, it would be great to go further than kissing, but he wanted you to be completely comfortable with it.

“Yeah, I want to make you feel good, if that’s okay with you.”

“It is.”

“Okay, let’s use the traffic light system, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

Leon was breathing heavily, eyes already lidded as he watched you pull down his fly and his jeans.

Your mouth watered, you had thought about this so many times that it was almost embarrassing. You kissed along his bulge, right through the fabric. You could’ve sworn you felt it twitch a little too.

“You’re pretty excited, I haven’t even done much.”

“Oh come on, you already know you drive me insane.”

You laughed and then tugged his boxers down.

Leon hissed, his cock now exposed to your eyes. He thought about this so many times when he tugged one out, but he never imagined he would have felt a little bit self-conscious. Like, what if you thought it was ugly or something?

Quite the contrary. You adored everything about him,

“Light?”

“Green.”

You planted a kiss against his tip, a gesture that made him chuckle breathlessly.

“Seriously?”

“What? I can’t kiss it?”

“No no, you can.”

You continued placing kisses across the length of his cock, all the way down to his balls. Leon groaned, the tips of his ears started to flush. Never in his life did he think he’d get such treatment from you.

“Now you’re just being a tease.”

You could tell he was desperate by the tone of his voice. “There’s a thing called patience, maybe you should learn it.”

He was going to counter your words, but all that left his mouth was a pitiful gasp when you started licking him. The sound went straight to the spot between your legs, you really wanted to palm yourself.

“Better?”

“Yeah…that feels really good.” He placed his hand on the back of your head, practically petting you as you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock. He tilted his head back, jaw slackened as he took shaky and shallow breaths.

His stomach tightened up when you reached the tip, swirling your tongue around the sensitive area before finally sucking him off.

“Oh — Jesus.” He’s so sensitive, not used to having such a pretty pair of lips wrapped around his cock. In an attempt to quiet himself down, he chewed on his bottom lip, but the poor guy couldn’t contain the muffled noises that spilled instead.

You were eager to please, using a hand to stroke the base of his cock and taking the rest into your mouth. The combination had him purring, his head spinning with pure want and affection for you.

His hips involuntarily bucked, catching you off guard as his tip hit the back of your throat. His free hand bunched up the fabric of your bedsheets, he couldn’t think straight, not when you were between his legs like this.

Leon hadn’t felt this way in a while, it was overwhelming. And he could feel his abdomen growing warm. Just a little over a minute and he was already close — this was much better than all his fantasies.

“Wait…I’m almost there.“ He settled his hands on your shoulders. He made the mistake of looking down, the way you were peering at him through your lashes would drive any man insane.

Leon feebly tried to push you away. It’s not because he doesn’t want you to continue, no, he’d say the safe word if that was the case. But the idea of his cum filling your mouth…well, it made him feel a little embarrassed.

You were relentless though, taking him so well in your mouth. You were drooling by now, but that did nothing to stop you, not when you were enamored by the way Leon’s thighs were shaking. You had never been so turned on.

The moment your hand fondled his balls though, he was a goner.

“I’m—” Leon couldn’t finish his sentence, hips bucking against you and stilling as he came in your mouth. His eyes rolled back, and he bit his lip harshly to not let out a window-shattering moan.

You swallowed it all, pulling away to catch your breath and lap at his cock to take any leftovers. Leon was panting at this point, trying to recover from the orgasm you had given him.

“You must have a pretty good diet.” You really had the audacity to say that when Leon was still completely fucked out, barely even registering what you were saying.

“Uh…what—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His cheeks were burning at what you implied: he tasted good.

Leon pawed at you, tugging you up so he could eagerly kiss you. It was sloppy and uncoordinated because of how dazed he was, but you couldn’t care less.

“You did so well,” he praised you, trying to make up for the way you rendered him speechless while sucking him off. “Better than I dreamed of.”

“Trying to flatter me, are you?”

“Oh, c’mon.” He scoffed.

He switched the positions, putting your back on the mattress and settling his hips between your thighs. He was more than ready to make you feel good too.

His hand traveled all over you, across your chest and hardened nipples, across the side of your ribs, squeezed your waist, went down to grab your ass, and then returned to your waistband, fingers tugging at your waistband.

“Can I?”

“Yeah.”

After you lifted your hips to help him take your pants and underwear off, you reached over to open the top drawer of your nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.

Leon was relieved you were prepared, because he certainly hadn’t packed any of that for his visit, he didn’t think this would happen.

“Here, let me…” He reached for the bottle.

He put some lube on his middle and index fingers before reaching his hand back between your legs, teasing your hole a bit before very slowly sinking them in. You inhaled sharply at the coldness of it, letting out that same breath in the form of a moan.

“Is this okay?” Leon asked you, eyes watching your facial reactions to make sure the motion of his fingers weren’t causing you any discomfort. He was a little insecure of them, his training had roughened them up a bit.

“Mhm. Keep going.”

He did just that, continuing to dip them in until you eased up and they fit inside nice and snug.

He looked back down, letting out a quiet ‘oh fuck’ when you started bucking your hips up to meet his touch. God, he was so horny even after his climax, his cock beginning to harden up again.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he muttered, fingering you at a gentle pace, he swallowed the saliva that built up in his mouth at the thought of being inside you.

“I can, I think we’re made for each other.”

The way you managed a smile while letting out the prettiest noises stirred up many emotions in him. He liked the vulnerability of this moment, just two people who liked each other being intimate and connecting.

“Well, I do too. Just…I dunno.” He fell silent, his gaze returning to your face and watching as it contorted into one of pleasure when he angled and curled his fingers just right.

“Right there?”

You nodded, reaching your hand down to hover it over the one he was using. “Yeah. Fuck…just like that.”

The wet sounds of his slick fingers sliding in and out of you were driving him insane, and a string of curse words left his lips. “You sound so good.”

Each flick of his wrist had you squirming around, your bed sheets wrinkling and getting all messed up. Some of the lube spilled down your thighs, you’d need to wash your sheets after this.

Leon kept going until you came, feeling his cock come fully to life at the way you moaned and spilled his name.

“Leon…” Your fingers dug into his forearms, feeling his muscles flex as he coaxed you through your orgasm. His eyes were glued to your face, biting his lip at the way your pretty eyes rolled back. He pulled his fingers out when your legs closed together in response to the overwhelming presence.

“Holy shit,” you sighed when you regained your senses, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His lips tugged into a smile, he looked pretty proud of himself. “Felt good?”

“Better than good, but…”

“But?”

“I want more.”

“More as in…?”

Could he be more dense?

“I want you inside me.”

“Oh. Right.”

His cheeks turned red, well, redder than they already were. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Do you wanna be on top or?”

You gave it some thought, reaching over for the unopened condom — there was time for both, but to start, you wanted to ride him.

“I’ll be on top.”

With the repositions all done, you straddled his hips, tearing open the condom packet. Your heart was hammering like crazy, one of your dreams was about to come true. It wasn’t just about sexual pleasure, this was the man you had liked for literal years.

Leon noticed that you seemed to be pensive while putting the condom on him. His hands settled on your hips, thumbs rubbing about the flesh.

“What are you thinking about? Talk to me.”

His caring voice pulled you from your thoughts, you shook your head and smiled.

“Just about how long I’ve wanted this. You know, being with you. I’m really happy.”

God, he adored you. “Me too.”

You aligned yourself with his cock, “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

You curled your fingers around the base of his cock to keep it stable before slowly sinking onto him. You felt the air escape from your lungs. Your jaw slackened and you let out a silent moan until you took all of him in.

“You’re going to be the death of me…” Leon gritted out. “Fuck, I didn’t think it would feel this good. You okay?”

You nodded, feeling full, the curve of your ass was against his balls. “Yeah, I think the foreplay really helped. I’m gonna start moving now.”

You put your hands against his chest and began riding him. Leon groaned in pleasure, his hands kneading your ass and helping you roll your hips. He felt bad that his fingers were digging into your skin but he couldn’t help it.

“Ah…Leon.”

Your mewls made his cock twitch inside you, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull.

He looked so pretty underneath you — his hair splayed out, a thin layer of sweat over his muscular torso, the baby blue part of his eyes almost covered now by his dilated pupils. So pretty.

Leon couldn’t take his eyes off you, not even if they threatened to shut from the way you were working him. No, they were all over you — watching the way your eyebrows were furrowed, the heave of your chest from your inconsistent breathing, how your eyes seemed glossy whenever they met his.

He reached his hand over to your chest, fingers gently pulling at one of your nipples. God, you rutted against him a bit faster at that, making him hiss and trash his head against your pillows. “Jesus…”

“Come on, say my name instead. I’m tired of hearing his.”

He laughed at that, wondering how you could even think of that at this moment. Because personally? He couldn’t come up with any banter, not with the way you were on top of him, turning a fantasy of his into a reality.

“Mm, just like that…it’s yours, all yours. I’m yours.”

Did he know how hot that was? You practically groaned just by hearing him say that. Leon thrust up to meet your hips, not missing the hiccup of your breath or the way your body almost gave out from the abrupt movement.

Honestly…having you underneath him didn’t sound all that bad right now. “Wanna switch?”

You paused your movements and nodded, happy that he asked — being on top was pretty tiring, and you knew he had the strength for it. You pulled yourself off his cock, you weren’t all that sure what he had in mind but you were eager nonetheless.

“Go for it.”

“Okay, just…” He gently maneuvered you to your back with ease. “There.”

“Show me that stamina of yours.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing you were referencing his training. “That’s going to be a little tough with you underneath me.”

He sat back on his knees and stroked himself, his eyes raking your form.

Watching him jerk himself off was hot, you could watch it all night…but, there’s always a next time. Right now? All you wanted was the intimacy of having him inside you again.

Leon bit his lip as he rubbed the head of his cock against your hole, he looked back up at you, he knew there was no way in hell he would last long. But he wasn’t embarrassed over it, he’d been waiting years, it was only natural.

Leon reached to hold one of your hands, keeping his other one on his cock to guide himself in. He took a deep breath, his stomach muscles clenching a little as he managed to get the tip in. “God…I’m definitely not gonna last in this position.”

“You’re not evenfully in yet.” You were breathless though, mind swirling at just the tip. You tried to steady your breathing and relax so he could fit without difficulty.

He laughed at that. “Yeah, yeah.”

A synchronous moan left both of you when he eventually bottomed out against you, taking a moment to get used to the feeling. He leaned down to kiss you, his hair dangling and brushing against your forehead in the process.

He hoisted your ankles over his shoulder and planted his hands beside your head, practically folding your knees to your chest. He didn’t miss the way he got hit with some of your usual fragrance, clearly, you had put some on either the back of your knees or your ankles…he wasn’t sure which one.

“Were you…anticipating this?”

“...What?” You sounded so fucked out and he wanted to laugh.

He chuckled. “Nothing.”

He chose to keep his newfound knowledge to himself for now. He kissed your somewhat sweaty forehead before starting a rhythm with his hips. Your walls were squeezing him, making him a panting mess against the shell of your ear.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it whenever one of his thrusts hit deeper than the others.

His hand found your free one, interlacing his fingers with yours. He sighed contentedly at the way you immediately squeezed his hand. He liked this, being close to you.

“Leon…” You moaned his name out, making a jolt of electricity shoot straight through all his nerves. His thrusts got faster, the sound of skin-to-skin contact intermingling with the light music playing in your room.

“Feeling good? Yeah, you’re taking it so well…I’m gonna be thinking about this for months.” He murmured the praise against your skin, kissing your ear before making his way down your neck.

Your reaction was immediate, clenching down on him and gasping, nails digging into his scalp. Hearing such praise come from Leon? God, it drove you insane.

Leon grunted, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your neck like a starved man. He could tell you were close, and he wanted to bring you over the edge of ecstasy — to coax an orgasm out of you before he spilled into his condom.

“I’m close…” you mumbled out, your eyes fluttering shut as you gave into the feeling, Leon was taking the lead, you didn’t have to worry about a single thing.

“I know,” he met your lips for a kiss, grunting and whimpering into your mouth with each snap of his hips. “Me too.”

He kept his pace the same, knowing it was getting you to approach your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” his words were quiet, a little high pitched too, he could feel you holding his hand so tight that your fingers were leaving indents against the back of it.

“Please,” Leon pleaded. “Come on my cock…I need it.”

Your body started feeling tingly, your back arching and your hips trying to buck against him in pursuit of the feeling. You were right there.

“Leon! Leon…” Your head tipped back into your pillow. “I’m coming.”

He felt you squeeze him, your body trembling and twitching against him as he continued thrusting against you in your moment of bliss. But he didn’t last either, hips stuttering when he came inside the condom, feeling his cock get all warm from it.

“Oh…” Leon let out a guttural groan, followed by some whimpers of your name as he stilled inside you — slumping his body against yours, burying his head against your shoulder, and sloppily kissing the area.

The two of you stayed like that until you recomposed yourselves, your breathing pattern returning to normal. Leon mustered up the strength to prop himself back up, pulling out of you with a with a small whimper.

“Hey,” he whispered, a grin on his face as he kissed your cheek.

“Hey yourself.” You told him back, watching as he got up with a noise of complaint to take off the condom and throw it into the trash can.

“Come back here,” you laughed out, extending your arms for him.

“I am, I just didn’t wanna make a mess on your bed.” He came back over, laying down on his side and pulling you close.

“You already did, doofus.”

You turned to your side too. You could deal with the mess on your bedsheets later.

Leon held you close, slowly running his fingertips along your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed the top of your head and stayed like that for a few minutes. Just in each other's arms — letting your bodies calm down after the rush of pleasure and overwhelming emotion.

Leon’s body felt warm to the touch, he would make a really good blanket, a personal heater. You rubbed your hands across his shoulder blades, occasionally letting your nails scratch the skin lightly.

“How are you feeling?” Leon asked, reaching a hand to cup the side of your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone.

“I feel really good,” you murmured, a lazy smile on your face, still feeling a rush of affection for him after the moment ended. “Everything about this feels perfect, I am a little sleepy though. You?”

“Same here.” He returned the sentiment, internally giddy about how everything had unfolded in the last few days. He couldn’t resist kissing you — just a sweet and simple one before pulling back.

“Need anything? A cup of water or something?”

Now that you think about it, your mouth feels kinda dry.

“Maybe a glass of water?”

“Mm,” Leon nodded. “Got it, I’ll be back.”

He kissed your forehead and then got up, putting on his boxers and pants (despite how uncomfortably sticky it felt) and quietly headed downstairs to grab two glasses of water and a small snack too — he knew his way around the house, so it was no big deal.

You wanted his body warmth again, rolling over to the side of the bed that he had been on to feel it once more.

Eventually, you heard the door creak open — revealing Leon, who had a sweet smile on his face as he shut it. He set down a bowl of fruit on your nightstand and then sat on your bed, handing you the glass of water you requested

“Miss me?” You asked, teasingly. You sat up.

“Oh yeah, big time.”

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He brought his cup of water to his lips, letting out a refreshed sigh after taking some gulps. You had him moaning and panting so much that he was sure his lips would get all chapped.

Leon gently coaxed your legs over his extended ones, caressing them.

“So…” Leon cleared his throat, “I never properly asked.”

“Asked what?”

He had a hopeful look in his eyes, a goofy grin on his face as he asked:

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x gn!reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

996 notes · View notes

anemicjellyfish · 2 months

Text

Blitzø's struggle with the Asmodean Crystal

On the lighter side, it could have just been a joke. This could also have taken place before Apology Tour, since Blitzø has no issue using the Crystal to transport both himself and the IMP van through portals.

After one full season, and part way through the second, we have been led to believe that Blitzø is actually good in bed. A party-house packed with Succubi managed to get emotionally attached, so I'm having a hard time believing that Blitzø's game is in any way lacking, contrary to Verosika's song at Ozzie's.

My Theory?

I've had it floating in my head since Full Moon that Blitzø could have performance issues after Stolas cut things off. (Do I have a half-baked fanfic on what's basically erectile disfunction hurt/comfort, post-Apology Tour? Yeah, but like that's not relevant.)

Blitzø is afraid of being in love. He has a lot of emotional baggage and trauma when it comes to love. And the Crystal is picking up on the fact that Blitzø is struggling internally with balancing sexual desire and emotional needs.

It's obvious to us early on that Blitzø has feelings for Stolas. But feelings make things complicated for Blitzø. Anytime anyone gets close enough to have feelings for him, Blitzø pushes them away and bails.

He's been able to live in denial for some time now, but Stolas' confession in Full Moon made it impossible to continue pretending it was just about sex.

Blitzø had been using sex as work in his transactional relationship with Stolas. He's aware that showing Stolas a very good time is the exact thing he needs to do in order to keep using the Grimoire to keep his business running. And Blitzø knows how to do that.

