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#please don't take offense to what I've said
kaleldobrev · 1 month
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Adventures in Babysitting
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader; Past William Butcher x F. Supe!Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader, William Butcher, Soldier Boy/Ben & Hughie Campbell
Summary: The last thing you wanted was to babysit Soldier Boy — but here you are.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Cursing (23x), Offensive/Derogatory Language, Smut (P in V, Fingering, Unprotected Sex), Supe Shaming & Implied Drug Use
Authors Note: Even though I’m used to writing smut, I’m a little rusty, so apologies if this is not up to snuff with the other times I have written smut | I’ve been on such a Ben kick lately, hope y’all don’t mind! | MDNI — 18+ ONLY PLEASE | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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"Why am I the one that has to fucking babysit him?" You whispered yelled at Butcher, not trying to be remotely quiet in the process.
Butcher looked at you, and let out a small chuckle. "Cause Princess, you're the only one of us that, that Radioactive Cunt actually listens to. 'Sides, you're one of his kind."
You huffed. Like I had a fucking choice in the matter, you thought. "But you and Hughie are already going to be taking Temp V to go on your little suicide mission," you said, now raising your arms out of pure frustration. Your reaction and comment lead Butcher to just simply laugh.
"We ain't wastin' Temp V looking after him when you already got some in ya," he winked, giving your shoulder a little bump. "Sides, don't think your power is gonna be real useful for this."
It was now your turn to raise a brow and chuckle. "You don't think that my power of life draining people to the point of death isn't useful in this situation?"
"When I have laser eyes and Hughie can teleport? No. Our powers aren't hands on unlike yours," Butcher said.
"Now your power shaming me?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. "That's low Butch, especially after all the fucking times I've saved your British ass."
"Be mad at me all you want Princess, you're staying here," Butcher said, as he picked up his duffel bag. "I'll make it up to ya," he winked, and all you did was give him a disgusted look. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, his tone a little bit more cheerful than it had been previously.
As Butcher walked out the door, you huffed. "Un-fucking-believable," you mumbled. You walked over to the couch and sat down, still keeping your arms folded as you slumped down and stared at the floor, slightly grinding your teeth.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ben asked, strolling into the room from the bathroom.
You glared at him, still with the look of death. "You. You're my fucking problem," your words coming off a lot harsher than you had intended them to sound. But you were pissed, and maybe a little bit jealous. Before Hughie came along, it was always the Y/N and Butcher Show, but now, it was the Hughie and Butcher Show. You felt slightly betrayed and felt like you had lost your best friend.
Ben looked at you with a confused look, his eye brows furrowed. "What the fuck did I do? I was in the fucking bathroom."
"You exist, that's why," you huffed, still with your arms crossed, barely looking at him as you answered.
"What's up with this fucking hot and cold shit uh? When I first met you, you were ready to hop on my cock, no questions asked, and now you wish I didn't exist?" Ben's reaction was one that you weren't expecting from him. You were expecting him to have some kind of sassy remark like 'Fuck you,' or 'Same here,' but not this time. This time, he almost seemed genuinely hurt that you told him that, even if you didn't really mean it.
In reality, you genuinely did like Ben; and really didn't have an actual problem with him. The only problem that you did have with him, was that he was too similar to you, and that honestly scared you sometimes.
"I'm just pissed okay?" You answered, your tone a little bit calmer now. You uncrossed your arms and let out a giant sigh.
Ben walked over to you, and sat next to you. "Do you...I can't believe I'm asking but...Do you want to...talk...about...it?" His words sounding almost as if he actually cared about what you had to say.
"No," your voice short. "I rather do something else," you continued. You finally looked him in the eyes now, and he looked at you with the same kind of confused look he had looked at you previously with.
"Yeah?" He asked, as you placed your hand on his thigh. He looked down at your hand, and then looked back up at you. "Don't start something you won't finish Sweetheart," he asked.
You didn't say anything but kept eye contact with him as you got up from the couch. "Where you goin' Sweetheart?" He asked, watching your every movement. But you remained silent; the only reaction you had was your facial expression. The death glare you had previously, was now replaced with that of slight lust.
As you stared at him, your fingers went on either side of your hips and went in the inside of your shorts. You started to slowly shimmy them down, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so. "Fucking tease," he mumbled. His comment caused you to smirk.
Once your shorts and underwear were completely off, they fell into a puddle at your feet, and you stepped out of them. You walked back to Ben and sat on his lap; your knees on either side of his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, his hands found your back and went inside of your shirt where they stopped mid-back. "No bra?" He smirked.
"I think they're rather inconvenient don't you think?" You asked in a whisper.
"I think so," he agreed. "You know what else is?"
"What?" You asked.
"This." In one swift movement, he lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it into the floor half-way across the room, leaving you completely naked on top of you — a sight that he's been dreaming about since the second he laid his eyes on you.
Once your shirt was off, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him in close to you, crashing your lips against his. You didn't mean to be so gentle with him, as you knew he could handle rough, but there was just something about him, about this situation that had wanted you to take things weirdly slow with him, instead of the usual rushed sex you were so used to having with Butcher.
Your body rocked against him, and his hands were squeezing your sides to the point that you could feel a slight amount of pain — the good kind of pain, and you let out a tiny moan. His lips moved to your neck, and you shut your eyes, loving the way his lips and tongue felt against your skin.
He nipped every so often on your skin, intending to leave bruises; but it would be a little hard to, given that you were also a Supe, but he was going to try nonetheless.
"Ben," you moaned, when he finally reached the space in-between your breasts. You felt him smirk against your skin. As if it were second nature, your hands found the back of his head, and you started almost massaging his scalp, twisting his hair between your fingers.
His hands moved from behind your back, and you missed the feeling of that warmness against you. But you were more than happy with where they were currently going. Without looking down, and keeping his mouth on yours, a few of his fingertips brushed up against your clit, and your breath hitched. He was barely touching you, and yet, you felt yourself starting to form into a puddle.
Ben couldn't help but widen his smirk as he touched you. He loved how wet you were for him, and he had barely touched you. "You like Sweetheart?" He asked against your lips, as he slowly started to slip one of his fingers slowly inside of you. It was his turn to tease you now.
Your breath hitched again, and he knew he had you. He slipped another finger inside of you, and he pumped his two fingers slowly in and out of you, knowing that this felt like torture for you. It might of felt like torture for you, but he wanted to enjoy this, because he didn't know if he would ever have this chance again.
You were hot and cold with him. One minute you were flirting with him, and the next you were calling him an asshole. But in either scenario, he couldn't help but imagine what you sounded like moaning his name, or how you would look as he fucked you.
"So fucking wet for me," he mumbled against your jaw. His fingers not picking up the pace in the slightest. You loved and hated what he was doing.
"Only for you," you whispered; your voice sounding blissful. "Ben...please..." you begged.
"Please what?" He asked, nipping at your neck.
"Make me come," you said, still in that same blissful tone.
"Mm, with pleasure," he replied. Without a second thought, his two fingers started to pump in and out of you a bit faster than they had been previously. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, you rocked against them, trying to add more pressure and trying to get that quick release that you had been longing for.
Within seconds, you found yourself coming against his fingers. Letting out a moan, it became muffled as his lips found yours again. You moaned into his mouth; and you could his cock started to getting harder, which caused you to start smirking against his lips now.
Once you rid out your orgasm, he removed his fingers from you, and stuck them into his mouth; smirking as he did so. "I'll never get tired of that," he said.
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You were on your back now, your left leg over Ben's shoulder, and the tip of his cock lining up to your entrance. If you were being honest with yourself, you were slightly nervous, but you were also excited about the feeling. "You ready for me Sweetheart?" he grinned, and you nodded.
Without anymore hesitation, he started to press the tip of his cock inside of you. You were slightly surprised at how gentle and slow he was being, as it was something that you weren't expecting from someone like him.
The farther he pressed his cock inside of you, the fuller you started to feel; a feeling that you couldn't help but moan to. "Fuck," you breathed out.
"I've heard a lot of women moaning in my life, but yours...fuck, it's like music to my ears," he smirked. "The sweetest I've ever heard." His weird compliment oddly made you feel good.
Once he was fully inside of you, the look on his face was that of pure delight, and you couldn't help but slightly chuckle. "Is it everything you hoped for?" You slightly joked.
"Better," he grinned.
He started out slow and gentle like he had been, almost as if he was cherishing the feeling. There was a part of you that was enjoying it, as you weren't used to a slow and gentle kind of sex; but the other part of you wanted him to speed up, as you knew the both of you would be able to handle the slight roughness.
The sounds of soft moans and grunts filled the room, but every so often they were muffled when you or Ben kissed the other. "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted to fuck you," he whispered against your lips.
"I think I have an idea," you whispered back. Probably just as long, or longer than I have, you wanted to say.
"You feel so fucking good Sweetheart," he whispered again. He started kissing down your jaw again, and stopped at your neck, nipping at the skin once more. Still no marks, he thought. Disappointing.
As he continued to move in and out of you, you started to feel the slight pressure building and building, and you knew you were close. You were excited for the release, but didn't want the closeness that you were currently feeling with Ben to end. "I'm so close," you said, your words slightly breathy sounding.
"Already?" He grinned. Good, he thought. With a few more quick pumps, you found yourself coming around his cock; pure bliss and pleasure leaving your body. You moaned loudly as you came, and you didn't have to open your eyes to look at Ben to know how much he was enjoying seeing you like this.
As you came down from your high, the short breather that you had was simply that — short, as Ben started coming inside of you, which only reignited your high.
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Ben pulled himself out of you, and you removed your slightly limp leg from his shoulder. “Come here,” he said, and you furrowed your brow in confused. “I said come here,” he repeated, with outstretched arms.
Before you could move, he rolled his eyes and brought you to himself, not liking the slowness that you were currently doing. When he pulled you close to him, he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you; your head tucked underneath his chin. “Would have never pegged you as a cuddler,” you teased.
“I spent almost forty fucking years without skin to skin contact, humor me,” he said.
He was touch starved, you thought, and you swore that your heart broke just a little bit.
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Half A Day Later…
You and Ben were on the couch together, your legs in his lap while his hands were on your bare thighs; his fingertips mindlessly tracing circles on them. There was an almost empty bottle of Jack between you that you had been sharing, along with a joint. The scene looked both romantic and casual — it felt nice.
"You know, I never messed up any of my lines in this movie," Ben noted, pointing at the screen with the bottle of Jack. "Unlike fucking Gunpowder," he mumbled, sounding slightly annoyed.
"He was like what fourteen and it was his first movie? Is that supposed to impress me?" You asked, raising a brow.
"Well ye—" but his sentence was cut off when the motel door abruptly swung open.
"Evening Cunts," Butcher said, his face and clothes splattered in blood.
"How'd the mission go? I see neither one of you are dead," you said, once Hughie entered the room, he too was covered in blood.
"We won," Butcher grinned, tossing his duffel bag onto the floor which sounded a lot heavier than it had been previously when he left much earlier in the day.
"How'd it go here?" Hughie asked. "I'm sorry we didn't bring you," his statement sounding genuine.
"No worries," you replied, trying your best to keep the slight jealousy that you had from showing. "It went fine here."
"I'd say more than fine," Butcher said, his tone slightly teasing and a little jealous sounding in nature as he pointed at your neck.
Your eye brows furrowed, and you lifted up your phone, turning the camera toward you. "Son of a Bitch," you mumbled, as you saw a few purpleish bruises on your neck. Hickeys, great, you thought.
Ben turned toward you now, turning your head to face him so he could admire his handiwork that he worked so hard on. "Well look at that," he grinned, slightly impressed with himself. "Ever make those kind of marks on her?" He asked, smirking in Butcher's direction.
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florisa6s · 4 months
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A idea- mostly bats
I like the idea of different heros getting those good meds after a hard mission...
----
Tim: are you sure you have it handeled?
Wally on the phone: Of course i have it handled, no offense but I've been taking care of your brother for years now-
*Dick in the background wobbling out of the medbay making his escape*
Wally:-so I think I know exactly-
*Dick punching a random person as he fights security behind Wally*
Wally:- how to do it!
*Screams in the background*
-----
Tim: Dick I really don't think thats a good Idea right now....
Dick: what do you mean Damian is loving it! look how happy he is.
*Damian in a pool with a Nightwing floaty and arm floatys looking into the distance with wide eyes*
Tim: he looks like he's going through an existential crisis...or roleplaying a dead goldfish.
Dick: no, he's so happy! look at that face and tell me he's not overjoyed!
Jason: he is not overjoyed.
------
Tim: okay weird question- when superman is on pain meds what would someone do if *hypothetically* someone who looks like Superman is currently floating up into the sky towards the sun and you can't get him down because your busy saving your brother from flying away too-
*Damian holding a sleeping Jon on a leash about to fly away with Tim holding Damians legs.*
Tim: so what would someone do..... hypothetically.
*pulls out binoculars to look at a equally sleeping Kon floating past the clouds.*
------
Bruce: have- have I ever told you bout my wifey?
all:....
Oliver: no please do tell *pulls out recorder*
Hal: yeah don't skip any details *flips open a notepad clicking a pen*
Bruce: she is the most beautiful, strongest woman I ever married-
Clark and Diana: aww...
Bruce: she gave me the most beautiful angel son and I'm so proud-
Barry: wait son-
Bruce: but shes always too busy killing people to visit and my son looks exactly like her! he even gives me the same disgusted look when I drink out of the milk carton-
all:....
Hal: uh...kill? she kills people?
Bruce: yes I just said that pay attention Jordan. Now don't even get me started on my kids-
*long tangent about how much he loves his kids*
Bruce: -And thats why my little boys are the best, any questions
Clark: I thought you work alone-
Barry: -And that you hate metas!
-----
Dick: uhh what's going on here?
Tim: Jason is killing me *on a chair reading a book*
Dick: really?
Tim: yup
*Jason on the bed holding gun fingers towards Dick*
Jason: Pew, pew clack clack click
Dick: what did he just do?
Tim: he shot you, ran out of anmo, reloaded and-
Jason: pew!
Tim:-And he just killed you with a headshot.
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Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:
This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:
First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)
These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.
I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.
This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.
Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.
This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.
If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.
With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.
Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can
Food
Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).
This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.
Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.
(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)
Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.
The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.
And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.
It's What Humans Do
In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).
He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).
What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.
But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.
Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?
Angels, Demons, & Asexuality
Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.
Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)
And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).
The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.
I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.
Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.
Except...
Brielzebub
We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.
For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.
And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).
Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.
Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.
Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction
But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?
And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.
At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).
So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?
I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.
After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)
Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.
However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".
Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.
I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.
But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.
(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)
More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.
Aziraphale's Hedonism
Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.
It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.
Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.
Dancing
I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.
I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.
We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.
(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)
As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.
Love Languages
I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.
We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.
You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.
The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).
And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.
So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.
So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.
"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"
Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.
First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")
(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)
More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.
Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.
The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).
Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.
Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.
The Birds & The Bees
Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.
Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.
Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.
The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma
The Kiss. Where to even begin?
This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.
Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.
It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.
Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.
Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.
So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.
I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.
What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.
All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.
(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)
Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).
Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.
In Conclusion
I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.
So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.
You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.
But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.
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Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post
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beelmons · 1 year
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Luxury Poker Nights pt. 2
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Pairing: Hotch, Reid, Morgan x fem!reader Rating: Explicit, smut (18+, minors do not interact with this story) Word count: 5,806 cw: unprotected sex (do not recommend), sex-servant kink, voyeurism, multiple partners, non-vegan food options, slight degradation, free use kink Summary: It's Aaron's turn to host the poker night, and he figured it would be a great move to invite the entertainment they all fervently enjoyed last time: you. A/N: This was so highly requested I hope it lives up to expectations. Prompted by an original blurb found here Tag list: @illumi3 @ash-recs @canyonmooncreations @howabouticallyou @unlikelyqueenninja @kay-moranguinho and my always honorary mentions: @ihavemanyhusbands @cassiemartzz
Meeting Aaron Hotchner was nothing short of an absolute pleasure. Gentle, kind, considerate, funny when he finally got rid of the stoic boss facade, everything you would love in a partner whether casual or serious. All these reasons played a role in deciding to partake on a very specific contract: to serve as his servant, sexually speaking. 
"Hey," Aaron greeted you before leaning in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek. 
"Hey, Mr. Hotchner." you replied. 
His head tilted and eyebrows raised with playful offense "I've told you, if you don't want to call me Aaron, at least go with Hotch." 
Every so often he would call you in, mostly to a very beautiful house owned by a man you knew as Rossi, and you'd come for the sole purpose to act out your role. To serve and please them. 
This time, however, he was hosting in his own apartment. It was the classic bachelor pad, the adult version, barely decorated but tidy and resourceful. You had been in there only once, but you had memorized the area pretty well. He also looked especially handsome, navy blue polo shirt and denim black pants with casual sneakers, you could notice his toned biceps in that outfit. 
"What are my instructions for today?" you asked as you got in, taking a look around to remember the layout. 
"The usual. Although, I might ask you to take charge of the kitchen for a little bit. Bring snacks, beverages, nothing too complicated. Oh, and…” he began to say, reaching for a bag that was laying by the entrance “this.” 
From it, he pulled out what seemed like a traditional maid apron. You could tell he had it tailored for your body, and that the lace around it seemed to be fine, not the cheap ones costume stores had. You reached for it and pulled it from the strings you were supposed to tie, you hovered it over your body to catch a preview of what it would look like, the man had a good eye, it sure made you feel hot. 
“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can ditch it.” he tried to reassure you, seeing how you kept admiring the piece. 
“It’s alright, Mr. Hotchner. But a maid outfit? I thought you preferred me in the bare.” you teased. 
“Don’t worry, we still get plenty of access to the parts of you we love the most, being that the apron is the only garment of the costume you will actually wear.” his hands slipped in his pockets, his face lighting up with a smug smile “You can change in the bathroom, the guys should be here soon.” 
You made your way to the mentioned room to obey your first order of the night. Aaron waited patiently in the kitchen, putting together a couple more things so that the serving part of your job would be easier. Nonetheless, a knock on the door distracted him from his duty. He hurried to open, immediately being greeted by Morgan and Reid. 
“Hey, where’s Dave?” he asked, noticing a missing member. 
