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#no matter how many shots i take you're still on my mind
etherealily · 3 days
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guilt // f.odair
[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.
Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.
Desc. : But is it in his nature?
You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.
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'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.
See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.
You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.
One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.
However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.
And you hated Finnick all the more for it.
Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.
You couldn't respect him.
But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.
And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.
"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.
"It's nice."
He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."
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"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."
Click.
"And this is for..."
"Modelling."
"For the Capitol?"
"Who else?"
You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.
"I'm joking. It's for me."
"For you?"
"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."
"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"
"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."
"What will you do with the pictures?"
"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."
Thank fuck.
"Why me?"
"You're a good subject."
Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.
"I'm a subject? Like... math?"
He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.
"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."
"Oh."
He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"
"It's pretty."
"So are you."
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.
You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"
"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."
"You've had it for almost a decade?"
He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."
"What was it like, though? When you won?"
"Won? Won what?"
"The Games."
"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."
"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"
"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."
You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.
You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"
The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.
A white rose.
It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.
In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.
"They're pretty nice."
"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."
"I don't know what else to say."
He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."
That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.
"What?"
He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."
"What? No."
"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."
"Yeah, because I was clothed."
"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"
What?!
"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."
"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."
"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."
'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."
You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.
"Please don't make me do this."
"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.
Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.
Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.
"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."
You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"
That scares you more. "What?"
"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.
As if your answer would change his self perception.
"Please don't kill my family."
"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"
"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"
Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"
Well, of course.
"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."
He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.
"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."
Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.
But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.
"Wasn't planning to."
"Don't tell anyone about today."
"Wasn't planning to."
"Stay."
Wasn't planning to.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."
The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."
"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."
Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.
"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."
"Dinner?"
"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."
"What's that?"
"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."
"What's chicken?"
"Another kind of bird."
"Oh."
He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"
"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."
He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."
You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.
~~~~
Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.
Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.
You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.
"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.
"It's really fucking good."
He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"
"Doesn't everyone, always?"
He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"
CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?
"Sure."
That was divine, too.
"You like that, too?"
"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."
"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."
Was that... disdain? Interesting.
"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."
He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"
You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."
"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."
You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"
He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.
Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.
"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."
Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.
"You should come and wave me off."
"Do we know each other well enough for that?"
"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"
Yes. Little Faye.
"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."
The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.
"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."
"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.
"She's a Career."
"Yes, but can she?"
"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."
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His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?
You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.
So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.
Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.
Considering you'd only known each other one night.
Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'
Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.
Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.
Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.
~~~~
You can't bring yourself to watch the news.
Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.
But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.
It's because of Faye.
"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.
"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"
"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."
Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.
You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.
As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.
As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.
And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.
Dimples.
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"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.
You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."
You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."
"Not in it?"
"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."
"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.
"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.
Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.
Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.
"What's that look?"
He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.
"What's that look?", you repeat.
"What look?"
"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.
"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.
He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.
Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.
"Yes, it was."
"I'm sorry. What do you think?"
"I look like the 12 escort."
"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.
"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.
That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.
He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.
"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"
"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."
You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."
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The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.
He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.
And then he does it.
His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.
He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.
You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"
"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.
"Can't sleep?"
"No."
"Scared?"
"Mhm."
"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"
"No, for Faye."
Silence. "Oh."
"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."
"You can see her."
You can what?
"When?"
"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"
"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'
He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"
"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"
"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."
You nod.
He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"
He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."
~~~~
The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.
"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.
He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.
"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."
It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.
But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.
"Where is she?"
"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.
The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.
"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.
"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."
"How much did I have on her?"
"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."
"Fine, fine, but now how much?"
The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.
"Finnick?"
He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?
"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.
"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.
"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"
Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."
Can also swim. Fuck.
"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.
Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.
There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.
Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.
The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.
"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.
"What if something pulled her under?"
Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.
"I'm sure it's just a strategy."
One that he remembers teaching her.
Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.
For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.
The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.
And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.
He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the midlly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.
Suddenly, it stops.
Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.
A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.
Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.
Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.
No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.
Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.
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frownyalfred · 3 days
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I get so much criticism on my fics and don't know how to deal with it
I already took down a chapter and rewrote it after 80% of the comments were literally why it was bad and after uploading the edited version again, I still get (not even constructive)criticism
Im this 🤏 close to just delete everything past chapter one and leave it as a one shot
Idk what to do, how do you deal with that kind Of stuff (or do you even get comments like that too?)
I'm so sorry, anon. I've had that happen a lot in the last few years, and I know how tough it can feel. Don't give into the hate if you can avoid it -- don't let the turkeys get you down.
People who leave comments like that aren't there to read the fic and enjoy it. They're there to make you upset, and no matter how many times you rewrite things or how much "better" your chapter is, they will still be mean. They will still leave shitty comments. There's no convincing them.
take a breath, remind yourself that you do this for free, because you enjoy it, and not because 2-3 shitty assholes on the internet exist. If you delete your stuff just because they don't like it, you're letting them win. (deleting things on your own for your own mental health is different, in my mind)
Block them, suspend guest comments, do everything your fanfiction website allows and then continue doing whatever you were doing before. Sometimes the hatred online truly makes your body feel like this is life or death -- but it really isn't, I promise. You're writing, you're not hurting anyone, and anything else after that is optional.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 7 months
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Hi! I don't know if you are open to requests and if you're not completely ignore this request!!
Could I get a drabble/one-shot of Husk or Alastor finding their wife from the living world has come to the hotel? Like this is their first time seeing her after many years? Thank you and I Hope you have a good day/night!!
A/n: I'm gonna do both!
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Husk:
It was that stupid fucking smirk that pissed him off, why did that prick look so fucking smug?! "What the fuck are you looking at?"
Alastor hummed turning his back to the cat demon as he waved him off. "I know something you don't know."
"What the fu-."
His name, his real name that he hadn't heard in years from a voice that still remains in his mind echoed through out the bar. His eyes went wide taking in the appearance of the new inhabitant of the Hotel.
Expect she wasn't new, oh god she wasn't new. Taking a hesitant step forward, he never thought he would see you again. His wife, his lovely wife.
It did not take long for him to pull you in his arms, his chest heaving as he desperately clung to you. Even with your broken wings you were still beautiful.
Pulling back slightly, Husk's ears flattened on his head. A deep purr leaving his chest as he looked into your eyes. "I know I ain't much to look at."
Shaking your head, you didn't care. After living in Heaven for so long you finally found the love of your life. "Who are you kidding, you still handsome." Sighing you buried your face into his chest to listen to his heart beat. "Know matter what you are I will always love you."
"I never stopped loving you...my angel."
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Alastor:
He was trying to ignore what ever Charlie was blabbering about, something about a new inhabitant to the hotel....someone for him to exploit? Well lets just see how naive they really are.
Though the moment he spotted them, he felt his smile twitch. This had to be some cruel joke, a punishment. You did not belong here! you were to pure for hell, to kind!
It was a mistake, it had to be a mistake. "I don't know who you are but go back to where you came from! I should just rip you apart for taking the visage of my wife!"
You could feel the tears sliding down your cheeks as you took a step forward. But with every step you took forward he took on back and soon his back hit the wall. Ears twitching back and forth, you could see his hand gripping that cane tight in his grasp.
You had to make him see it was you, so you hummed, you hummed that song he sang to you on your wedding night, the song he would sing to to your anniversary, the one he sang the night you were killed.
You let your hand glide across his cheek, you could see the smile wavering as he finally took you into his arms.
"You came back to me." He whispered into your neck.
Nuzzling your face into his chest, you smiled as your eyes closed. "And I will never leave you again."
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blueywrites · 2 months
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I propose: the 141's favorite way to use their free-use medic.
(18+, fem!reader medic. The original free use!medic concept post is here, posted to my retired side blog; all content moving forward will be posted on main.)
Price likes to fuck you before missions, to empty his head and get himself sharp before going into the field. Theoretically, he could just jack off to achieve the same post-nut clarity, but why would he when he can rut into your pliant, willing cunt instead? He especially likes to do it when you're set to leave on mission first thing in the morning. He'll show up at your dorm at 3 or 4am, already ready to ship out while you're still in your sleep shirt and cotton bikini briefs. Not particularly sexy, but he's gonna strip them off you right quick anyway. You think maybe he gets off on the contrast-- him in full uniform minus his vest and weapons, you pinned beneath him all bare with your soft parts made vulnerable, pretty with your nipples perked up tight from rubbing on his fatigue shirt. He typically fucks you in a mating press, beating into you hard and fast with single-minded purpose. Your moans and squeals and thrashing, grasping arms clawing at his back are secondary; for Price, it's all about letting the muscle memory take over, his head a blank slate as he focuses on only the sensations in his body: the burn in his abs, the smack of his thighs against your ass, the steadily mounting pleasure that flares brighter when he hits you just right and your pussy squeezes him like a vice. He's not specifically trying to make you cum, but once he finds his release and pulls out, straightening his clothes and patting you on the bum like a silent 'atta-girl,' he's happy you did. He'll nod approvingly like he does when you do well in one of his maintenance drills. Briefly, he'll let his blue eyes crinkle, and then the captain's back-- reminding you it's still wheels up in an hour, no matter how fucked out you are :(
Soap likes to use you as a reward for a job well done when you all return to base. He burns off his residual adrenaline by fucking you with his tongue and his fingers and his cock until he's finally out of energy, which can take hours. In the field, he motivates himself by imagining what he's gonna do to you once he gets back, working himself up until, by the time you reach exfil, he's practically chomping at the bit to get at you. On the chopper, the guys know to leave the seat beside you open for Soap cause otherwise he'll make a scene. And the whole flight, he's crowding you into the wall, plastered to you thigh to shoulder, searing you with body heat and smelling of foreign earth, gunpowder, sweat, and testosterone. Sometimes he doesn't talk, just sits there breathing hard through his nose until you hit the tarmac, at which point he springs up, curls an arm around your neck, and hauls you into the barracks, quick as your feet can carry you. And sometimes he sets little challenges for himself, such as trying to break his pr for shot accuracy. If he succeeds, he spends the flight with his head ducked close to your ear, murmuring in that rough brogue exactly what he'd been doing to you in his head as he cleared rooms and set charges. Those times, he places a heavy hand on your thigh, squeezing and kneading as he whispers to you. He'll wait a bit so that when he finally sneak his hand down between your legs, he'll find your fatigues a little damp, your pussy so drooly for him that she managed to soak through the protective fabric. It's a guarantee he'll later be gorging himself on your sweet wet cunt. He especially loves to pin you down with his thick, tanned arms, pressing hard into your pelvis to keep you from squirming away as he eats your pussy until you're crying from overstimulation :(
Gaz likes to fuck you in the downtime between missions, especially when you've been on base awhile awaiting your next assignment. There's only so many things he can do to occupy himself, after all. He always whizzes through the debrief paperwork; he runs through his new novels in a week or two max, and he refuses to read on his phone; and there's only so many times he can destroy Soap at gin rummy before it just gets old. So once he starts to feel that familiar boredom, Gaz will start his games with you. The type of attention he pays you will ripen, turning from warm to heated; he'll start shooting you those extra-sweet smiles you like extra-often, shifting his normal sarcastic humor into flirty teasing. With a word here and a subtle touch there, he'll rile you up til you're the one approaching him, asking him to please fuck you. 'Course, angel,' he'll coo. 'Other lads not treatin' you well enough, eh? Need me to give you a proper good fuck?' Early on, when you first joined the 141, he'd befriended you right away, not just because you were a pretty thing who endeared herself to everyone so quickly, but because he saw potential in the way you stared at them when you thought no one was looking. He folded you into the group, then plied you with stiff drink and those soft, soulful eyes til you eventually turned over your secret fantasies to him. Now he'll have you ride him, gasping out thank yous as he pinches your clit 'til you cum-- the first of many. And if you really let yourself go, let him see how desperate and needy and pathetic you really are for him, Gaz will reward you by finally switching on the vibration for the plug he stuck up your ass, fucking you through the new intensity til your eyes roll back :(
Ghost doesn't have specific way he likes to fuck you; rather, he'll have you anytime he needs you. Before, after, or during a mission, he'll take you whenever he starts feeling too pent up inside, pressurized like a can about to burst. He's the most abrupt of all of them; when the urge comes on, it comes on quick, and you've found yourself suddenly bent over a table with your pants pulled down more than once. Brutish as he is, Ghost isn't cruel to you. He'll at least take a moment to shove his big paw between your legs, parting your folds with a thick finger and finding your button, then petting it with brusque efficiency until you're wet enough to shove two in and stretch you so you won't break. And he always does this thing-- cause he always hits it from the back-- where he'll grab the front of your throat and pull you into a deep bend, tilting your head up until you're staring at the ceiling. But instead of the ceiling, you see Ghost, looming over you all black and bone-white except for his flat brown eyes. Those hold yours as he notches his head all blunt and fat at your rim. Intent, unrelenting, he watches you as he pushes in, wanting to see your expression the moment your pussy yields for him, the stretch burning so good it leaves you breathless. And yes, as far as Ghost is concerned, the medic is always on call. He even sought you out on leave once, crowding you into your apartment when you greeted him slack-jawed and dumbstruck at your front door. You're lucky you were home, too. Had you been out, you'd've found yourself plucked up, tossed over his shoulder, and hauled into the nearest bathroom. You vowed to take care of your boys, after all, even if that means your friends end up hearing you through the wall, screaming for Ghost like a proper slag :(
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skz-bee123 · 2 months
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You fall asleep on them
Stray Kids reaction
Word Count: 6.9K
This has not been edited so if there is any mistakes I'm sorryyy. Anyway I hope you enjoy reading this!
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Bang Chan
Chan knew that no matter what you did you would always put 100 percent into it. You would always go above and beyond to prove to only to others but to yourself that you could, and would do it. You never gave up and always gave things a shot. Sure, sometimes things did throw you on the ground but you always, always got back up.
And that was a trait of you that Chan greatly admired.
Normally.
But there were those times that you pushed yourself beyond your limits. Running on only little to no sleep. If you consumed food at all, it was take out and even then most of it would be life to go cold, forgotten as you were too busy doing something.
You were always doing something.
Now don't get him wrong, Chan knew that he could be just as bad at taking care of himself but he knew that despite how hard you were working yourself, you always had time for Chan. To remind him that he needed to take a break, take some time for himself, to clear his mind out.
Yet, Chan never seemed to be able to do the same for you. You kept things to yourself, insisting that you didn't need someone watching over you.
Chan did not want to push you, the last thing he would ever want to do is make you upset but it was the boys saying something to him that he realised that maybe he did need to step in.
"Hyung?"
Chan looks up from where he's sitting on the couch, taking his headphones off with his laptop on his lap. "Yeah?"
The other members of Stray Kids had come over to yours and Chan's place. The plan was to have a movie night and the kids would stay over. The thing was, you still weren't home. And the boys insisted that no movie would be played until you got home.
"Do you know when noona will be back?" Felix asks.
Chan's eyebrows furrow, "what's the time?"
"It's 9:32." Minho holds up his phone with the time for everyone to see.
"I-I'm not sure, she should've already been home by now." Chan says. "I'll try calling her."
Your phone goes straight to voicemail and Chan sighs before shooting you a quick message.
Channie
Hey love, the boys are here waiting for you. It's movie night, remember? Just checking to see when you'll be home.