Blitzø really had the fight knocked out of him in Apology Tour, after barely recovering from the emotional gut-punch that he got in Full Moon.

He's had to confront a lot of the parts of himself that he's been covering up and masking; he's growing emotionally, but that growth is leaving his heart raw and hurting.

But I think what's most important is that Blitzø has never had sex with someone he's in love with, and have it just be about love. He couldn't be honest enough with himself to admit he loves Stolas before; all their prior sex nights were work for Blitzø.

So when sex is no longer work or fun, but it's now love... how does someone like emotionally-stunted Blitzø even go about it?

Awkwardly, that's how.

#helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss blitzø #im still convinced it was just a joke and wasnt a serious indication that Blitzø has no oral game #i have a contradiction post to this too btw. playing both sides so i always come out on top.

283 notes · View notes

amuyyi · 27 days

Text

she wants me (to be loved) .

synopsis; you have always loved huh yunjin, but not in the way she loved you.

trope; huh yunjin x f!reader, angst, unrequited (?) love, bittersweet ending

wc; 4.6k

cw; idk like one cuss word LMAO

a/n; i swear im still in forever writers block but THIS FIC IS INSPIRED BY THE SHE WANTS ME TO BE LOVED WARRIOR CATS AMV ON YOUTUBE ITS ABOUT BLUEFUR AND THRUSHPELT PLEEEEK WATCH IT AND/OR LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING IM JUST SO ARRGGHHH also its almost 4 am i am half asleep i just realllyy wanted to finish this. also i used to be a theatre kid so.

You have always loved Huh Yunjin. But not in the way she loved you.

You recall very vividly the first day you met her.

It was the middle of freshman year of high school, and you had just moved into New York from out of state. Your father had just gotten a new job opportunity, and practically wasted no time packing all of your things to move in the middle of the school year. Perfect. New place, new faces, and definitely no friends. Everything an emotional teenage girl needed in a cruical stage of her development. All of the other students in your classes were nice enough, but everyone already had their established friend groups by now, and you simply didn't fit what they were looking for.

Despite the different environment, there was one thing that this school provided that provided some sort of familiarity.

Theater.

Back in middle school and for the brief semester you had in your old high school, you had always been a fan of the big stage. The music, the dramatics, the acting… It was all so whimsical and alluring to you. How could you not get involved?

(Okay, honestly.. You had gotten really into musical theater in middle school once you found a Hamilton animatic and it became your sole personality trait for a good two years or so–)

Unfortunately, you were too much of a coward to truly put yourself out there like the actors around you. High school insecurities and poor self esteem truly did take its toll on you back then. So instead, you settled for being part of the stage crew.

You thought that getting involved with a club would make it easier for you to socialize and make friends. You could join a community. Yet somehow, it made everything all the more difficult.

Everybody seemed to already know each other and have their own established friends. On top of that, everyone also seemed to know who they hated as well. You would always overhear what other actors and techies would say about one another and it only just put you off from making friends even more. The whole environment was incredible… cliquey.

Still, you had nothing else better to do, so you stayed. It was… Fine. You still had no real friends, but you did enjoy doing various tasks around the stage. Working with stage lights, helping prepare costumes, painting backdrops. It keeps you busy. It was routine.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to walk in on actors practicing their lines or their songs backstage. Back home, you knew everyone involved within the production– including the actors. You would always compliment them and occasionally even provide help whenever you didn’t have your own techy jobs to fulfill. The main problem? This isn't home. Nobody here was your friend.

But when you found a pretty girl practicing for this semester's production of Phantom of The Opera in an empty hallway, you couldn't help but stop in your tracks and stare. You’ve never seen her before. Well, it's not like you bothered to pay much attention to the people around you anymore— but you feel like you wouldn't miss a face like hers.

She had the prettiest brown hair with highlights and the cutest beauty mark near the corner of her mouth. She was pacing around the hall, script in hand as she did various vocal exercises. The sound of her voice echoes off the walls, and it was just as angelic as she looked.

“Prima Donna, your song shall live again…!” She sings out, her voice at a steady yet powerful vibrato throughout her verse. Her Bel Canto was skilled and practiced, and you can't help but wonder how long she’s been doing this for. Surely she’s overqualified for a simple high school production? You needed to hear more…

She moves her hands in elegant and dramatic forms as she immerses herself into the self-centered character of Carlotta. She played the roke perfectly, considering how most definitely had your attention now.

“You took a snub, but theres a public who needs you, think of the cr—“

A loud thud rings throughout the hallway, startling the mystery opera singer as well as yourself. Shit. You look down and see the culprit. Well, it was you. you caused the interruption— but more specifically, it was a freshly decapitated mannequin head with a wig you were going to more securely attach to the top. It was a bit of a horrific sight, in all honesty.

Now that you think about it, this prop might actually be for her. Though you didn't have much time to ponder that thought considering the mysterious brown haired beauty has now caught you eavesdropping on her singing.

The head rolls across the tile floor and lands at her feet. You feel your face warm to what was most likely a bright tomato red as she picks it up by its shortened neck, the wig threatening to fall off as it dangles limply off of the top of its head.

“I'm assuming this is yours?” She smiles kindly at you, though a bit wary. Understandable, really. You would be wary of yourself too if you were in her shoes.

“Y-Yeah, sorry…” you nervously laugh, taking the head from her hands as you try to pat the wig back into place.

“You sounded good, by the way!” You quickly stammer out, absentmindedly hugging the head to your chest, “Like… really good. Seriously.”

The mystery girl laughs at your flustered words, and she waves her hand dismissively. Her cheeks warm bashfully as she shakes her head.

“Thanks but… I have a lot to work on. My tones off, and I still need to memorize these lines by tomorrow…” she trails off, moving to press her back against the wall, sliding and sitting down on the floor.

Fiddling a bit with the mannequin head, you don't allow yourself to think too hard before you suddenly blurt out.

“I-I can help!”

You watch as her pretty brown eyes widen slightly, and

“Really? You sure you arent too busy?

You were actually quite busy, but she didnt have to know that.

“Of course not,” you lie confidently, sticking a hand out, “I’m y/n.”

She eyes your hand curiously, but ultimately shakes it, “Yunjin. Jennifer, if you’d like.”

From then on, you would spend every other day after school with Yunjin, helping her recite her lines, fitting her for costume changes, and even finishing that mannequin head prop for her.

Soon after, your after school hangouts turned into out of school hangouts and then eventual sleepovers every weekend. You learned everything possible about Yunjin. Like how she had always dreamed of being a performer, how she wanted to make it big in the Kpop industry, how she loves snakes…

Since then, you knew you loved her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

On one seemingly normal spring afternoon, you were abruptly torn away from your sunkissed siesta with the sound of your door being kicked open.

With the growing bond between you and Yunjin, you made the mistake of giving the girl a spare key to your own home. (Oddly enough, your parents werent against the idea. They considered Yunjin like a second daughter.)

You whine out as she grasps at your half asleep form, shaking you aggressively.

“I got accepted into a company, y/n!! I'm gonna be a trainee!”

Eyes shooting open, you try to sit up through the aggressive grip Yunjin had on you.

“No kidding?” You croak out, looking at her with disbelief.

“I'm not!” She cheers, bouncing happily through your bedroom. Trying to match her energy through the grogginess, you slip out of bed, stumbling a bit as you tumble into her arms. Yunjin laughs at your state, wrapping her arms around your waist to keep you steady as she jumps excitedly.

“I’m going to move back to Korea next month— this is so exciting!!” She squeals out, and your smile falters ever so slightly. Move? To Korea?

Still, you bite back the sickly feeling developing in your stomach as you squeal alongside her.

You were happy for her, and did nothing but support her all throughout her time in Korea. Called her every night after training, sent her pictures of school life without her, even voting for her in that odd survival show she participated in. You did anything and everything you could to be the best friend you could be.

Yunjin always had the stars in her eyes. But in yours? There was only ever her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The day that everything truly changed is still fresh in your mind.

After spending years chasing after Yunjin, it feels like you have finally caught up to her. She's back in the states after her time in Korea, and she's planning on staying. She looked a little different than before, but it was the same old Jennifer you knew and loved— even when missing a few moles and deeper eyebags.

Upon her arrival back home, it was like no time had passed. Once again attached at the hip, as it should be. You practically made it your job to crawl into her skin at any given moment and to pamper her with all of her favorite things.

You would treat her to meals, spontaneous shopping sprees, and simple girls nights out. All of the good stuff to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, your attempts to keep your best friend happy came with their own obstacles. you would occasionally find advertisements or clips of idols that would show up during your time together, and for just a brief moment, you would see that usual spark within Yunjin’s eyes falter. It was a stark reminder of what she could have had.

It hurt you to see her get reminded of her time as a trainee. It truly was everything she wanted and more. But it was okay, you were here now, and you weren't planning on letting her go this time.

You’d drop any and everything for Yunjin. You allowed her to vent whenever she needed, to come over whenever she wanted, and to indulge in spontaneous late night meals whenever you two felt like it.

Needless to say, your wallet was crying by the time summer was nearing its end, but you didn’t mind at all. Yunjin was back. She was happy. You were happy. Things were finally returning to normal.

The two of you decide on a college to attend together in Boston, both pursuing a major in business. It's neither of your first choices in majors, but it's a good enough money maker in the long run.

The pair of you sat in Yunjins bedroom, with you comfortably propped up against her bedframe on the floor whilst the brunette lay comfortably on the mattress. You hugged the djungelskog plushie you had gifted Yunjin some birthday ago close to your chest as you atared at your phone, with Yunjin crunching away on cheez-its as the entire La La Land soundtrack softly plays from the record player in the corner of the room.

Its nearly less than a month until move in day at Boston University, and you feel beyond giddy. Actual independence? And spending it with your best friend slash secret crush? Your dreams were coming true. Looking through your college dorms on the website, the pair of you converse about the future.

“What kind of theme do you think we should go for our dorm?” you ask, leaning your head against the bed to look up at Yunjin, who was still crunching away contentedly at her snacks.

“I'm not sure… But I do know I want to cover my wall with all of my posters…”

“Ooh! Yeah!! I can add fake flowers on the walls…”

“ Of course, we need a bit of girlish charm— oh! we need to make room for a record player and my guitar.”

“Google maps says there's a 7-eleven near the campus…” you murmur, your short attention prompting you to immediately shift to another topic.

“ Should we go got late night snack runs?”

“Duh.”

“Or maybe if we get tired of the dorm food, we can get equally as crappy convenience store food for instead–”

Suddenly, the music from Yunjin’s phone gets cut off, being replaced with her ringtone (it was Come Inside Of My Heart by IV of Spades ) as she huffs.

“ sorry, hold that thought..” She murmurs, answering the call.

You didn't know any Korean, the only bits you’re familiar with are the phrases Yunjin taught you to talk with her parents (which you also butchered) so you naturally begin to tune out whatever she begins to say on her end. Despite this though, you easily pick up on the shift in tone as she speaks. Professionalism, skepticism, to Shock. That was all you could read off of Yunjin as you looked up from your phone, curiously glancing at her. Her eyes were boggling out of her skull, and she placed a hand over her mouth before ending the call.

The brunette remains frozen in place, hand still over her mouth as a silence passes over the room.

“So….?” You ask, crawling up onto the bed to sit next to her.

Yunjin’s voice is shaky, yet laced with a twinge of excitement and disbelief as she speaks, “I just got a call from Hybe. I… I have the chance to debut.”

You don’t know what came over you at that moment. It felt like the world came collapsing down on you. Right now, you should be happy. Jumping for joy, focusing all on Yunjin and her chance for success. She's been given a real chance to make her dreams come true, even after it seemed impossible, even after all the years of rejection and work. This was all she wanted in life and more— you should be happy? Right?

But you’ve always been a selfish person. Or maybe you convinced yourself you were ever since that day. You don’t know. Maybe in that moment, you realized you could lose everything you’ve been waiting for. You’d lose the girl you've chased after for so many years now. If you didn't do something now, you wouldn’t have the chance to do it ever again. You were a greedy person, so you confess.

“Yunjin, I love you. I always have.”

The words feel like a slap to the face, and it shows. It shows in the way her eyes widen and smile falls. This was a bad idea, but you can't back out now. Your eyes begin to water as your voice cracks.

“I… I don’t want you to go— to leave me…” you choke out, “What about uni? Our dorm? What am I going to do without you?”

You knew you were being manipulative, you knew you were being selfish. But you didn’t care. You wanted her to know how you truly felt. You didn’t want her to leave you, not again. Your heart couldn’t handle it.

Through tears threatening to spill out, you can see her cheeks slowly dust a faint shade of pink as she processes your words. She seems… hesitant. Over what? You weren’t too sure. You weren’t too sure if you even wanted to know.

The silence that washes over the two of you is beyond suffocating. You feel like you’re drowning, digging your nails into your palms as you look away. If you looked at her, you were scared you’d break, and the tears would begin to flow. After a few moments that feel like hours, she finally responds.

“I believe you have feelings for me…” she begins, voice soft yet strained. For some reason, those words leave a bad feeling in your gut. You muster up enough courage to meet her gaze. She looked just as hurt and conflicted as you felt. Yunjins grip on her phone tightens as she takes a deep breath, continuing, “...but I can’t give this up, y/n. It's my dream.”

That was the moment you knew you truly lost her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In another life, you and Yunjin would be at Boston University together, pursuing that business degree that neither of you want.

It's a dream that used to occasionally return to you when Yunjin was overseas. Every now and then, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, and you’d check Yunjins location. She’d still be in Seoul. It was okay though, because you knew she’d always come back. She always came back. Now it haunts you every other night.

The dream is always so incredibly vivid and real. You would wake up to Yunjins many alarms that she somehow manages to sleep through every single time, and you’d peel your eyes opened to your shared dorm room. Though you didn’t have much time to admire the beauty of it all through the sound of an alarm continuously dragging you out of your slumber. She’s always been a heavy sleeper. you’d have to jump on Yunjins sleeping form to even stir her into some form of consciousness.

Yunjin groaned in protest, but you knew her. She wasn’t truly bothered, not when it came to you. Instead of entertaining your futile attempts to wake her up, she would wrap her arm around your waist, dragging you down with her as you squeal out.

She's warm. Her brown bobbed hair has grown out by now, black roots peeking through the top of her head as you join the mess that is her bed (and hair.) She smells like vanilla and wood, and you can't help but laugh into her embrace. You’ll be late to the dining hall for breakfast, but it doesn't really matter. There was a 7-eleven nearby that could provide breakfast while the two of you rushed to your classes– in which you had meticulously planned to have almost every single class together.

After a long day of school, you would return back to your dorm both collapsing on your respective beds as exhaustion settles in. It was decorated just the way you two liked it. With both boy and girl band posters littering the walls alongside some fake vines, flowers, and a multitude of polaroids you two have accumulated over the years.

Once the two of you move out of the dorms and graduate, you’d find an apartment to share. Dual income and no children, that was the way to live. Alongside a cat and a dog, of course. You’d have a black cat named Binx, and a golden retriever named Dug, something you two had discussed many times before.

It’s beyond perfect. You lay on the couch, comfortably in Yunjins arms as a blanket is lazily draped over your forms. Binx is settled upon your lap as Dug takes up the space on the rug. The tv is playing Coraline— a staple movie for you two, and you'd smile. Yunjin would lovingly return the grin, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

And then you’d wake up, the grim reality of your situation compared to your dream sending tears flowing down your cheeks. You’re constantly reminded how Yunjin wasn't yours. Not in this lifetime. And it hurt more than anything else.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You’ve always been there for Yunjin, both before and after she became famous.

In High school, you of course supported her throughout your brief time in the drama club. But you also provided a shoulder to cry on, a free source of math homework answers, a friend.

When she moved back to Korea to become a trainee, you helped her through the rough patches. Hours of dance training, rigorous workouts, and unhealthy dieting took a toll on her. But you were always there through the phone, no matter the time.

Even after her debut, you remained loyally by her side. Yunjin grew busier and more distant over the years, and it was understandable. You were busy too. With college, internships, and general “adulting,” it was a challenge to remain in contact. Still, when you two did find time to talk, Yunjin would tell you stories of her members, of the rumors and scandals that would plague the group. It hurt to see her hurting, especially knowing you couldn't be there for her like before. But you were glad to see her achieving all she wanted and more.

You hop into one of Yunjins late night livestreams (even if it was the morning for you.) It wasn’t like you couldn’t just call her whenever you wanted, but it was just another one of the little things you would do to continuously support your friend. Yunjin never made a scene whenever you popped in, but always made sure to look for your comments and read them out every single time.

“Sing something from Phantom or you’re lame?” She reads out, a soft laugh slipping past her lips as she does so.