“He said he’s got something to do but he’ll catch us—” Morgan’s eyes fixed on something behind Hotch, and his train of thought completely disappeared “—later.” 
The boss turned around when he noticed Spencer’s perplexed eyes, similar to Morgan’s, and he smiled to himself as he turned around to watch you already in your ‘uniform’, to call it some way. The apron was comfortably secured around your waist, the length of it barely covering your front to the middle of your thighs, your back absolutely exposed, being that the fabric of the apron was only on the forepart, your upper body out in the open, with your nipples already perked from the cold air conditioning hitting them. And to them, you were the most beautiful of monuments. 
“What’s your safe word?” Aaron asked, his eyes immediately scanning your body.
“Cacao.” you said confidently, your head nodding in reassurance. 
Aaron looked back at Spencer and Morgan, making sure they caught what you had said. They both shook their heads in agreement, and so he locked the door behind them “Let’s begin poker night, then.” he ordered. 
“I’ll get some drinks for you guys.” you said, and you were about to move to the kitchen when Hotch’s voice stopped you. 
“I believe I haven’t given you permission to speak.” he emitted in a commanding voice. 
You understood his words for what they were: a warning. He had been clear enough, when you were there to work, you had to be diligent. Always keep yourself busy, available, and quiet, those were the rules you had signed up for. Your hands folded on your lap and you bowed your head slightly in response. 
Once they were out of your sight, you headed to the kitchen. You gathered a couple of snacks that Mr. Hotchner had prepared; some peanuts, pretzels, and cut up fruit, added with three open beers. He had let a tray out for you as well, possibly with the intention of making everything easier. By the time you got to the table and began to spread the food and beverages around they had already dealt the cards. 
You settled the empty tray on the side on a random surface, and Mr. Hotchner spread one arm in your direction indicating you that he wanted you to join his side; you did as he desired and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to sit on his leg. As if ritualistic, the hand that was closer to his body was grabbed and brought to his lips, a gentle kiss landed on the back of it, and then he guided it to his member, that at some point he had already exposed. It was an instinct, you already knew what to do. Your hand began to slowly massage the barely hard shaft, and you could hear him exhale particularly hard at the sensation. 
“Rules will change for tonight. You can’t bet ‘All in’ unless you have at least fifteen chips, and you can’t bet two rounds in a row.” Aaron began to say. 
“Isn’t 15 a bit expensive?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed with doubt. 
“Not at all, given that an ‘all in’ winner also gets 10 minutes to command our servant as they please.” his hand dragged upwards, purposely taking his time to brush your skin with his fingertips, nipple included, until they landed on your chin, tilting your face to have you look in the direction of the other two men “And you could agree, she’s worth the risk.” 
Your breath hitched in your throat at the way they hungrily stared at you, but they didn’t say anything further, both Morgan and Reid simply went back to looking at their cards. 
The game began and you hadn’t been given permission to move, you had to remain on Mr. Hotchner’s leg, caressing his member. He seemed unbothered by your steady movement, but you could feel him throb every so often, and it would fill you with cocky pride. That was another rule: you weren’t allowed to go rogue, they came when they wanted to, not when you caused them to. If you acted too smart and tried to make them climax before they wanted to, you were sidelined, given the silent treatment. That was more punishment than doing anything else to you, because chances were you were going to enjoy whatever else. 
You would steal a glance at random times to notice his tip swollen and reddened, even when he tried to keep composure, and continued to play his hands normally, you had learned the little twitches his dick made whenever he was getting close. His head turned to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, giving you permission to keep going. Your hand trailed down to give his balls a gentle squeeze, which caused a loud groan to come out of his throat, and after a couple more fast strokes he began to spill his seed. 
Mr. Hotchner had been clear that he did not like messes; his entire member was coated in his semen, and some had spilled over his pants as well. You reached for one of the pockets the apron had sown on to find a handkerchief that you recognized as his, in seconds, you were on your knees, you wiped clean the fabric of his pants, his shaft, on the other hand, didn’t require the cloth, you grabbed at the base and licked a strip up, repeating the same movement until he was clean, and hard yet again. 
“All in.” Morgan’s voice snapped everyone’s attention, and since you hadn’t been given indication to do otherwise, your mouth kept working Aaron’s dick.
“Already? You’ve only won one round.” Spencer asked, his math not quite adding up. 
“I’ve got enough.” he clarified. 
“You got exactly 15, though, if you lose this, you don’t get any more.” Hotch looked in his direction.
Morgan’s head tilted slightly to the side, catching sight of your still bobbing head. He smiled as a response to his boss’s explanation, pushing the chips forward to the center of the table. 
“She’s worth the risk.” he said, a wink sent to Spencer. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, even if you weren’t able to stop your current activity unless indicated. 
The other two men exchanged looks, if they didn’t raise, they would still lose, perhaps that was part of Morgan’s scheme, but they weren’t about to just give you up by default. They pushed the corresponding chips to the pool in the center, and Reid was the first one to open his cards. Full house, nines over jacks. Hotch was in a slump, two pairs, queens and kings. 
“Full house.” Morgan said before he opened his cards, and Spencer’s attention was specially perked “Aces over sevens.” he finally said. 
Spencer let out a soft curse under his breath as Morgan laughed in pride, he was certainly rejoicing on having made that play. You received a light tap on your shoulder that indicated you it was time to move masters, and so you stood up and directed to stand next to Derek. 
“Actually, sweetheart, I will need you in the kitchen for a bit.” he said, his hand nonetheless landing on the skin of your rear, gently squeezing it “Peanuts and pretzels are a bit hard on my stomach, do you think you could make me a quick sandwich?” he asked ever so chivalrously.  
“Anything in particular you would like?” you asked, taking his question as permission to speak. 
“Some ham and bacon would be excellent, thank you.” with a soft slap of your ass he sent you your merry way. 
Kitchen duty was on the original arrangement, although you didn’t quite picture yourself making sandwiches, Derek’s smile was so charming you would learn gourmet cuisine just to please him. 
You gathered the required stuff, bread, some mayonnaise, and the ham and bacon. Being that you were topless, using a pan was out of the question, so you used the tray on the small electric oven that was next to the stove to cook the pork strips. You were too entranced by the silly way in which the meat shrunk to notice that Derek had walked into the kitchen, only becoming aware of his presence when he leaned next to you against the counter. 
“You make a great maid.” he pointed out, and you bolted up a little from the surprise. His hand instinctively reached for your waist, trying to keep you from falling back “Easy, you might hurt yourself.” 
Even when he made sure your feet were steady, he didn’t remove his hand from where it was, in fact, he simply took a couple of steps closer. 
“I enjoy servicing.” you said, eyes traveling south. You could see his cock already hanging out from his zipper, and you tried to reach for it in an attempt to caress it. His free hand, however, stopped you. 
“I can see that. You also take initiative, that’s impressive.” he began, his hand bringing yours up to press a kiss to it in a similar way Hotch used to do, but instead of allowing it to stroke his member, he directed it to the kitchen utensils you had laid out “But I believe for things to be done right they have to be done with the utmost concentration, so why don’t we focus on that sandwich, huh?” 
You pouted a little and he let out a light chuckle at your disappointment. You went back to the task at hand, getting a dull butter knife to begin spreading the mayonnaise around the slice. You felt the warmth of his touch leave your waist, and you were about to complain yet again until you felt one of his fingers sneak between your legs and trail up your slit. 
You shuddered and your legs instinctively closed. He tsk’ed his tongue in disapproval, and you understood to return them to their original position. Derek wasted no time, the two fingers in the middle of his hand slipping into your cunt. He was fixated on your face, absorbing every expression as you melted due to his digits, your hands gripping on the surface, leaving the sandwich unattended. 
“I haven’t told you to stop working, have I?” he whispered commandingly. 
His fingers began to curl upwards inside of you as they continued to move inside and out, getting coated with your juices. You tried your best to keep yourself still, your hand shakily reaching for the rest of the ingredients. He didn’t stop his movements even when you dropped the knife on the counter from the way he hit the back of your cunt.
“Careful.” he warned at the clinking sound, you peeked over your shoulder while you grabbed the utensil and out of the corner of your eye you could notice his hand moving over his now hardened cock “Come on, beautiful, keep going.” 
You shook your head a little in an attempt to clear it, even when his relentless fingers weren’t giving you the opportunity. You finally managed to pay attention and began to assemble the deli meats. You barely noticed when he moved behind you until you felt his tip rub against your entrance. 
His hands ran over your front as he pushed inside of you, slowly, and they landed on your breasts. A pleasure mewl slipped past your mouth, but you cut it short. 
“Come on, now, I’m not Hotch.” he complained while he gave you the chance to adjust to his member “You don’t gotta have my permission to talk, let that voice out.” 
His hips snapped rather roughly against yours, a loud slapping sound echoing around the kitchen; it caused a loud moan from you, one that you were sure could be heard from the other room. “That’s a good girl.” he praised. 
His initial rhythm wasn’t slow, after all he was in a hurry. It made assembling the sandwich all much more difficult, you struggled to open the door of the electric oven, almost getting burned thanks to the way his cock so deeply pushed inside you, all while your throat was unable to keep quiet, intermittent noises unsteady from his thrusts. 
One of his hands slipped down and in between your legs, the tip of his middle finger rubbed at your clit with a gentle speed, almost unmatching to his hips. You sensed him look over your shoulder to check up on the status of his food, and your hand trembled as you set the bacon down to finish it up. He laughed with pleasure, and his fingers dipped on the skin around your hips. 
“Can you take it, baby?” you could feel his thick member erratically twitching inside of you as he asked, and you nodded your head fervently “Of course you can.” he reassured. 
He snapped a couple more times, rough enough to make you lose your balance and press up against the counter, before you heard him grunt and felt your cunt being filled with his spill. The sensation of his cock pushing your walls sent you over the edge, and you began to drip with your release, a loud moan accompanying the blissful sensation. He pulled out with ease, not waiting for you to come out of your high, and stepped away to grab the meal you had prepared. 
“Thank you, beautiful, looks delicious.” he winked at you with his signature charming smile before he began walking out of the kitchen “Oh, and pretty boy said he wanted some iced tea, be a doll and bring it after you’re done cleaning up, thanks.” 
Without further word, he vanished from your sight. You had to take a second to catch your breath, desperate for a bit more friction. You considered touching yourself, but if Mr. Hotchner were to catch you, you wouldn’t be able to come again all night, he would make sure of it. 
You could feel Derek’s cum beginning to drip, but the cleanliness of the kitchen was a priority. You abided by the task that you had been handed, after a couple of minutes of cleaning up, since you hadn’t made a big mess, you prepared the beverage for Dr. Reid and headed back to the area. You settled the glass of iced tea next to the man that had requested it. 
“All in.” as soon as you stood next to him, you heard the youngest of the group exclaim, he then muttered a casual ‘thank you’ at the gesture of having his drink brought over. 
Hotch and Morgan exchanged playful glances. They knew he was rushing, his decision possibly prompted by the fact that your breasts were so close to his face; they noticed the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and Aaron had paid attention to how he palmed his bulge while he heard you get taken in the kitchen. Logic just flew out of the window when you were around, and his coworkers adored seeing that side of him. 
“You got me.” Morgan said as he folded his cards, and Reid cockily took a sip off his drink.  
“I’ll play.” Hotch mentioned before adding his chips to the pool. 
“Two pairs. Kings and Queens.” Spencer opened his hand. 
On his part, Hotch could simply scoff while he threw his cards on the table. “Jacks and Queens.” he said with pretend defeat. 
The blond man boasted with his expression in pure pride. He didn’t use to be the kind to order you around, unlike the other two who had gotten very comfortable, and preferred you took the initiative during game sessions. 
This time, nonetheless, he looked quite eager to take control. Once he noticed you looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for your command. He narrowed his eyes, ever inexperienced, trying to come up with something, or rather trying to find the right way to ask. 
“Could you…” he stopped to try and analyze his next words “Could you bend over?” he motioned towards the table. 
It took your entire strength to not laugh, you weren’t making fun of him, he was just ridiculously adorable, and it made hard contrast with the whole situation in the first place and his actual sexual interests. You obeyed, not wanting to make him self-conscious, moving Derek’s plate out of the way elegantly before resting your entire body face-down against the piece of furniture. 
You let out a quiet whimper from the contrast in temperature; your ass was left up and exposed in his direction. He finally stood up, and you looked back to peek at what he was up to, his hips had lined up with yours, his member was still clothed, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing at your asscheeks and pressing his bulge against your dripping cunt. 
“Why don’t we change the game?” his eyes were glued on your skin wrinkling up with every push, but he kept talking to his coworkers “How about blackjack? Hotch can play house” he proposed. 
“Reid, it’s literally illegal for you to play blackjack in two states.” Hotch pointed out. 
“That’s true. You have an unfair advantage.” Morgan added. 
“Card counting can only be done with extreme concentration and observation of the cards being dealt.” his eyes didn’t leave your body, his palm gently massaging your skin as he kept rubbing himself on you “And I happen to be too busy to pay enough attention.” 
“Alright, but blackjack is a fast game. The player needs to win at least three rounds to claim their prize. Draws don’t count towards the winning number.” Aaron clarified.
The rest of the players nodded in agreement. Mr. Hotchner was the dealer, since he was playing the role of ‘the house’, and he began assigning the first round of cards. Before he got to Reid, though, he noticed there was no space on the table, your body occupying most of it, and so he resolved he would just put it over your naked back. 
You gulped in surprise and your body seemed to get hotter, you surely weren’t expected to be used this way; your nipples brushed against the surface of the table, and Reid noticed how you pushed back against him slightly. 
The doctor pulled away, satisfied for the time being with the friction that he had gotten, and realized there were a couple of white-ish stains. 
“Come on, Morgan!” he exclaimed once he noticed it was semen “Can’t you clean up after yourself?” 
Derek could only break into a laugh, and you noticed a small smirk on Aaron’s face as well. 
“Sorry, kid.” he simply said, waiting for Hotch to open his second card. 
Reid made an unamused expression and crouched down to observe the situation. You still had some drip down your thigh, and your slit still had some traces of Morgan’s release. 
“I’ll help you out, but I need you to do something for me.” he said, palming at your ass to let you know he was talking to you; you hummed, replying that you were listening intently “I won’t be able to use my mouth, so if I suck, it means hit, if I insert, it means stay” 
You furrowed your brows with confusion, but he didn’t give you much time to understand. You felt his tongue trail up your inner thigh, taking the liquid that had spilled over it with it, and shortly the muscle pressed against your slit, taking a lap at your entire sex.
Your hands gripped at the side edges of the square table, on your right side Derek Morgan was looking intently at his cards, on your left Aaron Hotchner was paying close attention to the youngest’s movements. He snapped back to the game once your pleased noises started flowing, his hand darting out to land on top of yours and rub at the back of it slightly. Aaron dealt the second round of cards and Reid’s landed on your back once again. 
“14.” the older man said. 
A little distracted by the way his tongue teased your labia, you didn’t pay attention to the words the dealer had said until you felt Spencer’s lips wrap around your clit and intensely suck the air in. The sensation, which was foreign, made your legs go weak; the man pressed his face against your rear to keep you up, and it only made the interaction so much hotter. 
“Hit me!” you exclaimed in between moans. 
“8. Adds to 22.” Hotch said calmly. 
Reid grumbled against your cunt, his tongue going back to your entrance instead, superficially licking, taking his time to taste everything around it. 
Morgan was busted as well, which meant the house took the round. Spencer kept a steady and slow pace; you felt the cards being removed from your back and, almost immediately, a new one was added. 
“20.” Hotch said again. 
The youngster’s hands had been placed against the outer sides of your thighs in the meantime, however once he heard the number they traveled up. He pulled away and you slightly whined at the lack of contact, his thumbs spread the outer part of your pussy open and his tongue immediately slipped inside your entrance. 
“Stay.” you struggled to let out, only coming out as a shaky breath. 
Hotch opened a couple more cards, Derek was busted again, so there was a chance for Reid’s win. 
“21 for the house, house wins.” Aaron exclaimed. 
Your head defeatedly laid against the wooden table, the man buried in your rear could feel your walls clenching and your hips slightly moving to grind against yours. Your shaky breaths didn’t only alert him that your second orgasm of the night was coming, the other two men could also tell. 
“Reid, your time with her is almost up.” Aaron pointed out after taking a look at his watch. 
Spencer pulled away once again, to your discomfort, and narrowed his eyes pretending to think.
“I’ll tell you what, win this round and I’ll let you orgasm.” Reid proposed to you. 
You trembled a little with anticipation, feeling your orgasm edging on. Instead of allowing his tongue back on you, he simply pressed open-mouthed kisses to your labia, making sure he wouldn’t touch any sensitive areas. 
Aaron dealt another round of cards over your back, not even paying attention to your begging face. 
“16.” he notified you since your eyes were tightly shut with irritation from being so close yet unable to release. 
“Hit me.” you commanded, still feeling Reid’s wet lips kissing your sides. 
“3. Adds to 19.” He clarified as he threw another card against your back. 
“Hit me.” you said once again.
Aaron and Spencer exchanged looks, it was a very risky move, statistically heavily improbable.
Hotch opened the new card against your back, and he let out a pleased chuckle. “2. Adds to twenty one.” 
Reid laughed with incredulity, but he was a man of his word. His lips clasped your sensitive nub once again, and he sucked the air in as his tongue moved rapidly from side to side. A high-pitched moan at his movements, and you couldn’t help but to release your juices over his face. You could hear an erotic slurping sound from the back, he was abiding by his promise of keeping you clean. 
“Well played!” he beamed at you and cleared the cards from your back “That was a very unlikely pull, I’m surprised you made it.” 
“Certainly.” Hotch reassured as he dealt the next round of cards.
Reid had sat back down on his chair, and as the pieces of carton landed on you, you decided to stay put on the table. Spencer’s eyes would travel from his cards to your ass from time to time, almost as if he was pondering his next move after he won. 
However, he wouldn’t be as lucky, and neither would Derek, since the next round was won by the house, which meant Hotch was back in control. You were about to stand back up and his hand laid on your bare back, stopping your movement,
“Actually, honey, why don’t you remain there for a little bit more?” he commanded and you obediently remained “Reid, move.” he said standing up.