Love you and be safe.
"She didn't answer but I texted her, she should be here soon though." Chan says as he looks at his members. "Alright what is it?"
"Noona always takes care of us right?" Hyunjin says. "I mean, she always makes sure we're taking a break, that we're eating, and sleeping well."
Chan smiles at that, "yeah she does. She talks about the whole lot of you all the time. She really loves you all."
"We get that and we love her too. I mean don't even get me started on how many times we've all called her eomma, heck, even Minho's done it once." Jisung says which gets a laugh out of everyone and a glare from Minho. "But..."
Jisung didn't need to carry on for Chan to know what he's saying.
"I know, I worry too."
Before anyone can say anything else, the sound of the front door opening catches all of their attention. They hear you sigh before the sound of your dropping your shoes on the ground before they see you walk into the dining room when you put your bag on the table, grabbing the edge of a chair.
You're completely drenched.
You still don't seem to notice that they are all watching you and Chan goes to say something before a choked sound escapes you making him freeze, it makes them all freeze.
They all watch as you start to sob, falling to the ground holding yourself.
"Noona..." Jisung's voice rings out.
The sound makes you whip your head up and you freeze before frantically wiping the tears off your face.
"Oh my gosh, I completely forgot that it was movie night tonight. I'm so sorry, I'll go get changed then we can watch the movie." You say, trying to stand up but end up tripping over yourself. But before you could even hit the ground again, Chan was there, pulling you into his chest.
You try your best but you just end up breaking down. No longer able to hold it together anymore. Chan, holding you tightly, speaks to you quietly enough that the boys can't make out what he says before he lifts you to your feet where he leads you to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you both.
The boys don't speak as they wait and it isn't long until Chan comes back out.
"She's alright, just had a very bad day, it was just too much for her." Chan says.
"Do you, or well, does noona need us to leave? We can do movie night another night." Jeongin asks.
"No, no. She doesn't want you all to leave. I think she'd be more upset if you did." Chan answers.
"Has she eaten?" Minho speaks.
Chan shakes his head, "no, I'll go make her some food now."
Minho stands up, "it's alright hyung, I'll sort out some food. Just go be with her."
Chan hesitates, "are you sure?"
"Yeah." Minho nods, "besides, I'm sure this lot is also hungry again."
"I mean, I could eat again." Changbin raises his hand.
"Of course you can," Minho rolls his eyes, a smile on his face before turning back to Chan. "Go."
It's 30 minutes later that you finally emerge with Chan from your bedroom. You're wrapped up in some sweats and a hoodie that it way too big for you, obviously being Chan's. You look much calmer now, but your eyes show just how tired you really were.
"Noona! Come sit with us?" Felix asks as he points to the spot between him and Jisung. The boys seem to have placed a bunch of blankets around the place and have your favourite movies set up.
You look towards Chan who only gives you a smile and small nod. You walk towards the boys and sit down between them. Felix and Jisung wrapping their arms around you instantly.
You watch as Chan walks into the kitchen, soon coming out with food, followed by Minho who was carrying more food. They lay the food on the table, dishing it out for everyone. Chan hands a bowl of food to Jisung and Felix before grabbing one for you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he sits down on a different couch with Minho.
Everyone starts digging in and you catch Minho watching you out of the corner of your eyes. He doesn't touch his food until you've eaten a couple mouthfuls before digging into his own. It bring a small smile to your face.
After the food is done and bowls have been put away the first movie is put on. You lay your head on Jisung's shoulder as Felix snuggles into your side. You get comfortable then make eye contact with Chan who was looking at you with a smile on his face.
'I love you', you mouth towards him.
'I love you more.'
The next time Chan looks over at you, you're sound asleep, Jisung and Felix too. Chan look s around the room and sees Changbin and Jeongin snuggled together sound asleep, seungmin and Hyunjin still invested in the movie.
"She's gonna be alright." Minho's words catch Chan's attention and he looks at him with a confused gaze.
"With us, I mean. We'll look after her. She's family too." Minho gesture towards you.
"I know." Chan reaches over and pulls Minho into his side, squeezing him tight. Despite the complaints coming from his mouth, Minho doesn't pull away.
Chan smiles to himself as he looks at his family around the room before his gaze rests on you.
Yeah, he thinks to himself.
Everything will be alright.
Lee Minho
It had been a couple days since you had last seen Minho, he had been busy in the studio. Learning new choreography and all that comes with being an idol, left him with little to no time to see you.
Minho had texted you a few hours before, he was supposed to come over to yours but was stuck at the studio, saying that since it'll be late once he's finished he'll just head back to the dorms.
It left you a bit worried and you decided to go over to the studio. Picking up some food along the way.
You quietly open the door, just in case Minho was practising, you didn't want to disturb him. But to your surprise, he was sitting against the wall with a towel over his face, breathing heavily.
You shut the door which catches Minho's attention but he doesn't take the towel off his face.
"Go away." Minho says.
You raise your eyebrows in amusement, obviously the boys have been in, annoying Minho and he thought you were one of the boys.
"Rude, I was bringing you some food too." You say, a smile on your face.
Minho takes the towel off his face and looks at you with surprise.
"Y/n?" Minho says.
You nod your head, "mhm, it's me and I've brought you some food. You sure you want me to go away?"
Minho just rolls his eyes at you before he stands up walking over to you where he gently grabs your waist and places a kiss on your forehead.
Minho, with his hands still on your waist, leads you over to where his stuff is and you both sit down.
You take out the food you brought and dish some out for both you and Minho.
"What are you doing here though? You should be at home." Minho asks after you've both started eating.
"Yeah, but you texted me saying you were gonna be here for the night, so I thought I'd just come and bring you some food. Possibly stay for a bit is that's okay with you?"
Minho smiles and nods his head before picking up his chopsticks and holding them out to you, "eat, you're still in your work clothes, it's obvious you came straight here from work. I'm sure you're hungry and tired as well."
Seeing you not moving, Minho nudges you. "Eat." He says, still holding the chopsticks up to you where you finally open your mouth and let him feed you.
"How was your day?" You ask sometime later after you've both finished eating and you're putting away the rubbish.
Minho just shrugs his shoulders as he watches you walk over to the bin where you chuck away the rubbish. "You?"
"It was tiring but I got quite a lot of things done that I wanted to, so I'm happy with how today went." You reply as you walk back over to Minho where you sit down next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.
"That's good," Minho grabs your hand, playing with your fingers as he speaks. "I'm happy that you're happy with how today went."
"Do you wanna talk to me about what you're working on at the moment?"
Minho starts to tell you about the new dances he was preparing for, not only for the comeback with the boys but also a personal dance too.
You try your hardest to listen to him, you really do. Everything Minho does, especially when it comes to dance, always captivates you entirely. He puts his heart and soul into what he does, it's one of the reasons you fell more and more in love with everyday that passed.
But try as you may, the comfort of your boyfriend's shoulder, the comfort of his hands playing with your fingers, the comfort of Minho's voice as he told you about all the things he was working on was just so warm and made you feel so cosy, so soft, so tired.
It isn't until Minho feels dead weight on his shoulder that he stops talking and looks down at you. You were fast asleep, a little smile on your face.
Minho reaches over to grab his hoodie that was laying on the ground and drags it over you as a makeshift blanket. He notices a bit of your hair has fallen onto your face and softly pushes it behind your ear, trying his best not to wake you.
He knows he needs to get back to practising but at this very moment, your rest, your happiness was much more important to him than dance. Because yeah, Minho loved dance, he wouldn't be who he was right now if it wasn't for dance. But Minho had been slowly coming to the realisation that perhaps he loved you even more. And as scary as that was, maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.
You snuggle in closer to Minho in your sleep and it brings a smile out on Minho's face.
Yeah, that wasn't a bad thing at all.
Seo Changbin
You and 3RACHA had been in the studio for the past couple of hours. It had started off with only you and Changbin, with Changbin working on music and you working on stuff of your own.
It was silent between the two of you but that silence was welcomed. It didn't matter that there was no conversation happening between the two of you because you were together, you were in the comfort of each other's presence.
"Hey babe?"
You look up from your work as Changbin calls for you, "yeah?"
"You mind if Chan hyung and Jisung stop by for a bit? I got a few things I wanna rub through with them."
A smile forms on your face, "of course I don't mind."
Changbin wheels his chair over to you, giving you a kiss before wheeling back and picking up his phone.
You carry on doing your work, getting so focused that you don't hear the door opening, nor do you head Chan and Jisung come into the room.
But hands grabbing your shoulders and someone whispering 'boo', into your ear makes your jump and scream slightly.
You see Jisung back away slowly with his hands up, all three boys chuckling at you. Turning towards Changbin you whack him softly.
"What? Why'd you hit me? Jisung scared you, not me." Changbin whines.
"Yeah but I bet it was your idea and besides, you know I can't stay mad at Jisung."
Changbin catches a proud grin of Jisung's face before turning back towards you with a pout. "But baby."
"Nah ah, you're getting no sympathy from me."
Changbin huffs and you giggle, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.
You exchange greetings with the boys before moving to the couch to give them more room to work. The chatter of the boys as they worked was a comforting background noise for you and it didn't take you love before you were finished with your work and just sat there and watched them as they did their thing.
Their way of working was harmonious. They just worked so well together and it was something that you greatly admired about 3RACHA.
Changbin eventually turns around in his seat and notices you watching them, he smiles at you before standing up and making his way over.
"You alright baby? Get your work done?" Changbin says as he sits down next to you, after which you place your head on his shoulder.
"Yeah, once I got into it I flew through it pretty quickly."
"Of course you did."
"What about you? How are things going?"
Grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together, Changbin answers, "pretty good actually, the track is coming along just how we want it to."
"That's not surprising though."
"No?"
"No, it's not, come on, you guys always come up with the most out of world music like it's nothing."
"We are pretty good." Changbin says, looking smug.
You just shake your head at him with a smile on your face. "Well, I was thinking..." you say turning your body so that your back is against Changbin's chest as he pulls you in tighter against him.
"Yeah?" Changbin hums.
"You have a day off this weekend right? Saturday?"
"I do."
"We should have a movie day, or like a self care day? I can order some food and we can just, I don't know, relax together?" You ask, playing with Changbin's fingers.
You feel a kiss being placed on your forehead before Changbin answers, "sounds absolutely amazing babe."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm, I honestly think that it's something that both of us deserve."
"That's true, we have been working pretty hard lately, we deserve a break."
"That we do my love." Changbin agrees with you.
The two of you converse quietly for a little while longer until your words become nonexistent. Jisung turns around in his seat after hearing your talking grow silent. it was weird, but having the two of you softly talking in the background while he worked was oddly comforting. So, not hearing your voices, he turns around to see what was up, smiling when he notices why.
"Oi, hyung." Jisung nudges Chan who takes off his headphone and turns to Jisung.
"Yeah?"
"Look." Jisung points.
Chan follows where Jisung is pointing and sees you and Changbin sound asleep on the couch, cuddled up together.
"Ahh, so that's why they stopped talking." Chan says, voicing Jisung's exact thoughts.
Jisung stands up and grabs the blanket on the side of the couch, the ones that's always kept there for the late nights the boys pull, the ones for when they inevitably fall asleep in the studio.
"Cute, aren't they?" Jisung says as he tucks the blanket over the two of you, turning around to see Chan smiling at them.
"They are, well I guess we should let them rest, we'll wake them up when we're done."
"Sounds good to me."
Hwang Hyunjin
The kids had been looking for the both of you for a little over 10 minutes now. Neither of you were answering your phones and they were starting to panic. The boys had all been sitting in the room together, you had gone off to find a bathroom but did not return back, Hyunjin went off to find you. But after 10 minutes neither of you had come back and they were panicking. 
“Maybe they just got lost?” Jisung questions. 
“Maybe, but then why aren’t they answering their phones?” Chan panics. 
“We’ll wait here for another 10 minutes, if they still don’t return we’ll go look for them okay?” One of the Skz staff members reassures the boys. 
They all nod their head as they wait, watching the clock for those 10 minutes to pass. And when those 10 minutes pass and there is no sign of either of you, they really start to freak. 
“Something could have happened, we should've gone looking for them as soon as they didn't come back.” Chan paces back and forth. 
“Hyung sit down,” Changbin grabs Chan, “there’s no point stressing out, the staff will find them okay?” 
It’s not even 5 minutes later when a staff member walks back into the room and the boys jump to their feet. 
“What happened? Did you find them? Are they okay? Where are they?” The boys ask question after question. 
“We did find them and they are all right.” A fond smile makes its way to the staff’s face and he gestures for the boys to follow him. 
They all follow him until the staff member stops in front of a door. “We passed by a few stylists who had asked Y/n to grab something for them in the door that was by the bathrooms.” He gestures to the bathroom which was right next door. “The only thing is, the door locks from the outside, so when she went in, she got stuck.” 
“And Hyunjin?” Seungmin asks. 
“Well we’re assuming that when Y/n didn’t return, when Hyunjin went to look for her he must've heard her, went inside the room the door shut behind them and they both were stuck.” 
Chan shakes his head as he reaches over to grab the door and pushes it open. The door opened to reveal you and Hyunjin snuggled up on the floor, both sound asleep. 
“So that’s why they weren’t answering our calls.” Minho says. 
“Scared the absolute daylights out of me and this is why.” Chan smiles fondly as he looks down at the two of you before he walks into the room to wake you both up. 
“Hyung? You found us?” Hyunjin wipes his eyes sleepily. 
“After you both send us on a wild goose chase, yes, yes we did.” Chan says. 
“We?” 
You and Hyunjin look to see the rest of Stray Kids as well as a few staff members standing there and you both blush. 
“Sorry, this was all my fault.” You say. 
“No, it’s alright,” Chan says, holding a hand out for you to grab as he helps you stand back up on your feet. “It will be a pretty funny story to tell so we’ll forgive you, besides we didn’t freak out THAT much.” 
“That isn’t true, you were the one who was freaking out the most.” Seungmin says. 
“No I wasn’t.” Chan defends himself. 
The rest of Stray Kids all start to argue and you and Hyunjin look at each other before bursting out with laughter.
Han Jisung
It was well past 2am and you both were still awake. Maybe it was the cold, or perhaps something else that was keeping you awake. But there was something different about being with someone, with existing with them, breathing with them, at 2 in the morning.
It was these moments that Jisung appreciated the most. Sure, it's always absolutely amazing going out and doing things with you but he loved these quiet moments when you both just had each other.
There's no one bothering him about things he needed to get finished, no dance practice, no music, no thinking.
Jisung loves what he does but sometimes he likes to switch off too and he can't argue that his members are a huge help, they've been with him through his hardest times but it was different with you.
He hadn't realised how much he craved it, how much he would miss it, until he met you.
You just came into his life in full force. If left him confused, scared, but in the end you completed him. You completed him in ways no one else could.
After a long day, it was late at night when Jisung really got to enjoy you all to himself, no distractions, just the two of you. And yes, he did have an early start tomorrow, would spend the day running on 3 hours of sleep but god were you worth it.
"Ji?"
Jisung hums softly, letting you know that he could hear you and was listening.
"How was your day?"
"My day? It was fine, I was in the studio with Channie hyung and Changbin hyung for most of it. But how was yours? Tell me all about it, yeah?"