The idol gives the camera a knowing look, one that only could be read by you, and you smile as she clears her throat. Phantom of the Opera is what brought you two together, after all. She spends a few minutes doing short vocal exercises to warm up her voice, and the sight is oddly nostalgic. Yunjin then sits up straight as she begins to sing, and you feel your heart twinge slightly at her song choice.

“Think of me,

Think of me fondly,

When we've said goodbye.

Remember me,

Once in a while,

Please promise me you'll try.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Now here you were, in a completely foreign country, placed in more than accommodating seats within the VIP section of this unfamiliar venue you’ve never even heard of before. There were hordes of men around you, all cheering in a deep voiced mass for the girls on stage. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet, there was Yunjin. You watch her, shining brightly on stage whilst donning a fresh head of bright orange hair. It suited her. Her fiery passion, her fierce determination that got her here in the first place, her glowing smile. It was all only a physical expression of who she was on the inside.

Yunjin had insisted on getting you these tickets– even going out of her way to even cover part of your plane ticket here despite you having a very stable and office job now. You tried to tell her you were happy enough to see her from the nosebleed seats in the back, especially since it was all you could afford on such short notice. But she refused, pulling some strings to give you the best seats possible. She wanted you here. More than anyone else.

You’ve seen Yunjin perform before. How could you not? You could vividly recall the way she would sing out and capture the entire crowd’s attention from the stage of your high school’s auditorium. How she would perform with such confidence and precision, how she performed like she was made for this.

Things have changed a lot since then. There was no business college in your future together anymore. No planned dorms together. No more late night talks. No 7-eleven snack runs. Yet oddly enough, despite the changes, this was seemingly no different than before. Every person in the crowd was entranced, immediately allured by her natural charm and her passionate voice. You included. Just like those many years before, she still managed to have you bewitched on the sidelines while she chases after the spotlight.

So you cheer. Joining the roaring crowd as you call out Yunjins name, a bright smile playing on your lips as you do so. You’ve always been her biggest fan, after all. You swear you saw her make eye contact with you, seemingly providing her an energy boost as she sings out to the audience. She was beautiful, and she knew it.

Once the show is over, you find your way to the backstage area. You tried your best to explain to the security how you were friends with one of the members, and how she invited you back there. Unfortunately, your Korean was less than conversational, and you pretty much looked like an embarrassingly desperate and obsessive fan until Chaewon came and saved the day.

“y/n-nnie! Come, Come!! I saw you in the crowd!!” She chirps out sweetly, abruptly pushing past the guard and dragging you backstage, leaving the security both confused and a bit exhausted. This might not have been the first time the girls have tried to meet with their friends after performances.

There were people everywhere. Stage hands, stylists, makeup artists, and more, all rushing around you two and occasionally praising Chaewon. You felt beyond out of place, and probably looked the part too. Despite having Yunjin as a friend, you’ve never once felt like you were friends with a celebrity. She was simply your Jennifer, and that was more than enough. Being here though, you could truly see the extent of the impact she had on people. How so many people respected her and admired her.

Lost within your thoughts and observations of the crowd, you barely notice when Chaewon lets go of your arm, leaving you to fall victim to a bright orange mass stampeding your way. Without warning, you’re tackled into a hug by none other than Yunjin herself. You swear you see stars as the air gets forced out of your lungs.

“y/n!! You made it!!” She beams, giving you a firm squeeze pulling away to fully take in the sight of you. Her arms are still firmly wrapped around your form as her eyes almost sparkled with pure affection for you. Your cheeks warm at the contact, and you can't help but shyly avoid her gaze. Even after all of this time, she still has the same effect on you. After letting out a soft breath, she quietly murmurs, “I was singing for you, y’know.”

And your heart aches. Aches for what you two could have had. Aches for feelings she chooses not to reciprocate. You want to be angry with her. Despise her for leaving you behind and living this luxurious celebrity life.

Yet your heart also swells. Swells with pure affection for the girl you love. The way she holds you, how she insists on having you attend, how sweetly she says your name. All of it makes you crumble all too easily. She truly cares for you, and never let the fame change that. You truly were lucky to have her.

“Really, now? You sure you weren't singing for the sea of men you forced me to sit with?” You laugh out, gently shoving her, “I swear I heard a guy say he ditched a family dinner to be there.”

Yunjin loudly laughs at your comment as she shakes her head, “How about you come over to our dorms to celebrate tonight, yeah? We’ll even let you pick a movie – or I’ll make them watch whatever you choose… Please?”

You were a bit hesitant. These were Yunjin’s friends. You didn’t want to intrude, especially after a crazy night like this. Yet, despite your reluctance, Yunjin stares down at you with those damn puppy eyes, and somehow manages to get Eunchae and Chaewon to join in…

“... Okay, fine,” you groan out, feigning disappointment as you see Yunjins eyes light up. “but we’re watching Coraline.”

The girls all cheer and pull you into a tight hug, with Yunjin holding onto you just a bit tighter than the others.

Huh Yunjin loves you. But not in the way you want. Yunjin wants you to be loved.

And loved you are, even if it means she can't be yours.

#kpop fanfic #gg fanfic #kpop #kpop x female reader #gxg #kpop gg #kpop x fem reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #wlw #gxg imagine #yunjin x female reader #Spotify

236 notes · View notes

mayghosts · 2 months

Note

Hi! 🎉 Could you write a fanfic with KK harvey? The song could be hurt my feelings by Tate McRae. Some tropes I had in mind are enemies to lovers, sports rivals, forced proximity. They could get all up in each other’s face on the ice and be so mad and play rough with each other and then confront each other in the locker room when everyone’s left and it ends up angsty with them getting all close again and LOTS! of teasing as well. IDK just an idea I had it would be lovely if you wrote it !!🙂‍↕️

HURT MY FEELINGS

SUMMARY: request!!! Reader plays for Minnesota and has a long running rivalry with Wisconsin player KK Harvey. (Brad Frost is Minnesota head coach)

WARNINGS: head injuries, fighting, slightly explicit

AN: kicking off the 500 celebration with a bang!! I hope this is everything you wanted and more 🫶

YOUR POV

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as the crowd seemingly got louder by the minute. You knew this game was going to be crowded, you just weren't expecting it to be this packed. Pressing your lips together, you looked at the girl positioned across from you. Blonde curls peaking out from the bottom of her helmet, the number four plastered across her back. You felt your adrenaline spike harder when she made eye contact with you again.

Glancing into the crowd, you immediately spotted her. Fling or girlfriend, you weren't sure, all you knew was that KK was fucking her. Wearing an official team jacket, you watched as she cheered from behind the glass. This only made your blood boil, you blamed it on your general hatred of the girl. You readjusted your grip on your stick before the whistle blew.

Brad always told you that you don't have to prove anything to anyone. That you “play best when you’re unattached.” However, Brad has never had a long running rivalry with someone who always gets to be the good guy in the eyes of the media. He also has never had multitudes of fan edits made about the “sexual tension” between him and his rival during the last game they played together. Brad is not rivals with KK Harvey.

So you took Brads words in one ear and out the other. Every other game this season, you swore to yourself that you would keep your emotions under wrap. Play as the machine you were scouted to be. The quick, calculated, and cold player the media raved over in articles. However, today was different, and it barely counted anyways. Just another pre-season game.

The puck went to Wisconsin first. The first period was mainly uneventful. You avoided KK, letting the rage simmer in your stomach. However you could feel your disposition slipping as you entered the second period. This girl Claire had been all over you. Constantly bumping and trailing you, giving you no space, you let it slide during the first period. But with Wisconsin pulling ahead at the start of the second, your patience was wearing thin.

You could tell Brad wasn’t pleased with your perfromamce this game either, especially this period. Changing plays last minute, pulling dramatic stunts to try and dirch Claire. He knew you weren't playing how he wanted, you knew you were benched if you didn’t close the growing point gap.

You rocketed down the ice, keeping the puck close to you before firing it to your center Taylor. A perfect pass, you watched as she fired it into the net. A perfect goal. Brad would like that. You kept your speed, as you went to circle behind the net.

The collision was hard. You heard it before you felt it. Claire had come fast from the other side of the net, smashing you into the boards. Your head hit the plexiglass hard. Crumbling to the ground you landed on all fours, your vision blurred as you felt hot blood stream out of your nose.

The arena silenced at the blow of the whistle. Claire stood frozen in front of you. You stood fast, dropping you stick, before ramming your fist against her face cage.

Immediately everything swarmed. The crowd was on their feet, yelling anything and everything. KK was immediately on you, roughly pulling you off Claire as you yelled at her. “Dont fucking touch me Harvey!” she glared at you hard, her grip softend slightly as she steered you away. “You always need to be the Godamn hero! You just can't- stop, I said don't fucking touch me!!” You squirmed out of her grip, knocking her hands away. Blood dripped of your chin onto the ice as Maggie immediately came between you two. Her mouth was moving but you couldn't hear a thing she was saying, tears brimmed in your eyes as you suddenly felt all the air leave your lungs.

Crumbling into Maggie, your head pounded as she helped you off the ice. You spent the rest of the game in the health office with the lights off.

We lost by two points.

Stepping into your team lockeroom, you were met with a freshly showered and clothed KK Harvey. Clad in loose grey sweats and a black nike sports bra, she sat on the bench across from the door like she was expecting you. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she had a look on her face that you assumed was irritation.

"Oh hell no," you muttered under your breath as you immediately turned to leave, pulling the door handle. To your dismay, the door did not open. "What the fuck did you do to the door Harvey?" You pulled harder at the door which did not open. “I didn't do shit to the door, you were the last one who touched it!” you groaned closing your eyes.

“Why are you even in here? Shouldn't you be out with you team? And your girlfriend?” She was quiet, just watching you as you stated back at her. “What? You want an apology or something?” She slumped over letting her head fall into her hands

“Is the door really not opening?” You rolled your eyes at her, “what do you think?” “You don't have to be such a bitch you know? I was only here in the first place to make sure you were okay-”

“Since when have you cared about my health?” “Can you not fucking interrupt me. Please.” “Oh my god I'm going to kill myself. You are so stuck up!” You stood up, walking towards her. “When was the last time you didn't get exactly what you want? You have the media, the fans, fucking everyone, wrapped around your finger. I'm SO sick of it!” She immediately stood up to meet you, stepping just a bit too close for an argument. The height difference left you slightly craning your neck to look up at her. She was silent for a moment.

“How bad is your head?”

“...Feels like its going to explode.”

You were silent again. You looked over her shoulder refusing to look her in the eye, but you could feel her blue eyes tracing your face.

“I’m not sorry.”

“I know.”

You flicked your eyes up to hers. Neither of you stepped away, clinging to whatever remained between you.

“Want me to turn the light off?”

You swallowed hard, “Yeah, please.”

As she flicked the light off, you collapsed against the couch. KK gingerly sat on the opposite edge.

“I’m sorry the media isn’t nice to you.” Once again you found yourself wanting to poke her eyes out. “KK that's not your fault-” you paused. The nickname slipped out a little too easily. You had never called her anything besides Harvey. You could feel her looking at you in the dark room, you knew what face she was making too.

"I know its not my fault, but I've had opportunities to say something to make it better and I haven't. You are my biggest competitor on the ice, you always play a tough game. But that dosen't mean I hate you or that you're a mean person...You're mean or cruel, I know your not."

You were quiet for a moment. "I'm just so tired of everything." You wanted to die as soon as you heard your voice tremble. To be fair you had kept the tears in through the whole incident and through your long discussion with coach after the game. You were planning on crying when you got back to your dorm. Crying infront of KK was a low. Desperately you looked up, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes.

You felt her scooch down the couch to sit next to you. Gently, she grabbed your wrists as you let her pull them away from your face. "Don't do that you're going to make your head worse." She didn't let go as she softly held your wrists, her eyes surveying your bruised hands. Letting your head lull to the side, you could make out the faint outline of her face, the curve of her nose, and the glint in her eyes.

“Sorry.”

"Don’t be.”

She slowly runs her thumb over your forearm, her eyes tracing the veins in your left arm. You watched her face as you softly tucked a stray piece of wet hair behind her ear with your other hand. She peered up at you.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

You felt the butterflies in your stomach explode at her words. Climbing into your throat and clouding your brain.

“Yeah?”

“-and I know I can't because you're obviouly concussed and you've had a long day and I-”

Her words trailed off as you cupped her cheek with your right hand. Tracing your thumb under her eye.

Gently, she pulled you closer to her. Your knees connecting with hers. You both lingered for a moment, just a breath away from changing everything.

She kissed you like she loved you. Soft and sweet, nothing mattered at all except for her lips and her hands still holding your wrist. Gradually she pulled you ontop of her and you slowly pushed her into the couch.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you pulled away. Her eyes raked over your face like she was trying to commit it all to memory. “God you're so fucking pretty” you slowly made your way to her neck, sucking purple marks into the exposed skin. She hummed at your actions, dropping her head to the side, her cheeks dusted a light pink. You settled your head on her chest letting your eyed droop shut.

“I wish we talked more.” your voice came out as almost a whisper. You felt her place a kiss on your head as she responded, “lets talk tomorrow okay?”

“Nothings gonna change, you know? I really like you Caroline.”

“I know baby, I know.”

“G’night Caro.”

You fell asleep as she gently traced patters on your back and she followed soon after.

Taglist: @ayannatv @smiths-fan--13 COMMENT BELOW FOR 500 CELEBRATION TAGLIST

202 notes · View notes

doitforbangchan · 2 months

Text

Beside you - L.M

Pairing: Idol!Minho x reader

Requested: my wonderful friend @softkisshyunjin requested this ages ago. Sorry for the wait love 💖

Warnings: Angst, fluff, cursing, established relationship not edited 😘

WC: 1.4k exactly

This is based on the song 'Beside you' by 5 Seconds of Summer Masterlist

“All packed?”

“Mm, almost. Just need to get my last pair of shoes.” Minho replied, reaching into his closet and pulling out his favorite pair of kicks. He set them in his suitcase and zipped it up with a sigh. “There. I think that’s all.”

You offered him a delicate smile, smacking the top of the suitcase for good measure. Today he was leaving for another country for a series of interviews and performances for the newest comeback. You were more proud of him and his success that words could describe, but that didn’t mean you both hadn’t been dreading today for weeks. Even though you had been together for years at this point it being away from him never got any easier.

Minho ran a hand through his hair as he turned to face you, “I don’t wanna go.”

You snorted, “Don’t say that, Chan would have your head if he heard you say that.” You reached out and smoothed the creases in his shirt, and he grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to go if it means leaving you here alone. Again.” He gazed deep into your eyes, no hint of jest in his expression. You gulped as you tried to find a good reply, and Minho could the thoughts swirling around in your head. Words you would never say aloud.

“Well,” You started, clearing your voice. “I’m not alone. I have our babies, and you know those three are a full time job with their antics. They get it from their dad, afterall.” Of course you would use the cats as a deflection.

“You know what I mean.” He put his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I’m being serious, you know.”

“So am I, Min. This is your dream- your calling even. There's no way I would let you stay here when you have all the STAY to make happy. I’ll be ok.” Your hand that wasn’t on his heart cupped his cheek and rubbed his cheek bones softly. “Plus, you won’t be completely gone. Not really.” He hummed in question. “I’ll have you here in my heart, just as you’ll have me. Just don’t ever leave it.”

“Never.” He answered immediately. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Minho.” You pressed a kiss to his lips and he pulled you into his hold, squeezing you tightly and letting all the emotions within him pour into you. “Promise to call me everyday?”

“I promise.”

The dial tone kept ringing as Minho held his phone up to his ear. He knew it was late back home, maybe too late, but he needed to speak to you- to hear your voice before he got ready for bed. He had broken the promise he made before he left to call you everyday. In fact he had gone two full weeks and hadn’t called you in over two days, having been extremely busy since he got off the plane. He was exhausted but the only thing that would give him strength to get through the long day tomorrow was you.

“Come on.” He muttered, chewing his bottom lip. “Pick up..”

There was a crackling as the phone stopped ringing, a scratchy voice answering. “Hello?”

Minho could tell by your voice that something was wrong, that you had been crying. “Baby? Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

You tried to hide your sniffling with a poor excuse for a yawn, “Nothing, Min. M’ fine just in bed. Tired.”

He knew you were lying so he pressed a little harder. “Y/n, my love, please talk to me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing you can do to help, Min. It’s a me problem. I’ll get over it, I promise.” At your words he felt like he understood why you were upset, and it damn near broke his heart into tiny pieces.

“I miss you too, my love. So so much.” His voice cracked as he professed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday. I’m so sorry.”