The younger furrowed his brows with unintentional defiance “But this is my seat…” he quietly complained. 
“You can have your seat back once I’m done with her.” Hotch said, his tone was as imposing, but you could tell he was a little more gentle. You didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, but you had figured Spencer was a soft spot for him. 
He finally obeyed and stood up and away from the chair, leaving enough space for Hotch to stand behind you. You could immediately feel the tip of his member prodding at your entrance, after what Reid had done to you, you certainly didn’t need any more preparation. You were overstimulated as it was, but his cock was always welcome, and he could tell by the way you were clenching around nothing simply by having him so close. 
He smirked to himself at the feeling and immediately allowed himself inside of you. You grunted with pleasure as you felt him enter, your fingers, tired from gripping on the sides of the table, beginning to curl around in the air. 
“Here, you can grab onto this.” the ever so chivalrous Derek Morgan reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving you a soft area for you to squeeze trying to not lose control. 
Mr. Hotchner wasn’t going to pretend being gentle, his thrusts picking up speed as soon as you had gotten used to his size. He moved his shirt slightly aside, enjoying every second of watching himself disappear between your contracting walls. He let out a soft groan in pleasure, and you could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. His hand gripped at your buttock, squeezing roughly to help him move your hips back and forth. 
The other two participants didn’t seem to move a finger, they could only stare, with pleased expressions on their face, at the way tears began to prickle on the corner of your eyes. Reid reached to land a hand on top of your head soothingly, and his kindness was always appreciated. 
Your obnoxious sounds were a delight to the three of them, therefore they dreaded the tune of a ringing phone interrupting the melody they adored. Hotch reached for the gadget within his pocket, furrowing his brows at the caller ID. 
“Yeah, JJ?” he said and made a ‘shushing’ sign to Spencer and Derek. 
Reid gently moved his hand from your head to your mouth, initially he was simply going to cover it with his palm, but an impulsive thought beat him to it: his index and middle finger slipped inside your mouth and pressed against your tongue. 
“Suck.” he ordered in a whisper “It will help you keep quiet.” 
You obeyed the doctor’s order, however, focusing on coating his digits in your saliva; your sounds were kept muffled in your throat, but they escaped your lips from time to time, since Aaron was not giving you a second of rest. 
“Can’t it wait? I see. It’s fine, Reid and Morgan are with me, call Dave, we’ll meet you there in 15.” Hotch continued instructing. He was doing his best to appear unbothered, and he was purposely hitting deeper each time, almost making it a challenge for you to keep your sounds down. 
“A case?” Morgan inquired as soon as his superior got off the phone. 
“And urgent.” he put the device away once again and leaned slightly over you. His fingers glued themselves to your clit, circling it slowly, he was trying to, most likely, rush your orgasm. The pleasure it brought to you was a little painful, being that it had been the part of your body that had received the most attention during the night. You whined at the sensation, and Reid had to slide his fingers further back to keep you from screaming. 
“You know, Hotch, there’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.” Spencer suddenly emitted, and Aaron looked curiously in his direction, prompting him to inquire “Are you really paying her?” 
The question caused Hotch to chuckle slightly “No, it’s more like an arrangement.” he confessed, still focused on pounding your cunt. 
“Then what does she get out of it?” his eyes narrowed as he observed you, fucked out of your mind, swallow your cheeks around his fingers. 
“She gets to come,” he clarified “as many times as she can take.” 
As he spoke, his hand raised to land a loud, yet not utterly strong, slap on your ass; he did that sometimes when he allowed you to release. His hips snapped one final time, pressing all the way in to spill his cum inside of you. Your third orgasm of the night was divine, your teeth slightly gritting against Reid’s skin. 
You laid there, absolutely exhausted, for a couple of minutes as they gathered their things and fixed up their clothes. Once you had recovered your energy enough to stand up, you felt your knees betraying you almost immediately. Morgan bolted from his nearby spot to offer his body as support, his arm surrounding your middle. 
“You alright?” he asked with concern and you nodded. 
“Here.” Spencer came closer with a wet wipe that he handed to you. 
“I’m sorry we can’t see you off, but this is urgent.” Hotch came out of a random room with a briefcase on his hand and his pristine suit already on “Rest as much as you want and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just make sure to lock the door when you leave.” 
Without saying any further he leaned closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He muttered a ‘let’s go’ directed to his subordinates and almost dashed outside the apartment. Morgan simply took a quick peck at the side of your head and told you to ‘take care’. Spencer stood there awkwardly for a second; you could see in his eyes that he was trying to do something, anything, but he couldn’t find the right gesture. Unable to take it much longer, you curled your hand into a fist and offered it in his direction. He bumped it with a fist of his own, and both of you laughed with a bit of embarrassment.
“Listen,” you said before he could move away, slightly entranced by his hazel eyes “the arrangement I have with Mr. Hotchner…” you diverted your gaze, suddenly slightly embarrassed “...it’s not exclusive.” you finally said. 
Spencer’s eyes opened and eyebrows raised in surprise, were you insinuating what he thought you were? His mouth opened and closed in search for an answer, but he struggled to make sense of anything, too scared to diffuse the interest you had shown in him. 
“You don’t have to agree right now,” you reached behind you, to the side table that had the landline phone on it, to grab a pad and a pen and immediately wrote down your number “if you want to explore a contract of your own, give me a call.” you said with a smile handing the paper over to him. 
“I will!” he said with almost too much excitement. 
“Reid!” Morgan yelled from the corridor. 
Spencer let out a quick curse and wrinkled his face with frustration “I’ll call you.” he said before he left in a rush. 
You giggled a little with teenage-like excitement, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced since you first started your dynamic with Mr. Hotchner. New guy, new conditions, new games. Perhaps poker is not the only way to have fun. 
3K notes · View notes
jinnie-ret · 6 months
Text
cigarette duet
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poly!stray kids x ninth member!reader
genre: angst, fluff at the end
content warnings: smoking, mentions of rehab, mentions of recovery
word count: 3k
summary: you get hounded by your boyfriends after they catch you smoking. how will they react when you disappear and go off the radar?
requested: @ihrtlix
It has been a while since I've written! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to the requests for this event but I'm getting back into the swing of things! Hope you enjoy! Please don't take offense to any opinions presented in this imagine. Enjoy! And if you want to be tagged in anything I write please lemme know! <3
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Perhaps you had smoked one too many cigarettes last night. Waking up the next morning after battling your stresses with the addictive feed of nicotine, your throat felt dry, hoarse, scratchy even.
"Baby, are you sure you're not sick?" Felix fussed, placing his hand delicately on your forehead to gain an idea of your temperature. "I mean, you don't feel hot, but maybe you're coming down with something?"
"I'm fine, love, just need some water," you kiss his hand that was pulling away from your face, offering a reassuring smile after clearing your throat.
And in your mind, that was enough. You didn't notice the little things that your boyfriends did however.
"Binnie, what are you doing? You look like a perv haha," Hyunjin giggled at the sight of Changbin rummaging through the laundry basket and sniffing your hoodie.
"Ssshhh, keep it down. And plus, it's not being pervy, people in relationships do it all the time. It's comforting smelling each other's clothing," Changbin righteously pointed out to his boyfriend, puffing his chest before adding, "well, normally it is..." he sighed.
"Woah that's mean, you can't say our girlfriend smells," Hyunjin pushed Changbin's shoulder, laughing again but with wide eyes this time round.
"No, no, you've got the wrong idea anyways. I think... I think Y/N's been smoking. I can smell it on her hoodie," Changbin sighed, tossing the white hoodie of yours back into the washing basket that was full to the brim. He was about to continue his spiel of conspiracies until he jumped when your arms wrapped around behind him.
"Aw, babe, are you doing the washing? Thank god for that, I was worried it would never get done," you squeezed him tightly once more before kissing him on the cheek and continuing your venture into the kitchen, Felix trailing behind you.
"I think she's getting sick, I'm gonna see if we have any meds in the cupboard, or some throat sweets at least," Felix pouted as he walked past his two boyfriends, Hyunjin ruffling his hair on the way.
Changbin threw a meaningful look at Hyunjin, alarms going off in his head because it only added more fuel to the blazing fire of thoughts in his head.
"Look, we don't know that she is smoking for sure. Maybe she's just been around some friends that are?" Hyunjin whispers hurriedly, yet this caught Seungmin's attention, and his ears too.
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Seungmin casually stood between the two, grabbing laundry detergent and capsules from the cupboard to act natural yet because practical at the same time.
"I'll explain later, to all of you. I'm just a bit concerned," Changbin sighed, rubbing his hand across his face before actually making a start on the chore at hand.
It was an escape for you, much like it was for other people who smoked cigarettes. And plus, you hadn't been doing it for long. You thought what could the harm be when you didn't do it a lot? Plus, it was handy that none of your boyfriends batted an eyelid in the studio when you said you wanted to go outside for some air. In fact, it gave the opportunity for Changbin to lay out his thoughts to the rest of your boyfriends who hadn't yet heard his observations.
"Y/N... I don't think she'd do that, I can't picture it," Jeongin shook his head, shaking his hands in confusion because the picture being painted in front of them seemed very unlikely and it wasn't a nice one to think of.
"And she knows it's too risky. First of all we're idols. I hate to say it but we have to think about that first in situations like these. Even when we're drinking we've got to be careful. If you're right about this, Binnie, then..." Chan groaned, leaning back into his seat with a huff.
"But she did just go out 'for some air'," Han added on, brows furrowed as he thought what Changbin was saying was quite plausible.
"Ok. We'll go check then," Minho shrugged as he stood.
"What?" Felix too stood up.
"We can't sit here and keep worrying. Let's go check and see for ourselves. If we're wrong... And I hope we are... Then it's fine," Minho grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, scanning around the room for his boyfriends' reactions.
"And if we're not wrong, then what?" Hyunjin voiced his concerns.
"Let's just hope we're not," Chan was first to walk out the door, the rest of Stray Kids following along after him like ducklings and their mother. Apart from this time it wasn't the cute, adorable scene you'd hope for, especially because they could smell the smoke and see your lax figure as soon as they rounded the corner to the back of the building.
"No. Y/N you've got to be kidding me!" Chan snatched the cigarette out of your hand and immediately stomped it out.
"Chan I-" you fumbled on your words, eyes wide as you had all eight of your lovers stood in front of you. And the way they looked at you made you stomach twist into knots you were sure you'd never felt.
Disappointment. Anger. Concern. Indifference.
"Let's talk about this inside," Changbin wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he spoke quietly to you.
Your heart was racing faster. They were going to think the worst. But you had a way out of this. It wasn't even that bad. Sure, over the past month maybe you'd have been spending more money on packs of cigarettes, yet on the inside you felt as if there were worse things you could be doing to yourself.
"Sit," Minho bluntly said, face unreadable, tone void of emotion.
And so you did.
"We'll just have a conversation about this, nice and calm, ok?" Felix nudged Chan in particular with his leg.
It seemed however that it wasn't a conversation, but more of an intervention. A heated one, at that.
"I can't be nice and calm, Lix! Our girlfriend is destroying her body, and for what?" Chan's voice rose ever so slightly, hands squeezing the arms of the chair he was tensely sat in.
"It's just a cigarette," you feebly replied. That backbone of yours was slowly wearing away the more and more anger you felt radiating off of your partners.
"Don't be ridiculous," Seungmin scoffed, "think of the damage it's doing. Think about your career."
"It's more than just the odd cigarette, right?" Changbin prodded, wanting answers to the millions of questions he had. After all, he was the first one to notice how you gradually stopped voicing your concerns to him but still sometimes had the habits that showed your anxiety.
"Well, yes, but-" you began but were cut off.
"No buts. That's... It's, you're hurting yourself, hurting your lungs. Why are you doing this, baby?" Jeongin took your hand in his, concern not the only thing glistening in his eyes, which broke your heart.
"It's just a nice distraction, that's all. It won't go on forever, I'll just stop when I want to," you shrug your shoulders, squeezing his hand to show you meant what you said.
"It's not that easy. Nicotine. It's addictive. You think you can just stop like that?" Hyunjin frowned, shaking his head.
"I know I can," you firmly said, urging them with your voice to trust you.
"I don't know what planet you're living on," Chan shook his head.
"Channie..." Felix bit his lip, feeling torn. On one hand he didn't want your boyfriend to be so tough with you, but he also disagreed with the choices you made, the ones you were making.
"No I'm sorry but Y/N, babe, you've made one of the stupidest choices you could make! Seungminnie is right, Jeongin too. It's damaging for your body, let alone your career. You keep this up, you're not going to be able to sing as well as before. And then it'll get to the point where you can't breathe as well anymore," Chan ranted, fiddling with the bracelets adorning his wrist as he didn't take his eyes away from yours, not once.
"I just told you it's not going to go that far!" your face contorted to one of disbelief.
"That's out of your control," Minho sternly redirected your attention to him.
"Wow. It's like you don't even trust me. I'm not some kid. I can make my own decisions. So what if I'm doing this for a little bit of stress relief? For a bit of fun. It helps me," your voice almost turns to pleading, wanting them to hear you out, hear your reasoning.
"It hurts you, baby. And when it hurts you, it hurts us as well," Han bit his lip after shakily speaking up. He didn't like this situation, not one bit.
"I'm not doing it to hurt you. I'd never do that," your voice wobbled, throat feeling as if it was closing up from the sob that was lodged down there.
"Too late. I mean just look," Chan emptied your handbag, empty packets of cigarettes and some not, falling out onto the floor of the studio.
"Y/N, that's a lot," Hyunjin gasped, clutching a hand on his chest.
"It's not. It's not that bad..." you denied as you knelt on the floor and tidied up the mess.
"You're in complete denial," Seungmin rolled his eyes.
"I'm not! I'm well aware of my actions thank you very much!" you shouted suddenly, causing everyone to freeze at the volume you had just reached.
The guilt set in. It was never meant to go this far. It was just meant to be for stress relief. Something to distract you from the aches and pains, physical and mental. It wasn't long until you'd be performing a special fanmeeting and relearning old choreographies and a cover had you feeling like you were being worked down to the bone. Even iconic dances like God's Menu were hard to remember, and you felt like you had no chance. No choice. It was like it fell into your lap so easily.
The first time you had stood outside to catch some air, it was for that genuine reason. And you weren't alone. You didn't know if the person worked at your company, if you knew them, whatever. But their hand offering you something that could bring you temporary bliss was a solution you were grateful for. Only now, you were seeing that it was short term.
"You need help. Seriously..." Chan spat, grabbing his backpack and storming out of the studio.
"Find a way to end this, Y/Nnie," Felix mumbled, stroking your hair gently before following Chan out with a rush.
"You're all just going to go?" your voice cracked. Were they leaving you now?
"We just need some time," Changbin sighed. And then he was gone too.
"You're leaving me?" you sniffled, standing up to face your boyfriends that were still in the room.
"Not like that, baby. We're just giving you time to think about how you can stop this, ok?" Han stroked your face as he made sure you knew this wasn't the end. And then he left too, Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin leaving too.
All alone. Perhaps it was what you deserved. You relied on the cigarettes more than your boyfriends. And they were all you had left for the moment. That was when it sank in. You had to make a change. You had to stop this habit form taking over your life, from pushing away the people you love most, and from taking your life away.
•••
"She's sorting herself out at least... that's got to be commendable."
"I guess so. Let's just hope it doesn't get out that a JYP idol is at rehab for smoking."
"It won't. And she's doing well from what I've heard..."
This was the only time Han was grateful for the staff gossiping. Immediately, he felt calmer. Considering the boys had spent the last few days blowing up your phone and worrying where you went, it was an oddly relieving feeling hearing you were at rehab. They had tried asking JYP himself, asking the manager of the company where you were but all they said was that you were safe.
"I know where she is!" Han bursted through the apartment door, slamming it shut behind him as he panted out of breath.
"Woah, woah, ok, deep breaths, let's sit down," Chan, with the darkest circles around his eyes yet, gently sat Han down on the sofa. He felt awful. He thought he had driven you away from them all. From the group. From the relationship. And that had been eating him up inside. It was a wonder he could act so calm with the news of you going into rehab.
"Rehab? For smoking? I didn't even know that was a thing," Seungmin hummed in thought, his arms crossed.
"I didn't either, but I overheard the staff. They say she's doing well. It's a good thing, right?" Han's eyes stared through the souls of everyone gathered in the lounge, begging for some sort of confirmation that things would get better.
"I mean, at least we're a bit more in the know then our own fans about why our girlfriend is on hiatus," Changbin brushed his fluffy, dark hair out of his eye.
"Can't we go and see her?" Felix wondered, lifting his head up from where it rested on Minho's shoulder.
"We shouldn't," Minho quietly sighed.
"Why not?" Jeongin quickly turned to him, mouth parted in shock that he didn't want to see Y/N.
"No, he's right. She's gone there for a reason. To get better. It's what we all said to her, isn't it? We'll see her soon. And when we do... It'll all be better," Chan helped everyone see sense. He was right. You had listened to them. You went and got help and were solving the problem. If they suddenly ambushed you and got in the way of that... You'd be back to square one.
•••
Today was the day, you were finally going back to the boys. You spent a good 3 weeks at rehab, and had been advised on some good coping mechanisms to take your mind off of smoking and how to create some healthier habits. You had shown good progress and it was deemed acceptable for you to leave and spend time back with your loved ones. And you couldn't lie, you were incredibly nervous. You had dropped a text without reading the spam that littered the groupchat, notifying your boyfriends what time you'd be returning, but after that you once again did not read anything else that was sent.
"Oh my baby, I've missed you so much," Han was the first one at the door, pressing kisses all over your face as he took you into his arms, holding you lightly.
"I've missed you too," you cried immediately, despite the weight off your shoulders.
"You're good now, right, darling?" Seungmin softly tugged you away from Han, both of his hands cupping your face whilst his thumbs wiped away your tears.
"I'm better," you nod through tears, Seungmin pressing a kiss to your head and giving space for your other boyfriends to soothe you and reunite with you. It had only been three weeks, yes, but 21 days had never felt so long.
"I'm proud of you, come here," Changbin scooped you into his arms and lifted you slightly, making you giggle before your feet touched the ground once more.
"Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't realise what I had done... How far it went, you know?" you began, looking down at the floor as Hyunjin came and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his long arms securing you to him.
"We're just happy to see you here, honey, healthier," he whispered into your ear soothingly.
"And please talk to us in future. We had time to think after that, moment, and we know you were doing it as an escape. But we're here for you," Jeongin pecked you on the lips, your heads pressed against each other for a moment before he too moved away.
"Always, we're always here," Felix reiterated what Jeongin preached, and kisses you as well, noses rubbing against each other as he moved away, a cute expression on his face.
"Come here," Minho opened his arms, and you reluctantly left Hyunjin's arms only to be happy again in the warmth of your other boyfriend's embrace.
"Thank you for waiting, all of you," you swayed with him in his hug, until you pulled away and it was only Chan left.
He stood a few metres away, back to you, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.
"Channie... babe," you sighed, tugging his hand to turn him and face you. His words had hurt you the most but it was also a huge wake up call. "Please, look at me, I'm not mad. I'm so grateful."
"I was too harsh with you," he bit his lip, hard, not wanting to let any tears escape.
"I needed it. Look at me now, I'm here, I'm better, and I've got habits I can stick to instead. Ones that won't hurt me. And they won't hurt you guys either," you looked up at him, one hand running through the hair at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his face.
"I'm so glad you're back... We were worried... Lost without you," Chan admitted, staring up at the ceiling before kissing you deeply, expressing all the emotions he had held back whilst you were gone.
"It's all good now. Plus, you should all be proud of me-"
"We are proud of you, baby," Jeongin cut you off stroking your hair.
"Well, be even prouder because I know how to bake an amazing carrot cake if I say so myself," you laughed, sharing a new skill that had occupied your stress and been taught whilst you were away.
"You can bake with me now! Oh my gosh! It's a miracle!" Felix cheered, tugging you into the kitchen as the other boys chuckled from behind you both.
"I didn't think you meant this very second!"
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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria
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alottiegoingon · 5 months
Text
golden rule
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lucy maclean x gn!reader
summary: you become lucy's only friend in wasteland.
warnings: weapon usage/mentions, brief blood mention, wasteland and life outside the vault, lucy is naive and oblivious at first and a hot mess later, mostly just fluff, golden retriever lucy & black cat reader type of shit, kinda enemies/strangers to secret in lover with each other, reader is hot i wanna date them but also a loser if you see through them, no nsfw, not proofread
"just give it a thought, alright? we could help each other."
"why would i want you for a company? no offense, princess, but i don't associate with vault dwellers." you take a look at her from head to toes, studying the details in her jumper. despite how cool her pistol looked attached to her belt like that, the yellow and blue choice was kind of goofy, you thought.
you can see the excitement in her eyes disappearing as she hears you and you almost felt sorry for her. almost. "okay, ouch." she tilts her head, crossing her arms. in a second, her dramatic act gave place to a smug smile. "oh, i know! what if i help you to find the head?"
even your own bitterness left your soul as you hear her. you pause for a moment, searching for any sign of unseriousness in her face. maybe it was just a bad joke? but then, she keeps staring at you with those huge eyes and a not so subtle smile, proud of what she had said.
"i'm sorry, a head? you mean someone's head?" you frown. "i don't know what you vault people think of us but i'm not a monster." you weren't really offended, but seeing the panic in her face was actually princeless.
"what? no, no! i was just- everyone wants that head and i thought you-" she starts to ramble, not wanting to offend you. her beam went away as fast as it reached her face. you almost felt bad for her twice in a row now.
you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and allowed a smirk to creep onto your lips. she immediately stopped talking and, even though she exhaled relief, you knew that deep down she wanted to kill you but was too kind for that.
"oh. you were messing with me. funny." she gives you a forced dry laugh. it was actually annoying how she tried to be so nice all the time.
as a response, you give her a nonchalant wry smile. "anyway. i'm not looking for a dog right now, so..." you sigh, reaching for the heavy backpack on the floor and sliding it onto your shoulders. "but good luck with the head or whatever it means." you wink at the stranger and turn around to leave.
"wait! please." she grabs your wrist before you could take the first step and in response, you turn around again impatiently, glancing down at her tight grip on your skin. it takes her a while to realize that she's still holding you but as soon as she does, she immediately looks at your wrist as well and let go of it. "sorry." she whispers.
you were ready to interrupt her but, curiously, you felt bad when seeing how insanely desperate she was. it wouldn't hurt to just hear what the had to say, right?
"i've been having a rough week, okay? everyone i've met tried to kill me, except for you. a weird..." she pauses, thinking "robot, or whatever, tried to harvest my organs out and i had to cut someone's head off. and i may not be the strongest or the most experienced person but i can learn!" she was truly putting on her best show while you stood in front of her completely unbothered. at least, you liked to think that you were a complete fearless and tough person. "just... please?"
against all odds, you didn't deny it immediately. and, if you didn't deny it immediately, you knew what it meant. fuck, when did you become such a softie? it could be, of course, the way her hair looked pretty even in a messy ponytail or how the cut on her lip made her look so incredibly ho-
"okay, fine. whatever." that idiot creepy huge smile of hers spread on her face again before you could even finish. "listen up, i'm not done." you roll your eyes. "we'll do things my way, get it? you speak when i speak, you shoot when i shoot, you walk when i walk." you take steps closer to her while you talk. firm, hoarse and assertive tone. you stop when you feel the tip of her nose almost touching yours, keeping the steady the eye contact intact. you were so busy initimidating her that you don't even notice when she hold her breath.
"you are my shadow." you reach up for her face, cupping her chin with your thumb and index finger, forcing her to look back at you. "you don't exist unless i tell you to. do you understand me?" you stated with a piercing gaze.
you thought it was impossible for her eyes to get any bigger but when you step out of your scary platform, you notice her terrified expression. "okey dokey..." she nods frantically.
you gotta admit it. she didn't seem as goofy as before while paying attention to you so devotedly like that. even when still wearing that ridiculous jumper.
eventually, you realize that your eyes were betraying you by staring at her for a little too long. you clean your throat, trying to cover that up. "good. let's go now. we can't stay here forever." you step back and start to walk away, not even waiting for her to join you.
you hear her hasty footsteps getting closer as she tries to catch up to you until she finally shares your pace. "i'm lucy, by the way. lucy maclean." she held her head high, corners of her mouth going up again. god, she smiled a lot.
"good for you. i'm still gonna call you princess, though."
"not to brag, cause that would be impolite of me, but i found a really cool place when i was looking for a river this morning." lucy's smiling from ear to ear and excitedly rocking from side to side is the first thing you see when you open your eyes after a tough night of sleep.
a week had passed since you met lucy. no matter how tough you considered yourself to be, lucy was persistent, charming, sweet and funny enough to make her way to your heart and you knew that you were doomed. deep down, you were suspicious that she knew that as well.
"why are you always so happy?" you groan, rubbing your eyes. unlike lucy, you were not a morning person. or a night person. or any time of the day person.
"good morning to you too, sunshine!"
you are forced to get up, not being actually opposed to it, and take a short sip from your last water bottle. maybe taking a look at lucy's oh so great place would be useful.
"okay then. let's do it, princess." you use your hands to brush the remains of sand and dust out of your pants but lucy's cute giggle prevents you from heading out of the shelter you had found.
lucy approaches you with her usual polite and sweet grin and you unconsciously flinch as she stops just a few inches from you and touch you. predictable, she was gentle while brushing the top of your hair with her fingers, fixing the bundle of messy strands that merged together while you were sleeping and added a funny volume to your head. you follow every move of her with darting eyes and an uncontrollable urge to admire her green eyes focused on your hair and reddish parted lips.
"there you go. pretty as always." lucy coos and before withdrawing herself, her fingers slid down by a few inches and casually tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. for the first time in ages, you froze.
thankfully, lucy didn't seem to notice how affected you were by her innocent act. "thanks." you whispered in a ridiculously soft grin and followed her out of the shelter.
"why do you have a gun if you don't like using it? that's stupid." you tease lucy while you two walked side by side, following the train track to the place she had mentioned.
"i do use it. just when i have no other option. you know, because of the golden rule." she shrugs, proudly, proceeding to explain it to you.
you really tried to not care or call it dumb, but instead, you snorted in amusement. "you are way too naive, you know that?"
a dilapidated house.
lucy's incredible and cool place was nothing but a whole junk. everything was falling apart and, judging by how empty it was, many others were there before you.
"it looked cool from the outside..." she explains herself while scratching the back of her neck.
you were strong. firm. scary and ruthless even. you would shove a knife on anybody's throat if they wasted your time like that, especially after a terrible night of sleep. but, again, it wasn't anybody. it was her.
so, funny or not, you laughed.
"god, you are such a terrible explorer." you take a quick peek at her with the corner of your eyes, wearing an idiotic and foolish smirk on your lips.
"i am not!" her jaw drops and her voice sounds whinier as she defends herself but giggle along with you, not feeling scared to be vulnerable and fully stare at you.
you didn't have to answer to that. all you did was look back and forth at her and the house, proving your point.
"okay, you got me there." she looks down, dramatically pouting and pretending to feel so insulted. "but at least i made you smile. looks good on you." lucy's lips twitch in a shy grin.
"maybe i should smile more, then. if you like it." you boldly murmur, surprised at yourself for saying that. you could swear that lucy's face got almost entirely red but you didn't have enough time to appreciate it or figure if it was real.
"look at those cute lovebirds. love has returned to wasteland, gentlemen." a tall, sturdy middle-aged man mocks you to two other creepy looking guys. one was even missing an eye. in two seconds, you were able to count how many weapons they had and your first thought was the possibility of lucy getting hurt.
you quickly stood in front of her, shielding her from any kind of possible danger.
everthing happened too fast after that. all you remember is denying their offer to take your backpacks with the remains of food and water you had and all of your weapons.
everything went black for a second as your body hit the ground. you slowly manage to get on your knees and look around but lucy isn't there and you are trapped. you feel a sharp pain as you breathe in and a drop of blood hits your pants. you shudder at the moment you cautiously feel your cheek, warm to the touch and stinging like you were poked by a thousand needles. your fingertips carefully drop to your mouth and you hiss as you touch the wide cut on your swollen lower lip.
you notice the crisp click of the gun's trigger being released and you look up, expecting to see the weapon pointed at your head. instead, you see the men with their hands above their heads.
"get away from them!" lucy's voice fills your ears and you turn your head back to find her with a huge weapon in hands pointed at the strangers. she takes a quick glance at you and you see the anger inside her overflow as she notices your wounds.
"i'm gonna count to three and i want your ugly, filthy and miserable roaches out of my face or... or i'll shoot!" judging by her tone, you can easily notice how nervous she is even though she's trying her best to actually stand up for you.
and the thought of being protected by someone made your heart flutter. you weren't bothered by the aching pain in your lip when you found yourself proudly smiling at her.
the big guy seemed to notice the tension in her voice and took a step closer to you. you could only imagine how badly he had regretted that as soon as a loud bang echoed through the entire house and his foot was hanging by a thread, quite too literally.
"oh, golly..." lucy mutters with widen eyes. you follow her shock with a gasp that was completely muffled by the loud and agonized screech.
"don't make me repeat myself! all of you out, now!" she yells, threatening them by aiming the gun at them once more. "if that's okay with you, please." the scary expression in her face swiftly changed to a well-mannered and soft grin.
the injured men is rushedly dragged out by the other two, not looking back and you can not believe that someone as adorable looking as lucy was the one to broke her dear rule and hurt people.
"thank you! t-take care." she waves at them innocently, still with the gun in hands before running to you.
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year
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another idea for dr crane but i'm afraid it might be too similar to thoughtless so please just ignore if it is!!: from personal experience, being a patient of his who is seeing him bc of sexual trauma. fear of penetration due to previous sexual assault. and ofc he's all about exposure therapy. and you wanna trust him so so bad bc he wants what's best for you, he's encouraging you ("you deserve to embrace your sexuality, you get past this one barrier and you're free"), but you start to fight back. and he takes personal offense bc he's your doctor, why don't you trust his expertise? but then it starts to feel good~
idk i picture reader trying with a toy in front of him but he gets impatient sees she's struggling with going that extra step further so he takes control either with the toy or himself.
warnings: not actually that dark (I mean, it is cause he's her therapist lol but he's not nonconning her) but still manipulation, slightly medical kink?, praise kink
(oops this turned out pretty long how did that happen? lmao)
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"Did you try what we discussed last week?" he asked, and you pressed your knees together as you looked down and shook your head. "Really? You seemed very positive about it before."
"I was," you admitted. "It seemed really easy-- just sort of training myself, you know. But then I got home and... I guess it was a little overwhelming."
"Hm," he said, and you started to feel guilty for disappointing him. "That's interesting-- it seems like you were more comfortable here than at home. I figured it would be the other way around."
"Yeah, that would make more sense, I guess," you shrugged, "but-- I dunno..."
"Do you want to try again?" he wondered.
"I do," you admitted, "but I'm nervous that I'll start panicking again..."
"Then why don't you try here?"
You tensed up at just the suggestion; "Wouldn't that be... I mean, isn't that...?"
"I'm a medical doctor," he reminded you with a chuckle, "I've seen much worse. This is simply part of your treatment. I want you to get better."
You took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay," you decided. "Okay, I can try it."
"Great," he smiled, uncrossing his legs and resetting his clipboard in his lap. "We agreed before that you'd be more comfortable with your fingers than silicone dilators, is that still--?"
"Yes," you interrupted, "definitely. Feels too... clinical, otherwise."
He nodded, and there was a brief silence.
"So, do I just... start?"
"I'd like you to try," he said gently.
You noticed that his gaze never broke away from you, but you looked down into your lap as you started to slowly spread your legs. "So I just.. reach under my dress?"
"That should be fine," he encouraged. "There's nothing to be afraid of-- this is a safe space."
You nodded in agreement, pulling up your dress enough to reach into your panties. Sighing, you tried not to let nerves get the better of you as you pushed your lips apart with your fingers. But still, the anxiety was bubbling up, and you pressed the tip of your finger to your hole only to feel resistance alongside your distress. "I-- I don't think I can--"
"It's alright," he soothed, "start with the outside first-- stimulate your clitoris."
You choked on a laugh, still too nervous to look at him. "You really are a medical doctor..."
"What, too formal?" he chuckled. "Alright... rub your clit."
That shocked you even more than the clinical language; but it made you pulse inside, too. "O-okay..."
You pressed your fingers against the bud, trying to rub it, but it didn't really feel like anything-- like rubbing your elbow or something. Jonathan corrected you right away: "Not so hard," he said, "start gently."
"Sorry," you breathed, shutting your eyes.
"No-- it's fine," he assured, "I just want to help."
He was right, though; when you lessened the pressure and gently rubbed in circles, it started to feel good-- slowly, but surely. When your next breath came out shaky, you heard him hum with satisfaction.
"Is that better?" he asked.
"Yes," you answered, but you didn't mean for it to be a moan.
"I think you're ready," he informed you-- and something about his voice, it was lower than before, it was different... it was making you wet.
"Ready... for what?" you whispered, daring to open your eyes and see the darkness in his expression as he watched you.
"Ready to fuck yourself with your fingers."
"Oh," you sighed, feeling like you'd been punched in the gut-- in the best possible way. "Okay..."
"Just one to start," he encouraged, "put a finger inside yourself, nice and slow."
You sighed as you pressed the finger up to your hole again, smiling as you realized it was more open-- and wet-- than before. You gently pressed in further, finding some pressure but pushing through it until you were knuckle deep in yourself. You smiled happily; "I did it," you breathed, "oh my god, I-- I never thought I'd--"
"Don't stop," he cooed, "move it back and forth. If you do well enough, you can add a second finger."
You figured he meant it that you would be able to add a second finger, but it almost sounded like a bargain, like a reward. Do what I say and I'll let you add a second, or something. Surely that wasn't what he meant.
"A little faster," he encouraged as you pumped the finger. "That's it, very good."
You whimpered, biting down on your lip to hide your moan. You wanted him to say that again, to tell you that you were doing this correctly.
"Add the second now," he instructed, his own voice suddenly sounding a little hoarse and needy. "Stretch yourself out-- and tell me how it feels."
"It feels good," you panted as you started to add your second finger, whining at the stretch. "Fuck, I-- will they both fit?"
He chuckled a little-- a low, rough sound-- and promised you: "Yes, they'll fit. You can take a lot more than two fingers, with some patience."
You hadn't even imagined being able to do more than this-- for years, you hadn't been able to put anything inside you, and now here you were... fingering yourself in front of your therapist. "How much more?" you wondered, hardly imagining how it could be possible.
There was a long, long pause; you worried he hadn't heard you. Looking at him again, you found him watching with a tight jaw.
"How much more can I take, Dr. Crane?" you asked again.
"You can take anything I give you," he answered tensely.
A shiver ran up your spine; "F-fuck," you whimpered, and your walls pulsed around your fingers.
"You're going to come, aren't you?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Good."
You gasped.
"Very good," he egged you on, seeing the effect it had on you; your head tilted back as you pushed your fingers into yourself faster. "You're doing very well for me-- now I just need to see you come. I just need you to make yourself come."
"Yes, yes," you chanted, hips rocking, moans growing louder. "It feels good-- fuck, Doctor, I--"
"I know," he soothed, "just let it happen. Keep going. Come for me."
It hit you all at once, a heavy and numbing feeling that left you shaking on his couch; he purred out his praises, telling you how good you were doing, and it only made the feeling stronger.
When you exhausted yourself, you stilled; there was a moment of silence, just your panting filling the air, until you found the strength to meet his gaze again. He was smiling at you sweetly, looking oddly similar to how he always did at the end of a session. "That was incredible progress," he said proudly. "You should be very impressed with yourself."
You sighed as you nervously pulled your fingers out of yourself. "I-- do you have a tissue I can wipe these with?" you asked nervously.
"No need," he said, "you should taste it."
"Wh-what?" you choked out, your face even warmer than before.
"Just taste it-- I think you'll like it," he encouraged.
Though you hesitated for a second, you brought your wet fingers to your lips and gently licked off some of the sticky substance left behind.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"It's sort of strange," you admitted.