You go into detail about your day, knowing Jisung wanted to hear every little bit that happened.
Jisung listens to every word you speak because to him, they were all important. Your entire being was so important and Jisung sometimes feels bad that he can't be there for you as much as he'd like.
So he uses these moments, he stores them away. Every little detail has a little pocket inside his brain that he stores away for when the time comes to use them again. A new restaurant here you mentioned once, or a co-worker you mentioned you didn't like. Every word you say means something to him.
"And what else baby?" Jisung pulls you in closer, gently guiding your head to his chest.
His undivided attention is always on you. Every time you open your mouth, Jisung is there to listen. He wants you to know that he cares, he cares so much for you that sometimes it seems untrue.
But his feelings for you could never be more genuine.
"Baby?" You snuggle in closer to him.
You're his person.
You will forever be his person if you'd let him.
The one he turns to when he's getting overwhelmed with life.
The one who knows what he's feeling without him ever needing to say a word.
You get him.
"Sleepy?" Jisung whispers. He feels you nod your hear against his chest. You were still telling him about your day but your words were starting to slur and it was honestly the most adorable thing Jisung had ever seen.
To be fair, everything you do Jisung thinks is cute.
Jisung can no longer hear you voice, instead all he hears is your breathing. Placing a kiss on your forehead, Jisung wraps the blankets around the two of you tighter, before closing his own eyes.
He loved you so much more than he's ever loved anything else. And Jisung hopes that you will never forget that.
Lee Felix
“Movie night!” You say as you jump onto the couch next to Felix. 
Felix laughs as he wraps his arm around your waist. 
“I’ve been looking forward to this since we started to plan it.” You say as you lay your head on his shoulder. 
“Me too love, I’ve very much been waiting for this day.” Felix replies back. 
You and Felix had both been very busy that past few weeks so one night while you both were laying in bed you discussed spending some time together. 
You both made sure that you would have tonight to just spend with each other, no distractions, no work, no nothing, just the two of you. 
You had decided on doing a movie night, earlier on today you had gone out to get some snacks for the two of you to eat and had everything set up so that when Felix returned home, all he had to do was shower and get changed into some comfortable clothing. 
Which is exactly where the both of you were right now. 
“So, should I start the first movie?” You reach forward as Felix nods his head to start the first movie. You both had previously picked out some movies you wanted to watch so that it would make things easier for you now. You had the movies lined up that you wanted to watch and all you had to do was play them. 
After the first movie is finished you both decide to get some food, deciding on ordering some takeout. You start the second movie as you wait for the food to arrive and when it does Felix hops up as you pause the movie. 
“I’ll grab it love.”
You smile at Felix and nod your head, waiting for him to return with the food and when he does you wiggle slightly in your seat with excitement causing Felix to laugh. 
“You’re so cute, baby.” Felix says as he dumps the food on the table in front of you both. 
“Says you, the cutest thing to ever exist.” 
“Thing? So I’m a ‘thing’ now?” 
You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, “oh you know what I mean.” 
“No, I don’t think I do.” 
You look over at him with a raised brow before turning towards the food. But before you could grab anything, Felix grabs your wrist. 
“Ignoring me now huh?” 
You still don’t look towards him, biting down on your lip to stop from smiling. You feel Felix’s fingers wander down to your waist and your head snaps towards him. 
“Don’t you dare-” your words are cut off by Felix tickling you, knocking you on your back as he hovers over you. 
You’re overcome with giggles as you try to fight Felix off you. 
“Lixie!” You plead. 
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” Felix says with a smirk on his face. 
“Stop! Please!” You say between giggles. 
“Hmm, I guess I’ve punished you enough.” Felix says as he stops what he’s doing before leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and once you’ve broken free from your kiss, he pulls you back up so that you’re sitting. 
“Let me get you your food.” Felix breaks away from you as he reaches into the bags of food in front of you both. “I’m sure you’re hungry.” 
“I am very hungry.” 
“I know, I can hear your stomach.” Felik pokes at your stomach causing you to squeal before handing you your food. 
“Thanks Lixie.” 
“No worries at all babe. Now let's eat and watch our movie.” 
About 2 movies later, Felix looks over to find you asleep on his shoulder. You’ve got a bowl of popcorn on your lap and some hanging in your hair. 
A fond smile makes its way to his face as he looks down at you, picking the popcorn out of your hair and grabbing the bowl off your lap, placing it on the table. 
God he was so in love with you that it hurt sometimes, but he wouldn’t ever replace this feeling with anything in this entire world. 
Kim Seungmin
Seungmin had said he would be home at about 8, you told him that you would wait up for him.
It's now just before 10 and he's still not home. You had texted him and was slightly worried. The logical part of you just assumed that practice went later than expected and he was held back, not able to go on his phone. The other part of you worried that something had happened to him.
It was not long after 10 that you received a call, expecting it to be Seungmin you rushed to your phone, only to see that it wasn't Seungmin calling you but Jeongin
"Jeongin? What's up?" You ask as you answer the phone.
"Y/n, I um...I'm sorry if I woke you."
"No, you're fine. I was up waiting for Seungmin. He said he would be home around 8 and it's 10 so I'm assuming that practice went late?"
"I..I don't. Seungmin he.."
"Jeongin? What happened? Are you alright?"
"Yeah, no yeah I'm alright, it's just that..."
You could hear Jeongin's voice start to break and you can tell that he's on the verge of tears.
"Hey, why don't you give the phone to one of your hyungs, yeah? Are they there with you?"
"Yeah."
"Alright let me speak with one of them okay?"
The line goes quiet before a new voice speaks.
"Y/n..."
"Jisung? What happened?"
"It's Seungmin."
You feel your heart drop into your stomach. "What happened Ji?"
"He..I don't know what happened, it all happened so fast. But he just, I don't know, he just collapsed at practice. He had such a high fever so we just rushed him into the hospital. We haven't heard much, but we know he's still not awake."
"Where are you?"
Jisung tells you the hospital they were at and you quickly say goodbye before hanging up. You don't even throw on a jacket, just grab your shoes, your wallet and keys then leave the house.
Following behind a manager who had come to collect you, you walked down a corridor were you spotted the rest of Stray Kids and ran over to them.
"What happened?" You ask panicking as you look around at the members.
“We were practising and Seugmin just collapsed, so we rushed him straight to the hospital. All we’ve heard so far was that he was severely dehydrated.” Chan explains. 
You bring a hand up to your face as you feel tears well in your eyes, you feel a hand on your shoulder before you’re pulled into someone's arms. You look up to see Jeongin and notice that he’s also got tears in his eyes. 
“It’s okay,” you whisper to him as you wipe his tears away. “He’ll be alright.” 
“I don’t know, I just-I feel like I should have noticed it you know?” Jeongin squeezes his eyes shut. 
“No, we are not doing this.” 
“Doing what?” 
“The blame game, none of this is anyone's fault you hear me? Seungmin would hate to hear you blame yourself like this, okay?” 
Jeongin nods his head and tries to smile, giving up half way when he realises it was too difficult. 
“Has anyone eaten?” You look around at the boys and watch as they all shake their heads. 
“Okay, I’m gonna…I’ll go and get you all some food alright?” You say. 
“No, it’s okay Y/n, you don’t have to.” Chan shakes his head. 
“Really it’s fine, you all need to eat.” 
“But-” 
“Please Chan,” you close your eyes and take a shaky breath before continuing, “let me do this okay?” 
Chan grasps your hand and softly nods his head, “okay.” 
While you’re out getting food for the boys you receive a text message from Chan who explained that he doctor had been there to see them and gave you a bit of an update on Seungmin. Basically he had been neglecting his own needs and overworked himself, explaining why he had fainted. The doctors wished to keep Seungmin overnight but said that it was nothing serious, he just needed some fluids and a good rest. 
“Okay, so I got a bunch of things, I probably went a bit overboard but I’m sure you all will eat it anyway.” You say as you walk into the room the boys were in with Seungmin, holding bags of food. 
Minho and Changbin rush over to you and take the bags from you, you smile at them before your eyes catch Seungmin’s. 
You watch as the boys all dig into their food before walking over to Seungmin’s bedside. 
“Before you say anything,” Seungmin says, grabbing your hand, “I’m alright.” 
You bite your lip as you stare down at him, Seungmin reaches up and with his finger pulls your lip out from your teeth. “Y/n?” 
“Yeah?” You grasp his hand tighter. 
“Lay with me?” 
You don’t say anything but instead lay with Seungmin on his hospital bed, sure it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world but it was what you both needed at that very moment so neither of you really cared. 
You feel Seungmin’s hands playing with your hair and you grip onto him tighter with your hands, it felt as if you let go, Seungmin would disappear from you and you weren’t going to let that happen, not yet. 
It isn’t until Seungmin feels your grip go lack that he looks down at you and sees you sound asleep on his chest. Seungmin places a kiss on your forehead before leaning his head on yours. 
“Hyung?” Seungmin calls out, getting the attention of everyone in the room, even Jeongin who wasn’t Seungmin’s hyung. 
“Yeah?” Chan is the one to speak. 
“I know you all have to leave soon.” Seungmin says. 
“Yeah we do,” Chan nods his head. 
“But we’ll be back first thing tomorrow.” Jeongin exclaims. 
“Yeah I’m sure you will be, but I just want you all to do something for me yeah?” Seungmin asks. 
“Of course Seung, anything.” Chan leans forward in his seat, encouraging Seungmin to speak. 
“Her,” Seungmin gestures down to you with his head. “Take her home with you please, don’t let her go back to her place. She can stay in my room but I don’t want her to be alone for the night. I can’t imagine receiving that call when I was in the hospital. It must not have been easy for her.” 
“Of course Seung, we’ll take care of her, but you should worry more about yourself at this moment, okay? Getting better yourself.” Chan says. 
Seungmin shakes his head, looks down at you. “I could tell you that I would but that would be a lie. My priority will always be her. She does so much for me and it always feels like I never have any time for her and I hate it. Don’t get me wrong I love being an idol, I love you all and I love Stay but sometimes I think about the days when we’re older and it’s just the two of us that’s left, no more work, no more anything, just us.” 
“I’m going to marry her.” Seungmin looks up at the rest, “this is just the beginning for the both of us.” 
“I don’t think any of us has ever doubted that.” Jeongin gently nudges Seungmin from where he was sitting beside him. 
Chan stands up and gestures to the mess from the dinner, “well we should clean this up and head on home to get some rest, I have a feeling we’ll be back bright and early so some rest for all of us will do some good.” 
The kids all start to pack up as Seungmin gets to waking you up and enough everyone has left the room and you’re standing by the door. 
“I love you.” You say. 
“I love you too.” 
You blow a kiss to Seungmin who reaches out to grab it, pulling it towards his heart where he lays his hand. 
“We’ll be back before you know it, as soon as we’re allowed back in, I’m going to be waiting right outside this door.” You say, a determined look on your face. 
Seungmin smiles at you as you blow him one more kiss before disappearing behind the door, “I know you will.” 
Yang Jeongin
Jeongin tried to be as quiet as possible, shutting the door behind him with care and slipping his shoes off silently. Tiptoeing into the hall, he frowns when he hears the tv playing, he’d hoped you would be asleep by now, not waiting up for him. 
Dumping his stuff on the kitchen table, Jeongin walks into the lounge. Jeongin pauses in his steps when he sees you, a sleepy smile makes its way onto his face as he rounds the couch. Sitting on the ground by the couch, Jeongin reaches forward and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. 
You’d obviously fallen asleep with the tv on, a blanket wrapped tight around you and there were snacks on the table in front of the couch. He could tell, from the look of things, that you had not meant to fall asleep and that makes Jeongin smile even more. God were you adorable. 
Standing up, Jeongin turns around and turns the tv off, looking back at you once again before picking up the leftover snacks and taking them into the kitchen. Once he’s disposed of the snacks, Jeongin heads into the bathroom where he gets himself ready for bed. Showering off the day's work away, doing his skincare before getting changed into some sweats and an old tshirt. 
Jeongin walks back out into the kitchen where he opens up the fridge, food from the dinner you had cooked in there and he takes them out, heating them up. He tries to be as quiet as possible as he sits down at the table to eat, not wanting to wake you up just yet. 
As he scrolls through his phone, Jeongin eats the food you made and it isn’t long until he’s eaten it all and he’s washing away his dirty dishes. 
Once he’s finished there, Jeongin then walks back into the lounge and over to you, who still sleeping. Bending down so that he’s level with you, Jeongin very gently rubs his hand along your cheek. 
“Baby,” he whispers a few times, watching as your eyes slowly flutter open. 
“Jeongin?” You sleepily ask while rubbing your eyes. 
“Yeah babe, it’s me,” Jeongin smiles as he helps you sit up. 
“What time is it?” 
“A little after 11.”
“Oh, I was watching a movie, didn’t realise I would fall asleep.” 
“It’s alright babe, let’s head to bed now yeah?” Jeongin holds his hand out. 
“Wait, have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah, I ate and showered, let you sleep so that when I woke you up we could go to bed together.” 
You smile up at him as you grab his hand and he pulls you up. Following behind Jeongin as he leads you into your bedroom, you flop onto your bed under the covers as soon as you reach the room. 
“Sleepy baby?” Jeongin laughs quietly as he watches you snuggle under the covers, only your head peeking out. 
“Mhm, ‘m sleepy.” You mumble out, your eyes falling shut. 
Jeongin climbs on to the other side of the bed and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest as your legs tangled together under the sheets. 
“Did you have a good day?” Your voice is muffled but he understands what you’re trying to say. 
“Yeah baby, I did, did you?” Jeongin traces invisible lines on your back and he feels you nod your head against his chest. “That’s good.” 
It’s not too long after that Jeongin feels you relax completely against him, no longer conscious of the world around you and it makes him pull you in tighter as he plants a kiss on your head. “I love you.” He whispers before closing his eyes himself, letting sleep overtake him. 
323 notes · View notes
cher-rei · 6 months
Note
prompt 9 or 10 w pedri 🙏🏼
pack it up- pedri gonzalez [ P.G ]
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you and me, always forever [always forever- cults]
pairing: pedri gonzalez x fem!reader
summary: watching the football match with pedri starts off cute, but you've said felix's name one too many times.
genre(s): flufffffff
[wc: 2.5k] masterlist
notes: I changed the plot of this a bunch of times for no reason I swearrr
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"amor the match is starting!"
your call had pedri rushing from the kitchen with his hands occupied by the assorted candies that you asked for. he set it down on the coffee table just in time and settled down next to you on the couch, pulling you closer to his side underneath the blanket.
"I can't believe you're making your injured boyfriend run around for some sweets," he said in disbelief and looked down at you, but yours eyes were glued to the tv screen.
this was a match that you couldn't afford to miss, athlético vs barça was not something that anyone took lightly. that's why you prepped a little more for this match than usual and your boyfriend decided to join you at home instead of going to the stadium with the excuse that it was too cold outside.
you didn't complain though, having pedri at home was a gift from heaven but of course you still wished for a speedy recovery and all that... but he was home and got to spend time with you, so it was okay right?
your lack of response had him dumbfounded, he stayed at home for this? he clicked his tongue and faced forward, mumbling about something under his breath but you were quick to shush him.