There was no denying the pain that resounded in your cries when he revealed the reason for your sadness. “M’ sorry, I tried not to let it get to me. I should be used to this by now but here I am blubbering like a toddler.”

“No, don't say that baby, it gets to me too. I miss you more than I miss breathing.I would give anything to be beside you right now.” He clutched the phone tighter in his hand, “I know you lie awake at night..” The singer was trying to find the words to say but his mind kept going back to his yearning for you. “I can’t stand being so far away while you sleep alone. My heart wants to come home.”

“I couldn’t be selfish and ask you to do that.”

“Then don’t ask. You don’t have to.” His mind was racing a million miles a minute, and the beating in his chest told him his heart was much the same. “I’ll fly you out.”

There was a beat of silence from your end and it filled him with anxiety.

“Min..” It came out as a whisper.

“I’ll buy you a ticket right now. I can have you on the next plane out. I would do anything to have you here. Anything to be beside you.” He was frantic as he pulled out his laptop and booted it up.

There was more silence from your end, but he paid that no mind as he looked up the next available flight.

“Here we go, I know it’ll be a little early but there’s one departing at-”

“Minho.” Your voice snapped him out of his rumination. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The company wouldn’t like it if I tagged along, they already have their reservations about our relationship.”

He scoffed, entering in your information on the laptop. “ Who gives a shit what the company thinks about it?”

“I do, Minho. And you should too. JYPE is responsible for your whole career.”

“Yes, they are. But I’m also a part of the reason they make so much money.” His words were cocky and he knew it but he needed to get his point across. “What are they gonna do? Fire me? As if that would fly. And if they try to say anything about it then I’ll walk.” You went to protest but he cut you off. “I’m not joking, I can’t let you be alone any longer. I need you with me.”

“I’m not alone, you're here with me. There are pieces of us both under every city light. We are never without each other, even if sometimes it hurts. We both fall asleep underneath the same sky, and we both wake up under the same sun. Separate but never truly apart.” You sniffled and Minho knew you were wiping your tears away. The ache in his chest was still heavy, even though the way you expressed the connection you share so beautifully had eyes welling up in his own eyes. Good thing you couldn’t see his face right now or you would have teased him.

His voice broke as he spoke into the receiver. “This hurt is almost too much to bear.”

“I know, love. But it’ll be over before we both know it. I just keep telling myself that.”

“When did you get so wise?” He tried to crack a joke to lighten the mood, and was greeted by a small giggle from the other end of the phone.

“One of us has to be and we both know it’s not you.”

“Hey! I’m wise.” The man protested.

Silence

“Sometimes.” He relented sheepishly. You both couldn’t help the laughs that escaped you both. “I still think it’s a good idea to fly you out.”

“Let’s sleep on it, and if tomorrow you still want to buy a plane ticket we can discuss it further.” You suggested light heartedly, and even though Minho knew he would feel the same way then as he does now he agreed. “We really should get some rest, Min. You have a busy day tomorrow.”

“You’re right, I will be busy.. Buying the love of my life a ticket straight to me. Mark my words, this will be the last day I wake up without being beside you.”

I know it's a lil short but I am so happy with this little fic :') I hope you like it Amber 💝thank you for your patience

©doitforbangchan 2024

@jehhskz @ayejaii

#Spotify #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho #lee know x reader #lee know stray kids #lee know imagines #lee minho stray kids #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader

204 notes · View notes

maknaeswrld · 1 month

Text

here | h.js

wc: 3.7k

genre: childhood best friends to strangers to lovers; gn!reader; idiots in love; fluff; angst.

cw: mentions of marriage; in depth-ish depictions of panic attack; I think that's really it, please let me know

a/n: The Hannie POV nobody asked for and I wrote anyways bc I missed my first fic dumbass babies. if you'd like to experience the full story and haven't yet, start here

roadmap: starts in present; gives his perspective on the time just before and after losing contact; ends back in present (The SOUND + 5 Star era) ((yes it's been that long since I released the original story))

Felix comes bounding in, practically shaking in excitement as he grabs Jeongin and disappears just as fast. Jisung blinks at it, not really paying much attention, his younger members are always up to stuff, but curious about what had garnered Felix’s attention.

He chose not to think about it too much as he fiddled with his mic pack.

Until Jeongin and Felix came back with Jeongin buzzing with just as much excitement.

“Y/n’s here!” Felix shouts. “I just had Innie confirm it for me, they’re actually here! They’re sitting-” Jisung lost all ability to pay attention as his head whipped toward Chan, who was already pulling his shirt back on.

“Go inform the band, I’ll tell production.” Chan says, looking directly at Han as the others seem to fade to the background. “And do not do anything stupid.” Han nods and all but runs out of the room, grabbing band members as he sees them.

“We’re gonna do There during intermission.” He says, sounding as breathless as he feels. “And don’t worry, this isn’t gonna be a regular thing I just, I really need to perform it tonight.” His drummer just pats his shoulder encouragingly.

“Don’t worry man, we’ve got your back.”

As the spotlight hits his face, he’s smacked with the realization that he has no idea where you even are. There’s hundreds of people in the stadium, thousands of eyes watching him curiously as he nervously clears his throat. The crowds have never affected him quite like they were in that moment.

“This wasn’t exactly scheduled, and I’m sorry about that, but I just talked it over with the others and with the band and we’re going to perform There for all of you tonight. This song is, well it’s really important to me.”

As the opening chords start, Jisung feels his heart in his throat as he prepares to sing, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of you.

He hadn’t written this particular song, though there were plenty he had written for you, but when Changbin and Chan showed it to him, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was one that would resonate with you. He knew, or at least he very deeply hoped, that if you ever heard it, you’d think of him. When he had told them this, they agreed they’d perform it live should they ever find you in the crowd, should Jisung ever get the second chance they all wanted for him.

They all knew he was in love with you, they knew before they ever even met you. Han Jisung has never been good at hiding his emotions, and when it came to you, it was almost as if there was nothing to hide because when they met you they could all see you felt the exact same way.

What none of them could ever figure out was why you never told each other and how Jisung let you slip away so easily. It was like one day you were there as you always had been and the next you didn’t exist. No one knew why Jisung let communication dwindle to nothing, but they had all felt the loss when you fully exited their lives.

***

For as long as he could remember, Jisung had you by his side. He remembers playing in puddles and bathing together before it was considered weird. He remembers you hitting his bullies and getting suspended in elementary school, he remembers when puberty hit and he realized you were hot, and then later when he came to the conclusion you weren’t just hot you were also exactly who he wanted to spend his whole life with, in a non platonic way.

That realization hadn’t freaked him out as much as he thought it should have, he already knew he had never wanted you to leave him, so the addition of emotions his young mind couldn’t fully comprehend wasn’t that big of a deal. Not really.

You supported him like no one else. You took care of him, helped him through his anxiety attacks, protected him even if he didn’t necessarily need it. He was young, he knew it’d likely mess up your friendship if he said anything, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that you would be his fairy tale ending,,, one day. If you felt the same.

So instead of outright telling you how he felt, he started fishing for how you might feel. The joke of ‘are you in love with me or something’ quickly became an ongoing thing that you would both use when the other did something that resembled even the smallest bit of possible affection. It went from a way for him to see if you felt the same to a safety net for you both to use to say it without actually saying it.

It was obvious to everyone, including the both of you, that the relationship went beyond friendship, but he never acted on it, too terrified of being wrong to risk it; and then later too afraid of pulling you into a world that you didn’t want to be a part of.

As Jisungs fame grew, his need to keep you by his side both intensified and dwindled.

In all reality, he was terrified of rising to fame alone, of having the spotlight on him and not being able to look to his side and see you. The thought of you not supporting him every step of the way, of not being with him, of losing touch and never being able to find his way back to you scared him more than anything he’d ever faced. But on the same hand, he wanted you nowhere near the spotlight.

He knew the risks that come with the industry, and he knew how much worse it could potentially be if people thought you were romantically involved. The music industry isn’t always the most pleasant and he knew it, you knew it, so as much as he despised the idea of losing you, the thought of you losing yourself by following him seemed so much worse.

Jisung wanted to always protect you, keep you from the dangers and toxicity of relations of any kind with an idol. He was torn in half about it. He wanted to be selfish and keep you close, but he needed to keep you away. He knew the boys would take care of you if he had tried to keep you close, he knew Bang Chan would never let the company dictate your life in any way, but the risk far outweighed the reward at the time. Jisung didn’t know what he would do should he ever have to watch you get dragged into a lifestyle you never wanted.

When you told him you were moving to America for your promotion, it was as if it were the answer he didn’t know he needed. Between the timezones, him and the members getting busier, and your new work schedule, losing communication all together wouldn’t be too difficult.

The thought of purposely losing contact with you made his stomach twist horribly, guilt riddling him, but he had to, it was the only way to keep you safe. The only way to keep you untainted by the dark side of the world he threw himself into.

He didn’t bank on his members caring for you so much, making it drag out longer than he anticipated, asking when he was going to call you so they could steal his phone to talk to you themselves. They would ask him why you stopped calling every night, to which he’d shrug and pretend he hadn’t silenced your number. As they got busier, the thought of you slipped further and further from everyone's minds, and by the end of your first year in America, it was as if you didn’t even exist.

His heart ached at every little thing that would bring a reminder of you to his mind, from seeing your favorite flower to trying a new restaurant and wishing he could share it with you. You were a ghost that haunted him in everything he did. Every song he wrote was a story of you or to you.

The members never pushed him to try and contact you, but he sometimes wished they would, that they’d force his hand and call the number he wasn’t even positive belonged to you anymore. The closest anyone ever got into making him remember you was when one of the members would buy something that reminded them of you. Between the eight of them, there was an entire bookshelf in each dorm dedicated to gifts they should have been giving you throughout the years, although not a single one of them ever acknowledged that being the case.

Han wished they’d bring you up, he wished they’d force him into remembering you and everything he had, everything he could have had.

It was shortly after the release of NoEasy that he’d bought the ring. He was out shopping with Jeongin and Hyunjin when he saw it, and all he could see was it resting on your hand. He’d purchased it and stashed the small box carefully away so there could be no possible pictures spread, and therefore no rumors.

Jisung never truly believed he’d see you again, part of him might’ve even hoped he’d never see you again, it’d be easier to suffer in his choices than it’d be to try explaining them to you.

But a much bigger part of him couldn’t leave his apartment without that ring. After buying it that day, it’d taken up permanent residence in his bag, never once separating from his side. Changbin had laughed after seeing it the first time.

“What, do you plan to just drop to one knee and pop the question the second you reunite?”

Jisung’s cheeks turned bright red at the teasing.

“And what if I do?”

Changbin just looked at him like he was his own special kind of stupid and was wearing a giant sign that announced the fact.

Sometimes, when the studio was empty and the hour too late for any human being, Jisung would let himself dwell in the memories of the past, trying to remember how it felt to have you in his orbit, your gravity keeping him on his axis. He’d let his mind drift through the memories that he typically kept tucked away.

Thinking of your smile, your shared inside jokes, the way you’d loved him so hesitantly for so many years, both eased his heart and made it contract with regret every single time, but it’s also where so many of his songs started. He was an emotion writer and you were his favorite emotion.

As the years passed, he grew more confident in the fact that he’d successfully run you off. The ring remained in his bag, but was handled less. The songs were still written, but not as often. He was comfortable in the fact that you were good and gone, that he would never see you again.