"It's an acquired taste," he shrugged, making your heart pound as you realized just from the look in his eyes that this was absolutely a taste he'd acquired... then again, there must have been a reason that he knew even better than you how to touch yourself and make you come.
Then, it was impossible not to imagine what he's like when he does this off the clock-- the way he touches and pleasures the women he takes to bed. You imagined him with his fingers inside lace panties, whispering in her ear about how good she was being for him; you imagined him pushing two inside and promising to give her more; you imagined him making her come, over and over, until he's satisfied and brings those soaked fingers to his lips and calling her delicious.
And even though you tried not to picture who that woman would be, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd like a woman like you... if you were the type he'd do that to, if you weren't his patient.
"Thank you," you blurted out. "I never thought I'd be able to... thank you. It's been a long time since I was able to feel that."
He nodded. "Thank you for trusting me," he replied. Glancing at the clock, he sighed a little through a polite smile: "Oh, look at that, we're out of time for today. This has been a really excellent session."
"Yeah," you agreed as you both stood up, "definitely."
"And next week, we can discuss the next steps in your recovery."
You raised your eyebrows when you heard that, already almost halfway out of the office. "Next steps?" you noticed.
"Yes," he agreed, "you made great progress, but there's still so much more for you to learn."
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Hi! Can you do something where the villain captured the hero and hurts them to prevent them from escaping? Where the villain is kinda taunting towards the hero after they have injured them, knowing they're the one in control of the hero?
I think there was a similar one to this you posted wayyy earlier but i was just wondering if you could make another one in the same type of style?
(It's dark, just to warn you. Tread carefully.)
"You don't have to do this."
"You didn't have to run," the villain replied. "But we all have our callings, don't we?" Their voice was not unsympathetic. Their eyes were eager. If a stare was capable of taking a bite out of a person, then the villain's would.
Pain throbbed through the hero's ankle where they'd fallen. They weren't remotely convinced it would take their leg if they tried to stand. They edged back another uneasy inch on the floor, nausea clawing up their throat.
"I won't do it again. You've already proven it's useless, that there's no way out of here. Just-"
"-Don't say please, you'll excite me, and then I'll have to hurt you more. It would be regrettable."
The hero's mouth snapped shut.
The villain sighed and crouched down in front of them. They patted the hero's broken ankle, oh so consolingly, forcing the hero to bite back a whimper.
"I was dumb," the hero whispered.
"Oh, yes."
"I've learned my lesson."
"What's the lesson?"
"You're in charge. I - I won't try to run. I'll - I can be good."
"Of course you can, love," the villain said. "We all have a capacity of goodness inside us. Will you be, though?"
"Yes. Oh my god, yes. So you don't have to - I mean, we can both resist our callings, right?" The hero wet their dry, cracked lips. "You don't want to hurt me, yeah? It's - it's regrettable."
"But what if you get dumb again?" the villain asked. "I think it would help you to have a reminder. It's good to reinforce lessons, you know?"
"My ankle-"
"-An excellent reminder not to trip and to watch where you're going. Nothing to do with me."
"Please."
There was a moment of absolute silence.
The hero's heart dropped, with the horrible realisation of what had just left their lips, at the look on the villain's face.
Before, the villain's stare was a bit like taking a bite, sure. In the same way that a shark might take a bite out of an unsuspecting tourist - a little nibble merely to check what they were dealing with. Instinct. Habit. No particular malicious force behind it.
Now...
"I'm sorry," the hero said. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"You're making it so much worse. Stop."
The hero squeezed their eyes shut. That time, the whimper slid free.
The villain leaned in, cupping their chin, pressing a soothing kiss to their forehead.
"It's for the best, pet. Then we won't have to do this again."
"What are you going to do?"
"It's not what I'm going to do," the villain said. "It's what you're going to do."
"Stay put?"
The villain smiled. They gestured to one of their goons, who scurried forward to hand the villain a hammer.
The hero flinched. They braced themselves, already able to imagine the crack of bone, the-
The villain curled the hero's fingers tenderly around the handle.
"Break your leg, dear. We both know I won't be able to stop with just the one if I get started, hm?"
The hero stared at them.
The villain stared back, implacable.
"What?" the hero whispered.
"Well, if it was me, I'd start with the leg so you don't run. But you're stubborn, aren't you? So then I'd have to start wandering about your eyes. Much harder to run without any eyes! Though of course there are still options-"
"-Which leg?"
"Dealers choice!"
The hero tightened their grip on the hammer, hand shaking. They considered their legs. Where might hurt least.
"Ankle okay?"
"For a first offense. I can be kind."
"Okay," the hero said. They exhaled a breath. "Okay."
"Want me to count you in? One, two - oh." The villain whistled as the hero brought the hammer down. Their ears rang with pain. The world tilted. Everything felt too hot, too icy cold. They could vaguely hear the villain still talking, steadying their hand, stroking their abruptly clammy hair from their face. "Nice. Efficient. Now one more time because you said please."
Please. God, please.
But there was no god, only the villain.
The hero brought the hammer down.
It was a relief to wake up, alone, in their cell.
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heavyhitterheaux · 4 months
Text
Notice Me
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AN: We're going to pretend that Latto was the headliner on day one because SZA is the face claim lol
Synopsis: While at Gazebo Fest with your best friend, you happen to meet Jack, and the two of you quickly take to each other. Once you part ways, you are heavy on Jack’s mind, and he's determined to see you again
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
“Why is it so got damn hot out here?!” Your best friend Kayla asked as she was digging through her clear backpack to find something to fan herself with.
“You do realize that it's the end of May and almost June, right?” You replied as you laughed at her and took a sip of water.
The two of you were in the VIP section of Gazebo Fest and couldn't wait to see all the different performances throughout the entire weekend, but you were most excited to see your celebrity crush for as long as you could remember, Jack Harlow.
You had gotten there two days before so that it could give you some time to explore Louisville before having to go to the festival. You and Kayla had gone to Churchill Downs, Morris Deli, and to see his Hometown Hero banner. Before the two of you went home, the goal was to hit up Barrels and Billets to make your own bourbon to take back home with you.
Glancing at the time, you quickly opened the Gazebo Fest app on your phone to see who would be performing next and got excited when you saw that it was Paris Texas. As you were sliding your phone in your back pocket, Kayla started hitting your arm repeatedly.
“Ow! What is your problem?!” You exclaimed while turning to look at her.
“I spy a mullet and that can only mean that it belongs to your man. Look to your left. Okay slowly turn and look. I see Clay too!”
Doing as you were told, you quickly saw him and you felt your heart skip a beat. Kayla liked Jack and his music, but she was more so here for Vince Staples as well as the younger Harlow.
“Maybe you'll get a marriage proposal before we leave on Monday.”
“Kayla, as much as I would like that… shut up.”
“Hey, stranger things have happened.” She replied while holding her hands up in defense.
Once Paris Texas set was over, the crowd dispersed and only a few of you were left at the barricade talking and mingling amongst each other when Kayla leaned over and whispered in your ear.
“I need to pee.”
“What the? Why are you whispering? Is that supposed to be a secret?”
“I don't want to go by myself and the girl next to me told me that she would save our spots.”
“Come on then.” You said as you went and grabbed her hand.
The two of you started walking to the VIP bathrooms when your breath hitched in your throat as you saw Jack was sitting in the driver's seat of a golf cart surrounded by people on his team.
“Sike! I don't have to pee, but go over to your man! He's looking at you and smiling!”
“Kayla…” You said through gritted teeth since you knew that she knew how shy you were. 
All she did was slightly push you forward as Jack waved you over to come to him.
“Hey pretty girl, enjoying yourself so far?” Jack asked you as you had finally worked up the nerve to approach him. Your heart was racing a mile a minute.
“So far, I have no complaints so my answer is yes.” You responded while smiling.
Your only goal was not to look absolutely crazy in front of him. But you were going to kill Kayla later. 
“Is it your first time here in Louisville?”
“No, I've been here before, but this is the first time that I actually got to explore the city. I was here for every NPLH you had.”
“Where are you from?”
“The DMV. Maryland specifically.”
“The D stands for Delaware right?” Jack curiously asked, but you immediately shook your head no.
“Do me a favor. When you go there again, do not let anyone hear you say that. It stands for D.C. Now Delmarva is Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia.” You answered while trying not to laugh.
“Then it's a good thing that I asked you, huh?”
“Yes, because somebody would have taken offense to that, believe it or not.”
“What song do you want to hear me do tomorrow?”
“I… How am I supposed to do just one?!”
“Fine. Give me your top five.”
“I need you to do every song you've ever recorded, but five does give me a little more wiggle room. Hmm, Heavy Hitter, Ghost, Sundown, Eastern Parkway, Dark Knight, and I NEED Smells Like Incense because you've never done that one live.”
“Oh, I got a day one in my presence. And that was six songs by the way.” He replied while giving you a boyish grin.
Jack was captivated the first time he laid his eyes on you earlier that afternoon from behind the Gazebo stage as he saw you and Kayla at barricade. 
“I told you that it was hard for me to choose. You're lucky I didn't say Power Tools.”
“Damn, not you going back to The Handsome Harlow.”
“Have to admit it's one of my favorites.” You replied as you shrugged.
“I don't want to keep you from your friend all day, but I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
Hearing him say that made you feel as though you were going to burst from having so many butterflies.
“You won't have to look far either. I'll be barricade.”
The rest of the day you and Kayla made the most of it watching all of the performances, getting drinks, and taking pics with Urban as well as other members of Private Garden.
The next morning, both of you woke up when your alarm went off at 8 ready for the day ahead. Both of you started off with mimosas and quickly moved to taking a few shots before it was ultimately time to get ready.
What stopped you in your tracks was a notification on your Gazebo app saying that because of the weather, the doors wouldn't be opening at 1 and to stay close to your phone to keep up with the alerts.
“You can't be fucking serious. We need to get barricade!” You said as you ran to the window to look outside at the weather. For right now, the sky was simply cloudy and gloomy. Not a raindrop in sight.
“What's wrong?” Kayla asked as she opened a bag of doritos and began stuffing them in her mouth.
“The opening of the gates are delayed.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.
“Until when!?”
“I'm not sure, it didn't say. I guess they'll send out another update so we can know.”
Kayla then grabbed her phone to pull up the weather app and simply shook her head.
“Babe, I don't know. I think we just might be under a tornado warning.”
“A WHAT!? NO! WHY TODAY? CAN IT WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW?” You exclaimed while running back towards the window.
“Apparently not.”
“Let's just pray that they don't cancel it. I know you have a date with your baby daddy later. I saw mine yesterday.” 
“He is literally the entire reason I came this weekend and now that might be ruined.”
“Let's just try and stay positive. We don't even have a concrete answer yet. Things could always change. But let's get our outfits together so we can be ready.”
It was now around 4 PM on Sunday and Jack was stressed. He had put so much time and effort as well as money into this and all he wanted to do was bring a music festival back to his city while having some of his favorite artists perform. He was trying not to sulk, but it was looking more and more like day 2 of Gazebo Fest wasn't about to happen.
“At least we had a good first day. You can't be mad at yourself for that.” Urban said as he sat down next to him.
“I know. I just don't want to compromise anyone's safety. People are going to be pissed.”
“They'll be pissed but they'll be alive.” He heard Clay say as he walked into the room.
“Then I need to call it.”
After he posted to his Instagram story the sad news of it being canceled, his thoughts immediately went to you.
“SHIT!”
“What? What's wrong?” Both Clay and Urban asked as they looked at him.
“The girl I was talking to yesterday.”
“You talked to a lot of girls yesterday?” Clay responded, confused as to what he was getting at.
“Not as long as I did her! The one with the curly hair!”
“Oh in VIP?”
“Yeah, and I totally forgot to ask her what her name was. Fuck.”
“Yall got a date or something we don't know about?”
“I was going to ask her when I saw her today, but now that's damn near impossible.”
Now not only was day two not happening, but he wasn’t about to see you either, until an idea came to him.
“Do you two remember what she looks like?” He asked both Urban and Clay as they nodded their heads.
“Okay, this might be a long shot, but maybe we can find her on instagram?”
“What the? How the HELL are we supposed to do that?” Clay asked, looking at his older brother in disbelief.
“The gazebo tag.” Urban answered for him and Jack simply nodded.
“Let’s get to it then.”
The three of them had been searching for a total of two hours when Urban had finally found you. He took a quick screenshot of the picture that was posted on Kayla’s page and cropped it before handing his phone to Jack.
“Found her!” 
“Let me see!”
As Urban was handing Jack his phone, it slipped out of his grasp onto the carpet below and Jack quickly dove for it, but it was too late. The screen had hit the home button on the app and everything had refreshed.
“You cannot be fucking serious! It refreshed your feed!”
“Wait, I got a screenshot!”
Urban quickly took his phone back and pulled it up in his gallery to show him as Clay was now looking over both of their shoulders to see what was happening.
“But you cropped it! It doesn’t have the username anymore!” Jack said before sighing and defeat was quickly washing over him.
“Hold on, now I have an idea.” Clay said while smirking.
Jack eyed him and motioned for him to continue.
“Post the screenshot and ask your followers on instagram to find her for you.”
You and Kayla had been in your hotel room sulking for hours at the fact that Gazebo day 2 had been canceled. So the two of you quickly decided to watch Jack’s interview along with WMCJ to pass the time, until Kayla screamed at the top of her lungs while looking down at her phone.
“BITCHHHHH!”
“Leave me to sulk in peace.” You replied while putting the comforter over your head.
“I don’t think you’ll be sulking too much longer. Jack is looking for you.”
“Excuse me?” Now this caught your attention and the comforter was now lying beside you as Kayla shoved her phone in your face as you saw his post on instagram.
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jackharlow: I need a favor. Someone find the girl on the left for me.
When you were done looking at it, you handed Kayla back her phone and laid back down.
“Bitch, what the fuck are you doing? Your HUSBAND is looking for you! Respond to this man!”
“But… I don’t know…” You said while playing with the ends of your curly hair. 
“You don’t know what? He obviously wants to talk to you again so what’s the problem?”
“What if this isn’t even what we think it is?”
“Y/N, he made an instagram post asking millions of his followers to find you. I think he’s making it pretty clear that more than likely he wants to date you.”
“I… now I know your ass is delusional.” You said while looking at her and shaking your head.
“Well, what do YOU think the reason is? Because I KNOW my ass is right. Just respond and see what he says. It can’t hurt. You didn’t get to see him perform today so this is the next best thing. You have to learn to take chances and not be so scared all the time.”
You sat there contemplating what you were going to do when you noticed that Kayla was staring at you.
“What?”
“If you get to fuck Jack Harlow, I want a five page research paper with sources and a title page in APA format when we get back home.” 
It had been around six in the evening when you had seen Jack’s post and still hadn’t thought of a way to creatively respond to it. It was now ten at night and you and Kayla were getting ready to go to an after party that Ace Pro was hosting not too far from where your hotel was when you had gotten the perfect idea once you were settled in Kayla’s car. You had quickly explained to her what the plan was and it seemed as if she was more excited than you were about you finally responding to him. 
“I knew what I was doing when I picked out that outfit for you! He is bound to see you in this and rip it off the second that you two are in person.”
“KAYLA!”
“What?! Just telling the truth. Now pose so we can get a good one and post it.”
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barricadebaddie: word on the street is that jackharlow is looking for me. Is that true?
Your location was set to Streets of Louisville and you were hoping that he would see it and respond.
You just hope that you didn’t take too long to answer him. 
It took less than fifteen minutes for a notification to pop up on your phone saying that you had a new message on instagram.
1 New Message from jackharlow 
“KAYLA HE SENT ME A MESSAGE!” The two of you had just pulled up to the club that the after party was going to take place in when your heart started beating a mile a minute once more.
“WELL OPEN IT!” 
jackharlow
I meant what I said when I told you that I looked forward to seeing you today. I wanted to meet up with you tonight if you were up for it.
You
Of course I’m up for it
jackharlow
If you’re at Ace’s party I’m on my way there
You
See you when you get here
jackharlow
Then I was hoping we can go somewhere by ourselves
Your eyes went wide as you shoved your phone into Kayla’s hand who quickly took it and read the message.
“Oh yeah, yall fucking later. If you need condoms, I got you.”
“I swear I can’t take your ass anywhere.”
“Look, don’t get mad at me for being prepared.”
You
I’d like that and I’m definitely up for it
Jack had liked your message before you saw that he quickly followed you. 
You and Kayla went inside and had gone all the way in the back in the far left corner as the two of you ordered drinks and simply waited for Jack to arrive. A lump felt as if it was growing in your throat that you quickly swallowed back down knowing that it was your nerves getting the best of you.
As shy of a personas you are, many times you thought about leaving and heading back to the hotel, but Kayla was right. You needed to stop being scared of your own shadow and live out of your comfort zone.
It was around 11:30 when a lot of commotion was happening near the entrance of the club, and that could only mean one thing.
Jack was finally here. 
You quickly opened instagram to shoot him a message letting him know where you were and simply waited until he made his rounds as he was speaking to different people and also got into the DJ booth with Ace. When he finally glanced down at his phone, your guess was that he was reading your message and he quickly looked to his left and spotted you. A small grin came across his face as he slid his phone back into his pocket and made his way over to you. 
“Have fun, I’m going to get another drink.” Kayla said as she saw Jack headed over towards you and quickly got up to make her way towards the bar before you could protest.
Once Jack had finally reached you, he leaned down to embrace you into a hug and he lightly pulled you into him, making you stand all the way up before leaning down and whispering in your ear. 
“For a minute there, I thought you weren’t going to respond to me.”
“Hmm, I admit I was hesitant, but I figured why not? You obviously wanted to find me for a reason, so here I am.”
“When I see something I want, I’m persistent until I get it.” Jack replied as he played with the ends of your hair and you just knew for a fact that you were about to faint right then and there. 
“And after all of that yesterday, I forgot to ask what your name was.”
“It’s Y/N.” You responded while laughing, having not even noticed that you never told him your name.
“Well, Y/N, you ready to get out of here?”
“On one condition.”
“And what’s that pretty girl?”
“A private show.”