"shush babe." you softly hit his arm. "you can complain later."
this wasn't the first shocking thing that has happened today at all. just before kick off, you told him that you forgot to put your barca jersey on and rushed to your room which had pedri smiling from ear to ear, thinking that you would be coming out in one of his jerseys.
and oh how wrong he was.
his smile immediately dropped at the sight, not just because it wasn't one of the jerseys he gave you but rather your own, but also because of whose name and number were flaunted at the back.
your boyfriend blinked up at you, and you asked him what was wrong, clearly not seeing an issue. "is there something wrong with my face?" you put your hand to your face, walking over to the mirror hanging on the wall to check but nothing was there.
"uh no," he said through a forced smile. "but there's something wrong with what you're wearing right now."
your head tilted in confusion and you looked down at your outfit, not seeing an issue with it all. your shoulders slumped and you looked at him in confusion. "there's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing."
"last time i checked, felix isn't your boyfriend, i am." he pointed to himself for emphasis but you only rolled your eyes at his childishness.
"are you serious right now?" you sat down beside him and he shot you a look of judgment buy your were adamant on not changing.
"last time I checked you're not on the pitch right now, felix is." you gestured to the tv yet pedri remained stubborn, saying that it didn't matter whether or not he was playing or not.
where did you even buy that jersey?? he needed to burn it asap.
he was upset but all it took was a quick peck on the lips to ease his mind, reassuring him that you wanted to give felix some extra support because he was playing against his own club. and that made sense to pedri, the support was needed and it was appreciated.
so for the first 20 minutes of the game, your yelling was held at a minimum but the closer you got to halftime time the more restless you and pedri got. the team's play was just too messy, there was no communication or stability.
the ball was lost every other touch, barca could barely make it past the halfway line and they kept on passing the ball back instead of taking their chances. it was frustrating, to say the least, especially for pedri because he was supposed to be there.
he was supposed to be running on the pitch, ensuring that the midfield wasn't a total wreck but he wasn't. he just had to get injured again. you felt his body tense up beside you and immediately knew what he was thinking.
"hey," you called softly and flashed him a small smile. "are you okay?"
when he looked at you his mind immediately eased— one look and a smile from you and he felt so much better. sure he was bugged about the whole jersey thing but you still looked so adorable cuddled up to him that he forgot about everything.
he gave you a reassuring hum and a kiss on the forehead before turning back to the match. his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, your eyes daring to close but you wouldn't dare tell him to stop.
it was now 35 minutes into game time and nothing had happened which had pedri scoffing. "I think you're jinxing us."
"as if, just you wait," you countered but he wasn't too sure about your answer. it wasn't playing in your favour by the looks of it and he swore that it was your jersey, it had to be and when he told you that it was you shook your head, swearing that felix was going to score.
pedri was still I'm disbelief, shaking his head until you shot up when gundogan got the ball, choosing to pass it to lewandoski who was already in the box. it all happened to fast that you barely saw it, both you and pedri holding on to each other until the ball went into the net, by none other than felix himself.
"let's go felix my boy!!" you leapt from the couch and stood in front of your boyfriend who sat silently in disbelief until it sank in.
he looked up at your smiling face with his eyebrows raised. "your boy?"
you chose to ignore him and pat the barcelona crest on your jersey. "pack it up, lover boy. I called it."
the commentators were going crazy, everything happening so fast but you were still standing in front of the tv with your phone in your hand, happily adding the moment to your instagram story and replying to gavi's message about the goal.
"xavi got a red card," pedri said in hopes of redirecting your attention away from felix and his goal. he was happy for his teammate obviously— he was ecstatic, but not about the part where his girlfriend was celebrating as if he was her boyfriend.
he didn't know why, but he was in a rather jealous mood today. he wasn't the jealous type, and you knew that which was why you couldn't help but tease him with the opportunity given.
you put your phone back down on the coffee table. "I don't care about xavi right now. this is about felix and his redemption. the clubs redemption too-- but mostly felix's."
something about the way you said felix's name made pedri's jaw tick. it was like a broken record sounding from your lips, over and over again until he finally let up and pulled you onto his lap which had you all too amused.
"do you know how many times you've said his name tonight?" he asked with a quirked brow.
you tried to ignore the feeling of his hands trailing up your shirt onto your bare skin. it was so rare to see him this riled up, this adamant because pedri was a baby. your baby, who preferred to be the little spoon and smothered in kisses.
so you couldn't falter. not now.
your shoulders shrugged innocently. "the normal amount."
the normal amount? as if.
that wasn't even remotely close to what he wanted to hear and you felt it in the way he looked at you. the living room was dark— the only source of light being from the tv that you'd lost all interest in because your boyfriend was staring you down.
his eyes dropped from your eyes to your lips and you felt your face heat up in anticipation.
"6 times," he muttered just above a whisper and inches towards you achingly slow, only to pull away at the last second because second half had starterted by the sound of it.
he pat your thigh lightly and set you back down beside him, your body still in shock at the fact that he pulled away before kissing you. you looked up at pedri with your lips slightly parted, not sure of what to say.
"what?" he asked with a chuckle and gestured to the tv. "felix is there not here. you're supposed to be supporting him."
oh so he was playing like that tonight? your boyfriend loved to tease you whenever he got the chance. he was playful sure but this was a tad bit too far for your liking. anyway, you brushed it off and continued to enjoy the game, but with less talking.
not too long after second half started lewandoski was able to make the score 2-0 , and this time pedri was the one to jump up in victory whereas you just watched him. you weren't upset, not by a long shot. if he wanted to play, then you'd join in.
your boyfriend spared you a few glances every so often and noticed the bit of space that was left between you two. he watched you silently and began to wonder what the issue was and when he asked if you were okay, a nod was sent his way.
ten more minutes had passed with little to no words exchanged and he was starting to grow restless, whereas you continued to watch the match unbothered. if there truly was an issue then there was only way to make sure of it.
your hand was free, resting on your thigh so naturally his hand slipped into it but you were quick to pull away and instead bent over to reach for your phone on the coffee table.
it was his turn to be shocked— his lips parting and a scoff of disbelief exiting but you paid no mind and continued to go through your phone, only looking up at the tv when you heard that fermin scored.
"how long are you going to keep this up for?" pedri suddenly asked out of the blue and your best act of nonchalantly confusion and asked him what he meant.
his eyebrows quirked up. "you're not talking at all and when I tried to hold your hand you pulled it away."
you raised your phone into the air, "because I wanted to get my phone--"
"oh so you can hold my hand now then?" there was a twinge of anger in his tone, it was almost unnoticeable but you caught it and carried on with the act and shook your head to the side.
"I'm still using my phone pedro--"
pedri's body tensed up at the name that fell from your lips as if this night couldn't have gotten any more confusing. he turned to face you fully. "what did you just call me?"
you squinted, trying your best to suppress your smile because you knew that he hated it when you said his name. it meant that he was in trouble which was rare so for you to say to so casually had him panicking.
"your name?"
"did I do something wrong? are you going to tell me that you want to sleep in the guest room tonight too?"
he began to get riled up and it was seen in the way that his eyes began to wander and never met yours. he had officially gone into full panic mode which you hadn't expected at all, so now it was your turn to let up the act to try and calm him down.
your hand immediately found his and you urged him to calm down, saying that you were just teasing him. you went on like this for however long, spewing apologies and reassurance because having him upset was the last thing anyone wanted.
that was until you saw his lips curve up ever so slowly. your blood began to boil in the realisation that he wasn't being serious at all and had you feeling as guilty as ever for absolutely no reason. without a second thought, you let go of his hand and hot up from the couch.
pedri couldn't stop smiling, a soft chuckle leaving his lips while he tried to pull you back down but you already had your phone and started walking away. "baby wait," he called out after you but no second glance was spared from your side.
"where are you going?" he watched as the figure began walking up the stairs, each step filled with more irritation than the last but he couldn't push aside how adorable you looked.
you scoffed. "the guest bedroom."
your answer had him running after you in a matter of seconds, his laughter echoing through the house as he called out your name and luckily he caught you at the top of the staircase. pedri's arms wrapped around you but you fought it and tried your best to escape his embrace.
"amor I was only teasing you," he said in between his laughter and spun you around to look at him. the pout on your face had his heartstrings tugging but you only rolled your eyes.
"is it because I didn't kiss you hm?" he asked playfully and leant down to kiss you but you turned your head away from him stubbornly. did that stop him? not in the slightest, because he opted for the next open space— your neck which had you in a fit of giggles.
featherlight kisses trailed from your collarbone to your neck— each kiss more delicate than the last and placed so carefully to the point where you couldn't fight it any longer and admitted defeat.
"okay I said you won," you repeated but he didn't stop, a low hum sounding against your skin instead.
"I haven't won until this," he tugged on the hem of the jersey you were still wearing, felix's name at the back. "is on the floor."
418 notes · View notes
star-suh · 7 months
Text
One Fleshlight and Two Boys
Seok Matthew x Male Reader
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cw: sex toys, masturbation, nipple play, some bicep worshiping, fingering, cum swallowing.
an: this is nasty.
matthew organized a movie night with his friends but only yn showed up, the rest cancelled at the last moment ‘damn bastards’ he thought.
“so what are we watching tonight” yn asked while grabbing the food and the drinks. “what about a horror movie?” matthew showed the other some of the top movies of that genre. “choose the vest one" answered the guest.
two movies and a lot of empty beer cans later the two guys were tipsy and being so touchy with each other. “your biceps are so big matt” yn slurred touching the other's arm, “yeah? you like them?” he flexed his arm leaving yn amazed with the sight. “hell yeah…” yn left some little kisses on it, kisses that burn matthew's warm skin “hey!” he yelled “my mouth's here” he says pouting, something that made yn smile, “silly” he murmured.
both share a kiss, but it was a desperate one as if they were waiting for that moment forever, sometimes matthew would open his mouth wide so that yn could suck his tongue. saliva being smeared all over their faces. “hold on” matthew broke the kiss, “wait here i have something you might like”.
the two were naked now, stroking their cocks while matthew was preparing a fleshlight. he slowly introduced his cock on it, moaning so loud, “shit… this is so good” he laughs.
yn grabs the fleshlight and starts moving it up and down matthew's cock while the latter strokes yn's cock with his hand. “how does it feel matt? is it good?” yn eagerly asks, licking his lips. “wanna try it?” matthew take out his cock and push the toy down yn's, “you tell me.. how does it feel”.
minutes passed and the pair keep sharing the toy, yn uses it for 10 minutes and then matthew use it for another 10 minutes. suddenly an idea pops up in matthew's mind, “what if we do a competition?”, yn looks at him, curiosity plastered all over his face, “let's see with how many loads can we fill this toy, but the first one to run out of cum loses and will have to drink all the content”.
“your nasty matthew” yn comments, “come on it's not like you haven't swallowed my cum before” he grabs yn's chin “and i know you like it” he whispers and then kissed him. yn reluctantly agrees and begins to masturbate matthew with the toy as fast as he could. “you can do more than that” a cocky matthew said mocking yn's jerking ability, “shut your mouth” he said and starts sucking the other's chest, sucking and biting at his nipples until they're red and sensitive “why the fuck haven't you cum yet?” he was about to give up but finally the other came with a loud growl and some whimpers later. yn was amazed for the amount of cum that matthew had ejaculated, "shit, do you have a factory down there or what?, milkman”. matthew just laughs and adds “yes, a whole factory and it can be just for you”.
matthew slides the toy down yn's cock and he immediately starts to whimper, the toy hugs his cock so well but the sensation of matthew's warm cum acting as lube was heavenly, “shit” he murmurs, a wave of pleasure going through his body everytime matthew moves the toy. his hand starts exploring yn's body until it finally reaches his hole, yn didn't realized what was happening until he feels one finger inside of him, “hey! what do yo think you're do–” matthew didn't let him finish speaking when he accelerated the pace of both his hands. with stimulation on both sides it was a matter of seconds for yn to cum.
jets of white sticky cum being shot inside the plastic toy filling it up and mixing it with matthew's seed.
hours passed and the pair was still going at it, while yn was already feeling tired and empty, matthew was like he just poured his first load inside the toy.
“i can't anymore” yn sighs pulling out his flaccid dick out of the toy, “then i guess i won” matthew says still stroking his rock hard cock. “what's with the cocky smirk?”; “you have to drink all of this, remember?” matthew shakes the object “open up for me please” he removes the lid of the toy and spills all the liquid into the other's mouth, with some of it falling out of it and sliding down his neck, “you look so sexy right now” matthew throws the object and start kissing the other, playing with the remaining cum with their tongues “what .. if we play.. something else” he says between pants “ let's see how many loads can i put inside you this time”, the tip of his cock already sliding on yn's hole. “i'm gonna drain your balls matt” yn replies guiding the cock towards his hole, putting it all inside.
641 notes · View notes
Text
Reborn!Wukong: Jealous (Pt 2?).
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Pairing: x fem!reader.
Word count: 1440.
Warning: nothing but Wukong being a grumpy pants. No Pigsys were harmed in the making of this one shot. Not really proofread.
A/N: This demon would get jealous so many fucking times, he's too adorable. I love him sm. Hope you enjoy!
<---Previous | Start | Next--->
THIS IS BULLSHIT!!!
“Really? You have to tell me more!” you beamed. 
Wukong watched the scene with a scowl. Since you met the vital spirit, you hadn't stopped talking to him, and it was getting on Wukong’s nerves! … some might even say that he was jealous… but that was ridiculous. The Great Sage doesn't get jealous! Well… ignoring that one time that he did… and a bunch of other times-
“Ugh, so annoying,” he grumbled as he folded his arms and glared at you. 
Ever since the group continued on with your journey to collect the scriptures, you two just won't.stop.talking. Don't get him wrong, he was glad that you made a new friend and that you were a lot more vocal than you were prior to the whole Yuandi event. It’s just that… as your time with your new friend increased… the attention you showed him rapidly decreased, in his mind, at least. 
You still cuddled with him to sleep, heaven forbid you ever not sleep in each other’s arms, then neither of you would ever get any sleep at all. Going back to the topic of Wukong’s jealousy…
“Not jealous,” he growled. 
Back onto the topic of your neglectful behaviour. Fruitie may be cute and whatever, but he was a life force that was little over 10,000 years old! You were probably the first and only woman he’d met in that length of time and however irrational it may sound… he was still a man. Monk or no, a man was still a man, no matter the species or whatever, males- 
“Ridiculous,” Wukong shook his head and stood up. You looked at him in question.
“Something wrong, Wukong?” you mused as you looked him over, trying to read him, and it didn't take long for you to realize what was going on with him.
“No, it's nothing,” the stubborn monkey simply huffed and looked away from you… but it was too late.
“Wow,” you snorted a bit. “I should start keeping track of how often events like this occur.”
“What are you talking about?” he looked at you with narrowed eyes, getting suspicious with a smile on your face.
“C'mere, you silly monkey,” you opened your arms for him. 
He continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes, but who was he kidding? He shot himself into your arms and held you so tight that the only thing you could process was him being in your personal, squeezing the life out of you. You took a few seconds before you smiled and hugged him loosely, your arms under his as you rubbed his back.
“I don't care if you can't breathe,” he spoke, as if reading your thoughts, which meant he knew he was squeezing your soul out of your body.