Until that was no longer the case.

~~~

As the song came to an end and Jisung still hadn’t been able to find you, he tried to keep his shoulders straight. Tried with all his might to keep a semblance of a smile on his face. But he knew he wasn’t successful when Chan grabbed him and gently directed him backstage once again.

“Sungie, I really need you to come back to us, okay? Y/n or no Y/n, we’ve still got a job to do and getting into your head is just going to take you further away.” Chan, always the voice of reason, could hardly hide the concern clouding his eyes and voice. Han hated making Chan worry about him, especially in the middle of shows.

“You’re never gonna find them and get them back if you don’t get out there and keep trying.” Seungmin smacked him on the back, shoving a bottle of water into his hand and continuing past.

Taking a few anchoring breaths, Jisung quickly changed into the next stage's outfit, let the make-up staff do their job, and finally found his way back out on the stage.

He never stopped searching. His eyes constantly looking over every single face he could see from the stage, begging his eyes to finally pick you out of the crowd. Stomach moving further and further up into his throat the longer he went without laying eyes on you. And then Minho laughed.

There weren’t many sounds that drew Jisung’s attention quite as fast as a genuine laugh from Minho, the noise caught him off guard and pulled him in his direction instantly, a genuine smile already making its way onto Jisungs face.

Han threw an arm over Minho’s shoulder, a grin splitting his lips as he lifted his mic for his upcoming part, before Minho shoved him into a downward spiral of losing all track of his surroundings.

“Straight ahead, about eighth row maybe.” His friend nodded slightly, and Jisung’s eyes were scanning the direction, instantly finding yours.

The world didn’t stop, it didn’t go quiet or fade away entirely, but Jisung felt like it should have, like finally seeing you again was everything he needed in that moment and the rest of the world could find something else to do as long as you kept looking at him.

Minho’s hand squeezing Jisung’s side roughly snapped him back into the reality of the situation though. The rest of the world wasn’t going to just leave right now and the major choreography was coming up. He couldn’t help smiling at you again before getting ready to continue doing his job, barely recognizing that he completely missed his part.

After having finally found you, he couldn’t stomach losing sight of you, fearing the second he stopped looking at you, you’d vanish. As if he’d made you up. It caused plenty of mess ups in both choreography and lines, but by the time the concert came to an end, he was convinced you really, truly were right there.

After saying his goodbyes to Stay, he rushed to the closest member of security he could find and begged for him to go get you, giving him your name and approximate location. The energy of a good show was an adrenaline high unlike any other Jisung had ever experienced, the excitement coursing through the group aided with the joy of knowing you’d been in the crowd.

Jisung realizes maybe too late that he should’ve asked if his members were okay with him pulling you backstage, if they wanted to see you and get to know you again as much as he did. He hunts down Chan to ask, albeit too late for his no to have any real effect.

“If you hadn’t sent someone to find them, I would’ve done it myself. You’re crazy if you think we were going to let them leave without trying to reconnect. We all missed Y/n too, you know.”

Chan meant to be comforting, but it had the reverse effect. Jisung knew his members cared about you too but he’d never really stopped to think about how much him pushing you away may have affected each of them.

Had the decision been completely selfish? Had he caused pain to everyone important to him for nothing if you accept the invitation and come backstage? In the end, Jisung knew blocking you out had been selfish, he knew that he should have left it to be your decision to make, that if you were going to leave it should have been because you wanted to not because he made you. If he hadn’t, would you be on tour with them right now? What would be different if he had talked to you about his fears instead of just choosing to act on them?

The further his brain went down that thought, the more he had to pace to try and keep his heart rate somewhat steady. He avoided messing with his hair, knowing that his stylist would chew him out for pulling it again, but damn it did he want to. The air felt too thin, the lights too bright, he hadn’t just hurt you, he’d hurt his band too. He hurt every single person he wanted to be the best version of himself for, every person he never, ever wanted to hurt.

“I need you to breathe for me Sungie, deep breaths. Can you follow my breathing?” Chan didn’t try to touch him, just hoped he listened while watching his friend spiral. “That’s it, there you go.” Chan could feel his whole body shake with relief as Jisung remembered his breathing techniques and started to calm down, even if only slightly.

He slowly reached into his pocket, fishing out the box Jisung insisted on taking with him everywhere. Gently, he reached out to place the box in Jisung’s shaky hands.

“I’m gonna go in there now. If you need me, you can send one of the guards in for me, okay? But remember, that is your best friend in this whole world in there. You’re going to be okay.”

Jiusng hugged him tightly before letting him go. He opened the box slowly, staring at the ring he’d picked out so many years before, his heart in his throat looking at it.

He snapped the box shut again, shoving it deep into his pocket, out of sight as if the box had burned him, eyes moving to the ground as his pacing started back up, Chan’s last words on repeat in his head.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s just your best friend. Your best friend in the whole world that you’ve been out of touch with for years. You’ll be okay. It’s not like they wouldn’t want to see you. Oh my god, what if they don’t want to see me.”

“Han Jisung, would you stop rambling under your breath and hug me already?”

Han’s head whipped up, eyes wide, and for a moment all he could do was stare at you in shock, all he could think was that you are really here, truly in front of him and actually demanding a hug.

And then he rushes towards you, pulling you into a hug so tight, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. He sort of is.

“I missed you so much.” Jisung whispers, his voice watery even to his own ears, likely from his earlier breakdown.

You hug him back with just as much strength, clinging to him and willing away tears of your own.

“Careful, it almost sounds like you’re in love with me or something.” You try to joke, your voice just as unsteady as his.

Everything Jisung had ever thought and never said, every song he’s ever written and every night he’d stayed up remembering you and all the times he could have told you flash through his mind. His heart ached.

“And what if I am?” He whispers. He could feel your breath catch in your throat. Tears still threatening his lash line.

Before you can say anything, he starts fumbling for his pocket before pulling out a small black box. He takes a deep breath, not bothering to try and decipher if it was a good idea before sinking down onto one knee, his mind fearful but determined as your eyes widen in shock.

“Because I am, ya know? I always have been. You’ve always been my ending, Y/n/n. And I had promised you once that you’d be stuck with me for the rest of your miserable life, and that I’d put a ring on it if it meant never losing you. Well, then I did lose you, and now that you’re here, I don’t intend on ever letting you slip away again. So, marry me, and let me spend the rest of my life by your side, because I joke about your miserable life a lot, but I know for a fact how miserable life is without you and I don’t want it.”

Jisung knows you better than he knows himself sometimes, but he’s never been good at dealing with you crying. But before he could put the ring up to attempt to console you instead, you drop to your knees in front of him, nodding as you grab his face and pull him in for a kiss.

Your lips are salty, likely from your shared tears, and his are a little chapped, but they meet yours just as eagerly. His heart swells with the utter completeness of it all, as if this is how it always should have been.

You both pull apart for air, Jisung leans his forehead against yours as he grabs your hand to slide the ring into place, the sounds of whooping and hollering not too far off.

Jisung is unsurprised to see all of the Kids watching, but he can’t help but blush at the four strangers grinning from ear to ear accompanying them.

He blushes and you grin, tears still flowing as he wraps you up into his embrace, thrilled to finally have his best friend in the whole wide world back and beaming proudly as you showed off your ring to two of your apparent friends.

“I love you.” Jisung whispers as he helps you stand up after a few moments to recollect himself.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, leaning further into him and he swears he could live off of just hearing those words from you and feeling you in his arms.

“Sweetie, you’ve got some major explaining to do.” The tiny blonde girl glared at you.

“And so do we. Thanks Hannie.” Seungmin grumbled, being unable to hide his smile even as he said it.

Jisung looked at you, wearing his ring, back in his life where you should have always been, and despite the exhaustingly long conversations and apologies to come, as well as the amount of explaining Chan is probably looking forward to with the company, Jisung couldn’t find himself to feel anything but pure, unadulterated joy right in that moment.

thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are always always appreciated, I love to hear thoughts and opinions!��

#han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #han jisung fanfic #han x reader #han x y/n #han fanfic #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfic #skz x y/n #skz fic #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz #skz han

221 notes · View notes

gong-fourz · 2 months

Text

Love on Tour ━ 태산

genre: fluff warnings: long distance relationship, kissing, lots of heartache, nostalgia(maybe), mentions crying, terms of endearment (that's all I could think of, if I missed anything pls let me know) pairing: idol!taesan x fem!reader wc: 3.7k a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAESAN!! also a big thank you to @0310s for beta reading! nets: @blossomnet @onedoornet @k-labels

Before Taesan left for the tour, your life together was a beautiful, predictable rhythm of love and companionship. You both lived in a cozy apartment nestled in a bustling part of the city. Your days were filled with laughter, spontaneous adventures, and the comfort of each other's presence.

Mornings started with Taesan waking up first, his arms still wrapped around you from the night before. He gently kissed your forehead, causing you to stir and smile even in your sleep. "Good morning, sunshine," he whispered, his voice tender and warm. You slowly opened your eyes, greeting him with a sleepy smile. "Morning, love."

You both had a routine you cherished. Taesan, being the better cook, made breakfast—pancakes on Sundays and omelets on weekdays. You sat on the counter, sipping your coffee, watching him with admiration. "You know," you said playfully, "you're the best chef I've ever known." He laughed and shook his head, flipping a pancake with a flourish. "Only because I've had the best muse."

Your weekends were sacred. You visited the local farmer's market, hand in hand, picking out fresh produce and flowers. You had a favorite café where you spent hours talking about everything and nothing. You loved your corner booth; it was a place where you could watch the world go by and dream about your future together.

One particular Sunday, you were at the café, and the sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over everything. You were animatedly talking about a new project at work, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Taesan watched you, his heart swelling with love and pride. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I'm so proud of you. You're amazing."

Your evenings were equally cherished. You cooked dinner together, dancing around the kitchen to your favorite songs. After dinner, you curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading books. Taesan often strummed his guitar, playing soft melodies that filled your home with a sense of peace. You lay your head on his lap, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the music.

As the tour approached, a sense of urgency crept into your lives. You clung to your routines, trying to savor every moment together. One night, as you lay in bed, Taesan pulled you close. "I'm going to miss this so much," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm going to miss you."

Your heart ached at the thought of being apart. You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to memorize the feel of him. "I'll miss you too, Taesan. But we'll get through this. I know we will."

The day before he left, you spent every second together. You revisited all your favorite spots, took long walks, and discussed your future. That night, you laid on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, tears streaming down your faces. You didn't need words; your love spoke volumes.

The morning of his departure, you woke up to find Taesan already up, packing his bags. He looked at you with a mixture of sadness and determination. "This isn't goodbye. It's just a temporary separation. We'll be together again soon."

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him. "I know. I believe in us."

As you kissed goodbye, both of you held on a little longer, a little tighter. The tour bus pulled away, and you stood there, waving, your heart heavy but hopeful. You knew your love would withstand the distance, that you would emerge from this stronger than ever. And with that belief, you turned and walked back to your apartment, counting down the days until Taesan returned.

Sitting on your bed later that week, your phone clutched tightly in your hand, you took a deep breath and hit the call button. The familiar ring filled your ears as you waited for Taesan to pick up.

"Hey, Y/N," Taesan's warm voice came through, tinged with exhaustion. "I'm so glad you called. I miss you."

You smiled, though it didn't reach your eyes. He wouldn’t know, though. "I miss you too, Taesan. How was your show tonight?"

"It was great. The crowd was amazing, and everything went smoothly," he replied with a hint of enthusiasm. "But it's not the same without you here."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "I wish I could be there with you. Every day feels so empty without you around. I miss your laugh, your smile… everything."

Taesan sighed, the sound heavy with longing. "I know what you mean. I miss waking up next to you and having you there to share all the little moments. It's hard, Y/N. Sometimes, it feels like this tour will never end."

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I hate that we have to be apart for so long. The days feel endless, and I find myself counting down the minutes until we can talk again."

"Me too," Taesan admitted, his voice soft. "I've been looking at photos of us, remembering all the good times. It helps a little but also makes me miss you even more."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "I do the same thing. I keep a picture of us on my nightstand, and I look at it every night before I go to sleep. It's my way of feeling close to you, even if it's just for a moment."

Taesan was silent for a few seconds, the weight of your separation hanging heavy in the air. "I wish I could just hold you right now. Talking on the phone helps, but it's not enough. I need you here with me."

You hastily wiped a stray tear away. "I know, Taesan. I feel the same way. It's hard to stay strong when all I want is to be near you. But… we have to keep going for each other."

"We will," Taesan said, his voice firm but tender. "This distance won't last forever. We'll get through this, and when the tour is over, we'll make up for all the lost time."

You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "I can't wait for that day. Until then, we'll have to hold onto our love and keep each other strong."

"Agreed," Taesan replied. "And remember, I'm always thinking of you. You're always in my heart, no matter where or what I'm doing."

You smiled through your tears, feeling a glimmer of hope. "You're always in my heart, too, Taesan. We'll make it through this together." After a moment of contemplation, you continued, "Do you remember that little café we used to go to every Sunday? I went there last weekend. It wasn't the same without you, but it brought back so many good memories."

Taesan's voice brightened. "Of course, I remember. We'd sit in the corner booth, and you'd always order that ridiculous triple chocolate muffin. How was it?"

You chuckled, the sound bittersweet. "Just as delicious as ever. I saved a piece for you, you know, out of habit. But it was nice to sit there and think about all the times we laughed and talked for hours."

"I miss those Sundays," Taesan said softly. "I miss how you’d scrunch your nose when you were deep in thought or how your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved. It's those little things that I miss the most."

Your heart ached with longing. "Me too. Like how you'd always hum when you were concentrating, or how you'd reach for my hand without even realizing it. It's the everyday moments that I miss the most."

Taesan sighed again, the sound heavy with emotion. "We'll get those moments back, Y/N. This tour won't last forever. And when it's over, we'll make every moment count."

You nodded, feeling a swell of determination. "You're right. And until then, we'll hold onto the memories and look forward to making new ones. We've got this, Taesan."

"I know we do," he replied, his voice filled with love. "Thank you for calling tonight. Hearing your voice makes everything a little easier."

You smiled, a sense of peace settling over you. "Thank you for being there, Taesan. We'll get through this together."

You lingered on the phone, each finding solace in the other's voice. As you finally said your goodbyes, you felt a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead might be long, but your love was strong enough to bridge any distance.

You sat at the kitchen table with your laptop open in front of you. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your thoughtful expression. It had been three long months since Taesan had left for his band's nationwide tour. The late-night phone calls and daily text messages weren't enough to fill the void his absence had created. You missed everything about him—the way his laughter filled the room, the warmth of his hugs, the sound of his voice singing softly to you.

Scrolling through social media, you saw a new video posted by his band. The crowd cheered wildly as he commanded the stage with his usual charisma. He looked happy, and you felt a pang of guilt for wishing he were back home. You wanted to support his dreams, but the distance was taking its toll.

As you watched him perform their favorite song, an idea sparked in your mind. What if you could surprise him in a way that he would never forget? The thought filled you with excitement.

Your mind raced with possibilities. You imagined the look of surprise and joy on his face when he realized you were there. It was perfect. With renewed determination, you resolved to make it happen. You would show him just how much he meant to you, no matter the distance.

You began your preparations the very next day, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You knew you needed help to pull off this surprise, so you reached out to Sungho, one of Taesan's bandmates and his closest friend in the group.

Sungho had always been a quiet, introspective figure, deeply passionate about his music and art. Over time, you had bonded with him through your shared love of creativity, especially sketching. Sungho, who was initially reserved, gradually opened up to you as you discussed the challenges of artistic expression. These conversations brought you closer, and Sungho came to value your opinions on his work, seeing you as a true friend and confidante. You knew he would be the perfect person to help you with this plan.

"Hey, Sungho," you greeted when he answered your call, "I have a crazy idea and need your help."

"Sure. What's up?" Sungho's warm and welcoming voice comforted you, reminding you of your friendship with the band.

You took a deep breath. "I want to surprise Taesan by sneaking into his hotel room after your show. Do you think you could help me?"

Sungho laughed, delighted by the idea. "That's brilliant! Taesan is going to flip. Let me talk to our manager, and I'll make sure his room is ready for you."

Your heart raced. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening and that you would be meeting Taesan very soon. "Thank you so much, Sungho. This means the world to me."

Within an hour, Sungho had rallied the rest of the band, and they were all on board. You weren’t surprised—each member had become like family to you, and you knew they would do anything to make this surprise happen.

Leehan, the band’s vocalist, who was known for his natural charisma and warmth, was especially excited. Your bond with Leehan had deepened over time through shared experiences, particularly your mutual love for aquatic life and exploring new places. Leehan was always the heart of the group, making sure everyone felt valued and appreciated. He immediately started brainstorming ways to make the surprise even more special, suggesting details that only someone who knew Taesan as well as he did could come up with.

Riwoo, the group’s energetic dancer and choreographer, was equally enthusiastic. Riwoo was the embodiment of energy and positivity, always ready for an adventure. Your friendship with him was filled with laughter and spontaneous fun, and he saw this surprise as the perfect opportunity for another exciting escapade. He offered to distract Taesan after the show, giving you more time to prepare.

Even Woonhak, the youngest member of the group, was eager to help. Despite his youth, Woonhak was thoughtful and mature, often surprising you with his wisdom and insight. He looked up to you as an older sibling figure, and he was determined to play his part in making this reunion unforgettable. Woonhak also offered to keep Taesan occupied during the day, ensuring he had no clue about the surprise waiting for him.