“Hmm, of my songs or were you thinking about something else?” He asked as he leaned down to whisper in your ear once more, but this time kissed the shell of it.
“I’ll take both if you’re up for it.”
“It took me all damn day to find you, so I’m definitely up for it.”
258 notes · View notes
houseofhyde · 23 days
Text
thinking abt aemond falling in love w blind!reader.
pairing. aemond x fem!reader warnings. no use of y/n, enemies to friends to lovers, ableism, so much fluff, a little bit of smut, angst (who said that). no mention of the reader's physical description. wrote in one sitting, no edit, we die like real men. wordcount. 3.1k (this was meant to be a short silly drabble) hyde's input. couldn't get this out my mind so, naturally, i'm making it your problem too now. enjoy, muah x disclaimer ! i'm not visually impaired but i do have several family members who are, to different degrees, and i've tried to stay true to what i remember them describing it like to me. the reader in this is completely blind, however, and that is something i do not have any experience in. please, if you feel anything about my portrayal is wrong or offensive, kindly let me know and i will happily fix it <3
the first time you meet is a few days after the events on driftmark.
with his new disability, the septa encourages alicent to change his usual lessons alongside his siblings for ones held with a couple of other impaired children of highborn status living in the keep.
aemond, of course, protests.
nearly kicking and screaming.
yells at his mother that he doesn't want to be thrown in a box with all the other "broken toys".
he ends up going anyway, dragged there by a handful of guards.
sulks throughout the whole first week, sitting alone in a corner.
and he would've continued to do that forever, if you didn't invade his space.
aka sit down next to him and offer him a book.
"go away," he says, the pout on his lips pointing lower to the ground.
"i don't want to," you refute.
"i won't tell you again, go. away."
"who are you to tell me anything?"
it leaves him speechless, because,
who is he? seriously?!
he thinks you have to be some sort of idiot to not recognise your prince
the following days go the same as the first
you sit near him and hold out a book
he tells you to go away
sometimes you listen
(not without first making it clear that you're moving because you want to, not because he told you to)
other days you don't
you just sit there next to him
staring blankly ahead
not even attempting to open the book that sits in your lap
one day, when he's feeling particularly short on patience
(he had his first sparring lesson with ser criston since losing his eye and it went awfully, each hit and stumble he took to the ground made worse by the echo of aegon's laughter ringing out throughout the whole courtyard)
he asks why you never read that book
"are you an idiot, or something? can't you read? is that why you're here?"
despite how smart he is for his age, he seems to not see the irony in him judging you for being part of an impaired group, as if he isn't also right there with you
such introspection would require acceptance of his loss first, and aemond just isn't ready for that.
"i can't read," you confirm
"because you're slow"
"no."
"then why?"
"i can't see the pages," it's the first time he notices that you're not looking at him. you're trying, face turned and eyes pointed in his direction, but you're staring past his shoulder, "i can't see anything."
he feels guilty,
wretched,
and the sickest twist of comfort.
because he understands
or at least he tells himself he does
because he can't see anything either - out of his missing socket, that is.
the other eye can see perfectly clearly how you don't even flinch as you speak about your disability
and that's when the jealousy takes over.
"then what good is it carrying around that stupid book?"
he says it because he wants to be mean.
so mean that you run away and leave him alone to sulk forever more.
but you just sit there, shrug your shoulders and shift the book around in your palm,
"i like to feel the weight of it in my hand. plus, you never know when you're going to need throw it at someone"
he bites his tongue before he can ask how you can hope to hit a target you can't even see.
the hostility remains
for months, years.
but you sit near him,
he stops telling you to go away,
you still offer the book out to him.
he learns your name.
not because he wants to
but because the septa calls it out one day in the classroom
and you're the one that answers to it.
the first time he sees you outside the study room, you're all alone, none of your father's guards around you,
and that's what really makes him stop in his tracks.
"what kind of lord leaves his daughter to wander blindly around the keep?" he almost says with his usual disgust,
until he notices that you don't have your book
and you're crying.
despite his own discomfort, aemond tells himself he has to comfort you.
because he's thirteen, almost a man.
and what kind of respectable man leaves a girl to cry all by herself?
he wipes your tears with the sleeves of his doublet, waits patiently until your breathing slows, then he speaks,
"what happened?"
"it's you," you say it softly, almost like you can't believe he's the one comforting you.
"it's me. now tell me what happened?"
"nothing," you tell him at first,
until he demands the full truth in the name of his father, king viserys targaryen.
"i overheard my mother speaking to my father about me. i didn't mean to! i just wanted to show them how i memorised the path from my chambers to theirs, without an escort. i wanted to prove that i can be useful, and good, and not a burden. i heard them through the crack in their door. she wants him to send me away to join the silent sisters. she says i can't see, so i may as well not speak either. but my father won't listen. he says i'm his daughter, and that he will not send me away. he loves me too much, i worry he'll hate me for it one day."
that familiar guilty feeling creeps in,
the one he's felt lingering on his skin since the day you told him of your visual impairment.
he's suddenly so aware of the fact he can see you,
and your tear-stained face,
and the shades of blue in your dress.
"where is your book?" he asks.
"i dropped it, whilst running through the halls. i just wanted to stop hearing them, i didn't want... i didn't mean to cause any mess, i'm sorry."
in an act that surprises even him, aemond takes your hand in his
and pulls you both to your feet.
he slowly leads you along familiar hallways, turning corners he's turned a million times.
"where are we going?"
"trust me."
you know he's taken you to the library the minute he opens the doors, a whiff of old books hitting your senses.
he guides you to a book shelf, puts your hand up to touch the exposed spines
and tells you to move forward.
"stop when you feel it's right."
you stop after four steps.
your fingers grazing over a book titled Matters Of The Heart: a Compilation of Fictitious Stories on Love and Beauty.
he pulls it out the shelf,
guides you both over to a bench,
open the dust covered book,
and reads to you.
the following day, when your father's guards guides you down next to aemond in the study room
and you hold your book out to him
he takes it,
shuffles a little closer to you,
and softly recites the words off their pages.
from that day forward, you become an infamous pair in the keep.
the one-eyed prince and the sightless girl,
never one without the other.
aemond becomes your shadow, always two steps ahead or behind you.
you pick out books in the library
and he reads them to you both.
he brings you down to the courtyard
and watches how you flinch each time the clack of wooden swords rings out.
it drives him to be better,
learn to see more in his opponents than even two eyes would allow,
just so he can watch how the smile stretches across your face each time he tells you he won.
you grow so close that one day, the king invites your family to join the royals for supper.
aemond tries not to care that you end up sitting so far away from him at the table.
at least he can look down it and spot you seated at your father's side, he tells himself.
when dinner ends and music starts to play,
aemond ceases the chance to sneak away from his seat and steal the empty one by your side, both your parents having stood to speak with the king.
he brushes two fingers along the back of your hand,
a private, tactile language only you two can speak,
one that tells you it's him, without him even having to say a word.
"prince aemond," you say, and he instantly hates hearing you address him so formally. "you look handsome this evening"
"and how would you know that?" there's no hint of the malice, the mockery he once used to speak to you with, back when he was angry little boy and you were a stubborn girl.
now he's a man of fifteen years and anger is far from something he feels next to you.
he watches you shrug and the smile that he likes best - cheeky, playful - slips onto your lips
"my mother won't stop bringing it up. dashing, she said."
"is that so?"
"mhmm. but she also says my father should offer me to your father and have us both wed, what with our cripple-like qualities making us unsuited for any other lord or lady, so, really, what does she know? for all i know, you're the most hideous thing to walk the keep and i should feel blessed that i can't see you."
"imagine how i feel. i still have to see you."
"oh, the horrors! well then, my all-mighty seeing knight-in-eye-patch, would you lend me your sight one moment and tell me."
"tell you what?"
"do i have anything in my teeth?" you bite back your laughter as you open your mouth and put your pearly-whites out on display for him.
he doesn't even care if the sight is unlady-like
or if anyone else at the table has noticed.
he's too busy laughing along with you and telling lies of how a massive piece of veg is stuck between your upper front teeth.
aegon is as aegon has alaways been,
a thorn in aemond's side,
and he makes no exceptions when it comes to you.
he can't help but laugh at you both
mouth stained with wine as he saunters up and leans his face down between you both.
"isn't it amazing how, between you both, there's only one eye that actually works?"
aemond bites his tongue, like he always does when it comes to his brother.
you, however, aren't quieted so easily.
"oh, so amazing! do you know what's even more amazing? how the stench of you always announces your arrival."
it's the first time aemond feels it.
that flutter in his chest.
and once it starts, it doesn't seem to want to stop,
he seeks you out most hours of the day
and thinks of you when he's not with you.
when he notices the bruises that litter your arms
from bumping into corners and walking into walls
he has a cane made for you, to help you more safely make your way through the keep.
it's the greatest gift he can give you: the freedom to walk your own path.
one day, as he's telling you about the recent flight he took upon vhagar, you ask him what the sky looks like.
"well, it's blue"
you blink at him, wait for the ball to drop.
"but you wouldn't know what that means"
he tries to think of something else, a different way to describe the vastness of the sky
"have you ever ridden upon a horse?"
you nod your head
"have you ever ridden fast upon a horse?"
you nod again.
"that feeling, when you're gripping at the reigns, and the horse's hooves beat against the ground like a drum, and the wind takes no mercy on your hair, and, for a moment, there's this... warmth of possibility, anticipation, right here" he guides your hand to rest atop your chest, on the side that your heart rests. "that you can leap and beat any obstacle in your way, and for a moment the world is open, and vast, and limitless. that is what the sky looks like, the perfect place to race upon horseback."
"except you're on a dragon."
"well, yes, but find me a horse that has wings and i promise to take you riding up in the sky one day."
you ask him to describe more things, more often.
the forest.
the iron throne.
the sea.
vhagar.
each book he reads you.
till one day you ask, "what do you look like?"
he tries his best.
he tells you about his signature targaryen hair,
and helps guide your hand up to touch it.
he tells you about his pointed nose,
and guides your pointer finer up to drag itself down the length of it.
he tells you about his jawline,
and lets you feel that part of him too.
"and your eye?" you ask.
he doesn't say anything
but he does peal off his eyepatch
and guide your hand up to run down the length of his scar.
"what does it look like?"
"gross."
"that's funny, because it just feels like skin. is all skin gross?"
"no but this skin... it's damaged."
"i feel something. it's hard," you murmur, as your nail traces over the curve of the gemstone that fills his socket.
"it's a sapphire."
"a sapphire?"
"yes. it's like a precious, shiny, smooth, blue rock."
"what about the other eye, the one that's still there?"
"what about it?"
"what does it look like? what colour is it? eyes have colours, don't they?"
"they do," he says, gazing into the hypnotising shade of your own, "it's blue."
"the sky, the sea, your eyes. i think blue might be my favourite colour."
he falls asleep that night with a smile on his face
his heart relieved that you never asked him to put into words what you look like,
because there simply aren't enough words known to man,
be it in the common tongue
or high valyrian,
to describe how beautiful you are.
he tells you as much, when you do eventually ask.
in the fallout of storm's end, soaked to the bone and regretful,
it's you who his legs carry him to
your chambers, to be exact
it doesn't even cross his mind to care that his knocking at your door awakens you
he doesn't care, loses all ability to do so when he collapses into your arms
"i made a mistake," he tells you, when you ask what's wrong
"that's okay, mistakes help us learn better."
not this one, he thinks
you're so gentle with him
and your skin is so warm against his cold
that he can't help himself
his lips find yours.
his hands find your hips.
his breath gets lost somewhere between you both.
but that's okay,
you're all the air he's ever needed.
he feels selfish, when he guides you over to your bed.
and he knows he should tell you what's happened,
what's changed.
he knows he shouldn't be touching you with hands that are stained by blood.
but he's desperate,
and he's breathless,
and he's so frighteningly in love with you.
"please, aemond," it's you who begs for more.
it's you who tugs on the leather of his jerkin.
it's you who pulls at the cotton of his shirt.
it's you who he gets undressed for.
you both wind up naked upon your sheets,
limb tangled with limb.
"i wish i could see you," you tell him. "but i don't need to see you to know you're beautiful, aemond. i feel it, in everything you do for me."
so he lets his own eye shut.
decides he doesn't need to see you either,
not like this, his skin tainted with the smell of the rain, and his dragon, and the velaryon boy's scream.
and the truth is, he wants to take you like this.
he wants to be cruel, and damn you to a life by his side.
but he looks at you,
naked beneath him,
lips swollen with his kisses,
the shine of your own arousal peaking out from that space between your thighs,
and all he sees is the girl he read stories to.
the girl who swooned and awed over every cheesy line about a knight,
and all his knightly honour,
loving his lady in the way that's deemed right by the gods and the lords.
and aemond just can't bring himself to defile your honour,
not like this.
so even as you whine,
and moan,
and offer up your maidenhead on a platter of your unapologetic beauty,
the prince just continues to edge at both your own pleasures,
hips grinding back and forth,
lips tangling with your own,
voice whispering nos, and we can't do thats, and not yets.
"tomorrow," he promises, the spill of his pre-seed smearing along your pelvis with each stuttered thrust of his hardened cock against your soft skin, "i'm going to ask your father for your hand."
"but, how?" you sound so pretty, he can't help himself and lets his eye reopen, searing the haunting image of you naked and pliant beneath him into his mind's eye.. "your mother... she said you flew to offer your hand to one of the baratheon girls."
"what i promised lord baratheon was a targaryen prince, and i intend to keep that promise," he speaks with so much conviction, skipping over the events of his nephew, and his dagger, and his joyride in the sky. "daeron is a boy of sixteen, he can have her. but i, i will belong to you."
the will to leave you, maidenhead still intact, somehow finds its way into his heart
he doesn't fail to leave you sated, however,
his finger dancing along the pretty pearl that has you whining his name and losing your mind upon the mattress.
he keeps his word,
wakes not with the urgent need to discuss last night's war-inciting events with his mother
but with the burning desire to find your father and win his approval
he doesn't find him in his quarter of the keep.
or in the training yard.
or in his seat at the small council.
what he does find is his fear stricken mother,
his stoic grandfather,
his giggling brother.
"aemond, what have you done?"
he doesn't answer
they already know what he done,
the whole realm likely knows, his half-sister too.
so he asks what he really cares about,
asks where your father is.
"he's gone," his mother answers.
"after he heard about your business with lucerys," aegon continues. "the traitor's taken his family to dragonstone and bent the knee to our bastard-bearing cunt of a sister."
so yeah that's what i'm thinking about.
anyway, goodnight <33
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lecsainz · 1 year
Text
stuck in the elevator
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: Y/N freaking out and charles being a sweetheart, the elevator breaking down, cute french nicknames.
authors note: [SOMETHING COOL] because i really have no idea what to write here today 😭
word count: 1.1K
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Charles Leclerc was in Miami for the Grand Prix, but he had to take a break from the busy atmosphere and have a moment to himself. He decided to take the elevator up to his hotel room when he saw a girl in there with him. He was on the phone and didn't pay much attention to her until the elevator suddenly shook, causing Y/N to stumble. The girl, Y/N, immediately started to panic, saying things like "I can't die yet" and "I have so much to live for". Charles found it amusing, but he knew he needed to comfort her.
"I think we're stuck," Charles replied, his eyes scanning the elevator buttons.
"What do you mean we're stuck? We can't be stuck!" Y/N started to panic.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Charles said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get out of here soon enough."
"But what if we don't? What if we're stuck in here forever?" Y/N asked, her voice shaking.
Charles couldn't help but chuckle. "Trust me, we won't be stuck in here forever. And even if we were, I don't think spending eternity with you would be so bad."
Y/N blushed at his words, and Charles couldn't help but smile at her reaction.
They spent the next few minutes trying to press the emergency button and asking for help, but there was no response.
Charles leaned against the wall, "Well, looks like we're stuck here for a while."
Y/N groaned, "Great. Just my luck."
Charles looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, ma chérie, I guess we'll have to find a way to pass the time then." he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
Y/N couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine at the sound of Charles' french.
Y/N arched an eyebrow, curious. "And what did you have in mind?" she asked.
Charles stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I was thinking we could get to know each other a little better." he said, his voice low and seductive. Y/N couldn't help but smile.
"So, Miami, huh?" Charles asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator with a curious expression.
Y/N nodded, "Yeah, I heard the Grand Prix is amazing, and I've never been to Miami before, so I figured why not?"
"Do you like formula one?" he asked surprised.
Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I do."
Charles' face lit up. "That's great! Do you have a favorite team?"
Y/N grinned mischievously. "I'm a Mercedes fan. I mean, have you seen Toto Wolff? He's a total babe."
Charles feigned offense, putting a hand over his heart. "Hey now, I'm a Ferrari driver. You're not supposed to like our rivals."
Y/N laughed. "Well, I can't help it. But I think your charming french accent could make me change my mind." Charles smiled smugly at the compliment.
"Well, I appreciate the sentiment. Maybe I can even convince you to switch over to Team Ferrari." He teased, his eyes sparkling.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, feigning consideration. "Hmm, I don't know. I mean, I don't think anyone can replace Toto in my heart." Charles laughed, shaking his head.
They sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke up again, "You know, there's something about being stuck in an elevator that's kind of romantic."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Really? I'm not feeling it."
Charles grinned, "Well, just imagine it. Two people, alone in a confined space, forced to confront their feelings."
Y/N rolled her eyes, "Oh please. There are no feelings here."
Charles chuckled, "Are you sure about that, ma chérie? I mean, you did say my french accent was charming."
Y/N's cheeks turned red, "I did not!"
They fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Charles picked up his phone and began scrolling through his photos.
"You know, I have some amazing pictures from Monaco," he said, showing Y/N a photo of himself overlooking the harbor.
Y/N leaned over to get a better look, her arm brushing against his. She quickly pulled away, but Charles didn't seem to mind.
"It's beautiful." she said, admiring the photo.
"It's my hometown. I was born and raised there." Charles replied with a smile.
S/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."
"Yeah, it's a special place for me." Charles said, his gaze lingering on Y/N.
As hours passed and they were still stuck in the elevator, Charles and Y/N talked about everything and nothing. They discussed their favorite movies, their dream travel destinations, and even shared childhood stories.