“No breath, no girlfriend,” you spoke, only after a few more seconds did he loosen his grip but not let you go. “You gonna tell me what's wrong?”  
“Stop talking,”
“You're adorable, my love,” despite you snuggling into his chest, Wukong was still a pouty baby who kept nuzzling his face into your neck. “Wukong.” 
“Stop talking,” he growled into your neck and held you a bit tighter. 
“Silly monkey,” you pulled his tail, which stunned him and the brief moment that he let go of you, you pulled away enough to see his face. “Awe, look at my pouty baby,” you baby-talked him, which made him glare at you.
He turned away from you with a ‘tch’ and glared in that direction as he folded his arms. You couldn't help but smile, watching as his tail twitched in annoyance and his pout seemed to deepen. You took out a flower that Fruitie put in your hair and reached up to tuck it behind Wukong’s left ear. His eyes widened briefly, and he looked at you from the corner of his eye, expression indifferent.   
“How many times must I explain to you that you're my one and only, you silly monkey,” you took his left hand in yours and pulled it to your lips, which he let you do. “Being jealous of a Vital Spirit is kinda funny,” you mused. He growled and snatched his hand back and turned his back to you.
“Awe, c'mon, baby, don't be like that!” without another word, he crouched then jumped onto his cloud and flew off. “Wukong!” you watched as he left you there alone, yet you couldn't help but smile.
Such a cute Monkey King, my precious thing. You mused to yourself with a smile as you turned on your heel to return to the others, giving your lover time to himself.
____________________________
When Wukong returned to your group, everyone was having dinner. He seemed defeated with his shoulders slouched. He walked over to where you were sitting against a tree eating fish. He took your food and put it beside you before he plopped down in front of you. You looked at him with a raised brow but shook your head. 
“Hm,” was all you said.
He removed his upper layers and just sat there. You watched him with folded arms, you knew very well what he wanted, but you weren't gonna cooperate so soon. You watched as he folded his arms, his head held high, and you didn't have to see to know his eyes were probably closed. His tail wrapped around your right leg and his ear twitched impatiently.
How can someone so short-tempered be so cute? You mused to yourself.
“What are you waiting for?” his gruff voice broke you from your thoughts.
“I'm eating,”
“You can eat later,”
“It'll get cold,”
“I'll heat it up on the fire,” he glanced at you over his shoulder.
“But I'm hungry,” you stated in a matter of fact tone.
“You'll eat later,”
“I'm hungry now,”
“(Y/n),”
“Wukong,” you tried to hide the smile. “Okay, fine, you win.”
With a triumphant smirk, he turned back around and you started to stroke his back.  combing your fingers through his fur to untangle any knots and smoothen his fur.
“(Y/n)?” Fruitie’s voice got your attention, but you didn't look at him and continued to work. 
“Yes?” you answered, not seeing Wukong's frown, but you did notice him tense.
“What are you doing?” he asked in that adorable baby voice that a 10000-year-old being shouldn't have.
“Grooming him,” you answered simply.
“Why?” he tilted his head as he watched you do your thing to ease your Monkey King’s wrath.
“Because it would help keep him from looking unkempt,” You smiled and touched his back and arms to make him feel relaxed.  
It also repairs his fragile ego… She wanted to add, but kept to herself. 
“Go to sleep, leave (Y/n) alone,” Wukong glanced at Fruitie over his shoulder.
“No,” the vital spirit pouted stubbornly, you got the sense of déjà vu. “I wanna stay up with (Y/n).”
“No, go to sleep,” he ordered, wanting some one-on-one time with you in peace. 
“But (Y/n) said that I can stay up with her,” he said as he plopped down on your head.
“Wukong’s right, Fruitie, we have a long day ahead, you should sleep,” you tried to reason as you combed your fingers down Wukong’s back to the base of his tail which made him shiver slightly.
“Are you going to sleep too?” he looked at her, holding her forehead to keep himself from falling. 
“Soon,” you nodded and caressed your lover’s shoulders and biceps, unable to pick out any split ends since it was too dark to see them. “Now go to sleep.”
“Fine,”
“Baby…” Wukong mumbled and glanced at you. 
“Hm?” you smiled up at him. You watched as he lowered himself to lay his head on your chest. 
“Thank you,” he grumbled as you wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek on his head. 
“I love you, you silly monkey. You don't have to be jealous of anyone,” you kissed his head softly. “You're always my number one priority.”
“Okay,” he mumbled as he watched the group as they slept. 
Pigsy snoring as Fruitie was laid next to Wujing, who was curled up, and his master was asleep on a blanket. They were all peacefully resting. Wukong looked at you and looked at your lips. 
“I love you too,” he turned and sat up before he pulled you onto his lap and hugged you close to his chest. 
“Hmmm,” you smiled and hugged his torso before looking up at him. 
He leaned down and kissed you softly. You cupped his face and kissed him back as he deepened the kiss. 
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blackdollette · 3 months
Note
hi hi :3 can i request something with spencer after a particularly agonizing case and he’s just being stand offish and a little rude with just a smidge of fluff at the end bc they talk it out or something ^.^
this request is longggg overdue :((
"if i had my way, you would always stay." | s. reid
tomorrow never came. - lana del rey
fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords
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⊹₊⋆ pairing:bau!female!reader x spencer
⊹₊⋆ word count: 960
⊹₊⋆ contents: dismissive spencer, slight tension, a little fluff
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“am i seeing you tonight?”
you sat at spencer's desk, fiddling around with his large assortment of pens arranged in rainbow order, watching as he scattered through mounds of files.
he glanced back at you through his peripheral vision.
“you're seeing me right now, aren't you?”
you snorted out a little laugh, your spinning chair groaning lowly as you stood up and approached him. you stood right behind him, slowly trailing your hands up his clothed arms and back down again.
“not like that, genius. we made plans last week, remember? i've been looking forward to them all day.”
spencer swallowed hard as he flipped through a particularly gorey photo of the current victim. a honey-crusted wound infested with an assortment of bugs and rodents feasting on the rotting flesh. what a wonderful way to get him in the mood.
your eyes shot away from the image faster than they landed on it. you removed your hands from him, now awkwardly tapping at your sides.
“i'm not sure how you can talk about the plans we made 168 hours ago when we've got a case like this on our hands.” he murmured, not even bringing his gaze to yours for a second.
you froze up, not used to being shut down by him like this. you didn't want to admit it, but this case had been rubbing him the wrong way since the start. and it has definitely taken a toll on him.
you cleared your throat, the room suddenly seeming a little warm. “y-yeah, i know. but… taking a break might be good for you. for us.”
you smiled, hoping that he would return the warmth with that dorky grin of his. but he just looked straight at you with a blank stare.
“taking a break isn’t going to get us any closer to solving this. who knows how many people could be in danger right now…”
your body grew stiff, your palms becoming clammy as he shifted his attention away from you once again. over the past day, spencer had seemed to build a wall around himself, subconsciously pushing you away. but the last thing you could do was blame him for his change in demeanor. he was right, after all. who knew how many other lives were about to meet a gruesome end…
the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a heavy pit filling your stomach. the atmosphere in the room had become uninhabitable in just a matter of seconds.
you shuffled back to your desk, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, glancing at the analog clock that hung on the wall behind you. it was a couple minutes past midnight, the latest you had ever stayed at the office.
“i’m going to call it a night. see you tomorrow, spence…”
no response. you weren’t even sure that he heard you. with a deep sigh, you led yourself out. a cold shower of rain hit you as soon as you stepped outside. quickly walking to your car, your slumped into the seat, looking back at the building as you drove away.
~ ~ ~
after a much-needed shower, you sank down into your soft bed, feeling your tensed muscles relax. though your body was slowly succumbing to the exhaustion, your mind was still buzzing actively. with the current case, the heavy storm that was tearing through your neighbourhood, and most of all: spencer.
you knew it wasn’t his fault, but this stood as a reality check to you. in the grand scheme of things, you only stood as a temporary distraction from the things that really mattered to him. a deep, shaky breath escaped your parted lips. the best thing to do right then was to try and get some sleep.
as your eyes slowly drooped shut, the shrill scream of your doorbell rang through the room. your body jolted from the startle. it was an hour past midnight. what sane person would be up and ringing doorbells at this hour?
you groaned, standing up from your bed and slipping on a pair of socks, making your way to answer the door. you looked through the peephole, but the blackness of the night consumed your vision. 
you slowly turned the door handle, poking your head out just enough to see who was there. with his sodden hair plastered across his face, the umbrella over his head practically useless, spencer met your curious gaze with a shy little smile.
“h-hey…” a loud sneeze over took his body. “i-it’s really cold out here…”
you felt a twinge of pity for him. his nose and cheeks were stained with splotches of pink and the bags under his eyes were telltales of how big a toll the case was having on him.
“spencer… what’s going on..?”
he couldn’t bring his eyes to you, but you could sense that he was tensed.
“the team thought i’d be a good idea to call it a night…” he began to fiddle with his thumbs. “...you’re not mad at me, right..?”
he met your gaze, his eyes pleading. you sighed deeply.
“no, i’m not mad. but what are you doing here? you should be heading home.”
he sniffled, wiping his nose with his dampened sleeve.
“o-oh. well… i was hoping that we could watch a movie or something. i-i can cook you dinner and we can have a good time. just like we planned…”
you rubbed your eyes, trying to fight the smile that tugged at your lips. spencer finally looked at your attire, taking in the sight of you in your pajamas.
“oh, were you in bed? did i wake you up?”
you laughed, putting a hand on his arm and stroking it gently.
“don’t worry about it, spence. come on in.”
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author's note: i wanna get another spencer fic out today.
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mytheoristavenue · 3 months
Text
Mean!Tokoyami x Sweet!Reader where he knows you like him and just does not care. You go out of his way to pack him lunch, take notes for him when he misses class for his work study, ask him how his day is and he goes out if his way to tell you he's not your friend and to stop.
"I'm not your little boyfriend," he scolds, neck hot from having to look into your sparkly doe eyes. "I don't need you fawning over me, got it?"
Finally, after being shot down so many times, you decide to let sleeping dogs lie and he notices immediately. Since your first day at UA, you've followed him around like a lovesick puppy and now? You just walk right past him. You don't even ask him how his morning was, how he slept, if he at breakfast.
"What gives?" He grumbles coming to walk beside you.
"What do you mean, Tokoyami?" You tilt your head to him, totally neutral to his presence.
He stops in his tracks before shaking is head and catching back up. You've never called him by his last name. It's always been something irritatingly friendly like 'Fumi', 'Toko', or 'Yami'. "Since when do you call me that?"
"Call you what? Tokoyami?" You blink, clueless.
"Don't play dumb," he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. "You always call me by a nickname."
"Why would I do that?" You continue, aloof. "It's like you said, we aren't dating. We aren't even friends, it's not appropriate for me to be giving you nicknames like we are."
"We're friends..." he mutters, stare fixed to the floor. "Nevermind that, what's been up with you lately?"
"I don't see what you mean." You continue, hardly paying him mind at this point.
"Oh stop," he huffs, exhausted with your charade. "You used to fawn all over me, now it's like you don't even see me."
"You told me to stop and I did." You answer matter of factly, stepping into the elevator.
"Yeah, I've told you that like everyday for the better part of three years, why is it just now sticking?" He rolls his eyes, holding the doors open before stepping in.
"Why are you upset?" You respond with a question, adjusting how your books sit in your arms.
"I'm not."
"Then why does it matter?" You ask, finally looking at him in earnest. "Tokoyami, I never had some silly infatuation with you, I had real feelings for you. I put so much effort into trying to prove that to you and you ever so much as tried to give me a chance. You didn't even let me down easy. Why shouldn't I move on with my life?"
Tokoyami had never considered how your back and forth affected you. He'd always assumed you'd be obsessed with him forever. "You don't like me anymore?"
"I didn't say that," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It'll take a while to get over it but-"
"D-Don't get over it." He interrupts, looking away bashfully and rubbing the back of his neck. "O-Over me, I mean..."
You narrow your eyes, fury bubbling in your stomach. "You've got some nerve-"
"I've always liked you." He finally confesses with a heavy sigh. "I-I've been offstandish because it was hard for me to accept that you had actual feelings for me..." To your dismay, all your anger suddenly melts away. You're heart just can't help but soar. "At first, it bugged me how you were always by my side, confessing and going out of your way for me at every turn but...somewhere along we way I grew to like the attention." He looked back up at you, offering a hand. "And...it really bothered me when you suddenly stopped."
Hesitantly, you take his hand. "Don't think I'm not still frustrated with you," you warn with a glare.
"I know," he confirms with a sheepish nod, thumb brushing your knuckles gently. "But I wanna start making up for it," he flashes you a smile, vermillion eyes searching for validation. "Would you let me take you out this weekend?"
"Oh, Fumi..." you gasp, giggling with delight. His eyes widen with hope when you call him by a nickname. Suddenly you deadpan. "No."
Panic flashes across his face, only strengthened by your fit of laughter. "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't resist!" You snicker. "Of course I'll go out with you."
"Oh fuck off," he shakes his head, fed up with your antics as the elevator stops and he steps out. "Saturday, be ready by six or I'm going without you."
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mxtantrights · 7 months
Text
where you go, I go
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a/n: okay so while I'm writing this whole series for azriel just know that I had this other recurring dream about a plot like this. I couldn't really make it a fully fleshed out story with a happy ending so I decided to type it all out and make it a one-shot with angst and not a lot of comfort (this is your warning, this doesn't end happily) anyways with all of that said, if you decide to read this please enjoy and tell me what you think! <333 also happy valentines day <333
azriel x assassin!fem!reader
5.1k words
The day court was home to many things. Vibrant colors, warm waters, ancient books and of course the very ancient and magical day blade. It's your job to know where that this is at all times.
You can't possibly understand why the shadow singer would try to steal it. Try being the operative word here. While you did sense him enter your court and break into the room where the blade was, it wouldn't have mattered.
Seeing as it is your job to protect the blade at all costs, it never leaves your sight. But that didn't mean you couldn't have fun with those who wanted so badly to get it.
In your pocket you feel a piece of paper appearing suddenly. You reach inside and unfold it. It's Helion. He's requesting your presence. You smile to yourself, this would be fun.
You leave your hiding place, the palace had many hidden rooms and hallways, and walk over to Helion's day room. As you approach from the hallway you can hear multiple conversations being had.
The door is closed so you open it slightly.
"There she is! Come in and greet my guests!" he says happily.
You make sure you face is kept neutral. You had an image to upkeep in this court.
The people respect you and fear you in the same breath. You don't go around killing people but you do often get justice in ways that aren't in the parameters of the law. Whether that be stringing up robbers and looters from their pants, or burning down the houses of dirty criminals.
You keep your eyes straight, not looking any of his guests in the eye. You walk until you are standing behind Helion who sits in his usual seat.
"I was just telling Feyre that I enjoy the new company. This is the inner circle." he says to you.
You nod once.
"She doesn't talk?" Nesta asks.
You know all of them. It's your duty to know The Who's who of the courts. The inner circle of the night court. High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre-Curse breaker. Her sisters Elaine and Nesta. Rhysand's brothers Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan, past fiancee of Eris Vanserra. Amren, a mythical creature of serious power.