Sungho called you to finalize the logistics. "We'll be in Chicago next week," he explained. "We have a big show, and afterward, I can sneak you into Taesan's room. The band will be hanging out at the venue for a while, so you'll have time to get in and hide before Taesan comes back."

Your excitement grew. "That sounds perfect, Sungho. Thank you so much for helping me with this."

The days leading up to the concert flew by. You could hardly contain your eagerness. You packed your bags and set off for Chicago, your mind racing with anticipation. The thought of seeing Taesan's face after all this time filled you with indescribable joy.

On the day of the concert, you arrived at the hotel early. You met with Sungho to finalize the details. He chose a perfect spot for you to hide in Taesan's room—between the wall and the bed. He found you in the hotel lobby and led you to Taesan's room, smiling reassuringly. "Are you ready?"

You took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm ready."

Sungho unlocked the room and held the door open for you, smiling. "Good luck. I'll make sure Taesan takes his time getting here."

You grinned back, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Thank you, Sungho. I couldn't have done this without you." You climbed onto the bed and slid into the gap between the wall and the mattress, squeezing into the tight space. The familiar scent of Taesan's cologne lingered in the air, making your heart ache with longing. You waited, your mind racing with thoughts of how Taesan would react.

After what felt like an eternity, you heard the distant sound of the concert ending and the murmur of fans as they left the venue. Your heart pounded as you prepared for the moment. You heard footsteps approaching the room, and then the door creaked open.

Taesan stepped into the room, looking exhausted but exhilarated. "Man, what a show," he muttered to himself, dropping his bag on the floor. He ambled around the room, tidying up and unwinding from the performance. You held your breath, waiting for the perfect moment.

Finally, Taesan headed to the bathroom, and you heard the sound of the shower turning on. You took this opportunity to slip out from your hiding spot and climb into the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You lay there, your heart racing, as you listened to the water running.

A few minutes later, the shower turned off, and Taesan emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He moved around the room, getting ready for bed. You could barely contain your excitement as you waited for him to lie down.

Taesan finally pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and climbed in, sighing with contentment as he settled down. You waited a few moments, then turned to face him, a mischievous smile on your face.

"Surprise!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with exhilaration.

Taesan's eyes flew open, and he nearly jumped out of bed. "Y/N? What… How are you here?"

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. "I missed you so much. I wanted to do something special for you." Taesan pulled you into a tight embrace, his voice choked with emotion. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

You lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, as the moment's reality sank in. Taesan's grip tightened around you as if holding you any less firmly might make you disappear. "I can't believe you did this," your boyfriend said, his eyes shining with awe. "You're incredible."

You smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. "I just wanted to remind you how much I love you and how proud I am of you."

Taking your hands in his, Taesan’s eyes locked onto yours. "You've done so much more than that. You've made me the happiest man alive."

Just then, Sungho peeked into the room, grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, lovebirds! We couldn't miss this moment," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

The band members stepped into the room, surrounding you both with their warmth. They congratulated you on your brilliant idea, each sharing the joy of the surprise. The room buzzed with laughter and love, a perfect end to an unforgettable night.

As the evening wound down and the bandmates began to leave, you found a quiet corner to yourselves. You sat on the bed, holding hands, and talked about everything you'd missed in each other's lives. You shared stories about your time apart, the little moments that made you think of each other, and your dreams for the future.

Taesan took a deep breath and began, "The tour was incredible. The energy, the crowds—it was everything I ever dreamed of. But every night, after the show, when the adrenaline faded… I felt so alone without you."

You squeezed his hand. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been. I missed you so much, Tae. Work's been hectic—two promotions, believe it or not. I also started painting again, trying to keep busy."

"Painting?" Taesan's eyes lit up. "That's amazing! I remember how much you loved it. Do you have any pieces I can see?"

You nodded, a shy smile on your lips. "I do. I'll show you later. But honestly, everything reminded me of you. Every song on the radio, every city skyline. It all felt empty without you."

"I felt the same," Taesan said softly. "Even in a crowd of thousands, I just wanted to share it all with you. Every time something good happened, I wished you were there to see it."

You looked into his eyes, tears welling up.

You held each other, knowing that your love would always bring you back together no matter the distance.

"I can't believe you pulled this off," Taesan said, his eyes still shining with amazement. "You're incredible."

You smiled, your heart full. "I just wanted to make you happy. Seeing you like this makes everything worth it."

Taesan leaned in, kissing you gently. "You've made me happier than I ever thought possible. Thank you. Thank you for loving me like this."

You sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, knowing that no matter how far apart you were, your love would always find a way to bring you back together.

You stayed on tour with Taesan for the next few days, savoring every moment you had together. The days were filled with laughter, music, and deep conversations that strengthened your bond. You attended his shows, watched him perform proudly, and joined the band for meals and late-night jam sessions. Your friendship with Taesan's bandmates deepened, and they became like a second family.

One evening, after a particularly fantastic show, Taesan and you found yourselves alone on the balcony of your hotel room, the city lights twinkling below. You sat close, hands intertwined, the cool night air filled with the promise of the future.

"This tour has been incredible," Taesan said, his voice filled with awe. "But having you here makes it perfect."

You leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I'm so glad I could join you. Seeing you perform and being part of this... it's amazing."

Taesan kissed your forehead, a soft, tender gesture. "The distance was hard, but it made me realize something important."

"What's that?" You asked, looking up at him.

Taesan took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. "No matter how far apart we are, you're always with me. And I'm always with you. Our love is stronger than any distance."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I feel the same way, Taesan. This experience has shown me how strong we are together."

Taesan smiled, his eyes shining with love. "And it's made me think about the future. I don't want us to be apart like that again. When this tour ends, I want us to build a life together. Wherever the road takes us, I want you by my side."

Your heart swelled with happiness. "I want that too, Taesan. More than anything."

You sat in comfortable silence, watching the city that never sleeps buzz with energy. The journey ahead was unknown, but you were ready to face it together.

As the days passed, you continued to make the most of your time together. You explored new cities, created unforgettable memories, and talked about your plans for the future. You discussed how you would manage the remaining time apart, promising to stay connected through daily calls and frequent visits.

"We'll get through this," Taesan said, his voice filled with conviction. "No matter how far apart we are, we'll always find our way back to each other."

You nodded, your eyes shining with conviction. "Always."

And with that promise, you held each other close, knowing that your love was unbreakable, your bond unshakable. No matter where life would take the both of you, you would always have each other.

taglist: @minkilicious

174 notes · View notes

lovelybucky1 · 1 year

Text

Ego (rockstar!anakin x reader)

warnings: band!au, AFAB!reader, spitting, light choking, praise, degradation, (mentioned) exhibitionism, (mentioned) public sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, m!receiving oral sex, rough sex, smoking, consumption of alcohol, anakin is kind of an asshole in his, but he loves you

masterlist

The concert was explosive. Your ears still ring from the deafening bass from the speakers next to the stage and your nose is filled with the scent of smoke and sulfur from the fireworks that lit off during the last song.

You push through the flow of the bustling crowd leaving the venue, as you make your way up to the stage. You climb over the barrier and skip up the stairs. You slip behind the curtain and walk through the backstage area to the back exit.

The roadies are wheeling the band’s equipment to the bus and are packing it up to be transported to the next city overnight. You cut in front of the train of carts and equipment and run towards the bus, your stiletto heels clicking on the wet pavement.

When you reach the door, you find it already open. You walk up the few stairs and find yourself standing in a cloud of cigarette smoke. The band is lounged on the leather couches, each with a bottle and a cigarette in either hand. Everyone cheers when they notice you; they all love you.

“There they are!” Kit exclaims.

Ahsoka, the newest addition to the band and the youngest of the group at 19, giggles loudly at something on her phone, obviously a little intoxicated.

You greet them all as you walk towards the couch towards your boyfriend. Anakin is lounging lazily on the couch, his feet kicked up on the arm of the couch, with a cigarette balanced between his fingers. He looks up at you as you walk by, eyes half-lidded and a little glazed. He smiles slowly as he takes in your outfit: tight pants, his band’s shirt cut and distressed into something very revealing, and high heels.

Anakin is wearing something of similar style: a sweat-stained dark gray t-shirt, black distressed skinny jeans, and large black boots that make him even taller. His piercings glitter in the low light, and his smudged eyeliner makes your knees weak.

“Hey, baby,” he grins, reaching his hand out to grab your waist.

“Hey, Ani,” you laugh as he guides you into his lap.

He puts his cigarette in his mouth to free his other hand to touch you. With a smirk, he pulls you up his body so you’re straddling his waist.

“The show was amazing tonight,” you say.

“God, it was,” he says, closing his eyes and grinning as he reminisces on the night.

There’s nothing Anakin loves more than attention. He’s the front man of the band, always has all eyes on him. Everyone in the crowd cheers for him, is there to see him, wants him. As much as Anakin loves to play his music, he loves the ego trip even more.

“Everyone loved you.”

“It was electric. I can still feel it,” Anakin said with a groan.

Being on stage turns all of Anakin’s emotions up to eleven, and he rides that high for a long while after the concert. Like now, he’s looking up at you with lust blown eyes and you can feel his cock growing harder underneath you.

“Don’t be a diva, Ani, they loved all of us,” Ahsoka chimes in.

“Please, if Kit’s ugly ass was our front man, that venue would be empty,” Anakin huffs. “Everyone wants what they can’t have, so they’ll buy songs and tickets and all the other stupid shit we come up with just so they can get a taste of what it’d be like to have me.”

“If your head gets any bigger, it’ll pop,” Aayla rolls her eyes.

“Well,” Anakin swings his legs around so his feet are back on the floor, keeping you in his lap. “In that case, I better make good use of my time before I get my brains all over the bus.”

Anakin places his hands under your thighs and stands up. You wrap your arms and legs around him and hold on tightly, your faces just inches apart.

“Ugh,” Ahsoka groans.

With a wide grin, Anakin walks you back to the bedroom at the back of the bus. It’s a large bed that Anakin has claimed since he put them on the map, much to the other’s annoyance. Anakin kicks open the door and takes one long stride before he’s dropping you down on your back atop the bed.

He shuts the door and makes quick work of shedding his sweaty t-shirt. His abs ripple when he puts his arms down and you find yourself staring at the tattoos that litter his abdomen, chest, and arms. You reach out to trace the stars mirrored on each of his hip bones, those being your favorite tattoos of his.

He looks down at you with exhaustion-heavy eyes, the liquor he undoubtedly had, not helping. Despite how tired he is, he needs to get the leftover adrenaline out of his system.

“You’re not even gonna let me kiss you first?” he asks you with a raised eyebrow.

“You taste like cigarettes.”

“That’s how I got you addicted to me in the first place,” he smirks as he reaches up to graze his thumb over your jaw.

“Trust me, that’s not what got me addicted.”

“No? Then what was?” he smiles as he waits for an answer. “My money? My fame? My dick?”

You roll your eyes. “Kiss me, you idiot.”

Anakin grins as he bends down to kiss you. He smashes your lips together in a rough, passionate kiss. He does taste like cigarettes, as well as alcohol and something that is so distinctly Anakin.

“I’m so fucking horny for you,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss finally breaks. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting such blunt words. “I was thinking about you the whole goddamn time.”

“What were you thinking about?” you ask curiously, your face still inches away from his, looking at his stained mouth from your lipstick.

“Bringing you up on stage and taking you in front of everybody,” he confesses as his hands travel from your neck down to your torso.

“I think that’d make the fangirls jealous.”

“Good. Let them be jealous. Let them see how good I can give it.”

Anakin stands up straight and you bring your hands up to work at Anakin’s pants; unzipping the fly and pushing his jeans and boxer briefs down far enough for his cock to spring free. It almost his you in the face as the pink tip bobs tantalizingly in front of you. You look up at him, silently asking for permission to put your mouth around it.

“It’s not gonna suck itself,” he smirks as he guides your head towards his length with a hand in your hair.

Once you get your mouth on his dick, he loosens his hold on you and allows you to go at your own pace. His voice is already a little hoarse from performing tonight, and the added gravel to his moans make your head spin as you listen below him.

“Fuck, they’d be so jealous. I’d take you up there and let you suck my dick in the middle of a song, just like this.”

Anakin tilts his head back in a groan as you flick your tongue around the tip.

Your mouth waters aroud his length, and after a few bobs of your head, drool is leaking from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. Anakin loves when you get messy like this, especially when your dark lipstick leaves prints at the base of his cock.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” he groans.

Anakin threads his fingers through your hair and holds you tightly, not directing you, just making sure you feel it.

You take him all the way into your throat and look up at him with glassy eyes as you gag around him. Anakin loves the feeling of your throat contracting as you struggle not to gag; it feeds his ego knowing that his dick is too big even for someone so well trained.

Anakin feels like orgasm nearing, so he pulls you off by your hair so he does not finish too quickly.

You sit back on your knees and wipe your face with the back of your hand. You look sinful underneath him like this; lipstick smudged and eye makeup running from tears.

“Come up here, baby,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you to your feet. You put your arms around his neck and look up at him, feeling small in his arms. “I want you to give me some marks. I want something to show off tomorrow,” he grins.

You lean in to latch your lips onto his pec, sucking the smooth skin that covers the hard muscle into your mouth. You suck firmly, pinching thr skin between your teeth as you do. A satisfied hum rumbles through his chest when you pull away and he sees the dark red mark you left on his pale skin.

Before long, his chest, collarbone, neck, and abdomen are littered with similar sized hickeys. After each one you left, he reached down to press his fingers into the forming bruise, just to feel the dull pain.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Anakin says, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close so your hips are pressed flush to his.

“Then why don’t you fuck me?”

“Is that how you ask for it?” he asks with a smirk.

“No, but I have a feeling you’ll give it to me either way.”

Anakin chuckles as he slides his hands up your sides, pushing your shirt up as he does. You raise your arms above your head and he pulls it off, revealing your lace bra underneath.

Anakin’s eyes darken even more as he takes in the sight of the delicate black lace over your perfect tits. It’s beautiful, and Anakin was to destroy it. He grabs each cup firmly in his large hands and pulls, ripping the pretty bra down the center.

“What the fuck?” you gasp. “That was expensive!”

“You bought it with my money, didn’t you?”

You glare at him. “Yes, but-”

“Then I should be able to do whatever I want with it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you huff as your shrug off the scraps of your ruined bra.

His hands move to the front of your jeans, but you swat them away before he can ruin anymore of your clothes. While you take your pants off, he does the same.

Now, you’re both standing in the tour bus bedroom, completely bare to each other’s gazes.

“Turn around,” Anakin orders.

“Make me,” you challenge.

He gives you an unimpressed stare before he grabs your hips and spins you around. He pushes you so you lay face down on the bed, but you do not stay there. You prop yourself up on your elbows and just as you look back at him, his long fingers slide through your wet folds.

“Soaked for me, huh?” Anakin chuckles.

“Don’t tease me, Ani.”

Anakin eases two fingers into you, curling them along the way to find the spot inside you that makes you clench.

“Or what? We both know you can’t resist anything I do to you.”

You hate that he’s right, but whatever annoyance that was building inside of you quickly disappated as he began to move his fingers in and out of you.

Anakin didn’t spend long opening you up before he replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock.

He did tease you; he slapped your pussy with it before giving you just the slightest amout, enough to stretch but not enough to fill.

“It’s not enough,” you whine.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” he says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “You want more?”

“Yes, please.”

Anakin grips your hips firmly, then slides all the way in. That’s how Anakin goes about everything: all or nothing. You cry out as you adjust to the intrusion, but he doesn’t give you much time befote he starts to rut into you.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Your pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?” he asks.

“Yes, yes, it’s yours,” you whimper.

With each stroke, the sound of his hips hitting your ass fill the room is sharp claps. You can feel the tip of his cock in your stomach after every thrust in, and it punches the air out of your lungs. Anakin fucks you hard and fast, his fingers digging into your hips which will surely bruise.

After a while of this position, Anakin wraps his forearm around your middle and pulls you up so you’re standing, trapped between him and the bed.

His large hand presses on your lower abdomen so he can feel each thrust of his cock inside you, and because he knows the added pressure will make it so much better for you. Anakin hooks his chin over your shoulder and presses his mouth to your ear so he can whisper.

“I fuckin’ own this pussy, got that? I own you.”

Your stomach flips at his vulgar words and you lean your head back on his shoulder and moan.

Anakin can’t help himself when he sees your mouth open wide for him. He reaches up and hooks his finger in your cheek to hold it open, then spits. Some of it lands on your cheeks and lips, but most of it lands on your tongue.

“Swallow that,” he says, his breath hot on your ear.

You do as he said, swallowing his spit obediently. It’s hot and dirty and everything you love, all at once. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating, and unless Anakin physically stops you, you’re going to cum soon.

“You’re so fuckin’ good for me. Bet you’d let me fuck you like this on stage, huh? Serve me while everyone is cheering for me like I’m God.”

Anakin’s voice is low and rough, obviously growing more desperate with each stroke. He pushes you forward and you brace yourself on the bed with your arms. He leans over your back and licks a hot strike over your sweaty neck before sinking his sharp teeth into the tender skin under your ear.

You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain from Anakin’s teeth in your skin. You’re sure it will leave a crescent bruise behind, but you can’t bring yourself to mind right now.

“Let me cum inside you,” he says in your ear.

Finding your words to be lost, you nod, giving him permission to claim you. He makes a noise akin to a growl as his thrusts start to pick up in speed. They become more erratic as he nears closer to his orgasm, and yours slowly builds along with his.

He grabs your hips and thrusts deep inside you, then holds you flush to him as he pumps his load into you. The feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides makes your eyes roll back, and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder. He grabs your throat and presses his lips to your temple.

“Cum around my cock. I want to feel you.”

His other hand reaches down between your legs and begins to toy with your clit. The feeling of his fingers rubbing you in just the right way, his still-hard cock inside you, along with his cum leaking down your pussy work together to throw you over the edge.