Charles found himself enjoying Y/N's company more and more as they talked. She was funny, intelligent, and had a unique perspective on life that he found refreshing. As the hours dragged on, they joked and laughed together, forgetting about the chaos of being stuck in an elevator.
At some point, exhaustion caught up with Y/N and she dozed off, her head resting on Charles' shoulder. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her sleeping peacefully, her breaths steady and calm.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and whispered, "Tu es tellement belle*." *you are so beautiful
When they finally got out of the elevator, Y/N woke up from her nap on Charles' shoulder, she felt a bit embarrassed but also grateful for his comfort during their ordeal in the elevator. She looked up at him and smiled.
"Thank you so much for being there for me, Charles. I don't know what I would have done without you," she said.
Charles smiled back at her. "Of course, Y/N. I'm just glad I could be of help. And who knows, maybe we can find ourselves stuck in an elevator again sometime soon," he teased.
Y/N laughed. "I think once was enough for me, but I wouldn't mind seeing you again outside of an elevator."
Charles watched Y/N walk away, feeling a sudden pang of regret. He realized that they hadn't exchanged numbers or made any plans to meet up again. He mentally scolded himself for being so caught up in the moment and not thinking ahead.
"*Merde." he muttered to himself. "I can't believe I forgot to ask for her number."*shit
But he wasn't about to give up that easily. He made a mental note to try and find her at the Grand Prix later that day, hoping to get a second chance to make things right.
As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N had left a lasting impression on him. He knew he had to see her again.
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molotovmetro · 1 year
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The 141 + König with a s/o who goes non-verbal
Tiny disclaimer: im autistic and have moments of being non verbal during breakdowns etc, so this is based mostly off of my own experience, but if anyone feels like ive said inaccurate or offensive things, please let me know as that would never be my intention. The way I've written this suggests this is a negative feeling (, since thats how i experience it) but I understand that might not be the same for everyone. For some people this might just be a daily or
Requested by @apocalypticseagull
Warnings: mentions of stress and the slightest hint at possible injury, besides that nothing I can think of
M!reader
Ghost
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Ghost relates to you. While he wouldn't claim his experience is the same, he gets moments of overstimulation where he wants everyone to leave him alone, and will just stop reacting to people.
When he feels like this, he prefers to sit in his room, either completely in the dark or with only a small lamp on, and have as little noise around him as possible.
If you're in a stress situation, not knowing what else to do to help you, that's what he'll resort to.
He'll take you into either his room or yours, whichever you would prefer, and holds you while letting you get away from all the triggers for a bit. Unless you're dealing with life or death situations, whatever work you have left for the day can wait. Your wellbeing always comes first.
Soap
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Soap is a lot more observant than people give him credit for. He's the king of avoiding stressful situations for you whenever he can.
But alas, he can't avoid it every time. Whether you start saying less and less as the minutes go on, or just stop talking suddenly, he notices immediately.
Not that he'd be quick to admit it, but he's got a written list of everything you like, even if it's just something you mentioned in passing. He absutely will use this list to do whatever he can to make you smile and relieve some of your stress.
He'll make sure to find a way to still communicate that both of you are comfortable with. He'll happily lend you his journal to write in, or he'll ask Roach for some lessons in sign language. He'd break his back bending over backwards to make you comfortable if he had to.
Gaz
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No matter how often it happens, Gaz still feels a jolt of panic whenever you don't respond over coms when you're on a mission. He almost sags in relief as soon as he hears you hum, or even just hears the crackly static of you pushing your radio's button.
He knows you're a talented soldier and you're more than capable of handling yourself, he still prefers to be near you at all times. What if something happens and you can't tell him? You could be in trouble without him even knowing. He'll, just knowing you're stressed is making him want to reach for you.
He likes his job, likes helping people and ridding the world of danger, but his favourite part of every mission is when you're sitting in the exfil helo after a good mission, and you give him that wide smile he's been waiting hours, if not days to see.
Price
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You and Price have been working together for so long, you both know the drill. When he starts to notice you going quiet, he makes sure he only asks yes or no questions. On your side; one click of your radio button for no, two for yes. Throw in some improvised morse code when necessary, and you've got a solid communications system.
Having this system is also a huge bonus during stealth missions, when he can't talk freely without risking being spotted.
He loves hearing your voice, but he doesn't treat you any differently when you can't talk. He'll support you in whatever way you need, without making it feel like he's babying you.
The two of you are a well oiled machine. No matter how stressful the situation, usually you can tell what the other one is thinking just by looking at them. You know you both have each other's back, verbal communication or not.
König
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König doesn't mean to make a big deal out of it, and he won't if you don't, but he does worry.
After a situation like that happens once, he commits everything that helps you to his memory, and uses the knowledge to help you the next time it happens.
Even down to the tiniest detail, he'll remember. If you don't like a certain texture or can only stand a certain flavour of drink during moments like this, he's making sure you have everything you need and are as comfortable as possible. Whatever is stressing you will be dealt with by him while you're resting and calming down.
If you want to be alone, he understands and respects that, and gives you the space you need. But if you don't, there's nowhere he'd rather be than by your side.
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frnchgirls · 2 months
Text
warnings: nsfw!! filth with plot! danny is possessive! and has a dirty mouth! slight aftercare :]
you're a vandal being interviewed by danny in your apartment when he asks you about your love life. all the other guys are settling down and getting married and having kids, so it only makes sense to know if you're seeing somebody too, right?
you tell him you're not and that it's been bleak cause every man you've been with has had beliefs that didn't align with yours or was in the middle of a messy divorce or couldn't make you cum and more often than not it was a combination of the three. he almost swallows his fucking cigarette cause surely you didn't just say what he thinks you said, and you sink down in the couch a little from the embarrassment.
"you've gotta be kiddin' me." he sighs, shaking his head in disbelief, "so what, like, a guy's never made ya cum before?" he asks for clarification and his hand falters a little as he brings the microphone closer to your face. he’s only recording this for personal use, but you want to smack it out of his grip when you answer, "i dunno, maybe. you makin' fun of me, danny? am i the only woman ya know who hasn't finished during sex?"
he shakes his head, and he feels bad that it's making you feel bad cause the only reason he's so surprised is that you're the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on, is all. it's offensive that a man hasn't been able to please such a sweet thing like you, really. "i think it's normal. hell, i'm sure kathy or betty could tell ya the same. girls i've been with, too." he explains with a nod as he takes a drag and puffs out the smoke. "it's just that, i've personally never had any complaints."
you can only sit there in silence cause you're not sure if danny's actually flirting with you right now or if you just never woke up from your dream this morning. thankfully you don't have to wonder for long, cause he stubs out his cigarette and speaks up again with a smirk, "you mind if i have a go?" deep down, he already knows your answer.
it's hard to resist the urge to ask him what the hell he's talking about. you want to hear him say it but even more than that, you want him to show you. so, you humor him, shaking your head and biting your lip and then he's ordering you to throw your legs over the arm of the loveseat and what did you get yourself into?
he pulls your bottoms down your thighs, just enough for him to get his face between them, and when he sees the state of you, he gets so fuckin' smug. "this wet just from talkin' t'me, baby? you got a crush on me or somethin'?" danny asks, and just as you're about to tell him to shut the fuck up and eat your pussy, he's yanking your panties down and doing exactly that.
his hands spread you apart while his tongue dips inside your cunt, and oh he wasn't bluffing cause his nose is bumping into your clit and his mustache is brushing against your folds with each flick and it feels too good. one of your hands is threaded through his hair while the other is clamped over your mouth cause he's practically pulling the moans right out of you, and you have neighbors for god’s sake.
danny tries not to grin as he licks into you, but how can he not when you’re whining like that because of him? when you notice, you’re not sure if it pisses you off or turns you on so you tug his hair harder, nails scratching at his scalp. and fuck, he likes that a lot so he’s sucking your clit and adding a finger in no time at all.
it's pathetic how fast his movements you there, but really, it's the filthy things he says that bring you over the edge. "c'mon baby, you gonna cum for me? that's it, gimme my fuckin' cum. y’know i need it. forget those losers who couldn’t handle ya. you should be mine. atta girl, just like that." danny groans against you and you're shaking like a leaf, wailing "thank you, thank you, thank you" as you release.
you might have given him a little too much confidence, cause after he cleans you both up and fixes your clothes and fetches you some water like the sweetheart he is, he’s smiling from ear to ear and asking you if you'd like to be his girlfriend.
he really meant it when he said you should be his.
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rainbowsky · 5 months
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Sorry I've taken so long to address this, I've had a very busy day and didn't have time to finish this post (which I started yesterday).
I'm talking, of course, about the incredibly controversial situation surrounding DD right now. I've gotten some messages about it so I figured I'd give my thoughts in a bigger post so that I don't have to keep repeating myself.
(CW: racism, spoilers FPU)
I know that by now most people are aware of the situation, but I'm going to start from square one for those who are just catching up on the topic.
There is a scene in Formed Police Unit where Chinese UN peacekeeping troops need to rescue a group of citizens who are surrounded by terrorists. In order to accomplish this they disguise themselves as people from the community. This being Africa, the troops were disguised using blackface.
Yes, I am saying that DD and his castmates appear in the film in blackface.
I am not going to post a picture of that here. It's just something I can't post on my blog. I understand that many of you will want to see for yourself so I'll link a clip of the scene, which was posted on Weibo. Please be aware before clicking - this is full-on blackface. Always take care of yourselves, and if you think it might be upsetting to you don't click. You don't need to see it to be a 'good fan'.
Background
For those who may not know, this movie was filmed years ago, in 2021. During those years I have seen many anti attacks against DD, claiming that he is racist and has worn blackface. Here's the photo that was circulating back then.
At the time I thought the makeup that he was wearing was likely anti-reflective black paint or camouflage paint such as is used by snipers (which he played in the film). I assumed that he was wearing his own hoodie over part of a military costume, because he was wearing a cammo shirt and what might have been combat trousers.
I was certainly not expecting full-on blackface from this movie.
There's no getting around it - this is extremely difficult to look at.
Blackface is widely viewed as offensive and racist. It shouldn't be hard to understand why. Putting on another person's ethnicity like a costume is deeply insensitive, particularly when you consider that BIPOC (black, indigenous, and other people of color) are so frequently targeted, exploited and marginalized. For those in positions of privilege and power to put on the appearance of the people who they oppress and exploit... it's just shocking and awful.
Blackface is most frequently talked about in an American context, but it's actually a problem globally - including in China. More on all that here.
The film
I have not actually seen the film, so I don't know much about the context beyond what is being discussed in the fandom. As I said earlier, in the film a group of UN police officers need to infiltrate an area in the community, and they take on disguises in order to do so.
In promotional media this film is being presented as based on true stories from real missions*. It seems the situation in question really happened on a Chinese peacekeeping mission, and the UN troops disguised themselves as black citizens in order to infiltrate and extract the endangered captives.
*I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt on this because it doesn't change how I feel it should have been handled.
This is important context that is being conveniently left out of much of the backlash about this situation. People are outright claiming that DD plays a black person in the movie - that he wore blackface to perform a role that a black actor could have played. This simply isn't true, and people making these claims are antis and liars. There's simply no excuse for not knowing the full context.
Having said that, I don't really think it matters how it ended up in the film. I do not think there is such a thing as a palatable or appropriate use of blackface. In this day and age it is nearly universally understood to be racist, and it's extremely controversial.
I can understand if they were trying to be accurate to the mission that they were portraying, but surely there are other ways they could have accomplished this scene (perhaps with the clothing but not the blackface). 'Historical accuracy' isn't as important as cultural sensitivity, not by any stretch of the imagination. In the interest of respecting audiences they could have adapted the scene to make the use of blackface unnecessary.
I really see no excuse for anything like this in 2024.
Audience reactions
Chinese sensibilities around these topics are very different from what we are used to in the West.
According to fan repos audiences initially didn't recognize any of the actors, and once it became apparent that they were in disguise, laughter erupted around the room. In fact, most fans are laughing a lot at the photos and video even on social media (although some Chinese netizens have been upset by it and have voiced complaints to various stakeholders).
It is also being widely discussed on Chinese social media as an exciting scene of heroism in the film.
I feel the need to point out that the laughter and mockery is a huge part of the harm, here. As if it's not bad enough that these actors are performing in blackface and presenting a perversion of black ethnicity, it also becomes an opportunity for audiences to mock and disrespect black people. It's become an opportunity for social media to be filled with racist jokes and mockery.
Roadshow statements
There have been some clips circulating of PR and roadshow moments with black cast members and some black audience members who have spoken up in support of the film and to thank the cast and crew for telling the story. Here's one example.
International fans have been dismissing those statements as ignorant or coerced, which I think is offensive and deeply fucked up. There's no planet on which I'm going to - with a totally straight face - say that a black person's response to the movie is not legitimate just because it doesn't comport with my own view.
This is a complex issue and there are inevitably going to be a lot of different perspectives. I hope people won't exacerbate the problem by supplanting black voices on this issue with their own, no matter what's being said. If there's any manipulation going on, let's assume it was in their choosing supportive black figures to speak for the film rather than claim that the black spokespeople are insincere.
China has a lot of issues with racism, there's no doubt about it. It's a huge part of why so many people try to whiten their skin, or why they mock each other when their skin gets tanned/darker. There is a lot of sinister, fucked up stuff going on in China around race - both in the country and in their dealings with other countries.
But we can't claim to speak for black people in China, particularly when they are speaking for themselves! I would hope this is extremely obvious!
Where's DD in all this?
It's understandable that bystanders will react to what they're seeing and might immediately deem it unacceptable - and DD along with it. Their reactions are valid, but as fans I hope that we can look at him with a bit more empathy. I hope that we can take a moment to try to see things from his perspective.
DD has been interested in and an avid fan of black culture since he was a small child. We've all seen how much he immerses himself in hip hop, street dance and the accompanying music and fashion. And yes, he's been accused of cultural appropriation in the past for wearing locs and durags.
However, I think fans need a bit of perspective here to get a sense of where DD might be coming from. Here's a guy who loves black culture, who has close friends who are black, who regularly works with black artists and who supports black artists, in a culture where racism against black people is prevalent and often extreme.
I think DD would probably be amazed to hear the accusations of racism against him. He likely has very few people in his orbit who are anywhere near as supportive of or as closely connected to black people as he is. He likely stands out in his circle as being particularly into black culture and connected with black artists, and probably regularly faces ignorant questions or digs from people around him about his close association with black artists and culture.
Not just because of racism alone, but also due to the racist parallels the government tends to draw between black culture, street dance, hip hop, etc. and criminality/moral degradation*. It's likely that ignorant people in his orbit have expressed concern or wariness toward him because of these associations.
*That is, until breakdancing became an Olympic sport, then they were suddenly onboard with some of it.
I'm not saying that he doesn't have a lot of learning to do (and if this situation becomes what I think it might become, he'll have a big opportunity to do so), I'm just saying that his ignorance isn't mean-spirited. He's coming at this from a totally different angle than any of us are, and he is immersed in a totally different cultural perspective than our own. In his world, his interest likely makes him a bit of an anomaly.
So those painting him as a horrible racist... it's just not how I see it.
The element of choice
I've heard many people say that DD 'didn't have any choice' about this role, that turning it down would not have been an option or that he would be under some kind of threat if he didn't take this role. I don't agree with that characterization of things. I don't think it's quite as 'gun to the head' as a lot of fans paint it.
I think it's more likely that he simply didn't realize that the role would involve blackface when he accepted it, or that he thought that blackface in this context - to infiltrate a terrorist cell and save civilians - would be fine. We don't need to depict China as forcibly compelling actors to take unwanted roles if we want to make sense of this. There are simpler, more logical explanations.
DD wouldn't have been the one deciding how to depict the scene - he didn't have that power in 2021 - but I also doubt he would have had a major problem with it given everything we know.
We must overcome our Western tendency to see things only from our own perspective. This has a totally different cultural context in China, and the voices we listen to about it should not be issuing exclusively from white faces that are not at ground zero of this situation.
Final thoughts
This film has had me worried from day one. I think most people have been expecting it to be full of offensive portrayals and propagandistic fuckery. There are so many ways in which a Chinese film about the UN is potentially a sticky, tricky mess. This blackface thing is likely just one problem on a towering pile of problems.
However, I'm not going to sugarcoat this - this has the potential to be a real shitshow for DD, and I am concerned. Especially if this film gets an international release.
We need to brace ourselves, because I don't think this is going to just disappear. DD has endorsements with international brands, and this could definitely cause backlash for those brands unless the issue is addressed and the scenes removed. There's no planet on which brands like Chanel and Lacoste can afford to have one of their spokespeople plastered everywhere in blackface.
If this film gets an international release and those scenes are left intact, it's possible he will lose some brands.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but let's face it - things like this have consequences, and that's why it's so important for producers and artists to be sensitive about what they're portraying.
While I think there's some endorsement risk here for DD, and the potential loss of some international fans, I want to be clear about one thing: I don't think this will threaten his career overall. In China this just isn't an issue in the way it is internationally.
I do hope the film team addresses this issue in some way, ideally by removing the scenes. They just finished doing a massive edit to remove ZZH from the film, surely they can handle something like this. But let's not hold our breath...
Everyone has the right to make up their minds about DD. As I've often said, being a turtle isn't for the faint of heart. That's not just because turtles are frequent targets for bullies, or because we have to constantly live with uncertainty and doubt.
Being an international turtle also isn't for the faint of heart because there are a lot of cultural and political minefields to navigate, and many ideological differences to adapt to. There's a huge learning curve and a lot of unknowns, and turtles who want to survive have to make peace with the fact that we and the boys are from different worlds in many ways. We may never know where they really stand on issues that are important to us.
However, in this case I feel confident that I know where DD's heart is on this issue. He simply doesn't hold hatred, disrespect or disdain for black people. Quite the contrary.
I think we'd all just feel a lot better if he had a good grasp on how to be a better ally.
And while we're waiting for that, I think we should put our money where our mouths are and learn more about these issues ourselves, both in China and locally at home. We want DD to be a better person; let's be better people too.
Edit: more on this here.