Helion laughs at Nesta's question. He knows you talk. He knows you very well, seeing as he practically raised you. But that information isn't public knowledge.
"She does, but not when theres something wrong." Helion answers.
You look at all of them now. How the girl closest to the shadow singer, Elaine, looks worried. And it's quick, you almost don't catch it, but you're so good at your job at this point.
"Trouble in the day court?" Rhysand says.
You lean over and whisper into Helion's ear about the blade. How the shadow singer came here to steal it, on a mission from his high lord. How he thinks he got away with it.
The room goes quiet as you pull back and Helion sits back in his chair. He loves the dramatics you pull off every single time someone tries to take the blade. The last person you caught was really delighted to be drowned in glitter, confetti and manure.
"Is there something you're forgetting?" Helion asks.
Rhysand looks at his inner circle with an incredulous smile. Then he looks to you, no doubt trying to read your mind. You can't imagine this will go over well either.
You can't feel it. The daemati powers that certain fae have don't work on you. You're not really sure why. Might have something to do with your unknown lineage. Or your overall hardheadedness-so Helion says.
Rhysand cocks his head to the side at your unmoving posture. He's still looking at you. You however are taking in the shadow singer. He's sitting there, not bothering to look at anyone. He must really think he got the blade.
"What would that be?" Feyre asks this time.
"Well, when you want something that another has you usually ask." Helion says.
At that everyone at the table grows grim. Caught red handed is what it seems like. You still manage to hide you smile though.
"Helion..." Rhysand starts.
"If you were anyone else I would have you locked up already. But lucky for me my security system is top notch." Helion smiles and grabs his glass for another sip of what could only be wine.
At his words the shadow singer now looks at the high lord. Your high lord. His face bares no emotion, like he can't afford to give a way a secret or smile.
You've heard about his reputation. But at this point that's all it is. He couldn't even steal from you correctly. This has to be the most interesting thing that's happened this year. You don't get around to much outsider business, you tend to stay out of it.
"I don't think it is." the shadow singer says.
Helion stifles a laugh. But you can hear it. And you know if you can hear it they all can. The room is big but not big enough that guests at a table can't hear things.
"Care to relieve them of their misery?" he looks up to you and asks.
You didn't really want to. But then again you'd have to play nice with them. Helion seems to like this group. Or most likely, his son is friends with this group and he wants to be friends with his son.
You sigh, "Take out the blade."
You watch in amusement as everyone at the table looks at each other. As if they all don't know what they really came here for. The shadow singer though, he's different. He's looking right at you.
His shadows materialize the blade right on the table for everyone to see. Cassian, gives him a look. But Azriel doesn't seem to see it or care.
"That's not the blade." Helion quips.
You call the blade to you with your powers. Being gifted with the ability to control sun made objects is fun most of the time. Most living things are sun made in a sense. So really you could control all things, to a certain extent.
The blade comes flying into your hand. As soon as it makes contact with your skin it transforms. The metal of the blade turns into a vibrant green stem. And the helm turns into the face of a sunflower.
Azriel seems to go through a range of emotions. First confusion. Then understanding. And then the last one, well you can't actually pin down the last one. You've gotten good at reading people but he's harder than others.
"The blade is safe in the day court, where it will remain until you ask for it." Helion says.
Rhysand lets of a breath, "I am sorry about lying, but we're short on time."
"And I thought our alliance was stronger than that. I am sorry too." Helion replies.
Helion stands from his seat, causing the others to match his actions. The sound of chairs on marble floors reaches your ears. You take a step back and cross your hands behind your back.
"We need the blade for a mission." Feyre speaks.
"It could be a simple mission or the end of the world. The fact that you have no respect to ask me tells me everything I need to know." Helion says casually.
You know that he is hurt by their lying. It's not deep, but it's there. He thought he could trust them. He thought because they had good relations with him before that they were better than the actions they are displaying right now.
Of course you know of the good bond between them. Which is why you don't understand why they didn't just ask. Unless there is a well justified reason. Why not ask the high lord for the blade unless he was implicated somehow.
How could Helion be implicated in a mission from the night court. He doesn't know anything, or he would have offered them the blade himself. No this is something he's not at the center of. But it still concerns him.
Lucien. You look at the guests around the room. He is no where to be found. True he's not part of the inner circle. He's an emissary. But if it was something the inner circle could simply ask Helion for, why not butter him up with his son?
Lucien may or may not know what going on.
"Where's Lucien?" you ask.
At you question all of the heads move to you. Right, you hadn't spoken to them this whole time. Well you weren't going to give them a smile and greet them kindly.
"What business do you have with him?" Nesta asks.
"He's in Spring. Managing relations." Rhysand answers.
You nod your head. Spring. If that answer can even be trusted. Let's say you do trust it for the moment.
The inner circle needs the day blade. They didn't want to ask for it. They didn't let Lucien come.
"Were you planning on returning it?" you ask again.
Nesta, rolls her eyes at your question. You can't help the giddiness you feel of getting under her skin. You hardly did anything to warrant it. But it felt kind of good.
"As soon as we were done." Azriel answers this time.
You don't ignore the stress he puts not he word soon. You also don't ignore the way his eyes seem to never leave yours.
"That blade is our most powerful weapon. We don't just give it out to anyone." Helion chimes in.
He maneuvers around his chair and stands behind you. When he grips both of your shoulders with his hands, you can tell he's smiling even if you can't see him.
"But I will let you use it," Helion continues, "on one condition."
"Go ahead." Rhysand says.
"Wherever the blade goes, she goes." Helion says.
"That won't be necessary." Nesta says.
At the same time Cassian says, "That's odd."
Helion shrugs his shoulders and lets go of you. He leans into your ear to whisper his next words very carefully. When you understand him and what he wants, you nod your head only once.
He grabs the sunflower from your hands as you uncross them from behind you. Helion stands next to you now. You watch as Helion brings the flower up to his nose and gives it a sniff.
"We agree to those terms." Azriel speaks up.
"Woah hold on-" Rhysand tries to cut in.
"Great. I think this will be beneficial to both courts." your high lord agrees.
You turn to face him now, your back towards the guests. Helion was looking at you with a very faint smile. You heard every word he whispered to you. And you understand the reason why: Family.
What you don't get it is why he won't just speak to Lucien himself. Why play nice with a high lord that knows his son when he can just reach out to him? Invite him to the day court or send him a letter.
Everyone in this room knows Lucien is Helion's son, except Lucien. And now your mission is to tell him so that he might finally have a true place to call home.
Helion wouldn't so easily agree to lending out the blade like this if it weren't for Lucien. And the night court wouldn't try to steal it if Lucien did know, because he could just ask on their behalf.
Your shoulders sag at the thought. You had no interactions with Lucien. You only ever heard of him from Helion and he only started referring to him as his son a couple of months ago.
It'll be you. You'll be the one to see him, come eye to eye to him, and tell him the truth.
You can see it in his eyes. The sadness. You'd do anything for him. He's a father figure to you. And you'll see this through, for his sake and Lucien's too.
"Promise me you'll smile a little bit during your trip." Helion says.
"The Sun Wraith doesn't smile." you answer.
"You're the Sun Wraith?" Cassian's voice asks.
You turn around and face the general. It's all over his face. The look of shock. It wasn't hard to become something of a legend in this court and the ones surrounding it.
"Even people in the night court are scared of you." Nesta says.
On her face seems to be another emotion. Not fear. Not shock. Something lighter amongst the surface. Admiration maybe? You aren't too sure.
"I'll grab my things." you say to no one in particular.
"And the blade." Azriel's voice sounds.
"I never go anywhere without it." you say, reaching behind you.
Grabbing the flaps of your yellow vest you flip it over and your hand wraps around the hilt of the blade. You pull it out for all of them to see.
"Best security in all of the courts." Helion jokes.
-
THREE WEEKS LATER
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The mission has barely begun and you hate it here. You hate it in the night court. The days are shorter and you feel pale without even looking into a mirror most days. Nothing beats the sun of the day court on your skin.
Amren had told you it would get better. After your first meeting she had taken a liking to you. You were told by several members in the inner court that it was no easy feat. She talked to you the most out of everyone.
Second to her, came Nesta who was just curious about the things you allegedly did or did not do. You held off on telling her anything too juicy. It was funny toying with her with the details. She also likes your fighting style. Morrigan too.
Azriel talks to you. Sometimes. He's friendly to a point. Cassian is more friendlier than him but you're starting to understand it's just in his nature. Feyre and Rhysand are cordial. Elaine is, well you've been told that she's nice but you haven't really seen it. She greets you but that's it.
The inner circle didn't get on your nerves. But you also had your own mission. Deliver the news to Lucien that Beron isn't his father, Helion is.
Which is why though this whirlwind of a mission you're laying down on path of grass outside of the House of Wind. Weird. What was even weirder was the fact that Velaris, a secret city inside of the night court, has existed for so long with no one none the wiser.
You squeeze your eyes shut. Trying to turn your brain off. It wasn't working. The sun wasn't the same, it does't feel the same. You can't call off this mission either.
"Is this what you do in the day court?"
You'd know that voice anywhere. Which is weird to say as you've known the male for a couple of weeks now. But it's true. Azriel's voice was distinguishable from others. A bit low, but still soft. Clear.
"Yes." you answer.
"Is that all the explanation you can give me?"
"Yes."
You think he'll go away. He plays nice because you have the blade. He needs the blade, which means he needs you. Once he no loner needs the blade he won't need you.
When you hear the sound of him getting closer you want so badly to open your eyes. But you don't. You keep them closed. As much as you want to open them and see what he's doing.
The sound of him laying down beside you on the grass is one you weren't expecting. Also the feeling of soft cold tendrils nipping at your arm.
"It feels...nice. A bit cold." he speaks.
Of course he'd complain about he cold. Nesta had told you that Illyrians were whiny babies. You'd seen it personally when Cassian couldn't get a certain dish because there were no more potatoes for the day.
And now here his brother is. Complaining.
You hold up your left hand, the one close to him.
"Give me your hand." you command.
You half expect him to decline. To maybe even get up and leave. Or maybe say that he doesn't mind the cold. The other half of you expects him to just listen you-to see where it goes.
He takes your hand. You focus on letting the additional warmth you normally feel from the sun flow from your hand and into his.
Out of all the things you half expect and do expect, his laugh is something you don't plan for. It's deep. It comes from his core. It's gentle too. Which you wouldn't get just from looking at him.
"It's warm." he says.
"That's how the sun feels in the day court." you answer.
"I think you just spoke more than three words to me."
You scoff, "Don't get used to it."
"That was four words."
"Shut up."
"Two. We're regressing."
"Azriel."
"I'll be quiet now."
This is how you spend your time. If you are not training with Morrigan, Amren and Nesta. Or not eating with Cassian in the kitchen. You are laying out on the grass with Azriel in the sun.
It happens more times than you care to admit as the mission goes on.
-
ONE MONTH LATER
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This place, Velaris, was starting to grow on you. You didn't want to admit that out loud, or in your letters to Helion. Or how well you were gettign on with Azriel. The trips into the city, the lingering glances and words with hidden layers.
You letters should only have on subject, Lucien.
He has been back from the spring court for two weeks now. You've taken that time to get to know him. You couldn't fathom unleashing the truth on him as a stranger. You don't need to be his friend. But he needs to at least trust the words coming out of your mouth when you say them.
Family dinner they called it. Even though only three of them were related to each other. But you guess that what makes their family unique. They choose each other, every day.
This meal was special. Seeing as you had finished the mission that Helion sent you on to protect the blade. There was a fae that needed to be tracked down and would only come out of hiding if he could see the sun blade.
Of course you didn't let him, but you did convince him that the fake blade you passed onto him was the real thing. When he found it wasn't after he revealed his intentions with it he got angry.
Angry enough to rain hellfire down on both you and Azriel. If it weren't for your fast thinking and powers you both wouldn't have made it out in one piece.
Now you're sat with the inner circle to celebrate your feat.
Someone clears their throat. This drags your gaze from the redheaded male to the dark haired one. The both of them were sitting in front of you.
How the mother is cruel and precious at the same time. One male is your mission which you planned for. The other male you didn't plan for, and yet...
"Az was asking if you miss home." Morrigan says from your side.
"Dearly. But its not bad here." You speak, not quite realizing what you just did.
You watch as Azriel's smile grows and grows on is lips. It hits you then.
"Wipe that smile off your face before I take it back." you say to him.
"No I don't think I will." he jokes.
You shake your head with a light laugh. You can pick up on his laugh too from across the table.
"Well if it means anything, you fit in well here." Amren speaks up.
Everyone at the table quiets down at that. You look over at her, peering around Morrigan. You nod once at the sentiment.
"You need to tell him." Elaine says suddenly.
You look to her sharply. She's gotten better about speaking to you. More than a greeting but still less than a conversation. It does weird you out some times but you let it go for the most part.
"Oh?" you ask rhetorically.
"Elaine I don't think we should discuss this here." Feyre starts.
"He needs to know." Elaine says again.
It upsets you. She is his mate. She is the one connected to him. She has known this secret longer than you. But you'll be the one to tell him? She doesn't want to get her hands dirty. None of them do.
"What do I need to know?" Lucien asks all of a sudden.
You look to him. Hoping nothin is being given away by your face. When no one answers him he scoffs lightly to himself and looks around at the table.
This is happening now.
"It's obviously about me, none of you can look me in the eye except for her." Lucien continues.
"I can tell you, in private." you offer.
He nods his head and gets up from his seat. You follow his lead and get up too. The two of you walk out of the dining room and onto the balcony. You pull the door close behind you.
"Before you say anything, do they all know about this?" he asks.
He can't be asking about Elaine. She's the whole reason you're having this conversation right now. No, he's talking about Feyre. His friend. Or who he thought was his friend.
What can be left of a friendship after a lie like this?
"Yes." you answer simply.
Lucien shakes his head, "Okay, you can tell me now."
You take him in. The tense shoulders. The bowed head. His hair is perfectly combed behind his back. In this light, he looks like Helion. Not too much, but just enough.
How do you up end someone's life?
"Lucien do you ever think about what it felt like growing up with Beron as your father?" you ask.
Lucien looks at you sharply, "It was unspeakable. I wouldn't wish that life on anyone."
"And it shouldn't have been yours either." you reply.
His brows furrow. Right in the middle like they want to meet so badly. You wonder if he's felt like an outsider before. If he's ever felt it amongst his brothers. The black sheep.
"When my mission is over here, do you think you could come back with me to the day court?" you ask softly.
His face goes from confusion to somewhat understanding. But you haven't told him enough for him to completely get what you're saying, what you're asking of him.
"A couple of times Eris tried to make me visit the day court." Lucien admits.
You nod your head at that. Of course. Ever the perfect actor. You knew him for a little slice of time in your life. A period in which you won't ever forget. He was your first kiss. You were young and kids, trying to figure out your own way in life.
Kissing Eris, the treacherous fox of the autumn court, was every bit exciting at your age. You gossiped, and word got around. But he didn't deny it. For all the lies and manipulation he pulled you thought he might say you were delusional, that you had made it all up. But he backed you claim.
Eris knew Lucien wasn't Beron's son. Eris probably protected him as best he could. In his own, Eris way. Whatever that means.
"You can invite him too." you say.