You whimper as you begin to cum. Your knees feel weak as your lower stomach blooms with warmth and pleasure.

Anakin revels in the feeling of your walls convulsing around his sensitive dick. If he hadn’t already cum, your pussy would be milking him like this. Once you’ve finished riding out your high, Anakin pulls out of you and lays you down on the bed before joining next to you.

He turns you around so you're facing away from him and he spoons you, pulling your back to his sweaty chest.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whispers.

“Felt so good,” you reply quietly.

Anakin’s cum is still leaking from between your legs, but neither of you care right now. You’re both exhausted, wrung out from sex and the busy day before this.

“Hey,” Anakin says, breaking the silence in the room.

“Hey.”

“Tomorrow night after the show, I’m gonna marry you.”

“What?” you gasp, turning around in his arms.

“I want to make it official. Make sure that everyone knows I’m off the market. That you’re the only one who actually gets any real part of me.”

Anakin may have a reputation of being a diva, an egotistical superstar, which isn’t necessarily untrue, but like this, in private with you, he’s tender, loving, and real.

“So what do you say?” he asks, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

You smile wide and bring him in to kiss. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” you say against his lips.

He kisses you again, deeply, as he confesses all of his love for you with a physical act.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if you’ll get hate from Anakin’s fans for stealing their celebrity crush from them, but you shrug that thought off. On stage, he may belong to everyone, but here, he’s only yours.

#star wars #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker fic #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin fanfiction #anakin fanfic #hayden christensen

2K notes · View notes

eyesxxyou · 2 months

Text

❝ bleeding hearts ❞ (rough hands pt.3)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. rival bands hobie x FTM!reader, conflicting emotions, a lot of sexual tension, bleeding, lots of kissing, masturbation, oral (reader receiving) p-in-v sex, creampie. you let things go too far. now, you deny anything ever happened. with the final days of the competition coming up, you find yourself reconsidering your feelings for Hobie Brown.

wc: 4.5k

↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3

“Again. We need to go again.”

You’ve been at this for hours, practicing your songs for the battle of the bands until your voice was stripped raw of all pleasantness. Now you sounded rough, callous, a scratching against your vocal chords that left you wincing. But you needed to go further, harder, faster. You needed to go until your voice abandoned you.

It was your drummer who said something. “No, I think we should call it a night. You’re gonna lose your voice and we have a competition in a few days.” He was firm, gruff, overriding your demand to keep going with a slapdash period at the end of it. There was no room for argument, especially when all of your bandmates murmured with vague sounds of agreement.

You huff almost like a child who didn’t get his way. “Fine, whatever. You can leave. I’m gonna keep going.” You turn back to the mic, fiddling with the strings of your bass. Your fingers were skinned raw like your throat, you weren’t sure you could use it even if you wanted to. You strummed it while your band packed up, all of them telling you to get some rest. They all noticed something was terribly off about you but whenever asked, you would just grumble and turn away.

Alone, you slowly began to strum your bass and wince with pain as you hummed out the lyrics you’ve been working on. It’s been two weeks since you’ve spoken to Hobie. You’ve seen each other at the venues where the competitions were taking place but would walk right by each other as if the other didn’t even exist. Sometimes you would shoulder check, he would glare. It was as if nothing had changed from the beginning.

But your mind had been swimming with him. He lingered just as you had been trying to avoid. Every time you sat down to scratch down some lyrics, you’d always find them fading into songs about him. How much you love him, how much you hate him. Love and hate are simply the same emotions, you find yourself more and more convinced of it everyday you spend apart from him.

You only stop practicing when your fingers start to bleed onto the wire strings. You look at it, the blood seeping from your fingertips, hot and wet with your desire. You wished your heart would burst and blood would fill your throat, your lungs, your chest. And you would collapse, suffocating on the sweetness of your love.

You put bandages on your fingers and hoped the blood wouldn't seep through in the night. Collapsing onto your bed in only your underwear, you let out a weary sigh. You gazed at the cracked ceiling of your flat, your mind swirling with thoughts of Hobie against your will. You wanted to rid yourself of him, expel him from your body like vomit. You needed him out and away for fear you might decay into your affections for him.

You thought of him. His face, his hands, his cock. The baritone of his voice rang in your ears, singing out notes of pleasure for you. His hands worshiping your waist, his lips pressing kisses to your throat.

Your days usually ended like this, with your body suddenly nude of all clothing, your fingers viciously rubbing your hard t-dick. You imagined Hobie's fingers, stroking through your sweet slick, gathering it on his fingers before slipping one into you with little resistance to be had.

You let out a gasp and whimper as you slid in a second finger. Though it felt good, it didn't feel good enough. It wasn't the same, a poor replication of all you wanted. Your fingers weren't quite long enough, too short and stout to be his long, slender appendages, but they would make due as it were. After all, your days sleeping with Hobie were over and you’d have to quickly become used to your own fingers again.

You hated that you missed him even beyond the sex. It would be one thing if you missed his fingers, his tongue, the sweet stretch of his length inside you. But you missed him. You simply didn't know how to handle it. The notion that you liked him, feelings boiling to the surface against your will, it terrified you.

Your orgasm was unsatisfactory and left you feeling far worse off than before. You looked to the fingers of your other hand and found a few splotches of blood on the bandages.

The battle of the bands spanned 3 weeks. Bands from all over would compete against each other for the prize of a record deal. So far, The Mutts have beaten 3 others. As it turns out, the Mary Jane's were performing today after beating 2 others.

Your bleeding heart in your hands.

You were uninterested. Or– you were pretending to be at least. Roaming the venue packed full of bands of friend and foe, you make your way to the bar to get a drink. It was deserved you thought. You had caught sight of Hobie from across the way, talking to a guy. It could have been something innocent but he was smiling too much, his fingers fiddling with something on the guy's jacket like he used to do to you. He had moved on so quickly.

Something jagged lodged itself in your throat, anger simmered to the surface. You wanted to go over and punch him but to everyone around, that would be uncalled for. You pretended to be unphased by the sight but you weren't sure if you were doing a good job of hiding your seething anger.

Hobie glanced to his side and caught your gaze. Immediately, he retracted his hand from the stranger and his smile fell. He looked away, you did the same as your drink came. Fuck him. Who needs that kind of drama in their lives?

It was The Mary Janes’ turn to go on. You didn't bother to turn around to look at the stage as they came on. It was loud, people chanting and cheering, intermingled with sharp whistles and booming claps. You nursed your drink and kept your head low.

“One, two- One, two, three, four!” With the count, the band started playing, loud and fast and so messily chaotic it was cohesive. You expected something anti-authoritariant in nature, something you had heard from them in the past. But as Hobie began to sing, you found that the lyrics were rather lovely in nature, hidden behind gruffy, loud vocals and louder instrumentals.

The lyrics were for you. Or rather– about you. You could tell it so clearly. In a perfect world, you would have swooned and met him backstage with a passionate kiss, declaring your love for him. But all you could feel was the sinking pit opening up in your chest to swallow you whole.

“My hands rough with your love

Sweet lips like a dove

Please don’t say goodnight

To the one thing that brings me alight”

You got up from the bar, slapping down a few quid and ducking out into the crowd. You waded between clammy bodies, grimacing at the humidity and scent of fresh sweat in the air. You needed to get out of here. How could you possibly listen to the retelling of you relationship sung out before a bunch of unknowing strangers?

“To be or not to be

With sweet release we come to see

The way we stand in the debris

Of our fallen tragedy”

His voice was beautiful. You couldn't stand it, the way the notes slithered around your throat and tightened into a choking hold. With a lump in your throat, you felt the need to sob, to scream, to tear your hair out bit by bit.

“What is this all for

And endless swirl of fresh gore

Why did we even start

When all we’d be left with is bleeding hearts”

You made your way backstage where his voice faded into vague murmurs and you found a secluded area to let your tears flow freely.

You hadn't even noticed when Hobie and his Mary Janes' finished, their end marked by unanimous cheering and whistles. If only you had known the way Hobie rushed off stage to find you. He had seen you while performing, the distressed look upon your pretty face as you frantically looked for a way out. He wondered if he had gone too far. He hadn't meant to upset you. It was intended to be an apology.

People were congratulating Hobie as he made his way by. He didn't care for them. He just wanted to find you. And he did, he found you in the corner, your shoulders trembling. He could tell instantly that you were crying and felt all the more terrible about it. “Luv–”

You stood up straight from your hunched position and whipped around to look at him. Your cheeks were glossy, tears streaking your flesh like fresh cuts. His lyrics had carved a gory wound in your chest. You quickly began to wipe your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

He never meant to hurt you, never meant to make you cry. It was just vague enough for no one but you to understand it. It was for you. It was all for you. How could you not understand that.

You sniffled and crossed your arms over your chest as if to hold yourself. You turned away from him, ready to walk off and leave it there. But he grabbed your arm before you could leave. You attempted to shake yourself free but his grip was too tight.

He looked at you without a word, brows pinched, eyes desperate, an apology. It was as much an apology as a beg for things to return to how they used to be. A declaration that he missed you.

You were shaking, staring at him with wide eyes and trembling lips. You shoved him away from you. You didn't know how to handle feelings, tenderness, gory wounds and bleeding hearts. You did not want his heart, you told yourself. You did not want it beating in your palms, bloody and full of love. You could not kiss it the way he wanted. You could not love it the way one needed.

Can't you see that he loves you? Can't you see that he’s laying himself in the middle of the road and letting you run him over? He’s placed his wounded heart in your hands. You shook your head and left him without a word, tears like rivers down your face. Hobie watched you retreat, his heart at his feet.

Oh, how love terrified you. The messiness, the gore, the tears of it all. You had every reason to avoid it. But it had seized you so viciously, so suddenly, and left you gasping for air. A cavity in your chest where your heart should be, left somewhere in the clutter of Hobie’s houseboat.

But a part of you hopes he sleeps with it, holds it in his arms and caresses it with his hands that once protected you.

Rough hands, sweet lips, bleeding hearts.

You avoid Hobie and he avoids you. It’s a mutual thing. Your sneers at each other return from a distance. Shoulder checks and glowering glances between the love songs Hobie sings during the competition. Your minds run in a parallel, still lingering on each other in the dead of night.

And by the grace of some higher power, like a sick joke for the amusement of others, it seems as though for the final round, The Mutts and The Mary Jane's are being pitted against each other. Both bands came to life with the idea of being superior to the other in an official setting. Whoever lost would never live it down.

“We’re gonna crush them.” Your drummer twirled his stick between his fingers, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the Mary Janes passing through. You and Hobie caught each other's gaze, a silent pact to never speak of what happened between you two. It would be something of the past, a fling, a brief blip in history. No one had to know of the way your chest lunged for him.

It was the night before the final day of the competition. The night before your Mutts faced off against the Mary Janes. You had told your band to get rest while you played well into the night, scribbling down Hobie’s name into your lyric book before times than you were comfortable with, scratching them out just as fast.

You glanced at your house phone in the corner, your fingers thrumming against your guitar strings aimlessly. You knew Hobie’s number by heart, your fingers already typing out the numbers against the flat of your bass. You wanted to call, to hear his voice to ease your anxieties. How ridiculous would it be to call your competitor before your competition?

But before you could have the will to stop yourself, you had set your bass down and walked over the the phone, taking it up off the stand and punching in the specific pattern of numbers to call him. The phone rang, once, then twice, giving you just enough time to regret your decision just as Hobie picked up.

“‘Ello?”

You were silent for a long moment. You could still hang up if you wanted to…If you wanted to. But you cleared your throat of the sudden hitch of your breath and let out a shaky sigh, “Hobie?”

You could hear him cough across the line. “Luv.” His voice was tender in your ear and soothed you more than you would have liked any other time, but you needed it. Needed him. Your heart pulsed, your fingers swirled the coiled wire of the phone line.

There was silence for a long while. The two of you listened to each other's soft breathing and found comfort in the sound of the life within you. So many words to be said, so little will to say it. Your brows pinched, you caught your bottom lip between your lips.

“I’m sorry.” You babbled out. You were sorry for everything. For being a coward, for running away, for tossing his heart right back in his face when all he wanted was to make things right with you. “I'm such a fucking coward, aren't I?” You let out a weak chuckle.

Hobie chuckled with you, the low sweet rumble of his voice making you shudder. “A lil’, but ain’t we all?” There was something oddly comforting about his words. He soothed his fingers over your cheek and told you sweetly that it was all okay. A flaw that wasn't a fault of your own.

“I'm scared.”

“O’ what?”

You held the receiver against your face, holding it with both hands, holding it as if it were him in your arms. “Of you.” You’re terrified by him, the feelings he stirred up in your chest you weren't sure you were ready to handle. You don't know why you’re doing this, why you’re telling him this. Did you hope to hear him say he loved you and he was scared of it too?

“Would i’ make ya feel better y'know ‘m scared o’ ya too?” It was a tender admission. Two people, in rival bands, so scared to love each other, in love. What a sick joke. “But who isn' scared? I never let bein’ scared stop me.”

“Why are we doing this?”

Hobie hummed. You could almost hear him shrugging through the phone, his smile. “Why shouldn' we be doin’ this?” He was so lighthearted and sweet through the grain of the phone speaker. You kept curling the phone line around your finger, curling and uncurling, curling and uncurling. “Our bands-”

“Fuck ‘em.” Hobie scoffed. “‘M no’ gonna let ‘em get in the way of wha’ I wan’. They need t’ grow up.”

You chewed at the soft inner flesh of your cheek. “Can I come over?” You almost whisper into the phone. Your voice pleaded for him not to deny you of your request. How cruel could he be to deny a lonely, lovesick man his simple ask? You’re lucky that Hobie was not as much of a dick as you always believed him to be. He hummed. “Ya know ya can come over wheneva ya wan'.”

You said your sweet goodbyes and hung up the phone before going to put your shoes on. You left your flat in a run and caught a cab down to the docks where Hobie’s houseboat resided.

The salty wind whipped at your face as you boarded the boat, your shoes thumping against the hardwood as you made your way to the door. The nights were on from the inside, you could hear Hobie’s rummaging behind the door. He had been waiting for you.

He opened the door as soon as you knocked, standing before you in just a pair of sweatpants hanging lowly on his hips. He was beautiful and tragic and your stomach churned upon seeing him standing there before you. You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck without as word, pressing your lips to his. The kindness one man extends to another.

Hobie’s hands were on your hips, dragging you so close you body pressed to his. Tender kisses shared between timid lips and wet tongues, Hobie pulled you into his home and closed the door behind you, pressing you gently to the wall with all his body. He wanted you to feel him, his desire, his need, his want, his love.

His fingers sunk into the plush of your flesh. His lips caressed yours, his tongue lapped into your mouth and teased at the sweetness of your mouth. Your desire spilled out all over each other, but you were gentle, your hands tenderly roaming. You sighed into his mouth and he swallowed it as if it were the only sustenance he'd ever need.

You placed your hands on his arms and broke your kiss to look up at him with soft, scared eyes. You both knew, if you did this, there was no going back.

“I’ll take care o’ ya.” Hobie assured you, leaning down to kiss the corners of your sweet mouth. You caught his lips, the taste of him making you delirious.

You peeled each other's clothes off piece by piece, your fingers tracing, your eyes admiring. “Yer beautiful.” Hobie murmured dizzily between kisses against your throat. He had never complimented you like that before. It came out like he had been waiting so very long to say that. Your face was hot, you purred with satisfaction. “You’re beautiful too.”

Hobie led you over to his bed, messy as if he had just been laying in it. He had you sit at the end and asked you to lay back as he began to kneel down before you. You understood what he wanted to do. Every time before, it had been a hasty matter. Frantic, as if you were running out of time. But he had gone slow now, lowering to his knees and carefully parted your knees. He brought them up over his shoulders and with tender lips, began to kiss your inner thighs.

His breath was warm, fanning your thighs delicately. His lips traced a path along your supple flesh, fingers gripping into the meat of your legs. You fluttered where you needed him most as his breath kissed your clit. “Hobie, please–” You gasped as his tongue licked you where you were wet and open.

He was sweet. Tonguing at your open cunt gently. He dragged the tip to your hardened clit where you shuddered and moaned as he traced stars across the bud. He kissed you there like they were your lips, like they could kiss back, drooling and suckling where he knew you liked it most.

He tasted you. Your musky sweetness, the sweat from practicing all day. He liked your tanginess. You didn't taste like something artificial. He laid broad strokes against you, spindling dulcet mewls from your trembling lips. Your fingers curled into his sheets, back arching away from his bed.

He sucked at your clit, rolling the rosebud between his lips. Long ringed fingers pressing into your thighs, keeping them from claiming down on his head. Your legs trembled with every messy lick of his languid tongue.

“Yer so good f’me.” Hobie hummed against you. You cried out. Suddenly you found yourself eternally grateful you were on a boat, completely removed from other people. You would have been embarrassed by how shamelessly you moaned for him.

Your fingers were pulling at his wicks. Suddenly feeling sappy, you wanted his lips against yours and his length filling you to the brim. You wanted to press your hand on your tummy and feel him place his love there. ‘Pour yourself into me and I will give you the same kindness,’ you wanted to say.

Hobie understood you wanted to go further by your needy tugs and began a tender path up your body with his lips. Your pelvis, navel, diaphragm, sternum. And when he reached your mouth, he had been nestled neatly between your legs with his heavy cock lying against your tummy as if to demonstrate how deep he would be once inside.

“Be gentle.” You told him, murmuring against his lips, your arms around his neck, eyes glossy and hazy. Hobie kissed you again, neat and sweet. It did not lack passion but it was contained. He did not want to scare you off with it, let it loose like a dog off a leash. You could tell he was holding back and kissed him deeper, coaxing it out with your tongue and teeth. He laid his passion out before you as if to say, ‘here is my heart, take it or leave it, but it will always be yours’.

As Hobie eased his way into your wanton opening, you gasped into his mouth and your entire body shook with the sweet stretch. Your moan was high and shrill with pain and pleasure and all the things that make them one. Hobie's hands grasped your hips to keep you still, his lips pressing to your throat blooming with roses of hickeys.

You held each other as if to hide yourselves. You felt terribly vulnerable and bare with him so snuggly inside you. It didn't help when he got up and sat on his haunches for a better angle. Your hips were raised, back arched, your body laid, splayed out for him to admire.