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talaok · 1 year
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Begging
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Pairing: Javier Peña x sex worker!reader
summary: Javier is desperate to see you, and he's not above begging
Warnings: Smut | oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, lots of fluffy smut even though it wasn't the initial idea, and Javi being a simp
You were already late, the last thing you needed was for the phone to ring.
"Hello?" annoyance was tracing your tone ever so clearly.
"Hi sweetheart"
You stopped what you were doing, the shoe in your hand momentarily forgotten.
"Javi I'm busy" you immediately blew him off.
"mh, how busy?" the sweet sound of him taking a drag from his cigarette traveling through the phone.
"Very busy" you cleared "I'm late to meet a client"
Silence on the other end.
Lately, you kept having a feeling he didn't like when you talked about your other clients.
"don't you usually arrive late on purpose?"
"I do, but just of five minutes, not half an hour"
"I'm sure he'll wait, doll," he said "I can't think of a man who wouldn't"
You rolled your eyes "I don't have time for this Javier, why did you call?"
"you know why baby" his voice was warm and sultry "I've had a long day"
The implications behind his words were clear as day for someone who'd heard every variation of - I need you- falling from his lips.
"It's 3 pm" you reminded him, glancing at your watch
"It is, and I've been thinking of that sweet mouth of yours since 6 a.m," he said, his voice lowering as he skimmed around the office to make sure no one heard.
"well you did nine, you can survive for another two"
" 'm not sure I can sweetheart" he breathed "I need to see you"
"now?" 
"now."
"I can't now Javi, I've got a client"
"blow him off"
"you know I can't do that"
"why not?"
"I have a reputation to maintain, and this one pays well"
"I can pay too" he suggested, his desperation cracking through "I can double the amount"
You laughed softly "I doubt you could afford that"
He winced "That much?"
"yes, that much"
He paused for a moment "Y'know we've got cash laying around here, I doubt anyone would notice a few stacks disappearing"
You feigned a gasp "Agent Peña, that's a very serious offense you're joking about, I doubt your boss would be happy to hear you talk like that"
"I doubt Messina would be happy to hear me talk about anything today" he sighed "And 'm not joking, sweetheart, I need you"
You could hear and feel the hunger in his voice
"I can't Javi" you spoke, ignoring the feeling in your chest 
"Please baby" he groaned " just five minutes"
You bit down a laugh "We both know what five minutes mean to you"
He almost smiled too now "You want me to beg sweetheart, is that it?" he asked " 'cause I'll do it"
you chuckled sweetly " I've heard you beg plenty of times before baby, it has gotten old" you joked
"Please princess" he prayed nonetheless "I promise I'll make it up to you," he said 
"I thought we'd already established you don't have the money"
"That's not what I meant" he murmured, his eyes trained on the agent walking past him, until he was sure he could speak again "I'll make you come as many times as that perfect body of yours can take"
A breath got caught in your throat 
"Javi..."
"I'll do anything baby, anything at all that you ask me I'll do it, just please let me see you," he sighed "I just need to feel you... and hear you, and have you all to myself for even just a second"
"I-"
"I miss you" he interrupted you "fuck I miss you so much" he clutched the phone in his hand " 'just need to see you, baby"
You let out a deep breath, begging your mind to switch up on what you knew it had already decided.
Your fingers slowly twisted around the phone's chord as you surrendered to your destiny, to your only weakness.
"this will never happen again, Javier, we clear?"
"yes 'mam"
"you have twenty minutes to get here or I'm calling my client back"
"I'm on my way baby"
__ __ __
The door hadn't even closed that his lips were on you.
His strong hands gripped your waist and felt all of what they could.
You struggled to not stumble backward, but his fingers gripping your hair so as not to leave any space between you, prevented you from it.
"A hi would have been nice" you smiled as he ducked to kiss your neck.
"hi sweetheart" he carelessly murmured against your skin, one of his hands finding your ass.
“god I missed you" he groaned, leaning away just an inch to properly look at you.
"you know, you could have called any of your other women..." you raised an eyebrow.
"what other women?" he said with a smugness only Javier F. Peña could ever get away with.
You couldn't help but laugh "What can I offer you, water, food, anything?"
" I'm not hungry for food sweetheart" his grip on you got tighter 
"Mh" you bit down a grin "and what exactly are you hungry for, agent?"
He chuckled, his nose gently brushing yours "How 'bout I show you?" he asked, giving your lips a quick peck and starting towards the couch, as it was the closest surface.
"na-ah" you stopped him "We're going to the bedroom this time, you can wait five more seconds" you scolded, ignoring his frustrated sigh and getting out of his hold to walk towards your room as he followed like a lost puppy.
"There," you said, closing the door after he entered "wasn't so hard now was it?"
He wasted no time getting all over you once more, his lips, his hands, every part of him was claiming you like a lost treasure.
"I have a surprise for you" you murmured, distracting him from his work on your neck.
"oh yeah, what's that?"
You didn't answer, just slowly, excruciatingly slowly, started slipping your black silk robe off.
Javi's mouth turned to sand the moment it fell at your feet.
You were wearing what he could only describe as every men's ticket to heaven, or hell perhaps.
It was a fire red lingerie set, with small panties and an almost see-through bra, but what really got Javier contemplating if perhaps god really existed, were the stockings adorning your legs, and especially that small bow on the hem of each of them.
"fuck" he breathed "You're too good to me" he murmured, hesitating to touch you, as if the moment he did, you would dissipate into thin air
"I know I am"
"Is this what you were wearing to see your client?" he asked, his hand finally finding your waist
You shook your head "No, I wore this just for you"
" you did?" he breathed, his eyes not knowing were on your body to focus.
"I know how you like red"
He let out a small laugh "I think it's just become my favorite color"
He was so overwhelmed with all the possible things he could and wanted to do to you at that moment that he found himself leaning in to just kiss you.
His tongue parted your lips and explored your whole mouth as his fingers traced the lace of your panties.
If this was heaven, then Javier was happy he died.
"Please get on the bed" he instructed with what resembled more of a beg.
You did as told, observing with amusement the lust in his pupils.
His eyes didn't leave you for even a second as he took his gun and badge out of his jeans and placed them on the nightstand and not even when he took, or better, threw his shirt off.
"you scared I might disappear?" you joked
"I'm scared I might wake up" he answered, finally stepping in front of you just to kneel before you.
His digits trailed the fabric on your leg until they reached the hem, and that's when his lips came to play.
he gently picked up your left leg and started leaving hot, desperate kisses starting from your ankle up until he reached your naked thigh.
By the time he'd done it to both your legs your body's temperature had risen a worrying amount.
His eyes found yours again and he could have come right there in his pants just by the sight of your reddened cheeks and caged lips.
"Open your legs for me, sweet girl"
You did as told without hesitation.
He slowly took your panties off, and let out an adoring sigh.
He grabbed both your legs and placed them on his shoulders, before bending down to kiss the inside of your thighs, sending goosebumps up your spine.
"god, the woman you are" he breathed, his eyes fixated on your core.
"Please Javi" you whimpered
And as always, the teasing was over the moment he heard that sweet voice of yours.
He dove in, taking your pussy into his mouth.
"oh god," you breathed, clutching his head to your body and falling back on the bed.
No high felt this good. If Javier had to choose a way to go, this would be it, his head between your thighs and you moaning beneath him.
His tongue spread your folds hungrily, tasting and licking up and down so that each inch of you had been worshipped, before starting to focus on your clit.
His tongue swirled around over your nub and your back arched off the bed, a high moan climbing up your throat.
"Fuck, baby" you cried, your eyes shut in bliss and your fingers gripping his locks.
The feeling of his mustache and the tip of his nose occasionally hitting your skin was only heightening your pleasure.
While one of his hands remained on your thigh, one traveled upwards until it could freely grope and feel your tits.
Your nipples were perked under the feeble fabric of your bra, and he groaned lowly as he gently toyed with one of them.
You could only let out a desperate moan.
His tongue kept lapping at you, focusing on your nub and occasionally exploring your heat or threatening your entrance until you were panting and squirming under him.
his hold on your leg tightened when he felt your stomach start to shake as your orgasm approached.
"Javi!" you could only cry, once his mouth finally sent you over the edge.
You gripped his hair for dear life as you breathed his name over and over.
He did not stop until you had fully come down your high, and even then, he hesitated before leaning away.
You locked eyes as you both caught your breath, a grin tugging at both your lips before he climbed on top of you and kissed you, your taste still lingering in his mouth.
His dick was fighting against his jeans for room to grow, and your hands roaming closer to where he needed you definitely didn't help.
he let out a low groan once you palmed the bulge in his pants, and you smiled softly.
"Fuck, sweetheart" he growled, kissing the skin beneath your ear 
"What?" you asked playfully
"I need to fuck you"
"need?" you raised an eyebrow, stifling a grin
"yeah, need" he nodded, unwillingly climbing off the bed to unfasten his belt and take off his jeans in record time.
In the meantime, you took off your bra, making the conscious decision of leaving your stockings on.
By the look of it, he was pleased with the idea.
His cock was hard and already leaking some precum, and even if you'd seen him desperate before, today he seemed even more.
You were gonna talk to him later, now you had a more pressing matter at hand.
"come here" you invited him, shuffling up the bed and spreading your legs.
He immediately obeyed, coming down on top of you to nestle between your thighs, and melting into your mouth.
He kissed you deep and through, like he dreamed of doing all day and all last night (even if he didn't tell you that), and you whimpered weakly into his mouth, as your arms came up behind his neck.
"God I missed you" he breathed
"you saw me the day before yesterday javi"
"yeah, and that's what?" he asked, leaving another quick kiss on your lips "More than 24 hours without kissing this perfect mouth of yours?" he said "I call that torture"
You chuckled lightly "Careful there, that's what addiction sounds like"
"Yeah, well maybe I am addicted"
You smiled again "now, I don't think your colleagues at the DEA would like the sound of that" you joked.
"then I'll quit," he said 
"You'll quit?" you teased
"Yeah" he kissed you "I'll quit and then we'll buy a farm in Texas and spend the rest of our lives like this"
You felt your heart speed up at that childish, unrealizable vision, and yet, you couldn't help but smile.
"I like the sound of that," you said, because it was the truth, because you did like all the impossible plans Javi'd made for your future over the course of all your meetings.
It started as a silly joke, but each time it grew to be something more, you could feel it in his tone, in the way he'd stroke your cheek as he told you about how many dogs you'd keep on the farm.
He was the one that started it, but after a while, you joined him. You contributed with your own hopes, your own dreams, and so, those hours spent together became much more than sex, you became much more than a prostitute and a DEA agent, you became dreamers, and for a few moments, that's all you stayed, as everything else disappeared.
"yeah? I do too, sweetheart" he breathed, kissing you once more before finally positioning himself at your entrance.
Your cries mixed with his groans as he slowly entered you.
One of his hands was on your cheek while the other one kept your legs on his waist so he could hit the angle he knew would make your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"fuck baby" he growled softly, starting his slow but oh-so-deep pace as you gripped his shoulders.
That's the thing about Javier, he was always sweet.. gentle. when you first met him you thought he was gonna be another overworked man looking for a way to relieve some stress, but he was everything but.
He cared, maybe a dangerous amount.
"oh my god" you moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist.
"I know baby, I know" he murmured, picking up his pace and sinking deeper inside of you.
He was mesmerized by your body underneath his, by your tits bouncing with his movements, by your lips between your teeth, by the way you shut your eyes once the feeling overwhelmed you.
He wanted to take a picture and keep it in his wallet, fuck, he wanted the sight to be tattooed inside his eyelids.
"god you're amazing" he whispered, dipping down to suck on your breasts as you moaned and whimpered.
"fuck, sweetheart" he breathed, coming back up to kiss your mouth.
Your moans filled the room, growing louder and louder until the creaks of the mattress couldn't be heard anymore.
"please" you begged in just a whisper "Please don't stop"
He pressed his forehead to yours, both of you near hyperventilating as he thrusted over and over again, lost in the feeling of you and everything you brought with you.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to baby" he groaned "You feel too good," he said.
"Oh my god!" you moaned, as pressure built in your belly and his cock stretched you so well "Right there Javi, right there" you whimpered "Please-" 
"come for me baby" he urges "Give me all you've got"
And just like that, you did, your back and neck arched from the bed as you let out what could only be described as an animalistic moan.
Javier forced himself not to blink so as not to miss a second of the artwork occurring beneath him.
He was so distracted by your beauty in fact, that he didn't remember to pull out, and it was only after you opened your eyes that he realized.
"oh shit" he whispered, worry taking over his face.
You smiled, still blissful "Don't worry" you reassured him, reaching your hand to stroke his cheek.
You moved some sweaty hair out of his face, and he did the same, a joyful smile finding its way on both your faces.
"You're incredible baby" he kissed you much more gently now
"you're not so bad yourself agent" you teased, giving him another quick peck before he halfheartedly pulled out and collapsed beside you.
His hand reached on the nightstand for his cigarettes, and he lighted one as his other arm wrapped around you to keep you close.
You rested your head on his chest as he took a drag before he offered it to you.
You accepted, inhaling and exhaling slowly before returning the cigarette.
You raised your head to look at him better 
"so what's going on?"
He hesitated before returning your look "Things are messed up right now" he answered vaguely
"aren't they always?"
"yeah" a cloud of smoke escaped his mouth again "but now ever more"
"mh" you hummed, contemplating "I'm sorry" you kissed his peck "I'm sure everything will be alright though, you're Javier Peña after all"
He chuckled drily at that " 'm not sure that's a good thing right now"
A small smirk tugged at your lips all of a sudden as a question came to you "If things are so messed up right now, you think it's a good idea to be here?"
"they can wait"
you snorted "Pablo Escobar can wait?"
"for you? " he said "The whole world can wait for you"
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wosoluver · 3 months
Text
There's a place for you hc
Part 1
Claudia Pina Masterlist
Patri Guijarro Masterlist
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Little moments
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"Vicky! Come back here!" you yelled running after the younger girl, that as usual made everything in her power to have fun annoying , not only you, but the whole team. "That's not funny!"
But before you can mutter another word, Patri trips her, making Vicky fall hard, face first into the grass, dropping your phone.
"Be careful, Alexia will kill us if she gets injured!" you say hitting the back of her head playfully.
"A 'thank you' would've been nice!" she follows, looking up to you.
"Thank you, my knight in shining armor for saving the day once again!" you say mocking her a little.
"Oh just kiss already!" says Cata from her spot, sitting next to her friend on the ground, while Pina looks amusingly at the scene. And at the constant bickering between you two.
"Don't start giving Y/N ideas!" said Lucy.
"You know she'll take them!" completed Ona.
You only shook your head laughing as you walked away not entirely denying it.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Bon dia, meus amors!" you say coming into the gym to start the workout for the day.
You noticed that Claudia, usually playful and cheery looked a bit tired and not in the mood at all to be there.
"Hey, anything up with Clau?" you said coming to do some pushups next to Patri.
"Uhm not really, she's been like this all morning. Almost got attacked for asking if she wanted a bit of cinnamon on her coffee!"
"Who even puts cinnamon on coffee?" you gave her a disgusted face.
"She does! Well, sometimes."
You decided to follow the girl into the locker room after you were done.
Claudia was taken by surprise when you hugged her, sitting next to her. She looked up at you, questioning silently.
"You look like you need a hug." giving her a small kiss on her temple. "I can get you a warm towel you can use as a heat pad, if you want?"
"How'd you know?"
"We have a similar menstrual cycle, and I've heard Guijarro almost lost her head this morning. And honestly that's exactly what I feel like doing, when I'm on my PMS."
"Thank you." she said as you got up to get what she needed.
Jana shook her head wondering when would you guys ever move out of the friend zone.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"You, Cata, Salma, Paredes and Ona with me." said Patri pointing at you, picking out her team for the day's training.
"Not again!" you said with a groan. "Alexia please! I want to be in the winning team at least once in my life!" you said looking at the older woman who was captain of the other team, adding a small laugh at the end.
"Maybe if I didn't insist on picking you as a defender every time, we wouldn't be losing!" Guijarro rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"It was just a joke," you put your hands up in defense. "I love doing charity work." you said looking at the others in the group. "No offense guys."
They laughed along, knowing you just wanted to spite Patri.
"Since you're being so selfless today, can you please manage to stop Pina's attacks?" she says back with a clever smirk.
You only passed her the ball while sticking out your tongue. And she remembers wishing she could have you doing that in between her legs.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
You guys got ready to play yet another clássico. The superiority of Barça was already proven, but it was still a lot of fun work, for you to deny them goals, and for your teammates to get the ball past Misa, as many times as possible.
You greeted your rivals as the game was set to begin. The game had been heated as usual, a lot of fouls committed, and by the second half you had already received a yellow card, a few substitutions were made by the 65' minute mark, and Pina joined the game.
You tried your best to keep it in your lane, but you didn't mind dabbling into other positions, so when you had the chance to cross a ball to Claudia, you did and she managed to score beautifully, after a solo play.
You ran along to hug her and celebrate. You had been in a group hug, when she interlaced her fingers around your head pulling your forehead to hers, giving you a slight nod. Sharing a sweet moment, blending your beads of sweat together.
Pulling apart you noticed Patri holding onto the both of you with a big proud smile.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Can't wait for the day to be over." you sighed disappointed.
Today had been a tough one. It seemed like every other play you tried to complete failed, your passes weren't assertive enough and you held yourself to high standards and maybe too high for your own good.
Having a bad day felt like the end of your career, ignoring completely the fact that you were a human being and that lows happen.
"Can't take another ten minutes huh?" teased Patri.
"Stop it." you said, brow raised warningly at her. It wasn't like you to cut the jokes short.
"You look stressed." changing into a concerned tone.
"I am." you said barely above a whisper. You weren't one to talk about how you felt, not when it came to your unhealthy relationship with work.
She only nodded her head, putting her phone on her pocket.
"Hold this?" she said handing you her water bottle. "Okay, hop on."
"Why?"
"I'm piggybacking you to the locker room." you two shared a moment of silence as you gave in. Feeling thankful for that small favor, from her.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Lovely anon, thank you for this idea! I love it so much, I just don't want to give away the plot yet! 🤭 that's the only reason why I haven't attached to your request.
Already have three parts planned for this!
Good to be back! 🩷
don't forget to like and share!
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