Lucien looks past you. No doubt at the inner circle lingering inside. If you were in his position you wouldn't even go back in there. You'd never talk to any of them again.
"I'll take my leave now, but thank you. For being honest." he says.
You give him a small smile, "To be clear I was to tell you the news in a gentle manner. What just happened was out of my hands."
"I get it. I'll see you around." he says.
You bid him goodbye. Then he's walking past you. You hear the door open and how voices inside seem to call his name. You don't hear him respond to any of them. You hear the front door slam.
With a breath you turn around and head back inside too. When you do everyone is looking right at you. It unnerves you. You hate it.
"I've done your dirty work now. I think I'll call it a night." you speak.
"He didn't deserve to find out like that." Feyre says.
"You're right, he deserved honesty from his friends." you retort.
"You were sent here to tell him the truth. Am I wrong?" Rhysand asks.
You turn to face him clearly. You can't believe he just said that. You cannot believe he formed the words with his mouth to say that to you.
Without saying another word you walk right out of the dinning room. You ignore Nesta and Amren calling out to you. And you ignore the shadow that walks with you right out of the room and into he hallway.
As soon as you get inside of your guest room the shadow disappears.
SUNRISE, THE NEXT DAY
You're skip training and packing for home instead. You wish you could pack faster but that isn’t possible. You don’t want to be here for another second. Not in this court, not among the inner circle.
When you throw in your last few shirts into the luggage a knock raps on the door. You don’t know who it is, but if it is Rhysand or Elaine you won’t open the door.
“Who is it?” You ask.
“It's me, can you open up?”
You go over to the door and open it. Standing there on the threshold is Azriel.
“I’ll be leaving soon.” You say.
His eyes seem to widen at that. You watch as he peers over you and takes in the bareness of the room, and the packed luggage. He straightens himself out.
“Why so soon? It feels like you just got here.” He replies. 
Based on his words alone he doesn’t want you to leave. You can feel it too. How it’s only been a month or so but the two of you are comfortable around each other. 
You sigh, “The mission is over.”
“And we’re back to this? Four word sentences?” He asks.
“Azriel.”
He looks down both sides of the hallway. His head turning left then right. Then he’s turning back to you. He looks nervous. Antsy. He doesn’t normally look that way. He’s usually so composed. 
He takes you by surprise. He side steps into the room and closes the door behind him. At that you know your eyes go wide. He holds up his hands in defense.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for that but I just—are you mad at me?” He asks.
You scoff, “Yes I am.”
“Okay I knew that, but I was also confused because on that mission you saved my life.”
“Hardly.” You answer simply.
He groans at your one word answer, “You made sure those arrows didn’t plant themselves in my wings. You made sure I was safe.”
“It was nothing.” 
“No it was something.” 
You’re catching on now to how tense he is. Tense or nervous you can’t tell. His eyes are frantic. His breathing is also uneven. And his shadows are fully out on display now.
You do the one thing you can think of. You reach out for his hand. He doesn’t even seem to notice it. When you make contact he looks you in the eye. “Please calm down.” You whisper.
He bows his head, his hair covering his face now. All of a sudden he sinks to his knees. The action catches you completely off guard. 
“I’m sorry.” He says again.
You focus on sending him warmth from your hand. In a second you can see his shoulders begin to shake. From this angle you can’t tell just yet if it’s what you think it is. 
So you bring your free hand to the side of his face. You feel it. In the palm of your hand you feel his wet cheek. He’s crying. Azriel the shadow singer is crying, on his knees in front of you.
“I could have died and for the first time in a very long time I felt this deep regret in the bottom of my belly.” He chokes out.
What would he have to regret? 
Slowly you drag you hand down his cheek. You place your pointer finger under his chin. Titling his head up, you meet his eyes. From this close you hadn’t realize how many shades of brown they hold.
“Azriel, you’re okay. I promise you you’re okay.” You whisper.
He shuts his eyes, more tears flowing down his face now. 
“I don’t think I will be.” He admits.
“Why?” You ask.
He opens his eyes again. 
“Because you hate us now, you’ll never come back here.” He answers.
In a sense he was right. Not totally. You didn’t hate the inner circle. You just couldn’t stand what they did last night. How they acted, how none of them would fess up. Even though some of them had known Lucien for a long time.
But you didn’t hate them. You didn’t hate him.
“I don’t hate you.” You reply.
“I could see it on your face last night. And now, you’re leaving so quickly. You want nothing to do with us.” He adds on.
There’s silence between the two of you. The emotions Azriel is feeling right now feel heavy. Way too heavy for someone he’s only spent about two months with. 
You had heard many rumors about him. But him being like this, wearing his heart on his sleeve like this? You don’t think you could have ever imagined it.
Remembering that he’s waiting for you to answer, you remember to speak.
“Yes I’m upset and I want to go home. But that doesn’t mean I never want to see you again. Azriel I really enjoyed my time with you.” You speak.
You don’t realize it but your hand is stroking his now. 
He gives you a look you can’t figure out, “Why does it feel like that time is over already? Like I’ll never see you again?” 
He reaches up and places your hand on his cheek again. You don’t emit the warmth from there but he nuzzles into your hand like you are. His thumb rubs back and forth on the back of your hand there.
“You talk like everything is set in stone. Like there is only one path.” You say.
“I can just, sense it.” He explains barely.
You shake you head, “Azriel I was always going to leave.”
“Not like this. Last night changed everything.” He says, but it comes out more like a whisper.
“Get up.” 
He looks at you, a bit of shock. You watch as he follows your command and gets back on his feet. He keeps your hand pressed to his face the whole time. Your other hand falls to your side.
“You can come visit me.” You say.
He’s silent. Silent but he nods his head at your words. You’re not sure if he believes you fully. But it’s enough. He wipes the tears from his face. His wings perk up, off the floor now.
You wrap your arms around his body before you can think against it. Instantly you feel his arms around you. Pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours. It feels right. It feels natural. No, it feels like something else too.
It feels the exact same way the sunlight in the day court feels on your skin. Like it is meant to be.
part two here!
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Text
Summer Sun, Something's Begun
Part of my Birthday Bash!
Request: "You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much." with Roy :)
I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You
Roy Kent x Reader
2.1k words
Warnings: Language, Chelsea!Roy, lots of fluff and flirting
Author's Note: This takes place during Roy's time in Chelsea, so he's in his mid-20s. The reader is his manger's very off-limits daughter, early 20s. I loved writing this so much, I'm going to add more to it later- so keep an eye out! 👀
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Summers were for Chelsea.
For as long as you could remember, as soon as the school year ended, your mind focused on nothing but football. Throughout your childhood, you’d join your father at the facilities, watching the team prepare for the new season. Everything about it felt magical: the green of the pitch, the bright blue skies above, the shouts and excitement from the team. You looked forward to the first day of term, when everyone spoke about their summer holidays, the places they’d visited and the friends they got together with, when you would gush about the players you watched train and the matches you attended.
Now, you packed your bags at the end of each term and came home from uni, still feeling that same flutter of joy as you thought about training. A young adult yourself now, your dad still let you loiter around the team. Pretty much since you were old enough to drive, he treated you more like an assistant, asking you to grab lunches or help answer emails. As far as summer jobs went, this one felt like a great deal to you; hang out with your dad and the squad all day and get paid in match tickets whenever you and your mates wanted.
Of course, your role at the club wasn’t the only thing that changed. As a child, the players doted on you, asking about your dog or kicking around the ball with you before hitting the showers. You were Chelsea’s little princess, running around in jean shorts and too-big t-shirts. But now? Now you were the same age as many of the players, a young woman. Sure, the older players who’d known you for years, the ones who had watched you grow up, still joked around with you and treated you like family. But the younger players, the ones who were closer to your age than your father’s, definitely saw you differently. You caught the lingering stares, the cocky grins shot in your direction when they did something impressive on the pitch, the nudges when you strolled by the weight room when you brought the coaches their lunches.
Not that a single one of them would ever do anything about it. They were young, but they weren’t stupid. You were the manager’s daughter; you were the very definition of off-limits.
Which was totally fine with you, by the way. You didn’t care much for the attention of the young footballers, no matter how fit or wealthy they were. Not when you only had eyes for one midfielder in particular.
Roy Kent. Roy freaking Kent. With those brown eyes and those little smirks and that growling voice, not to mention that gorgeous chest hair you thought about way to often to be healthy, you were positively, absolutely smitten. He was brilliant to watch on the pitch, and he was pretty clever and funny when he cared to be. While his reputation centered around his scowls and brooding air, you often found yourself falling into step with him in the halls, offering teasing remarks back and forth and eliciting light chuckles from the mouth you thought about all year long back at school.
Ever since you started university, your dad had joked about not dating footballers. And normally, you were a good kid and listened to your parents. But the sound of Roy Kent’s laughter and the sight of his bare chest in the changing room always had you wanting to ignore your dad’s advice.
Because ever since he arrived at Chelsea, summers were for Roy Kent.
This summer was no different.
After a full week of Roy catching you staring at him on the pitch and making jokes that you laughed a smidge too hard at, you discovered him on the pitch long after practice had ended for the day and most players had begun to go home. Well, maybe ‘discovered’ was the wrong word. That made it sound like a coincidence, like you hadn’t quietly slipped away from your father’s office and followed the midfielder out of the building. Like you hadn’t perched yourself in the stands, not in an obvious spot, but definitely not hiding either as you watched him absently dribble around the grass while the sun began to set. Like you hadn’t been doing this for three days in a row now.
After maybe five minutes of watching him, he finally turned his head in your direction. “Oi!” he called out. “You just going to sit there and watch?” Even from a distance you could see the smile on his face, the one he usually saved for you.
You shrugged and stood, smoothing down the dress you may or may not have chosen while thinking about what Roy would think of it. It took every ounce of self-control not to skip down the stands, across the grass, and fling yourself into his arms, the way you wished you could after Chelsea victories. Instead, you strolled casually towards him, hands innocently behind your back, until you were gazing up at those pretty brown eyes, the ones that always seemed to sparkle when he looked at you.
“Enjoy the show?” Roy razzed, quirking one of those thick eyebrows at you.
“I always enjoy watching football,” you countered. You bent down to pick up the ball and began rolling it between your hands. “Especially when I get to watch talented people play.”
Behind the teasing look on his face, you could see in his eyes that he was pleased by your indirect compliment. “You think I’m talented then?” he hummed, doing his best to maintain his indifferent manner.
You wrinkled your nose at him and tossed the ball at his chest, which he caught with a soft grunt. “Who said I was talking about you, Kent? I was just stating the fact that I like watching football.”
His face lit up at your banter, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. You never saw him make that face at work except when you joked around with each other; you wondered if he ever made that face away from the pitch, if he ever made that face at anyone else, at any other girls. “Fuck me then,” Roy laughed, holding the ball close to his chest. He dropped it to the ground with a thud and nudged it towards you with his foot. “Come on, then. Let me prove myself.”
“Me, who hasn’t played football since I was eight, versus you, a Premier League star.” You rolled your eyes and bumped the ball back to him. “Yeah, sounds real fair to me, Kent.”
This time, the surprise he wore was genuine. “You haven’t played since you were eight?” He shook his head at you. “Your dad coaches fucking Chelsea. How the fuck did you manage to not play?”
“I prefer spectating and being a fan,” you stated simply. You wrinkled your nose. “Plus, I wasn’t very good,” you admitted. “I think Dad found it all a little embarrassing. He didn’t make much of a fuss when I quit.”
Roy shook his head and took a step back, dragging the ball with him. “Well, your dad’s not here now,” he pointed out, something close to flirtation in his voice. “And I’ll try to go easy on you, princess.”
Your heart fluttered at the teasing nickname. A few of the players called you that, always playful and joking, but when Roy said it, it made you wonder how other pet names would sound coming out of that beautiful mouth of his. “Fine,” you conceded with a huff, as though you weren’t thrilled at the opportunity to be close to Roy. “But go easy on me.”
Playing football in flats and a dress was not the easiest thing in the world, you discovered. Especially not when your opponent was Chelsea’s skilled and beautiful superstar. Still, you had to admit to yourself that it was fun. It was obvious that Roy did his best to go easy on you, but it wasn’t natural for the midfielder to give anything less than one hundred percent, so even his “easy” was a challenge. But he chuckled as you ran around each other, and a couple times he even laid a hand on your waist; you wondered if he knew the effect it had on you because each time he did, you froze and he was able to steal the ball with ease.
Eventually, you managed to break away from him with the ball at your feet and happiness in your lungs. You really thought you had a chance at scoring a goal when that firm hand landed on your hips. As you tried to wriggle free, your feet tangled with his, and the two of you fell to the ground, a jumble of laughter and bodies and a football. You managed to roll onto your back, grinning at Roy as he sat up and gazed down at you.
“You do suck,” he announced with a smirk. “Better study hard at uni, princess, because even with your daddy in charge, you are never getting signed to Chelsea.”
“I think I’ll live,” you huffed back as he laid beside you. You felt keenly aware of his body next to yours, of his breathing, of how close his hand was to your own. You wondered if he could feel your heart pounding through the ground; part of you worried it would cause the earth to quake, it was beating so hard.
Roy’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Glad to be home for the summer?” he hummed, his casual tone a sharp contrast to your nerves.
You cleared your throat. “I am. It’s always nice to be back with my family. And not worry about schoolwork. Plus, I love being here.” You gestured broadly around the pitch.
“Hmm.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Roy squinting at the oranging sky. “Any big summer plans?” His voice was heavy with interest, something rare for Roy Kent. He always seemed so aloof.
“Working here,” you said with a huff. “Same as every summer.” After a moment, you realized he was waiting for you to continue talking. “What about you? Training, training, and more training?” you teased.
He sighed, a low growling sound that had the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. “’ve got a fucking photoshoot tomorrow,” he grumbled. “For fucking Nike. Some international ad campaign or some shit, I don’t fucking know.”
You were instantly reminded that Roy Kent was a professional footballer, a celebrity, a legend in the making, who already had a track record for bedding models and actresses. He was on magazine covers and advertisements. And you were… you. He wasn’t like the boys in your uni classes or the fellas in your neighborhood, earnest young men who nervously asked girls out at pubs and prayed for a ‘yes’. He was a star.
In an attempt to ease your sudden angst, you let out a light chuckle. “Nike photoshoot, huh? Wow, Kent. You’re so cool.” You turned your face towards him and stuck your tongue out playfully. “It makes me hate you so much.”
Roy shifted his head so he was looking at you. “Me? Cool?” He rolled his eyes. “I never feel fucking cool. Especially not around you.” He gazed back up at the sky. “Always feel like a clumsy little kid around you.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest. His voice was so sincere, not an ounce of the joking and teasing usually aimed at in your direction. And you swore his cheeks were tinted pink- and you didn’t think it was from all the running around. Although your mind was racing to a million different places at once, the only thing you could manage to murmur was, “Well, I think you’re pretty fucking cool, Kent.”
He faced you again, squinting at the setting sun that was hitting him just right. “Thanks.” After a moment, you felt his finger brush tentatively against your knuckles. “D’you think I could call you sometime? While you’re home for the summer?” He shrugged, clearly trying to appear more casual than he felt. “We could… hang out or something.”