Hobie rolled his hips into yours and you felt him brush your cervix. It made your walls flutter. You watched him falter a bit at the feeling of your soft wetness. Yes, he was right, all your rough edges and biting words was all a plot to hide how you truly longed for — and feared — the gentleness of love.

Hobie did as told and was rather gentle with you. He had never been so before, always in a rush, always fingering you until your body did things it had never done before, never leaving you until he had thoroughly satisfied himself with your orgasms and crying. But he looked as though he struggled to be gentle, as if it was something so foreign to him. He had never been gentle before but he wanted to be for you.

Two bodies and their struggle at love-making, you rolled your hips into each other, whisper-like moans and shuddering breaths fill the space between you. Hobie thrusted into you with a slow push of his hips, groaning at the way your greedy hole welcomed him. “So good.” He murmured lowly.

You were purring with heavy, hazy eyes, gasping as you’re filled to the brim. You felt terribly close to him. Yes physically, but also emotionally. Your moans laced in with one another, mingled in the air with your humid sweat.

Everything was quite soft. Your skin stuck together due to the thin layer of sweat accumulating on your flesh. It was as if your bodies did not want to part, the feeling was too sweet. Your toes pointed and your legs shook. Hobie soothed a hand up and down your thighs. “I’s okay. Go ‘head ‘n take i’.”

“Hobie~” You sang for him. Long gone were the days of heavy petting and questioning if you’d ever have the courage to go further with each other. The torture of will you won't you ended by the sweet relief of intercourse.

You grasped at Hobie’s hands on your house and pressed your hips down until you could feel him pressing into your intestines. You pressed your hand there and felt him move in and out of you. “God!”

“Does I'm hurt?” Hobie slowed to a paused, holding you close, ready to adjust if it did. You viciously shook your head and reached out for him. “No…come kiss me.” Your voice was bare and full of a vulnerability you would have otherwise been embarrassed by. But he had stripped you of your humiliation and left you needy and wanting for love.

Hobie was eager to do as told, his heart swelling at your neediness. He came and he kissed you and you purred some more. Lips press, tongues push, the gentle sighs and moans into each other's mouth make you giggle softly against his lips. You hook your legs around his hips and pull him in.

There's a building in your lower abdomen, the beginnings of an orgasm tightening in your tummy. “I'm close.” You whisper between kisses. Hobie’s hands caress your body, sliding between your legs to rub at your aching clit. “‘Ow romantic would i’ be if we came together?” Hobie could feel himself approaching as well.

You squeezed him tight and held his face as you kissed him hard to shut him up and to hide the fact that you did want to cum with him.

It was a gentle affair, a building of pressure, heightened moans into each other's mouths. Your felt warm on the inside, the spilling of white goo inside of you, painting you white. Your walls pulsed with the feeling of your orgasm ravishing your body. A kaleidoscope of colors hazed your vision, stars dotted your gaze as you tossed your head back against the pillow and clutched Hobie tight. Your toes pointed, back arched, body shuddered. Your world collapsed and came back together all in one breath.

Hobie struggled to keep himself from collapsing on top of your lovely body. His hands gripped the sheets beside your head. His body trembled. He pulled out swiftly because he knew if he spent any longer inside of you he may cum again and fall even deeper in love.

Heavy panting as Hobie falls on the bed beside you, uncharacteristically pulling you close. After your rendezvous, you’d usually put your clothes back on and make your own hasty exit before things can get too sappy, too emotional, but you’re long past that now.

Hobie pressed kisses to the side of your neck. “Sleep here t' night.” He almost pleaded with you but Hobie Brown would never be caught dead begging.

“So we can wish each other good luck tomorrow morning?” You ask, looking down at him as he rests his head on your chest and looks up at you. Hobie smiled a bit, chuckling.

“‘O course.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #atsv hobie brown #atsv hobie #atsv spiderpunk #hobie brown x ftm!reader #hobie brown x trans!reader #hobei brown smut #atsv hobie smut #spiderpunk smut

152 notes · View notes

babybatss-blog · 3 months

Text

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Sirius black x reader, 950 words

Authors note: I’ve never really been a pop fan, but my foster mum has really gotten me into Taylor, Sabrina and Chappell so here we are! I thought please please please by Sabrina carpenter was so Sirius coded (I love the man but he’s def not a textbook bf) so I wanted to write a little fic about him loosely based on the song <3

Cw: alcohol consumption, sexual suggestions, grinding, slight swearing

His raven hair glistens under the party lights, flowing like silk as he turns his head theatrically during

the enthusiastic stories he tells to his many enthralled friends. His voice is like whiskey, warming up your insides and addictive to the taste, rich yet intriguing. And his smile, oh his smile, sparkling with that strong vigour only he can have despite all he’s been through in his life. This man is known as the one and only Sirius Black, the man you have fallen inexplicably in love with and can no longer hide your feelings for anymore.

“I don’t know what you see in that man” Lily says, breaking your adoration with her ever familiar judgment. It’s pretty clear she’s never been a fan of him or his friends, often complaining about their over confidence and attitude that everything revolves around them. You wish she was wrong, but deep down you know she’s right. Sirius is known to be a playboy, always with a new conquest and in detention for some dumb prank he got up to. But nonetheless, you can’t help but melt under his touch, not even bothering to protest when he asked you out just a couple weeks ago. “I know Lils. But he told me he wanted something more with me, and I really think he was telling the truth. Who knows, maybe he’ll change!” Lily sighs a deep breath, shaking her head at your stupidity. “Again with the I can fix him act? Merlin, you’re so dumb sometimes.”

Sirius’ eyes flash over to the two of you, sitting on a couch together. They gleam with appreciation towards you, his smile softening under your gaze. Although he would never want to admit it, Sirius feels some type of new emotion with you, that he’s never felt with anyone else. The way you laugh, how you focus in class and how your face twists when you listen to him is his version of heaven, something he dreams about every night and craves every living moment. Instead of randomly confessing his undying and unwavering appreciation for you he opts to just strut over to you for some friendly flirting, possibly pulling you into the bathroom for a quick snog when one of you gets too impatient.

He exits his conversation and swaggers over to you, swirling his cheap beer in his defined hand and displaying a lopsided grin. “Evans.” He says courteously, before turning his full attention over to you. “You look pretty tonight.” “Could say the same about you Sirius. Having a good night?” He looks you up and down, causing that familiar flutter in your stomach. “Better now I’ve seen you. Want to come and dance with me?” You look over at Lily to gauge her reaction, instead just getting an eye roll. You can tell she hates this interaction almost as much as you like it. But you smile at her and shrug, jumping up to grab Sirius’ hand. “Sure, I guess so.” He chuckles at your feigned nonchalance, chugging the rest of the beer and putting it down, before leading you to the dance floor.

It's packed, filled with drunk people grinding up against one another and jumping along to the heavy beat. Sirius, craving attention as always, drags you to the middle then artfully pulls you in by the waist. You don’t waste a minute either to soak into his touch, throwing your arms around his shoulders and swaying to the beat. He looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world, but you on the other hand, notice the many eyes focused onto you. A couple you recognise as old flings of his, giving you nasty looks. They probably think your just temporary, another body for him to throw away. And truthfully, sometimes you wonder the same. Everyone has some bad experience with him, whether it’s a one-night stand or scuff after some offensive joke. He’s possibly the worst person your friends could have imagined you with, each worrying for your safety when you told them.

“You alright?” He asks, his grey eyes piercing into your soul. You can deny it all you want, but he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “What are you planning to do with me Black?” You ask bluntly. “You said we were going to be different, but something in me tells me that’s a lie. Don’t fuck around Sirius, I don’t want heartbreak with you.” He stops dancing, sensing the depth of your tone. “Shit.” He mutters. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that. I know I’m not the best of guys, but I don’t want heartbreak either. I won’t fuck you over, and I won’t embarrass you too, despite what everyone might say. I really like you.”

Your hands slide up to his cheeks, holding them with a mix of concern and respect. “Please, Sirius.” He nods. Somehow, you see his eyes glistening with sadness, although he quickly conceals it. “I promise.” You lean in, kissing his soft face. It crosses your mind that people might be watching you, but the way his lips touch yours devolves any previous worries and the moment is just yours to saviour.

#sirius black x reader #hp marauders #marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black #sirius orion black #the marauders #sirius x reader #sirus black angst #babybatss blog

156 notes · View notes

sunshineandspencer · 4 months

Text

All the world's a stage

A/N: Have I been plagued by musical!reader and Spencer ever since I set my eyes upon him and Lila? Yes, have I ever had an outlet before? No, suffer the brainrot with me.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Musical!Reader.

Summary: A case takes them to a musical theatre performance and Spencer finds himself utterly besotted for the pretty woman on stage.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: talk of disfigurement but no details, little fluff fic for my soul

Musical theatre is an immense part of her life, she grew up surrounded by it through her entire family, and did dance lessons until she realised that doing tap dance in a leotard probably isn’t going to get her very many places in the future.

So, the minute she left home to go to college, she got a theatrical degree and got herself out in the world. Made a name for herself.

Which is how she found herself playing Jenna in Waitress, absolutely her favourite role so far.

Unfortunately, a week into the show’s run, there had been an incident. No one was quite able to tell her what was going on, but her castmates kept getting replaced with understudies. Until, finally, someone better than the local police arrived.

They came in quietly, which is very good etiquette, and spoke quietly with the director while they practised. While the show was momentarily put on hold for the next few days, rehearsals wouldn’t stop, meaning she was now singing Used To Be Mine with all the emotion she can hold with Federal Agents in the crowd.

Thankfully she’s partially blinded by the lights as she sings, or else she would’ve seen him.

Spencer sat down to wait for the song to finish, and immediately found himself frozen. Whoever this is, she has to be the most talented person he’s ever heard in his life, and while he doesn’t often listen to musical theatre, he’d make an excuse for her.

Ignoring everything around him to just watch this woman give the performance of a lifetime. It’s only the rehearsal but she was treating it like a packed house.

The minute it was over and the stage lights went down, house lights flickering on so that the cast could be questioned, he jumped up and started clapping. Eyes bright as he didn’t realise that no one else had been watching her like he had.

It was impossible for her not to notice him, a bright smile on her face as he realised he was drawing attention to herself.

Laughing softly, she curtsied just for him, loving that she could see the little blur of his face turning a soft red. That giddy feeling settled high in her chest as everyone was sent off to their changing rooms to be questioned in order.

By the time it got round to her turn, a knock on her door swiftly turned into its opening and being met with the stoic man she saw talking to her director. Standing, she held a hand out for him to shake, giving her name as she greeted him.

“SSA Aaron Hotchner, we’re from the BAU.”

“Hi, no one has really told us what’s going on, but it’s not hard to realise that people just.. aren’t here.”

Smiling as he offered for her to sit down, the rest of his agents filtering into the room and starting to look around. She knew she probably wouldn’t be a suspect, but that doesn’t stop her from being nervous at having FBI agents in her dressing room.

Agent Hotchner was talking to her, gently explaining that her castmates had been injured and disfigured, which is why they had been called in. It was very unusual to have so many attacks with all the victims coming from the same theatre, which she could definitely agree with.

Then, as if the Gods themselves handcrafted the interaction, the man that had applauded for her earlier walked in with flowers. She stood up to greet him, a little quicker than she did for Agent Hotchner, which all his coworkers immediately noticed. Hurriedly, he looked between the flowers in his hands and then back to her, his cheeks flushing and jaw dropping.

“Oh! This- This isn’t-- I mean, you were great! Amazing! The best portrayal I’ve ever seen, and you sang.. s-so well.” He saw the look he was getting from Hotch behind her and cleared his throat. “Bu- but these aren’t from me. They were left at the desk, had your name on.”

Granted, it did sting and she had to resist the urge to playfully pout about it, thinking it might actually cause the poor guy to short circuit.

“Thank you for getting it for me, and for applauding. That was very sweet of you..”

“S-Spencer-- Spencer Reid, Doctor. Uh, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

Walking over to take the bouquet from him, smiling down at it and loving that she could see his blush in the corner of her eyes as she brushed her fingers across his. It was a massive bouquet with so many flowers it felt overwhelming, so she moved it to her dressing table and turned back to him.

“Well, thank you, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He could’ve sworn they were the only two people in the room, and he had to look away from her. Fidgeting with his buzzing fingers and focusing wholly on the bouquet instead of the way she made him want to melt.

Something was itching at the back of his head as he looked at them, it was.. too much.

Rocking back on his feet, aching for a way to ground himself, he pointed out the bouquet to the rest of the team. Pretending not to notice the rest of them grinning at him.

“Orchid, lily, anemone, gloriosa, delphinium, clematis and genista, it’s an awfully overcrowded bouquet. Typically, flowers were used to send messages, usually to people of significance in their lives. There’s a lot going on here, but if I’m right it should mean an ‘all-consuming love’, from a significant other that’s either really sweet or he doesn’t really know anything about flower language. You have.. a very sweet boyfriend ma’am.”

Okay, maybe he was trying to determine whether or not she does have a boyfriend, but he could hide that with a work reason. Knowing that if she didn’t, whoever sent these likely sent them for a reason. Since the show hasn’t actually run today, but they knew she’d be here, that didn’t bode well either.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m incredibly single right now.”

While she was smiling at him, the rest of the team turned to face them a little more. You didn’t just send a bouquet to someone saying you had an ‘all-consuming love’ for them when you didn’t know them. There was no card either, which made it a little more suspicious.

Especially when there has been someone disfiguring her castmates - people who played directly alongside her - so that they can’t get onto stage. Onto stage with her.

Emily walked over, realising that all the attacks were likely connected to her, and they’d struck out massively at finding her immediately. Now they could put her somewhere safe (and have Spencer watch over her).

“Ma’am, were you close with the other castmates?”

“Oh, I mean, somewhat? We all worked together, but I’m newer on the cast so I don’t really hang out with anyone yet.” It’s dawning on her now, they can see it in the subtle shift to how she’s standing and the brush of her hair out her eyes. “Is this.. my fault? Did someone do all that because of me?”

She looked to Spencer, as if expecting him to answer, and he immediately felt the need to step forward. Gently holding onto her upper arms to stabilise her, knowing how easy it is to get lost in your own head and not wanting that for her.

Of course, his own aversion to touching people and germs is nothing in the face of helping to calm this woman.

“For whatever reason this person is doing this, it isn’t your fault. We’ll take you to the station and I’ll- I’ll stay with you until they’re caught. Okay?”

His eyes fly to Hotch, but the man just nods at him, so he picks up her bag and leads her out of the dressing room. Leaving the team behind, buzzing with the need to talk about their resident genius and his obvious crush on the performer.

All of them just watch the door swing shut until Morgan huffs out a laugh, going back to looking through the storage cupboard.

“He never comforts me like that.”

Thankfully, they managed to catch the guy pretty quickly once Spencer took her to the station. Since he had no way to watch her, like he had apparently been doing since she joined the cast, he went a little crazy.

Genuinely trying to break into the station to both see her and attempt to disfigure Spencer since he was now the closest person to her.

The man, however, was an idiot, and got caught almost immediately because he was carrying the exact same bouquet he’d gotten for her before. Not even getting through the reception. Leaving her and Spencer completely unaware in the break room, slowly getting to know each other.

Now, she is convinced she could fall in love with this man so easily. It’s hard not to imagine a little life with him. He’s an absolute sweetheart.

When he offered to drive her back to her shitty little apartment, she jumped at the chance. Much to his team’s continued amusement. Spencer didn’t often get a lot of attention, but when he did it was adorable to see him trying so hard.

The drive back was filled with an immediate panic, his phone connected to the car - which he didn’t even know could happen - and it started playing his most recently looked at song.. which happened to be from the Waitress playlist. Cue him hurriedly mashing at the radio to get it to stop, only for her to lean in and press the right button to change it to the stations again. Assuring him that she finds it cute that he was listening to the show she was in.

For the most part, she talked about the other shows she had been in, and tried to coax out some stories from him just to get him comfortable. Unfortunately it was a very short drive.

Undeterred by that, she showed him where to park and invited him up, just to see her to her front door after such a harrowing experience. He picked up on the sarcasm, and nearly fell out of the car to be with her.

Although, when they finally got there and she unlocked the door, she turned and leant on the doorframe, smiling at him softly as he resisted the urge to look into her home.

“Thank you for bringing me home Spencer, that was very sweet of you.”

“Of course, it was the least I could do.”

She bit her lip, wondering if she really could do what she was thinking. It probably wasn’t a very good idea, but then she watched his eyes dart down to her lips and then past her into her hallway and immediately back to her eyes.

Humming softly, she reached up to smooth his tie that definitely needed to be fixed.

“And you.. don’t have a girlfriend?”

He shook his head so fast that she was worried about him hurting himself, but that thought was quickly overtaken when he parroted her words from earlier ‘incredibly single right now’. Nodding along, she tightened her grip on his tie and tugged him closer.

Kissing him very lightly before pulling away, barely a brush. He would’ve sworn that he imagined it if it weren’t for the giddy looking smile on her face, backing away into her apartment.

“You have my number right? Please call me, I’d love to talk to you some more.”

“Yeah! Y-Yeah, of course, I’ll text you.” More breathless as he forced himself to stop looking at her lips, giving a tight smile. “I can do that.”

“Of course you can sweetheart, goodnight.”

Smiling softly at his wispy ‘goodnight’ and shutting the door.

Leaving Spencer in the hallway alone to react to what had happened. Eventually, a giddy little laugh passed his lips and he needed to move. Pacing quickly and in a small line outside her door, wanting to calm back down before having to drive to the hotel.

The fact that she had kissed him and wanted to see him again was insane. Even though he’s in another state, she doesn’t seem to care, so neither will he.

But just as he was about to whip out his phone and text her, not caring about the social etiquette in waiting, he just wanted to text, her door swung open again. And it looked like she’d been similarly celebrating on the other side, if her messy hair and red face were anything to go by.

“Uhm.. hi, would you like to come in instead? I have a spare room.. and a bottle of wine?”

Holding out her hand for him to take, desperately hoping he says yes. And even though he’s probably going to miss his flight in the morning, how could he ever say no to a woman who looks at him like that.

Slipping his hand into hers and allowing himself to be dragged into the apartment, the two of them happily discussing things like dinner and movies they could watch. Is it wrong to say that he’s glad her castmates got disfigured if it meant they could meet?

Probably.. he’ll keep that to himself for now.

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #fluff #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid oneshot

163 notes · View notes