If you thought your heart was racing before, it was nothing compared to now. You searched his eyes, looking for some sign that he was goofing around, just fucking with you, but all you could find was sunshine and anticipation. Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you nodded, turning your palm upwards so Roy could rest his hand on yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Yeah, Kent,” you finally whispered as a smile crept across your face. “You could call me sometime.”
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lycheedr3ams · 1 year
Note
Okay. I just had to tell you that the emotionally unavailable König piece stays on my mf*ing mind. I don't know how but you managed to stir a dragon or corrupt me, I don't know, I need therapy I know but I feel so addicted to that drabble. I've read it over and over again.
Like, the little details how he treats you purely professionally when you're not fucking, how he wraps himself with that condom every single time and doesn't even feel bothered, how he chooses solitude (or someone else who knows) over you whenever he wants, how he doesn't seem to even feel much of anything besides the occasional lust?! It's DEVASTATING and I'm frothing at the mouth. I need help haha
Oh and even the pic at the top, that lonely ethereal unseen message "I dream about kissing you often". Wtf dude. Jesus Christ.
Brilliant. I'm just. Out of words. That drabble is art, thank you for sharing ❤️❤️‍🩹❤️ (Also please wish me a speedy recovery)
i think you have just melted my heart❤️❤️❤️
it is a huge compliment for me when people say they reread my fics. this ask has given me inspiration to do a drabble of the situation from könig's perspective.
warning: this may break your heart too...
part 2 of Relapse
part 3
TW: mentions of NSFW below the cut, self-hatred, könig being kinda toxic, brief brief mention of self harm, mentions of canon-typical violence, obsessive!könig, MDNI and just block me atp
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the moment könig laid eyes on you, the task force's incredibly skilled - and beautiful - sniper, he hated you. or rather, he hated how much he was obsessed with you. he wasn't stupid; he knew how all the men on base would stare at you, the way they'd talk about you as you walked by, not even realizing how good your ass and hips looked in your uniform cargo pants. but unlike most guys on base, he saw more than just your curves and feminine charm: he saw a soldier who gave her all to get to where she was, a soldier who dedicated her entire being to her profession and was damn good at it.
unlike him, you never so much as moved a muscle when you lay prone with your sniper rifle. you never fumbled while you reloaded or looked around anxiously, fiddling with a knife so your hands never felt empty. you interacted with others with ease, never seeming to second-guess your words or demeanor. you were the best shot on the task force (don't tell ghost, though), you had the best concentration, and you were irreplaceable. sure, könig was irreplaceable too: no one had his aura, his physical prowess, or his intensity that made enemies flee the moment he saw them. but to könig, that didn't matter: you were everything he could never be.
he knew - thought - that he had no chance with you. you were secretly desired by almost every man on base, so why would you choose him? the jittery and intense newest addition who was just a little too tall, who fidgeted a little too much, and whose accent, he thought, was a little too thick to be alluring. but he also just hated you. hated to see a little woman like yourself literally living his dream of being a sniper. he was usually assigned to guard you when you lay prone while sniping on a mission, and when könig was sure you weren't paying attention, he would glare angrily at you, staring daggers into the back of your head. his eyes would lazily take in your body, but not in a lustful way. könig hated how still you could lay, how you could just concentrate simply on what was through your scope rather than what was in your mind.
but könig couldn't deny the part of himself that just simply wanted to take you. despite how much he hated your skill, he couldn't deny your soft curves, your pretty smile, or how you always wore your favorite perfume when off duty. many nights when könig lay alone in his room on base, he would furiously jerk off the thought of you while clenching his teeth in self-hate, absolutely disgusted with himself for desiring the person who was everything he could never be. könig also hated the way he would come so hard to the thought of forcing you on your knees, making you take all of his throbbing cock in your mouth, fucking into your throat roughly, punishing you for being the soldier he could never be. he loved to imagine the tears that would spring in your eyes at the burn of his thick cock stretching your throat. but worst of all, könig hated himself for wanting to ruin such a pretty little thing like you.
that was, until you began talking to him. the first time you approached könig, you said you were curious about his knives. he froze, thankful that his sniper hood hid his almost blushing cheeks and agape mouth. but könig couldn't help the excitement of your question. someone was interested in something he liked? with quiet, jittery movements, he quickly took out one of his favorite knives from a pants pocket and shoved it almost right in your hands, talking about it wildly in german before you looked up at him with a confused smile. he blushed under his hood and began to speak calmly and quietly in english about his favorite knife that you now held in your small, soft hands. even when you handed the knife back to him after learning all about it, the warmth from your skin lingered on its cold hilt. könig's eyes widened slightly when he felt just how warm it was, and he couldn't help but wonder what other parts of your body were just as warm, or even warmer.
könig began to grow more and more at ease the more you approached him. the night that your conversation ended up with you naked on his bed, he truly thought he was living a dream. the way your soft, feminine curves lay on his bed in his room, how you looked like an absolute goddess surrounded by his knives and guns lying around, was mesmerizing to him. his hatred of you be damned, könig needed you. so he took you just like you wanted and craved.
but even though you had willingly spread your soft, wet folds for him, könig could never bring himself to voice his desires for you. so the next time he saw you in the hallway, his eyes widened as he slowly approached your form, unaware that he was behind you. könig tried to open his mouth to say something - anything - but his mouth went dry and his throat tightened. so instead, he decided to gently cup your waist as you walked past, and went right towards his room. you smiled to yourself and followed him. könig was grateful that no words were needed between you two.
but despite how much he loved being able to be so close to you, to touch you, to be inside you, he could never allow himself to get too close. könig would've rather slit his own wrist than kiss your glossy, warm lips. you were a succubus, he was convinced. if his lips touched yours, he would have been yours forever. and that was something he could not have, no, not with how his hatred for you still lingered in the back of his mind. but the way you'd look sad about his lips never touching yours would make his heart twitch, just a little. some nights könig was so desperate to feel your skin on his tongue that he would gently lick your neck or your breasts, just to get a taste. but könig was used to living without the things he wanted.
there were many nights when könig was too deep within his darkness to reach out to you. he couldn't bring you down into his self-loathing spiral, or show you his weaknesses. on the nights he walked by you without even acknowledging your existence, he simply couldn't bring himself to look at you. if he did, he knew he would budge instantly and gently touch your waist once again so he could take solace in your warm, soft walls. but no, he would rather drown himself in the abyss of his heart than bring you down with him. you had things to live for: friends, family, incredible skill. but könig only had his guns, knives, and a large hand to wrap around his aching length. he never slept with another woman on base. but you were not to know that.
even more so, könig took to the box of condoms like a lifeline. if he kissed you, you'd have his soul. but if he allowed his cock to be fully surrounded by your warm, wet walls? no, no. you would've tied him to you for eternity. that was something that könig could not have, no matter how much he wanted it. he always made sure that condom was on perfectly, making sure that not a single inch of the skin of his cock ever completely touched your walls. even when he would tease the tip of his cock on your clit, there was a layer of thin plastic separating you. (he just loved the way you would gasp and blush when he did that). könig would never allow himself to truly take absolute pleasure in you, no matter how badly he just wanted to fill your womb entirely with him when your legs were pried open perfectly against his broad shoulders, with his sweaty forehead pressing into the mattress.
but as your relationship - if it could be called that - went on, könig realized that he never hated you. he only hated himself for never being able to be the person he wanted to be. you were everything, and he was nothing. you were caring, friendly, warm. but he saw himself as distant, cold, and aloof. sunshine could never reach the deepest, darkest caves under the earth, he thought. what could könig even say to you now, after you two had been with each other time and time again? what could he possibly say to the woman who unknowingly ripped apart old wounds he thought he had stitched? what could he say to the woman who achieved everything he could not? what could he say to the only woman who had ever shown him kindness, the only woman to have ever let him touch her, hold her, fuck her? so, könig opted to only ever say things to you that were necessary to work with you. he could never treat you poorly, not after the way you unknowingly healed the very wounds you created for him, not after the way you welcomed him into your body like he was an extension of yourself.
it was easier for könig to pretend that you weren't somewhat emotionally dependent on him. he could never pluck the flower whose roots were shallow. he was a monster enough as it is, but to just trample and rip up an innocent and beautiful thing? even he couldn't bring himself to do that. so, könig tried to water you in the only way he knew how, but he guarded his life-giving waters from your fertile womb, and only ever teased you with the nutrients you needed. it was enough to make you come back for more whenever he asked for it, but he couldn't allow himself to take advantage of you, too much. könig wanted to see you grow and blossom, not to be the one to dry you out and wither you.
so könig chose to edge you with his affection whenever he chose, and hoped that you would understand. he hoped that you wouldn't grow tired of the balm he offered you on the nights that he was able to crawl out of himself; the balm that was covered in blood and semen and tears.
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sk3tch404 · 5 months
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Late Night Hanma Blurb
A/n: Thought abt this during an itty-bitty road trip today. Smoker Hanma does smth to the chemicals in my brain. Forgive me for any lengthy bad writing. I've had a long day and I just wanna yip yap about one of my fav crazies 🙇
CW: Hanma can give two shits about your lung health but chooses not to when he feels like it, intimidation, threats of forced drug usage, sometimes forced participation in violent activities, thoughts of lovers suicide/murder(?), and whatever other yappin I put in here.
Hanma who smokes a fuck ton and doesn't mind giving you the good ol' second-hand effects of it, but absolutely detests you doing it on your own.
He snatches the stick from your mouth and holds it up and away from you with a small grit in his teeth. Hanma glares down in some curiosity but clearly squints in irritation.
"The hell is this? Don't tell me I'm being a bad influence on you now. If I catch you with one of these again, I won't let you off the hook so easily. You got it, Y/n?"
When you retort, telling him it's no different from when he does it and it is your own choice whether he likes it or not, he merely scoffs with a tilt of his narrow head. Throwing down the cigarette, the sound of his sneaker stomping and scraping it out against the pavement echos through the air with an annoying presence. Shuji demands the rest of your stash with a looming stare that can only put you into a state of sinking discimfort.
"Come on, don't be stubborn. Ya know, if you wanna do it so bad, why don't you try the whole pack? Mine too since it's a shitload better than that cheap stuff."
Reluctant on suffocation and early lung cancer, you begrudgingly hand over your smokes to him. Hanma smacks down on the box with an evidently loud shot of noise and slides it out of your palm--- pocketing it. He stretches out narrow smile as he leans down towards you.
"See, now it ain't so hard to listen."
He's still ticked off by the fact you think you can do whatever to your body without his permission, but since Shuji is so generous, he'll let you learn from your mistakes. See, he can be nice.
Don't test him though. Next time you're caught defying his selfish wishes, he's beating you down with degrading language and probably also beating whoever was involved. The convenience store employee that sold you the cigs, vape, or maybe even chewing tobacco? Yeah he's taking out his held back frustration on them. Bro is jumping over the counter and tearing their shit up.
Avoiding him because of his brutal and honest-to-God psychopathic personality? Now that's just cruel. Shuji is dragging your ass by the back of your shirt and pushes you to his motorcycle. The leopard print on the back of the bike makes you wanna barf every time you see it, but you got to keep it down if you wanna have enough energy to deal with him. He'll take you out no matter where you are at in that point of time and make you remember who he is; who you think you're messing with.
"Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you? Aim for the nose. That's easy for amateurs like you. Actually, lemme show you how to really deliver a jaw breaker-"
Yeah, he'll show you just how bad it can get with some random thugs on the street. You should be grateful with how gentle he's treating you. Instead of ending up with facial fractures, you have nice dates and thoughtful gifts. He's even teaching you a few tricks. How lucky can you get?
"I'm all done. Shit, I'm starved. Let's go grab a bite to eat, kay?"
Hanma thinks the only way you'll ever keep paying attention to him is if he keeps you and your actions in line. If you go off doing your own thing, his usually unmoving heart can't just stand there and watch you slowly leave him. Despite the negativity be brings into your life, he actually gets really fuckin anxious when he doesn't know or understand what you're doing. It's so troublesome how you make him feel. Yeah, being bored as shit is bad, but seeing you, the only thing that could ever bring him down to his knees unwillingly, slip away with nothing but disdain for him? Fuck no. He won't accept it. Shuji would rather kill you and then himself than have to bear the strange feeling of pain, or what other people call heartbreak, by his lonesome self.
Should he ever say he loves you, that would be the point of no return for the both of you. His hands have you tight in his clutches. No way out, no way back in for anyone else.
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cloudysarts · 6 days
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Hi there!!
I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential
I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust
Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:
maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head
Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper
Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy
I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language
I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!
first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)
you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!
first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed
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as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^
for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.
IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...
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i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...
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erinwantstowrite · 28 days
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hi! hope your having a good day/night/timezone/etc.! u got any writing tips (like how to not lose motivation/use up as much of it as u can while u have it, any ways to get the words flowing/“get in the writing mood” that have worked for u) for any of ur fellow fic writers? (idk if this’s been asked b4 (it seems like a common question lmao), but if it has, ‘pologies, lolol ^^)
i have a few that i've been thinking up to try and post!!
remember that you aren't on a deadline to write, and to take the time you need. no one wants to read something you rushed, let alone do YOU want to read it. and it REALLY matters if you love what you're writing. you'll kill your motivation trying to keep up with something like that!! if you only had time to write 300 or you had a great day and wrote like 3000, you're doing great either way!!!
there's a lot to keep up with when you're writing, and you have to remember and understand all of it. if you're trying to write while you're tired/upset/etc, you'll likely end up with something you're not that proud of. (granted, art is art, and sometimes these emotions can create something beautiful or meaningful). take metal breaks so you can come back to your work with a fresh mind, and don't overexert yourself. you'll remember and understand more if you treat your writing time like you would when you're studying. sometimes i make flashcards to remember characters, places, events, etc.
sometimes i can get too analytical with my writing, or it starts to become flat? if that makes sense? meaning, like... i'm putting words on paper rather than delving into the story. too many "they felt this way" and not enough "Character A turns to face the man that had changed their entire life with the single shot of a bullet, careless to what damage he could have caused. It's haunting to see that the man is simply that: a man. Not a monster as they had imagined, laying awake at night and wondering what their father had seen in his final moments. He's just a man." what helps with this is putting myself into the shoes of a narrator, remembering that i am telling the story as if i already know what's happening (even if I don't know where I'm going with a scene yet). i imagine that my reader is right there next to me and i'm telling them the story in real time like we're sitting around a campfire telling ghost stories, or that i'm the quirky narrator of a book they just picked up.
During times where i'm losing inspiration or feel like i'm in a loop, i like to go back to my favorite medias and spend some time with them. i recently rewatched Gravity Falls, the Sea Beast, and the Adam Project, and it was a fun mental break that got me into the writing mood. i try to find similar media to what i'm writing at that time. if i want a scene focused on funny banter or a comedic effect, i read or watch comedy. if i want to write a scary scene, i'll watch a horror movie. etc etc. "studying" your favorite media and putting yourself into your fav writer's writing shoes is a great way to improve your own writing. think about why that joke was funny, what the set up was that made it that way, and if it would have been a different joke if another character said it (Gravity Falls is one of the best media you can use for this, but really, reading mysteries in general can help)
physical exercise, if you can. getting your blood flowing and treating your body well!! when i was in band, we used to do "body warm ups" set to music, and i still do them to this day. it gets me awake and alert while also letting me listen to fun music before i write
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